Fanfic - Counting Stars 17/17 [Torchwood: Jack/Ianto]
Thanks heaps to Areale, my ever-patient and ruthless beta-reader and cheerleader. This fic wouldn't be what it is without you and your abilities to cull sap.
Special shout-out to dd0206 for her insightful comments that always help me figure out if people are getting me.
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
Part Seven
Part Eight
Part Nine
Part Nine
Part Ten
Part Eleven
Part Twelve
Part Thirteen
Part Fourteen
Part Fifteen
Part Sixteen
The sedative had worn off.
The sedative had worn off and with all the time that keeping Tosh alive had taken, he’d forgotten to restrain Grey. He’d forgotten and now the best part of him was lying on the medical bay floor. Dead. Because of him.
Jack couldn’t even summon up the energy to be angry at John for instinctively shooting Grey. But Grey had succeeded at last, had fulfilled his promise to destroy Jack’s world and what was Jack going to do now, what could he possibly do?
What would I do without you, my Ianto?
Live. Remember how to be happy again.
What does it feel like?
Cold. Empty. Dark.
“Jack. Jack. Dammit Jack, snap out of it.”
“Jack, you have to let him go.”
“Ah come on, pretty girl, don’t get up. Oi, doc!”
“Tosh, stay down, are you trying to get yourself killed too?”
“Ian-to?”
“… He’s gone, all right. He’s gone and I’m not losing you too so lie down!”
“He can’t be, he can’t.”
“Jack, please, let him go, stand up.”
“Gwen, leave him. Get that… guy’s body out of here. Stick him in the morgue. You, help her.”
“Hey, I’m not -”
“Do it!”
“Fine, fine. Pushy.”
“Jack. This is going to break Jack.”
“He’s strong, pretty girl.”
“He can’t lose Ianto.”
“They’re that close?”
“Owen…”
“I’ll look after him. What the hell are you still standing here for? Go!”
“Yeah, all right, all right.”
“Tosh?”
“Didn’t you notice the rings?”
“… Rings?”
“They were so h-happy. A-and they only h-h-had a fe-few days -”
“They had longer than that, they’ve had all this while.”
“Not l-long enough.”
“Never is. Lie down, babe, try and stop crying. I’ll look after Jack.”
“Thank you…”
“Jack, hey. I know it hurts, but you think you can let go of him? … No? Okay. Dammit, I didn’t want to do this.”
He felt a prick in his arm and then slowly, slowly, the darkness started taking over his vision. The last things he saw were crystal-blue eyes and dark, tousled hair before he fell into unconsciousness.
He woke up quietly, eyes blinking open to stare at the ceiling. His mind reached out instinctively and found nothing there to touch. The ring was heavy and cold on his finger.
It took a long time for him to find the energy to get up. He was in the observation room off the medical bay, he noticed absently. Owen must have sedated him to get him away from - from -
He looked around the room. Empty, which was odd. Surely Tosh would have been here as well. She couldn’t have also - no, she couldn’t have.
He pushed the door open, slipping out silently. He stood there for a few moments, feeling unaccountably lost, before he started walking again. Gwen was asleep on the sofa, her face streaked with dried tears. Tosh was in a wheelchair, sitting with Owen as they talked quietly. They both startled at the sight of Jack walking by like a ghost.
“Jack -” Owen said hurriedly, getting to his feet. Jack moved past him, his feet unerringly bringing him to the morgue. The cryo-chamber. He looked at Owen, who sighed and opened up number 42.
And there he was, his face still and pale, his beautiful eyes closed. Jack reached again for his lover’s mind and again found nothing to hold, just that faint, vague echo where Ianto’s mind once had been. His knees gave out and he would have fallen if Owen hadn’t grabbed him and lowered him gently to the ground.
“I’ll get you a chair,” Owen said resignedly.
He let Owen get the chair and help him into it. He couldn’t take his eyes off Ianto, off that familiar face lying there under the protective shield. Dimly, he realised that Owen had brought Tosh down and that she had her hand on his. He let her hold it, unable to feel it, unable to feel much of anything at all.
It was John who finally got a response out of Jack, though he’d probably rather not have. He took one look at the furious expression on Jack’s face, felt his aching jaw (had Jack actually broken it?) and decided that discretion was the better part of valour. “I’m sorry,” he didn’t say as he teleported away, wishing that for once he’d been a little stronger.
