Fic- Not While I'm Around
Title: Not While I’m Around
Pairing: Jack/Ianto,
Ratings: Adult - language, spanking
Spoilers: General Series 1 and 2
Summary: Ianto has to help Jack re-discover his sense of self preservation after Jack repeatedly displays a troubling disregard for his own well being. Moderate angst. Intervention. Unconditional love.
Disclaimers: I own nothing!
Notes: Set near the end of season 2. Comments please!
A third consecutive night of weevil hunting. It was almost a dance at this point. The two of them had their routine down. Jack dodged a particularly vicious weevil whilst Ianto took aim and sprayed a good dose of the repellent.
“Don't get too close!” yelled Jack as Ianto barely got out of the way in time.
“You neither,” ordered Ianto. He leapt back out of harm's way as Jack hooded two of them in one go. Together they bundled the now submissive weevils into the SUV.
“I can come back. You can't,” spat Jack angrily and he gave one of the weevils a shove. They both turned around in time to block a third weevil from tearing at them. Two well aimed kicks dropped it to the ground and Ianto released the rest of the spray into its face.
“Gotcha!” he declared, helping Jack throw number three in the SUV and slamming the doors.
Jack made to move away but Ianto stopped him with a firm hand on his shoulder. “Just because you can die and come back doesn't mean you have to kill yourself every five minutes, Jack.”
Jack froze. He turned to look at Ianto in the face, utterly obstinate. “It's what I do,” he said simply, before turning and getting into the driver's seat.
Ianto fumed inwardly. Jack had been more and more reckless lately. As if he was numb to the pain of being torn apart. But Ianto wasn't numb. And it had been a long time since he'd seen Jack smile. They drove home in silence; Jack sulking, Ianto glaring.
--
Later that night, they lay silently in bed. Ianto spooned Jack from behind, occasionally kissing his neck. He was at an absolute loss for what to say. But he decided to try.
“Jack,” he whispered.
“Mm?” Jack replied.
“How many times have you died?”
“Countless,” said Jack, still with his eyes closed.
Ianto kissed his neck again. “So you have absolute confidence, do you, that every time you die, you will come back?”
Jack squirmed in his arms and scowled into the pillow. “Yes,” he answered tersely. Ianto tensed and pushed himself up on his elbow to study Jack's face.
“I don't believe you,” he said steadily. Jack opened his eyes and looked up at Ianto, before slowly sitting up.
“You don't believe me?” He spoke dangerously. Ianto swallowed and summoned all of his courage to stick with his challenge.
“No,” he said softly, but his eyes bore into Jack's with severity. He watched Jack grow pale and braced himself for what would surely become a very unpleasant exchange.
“You don't believe me.” Not a question this time. Jack glowered at Ianto. “I've died of thirst, of hunger, been shot, tortured, torn apart, blown to pieces, injected, suffocated...”
“I know!” bellowed Ianto, shocking them both. His voice reverberated around the Hub, even from within the hatch. He thought fast. “I know, Jack,” he said. “But you still have no idea how, or why. You don't know for sure that you will come back. Do you?”
Jack was trembling. Ianto felt his mouth go dry. He'd never seen Jack so angry, at least not with him.
“Do you?” he prompted bravely.
Jack glared white hot anger at Ianto, but could find no words. He shifted back down in the bed and curled up as before. “I always come back,” he muttered.
Ianto stared at him for a while before doing the same. He spooned Jack and held him closer than before. He placed a kiss to his neck one last time before going to sleep.
--
A Sunday morning. It had been a quiet weekend so far. Ianto walked over to Jack with two cups of his very best coffee.
“Here you go,” he chirped. Jack sighed contentedly and winked at Ianto. They both sat on the Torchwood sofa, Jack with a paper in his hand.
“Seven down,” he said. “A bear's lair.”
“Cave?” ventured Ianto.
“Three letters,” said Jack.
“Den,” said Ianto happily.
“There's my clever boy,” said Jack, kissing Ianto on the forehead.
“There's my grumpy bear,” retorted Ianto.
Jack frowned. “I'm not grumpy,” he said, grumpily.
Ianto smiled to himself and sipped his coffee. “Good job or I'd confine you to your den for the day.”
Jack pouted and stirred his drink. Ianto studied him. He seemed paler than usual. Tired. Strangely heavy.
“Jack?” started Ianto.
“What?” replied Jack curtly, looking away.
Ianto took a deep breath. “What's wrong with you?”
Finally, Jack met his eyes. “Nothing,” he said firmly.
“Bullshit,” said Ianto pleasantly. “And you're not getting away with it.”
“What?” said Jack, quite puzzled.
Ianto rose and stood in front of Jack. “Something is wrong with you. You're unhappy. You've been through shit like all of us, except 100 times more than all of us. I think you're depressed.”
Jack scowled. “I'm not depressed. I just don't feel like...” He trailed off.
“Like what?” asked Ianto. “Don't feel like... anything? Name one thing you feel like doing today.”
Silence. Jack put his coffee down and folded his arms across his chest, valiantly sullen.
“One thing, Jack,” continued Ianto. “A meal? Drive in the country? Watch a film? Go for a walk?”
Jack glared at Ianto but said nothing.
“Okay,” said Ianto. “I admit, those things aren't particularly inspiring for a superhero. How about one thing you'd like to do to me.”
Jack raised an eyebrow, but his expression was one of spite. “You really wanna know?” he asked dangerously.
Ianto took a step closer to him and Jack saw that he meant business. He dropped his eye line to avoid Ianto's glower. Ianto put his hands on his hips.
