your back's against the wall
Title: Ten Months
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairing: Ianto, Gwen, implied Jack/Ianto
Disclaimer: Don't own anything. Seriously.
Summary: During the Year That Never Was, Gwen and Ianto reflect on their lives in Torchwood, and especially Jack.
Word Count: 1,520
Notes: Had this sitting around, thought I should finally post it. I am writing a sort of deleted scene to it that would be much more heavy on the Ianto/Gwen, much more.. not PG.
”It was sort of like a fairy tale.”
Her voice was soft and quiet. It was mostly so as not to spook anyone else in the safehouse as they were all paranoid and jumpy, and no one could blame them, but Ianto thought he heard a bit of wistfulness in her tone as well. He couldn’t decide if that was due to whatever memory she’d submerged herself in or if it was her white flag, the sign that she’d finally given up hope.
Sometime during the chaos of the first few months that Saxon took over and Toclafane fell from the sky like a plague, Gwen got separated from Rhys. She couldn’t contact him - no one wanted to use the Archangel Network. A select few in the Resistance used radio when needed. Torchwood could too, of course, but no one wanted to reflect on Torchwood’s failure to protect Earth and her people. Most days she got through by reassuring herself that he was okay, that he was safe somewhere and tried not to think about the possibility of that not being true. The rest of the time, when she allowed herself to think the worst, she’d sob and not move from her cot. She’d remember what it felt like when she thought Rhys was dead - when he was dead. In those times Ianto would just hold her until it stopped because there was little else he could do.
She laughed suddenly, a sharp sound in the otherwise quiet room. Ianto turned his head to look at her, eyebrow raised. They were sat on the floor sharing a blanket and trying desperately to pass the time so they didn’t lose their minds. They wanted to help with the Resistance but there was little they could actually do, with the exception of Owen who was carted around with a few other doctors, taking care of injuries and trying to keep as many of those left as healthy as possible. They didn’t mention Tosh anymore, it was too painful to. They’d heard the rumors of Martha Jones, but Ianto knew for a fact that there was no such gun, and he couldn’t decided if Martha had completely lost it or if she was absolutely brilliant for making Saxon fear a lie.
“It was a really, really fucked up fairy tale, but tales with fairies nonetheless.” Ianto was starting to think she’d gone mad.
“Gwen…?” he started, voice dangerously low. She turned to look at him finally, a small sigh escaping her lips.
“Jack. Everything was so… normal before him. And then he drops into my life, all dashing and mysterious and larger than life, and it was like stepping into Oz.”
Ianto grinned. “You’re mixing your metaphors.”
“Oh stuff it.” She smiled but it faded quickly, turning away from him and looking out at nothing in particular. “It was though, Jack and Torchwood. So bloody unreal and amazing.” Her voice trailed off, lost in thought. Ianto wasn’t sure if that was all she was going to say so he just sat there and didn’t disturb the silence that had settled. After a few moments that could have been lifetimes or seconds - Ianto had stopped keeping track of time long ago, his stopwatch abandoned and forgotten in the Hub - Gwen spoke up again. She turned to face him, though her voice still sounded far away.
“I liked my life. I had Rhys, and friends, and a nice flat, a decent job.. It wasn’t the most glamorous job ever, but I was doing something good. I could read people, I could help. And Rhys…” she paused a moment, her eyes becoming unfocused as she slipped into more memories. “He was so proud of me. Even when I felt terrible, even when I came home smelling of beer after breaking up a fight in a pub, he was proud of me. I never knew what I wanted to do with my life; did I ever tell you that? Took the stupidest, most random classes at Uni. I just sort of fell in to the police thing. But it was good. I was happy and safe and could take care of myself if I ever really needed to - completely unaware of all this.
“And then there was Jack and a metal glove that could bring people back to life.” Her eyes refocused and she turned away from him. “I didn’t want to believe it at first but how can you turn away once you’ve seen something like that? Jack completely interrupted my life, took me out of my comfort zone and threw me into danger.
“And then he saved my life.” She closed her eyes and gripped the blanket a little tighter. “Down the rabbit hole, it was the most insane dream like world ever, and he saved me from the edge of oblivion. Worst kind of fucked up Knight in Shining Armor I’ve ever seen, really.”
Despite himself, Ianto couldn’t help but laugh at that. For all Jack’s severe issues he was a bit of a post-modern knight, with his hero complex and his immortality acting as his shield. He shook his head of the thought and the silence grew between them again. It was almost stifling, the waiting and knowing they couldn’t possibly survive much longer. It was two months until the countdown, and once Saxon declared war on the rest of the universe they wouldn’t survive any attacks. Ianto wondered if maybe locking and sealing up the Hub to protect that technology and information from Saxon hadn’t been a good idea. At least whoever was left could’ve used what they had to fight.
Ianto was brought out of his thoughts by Gwen’s hand curling into his, tugging a little to get his attention. He hadn’t realized he’d completely spaced out.
