Fic: Things Lost and Found Along the Way (10/11)
Title: Things Lost and Found Along The Way (10/11)
Rating: pg13
Characters/Pairings: Jack. AU Ianto, Owen and Tosh. Owen/Tosh, eventual Jack/Ianto.
Word Count: This part 2.5 k (of 30k/33k posted)
Contains: Serious illness of an alien variety.
Summary: Travelling back to Earth with Ianto, Owen and Toshiko on board the freighter Ariadne, Jack has growing concerns that the glove he'd used to bring them into this universe has somehow affected him. He's still trying to deal with these worries on his own when they receive a distress call from another ship. A call which is about to change everything.
A/N: This is a sequel to The Spaces in Between. This is a sequel to 'The Spaces in Between.' which was a CoE sort of fix it. Any similarity to Miracle Day with regards to what is going on with Jack is totally accidental as this aspect of the fic had already been decided on last year. Updated weekly on Friday.
This part beta'd by mcparrot
Starts here.
Jack wakes slowly, the return to consciousness gradual. Aches and pains register first, a dull throb in his side, the tug and pull of bruising around his eye, and the sharp sting of a split lip.
He tries to roll over, seeking a more comfortable position, the pillow under his head seeming oddly out of place for reasons he can't quite remember. Pain flares for a moment as he moves, jolting him fully awake. Memories flood back in a rush; stumbling breathless and dizzy down corridors, Kelda’s dead eyes looking up at him, the sizzle of laser fire cutting the air, and Ianto lying motionless on the floor beside him.
A sob escapes him, and Jack keeps his eyes tightly closed, wanting to shut out reality, not ready to deal with it.
A hand grips his tightly. “Jack, please, it's alright. You're alright.”
Jack opens his eyes to see Ianto sitting in the chair by his bed looking at him, a worried expression on his face. He looks pale, pain and tiredness seeming to radiate from him. The left sleeve of shirt has been cut off, the dressing around the top of his arm partially hidden by the sling which holds his arm across his chest.
“You’re alive.”
“Too sore not to be. So definitely alive,” Ianto says, sounding a little out of it. “I didn't think I would be. Alive that is.”
“I'm glad you are.” Jack's voice cracks and he holds Ianto's hand a little tighter.
“I am too.” Ianto laughs, then stops seeming confused at why he'd found it funny. “I think Owen must have given me the good stuff.”
The dull ache in Jack's side becomes a sharp pain as he tries to sit up, and he gives up saying, “Maybe he could give me some of it too.”
“Owen said you'd bruised your ribs,” Ianto says, a look of concentration on his face as he tries to remember what he's been told. “He said he'd come back later. He’s run off his feet at the minute.”
“We won then.” The fact that they are alive seems to suggest it, but Jack’s learnt the hard way too many times never to take anything for granted.
“Yes.” Ianto nods, looking relieved. “Tosh got the engines restarted, and sent an energy pulse along the hull of the ship. It dislodged their ship, and damaged their engines.”
“Kelda is dead, isn't she?” Jack asks, hoping that he’s wrong.
“Yes” Ianto says sadly. “Two of the smugglers too. Owen is working on Pol, I don’t know if he’ll make it.”
Jack closes his eyes. He'd not known Kelda or Pol that well. But they'd seemed like good people, and Pol had been kind to him - even when he was scattering bits of cargo across the hold when his mind hadn't been on the job.
“Jack? Jack, are you okay?”
“Yeah.” It's not exactly the truth, but knowing that Ianto, Owen and Tosh have survived, and that the danger has passed, helps. Opening his eyes again, Jack asks, “How are you?”
“I'll be alright. It's just a laser burn, Owen says that there'll be no permanent damage.” He gives Jack a wry smile. “Just another scar to the collection.”
“He's sure?”
“Apparently they can act a bit like a stun gun on some people, I guess I was unlucky.”
“Or not,” Jack says, trying and failing to put the alternative out of his mind. “If you hadn't gone down he'd have kept right on shooting.”
Ianto shivers. “I suppose there is that.”