Returning from the sharp edge of anger let Jack actually see his team for once. Let him see Owen’s defeated look, Tosh’s barely-suppressed grief, Gwen’s shell-shocked face. He swallowed hard and moved back to Tosh, taking her hand and squeezing it lightly.
“How are you?” he asked softly.
“What?” she asked in confusion.
“Your injury,” he said. “How is it?”
“F-fine,” she said, tearing up again. “Oh, Jack -”
He held her and let her cry into his shirt and wished that he could go back in time, just far enough to stop Grey from killing Ianto. To tell himself to shoot Grey, not sedate him. To tell himself that mercy was lost on Grey, that forgiving Grey without forgiving himself was ridiculous, that Grey would take away everything from him and that he had to stop it before it happened.
Maybe this was why the Doctor had disabled the time-travelling function of Jack’s wristband. If he’d had the opportunity, he honestly couldn’t say that he wouldn’t fuck up the timelines, just as long as he could get Ianto back.
Again, his mind reached out. Again, there was nothing save the soft, faded impression of Ianto’s mind. He couldn’t stop searching, as if immutable fact might change if he just pressed hard enough.
“It’ll be okay,” he murmured into Tosh’s hair, longing to believe what he was saying. “It’ll be okay.”
They left him alone after a while. Even Owen gave him a hug, which had to be indicative in some way of exactly how terrible he looked. He was grateful, in an abstract sort of fashion, for their support, but he still couldn’t help but feel relieved when they finally left him to his grief.
He stayed by Ianto’s side for a day, then two, then three, leaving his lover only to use the bathroom. Owen brought him food and water; he drank some of the water, but left the food untouched. On the Valiant, the Master had once tried starving him to death. He knew exactly how long he would last before dying, knew exactly what it would feel like. Some part of him was aware that Ianto would hate what he was doing to himself, but the rest of him desperately wanted to be hurt for letting Ianto die.
It was the least he deserved.
“He’s going to kill himself at this rate.”
Owen sighed and rubbed his eyes. “That’s the point, I think.” He looked around dully. This was the first time in days they’d been able to stop working for a bit. They’d been performing damage control on what John and Grey had unleashed on Cardiff, and without Jack there to help, they’d been run off their feet. Tosh had insisted on working from her computer at the very least, which took some of the pressure off them, but otherwise, he and Gwen had had to do everything themselves. (Terrorist attacks, of course, and some of them had been attacking people on the streets. Wearing costumes so they couldn’t be identified, don’t you know.) The fact that he couldn’t sleep any more was suddenly coming in very useful, Owen decided, trying not to think of the fact that Ianto was dead and Jack was on his way there. Again.
“We can’t just let him do that,” Gwen protested softly. “It’s not healthy.”
“You want to try and drag him away?” Owen asked. “I don’t think he’d deck you, exactly, not like he did with John, but -”
“He won’t go,” Tosh filled in. “He’d try not to hurt you, but he’d fight to stay.”
Gwen covered her face, trying to hold back the tears, hating the way she felt and the way it didn’t seem like she’d ever feel anything else. “I know,” she said, her voice muffled. Tosh reached up and patted her elbow comfortingly. Owen sat down next to Tosh and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into a loose embrace. He couldn’t feel her, not beyond a dull pressure, but it was somehow reassuring.
“I was thinking of slipping poison into his water,” he confessed in a low voice.
“Poison?” Tosh gasped.
“He’s trying to starve himself to death,” Owen said. “He’s drinking just enough water to make it a slow, painful one. At least if I poisoned him it’d be quick.”
“I think at one point I’d have protested against that on principle,” Gwen said quietly. “But - I think I see what you mean.”
“I just don’t know if I can,” Owen added. “I’ve shot him once - killed him. I don’t know if I can do it again, not even for this.”
“I don’t think I could, either,” Gwen admitted. Tosh nodded, watching the live footage from the security cameras down in the morgue.
“I didn’t get to give you nineteen,” Jack said suddenly, his voice hoarse. The others glanced at the feed in surprise; it was the first time since they’d left him that he’d spoken. “On the list. It said - ‘Reminds me why life’s worth living.” He fell silent, his hand pressed against cool glass as he looked at Ianto.
