Fic: Adrift In Time Chapter 2 (Torchwood Jack/Ianto NC17)
Title: Adrift In Time
Author: magikalrhiannon
Fandom: Torchwood
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Rating: NC17
Spoilers: All up to Season 2 Ep 11 Adrift
Summary: What happens if Ianto is taken by the rift, and Jack can't give up the hunt for him?
Word Count: 15952
Disclaimer: All rights belong to BBC and Russell T Davies. I'm just finger-painting in someone else's masterpiece. No infringement intended.
Notes: For kajmere, cuz she owns me. This is a victory fic for my darling baby kajmere because her goddamn Flames beat my beloved Stars in a shootout last week and as her reward for our bet... she got a fic of her choice. This fic, I believe meets the prompt she left with specific requirements, which I'm not going to list. I've added a few of my own for good measure, because I LOVE YOU. I hope you enjoy baby!
Prologue ~*~ Chapter 1
Chapter 2
When Jack walked out of Rhiannon's house, he silently headed to the car, Andy on his heels. They drove back to Cardiff without speaking until Jack pulled up outside Andy's station.
“Thank you,” Jack said quietly. He looked over at the policeman. “For today.”
“It's m'job, Captain Harkness,” Andy said with a nod. “You know, I once asked Gwen if she'd ever put in a good word for me at Torchwood. I don't suppose she did, did she.”
Jack shook his head. “No. Sorry.”
“Didn't think so.”
Jack offered him a small smile. “Constable, you're far too … nice for what we do.”
Andy was taken aback. “Gwen's nice.”
Jack shook his head. “Oh, man. You got that way wrong. Gwen has empathy, it's true, but when it's needed, she can be as cold and calculating as it's necessary. She's a natural leader,” he added softly.
“Aye. She knows how to take charge.” Andy gave him a rueful smile. “Best be off. You take care, Captain.” He paused. “And... my condolences.”
“Thank you, Constable.”
Jack drove off as soon as Andy shut the door, not acknowledging his wave. Instead of going to the Hub, he headed for Ianto's flat in Grangetown. He parked in the parking lot and headed inside with his key that Ianto had given to him after Tommy had been sent back in time. That had been the catalyst to Ianto truly forgiving him for leaving with the Doctor without a word. He gave Jack the key just in case of emergency or Ianto locked himself out... but Jack knew it was really his way of inviting Jack into his home, to share his life, without outrightly saying it.
He took a deep breath and leaned his head against the door before opening it. It looked exactly the same as the last time Jack had been there. As neat and fastidious as it's owner. Washed dishes drip dried on the sink. Not many. A cereal bowl and a coffee mug, a couple of spoons. He moved to the refrigerator. Nearly empty. Couple of bottles of beer, a container of leftover chinese, some curry. Ianto had been eating takeout during the week that he hadn't been staying with Jack.
He felt sick just thinking about that time he wasted being mad over something so petty, so stupid in hindsight.
He slammed the refrigerator closed and moved into the lounge. Minimalist was Ianto's décor. Sofa. Bookcase with two rows of books - half reference books on various topics and the other half spy novels, mostly James Bond. The other two rows were DVDs. Eclectic taste. Jack knew that. They'd watched every DVD he owned together. He scanned the bookcase and pulled out Ianto's favourite book - From Russia, With Love - and a couple of the DVDs they had watched together. He put them on the coffee table to take with him.
He looked over at the doorway to the bedroom. His eyes welled up. Taking a deep breath he moved slowly into the room and stopped when he was assaulted but the lingering scent of Ianto. He collapsed onto the bed and breathed it in before bursting into sobs.
It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair dammit! He needed more time! Ianto didn't deserve this fate! Not his beautiful Welshman!
Jack's phone rang. He didn't bother to answer it, and let it go to voicemail. It rang again. And again. Eventually he pulled it out.
Gwen.
He turned the phone off.
Fuck it he thought bitterly, as he buried his face in Ianto's pillows and breathed in his scent again. He needed to commit it to memory. Because memory was all he had left.
Hours later, Jack pulled himself up and dragged himself to the closet. He opened it. Ianto's suits were hanging there, just as he knew they would be. Beside them were jeans, hoodies, some old t-shirts of bands his colleagues - excluding Jack who had been granted access to his inner world - didn't know he listened to, his collection of silk ties, belts and dress shoes, sneakers, boots and array of costumes that Jack had purchased for him for their roleplaying. On the top shelf of the closet, a flash of red inside an opened postage bag had caught Jack's eye and he reached up and pulled it out.
The postmark said a week ago. Ianto would have received it when Jack was mad at him. He looked inside and pulled out the contents.