They both lapse into silence, lost in their own thoughts.
The silence is broken by Owen letting himself into Jack's room. He looks at Ianto and says, “See I told you he’d be okay.”
As soon as Owen speaks Ianto lets go of Jack's hand, a slightly self conscious look on his face. “So how's Pol?” Ianto asks, changing the subject.
“Looking a bit more hopeful,” Owen says wearily, rubbing a hand across his eyes. “I've done what I can, and he's stable for now. At least the shot missed both of his stomachs. He'll need to get to a hospital to see if there's any long term damage though.”
Turning to Jack, Owen says, “Alright, I’d better take a proper look at you now you're awake.”
Owen quickly inspects the bruise round Jack’s eye, the split lip and the bruises on his knuckles. “You’re going to have a pretty stunning black eye for a while,” he says. “But there's no real damage done.”
Pulling back the bed covers, he pushes up the edge of Jack t-shirt.
Jack takes a sharp breath, flinching as Owen presses on the large bruise that covers a good portion his right side.
“Doesn’t feel like there’s anything broken,” Owen says eventually. “Are you getting more pain in it than you think you should?”
“I don't think so.” Jack's still not totally sure how much there should be, as after years of rapid healing, his memories of what normal healing should be are a little hazy.
“Okay then,” Owen says letting go of Jack's t-shirt. “Now this is where I'd normally say take some painkillers and spend a few days taking it easy and you should be alright. But since you're on that advice already I'll just say keep doing it.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Jack says, grateful that Owen has stopped prodding him.
“You got off lightly compared to the other guy.”
“I killed him?”
“No. But he’s taken a right hammering.” Owen puts the bed cover back in place. “So remind me never to piss you off.”
“I wouldn't do that,” Jack says quickly, hating the idea that Owen could think that beating somebody half to death with his bare hands is how he deals with problems.
Owen rolls his eyes. “I was joking.”
“Well it wasn’t very funny,” Ianto mutters, mostly to himself.
“You know what your problem is?” Owen says to Ianto. “You don’t have a sense of humour. Well that and the fact that you’re knackered. So as your doctor I’m telling you to go and get some rest right now.”
Ianto looks like he’s about to argue, a frown forming on his face.
“He’s right,” Jack says. He can see how exhausted Ianto looks, the dark smudges beneath his eyes looking bruise like against skin that's almost grey with tiredness. “You can always come back here later.”
“I suppose I could try,” Ianto says doubtfully.
“If you can’t, I can give you something. If you want,” Owen says, his usual sarcasm replaced with genuine concern.
“No.” Ianto shakes his head. “I’d rather not.”
“Okay then.” Owen heads back over to the door. “I’ve got a couple of things I still need to do, but I’ll come back later on check how both of you are.”
Owen opens the door to leave, and nearly walks into Tosh.
“I thought I'd find you here,” Tosh says. She smiles at them, looking tired but relieved. There’s a smudge of grime across her cheek, spark holes in her blouse, and a pair of welding goggles on her head.
Owen puts his arm around her, and kisses her. “Nothing’s wrong, is it?”
“No, I just came to say I’ve finished with the engines for the night.”
“In that case,” Owen says with a grin. “I think we should go have a shower and then have lots of life affirming sex.”
Tosh smiles and laughs, hugging him back. “I'm sure they wanted to know that.”
Looking at them, and at Ianto’s half amused, half embarrassed smile, Jack laughs, relieved that life is getting back to normal.
* * *
It's the middle of the night, and the ship quiet except for the ever present low thrum of the engines, as Jack makes his way back to his room.
He’s nearly there when he notices Ianto standing at the end of the corridor by one of the portholes. Dressed in the same clothes he’d been wearing hours earlier, his shoulders hunched, and his arm still in the sling, Ianto watches the stars stream past.
Walking over to him, Jack says, “You're up late.”
“I could say the same thing.”
“Call of nature. You on the other hand don't look like you've been to bed.”
“I couldn't sleep.” Ianto sighs, but doesn't turn to face Jack.
“You want to tell me what's wrong?”
