Series 1 RP for twmagdalena

[quitehomoerotic]

A rare evening alone and Jack should have known things would never go to plan. He told the team to go home, to have dinner, go to the pub, whatever it is normal people do with their evenings. But he hadn't bargained for the six Weevils that appeared in Cathays park.

He dealt with it, of course, but not before loosing a great amount of blood. Not enough to kill him straight away, but enough to kill him slowly. To wait until he got back to the empty Hub (and oh was he thankful it was empty) and die there. He sat at his desk and tried to stop the bleeding, but there was little that could be done and the next thing he knew was when he was taking a heavy breath and opening his eyes back to life.

It hadn't been a long death, half an hour, maybe. But it was a sluggish one. Took the drive and energy out of him. He sat there in his bloodied clothes, and instead of change, he just sighed. Sighed and looked out of the doors, staring into the nothingness of the empty Hub.

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[twmagdalena.livejournal.com]

The only reason she'd come back was that she'd left her wallet in the drawer of her desk. Rhys had said it was no big deal, leave it, get it tomorrow, but she'd heard (and given) one too many don't drive without your license lectures. "I'll be in and out," she'd promised, "I'll meet you and Banana down the pub."

She'd seen him up there, silhouetted by his desk lamp against the glass, and had come in to find him grey and exsanguinated. 'Exsanguinate', such a clinical term. A crime scene term, not a human one. It gave a sort of distance to the fact that the lump of flesh was a human who'd died from bleeding out. She'd always appreciated the distance.

He'd woken up when Suzie had shot him in the head... but Gwen found she couldn't let herself leave until she was sure he was okay. What if it had been a fluke -- he'd said he couldn't die, but what if he were wrong..?

He was out for a while, and it wasn't pretty. Gwen slipped downstairs to make herself a mug of hot sugary tea on the off-change the dull horror she was feeling was actually medical shock, and when she made her way quietly back upstairs, he was awake again.

"Hey," she whispered, cradling the mug in her hands.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack was used to being alone when he faced things like this. He always had been, it was normal. That was unless he was having it scrutinised. Torchwood liked to do that for a long time, they never really did give up trying to find out how and why it worked. It was no wonder he hid it at the first opportunity he got.

He didn't expect anyone to be there. He'd arrived in silence and it still seemed silent now. Silent that was until he heard the echo of footsteps and the shadow of Gwen enter his vision.

He felt caught off guard and he straightened his back a little. "Hi," he nodded and looked down for a moment at his clasped hands before gazing back up towards her. "I thought you were out with Rhys."

[twmagdalena.livejournal.com]

"I forgot my wallet," she told him, walking into the room, into the light. He'd not invited her in, in fact his body language seemed designed to preserve distance, but she came in anyway -- again, she'd gone in before and checked his pulse... oh, and was that his blood on her cuff? Probably -- and came all the way around to his side of the desk.

"Left it in my desk." Her voice was still a whisper, and she set her cup down on the desk before reaching out to touch his cheek. To reassure herself he was warm and alive again. Her small hand, warm from cradling her mug of tea, cupping his face gently.

"You alright?"

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

It was almost jarring to be seen in this situation after keeping it well hidden for so long. But nowhere as jarring as having her gentle reaction to it. Her human and caring reaction.

He breathed out and glanced up at her. Her hand was warm and it felt nice against his skin.

"I'm fine," he nodded, short and succinct. "Just a scratch." He almost laughed at that, the irony in it. In a way it wasn't a lie; that was all that was left now, after all. Just a scratch.

"You should get gone. Rhys'll be worried."

[twmagdalena.livejournal.com]

"It was more than a scratch when I came in," she scolds him softly for being so dismissive. She'd taken the sponge-mop and cleaned up some of the blood, in fact, before going down for that cup of tea. "Don't tell me that was a scratch, or that it didn't hurt." She drummed her heels a little against the desk drawers, mostly for emphasis.

"Rhys is off at the pub with a mate. It's fine." Her thumb traced the line of his cheekbone. "It's okay." It's okay to feel shitty. It's okay to crave a little human contact. It's okay to be vulnerable. Her voice contained multitudes.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack took another deep breath and shifted slightly, his face withdrawing from her hold. As tactile as he could be at times, he wasn't always comfortable with it, especially when feeling vulnerable like he did now.

"I'm fine," he echoed as he adopted his best 'I'm the boss' tone. "It doesn't matter."

He looked down again and cleared his throat. Doing his very best to ignore the fact his formerly blue shirt was now mostly dark red and still sticky.

[twmagdalena.livejournal.com]

Gwen lowered her hand when she felt him withdraw, took a sip from her tea and handed him the mug. "Here. Drink this. It'll help."

She hopped off the desk and stood before him, assessing the state he was in. Her eyes moved over him without hesitation and there was, this time, nothing sexual in the frankness of her gaze. "The shirt's a write-off. I should run you a shower, you're caked in blood."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

He glanced over to the mug as though she were presenting him with a new alien find. "I'm fine," he reiterated. Being looked after wasn't something he was used to, nor was it something he was entirely comfortable with.

Looking down at his shirt he laughed a little, "Oh you think?" He smirked and shook his head, "Plenty where that came from."

