Fic: Vengeful God, Jack/Ianto (1/1)
Title: Vengeful God
Fandom: Doctor Who {Tv Show)
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Genre: Angst
Summary: First Suzie. Then Owen, Tosh. Now Gwen, Ianto...oh god, Ianto...
Warning: Slash
Length: +800
Status: Complete
Spoilers: TW - Exit Wounds, DW - The Stolen Planet
They're gone. He staggers back from the screen. Stumbles. Falls. They're all gone.
Someone catches him, holds him. Lowers him to the floor. Dalek. Exterminate.
It could be the Doctor, or Donna, or Rose; their Rose, his Rose. He doesn't care. Doesn't know. He's here in this big blue box, and they're gone. All gone.
First Suzie. Then Owen, Tosh. Now Gwen, Ianto…oh god, Ianto. There's words and hands and it's probably comfort but what could possibly comfort him? How could any of them possibly comfort him?
They knew. He's seen the footage, knows they heard the alert he didn't. Knows they sent him away when he should have been there. Those smiles as he left, those sad, sad smiles. And his promise; what does it matter now? He told them; they better be okay, and they knew they wouldn't be.
They sent him away, his brave little soldiers. Not soldiers, family. And now they're gone, he saw the screens go black. Heard the word, the command, the guns that couldn't do a thing. Heard Gwen screaming, and his Ianto so stoic, so brave.
There's more whispers. The Doctor didn't change when he should have, they need to know why. Rose is back, and that's good, or it was. He thinks. He can't really remember now. There's Daleks. Daleks. And they're killing everyone and taking the others. And there's Sarah Jane and Martha and a thousand other people they should save. Not Gwen. Not Ianto.
He feels it shatter. Break. Crumble and fail. His heart, he wonders, or his soul? His eyes go dull, then sharper, bright and cutting like glass. He's not Jack, he's the Immortal. He stands. Pushes the hands away. He doesn't need support. Doesn't need comfort. He's got anger, and hatred. Bone deep despair. He's got revenge in his mind and the need for blood on his hands.
He'll kill them all. When he's the last to stand. The last to fall. He'll come back. Keep coming back. They will all die and he won't. Every single one. With their names on his lips. Gwen. His Ianto. He'll make them fall.
He turns to the Doctor. Recognises the fear in his eyes. Shakes it off. It doesn't matter. He's a trained soldier. A fighter. A killer. He's got the gun. Got the power. Lost the conscience in the Hub. Whatever it takes. He'll follow orders. So far. But he'll get his revenge. Their revenge.
See them in Hell? He's already there. He opens the doors. Stops thinking. He fights.
****
It's over. They're gone. Every last one. They're not all dead. But as good as. Or as good as the Doctor will allow. He fought him. Pulled no punches. But the Doctor stood firm. No revenge.
He couldn't win. So they lost. The Daleks fled, an unusual retreat. The Doctor celebrates, on Rose's arm. And there's Donna and Martha with their families in tow. There's Jackie and Mickey. Sarah Jane and Luke.
He stands in the corner. He can't smile. Can't grin. Doesn't care. They're gone. They were his team. All of them. He picked them, trained them. Loved them. Then there was only two, and he loved them even more. Now he's alone. He can't do this again. It's too hard. It hurts.
It's killing him from the inside. Killing him just as fast as his body can heal. He's stuck in a state of limbo. Neither dead nor alive. Worse than being buried. Worse than letting go of a small hand.
Someone touches him and he flinches. He flinches. They call him. He ignores them. But there's more touching, and more calling. His name. His title. His hand. His face. So he looks up. He wants to shout. Wants to tell them to leave him alone. They're gone. And he's all alone now anyway. But they point. And they're smiling at him and they don't have that right.
He looks. And blinks. He rubs his eyes. He clenches his fists and bites through his tongue. He's immortal, it'll heal. But he can see. Can still see them. It's impossible, but then so is he. They're here, not gone. They're searching. For him. Somehow he just knows. Rhys sees him. Rhys. And points and shouts.
They're running and he can't move. Can't close his eyes just in case. They smother him, all three, and he realises his family's just grown. They're alive. He breaks. Again. But it's better. He's thawing and they're here and not dead. He grabs them, hugs them. Kisses them. Doesn't want to let them go ever again. But he does.
And then there's just Ianto. Beautiful, gorgeous Ianto. And he won't let go. Never. Doesn't have to; Ianto's holding back just as tight.
The Doctor's leaving, taking Rose. He knows the offer's coming before it does, and Ianto freezes against him. Gwen's looking with sad eyes. Do they really think he would? He says no. Doesn't matter that Rose is back; he doesn't have a home there. He tells them no and gets more hugs. He smiles again. It's been too long. He's happy and home and they're alive. The Daleks lost and they won. He has Ianto and Gwen. And Rhys. Family.
