fic!
Having mastered (or so she thinks) the art of the lj-cut, Lilvior has written a short fic and is now retesting her ability to use the lj-cut function.
Jack entered the hub with an enormous grin on his face.
“Ianto, coffee!” He called, sitting down at his desk. The others looked just as pleased; they’d just saved the life of a toddler who’d been chosen as a sacrifice for a particularly nasty alien tribe. Torchwood might have been a secret organisation, but four people rescuing a terrified infant from sinister looking kidnappers were considered heroes even if no one was aware of the whole story. They’d been treated to free drinks and a free meal at the restaurant of the child’s father.
Jack lived for days like this; he was so proud of his team, they’d defeated the bad guys, saved an innocent child and nothing had gone wrong on the entire mission. That was when Jack’s smile faltered, he hated that thought: nothing had gone wrong. So why did he have this ominous feeling that something was wrong?
Toshiko typed up the mission on the computer whilst Gwen liaised with the local authorities, their story was that a group of religious cult fanatics had taken the child to sacrifice to their heathen gods. Owen meanwhile was moaning that someone had stolen a bottle of vodka from his workstation.
Where was the coffee? Jack stood up.
“Ianto?” He called, looking around for the receptionist; it had only been seven days since the drama involving Ianto’s cybernised girlfriend, so his absence was slightly disconcerting.
“Maybe he’s having a nap.” Owen mumbled, searching somewhat drunkenly for his hidden supply of spirits.
“Not likely.” Jack snorted, the others weren’t aware of it, but Ianto needed sleeping pills to sleep, they kept his rest carefully regulated and he was therefore rather unlikely to just take a nap in the middle of the day. The young Welshman hadn’t exactly had an easy life; the day after the ‘Lisa incident’, Jack had read Ianto’s file. He felt guilty for not knowing anything about one of the members of the team; he knew the others’ lives inside out. What he’d found had been one long sob story; the poor guy lost both his parents when he was twelve and his brother had been granted legal guardianship of him. His brother was murdered less than a year later. That had been when he started taking sedatives to sleep. He was taken into care until he was sixteen, and then left to fend for himself. His family had left him enough money to get by, so he’d gone to college. And that was where he met Lisa.
Jack sighed, Ianto’s life almost made his own seem charmed.
Out of curiosity more than anything else, Jack looked up the various heat signatures present within the hub, he figured maybe Ianto had just gone out for a sandwich. His heart sank when he saw the fifth person downstairs in the basement.
“I’m just headed downstairs.” He notified the team. As soon as he was out of their sight, he broke into a run; he was incredibly uncomfortable with the idea of Ianto being in that room where he’d been hiding Lisa for all these months.
He couldn’t see anything through the tiny little window in the door, but the door resisted when he pushed it. Jack fumbled through his pocket and pulled out a credit card - amusingly enough with all the gadgets at Torchwood, a credit card was still always the easiest way to get around a simple mechanical lock. After a moment’s careful concentration there was a satisfying click, when Jack tried the handle again the door swung open easily.
“Ianto?” He was sat in the corner of the room his chin resting against his chest; he looked like he was sleeping.
As Jack got closer he noticed the broken glass on the ground. He bent over and picked up a large chunk that still had part of a label attached to it; Owen’s vodka. No wonder Ianto looked unconscious, there had been nearly a litre in that bottle.
Personally, Jack didn’t approve of drinking any more, he’d tried to drink himself into a coma a little while back, but on realising he was immortal decided that the pain wasn’t worth it.
He thought hard about what he was going to do with the inebriated receptionist; his first idea was to carry him back upstairs and put him somewhere more comfortable. Jack smiled; he had a bed towards the back of the hub, he bet Ianto would be more comfortable there… He’d made up his mind and knelt down next to him when he saw the small medication bottle next to him. Picking it up Jack read the label, it was the sleeping tablets.
He grabbed Ianto by the shoulders and shook him, panicking further when he received no response. Thinking fast, Jack pushed Ianto forward and stuck two fingers down his throat. The gag reflex was instant, vomit splattered both their legs; some of the pills hadn’t dissolved yet and Jack heaved a huge sigh of relief, he’d got there in time. He made Ianto throw up two more times, eventually he coughed and his eyes fluttered open.