“What's the matter, Jack?” he asked. “Don't wanna kiss me? Fuck me? You usually can't keep your hands off me...”
“...not in the mood,” sneered Jack.
“Do you wanna hit me?” asked Ianto simply.
It jolted Jack out of his reverie. He looked up at Ianto with surprise, then shifted in his seat. “Of course not. How can you ask me that?”
Ianto felt relieved. Not because he thought for one moment that Jack did want to hit him, but because he finally seemed to have touched a nerve.
“I'm sure I must be irritating you,” said Ianto. “Asking you all kinds of questions you clearly don't want to answer.”
“Doesn't mean I'm going to hit you, does it?”
“But you do,” replied Ianto gently. “Every time you die.”
Jack stared at Ianto, wide eyed, mouth open. “What?”
“Every time you die, Jack, like a punch in the gut. I never know if you're coming back. Not really for sure. I lose you every time. It hurts like hell. And yet, lately, it's like you do it as soon as comb your hair.”
Jack blinked, feeling a rush of shame inside of him. “I always come back,” he muttered again.
“What if you don't?” said Ianto, his voiced raised. “What if the Universe is waiting for you to be as cavalier and arrogant as possible, so you no longer revere death. What if the next time is it?”
“But it never is!” Jack was suddenly on his feet yelling. “I never stay dead! No matter what I do!”
The air was thick between them.
“So I was right,” said Ianto, his voice laden with sorrow. “You have been trying to kill yourself.”
--
“I wouldn't do that,” said Jack quietly. They were sitting together again. Ianto stared into space, tears in his eyes, as Jack tried his best to explain. “If I honestly thought I was going to stay dead, I wouldn't...”
“So it's self harm, then. What you're doing.”
Jack frowned. Self harm. Is that what it is? “I don't know, Ianto,” he replied indignantly. “I'm just getting through the day here.”
“You've given up. You let yourself be torn apart by weevils because it doesn't matter anymore. You deserve all the pain the world has to give you.”
Jack stood abruptly. “Stop this crap, Ianto! I'm just doing my job.”
Ianto leapt to his feet and grabbed Jack by his upper arms. “No! You listen to me. You're punishing yourself because you think you deserve it. But you don't, Jack. You deserve to happy like anyone else.”
Jack wriggled but didn't put up much of a fight. Ianto increased his grip, shaking him slightly. “You deserve to come home without bruises, without cuts, without bloodstained clothes,” chided Ianto. “You deserve to come home to love and acceptance for what you are and what you do.”
“You're not accepting me right now,” hissed Jack, making more of an effort to break away from Ianto's hold.
“I accept everything that you are!” yelled Ianto, this time giving Jack a proper shake. “But I will not stand by and allow you to harm yourself.”
“I don't stay harmed!” Jack shouted back.
“Yes you do!” Ianto positively screamed into Jack's face. “Internally, Jack. Inside. You're full of scars. I can see them!”
Jack's face crumpled. He struggled to get free from Ianto but Ianto pulled him in tighter and held him with all his strength. Jack gave in. Finally feeling safe in those arms, he allowed himself to break down and cry.
--
“So these are the rules,” announced Ianto. “You live like a human being, not a superhero. If you happen to die in the line of duty, then we thank all the angels in heaven that you can come back... if you do come back, that is.”
Jack was sitting once more on the sofa later that same night. After a good deal of comforting and conversation, he was feeling a lot better. But Ianto was giving him one hell of a lecture.
Ianto continued, “If I discover that you brought about your own death for some other reason, such as getting out of trouble, showing off or because you couldn't be bothered to protect yourself, I shall...”
“You'll what?” asked Jack with a grin.
Ianto narrowed his eyes and Jack's grin disappeared. “I shall make you think you have stayed dead and you are now in Hell,” he stated dangerously.
Jack swallowed. “But...”
“No buts,” scolded Ianto. “You never know when this thing will wear off. Each time you die, that could be it. And then what will I do? What will the world do without you? It's time to stop being reckless.”
He was right of course. Jack shrugged into the sofa sheepishly. “Sorry,” he said sweetly.
“You'll be more than sorry,” said Ianto, pointing a finger at Jack. But he couldn't stay stern once Jack was being compliant. He sat back down next to him and kissed him tenderly.
--
It was a month later. Jack had certainly regained a spring in his step, though the darkness weighed him down so much of the time. He hadn't died once. There was something in the thrill of knowing that if he came home completely in tact, he'd be making someone happy. So he worked harder at outstepping the weevils, rather than allowing them to rip him to pieces as some macabre decoy.
Ianto still kept a close eye on him. He wrote endlessly in his diary about the burden this man had to carry. He was after all, just a man. He wrote of his anger at the Doctor for leaving Jack this way, and pondered finding the man with the blue box himself. Then he wrote of his pride, because Jack was doing so much to do his best for the world. Ianto also wrote of how he would reward Jack, though he blushed as he recounted those experiences.
It was mid afternoon. Ianto had been taking care of various housekeeping duties and monitoring rift spikes. He was alone in the Hub, with everyone out and about taking care of their respective projects. Jack had been visiting Flat Holm Island earlier that day and was due back any minute.
The phone rang.
“Detective Swanson!” greeted Ianto cheerfully. “How can I help you?”
“We have your Captain,” said the detective. “And I'm sorry. But he's dead.”
--
Ianto walked hurriedly along the dark corridor towards the morgue. The officer with him tried to explain. “There were two witnesses on the boat. One of them says he fell, the other says he jumped.”
“Why would he do that?” asked Ianto curtly.
“Well, the second witness saw another man on the boat who had something Jack wanted. Apparently this mysterious object was thrown into the sea and Jack dived in after it.”
