Belonging: Chapter Fifteen
Author's Notes: Is it me, or is something a bit… different this time?
Title: Belonging - Chapter Fifteen
Fandom: Doctor Who/Torchwood
Characters Ianto, Jack, Ten (mentions of Jack/Ianto, Ianto/OC, Ianto/Lisa)
Rating: This Chapter - R for language and mentions of adult situations (Series is rated NC-17 overall)
Spoilers: TW: Cyberwoman, End of Days, Adam, Exit Wounds / DW: Parting of the Ways, U/SoD/LotTL, The Stolen Earth, Journey's End
Disclaimer: The BBC own it all, the little tinkers
Warnings: angst
Description:
Set immediately after the events of The Stolen Earth/Journey's End.
The Torchwood team members are struggling to get back to normal after recent shattering events, when the Doctor turns up in the Torchwood Hub in the middle of the night; alone, heartbroken, guilt-ridden, and needing somewhere to belong.
I'm feeling a bit freaked out right now. Something weird happened earlier, and I haven't told anyone about it yet.
Chapter Fifteen
Hello.
If you've been reading this journal from the beginning, you might notice that this part looks different.
Firstly, you will see that the handwriting is a little less perfect. Jack's handwriting is impeccable; it's that neat, 1940's-style tiny lettering with all the letters exactly the same height, and the little swirly loops on the 'g's and the 'y's. Well, of course, you already know that, if you've read this far.
My handwriting is… well, it's not quite as neat. Which annoys me, because I like neat. I don't like people being tidier than me. I try to be as tidy and thorough as I can be in all things. Which is why I do my job so well. I take care over the little details. Which is probably why I'm taking so long to get to the point of this. Forgive me.
My name is Ianto Jones. If you have been reading this far, the name might be familiar to you, by now.
Although, I'm a little curious as to whom, apart from Jack, and me, and possibly the Doctor, would want to read this journal, anyway?
Before I continue, I would refer you to the events of Jack's last entry when at the end Jack came into the TARDIS without warning and found me and the Doctor together. (It was all a bit dramatic, wasn't it? Jack, you're wasted round here.)
Suffice to say, it wasn't what it looked like. Well… it sort of was. But it wasn't.
And obviously, Jack wanted an explanation for what it was, because he certainly thought it looked like what it… wasn't. Except it was.
Yeah, I'll come back to it later, when I work out a way of explaining it properly. That’s why I'm writing in Jack's journal, to explain everything. I could just tell him, of course. Speak to him, I mean. But the thing is, sometimes it's hard to say things out loud, isn't it?
And so because we we've been getting all tongue-tied and awkward with each other, the Doctor had this brilliant idea of me writing in Jack's journal and then giving it to him to read, so that everything is down in black and white and there can't be any misunderstandings.
And Jack thought it might be a good idea if I read his journal first. He said he was thinking of letting me read it anyway, because he's put down everything in it, a full record of the events concerning him and the Doctor (and me), including a description of his emotions and things, and he said that if I read it, I might understand how he was feeling, because he's useless at telling me.
He is a bit useless at telling me things, actually. There are tons of details about himself he's never told me. It's hardly fair, he knows practically everything about me, but most of what makes up Jack's past (and some of his present) is a big black hole.
I know some stuff; like he's from the far future, and he is a Human Progeny (which means he was born on a different planet but descended from the last humans of Earth... which makes him... well, human, really, which means I am definitely not shagging an alien. Well... not just yet, anyway.)
I know about when he was a kid, and what happened to his parents, and to his brother Gray. I didn't learn about that until fairly recently. It's horrible. It still doesn't excuse what Gray did, but at least Jack doesn't try to defend him. He just blames himself for what Gray became. Blaming himself is what Jack tends to do when things go wrong; it's a habit I wish I could break him out of.
He blames himself for what happened to Owen and Tosh, and I wish he wouldn't. I wish he'd try to be a bit more forgiving of himself.
I also know that he's immortal, of course, and that it happened sort of by accident, and it was something to do with that Rose Tyler girl. I'm not sure Jack really understands it himself.
I must admit, sometimes it's a difficult thing to get your head round, the fact that your boyfriend isn't going to age, and he isn't going to die.
