How To Kill A Loved One

Your thoughts are set on what is to happen. What is to happen? You don’t know. Sticking the key in the SUV engine, you start the car. Nervous hands race to the wheel. You don’t know whom for. Suzie? Or Gwen? Owen sits next to you. You swerve behind a van, taking over as you reach the motorway.

Could you really do it? Could you really kill her? Could you ever kill her?

Your phone rings.

‘Hello?’

‘Did you like the poem, Jack?’ Suzie’s voice trails down the phone. Your eyes are fixed on the road. Try not to remember.

‘Suzie, don’t let her die,’ you shake your head as if she can see you, ‘the glove is killing Gwen and keeping you alive.’

‘I know,’ She continues.

‘Then stop!’ You argue back. This is all a mystery for you. Why is she doing this?

‘But I get to live! Wh-Why would I stop?’

‘For Gwen’s sake,’ you say almost sadly. An expression of confused worry, hatred and anger replaces your grim one. You hear Suzie’s heavy breathing down the phone.

‘She replaced me, now I’m doing the same to her, isn’t that fair?’ she replies. It’s not a game.

You sigh, ‘Suzie, we got a tracker on that car, we’re going to catch up. I promise.’

‘And what happens then?’ she asks. You really should stop doing this. All this time she’s been back and you’ve treated her like dirt. But isn’t that what you did before? Isn’t that what you want to do now? Is it? Is it?

‘If she’s dead,’ you say, swallowing back words of kindness, replaced by the words that ruin, ‘I’m going to kill you Suzie Costello,’ you pause, but you’re not feeling that is was the wrong thing to say, more or less, it was right, it was meant to happen. Because you aren’t meant to be. You know that. From two different worlds. One roams the Underworld whilst the other is forced to stay alive forever. Different. Completely and totally different from each other. Is that why you love her?

‘I’m going to kill you for the last a final time,’ you stay strong. You want to cry. Want to take it back. Mean the opposite. But you’re Jack Harkness, and you have to protect Gwen. At all costs.

‘But would you?’ She sounded so desperate, lonely, ‘When there’s a part of her that’s now me? … Could you really do that? … If I’m the only thing left of her?’

You break, ‘Why are you doing this?’

‘Because life is all!’ she breaks. You both break. Desperate. Longing. But you can’t. You won’t. You just can’t, ‘Jack!’ she’s crying. Exactly what you want to do. Break down and cry. Tell her you love her. But you can’t. And you won’t. Too much at risk, ‘You should know! … I’d do anything to stay,’ she’s healed again, getting her strong back. You realize you must too.

‘Suzie, please… Just stop,’ you plead. Not really sure if a plead for Gwen, or a plead for himself.

‘She’s a real find this one… Gwen Cooper, she’s better than me… She’s so much better,’ No one could replace you, ‘I was never any good!’ You were the best. Don’t say that, ‘Jack I’m sorry!’

You can’t figure out whether it’s because of Gwen or because of yourself. Of what you did. Of what she did. Of what you both did.

‘Suzie!’ you’re not angry. Just surprised. Shocked.

You pull at by the dock. Owen cocks his gun, and you get out. And run. Run as if Hell itself is chasing you. Suzie is leaning over Gwen, stroking her hair. You run faster. Faster. Overtake Owen. Faster. Faster. You reach her. She stands, facing you. You draw your Webley, and point it at her. Point it straight at her, why her? Again you feel like crying. Just tell her to stop. Tell her to die. At least you could love her in peace then. This was just too hard. Just too hard.

‘Let her go,’ you say.

‘I can’t,’ she says, almost triumphant. Your gazes are locked. An wicked grin is forming on her face.

‘Let Gwen go!’ you’re talking to her as if Gwen is her. You do care about Gwen. But not that much. Why Suzie? Why Suzie?

‘I can’t!’

‘Owen, how is she?’ you call back to him, not turning. Not flinching. Not taking your eyes off of her, ‘Owen! Report!’

‘I think we’re too late,’ He replies.

‘If I kill you does she live?’ you ask the burning question. But you don’t want to kill her. You want to hate her. To loathe her. But it’s impossible. With ever wicked thing she does you love her more.

‘But you can’t Jack,’ she replies, You’re right, I can’t, ‘I’m the last thing left of Gwen Cooper, can’t you see it? Can’t you see it? Just the smallest bit of her?’

You have to. You have to. You have to kill her. Kill her. You have to. Kill her.

‘Not one bit,’ you shoot. She falls. You flinch. Is she dead? You want to bend down and mend her, to tell her it’s okay and you love her. But you don’t. You stay there. Watching. You turn to face Owen, then look back at her again.

‘Owen? Anything?’ he cuts his hand in the air to say ‘no’.

‘Nothing!’ he calls.

‘But I broke the connection!’ you’re desperate. Confused. Suzie’s hand moves. You run forward, gun still pointing. Her eyes are open. She even smiles.

‘I killed you,’ you sound as if you’re trying to convince yourself that you even fired the gun. She starts to laugh.

‘I can’t die!’ she laughs. Bang. You shoot. You don’t know what this feeling is. Anger, as if rejected love. Bang. She breaths in, ‘I’m never gonna die…’

‘How much more of this do you want?’ Bang. Bang. She turns over, her blood stained coat showing.

‘It’s all your fault Jack, you recruited me,’ she says. You loved her. You still do.

‘The glove,’ it hits you. You phone Tosh, tell her to destroy it. All the while not taking your eyes off of Suzie. It’s all happening too fast. One moment she’s alive. Then one last gulp of air… And she’s dead. You stand there. Desperate. Alone. Alone again. But it’s still pulsing through you. That horrible emotion. Love.

I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you… Suzie Costello, I love you.

Cold. You touch her forehead. Cold. So cold. So… very cold. It’s late. Eleven thirty. You’ve spent the rest of the day here. Five hours. Five bloody hours. Looking at her. Touching her. Feeling her. Loving her. Even her hair feels dead. The curls didn’t have that same bounce of shy and gentle as they did all those years ago. You answer your question from earlier.

Yes. I can kill her. Even if it kills you too.

You say you should write a book. You’ve said this many times.

‘I love you Suzie,’ you whisper. You zip the bag up, and put her back in the cold. Shut the door. Finger the numbers. 006.

Your book. You have it planned. It shall start.

How to kill a loved one.