The Jack Harkness Grief Counselling Programme
Title: The Jack Harkness Grief Counselling Programme
Author: Madam Backslash
Fandom: Torchwood
Rating: 13 for a bit of minor swearing
Cast: Team
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters and am not making money out of them
Notes: Set at the end of Greeks Bearing Gifts. The result of rubynye's plot bunny. And last but least, all hail estoile, beta reader extraordinaire! (She makes awesome muffins, too.)
When Ianto Jones was a teenager, his friends had a saying to the effect that you couldn't fuck a crazy person and make them sane. At best, they'd stay crazy. At worst, they'd get crazier and then you'd end up with a psycho ex.
Ianto knows that saying isn't true.
When he arrived at Torchwood, Ianto was crazy. Certifiably nuts. Out of his mind with love and desperation and then, after everything had gone to hell, with grief, fear and shame.
Jack had waited until the initial crisis was over, given Ianto his punishment and watched him carry it out, then taken the young Welshman to bed. He had forgiven Ianto, and, much more importantly, allowed Ianto to believe that he was worthy of forgiveness.
One day he might even begin to forgive himself.
He can feel the pieces of himself starting to knit together. Some were ground to dust, others discarded because they no longer fit. There are still holes, but they're growing over, slowly. The rage leaked out through them. Some of the grief, fear and shame leaked out too, and what remains is losing its potency with time. Eventually he'll be able to think of Lisa without wanting to scream.
It was Jack who had applied the patches, smoothing the edges with whispered words and soft touches.
So when Jack took Ianto quietly aside in the wake of Mary's death and said he was going to look after Tosh, Ianto knew exactly what he meant.
Jack wasn't asking his permission. In any case, Ianto wasn't in any position to grant it. It was just a statement of fact; the Captain letting the Logistics Guy know where he'd be if needed. Jack would take Tosh home, stay with her for the night, and help heal her any way that he could and she needed.
Tosh oughtn't wake up alone after what had happened. Not like Ianto had, waking alone in his bed, unable to remember how he got there but frankly surprised he could remember his own name, let alone anything else. And he remembered everything else.
So Ianto looked at Jack and nodded, and Jack squeezed his shoulder as he turned away to Tosh, guiding her out of the Hub with a gentle hand on her back.
As he watched them go he was snatched out of his reverie by Owen's snarking about the Jack Harkness Grief Counselling Programme, Now With Extra Penis, and Gwen's horrified shout of "Owen!".
Ianto looked at Owen as if to say "You, too?" Tragedy wrote itself across Owen's face for the briefest flicker of a moment before the walls came back up and he scrambled for the autopsy bay, yelling for Ianto to make him a coffee.
As he gathered up the coffee cups and dishes that had been left scattered about, Ianto wondered if Jack could have helped Suzie. Whether he'd tried. And about who helps Jack with his grief. He hoped there was someone. There should be someone.
It won't be him. He's too broken, too... something. Or not something enough. He'll never be enough.
Jack wasn't asking permission. And much as Ianto wants it, he knows he never will.
Author: Madam Backslash
Fandom: Torchwood
Rating: 13 for a bit of minor swearing
Cast: Team
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters and am not making money out of them
Notes: Set at the end of Greeks Bearing Gifts. The result of rubynye's plot bunny. And last but least, all hail estoile, beta reader extraordinaire! (She makes awesome muffins, too.)
When Ianto Jones was a teenager, his friends had a saying to the effect that you couldn't fuck a crazy person and make them sane. At best, they'd stay crazy. At worst, they'd get crazier and then you'd end up with a psycho ex.
Ianto knows that saying isn't true.
When he arrived at Torchwood, Ianto was crazy. Certifiably nuts. Out of his mind with love and desperation and then, after everything had gone to hell, with grief, fear and shame.
Jack had waited until the initial crisis was over, given Ianto his punishment and watched him carry it out, then taken the young Welshman to bed. He had forgiven Ianto, and, much more importantly, allowed Ianto to believe that he was worthy of forgiveness.
One day he might even begin to forgive himself.
He can feel the pieces of himself starting to knit together. Some were ground to dust, others discarded because they no longer fit. There are still holes, but they're growing over, slowly. The rage leaked out through them. Some of the grief, fear and shame leaked out too, and what remains is losing its potency with time. Eventually he'll be able to think of Lisa without wanting to scream.
It was Jack who had applied the patches, smoothing the edges with whispered words and soft touches.
So when Jack took Ianto quietly aside in the wake of Mary's death and said he was going to look after Tosh, Ianto knew exactly what he meant.
Jack wasn't asking his permission. In any case, Ianto wasn't in any position to grant it. It was just a statement of fact; the Captain letting the Logistics Guy know where he'd be if needed. Jack would take Tosh home, stay with her for the night, and help heal her any way that he could and she needed.
Tosh oughtn't wake up alone after what had happened. Not like Ianto had, waking alone in his bed, unable to remember how he got there but frankly surprised he could remember his own name, let alone anything else. And he remembered everything else.
So Ianto looked at Jack and nodded, and Jack squeezed his shoulder as he turned away to Tosh, guiding her out of the Hub with a gentle hand on her back.
As he watched them go he was snatched out of his reverie by Owen's snarking about the Jack Harkness Grief Counselling Programme, Now With Extra Penis, and Gwen's horrified shout of "Owen!".
Ianto looked at Owen as if to say "You, too?" Tragedy wrote itself across Owen's face for the briefest flicker of a moment before the walls came back up and he scrambled for the autopsy bay, yelling for Ianto to make him a coffee.
As he gathered up the coffee cups and dishes that had been left scattered about, Ianto wondered if Jack could have helped Suzie. Whether he'd tried. And about who helps Jack with his grief. He hoped there was someone. There should be someone.
It won't be him. He's too broken, too... something. Or not something enough. He'll never be enough.
Jack wasn't asking permission. And much as Ianto wants it, he knows he never will.