A Father's Love
Title: A Father's Love
Pairing: Jack, Owen, Jack/Ianto
Rating: PG, contains mild violence and some firm but gentle familial domestic disclipline.
Spoilers: Season One and Two
Summary: Set after A Day in The Death. Owen is having difficulty coming to terms with his new 'lifestyle' and seeks normality from an unlikely source. Meanwhile Jack begins to fear that he's made a terrible mistake.
Disclaimers: RTD invented Torchwood. I'm just reliving the good old days.
Notes: It's been FOREVER since I wrote anything. But the fire has returned. Thrace warning: Read with hot chocolate. Sorry about the formatting. Despite inputting paragraphs 3 times, LJ just deletes them. Sorry if it's hard to read!
He looked to him now. The man he despised. Except he didn't, not really. He resented him. Yes. It was resentment. He would allow himself that. This man, who gets to live forever. Shag forever. See forever. Whilst all he could do was fight off the darkness day after day until it finally caught up with him.
Yet Jack continued to lay down the law, with Ianto trailing behind him like a lost puppy. The guy that does the dry cleaning suddenly promoted to best man. And Gwen. First Lady of Torchwood. Then Martha, who marched in like she belonged there all along.
At least he still had Tosh to look down on.
Owen snarled at himself. He tried to shake away his thoughts. He looked to Jack again now. Jack who was regarding him like a weevil that might need a good spraying at any moment.
He hated everything, but nothing more than himself. That was it, he told himself again. That was his life. The last breath, the last meal, the last shag. And now he was this thing, forever. The people closest to him could barely look at him.
He felt panic. He imagined his breathing would be fast, only he had no breath now. A walking, talking corpse. The joke all along - Owen didn't think it were possible to be filled with more contempt and self loathing that he already had been. To be more bitter. To hate more. And yet here he was. Perhaps now it was all he was. His rage and self disgust fuelling his dead body. No such thing as a soul - just pure hatred keeping him going.
His despair reached crisis point in absolute silence. His eyes fell on the Hub floor as his thoughts exhausted themselves. Finally, he looked up at his colleagues. Gwen was pretending to see something else. Cowardly bitch, thought Owen. Tosh had tears in her eyes and blinked quickly to disguise it. That's a great help. Ianto looked pained. Genuinely pained. Owen tried to hate him, but couldn't. At least Ianto was looking him in the face.
Finally. Nothing left to lose. He lifted his steely glare to the man who was surely poised to execute him given the slightest reason. How would he do it? Well, Owen could still be harmed, so all Jack had to do was cut his head off. Or chop his legs off. Or just freeze him indefinitely.
Jack was glaring back.
“Enough.”
Jack's word reverberated around the Hub. Owen flinched.
“All of you out. I wanna talk to Owen alone.”
Gwen obeyed first, then Tosh a little more hesitantly. It took a stern look from Jack for Ianto to join them, but the three of them were soon off and out of the cog door.
Then they were alone.
Owen sniffed.
“Gonna do it then?” asked Owen.
Jack raised an eyebrow.
“Do what, Owen?”
“Kill me. Somehow. For good. Can't let me live like this, can you.”
Jack's jaw clenched and unclenched several times. He turned away for a moment before fixing Owen with a stare.
It frightened Owen. It wasn't fury or loathing that he saw. It was sorrow. Regret. Pain.
“Oh god you really are, aren't you.”
He was answered with a quick slap in the face and Jack glowering in front of him.
"Of course not!" hissed Jack.
“Easy!” said Owen, rubbing his cheek. “I can't heal, y'know. If you push my face off, I'm like it forever.”
“Shut up!” This time it was a powerful command. Owen obeyed without thinking.
Jack was breathing hard. He paced for a moment, distracted. Owen watched him, stunned.
Finally, Jack spoke, his voice laden with grief.
“I brought you back.”
Owen sniffed again.
“Yeah I know,” he said. “So you have to do what you have to do. Clear up the mess. You shouldn't have done it. I shouldn't be here.”
His voice cracked and he blinked away tears, suddenly feeling a wave of guilt about Tosh that he couldn't explain. Anger filled him up.