“Nice try.” Jack panted, dizzy with relief. “You don’t get out of here that easily.”
“Jack?” Ianto tried to focus his eyes. He looked drunk and embarrassed.
“I’m here, come on, I’m taking you to my room.” Jack offered him a sad smile, then scooped him up in big strong arms.
The next time Ianto woke up, he was lying in Jack’s bed. His head was pounding and he vaguely recalled that he’d done something bad. Jack was going to be angry with him. He ignored the pain in his head and the new agony that was making his gut spasm, and threw the covers back; he noticed with some embarrassment that his suit was neatly folded over a chair and Jack had obviously had to strip him down to his pants and vest. Stubbornly refusing to acknowledge the bile rising in his throat, Ianto picked up his trousers and started putting them back on. But of course they were covered in vomit. He stood still for a moment, wondering what he should do, if he could risk making a dash for his locker and retrieving a spare suit without being seen, but he was interrupted from his thoughts as Jack reappeared.
“Ah, you’re awake.” Jack had the spare suit - still in its suit-bag - draped over one arm.
“I’m sorry Sir, I…” He had no idea how to finish the sentence; ‘sorry, I just couldn’t face life anymore’ seemed rather a poor excuse for his actions.
Jack’s expression shifted a little, Ianto couldn’t tell if he was pissed off with him or feeling pity for him. He didn’t know which would be worse.
“You’ve been under a lot of stress lately.” Jack paused; he seemed to be choosing his words very carefully. “Next time you feel like that, maybe you could come and talk to me about it?” He offered a sad smile.
Ianto was feeling somewhat uncomfortable about being stood in his underwear in front of Jack, he felt naked in more than just the regular sense. His clothes were his cover, a façade of sophistication and normalcy. The man in the suit turned up for work on time, did his job well and kept his personal opinions to himself, sacrificing his own needs for those of his superiors’. The boy stood in his underwear was vulnerable and lonely, his scars on show; both the physical and psychological ones.
“Yes, Sir.” He replied, although he couldn’t quite remember what the question had been. ‘Yes, Sir’ was always the right answer. He nodded towards the clothes Jack was holding.
“Yeah, I figured you’d want some clean gear.” He handed it over, but made no move to leave the room. “Do you want to go home for the rest of the day?”
“No Sir, I’ll be fine.” Ianto mentally begged Jack to go away, he really didn’t want to get dressed with him in the room.
That was when Jack’s patience ran out.
“You tried to kill yourself.” He stated through gritted teeth.
“I said I was sorry, Sir.”
“Why are you apologising?” Jack’s voice had risen, the volume was intimidating to say the least. “Why couldn’t you tell me something was wrong?” He was practically shouting.
Ianto couldn’t quite stop himself reacting.
“My girlfriend died seven days ago!” He shrieked, “You told me to kill her! How could you ask me to do that?” Before he could get control back over his own body, he’d fallen to his knees in tears. “Am I just supposed to just carry on like normal?” He sobbed loudly, but his question had been honestly asking for an answer.
Jack had wanted Ianto to quit suppressing his emotions, but at the moment it seemed to be just one extreme or the other. He knelt down on the floor opposite Ianto, and put his hands on the younger man’s shoulders.
“I’m so sorry about what happened.” He wasn’t apologising for his own actions, “I’m sorry they got her, but she was already dead when you dragged her out.” He pulled Ianto forward into an embrace. “I had to get you to understand that before we destroyed what remained of her body.”
Ianto’s crying had quietened down to a gentle sob, but he left his head rested on Jack’s shoulder.
“Ianto, you’ve gotta believe me, if there had been a way to bring her back… I would have done it.” Jack was relieved that the crying had all but stopped and now Ianto was just making soft sniffling noises. “We have to carry on, we have to mourn first, but then we have to carry on.”
“I’ve never loved anyone like I loved her.” Ianto lifted his head and sat back.
Jack smiled sadly again. He leaned forward and gently kissed Ianto’s lips.
“When you’re ready to love again, I’ll be here.” Then he got up and left.
Ianto sat very still for a few seconds while he took in what Jack had said, then he stood up, got dressed, and made his way back to the hub to brew a fresh pot of coffee.
