Fic: The Dusk of a Summer Night, Part Seven
Title: The Dusk of a Summer Night, Part Seven (Being the Third Story in The Seasons Alternate Reality 'Verse)
Rating: R for this chapter (NC-17 overall)
Warnings: Angst, descriptions of violence
Spoilers: None for the show, a complete AU
Pairings: Jack/Ianto
Disclaimer: Torchwood and all its wonderfulness belong to the Mighty Beeb and He Who Must Not Be Named. No infringement, only worship intended!
Summary: Jack and Ianto meet in London to celebrate the coronation of Queen Elizabeth II. They're happy to be together again, little knowing that the events of one night may change their lives forever…
Notes: Jack returns home and finds that while nothing is different, everything has changed... Earlier stories at the Season's Verse Org Post. Thanks to the lovely and talented for my banner and thanks always and forever to my amazing beta and wonderful friend for all the help and support; any mistakes are mine. I hope you enjoy! Comments are like uppers and make me post faster! :)
.
Part Seven
Jack spent the first part of the train ride back to Rhosneigr in a fitful doze. He hadn't wanted to leave Ianto but he had no choice unless he wanted a visit from the RAF Police. He'd stayed until the last possible moment, seeing Ianto settled in his new bed out of the Critical Care Unit before he said his farewells and rushed to the station. Once he was settled on the train, he'd tried to catch up on some much needed sleep but his mind conspired to keep him from rest. Every time he closed his eyes, he could see Ianto's attack. In one dream, the airmen who beat his lover unconscious were his students whom he'd lingered in the pub with on Coronation Day. He could see Jenkins and Mason holding Ianto's arms while Graham and Anderson took turns battering his face and torso with brutal punches.
Jack woke with start and rubbed his face to clear the visions from his mind. He leant his head against the window of the train and watched the scenery speeding by. He sighed. He knew his dreams were just that - dreams. Even if they didn't have a rock solid alibi of being with Jack while Ianto was beaten, there was no way any of those boys would have participated in a cowardly attack of four on one. Graham, especially, would have had no part in it. But the thought that someone he'd counted as his brother, men who he would have risked his life for without a second's hesitation had ganged up on his lover simply for being his lover made him physically ill.
The trolley came by and Jack purchased a cup of tea and a package of biscuits, hoping to settle his stomach with a little food. He munched morosely, looking out the window for the rest of the journey, lost in his thoughts.
When he arrived home late that night, Jack was greeted by an enthusiastic set of pups and an otherwise empty house. After he'd loved on the dogs for a while, he gave them their supper and ushered them into the garden, bringing along a large brandy for himself. He sat in one of the chairs under the trees with his drink, trying not to look over at the empty seat next to him. In just a few short weeks, that chair was supposed to have become Ianto's. Now, Jack didn't know when he could hope for that to happen.
He sighed sadly, prompting Radhi to nuzzle his hand as she whimpered softly.
"It's okay, girl. He'll be here, not as soon as we hoped, but he'll be here." He took a deep drink of his brandy. "He'll be here," he repeated in a whisper and sent up a silent prayer for his lover.
~ * ~ *~ *~ * ~
Jack's first few days back at work were busy enough to keep him from dwelling on things. He was so exhausted when he got home at night, he only had time to dash off a quick letter to Ianto before falling into a troubled sleep. It wasn't until Thursday when he was heading for the mess for lunch, his nose buried in a report as he walked along with his secretary, that it all hit him again.
"Captain," she murmured, tugging at his elbow.
"Hmm?" Jack glanced up just in time to avoid crashing into a group of airmen milling about the entrance to the mess. "Thanks, Nancy. What's all this?" he asked, stopping quickly.
"Cadet tour," Nancy explained. "I take it you didn't see the memo."
"Must have mislaid it," Jack said.
