Jack

Jack lowered his arms, letting the gun fall to his side as he watched Ianto. He felt ill as the figure looked down in dismay. The words ‘wrong choice’ rang through his head as he expected to hear them once more from that disembodied voice. He expected the figure to look up and even as he bled out from his stomach, it would show it was nothing more than human. A very important human, to him.

But when it looked up with those oil-slick eyes all of that despair and panic hardened to ice and steel. An illusion, as he had assumed, but that didn’t make it any easier. Someone or something was toying with him, and he didn’t like it one bit. How many layers deep did this illusion go? He suspected the things didn’t even really look like Weevils, at all. Just another ploy to get inside his head.

Jack didn’t saying to the Doctor at first, as he fount that cold, hard place once again. He tugged his arm free of the time lord’s grasp and crossed the distance between him the creature in a few broad strides. He brought the gun up and pointed it at the head of the thing. There was no hesitation. He simply aimed and pulled the trigger before he could second guess even the partial illusion of Ianto still lying there.

He turned on his heel and shoved the gun back into his holster. “Now we’re leaving,” he said to the Doctor, heading down the path of multi-colored stones. It was an impressive stride, but lacked its usual dramatic flair as his long coat was stashed in their room, the heat not allowing for heavy wool.