Fanfic - Counting Stars: Carry On [Torchwood: Jack/Ianto]
Title: Carry On
Rating(s): PG-13
Pairing(s): Jack/Ianto
Warning(s): Spoilers for Counting Stars, and all attendant changes etc made to canon within that ‘verse.
Summary: “I don’t think it’s easy to deal, or move on, but if you didn’t, you’d have killed yourself a long time ago. And you know, I think it’s important you don’t get so caught up in mourning her that you forget she’s still alive.”
Author's Notes: Counting Stars-verse - click here for the Master List. For those who don’t want to read it, all you need to know is that Jack and Ianto have a telepathic connection, and Ianto may or may not be immortal (they’ll find out next time he dies, I suppose). Oh, and Tosh and Owen survived the end of Season 2.
Carry On
Jack Harkness was Batman.
After three hours of quiet reflection, this was the conclusion that Ianto had arrived at. It did make sense. Jack was the charming, wealthy socialite(ish) with a secret job and a tormented past. He even had a lair under the city he called home. Batman had been accused of attracting rather than deterring various villains from moving - since they wanted to prove themselves against him. Ianto felt disloyal thinking it, but there was no denying that certain events would not have taken place had Jack not resided in Cardiff.
Grey would not otherwise have targeted the city.
Of course, if Jack was Batman, Ianto was probably Alfred, and he wasn’t entirely certain how he felt about that. Toshiko could be Oracle, Gwen could maybe be Renee Montoya, and although Owen was nothing like any of the Robins, the sheer hilarity of imagining him in the original costume was worth it.
Ianto suspected that the lack of sleep was getting to him.
There was just so much to do, though. The damage control from the chaos that Grey had unleashed had been nearly impossible. Ianto had never been more thankful for the general populace’s tendency towards wilful blindness. Two weeks after Grey, and the city was just barely beginning to get back on its feet.
The body count was the hardest to deal with. Given the number of bombs that had been planted, seven dead wasn’t all that bad a figure. It certainly could have been worse, had John Hart not deliberately sabotaged both the placements of the bombs and the bombs themselves. But still, that was seven people dead, seven innocents.
And him.
And Toshiko.
That had hit him the hardest. He’d thought, for that entire terrifying journey back to the Hub from the power plant, that Toshiko might die. That he might have sent her to the Hub to keep her safe, but wound up sending her to her death instead. That, more than anything else, had driven adrenaline uselessly through his system.
Ianto sighed and lay back, staring up at the night sky. Maybe being up on a roof helped clear Jack’s head, but it seemed like his thoughts were more jumbled up than ever.
“Penny for them,” Jack said.
“Haven’t you already peeked?” Ianto asked. Jack sat down somewhere near him, but he couldn’t be bothered shifting to look. Something suspiciously foot-shaped nudged him in the side.
“It’s all confusing in there,” Jack complained. “Explanation, please?”
“Sure,” Ianto said. “Just as soon as I get it sorted out myself.”
“Okay,” Jack said agreeably. Cloth rustled as he made himself comfortable. Ianto let his eyes drift shut.
“My first mission with the Time Agency involved a historical-theft case,” Jack said. “Turned out to be another Time Agent. I was a bit unpopular for a while after I turned her in. Didn’t get any sympathy, even with half my shoulder in rags.”
“Half - what?” Ianto asked, startled.
“Sonic blaster,” Jack said. “Malfunctioning sonic blaster, actually. Long story. Point was, I brought her in with only one good arm, and they kept me waiting hours before treating it. I mean, it wasn’t life-threatening, not for then, but it still hurt like hell.”
“I can imagine,” Ianto said dryly, finally rolling over so he could see Jack. The older man looked pensive.
“I think I did the right thing,” Jack said. “I still do. Fellow Agent or not, she was the thief and so I turned her in. But that was the treatment I got for doing the right thing.”
There was a beat of silence. Ianto found himself holding his breath.
“Sometimes I wonder if that didn’t set a precedent for the rest of my life,” Jack said darkly.
“Jack -” Ianto began.
“I thought I was doing the right thing staying here, keeping Torchwood going,” Jack said. “I still do, especially now One’s gone. But -”
“If you weren’t here, Grey wouldn’t have come here,” Ianto said, and watched as Jack flinched.
“It was my fault,” Jack admitted quietly. “I told you about it - if I hadn’t let go of him, he wouldn’t -”
“But it was an accident,” Ianto said. “You never meant for it to happen. Don’t lie, Jack, especially to yourself. I know you never meant for it to happen.”
“But it did.”
“It did,” Ianto acknowledged. “And it was Grey’s choice to blame you for it happening, to turn you into the villain, to hate you and let that hatred dictate his own life.”
“Always the bad guy,” Jack mused.
