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fandomweekly2024-04-01 11:03 am
m_findlow) wrote in fandomweekly2024-04-01 11:03 am
Entry tags:
[#214] FORGONE CONCLUSION (TORCHWOOD)
Theme Prompt: #214 - Pressure
Title: Forgone conclusion
Fandom: Torchwood
Rating/Warnings: PG. Pre-canon. Contains M-Preg. Sequel to “Vulnerable”
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 1,000 words
Summary: Jack gets a brief respite from his situation before it escalates.
Jack awoke in a panic, seeing nothing but darkness surrounding him. He gasped and then thrashed against nothing until a voice cut through the darkness, repeating reassuring words until he remembered where he was and how he’d gotten there. In the pitch black of the disused subway he was safe for now.
He rolled onto his side and wrapped his arms around himself, confirming his nightmare was still ongoing. His belly under his arms still loomed large; larger than before he’d fallen asleep to be sure. He pushed himself into a sitting position and a dim light erupted around the space as the girl flicked her torch back on, illuminating the crumbling brickwork.
‘How long was I out?’ Jack asked, rubbing pins and needles from his ankle.
‘A few hours,’ she replied.
Gods, he was sure it’d only been ten minutes. He could have closed his eyes right now and slept for hours the way he felt. He could only assume that was the physical toll that accelerated pregnancy took on the body, not that he’d ever been there before and had no plans on doing it again anytime soon.
He stretched out a grateful hand. ‘Jack Harkness,’ he said, introducing himself.
She took the hand and squeezed it rather than shaking it. ‘Casseius Gem,’ she said, offering up her own.
‘Professional grifter?’ he asked, taking in her scruffy appearance and obvious knowledge of all the hiding places in the city.
‘How did you know?’
He shrugged. ‘Takes one to know one. And thank you, by the way.’ He remembered he’d been rude during their earlier exchanges but was immensely grateful to still be alive, despite his current predicament. He stood up, feeling his bones protest at the movement, clutching his stomach and beginning to pace within the narrow reach of the lit area. He puffed in and out, feeling his spine ache as it tried to pull itself through his belly button and towards the ground. His breathing quickened as did his pacing, trying to reconcile his situation.
‘Are you okay?’ Cassieus asked, sounding concerned.
He twirled, sticking his belly out even further as it forced his t-shirt halfway up his torso. ‘Do I look okay to you?’
‘You know what I mean,’ she said, not pandering to his histrionics.
Jack paced some more, if only to prevent his body from finding its new centre of gravity, thinking things over, back and forth, back and forth. ‘How does the King have children?’ he finally asked.
‘I don't know.’
‘Okay, but you said it was a high crime for any man other than the King to get pregnant. So one presumes that means that sometimes men must get pregnant. How does that happen?’
‘Do I look like I go around finding criminals and asking them how they did it?’
‘I'm not a criminal. I'm not even a native.’
‘Obviously.’ She paused and considered. ‘I mean, not that I'm asking, but wouldn't it be the same way that, you know, women do it?’
‘Start to finish in seventy-two hours?’
‘Well, no…’
‘Then I doubt it, unless…’
‘Unless what?’
Jack rubbed a hand over his face, trying to piece together his first twenty four hours since arriving here. It went the way things usually did when he landed somewhere new. Scope out the place, look for the obvious opportunities to make fast money, and then go for drinks. Drinks. ‘Oh.’
‘Oh, what?’
‘There was a guy at the bar. Called himself a mystic, which I thought was kinda cute and a unique way of picking up.’ Jack remembered telling him he could read Jack's tarot cards any day and then they'd carried on drinking until Jack couldn't remember how he'd spent the rest of his evening. Probably in some seedy hotel room making out with Mister Mystic. Could that be the answer? But why? Why get Jack knocked up knowing it was a veritable death sentence?
‘How does it work?’ Jack asked, changing the direction of questions. ‘The King. Do they remove the baby or does it come naturally?’
‘You're seriously expecting me to know that?’
‘Kinda!’ Jack cried. ‘I've got less than a few hours to figure it out!’
‘Take it easy.’ She growled as his pacing got faster, not slower. ‘What do you think “take it easy” means?’
He yelped as something kicked from within, feeling it move. ‘Oh, sweet goddesses, it's alive in there! I need to get it out!’
She gripped him hard by the shoulders. ‘No, you need to get a grip.’
‘Pregnant here!’ he yelled back, not caring if he sounded petulant. He was utterly terrified. ‘I've been in wars, shot at, imprisoned, lost in the depths of space, held for interrogation and been fourteen seconds from death. This is not in the Time Agent's playbook of what to do in a crisis!’
‘So if you've done all that and survived then you can do this too. That little one inside you is counting on you to keep it safe.’
The words sobered him up in an instant. Yes, he was a Time Agent – well, former Time Agent – and he had been in some terrible scrapes, but mostly he'd only ever had to worry about saving his own bacon. Wanted or not, it wasn't the baby's fault it was there, needing to be brought into the world. Yes it was scary, and yes he was in totally uncharted waters, but Jack Harkness was a man who normally thrived under pressure.
‘Okay?’
Jack nodded. ‘Okay.’ He took a deep breath. Things would be okay. Then there was another sharp kick, followed by a ridiculously painful cramping in his gut that made him double over.
‘Uh, Jack?’
‘What?’
She shone her torch lower down, revealing the wet stain down his trousers. ‘I think we just answered your earlier question.’
