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Title: "White"
Disclaimer: Being a bloke who likes to slash pretty men doesn't make me RTD, I don't work for the BBC, and as much as I might like to, I don't own Jack or Ianto or any part of Torchwood. I do, however, order pizza under that name on principle.
Pairings: None
Rating: PG
Notes/Summary: Just a bit of angsty Jack drabble.
Sometimes, when Jack slept, he dreamt in white. Billowing sheer curtains, clean cotton sheets, and pale skin; milk, teeth, and sclerae; bright light, paper, purity. He dreamt of a world that was pristine and new, free of darkness, free of filth and death.
It was only when he looked down and saw the blood dripping from his fingers that he noticed the faces in the white, accusing him in strident voices of leaving his mark on their world in lurid, sticky prints that he could not wash away.
“It’s not my fault. It’s not my fault. It’s not my fault...”
Disclaimer: Being a bloke who likes to slash pretty men doesn't make me RTD, I don't work for the BBC, and as much as I might like to, I don't own Jack or Ianto or any part of Torchwood. I do, however, order pizza under that name on principle.
Pairings: None
Rating: PG
Notes/Summary: Just a bit of angsty Jack drabble.
Sometimes, when Jack slept, he dreamt in white. Billowing sheer curtains, clean cotton sheets, and pale skin; milk, teeth, and sclerae; bright light, paper, purity. He dreamt of a world that was pristine and new, free of darkness, free of filth and death.
It was only when he looked down and saw the blood dripping from his fingers that he noticed the faces in the white, accusing him in strident voices of leaving his mark on their world in lurid, sticky prints that he could not wash away.
“It’s not my fault. It’s not my fault. It’s not my fault...”
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