“I don’t know what you thought about the list,” he said after a moment. “Whether you thought I was just pulling out numbers at random and telling you why you were amazing. Whether you believed me. I think you did, after your birthday. I think I got you to see yourself the way I see you. But I actually did have a list, you know. I’m up to forty-two at the moment. Which is ironic in all sorts of ways. You’re laughing at that now, I just know it, in that quiet way of yours. That look you get in your eyes when you think we’re all being absolute idiots. Which is pretty frequent, really.”
Tosh tried very hard not to break down crying again, but it was difficult. Owen’s grip around her tightened, and Gwen sat down next to them and took her hand, holding it desperately.
“Forty-two,” Jack said slowly. “Is, ‘Knows everything!’ I thought it was appropriate, given your old nickname.” He smiled faintly, then abruptly reached around and pressed a button, the frosty barrier sliding back with a soft hiss. He leaned forward, taking Ianto’s hand in his and bringing it to his lips.
“We didn’t have long enough,” he whispered. “I never got to give you number one on the list, either. You know it, I know you do. I wish I’d said it though. You’re always telling me that words are your trade. I know you feel what I feel, but I still wish I’d said it.”
He exhaled heavily, laying his head down on Ianto’s chest. “It’s empty without you,” he said quietly. “I keep reaching out trying to find your mind. I don’t know why, it never changes. Just this vague echo of what your mind… should… be…”
His voice trailed off, sounding almost like he was voicing a question, and Tosh exchanged puzzled looks with the others. Then all three of them nearly jumped out of their skins when Jack suddenly surged to his feet.
“Oh god, I’m a fucking idiot,” he said, staring wide-eyed at Ianto. “No wonder it feels like this, no wonder it -” He broke off, bending to kiss Ianto’s lips.
“I know you’re going to hate this, sweetheart,” he said against his lips. “But if there’s any chance at all that I can at least say good-bye, I’m taking it.”
Owen leaped out of his chair, but he knew he wasn’t going to make it in time. The gun-shot echoed through the speakers and Tosh flinched violently, then gasped and held her stomach. Owen faltered and Gwen nodded to him, taking off for the morgue at a run.
“Hey, let me see,” Owen coaxed Tosh. Her jaw was clenched but she let him lift her shirt and inspect the injury. It didn’t seem like she’d torn her stitches, just pulled them painfully.
“Want something for the pain?” he asked her, but she shook her head.
“Not yet,” she said. “Get me down there, please?”
He kissed her forehead as he stood, then wheeled her down carefully. Gwen was already there by Jack’s body. She’d removed the gun and managed to push him onto his back.
“Dead when I got here,” she reported as Owen and Tosh entered.
“Well, it’s even quicker than poison,” Owen observed. “Wonder what set him off?”
“He said something about saying good-bye,” Tosh said hesitantly.
“Does he think he can actually - I don’t know - talk to Ianto?” Gwen asked with a touch of incredulity.
“Right now, doesn’t matter what he thinks,” Owen said. “What matters is helping him get past this.” He glanced between Jack and Ianto, then let go of Tosh’s wheelchair and went to close up Ianto’s cryo-chamber. He pushed the heavy door shut and leaned against it tiredly for a moment.
“It shouldn’t take too long, right?” Gwen asked, smoothing Jack’s vest down in an almost compulsive manner. “He’s come back from gunshots pretty quickly before.”
“Just a gunshot, maybe,” Owen said. “But he was half-starved before that, remember. Might take longer, who knows.”
“Ianto would,” Tosh said bitterly.
“Would he?” Gwen asked, looking down at Jack. She seemed to realise that her hand was still moving over Jack’s vest, and clenched it hard to make it stop.
“He would,” Tosh said. “He knew so much about Jack that we didn’t. Jack trusted him above anyone else.”
“Kind of funny, if you think about it,” Owen said quietly. “Given what he did before. And even more amazing that they managed to get past all that.”
“They were good together,” Tosh said. Gwen swallowed, looked at Jack’s face, then nodded slowly. It had taken her a while - and Ianto’s unexpected, violent death - to strip away the blinkers from her eyes, but they really had been good together.
