Toshiko was dead. Owen was dead. Grey was…Jack tried to not think about his brother, whose body was left frozen, in Torchwood's basement for eternity.
Only a few more minutes. Just until Gwen and Ianto left. Then he could let go.
He'd told them to go, that he could clean up the mess, that it was his duty. They both tried to tell him to leave it, but Jack knew he couldn't. Tosh and Owen were his responsibility, until the bitter end.
One step in the autopsy room was all it took. His legs collapsed from under him, strangled screams of sorrow ripping free from his throat. Tears pouring from his eyes. Ones that had been held there for over a century, never being released until now.
He didn't understand. He'd lost so many people. Seen so many die, many of which were his fault. So why was it so hard with them?
He knew the answer. It was because they were the only family he'd had in a long while. People he could trust, despite the relatively small amount of time they had.
But he hadn't been able to protect them. The curse of immortality. That, in the end, they will all be dead, and he'll be left all on his own.
It was times like now when he longed for the sweet release of death. The wish that the darkness would one day take him. One day it will arrive. But until then the universe has plans. Plans to make Jack suffer. Because no matter how good times get, good things don't last for long.
Thanks for reading, constructive criticism welcomed (Just don't be rude pls)