Title: Names and Memory
By: Kilrez
Pairing: gen
Rating: G
Note: Beta-ed by Zabrak Prophet. I already don't know what I'd do without her, and this is only the second story she'd helped me with. Spoilers for 'Captain Jack Harkness.' This story adresses a question raised therin.
Summary: Tosh follows up after 'Captain Jack Harkness.' 'Jack, what's your real name' Surprisingly, she actually gets an answer. Of sorts.

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'Jack, what's your real name?'

Jack looked up from his paperwork, surprised. Tosh was standing in his office doorway, looking a little nervous. It was very late at night. He thought she'd gone home, along with everyone else. Concentrating on her question, he gave her a wide, disarming smile.

'Captain Jack Harkness,' he replied smoothly, starting to run through ways to divert the conversation.

'No. That's just a name you took off a dead officer.' She looked uneasy, but he could see the determination in her stance. She'd obviously been working up the courage to ask him this for a long time. He couldn't help but flinch at the memories dug up- of the real Jack Harkness, and his handsome, pain-filled eyes.

'A name's just what everyone calls you,' he dissembled, his tone clearly indicating that this was the final word.

There was a long moment of silence, which Jack used to read through the document before him. Or tried to. Tosh was just standing there, not saying anything, and clearly not satisfied with his answer.

'Fine. What did your mother call you?' she asked, finally.

Jack looked up at her and grimaced. 'What mother?' he said dryly, hoping that would touch her pity nerve enough to get her to leave him alone.

Her eyes grew a little wider, and the pity was there, sure enough, and yet… it still wasn't putting her off. 'Father then? What were you called as a child?'

Despite everything he'd been trying to avoid, that question brought a flood of long-suppressed memories back. Of child soldiers and a barely understood war, raging around him as he'd scavenged, and stolen, and begged to find enough food just to keep going. Of the hard times that had forged his inner self into a hard, unreachable kernel. Of his best friend, tortured to death, aged nine. Of surviving, until suddenly it was all over- the good guys triumphing, life abruptly getting a whole lot 'better'and having to learn to become soft, to relax, to try and forget…

He realised that Tosh was still waiting for an answer, and caught in the smells and sounds of his distant past, he gave in. 'Child number D61-743,' he said, in a brief moment of brutal honesty, as he stared into space. His reverie lasted only for a second, then his eyes snapped back to focus on Tosh, a self-deprecating smile spreading disarmingly across his features.

He shrugged easily, like it didn't bother him at all, like he was just joking. He suspected that Tosh was seeing straight through his lies, but was immensely grateful when she simply nodded and quietly quit the room. More memories drifted back, unbidden, and the Captain sighed and put his head in his hands. His name was Jack now. He anchored himself to that, and forced the memories down.

The End

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