How is he going to feel about me in twenty years? Forty years? If I'm still around, that is. Is he still going to want me when I'm grey and need a walking stick, and can't get it up anymore, and have to get up three times a night to pee? Sometimes I can't bear to think about it. Sometimes I think I should just live for the moment, and feel lucky for every day Jack still wants me.
That said, sometimes I think his immortality is a blessing. Because I know that no matter what happens, and goodness knows we face danger almost every day, at least I'm safe in the knowledge that Jack will always be alright. He'll always come out alive. (Although, I have to say, I bloody hate it when he dies). I never have to face the fear of losing him like that. After what happened to Tosh and Owen, somehow I'm more grateful of that than I ever was.
There are downsides to it, even then, of course. Like the fact that Jack being immortal meant that Gray could punish him in the worst way. I still have nightmares where it's me buried alive, choking to death and then waking up, only for the whole ordeal to start all over again. And Jack had to go through that. For over 2,000 years. Can you imagine? Sometimes I wonder how in hell's name he could still be sane. Sometimes, in the middle of the night, I wake up and watch him pretending to sleep for a while, just to see him breathing.
Actually, after being reminded of that, I wish Jack were here right now. I want to hold him.
Ah, well. He's out chasing something blue with lots of spines and teeth, so he's happy.
Most of the details of Jack's past adult life are unknown to me, because he hardly ever talks about... well, anything, really. I know about the Time Agency, and I know that he has done some bad things in the past. Some... dark things. And I'm not sure whether he's reluctant to talk about it because he's ashamed, and worried that I might think badly of him, or whether he can hardly bear to think of himself in that way again, and he'd rather just forget all about it.
I know that he's lived through the last hundred years or so in Cardiff. Well, longer. I know he started working (freelance) for Torchwood in 1899. And I know that ever since then, or even before then, he's been looking for the Doctor. Or should I say, waiting for him. He knew the Doctor would turn up in Cardiff some day, to fuel that TARDIS of his via the Rift. It's all there, in the Torchwood files.
And I'll tell you what else I know about Jack. That despite his dark past, he is a changed man. I think the Doctor had a lot to do with that, so I should be grateful to him for that, at least. Jack Harkness is a good man. He can be ruthless when it comes to work, but he's fair, and he gets the job done. And if there is ever a need for a difficult decision to be made, Jack has it in him to make it, and stick to it, no matter what people think of him. That's admirable.
Jack can be a tough guy. But I know a different side to him, too. He's a pain in the arse, but he is also kind, considerate and sometimes, he can even be thoughtful, if given the right sort of prod.
And despite all the hard times, especially the time when I let him down... hell, when I let everybody down, during the whole Lisa incident, he cared enough about me, even then, to forgive me and give me a second chance. I was angry at first, I hated him; there was a time when I wanted to kill him for what he did to Lisa. But during the four weeks I was suspended from duty, I had time to think and eventually, I realised how deluded and short-sighted I'd been. He'd been right about everything.
I owe Jack everything, really. If it wasn't for him, if it wasn't for Torchwood, I would have no place in this world. I was broken, after Lisa, and it was Jack who fixed me. I think he'd like to fix the whole world, if he could.
After Lisa... Jack made me better. He spent time with me. Lots of quality time. Made me feel special and supported. And when I came back to work, he saw me as more than just the coffee boy. He got me out of the office, gave me more responsibility. Made me feel needed. Gave me a purpose. And... eventually, I came to see that no matter how much I'd thought I would never, ever recover, there did come a time when I could finally see the light at the end of the tunnel.
And Jack and me... we got closer and closer. And I started having feelings for him, and he started with the gentle flirtation. Well, actually, he's always flirted with me (by that, read: sexual harassment), but I never took that much notice before.
Actually... that's not quite right. When I first met Jack, when I started hassling him for a job, I mean, being proactive in obtaining employment, there was... something there, right from the beginning. I think it was that bloody coat of his. I've always loved the coat. And then when we finally caught Myfanwy together, there was a moment when... well, there was a spark between us.
And it rattled me, because there was Lisa, and she was all that mattered to me at the time. Poor, broken Lisa. I loved her, and she needed me. I needed to get into Torchwood Three so badly, for her, I thought I could save her, and that desperation in me blotted out everything else. But I can see now that there was always something between Jack and me. It just took me a while to realise it.
