Jack returned to the ruins of the Hub, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs. The moon rose over the destruction, causing ominous shadows.
He passed Ianto first. Brave, loyal, Ianto. He was always there for him, with a cup of coffee and a hug. He had forgiven him after the Doctor. He would forgive him after anything, Jack thought. Now, his body lay twisted upon the floor, his soft hair burnt from the heat. His eyes were closed, his dark eyelashes startling against his pale skin.
Jack walked through jagged metal, ignoring the way it cut his skin. Tosh lay under her beloved computer, the metal digging into her cold skin. His Tosh, his smart, sweet Tosh. She had always been helpful and caring, a friend of everyone. He remembered the way she loved Owen. His eyes watered as he realized she would never get to have him love her back. Her black hair was covered in dust and dirt from the explosion.
He saw Gwen next. Her body was mostly covered in chunks of concrete, only her face and neck was visible. His compassionate Gwen. He could still picture clearly the day she worked for Torchwood. Her utter humanity and clear ways were so very fresh for Torchwood. She came in and taught everyone to be human again. He had loved her, at the very least a little bit.
He saw Owen last. His body was crumpled unnaturally against the wall. Owen, who was so sarcastic and funny and closed off. Hardly any one got to see the sweet side of Owen, but it was there. Jack knew Tosh had seen it, and so had Gwen. Ianto and Jack, too, had seen it. Very rarely, but they had.
Jack turned away and walked back toward the street. It was just like any other night, with a sunset and a moonrise not too far behind. Very few people would remember nor care about these people, but Jack would always remember Ianto Jones, Toshiko Sato, Gwen Cooper and Owen Harper. They were part of him and always would be.
People milled and laughed on the streets of Cardiff, unaware of the deaths of four people, four people that had always protected them. They were unaware of a stunningly handsome man who was crying right then. It was, to them, a just another night in Cardiff.
AN
Some of this I got from Jack Johnson's Constellations.