Chapter Eleven, Part One: The Hero with a Thousand FacebooksMature

Jack Harkness reaches for another drawer in the morgue. 

Grey handle, grey metal storage drawer.  

“You awake little brother? This one’s hotter than the last one!” 

Grey Harkness groans and smacks his forehead. 

“Why are you always like this? We are trapped in a morgue! With dead people! It’s like being on Boeshane, only with other people! What are you…” 

Jack waves his brother off, his free hand wrapping around a dead man’s wrist. 

“This one looks promising. I wonder if he lost his wife… his clothes sound like he did.” 

Jack pats the man’s hair and sighs, then sticks the hand back in the pocket he found it in.

“Somebody’s got a twisted sense of humor, locking us in here.” 

“It’s a Dream, Grey- I’ll find a way out. I promise.” 

Jack cringes; he didn’t catch himself.  

Grey kicks a drawer and frowns.  

“I remember the last time you said you’d protect me.” 

Jack looks up from the floor, where he’s crouching eye level with another corpse, another man, big chin, bowtie, flop of hair. 

“Nice ass.... too bad. It looks familiar.” 

Grey takes off his shoe and throws it at the door. 

“Did you not see the locked door? We’re trapped in here! Just sit and wait. I’m sure whoever did this will…” 

“Grey, it’s. A. Dream. I’ve been here before. Just… follow my lead, okay? We can do this together if you’d just…” 

Jack reaches for another drawer.   

“Jack, did you hear that?” 

Jack balls his fist and smacks it to his forehead. 

“Look Grey, if you keep interrupting me we are never going to get out of this damn hole! Now stop pestering me and…” 

“Jack, I hear water! Check that one over there! I think it came from that one!”

The End

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