Didit work?
Jack entered the hub with an enormous grin on his face.
“Ianto, coffee!” He called, sitting down at his desk. The others looked just as pleased; they’d just saved the life of a toddler who’d been chosen as a sacrifice for a particularly nasty alien tribe. Torchwood might have been a secret organisation, but four people rescuing a terrified infant from sinister looking kidnappers were considered heroes even if no one was aware of the whole story. They’d been treated to free drinks and a free meal at the restaurant of the child’s father.
Jack lived for days like this; he was so proud of his team, they’d defeated the bad guys, saved an innocent child and nothing had gone wrong on the entire mission. That was when Jack’s smile faltered, he hated that thought: nothing had gone wrong. So why did he have this ominous feeling that something was wrong?
Toshiko typed up the mission on the computer whilst Gwen liaised with the local authorities, their story was that a group of religious cult fanatics had taken the child to sacrifice to their heathen gods. Owen meanwhile was moaning that someone had stolen a bottle of vodka from his workstation.
Where was the coffee? Jack stood up.
“Ianto?” He called, looking around for the receptionist; it had only been seven days since the drama involving Ianto’s cybernised girlfriend, so his absence was slightly disconcerting.
“Maybe he’s having a nap.” Owen mumbled, searching somewhat drunkenly for his hidden supply of spirits.
“Not likely.” Jack snorted, the others weren’t aware of it, but Ianto needed sleeping pills to sleep, they kept his rest carefully regulated and he was therefore rather unlikely to just take a nap in the middle of the day. The young Welshman hadn’t exactly had an easy life; the day after the ‘Lisa incident’, Jack had read Ianto’s file. He felt guilty for not knowing anything about one of the members of the team; he knew the others’ lives inside out. What he’d found had been one long sob story; the poor guy lost both his parents when he was twelve and his brother had been granted legal guardianship of him. His brother was murdered less than a year later. That had been when he started taking sedatives to sleep. He was taken into care until he was sixteen, and then left to fend for himself. His family had left him enough money to get by, so he’d gone to college. And that was where he met Lisa.
Jack sighed, Ianto’s life almost made his own seem charmed.
Out of curiosity more than anything else, Jack looked up the various heat signatures present within the hub, he figured maybe Ianto had just gone out for a sandwich. His heart sank when he saw the fifth person downstairs in the basement.
“I’m just headed downstairs.” He notified the team. As soon as he was out of their sight, he broke into a run; he was incredibly uncomfortable with the idea of Ianto being in that room where he’d been hiding Lisa for all these months.
He couldn’t see anything through the tiny little window in the door, but the door resisted when he pushed it. Jack fumbled through his pocket and pulled out a credit card - amusingly enough with all the gadgets at Torchwood, a credit card was still always the easiest way to get around a simple mechanical lock. After a moment’s careful concentration there was a satisfying click, when Jack tried the handle again the door swung open easily.
“Ianto?” He was sat in the corner of the room his chin resting against his chest; he looked like he was sleeping.
As Jack got closer he noticed the broken glass on the ground. He bent over and picked up a large chunk that still had part of a label attached to it; Owen’s vodka. No wonder Ianto looked unconscious, there had been nearly a litre in that bottle.
Personally, Jack didn’t approve of drinking any more, he’d tried to drink himself into a coma a little while back, but on realising he was immortal decided that the pain wasn’t worth it.
He thought hard about what he was going to do with the inebriated receptionist; his first idea was to carry him back upstairs and put him somewhere more comfortable. Jack smiled; he had a bed towards the back of the hub, he bet Ianto would be more comfortable there… He’d made up his mind and knelt down next to him when he saw the small medication bottle next to him. Picking it up Jack read the label, it was the sleeping tablets.
He grabbed Ianto by the shoulders and shook him, panicking further when he received no response. Thinking fast, Jack pushed Ianto forward and stuck two fingers down his throat. The gag reflex was instant, vomit splattered both their legs; some of the pills hadn’t dissolved yet and Jack heaved a huge sigh of relief, he’d got there in time. He made Ianto throw up two more times, eventually he coughed and his eyes fluttered open.