“Well go on then!” he yelled at Jack. “Do it! Finish me! Come on, Jack. You've got the fucking security code now so put this to bed!”
Another slap landed hard across his face; a stinging shock, but a measured reproach. With absolute horror, Owen finally saw tears streaming down Jack's face.
“I did not,” shouted Jack, “bring you back for a fucking security code!”
Silence filled the space between them.
Speaking softer this time, Jack stepped closer to Owen.
“And I am not going to let you go again. Do you understand me?”
Owen swallowed and nodded. His body caved as Jack got even closer. Desperately needing comfort, reassurance, forgiveness. Acceptance. He fell into the warmth and strength of Jack with a cry and started to weep with everything he had.
**
Some time later, they were on the Torchwood sofa. Jack was still holding him.
“It was just... darkness,” said Owen softly. “I don't know what I am now.”
“Welcome to the club,” said Jack.
“Bit different,” spat Owen. “At least you can still fuck.”
“Hey,” chided Jack. But then found himself at a loss for words. “I don't know, Owen. I don't know what you are exactly. But you're still you. Bitter, angry, rude...”
“Fuck off,” said Owen with a smirk. It earned him a slap on the backside. Owen immediately straightened up. “That's enough cuddling for one night, thanks.”
He stood up and adjusted his shirt.
“Owen,” said Jack.
Owen turned to look at him. For the first time, he saw real age behind those blue eyes. For the first time he could really believe Jack was just as old as he said he was.
“What?” he asked, with less strength than he had intended.
Jack cleared his throat. “I'm sorry. Okay? I'm sorry I was hard on you. I just don't know how to help you. And this... this is all my fault.”
Owen felt sure that if he had breath in his body he would have stopped breathing. Jack apologising to him. Things really were upside down.
Owen shrugged, suddenly feeling bigger. “'S'not your fault, Jack,” he said. “This is the job. You gave me a life again after the death of Katie. Not an ideal life, but it's been something. More than something. Like really being alive. Because death was so close.”
He stopped, realizing how his words must be affecting Jack.
“I'm sorry,” he stammered.
“What for?” said Jack with a half laugh. “For telling the truth?”
“I didn't mean that you're not alive just because you can't die,” Owen said.
“I can die,” corrected Jack. “I just don't stay dead. And no, after all this time, I don't fear my death either. I fear the manner of it at times. Don't relish certain methods. Dying of thirst sucks beyond the telling of it.”
Owen shuddered but forced himself to listen to Jack.
“But you're right. Life is defined by death. Without an ending, what is a story?”
Jack trailed off and sighed, running a hand through his hair.
Owen frowned.
“I guess it's just a really long story,” he said.
Jack chuckled.
“A very long story,” he added.
“But Jack,” continued Owen. “It doesn't render the story meaningless. It's just ongoing. It's not like you're numb.”
“Not yet,” rasped Jack.
Owen rolled his eyes.
“For fuck's sake! For once I thought this was about me.”
Jack glared coolly at Owen, who ignored him.
“If you're telling me I've got to spend eternity with some self pitying old poof then for fuck's sake shove me in the freezer.”
“Owen,” warned Jack.
“You've got endless power, endless money, Gwen fawning on you, Tea boy giving you happies, super pheromones...”
“OWEN,” shouted Jack, again unheard.
“...you could go anywhere in the world, shag anyone, do anything, disappear, reappear... it's not my fucking fault you've chosen to stay in sodding Cardiff fighting monsters and rearing a gang of misfits! Why don't you go to Marbella and chill the fuck out?”
Jack launched himself off the sofa in one deft move but Owen was quick and out stepped him. He let out a peel of gleeful laughter as Jack, furious, tried to get his hands on him.
“Careful!” called Owen happily as he artfully dodged Jack's grip, “I don't knit back together, remember!”
“I'm going for a less breakable area,” spat Jack as he finally caught Owen by the neck of his shirt and pulled him over to the sofa. Owen struggled, still giggling.
“Easy, Captain,” chirped Owen. “Just proving there's life in the old dog yet.”
But Jack ignored him, sat down on the sofa and pulled Owen firmly over his knees.
Owen cried out with alarm as Jack held him in place.
