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Acquainted with Life

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Summary: Inhaling deeply, Jack looked up at the monitor to the morgue, his fingers steepled together, to where Buffy lie- to realize, long seconds later, that the slab was empty. (Sequel to "Acquainted with Death")

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Dr. Who/Torchwood > Buffy-CenteredKoohiiCafeFR717630289711 Aug 1311 Aug 13Yes
Title: Acquainted with Life
Author: Koohii Cafe
Rating: FR7
Crossover: BtVS/Torchwood
Disclaimer: Since I am a poor chickadee with no wealth to speak of, I think it's safe to say that neither BtVS nor Torchwood are mine. ^^;
Written for: TtH August Fic A Day Challenge
Summary: Inhaling deeply, Jack looked up at the monitor to the morgue, his fingers steepled together, to where Buffy lie- to realize, long seconds later, that the slab was empty.
Author’s Note: Sequel to “Acquainted with Death





Acquainted with Life





He’d sent the team home for the evening; not a single member of Torchwood Three could concentrate today, not after what had happened. Not after losing one of their own. And what a woman they’d lost; Buffy had been vibrant, full of life, of fun and excitement, and she’d been breathing new life into the team that Jack hadn’t even realized was missing. Now all that life, all the joy and cheer she’d emanated, was gone, lying still on a cold slab in the morgue. A pointless death, her life sacrificed to protect his, when his life didn’t matter. His life wasn’t even possible to take, not and keep, which made the loss they’d suffered that much worse. She’d sacrificed herself not knowing that it was unnecessary, needless, and the guilt of that knowledge weighed Jack down. Inhaling deeply, Jack looked up at the monitor to the morgue, his fingers steepled together, to where she lie- to realize, long seconds later, that the slab was empty.

He was on his feet instantly, running full force downwards through the Hub towards the morgue, his senses on full alert. He was the only one still here, there was absolutely no reason Buffy’s body should be anywhere but where he’d left her, and the fact that she wasn’t... He hit the morgue at full speed, boots clapping loudly on the cold floor, and then- he stopped. Suddenly. Because-

“Jack?”

The blonde was standing just out of camera view, still in the bloody clothes she’d died in, and the look on her face was a mixture of confusion, horror, and anger. His heart stopped, as she turned, as she strode towards him, and then suddenly he had his arms full of her. Instinct kicked in before he could think, and he held her as he felt her shudder, felt her breath hitch, her face buried in his chest, and in his shock, he rubbed one hand on her back soothingly, absently. He couldn’t understand how she was standing here, alive, as if she hadn’t been shot only hours ago, hadn’t died and lain cold and still in the morgue, lifeless and empty.

“Buffy, what-”

“I’m going to kill her.” The words were almost too quiet to hear, muffled into his chest, and there was pain, anger, not-quite-tears written in her voice. Confused, disbelieving, Jack’s hands slipped to her shoulders, pulling her back just enough that he could see her face. Her eyes shone with unshed tears, but also with that anger, and with determination.

“Kill who?” He had nothing but questions, in this moment. He had to know, had to understand how she’d come back. Like he did. She inhaled deeply, steeled herself, and spoke again.

“A friend... She- oh god, Jack, you must be-” She broke off, tried to pull away completely, but he didn’t let her. He held her still, facing him, and didn’t budge even when that anger in her eyes flared. Then she spoke quietly, dangerously. “Let me go, Jack.”

“No.” He wouldn’t. He had to know. He pinned her with his gaze, his hands firm on her shoulders. “You need to explain what’s going on. Ten minutes ago, you were dead, and now you’re not. And you know something. You need to tell me what that something is.”

She sighed. Deflated. Her head fell forward, but he remained cautious still. He’d seen her fight, had seen how impossibly strong she was, even though she hid it, how effortlessly and skillfully she could take down an opponent in seconds. But she didn’t, not this time. She spoke again, the words strained.

“A friend- a couple years ago, I died. She couldn’t cope, and she turned to dark magic to bring me back, with the help of our other friends. I didn’t-” Her voice hitched, and there was that pain from before. “I didn’t think- it’d happen again. But something- something must have stuck.” Her voice was thick, and Jack’s heart stopped, not for the first time that day. Gently, he let one shoulder go, reached beneath her chin to lift it up, so he could see her face; the tears that had been unshed earlier now slipped down her cheeks.

“It’ll be okay,” he told her softly, but she shook her head, and then fell into his chest once more. Silently, he wrapped his arms around her and held her. Because this- this was something he understood.

The End

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