The first time Jack awoke after dying, it reminded him of the time the Master had decided that smothering was a good way to kill him.
The second time, it was the crushing feeling of all that Earth on top of him.
The third time…was different.
The weight was gone, as was the sensation of the lack of air in his lungs.
Jack lay there, puzzled.
“Did you honestly think we would leave you alone to die, over and over again?”
Jack laughed. He couldn’t help it. It might have been pitch black and he couldn’t move, and there were a lot of somethings crawling all over him, but he could still laugh.
“You are the chosen mate of our son, we will not let you suffer.”
“We have not met…yet. But we know of you, Jack Harkness. Your coming has long been foretold. You are the chosen mate of the one who will be The Last. And we shall protect you with all of our power.”
Jack could feel it. He could feel the Earth around him, embracing him; the Air that was allowing him to breathe; the Fire that was now warming him; the Water that was keeping him alive. He might have been trapped deep below where Cardiff would one day be, but he wasn’t alone.
“Sleep, child. Sleep the long centuries away, and our magic shall watch over you until it is time for you to arise once more.”
Somewhere out there, his mate was growing up in an isolated valley in the mountains. Someday, he would have a vision of a mating with a blue-grey dragon. In the future, a jaded immortal would meet the last dragon in the world.
Jack slept, and he dreamed, deep within the Earth that cradled him like his long-lost parent, protecting him from harm as Cardiff grew over him. As the magic of the four Great Dragons surrounded him, and altered him in ways he wouldn’t realise for centuries.
Jack Harkness…Jamys Franklinson…slept, and dreamed, and changed.