Just Like A Jones 16/25
TITLE: Just Like A Jones
Chapter: 16/25
Rating: g - nc-17 for the whole series
Pairing/Characters: Jack/Ianto. Mica. Martha. Gwen/Rhys. Lois. Johnny/Rhiannon. OC's
Synopsis: Mica may be a Davies, but sometimes she acts like a Jones. Set 13 years in the future. The world is a very different place, and Torchwood is a world that Jack doesn't want to know, but a promise made a long time ago brings him back to their door whether he likes it or not. Mica is in awe of a past she didn't know and a man she barely remembers, but her passion for his world takes her on a journey she never expected.
Spoilers: Aftermath of COE.
Disclaimer: Not mine, if it was this woul not need to be written.
A/N - I shall make you happy! jut watch me! happy fix.
Thanks. Thanks to everyone who has replied so far XD. As i have said before it was lack of feedbak that made me give up before, but the comment i got for ch8 made me so happy and confident and determined to keep going for this fandom. )
a/n - no update tomorrow. bloody 24hr shift.
PART 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15
Mica emptied the antidote into Ianto's neck and then stepped away.
It was morning now, and after she and Jack had caught a few hours sleep, it was time to start the process. Jack had stripped Ianto's top half down and covered him up to his chest with a blanket and the wires attached to his head and his chest were rigged up to a computer on the table by the bedside. He was showing no sign of brain activity or heartbeat.
“So, now what?” Jack said. “We just sit and wait?”
“Yeah.” Mica sat down on the windowsill and rested her head on the board that covered the glass. “It took roughly four or five minutes for the mice to start showing signs, but his body has more mass ad there's more for the antidote to reach.”
Jack sighed. “Could be a while before we know then.”
“Yeah. A few hours probably.”
He walked over and joined her on the window. Jack wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close. “If this doesn't work--”
“It will.”
“But, if it doesn't.” Jack closed his eyes and rested his head on the window. “No more tries. I lost him once and it broke my heart, I lost him twice and it took every piece of that it didn't break before. But to lose him again like this?” He shook his head. “I can't torture myself that way because this pain is forever. ”
“Okay.” Mica took his hand. “One last chance and that's it.”
“But, it'll work right?”
She smiled. “ Yeah. It'll work.”
“Good.”
She looked around; the house was dirty and dingy, hardly the place for any kind of scientific procedure, and the dust on the surfaces was an inch thick. “I think I should try and tidy this place up a little bit. Make it nicer and more comfortable.”
“Good idea.”
“I'll take the boards off the front windows too, it'll give us some light, and then see if I can make that kitchen hygienic.”
Jack looked over at Ianto. “I'll just it here and wait. Someone has to watch him.”
“I don't think so.” Mica picked up the car keys and gave them to him. “It'll kill you just sitting there waiting, you can go to the shop and get us some things. Food most specifically, I'm starving.”
“But Ianto--”
She pulled him up. “I'm here to look after him, plus you'll just drive yourself insane. We passed a shop in the last village.” Mica grabbed his coat and pushed it into his hands, then marched him towards the door. “Milk, eggs, tea, coffee, sugar, bread, butter, cornflakes and whatever you else you think of.”
“But--”
Mica opened the door and pushed him out. “I'll call you if there's any change.”
She took a long sigh and looked at the house. It was a mess; all the furniture was covered in old dusty sheets and the rug that covered the floorboards was so dusty she was unsure what colour it had once been. She sat down on the old sofa and took her mobile out her pocket. “Mam it's me.”
~~~~~*~~~~~
Mica stepped back in the front room and admired her handy work. The furniture wasn't as bad as she expected it to be underneath the big greying dust sheets, just a mass of ugly red corduroy and mismatched cushions. Jack had taken down the boards when he got back from the shop to save her injured shoulder and the light was starting to pour through the murky windows that she hadn't yet cleaned. She had found a few pair of curtains in the Ottoman in one of the two bedrooms and despite being a little musty were in a good state. It was pushing shabby chique to a new level, but it was homely, sort of, and comfortable.
She walked into the kitchen, now clean enough to be hygienic and filled the kettle, then popped a few slices of bread into the toaster. Her stomach was rumbling.
“Mica!” She heard Jack shout from the bedroom. “Mica!”