“We'll be on Earth this time tomorrow,” Ianto says his voice devoid of any enthusiasm.
Worried now about just what's going on in Ianto's head, Jack asks, “You say that like it's a bad thing.”
Ianto sighs again. “It's not bad. It just changes everything.”
Jack frowns, and leans back against the wall next to Ianto. “Why do I feel like I'm only getting half the story here?”
“I’m not sure there is one,” he says miserably. “Not one that makes any sense.”
“Try me.”
“I don’t know where to start. It’s just that I…” Ianto stops, and turns to face Jack. “Kiss me.”
Ianto says it so quietly, so suddenly, that Jack isn't sure that he's heard him right, and he gives him a questioning look.
Stepping forward so there’s almost no space between them, Ianto says, “I said I want you to kiss me. I've just got so much going on in my mind, things that I need to work out, and I think this will help.”
“You're sure?”
“Yes.”
Tentative at first, Jack curls his hand against Ianto’s cheek, drawing him in closer. He can feel Ianto's breath warm against his skin, and Jack closes his eyes as their lips meet. It’s not a passionate kiss, but it's certainly not chaste either, as Jack feels Ianto’s tongue against his own.
Pulling back from the kiss, Ianto touches his fingers to his lips, a conflicted look on his face. “It's not the same.”
Jack smiles sadly. He's not sure what he'd hope would come out of this
“But that's not a bad thing,” Ianto says, sounding like he's only just come to that conclusion himself. “Because it shouldn't be the same. If I'm with you, I have to know it is you. Anything less wouldn't fair on either of us. We can't go into this chasing ghosts.”
“Why now?” Jack asks. It’s barely three weeks since Ianto found him in the street near the space port.
“Because we don’t have forever, and today just reinforced that,” Ianto says running a hand through his hair. “If I don’t take the chance now I might never get the opportunity again. When you were sick, I thought about it over and over. And then when I thought…” He stops and takes a shaky breath. “I came to, and you were there on the floor next to me. I thought you were dead. You were so still, and the blood…” he trails off.
“It wasn't mine, well not much of it any way,” Jack says reassuringly.
“I thought it was,” Ianto says quietly, his eyes haunted. “I thought I’d lost you. I can’t…”
“It’s alright.” Jack steps in closer, trying to calm him down.
“No, it’s not. I'm sick and tired of being scared all the time,” Ianto says, angry at himself. “Scared that this won’t work out, and scared that it will. Scared that I’ll lose you, or that I'll forget him. And I'm fucking terrified that I won't be able to handle life on your Earth. I know what happens to people who fall through the Rift from different times. I know how few of them make it in the end. I'm just like them now. And…”
“Ianto.”
“And so are Owen and Tosh. If anything happens to them, I…” He stops, covering his eyes with his hand.
Jack can see he’s getting more and more worked up, everything that's been buried just below the surface since they first met coming to a head. Jack does the only thing he can think of. He kisses Ianto again.
He doesn't respond, instead going still and tense in Jack's arms.
For a moment Jack worries that he’s misjudged it, that Ianto is going to push him away. Then he starts to shake, tears falling, everything he’s been bottling up coming out in a rush.
There had been a few silent tears shed when he'd first told him about how his Jack had died, how his whole world had died. This outpouring of grief, Jack suspects, has been a long time coming.
Breaking the kiss, Ianto presses his faces against Jack's shoulder, as he sags against him.
Knowing that he’s not going to be able to hold Ianto up for long, his muscles already feeling tired and achy, Jack settles for a controlled sink to the floor.
Kneeling on the floor together, Jack holds Ianto close, and lets him cry. Trying to quieten him, to get the tears to stop before they're ready is, Jack's sure, the last thing that he needs. Sometimes just letting it all out is the only thing left to do.
Slowly the ragged sobs ebb away, and Jack can feel Ianto start to relax, his breathing evening out. He’s not sure how long they’ve been there, but getting off the cold metal floor, before Ianto falls asleep seem like a good idea. Keeping his tone light, Jack says, “I don't know about you, but my ass is going numb.”