“What was it?”
The officer handed Ianto a clear plastic bag. It contained Jack's wrist strap. “The same witness says this man pick pocketed Jack, but we never found him.”
Ianto scowled at the wrist strap. Jack had drowned for this?
The officer shook his head. “Terrible. People just don't think. He must have gone in right after it, but that coat would have pulled him right down.”
“Thanks,” said Ianto, effectively dismissing the officer. He entered the morgue alone.
The room felt like death. Ianto slowly approached the bed, recognizing the body of Jack just from its size and shape. But Jack was still.
Ianto breathed deeply and prayed with everything he had that this wasn't it. That's Jack's luck hadn't run out. He stretched out his hand and pulled the sheet back. There was Jack, white, deathly, still. He leant in and spoke softly. “It's me. Wake up.”
There was no response. Battling the panic, Ianto breathed deeply once again. “Jack,” he said harshly, wake up. Now.”
A sudden intake of breath. He was alive.
Ianto almost fainted with relief. They looked at each other, and without saying a word, went right into action. Jack got up and retrieved his clothes which had been bagged up, whilst Ianto kept watch.
“Now,” said Ianto. They crept up the corridor and were almost out of the department when the same officer approached. Jack ducked behind a plant.
“All okay?” asked the officer.
“Fine. I'll be arranging to collect his body later today,” spoke Ianto, acting mournful.
“Right you are,” replied the officer. “Sorry for your loss, mate.”
Ianto nodded. The officer stepped away and Jack used Ianto to hide behind until they got out of the building and into the car.
The car doors slammed closed and they both sighed with deep relief. Turning to look at each other, they smiled softly. But it didn't last. Ianto held up the plastic bag with Jack's wrist strap.
“This is what you died for, Jack,” he said quietly.
“I came back,” said Jack. But he knew it was futile. Ianto started the car and took them home.
--
Jack had showered. He stepped into some lose fitting trousers, allowing the braces to swing by his side. It was early evening so he made do with his under shirt and made his way to see Ianto. He had let him down. He knew it.
He stepped into the office. Ianto was at his desk, scribbling some information down.
“Are you the boss now?” asked Jack, trying to break the tension.
“Yep.”
Jack put his hands in his pockets and waited for Ianto to finish what he was doing. It happened quickly. Ianto placed a form in the desk drawer and slammed it shut. Jack flinched. He watched Ianto come and stand in front of the desk, folding his arms.
“Okay, Jack,” said Ianto calmly. “Tell me what happened. I want the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Clear?”
“Yeah,” said Jack before taking a deep breath. He forced himself to look Ianto in the eye. “Everything was going fine on the island. One of the rift victims, Charlie, needed specialist medical attention so he, a nurse and two porters were on the boat back with me. Only, one of porters was actually just some guy who'd stowed onto the boat.”
Ianto listened carefully, watching Jack for any signs of being untruthful.
“Then Charlie flipped out for no reason and there was a lot of confusion as we tried to calm him down. I was holding him, not paying attention to who or what was touching me. When I stood up, I realized my wrist strap was gone.”
“Okay,” said Ianto. “So what did you do?”
“I looked around and I saw one of the porters looking a little suspicious, so I went over to him. He panicked and threw the strap to some other guy who was working with him. I ran over to him, he threw it back, only he was a sucky throw and it landed in the drink.”
Jack was getting angry as he recounted his story.
“Then what?”
Jack shifted on his feet and glared at Ianto, sensing his story might not be what Ianto wanted to hear. “I jumped in after it.”
“Fully clothed?” enquired Ianto.
“Yes. There wasn't time...” Jack trailed off and hung his head. The silence around him was almost painful.
Finally, Ianto spoke. “You must have known you would die,” he said evenly. “Your coat alone would have dragged you down.”
“I didn't...”
“Jack,” warned Ianto. “Did you or did you not know that you would most probably die in retrieving your wrist strap?”
Jack felt sick. His heart pounded. “I knew,” he answered in a small voice. He glanced at Ianto, who seemed to be rigid with fury. “But I need that wrist strap, Ianto!” he spoke desperately. “It's my only link to my past. The only thing I have that...”
“Be quiet.” When Ianto spoke, his voice was low and gravelly. Jack immediately fell silent as Ianto continued. “You told me yourself it's redundant. Sentimental value, I'm sure. But not worth risking your life.”
Jack felt himself tremble. Why was he afraid? How could he be afraid of Ianto? He was much stronger. He was the boss. But somehow, Jack felt compelled to stay still and take whatever was coming.
“How could you be so stupid?” yelled Ianto.
“I'm sorry,” said Jack, almost pleading.
“Like I said,” rasped Ianto. “You'll be more than sorry.”
With that, he stalked towards Jack, clutched him once more by the arms and bodily moved him towards the desk. Jack gasped and whimpered slightly, but otherwise allowed Ianto to roughly manoeuvre him.
“What are you gonna do?” asked Jack, his voice higher than usual.
Ianto responded by pushing Jack into the desk. With one firm hand, he forced Jack to bend over it.
“Down,” he barked. Jack leaned with his weight on his forearms, fairly sure now what was coming, but mortified he'd pushed Ianto this far. He buried his face into his arms with shame.
Ianto kept his hand on Jack's back and pinned Jack into the desk with his leg. He raised his other hand, then brought it down with a thwack across the seat of Jack's trousers.
Jack gasped but had no time to recover. Ianto smacked him a second time. Then again and again and again, each time with more force. It was a relentless fusillade. He fell into a rhythm and kept Jack in place, thrashing Jack's backside with the palm of his hand.
