I Will Follow You Into the Dark
Chapter Three
Locating a vial of the precious Zahdanium breath proves to be an even more arduous task than Jack had expected. He’s been to six planets already. He’s thought of every single tale of the stuff he’s heard throughout his very long lifetime and they’ve all fallen through; either the vial has been sold or has never been there in the first place.
The breath is a very controversial item to bring up into conversation in certain societies. A few weeks ago he’d mentioned it in passing to a seemingly timid merchant. Timid of course, until Jack had been stabbed through the heart with a Verdarsian blade.
As he laid there in the dark alleyway of the busy market place, blood pouring out of the gaping wound in his chest, he realized it was the first time since their deaths happened that he didn’t want to die. He didn’t willingly shut his eyes and pray for that precious darkness to swallow him whole and never spit his sorry soul out again. He prayed for life. He clung to the dimming light he could make out from his already shut eyes. He scraped his fingers across the earth, red staining his fingertips. He didn’t want to die. Death wasn’t as welcome as it had been for most of his immortal life. Death held him back now, it postponed his efforts to locate the vial that held the key to bringing his lover back.
The darkness was even less inviting than usual. It swallowed him whole. Most of the time when he dies it’s just dark, blank, nothingness. The loneliness is always there, that sinking feeling that he’s alone in the dark, shouting out for nothing and no one to hear. But other times, much rarer times, he’d feel something there. A faint glimmer of a presence and that presence was terrifying. This was one of those times.
Jack tried to focus on the source, trying to reach out with his hands in the direction of the ominous presence but he felt nothing. He could almost sense the cold coming from it, unsettling to say the least. He shouted out, demanding it to show itself, to tell him why it’s here but as always he received nothing in return.
He would have run towards it but that’s the funny thing about this place, the place he goes when he dies. He can think and feel and shout but he’s not quite sure if he has a body. He’s stuck in the same place, seeing pitch black darkness. Sometimes he welcomes the feeling because he has endured so much in his long life but now? Now he wants it to go away. He’s been alone for almost two months now. No one to talk to, confide in. Just himself. He’s made his quest to save Ianto his main priority and he’s only died twice in the process.
Jack shouted out once more before feeling the first signs of resurrection. The darkness wasn’t quite so dark anymore. It’s lightened and getting lighter. He was starting to feel his surroundings. First the hard surface of the alley, then the weight of his soaked shirt and his coat, finally the long blade still skewered through his chest. He gasped his first breath, expecting to feel the reassuring weight of Ianto’s arms around his waist for a moment before regaining his senses. He was alone. Almost as alone as he is in that place he goes when he dies. But he’s not without a plan.
The immortal looked down at the blade imbedded in his chest and took a breath before pulling it out as quickly as he could. It hurt, but sometimes the pain is refreshing. The pain shows that he’s alive. He’s back. He stood on shaky legs, reaching a hand out to steady himself on the side of a building for a moment before feeling better enough to walk out. He couldn’t have been out too long but long enough for the merchant to run off. Even if the merchant was still there he wouldn’t have done anything. All of his efforts were focused on locating a vial. The vial holds the key to getting his lover back and nothing, not even a good vengeful brawl is worth stopping for it. He found a docking port, easily hid himself away in the luggage container and stowed away on the cargo ship to another planet. He felt a bit like his younger self, the charming con man, former time agent that’d jet through space only this time he had a mission. Jack muttered under his breath, “Yan. I’ll get you out of the darkness. I promise.”
The breath is a very controversial item to bring up into conversation in certain societies. A few weeks ago he’d mentioned it in passing to a seemingly timid merchant. Timid of course, until Jack had been stabbed through the heart with a Verdarsian blade.
As he laid there in the dark alleyway of the busy market place, blood pouring out of the gaping wound in his chest, he realized it was the first time since their deaths happened that he didn’t want to die. He didn’t willingly shut his eyes and pray for that precious darkness to swallow him whole and never spit his sorry soul out again. He prayed for life. He clung to the dimming light he could make out from his already shut eyes. He scraped his fingers across the earth, red staining his fingertips. He didn’t want to die. Death wasn’t as welcome as it had been for most of his immortal life. Death held him back now, it postponed his efforts to locate the vial that held the key to bringing his lover back.
The darkness was even less inviting than usual. It swallowed him whole. Most of the time when he dies it’s just dark, blank, nothingness. The loneliness is always there, that sinking feeling that he’s alone in the dark, shouting out for nothing and no one to hear. But other times, much rarer times, he’d feel something there. A faint glimmer of a presence and that presence was terrifying. This was one of those times.
Jack tried to focus on the source, trying to reach out with his hands in the direction of the ominous presence but he felt nothing. He could almost sense the cold coming from it, unsettling to say the least. He shouted out, demanding it to show itself, to tell him why it’s here but as always he received nothing in return.
He would have run towards it but that’s the funny thing about this place, the place he goes when he dies. He can think and feel and shout but he’s not quite sure if he has a body. He’s stuck in the same place, seeing pitch black darkness. Sometimes he welcomes the feeling because he has endured so much in his long life but now? Now he wants it to go away. He’s been alone for almost two months now. No one to talk to, confide in. Just himself. He’s made his quest to save Ianto his main priority and he’s only died twice in the process.
Jack shouted out once more before feeling the first signs of resurrection. The darkness wasn’t quite so dark anymore. It’s lightened and getting lighter. He was starting to feel his surroundings. First the hard surface of the alley, then the weight of his soaked shirt and his coat, finally the long blade still skewered through his chest. He gasped his first breath, expecting to feel the reassuring weight of Ianto’s arms around his waist for a moment before regaining his senses. He was alone. Almost as alone as he is in that place he goes when he dies. But he’s not without a plan.
The immortal looked down at the blade imbedded in his chest and took a breath before pulling it out as quickly as he could. It hurt, but sometimes the pain is refreshing. The pain shows that he’s alive. He’s back. He stood on shaky legs, reaching a hand out to steady himself on the side of a building for a moment before feeling better enough to walk out. He couldn’t have been out too long but long enough for the merchant to run off. Even if the merchant was still there he wouldn’t have done anything. All of his efforts were focused on locating a vial. The vial holds the key to getting his lover back and nothing, not even a good vengeful brawl is worth stopping for it. He found a docking port, easily hid himself away in the luggage container and stowed away on the cargo ship to another planet. He felt a bit like his younger self, the charming con man, former time agent that’d jet through space only this time he had a mission. Jack muttered under his breath, “Yan. I’ll get you out of the darkness. I promise.”
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