He glanced over the fresh-faced cadets as they started to filter through the door, eager for some food. Suddenly, thoughts of Ianto filled his head and his eyes narrowed as he started scanning the group, looking for anyone who looked as if they'd been in a fight. He found nothing, of course, but he kept looking even as he berated himself for being foolish. It had been over a week since the attack, the odds of Ianto's assailant still sporting a black eye or a taped nose were slim, and the odds of him ending up on Jack's base even slimmer, but still he looked.
That moment stayed with him all afternoon. He finally threw his pen on the desk, giving up any pretence of working, and leant back in his chair. His eyes wandered over the pictures on his filing cabinet, over the faces of the men he'd known and fought with during the war. His eyes lighted on Michael and a gentle smile spread over his face.
"You'd like him, angel," Jack whispered. "He has a strength in him that I envy. He's a lot like you in that way… maybe it's a Welsh thing." He chuckled softly and then sobered. "What am I gonna do, Michael? Those boys… trust, respect, courage, brotherhood - they're supposed to represent what's best in us. I don't have to tell you how proud I've been of every single man who's passed through this base. But now?" Jack sighed and dropped his head into his hands. "I look at them and I think… 'Maybe it was him'."
Jack didn't know how long he sat there, but the shadows had lengthened considerably when he finally rose from the chair. He rubbed at his sore neck for a moment and then gathered up his belongings. Once he was home, he let the dogs out the back garden gate and herded them down to the shore. He found a comfortable patch of sand while the boys launched themselves into the water and Radhi contented herself with running along the beach, pausing now and then to dig in the sand.
He wrapped his arms around his knees and gazed sadly out at the water. This was his favourite time, something about the way the sun set over the water, burnishing everything with its golden-orange light always made him catch his breath. But now, every twilight was tainted by the memory of the sun setting behind Ianto as he stepped out of the pub and walked into the dusk, alone. Tears pressed at the back of Jack's throat. He let out a choked sob and rested his forehead on his knees as he finally let himself cry. When Jack looked up again, he found that the sun was gone and he was surrounded by the dogs.
"Time to go home, eh?" he asked in a scratchy voice as he wiped his face.
Rémy nudged his arm with a wet nose in response. Jack stood up and gave each dog a pat on the head as he started back to the house. He got everyone dried off and settled for the night and walked slowly up to his bedroom alone, trying in vain not to dwell on how many more lonely nights would go by before Ianto was with him again.
~ * ~ *~ *~ * ~
It was more than a week later before Jack had any news from his lover. When he tore into the letter that he found in the post after another interminable day on base, Jack understood the delay. His stubborn lover had very clearly written the letter himself - with his left hand. Jack felt a smile creep across his face for the first time in days as he deciphered the letter. According to the additional note Taran had included in his own immaculate script, Ianto had received plenty of offers from his family to write the letter for him as he dictated, but he'd refused and insisted on doing it himself. Taran also gave Jack a few more details about Ianto's recovery, summarising his last few days in hospital and his trip back to Cardiff. Jack was grateful for the information since Ianto had apparently thought that 'I'm feeling much better' covered it all.
Jack read the letter three or four times as he stood on the front step and at least twice more after he finally made it into the house. It sounded like Ianto really was 'feeling much better' and was starting to chafe at his mum's doting care. He asked after the dogs and the house and Jack's job, asked if Jack would be able to make a trip down to see him, went into great detail about how much he missed Jack, and so on and so forth, but nowhere did he mention their plans for the move. Jack frowned and read through the letter one more time.
He sighed and let his head fall back on the sofa. Out of habit, his hand found the soft spot between Radhi's ears when she curled up next to him and he rubbed her head as he mused on Ianto's letter. The more he thought about it, the more it worried him. Ianto didn't usually shy away from anything. His directness was one of the first things Jack had noticed and appreciated about Ianto. Jack's thoughts wandered to his own difficulties since he'd gotten back to the base. He still caught himself wondering if any of the men he worked with and taught all day long were capable of the brutality that had been inflicted on his lover. He found that he now loathed putting on service dress. His day to day flying gear didn't bother him, but that full uniform - it made his skin crawl to even think about it.