Jack sobbed into the desk, determined to stay still for Ianto but fighting his body's instincts to wriggle out of the way. He'd broken their trust, and would do anything to repair that. He cried out as the spanking continued.
Ianto's whole hand throbbed and stung but he wouldn't stop. He needed Jack to feel how much it hurt. He whacked him over and over, keeping him in place by pressing against him. He was almost panting. He laid one incredibly hard spank on Jack's backside, knowing this was the only place he could hit Jack without his lecture about keeping him from harm becoming ironic. He paused for a moment on hearing Jack cry out.
“You've bloody well earned this, Jack,” growled Ianto.
“I know,” said Jack weakly.
Ianto smacked him again, then tugged down his trousers. Jack instinctively moved his hand to protect his bottom, but it was slapped out of the way shortly before his underpants were also tugged down.
“No...” whimpered Jack. “I'm sorry.” He squirmed beneath Ianto. But it had no effect.
Ianto smacked his hand over and over into Jack's pink buttocks, as he started to scold. “We talked about this!” hissed Ianto. “What if that was it? What if you actually died for a fucking wrist strap?”
He landed a succession of very hard spanks onto Jack's bottom and Jack started to cry properly. “For a wrist strap!” shouted Ianto angrily, not letting up. He slapped Jack again and again. Somewhere inside he knew that if Jack wanted to, he would stop him. Somewhere inside he knew that Jack knew this as well. They both fully understood that this needed to happen for both of them.
Jack did his best to stay still and accept the onslaught, knowing he'd earned it, hoping it would be a way for Ianto to forgive him. Still, shame swirled inside his stomach. He'd made Ianto so angry, so disappointed, after trying so hard to keep his promise. His palms clung to the smooth surface of his desk. He kept his face buried in his forearms, his sweat mingling with his tears and his cries muffled.
Ianto was swinging his hand into Jack's backside with full strength now. Jack couldn't help but wriggle out of the way, shouting out in pain. Ianto paused for breath and landed a sharp smack on the back of Jack's leg.
“Ow!”
“Stay still,” commanded Ianto severely.
“Sorry...I'm sorry...” Jack cried and panted into the desk. His shoulders shook as he tried to keep his lower body still. Ianto laid another few smacks on the now red behind. Aware of Jack's distress, he slowed his pace slightly, giving him time between each stinging slap to pay more attention to his scolding words.
“You told me you wouldn't do that. You cannot do that, Jack! You are too valuable! Do you understand?”
Jack responded only in hitched breaths and sobs. Ianto smacked him hard, three times in a row.
“Ow!” screamed Jack. “Yes! I understand. Ow...”
“You're too valuable to us all, Jack!” continued Ianto sternly. “Especially to me.” He paused. A wash of emotion hit him and he felt tears prick his eyes. He gave Jack one last stinging swat, then sat on the desk next to his wayward boss, catching his breath. He stroked Jack's hair as he watched him shudder with tears.
For a while there was nothing but the sound of Jack crying softly. Ianto could still feel his heart pounding in his chest as he ignored the doubts and fears of what he'd just done. Jack seemed to calm down. He had stayed exactly where Ianto had put him, still bent over the desk. There was only the occasional sniff now, coupled with Jack shifting his weight from foot to foot.
“It's over now,” said Ianto softly. “I'm done beating you.”
Jack snorted. He looked up, his face red and tear stained. “I deserve more than that,” he croaked.
“No you don't,” said Ianto, still stroking his hair. “I'll be the judge of what you deserve for the time being, Jack. Because you keep getting it wrong.”
Jack's lip trembled and he tried to hide his face again, but Ianto gently pulled his chin towards him and kissed him. “You're coming to bed with me now,” he stated.
Jack stood up gingerly. Ianto smiled fondly and helped Jack step out of his clothes. “Leave them there,” he told him. “They can be a reminder for you in the morning.”
Jack, now naked but for his white undershirt, let Ianto lead him by the hand down through the hatch and into bed.
They lay as they usually did, Ianto spooning Jack, giving him perfect access to Jack's neck which he nuzzled tenderly. Jack relaxed into Ianto, the sting of his hot bottom still a vivid reminder. But he didn't mind. It was the best reminder. He wasn't alone. As he drifted off to sleep, memories of the Boeshane Peninsula filled his mind. The sunshine and the sand. He remembered a time, long since forgotten, where he'd wandered off, much against his parents' wishes. Determined to prove he was a man, at the tender age of 10 years old, he'd stubbornly continued along a dangerous, winding cliff path with the sunlight diminishing. Not wishing to prove his parents right, he'd ignored his own instincts to turn back. Five hours later, he was returned unharmed, just a little cold and scared, to his unhappy parents in the dead of night by the stern leader of a search party.
Jack smiled softly into his slumber, as the faces of his parents floated before him. The relief, the love, then the fury. He recalled the feel of his mother's hands on him as she'd hauled him up the stairs to his bedroom. He hadn't been frightened. He'd known he was in trouble, that he would be punished, but he was no longer alone, in danger, in the dark. He remembered how he'd had the sense to stay still and wait to be found, all the while wondering if he'd survive the night and ever see his mother again. Now here she was, threatening him with never letting him out of her sight again. Even as she'd flung him over her knee and given him the worst spanking of his life, he'd cried with relief, not pain. With every stinging swat he'd felt nothing but reassurance, along with the shame of causing her distress, and had melted into her firm discipline and love.
Those feelings and sensations now filled him up, familiar comfort making him almost weightless in Ianto's arms. Finally, with Ianto's warm breath on his neck, he fell into the best night's sleep he'd had in years. Peace, now. Peace.
