Fic - Resistance
Title: Resistance
Characters: Jack/Ianto, mentions of others
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Even when the Earth is almost lost, some people will do whatever it takes to keep fighting.
A/N: For au_abc prompt Cyberpunk (prompt meanings listed behind the link). Betaed by 51stcenturyfox, with thanks.
Also, I should point out that this is an extract. A sample, if you will, of an entire AU. I hope that helps it make more sense alone.
At last Ianto got to the cog door, staggering into the main Hub as it rolled open silently.
“Ianto Jones,” Jack shouted, voice cracking. “Where the fuck have you been?”
The next thing Ianto knew he was being shoved back against the wall, Jack’s fists clenched on his shirt, and his mouth caught in a desperate kiss. Jack clutched at him like a drowning man, pressing their lips together again and again, and mumbling in between, “You’re three days late. I thought I’d lost you. What happened?”
Ianto grabbed Jack’s hair with his right hand and kissed him furiously for a moment, then fell back gasping.
“Ianto?” Jack croaked, eyes wide and panicked, and still not quite meeting Ianto’s gaze.
“Got hit,” Ianto told him, closing his eyes to make the Hub stop spinning. “All down the left. Systems failing.”
He gripped Jack’s shoulder for support, and felt his shirt shift as Jack unbuttoned it and pulled it aside to see the damage. Ianto kept his eyes closed. He already knew it was bad - after the drastic measures he’d had to take to stay alive and fighting, he was used to pain, but this was on a whole new level.
“Shit,” Jack breathed, then yanked Ianto’s right arm over his shoulders and grabbed his belt, hauling him up the stairs and down to the old autopsy room. He helped Ianto struggle onto the rusting gurney in the centre of the room, and Ianto collapsed back with a groan of relief.
“What’s worst?” Jack asked, pulling open drawers and digging out all of the tools he’d need.
“Heart,” Ianto told him, pulling himself up enough to look at the tattered scraps of synthetic skin across his chest, and staring in dizzy, fascinated revulsion at the struggling artificial organs on display under his metal ribs. “Gonna pass out.”
“You do that,” Jack told him. He peeled off the last of Ianto’s shirt and took a few sticky remnants of skin with it, exposing a couple of sparking wires. “Fuck. This is gonna be tricky.”
Ianto fell back with a grunt, and Jack pressed a little tablet to his lips, saying distantly, “Swallow this. I’ll make sure you come round when this isn’t gonna hurt any more.”
Ianto just managed to choke the pill down before everything went black.
:::::xxxxx:::::
Ianto blinked when he woke, expecting everything to be blurry in front of his eyes, but the world was crystal clear as always. He registered that he was in the Hub before he registered where in the Hub, and groped for Jack with his right hand.
“Hey,” Jack said close by, and his hand was clutched between two others. “You doing okay?”
“I can breathe,” Ianto said, turning his head to find Jack seated beside him. “That’s an improvement on the last time I was conscious.”
“Yep,” agreed Jack, stroking his hand and smiling. Ianto watched his eyes for a few seconds, knowing that Jack was focusing on his mouth.
“So. Damage report. How bad am I?”
Jack shook his head. “Your lung lost integrity and your heart was overloading, but you’re okay now. Patched up as best I can manage. You should probably get the others to take a look at you, though. Leaving it to me is like using duct tape when you should be welding.”
“Good job, Macgyver,” Ianto teased, drawing a chuckle from Jack. “Help me up?”
Jack let Ianto lean on him as he eased himself to his feet, and Ianto took the opportunity to slide his arm around Jack’s shoulders and hug him tight. He’d got used to making the most of what physical contact he could get, these days.
“Sorry,” he said. “I made us break the routine.”
“What, you mean the old, Thank god you’re back, let’s hit the sack?” Jack asked, grinning, and Ianto laughed into his shoulder.
“How many times, sir? Leave the rhymes to me.”
Jack smiled like it pained him, and Ianto sighed.
“Jack. If you ever... find someone else... If you don’t need me...”
“Not gonna happen,” Jack cut in sharply. “I’m gonna need you for as long as you live. Probably longer.”
“I’d better do my best to last as long as possible, then,” Ianto said quietly. “But if I’m ever in the way, you’ll tell me?”