He started to wonder if Ianto felt the same way.
~ * ~ *~ *~ * ~
Jack managed to last another week on base before he acknowledged that his situation was rapidly approaching intolerable. He wasn't sleeping, he could barely stomach any food, and he couldn't stand to be around the other airmen. The worst part was that his classes were suffering right along with him. He had no patience with the men, he was snappish and sarcastic and he knew he was doing more harm than good going to work every day.
On the last Friday in June, he made up his mind. He spent his morning in classes, his afternoon in the air and was surprised to find he'd had a good day with his students for the first time since his return from London. After he'd finished with the sprogs, he spent a few hours in his office, returning a few phone calls, going through his inbox, tidying things up a bit. Finally, he pushed his chair back from the desk and stood up, knowing that he couldn't put it off any longer. He left his office and walked down the hall a short way until he reached his CO's suite. He knocked softly and then opened the door.
"Good afternoon, Captain Harkness." Palmer's secretary greeted him with her usual smile from her big desk. She was a tiny thing and usually Jack made some joke about her needing a set of steps to get into her chair, but today he just got to the point.
"Hi, Deborah. Does he have a moment?"
"I think so, let me just check." Deborah slid from her chair, her height hardly changing as she stood up to knock on the inner door behind her. After a brief, quiet exchange, Deborah turned and smiled at Jack again, opening the door fully. "Go right on in, Captain."
Jack murmured a thanks as he passed Deborah and nodded a greeting at Palmer as he took a seat in the chair opposite the CO's desk.
"Jack, it's good to see you. I've been meaning to check in with you."
Jack grimaced. "How many complaints have you gotten?" he asked ruefully.
"Oh, not as many as you probably think," Palmer said with a grin. He let it fade after a second and then leant his elbows on his desk, looking intently at Jack. "What seems to be the trouble, m'boy?"
Jack let out a sad sigh. "I can't… I need your help, Stephen."
TBC in Part Eight…
.
Rating: R for this chapter (NC-17 overall)
Warnings: Angst, descriptions of violence
Spoilers: None for the show, a complete AU
Pairings: Jack/Ianto
Disclaimer: Torchwood and all its wonderfulness belong to the Mighty Beeb and He Who Must Not Be Named. No infringement, only worship intended!
Summary: Jack and Ianto meet in London to celebrate the coronation of Queen Elizabeth II. They're happy to be together again, little knowing that the events of one night may change their lives forever…
Notes: Jack returns home and finds that while nothing is different, everything has changed... Earlier stories at the Season's Verse Org Post. Thanks to the lovely and talented for my banner and thanks always and forever to my amazing beta and wonderful friend for all the help and support; any mistakes are mine. I hope you enjoy! Comments are like uppers and make me post faster! :)
.
Part Seven
Jack spent the first part of the train ride back to Rhosneigr in a fitful doze. He hadn't wanted to leave Ianto but he had no choice unless he wanted a visit from the RAF Police. He'd stayed until the last possible moment, seeing Ianto settled in his new bed out of the Critical Care Unit before he said his farewells and rushed to the station. Once he was settled on the train, he'd tried to catch up on some much needed sleep but his mind conspired to keep him from rest. Every time he closed his eyes, he could see Ianto's attack. In one dream, the airmen who beat his lover unconscious were his students whom he'd lingered in the pub with on Coronation Day. He could see Jenkins and Mason holding Ianto's arms while Graham and Anderson took turns battering his face and torso with brutal punches.
Jack woke with start and rubbed his face to clear the visions from his mind. He leant his head against the window of the train and watched the scenery speeding by. He sighed. He knew his dreams were just that - dreams. Even if they didn't have a rock solid alibi of being with Jack while Ianto was beaten, there was no way any of those boys would have participated in a cowardly attack of four on one. Graham, especially, would have had no part in it. But the thought that someone he'd counted as his brother, men who he would have risked his life for without a second's hesitation had ganged up on his lover simply for being his lover made him physically ill.
