This Mortal Coil
Title: This Mortal Coil.
Rating: Gish.
Warnings/Spoilers: Captain Jack Harkness. Mention of death.
Characters: Jack/Ianto
Disclaimer: I do not own Torchwood or its characters.
Summary: Ianto knows Jack gets lonely and graveyards inspire memories...Angsty Fluff.
A/N: This came about because of demotu's gorgeous fic ' Blessed are Those' And because qthelights made a comment about how the only gift Ianto ever seems to get Jack in fics is cufflinks…Also because it was a bit of a writing exercise because I’m rubbish at the mo.
A/N 2: Thank you so much to put_that_away my beta for this. She is gorgeous and brilliant and I couldn’t write this without her. Oh and I know nothing about war so please excuse any factual errors…
Jack shifted the weight of his great coat on his shoulders, leaning against the crumbling, grey stone arch and staring out over the crooked grave yard it occupied. The evening sun cast long shadows across the grass, grave stones of various sizes occasionally interrupted by sad bouquets of flowers surrounded the small, quiet church and a single bird sang in the dusk.
Jack took a deep breath and looked up, the setting sun stained the sky pink and the moon hung pale and visible in the warm Cardiff evening.
‘I know you’re here.’
He turned to stare at the shadowy entrance of the church.
Ianto was watching him, hunched against the huge, ornate, dark wood door and he walked out slowly, head down and avoiding Jack’s eyes as he stood next to him.
‘What are you doing here?’
Ianto pushed his hands in his pockets and finally looked across at him. ‘I like it here. It’s quiet.’ He moved his gaze over at the grave stones. ‘Peaceful.’
Jack didn’t reply for a while, looking straight ahead steadfastly and Ianto waited for him.
‘Did you follow me?’
‘No.’ Ianto lied. ‘Why are you here?’
Jack didn’t answer again and Ianto shuffled his feet, inching closer to him as their shadows merged and blurred against the worn concrete path cutting through the grass and leading to the arch.
‘Do you miss him?’ Ianto asked finally.
Jack sighed frustratedly and turned to stare at him.
‘I think he would like it here, but I don’t get to know.’ He shrugged and looked away again. ‘I don’t know where he went.’
Jack forced his voice not to crack as he thought of all the nights he had lain awake and searched his memory for lifeless eyes in dead faces in piles of bodies in charnel houses.
Whole nights lying awake in the dark and searching - searching his memories for any of those faces that might have been his. Anything other than the list of the dead that he had stolen his name from that showed where he had gone.
Where he had ended up.
Where he had been lain to rest.
Where Jack could think of him at peace and mourn a memory without the constant not knowing that was driving him mad.
‘I don’t know.’ He murmured softly. ‘I just…I don’t know…’
Ianto reached for Jack’s hand, his finger tips brushing lightly and retracting just as quickly as Jack’s flinched away.
‘I’m sorry.’ Jack shook his head and took another deep breath, looking out over the graves again, in silence.
People had become a bit like stars to Jack these days, he thought. Shining brightly in the darkness, eyes glowing with the spark life and looking at Ianto it was all he could do not to reach out and touch him. But Ianto was a star and he would shine briefly and illuminate his life but in the end Jack knew he was too far away to properly reach and fated to dim and die.
Ianto was still just standing there and Jack closed his eyes for a second, collecting himself. Ianto was good to him, too good and Jack shouldn’t want to be left alone in the darkness.
He didn’t want to be alone.
‘I have something for you.’
He frowned at Ianto for a second before covering it with a sad grin. ‘Is it my birthday?’
Ianto bowed his head, his hand nervously fiddling in his pocket for a moment before he bought out a black velvet box.
‘I’m not proposing.’ He said quickly, taking Jack’s wide eyed reaction in and smiling softly. ‘I promise.’
‘Okay.’ Jack watched him carefully and Ianto held it out to him.
‘Take it.’
‘What is it?’
Ianto didn’t reply and Jack reached out, curling his hand around the small box, his fingers brushing Ianto’s and he crooked a grin before he took it and opened it slowly.
Inside was a silver medal shaped like a cross. It was made out of swirling, patterned metal and decorated with wings and a crown surrounding a laurel wreath. It hung gently against the velvet background on a navy blue and white, diagonally striped braid.
‘It’s his.’ Ianto said quietly, looking back over the graves as Jack stared at it.
‘What…How…’Jack swallowed and looked at him. ‘When…?’
‘It’s a Distinguished Flying Cross. Awarded to RAF soldiers in World War Two for acts of valour -‘
‘-courage or devotion to duty whilst flying.’ Jack finished under his breath. ‘I know.’
Ianto watched him and Jack stroked his finger over the cold silver, it shone dully in the evening light and looked as if it was awarded just yesterday. The only indication it was over half a century old was the slight tarnish.