A red U.N.I.T. Beret.
Martha came through. That saucy minx. Ianto had it. Fuck.
Jack put it on the bed. He pulled out Ianto's burgundy red dress shirt and matching tie, and put it on the bed. He pulled out his favourite black wool blend suit, and added it to the pile. In the bottom of the closet was a sports bag. Jack pulled it out and opened it.
It was full of diaries. Huh.
He carried it over to the bed and sat down. Making himself comfortable, he pulled one out and opened it.
February 28
Tosh sent Tommy back to his correct time tonight. She must be heartbroken. I know I would be if I had to send Jack back.
I kissed him last night. It was amazing. I asked him if he regretted leaving his own time. He said he was meant to be here. I still wonder why he's with me. I see the way he watches Gwen. I know he thinks I'm oblivious. That's okay. He came to me, not her. He may watch her, but he comes to me. And maybe that's enough. Maybe it has to be?
Jack turned a few pages.
March 11
I managed to surprise Jack with a small birthday cake tonight. I know it's not really his birthday, but it's the date that Torchwood designated his DOB for ID purposes. I don't know if anyone has bothered to celebrate it before - surely they must have, he's been married before. I know about the box of photos in his bottom drawer of his desk. By his reaction though, it must have been a while since anyone has done anything like this for him. I... I wasn't sure if he'd appreciate a gift. I'm not sure how intimate this thing between us is. I'm ashamed to admit that I'm out of my depth having this type of, dare I use the word relationship, with a man. It was easier with Lisa. I knew what my 'role' was. It's harder with Jack. Not just because he's male. But because he's Jack.
I suppose I'll figure it out along the way. I'm glad I got the chocolate part right though.
Reminder: Canned whipped cream is not good for lubricant. And creates a mess. And awkward questions. Best to be avoided.
Jack laughed. He remembered that night. It was fun. Ianto allowed him to turn him into a plate and eat his cake off Ianto before fucking him into the mattress. Ianto then squirted whipped cream onto his cock and sucked it, and him, off.
God, he missed him. He missed him so much already. What the hell was he going to do without him? Wiping the stray tears away, he focused on the diaries, and one by one he worked his way through every page of the book in front of him.
He woke up with a start, the diary he'd been reading open across his chest. He looked around, disorientated for a moment before the horror had come flooding back. He glanced at the clock on the night stand. The red numbers read 2:38am. He had no idea how long he'd been asleep for. Jack pulled out his phone and turned it on. His voicemail was full. He sighed and closed his eyes again.
Dialling the number, he accessed the voicemail box and listened to the at first empathetic, then hysterical and then furious voicemails from Gwen. Owen had left one of his own, just stating that he was sending the girls home for the night but staying at the Hub himself to monitor the rift and to take his time to do whatever he needed to do, ignore Gwen and don't worry about things until he was ready to come back.
Jack knew he'd hired Owen for a reason.
Tosh had left a message stating that she hadn't had any success yet, but she was still working on it.
Rhiannon had called, and left a message for Jack to let him know that she was going to arrange a small memorial service for her brother in on the 1 year anniversary. Family and close friends only. No paper notification. No fuss. Ianto wouldn't want that. Just in case they were lucky. She had to have hope, Jack. She knew he'd understand.
He did.
Jack deleted all the voicemails except for Rhiannon's. Then he heard the voicemail tell him he had one old message. He frowned, and pressed play.
Jack, I was just calling to remind you to call the Prime Minister, but either you've remembered or the PM called you. Either way, well done. Did you want Chinese, Italian or Indian for dinner tonight? Or I could go home and you can have a night to yourself? Just, you know, uh, let me know. There was a pause. I, um. Look, I just wanted to say thank you for dinner last night. You really didn't have to take me out like that. I don't need to be woo'ed, Jack. Ianto chuckled that sexy laugh of his. But it was nice. As was dessert back at your place. He cleared his throat. Anyway. I'll be back soon. Just picking up your dry cleaning. See you soon.
Ianto's voice disappeared to a mechanical one from the voicemail service and Jack tried to swallow the rock in his throat as he hit save.
Reaching out for the lamp, he switched it on, wincing when he light hurt his eyes. He stood up and packed the diaries back into the sports bag. On top, he added the suit and the red beret. He moved around the bed to the nightstand and opened the bottom drawer, and pulled out the box of sex toys that Ianto kept in there. He found the toy he was looking for - Ianto's favourite that he liked Jack to use on him when he demanded Jack ride him and penetrate him at the same time, and added it to the bag. He looked inside the top drawer and found a pile of photographs. Jack pulled them out and looked through them. They were of Ianto and Jack. Jack remembered when Ianto had taken them with his digital camera... before the unfortunate incident with the Camillo artefact. Jack honestly didn't know that photographing it would destroy the technology taking the photograph.
