Characters: Jack, Ianto.
Written For: Challenge 468: Faint / Feint at tw100.
Spoilers: Exit Wounds.
Summary: In the aftermath of Exit Wounds, Jack needs some perspective.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
A/N: This one’s a double drabble.
Dawn was the faintest of faint smudges on the distant horizon as Jack stood still as a statue atop one of the tallest buildings in Cardiff. He’d been there most of the night, knew he should probably have left his high perch hours ago, but couldn’t quite bring himself to.
Instead, he stared through the darkness at buildings shattered by the recent series of explosions that had marked John Hart’s return. At least all the fires were out now, but that was small consolation. Too many lives had been lost, both in the explosions and the chaos that ensued. Cardiff was bleeding, and it was his fault.
“No it wasn’t.”
Jack hadn’t been aware that he’d spoken aloud, and neither had he heard footsteps approaching. Then again, Ianto could be stealthy as a cat when he chose.
“You don’t know that.”
“I let go of his hand.”
“By accident, just as he let go of yours. He needed someone to blame; he picked you because you were with him just before he was taken. That doesn’t make you responsible. You were just a child yourself. You did the best you could.”
“It wasn’t enough.”
“Nothing would have been.”