@harknesstm }{ continued from {@}
“Oh, Jack...” John gave a little tisk tisk as he pulled the knife out, catching Jack’s listless, lifeless body with his good arm. He dropped the knife, flexing the hand of his now sore wrist, glad at least it didn’t feel broken.
“If only you knew, luv.” Gently, he laid Jack down on the ground and knelt beside him, then opened up his vortex manipulator and punched in some coordinates. Why did it always seem that, in order to save Jack from a greater catastrophe, he had to kill him? Oh, he knew he’d be in a world of hurt when Jack came back to life, he expected a pummeling and a lecture and maybe a kick in the ass to boot.
But he had good reason. At least, he kept telling himself that.
He had good reason.
“I know it’s hard for you, but just this once, Jack, you have to trust me on this.”
Pressing a button on his wrist strap, it sent the both of them hurtling through the vortex and in no time at all, they wound up in a place that would look remotely familiar to Jack, if he remembered it. One of John’s many safe houses, but this was a special one. This was the one only he and Jack knew about.
Laying Jack on the couch, John went to grab a large bottle of whisky and two glasses, pouring them both full and putting them on the table between the couch and an arm chair. All the furniture looked like they’d seen better days in a disco tech from 1970s Earth, but then John had always been a collector.
Now all he had to do was wait for Jack to come back.
“Please come back.”