She ran into the room; Jack was at the computer.
“What is it?”
Jack smiled. “A heartbeat, it's small but it's there.”
“Let me see.” Mica went to the computer and Jack moved to Ianto's bedside, perching on the edge. “There's the smallest hint of a brainwave, like its there but its not.”
Jack put his hand on Ianto's cheek and let out a noise that was halfway between a laugh and a sigh. His skin was starting to change colour from blue to grey, and the coldness had lost its edge. “He's still cold,” Jack said, “but not the same.”
Mica put her hand on his shoulder. “He's coming back.”
“It certainly looks that way.” He put his hand on Ianto's chest. “I don't-- I can't believe it until there's more though.”
“No, no of course not.”
Jack smiled. “But just to know that his heart is working in some way, it makes me feel like I got something back in mine.” He stroked Ianto's cheek. “A mend in one of the weak spots.”
“He'll make it you know?”
“You think so?”
“I can feel it.”
Jack kissed Ianto's lips softly and smiled against them when he felt the warmth of a breath and closed his eyes to enjoy it. “He's breathing.” He stroked his hair and edged up the bed a little. “Ianto?”
He waited for a moment and looked at him; he expected something more, something other than silence, but it never came. He wanted him to open his eyes so he could stare into the sea of blue, or grasp his hand and let him feel his warmth, but nothing happened.
“He's not waking up.” Jack cupped his face and caressed his cheeks. “Why isn't he opening his eyes?”
“He will.” She put her hand on his shoulder. “Give him time.”
“I need to see his eyes again.”
“And you will. Why don't you come and see the nice new kitchen and have some breakfast?” She offered her hand to him.
“I'm not leaving his side until he wakes up.” Jack took Ianto's hand. “He did the same for me once.”
“I'll bring you some tea and toast.”
~~~~~*~~~~~
Jack sat on a chair that Mica had found in the other bedroom and held Ianto's hand. He had been like that for hours now, just sitting and waiting patiently for his lovers eyes to open as he clutched his hand and stroked his hair. Ianto had been breathing for eleven hours but showed no signs of regaining consciousness; his heartbeat was a little stronger and his breathing seemed more normal, but still the Welshman didn't wake.
“Are you here yet?” Jack leaned in close. “Can you hear me, do you even know I'm here?” He kissed his knuckles and rested his lips there for a moment, thinking. “I think you do, I think you know that I'm here holding your hand, and I think you can feel it. Maybe you're trying to get to me but can't quite reach. That time that you sat by my hospital bed and talked to me I heard it, every word, and when you said that you watched me sleeping I just wanted to get to you to tell you that I did it too.”
He watched the easy rise and fall of his chest. Ianto looked like he was sleeping, except there was no sign of movement underneath his eyelids, or gentle tug of a smile on his lips. He hadn't moved in his sleep, turning onto his left like he had always done, or made that faint little moan that he would make sometimes when the weather got hot.
“You thought you were a blip in my time line, just one of the people I used to pass the time and warm my bed, but you were wrong. Sometimes I wish you were a blip.” Jack felt the heat in his eyes as he looked at him breathing but not moving. “Maybe if you had just been one of the ones that didn't matter then I could have moved on and forgot all about how good it felt to be with you.”
“I would have never left you y'know.” Jack swallowed down the lump in his throat and tried to breathe through the heat. “I would've been happy to watch you grow old and grey. You would have been a silver fox.” he closed his eyes and rested his lips on Ianto's knuckles. “It can see you like that. Silver hair, blue eyes and a three-piece that always looks perfect. Like Philip Schofield,” he smiled, “you always said I had a thing for him. I think you were even jealous sometimes.”
“But he never had your eyes. He doesn't have the beauty in them that you do.” Jack let a tear roll down his cheek. “I'm scared I'll never see those eyes again.”
~~~~~*~~~~~
Mica washed up the last of the empty cups and put them away in the cupboard. It was late, almost midnight, and it had been a long day. She switched the light off and knocked on the bedroom door.
“Jack?”
Mica walked in and closed the door behind her, then smiled. Jack was sitting back in the chair, his eyes closed lightly against his cheeks. His hand still brushed Ianto's in his sleep, barely touching but never breaking contact.
