Bad Beginnings. By Mark Burnett.
Jack looked down at the blood stained bodies of his beloved colleagues. Each and every one of them dead. Some had been taken out with a quick, merciful shot to the head. Others had not been so lucky, the bullet piercing their stomachs, leaving them to die in agony.
His mind went instantly to Alex. Their proud, brave leader. He couldn't see the man's body. 'God, tell me he got out, tell me he's safe' Jack thought to himself. Then he heard a sound, and his entire world turned inside out.
Alex sat on top of an oil drum, one hand still wrapped around his gun, the other clutching that horrible medallion. The Prescience Pendant. It was supposed to show the wearer visions of their future, providing them with a clear concise image of what was to be. But Jack knew the truth about the small, glittering disk. Sure, it showed you the future, but always the worst thing possible. When he'd first encountered the thing, he was just a boy. He saw Franklin, his father, lying dead outside their home. He saw Grey's hand slip from his own. The worst thing he could imagine.
It didn't show him the good things in his life; the Doctor, Rose, Torchwood. It was alien propaganda, designed to make the wearer go mad.
Alex told him what he'd seen. Told him the thing he'd most feared. It was Alex who had shot the team, massacred them. He even apologised for not being able to kill Jack. A million thoughts ran through the captain's mind, shoot Alex, restrain him, put him in the cells, grab him and hold him tight, promise him it would be okay. Jack felt the tears pricking at his eyes. How could this be the man he knew so well? It wasn't real, couldn't be!
Jack awoke from yet another death. God, he'd never be able to get used to the first breath, cutting his lungs like razor blades. His head throbbed, just like it had every other time he'd been shot. But this time… this time something was different. Something he'd never felt before. Arms around him, holding him close. A tender voice whispering to him.
'It's okay, Jack, you're safe. You're alive. Just take it easy,'
He opened his eyes, looking up at the gentle man embracing him. Alex, leader of Torchwood Three. His boss. He couldn't help but smile when he felt the man's chest shudder underneath him, drawing in a ragged breath.
'That looked painful. Don't think I'm ever gonna get used to seeing you like that," Alex told him.
'Don't worry, it's not as bad as it looks,' Jack lied, trying to comfort the man. He'd never seen his boss like this, never. It was so strange.
'You don't have to protect me from the truth, Jack. It's okay. If it hurts, damn it, just tell me where!" Alex's voice was surprisingly tender, considering the heartfelt plea that was hidden behind the words.
Jack wondered what was happening. His mind felt so groggy, probably from the nine millimetre slug that just passed through it. This couldn't be right. His boss didn't hold him, didn't whisper words of comfort when he died. It was so wrong, this wasn't Alex. Alex was gruff, no nonsense, straight laced. Jack shifted slightly, trying to hide the effect Alex's hot breath on his face was having.
'Alex, I…' Jack's voice faltered. He was normally so confident, but this was different.
'Shh, it's okay," Alex murmured. He ran a hand down the side of Jack's face, his thumb smearing the blood down Jack's cheek.
The captain's breath caught in his throat. God, he wanted the man, but he never acted on it. Shit, Alex had only just divorced his wife! He'd never shown any interest in Jack before.
"I hate seeing it, you know, Jack,' Alex said, 'You dying. You in pain. Seeing you bleed and knowing there's nothing I can do for you'
'There is,' Jack breathed, 'You're doing it now'
The simple sentence seemed to leave Alex at a loss for words. He just looked at Jack, his eyes brimming with vulnerable affection. He ran his fingers through Jack's blood-soaked hair, gently combing out the tangles.
'And it helps? What I'm doing now?' Alex asked.
Jack nodded the affirmative. He took a deep breath, bracing himself. This could either be wonderful, or disastrous. There was only two ways it could go. Alex would respond. Or he would be disgusted, and finally terminate Jack's contract at Torchwood. He didn't know. But he wanted to find out, badly.
'There's something else you could do to help," Jack murmured.
'Anything,' Alex replied, leaning closer to the captain, listening intently.