“You couldn’t be.”
Ianto smiled at the glare Jack gave him, and gently kissed his lips. “I’ll keep fighting until you tell me otherwise,” he promised. “It’s just... sometimes it feels like it would be easier to give up.”
“I know,” Jack murmured, wrapping an arm around his waist and pulling Ianto’s head down to his shoulder. “I know. Please, keep fighting.”
“I found Gwen,” Ianto whispered, after a moment. He felt Jack tense instantly. “That’s how this happened. I was too late. I tried to get her out, but they’d been working on her for months - she didn’t make it. But I don’t think she talked.”
“Of course she didn’t,” Jack said firmly, squeezing him tighter. “She never would.”
“I couldn’t save her,” Ianto began, but Jack cut him off with a kiss.
Ianto let Jack put his mouth to better use, struggling not to think about all the people he’d failed. Jack took his head between both hands and kissed him thoroughly, then murmured, “Don’t dwell on it. You did what you could, it’s not your fault.”
Ianto nodded without opening his eyes, adding for himself what Jack wasn’t saying - they’d already mourned Gwen as dead ever since she’d been taken. Knowing it for certain, knowing she’d suffered, couldn’t add much to the grief they’d already been carrying.
He pulled back slightly when Jack started to tug him towards the stairs, saying, “Wait. I need to see this first.”
Jack stepped back from him, then nodded sharply and turned away.
“I’ll wait for you out here.”
Ianto bit his tongue and said nothing. He waited until Jack had left, then unbuttoned the faded pink shirt Jack had put him in, and gingerly extracted his left arm. He made himself look closely at the synthetic skin on his forearm, assuring himself that it was all repaired, then checked the real skin up to his shoulder. Jack had put a dressing over the worst grazes, and he moved on, forcing himself to look down at the mess that was his chest.
The left side of his ribcage - everything that had had to be replaced all those months ago - was still in tatters. Uncomfortably, he reached to his eyes and switched the settings.
The largest patch of skin was at the top of his ribs, and with the zoom on he could see it steadily growing downwards. There was a distinct line forming around his breastbone, where synthetic met real and completely failed to match. The difference in tone was even worse than the old skin had been, and he sighed again, watching his artificial lung deflate as he did.
He switched his eyes back to normal and pulled his shirt back on, carefully buttoning it up over his slowly repairing chest. Then he went to find Jack.
He was down in their bedroom, of course, lying back on the bed with both hands tucked under his head and his eyes open but distant. He didn’t move as Ianto clambered down the ladder and stepped onto the bed with him.
Ianto sat where he was, at the foot of the bed with the ladder at his back, and took his shoes and socks off. He dropped them over the side of the bed, then started undoing his trousers, frowning over a few rips he’d picked up along the way.
“I’m sorry,” Jack mumbled, and he looked up to find Jack watching his hands, a sad twist to his mouth.
Ianto stopped.
“Nothing that’s happened was your fault. You keep telling me not to blame myself for the state I’m in, so don’t you dare do it yourself.”
Jack scrambled to his knees and reached out to take his right hand.
“I love you. I still love you, Ianto, I always will. No matter what happens to you.”
Ianto squeezed his hand and looked down at their laced fingers so he wouldn’t have to see Jack avoiding his eyes. He kept his left hand out of the way as he pulled Jack forward and kissed him, then murmured, “Why don’t we try and get back in that routine?”
Jack grinned quickly against his mouth, perhaps a little too hastily, betraying his eagerness to change the subject.
“Okay, so how many did you get?”
“I deactivated fourteen,” Ianto told him, working his hand down to Jack’s belt, kissing his neck. “And I blew up another five.”
Jack made a sound somewhere between a growl and a purr, and told him, “I only got nine. And I died twice.”
“I think that means I win,” Ianto said smugly, and pushed him down to the mattress. Jack groped blindly at the chest of drawers beside the bed until he managed to get the top drawer open, and was rooting around in that when Ianto added softly, “If it’s all the same to you, I think I’ll keep my shirt on.”
Jack paused for a second, and Ianto tried to tell himself it wasn’t relief that flashed across Jack’s face as he gave a forced smile and nodded.
And he still couldn’t look at Ianto’s eyes.