“Always unwarranted,” Ianto said softly. “Look, I don’t pretend like my childhood was anything like what Grey probably went through, but it’s the same principle. I could have let it define me. I could have turned bitter and blamed dad and Dafydd for anything and everything that went wrong in my life. I chose not to. Grey took the easy path, not necessarily the right one.”
“How the clichés do come, my dear Ianto,” Jack commented. Ianto scowled at him. “I get it, I get it. I mean, theoretically I get it, it’s just hard convincing myself.”
Ianto rolled over again, onto his back. The light pollution from the city was dimming the stars, but if he focused on a single patch of sky at a time, he could make out more and more stars slowly twinkling into focus.
“We’re doing the right thing, aren’t we?” he asked. “Torchwood, I mean.”
“I think so,” Jack said.
“I suppose that’s the best I can hope for,” Ianto said. “But I mean, any job in which the employees aren’t expected to survive beyond five years…”
“Is a dangerous one,” Jack allowed. “But does that make it wrong?”
“No, just…” Ianto trailed off, but Jack caught the rest of the sentence in his mind - scary.
“Toshiko,” Jack said, resignedly.
“As things stand right now,” Ianto said, “We don’t even know if she’ll ever get out of that wheelchair.”
“If she was a cop, and she’d been attacked by someone and put in a wheelchair,” Jack began. “Or run over by a car, or fallen down the stairs…”
Ianto closed his eyes, mulling it over. “Would what you’re trying to say,” he eventually said, “Be that there are plenty of ways in which a person can die or otherwise be maimed, without the job being involved?”
“That would be it,” Jack said, a faint smile in his voice.
“And I should learn to deal, and just get on with it?” Ianto asked.
“Maybe in politer language,” Jack said. “Since it’s you.”
“Thanks.”
“Any time,” Jack said. “I don’t think it’s easy to deal, or move on, but if you didn’t, you’d have killed yourself a long time ago. And you know, I think it’s important you don’t get so caught up in mourning her that you forget she’s still alive.”
Ianto made a vague sound of acquiescence, remembering sweet, dark eyes and chocolatey skin. And when it came down to it, wasn’t it exactly what he’d accused Grey of failing to do?
Move on.
Keep going.
He could hardly let himself or Jack down after saying all that. He’d support Toshiko through the rehab, because what else could he do? He’d take her out for a day so they could both relax a little after such trying times. And he’d stop glancing over his shoulder, trying to spot the death that so closely shadowed them. He’d stop counting down the days, trying to predict when each of them would be lost. He’d trust in their ability to beat the odds, as all of them were fighting to do.
He’d look forward with clear eyes, and carry on.
~fin
Concrit welcome!
Rating(s): PG-13
Pairing(s): Jack/Ianto
Warning(s): Spoilers for Counting Stars, and all attendant changes etc made to canon within that ‘verse.
Summary: “I don’t think it’s easy to deal, or move on, but if you didn’t, you’d have killed yourself a long time ago. And you know, I think it’s important you don’t get so caught up in mourning her that you forget she’s still alive.”
Author's Notes: Counting Stars-verse - click here for the Master List. For those who don’t want to read it, all you need to know is that Jack and Ianto have a telepathic connection, and Ianto may or may not be immortal (they’ll find out next time he dies, I suppose). Oh, and Tosh and Owen survived the end of Season 2.
Carry On
Jack Harkness was Batman.
After three hours of quiet reflection, this was the conclusion that Ianto had arrived at. It did make sense. Jack was the charming, wealthy socialite(ish) with a secret job and a tormented past. He even had a lair under the city he called home. Batman had been accused of attracting rather than deterring various villains from moving - since they wanted to prove themselves against him. Ianto felt disloyal thinking it, but there was no denying that certain events would not have taken place had Jack not resided in Cardiff.
Grey would not otherwise have targeted the city.
Of course, if Jack was Batman, Ianto was probably Alfred, and he wasn’t entirely certain how he felt about that. Toshiko could be Oracle, Gwen could maybe be Renee Montoya, and although Owen was nothing like any of the Robins, the sheer hilarity of imagining him in the original costume was worth it.
Ianto suspected that the lack of sleep was getting to him.
There was just so much to do, though. The damage control from the chaos that Grey had unleashed had been nearly impossible. Ianto had never been more thankful for the general populace’s tendency towards wilful blindness. Two weeks after Grey, and the city was just barely beginning to get back on its feet.
The body count was the hardest to deal with. Given the number of bombs that had been planted, seven dead wasn’t all that bad a figure. It certainly could have been worse, had John Hart not deliberately sabotaged both the placements of the bombs and the bombs themselves. But still, that was seven people dead, seven innocents.
And him.
And Toshiko.
That had hit him the hardest. He’d thought, for that entire terrifying journey back to the Hub from the power plant, that Toshiko might die. That he might have sent her to the Hub to keep her safe, but wound up sending her to her death instead. That, more than anything else, had driven adrenaline uselessly through his system.
Ianto sighed and lay back, staring up at the night sky. Maybe being up on a roof helped clear Jack’s head, but it seemed like his thoughts were more jumbled up than ever.