Pairing: Jack/Ianto,
Ratings: Adult - language, spanking
Spoilers: General Series 1 and 2
Summary: Ianto has to help Jack re-discover his sense of self preservation after Jack repeatedly displays a troubling disregard for his own well being. Moderate angst. Intervention. Unconditional love.
Disclaimers: I own nothing!
Notes: Set near the end of season 2. Comments please!
A third consecutive night of weevil hunting. It was almost a dance at this point. The two of them had their routine down. Jack dodged a particularly vicious weevil whilst Ianto took aim and sprayed a good dose of the repellent.
“Don't get too close!” yelled Jack as Ianto barely got out of the way in time.
“You neither,” ordered Ianto. He leapt back out of harm's way as Jack hooded two of them in one go. Together they bundled the now submissive weevils into the SUV.
“I can come back. You can't,” spat Jack angrily and he gave one of the weevils a shove. They both turned around in time to block a third weevil from tearing at them. Two well aimed kicks dropped it to the ground and Ianto released the rest of the spray into its face.
“Gotcha!” he declared, helping Jack throw number three in the SUV and slamming the doors.
Jack made to move away but Ianto stopped him with a firm hand on his shoulder. “Just because you can die and come back doesn't mean you have to kill yourself every five minutes, Jack.”
Jack froze. He turned to look at Ianto in the face, utterly obstinate. “It's what I do,” he said simply, before turning and getting into the driver's seat.
Ianto fumed inwardly. Jack had been more and more reckless lately. As if he was numb to the pain of being torn apart. But Ianto wasn't numb. And it had been a long time since he'd seen Jack smile. They drove home in silence; Jack sulking, Ianto glaring.
--
Later that night, they lay silently in bed. Ianto spooned Jack from behind, occasionally kissing his neck. He was at an absolute loss for what to say. But he decided to try.
“Jack,” he whispered.
“Mm?” Jack replied.
“How many times have you died?”
“Countless,” said Jack, still with his eyes closed.
Ianto kissed his neck again. “So you have absolute confidence, do you, that every time you die, you will come back?”
Jack squirmed in his arms and scowled into the pillow. “Yes,” he answered tersely. Ianto tensed and pushed himself up on his elbow to study Jack's face.
“I don't believe you,” he said steadily. Jack opened his eyes and looked up at Ianto, before slowly sitting up.
“You don't believe me?” He spoke dangerously. Ianto swallowed and summoned all of his courage to stick with his challenge.
“No,” he said softly, but his eyes bore into Jack's with severity. He watched Jack grow pale and braced himself for what would surely become a very unpleasant exchange.
“You don't believe me.” Not a question this time. Jack glowered at Ianto. “I've died of thirst, of hunger, been shot, tortured, torn apart, blown to pieces, injected, suffocated...”
“I know!” bellowed Ianto, shocking them both. His voice reverberated around the Hub, even from within the hatch. He thought fast. “I know, Jack,” he said. “But you still have no idea how, or why. You don't know for sure that you will come back. Do you?”
Jack was trembling. Ianto felt his mouth go dry. He'd never seen Jack so angry, at least not with him.
“Do you?” he prompted bravely.
Jack glared white hot anger at Ianto, but could find no words. He shifted back down in the bed and curled up as before. “I always come back,” he muttered.
Ianto stared at him for a while before doing the same. He spooned Jack and held him closer than before. He placed a kiss to his neck one last time before going to sleep.
--
A Sunday morning. It had been a quiet weekend so far. Ianto walked over to Jack with two cups of his very best coffee.
“Here you go,” he chirped. Jack sighed contentedly and winked at Ianto. They both sat on the Torchwood sofa, Jack with a paper in his hand.
“Seven down,” he said. “A bear's lair.”
“Cave?” ventured Ianto.
“Three letters,” said Jack.
“Den,” said Ianto happily.
“There's my clever boy,” said Jack, kissing Ianto on the forehead.
“There's my grumpy bear,” retorted Ianto.
Jack frowned. “I'm not grumpy,” he said, grumpily.
Ianto smiled to himself and sipped his coffee. “Good job or I'd confine you to your den for the day.”
Jack pouted and stirred his drink. Ianto studied him. He seemed paler than usual. Tired. Strangely heavy.
“Jack?” started Ianto.
“What?” replied Jack curtly, looking away.
Ianto took a deep breath. “What's wrong with you?”
Finally, Jack met his eyes. “Nothing,” he said firmly.
“Bullshit,” said Ianto pleasantly. “And you're not getting away with it.”
“What?” said Jack, quite puzzled.
Ianto rose and stood in front of Jack. “Something is wrong with you. You're unhappy. You've been through shit like all of us, except 100 times more than all of us. I think you're depressed.”
Jack scowled. “I'm not depressed. I just don't feel like...” He trailed off.
“Like what?” asked Ianto. “Don't feel like... anything? Name one thing you feel like doing today.”
Silence. Jack put his coffee down and folded his arms across his chest, valiantly sullen.
“One thing, Jack,” continued Ianto. “A meal? Drive in the country? Watch a film? Go for a walk?”
Jack glared at Ianto but said nothing.
“Okay,” said Ianto. “I admit, those things aren't particularly inspiring for a superhero. How about one thing you'd like to do to me.”
Jack raised an eyebrow, but his expression was one of spite. “You really wanna know?” he asked dangerously.
Ianto took a step closer to him and Jack saw that he meant business. He dropped his eye line to avoid Ianto's glower. Ianto put his hands on his hips.
“What's the matter, Jack?” he asked. “Don't wanna kiss me? Fuck me? You usually can't keep your hands off me...”