And they hadn’t had nearly enough time.
What does it feel like?
Cold. Empty. Dark. It’s like you’re still there, but a distant, faint echo of what your mind should be.
“This is new.”
Jack looked around the pitch darkness. At least, he thought he was looking. He wasn’t entirely certain, seeing as it was too dark to see himself, or have any sense of movement. Maybe he didn’t have a body. That might explain things.
“You bloody idiot!”
“And that isn’t,” Jack said wryly. “Hello, Ianto. Guess it worked.”
“Worked? Of course it worked, you complete moron. What did you think you were doing? Really, you’d think that for someone who’s lived as long as you, you’d have more than two brain cells to rub together. Starving yourself, were you trying to find the one thing you could do that would piss me off most?”
“It would be a lot easier arguing with you if I could see you,” Jack observed. “In my defence, I wasn’t really thinking.”
“Of course you weren’t,” Ianto replied with a snort. “You really should try engaging your brain on occasion, would do wonders for you.”
“I love you too,” Jack said.
“Oh,” Ianto breathed, and Jack felt peculiarly warmed, as if someone had just hugged him. “I love you too. So much.”
“I can’t do this without you,” Jack murmured.
“You’ll have to learn, cariad,” Ianto said. “This is the only time we can do this. After this, I’ll be gone, and - wait, here - is this better?”
Jack blinked in the sudden light, and looked around. They were in - their bedroom, apparently. Ianto was on the bed, his knees drawn up to his chest.
Jack was on the bed and holding him before he could consciously think about it. “Where are we?” he managed after a while.
“My safe space,” Ianto said. “I don’t know if it’s because of the bond or something else, but I’ve been here and I - I don’t know, I was able to see you, hear you. Only you though, no one else. Nothing else.”
“I’m sorry,” Jack whispered, kissing Ianto’s brow. “I don’t know how to be without you, Yan. I don’t know if I can.”
“You can,” Ianto insisted, lying down on the bed and pulling Jack with him. Jack rolled over to cover his lover’s body protectively, bracketing Ianto’s face with his arms.
“I’ll survive,” Jack said.
“You’ll live,” Ianto replied. Jack shook his head mutely and hid his face in Ianto’s shoulder.
“You have to,” Ianto said.
“I love you,” Jack breathed against Ianto’s neck. “Always.”
Ianto shivered once, a full-body shudder that Jack felt all through his own body, then fell still. Jack pulled back a little, counting the movements of Ianto’s chest. Up, down. Up, down.
“I could come back with you,” Ianto said after a moment.
Jack thought that he should probably say something, but his tongue seemed to have forgotten how to work. So had his lungs, for that matter. If he had lungs. If this was just a mental manifestation of their physical bodies, did he even need to breathe?
“Focus, love,” Ianto said, smiling in amusement. Jack took a long, shuddering breath, then another, and another. He still couldn’t think of anything intelligent to say.
“I could come back with you,” Ianto said. “The bond would pull me back, if we let it. I could follow you back.”
“What’s the catch?” Jack whispered, his mouth dry. There was always a catch.
“We can’t undo it,” Ianto said, shrugging. “Whatever the side-effects, we’ll have to live with them.”
“Side-effects,” Jack repeated.
“Well, if I go back with you, we’ll essentially be sharing our life-forces,” Ianto said. “The rings will ground us, meld us.”
“Life-forces?” Jack asked, trying not to smile. “Really, Ianto?”
“It’s not a bloody romance novel,” Ianto said with a small scowl. “Look, there’re four ways this could go. One is that the bond isn’t strong enough to bring me back and so I die. For real, this time. Another is I come back as a one-time-only deal, but the bond won’t be able to stand up to another separation.”
“Wait,” Jack said slowly, something like dread slowly taking over his face. “Options three and four -”
“I continue to age more or less as normal,” Ianto said, “But if I die, then I’ll come back here and when you next die, you can find me here and bring me back again. That’s three.”
“What are the odds of each?” Jack demanded.
“Even across the board,” Ianto said. “I don’t think we’ll know which one we’ve got until we see some sort of symptoms. Like, if I get older, or if I’m killed again. Don’t you want to know what the fourth possibility is?”
“No,” Jack said adamantly. “No way.”