“Penny for them,” Jack said.
“Haven’t you already peeked?” Ianto asked. Jack sat down somewhere near him, but he couldn’t be bothered shifting to look. Something suspiciously foot-shaped nudged him in the side.
“It’s all confusing in there,” Jack complained. “Explanation, please?”
“Sure,” Ianto said. “Just as soon as I get it sorted out myself.”
“Okay,” Jack said agreeably. Cloth rustled as he made himself comfortable. Ianto let his eyes drift shut.
“My first mission with the Time Agency involved a historical-theft case,” Jack said. “Turned out to be another Time Agent. I was a bit unpopular for a while after I turned her in. Didn’t get any sympathy, even with half my shoulder in rags.”
“Half - what?” Ianto asked, startled.
“Sonic blaster,” Jack said. “Malfunctioning sonic blaster, actually. Long story. Point was, I brought her in with only one good arm, and they kept me waiting hours before treating it. I mean, it wasn’t life-threatening, not for then, but it still hurt like hell.”
“I can imagine,” Ianto said dryly, finally rolling over so he could see Jack. The older man looked pensive.
“I think I did the right thing,” Jack said. “I still do. Fellow Agent or not, she was the thief and so I turned her in. But that was the treatment I got for doing the right thing.”
There was a beat of silence. Ianto found himself holding his breath.
“Sometimes I wonder if that didn’t set a precedent for the rest of my life,” Jack said darkly.
“Jack -” Ianto began.
“I thought I was doing the right thing staying here, keeping Torchwood going,” Jack said. “I still do, especially now One’s gone. But -”
“If you weren’t here, Grey wouldn’t have come here,” Ianto said, and watched as Jack flinched.
“It was my fault,” Jack admitted quietly. “I told you about it - if I hadn’t let go of him, he wouldn’t -”
“But it was an accident,” Ianto said. “You never meant for it to happen. Don’t lie, Jack, especially to yourself. I know you never meant for it to happen.”
“But it did.”
“It did,” Ianto acknowledged. “And it was Grey’s choice to blame you for it happening, to turn you into the villain, to hate you and let that hatred dictate his own life.”
“Always the bad guy,” Jack mused.
“Always unwarranted,” Ianto said softly. “Look, I don’t pretend like my childhood was anything like what Grey probably went through, but it’s the same principle. I could have let it define me. I could have turned bitter and blamed dad and Dafydd for anything and everything that went wrong in my life. I chose not to. Grey took the easy path, not necessarily the right one.”
“How the clichés do come, my dear Ianto,” Jack commented. Ianto scowled at him. “I get it, I get it. I mean, theoretically I get it, it’s just hard convincing myself.”
Ianto rolled over again, onto his back. The light pollution from the city was dimming the stars, but if he focused on a single patch of sky at a time, he could make out more and more stars slowly twinkling into focus.
“We’re doing the right thing, aren’t we?” he asked. “Torchwood, I mean.”
“I think so,” Jack said.
“I suppose that’s the best I can hope for,” Ianto said. “But I mean, any job in which the employees aren’t expected to survive beyond five years…”
“Is a dangerous one,” Jack allowed. “But does that make it wrong?”
“No, just…” Ianto trailed off, but Jack caught the rest of the sentence in his mind - scary.
“Toshiko,” Jack said, resignedly.
“As things stand right now,” Ianto said, “We don’t even know if she’ll ever get out of that wheelchair.”
“If she was a cop, and she’d been attacked by someone and put in a wheelchair,” Jack began. “Or run over by a car, or fallen down the stairs…”
Ianto closed his eyes, mulling it over. “Would what you’re trying to say,” he eventually said, “Be that there are plenty of ways in which a person can die or otherwise be maimed, without the job being involved?”
“That would be it,” Jack said, a faint smile in his voice.
“And I should learn to deal, and just get on with it?” Ianto asked.
“Maybe in politer language,” Jack said. “Since it’s you.”
“Thanks.”
“Any time,” Jack said. “I don’t think it’s easy to deal, or move on, but if you didn’t, you’d have killed yourself a long time ago. And you know, I think it’s important you don’t get so caught up in mourning her that you forget she’s still alive.”
Ianto made a vague sound of acquiescence, remembering sweet, dark eyes and chocolatey skin. And when it came down to it, wasn’t it exactly what he’d accused Grey of failing to do?
Move on.
Keep going.
He could hardly let himself or Jack down after saying all that. He’d support Toshiko through the rehab, because what else could he do? He’d take her out for a day so they could both relax a little after such trying times. And he’d stop glancing over his shoulder, trying to spot the death that so closely shadowed them. He’d stop counting down the days, trying to predict when each of them would be lost. He’d trust in their ability to beat the odds, as all of them were fighting to do.
He’d look forward with clear eyes, and carry on.
~fin
Concrit welcome!