Disclaimer: I don't own anything, Torchwood belongs to BBC Wales (Sorry forgot the first time)
Comfort
He was alone, no more Ianto, Tosh, he even missed Owen. He knew that this day would come, the one where he had to say his farewells. He had never thought that it would come so quickly.
A large red stain was rapidly blossoming on his shirt. He ignored it.
Gwen had survived with her husband, and their baby. He was happy of course, but that made him remember what no longer was. He had lost his partner, his grandchild, his life. Everything was crumbling around him, he was nothing.
Captain Jack Harkness, royal flirt, ex-con man and the last of Torchwood Three, stumbled in the deserted street.
He had been put to death, once. Everyone knew the story. He had ordered 6 bottles of vodka for his breakfast. Next… no one was certain, but he had awoken in bed with his ex-executioners, and they continued to write him letters from time in time...
He felt an arm on his shoulder, a half second later; his gun was out of his pocket and pointed towards …
"Put down your weapon my son, I mean you no harm." An old man stood in front of him. At least, he seemed old; it was too dark to see more than his outline in dark alley.
"A Webley Mk II . 455 if I am not mistaken," continued the stranger, "a weapon of good age, distributed between 1887 and the end of the 1st World War to the English soldiers. Can I ask how you came by it?"
"It's just an heirloom, my great-grandfather…" Jack was stupefied, but his face remained neutral. Not many people could identify his gun that accurately in the light of day, let alone midnight in the pitch black. That made him uncomfortable. In spite of this, he lowered his weapon, and made a face. An atrocious pain clawed at his abdomen.
Ergh, he had not drunk enough alcohol, and his injuries began to make themselves known. The arm on his shoulder became a consolation.
"Do you want me to call the police, and an ambulance?" The old person did not back away when he evaluated Jack's state of health. The latter shook his head. He knew that doctors could do nothing and taking into account the preceding episodes that he had had with the cops, there was little chance that they would help. More likely throw him in a concrete cell. He let himself to slide to the ground, the old man helping as best he could. He sat next to Jack on the sidewalk.
"Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death…"
"I do not want a sermon; I'm dying, and being alone or not won't change anything." The old fossil did not seem to be perturbed. He didn't seem concerned to know the reason Jack refused assistance. He had not asked what had put him in such a state. It did not even seem to concern him that Jack had drunk heavily and was hiding a firearm in his pocket.
"Are you a believer?"
Jack replied no. But that he had gone to confession once. He remembered this scene, another life… An alien had hidden itself in the confessional and he had had to get it out. The bishop not was happy to see this Dom Juan flirting in his cathedral, even less when he was the object of the suggestive winks. After the furious clergyman had been taken hostage by the fugitive, and then rescued by the Captain, he had decided not to banish Jack from all the churches under his jurisdiction. The face of the bishop still made him to smile.
It was not his fault that he flirted with the whole world…even though it was a gift that Jack had not wasted, and took great pleasure in.
"You're wasting your time, grandfather, I…"
"Young man, I do not know if you have principles, I do not know you, but me, I have some, and under no circumstances will I leave you to die alone in this street." The stranger appeared resolute on this point, and Jack no longer had the force to dissuade him. That did not prevent his irritation.
"Think about all the happy moments in your life, it will help" Jack found this a very painful suggestion. Whenever he thought about his friends, his family, he had to remember that they were gone. His companion saw him grimace.
"I have a daughter, and she hates me because of the death of my... my nephew. My friends are all faraway or dead."
"You want to call her? To ask for absolution? She cannot refuse…"
"She will not forgive me. And I don't blame her." It held in the family. But he hoped that she at least had enough intelligence of not to provoke a gangster in a club in front of all his friends. They remained silent apart from some groans from Jack. The pain disappeared, little by little. His vision became fuzzy. And a ringing prevented him from hearing the breathing of the man next to him. He welcomed these signs gratefully. It was almost over, a few more minutes….
"I believe that you will have a life in the Beyond, you seem not to be a bad sort. But you know, there is no honour in refusing assistance because of pride."
Jack's thoughts were a whirlpool. The beyond? He was immortal, he couldn't… he would awaken after some atrocious minutes of being dead…
Ianto, Tosh, Owen, Gwen, Ianto, Ianto
…
Ianto
The old man looked at the inert body for a long moment. He didn't even know his name. But he took heart in the fact that he hadn't died in solitude.
After all, he hadn't liked to pass on alone…