“We can’t have that, can we?” Ianto says, his voice muffled against Jack’s shoulder. It sounds forced, although there is a genuine undercurrent of amusement to it.
“Definitely not. It could fall off.”
“Now you’re just being ridiculous.”
Jack just laughs.
“Right pair we are,” Ianto says, as they both groan as they get up, bruises and tired limbs protesting at the movement.
Jack smiles, trying to keep the mood light. “Yeah, but I bet we still look good.”
They take their time walking the short distance to Jack’s room. Once they are inside Jack asks, “How you feeling?”
“Cold,” Ianto says, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “And a bit stupid really. I shouldn’t be putting you in a position where you need to deal with me when I’m like this. It’s not fair on you.”
“You’d do the same for me,” Jack says, taking his greatcoat from where it’s hung on a peg on the wall. Putting it round Ianto’s shoulders he adds, “You already have.”
Ianto nods non-committally.
Sitting down beside him, Jack asks, “When did you last sleep?”
Ianto frowns thinking for a moment before answering. “I got a few hours last night.”
“How many is a few?” Jack asks, remembering when conversations such as this with his Ianto had almost been common place, the first few weeks after Tosh and Owen had died being the worst.
“Three or four.” He leans against Jack, eyes closing. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It does to me.” Jack takes hold of Ianto's hand, trying to reinforce the idea that he doesn't have to be alone. “I mean a full night.”
“At the motel,” Ianto says, eyes downcast. “Although there have been some that have come close.”
The only nights when you weren’t alone, Jack thinks sadly, wishing that Ianto had told him sooner. Threading his fingers through Ianto’s, Jack says, “Stay here tonight. Stay with me.”
Ianto looks down at their linked hands, and sniffs back more threatening tears, his voice rough as he says, “Thank you.”
The bed isn't really designed to sleep two, and it takes a few minutes to find a position that allows them both to rest in any degree of comfort. Eventually though, with Ianto lying against Jack’s un-bruised side, his injured arm resting across Jack’s chest, they find one which works.
Warm and secure together, they fall asleep.
Part eleven: http://the-silver-sun.livejournal.com/149539.html
Rating: pg13
Characters/Pairings: Jack. AU Ianto, Owen and Tosh. Owen/Tosh, eventual Jack/Ianto.
Word Count: This part 2.5 k (of 30k/33k posted)
Contains: Serious illness of an alien variety.
Summary: Travelling back to Earth with Ianto, Owen and Toshiko on board the freighter Ariadne, Jack has growing concerns that the glove he'd used to bring them into this universe has somehow affected him. He's still trying to deal with these worries on his own when they receive a distress call from another ship. A call which is about to change everything.
A/N: This is a sequel to The Spaces in Between. This is a sequel to 'The Spaces in Between.' which was a CoE sort of fix it. Any similarity to Miracle Day with regards to what is going on with Jack is totally accidental as this aspect of the fic had already been decided on last year. Updated weekly on Friday.
This part beta'd by mcparrot
Starts here.
Jack wakes slowly, the return to consciousness gradual. Aches and pains register first, a dull throb in his side, the tug and pull of bruising around his eye, and the sharp sting of a split lip.
He tries to roll over, seeking a more comfortable position, the pillow under his head seeming oddly out of place for reasons he can't quite remember. Pain flares for a moment as he moves, jolting him fully awake. Memories flood back in a rush; stumbling breathless and dizzy down corridors, Kelda’s dead eyes looking up at him, the sizzle of laser fire cutting the air, and Ianto lying motionless on the floor beside him.
A sob escapes him, and Jack keeps his eyes tightly closed, wanting to shut out reality, not ready to deal with it.
A hand grips his tightly. “Jack, please, it's alright. You're alright.”
Jack opens his eyes to see Ianto sitting in the chair by his bed looking at him, a worried expression on his face. He looks pale, pain and tiredness seeming to radiate from him. The left sleeve of shirt has been cut off, the dressing around the top of his arm partially hidden by the sling which holds his arm across his chest.
“You’re alive.”
“Too sore not to be. So definitely alive,” Ianto says, sounding a little out of it. “I didn't think I would be. Alive that is.”