He holds them close. Turns around. And lives.
End.
Fandom: Doctor Who {Tv Show)
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Genre: Angst
Summary: First Suzie. Then Owen, Tosh. Now Gwen, Ianto...oh god, Ianto...
Warning: Slash
Length: +800
Status: Complete
Spoilers: TW - Exit Wounds, DW - The Stolen Planet
They're gone. He staggers back from the screen. Stumbles. Falls. They're all gone.
Someone catches him, holds him. Lowers him to the floor. Dalek. Exterminate.
It could be the Doctor, or Donna, or Rose; their Rose, his Rose. He doesn't care. Doesn't know. He's here in this big blue box, and they're gone. All gone.
First Suzie. Then Owen, Tosh. Now Gwen, Ianto…oh god, Ianto. There's words and hands and it's probably comfort but what could possibly comfort him? How could any of them possibly comfort him?
They knew. He's seen the footage, knows they heard the alert he didn't. Knows they sent him away when he should have been there. Those smiles as he left, those sad, sad smiles. And his promise; what does it matter now? He told them; they better be okay, and they knew they wouldn't be.
They sent him away, his brave little soldiers. Not soldiers, family. And now they're gone, he saw the screens go black. Heard the word, the command, the guns that couldn't do a thing. Heard Gwen screaming, and his Ianto so stoic, so brave.
There's more whispers. The Doctor didn't change when he should have, they need to know why. Rose is back, and that's good, or it was. He thinks. He can't really remember now. There's Daleks. Daleks. And they're killing everyone and taking the others. And there's Sarah Jane and Martha and a thousand other people they should save. Not Gwen. Not Ianto.
He feels it shatter. Break. Crumble and fail. His heart, he wonders, or his soul? His eyes go dull, then sharper, bright and cutting like glass. He's not Jack, he's the Immortal. He stands. Pushes the hands away. He doesn't need support. Doesn't need comfort. He's got anger, and hatred. Bone deep despair. He's got revenge in his mind and the need for blood on his hands.
He'll kill them all. When he's the last to stand. The last to fall. He'll come back. Keep coming back. They will all die and he won't. Every single one. With their names on his lips. Gwen. His Ianto. He'll make them fall.
He turns to the Doctor. Recognises the fear in his eyes. Shakes it off. It doesn't matter. He's a trained soldier. A fighter. A killer. He's got the gun. Got the power. Lost the conscience in the Hub. Whatever it takes. He'll follow orders. So far. But he'll get his revenge. Their revenge.
See them in Hell? He's already there. He opens the doors. Stops thinking. He fights.
****
It's over. They're gone. Every last one. They're not all dead. But as good as. Or as good as the Doctor will allow. He fought him. Pulled no punches. But the Doctor stood firm. No revenge.
He couldn't win. So they lost. The Daleks fled, an unusual retreat. The Doctor celebrates, on Rose's arm. And there's Donna and Martha with their families in tow. There's Jackie and Mickey. Sarah Jane and Luke.
He stands in the corner. He can't smile. Can't grin. Doesn't care. They're gone. They were his team. All of them. He picked them, trained them. Loved them. Then there was only two, and he loved them even more. Now he's alone. He can't do this again. It's too hard. It hurts.
It's killing him from the inside. Killing him just as fast as his body can heal. He's stuck in a state of limbo. Neither dead nor alive. Worse than being buried. Worse than letting go of a small hand.
Someone touches him and he flinches. He flinches. They call him. He ignores them. But there's more touching, and more calling. His name. His title. His hand. His face. So he looks up. He wants to shout. Wants to tell them to leave him alone. They're gone. And he's all alone now anyway. But they point. And they're smiling at him and they don't have that right.
He looks. And blinks. He rubs his eyes. He clenches his fists and bites through his tongue. He's immortal, it'll heal. But he can see. Can still see them. It's impossible, but then so is he. They're here, not gone. They're searching. For him. Somehow he just knows. Rhys sees him. Rhys. And points and shouts.
They're running and he can't move. Can't close his eyes just in case. They smother him, all three, and he realises his family's just grown. They're alive. He breaks. Again. But it's better. He's thawing and they're here and not dead. He grabs them, hugs them. Kisses them. Doesn't want to let them go ever again. But he does.
And then there's just Ianto. Beautiful, gorgeous Ianto. And he won't let go. Never. Doesn't have to; Ianto's holding back just as tight.
The Doctor's leaving, taking Rose. He knows the offer's coming before it does, and Ianto freezes against him. Gwen's looking with sad eyes. Do they really think he would? He says no. Doesn't matter that Rose is back; he doesn't have a home there. He tells them no and gets more hugs. He smiles again. It's been too long. He's happy and home and they're alive. The Daleks lost and they won. He has Ianto and Gwen. And Rhys. Family.
He holds them close. Turns around. And lives.
End.