Ianto hadn't been happy.
At least he'd taken the personal photos off the camera first, apparently. And had them printed. Jack didn't know that. He added the small collection to the bag, tucking them carefully inside one of the diaries. He closed the top drawer, put the box back in the bottom drawer and walked around the bed to turn off the light. He grabbed the bag and at the last minute the pillow from Ianto's bed.
In the lounge room, he added the book and DVDs to the bag. Also on the bookshelf were photos of Rhiannon and the kids. He took one of the whole family and added it to the bag. Before he was about to leave he remembered one more item. He put the bag down on the floor and returned to the bedroom, flipping the overhead light on. He moved to the tallboy in the corner and opened the top drawer, and rummaged around until he round two boxes. He opened them and found the contents still inside. He closed them again and took the boxes with him, shutting the drawers.
Rhiannon could go through the rest of the apartment and take what she wanted. Jack had what he wanted, what he needed to take with him. He added the two boxes to the bag, zipped it up, turned off all the lights, all the electrical appliances. He emptied the refrigerator and put all the food into a rubbish bag to put in the trash on the way out - it was the least he could do for Rhiannon.
Jack slung the sports bag over his shoulder, rested the pillow on the top of the bag, and picked up the rubbish bag, and with one last look around the flat, he backed out and locked the door. He didn't know where to go once he reached the SUV. He'd put the rubbish in the communal rubbish bin at the back of the complex on his way to the vehicle. He didn't want to go to the Hub but he knew he had to go back sometime.
Sighing, that's where he headed.
Owen looked up from his computer when the alarms sounded as Jack walked in with the bag slung over his shoulder.
“Jack.”
“Owen.” Jack didn't stop, and headed to his office. He knew Owen got to his feet and followed him though. Jack set the bag down on the couch that sat against one glass wall. Owen stood in the doorway. “Everything go okay today?”
“All things considered.”
Jack nodded.
“How'd it go with the family?”
“All things considered? Relatively well.” Jack turned to face his colleague. “Tomorrow I'll get a key cut to Ianto's flat and tell her she can box up his belongings. Take what she wants. Give the rest away. Whatever.”
Owen frowned. “Isn't that giving up, mate? Ianto hasn't even been gone a day yet?”
Jack closed his eyes. “Ianto's gone.” He opened them, and Owen could see the anguish and pain in them. “The sooner we accept that, the easier it will be to move on.”
~*~
Jack's words were easier to say than to do, however. Six months later, and Jack wasn't moving on. He was erratic in his behaviour. He was either throwing himself so hard into work that he was working on cases non stop to stop his mind thinking or he was brooding so much he would sink into a depression and not leave his den under his office for days, even weeks at a time.
He'd had more than one run in with Gwen, who was hellbent on Jack being focused on the job. For someone who had empathy, he didn't think her empathy ran as far deep as Jack losing his partner, his lover. Or maybe she didn't realise just how deeply he felt for Ianto. Maybe she didn't care? Maybe none of them did?
He would wander around the Hub late at night, and expect to see Ianto. Sometimes he would, and would do a double take, only to see nothing there. He ached to his hear his voice again, and sometimes think he would.
“Find me Jack...” he would hear, down in the archives. Jack would turn around around only to find himself alone. He'd slide to the ground against the filing cabinets that Ianto no longer took care of and sob.
He would replay the saved message on his phone over and over again, just to hear that laugh, those vowels on his name. Sometimes he'd ring his phone, which had been returned to him just as Andy had promised, just to hear the different message. He added Ianto's phone to the sports bag of memories. Jack couldn't help but wonder if the stopwatch made it through to wherever he was... because Jack didn't have it, and it wasn't at Ianto's flat.
At night, Jack would go weevil hunting alone. It wasn't as much fun without Ianto. And when he died, repeatedly, he was disappointed every time he gasped back painfully to life, only to find himself alone. There was no longer the comforting hand under his head, fingers in his hair carding through the strands, hand on his belly, telling him it'll be okay, he was safe. His comfort, his safety had gone. Ripped from him from the very thing he was there to protect the Earth from.
Irony was a bitch.
He lasted until the first anniversary. Rhiannon had phoned him, told him they were going to hold the memorial service in Cardiff. Turned out it was the park where Jack and Ianto first met - but Jack wasn't going to tell her that. He told her he'd be there, and he'd tell their team.