It had been eighteen hours since Ianto had been given the antidote and fourteen since he started breathing, but was still unconscious. She checked the laptop and brought up his stats; his heart rate was steady and his breathing regular, but he showed no sign of improvement. It was like he was stuck halfway between the land of the living and the world of the dead. Mica adjusted his pillow, fluffing it up a little underneath his head, then pulled his blanket over his chest to keep him warm.
She walked over to Jack, being careful not to wake him, and covered him over with a blanket then kissed his cheek.
“Goodnight boys.”
Mica switched off the light.
“Any change?” Jack's voice was groggy as he arched his back and stretched out.
“He's stable,” she said, “which is what we want.”
Jack was silent for a moment.
“Do you want the bed? I can sleep on the sofa.”
“No.” Jack' neck clicked as he moved it. “I'll stay here.”
“You've been in here all day.” She stood behind him and put her hands on his shoulders. “Maybe you need a break for a while.”
“I'm fine here.”
There was silence for a moment as she watched Jack; he held Ianto's hand and kissed his lips softly.
“Are you going to be all right?”
Jack said nothing.
“Jack?”
“I talked to him today” he said, “I thought I should have a go.”
“They say you should.”
“Ianto used to think that it was just something that the Doctors told you to do to make you feel useful.” He smiled sadly. “But when he talked to me I could hear him, kind of like a voice in the distance trying to call out. I thought maybe he could hear me too.”
“I hope he can.”
“You haven't been here much,” Jack said, “I don't mean to make you feel pushed away.”
“You don't.” Mica sat on Ianto's bed opposite Jack. “He doesn't know me, at least not looking like this. I think it might scare him if he wakes up and I'm here.”
“You won't.” Jack sighed. “What if he doesn't wake up at all?”
“Give it time.”
“But what if--”
“Stop it!”
“Stop what?”
“Self pitying.” She pulled Jack up by his hand and dragged him out of the room and into the living room, then thrust a leather-bound book into his chest. “You're not that Jack he knows. The Jack he will come back for isn't self pitying, he isn't a quitter. In fact he's anything but.”
“What's this?”
“Bedtime reading.”
~~~~~*~~~~~
DATE: February 15th 2009
TIME: Some Ungodly hour
It's late now. Too late to call night, but too early to call it morning. It's that time where the sun cant decide whether to come out or not and the orange glow can just be seen over the horizon, battling with indecision.
He's sleeping, but he's not smiling for once.
It wasn't the Valentines day we had planned. It wasn't dinner at St. David's hotel followed by a night in the penthouse (Plan A), or even fish and chips by the bay (plan B). Instead it was another normal night, another side-effect of the rift and the shit that comes through.
It was blood and fear; another child screaming in agony as the Weevils decided to take them for a mid-evening snack whilst they were playing.
Kids
Always the bloody kids. They're young and defenceless and the Weevils don't seem to have any sense of what they're doing.
She was just a little girl, no older than six or seven, with blood matted into her long blonde hair. We could hear her screaming when we found her, she was crying for her mother, but her mother never came. It was just a matter of moment before she was dead and I couldn't help thinking that she was no older than my own niece.
The images never go away; the sight of a kid bleeding out. They burn into the backs of your eyes and imprint themselves into your memory for all eternity.
For me eternity is short. Not for Jack. I would hate to be inside his mind.
We abandoned our plans at the hotel to go and see her mother; the girl's name was Molly, I knew her family well. Her dad was in my class at school, utter bastard to be honest (he used to all me a faggot and throw my shoes over the power lines on the way home. I had to go home barefoot. Mam went mental.) But as he looked at me tonight with that look on his face, trying to figure out if he knew me, I forgot about it all. He was another father who lost a child, another person who hated me just because I told them that their child was dead. There was nothing we could do.
He swung for me. He missed. I forgave him.
We came home and got straight into bed. We fucked. It wasn't the way it was meant to be, but we both needed it.
Tonight was the night we were meant to make love; we were supposed to have dinner and retire to the penthouse and make love. We should have woken up happy and dazed. We should have showered together and lazed around until the next day; we paid for two days just to have the pleasure of that.
That was not to be.
Maybe next year will be better, maybe it will be worse, maybe I wont even be here to see it.
Jack will.
~~~~~~*~~~~~~~
PART 17 HERE