Turning Point - 42/64
Title: Turning Point
Fandom: Torchwood
Pairings: budding Jack/Ianto, references to past Ianto/Lisa
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: If I was the one who owned Torchwood, you think I'd admit it now?
Spoilers: Some information and events from s1,2. NONE for s3.
Summary: In the aftermath of Lisa's death, Ianto is struggling to cope - and new surprises don't help matters much. Can his friends on the team at Torchwood help him carry on?
Author's Note: Sequel to Guilt.
Thanks to: My beta cazmalfoy, angelzbabe1989 for idea bouncing, and morbid_sparks for cheerleading even when she doesn'tdidn't know what happens.
Previous chapters at master list
Chapter Forty-Two
“We should read it,” Ianto finally said several minutes later. He was fairly sure that reading the reply, whatever it said, was going to be painful, but he knew that he would just keep wondering if they didn’t. At least this way he could get some closure on the subject.
“Are you sure?” Tosh didn’t look particularly convinced.
“We’ll keep thinking about it, otherwise,” Ianto said as calmly as he could. “You know we will. We need to read it, and...”
A thought struck him.
“We need to read it and if he is offering help…” He swallowed. “We need to send a reply thanking him and saying that… the research was ceased due to lack of funding… or something like that.”
He could feel Jack’s hand rubbing supportively across his back, and Ianto unconsciously leant into it.
Tosh bit her lip and scooted forwards in her chair. “I…” She looked back up at him. “You’re definitely sure about this?”
Ianto nodded before he could change his mind. “I’m sure.”
Tosh moved the cursor over the email in the list, hesitating before clicking.
Ianto could feel his heart racing, and willed Tosh to just get on with it. Now that he’d made the decision, he wanted this to be over with.
Even though, logically, he knew that the time between Tosh’s click of the mouse and the email opening could only be a fraction of a second, the nerves racing around his body made it feel like hours.
He skipped over the salutations, and barely skimmed across the apologies and reasons why it had taken so long for him to get back to them; they weren’t what he was really interested in, they had even less bearing on the situation than his response to their request.
“‘If you could send me additional information I would be happy to…’” he read out in an unsteady voice, trailing off as the lump in his throat grew too large to force the air past to speak.
He tried to swallow and couldn’t.
“Breathe, Ianto,” Jack said behind him, not sounding particularly steady himself. The hand, which had stilled, resumed its sweeps across Ianto’s back. “Breathe for me.”
Ianto closed his eyes and tried to focus on Jack’s voice as he murmured encouragements. He dragged in a deep heaving breath, the air rushing into his burning lungs.
Belatedly, he realised that Jack was all but holding him upright, his own legs evidently having ceased to do so as his brain swirled madly around the fact that the Japanese expert had actually agreed.
If the timing had been right; if Dr Tanizaki had been able to get back to them immediately; if Lisa’s deterioration had just been that bit slower…
“You can’t let yourself think like that, you’ll drive yourself crazy with what ifs,” Jack told him, and Ianto realised that he must have been muttering his thoughts aloud.
Ianto sighed, getting his legs under him properly and standing up straight. “I know, and I told myself I wouldn’t start, but it’s just…”
“It’s hard not to wonder,” Tosh said quietly. Ianto nodded, looking down and noticing that Tosh didn’t look as if she felt a whole lot better than he did.
“I went through so many possibilities in my mind of what might help her,” he sighed. “Finding all of you, then all the things we looked into together… even though I tried not to, my brain would bombard me with the what ifs every time, both good and bad.”
He shook his head. “I still occasionally wake up and think she’ll be there when I come into work,” Ianto admitted. “Not often, but…”
“Just enough to hurt,” Jack said, the pain clear in his voice. Ianto wondered if he was speaking from experience. Nearly a century and a half, Jack had said. How many loved ones had he seen meet an untimely end? How many times had his brain tricked him into hoping for just a little bit longer with a lover?
“Yeah,” he sighed. “I… it’s stupid, but I feel like moving is going to help. Sort of like a new start - waking up somewhere new, somewhere I never slept while thinking of her alone back here.”
“When do you move?” Tosh asked, the colour slowly beginning to return to her cheeks.
“Saturday.” Ianto had been keen to move in at the earliest date available. He still had another three weeks’ rent paid up in his current flat - and had given notice that he would be giving it up after that - but, however illogical his overly optimistic hopes for what the move would give him were, he just wanted to get out of there.
Even with Torchwood’s usual demands on his time, he was almost packed. A lot of things had never been unpacked on his return to Cardiff. That flat had never been a long-term solution. He had hoped, of course, to be moving somewhere nicer with Lisa when she was recovered enough, but…
He pushed that thought away. It really would do no good to dwell on it. There were things to be done.
“Do you need…?”
He cut Jack off. “I’ll be fine. Now,” he took a deep breath, “we have an email to send.”
Chapter Forty-Three
Comments and concrit are loved!
