Torchwood: It's Not You, Honey, It's The Grief Talking
Title: It's Not You, Honey, It's The Grief Talking
dwtwprompts prompt: Grief
Date Written: 2/21/08
Rating: PG-13/T
Word Count: 1086
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters/Pairings: Jack/Ianto, one-sided Gwen/Jack, Owen and Gwen
Spoilers: Season 1 all the way through, major for "End of Days" and "Cyberwoman"
Warnings: Yaoi/BL/Whatever you want to call it, and het. And Gwen bashing. Lots of Gwen bashing. Sorry, I couldn't help it.
Author's Notes: I always found Gwen to be rather selfish at this point.
When Gwen had brought in Jack's body, the rest of the team nearly deteriorated right then and there. After their discovery that Jack couldn't die, the fact that he had was a huge blow.
It was hard for Ianto to wrap his mind around. Jack was dead. Dead, deceased, gone forever, not coming back. Just like Lisa. He'd already felt the grief so acutely when Owen had shot him, like a hole had been ripped out of his heart, one still healing from the pain of another oh-so-recent loss.
There was no time for grieving, though. They'd had a job to do. So it had been stomped down, locked away. And then, just like that, Jack was back. Alive, breathing, grabbing Gwen's leg and demanding to know what they'd done while he'd been... well, dead.
The loss, the overwhelming joy at him being back with nary a scratch on him, then...
He was so pale now.
Gwen had asked to sit with him, and they'd given her the space. They all needed their own private time to grieve, and Ianto knew it would be easier for him to let out all his emotion when he was somewhere where he knew that the other three weren't staring at him on the CCTV. He'd wait until the others went home, doing some tidying up to clear his mind, then sit with Jack and grieve himself.
But Gwen didn't go home. Nor did she go home after the second day. The third day was when he'd gone into Jack's office to clean it up.
He'd saved Jack's office for last in his deep cleaning of the Hub. He stood in the doorway, and had to close his eyes and stop for a moment; Jack's presence was still alive in the office, and he half expected to hear Jack's voice behind him, low and teasing and pure sex in his ear, saying, Ianto, are you going to go in, or would you prefer it up against the doorframe this time?
He shook himself out of his trance, crossing the floor and reaching over to set Jack's papers in order. Jack always complained about having too many piles of paperwork, although it was fun watching him sweep them off his desk and flutter to the floor whenever he was impatient. He looked about, mentally cataloguing everything that needed to be put away when his eyes caught on Jack's jacket. He went to the coat rack, taking it off the peg. The wool was heavy and coarse in his hands, while the silk lining was soft and smooth under his thumbs. He could still smell Jack on it and he brought it up to his nose, burying his face against the scratchy fabric as he broke down into tears. He knew that Toshiko and Owen could see him. Let them look. He didn't care anymore.
-----
After he'd regained enough composure to seem like himself -- and after he'd washed his face -- he went down to the morgue where Jack's body was still lying on that cold, metal drawer, right next to Suzie. Gwen was still there, dozing a little, but she looked up when she'd heard Ianto's shoes on the walk.
Ianto ignored her, walking over to the other side and looking down at Jack. He was so pale. So terrifying pale. Lisa had been that sort of pale once; she'd passed out from the pain after he'd pulled her from the hell that was Torchwood One, and she'd become so pale he'd thought he'd lost her.
Jack was gone. Mr. "I Can't Die" was dead.
Ianto took his right hand, clutching it in both of his own. The skin was cold and clammy; he'd never feel the warm, reassuring hand on his shoulder or the hot touch of Jack's fingers on his body. Never see those beautiful eyes, never hear his voice calling for a cup of coffee or a file or for someone to get into his office now, thank you. Never hear his laugh, see him smile. Hear him moan in pleasure, whisper Ianto's name softly into his ear.
He closed his eyes and lowered his head against Jack's hand, leaning his cheek against Jack's hand. One final touch, that's all he wanted. One last kiss. He hadn't been able to give that to Lisa.
He'd moved to kiss Jack, but heard Gwen clear her throat. Oh, that's right. She was still there.
He looked up at her and saw her surprised look, and something in him just snapped.
"You know, you're not the only one grieving."
Gwen blinked. "Excuse me?"
"You sit there, acting like the grieving widow, while we don't get to say our good-byes to him." His voice was rising. The others would hear him soon.
"He's not dead; he'll wake up soon--"
"He's dead, you bitch!" Ianto winced inwardly as his voice echoed throughout the Hub. He knew he was lashing out, he knew that now the tears were coming hot and hard down his face but he didn't care. She didn't care about him, so why the hell should he return the favor? "Jack is dead, and he won't be coming back, and you won't let me tell him good-bye! Stop being so fucking selfish! Or do you just want me to act like this never happened too? Should I go bring you some fresh clothes, or maybe you'd like me to give you a sponge bath while I'm at it!"
She looked at him, all wide-eyed and flabbergasted and Ianto just wanted to smack the shit out of her. "That's all I'm good for, apparently! Don't show emotion, Ianto, just clean up their shit, no questions asked! I'm more like your fucking mother than your coworker! You don't care about anyone but yourself!"
"Ianto!"
He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned, to find Owen and Toshiko at his side. Tosh reached over to rub his back, while Owen squeezed his shoulder gently. "Ianto, we're working on fixing the Rift Machine, why don't you come help us?" she said, offering him a smile.
"C'mon, we'll have some tea and a sit before we start, okay?" Owen added, gently starting to guide Ianto out before he reached over Jack's body and strangled the police constable across from him.
Ianto looked at Gwen, sniffling a little, knowing he looked absolutely pathetic and not caring what she thought. "I hate you."
