A Torchwood ficlet. A contemplative Jack can be an odd thing.
Captain Jack Harkness
My first Torchwood drabble.
Take 999 by babaca
Jack has some deep thoughts.
Life: Take 999
It was the nine hundred and ninety-ninth time that he died. Even knowing that it was coming yet again, he still marveled that he could be surprised by the sudden cessation of life and breath.
The brightly lit tunnel stopped appearing in the five hundreds. He had stopped floating above his body in the seven hundred range. Nowadays it was merely nothingness. Sudden blackness that filled his eyes, his ears, his heart.
He knew there was a newbie nearby trying to resuscitate him and they were doing a rather piss-poor job of it. Times like this he really missed Tosh. Hell, he even missed Owen. He had hoped on one of these adventures into death that he might see one of them. If there was anyway either of them could do it just to rile him, he knew they would.
But it never happened.
Jack could sense light beginning to glow reddish behind his eyelids. He knew what was coming next.
That painful first gasp as air filled his lungs and his life would restart again like a well-worn video that someone just refuses to pull out of the player and put it away.
'Maybe next time will be different,' he thought. Jack smiled to himself, as he sat up, scaring the poor bystander who tried to revive him with CPR. 'Yeah, right.'
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