Another painful cramp took over him and he cried out in several different languages, using every expletive in the book. Forget cool under pressure, he was going into labour!
Title: Forgone conclusion
Fandom: Torchwood
Rating/Warnings: PG. Pre-canon. Contains M-Preg. Sequel to “Vulnerable”
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 1,000 words
Summary: Jack gets a brief respite from his situation before it escalates.
Jack awoke in a panic, seeing nothing but darkness surrounding him. He gasped and then thrashed against nothing until a voice cut through the darkness, repeating reassuring words until he remembered where he was and how he’d gotten there. In the pitch black of the disused subway he was safe for now.
He rolled onto his side and wrapped his arms around himself, confirming his nightmare was still ongoing. His belly under his arms still loomed large; larger than before he’d fallen asleep to be sure. He pushed himself into a sitting position and a dim light erupted around the space as the girl flicked her torch back on, illuminating the crumbling brickwork.
‘How long was I out?’ Jack asked, rubbing pins and needles from his ankle.
‘A few hours,’ she replied.
Gods, he was sure it’d only been ten minutes. He could have closed his eyes right now and slept for hours the way he felt. He could only assume that was the physical toll that accelerated pregnancy took on the body, not that he’d ever been there before and had no plans on doing it again anytime soon.
He stretched out a grateful hand. ‘Jack Harkness,’ he said, introducing himself.
She took the hand and squeezed it rather than shaking it. ‘Casseius Gem,’ she said, offering up her own.
‘Professional grifter?’ he asked, taking in her scruffy appearance and obvious knowledge of all the hiding places in the city.
‘How did you know?’
He shrugged. ‘Takes one to know one. And thank you, by the way.’ He remembered he’d been rude during their earlier exchanges but was immensely grateful to still be alive, despite his current predicament. He stood up, feeling his bones protest at the movement, clutching his stomach and beginning to pace within the narrow reach of the lit area. He puffed in and out, feeling his spine ache as it tried to pull itself through his belly button and towards the ground. His breathing quickened as did his pacing, trying to reconcile his situation.
‘Are you okay?’ Cassieus asked, sounding concerned.
He twirled, sticking his belly out even further as it forced his t-shirt halfway up his torso. ‘Do I look okay to you?’
‘You know what I mean,’ she said, not pandering to his histrionics.
Jack paced some more, if only to prevent his body from finding its new centre of gravity, thinking things over, back and forth, back and forth. ‘How does the King have children?’ he finally asked.
‘I don't know.’
‘Okay, but you said it was a high crime for any man other than the King to get pregnant. So one presumes that means that sometimes men must get pregnant. How does that happen?’
‘Do I look like I go around finding criminals and asking them how they did it?’
‘I'm not a criminal. I'm not even a native.’
‘Obviously.’ She paused and considered. ‘I mean, not that I'm asking, but wouldn't it be the same way that, you know, women do it?’
‘Start to finish in seventy-two hours?’
‘Well, no…’
‘Then I doubt it, unless…’
‘Unless what?’
Jack rubbed a hand over his face, trying to piece together his first twenty four hours since arriving here. It went the way things usually did when he landed somewhere new. Scope out the place, look for the obvious opportunities to make fast money, and then go for drinks. Drinks. ‘Oh.’
‘Oh, what?’
‘There was a guy at the bar. Called himself a mystic, which I thought was kinda cute and a unique way of picking up.’ Jack remembered telling him he could read Jack's tarot cards any day and then they'd carried on drinking until Jack couldn't remember how he'd spent the rest of his evening. Probably in some seedy hotel room making out with Mister Mystic. Could that be the answer? But why? Why get Jack knocked up knowing it was a veritable death sentence?
‘How does it work?’ Jack asked, changing the direction of questions. ‘The King. Do they remove the baby or does it come naturally?’
‘You're seriously expecting me to know that?’
‘Kinda!’ Jack cried. ‘I've got less than a few hours to figure it out!’
‘Take it easy.’ She growled as his pacing got faster, not slower. ‘What do you think “take it easy” means?’
He yelped as something kicked from within, feeling it move. ‘Oh, sweet goddesses, it's alive in there! I need to get it out!’
She gripped him hard by the shoulders. ‘No, you need to get a grip.’
‘Pregnant here!’ he yelled back, not caring if he sounded petulant. He was utterly terrified. ‘I've been in wars, shot at, imprisoned, lost in the depths of space, held for interrogation and been fourteen seconds from death. This is not in the Time Agent's playbook of what to do in a crisis!’
‘So if you've done all that and survived then you can do this too. That little one inside you is counting on you to keep it safe.’
The words sobered him up in an instant. Yes, he was a Time Agent – well, former Time Agent – and he had been in some terrible scrapes, but mostly he'd only ever had to worry about saving his own bacon. Wanted or not, it wasn't the baby's fault it was there, needing to be brought into the world. Yes it was scary, and yes he was in totally uncharted waters, but Jack Harkness was a man who normally thrived under pressure.
‘Okay?’
Jack nodded. ‘Okay.’ He took a deep breath. Things would be okay. Then there was another sharp kick, followed by a ridiculously painful cramping in his gut that made him double over.
‘Uh, Jack?’
‘What?’
She shone her torch lower down, revealing the wet stain down his trousers. ‘I think we just answered your earlier question.’
Another painful cramp took over him and he cried out in several different languages, using every expletive in the book. Forget cool under pressure, he was going into labour!
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nice work!
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