The World’s Keeper.
Title: The World’s Keeper
Author: jerbearthompson
Rating: G
Spoilers: None, really.
Characters: Ianto/Jack, Gwen
Length: >1k
Summary: He should have just listened to Ianto.
Disclaimer: The usual. Characters aren’t mine, you know that already.
Notes: This is my first Torchwood fic. In fact, it’s my first fanfiction. Kind of shamelessly rips off Scrubs.
Jack breathed in the smell of fresh coffee, closing his eyes against the aroma washing over his face. He slowly took his first sip, savouring the taste.
‘Best coffee in the world, have I told you that?’
Ianto smiled smugly and shoved his hands into his pockets, or rather, slid his hands into his pockets. Ianto never shoved.
‘Want to say something, or shall I just carry on?’ Jack asked, taking another sip from the blue and white striped mug.
Ianto stared around himself, taking in the serenity of being outdoors. The wash of green against his eyes, birds whistling softly in the background as the wind ruffled his hair.
‘Lovely day,’ is all he said.
‘It is,’ Jack agreed, his heavy sigh belying his words. ‘I still don’t know why you dragged me out here.’
‘You needed the fresh air,’ Ianto surmised with a shrug of his shoulders. ‘Sometimes even you have to get away from real life. All this death, this grief… you shouldn’t carry it all on your shoulders. You can’t think of yourself as the world’s keeper, Jack. You shouldn’t have to. You’re only a man.’
Jack laughed softly, casting his eyes downward with a shake of his head. ‘You always think you know what’s best for me.’
Ianto turned sharply and stared him straight in the eye. ‘I do,’ he said evenly.
Jack returned the gaze, a thin smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. ‘I know you do, it’s why I… why I…’
There was a heavy puff in which Jack could or could not have breathed the words love you.
Perhaps it didn’t matter. Perhaps they both already knew.
‘Jack, promise me something,’ Ianto began sharply.
Anything, Jack wanted to say, but he knew that would be impractical, no matter how much he wanted to say it. If there was one thing Jack Harkness could pride himself on, it was that he was a man of his word, and a promise was just that - a definite promise.
‘Name it,’ he said instead, trying to smile but, for the life of him, just not being able to gather the sufficient energy.
‘Forgive yourself.’
The way Ianto had said it, a raw simplicity, his eyes boring into Jack, made the captain ache to be able to give him that one promise. One promise, one honest request, and he couldn’t even do that for the man he cared so much about.
When the silence had dragged out just enough to know Jack wasn’t going to answer, but not quite long enough to be awkward, Jack said softly, ‘I should have listened to you.’
Ianto smiled amiably. ‘If you had have, they would have died. You saved their lives.’
‘Jack!’ Gwen’s voice rang out uncomfortably loud in the peace of the afternoon. ‘There you are, I’ve been worried sick! I didn’t know where you were, I thought… thought you may not show up.’
‘Don’t worry, Gwen, I’ve just been talking to Ianto,’ Jack replied kindly, if somewhat distantly.
‘Jack,’ Gwen repeated softly, approaching the captain slowly, as she would a startled animal. ‘Sweetheart,’ this said in the same soft voice as gentle hands prised the cold, empty mug from the man’s rigid hands. ‘Why do you think you’re out here?’
‘Ianto…’ Jack began, brows knotted together in confusion. ‘Ianto brought me out here, for some fresh air.’
Gwen slowly put the cup down, nestling it within the grass at the side of the path, mentally reminding herself to pick it up later. She reached out and took Jack’s hands tentatively in her own.
‘Jack… where do you think we are?’
It was then that Jack noticed where Ianto had brought him to. Noticed that he wasn’t wearing his usual attire, but was instead dressed in a smart black suit with a matching tie. Noticed how his hands began to shake as his vision took in the neat, grassy terrain studded with stones and crosses. Noticed that Ianto had gone.
‘Come on, love.’
The words were so soft that Jack may have imagined them, but he nodded, regardless, and let Gwen gently steer him toward the rows of plastic chairs laid out before a dark coffin, laden with flowers and a single photograph. A photograph of a handsome young man, his torso clad in a pristine suit, smiling contentedly.
Jack sat in the front row, his eyes never leaving the photograph as he clutched Gwen’s hand tightly.
Too many lives, Torchwood had taken. Cruelly snatched away whilst saving a world that couldn’t even acknowledge their heroic actions. They were all so young.
Eventually the other seats began to fill up. There were depressingly few people, but Gwen had been adamant that Ianto deserved at least a proper burial, even if there was no body within the casket.
Jack felt the first tear break away and roll hotly down his cheek, lost quickly like Ianto was. Gone forever.
Forever. Jack’s curse. He literally had forever to live, with the knowledge that it was because of his stubborn arrogance that he couldn’t even spend at least a good century with the man he… the man he had….
The man that was gone. Because of him. He should have just listened to Ianto.
‘Good evening, family, friends. We are gathered here today to honour the memory of one Ianto Jones, a man who…’
Jack listened, hands folded in his lap. When the service finished, he would go home. He would lie on his bed and stare blankly at the ceiling, wondering if he’d ever be able to forgive himself, until morning when he would get up. When he would carry on, like he always did. Would always have to.