“It could happen,” Ianto said.
“I know!” Jack exclaimed. “I’m not doing that to you!”
“It’s only a twenty-five percent chance,” Ianto began.
“Any chance at all of that is too high of a chance,” Jack interrupted. “Besides - wait, how do you know all this?”
Ianto smiled crookedly at him. “It’s amazing what you learn when you die,” he said. It wasn’t an answer of any sort, but Jack put that aside for the moment.
“You can’t,” he said bluntly. “I’ve been through this a damn long time, and I know what it’s like. I’m not doing that to you.”
“What if I want it?” Ianto argued.
“You don’t,” Jack insisted. “Not really, not completely. You don’t know what you’re suggesting, Yan.”
“Jack,” Ianto said patiently. “My eyes are open. I know what I’m saying.”
“You don’t -” Jack began.
“Jack, I know,” Ianto said, tapping his head. “I’ve seen what it could be. What it will be. Good and bad, all possibilities.”
Once again, Jack found himself unable to speak. “Oh,” he said at last. “Then why -”
“I’ll be with you,” Ianto said simply, sitting up and looking at Jack with clear, determined eyes. “I’m terrified, Jack, I won’t deny that. But I want this.”
“Oh,” Jack said again. He really couldn’t think of anything else to say. How could he possibly condemn his Ianto to the same disease that afflicted him? Too high of a chance for something that could ruin him forever, forever, which was so much longer when one had to slowly crawl forward through every second of it, forever a freak in the eyes of all around you, far too high of a chance of that.
“You are not,” Ianto said, enunciating each word clearly. “A freak of nature.” His eyes flashed. “And if you so much as think that again, I will make you regret it.”
“… Not decaf,” Jack said weakly. Ianto couldn’t quite control the amused smile that slipped out.
“I’ll just deprive you of your coffee completely,” Ianto said. He slid over to Jack, wrapping his arms around his lover’s waist. “Let’s make this simple, shall we? I love you, Jack. I know what I might be sacrificing in doing this, and I want to do it anyway. But this will take both of us to carry out properly, to make it work, and so you’re going to have to want it as much as I do.”
He lifted his head and kissed Jack lingeringly. “It’s up to you, love,” he said tenderly. “I’ll abide by what you choose.”
“It’s been two days,” Gwen said, more to hear a human sound than because Owen and Tosh needed the obvious pointed out. “Why hasn’t he come back yet?”
“Who knows what goes on in that crazy skull of his?” Owen grumbled. He might not have needed sleep, strictly speaking, but that didn’t stop the sheer amount of work they had to do from driving him insane. Jack’s body lay on the sofa, where they’d left him so they could keep an eye on him while working.
“Phone’s ringing,” Tosh said tiredly. The three of them exchanged looks of dread, then Gwen slowly reached for the phone.
Jack bolted upright. Gwen shrieked and jumped, sending the phone flying. Owen cursed very fluently as Tosh clutched at her chest in shock. On the other end of the line, Detective Swanson spent a second in trying to figure out what the hell all the noise was supposed to mean, then carefully hung up. When it came to Torchwood, sometimes it was better not to ask.
“Ianto,” Jack gasped, his eyes wild. “Where’s Ianto?”
“Down in cryo,” Owen said, then swore again and dashed after Jack, who’d taken off at a remarkable speed.
“Gwen!” Tosh yelled, and Gwen screeched to a halt, returning to push Tosh’s wheelchair. They got there just in time to find that Jack had yanked Ianto’s drawer open again, and opened up the cryo-chamber completely. Owen was getting increasingly annoyed as he fired questions at Jack, who was ignoring him remarkably well.
“Jack, what’s going on?” Tosh cried as Gwen wheeled her into the room.
“A minute,” Jack whispered, eyes fixed on Ianto. “Come on, love, you can feel it, come back.”
“Jack…” Owen said slowly, taking a step back and staring at Jack like he was unhinged.
Then Ianto gasped to life, clutching at Jack who was babbling nonsense words of relief, and Owen wondered if maybe he didn’t need to get his own head checked.
Explanations took… a while.
There was the requisite disbelief, the warring between incredulity, suspicion, fear and tremendous joy. Eventually, though, they managed to convince the others that this really was Ianto, really was the same person they’d always known. Tosh burst into tears the moment Ianto pulled her into a hug.