“I'm glad you are.” Jack's voice cracks and he holds Ianto's hand a little tighter.
“I am too.” Ianto laughs, then stops seeming confused at why he'd found it funny. “I think Owen must have given me the good stuff.”
The dull ache in Jack's side becomes a sharp pain as he tries to sit up, and he gives up saying, “Maybe he could give me some of it too.”
“Owen said you'd bruised your ribs,” Ianto says, a look of concentration on his face as he tries to remember what he's been told. “He said he'd come back later. He’s run off his feet at the minute.”
“We won then.” The fact that they are alive seems to suggest it, but Jack’s learnt the hard way too many times never to take anything for granted.
“Yes.” Ianto nods, looking relieved. “Tosh got the engines restarted, and sent an energy pulse along the hull of the ship. It dislodged their ship, and damaged their engines.”
“Kelda is dead, isn't she?” Jack asks, hoping that he’s wrong.
“Yes” Ianto says sadly. “Two of the smugglers too. Owen is working on Pol, I don’t know if he’ll make it.”
Jack closes his eyes. He'd not known Kelda or Pol that well. But they'd seemed like good people, and Pol had been kind to him - even when he was scattering bits of cargo across the hold when his mind hadn't been on the job.
“Jack? Jack, are you okay?”
“Yeah.” It's not exactly the truth, but knowing that Ianto, Owen and Tosh have survived, and that the danger has passed, helps. Opening his eyes again, Jack asks, “How are you?”
“I'll be alright. It's just a laser burn, Owen says that there'll be no permanent damage.” He gives Jack a wry smile. “Just another scar to the collection.”
“He's sure?”
“Apparently they can act a bit like a stun gun on some people, I guess I was unlucky.”
“Or not,” Jack says, trying and failing to put the alternative out of his mind. “If you hadn't gone down he'd have kept right on shooting.”
Ianto shivers. “I suppose there is that.”
They both lapse into silence, lost in their own thoughts.
The silence is broken by Owen letting himself into Jack's room. He looks at Ianto and says, “See I told you he’d be okay.”
As soon as Owen speaks Ianto lets go of Jack's hand, a slightly self conscious look on his face. “So how's Pol?” Ianto asks, changing the subject.
“Looking a bit more hopeful,” Owen says wearily, rubbing a hand across his eyes. “I've done what I can, and he's stable for now. At least the shot missed both of his stomachs. He'll need to get to a hospital to see if there's any long term damage though.”
Turning to Jack, Owen says, “Alright, I’d better take a proper look at you now you're awake.”
Owen quickly inspects the bruise round Jack’s eye, the split lip and the bruises on his knuckles. “You’re going to have a pretty stunning black eye for a while,” he says. “But there's no real damage done.”
Pulling back the bed covers, he pushes up the edge of Jack t-shirt.
Jack takes a sharp breath, flinching as Owen presses on the large bruise that covers a good portion his right side.
“Doesn’t feel like there’s anything broken,” Owen says eventually. “Are you getting more pain in it than you think you should?”
“I don't think so.” Jack's still not totally sure how much there should be, as after years of rapid healing, his memories of what normal healing should be are a little hazy.
“Okay then,” Owen says letting go of Jack's t-shirt. “Now this is where I'd normally say take some painkillers and spend a few days taking it easy and you should be alright. But since you're on that advice already I'll just say keep doing it.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Jack says, grateful that Owen has stopped prodding him.
“You got off lightly compared to the other guy.”
“I killed him?”
“No. But he’s taken a right hammering.” Owen puts the bed cover back in place. “So remind me never to piss you off.”
“I wouldn't do that,” Jack says quickly, hating the idea that Owen could think that beating somebody half to death with his bare hands is how he deals with problems.
Owen rolls his eyes. “I was joking.”
“Well it wasn’t very funny,” Ianto mutters, mostly to himself.
“You know what your problem is?” Owen says to Ianto. “You don’t have a sense of humour. Well that and the fact that you’re knackered. So as your doctor I’m telling you to go and get some rest right now.”