Another shake of his head though, and he sighed out. "I'll do that. I'm not an invalid, Gwen."

[twmagdalena.livejournal.com]

"I know you're not, but you're also not quite yourself yet from being what looked like ripped apart," she pointed out, lifting her chin stubbornly. "I'm not infantilising you, Jack. I wouldn't dream of it. What I am doing, is being a friend."

Her green eyes were enormous and so dark in the half-light. "You scared me when I found you bleeding out here, all alone." She took his hand -- slightly sticky with his own blood -- and placed it over the centre of her chest (thank god she was wearing red) so he could feel the way her heart was still pounding. "Fussing a bit is calming -- I mean, clearly, this is nothing new to you, but..."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

"It wasn't as bad as it looked," he insisted. Adamant to maintain that it was nothing, despite the fact it killed him. "Blood always makes things look worse."

He watched her as she took his hand, surprised by the motion, but doing his utmost best not to show it. "Then I'm sorry you found me," he nodded. "Nobody was supposed to be here."

Another breath out. "It's not something I want people to see."

[twmagdalena.livejournal.com]

"It's a fact of being your friend, Jack," Gwen pointed out. Her hand rested lightly over his over her heart. "You are who and what you are, and you shouldn't feel you have to hide it away in the dark, like something dirty and shameful."

Her voice took on a more passionate lilt, moving away from the funereal whispers she had been using.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

"I'm not hiding," he corrected. "Just keeping my personal business personal. There's no reason for people to know things that would only scare and upset them."

He looked up at her and heaved out another heavy sigh. He supposed he'd asked for it in a way, Gwen Cooper. It was her passion, fire and the fact that she never seemed to give up that made him interested in her in the first place, so he should hardly be shocked that she'd be the same where he's concerned.

[twmagdalena.livejournal.com]

"We're not children, Jack," she reminded him. Her heart beat just a bit faster.

And then he sighed at her, and she looked away, laughing falsely. If anything, she felt a bit foolish. A bit like she'd overstepped some line that she hadn't realised was there until she'd blundered over it. Jack was an incredibly informal sort of a boss -- it was easy to mistake his easy charm for a sort of intimacy. Especially after a few lessons from him with firearms.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

"No," he agreed, "children aren't scared of anything, they don't know any better." He smiled a little and looked over at her.

"It was a Weevil. A pack of Weevils," he tells her. An olive branch of sorts reached out. An answer to a question she didn't ask. "Caught me off guard, that's all. Oh and don't worry, I didn't drive like this." He tried to inject a little humour. His defence mechanism so many times.

[twmagdalena.livejournal.com]

She huffed a little, a noise that could have been a laugh or could have been a sigh, but was, in reality, somewhere between the two. "I suppose that's something," Gwen allowed. "You'd've been swerving all over the road and scare some traffic patrol half to death."

Her hands were held in her lap, fingers absently drumming on her thighs a bit. "Take off the shirt, please," she blurted, barely even registering the potential suggestiveness of her request. "It's just... so red." Feeling still a bit foolish, she added weakly, "And red's not your colour in the least."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

"Oh I do that too," he pointed out with a slight smile. "Usually makes driving a little more interesting. Brightens up the day." He was diverting, making light of the situation. But that's how he deals with things. He needed his outlet as much as the next.

The request surprised him, but he nodded. He decided against the obvious and easy comment to make. He could understand her discomfort at seeing him like that. "I'll change," he nodded and spoke with a gentle voice.

He stood and pushed himself from his desk, attempting not to appear still a little woozy on his feet. "A fresh coffee wouldn't go amiss," he suggested with a smile as he paused at the hatch in the corner. "And one of those pastries. If we've still got them."

[twmagdalena.livejournal.com]

"I'll have a look," Gwen agreed, and watched him wobble a bit. She dug her fingers into her leg to resist the urge to get up and help him, and probably offend his pride. "But I think Owen got into the last of them."

She waited until he'd disappeared down the hatch before getting up to make coffee, taking her mug of tea along with to sip as she fussed. As luck would have it, though, the fridge yielded up one of the pastries Ianto had fetched for everyone's breakfast, and she put it on a plate as the coffee brewed.

He seemed more himself when she got back up with his coffee and pastry. You don't have to pretend with me, she wanted to say, but it seemed rude.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

When he returned up the ladder Jack had washed and changed. Not a sign that he'd been dead less than an hour ago but for the slight circles under his eyes.

"Brilliant!" He smiled when he saw the pastry. He was easily pleased by food goods.

He gestured out of his office and over towards the sofa outside. "Shall we?" Walking over he took a seat and leaned his head back a little before taking the coffee and plate from her.

[twmagdalena.livejournal.com]

"We shall."

Gwen trailed after him, watching him carefully for signs of that shakiness she'd seen earlier. He looked just exhausted, and she felt for him, truly she did, for having to go through this alone so often -- for god only knows how long.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack focused on the pastry and the hot mug in his hand. A welcome distraction from the death and from having to evaluate her reaction.

"You know these things are pretty good," he nodded in an attempt to sideline the conversation even further. Truth was if she questioned him he wasn't at all sure how he'd answer. He'd become comfortable with keeping his true nature a secret.