Because he was the world’s keeper.
Author: jerbearthompson
Rating: G
Spoilers: None, really.
Characters: Ianto/Jack, Gwen
Length: >1k
Summary: He should have just listened to Ianto.
Disclaimer: The usual. Characters aren’t mine, you know that already.
Notes: This is my first Torchwood fic. In fact, it’s my first fanfiction. Kind of shamelessly rips off Scrubs.
Jack breathed in the smell of fresh coffee, closing his eyes against the aroma washing over his face. He slowly took his first sip, savouring the taste.
‘Best coffee in the world, have I told you that?’
Ianto smiled smugly and shoved his hands into his pockets, or rather, slid his hands into his pockets. Ianto never shoved.
‘Want to say something, or shall I just carry on?’ Jack asked, taking another sip from the blue and white striped mug.
Ianto stared around himself, taking in the serenity of being outdoors. The wash of green against his eyes, birds whistling softly in the background as the wind ruffled his hair.
‘Lovely day,’ is all he said.
‘It is,’ Jack agreed, his heavy sigh belying his words. ‘I still don’t know why you dragged me out here.’
‘You needed the fresh air,’ Ianto surmised with a shrug of his shoulders. ‘Sometimes even you have to get away from real life. All this death, this grief… you shouldn’t carry it all on your shoulders. You can’t think of yourself as the world’s keeper, Jack. You shouldn’t have to. You’re only a man.’
Jack laughed softly, casting his eyes downward with a shake of his head. ‘You always think you know what’s best for me.’
Ianto turned sharply and stared him straight in the eye. ‘I do,’ he said evenly.
Jack returned the gaze, a thin smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. ‘I know you do, it’s why I… why I…’
There was a heavy puff in which Jack could or could not have breathed the words love you.
Perhaps it didn’t matter. Perhaps they both already knew.
‘Jack, promise me something,’ Ianto began sharply.
Anything, Jack wanted to say, but he knew that would be impractical, no matter how much he wanted to say it. If there was one thing Jack Harkness could pride himself on, it was that he was a man of his word, and a promise was just that - a definite promise.
‘Name it,’ he said instead, trying to smile but, for the life of him, just not being able to gather the sufficient energy.
‘Forgive yourself.’
The way Ianto had said it, a raw simplicity, his eyes boring into Jack, made the captain ache to be able to give him that one promise. One promise, one honest request, and he couldn’t even do that for the man he cared so much about.
When the silence had dragged out just enough to know Jack wasn’t going to answer, but not quite long enough to be awkward, Jack said softly, ‘I should have listened to you.’
Ianto smiled amiably. ‘If you had have, they would have died. You saved their lives.’
‘Jack!’ Gwen’s voice rang out uncomfortably loud in the peace of the afternoon. ‘There you are, I’ve been worried sick! I didn’t know where you were, I thought… thought you may not show up.’
‘Don’t worry, Gwen, I’ve just been talking to Ianto,’ Jack replied kindly, if somewhat distantly.
‘Jack,’ Gwen repeated softly, approaching the captain slowly, as she would a startled animal. ‘Sweetheart,’ this said in the same soft voice as gentle hands prised the cold, empty mug from the man’s rigid hands. ‘Why do you think you’re out here?’
‘Ianto…’ Jack began, brows knotted together in confusion. ‘Ianto brought me out here, for some fresh air.’
Gwen slowly put the cup down, nestling it within the grass at the side of the path, mentally reminding herself to pick it up later. She reached out and took Jack’s hands tentatively in her own.
‘Jack… where do you think we are?’
It was then that Jack noticed where Ianto had brought him to. Noticed that he wasn’t wearing his usual attire, but was instead dressed in a smart black suit with a matching tie. Noticed how his hands began to shake as his vision took in the neat, grassy terrain studded with stones and crosses. Noticed that Ianto had gone.
‘Come on, love.’
The words were so soft that Jack may have imagined them, but he nodded, regardless, and let Gwen gently steer him toward the rows of plastic chairs laid out before a dark coffin, laden with flowers and a single photograph. A photograph of a handsome young man, his torso clad in a pristine suit, smiling contentedly.
Jack sat in the front row, his eyes never leaving the photograph as he clutched Gwen’s hand tightly.
Too many lives, Torchwood had taken. Cruelly snatched away whilst saving a world that couldn’t even acknowledge their heroic actions. They were all so young.
Eventually the other seats began to fill up. There were depressingly few people, but Gwen had been adamant that Ianto deserved at least a proper burial, even if there was no body within the casket.
Jack felt the first tear break away and roll hotly down his cheek, lost quickly like Ianto was. Gone forever.
Forever. Jack’s curse. He literally had forever to live, with the knowledge that it was because of his stubborn arrogance that he couldn’t even spend at least a good century with the man he… the man he had….
The man that was gone. Because of him. He should have just listened to Ianto.
‘Good evening, family, friends. We are gathered here today to honour the memory of one Ianto Jones, a man who…’
Jack listened, hands folded in his lap. When the service finished, he would go home. He would lie on his bed and stare blankly at the ceiling, wondering if he’d ever be able to forgive himself, until morning when he would get up. When he would carry on, like he always did. Would always have to.
Because he was the world’s keeper.