Entry tags:

becker, jack harkness

WHO: Becker and Jack
WHAT: The Complex has exploded. That’s no fun for anyone.
WHEN: Tonight!
WHERE: ...the Complex, obviously. Becker’s flat there.
RATING: Well, technically rated for character death, but it’s Jack, so yeah. Probably PG-13.
STATUS: In Progress.
[Cut Lyrics: U2 ‘Fire’]

The day had been spent searching for the Doctor, trying to figure out if the Seal had taken him, like it had so many others, or if there was something darker at play, something dangerous. Becker had his own suspicions, but he didn’t voice them, simply attempting to be whatever it was that Jack needed him to be. And if that meant searching through Lawrence, then so be it.

But there had been no sign of the eccentric alien who loved his bow ties. And Becker needed to eat, like any other human and probably most other races too, so finally he had coaxed Jack back to his flat at the Complex, with the bribe of decent Chinese food that they picked up on the way. Becker was even in a generous enough mood to offer Jack the last spring roll, as he went over, again, the places they had already covered in their search, trying to work out the best places to look next.

Nothing was unusual, nothing was different. Just the two of them talking, eating, glancing at phones to check for messages.

When suddenly it felt as though the world exploded into flames. Becker felt the sudden weight of Jack throwing himself at him before he hit the floor, darkness spinning behind his eyes as he hit his head and the explosion pierced through the Complex.

He had no idea how long he was unconscious. Seconds. Minutes. As Becker came to, his ears were ringing from the noise, a pounding beat of a headache forming in his skull. He tried to cough, the smoke in the air making his lungs hurt, before the dead weight on his chest forced him to stop.

Dead weight.

Jack.

Gingerly Becker shifted, easing Jack off him, trying not to rush through his panic. Carefully, oh so carefully, he turned them around, so Jack was lying on the floor and Becker could look him over.

No breath. No pulse.

Now Becker found it hard to breathe for a whole different reason, as he frantically checked again and again, hoping he had been wrong. It didn’t matter to him that Jack was immortal, the sight of the man he loved lying dead in front of him still felt like his heart was ripped out.

“Come on, Jack, wake up,” he began muttering under his breath, even as he looked around, trying to blink through the smoke and flames that could be glimpsed through what was once a door but now was a gaping hole between bricks. He had no idea, none at all, where others were, how many survived, who might be injured, what the damage was. Even if the entire building was going to collapse any time soon.

“Come on, love, I need you to wake up right now, please, just wake up. Come back to me, Jack, please, please just come back.” He kept it up as a never ending litany of prayers to that strange power that kept Jack from staying dead, leaning over him and pressing one hand against his cheek, just hoping desperately to feel that craved for breath from the immortal.