Jun. 3rd, 2014

captgreatcoat: (Cardiff night)
It's as quiet as it ever gets in the Torchwood hub. There's always the sound of machinery, the hum of lights, and, now, the scratching of pen on paper as Jack writes case notes. It's funny how used he's gotten to a pen and paper waiting for the humble computer to be invented. Even with the technological advances that Torchwood makes by highjacking alien technology, it's taken a hell of a long time to get to that comparatively enlightened technological level.

Now Earth is finally there. He's even finally made it to the age when computers are near ubiquitous. But habits change over time, and after so long with pen and paper as the main way of writing available to him, he likes writing this way. It helps him to organise his thoughts. In these long nights after he's sent the team home -- tonight rather forcefully -- he can sift through what's happened in the day, what he's learned, what he's theorised, where nobody can distract him and nobody can see.

Perhaps that adds to the solitude of the lonely job that Gwen often chides him with. He's the head of a secret organisation. There's solitude implicit in that.

Though ... there'd been a little less solitude sometimes. He's still not sure what to make of that, of what he'd had with Ianto before he'd run after the Doctor and lived through a year that nobody else remembers. Ianto doesn't know just how many pieces of himself Jack's been trying to pick up.

Surviving that year and remembering it would be enough to drive anyone into solitude. Or maybe not. Maybe, like Martha's answer is returning to her family, Jack's is letting himself draw closer to his own little family here. In the end, they're all he has, more a family to him than any other he's had.

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Captain Jack Harkness

July 2014

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