Inspiration: Torchwood, Jack, Gray
Disclaimer: I own nothing, which is so very sad.
Summary: A little ficlet I wrote on the plane. Spoilers from 2x05 and 2x13.
He remembers only in dreams.
"Take Gray and keep him safe!"
He remembers holding his brother's hand tightly as they ran from the chaos. Following the crowd of panicked people into the shallow waters before turning back from the sudden carnage.
"Get out, son!"
He remembers being bemused as unknown weapons tore holes through the water while bodies fell around them. Neighbors. Friends. The sea turning red as they ran up the beach.
He remembers his heart pounding, the sound of his harsh breathing drowning out the screams behind him. Falling in the sand, then getting back up and running again. Always running.
"Gray, where are you? Gray!"
He remembers the moment he noticed his brother was missing. Frantically searching among the fallen, retracing his steps. Past the faceless injured, looking for the one face as familiar to him as his own. The despair. The overwhelming guilt as realization set in.
"Where is he, son? Gray!"
He remembers his mother's face when she discovered she had lost her husband and her youngest son.
"No, not my little boy!"
In the morning, he forgets.