“...not in the mood,” sneered Jack.
“Do you wanna hit me?” asked Ianto simply.
It jolted Jack out of his reverie. He looked up at Ianto with surprise, then shifted in his seat. “Of course not. How can you ask me that?”
Ianto felt relieved. Not because he thought for one moment that Jack did want to hit him, but because he finally seemed to have touched a nerve.
“I'm sure I must be irritating you,” said Ianto. “Asking you all kinds of questions you clearly don't want to answer.”
“Doesn't mean I'm going to hit you, does it?”
“But you do,” replied Ianto gently. “Every time you die.”
Jack stared at Ianto, wide eyed, mouth open. “What?”
“Every time you die, Jack, like a punch in the gut. I never know if you're coming back. Not really for sure. I lose you every time. It hurts like hell. And yet, lately, it's like you do it as soon as comb your hair.”
Jack blinked, feeling a rush of shame inside of him. “I always come back,” he muttered again.
“What if you don't?” said Ianto, his voiced raised. “What if the Universe is waiting for you to be as cavalier and arrogant as possible, so you no longer revere death. What if the next time is it?”
“But it never is!” Jack was suddenly on his feet yelling. “I never stay dead! No matter what I do!”
The air was thick between them.
“So I was right,” said Ianto, his voice laden with sorrow. “You have been trying to kill yourself.”
--
“I wouldn't do that,” said Jack quietly. They were sitting together again. Ianto stared into space, tears in his eyes, as Jack tried his best to explain. “If I honestly thought I was going to stay dead, I wouldn't...”
“So it's self harm, then. What you're doing.”
Jack frowned. Self harm. Is that what it is? “I don't know, Ianto,” he replied indignantly. “I'm just getting through the day here.”
“You've given up. You let yourself be torn apart by weevils because it doesn't matter anymore. You deserve all the pain the world has to give you.”
Jack stood abruptly. “Stop this crap, Ianto! I'm just doing my job.”
Ianto leapt to his feet and grabbed Jack by his upper arms. “No! You listen to me. You're punishing yourself because you think you deserve it. But you don't, Jack. You deserve to happy like anyone else.”
Jack wriggled but didn't put up much of a fight. Ianto increased his grip, shaking him slightly. “You deserve to come home without bruises, without cuts, without bloodstained clothes,” chided Ianto. “You deserve to come home to love and acceptance for what you are and what you do.”
“You're not accepting me right now,” hissed Jack, making more of an effort to break away from Ianto's hold.
“I accept everything that you are!” yelled Ianto, this time giving Jack a proper shake. “But I will not stand by and allow you to harm yourself.”
“I don't stay harmed!” Jack shouted back.
“Yes you do!” Ianto positively screamed into Jack's face. “Internally, Jack. Inside. You're full of scars. I can see them!”
Jack's face crumpled. He struggled to get free from Ianto but Ianto pulled him in tighter and held him with all his strength. Jack gave in. Finally feeling safe in those arms, he allowed himself to break down and cry.
--
“So these are the rules,” announced Ianto. “You live like a human being, not a superhero. If you happen to die in the line of duty, then we thank all the angels in heaven that you can come back... if you do come back, that is.”
Jack was sitting once more on the sofa later that same night. After a good deal of comforting and conversation, he was feeling a lot better. But Ianto was giving him one hell of a lecture.
Ianto continued, “If I discover that you brought about your own death for some other reason, such as getting out of trouble, showing off or because you couldn't be bothered to protect yourself, I shall...”
“You'll what?” asked Jack with a grin.
Ianto narrowed his eyes and Jack's grin disappeared. “I shall make you think you have stayed dead and you are now in Hell,” he stated dangerously.
Jack swallowed. “But...”
“No buts,” scolded Ianto. “You never know when this thing will wear off. Each time you die, that could be it. And then what will I do? What will the world do without you? It's time to stop being reckless.”
He was right of course. Jack shrugged into the sofa sheepishly. “Sorry,” he said sweetly.
“You'll be more than sorry,” said Ianto, pointing a finger at Jack. But he couldn't stay stern once Jack was being compliant. He sat back down next to him and kissed him tenderly.
--
It was a month later. Jack had certainly regained a spring in his step, though the darkness weighed him down so much of the time. He hadn't died once. There was something in the thrill of knowing that if he came home completely in tact, he'd be making someone happy. So he worked harder at outstepping the weevils, rather than allowing them to rip him to pieces as some macabre decoy.
Ianto still kept a close eye on him. He wrote endlessly in his diary about the burden this man had to carry. He was after all, just a man. He wrote of his anger at the Doctor for leaving Jack this way, and pondered finding the man with the blue box himself. Then he wrote of his pride, because Jack was doing so much to do his best for the world. Ianto also wrote of how he would reward Jack, though he blushed as he recounted those experiences.
It was mid afternoon. Ianto had been taking care of various housekeeping duties and monitoring rift spikes. He was alone in the Hub, with everyone out and about taking care of their respective projects. Jack had been visiting Flat Holm Island earlier that day and was due back any minute.
The phone rang.
“Detective Swanson!” greeted Ianto cheerfully. “How can I help you?”
“We have your Captain,” said the detective. “And I'm sorry. But he's dead.”
--
Ianto walked hurriedly along the dark corridor towards the morgue. The officer with him tried to explain. “There were two witnesses on the boat. One of them says he fell, the other says he jumped.”
“Why would he do that?” asked Ianto curtly.
“Well, the second witness saw another man on the boat who had something Jack wanted. Apparently this mysterious object was thrown into the sea and Jack dived in after it.”