I wasn't really interested, you see, especially not while I was with Lisa, or just after she... after I lost her. I've not had that much experience when it comes to relationships. I was a bit of a late bloomer. My first kiss was with a girl (whose name I can't even remember) when I was about 12, and then my first proper snog was behind the youth club with Glen Morgan and he turned out to be a complete dick. He was one of those boys who could grow bumfluff on his top lip and thought he was it. And it was his fault I got arrested for shoplifting at Topman when I was fifteen, because he threatened to tell everyone at school that I was a faggot if I didn't steal him this shirt he wanted.
Which put me off romance for a bit.
And then there was an unsatisfactory fumble with Samantha Kerrigan at a party when I was 17, Jonathan Hewitt and Sandra Robson at 18, (both unmitigated disasters), a couple of snogs with random girls in clubs when I was a bit older, and that was it until I met Lisa.
And she was my world. I thought that was it for me, thought I had the whole love thing sorted out for life.
Yeah. Funny how things work out. Well... not funny, as it happens.
So... anyway, Jack started flirting (and it's never that subtle, when he decides he knows what he wants, it's like he turns into a one-man tribute to a Benny Hill Christmas special, bless him) and eventually I did start to take notice. And it was... nice. Because I'd never had that sort of confidence before, never really thought of myself as fanciable. So I felt pretty special when Jack Harkness started making it clear that he fancied me (well, okay, he'd pretty much go for anybody with a pulse) but even so. It made me feel good.
And there was that one time, when I was feeling a bit adventurous, and I just made a suggestion to Jack, and we ended up playing that game with my stopwatch. And I aren't getting into that right now, but... yeah. We made up a few games. And we went through a few stopwatches in those early days. I had to order two replacements in the same week one time. Hmm.
So that's where we started. We were just... dabbling, at first. Well, for a while actually. I knew he was still messing around with other people. But I started to fall for Jack more and more deeply, until it got to the point where I wanted him all to myself. There's nothing wrong with that, is there?
And then Bilis Manger turned up, and it all turned to shit.
That was a bad time for me. I thought Jack was dead, good and proper, after he'd faced Abbadon. We thought whatever unexplainable life-force Jack has in his body had all been gobbled up by that huge bloody beast, and that he'd wouldn't come back this time.
I still had to hope. Gwen never gave up on him, so I couldn't either. I made sure his office was nice and tidy, and all his paperwork was up to date, and that his coat was brushed and sponged clean. I could have had it dry-cleaned for him properly, but that would have gotten rid of his scent, and it was being able to smell Jack on his coat that kept me going those few long days.
I wanted it all nice and neat for him, you see, all right, for when he woke up, but really, in the back of mind, I was scared I would never see him again.
Imagine my relief when he came back from the darkness. And then... after I'd barely been able to take in the fact that I hadn't lost him after all, he went and disappeared on us. For months. That hurt. Not so much that he'd gone away, but that he'd not even said goodbye, or explained anything about where he was going.
And then it all kicked off, with the rest of us having to dash off to Tibet, and the aftermath of the US President's assassination and the disappearance of the Prime Minister to have to sort out, and we all had to get used to carrying on without him.
Now, I know, of course, that he'd found the Doctor, and he'd dropped everything to be with him. Not for the last time, I might add. And that made it hurt even more, in a way. Because I'd begun to think that I was maybe somebody special to Jack, but just when I was beginning to think that, it felt like he'd dropped me like a hot brick in favour of that bloody Doctor of his again, and that made me feel about as unspecial as you can get.
And I still don't really know what happened while he was away. I managed to get some details out of him, he told me that the Prime Minister turned out to be an alien, the same sort of alien as the Doctor, and that he'd caused unimaginable chaos and destruction.
I couldn't believe it. I'd always really liked Harold Saxon. I can't really remember what his policies were, but they'd seemed... really good. I'd have voted for him, if we'd been around for election day and not chasing a Harvoxxian Water Beast around Cardiff Bay until 9.00pm. And he was certainly the cutest politician I'd seen since...well, I can't think of any other cute politicians.
It all seems a bit of a blur, now.
Anyway, Jack told me that although it had only been a few months for me, it had been a whole year for him, but that year had sort of been erased, and only he and Martha, and Martha's family knew what had happened. And the Doctor, of course.
