[Fic] A Shadow Passed
Title: A Shadow Passed
Fandom: Torchwood
Pairing/Characters: Jack/Ianto; past Ianto/Lisa
Warnings: canon character death
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~500
Summary: Ianto remembers Lisa.
Notes: Post-Cyberwoman. Written for torchwood_las, challenge #2. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated. :)
The image appears so often in his mind that Ianto has given up on pushing it away. Instead he lets Lisa stand there, her body wrapped and molded in metal. Her skin is a muddy, bruised purple where the silver makes contact with her thigh, her hip, her breasts.
He wishes he could purge it from his memory, that he could somehow not remember her this way, but the form she takes in his mind’s eye is solid and immovable. Perhaps it’s fate. Perhaps she’s come back to haunt him. He’s sure he deserves it, for all the suffering he’d caused her. The promises he’d broken.
Instead of the bruises, he wishes he could remember how smooth and unblemished so much of her skin had remained, undisturbed by the conversion. He wishes he could remember exactly how her lips had felt.
He doesn’t remember this though, doesn’t remember her kindness, either - not really, not enough. He thinks that maybe if he allows enough time to pass, this will pass, too. This monster wearing her skin who stares at him with eyes he doesn’t recognize, with a voice that is nothing like what he remembers of the woman he loves, loved.
As a rule, Ianto doesn’t speak of Lisa. He’s afraid he won’t do her justice, just as his memory doesn’t do her justice. But one night Jack asks him what he’s thinking and Ianto tells him, just comes right out with it.
He’s sure it’s a mistake as soon as the words leave his mouth. But Jack just stares past him, into the empty hub, past the coffee machine and the empty workstations.
“Memory is a tricky thing,” Jack says eventually, and then he moves towards Ianto, into his personal space - too close. With one finger, he traces the thin line of a bruise on Ianto’s left temple.
Bruises, it would seem, are an essential element of the human condition. Unavoidable, especially in this line of work.
“At least you haven’t forgotten her completely.”
“This is worse,” Ianto says, not sure if he feels sorry for himself because Jack is indulging him, or if he started out that way.
His throat tightens, stops him from saying anything else, which is just as well. He swallows. Jack leans in and presses his lips against the skin just under his ear. The tightness uncoils, dissipates.
“No,” Jack says. “Trust me. Forgetting her completely would be worse than you can imagine.”
Ianto can’t imagine anything worse than this, but he believes Jack anyway. Jack speaks of some things with such authority, he feels like he doesn’t have a choice.
“She was beautiful,” Jack says, warm breath against his neck. “That’s what I remember.”
Ianto just nods and closes his eyes.
end
Fandom: Torchwood
Pairing/Characters: Jack/Ianto; past Ianto/Lisa
Warnings: canon character death
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~500
Summary: Ianto remembers Lisa.
Notes: Post-Cyberwoman. Written for torchwood_las, challenge #2. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated. :)
The image appears so often in his mind that Ianto has given up on pushing it away. Instead he lets Lisa stand there, her body wrapped and molded in metal. Her skin is a muddy, bruised purple where the silver makes contact with her thigh, her hip, her breasts.
He wishes he could purge it from his memory, that he could somehow not remember her this way, but the form she takes in his mind’s eye is solid and immovable. Perhaps it’s fate. Perhaps she’s come back to haunt him. He’s sure he deserves it, for all the suffering he’d caused her. The promises he’d broken.
Instead of the bruises, he wishes he could remember how smooth and unblemished so much of her skin had remained, undisturbed by the conversion. He wishes he could remember exactly how her lips had felt.
He doesn’t remember this though, doesn’t remember her kindness, either - not really, not enough. He thinks that maybe if he allows enough time to pass, this will pass, too. This monster wearing her skin who stares at him with eyes he doesn’t recognize, with a voice that is nothing like what he remembers of the woman he loves, loved.
As a rule, Ianto doesn’t speak of Lisa. He’s afraid he won’t do her justice, just as his memory doesn’t do her justice. But one night Jack asks him what he’s thinking and Ianto tells him, just comes right out with it.
He’s sure it’s a mistake as soon as the words leave his mouth. But Jack just stares past him, into the empty hub, past the coffee machine and the empty workstations.
“Memory is a tricky thing,” Jack says eventually, and then he moves towards Ianto, into his personal space - too close. With one finger, he traces the thin line of a bruise on Ianto’s left temple.
Bruises, it would seem, are an essential element of the human condition. Unavoidable, especially in this line of work.
“At least you haven’t forgotten her completely.”
“This is worse,” Ianto says, not sure if he feels sorry for himself because Jack is indulging him, or if he started out that way.
His throat tightens, stops him from saying anything else, which is just as well. He swallows. Jack leans in and presses his lips against the skin just under his ear. The tightness uncoils, dissipates.
“No,” Jack says. “Trust me. Forgetting her completely would be worse than you can imagine.”
Ianto can’t imagine anything worse than this, but he believes Jack anyway. Jack speaks of some things with such authority, he feels like he doesn’t have a choice.
“She was beautiful,” Jack says, warm breath against his neck. “That’s what I remember.”
Ianto just nods and closes his eyes.
end