She sat there, waiting for Jack to wake up. However long it took, she'd wait. She'd be there when he opened his eyes. She didn't know what he'd gone through fighting Abaddon, but she knew it was worse than a mere bullet to the brain. He'd need a friend when he woke, so she watched.
Tosh always took over from her when the boys would finally drag her out of 'Jack's room' and send her home to Rhys with strict instructions to eat and sleep, though she did little of either.
Ianto would normally be sitting, watching Jack when she returned in the early morning. Once it was Owen. He didn't say anything when she entered, simply folding his paper and retreating.
She would sit next to the too still, too quiet Jack, making sure he was comfortable. Fingering that lock of hair that always fell across his forehead. Over and over, playing in her mind, were memories of Jack. The first time she saw him, striding in the rain, leading his team. The invitation of join Torchwood, his patience with her during those first few bewildering weeks. How he handled the mix of personalities in his care. How he tried to show her the importance of her relationship with Rhys.
Jack had loved and lost, she knew. The right kind of Doctor? Well, maybe he'd tell her one day. She wondered why she'd been privy to some of the secrets he kept. The secrets the others were obviously dying to know. Was it because she was the new girl? Had she proven herself to Jack somehow? Or did she just remind him of someone special in that mysterious past he concealed so well?
Whichever, it didn't matter. Jack had put faith and trust in her. She had faith in Jack in return. It wasn't that she'd seen him recover from death wounds before, it wasn't that he'd told her he couldn't die - or at least stay dead. It had been his tone of voice when he told her. Not boasting or bragging. Not playing. Matter of fact, puzzled and wistful. Truthful.
Yes, she had faith in Jack, and so she waited.
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I can't ask for reviews cos I've got laryngitis.