And... that year. He didn't tell me very much, except he'd seen the end of the world. And that I had died. Everyone at Torchwood had died. That's a scary thing that I don't really want to think about. And Jack suffered. Badly. Him and the Doctor both did, and Martha too, and her family. Martha doesn't like talking about it. Jack won't tell me anything else about it, either. He just says that at the end of the day, everything was reversed and put right, and that's all that matters.
But that's not the point, actually. Because if I ever got hold of the bastards who hurt Jack, whether they remembered doing it or not, I'd kill them.
I think, when he does sleep, which isn't often, he still has bad dreams about that year. I'm glad, in a way, that I don't know many details, because I have enough bad dreams of my own.
Whatever happened, it brought the Doctor and Jack closer again. I think Jack got at least some of the answers he'd been searching for, and in turn, forgave the Doctor for abandoning him in the future (but his past). (It makes my head hurt to think about it, this timey wimey stuff. That's what the Doctor calls it, and I must say the phrase sort of fits.)
Anyway, when Jack told me bits about where he'd been, whenever he spoke about the Doctor, something would change in his face. In his eyes. And in his voice. He'd go all sort of... wistful. Sometimes I'd see him sitting in his office staring at that coral on his desk. Sometimes I think he was wondering whether he'd made the right decision about leaving the Doctor to come back to me and Torchwood.
And I was jealous. I admit that.
I thought... well, I thought something was going on between them while he was away. Had always been going on. Although, I realise now that that was a bit irrational of me, given the circumstances.
And then, after everything, after Tosh and Owen, and finally getting rid of that arsehole John Hart, I got Jack to promise me... some sort of commitment. I thought we were finally on track. Then the Earth got moved, and the Daleks were coming and it was like... Super Doctor to the rescue. And I saw him on the computer screen, for the first time, and... well. He was amazing. Gorgeous. Even Gwen was cooing over him. He was everything I'd been worried he was, and more. Not exactly a confidence boost, is it?
But Jack came back to me, like he'd promised. I knew I'd have to take that as something meaningful. I mean... twice now, right?
And then (this is like one of those essays I had to write at school about What We Did in the Holidays, when every sentence started with "And then...". Sorry. I'm not quite as eloquent as Jack when it comes to this sort of thing, it seems. That's pretty annoying as well.)
So anyway, and THEN the Doctor turns up, right in the Hub! And Jack hears this sound like a whale in pain, and before I'm even properly awake, he practically stands on my head to get away, to get to him. You can understand why I was a bit annoyed. By the time I got to him with some clothes (they weren't even clean ones, ha) he's standing there bare-arse naked, cradling the Doctor's face like something out of one my gran's Mills & Boon novels.
No Jack, it didn't look good.
Anyway, rather than reiterating the whole of Jack's journal so far, I'm going to put across my side of the story.
Not right now though. I might carry on tomorrow. My hand is killing me, and I'm feeling a bit freaked out. Something weird happened earlier, and I haven't told anyone about it yet. Well, I'll have to tell Jack, because he might know what it means.
I know what made it happen, after reading Jack's journal, but I don't know why. Why ME, I mean.
You see, I went down earlier, to check on the Weevils and give them their food.
And they were looking at me in a funny sort of way, like they were sizing me up. And then… well, I'm almost sure this happened, but I have been a bit stressed lately, so I might have imagined it. It sounded really clear though, but not loud, it was sort of inside my head.
When I brought them their food, the Weevils said thank you to me.
In Welsh.
To be continued
<< Chapter One
<< Chapter Two
<< Chapter Three
<< Chapter Four
<< Chapter Five
<< Chapter Six
<< Chapter Seven
<< Chapter Eight
<< Chapter Nine
<< Chapter Ten
<< Chapter Eleven
<< Chapter Twelve
<< Chapter Thirteen
<< Chapter Fourteen
>> Chapter Sixteen
>> Chapter Seventeen
>> Chapter Eighteen
>> Chapter Nineteen
>> Chapter Twenty
>> Chapter Twenty One
>> Chapter Twenty Two
>> Chapter Twenty Three
>> Chapter Twenty Four
>> Chapter Twenty Five
>> Chapter Twenty Six
>> Chapter Twenty Seven
>> Chapter Twenty Eight
Title: Belonging - Chapter Fifteen
Fandom: Doctor Who/Torchwood
Characters Ianto, Jack, Ten (mentions of Jack/Ianto, Ianto/OC, Ianto/Lisa)
Rating: This Chapter - R for language and mentions of adult situations (Series is rated NC-17 overall)
Spoilers: TW: Cyberwoman, End of Days, Adam, Exit Wounds / DW: Parting of the Ways, U/SoD/LotTL, The Stolen Earth, Journey's End
Disclaimer: The BBC own it all, the little tinkers
Warnings: angst
Description:
Set immediately after the events of The Stolen Earth/Journey's End.
