A/N: some of Tommy's world, he is the hero of the episode after all

Spoiler alert: To the Last Man

Beta-ed: TattoedLibrarian

Tommy Brockless didn't think himself a brave man, but never thought he would be the one to be the coward. He learned the hard way that life can surprise you even of your own strengths. He just couldn't help it, the shock of flying bombs and death that was around every corner was too big for him to handle. Torn limbs, blood and screams didn't help either. He couldn't concentrate, let alone listen to orders. Everything was a blur, he had hard time hearing the voices of those around him, it seemed like the bombs were muffling all other sounds. He twitched and turned expecting one of those bombs to be at his side at any given moment.

Then those Torchwood agents came and everything calmed down. He couldn't even remember what it was that he was so afraid of. They explained to him that he was needed and he accepted that. Maybe he'd be a hero at some end despite that inexplicable fear that raged through his chest.

He let them freeze his body and started to adjust to wild awakenings in which first seconds brought panic that he couldn't pinpoint. After his mind was fully awake he would answer their questions and spend some time awake. That was a dull time. Torchwood agents seemed cold, serious and unapproachable, so he just sat there waiting for the clock to tell him it was time to sleep again. He didn't mind sleep, not really. There he wasn't afraid. He didn't even mind the underground setting; it gave him a sense of security. They gave him something to read from time to time and he had to exercise for a bit, but that was all the entertainment he would get.

It was funny to observe how older the agents got every time he would be awaken. But that would never be a really old age; they would all disappear quite quickly from his point of view. He assumed they moved, or retired, he didn't really ask many questions.

When they would wake him there would always be at least three people around, a medic, a technician and their leader, usually even more than that. Apparently they didn't have many frozen people to wake and see how they react to coming back to life. Then one year he woke up to just one person.

"Relax, I'm Captain Jack Harkness, how are you today?" He smiled and Tommy smiled weakly back.

"Freezing" he answered and earned a big smile. Despite that smile Captain Jack looked sad and they spent remaining time in silence broken only by the standard short questions and answers. When it was time to go under he almost asked where the others were, but something stopped him, he sensed that he wouldn't liked the answer if he ever got one. As he fell asleep he wondered if it would be like this from now on, silence and solitude.

But the next time he woke up there was a new face to greet him, and this face was smiling the warmest, prettiest smile he had ever seen. He responded with a smile instantly and started to answer her questions with all the wit he could gather, he knew how to do that before the fear, to just court a beautiful woman. And Toshiko Sato, as he learned her name, was not just beautiful, but shy and honest, there was something warm about her, like he really interested her and not just as a test subject for a freezing process. That's why when she got angry at the fact he wasn't outside the Hub all this time; he let her take him out for a pint.

There was a tremor of fear as he exited into the daylight, but she interpreted it as excitement and took him to look around. Her chatting about all amazing things that happened to the city in the meantime made him forget his fear and relax enough to enjoy himself. Judging by her laughter and talking about her work and plans he was being quite charming.

He regretted when it was time to go under again, but Captain Jack stood there looking like the year before and he went without complaining.

To his excitement she was there next time he woke up smiling and with plans for city tour. There were more people this time, a short doctor, a lean woman in the back, but he paid no attention to them. Tosh was smiling. This time the city was even better and he felt like Tosh was trying to entertain him, like this meant to her something too.

On their third date, he saw it like a date now because she just glowed in front of him, the Hub was tidier, and there was a polite guy in a suit that gave them city maps that allowed him to lead the way. He was on the verge of kissing her, but his fear overcome him and the moment passed. He promised to himself he would be braver next time. After all he wasn't a coward, was he?

Fourth day came and she stood there like they were alone and it felt like they were. They sat down, war was still going on somewhere in the world, the sights of bombs disturbed him, but she was there and he got back to listening to her. In the end he did what dreaded him and kissed her. She backed away but he persisted. It seemed that something would happen, something normal and beautiful. Of course it swayed away in a second. Down there in the Hub they said his time had come and his fear came back. He tried to chase it away but as time passed it grew. Then she came and rescued him from it once again. She brought him to her home and let him love her. He was good at that, if the world only consisted of the things that demanded love he would never be at trial. Strange, he laid there in her bed feeling like he failed, like they judged him for not being strong enough, brave enough, but he couldn't remember the trial, like a dream hard to reach.

It must have been a dream because with her he felt like he could be anything, even the hero.

In the morning it was his time and he put on his pjs to save the world in them. He saw the humour in that, but humour had left him as the familiar sounds of bombs started to break though the time and space. As the sound grew stronger it was harder and harder to think, to remember the man that lay in her bed, the one that could be the hero. Only one that was left was a wreck of fear and tremor of a coward. He refused to go forward and do what was right, and he knew he had done that before. He didn't care about what that meant, or the disappointment he'd been, he cared only to stay alive.

Then she looked at him and pleaded for all their lives and he looked at her smiling eyes now all filtered with worry, stress and sorrow and he found last straw of clarity in the midst of his fears. He stood up determined to at least save her, when he crosses he'll hide somewhere, he'll run there, but here he'd do what was right for her. That kept him going to his bed in his past, but after he was back in bed all the memory of her started to fade. Those short hours of carelessness couldn't compete with weeks of horror, bombs, air strikes, blood, screaming and dying men around him. Soon he couldn't remember her face; it was covered with agony of those around him.

His anxiety held strong hold of him and his thoughts became blurry once again. He squeezed something in his hand but wasn't worried about what it was; it was just something he was holding.

Then a strange Asian woman started to talk to him. She looked familiar, but he couldn't concentrate to find a memory of her. Then she did most strange thing, she called him a hero. That seemed to lift off the fog of his mind for a second, for a minute his fear didn't make him hear only the sound of bombs. She called him a hero; he didn't understand why she did that, especially because everyone thought of him quite the opposite. He looked at the thing in his hand and did what she told him to do. Maybe that would turn off the sound of the bombs and make him invincible.

He turned the key, but to his knowledge nothing happened. The bombing continued, his fear continued. Later on a man and a woman came and took the thing he was holding. After that there was nothing left to hold on to, nothing to relate him to a brave man that the woman saw before her. She must have been mistaken, or more likely he dreamt about her.

After the air strike was over he could breathe more easily, but anxiety wouldn't leave him alone not for a second to remember something else, something he forgot, and somewhere where a war was just a small picture.

Finally there came a day where his cowardice would be properly punished. It was a peaceful day and he could think almost clearly. He could remember his trial, his fear, his failure, a girl he once thought he would marry but the war taught him he wasn't worthy of that. It was almost a relief to meet your own death, to know from what angle it would come. He didn't have to fear anymore unpredictability of it all. He accepted the blind fold, after all when you're being shot as a coward you don't have to pretend anymore that you could stand to stare at your own death.

In the darkness before death, as the platoon adjusted their guns the time seemed to slow down, and he could think calmly. In that serenity, a face of an Asian woman came to him again and he wondered who she was, how could he forget her? She didn't only call him a hero, but brave and handsome, and hers. Maybe, just maybe, she knew something he forgot; maybe he did something to earn those words. Maybe he wasn't the coward after all? With that thought he smiled and stood a bit taller.