The Torchwood crew turned up in black. They all arrived in one vehicle. They followed Jack to where Rhiannon, Johnny and the kids, and a few others that Jack didn't know were standing around and talking. Even PC Davidson was there. Gwen was surprised. Rhiannon came over and hugged Jack. Jack clung to her.
“How you doing? Alright?” she asked, rubbing his back up and down.
“No,” he said simply, pulling back. “I miss him.”
She pulled back and nodded, tears welling in her eyes. “Yes. Me too.” She drew in a deep breath and let it out. “Right. Let's get this over with.”
The service was simple and elegant. Rhiannon had kept it non-denominational - Ianto wouldn't want anything to do with God in there, she'd told Jack. He'd given up on that when they were wee kids. She got up and said a few words.
“I know it seems strange... having a memorial service for someone we don't know if they're dead or alive... and we all live in hope, don't we?” she nodded. “We all live in hope. But if... if he's gone, well...” she swallowed. “My brother Ianto was a good lad. He always looked out for me when we was kids. He always took the beatin's from Da, never let 'im wail on me none. When Mam passed, he took care o' the house. Took care o' us really. An' when Da passed, he went to London, got a good Government job. He always sent us money, made sure we had what we needed. When he could he came to see the kids. He was a good lad.” She wiped at her eyes. “When Ianto loved you, he loved you with all he had. Never did things by halves he did. Always did things to the letter, yeah? Even shopliftin'. Made sure he got caught just so he could say he had a criminal record.” She chuckled. “I asked him, why'd you do it, Ianto? You're a good lad! Why'd you do it? And he told me, it won't do to be too perfect, Rhi. Gotta be a just a little rough around the edges like.” She looked up at the sky then closed her eyes. “Wherever you are Ianto, I hope you're okay. I hope you're safe. But I hope that you come back to us, safe, in one piece, and soon. Because we bloody well miss you. And don't think you'll escape a bollocking for doing this to us, because you won't!”
The crowd chuckled as she sat down, and started to weep into Johnny's shoulder. Gwen was crying and trying to take comfort in Jack's arm. She gasped when Jack stood up. Owen held her back.
Jack cleared his throat. “Ianto's very special to me.” He smiled softly. “I miss him. He had a way of making you feel like it didn't matter what you did, if it was for the greater good, then it was okay.” Jack shoved his hands in his pockets. “He was my partner, in every sense of the word.” There was a collective gasp. “I never got the chance to tell him I love him. But I do, with all that I am. And I was lucky enough to bask in the glory of Ianto's love. Rhiannon was right. When Ianto loves you, he loves with his whole being. It's an incredible thing. He's an incredible man. And I won't give up looking for him. Not while there's still air left in me.” He looked at Rhiannon. “I won't give up. Ever.”
She nodded, and at that moment, they shared an understanding. She realised that Jack was leaving. He was leaving to search the galaxy for her brother. Jack gave her a small smile and a single nod, then turned and walked away. He didn't go and sit down, he headed down to the Torchwood SUV. Gwen chased after him. She reached him when he was at the vehicle, opening the trunk of the car.
“What was all that about then?” Gwen demanded, her hand slamming on the car.
Jack reached inside for the bag and pulled it out, slamming the trunk shut. “What do you think it meant Gwen?”
“It sounded to me like you're leaving us!” she said urgently.
“You were paying attention then.”
“Jack!” she grabbed his arm and turned him to face her. “What are you doing?! Ianto's gone, Jack! You have to move on!”
“I can't!”
“You've got to!”
“No! What I've got to do is find him! He's out there somewhere and he's lost and alone and probably scared and he could be hurt and for the last year I've been here grieving when I should have been up there looking! So I'm going to make up for lost time!” Jack said firmly. He then swung around and took off for the top of the hill in the park.
“Jack! What about us!? What about Torchwood!?” Gwen yelled after him, running at his heels.
“You're more than capable of leading the team, Gwen. Hell, you relish bossing people around,” Jack replied, not changing his stride.
“What about me, Jack?” Gwen asked as they reached the pinnacle of the hill.
Jack turned to face her. “You have Rhys.”
Gwen started to cry. “I want you.”
Jack shook his head. “I want Ianto. I need him. I love him.” Jack leaned down and kissed Gwen's cheek. “Goodbye Gwen.”
She sobbed as he pressed some buttons on his wrist strap and disappeared just as Tosh and Owen came running over.
“Where's Jack?” Owen asked, looking around.
Gwen was sobbing. “He's gone.”
“What!? Where'd he go?” Owen asked, as Tosh put her arm around Gwen's shoulders.
“He w-went to f-find I-Ianto.”
“Ah, bollocks! Good luck to him!” Owen said, looking up at the sky, hands on his hips.