‘He was posthumously awarded it.’ Ianto explained, turning back to face Jack. ‘I think he would want you to have it.’
‘Ianto…’
‘He would want you to have it.’ Ianto repeated slowly, gazing steadily at him and pushing his hands back in his pockets as the sky darkened and a breeze shifted through the trees around them.
‘I don’t deserve it.’
‘He was a hero.’ Ianto replied.
‘Yes.’
‘And so are you.’
Jack didn’t say anything and Ianto sighed and moved in front of him. ‘Jack.’ He reached out to cup his cheek and Jack stiffened, closing the box with a stiff click and dropping his hand.
‘I can’t…’
‘Jack, he loved you.’ Ianto breathed. ‘He saved lives and you saved his, I think you deserve it more than anyone.’
Jack shook his head slowly. ‘I didn’t save him.’
‘I think you did.’ Ianto smiled. ‘I’m sure he would agree.’
‘Where did you get it from?’ Jack fingered the box and looked at Ianto from under his eyelashes. ‘Why did you do it?’
Ianto shrugged. ‘I know you miss him.’
‘I miss a lot of people.’
‘I know you get lonely, Jack. And that you miss him. And that it’s the 25th of January.’ Ianto supplied quietly. He shuddered as the temperature dropped and Jack realised he was shivering too. ‘You’re allowed to grieve Jack.’
‘I’m not grieving…’ Jack shook his head. Ianto was staring soulfully at him and he thought about leaning in, grabbing the back of his head and kissing him forcefully. Kissing him and forgetting about anything other than Ianto but he was tired. Suddenly and ferociously tired, he lifted the box back up held it in his palm.
‘He was a good soldier.’
Ianto nodded. ‘Yes. Like you.’ He reached out and wrapped Jack’s hand around the box, his fingers cold against Jack’s and he curled the medal safely back into Jack’s fist, letting his hand linger. ‘It’s yours Jack - His.’ He sighed softly. ‘Both of yours.’
‘Thank you.’ Jack whispered, nodding. He stared at him hard, his eyes glassy and twinkling blue in the now dark night sky, Ianto dipped his head imperceptibly in reply and took his hand back, thrusting it in his pocket.
They both turned back to the graveyard, Jack breathed in deeply and looked up at the sky. A single star had appeared and he grinned sadly, looking at Ianto who was standing in silence, hunched in his coat against the wind. Jack reached out with his free hand and softly placed it in Ianto’s, lacing their fingers together and squeezing gently as they walked slowly out into the night together.
Rating: Gish.
Warnings/Spoilers: Captain Jack Harkness. Mention of death.
Characters: Jack/Ianto
Disclaimer: I do not own Torchwood or its characters.
Summary: Ianto knows Jack gets lonely and graveyards inspire memories...Angsty Fluff.
A/N: This came about because of demotu's gorgeous fic ' Blessed are Those' And because qthelights made a comment about how the only gift Ianto ever seems to get Jack in fics is cufflinks…Also because it was a bit of a writing exercise because I’m rubbish at the mo.
A/N 2: Thank you so much to put_that_away my beta for this. She is gorgeous and brilliant and I couldn’t write this without her. Oh and I know nothing about war so please excuse any factual errors…
Jack shifted the weight of his great coat on his shoulders, leaning against the crumbling, grey stone arch and staring out over the crooked grave yard it occupied. The evening sun cast long shadows across the grass, grave stones of various sizes occasionally interrupted by sad bouquets of flowers surrounded the small, quiet church and a single bird sang in the dusk.
Jack took a deep breath and looked up, the setting sun stained the sky pink and the moon hung pale and visible in the warm Cardiff evening.
‘I know you’re here.’
He turned to stare at the shadowy entrance of the church.
Ianto was watching him, hunched against the huge, ornate, dark wood door and he walked out slowly, head down and avoiding Jack’s eyes as he stood next to him.
‘What are you doing here?’
Ianto pushed his hands in his pockets and finally looked across at him. ‘I like it here. It’s quiet.’ He moved his gaze over at the grave stones. ‘Peaceful.’
Jack didn’t reply for a while, looking straight ahead steadfastly and Ianto waited for him.
‘Did you follow me?’
‘No.’ Ianto lied. ‘Why are you here?’
Jack didn’t answer again and Ianto shuffled his feet, inching closer to him as their shadows merged and blurred against the worn concrete path cutting through the grass and leading to the arch.
‘Do you miss him?’ Ianto asked finally.
Jack sighed frustratedly and turned to stare at him.
‘I think he would like it here, but I don’t get to know.’ He shrugged and looked away again. ‘I don’t know where he went.’
Jack forced his voice not to crack as he thought of all the nights he had lain awake and searched his memory for lifeless eyes in dead faces in piles of bodies in charnel houses.
Whole nights lying awake in the dark and searching - searching his memories for any of those faces that might have been his. Anything other than the list of the dead that he had stolen his name from that showed where he had gone.
