Fic: We Make War That We May Live In Peace [TW/DW]
This is probably the fic that nearly wasn't. Thanks to blackbird_song , not only for a stellar beta, but also for remembering it long after I'd forgotten it.
Ianto and the Doctor, and Torchwood.
No warnings, low rating, no pairings (maybe background Jack/Ianto)
“You were at Torchwood. London.”
Ianto doesn’t acknowledge the words. The Doctor has materialised the TARDIS on the Plass, taken the lift down, greeted Jack like an old friend rather than someone he’d cast by the wayside, and been absolutely fascinated by the living, breathing pterodactyl. Basically, he’s just pissed Ianto right off in pretty much every way imaginable.
“And… you kept a Cyberman in the basement here.” Well, now he’s done everything imaginable. The sound of steps behind him suggests that the Doctor is moving closer. Ianto’s hands grip tighter on the coffee machine.
“Which suggests, frankly, that you fit right in at Torchwood. Playing around with things so far beyond your comprehension that you can rip the entire space/time thingamajig up without blinking. Not to mention, you know, your planet.”
Ianto suspects that the Doctor is angry with him about that. The tone is harsh and uncompromising, and reminds Ianto that the man behind him is capable of destroying the planet in a fit of pique. Which is petty, really. It’s not his planet to destroy. And Ianto resents being his cleanup boy. Jack, at least, asks nicely.
“So… when Jack says that he’s rebuilt Torchwood as something, actually, you know, useful and good and not likely to stick probes in unpleasant places - well, knowing Jack, they’d probably enjoy that - I half believed him. And then you were here. So, you could say that I’m slightly confused. Now, don’t get me wrong - I normally like that. Keeps me on my toes, you know, a bit of the unknown. Unknown’s a nice little change when you can see all that ever was and all that will be. Sort of. Barring accidents and unexpected queues. But there are some things that you don’t mess with. And having you - ” and the pronoun was thrown at him, as if he were the worst thing in the world, “-sat here, on top of this Rift? With that manipulator sat right there that you can play with any time you like? That makes me edgy. And I don’t like edgy.”
Ianto notes that for someone who doesn’t like edgy, he’s doing a good impression of it.
“What were you going to do with a Cyberman, Ianto Jones? World domination? Or just study it, to better prepare yourself for next time. That’s what Torchwood does, right?” Scathing, now. The Doctor definitely doesn’t like Torchwood. For Ianto, at least, the feeling’s mutual.
“I was trying to save her.” He doesn’t want to say that much, really, but the thought of Lisa being… studied. Like…
“Why?”
Because I loved her. But Ianto suspects that the Doctor wouldn’t understand that. Loving someone heart, mind and soul and doing everything in your power to save them. If the Doctor had ever loved anyone that much, the universe would have been torn to shreds by it. “Because you destroyed her,” he says simply. Having people he loves fucked up by the Doctor seems to be a constant in life.
“Torchwood destroyed her.” He’s sounding paternal now, like he’s decided that Ianto is a small child that needs things explained in words of one syllable. And pictures. “I wasn’t in time to save her. I couldn’t.”
Mournful, that last bit.
Ianto’s mouth twists, unseen. He was saved. Some days, he’s still trying to figure out if that’s a good thing. He’d not had time to think, with Lisa. Everything had been about her, and looking after her, and keeping her hidden. He’d had to sedate her to go to her funeral, had to rush away from her still-shocked parents to get back to her. Had spent hours and days getting her into the Hub, past Jack. And Jack… had been a betrayal of Lisa as surely as Lisa had been a betrayal of Jack.
“You could’ve run.”
Ianto whips around, staring down the Doctor, looking at him for the first time, one part of his mind clinically noting that this was a really fucking stupid idea. “Someone has to pick up the pieces.” London. Lisa. Jack. It was all he had, was Torchwood, and this alien waltzes in and out of them all like he isn’t even capable of caring. “How do you just walk away…?” How can you not care? And can I have some?
He’s tired, and worn, but he doesn’t back down from the challenging stare. For one terrible moment Ianto Jones holds his ground against a Time Lord; the Time Lord backs down.
“Because I can’t stay,” the Doctor says. “Little pinpricks of time that can never be anything more. Nudge the balance, let it settle on its own, but never stay to see the aftermath. I don’t get to stick around. I have to leave, every single time.” He stares at Ianto for a long moment, searching for something. Maybe it’s something he saw in Jack, once. Maybe it’s just something he sees in everyone but him. “You are so very human, Ianto Jones,” he says, and there’s an air of wonder to it, as if being fixed to a time and place were the most amazing thing he’s ever seen. “I was human, once. Didn’t stick. Maybe you’re all just more tenacious about it. It’s your best and your worst, that.”
For a moment, his words hang in the air; not demanding anything but quiet acceptance. Ianto can do quiet acceptance, has made a life’s work out of it. They meet, eye to eye, but there’s no challenge in it this time, just two people who have lost too much, looking at each other. Maybe they see a reflection of themselves; maybe one is too far removed from the human experience to even do that. There are things that Ianto Jones doesn’t know, after all.
Then the Doctor grins, an abrupt change of mood that makes Ianto’s head spin. “You’re so complicated, you lot. Little simple lives that get more complicated the closer you look. I like that about you. D’you do tea as well? I’m gasping for a cuppa. Saved the world on a cuppa once, you know.”