Chapter 3
Author: magikalrhiannon
Fandom: Torchwood
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Rating: NC17
Spoilers: All up to Season 2 Ep 11 Adrift
Summary: What happens if Ianto is taken by the rift, and Jack can't give up the hunt for him?
Word Count: 15952
Disclaimer: All rights belong to BBC and Russell T Davies. I'm just finger-painting in someone else's masterpiece. No infringement intended.
Notes: For kajmere, cuz she owns me. This is a victory fic for my darling baby kajmere because her goddamn Flames beat my beloved Stars in a shootout last week and as her reward for our bet... she got a fic of her choice. This fic, I believe meets the prompt she left with specific requirements, which I'm not going to list. I've added a few of my own for good measure, because I LOVE YOU. I hope you enjoy baby!
Prologue ~*~ Chapter 1
Chapter 2
When Jack walked out of Rhiannon's house, he silently headed to the car, Andy on his heels. They drove back to Cardiff without speaking until Jack pulled up outside Andy's station.
“Thank you,” Jack said quietly. He looked over at the policeman. “For today.”
“It's m'job, Captain Harkness,” Andy said with a nod. “You know, I once asked Gwen if she'd ever put in a good word for me at Torchwood. I don't suppose she did, did she.”
Jack shook his head. “No. Sorry.”
“Didn't think so.”
Jack offered him a small smile. “Constable, you're far too … nice for what we do.”
Andy was taken aback. “Gwen's nice.”
Jack shook his head. “Oh, man. You got that way wrong. Gwen has empathy, it's true, but when it's needed, she can be as cold and calculating as it's necessary. She's a natural leader,” he added softly.
“Aye. She knows how to take charge.” Andy gave him a rueful smile. “Best be off. You take care, Captain.” He paused. “And... my condolences.”
“Thank you, Constable.”
Jack drove off as soon as Andy shut the door, not acknowledging his wave. Instead of going to the Hub, he headed for Ianto's flat in Grangetown. He parked in the parking lot and headed inside with his key that Ianto had given to him after Tommy had been sent back in time. That had been the catalyst to Ianto truly forgiving him for leaving with the Doctor without a word. He gave Jack the key just in case of emergency or Ianto locked himself out... but Jack knew it was really his way of inviting Jack into his home, to share his life, without outrightly saying it.
He took a deep breath and leaned his head against the door before opening it. It looked exactly the same as the last time Jack had been there. As neat and fastidious as it's owner. Washed dishes drip dried on the sink. Not many. A cereal bowl and a coffee mug, a couple of spoons. He moved to the refrigerator. Nearly empty. Couple of bottles of beer, a container of leftover chinese, some curry. Ianto had been eating takeout during the week that he hadn't been staying with Jack.
He felt sick just thinking about that time he wasted being mad over something so petty, so stupid in hindsight.
He slammed the refrigerator closed and moved into the lounge. Minimalist was Ianto's décor. Sofa. Bookcase with two rows of books - half reference books on various topics and the other half spy novels, mostly James Bond. The other two rows were DVDs. Eclectic taste. Jack knew that. They'd watched every DVD he owned together. He scanned the bookcase and pulled out Ianto's favourite book - From Russia, With Love - and a couple of the DVDs they had watched together. He put them on the coffee table to take with him.
He looked over at the doorway to the bedroom. His eyes welled up. Taking a deep breath he moved slowly into the room and stopped when he was assaulted but the lingering scent of Ianto. He collapsed onto the bed and breathed it in before bursting into sobs.
It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair dammit! He needed more time! Ianto didn't deserve this fate! Not his beautiful Welshman!
Jack's phone rang. He didn't bother to answer it, and let it go to voicemail. It rang again. And again. Eventually he pulled it out.
Gwen.
He turned the phone off.
Fuck it he thought bitterly, as he buried his face in Ianto's pillows and breathed in his scent again. He needed to commit it to memory. Because memory was all he had left.
Hours later, Jack pulled himself up and dragged himself to the closet. He opened it. Ianto's suits were hanging there, just as he knew they would be. Beside them were jeans, hoodies, some old t-shirts of bands his colleagues - excluding Jack who had been granted access to his inner world - didn't know he listened to, his collection of silk ties, belts and dress shoes, sneakers, boots and array of costumes that Jack had purchased for him for their roleplaying. On the top shelf of the closet, a flash of red inside an opened postage bag had caught Jack's eye and he reached up and pulled it out.
The postmark said a week ago. Ianto would have received it when Jack was mad at him. He looked inside and pulled out the contents.
A red U.N.I.T. Beret.