He'd apologize later. Now, he wanted to let it simmer.
dwtwprompts prompt: Grief
Date Written: 2/21/08
Rating: PG-13/T
Word Count: 1086
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters/Pairings: Jack/Ianto, one-sided Gwen/Jack, Owen and Gwen
Spoilers: Season 1 all the way through, major for "End of Days" and "Cyberwoman"
Warnings: Yaoi/BL/Whatever you want to call it, and het. And Gwen bashing. Lots of Gwen bashing. Sorry, I couldn't help it.
Author's Notes: I always found Gwen to be rather selfish at this point.
When Gwen had brought in Jack's body, the rest of the team nearly deteriorated right then and there. After their discovery that Jack couldn't die, the fact that he had was a huge blow.
It was hard for Ianto to wrap his mind around. Jack was dead. Dead, deceased, gone forever, not coming back. Just like Lisa. He'd already felt the grief so acutely when Owen had shot him, like a hole had been ripped out of his heart, one still healing from the pain of another oh-so-recent loss.
There was no time for grieving, though. They'd had a job to do. So it had been stomped down, locked away. And then, just like that, Jack was back. Alive, breathing, grabbing Gwen's leg and demanding to know what they'd done while he'd been... well, dead.
The loss, the overwhelming joy at him being back with nary a scratch on him, then...
He was so pale now.
Gwen had asked to sit with him, and they'd given her the space. They all needed their own private time to grieve, and Ianto knew it would be easier for him to let out all his emotion when he was somewhere where he knew that the other three weren't staring at him on the CCTV. He'd wait until the others went home, doing some tidying up to clear his mind, then sit with Jack and grieve himself.
But Gwen didn't go home. Nor did she go home after the second day. The third day was when he'd gone into Jack's office to clean it up.
He'd saved Jack's office for last in his deep cleaning of the Hub. He stood in the doorway, and had to close his eyes and stop for a moment; Jack's presence was still alive in the office, and he half expected to hear Jack's voice behind him, low and teasing and pure sex in his ear, saying, Ianto, are you going to go in, or would you prefer it up against the doorframe this time?
He shook himself out of his trance, crossing the floor and reaching over to set Jack's papers in order. Jack always complained about having too many piles of paperwork, although it was fun watching him sweep them off his desk and flutter to the floor whenever he was impatient. He looked about, mentally cataloguing everything that needed to be put away when his eyes caught on Jack's jacket. He went to the coat rack, taking it off the peg. The wool was heavy and coarse in his hands, while the silk lining was soft and smooth under his thumbs. He could still smell Jack on it and he brought it up to his nose, burying his face against the scratchy fabric as he broke down into tears. He knew that Toshiko and Owen could see him. Let them look. He didn't care anymore.
-----
After he'd regained enough composure to seem like himself -- and after he'd washed his face -- he went down to the morgue where Jack's body was still lying on that cold, metal drawer, right next to Suzie. Gwen was still there, dozing a little, but she looked up when she'd heard Ianto's shoes on the walk.
Ianto ignored her, walking over to the other side and looking down at Jack. He was so pale. So terrifying pale. Lisa had been that sort of pale once; she'd passed out from the pain after he'd pulled her from the hell that was Torchwood One, and she'd become so pale he'd thought he'd lost her.
Jack was gone. Mr. "I Can't Die" was dead.
Ianto took his right hand, clutching it in both of his own. The skin was cold and clammy; he'd never feel the warm, reassuring hand on his shoulder or the hot touch of Jack's fingers on his body. Never see those beautiful eyes, never hear his voice calling for a cup of coffee or a file or for someone to get into his office now, thank you. Never hear his laugh, see him smile. Hear him moan in pleasure, whisper Ianto's name softly into his ear.
He closed his eyes and lowered his head against Jack's hand, leaning his cheek against Jack's hand. One final touch, that's all he wanted. One last kiss. He hadn't been able to give that to Lisa.
He'd moved to kiss Jack, but heard Gwen clear her throat. Oh, that's right. She was still there.
He looked up at her and saw her surprised look, and something in him just snapped.
"You know, you're not the only one grieving."
Gwen blinked. "Excuse me?"
"You sit there, acting like the grieving widow, while we don't get to say our good-byes to him." His voice was rising. The others would hear him soon.
"He's not dead; he'll wake up soon--"
"He's dead, you bitch!" Ianto winced inwardly as his voice echoed throughout the Hub. He knew he was lashing out, he knew that now the tears were coming hot and hard down his face but he didn't care. She didn't care about him, so why the hell should he return the favor? "Jack is dead, and he won't be coming back, and you won't let me tell him good-bye! Stop being so fucking selfish! Or do you just want me to act like this never happened too? Should I go bring you some fresh clothes, or maybe you'd like me to give you a sponge bath while I'm at it!"
She looked at him, all wide-eyed and flabbergasted and Ianto just wanted to smack the shit out of her. "That's all I'm good for, apparently! Don't show emotion, Ianto, just clean up their shit, no questions asked! I'm more like your fucking mother than your coworker! You don't care about anyone but yourself!"
"Ianto!"
He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned, to find Owen and Toshiko at his side. Tosh reached over to rub his back, while Owen squeezed his shoulder gently. "Ianto, we're working on fixing the Rift Machine, why don't you come help us?" she said, offering him a smile.
"C'mon, we'll have some tea and a sit before we start, okay?" Owen added, gently starting to guide Ianto out before he reached over Jack's body and strangled the police constable across from him.
Ianto looked at Gwen, sniffling a little, knowing he looked absolutely pathetic and not caring what she thought. "I hate you."
He'd apologize later. Now, he wanted to let it simmer.