Abstract Psychopaths by Nemo Baker (Chapter 6, The End!)
Title: Abstract Psychopaths
Summary: How do you fight a killer that’s only alive when you can’t see it? The answer: Don’t turn your back, don’t look away, and don’t blink.
Characters/Pairings: Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: Blink
A few days later, Ianto woke to the sound of his phone ringing. He gave a spectacular yawn, then threw his arm across the mattress to the bedside table. He leaned back into the pillow with his phone against his ear.
“Hello, Jack.”
“Hey. Don’t worry, we still haven’t had any more spikes. Just wanted to know if I could come over.”
“Yep. Slow day?”
“Yeah. I guess the Rift is waiting for you to get back from your day off.”
“How very kind. See you soon.”
“See you.”
Ianto hung up, a small sigh escaping him. Sunlight flooded his bedroom, a penetrating glare that spoke of afternoon as opposed to the gentle light of morning. He must have slept for quite a while, which surprised him. As tired as he’d been the previous night, he had still expected his troubled mind to replay his memories from the museum.
---
When he opened his eyes, the crack in the Rift was sealing shut before him.
The Angel was gone.
He let out a shuddering breath, and collapsed against the door behind him. Relief and shame seeped into his bones, overwhelming him. He stared for a few moments, until Jack’s voice sounded in his ear.
“I’ve got nothing over here. You?”
Ianto bit his lip.
“No. Nothing.”
---
He rolled out of bed to escape his musings, and trudged toward the kitchen. Jack would probably be arriving soon, and Ianto wanted to be able to offer him something for breakfast. He passed the living room, and glanced briefly at the tarp hanging over the blown-out window. Yesterday had been the first time he’d been home since the attack, and he’d been greeted by a sea of broken glass.
The orderly kitchen greeted him with its undisturbed familiarity. He pulled out the much-used coffee pot, as well as a carton of eggs from the fridge, and set to work. He normally didn’t find much relaxation in cooking, and his culinary skills didn’t extend far beyond being able to boil pasta. But today, domesticity felt like a welcome break.
Just as he was spilling the eggs from the frying pan onto two plates, he heard his front door swing open.
“Ianto?” Jack’s voiced echoed down the hall.
“Kitchen.”
There was the sound of approaching footsteps before Jack peeked around the doorframe.
“Thought I smelled something edible.”
“And here I thought maybe I’d managed to hit ‘palatable’ for once.”
Jack chuckled, sitting down at the counter and dragging one of the plates towards him. Ianto pulled up the other chair and sat on the opposite side.
“You sleep okay?” Jack asked before taking a bite of egg.
“Mm. Very well.”
“Good. I’ve just been worried, you’ve been kinda vacant for the past couple days.”
Ianto hoped the tension in his shoulders was imperceptible. “I’m fine.”
“Sure. I just know how you get when you’re feeling guilty.”
Ianto felt a pang in his stomach, and his cheeks burned. He stared down at the counter, unblinking. Jack had figured it out. Although he didn’t seem angry that Ianto had gone against orders, had let the Angel be taken, Ianto dreaded looking into the eyes in front of him and seeing disappointment reflected in their depths.
“And I know how you get,” he replied cautiously. “When you’re tired of making decisions you don’t want to make.”
Fingers brushed against his, and he glanced up to meet Jack’s understanding gaze. The smile on the other man’s lips was slightly sad.
“Sometimes, I need someone to make those decisions for me.”
Ianto nodded.
They finished eating in a more compatible silence, letting the melancholy drain slowly from the air. Jack took the dishes to the sink once Ianto put down his fork. Ianto poured them both a cup of coffee, and took a breath.
“How would you feel about watching Dirty Harry?”
Jack snorted, and looked over with an expression that told Ianto he truly was forgiven. Ianto felt the weight in his chest lessen.
“Yeah,” Jack said. “I could go for that.”
End
Beginning, Previous
Summary: How do you fight a killer that’s only alive when you can’t see it? The answer: Don’t turn your back, don’t look away, and don’t blink.
Characters/Pairings: Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: Blink
A few days later, Ianto woke to the sound of his phone ringing. He gave a spectacular yawn, then threw his arm across the mattress to the bedside table. He leaned back into the pillow with his phone against his ear.
“Hello, Jack.”
“Hey. Don’t worry, we still haven’t had any more spikes. Just wanted to know if I could come over.”
“Yep. Slow day?”
“Yeah. I guess the Rift is waiting for you to get back from your day off.”
“How very kind. See you soon.”
“See you.”
Ianto hung up, a small sigh escaping him. Sunlight flooded his bedroom, a penetrating glare that spoke of afternoon as opposed to the gentle light of morning. He must have slept for quite a while, which surprised him. As tired as he’d been the previous night, he had still expected his troubled mind to replay his memories from the museum.
---
When he opened his eyes, the crack in the Rift was sealing shut before him.
The Angel was gone.
He let out a shuddering breath, and collapsed against the door behind him. Relief and shame seeped into his bones, overwhelming him. He stared for a few moments, until Jack’s voice sounded in his ear.
“I’ve got nothing over here. You?”
Ianto bit his lip.
“No. Nothing.”
---
He rolled out of bed to escape his musings, and trudged toward the kitchen. Jack would probably be arriving soon, and Ianto wanted to be able to offer him something for breakfast. He passed the living room, and glanced briefly at the tarp hanging over the blown-out window. Yesterday had been the first time he’d been home since the attack, and he’d been greeted by a sea of broken glass.
The orderly kitchen greeted him with its undisturbed familiarity. He pulled out the much-used coffee pot, as well as a carton of eggs from the fridge, and set to work. He normally didn’t find much relaxation in cooking, and his culinary skills didn’t extend far beyond being able to boil pasta. But today, domesticity felt like a welcome break.
Just as he was spilling the eggs from the frying pan onto two plates, he heard his front door swing open.
“Ianto?” Jack’s voiced echoed down the hall.
“Kitchen.”
There was the sound of approaching footsteps before Jack peeked around the doorframe.
“Thought I smelled something edible.”
“And here I thought maybe I’d managed to hit ‘palatable’ for once.”
Jack chuckled, sitting down at the counter and dragging one of the plates towards him. Ianto pulled up the other chair and sat on the opposite side.
“You sleep okay?” Jack asked before taking a bite of egg.
“Mm. Very well.”
“Good. I’ve just been worried, you’ve been kinda vacant for the past couple days.”
Ianto hoped the tension in his shoulders was imperceptible. “I’m fine.”
“Sure. I just know how you get when you’re feeling guilty.”
Ianto felt a pang in his stomach, and his cheeks burned. He stared down at the counter, unblinking. Jack had figured it out. Although he didn’t seem angry that Ianto had gone against orders, had let the Angel be taken, Ianto dreaded looking into the eyes in front of him and seeing disappointment reflected in their depths.
“And I know how you get,” he replied cautiously. “When you’re tired of making decisions you don’t want to make.”
Fingers brushed against his, and he glanced up to meet Jack’s understanding gaze. The smile on the other man’s lips was slightly sad.
“Sometimes, I need someone to make those decisions for me.”
Ianto nodded.
They finished eating in a more compatible silence, letting the melancholy drain slowly from the air. Jack took the dishes to the sink once Ianto put down his fork. Ianto poured them both a cup of coffee, and took a breath.
“How would you feel about watching Dirty Harry?”
Jack snorted, and looked over with an expression that told Ianto he truly was forgiven. Ianto felt the weight in his chest lessen.
“Yeah,” Jack said. “I could go for that.”
End
Beginning, Previous