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Title: All the small things
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Jack
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 1,004 words
Content notes: none
Author notes: Written for Challenge 194 - Toes
Summary: Some things last forever

He took in the sight of the tiny baby in the crib and his heart felt all aflutter. She was his, all his, this tiny little thing that they’d created. She had his blood running through her veins. They’d be forever connected by it, no matter what happened.

He took in all of her delicate features, the way her little face scrunched up in sleep and her hands curled around the edge of the blanket, but it was her feet that fascinated him most, poking out at the bottom. Her whole foot would have been smaller than his big toe, and as he reached down to touch it, his fingers looked like those of a giant. As he gently gripped the first of those tiny little toes between his thumb and forefinger, watching it disappear completely from view, its warmth still present beneath his pads, he began to hum a little rhyme.

'This little piggy went to market,' he said, giving it the gentlest of wiggles.

'This little piggy stayed home,' he said, giving the next tiny toe a little jiggle.

'This little piggy had roast beef,' he said, realising how ridiculous a concept that actually was, and drifting off into a distant memory.

'And this little piggy had none...'

The rhyme was all a bit silly, he thought, but his mum had teased him with it endlessly, so he knew the words by heart. He'd asked her what a piggy was, and she told him she’d never seen one herself. Her grandmother had taught her that rhyme, and her grandmother before that, and that it had been passed down in her family for generations, amongst other rhymes and stories. She said they went back thousands of years but he didn’t believe her. Apparently a piggy was a big pink creature with a snout and floppy ears, short legs and a curly tail. It sounded like the most alien thing he’d ever heard of.

'Do they still exist, mum?'

'Somewhere out there, I’m sure,' she said.

'One day when I’m all grown up I’m going to travel the universe and find one,' he’d replied.

'You’ll have to take a picture for me then, son.'

He frowned. 'But you’re coming with me, aren't you mum?'

She laughed. 'And what would you want with your old mum following you around when you’re having adventures? Who’d look after your dad?'

'He’s coming too!' Jack cried out, worried that his mum might leave his dad behind.  

'And what about your little brother or sister?' she asked, gently stroking the swell of her stomach.

'Them too,' he said, reaching over to lean his head against her belly. 'Do you hear that?' he asked her stomach. 'You’re coming too.'

You’re coming too, he thought again, grabbing the last tiny toe.

'And this little one went wee, wee, wee, all the way home.'

Gray giggled and burbled, squealing with delight as Jack tickled his toes.

'Son?' his mother called out from the kitchen below. 'Is everything alright?'

She didn’t wait for her six year old son to reply, instead padding up the stairs to check on them both.

She shouldn’t have worried. Jack was leaning over the edge of the cot, playing with Gray’s tiny feet as he gurgled and squirmed, little smile playing across his face, eyes dancing with glee. It warmed her heart to see the two of them together. She’d worried that Jack might be jealous or bored by his baby brother and all the attention he garnered from his doting parents. Instead, he was fascinated, and spent all of his spare time in the room, telling him stories, signing songs, showing him things he'd found out amongst the dunes.

He couldn’t run or catch a ball with Jack, and he couldn’t go outside with his dad, collecting seashells from the shore. He wasn’t even old enough to speak, but Jack adored him all the same. When he gripped Jack's fingers in his teensy hand, Jack knew that Gray understood. They’d be able to do all of that stuff when he was a little older, and Jack couldn’t wait for that day to arrive. Having someone else to play with was the best gift his mum could have given him.

'What are you two up to in here?' she asked, running her hand through Jack’s soft brown hair, and leaning over the cot to adjust the blanket covering her little baby boy.

'We were playing piggies.'

'Oh, were you now? And how many piggies are there?'

'Five.'

'And how many piggies does Gray have?'

'Five,' he replied proudly, knowing he could count even higher than five if she asked.

'Very good, son.'

'They’re so tiny,' he said, reaching in to touch them again.

'All babies are tiny. You were that small once upon a time.'

'No I wasn’t!'

She laughed at him. 'Yes, you were,' she said, grabbing him in a big hug and lifting him into her lap. 'You were so small that I could fit all of you in one arm.'

He didn’t think he’d ever been that small, but he loved the feeling of being wrapped up in her arms. Hugs with dad were good, but hugs with mum were better.

'Gray will be big like me too one day, won’t he?'

'He will. But until then he’ll need his big brother to look after him and keep him safe. And when he’s as big as you, you’ll be even bigger, and he’ll still need you to look after him. You'll always be his big brother, and he'll always need you.'

'I’ll take good care of him, mum,' he promised.

'I know you will,' she said, kissing him, her voice fading away, as did the rest of the memory.

Jack scooped up the tiny little bundle from the crib and held its warmth tight against his chest.

'I promise to keep your safe, little one,' he said, breathing in her soft smell. 'Nothing will ever harm you as long as I’m here to protect you.'