Characters: Jack/Ianto, mentions of others
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Even when the Earth is almost lost, some people will do whatever it takes to keep fighting.
A/N: For au_abc prompt Cyberpunk (prompt meanings listed behind the link). Betaed by 51stcenturyfox, with thanks.
Also, I should point out that this is an extract. A sample, if you will, of an entire AU. I hope that helps it make more sense alone.
At last Ianto got to the cog door, staggering into the main Hub as it rolled open silently.
“Ianto Jones,” Jack shouted, voice cracking. “Where the fuck have you been?”
The next thing Ianto knew he was being shoved back against the wall, Jack’s fists clenched on his shirt, and his mouth caught in a desperate kiss. Jack clutched at him like a drowning man, pressing their lips together again and again, and mumbling in between, “You’re three days late. I thought I’d lost you. What happened?”
Ianto grabbed Jack’s hair with his right hand and kissed him furiously for a moment, then fell back gasping.
“Ianto?” Jack croaked, eyes wide and panicked, and still not quite meeting Ianto’s gaze.
“Got hit,” Ianto told him, closing his eyes to make the Hub stop spinning. “All down the left. Systems failing.”
He gripped Jack’s shoulder for support, and felt his shirt shift as Jack unbuttoned it and pulled it aside to see the damage. Ianto kept his eyes closed. He already knew it was bad - after the drastic measures he’d had to take to stay alive and fighting, he was used to pain, but this was on a whole new level.
“Shit,” Jack breathed, then yanked Ianto’s right arm over his shoulders and grabbed his belt, hauling him up the stairs and down to the old autopsy room. He helped Ianto struggle onto the rusting gurney in the centre of the room, and Ianto collapsed back with a groan of relief.
“What’s worst?” Jack asked, pulling open drawers and digging out all of the tools he’d need.
“Heart,” Ianto told him, pulling himself up enough to look at the tattered scraps of synthetic skin across his chest, and staring in dizzy, fascinated revulsion at the struggling artificial organs on display under his metal ribs. “Gonna pass out.”
“You do that,” Jack told him. He peeled off the last of Ianto’s shirt and took a few sticky remnants of skin with it, exposing a couple of sparking wires. “Fuck. This is gonna be tricky.”
Ianto fell back with a grunt, and Jack pressed a little tablet to his lips, saying distantly, “Swallow this. I’ll make sure you come round when this isn’t gonna hurt any more.”
Ianto just managed to choke the pill down before everything went black.
:::::xxxxx:::::
Ianto blinked when he woke, expecting everything to be blurry in front of his eyes, but the world was crystal clear as always. He registered that he was in the Hub before he registered where in the Hub, and groped for Jack with his right hand.
“Hey,” Jack said close by, and his hand was clutched between two others. “You doing okay?”
“I can breathe,” Ianto said, turning his head to find Jack seated beside him. “That’s an improvement on the last time I was conscious.”
“Yep,” agreed Jack, stroking his hand and smiling. Ianto watched his eyes for a few seconds, knowing that Jack was focusing on his mouth.
“So. Damage report. How bad am I?”
Jack shook his head. “Your lung lost integrity and your heart was overloading, but you’re okay now. Patched up as best I can manage. You should probably get the others to take a look at you, though. Leaving it to me is like using duct tape when you should be welding.”
“Good job, Macgyver,” Ianto teased, drawing a chuckle from Jack. “Help me up?”
Jack let Ianto lean on him as he eased himself to his feet, and Ianto took the opportunity to slide his arm around Jack’s shoulders and hug him tight. He’d got used to making the most of what physical contact he could get, these days.
“Sorry,” he said. “I made us break the routine.”
“What, you mean the old, Thank god you’re back, let’s hit the sack?” Jack asked, grinning, and Ianto laughed into his shoulder.
“How many times, sir? Leave the rhymes to me.”
Jack smiled like it pained him, and Ianto sighed.
“Jack. If you ever... find someone else... If you don’t need me...”
“Not gonna happen,” Jack cut in sharply. “I’m gonna need you for as long as you live. Probably longer.”
“I’d better do my best to last as long as possible, then,” Ianto said quietly. “But if I’m ever in the way, you’ll tell me?”