Martha came through. That saucy minx. Ianto had it. Fuck.
Jack put it on the bed. He pulled out Ianto's burgundy red dress shirt and matching tie, and put it on the bed. He pulled out his favourite black wool blend suit, and added it to the pile. In the bottom of the closet was a sports bag. Jack pulled it out and opened it.
It was full of diaries. Huh.
He carried it over to the bed and sat down. Making himself comfortable, he pulled one out and opened it.
February 28
Tosh sent Tommy back to his correct time tonight. She must be heartbroken. I know I would be if I had to send Jack back.
I kissed him last night. It was amazing. I asked him if he regretted leaving his own time. He said he was meant to be here. I still wonder why he's with me. I see the way he watches Gwen. I know he thinks I'm oblivious. That's okay. He came to me, not her. He may watch her, but he comes to me. And maybe that's enough. Maybe it has to be?
Jack turned a few pages.
March 11
I managed to surprise Jack with a small birthday cake tonight. I know it's not really his birthday, but it's the date that Torchwood designated his DOB for ID purposes. I don't know if anyone has bothered to celebrate it before - surely they must have, he's been married before. I know about the box of photos in his bottom drawer of his desk. By his reaction though, it must have been a while since anyone has done anything like this for him. I... I wasn't sure if he'd appreciate a gift. I'm not sure how intimate this thing between us is. I'm ashamed to admit that I'm out of my depth having this type of, dare I use the word relationship, with a man. It was easier with Lisa. I knew what my 'role' was. It's harder with Jack. Not just because he's male. But because he's Jack.
I suppose I'll figure it out along the way. I'm glad I got the chocolate part right though.
Reminder: Canned whipped cream is not good for lubricant. And creates a mess. And awkward questions. Best to be avoided.
Jack laughed. He remembered that night. It was fun. Ianto allowed him to turn him into a plate and eat his cake off Ianto before fucking him into the mattress. Ianto then squirted whipped cream onto his cock and sucked it, and him, off.
God, he missed him. He missed him so much already. What the hell was he going to do without him? Wiping the stray tears away, he focused on the diaries, and one by one he worked his way through every page of the book in front of him.
He woke up with a start, the diary he'd been reading open across his chest. He looked around, disorientated for a moment before the horror had come flooding back. He glanced at the clock on the night stand. The red numbers read 2:38am. He had no idea how long he'd been asleep for. Jack pulled out his phone and turned it on. His voicemail was full. He sighed and closed his eyes again.
Dialling the number, he accessed the voicemail box and listened to the at first empathetic, then hysterical and then furious voicemails from Gwen. Owen had left one of his own, just stating that he was sending the girls home for the night but staying at the Hub himself to monitor the rift and to take his time to do whatever he needed to do, ignore Gwen and don't worry about things until he was ready to come back.
Jack knew he'd hired Owen for a reason.
Tosh had left a message stating that she hadn't had any success yet, but she was still working on it.
Rhiannon had called, and left a message for Jack to let him know that she was going to arrange a small memorial service for her brother in on the 1 year anniversary. Family and close friends only. No paper notification. No fuss. Ianto wouldn't want that. Just in case they were lucky. She had to have hope, Jack. She knew he'd understand.
He did.
Jack deleted all the voicemails except for Rhiannon's. Then he heard the voicemail tell him he had one old message. He frowned, and pressed play.
Jack, I was just calling to remind you to call the Prime Minister, but either you've remembered or the PM called you. Either way, well done. Did you want Chinese, Italian or Indian for dinner tonight? Or I could go home and you can have a night to yourself? Just, you know, uh, let me know. There was a pause. I, um. Look, I just wanted to say thank you for dinner last night. You really didn't have to take me out like that. I don't need to be woo'ed, Jack. Ianto chuckled that sexy laugh of his. But it was nice. As was dessert back at your place. He cleared his throat. Anyway. I'll be back soon. Just picking up your dry cleaning. See you soon.
Ianto's voice disappeared to a mechanical one from the voicemail service and Jack tried to swallow the rock in his throat as he hit save.
Reaching out for the lamp, he switched it on, wincing when he light hurt his eyes. He stood up and packed the diaries back into the sports bag. On top, he added the suit and the red beret. He moved around the bed to the nightstand and opened the bottom drawer, and pulled out the box of sex toys that Ianto kept in there. He found the toy he was looking for - Ianto's favourite that he liked Jack to use on him when he demanded Jack ride him and penetrate him at the same time, and added it to the bag. He looked inside the top drawer and found a pile of photographs. Jack pulled them out and looked through them. They were of Ianto and Jack. Jack remembered when Ianto had taken them with his digital camera... before the unfortunate incident with the Camillo artefact. Jack honestly didn't know that photographing it would destroy the technology taking the photograph.