The Torchwood team members are struggling to get back to normal after recent shattering events, when the Doctor turns up in the Torchwood Hub in the middle of the night; alone, heartbroken, guilt-ridden, and needing somewhere to belong.
I'm feeling a bit freaked out right now. Something weird happened earlier, and I haven't told anyone about it yet.
Chapter Fifteen
Hello.
If you've been reading this journal from the beginning, you might notice that this part looks different.
Firstly, you will see that the handwriting is a little less perfect. Jack's handwriting is impeccable; it's that neat, 1940's-style tiny lettering with all the letters exactly the same height, and the little swirly loops on the 'g's and the 'y's. Well, of course, you already know that, if you've read this far.
My handwriting is… well, it's not quite as neat. Which annoys me, because I like neat. I don't like people being tidier than me. I try to be as tidy and thorough as I can be in all things. Which is why I do my job so well. I take care over the little details. Which is probably why I'm taking so long to get to the point of this. Forgive me.
My name is Ianto Jones. If you have been reading this far, the name might be familiar to you, by now.
Although, I'm a little curious as to whom, apart from Jack, and me, and possibly the Doctor, would want to read this journal, anyway?
Before I continue, I would refer you to the events of Jack's last entry when at the end Jack came into the TARDIS without warning and found me and the Doctor together. (It was all a bit dramatic, wasn't it? Jack, you're wasted round here.)
Suffice to say, it wasn't what it looked like. Well… it sort of was. But it wasn't.
And obviously, Jack wanted an explanation for what it was, because he certainly thought it looked like what it… wasn't. Except it was.
Yeah, I'll come back to it later, when I work out a way of explaining it properly. That’s why I'm writing in Jack's journal, to explain everything. I could just tell him, of course. Speak to him, I mean. But the thing is, sometimes it's hard to say things out loud, isn't it?
And so because we we've been getting all tongue-tied and awkward with each other, the Doctor had this brilliant idea of me writing in Jack's journal and then giving it to him to read, so that everything is down in black and white and there can't be any misunderstandings.
And Jack thought it might be a good idea if I read his journal first. He said he was thinking of letting me read it anyway, because he's put down everything in it, a full record of the events concerning him and the Doctor (and me), including a description of his emotions and things, and he said that if I read it, I might understand how he was feeling, because he's useless at telling me.
He is a bit useless at telling me things, actually. There are tons of details about himself he's never told me. It's hardly fair, he knows practically everything about me, but most of what makes up Jack's past (and some of his present) is a big black hole.
I know some stuff; like he's from the far future, and he is a Human Progeny (which means he was born on a different planet but descended from the last humans of Earth... which makes him... well, human, really, which means I am definitely not shagging an alien. Well... not just yet, anyway.)
I know about when he was a kid, and what happened to his parents, and to his brother Gray. I didn't learn about that until fairly recently. It's horrible. It still doesn't excuse what Gray did, but at least Jack doesn't try to defend him. He just blames himself for what Gray became. Blaming himself is what Jack tends to do when things go wrong; it's a habit I wish I could break him out of.
He blames himself for what happened to Owen and Tosh, and I wish he wouldn't. I wish he'd try to be a bit more forgiving of himself.
I also know that he's immortal, of course, and that it happened sort of by accident, and it was something to do with that Rose Tyler girl. I'm not sure Jack really understands it himself.
I must admit, sometimes it's a difficult thing to get your head round, the fact that your boyfriend isn't going to age, and he isn't going to die.