'This…' Jack whispered. He laid his hand, gently, on Alex's face, giving him every chance to pull away. Slowly, tenderly, he touched his lips to his boss's, engaging him in a sweet kiss.
Alex moaned, just a little, parting his lips and allowing Jack's questing tongue entry. The captain devoured his leader's mouth, tasting him. His fingers found the back of Alex's neck, stroking the skin there, feeling the hair rise.
'Jack,' Alex gasped, breaking the kiss all too soon, as he felt the captain turn in his arms, pressing Alex gently down on the floor.
'Do you want it?' Jack asked him.
'Yes.'
Jack rolled his hips, grinding against his boss. The friction on his shaft was delicious, he groaned just as he heard the same noise escape Alex's delicious lips. He pulled the man's shirt off, trailing his tongue down the lightly muscled chest. His lips sought Alex's nipple, closing around it, sucking hard, tongue swirling. Alex moaned, loudly, running his hands over Jack's strong back, his fingers curling at the hem of the captain's shirt, yanking it up so he could rub Jack's hot skin.
'God, Jack!'
Alex thrust up against Jack, pressing their erections against each other. Jack desperately wanted to be rid of the fabric separating them. He needed to feel Alex's skin so badly; he would have done anything to have it. He ran his hands down Alex's back, cupping his ass before sliding them round, in between their bodies and wrenching his boss's pants open.
'Thank God you go commando!' Jack chuckled lightly.
He wrapped his hand around his boss's throbbing shaft, stroking him roughly. His lips sought Alex's in a demanding, passionate kiss. The tenderness was gone, leaving only the hot, masculine movements of their bodies writhing against each other. It was exactly what Jack needed, this confirmation of life.
He was rolled onto his back, his pants torn from his body. Cool, slicked fingers circled his entrance, pushing deeply inside him. God, it felt so good. Alex found his prostate instantly, rubbing against it with each thrust of his digits.
'Fuck me! Oh, God, fuck me!' Jack growled, wantonly pushing himself back onto Alex's fingers, fucking himself onto his boss's hand.
'Is this what you want? Is this what you need?' Alex asked him.
'God, yes' Jack moaned.
Alex positioned himself between Jack's thighs, pushing slowly inside him. Jack bit his lip to suppress the scream of pleasure threatening to burst from him. He felt the hard, oh so hard, flesh filling him. God it had been so long since he'd felt this, his muscles stretching to accommodate Alex's thick shaft. Deep thrilling shivers ran through his spine, gorgeous ecstasy riding this veins as Alex pounded into him. He hooked his legs over his boss's shoulders, begging him to thrust harder, deeper, faster. Anything, as long as it involved being filled with this man.
Alex kissed him, their breath mingling like wild fire. He could feel it, that golden edge, approaching him. His fingers clutched Alex's shoulders, pulling him closer. He rolled his hips back, hard as he could, loving the moan Alex let slip from the back of his throat.
Jack felt Alex's fingers reach down to wrap 'round his cock. The friction was intense, driving him wild with passion. He was so close now… so close…
'Alex, yes! Yes!' Jack cried out, burying his face in the crook of his boss's neck.
He felt his muscles clamping down violently on Alex's shaft; felt the shudders coming from his lover as he, too, came. Crying out Jack's name before he collapsed on top of him, spent.
They kissed. It was so slow, so tender, and full of all their fears and pains. It was Alex's way of telling Jack that he… well, he didn't want him to die. And it was Jack's way of promising that he never would. They explored each other's mouths, finally taking the time to be as languid and loving as they needed to be.
Alex looked at Jack, one last time. The captain could see the apology written across his lover's face. He bequeathed Torchwood to Jack, told him to make something of it, something good. Then, he said his goodbye, and shot himself through the head.
Anguish tore through Jack. There was nothing he could have done, nothing he could do. He'd watched the man die, and he couldn't stop him. He fell to his knees, pulling the final bloodied corpse into his arms. He brushed his hand over Alex's face, closing his unseeing eyes.
'I hate seeing it, you know, Alex. You dying," Jack said.
Fin.