Ianto looks like he’s about to argue, a frown forming on his face.
“He’s right,” Jack says. He can see how exhausted Ianto looks, the dark smudges beneath his eyes looking bruise like against skin that's almost grey with tiredness. “You can always come back here later.”
“I suppose I could try,” Ianto says doubtfully.
“If you can’t, I can give you something. If you want,” Owen says, his usual sarcasm replaced with genuine concern.
“No.” Ianto shakes his head. “I’d rather not.”
“Okay then.” Owen heads back over to the door. “I’ve got a couple of things I still need to do, but I’ll come back later on check how both of you are.”
Owen opens the door to leave, and nearly walks into Tosh.
“I thought I'd find you here,” Tosh says. She smiles at them, looking tired but relieved. There’s a smudge of grime across her cheek, spark holes in her blouse, and a pair of welding goggles on her head.
Owen puts his arm around her, and kisses her. “Nothing’s wrong, is it?”
“No, I just came to say I’ve finished with the engines for the night.”
“In that case,” Owen says with a grin. “I think we should go have a shower and then have lots of life affirming sex.”
Tosh smiles and laughs, hugging him back. “I'm sure they wanted to know that.”
Looking at them, and at Ianto’s half amused, half embarrassed smile, Jack laughs, relieved that life is getting back to normal.
* * *
It's the middle of the night, and the ship quiet except for the ever present low thrum of the engines, as Jack makes his way back to his room.
He’s nearly there when he notices Ianto standing at the end of the corridor by one of the portholes. Dressed in the same clothes he’d been wearing hours earlier, his shoulders hunched, and his arm still in the sling, Ianto watches the stars stream past.
Walking over to him, Jack says, “You're up late.”
“I could say the same thing.”
“Call of nature. You on the other hand don't look like you've been to bed.”
“I couldn't sleep.” Ianto sighs, but doesn't turn to face Jack.
“You want to tell me what's wrong?”
“We'll be on Earth this time tomorrow,” Ianto says his voice devoid of any enthusiasm.
Worried now about just what's going on in Ianto's head, Jack asks, “You say that like it's a bad thing.”
Ianto sighs again. “It's not bad. It just changes everything.”
Jack frowns, and leans back against the wall next to Ianto. “Why do I feel like I'm only getting half the story here?”
“I’m not sure there is one,” he says miserably. “Not one that makes any sense.”
“Try me.”
“I don’t know where to start. It’s just that I…” Ianto stops, and turns to face Jack. “Kiss me.”
Ianto says it so quietly, so suddenly, that Jack isn't sure that he's heard him right, and he gives him a questioning look.
Stepping forward so there’s almost no space between them, Ianto says, “I said I want you to kiss me. I've just got so much going on in my mind, things that I need to work out, and I think this will help.”
“You're sure?”
“Yes.”
Tentative at first, Jack curls his hand against Ianto’s cheek, drawing him in closer. He can feel Ianto's breath warm against his skin, and Jack closes his eyes as their lips meet. It’s not a passionate kiss, but it's certainly not chaste either, as Jack feels Ianto’s tongue against his own.
Pulling back from the kiss, Ianto touches his fingers to his lips, a conflicted look on his face. “It's not the same.”
Jack smiles sadly. He's not sure what he'd hope would come out of this
“But that's not a bad thing,” Ianto says, sounding like he's only just come to that conclusion himself. “Because it shouldn't be the same. If I'm with you, I have to know it is you. Anything less wouldn't fair on either of us. We can't go into this chasing ghosts.”
“Why now?” Jack asks. It’s barely three weeks since Ianto found him in the street near the space port.
“Because we don’t have forever, and today just reinforced that,” Ianto says running a hand through his hair. “If I don’t take the chance now I might never get the opportunity again. When you were sick, I thought about it over and over. And then when I thought…” He stops and takes a shaky breath. “I came to, and you were there on the floor next to me. I thought you were dead. You were so still, and the blood…” he trails off.
“It wasn't mine, well not much of it any way,” Jack says reassuringly.
