InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "I am NOT responsible."

capt_harkness (capt_harkness) wrote in vas_captio_rpg,
@ 2009-06-10 23:53:00

Entry tags:

!dropped, day 10, jack harkness, location: museum, shannon rutherford

WHO: Jack Harkness, Shannon Rutherford
WHAT: Jack takes over Shannon!watch
WHEN: 17:00
WHERE: The Museum
RATING: G! seeing who's paying attention
STATUS: Active

There was one person he still hadn't seen following the earthquake. Well, two counting the Doctor but Jack was certain the man was going to be fine. The two of them had seen far worse scrapes over the years and an earthquake seemed inconsequential compared to an army of Daleks. Then again, there they had known what they'd be up against. Vas Captio was a veritable unknown.

Getting Ianto to safety had been Jack's primary concern, though his conversations with the Insider through the journals wasn't helping to ease his mind. Still, Jack knew where his place was and, as much as he wanted to stay and keep Ianto safe, he couldn't. He was the hero and he would do the work of heroes: getting everyone else out safe and then figuring out what to do from there. Having not seen Shannon thus far, Jack worried that she was still trapped under god knew how much more debris.

Moving at a full-out run, Jack moved quickly through the rubble, vaulting over piles of stone, not slowing until he approached the remains of the muesum. God, they'd have to find something by way of shelter now -- the museum wasn't habitable. Squinting, Jack could see two figures near the crumbling foundation and he picked up his pace once more, relief coursing through his veins as he caught sight of her.

Thank god.

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capt_harkness
2009-06-11 12:19 am UTC (link)

Confessing what exactly he and Torchwood did would take a fair bit of persuasion. It wasn't as if he didn't trust her, it was that he couldn't trust that she wouldn't freak out. In her world, all the contact with aliens had never existed (or so he assumed) -- there were no aliens in Downing street and there was never any spaceships over London. So, while she might not have flinched too much at the Weevils, going into his complete line of work wasn't top on Jack's list of things to do anytime soon. Still, if she asked, he'd tell her the reader's digest version that wouldn't have her calling him mental.

"I'm okay," Jack said, reaching for a hand and lightly squeezing. "Promise you I'm the same Jack, in every detail. And I do mean every." They just needed a little bit of levity inspite of the wretched situation that surrounded them. But when it came to death -- he would tell her if she wanted to know. It wasn't like t here was much to tell anyway -- and his own private hell where Gray was concerned could very easily be omitted.

Wincing, Jack murmured an apology under his breath. He had tried to be as careful as humanly possible, but apparently had failed miserably in that regard. "Floorboard." Jack repeated once more, wondering how a floorboard in the side was not supposed to cause alarm and constituted her being 'fine'. Not in his book. He did want to see the extent of the injury, and if it was bad, figure out a way to get her to the make-shift clinic.

Somehow, a repeat performance of throwing her over his shoulder didn't seem like the greatest idea in the world. Not wit a gash the size of Germany in her side. "Nothing I haven't seen before," Jack said with a cheeky grin. The smile, however, faded when he saw the state of her side. "Where does it hurt?" he asked, slowly peeling the blood-soaked shirt away from her side. He moved slowly, not wanting to dislodge any of the scabbing that had begun to form, stopping the flow of blood. "And, frankly, why didn't that guy take you to the gym for treatment?"

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