“You couldn’t be.”
Ianto smiled at the glare Jack gave him, and gently kissed his lips. “I’ll keep fighting until you tell me otherwise,” he promised. “It’s just... sometimes it feels like it would be easier to give up.”
“I know,” Jack murmured, wrapping an arm around his waist and pulling Ianto’s head down to his shoulder. “I know. Please, keep fighting.”
“I found Gwen,” Ianto whispered, after a moment. He felt Jack tense instantly. “That’s how this happened. I was too late. I tried to get her out, but they’d been working on her for months - she didn’t make it. But I don’t think she talked.”
“Of course she didn’t,” Jack said firmly, squeezing him tighter. “She never would.”
“I couldn’t save her,” Ianto began, but Jack cut him off with a kiss.
Ianto let Jack put his mouth to better use, struggling not to think about all the people he’d failed. Jack took his head between both hands and kissed him thoroughly, then murmured, “Don’t dwell on it. You did what you could, it’s not your fault.”
Ianto nodded without opening his eyes, adding for himself what Jack wasn’t saying - they’d already mourned Gwen as dead ever since she’d been taken. Knowing it for certain, knowing she’d suffered, couldn’t add much to the grief they’d already been carrying.
He pulled back slightly when Jack started to tug him towards the stairs, saying, “Wait. I need to see this first.”
Jack stepped back from him, then nodded sharply and turned away.
“I’ll wait for you out here.”
Ianto bit his tongue and said nothing. He waited until Jack had left, then unbuttoned the faded pink shirt Jack had put him in, and gingerly extracted his left arm. He made himself look closely at the synthetic skin on his forearm, assuring himself that it was all repaired, then checked the real skin up to his shoulder. Jack had put a dressing over the worst grazes, and he moved on, forcing himself to look down at the mess that was his chest.
The left side of his ribcage - everything that had had to be replaced all those months ago - was still in tatters. Uncomfortably, he reached to his eyes and switched the settings.
The largest patch of skin was at the top of his ribs, and with the zoom on he could see it steadily growing downwards. There was a distinct line forming around his breastbone, where synthetic met real and completely failed to match. The difference in tone was even worse than the old skin had been, and he sighed again, watching his artificial lung deflate as he did.
He switched his eyes back to normal and pulled his shirt back on, carefully buttoning it up over his slowly repairing chest. Then he went to find Jack.
He was down in their bedroom, of course, lying back on the bed with both hands tucked under his head and his eyes open but distant. He didn’t move as Ianto clambered down the ladder and stepped onto the bed with him.
Ianto sat where he was, at the foot of the bed with the ladder at his back, and took his shoes and socks off. He dropped them over the side of the bed, then started undoing his trousers, frowning over a few rips he’d picked up along the way.
“I’m sorry,” Jack mumbled, and he looked up to find Jack watching his hands, a sad twist to his mouth.
Ianto stopped.
“Nothing that’s happened was your fault. You keep telling me not to blame myself for the state I’m in, so don’t you dare do it yourself.”
Jack scrambled to his knees and reached out to take his right hand.
“I love you. I still love you, Ianto, I always will. No matter what happens to you.”
Ianto squeezed his hand and looked down at their laced fingers so he wouldn’t have to see Jack avoiding his eyes. He kept his left hand out of the way as he pulled Jack forward and kissed him, then murmured, “Why don’t we try and get back in that routine?”
Jack grinned quickly against his mouth, perhaps a little too hastily, betraying his eagerness to change the subject.
“Okay, so how many did you get?”
“I deactivated fourteen,” Ianto told him, working his hand down to Jack’s belt, kissing his neck. “And I blew up another five.”
Jack made a sound somewhere between a growl and a purr, and told him, “I only got nine. And I died twice.”
“I think that means I win,” Ianto said smugly, and pushed him down to the mattress. Jack groped blindly at the chest of drawers beside the bed until he managed to get the top drawer open, and was rooting around in that when Ianto added softly, “If it’s all the same to you, I think I’ll keep my shirt on.”
Jack paused for a second, and Ianto tried to tell himself it wasn’t relief that flashed across Jack’s face as he gave a forced smile and nodded.
And he still couldn’t look at Ianto’s eyes.