“I don’t regret it, though. I hate that it turned out like this but… Not for a second do I regret it.” She smiled softly at him and squeezed his hand. “So, your turn. What was Jack like for you? What’s your crazy analogy? Before he’d fucked off and managed to get himself right in the middle of this whole mess, I mean.”
He stayed quiet, biting his lip in thought, lost in so many memories of Jack that he usually tried to push to the furthest of his mind. He’d been quiet for long enough that he thought Gwen might’ve lost interest, moved on to worry about Rhys again or consider grabbing a radio to make sure Owen was alright. He was proved wrong by the tug on his hand again. He exhaled slowly and let everything spill out of him.
“A drug.” She looked at him with a puzzled expression, silently asking him to continue and explain. He attempted, though he wasn’t sure any of it would make sense outside of his own head. “After I lost Lisa.. I had nothing.” He felt Gwen stiffen a little next to him and he sighed, shaking his head. “I know I lost her long before I was willing to admit, but the longer I was in denial the worse it was after I’d lost her completely. She was my everything, Gwen. It was like the world had ended.” He closed his eyes, painful memories surging up that he’d rather not reflect on, but he thought he owed Gwen this, at least.
“And then there was Jack, forgiving me and letting me back in. It was a distraction at first, I guess, something to keep my mind off everything. It was unhealthy and possibly dangerous, like getting too close to a flame, but I needed it. I needed him.” He paused for a moment and Gwen squeezed his hand. “And then he left and it was like I couldn’t breathe. It’s been months, and I still don’t know if I can breathe. I don’t know if I’m in withdrawal or recovery. I don’t know if I still desperately need him or if I can let go. I don’t know if I’m going to crash and burn at any second or if I’m actually healing.”
Gwen let go of his hand and wrapped her arm around his shoulders instead, pulling him closer. He went willingly, resting his head on her shoulder and escaping into the silence between them again. She threaded her fingers in his hair and kissed the top of his head, at a loss at what else to do. Finally, she spoke quietly. “Do you regret it?”
After a few moments of contemplation, he answered. “No.”
She nodded and let the silence stretch between them again. It was getting dark out and they could hear people moving about the safehouse, trying not to attract attention but seeking out comfort all the same. “We’re alive.” Gwen said softly. “We’ve lost so much, but we’re alive. And that has nothing to do with Jack.” He nodded at her determined tone, something he hadn’t heard in months. Maybe she hadn’t given up after all. They were alive, and even though things were bad, really bad, he felt calm. Like he knew it was all going to be fine.
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairing: Ianto, Gwen, implied Jack/Ianto
Disclaimer: Don't own anything. Seriously.
Summary: During the Year That Never Was, Gwen and Ianto reflect on their lives in Torchwood, and especially Jack.
Word Count: 1,520
Notes: Had this sitting around, thought I should finally post it. I am writing a sort of deleted scene to it that would be much more heavy on the Ianto/Gwen, much more.. not PG.
”It was sort of like a fairy tale.”
Her voice was soft and quiet. It was mostly so as not to spook anyone else in the safehouse as they were all paranoid and jumpy, and no one could blame them, but Ianto thought he heard a bit of wistfulness in her tone as well. He couldn’t decide if that was due to whatever memory she’d submerged herself in or if it was her white flag, the sign that she’d finally given up hope.
Sometime during the chaos of the first few months that Saxon took over and Toclafane fell from the sky like a plague, Gwen got separated from Rhys. She couldn’t contact him - no one wanted to use the Archangel Network. A select few in the Resistance used radio when needed. Torchwood could too, of course, but no one wanted to reflect on Torchwood’s failure to protect Earth and her people. Most days she got through by reassuring herself that he was okay, that he was safe somewhere and tried not to think about the possibility of that not being true. The rest of the time, when she allowed herself to think the worst, she’d sob and not move from her cot. She’d remember what it felt like when she thought Rhys was dead - when he was dead. In those times Ianto would just hold her until it stopped because there was little else he could do.
She laughed suddenly, a sharp sound in the otherwise quiet room. Ianto turned his head to look at her, eyebrow raised. They were sat on the floor sharing a blanket and trying desperately to pass the time so they didn’t lose their minds. They wanted to help with the Resistance but there was little they could actually do, with the exception of Owen who was carted around with a few other doctors, taking care of injuries and trying to keep as many of those left as healthy as possible. They didn’t mention Tosh anymore, it was too painful to. They’d heard the rumors of Martha Jones, but Ianto knew for a fact that there was no such gun, and he couldn’t decided if Martha had completely lost it or if she was absolutely brilliant for making Saxon fear a lie.
“It was a really, really fucked up fairy tale, but tales with fairies nonetheless.” Ianto was starting to think she’d gone mad.
“Gwen…?” he started, voice dangerously low. She turned to look at him finally, a small sigh escaping her lips.
“Jack. Everything was so… normal before him. And then he drops into my life, all dashing and mysterious and larger than life, and it was like stepping into Oz.”