“This is one of those times,” Owen lamented. “That I could really use a drink.”
“Don’t,” Jack said. “I don’t ever want to see projectile vomit again. That was disgusting.”
“So… is Ianto immortal now?” Gwen asked, watching as Ianto petted Tosh’s hair, murmuring into her ear.
“Don’t know,” Jack replied. Reflexively, he reached for Ianto’s mind, relaxing when he found the familiar presence there. Ianto curled through him even as he whispered to Tosh that it’ll be all right, let it go, it’s all right. “I hope not. Won’t find out until the - next - time, I guess.”
“This is going to take some getting used to,” Owen said.
“You’re telling me,” Jack snorted. He couldn’t seem to stop watching Ianto, couldn’t seem to stop drinking in every little movement, every minute change of expression. Cataloguing every detail that he adored was like counting stars, but he still - couldn’t - stop.
Tosh managed to get control of her emotions after a few minutes of clinging to Ianto. The moment Ianto stepped away, Jack was right up in his personal space, winding his fingers through Ianto’s as he kissed him.
Shower, then work? Ianto suggested.
Yeah, Jack said, nuzzling Ianto’s cheek. “Guys? I’m sorry I haven’t exactly been with it these past few days. Thanks for picking up the slack.” He smiled over Ianto’s shoulder at them. “Give us a few to get cleaned up and we’ll take over so you can get some rest, okay?”
“You don’t have to,” Gwen objected. “Take some time on your own, it’s fine.”
“Gwen,” Ianto broke in, laughter in his eyes. “We just spent - how long was Jack out?”
“Two days,” Tosh supplied.
“We just spent two days,” Ianto began, then stopped and frowned at Jack. “Wait, we spent two days arguing? You’re more stubborn than I thought.”
“Me!” Jack said indignantly. “You’re the one who was all ‘I’ll go with what you decide, Jack,’ and when I decided no, you started laying out all the reasons why I should change my mind!”
“Like I said,” Ianto said, nodding. “You were very stubborn.”
Jack growled at Ianto, who ignored him and turned to the others with a small smile. “We just spent two days arguing about how things would work out now,” he continued. “We’re good to go… as soon as I have a shower, anyway.”
Tosh choked out a watery laugh. “Okay,” she said before Gwen could argue any further. “You two take care then.”
“We’ve kind of been ignoring phone calls,” Gwen added slightly sheepishly. “So…”
“If one of you could just get the call records, I’ll handle those once we’re up,” Ianto said, nodding.
“And once we are,” Jack put in. “All of you are off duty.” His eyes softened as he took in his team - battered, exhausted and barely holding on. But they were still tenaciously clinging to hope, that was the important thing. “And thank you.”
Surprisingly, neither of them was inclined towards sex in the shower. Instead, they washed each other carefully, familiarising themselves with their physical bodies again and revelling in the chance to wash off days of accumulated grime. Ianto was a little better off than Jack, since he’d been cleaned up before being put in cryo, but he still felt disconcertingly dirty. In the end, they spent a little longer in the shower than they’d initially intended, but neither of them could feel sorry for it.
They emerged to get updates from the others about the state of Cardiff, then summarily packed them off to get some rest.
“Come on, Tosh,” Owen said, throwing his jacket on. “I’ll bring you home.”
“Thanks,” she said, then noticed Ianto’s raised eyebrow. She coloured slightly and nodded at him, then flushed even deeper when he smiled at her. At least something good had come out of her near-death, Ianto thought as he gave her a last hug.
“I’ll call when I want you in,” Jack said. “But it won’t be for a while yet. Rest up. Enjoy yourselves.”
“I don’t know if I can,” Gwen said suddenly, quietly. “All this - I don’t know if I can do this, Jack. If I’m strong enough for this.”
“You are,” Ianto said. Jack threw him an enquiring look, but didn’t say anything. “You’re a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for, Gwen Cooper.”
“You seem awfully sure of that,” she said, her voice unsteady.
“I know you are,” Ianto said simply. “Dying - being dead - has a way of opening your eyes. You’ll be able to get through this.”
“The end is where we start from,” Jack quoted, and gave Gwen a half-smile as she turned to him. “You’ll be fine.”