Fandom: Torchwood
Pairings: budding Jack/Ianto, references to past Ianto/Lisa
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: If I was the one who owned Torchwood, you think I'd admit it now?
Spoilers: Some information and events from s1,2. NONE for s3.
Summary: In the aftermath of Lisa's death, Ianto is struggling to cope - and new surprises don't help matters much. Can his friends on the team at Torchwood help him carry on?
Author's Note: Sequel to Guilt.
Thanks to: My beta cazmalfoy, angelzbabe1989 for idea bouncing, and morbid_sparks for cheerleading even when she doesn'tdidn't know what happens.
Previous chapters at master list
Chapter Forty-Two
“We should read it,” Ianto finally said several minutes later. He was fairly sure that reading the reply, whatever it said, was going to be painful, but he knew that he would just keep wondering if they didn’t. At least this way he could get some closure on the subject.
“Are you sure?” Tosh didn’t look particularly convinced.
“We’ll keep thinking about it, otherwise,” Ianto said as calmly as he could. “You know we will. We need to read it, and...”
A thought struck him.
“We need to read it and if he is offering help…” He swallowed. “We need to send a reply thanking him and saying that… the research was ceased due to lack of funding… or something like that.”
He could feel Jack’s hand rubbing supportively across his back, and Ianto unconsciously leant into it.
Tosh bit her lip and scooted forwards in her chair. “I…” She looked back up at him. “You’re definitely sure about this?”
Ianto nodded before he could change his mind. “I’m sure.”
Tosh moved the cursor over the email in the list, hesitating before clicking.
Ianto could feel his heart racing, and willed Tosh to just get on with it. Now that he’d made the decision, he wanted this to be over with.
Even though, logically, he knew that the time between Tosh’s click of the mouse and the email opening could only be a fraction of a second, the nerves racing around his body made it feel like hours.
He skipped over the salutations, and barely skimmed across the apologies and reasons why it had taken so long for him to get back to them; they weren’t what he was really interested in, they had even less bearing on the situation than his response to their request.
“‘If you could send me additional information I would be happy to…’” he read out in an unsteady voice, trailing off as the lump in his throat grew too large to force the air past to speak.
He tried to swallow and couldn’t.
“Breathe, Ianto,” Jack said behind him, not sounding particularly steady himself. The hand, which had stilled, resumed its sweeps across Ianto’s back. “Breathe for me.”
Ianto closed his eyes and tried to focus on Jack’s voice as he murmured encouragements. He dragged in a deep heaving breath, the air rushing into his burning lungs.
Belatedly, he realised that Jack was all but holding him upright, his own legs evidently having ceased to do so as his brain swirled madly around the fact that the Japanese expert had actually agreed.
If the timing had been right; if Dr Tanizaki had been able to get back to them immediately; if Lisa’s deterioration had just been that bit slower…
“You can’t let yourself think like that, you’ll drive yourself crazy with what ifs,” Jack told him, and Ianto realised that he must have been muttering his thoughts aloud.
Ianto sighed, getting his legs under him properly and standing up straight. “I know, and I told myself I wouldn’t start, but it’s just…”
“It’s hard not to wonder,” Tosh said quietly. Ianto nodded, looking down and noticing that Tosh didn’t look as if she felt a whole lot better than he did.
“I went through so many possibilities in my mind of what might help her,” he sighed. “Finding all of you, then all the things we looked into together… even though I tried not to, my brain would bombard me with the what ifs every time, both good and bad.”
He shook his head. “I still occasionally wake up and think she’ll be there when I come into work,” Ianto admitted. “Not often, but…”
“Just enough to hurt,” Jack said, the pain clear in his voice. Ianto wondered if he was speaking from experience. Nearly a century and a half, Jack had said. How many loved ones had he seen meet an untimely end? How many times had his brain tricked him into hoping for just a little bit longer with a lover?
“Yeah,” he sighed. “I… it’s stupid, but I feel like moving is going to help. Sort of like a new start - waking up somewhere new, somewhere I never slept while thinking of her alone back here.”
“When do you move?” Tosh asked, the colour slowly beginning to return to her cheeks.
“Saturday.” Ianto had been keen to move in at the earliest date available. He still had another three weeks’ rent paid up in his current flat - and had given notice that he would be giving it up after that - but, however illogical his overly optimistic hopes for what the move would give him were, he just wanted to get out of there.
Even with Torchwood’s usual demands on his time, he was almost packed. A lot of things had never been unpacked on his return to Cardiff. That flat had never been a long-term solution. He had hoped, of course, to be moving somewhere nicer with Lisa when she was recovered enough, but…
He pushed that thought away. It really would do no good to dwell on it. There were things to be done.
“Do you need…?”
He cut Jack off. “I’ll be fine. Now,” he took a deep breath, “we have an email to send.”
Chapter Forty-Three
Comments and concrit are loved!