Ticking Clocks
Ianto lay in bed, as he had so many nights, and watched the man next to him sleep. It was true that Jack didn’t sleep much, but when he did, it was a thing of beauty. The rhythmic rise and fall of the broad chest, the sleep-heavy limbs, the smile that nearly always graced that handsome face -oh yes, it was beautiful. It wasn’t the patented Harkness grin, all teeth and charisma and varying degrees of sincerity. Nor was it what Ianto referred to as his Jack smile, the private, secret smile that always conveyed genuine pleasure and sincere fondness. No, his sleep smile was just a little quirk of his lips and a look of such peace and happiness that Ianto was always reluctant to pull him out of that contentment. He wondered what made Jack smile like that; what a man like that who had seen so much and done so many things could possibly have left to dream about. He thought that maybe Jack was dreaming about all the many people in his long life that he’d loved and hoped that he was among their number. Ianto Jones also wondered just how long that look of serene happiness on Jack’s face would last. How long would it be before that look faded back into the grimaces and tears of nightmares both real and imagined? How long would it be until he, himself broke Jack’s heart by joining the ever growing list of lovers past?
Thoughts like those kept him awake on nights like these. Ianto shifted to look at the green glow of the digital clock display and imagined he could hear the seconds ticking away. That sound had always been a comfort to him in the past. It was something that could be measured, the passing of time. It could be measured, documented, and filed away. Through invasions, battles, death, life, peace, hope, and everything in between, time just kept ticking away. That perfect constant had always been soothing. But now, now Ianto was conflicted. Every second that passed was one more that they had been together and as whole as any Torchwood operative ever was. It was another opportunity to take that memory and hold it close to his heart, hoping that after all was said and done, Jack would at least remember that he was loved, that he and his team had done great things, that he had been a hero, and that it had all meant something. Every second that passed, and he was another second closer to leaving this all behind, leaving Jack behind.
That was the thing about working for Torchwood. Ianto knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was going to die young. It was a job requirement. He no longer feared his own mortality. He would admit, that he would much rather go out in a blaze of glory than something stupid like a fall in the shower. Though with his frequent shower partner, that could be interesting too. That wasn’t the point. Right. He was being morbid. Strange how with Jack even that line was blurred. Jack. Now he was the point. Because as much as Ianto was expecting his early demise, he was dreading it for those that he left behind. For Jack, who was always, would always be left behind. He wasn’t vain enough to believe that Jack would still remember him in a thousand years, and the Captain would survive for so much longer than that that it boggled the mind. Every time, Jack would be left behind, alone to pick up the pieces. How many times would he have to watch his world fall apart? How many new beginnings would he have to make? How many times would he be able to allow himself to love and lose without killing his spirit?
Time was the enemy when at the end of the day that was all you had.
Jack shifted in his sleep, the arm slung around Ianto’s middle tightening, unconsciously holding him tight. Jack was clinging, as he clung to them all. His team, this time, this life -Jack knew that he would lose them all, and held on all the tighter for it. They would all slip through his fingers, like water, like smoke. Jack made a snuffling sound and buried his face in Ianto’s shoulder while Ianto smiled fondly. Time ticked on, glaring in garish colors or slipping by unawares. Within moments, time is gone, like a wisp of smoke, gone forever. Just like that, the moment was gone, and another. But… just because they couldn’t be returned, didn’t mean that they couldn’t be treasured, that they couldn’t mean something, even if that something wouldn’t survive the test of all eternity.
Sunrise neared and Ianto knew that they would have to get up soon. They would be forced to disengage, separate, and go about the day. Important work, saving the world. Ianto held on tighter.