A mask that’s all it was, to hide my hurt, to hide my love, to even hide the descend of madness.
My mask was simply created the day I lost my wife, the day Jack Harkness came into my life, the day I was offered a job on her tombstone, the day I pushed myself into work to just have one moment of peace.
A mask that’s all it was, to hide from the team, to hide my sexual conquests, to hide my empathy for the creatures in the basement.
And only when I died, my mask cracked.
For this Torchwood community