Double Drabble: Life Unlived
Mar. 14th, 2026 05:54 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
badly_knittedTitle: Life Unlived
Author:
badly_knittedCharacters: Tosh.
Rating: PG
Written For: Challenge 908: Sad, at
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torchwood100.Spoilers: Exit Wounds.
Summary: Tosh knows she’s dying.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
A/N: Double drabble.
Tosh didn’t need to be a medical doctor to know she was dying. Gray’s bullet, still lodged somewhere inside her, had done a lot of damage; even if Owen had been here, or if she could have been rushed to hospital for emergency surgery, she didn’t think it would have made any difference.
Not that she would have let her friends take her anywhere, not while the city was in danger. She had a job to do, and there simply wasn’t anyone else who could take her place. She couldn’t leave her post, not until the meltdown at Turnmill was halted. What was her life comparted to the lives of thousands?
It was sad though; she’d hoped for more time. She had so many unfinished projects she’d been working on that she would have liked the opportunity to complete, and there were other things too. Books she’d never get a chance to read, movies she’d never see, all the little hopes that would forever be unfulfilled. And Owen, the great love of her life that never was, the hope that she’d held on to for years.
Here she sat, saving the world, and mourning her own death. How very Torchwood.
The End
Not that she would have let her friends take her anywhere, not while the city was in danger. She had a job to do, and there simply wasn’t anyone else who could take her place. She couldn’t leave her post, not until the meltdown at Turnmill was halted. What was her life comparted to the lives of thousands?
It was sad though; she’d hoped for more time. She had so many unfinished projects she’d been working on that she would have liked the opportunity to complete, and there were other things too. Books she’d never get a chance to read, movies she’d never see, all the little hopes that would forever be unfulfilled. And Owen, the great love of her life that never was, the hope that she’d held on to for years.
Here she sat, saving the world, and mourning her own death. How very Torchwood.
The End
