Love Them Any Less
Jack had known that he would lose him eventually. He had told himself this hundreds of times. Every time Ianto had been in danger, Jack’s fear had been in the forefront, determining all of his actions. Logic was rarely in the equation when it came to protecting Ianto. Unfortunately, more often than not, this resulted in rash actions and bad decisions. It had happened again last night. And now Jack is sitting in the morgue on a chair Gwen had gotten for him, staring at the body of the young Welshman. It is lying on one of the slabs that would eventually be pushed into one of the many body drawers.
His body is going to be in the drawer next to Toshiko. Gwen had suggested it, saying that they would have liked that idea. Jack thinks, but doesn’t tell Gwen, that Tosh would have rather been next to Owen’s body if it hadn’t disintegrated and that Ianto would just have wanted to be buried in the ground like a normal person. But he keeps these things to himself, because although cynicism may be his coping mechanism, he knows it would hurt Gwen. And she’s all that’s left, now. He can’t lose her, too.
Jack knows that now he has to build a new team. He can no longer claim that they can handle all of the work, despite the lack of members. He knows that he and Gwen can’t do everything alone. But it hurts. It had been his team. Sure, he has been working for Torchwood on and off for over a century. But this was the first team that he had ever built. Gwen wasn’t even an original member. She had been a replacement (more like an upgrade, Jack thinks) for Suzie.
I can do this, he told himself, even as he did everything in his power not to let the tears in his eyes fall as he stared at Ianto. I’ve loved and lost before. I can move on. I am capable. Jack sighed as he watched a crying Gwen bring in another chair, this time for herself. Yes, I’ve done it before. But it never gets easier, because I never love them any less.
His body is going to be in the drawer next to Toshiko. Gwen had suggested it, saying that they would have liked that idea. Jack thinks, but doesn’t tell Gwen, that Tosh would have rather been next to Owen’s body if it hadn’t disintegrated and that Ianto would just have wanted to be buried in the ground like a normal person. But he keeps these things to himself, because although cynicism may be his coping mechanism, he knows it would hurt Gwen. And she’s all that’s left, now. He can’t lose her, too.
Jack knows that now he has to build a new team. He can no longer claim that they can handle all of the work, despite the lack of members. He knows that he and Gwen can’t do everything alone. But it hurts. It had been his team. Sure, he has been working for Torchwood on and off for over a century. But this was the first team that he had ever built. Gwen wasn’t even an original member. She had been a replacement (more like an upgrade, Jack thinks) for Suzie.
I can do this, he told himself, even as he did everything in his power not to let the tears in his eyes fall as he stared at Ianto. I’ve loved and lost before. I can move on. I am capable. Jack sighed as he watched a crying Gwen bring in another chair, this time for herself. Yes, I’ve done it before. But it never gets easier, because I never love them any less.