The trolley came by and Jack purchased a cup of tea and a package of biscuits, hoping to settle his stomach with a little food. He munched morosely, looking out the window for the rest of the journey, lost in his thoughts.
When he arrived home late that night, Jack was greeted by an enthusiastic set of pups and an otherwise empty house. After he'd loved on the dogs for a while, he gave them their supper and ushered them into the garden, bringing along a large brandy for himself. He sat in one of the chairs under the trees with his drink, trying not to look over at the empty seat next to him. In just a few short weeks, that chair was supposed to have become Ianto's. Now, Jack didn't know when he could hope for that to happen.
He sighed sadly, prompting Radhi to nuzzle his hand as she whimpered softly.
"It's okay, girl. He'll be here, not as soon as we hoped, but he'll be here." He took a deep drink of his brandy. "He'll be here," he repeated in a whisper and sent up a silent prayer for his lover.
~ * ~ *~ *~ * ~
Jack's first few days back at work were busy enough to keep him from dwelling on things. He was so exhausted when he got home at night, he only had time to dash off a quick letter to Ianto before falling into a troubled sleep. It wasn't until Thursday when he was heading for the mess for lunch, his nose buried in a report as he walked along with his secretary, that it all hit him again.
"Captain," she murmured, tugging at his elbow.
"Hmm?" Jack glanced up just in time to avoid crashing into a group of airmen milling about the entrance to the mess. "Thanks, Nancy. What's all this?" he asked, stopping quickly.
"Cadet tour," Nancy explained. "I take it you didn't see the memo."
"Must have mislaid it," Jack said.
He glanced over the fresh-faced cadets as they started to filter through the door, eager for some food. Suddenly, thoughts of Ianto filled his head and his eyes narrowed as he started scanning the group, looking for anyone who looked as if they'd been in a fight. He found nothing, of course, but he kept looking even as he berated himself for being foolish. It had been over a week since the attack, the odds of Ianto's assailant still sporting a black eye or a taped nose were slim, and the odds of him ending up on Jack's base even slimmer, but still he looked.
That moment stayed with him all afternoon. He finally threw his pen on the desk, giving up any pretence of working, and leant back in his chair. His eyes wandered over the pictures on his filing cabinet, over the faces of the men he'd known and fought with during the war. His eyes lighted on Michael and a gentle smile spread over his face.
"You'd like him, angel," Jack whispered. "He has a strength in him that I envy. He's a lot like you in that way… maybe it's a Welsh thing." He chuckled softly and then sobered. "What am I gonna do, Michael? Those boys… trust, respect, courage, brotherhood - they're supposed to represent what's best in us. I don't have to tell you how proud I've been of every single man who's passed through this base. But now?" Jack sighed and dropped his head into his hands. "I look at them and I think… 'Maybe it was him'."
Jack didn't know how long he sat there, but the shadows had lengthened considerably when he finally rose from the chair. He rubbed at his sore neck for a moment and then gathered up his belongings. Once he was home, he let the dogs out the back garden gate and herded them down to the shore. He found a comfortable patch of sand while the boys launched themselves into the water and Radhi contented herself with running along the beach, pausing now and then to dig in the sand.
He wrapped his arms around his knees and gazed sadly out at the water. This was his favourite time, something about the way the sun set over the water, burnishing everything with its golden-orange light always made him catch his breath. But now, every twilight was tainted by the memory of the sun setting behind Ianto as he stepped out of the pub and walked into the dusk, alone. Tears pressed at the back of Jack's throat. He let out a choked sob and rested his forehead on his knees as he finally let himself cry. When Jack looked up again, he found that the sun was gone and he was surrounded by the dogs.
"Time to go home, eh?" he asked in a scratchy voice as he wiped his face.