Ianto grinned. “You’re mixing your metaphors.”
“Oh stuff it.” She smiled but it faded quickly, turning away from him and looking out at nothing in particular. “It was though, Jack and Torchwood. So bloody unreal and amazing.” Her voice trailed off, lost in thought. Ianto wasn’t sure if that was all she was going to say so he just sat there and didn’t disturb the silence that had settled. After a few moments that could have been lifetimes or seconds - Ianto had stopped keeping track of time long ago, his stopwatch abandoned and forgotten in the Hub - Gwen spoke up again. She turned to face him, though her voice still sounded far away.
“I liked my life. I had Rhys, and friends, and a nice flat, a decent job.. It wasn’t the most glamorous job ever, but I was doing something good. I could read people, I could help. And Rhys…” she paused a moment, her eyes becoming unfocused as she slipped into more memories. “He was so proud of me. Even when I felt terrible, even when I came home smelling of beer after breaking up a fight in a pub, he was proud of me. I never knew what I wanted to do with my life; did I ever tell you that? Took the stupidest, most random classes at Uni. I just sort of fell in to the police thing. But it was good. I was happy and safe and could take care of myself if I ever really needed to - completely unaware of all this.
“And then there was Jack and a metal glove that could bring people back to life.” Her eyes refocused and she turned away from him. “I didn’t want to believe it at first but how can you turn away once you’ve seen something like that? Jack completely interrupted my life, took me out of my comfort zone and threw me into danger.
“And then he saved my life.” She closed her eyes and gripped the blanket a little tighter. “Down the rabbit hole, it was the most insane dream like world ever, and he saved me from the edge of oblivion. Worst kind of fucked up Knight in Shining Armor I’ve ever seen, really.”
Despite himself, Ianto couldn’t help but laugh at that. For all Jack’s severe issues he was a bit of a post-modern knight, with his hero complex and his immortality acting as his shield. He shook his head of the thought and the silence grew between them again. It was almost stifling, the waiting and knowing they couldn’t possibly survive much longer. It was two months until the countdown, and once Saxon declared war on the rest of the universe they wouldn’t survive any attacks. Ianto wondered if maybe locking and sealing up the Hub to protect that technology and information from Saxon hadn’t been a good idea. At least whoever was left could’ve used what they had to fight.
Ianto was brought out of his thoughts by Gwen’s hand curling into his, tugging a little to get his attention. He hadn’t realized he’d completely spaced out.
“I don’t regret it, though. I hate that it turned out like this but… Not for a second do I regret it.” She smiled softly at him and squeezed his hand. “So, your turn. What was Jack like for you? What’s your crazy analogy? Before he’d fucked off and managed to get himself right in the middle of this whole mess, I mean.”
He stayed quiet, biting his lip in thought, lost in so many memories of Jack that he usually tried to push to the furthest of his mind. He’d been quiet for long enough that he thought Gwen might’ve lost interest, moved on to worry about Rhys again or consider grabbing a radio to make sure Owen was alright. He was proved wrong by the tug on his hand again. He exhaled slowly and let everything spill out of him.
“A drug.” She looked at him with a puzzled expression, silently asking him to continue and explain. He attempted, though he wasn’t sure any of it would make sense outside of his own head. “After I lost Lisa.. I had nothing.” He felt Gwen stiffen a little next to him and he sighed, shaking his head. “I know I lost her long before I was willing to admit, but the longer I was in denial the worse it was after I’d lost her completely. She was my everything, Gwen. It was like the world had ended.” He closed his eyes, painful memories surging up that he’d rather not reflect on, but he thought he owed Gwen this, at least.
“And then there was Jack, forgiving me and letting me back in. It was a distraction at first, I guess, something to keep my mind off everything. It was unhealthy and possibly dangerous, like getting too close to a flame, but I needed it. I needed him.” He paused for a moment and Gwen squeezed his hand. “And then he left and it was like I couldn’t breathe. It’s been months, and I still don’t know if I can breathe. I don’t know if I’m in withdrawal or recovery. I don’t know if I still desperately need him or if I can let go. I don’t know if I’m going to crash and burn at any second or if I’m actually healing.”
Gwen let go of his hand and wrapped her arm around his shoulders instead, pulling him closer. He went willingly, resting his head on her shoulder and escaping into the silence between them again. She threaded her fingers in his hair and kissed the top of his head, at a loss at what else to do. Finally, she spoke quietly. “Do you regret it?”
After a few moments of contemplation, he answered. “No.”
She nodded and let the silence stretch between them again. It was getting dark out and they could hear people moving about the safehouse, trying not to attract attention but seeking out comfort all the same. “We’re alive.” Gwen said softly. “We’ve lost so much, but we’re alive. And that has nothing to do with Jack.” He nodded at her determined tone, something he hadn’t heard in months. Maybe she hadn’t given up after all. They were alive, and even though things were bad, really bad, he felt calm. Like he knew it was all going to be fine.