How is he going to feel about me in twenty years? Forty years? If I'm still around, that is. Is he still going to want me when I'm grey and need a walking stick, and can't get it up anymore, and have to get up three times a night to pee? Sometimes I can't bear to think about it. Sometimes I think I should just live for the moment, and feel lucky for every day Jack still wants me.
That said, sometimes I think his immortality is a blessing. Because I know that no matter what happens, and goodness knows we face danger almost every day, at least I'm safe in the knowledge that Jack will always be alright. He'll always come out alive. (Although, I have to say, I bloody hate it when he dies). I never have to face the fear of losing him like that. After what happened to Tosh and Owen, somehow I'm more grateful of that than I ever was.
There are downsides to it, even then, of course. Like the fact that Jack being immortal meant that Gray could punish him in the worst way. I still have nightmares where it's me buried alive, choking to death and then waking up, only for the whole ordeal to start all over again. And Jack had to go through that. For over 2,000 years. Can you imagine? Sometimes I wonder how in hell's name he could still be sane. Sometimes, in the middle of the night, I wake up and watch him pretending to sleep for a while, just to see him breathing.
Actually, after being reminded of that, I wish Jack were here right now. I want to hold him.
Ah, well. He's out chasing something blue with lots of spines and teeth, so he's happy.
Most of the details of Jack's past adult life are unknown to me, because he hardly ever talks about... well, anything, really. I know about the Time Agency, and I know that he has done some bad things in the past. Some... dark things. And I'm not sure whether he's reluctant to talk about it because he's ashamed, and worried that I might think badly of him, or whether he can hardly bear to think of himself in that way again, and he'd rather just forget all about it.
I know that he's lived through the last hundred years or so in Cardiff. Well, longer. I know he started working (freelance) for Torchwood in 1899. And I know that ever since then, or even before then, he's been looking for the Doctor. Or should I say, waiting for him. He knew the Doctor would turn up in Cardiff some day, to fuel that TARDIS of his via the Rift. It's all there, in the Torchwood files.
And I'll tell you what else I know about Jack. That despite his dark past, he is a changed man. I think the Doctor had a lot to do with that, so I should be grateful to him for that, at least. Jack Harkness is a good man. He can be ruthless when it comes to work, but he's fair, and he gets the job done. And if there is ever a need for a difficult decision to be made, Jack has it in him to make it, and stick to it, no matter what people think of him. That's admirable.
Jack can be a tough guy. But I know a different side to him, too. He's a pain in the arse, but he is also kind, considerate and sometimes, he can even be thoughtful, if given the right sort of prod.
And despite all the hard times, especially the time when I let him down... hell, when I let everybody down, during the whole Lisa incident, he cared enough about me, even then, to forgive me and give me a second chance. I was angry at first, I hated him; there was a time when I wanted to kill him for what he did to Lisa. But during the four weeks I was suspended from duty, I had time to think and eventually, I realised how deluded and short-sighted I'd been. He'd been right about everything.
I owe Jack everything, really. If it wasn't for him, if it wasn't for Torchwood, I would have no place in this world. I was broken, after Lisa, and it was Jack who fixed me. I think he'd like to fix the whole world, if he could.
After Lisa... Jack made me better. He spent time with me. Lots of quality time. Made me feel special and supported. And when I came back to work, he saw me as more than just the coffee boy. He got me out of the office, gave me more responsibility. Made me feel needed. Gave me a purpose. And... eventually, I came to see that no matter how much I'd thought I would never, ever recover, there did come a time when I could finally see the light at the end of the tunnel.
And Jack and me... we got closer and closer. And I started having feelings for him, and he started with the gentle flirtation. Well, actually, he's always flirted with me (by that, read: sexual harassment), but I never took that much notice before.
Actually... that's not quite right. When I first met Jack, when I started hassling him for a job, I mean, being proactive in obtaining employment, there was... something there, right from the beginning. I think it was that bloody coat of his. I've always loved the coat. And then when we finally caught Myfanwy together, there was a moment when... well, there was a spark between us.
And it rattled me, because there was Lisa, and she was all that mattered to me at the time. Poor, broken Lisa. I loved her, and she needed me. I needed to get into Torchwood Three so badly, for her, I thought I could save her, and that desperation in me blotted out everything else. But I can see now that there was always something between Jack and me. It just took me a while to realise it.