Ianto hadn't been happy.
At least he'd taken the personal photos off the camera first, apparently. And had them printed. Jack didn't know that. He added the small collection to the bag, tucking them carefully inside one of the diaries. He closed the top drawer, put the box back in the bottom drawer and walked around the bed to turn off the light. He grabbed the bag and at the last minute the pillow from Ianto's bed.
In the lounge room, he added the book and DVDs to the bag. Also on the bookshelf were photos of Rhiannon and the kids. He took one of the whole family and added it to the bag. Before he was about to leave he remembered one more item. He put the bag down on the floor and returned to the bedroom, flipping the overhead light on. He moved to the tallboy in the corner and opened the top drawer, and rummaged around until he round two boxes. He opened them and found the contents still inside. He closed them again and took the boxes with him, shutting the drawers.
Rhiannon could go through the rest of the apartment and take what she wanted. Jack had what he wanted, what he needed to take with him. He added the two boxes to the bag, zipped it up, turned off all the lights, all the electrical appliances. He emptied the refrigerator and put all the food into a rubbish bag to put in the trash on the way out - it was the least he could do for Rhiannon.
Jack slung the sports bag over his shoulder, rested the pillow on the top of the bag, and picked up the rubbish bag, and with one last look around the flat, he backed out and locked the door. He didn't know where to go once he reached the SUV. He'd put the rubbish in the communal rubbish bin at the back of the complex on his way to the vehicle. He didn't want to go to the Hub but he knew he had to go back sometime.
Sighing, that's where he headed.
Owen looked up from his computer when the alarms sounded as Jack walked in with the bag slung over his shoulder.
“Jack.”
“Owen.” Jack didn't stop, and headed to his office. He knew Owen got to his feet and followed him though. Jack set the bag down on the couch that sat against one glass wall. Owen stood in the doorway. “Everything go okay today?”
“All things considered.”
Jack nodded.
“How'd it go with the family?”
“All things considered? Relatively well.” Jack turned to face his colleague. “Tomorrow I'll get a key cut to Ianto's flat and tell her she can box up his belongings. Take what she wants. Give the rest away. Whatever.”
Owen frowned. “Isn't that giving up, mate? Ianto hasn't even been gone a day yet?”
Jack closed his eyes. “Ianto's gone.” He opened them, and Owen could see the anguish and pain in them. “The sooner we accept that, the easier it will be to move on.”
~*~
Jack's words were easier to say than to do, however. Six months later, and Jack wasn't moving on. He was erratic in his behaviour. He was either throwing himself so hard into work that he was working on cases non stop to stop his mind thinking or he was brooding so much he would sink into a depression and not leave his den under his office for days, even weeks at a time.
He'd had more than one run in with Gwen, who was hellbent on Jack being focused on the job. For someone who had empathy, he didn't think her empathy ran as far deep as Jack losing his partner, his lover. Or maybe she didn't realise just how deeply he felt for Ianto. Maybe she didn't care? Maybe none of them did?
He would wander around the Hub late at night, and expect to see Ianto. Sometimes he would, and would do a double take, only to see nothing there. He ached to his hear his voice again, and sometimes think he would.
“Find me Jack...” he would hear, down in the archives. Jack would turn around around only to find himself alone. He'd slide to the ground against the filing cabinets that Ianto no longer took care of and sob.
He would replay the saved message on his phone over and over again, just to hear that laugh, those vowels on his name. Sometimes he'd ring his phone, which had been returned to him just as Andy had promised, just to hear the different message. He added Ianto's phone to the sports bag of memories. Jack couldn't help but wonder if the stopwatch made it through to wherever he was... because Jack didn't have it, and it wasn't at Ianto's flat.
At night, Jack would go weevil hunting alone. It wasn't as much fun without Ianto. And when he died, repeatedly, he was disappointed every time he gasped back painfully to life, only to find himself alone. There was no longer the comforting hand under his head, fingers in his hair carding through the strands, hand on his belly, telling him it'll be okay, he was safe. His comfort, his safety had gone. Ripped from him from the very thing he was there to protect the Earth from.
Irony was a bitch.
He lasted until the first anniversary. Rhiannon had phoned him, told him they were going to hold the memorial service in Cardiff. Turned out it was the park where Jack and Ianto first met - but Jack wasn't going to tell her that. He told her he'd be there, and he'd tell their team.