“What was it?”
The officer handed Ianto a clear plastic bag. It contained Jack's wrist strap. “The same witness says this man pick pocketed Jack, but we never found him.”
Ianto scowled at the wrist strap. Jack had drowned for this?
The officer shook his head. “Terrible. People just don't think. He must have gone in right after it, but that coat would have pulled him right down.”
“Thanks,” said Ianto, effectively dismissing the officer. He entered the morgue alone.
The room felt like death. Ianto slowly approached the bed, recognizing the body of Jack just from its size and shape. But Jack was still.
Ianto breathed deeply and prayed with everything he had that this wasn't it. That's Jack's luck hadn't run out. He stretched out his hand and pulled the sheet back. There was Jack, white, deathly, still. He leant in and spoke softly. “It's me. Wake up.”
There was no response. Battling the panic, Ianto breathed deeply once again. “Jack,” he said harshly, wake up. Now.”
A sudden intake of breath. He was alive.
Ianto almost fainted with relief. They looked at each other, and without saying a word, went right into action. Jack got up and retrieved his clothes which had been bagged up, whilst Ianto kept watch.
“Now,” said Ianto. They crept up the corridor and were almost out of the department when the same officer approached. Jack ducked behind a plant.
“All okay?” asked the officer.
“Fine. I'll be arranging to collect his body later today,” spoke Ianto, acting mournful.
“Right you are,” replied the officer. “Sorry for your loss, mate.”
Ianto nodded. The officer stepped away and Jack used Ianto to hide behind until they got out of the building and into the car.
The car doors slammed closed and they both sighed with deep relief. Turning to look at each other, they smiled softly. But it didn't last. Ianto held up the plastic bag with Jack's wrist strap.
“This is what you died for, Jack,” he said quietly.
“I came back,” said Jack. But he knew it was futile. Ianto started the car and took them home.
--
Jack had showered. He stepped into some lose fitting trousers, allowing the braces to swing by his side. It was early evening so he made do with his under shirt and made his way to see Ianto. He had let him down. He knew it.
He stepped into the office. Ianto was at his desk, scribbling some information down.
“Are you the boss now?” asked Jack, trying to break the tension.
“Yep.”
Jack put his hands in his pockets and waited for Ianto to finish what he was doing. It happened quickly. Ianto placed a form in the desk drawer and slammed it shut. Jack flinched. He watched Ianto come and stand in front of the desk, folding his arms.
“Okay, Jack,” said Ianto calmly. “Tell me what happened. I want the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Clear?”
“Yeah,” said Jack before taking a deep breath. He forced himself to look Ianto in the eye. “Everything was going fine on the island. One of the rift victims, Charlie, needed specialist medical attention so he, a nurse and two porters were on the boat back with me. Only, one of porters was actually just some guy who'd stowed onto the boat.”
Ianto listened carefully, watching Jack for any signs of being untruthful.
“Then Charlie flipped out for no reason and there was a lot of confusion as we tried to calm him down. I was holding him, not paying attention to who or what was touching me. When I stood up, I realized my wrist strap was gone.”
“Okay,” said Ianto. “So what did you do?”
“I looked around and I saw one of the porters looking a little suspicious, so I went over to him. He panicked and threw the strap to some other guy who was working with him. I ran over to him, he threw it back, only he was a sucky throw and it landed in the drink.”
Jack was getting angry as he recounted his story.
“Then what?”
Jack shifted on his feet and glared at Ianto, sensing his story might not be what Ianto wanted to hear. “I jumped in after it.”
“Fully clothed?” enquired Ianto.
“Yes. There wasn't time...” Jack trailed off and hung his head. The silence around him was almost painful.
Finally, Ianto spoke. “You must have known you would die,” he said evenly. “Your coat alone would have dragged you down.”
“I didn't...”
“Jack,” warned Ianto. “Did you or did you not know that you would most probably die in retrieving your wrist strap?”
Jack felt sick. His heart pounded. “I knew,” he answered in a small voice. He glanced at Ianto, who seemed to be rigid with fury. “But I need that wrist strap, Ianto!” he spoke desperately. “It's my only link to my past. The only thing I have that...”
“Be quiet.” When Ianto spoke, his voice was low and gravelly. Jack immediately fell silent as Ianto continued. “You told me yourself it's redundant. Sentimental value, I'm sure. But not worth risking your life.”
Jack felt himself tremble. Why was he afraid? How could he be afraid of Ianto? He was much stronger. He was the boss. But somehow, Jack felt compelled to stay still and take whatever was coming.
“How could you be so stupid?” yelled Ianto.
“I'm sorry,” said Jack, almost pleading.
“Like I said,” rasped Ianto. “You'll be more than sorry.”
With that, he stalked towards Jack, clutched him once more by the arms and bodily moved him towards the desk. Jack gasped and whimpered slightly, but otherwise allowed Ianto to roughly manoeuvre him.
“What are you gonna do?” asked Jack, his voice higher than usual.
Ianto responded by pushing Jack into the desk. With one firm hand, he forced Jack to bend over it.
“Down,” he barked. Jack leaned with his weight on his forearms, fairly sure now what was coming, but mortified he'd pushed Ianto this far. He buried his face into his arms with shame.
Ianto kept his hand on Jack's back and pinned Jack into the desk with his leg. He raised his other hand, then brought it down with a thwack across the seat of Jack's trousers.
Jack gasped but had no time to recover. Ianto smacked him a second time. Then again and again and again, each time with more force. It was a relentless fusillade. He fell into a rhythm and kept Jack in place, thrashing Jack's backside with the palm of his hand.