Ianto does - he was there, scrambling around in Torchwood Tower - but he lets the Doctor tell him about it anyway.
Ianto and the Doctor, and Torchwood.
No warnings, low rating, no pairings (maybe background Jack/Ianto)
“You were at Torchwood. London.”
Ianto doesn’t acknowledge the words. The Doctor has materialised the TARDIS on the Plass, taken the lift down, greeted Jack like an old friend rather than someone he’d cast by the wayside, and been absolutely fascinated by the living, breathing pterodactyl. Basically, he’s just pissed Ianto right off in pretty much every way imaginable.
“And… you kept a Cyberman in the basement here.” Well, now he’s done everything imaginable. The sound of steps behind him suggests that the Doctor is moving closer. Ianto’s hands grip tighter on the coffee machine.
“Which suggests, frankly, that you fit right in at Torchwood. Playing around with things so far beyond your comprehension that you can rip the entire space/time thingamajig up without blinking. Not to mention, you know, your planet.”
Ianto suspects that the Doctor is angry with him about that. The tone is harsh and uncompromising, and reminds Ianto that the man behind him is capable of destroying the planet in a fit of pique. Which is petty, really. It’s not his planet to destroy. And Ianto resents being his cleanup boy. Jack, at least, asks nicely.
“So… when Jack says that he’s rebuilt Torchwood as something, actually, you know, useful and good and not likely to stick probes in unpleasant places - well, knowing Jack, they’d probably enjoy that - I half believed him. And then you were here. So, you could say that I’m slightly confused. Now, don’t get me wrong - I normally like that. Keeps me on my toes, you know, a bit of the unknown. Unknown’s a nice little change when you can see all that ever was and all that will be. Sort of. Barring accidents and unexpected queues. But there are some things that you don’t mess with. And having you - ” and the pronoun was thrown at him, as if he were the worst thing in the world, “-sat here, on top of this Rift? With that manipulator sat right there that you can play with any time you like? That makes me edgy. And I don’t like edgy.”
Ianto notes that for someone who doesn’t like edgy, he’s doing a good impression of it.
“What were you going to do with a Cyberman, Ianto Jones? World domination? Or just study it, to better prepare yourself for next time. That’s what Torchwood does, right?” Scathing, now. The Doctor definitely doesn’t like Torchwood. For Ianto, at least, the feeling’s mutual.
“I was trying to save her.” He doesn’t want to say that much, really, but the thought of Lisa being… studied. Like…
“Why?”
Because I loved her. But Ianto suspects that the Doctor wouldn’t understand that. Loving someone heart, mind and soul and doing everything in your power to save them. If the Doctor had ever loved anyone that much, the universe would have been torn to shreds by it. “Because you destroyed her,” he says simply. Having people he loves fucked up by the Doctor seems to be a constant in life.
“Torchwood destroyed her.” He’s sounding paternal now, like he’s decided that Ianto is a small child that needs things explained in words of one syllable. And pictures. “I wasn’t in time to save her. I couldn’t.”
Mournful, that last bit.
Ianto’s mouth twists, unseen. He was saved. Some days, he’s still trying to figure out if that’s a good thing. He’d not had time to think, with Lisa. Everything had been about her, and looking after her, and keeping her hidden. He’d had to sedate her to go to her funeral, had to rush away from her still-shocked parents to get back to her. Had spent hours and days getting her into the Hub, past Jack. And Jack… had been a betrayal of Lisa as surely as Lisa had been a betrayal of Jack.
“You could’ve run.”
Ianto whips around, staring down the Doctor, looking at him for the first time, one part of his mind clinically noting that this was a really fucking stupid idea. “Someone has to pick up the pieces.” London. Lisa. Jack. It was all he had, was Torchwood, and this alien waltzes in and out of them all like he isn’t even capable of caring. “How do you just walk away…?” How can you not care? And can I have some?
He’s tired, and worn, but he doesn’t back down from the challenging stare. For one terrible moment Ianto Jones holds his ground against a Time Lord; the Time Lord backs down.
“Because I can’t stay,” the Doctor says. “Little pinpricks of time that can never be anything more. Nudge the balance, let it settle on its own, but never stay to see the aftermath. I don’t get to stick around. I have to leave, every single time.” He stares at Ianto for a long moment, searching for something. Maybe it’s something he saw in Jack, once. Maybe it’s just something he sees in everyone but him. “You are so very human, Ianto Jones,” he says, and there’s an air of wonder to it, as if being fixed to a time and place were the most amazing thing he’s ever seen. “I was human, once. Didn’t stick. Maybe you’re all just more tenacious about it. It’s your best and your worst, that.”
For a moment, his words hang in the air; not demanding anything but quiet acceptance. Ianto can do quiet acceptance, has made a life’s work out of it. They meet, eye to eye, but there’s no challenge in it this time, just two people who have lost too much, looking at each other. Maybe they see a reflection of themselves; maybe one is too far removed from the human experience to even do that. There are things that Ianto Jones doesn’t know, after all.
Then the Doctor grins, an abrupt change of mood that makes Ianto’s head spin. “You’re so complicated, you lot. Little simple lives that get more complicated the closer you look. I like that about you. D’you do tea as well? I’m gasping for a cuppa. Saved the world on a cuppa once, you know.”
Ianto does - he was there, scrambling around in Torchwood Tower - but he lets the Doctor tell him about it anyway.