The Torchwood crew turned up in black. They all arrived in one vehicle. They followed Jack to where Rhiannon, Johnny and the kids, and a few others that Jack didn't know were standing around and talking. Even PC Davidson was there. Gwen was surprised. Rhiannon came over and hugged Jack. Jack clung to her.
“How you doing? Alright?” she asked, rubbing his back up and down.
“No,” he said simply, pulling back. “I miss him.”
She pulled back and nodded, tears welling in her eyes. “Yes. Me too.” She drew in a deep breath and let it out. “Right. Let's get this over with.”
The service was simple and elegant. Rhiannon had kept it non-denominational - Ianto wouldn't want anything to do with God in there, she'd told Jack. He'd given up on that when they were wee kids. She got up and said a few words.
“I know it seems strange... having a memorial service for someone we don't know if they're dead or alive... and we all live in hope, don't we?” she nodded. “We all live in hope. But if... if he's gone, well...” she swallowed. “My brother Ianto was a good lad. He always looked out for me when we was kids. He always took the beatin's from Da, never let 'im wail on me none. When Mam passed, he took care o' the house. Took care o' us really. An' when Da passed, he went to London, got a good Government job. He always sent us money, made sure we had what we needed. When he could he came to see the kids. He was a good lad.” She wiped at her eyes. “When Ianto loved you, he loved you with all he had. Never did things by halves he did. Always did things to the letter, yeah? Even shopliftin'. Made sure he got caught just so he could say he had a criminal record.” She chuckled. “I asked him, why'd you do it, Ianto? You're a good lad! Why'd you do it? And he told me, it won't do to be too perfect, Rhi. Gotta be a just a little rough around the edges like.” She looked up at the sky then closed her eyes. “Wherever you are Ianto, I hope you're okay. I hope you're safe. But I hope that you come back to us, safe, in one piece, and soon. Because we bloody well miss you. And don't think you'll escape a bollocking for doing this to us, because you won't!”
The crowd chuckled as she sat down, and started to weep into Johnny's shoulder. Gwen was crying and trying to take comfort in Jack's arm. She gasped when Jack stood up. Owen held her back.
Jack cleared his throat. “Ianto's very special to me.” He smiled softly. “I miss him. He had a way of making you feel like it didn't matter what you did, if it was for the greater good, then it was okay.” Jack shoved his hands in his pockets. “He was my partner, in every sense of the word.” There was a collective gasp. “I never got the chance to tell him I love him. But I do, with all that I am. And I was lucky enough to bask in the glory of Ianto's love. Rhiannon was right. When Ianto loves you, he loves with his whole being. It's an incredible thing. He's an incredible man. And I won't give up looking for him. Not while there's still air left in me.” He looked at Rhiannon. “I won't give up. Ever.”
She nodded, and at that moment, they shared an understanding. She realised that Jack was leaving. He was leaving to search the galaxy for her brother. Jack gave her a small smile and a single nod, then turned and walked away. He didn't go and sit down, he headed down to the Torchwood SUV. Gwen chased after him. She reached him when he was at the vehicle, opening the trunk of the car.
“What was all that about then?” Gwen demanded, her hand slamming on the car.
Jack reached inside for the bag and pulled it out, slamming the trunk shut. “What do you think it meant Gwen?”
“It sounded to me like you're leaving us!” she said urgently.
“You were paying attention then.”
“Jack!” she grabbed his arm and turned him to face her. “What are you doing?! Ianto's gone, Jack! You have to move on!”
“I can't!”
“You've got to!”
“No! What I've got to do is find him! He's out there somewhere and he's lost and alone and probably scared and he could be hurt and for the last year I've been here grieving when I should have been up there looking! So I'm going to make up for lost time!” Jack said firmly. He then swung around and took off for the top of the hill in the park.
“Jack! What about us!? What about Torchwood!?” Gwen yelled after him, running at his heels.
“You're more than capable of leading the team, Gwen. Hell, you relish bossing people around,” Jack replied, not changing his stride.
“What about me, Jack?” Gwen asked as they reached the pinnacle of the hill.
Jack turned to face her. “You have Rhys.”
Gwen started to cry. “I want you.”
Jack shook his head. “I want Ianto. I need him. I love him.” Jack leaned down and kissed Gwen's cheek. “Goodbye Gwen.”
She sobbed as he pressed some buttons on his wrist strap and disappeared just as Tosh and Owen came running over.
“Where's Jack?” Owen asked, looking around.
Gwen was sobbing. “He's gone.”
“What!? Where'd he go?” Owen asked, as Tosh put her arm around Gwen's shoulders.
“He w-went to f-find I-Ianto.”
“Ah, bollocks! Good luck to him!” Owen said, looking up at the sky, hands on his hips.
Chapter 3