“Jack! What are you doing?”
“Like you said, Owen. Proving there's life in the old dog yet.” Jack smiled, calm but stern. “But it's about time the pup learnt some respect.”
“Don't you dare!” shouted Owen, but a hard smack came down on the seat of his jeans. “Ow! Jack!”
Several more smacks followed as Jack consistently laid down the law with his open palm.
“Eternity's a long time, Owen,” scolded Jack playfully as Owen wriggled. “Are you sure you wanna spend it with a stinging backside?”
“Ow!” yelled Owen with indignation rather than pain. Jack continued to spank him, fighting back a snigger.
“When are you going to learn,?” asked Jack, putting more power behind each smack.
“Learn what?” Owen squealed, failing to fight off his punishment and starting to sink into Jack.
Jack landed one more hard smack on Owen's backside, causing an extremely unmanly squeak from Owen, and then stopped. He rested his hands on Owen's back solemnly.
“Learn that you are cared for, whether you like it or not.”
Owen wanted to yell. Or spit out something cruel. Instead he allowed his full weight to rest on Jack's knees; the only way he could communicate gratitude.
Even so, after a few seconds, the moment became too awkward for him.
“Okay,” said Owen, still face down over his boss's lap. “That's enough. Never could stand you going gay on me.”
Jack held back a laugh, recognizing the pathetic deflection, and responded by whacking Owen's bottom half a dozen times before bringing him up to standing and pulling him into a tight hug.
“Fucking sadist,” muttered Owen sorely into Jack's chest.
“You've no idea,” said Jack with a snort. He patted Owen gently.
“One day at a time,” said Jack. “I'll see you tomorrow morning.”
“Yeah you will,” said Owen. “And I'll tell ya something, Jack. When Martha sees the state of my arse she'll come after you.”
Jack smirked.
“Everyone's a winner,” he said happily.
At that, the cog door opened, making them both jump. Ianto stepped in.
“You're back,” said Jack sheepishly. Ianto narrowed his eyes.
“Wanted to make sure you hadn't killed each other,” he said seriously.
“Newsflash, Ianto,” said Owen with a sneer. “That's impossible now.”
“Nothing's impossible,” stated Ianto, calmly but dangerously.
“Boys,” warned Jack. “That's enough. Owen, home. Ianto, my office.”
“Why?” asked Ianto.
“Like you have to ask...” mumbled Owen before Jack could respond. He made his way through the cog door. “Night, Jack. Thanks for the... er...'chat'.”
He made a point of it, which Ianto did not miss.
“Night,” said Jack, crossly, but with clear defeat.
The cog door started to close. Before it did, Jack caught a glimpse of a soft and genuine gaze from Owen. He sighed. He hoped more than anything he'd alleviated some of the young man's pain; reiterated he still had a place in the world.
Jack found himself staring at the floor, lost in thought. He glanced up. Ianto was standing on the steps to Jack's office, glaring at him.
“Ianto?” asked Jack questioningly, shifting on his feet.
“You look guilty,” said Ianto.
“No,” said Jack a bit too quickly, not sure what Ianto would make of his 'chat' with Owen.
“Your office, you said.” Ianto raised an eyebrow.
“Right,” said Jack nervously. He started to move up the steps, inching carefully past Ianto who was scrutinizing him keenly.
“Chop chop,” said Ianto, patting Jack firmly on the behind to propel him faster. Jack threw him a look but knew better than to argue and continued on his way to the office.
Ianto smiled warmly and followed him.
Jack spun around as Ianto entered the office.
“What did you do?” Ianto immediately asked.
“Nothing,” lied Jack. “We just talked.”
“Jack,” warned Ianto, in such a tone of voice that Jack made feel very small but also caused a stir in his groin at the same time. He bit his lip.
“Um,” started Jack. “He was being belligerent. And totally unreasonable. And utterly disrespectful.”
“Yes,” said Ianto simply. “He's Owen.”
“Stop taking his side,” whined Jack.
Ianto rolled his eyes and smiled.
“So,” he said. “How did you handle it?”
Jack took a deep breath.
“I spanked him,” said Jack.
Ianto looked at him blankly.