I wasn't really interested, you see, especially not while I was with Lisa, or just after she... after I lost her. I've not had that much experience when it comes to relationships. I was a bit of a late bloomer. My first kiss was with a girl (whose name I can't even remember) when I was about 12, and then my first proper snog was behind the youth club with Glen Morgan and he turned out to be a complete dick. He was one of those boys who could grow bumfluff on his top lip and thought he was it. And it was his fault I got arrested for shoplifting at Topman when I was fifteen, because he threatened to tell everyone at school that I was a faggot if I didn't steal him this shirt he wanted.
Which put me off romance for a bit.
And then there was an unsatisfactory fumble with Samantha Kerrigan at a party when I was 17, Jonathan Hewitt and Sandra Robson at 18, (both unmitigated disasters), a couple of snogs with random girls in clubs when I was a bit older, and that was it until I met Lisa.
And she was my world. I thought that was it for me, thought I had the whole love thing sorted out for life.
Yeah. Funny how things work out. Well... not funny, as it happens.
So... anyway, Jack started flirting (and it's never that subtle, when he decides he knows what he wants, it's like he turns into a one-man tribute to a Benny Hill Christmas special, bless him) and eventually I did start to take notice. And it was... nice. Because I'd never had that sort of confidence before, never really thought of myself as fanciable. So I felt pretty special when Jack Harkness started making it clear that he fancied me (well, okay, he'd pretty much go for anybody with a pulse) but even so. It made me feel good.
And there was that one time, when I was feeling a bit adventurous, and I just made a suggestion to Jack, and we ended up playing that game with my stopwatch. And I aren't getting into that right now, but... yeah. We made up a few games. And we went through a few stopwatches in those early days. I had to order two replacements in the same week one time. Hmm.
So that's where we started. We were just... dabbling, at first. Well, for a while actually. I knew he was still messing around with other people. But I started to fall for Jack more and more deeply, until it got to the point where I wanted him all to myself. There's nothing wrong with that, is there?
And then Bilis Manger turned up, and it all turned to shit.
That was a bad time for me. I thought Jack was dead, good and proper, after he'd faced Abbadon. We thought whatever unexplainable life-force Jack has in his body had all been gobbled up by that huge bloody beast, and that he'd wouldn't come back this time.
I still had to hope. Gwen never gave up on him, so I couldn't either. I made sure his office was nice and tidy, and all his paperwork was up to date, and that his coat was brushed and sponged clean. I could have had it dry-cleaned for him properly, but that would have gotten rid of his scent, and it was being able to smell Jack on his coat that kept me going those few long days.
I wanted it all nice and neat for him, you see, all right, for when he woke up, but really, in the back of mind, I was scared I would never see him again.
Imagine my relief when he came back from the darkness. And then... after I'd barely been able to take in the fact that I hadn't lost him after all, he went and disappeared on us. For months. That hurt. Not so much that he'd gone away, but that he'd not even said goodbye, or explained anything about where he was going.
And then it all kicked off, with the rest of us having to dash off to Tibet, and the aftermath of the US President's assassination and the disappearance of the Prime Minister to have to sort out, and we all had to get used to carrying on without him.
Now, I know, of course, that he'd found the Doctor, and he'd dropped everything to be with him. Not for the last time, I might add. And that made it hurt even more, in a way. Because I'd begun to think that I was maybe somebody special to Jack, but just when I was beginning to think that, it felt like he'd dropped me like a hot brick in favour of that bloody Doctor of his again, and that made me feel about as unspecial as you can get.
And I still don't really know what happened while he was away. I managed to get some details out of him, he told me that the Prime Minister turned out to be an alien, the same sort of alien as the Doctor, and that he'd caused unimaginable chaos and destruction.
I couldn't believe it. I'd always really liked Harold Saxon. I can't really remember what his policies were, but they'd seemed... really good. I'd have voted for him, if we'd been around for election day and not chasing a Harvoxxian Water Beast around Cardiff Bay until 9.00pm. And he was certainly the cutest politician I'd seen since...well, I can't think of any other cute politicians.
It all seems a bit of a blur, now.
Anyway, Jack told me that although it had only been a few months for me, it had been a whole year for him, but that year had sort of been erased, and only he and Martha, and Martha's family knew what had happened. And the Doctor, of course.
