"I had a view," Jack echoed back in agreement with a smile of his own. He looked over at it, at his house, he could almost see himself playing outside, running, his hand in Gray's. His parents watching them and smiling. And somehow he could block out the bad. He didn't have to look and see the creatures in the sky or hear their screams, he didn't have to see his father dead lying in the sand.

He was glad of that.

"I'm a big slice of universe?" Jack asked, teasing. He shook his head though, sifting a little sand between his hands. "You're wrong though. No little Jack Harkness here." A sigh and a breath, "But, there was a little boy called Skye, once. And he was a bit like me."