Jack sobbed into the desk, determined to stay still for Ianto but fighting his body's instincts to wriggle out of the way. He'd broken their trust, and would do anything to repair that. He cried out as the spanking continued.
Ianto's whole hand throbbed and stung but he wouldn't stop. He needed Jack to feel how much it hurt. He whacked him over and over, keeping him in place by pressing against him. He was almost panting. He laid one incredibly hard spank on Jack's backside, knowing this was the only place he could hit Jack without his lecture about keeping him from harm becoming ironic. He paused for a moment on hearing Jack cry out.
“You've bloody well earned this, Jack,” growled Ianto.
“I know,” said Jack weakly.
Ianto smacked him again, then tugged down his trousers. Jack instinctively moved his hand to protect his bottom, but it was slapped out of the way shortly before his underpants were also tugged down.
“No...” whimpered Jack. “I'm sorry.” He squirmed beneath Ianto. But it had no effect.
Ianto smacked his hand over and over into Jack's pink buttocks, as he started to scold. “We talked about this!” hissed Ianto. “What if that was it? What if you actually died for a fucking wrist strap?”
He landed a succession of very hard spanks onto Jack's bottom and Jack started to cry properly. “For a wrist strap!” shouted Ianto angrily, not letting up. He slapped Jack again and again. Somewhere inside he knew that if Jack wanted to, he would stop him. Somewhere inside he knew that Jack knew this as well. They both fully understood that this needed to happen for both of them.
Jack did his best to stay still and accept the onslaught, knowing he'd earned it, hoping it would be a way for Ianto to forgive him. Still, shame swirled inside his stomach. He'd made Ianto so angry, so disappointed, after trying so hard to keep his promise. His palms clung to the smooth surface of his desk. He kept his face buried in his forearms, his sweat mingling with his tears and his cries muffled.
Ianto was swinging his hand into Jack's backside with full strength now. Jack couldn't help but wriggle out of the way, shouting out in pain. Ianto paused for breath and landed a sharp smack on the back of Jack's leg.
“Ow!”
“Stay still,” commanded Ianto severely.
“Sorry...I'm sorry...” Jack cried and panted into the desk. His shoulders shook as he tried to keep his lower body still. Ianto laid another few smacks on the now red behind. Aware of Jack's distress, he slowed his pace slightly, giving him time between each stinging slap to pay more attention to his scolding words.
“You told me you wouldn't do that. You cannot do that, Jack! You are too valuable! Do you understand?”
Jack responded only in hitched breaths and sobs. Ianto smacked him hard, three times in a row.
“Ow!” screamed Jack. “Yes! I understand. Ow...”
“You're too valuable to us all, Jack!” continued Ianto sternly. “Especially to me.” He paused. A wash of emotion hit him and he felt tears prick his eyes. He gave Jack one last stinging swat, then sat on the desk next to his wayward boss, catching his breath. He stroked Jack's hair as he watched him shudder with tears.
For a while there was nothing but the sound of Jack crying softly. Ianto could still feel his heart pounding in his chest as he ignored the doubts and fears of what he'd just done. Jack seemed to calm down. He had stayed exactly where Ianto had put him, still bent over the desk. There was only the occasional sniff now, coupled with Jack shifting his weight from foot to foot.
“It's over now,” said Ianto softly. “I'm done beating you.”
Jack snorted. He looked up, his face red and tear stained. “I deserve more than that,” he croaked.
“No you don't,” said Ianto, still stroking his hair. “I'll be the judge of what you deserve for the time being, Jack. Because you keep getting it wrong.”
Jack's lip trembled and he tried to hide his face again, but Ianto gently pulled his chin towards him and kissed him. “You're coming to bed with me now,” he stated.
Jack stood up gingerly. Ianto smiled fondly and helped Jack step out of his clothes. “Leave them there,” he told him. “They can be a reminder for you in the morning.”
Jack, now naked but for his white undershirt, let Ianto lead him by the hand down through the hatch and into bed.
They lay as they usually did, Ianto spooning Jack, giving him perfect access to Jack's neck which he nuzzled tenderly. Jack relaxed into Ianto, the sting of his hot bottom still a vivid reminder. But he didn't mind. It was the best reminder. He wasn't alone. As he drifted off to sleep, memories of the Boeshane Peninsula filled his mind. The sunshine and the sand. He remembered a time, long since forgotten, where he'd wandered off, much against his parents' wishes. Determined to prove he was a man, at the tender age of 10 years old, he'd stubbornly continued along a dangerous, winding cliff path with the sunlight diminishing. Not wishing to prove his parents right, he'd ignored his own instincts to turn back. Five hours later, he was returned unharmed, just a little cold and scared, to his unhappy parents in the dead of night by the stern leader of a search party.
Jack smiled softly into his slumber, as the faces of his parents floated before him. The relief, the love, then the fury. He recalled the feel of his mother's hands on him as she'd hauled him up the stairs to his bedroom. He hadn't been frightened. He'd known he was in trouble, that he would be punished, but he was no longer alone, in danger, in the dark. He remembered how he'd had the sense to stay still and wait to be found, all the while wondering if he'd survive the night and ever see his mother again. Now here she was, threatening him with never letting him out of her sight again. Even as she'd flung him over her knee and given him the worst spanking of his life, he'd cried with relief, not pain. With every stinging swat he'd felt nothing but reassurance, along with the shame of causing her distress, and had melted into her firm discipline and love.
Those feelings and sensations now filled him up, familiar comfort making him almost weightless in Ianto's arms. Finally, with Ianto's warm breath on his neck, he fell into the best night's sleep he'd had in years. Peace, now. Peace.