Where he had ended up.
Where he had been lain to rest.
Where Jack could think of him at peace and mourn a memory without the constant not knowing that was driving him mad.
‘I don’t know.’ He murmured softly. ‘I just…I don’t know…’
Ianto reached for Jack’s hand, his finger tips brushing lightly and retracting just as quickly as Jack’s flinched away.
‘I’m sorry.’ Jack shook his head and took another deep breath, looking out over the graves again, in silence.
People had become a bit like stars to Jack these days, he thought. Shining brightly in the darkness, eyes glowing with the spark life and looking at Ianto it was all he could do not to reach out and touch him. But Ianto was a star and he would shine briefly and illuminate his life but in the end Jack knew he was too far away to properly reach and fated to dim and die.
Ianto was still just standing there and Jack closed his eyes for a second, collecting himself. Ianto was good to him, too good and Jack shouldn’t want to be left alone in the darkness.
He didn’t want to be alone.
‘I have something for you.’
He frowned at Ianto for a second before covering it with a sad grin. ‘Is it my birthday?’
Ianto bowed his head, his hand nervously fiddling in his pocket for a moment before he bought out a black velvet box.
‘I’m not proposing.’ He said quickly, taking Jack’s wide eyed reaction in and smiling softly. ‘I promise.’
‘Okay.’ Jack watched him carefully and Ianto held it out to him.
‘Take it.’
‘What is it?’
Ianto didn’t reply and Jack reached out, curling his hand around the small box, his fingers brushing Ianto’s and he crooked a grin before he took it and opened it slowly.
Inside was a silver medal shaped like a cross. It was made out of swirling, patterned metal and decorated with wings and a crown surrounding a laurel wreath. It hung gently against the velvet background on a navy blue and white, diagonally striped braid.
‘It’s his.’ Ianto said quietly, looking back over the graves as Jack stared at it.
‘What…How…’Jack swallowed and looked at him. ‘When…?’
‘It’s a Distinguished Flying Cross. Awarded to RAF soldiers in World War Two for acts of valour -‘
‘-courage or devotion to duty whilst flying.’ Jack finished under his breath. ‘I know.’
Ianto watched him and Jack stroked his finger over the cold silver, it shone dully in the evening light and looked as if it was awarded just yesterday. The only indication it was over half a century old was the slight tarnish.
‘He was posthumously awarded it.’ Ianto explained, turning back to face Jack. ‘I think he would want you to have it.’
‘Ianto…’
‘He would want you to have it.’ Ianto repeated slowly, gazing steadily at him and pushing his hands back in his pockets as the sky darkened and a breeze shifted through the trees around them.
‘I don’t deserve it.’
‘He was a hero.’ Ianto replied.
‘Yes.’
‘And so are you.’
Jack didn’t say anything and Ianto sighed and moved in front of him. ‘Jack.’ He reached out to cup his cheek and Jack stiffened, closing the box with a stiff click and dropping his hand.
‘I can’t…’
‘Jack, he loved you.’ Ianto breathed. ‘He saved lives and you saved his, I think you deserve it more than anyone.’
Jack shook his head slowly. ‘I didn’t save him.’
‘I think you did.’ Ianto smiled. ‘I’m sure he would agree.’
‘Where did you get it from?’ Jack fingered the box and looked at Ianto from under his eyelashes. ‘Why did you do it?’
Ianto shrugged. ‘I know you miss him.’
‘I miss a lot of people.’
‘I know you get lonely, Jack. And that you miss him. And that it’s the 25th of January.’ Ianto supplied quietly. He shuddered as the temperature dropped and Jack realised he was shivering too. ‘You’re allowed to grieve Jack.’
‘I’m not grieving…’ Jack shook his head. Ianto was staring soulfully at him and he thought about leaning in, grabbing the back of his head and kissing him forcefully. Kissing him and forgetting about anything other than Ianto but he was tired. Suddenly and ferociously tired, he lifted the box back up held it in his palm.
‘He was a good soldier.’
Ianto nodded. ‘Yes. Like you.’ He reached out and wrapped Jack’s hand around the box, his fingers cold against Jack’s and he curled the medal safely back into Jack’s fist, letting his hand linger. ‘It’s yours Jack - His.’ He sighed softly. ‘Both of yours.’
‘Thank you.’ Jack whispered, nodding. He stared at him hard, his eyes glassy and twinkling blue in the now dark night sky, Ianto dipped his head imperceptibly in reply and took his hand back, thrusting it in his pocket.
They both turned back to the graveyard, Jack breathed in deeply and looked up at the sky. A single star had appeared and he grinned sadly, looking at Ianto who was standing in silence, hunched in his coat against the wind. Jack reached out with his free hand and softly placed it in Ianto’s, lacing their fingers together and squeezing gently as they walked slowly out into the night together.