“Go home and hug Rhys,” Ianto told her, hugging her round the shoulders briefly before stepping back. “Tell him he’s been amazing through all this.”
Gwen sniffed a little, wiping at her eyes before smiling tremulously at Ianto and leaving. Tosh and Owen followed soon after, Tosh’s eyes radiating pride and affection at Ianto.
“Funny how little the differences seem to matter, now,” Ianto said. Jack sidled up to him and kissed his cheek before laying his head on Ianto’s shoulder. Ianto wrapped an arm around Jack, relaxing into his lover’s mind, taking a moment to just catch up to everything that had happened.
I love you, he told Jack, simply because he could.
Jack’s mind radiated affection back at him, affection which abruptly became coloured with worry. I, um, Jack began.
Don’t, Ianto laughed. Never feel like you have to say it. I know it, I’ve heard it twice, and that’s more than enough for me. He turned and kissed Jack deeply, then pulled away with a minute sigh.
“Best get to work then,” he said, smiling slightly as Jack protested with a wordless mewl, cuddling closer to Ianto.
“Come on, love,” he said, prodding at Jack’s shoulder. Jack lifted his head and frowned, looking for all the world like a roused kitten. “Work to do.”
“You did that on purpose,” Jack accused. “You know what I always associate with that phrase!”
“I do indeed,” Ianto said. “But that’s for later.”
“Not too much later?” Jack asked hopefully.
“After we finish this,” Ianto said firmly. Jack’s face fell. “So the sooner we’re done -”
“Let’s get started then!” Jack said, clapping his hands together briskly. Ianto couldn’t help it - he started laughing, and the startled (then delighted) look on Jack’s face made it all the harder to stop. Once he finally got himself under control, they got down to work, dividing it up into two piles, instinctively knowing which of them would be better suited to each task. There was something nice about knowing another so very well, Ianto decided.
There was also something peculiar about how he was feeling right at that moment. His fingers paused momentarily over the keyboard as he tried to place the feeling. It took a second, but then he realised what it was. He was happy. Really happy for once, not feeling like he had a Damocles’ sword hanging over him. Unreservedly, wholly happy with his life, despite the possibility of what he might have committed himself to. Despite the forever that he might have to face.
Forever, which was a very long time. Forever, which Ianto had had to accept because to do less had been unthinkable.
It was kind of terrifying, Ianto thought to himself. He’d thought about what it must be like to be immortal, of course - but only in terms of how it would affect Jack. And that had hurt, but suddenly he was finding it might be applied to himself, and everything seemed so different. But then again, he’d thought about it so much that in a way, it was the waiting that was the most difficult; the waiting to see if he really was immortal, or if he’d age normally after all. And if he was immortal, then he was absolutely positive that he and Jack would have a lot to figure out, and that they’d make plenty of mistakes and probably get into fights and complain and struggle.
He was also sure, bone-deep, mind-deep, soul-deep, that they’d get past all that. Because -
The sentence sank into his mind and wouldn’t let go. He smiled softly as he looked over at Jack. It was true, after all. The end was where they’d start from.
And this was only the beginning.
~fin
Okay, I know. It’s a horrible cliché that’s been beaten to death multiple times and, like Jack, keeps coming back. It takes the easy way out as far as dealing with the personal consequences of Jack’s immortality goes. But this was how the entire story started - me wondering if there was any way to write immortal!Ianto without it coming out of nowhere. Everything that’s happened has been leading to this point, this event.
The final part took some rewriting before I was happy with it. I wanted to leave the possibility of immortal!Ianto up for interpretation. There’re a number of ways it could have gone, and if you don’t like the idea of Ianto being immortal, feel free to believe that he’s just been given a second chance. I tend to vacillate depending on how miserable I want Jack to be. What really has happened to Ianto isn’t something we’ll find out any time soon, I’m afraid.
And on that note - here are some extra notes and commentary about the fic, for those so inclined to reading!
Smart readers will notice that there’s lots of room to play in this universe. In fact, I currently already have ten short one-shots set after Counting Stars ends.
Interested?
ETA: A Master List for Counting Stars is now available here. Click for the main fic, as well as subsequent spin-off one-shots and a fanmix.