And... that year. He didn't tell me very much, except he'd seen the end of the world. And that I had died. Everyone at Torchwood had died. That's a scary thing that I don't really want to think about. And Jack suffered. Badly. Him and the Doctor both did, and Martha too, and her family. Martha doesn't like talking about it. Jack won't tell me anything else about it, either. He just says that at the end of the day, everything was reversed and put right, and that's all that matters.
But that's not the point, actually. Because if I ever got hold of the bastards who hurt Jack, whether they remembered doing it or not, I'd kill them.
I think, when he does sleep, which isn't often, he still has bad dreams about that year. I'm glad, in a way, that I don't know many details, because I have enough bad dreams of my own.
Whatever happened, it brought the Doctor and Jack closer again. I think Jack got at least some of the answers he'd been searching for, and in turn, forgave the Doctor for abandoning him in the future (but his past). (It makes my head hurt to think about it, this timey wimey stuff. That's what the Doctor calls it, and I must say the phrase sort of fits.)
Anyway, when Jack told me bits about where he'd been, whenever he spoke about the Doctor, something would change in his face. In his eyes. And in his voice. He'd go all sort of... wistful. Sometimes I'd see him sitting in his office staring at that coral on his desk. Sometimes I think he was wondering whether he'd made the right decision about leaving the Doctor to come back to me and Torchwood.
And I was jealous. I admit that.
I thought... well, I thought something was going on between them while he was away. Had always been going on. Although, I realise now that that was a bit irrational of me, given the circumstances.
And then, after everything, after Tosh and Owen, and finally getting rid of that arsehole John Hart, I got Jack to promise me... some sort of commitment. I thought we were finally on track. Then the Earth got moved, and the Daleks were coming and it was like... Super Doctor to the rescue. And I saw him on the computer screen, for the first time, and... well. He was amazing. Gorgeous. Even Gwen was cooing over him. He was everything I'd been worried he was, and more. Not exactly a confidence boost, is it?
But Jack came back to me, like he'd promised. I knew I'd have to take that as something meaningful. I mean... twice now, right?
And then (this is like one of those essays I had to write at school about What We Did in the Holidays, when every sentence started with "And then...". Sorry. I'm not quite as eloquent as Jack when it comes to this sort of thing, it seems. That's pretty annoying as well.)
So anyway, and THEN the Doctor turns up, right in the Hub! And Jack hears this sound like a whale in pain, and before I'm even properly awake, he practically stands on my head to get away, to get to him. You can understand why I was a bit annoyed. By the time I got to him with some clothes (they weren't even clean ones, ha) he's standing there bare-arse naked, cradling the Doctor's face like something out of one my gran's Mills & Boon novels.
No Jack, it didn't look good.
Anyway, rather than reiterating the whole of Jack's journal so far, I'm going to put across my side of the story.
Not right now though. I might carry on tomorrow. My hand is killing me, and I'm feeling a bit freaked out. Something weird happened earlier, and I haven't told anyone about it yet. Well, I'll have to tell Jack, because he might know what it means.
I know what made it happen, after reading Jack's journal, but I don't know why. Why ME, I mean.
You see, I went down earlier, to check on the Weevils and give them their food.
And they were looking at me in a funny sort of way, like they were sizing me up. And then… well, I'm almost sure this happened, but I have been a bit stressed lately, so I might have imagined it. It sounded really clear though, but not loud, it was sort of inside my head.
When I brought them their food, the Weevils said thank you to me.
In Welsh.
To be continued
<< Chapter One
<< Chapter Two
<< Chapter Three
<< Chapter Four
<< Chapter Five
<< Chapter Six
<< Chapter Seven
<< Chapter Eight
<< Chapter Nine
<< Chapter Ten
<< Chapter Eleven
<< Chapter Twelve
<< Chapter Thirteen
<< Chapter Fourteen
>> Chapter Sixteen
>> Chapter Seventeen
>> Chapter Eighteen
>> Chapter Nineteen
>> Chapter Twenty
>> Chapter Twenty One
>> Chapter Twenty Two
>> Chapter Twenty Three
>> Chapter Twenty Four
>> Chapter Twenty Five
>> Chapter Twenty Six
>> Chapter Twenty Seven
>> Chapter Twenty Eight