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galactic_conmanTitle: Proud of your boy
Fandom: Doctor Who/Torchwood
Character/Pairing: Jack, mentions of Rose, Nine, OC, Jack's mother
Prompt List: Beauty Within and Without
Prompt: Veil
Rating: not even pg again
Word Count: 324
Author's Notes: Set after Bad Wolf/Parting of the Ways, no spoilers for Torchwood.
Summary: Jack remembers different people.
It was always small things that set Jack off remembering people. Certain people always had their specific triggers, some stronger than the others.
Rose he hadn't been able to pin down to one thing.
The Doctor of course was mostly defined by that stupid leather jacket. Jack had told him that once, hadn't gone well, but he missed it.
The room on the TARDIS that smelt like lavender, which he still didn't know why it had that time, it hadn't before and never did again.
There were other people too, simple things and some bizarre.
It was a specific type of engine grease that triggered his memory of one mechanics he'd known, she'd patched his ships up many times. Never questioning why he had a different one. Always there with a smile and tutting about what damage he'd caused that time.
There were many more people and memories or adventures of varying sorts he could remember each being triggered like that.
But it was the morning that someone he wasn't paying close enough attention to who it was, he remembered his home. He'd quickly shut himself away in his office at that point. Nothing that he hadn't done before and would certainly do again so no-one questioned him.
Home further back than there, the TARDIS. His mother. That's who he thought of then. He had to wonder what she would make of him now.
He stood watching out over the Hub. The others appearing, seeing the door closed and not bothering him. He turned back. Remembering her as he always did, that wonderful woman who only had to smile and she cheered him up. Being held quietly, always calming him no matter what happened, always there, knowing what was right for him. He missed her sometimes, more than he let on. He found himself back at the door, watching everyone again without realising it.
Still wondering if his mother was proud of him.
Fandom: Doctor Who/Torchwood
Character/Pairing: Jack, mentions of Rose, Nine, OC, Jack's mother
Prompt List: Beauty Within and Without
Prompt: Veil
Rating: not even pg again
Word Count: 324
Author's Notes: Set after Bad Wolf/Parting of the Ways, no spoilers for Torchwood.
Summary: Jack remembers different people.
It was always small things that set Jack off remembering people. Certain people always had their specific triggers, some stronger than the others.
Rose he hadn't been able to pin down to one thing.
The Doctor of course was mostly defined by that stupid leather jacket. Jack had told him that once, hadn't gone well, but he missed it.
The room on the TARDIS that smelt like lavender, which he still didn't know why it had that time, it hadn't before and never did again.
There were other people too, simple things and some bizarre.
It was a specific type of engine grease that triggered his memory of one mechanics he'd known, she'd patched his ships up many times. Never questioning why he had a different one. Always there with a smile and tutting about what damage he'd caused that time.
There were many more people and memories or adventures of varying sorts he could remember each being triggered like that.
But it was the morning that someone he wasn't paying close enough attention to who it was, he remembered his home. He'd quickly shut himself away in his office at that point. Nothing that he hadn't done before and would certainly do again so no-one questioned him.
Home further back than there, the TARDIS. His mother. That's who he thought of then. He had to wonder what she would make of him now.
He stood watching out over the Hub. The others appearing, seeing the door closed and not bothering him. He turned back. Remembering her as he always did, that wonderful woman who only had to smile and she cheered him up. Being held quietly, always calming him no matter what happened, always there, knowing what was right for him. He missed her sometimes, more than he let on. He found himself back at the door, watching everyone again without realising it.
Still wondering if his mother was proud of him.