Rémy nudged his arm with a wet nose in response. Jack stood up and gave each dog a pat on the head as he started back to the house. He got everyone dried off and settled for the night and walked slowly up to his bedroom alone, trying in vain not to dwell on how many more lonely nights would go by before Ianto was with him again.
~ * ~ *~ *~ * ~
It was more than a week later before Jack had any news from his lover. When he tore into the letter that he found in the post after another interminable day on base, Jack understood the delay. His stubborn lover had very clearly written the letter himself - with his left hand. Jack felt a smile creep across his face for the first time in days as he deciphered the letter. According to the additional note Taran had included in his own immaculate script, Ianto had received plenty of offers from his family to write the letter for him as he dictated, but he'd refused and insisted on doing it himself. Taran also gave Jack a few more details about Ianto's recovery, summarising his last few days in hospital and his trip back to Cardiff. Jack was grateful for the information since Ianto had apparently thought that 'I'm feeling much better' covered it all.
Jack read the letter three or four times as he stood on the front step and at least twice more after he finally made it into the house. It sounded like Ianto really was 'feeling much better' and was starting to chafe at his mum's doting care. He asked after the dogs and the house and Jack's job, asked if Jack would be able to make a trip down to see him, went into great detail about how much he missed Jack, and so on and so forth, but nowhere did he mention their plans for the move. Jack frowned and read through the letter one more time.
He sighed and let his head fall back on the sofa. Out of habit, his hand found the soft spot between Radhi's ears when she curled up next to him and he rubbed her head as he mused on Ianto's letter. The more he thought about it, the more it worried him. Ianto didn't usually shy away from anything. His directness was one of the first things Jack had noticed and appreciated about Ianto. Jack's thoughts wandered to his own difficulties since he'd gotten back to the base. He still caught himself wondering if any of the men he worked with and taught all day long were capable of the brutality that had been inflicted on his lover. He found that he now loathed putting on service dress. His day to day flying gear didn't bother him, but that full uniform - it made his skin crawl to even think about it.
He started to wonder if Ianto felt the same way.
~ * ~ *~ *~ * ~
Jack managed to last another week on base before he acknowledged that his situation was rapidly approaching intolerable. He wasn't sleeping, he could barely stomach any food, and he couldn't stand to be around the other airmen. The worst part was that his classes were suffering right along with him. He had no patience with the men, he was snappish and sarcastic and he knew he was doing more harm than good going to work every day.
On the last Friday in June, he made up his mind. He spent his morning in classes, his afternoon in the air and was surprised to find he'd had a good day with his students for the first time since his return from London. After he'd finished with the sprogs, he spent a few hours in his office, returning a few phone calls, going through his inbox, tidying things up a bit. Finally, he pushed his chair back from the desk and stood up, knowing that he couldn't put it off any longer. He left his office and walked down the hall a short way until he reached his CO's suite. He knocked softly and then opened the door.
"Good afternoon, Captain Harkness." Palmer's secretary greeted him with her usual smile from her big desk. She was a tiny thing and usually Jack made some joke about her needing a set of steps to get into her chair, but today he just got to the point.
"Hi, Deborah. Does he have a moment?"
"I think so, let me just check." Deborah slid from her chair, her height hardly changing as she stood up to knock on the inner door behind her. After a brief, quiet exchange, Deborah turned and smiled at Jack again, opening the door fully. "Go right on in, Captain."
Jack murmured a thanks as he passed Deborah and nodded a greeting at Palmer as he took a seat in the chair opposite the CO's desk.
"Jack, it's good to see you. I've been meaning to check in with you."
Jack grimaced. "How many complaints have you gotten?" he asked ruefully.
"Oh, not as many as you probably think," Palmer said with a grin. He let it fade after a second and then leant his elbows on his desk, looking intently at Jack. "What seems to be the trouble, m'boy?"
Jack let out a sad sigh. "I can't… I need your help, Stephen."
TBC in Part Eight…
.