'Ianto can't breathe' - Post Exit Wounds fic.
Ianto can’t breathe. The pounding of the blood in his ears is deafening. Utter devastation. Blood and smoke and fire and metal. A scream. He stumbles. Lisa.
*
Ianto can’t breathe. He is on top of Harkness and he is laughing. Laughing like he hasn’t in months. He feels alive again, just for a moment. Right now there is no Lisa, no Canary Wharf, no survivor’s guilt, just him and Harkness, adrenaline and life.
*
Ianto can’t breathe. She’s gone. Really and truly. Not even the hollow shell left. Nothing to convince him that there might still be hope. Hope for her. Hope for them. Hope for him.
*
Ianto can’t breathe. The hand on his shoulder is hot. It burns through the fabric of his suit, sure and steady, and it says ‘acceptance’. Not quite forgiveness, but he thinks maybe acceptance is enough.
*
Ianto can’t breathe. It’s over. This is it. His final breath, his last thoughts, every muscle in his body tense, cold metal, bloody cleaver at his throat, he can’t scream, and oh God-
Jack. Jack brings life. He is the embodiment of it. And they are saved.
*
Ianto can’t breathe. What has he done? His heart is hammering inside his chest. So soon. Too soon. But not. He wants it. Why shouldn’t he? For once he is going to take what he wants. Grab it with both hands and refuse to let go. Everyone deserves one act of selfishness.
His eyes flick down. 7.38, 7.37, 7.36…
*
Ianto can’t breathe. He knows what must be done. Or rather, what cannot be done. He wants to scream at losing Jack. Scream and cry and curse the whole damn universe for being so fucking unfair. But he doesn’t. He stands strong. For Jack. He squeezes the trigger.
*
Ianto can’t breathe. Jack. Stone cold, dead Jack. Standing on the walkway. Pale and haunted (he squashes the stupid voice that chimes in ‘literally like death warmed up’. Hardly the appropriate moment. Though Jack’s a twisted bastard, so he’d probably laugh), but unmistakeably alive.
Need battles propriety before Jack decides for him. And he thinks maybe he could get used to the idea of a lover that would never leave you to pick up the pieces alone.
*
Ianto can’t breathe. The CCTV. Little blue box on the Plas. Him.
*
Ianto can’t breathe.
(I love you)
Time seems frozen. There’s only the two of them, eyes locked together.
(I love you)
He wants to run. He is so scared. Fucking terrified, truth be told. He knows what he’s doing. He’s reading between the lines. Treacherous heart blundering in without consulting his brain. His cool logic barely dared to hope, but he is shamelessly needy when it comes to those three words, so he calmly tells logic to go fuck itself.
(I love you)
A look, a pause, a beat for good measure, then:
(I love you, too)
*
Ianto can’t breathe. His breath would be a distraction. He has to concentrate so he can remember. He wants to feel every drop of life run out of her. He holds his breath with her. It makes that moment all the more exquisite, when she goes limp in his arms, to soothe the burn in his chest with the desperate gasp she’ll never take.
He had to know what she felt. It was a heady mix, the sensation of his own power alongside her helplessness. Knowing that he was her entire world in that moment gave him his rush. He was the most important thing that ever happened to her. He mattered.
*
Ianto can’t breathe. The pause feels like an eternity. He waits, breath bated. Finally their eye contact breaks and they register his presence. Then he is there, hand in Jack’s moving close with him. And it feels right, he thinks, like this is where he is supposed to be.
*
Ianto can’t breathe. His poor heart stutters. Shattered and shattered and stuck back together again. The tiny pieces jagged and fragile, fluttering beneath his ribcage as the glue comes unstuck.
Owen. Fucking, stupid, arrogant, magnificent Owen. The selfish bastard had died selflessly. Twice. Ianto always knew he had it in him. Even if he was a twat. He clings to the railings to stop himself reeling.
His lungs might burst, but he still can’t breathe, because Tosh. She looks tiny. How could someone so small bleed so much? How could they be allowed to? But then, he supposed, it made sense that such a big heart would hold such a lot of blood.
All that heart, desperately given. Thrust into the arms of anyone within reach. Now still.
His own races fast enough for the two of them.
*
Ianto can’t breathe. He swallows and swallows past the lump in his throat. No use. His eyes still burn.
Final logout procedure
DR OWEN HARPER
Are you sure you want to continue?
Yes No
No. God, no.
‘Yes’.
Final logout procedure
TOSHIKO SATO
Are you sure you want to continue?
Yes No
Oh, but it hurt.
‘Yes’.
He had promised himself he wouldn’t cry. He had cried so much. Wept and wept for the people he had lost and he couldn’t take another moment of it. It felt like just one more tear would be enough to finally drown him. Suffocated by the grief. So he held on tight and concentrated on the living, breathing, warmth of Jack behind him and let Tosh convince him, just for a second, that it really was ok.
*
Jack once told him, life isn’t about the breaths you take, it’s about the moments that take your breath away.