Disclaimer: I don't own Torchwood, not matter how hard I wish. Maybe Santa can give it to me for Christmas!
NOTE: centers around the idea that the Face of Boe really is Jack Harkness in the future.
When Owen died, he couldn't bear it and did something rash to bring him back. It was worth it, in the end. The man found purpose, rather than drinking himself away until… Until he finally did die. Or when he had heard of the sarcastic medic's fate. That's when it hit him.
It was more impressive then my previous death. Then again, this wasn't really death. It was more like rapid decomposition. I wanted to tell Tosh how much I really did care for her. I hope she suspected though. But most of all, I wanted to thank him. I wanted to actually thank someone! And that someone turned out to be my boss! My boss who "knew the best" and got me injured. My boss who pulled me out of my mourning and showed me a whole new world and as I stood there… as I stood there dying, I realized it wasn't so bad after all. I didn't regret it. I didn't regret it one bit.
And when Tosh died in his arms. Right after Owen. That look on her face. The glazed eyes, the faint smile. The life draining away from her as the blood flowed away. It wasn't supposed to end like this. He knew that much. He wanted to keep himself in bloody 21st century Utopia just a little while longer. We wanted to pretend that the days when his whole team got through it all would be the only days they had together –forever. Utopia never turns out right.
It broke my heart, to see our brave and immortal captain bite his lip and try not to cry. I wanted to talk to him, to reach out to his heart. Tell him that it was alright. Tell him that it was going to be OK. I wanted to tell him that it was alright to cry. I wanted to thank him. He gave me the best years of my life. Sure a cut here and there with an occasional bullet in the leg wasn't everyone's idea of a productive work day, but in Torchwood, anything goes. But the things that I've seen, even if they scared me, they were extraordinary. And I wouldn't have missed if for the world. I don't regret it, captain. I don't regret my choice.
When Ianto, his beloved Ianto Jones, died in his arms, he knew that the world had ended. There was no use anymore. Fighting the aliens, defending the earth. He knew that all hope had been lost. For so long he'd been wandering, deflecting questions such as, "When was the last time that you were in love?" or "Do you know what love is?" Truthfully, he didn't trust himself. Not a single bit. He didn't trust himself to say goodbye when the time came. He didn't trust himself to love. But when the Welshman came into his life, he couldn't help himself. He thought that maybe life did have a meaning… until it ended too soon.
Don't cry… don't cry. I wanted to tell him that. My beloved cariad. Don't cry. That's not the last thing I want to see before I die. Please don't cry. But what a hypocrite I was too. Tears formed at the corners of my eyes and I gasped for air. The virus was working too quickly. I had so little time. We had so little time –together. The only consolation I had as I drifted off was the lingering kiss on my lips and his promise that he would never, ever forget me. Goodbye, cariad. I love you.
Then Gwen passed away. Old age. The only Torchwood agent he'd known to die old. A smile flickered on his lips at the thought, which immediately turned into envy and anger. Why her? Why not all of them? It wasn't fair. Life wasn't fair. Death wasn't fair. Gwen had left behind a husband and son, who she had named Jack Ianto Williams. He felt honored at the choice as he saw the old man in the front. He was in a wheelchair, but the eyes were unmistakable. The man ordered his son to wheel him over to him, then ordering him to have some time together. He consoled the wheelchair-ridden man, knowing that he had little time left as well. He cried and cried as he simply agreed and tried to stay strong. They were all gone now. All of them.
It was in my will. Not anything of monetary value, but of honor. I asked, if I should die before meeting him again, that the following passage would be read at my service: "Dear Captain Jack Harkness, it was good. Really. Honestly. I don't know if you're here at my service or not, but if you are, you're probably on the very back row and at the end of the aisle. As the heads turn back to see you, they won't, even if you're there. Because that's just you Jack. The invisible man. You're everywhere, but you're still too scared to crack out of that shell. I don't want you to mourn me too long Jack. I want you to move on. Find some purpose in your life. I know it's not fair Jack. I know it's not and I can't even begin to fathom how it feels to be you, sitting on that back row. But if I know anything about the time when we were all together, I know that we're all going to see you again. One day. I'm sure of it. Me, Tosh, Owen, Ianto… Even Suzie. Estelle. Martha. Everyone. We're all going to one big happy family. Because this is what we are Jack. Torchwood. Dead since 2009, but it lives on in you. You taught us what life was about. If it got us killed, then we knew the risk. This is Torchwood, Jack. It's you and all the good that you are. 21st century was when everything changed and you made us ready."
They say that just when you're about to die, you're life flashes before your eyes. Which life was that? He didn't know. He had too many lifetimes, all caught up on one point: when his world came crashing down. It was nice to know that people were by his side as he passed on. The Doctor, Martha and Novice Hame. It broke his heart to see them gaze helplessly, but he would see them soon. That was what she had promised. All those millions of years ago. He never forgot. He never could. The 21st century was when everything changed and now he was finally ready.
The light was so bright. Just like the time vortex, what had guaranteed my eternal suffering. Except now… it wasn't eternal. I saw them. I saw them all. All the people I cared for and loved. All those that were there for me. All there, waiting in the light. I cast a final glance at the broken Doctor and assured him that time would change. He would find salvation one day, just like I had found it. The Doctor looked up at where I should have been. I could have sworn that he saw me. He smiled and I could feel his sadness turn into joy for me. I nodded and gave him that cheeky signature smile of my human self and turned around, running into my cariad's arms. We promised forever. Now, we had it.
Because after all those years of watching the light fade away, I was finally home. Where I belonged. With everyone. And I was never, ever leaving again. This time, it was an promise of forever.