(no subject)
Jackanto Fic thingy.
Title: Goodbyes.
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: Final Episode and They Keep Killing Suzie
Warning: Mentioned Mansex.
Pairing: Jackanto.
Summary: Jack's not good at saying goodbye.
The coffee clatters to the floor.
"What?" Ianto's voice is hoarse, disbelieving. "No, no, no... You're lying. You're bloody lying." His breathing becomes erratic and he scrubs his fingers through his short hair as if it'll somehow make everything better, the coffee draining away across the floor.
"Ianto, calm down." Gwen tries to put a hand on the Welshman's shoulder and he yanks away as if she has the plague.
"It's easy en-" His voice crumbles a little, and goes quiet, a dangerous sign; taking a deep, panicked breath he continues. "It's okay for you, isn't it Gwen? You got Rhys back. Ever- Everything's... It's all just fucking great!" His breathing hitches, his eyes blurring.
How can Jack do this to him?
Not again. Jesus, no.
"Yan, calm down, please. It'll be o-" Gwen tries again, resisting the urge to reach out and touch him.
"Don't call me Yan. Only Ja-" Ianto swallows thickly, "H-Him. Only he's allowed to."
Gwen nods slightly, standing back as Ianto's face crumples, the stoic refusal to look facts in the face diminishing into pure hysterics. "N-no. He promised. He promised he wouldn't do this to me... God... Please, pleeease..."His body seems to fold, and Tosh dashes over to him, trying to slow down the fall. He lies there, body quivering softly in Tosh's lap and she pets his hair carefully, murmuring something soothing in Japanese.
His cries go mute and all Gwen can see is his shoulders shaking fiercely.
"Um, Ianto," Owen's voice cuts in, worried as if he has no right to speak - so unlike Owen. The Welshman looks up slowly, eyes watery and breathing heavily. Owen is holding out a neatly folded square of blue material with something yellow pinned to it. "I- I think this is yours." Owen continues hesitantly giving a slight smile. Ianto nods wearily, and takes it out of the other man's hands, looking at it properly this time.
The material is heavy, old, but there's something distinctly futuristic about it. Jack's coat.
Ianto takes in a tiny, bubbly breath, and pulls off the bright yellow post-it note attatched to the jacket with shaking hands. Jack's writing, scrawled and definitely hurried:
Ianto,
Sorry I can't say goodbye properly, god, I wish I could've.
Gone to the doctors, gonna get fixed.
All I can say is sit tight, and have that stopwatch handy, we'll be needing it when I get back.
;)
Goodbye for now, J. xxx
Ianto blinks, looks at Tosh who looks back with the ghost of a grin. He returns it weakly, and for a minute everything feels like maybe it'll turn out alright.