“Nice try.” Jack panted, dizzy with relief. “You don’t get out of here that easily.”
“Jack?” Ianto tried to focus his eyes. He looked drunk and embarrassed.
“I’m here, come on, I’m taking you to my room.” Jack offered him a sad smile, then scooped him up in big strong arms.
The next time Ianto woke up, he was lying in Jack’s bed. His head was pounding and he vaguely recalled that he’d done something bad. Jack was going to be angry with him. He ignored the pain in his head and the new agony that was making his gut spasm, and threw the covers back; he noticed with some embarrassment that his suit was neatly folded over a chair and Jack had obviously had to strip him down to his pants and vest. Stubbornly refusing to acknowledge the bile rising in his throat, Ianto picked up his trousers and started putting them back on. But of course they were covered in vomit. He stood still for a moment, wondering what he should do, if he could risk making a dash for his locker and retrieving a spare suit without being seen, but he was interrupted from his thoughts as Jack reappeared.
“Ah, you’re awake.” Jack had the spare suit - still in its suit-bag - draped over one arm.
“I’m sorry Sir, I…” He had no idea how to finish the sentence; ‘sorry, I just couldn’t face life anymore’ seemed rather a poor excuse for his actions.
Jack’s expression shifted a little, Ianto couldn’t tell if he was pissed off with him or feeling pity for him. He didn’t know which would be worse.
“You’ve been under a lot of stress lately.” Jack paused; he seemed to be choosing his words very carefully. “Next time you feel like that, maybe you could come and talk to me about it?” He offered a sad smile.
Ianto was feeling somewhat uncomfortable about being stood in his underwear in front of Jack, he felt naked in more than just the regular sense. His clothes were his cover, a façade of sophistication and normalcy. The man in the suit turned up for work on time, did his job well and kept his personal opinions to himself, sacrificing his own needs for those of his superiors’. The boy stood in his underwear was vulnerable and lonely, his scars on show; both the physical and psychological ones.
“Yes, Sir.” He replied, although he couldn’t quite remember what the question had been. ‘Yes, Sir’ was always the right answer. He nodded towards the clothes Jack was holding.
“Yeah, I figured you’d want some clean gear.” He handed it over, but made no move to leave the room. “Do you want to go home for the rest of the day?”
“No Sir, I’ll be fine.” Ianto mentally begged Jack to go away, he really didn’t want to get dressed with him in the room.
That was when Jack’s patience ran out.
“You tried to kill yourself.” He stated through gritted teeth.
“I said I was sorry, Sir.”
“Why are you apologising?” Jack’s voice had risen, the volume was intimidating to say the least. “Why couldn’t you tell me something was wrong?” He was practically shouting.
Ianto couldn’t quite stop himself reacting.
“My girlfriend died seven days ago!” He shrieked, “You told me to kill her! How could you ask me to do that?” Before he could get control back over his own body, he’d fallen to his knees in tears. “Am I just supposed to just carry on like normal?” He sobbed loudly, but his question had been honestly asking for an answer.
Jack had wanted Ianto to quit suppressing his emotions, but at the moment it seemed to be just one extreme or the other. He knelt down on the floor opposite Ianto, and put his hands on the younger man’s shoulders.
“I’m so sorry about what happened.” He wasn’t apologising for his own actions, “I’m sorry they got her, but she was already dead when you dragged her out.” He pulled Ianto forward into an embrace. “I had to get you to understand that before we destroyed what remained of her body.”
Ianto’s crying had quietened down to a gentle sob, but he left his head rested on Jack’s shoulder.
“Ianto, you’ve gotta believe me, if there had been a way to bring her back… I would have done it.” Jack was relieved that the crying had all but stopped and now Ianto was just making soft sniffling noises. “We have to carry on, we have to mourn first, but then we have to carry on.”
“I’ve never loved anyone like I loved her.” Ianto lifted his head and sat back.
Jack smiled sadly again. He leaned forward and gently kissed Ianto’s lips.
“When you’re ready to love again, I’ll be here.” Then he got up and left.
Ianto sat very still for a few seconds while he took in what Jack had said, then he stood up, got dressed, and made his way back to the hub to brew a fresh pot of coffee.
Didit work?