“I thought it was,” Ianto says quietly, his eyes haunted. “I thought I’d lost you. I can’t…”
“It’s alright.” Jack steps in closer, trying to calm him down.
“No, it’s not. I'm sick and tired of being scared all the time,” Ianto says, angry at himself. “Scared that this won’t work out, and scared that it will. Scared that I’ll lose you, or that I'll forget him. And I'm fucking terrified that I won't be able to handle life on your Earth. I know what happens to people who fall through the Rift from different times. I know how few of them make it in the end. I'm just like them now. And…”
“Ianto.”
“And so are Owen and Tosh. If anything happens to them, I…” He stops, covering his eyes with his hand.
Jack can see he’s getting more and more worked up, everything that's been buried just below the surface since they first met coming to a head. Jack does the only thing he can think of. He kisses Ianto again.
He doesn't respond, instead going still and tense in Jack's arms.
For a moment Jack worries that he’s misjudged it, that Ianto is going to push him away. Then he starts to shake, tears falling, everything he’s been bottling up coming out in a rush.
There had been a few silent tears shed when he'd first told him about how his Jack had died, how his whole world had died. This outpouring of grief, Jack suspects, has been a long time coming.
Breaking the kiss, Ianto presses his faces against Jack's shoulder, as he sags against him.
Knowing that he’s not going to be able to hold Ianto up for long, his muscles already feeling tired and achy, Jack settles for a controlled sink to the floor.
Kneeling on the floor together, Jack holds Ianto close, and lets him cry. Trying to quieten him, to get the tears to stop before they're ready is, Jack's sure, the last thing that he needs. Sometimes just letting it all out is the only thing left to do.
Slowly the ragged sobs ebb away, and Jack can feel Ianto start to relax, his breathing evening out. He’s not sure how long they’ve been there, but getting off the cold metal floor, before Ianto falls asleep seem like a good idea. Keeping his tone light, Jack says, “I don't know about you, but my ass is going numb.”
“We can’t have that, can we?” Ianto says, his voice muffled against Jack’s shoulder. It sounds forced, although there is a genuine undercurrent of amusement to it.
“Definitely not. It could fall off.”
“Now you’re just being ridiculous.”
Jack just laughs.
“Right pair we are,” Ianto says, as they both groan as they get up, bruises and tired limbs protesting at the movement.
Jack smiles, trying to keep the mood light. “Yeah, but I bet we still look good.”
They take their time walking the short distance to Jack’s room. Once they are inside Jack asks, “How you feeling?”
“Cold,” Ianto says, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “And a bit stupid really. I shouldn’t be putting you in a position where you need to deal with me when I’m like this. It’s not fair on you.”
“You’d do the same for me,” Jack says, taking his greatcoat from where it’s hung on a peg on the wall. Putting it round Ianto’s shoulders he adds, “You already have.”
Ianto nods non-committally.
Sitting down beside him, Jack asks, “When did you last sleep?”
Ianto frowns thinking for a moment before answering. “I got a few hours last night.”
“How many is a few?” Jack asks, remembering when conversations such as this with his Ianto had almost been common place, the first few weeks after Tosh and Owen had died being the worst.
“Three or four.” He leans against Jack, eyes closing. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It does to me.” Jack takes hold of Ianto's hand, trying to reinforce the idea that he doesn't have to be alone. “I mean a full night.”
“At the motel,” Ianto says, eyes downcast. “Although there have been some that have come close.”
The only nights when you weren’t alone, Jack thinks sadly, wishing that Ianto had told him sooner. Threading his fingers through Ianto’s, Jack says, “Stay here tonight. Stay with me.”
Ianto looks down at their linked hands, and sniffs back more threatening tears, his voice rough as he says, “Thank you.”
The bed isn't really designed to sleep two, and it takes a few minutes to find a position that allows them both to rest in any degree of comfort. Eventually though, with Ianto lying against Jack’s un-bruised side, his injured arm resting across Jack’s chest, they find one which works.
Warm and secure together, they fall asleep.
Part eleven: http://the-silver-sun.livejournal.com/149539.html