Bring Him Home
(RyanDan)
Jack sat slumped in his worn leather chair in his dim office, only his desk lamp casting a glimmer across his solemn face and his sharp chin rested in his gently curled fist. Only silence filled the large desolate room; not even his soft rolling tears could penetrate the solemnity of it. But deep within his soul, he was calling and bleating like a lost lamb, for whom he did not know, but praying someone in the darkness would hear him. Someone had always been here for him, a guiding hand and a soothing voice in the shadows. But Owen, he was gone, so young like all of them and Jack just couldn't bear it. He was now a lost soul, part of death which Jack had experienced many times too often. But Jack had lived long enough to be ready for death Owen hadn't, he was just a boy. Jack reminisced as he realised what Owen would be experiencing, he would be so afraid running from the movement in the darkness. Jack only wanted him to rest, to be at peace, to be safe but what he really, really desperately wanted was for him to be back with the living, part of the team back home and he wished and wished this on the furthest brightest star he had ever reached.
Jack cared for Owen as a son, all the team were his children to look after and keep safe, but he had failed to do so. Memories whirled around his mind so fast like summers passing and turning into winter, passing too fast, dying like the setting sun every day, moments he could no longer hold on to. Like his long life it all melted from his grasp, he was old, older than anybody, too old he should be dying but even Captain Jack Harkness was afraid of dying. Owen was so young, he should have lived a happy life with joy and happiness, a full life but had Jack given him that, no he had not even been able to give him that and he could never forgive himself for this. He smiled as he remembered why Owen had wanted to become a doctor; he had hoped that saving one life would maybe make his own life better. Jack thought again about those deepest corners of the galaxies, he didn't believe in a God but he did believe in life and he wished that for Owen.
Jack did not deserve his long life in comparison, Owen was much more deserving. Jack should have died and at some moments in his life he had wanted to, but really he was so scarred even thinking about it now he was terrified, sinking within himself at the thought of it, so desperately clinging on to his life, he took it for granted he knew that. But Owen had not, he had lived every moment as if it was his last because he knew what it was to lose someone; he was a doctor after all. Jack thought about it and realised he would happily die in Owens's place and he should have done the moment Mr. Copley had raised his gun, if he had taken the bullet for Owen he might of made his own life better, but he and not and now he sat glumly contemplating the action that had shattered him. Images played in his mind; Owen lying cold dead on the ground, the last trickles of blood from his mouth drying as his eyes fell closed and then the tears from Jack's eyes stopped rolling.