Jack waited. Ianto blinked but said nothing.
“I know it's... hardly appropriate,” stammered Jack, “but he needed something from me and I felt like I should... I dunno...it just seemed like the right thing to do.”
Ianto still stared at him.
“Ianto...” began Jack again.
“CCTV,” said Ianto.
“What?” said Jack in disbelief.
“The CCTV,” repeated Ianto. “I have to see this.”
And like an excited kid, he ran to the nearest monitor to pull up the recent footage. Jack, speechless, followed him, watching on in shock.
Ianto found it pretty quickly, knowing exactly which cameras to locate. He started to play back the footage. And there it was. Jack spanking Owen on the sofa.
Ianto laughed. And laughed. And laughed. Jack, still speechless, eventually came to his senses and seized the key pad from Ianto, stopping the playback. He immediately deleted the footage.
“Hey!” complained Ianto. “That was my entertainment!”
“I'll give you entertainment!” scolded Jack, pointing a finger in Ianto's face. Ianto's smiled disappeared as Jack cleaned off all evidence of Owen's punishment from the CCTV system.
“He had it coming,” mumbled Ianto into his tie.
“So have you,” warned Jack, shutting off the monitor. He put his hands on his hips and sighed loudly. He suddenly felt tired.
“What have I done...” he breathed, almost unaware he had spoken out loud.
Ianto frowned. “Well, you only smacked him on the bottom like a spoiled brat, and from what I saw he was goading you to see if you'd still treat him like a human being, so...”
“Not that!” snapped Jack impatiently.
“Oh.” Ianto put his hands in his pockets. “You mean... bringing him back to life, basically.”
“Yeah,” said Jack bitterly.
“Yeah, that's probably more of a concern,” conceded Ianto.
“But he's not alive,” said Jack quietly. “He's not living. He's... I don't know what he is. I don't know what to tell him. I don't know what I've done.”
Jack's eyes widened in despair. All Ianto could do was take him in his arms and hold him. He swayed Jack gently for some time, providing a warm strength for his lost lover.
Eventually, Jack stepped back. Ianto felt his stomach wrench at the sight of Jack's watery eyes. He knew he needed to find something to say.
“I know you feel awful, responsible,” he said steadily, surprising himself with the confidence. “But the only way I can see this, is that you've given him more time. It may be limited in ways we don't know of at the moment, but for now, Doctor Owen Harper is still doing his job. He's helping us. He's still a pain in the arse.”
Jack smiled sadly and listened to Ianto's words.
“He's still him. He is alive. He just also happens to be a corpse. And it's scared you.”
Jack pouted in spite of himself. He wasn't scared... was he?
Ianto put his arms around him again, and Jack did not resist. “You brought him back. Not company policy, I know. I'm sure you're thinking about what The Doctor would say. But fuck that, Jack. The Doctor isn't human. He doesn't have to live here. And it's Owen we're talking about.”
Jack melted into Ianto's arms. “But I defied the laws of nature,” sniffed Jack.
Ianto gripped Jack's arms firmly and gave him a little shake. “Don't be an arrogant idiot, Jack,” he scolded. “We're all part of nature. We're all made from the same stuff. We can't step outside it for a moment to defy it. Whatever we do is part of nature's plan and it's incredibly arrogant to assume we're somehow above it and it needs to be handled with kit gloves.”
Jack's mouth fell open for a moment in surprise at Ianto's authority. Ianto continued with his voice rising slightly. “Nature isn't birds and bees and a field, Jack. It's everything that ever happened, including you and me. Yes! Even you - coming back to life. Nature did that, too. She's cleverer than you or me. The oldest philosophy on earth, Jack: 'No action contrary to nature'. Because then you're in tune with the universe. So tell me how a father's love could ever be denied. Tell me you were wrong to do it and that Owen isn't supposed to be here!”
And that was when Jack finally gave in. He collapsed into Ianto's arms and sobbed as they both fell to their knees. Ianto held him, rocking him like a small child. The confusion, the fear, the guilt - the sheer burden of Jack's place in the universe seemed to lift from him in the arms of this one strong man. Ianto Jones.
And for a long while, those were only words Jack could remember. Ianto Jones.