Just Like A Jones 18/25
TITLE: Just Like A Jones
Chapter: 18/25
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. )
PART 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17
Mica walked into the bedroom and took the Diary from Jack's sleeping hands and closed it. She didn't know just how may time he had read it in the last two and a half days, but she was sure he could quote it by heart without even reading it now.
She kissed his head and shook him awake.
“I made you some breakfast,” she said, “Your favourite.”
Jack opened his eyes, then closed them again as he stretched. “I'm not really hungry.” His words came out as a yawn.
“I don't care.” She pulled him to his feet. “You're eating it.”
Jack arched his back in a stretch, walked over to the computer and typed away at the keys. “I'll just do a scan first.”
“Already done.”
“And?”
“A little improvement.” She pulled him by his hand into the living room and guided him towards the table. “His retina scan shows some improvement, his motor skills are a little better and his heart rate is normal again.”
“That's good news I suppose.”
“Good news?” she said. “It's great news.”
“Yeah.” Jack smiled and cut through the middle of a large fried tomato.
“His diaries are interesting, aren't they?”
Jack nodded. “It's like being inside his mind.”
“A bit too much sometimes. I wish he had held back a little during some of his more graphic moments.”
“I like them.” Jack's grin was larger than Mica had seen it for a while. “He never spoke that way, it's nice to know he was human.”
“I have to block a lot out. Eurgh. Not good mental images. I skimmed a lot.”
“He' going to kill you, he hates people reading his diary.” Jack sighed. “Three weeks I had to suffer the first time I read it. Three whole weeks without--”
“I know!” she cut him off and shuddered visibly. “I don't want the image.”
“Sorry.”
Mica tucked into her breakfast. “I went out to the shop this morning, the one down by the pub.”
“Yeah?”
“You will never guess what they've got.” she didn't wait for him to answer. “They've got Cheeto's”
Jack looked up. “Cheeto's? I've not seen Cheeto's in years.”
“I know. I checked the date and everything, they're imported. I got some.”
An erratic beeping came from the direction of the bedroom and Jack left the table kicking his chair over on the way. He stumbled into the room, Mica not far behind him, and went to Ianto's side. His eyes were open darting around the room; his mouth was wide open as though gasping for air.
“His vitals are going crazy.” Mica rushed to the corner of the room and took a syringe that Martha had left behind, then filled it. “Looks like a pain reaction.”
Ianto tried to call out, but his voice could not be found, and a mixture of terror and pain drowned his young features.
“Ianto!” Jack took his hand and called his name, but Ianto's body couldn't respond.
Mica administered the pain relief and stood back, watching Ianto as his body relaxed. The erratic beeping of his vitals became slower until they returned to stable levels and his eyes closed again as he drifted into a sleep.
Jack put his hand on Ianto's face and ran his fingers over his cheek. “What did you give him?”
“Pain relief,” she said, “Martha predicted this.”
“I didn't think he would wake up like that.” He sighed, closing his eyes; a tear fell. “I know that pain. Burning. It feels like your body is on fire as it mends itself.”
Mica sat down beside him on the bed and wrapped her arm around him. “You don't know that's what he's feeling.”
“I know that look,” he said, “the pain. The fear.”
“He's just sleeping now Jack. He's just knocked out by the painkillers.” She smiled a little. “We'll get the pain under control and he'll be with you again.”
“With us.” Jack corrected.
She smiled a little. “Us.”
Jack looked at him for a moment. “He can't speak, he can't move. Can he?”
Mica shook her head. “I noticed that too.”
Jack leaned down to Ianto and touched his face. “What have I done?”
“Jack--”
“I brought him back, and for what? So he can be in pain, so that his body can burn?”
“So that you get another chance.” Mica stood up. “I'll call Martha. She wanted to be kept informed on his condition.”
Mica walked away and closed the door behind her, leaving the two men together in the room.
He kissed Ianto's lips softly. “I'm sorry.”
~~~~~*~~~~~
Martha pulled back Ianto's eyelids and flashed a torch in his eyes; the pupil reacted to the light.
Jack stood against the door, his hands in his pockets, and looked down at the floor. “Martha?”
“Mmm-hmm?” She continued to check him over.
“Did I do the right thing?”
“Are you asking for my opinion?” She turned around to face him, putting her torch back into her pocket.
“Yeah.”
“You're not going to like it.”
“I can take it.”
Martha sighed. “No.”
“Okay.” Jack's voice was unusually small, like a child getting a talking to.
“I don't agree with this. I think it's immoral and wrong and if it was anyone else I would have given him a fatal injection the moment I stepped into the room.”
“Then why didn't you?”
Martha took off her gloves and walked over to Jack. “Because you would never forgive me. Would you?”
“No. I wouldn't.”
Silence filled the room. “He's in excruciating pain, Jack.”
“I know.” His voice cracked a little as he spoke.
“But it can be controlled, not completely but I think I can work out a dose that would give him relief and still allow him to be conscious.”
“Thank you.”
She packed away her things. “I have to go. I'm late for a meeting.”
Jack nodded. “I'll keep in touch.”
Martha walked over to him again and put her bag down on the ground; she wrapped her arms around him and drew him into a hug. “I hope you get him back.”
“Do you think I will?”
“Maybe.” She pulled back to look him in the eyes. “He's healing, maybe he'll heal fully. But you have to be prepared that he might not. The pain might not go away and he may never get his motor skills back, he might never speak.”
Jack closed his eyes and a tear rolled down his cheek. “So he could be like this forever?”
“I hope he won't be but I wouldn't be your friend if I didn't prepare you for the worst.”
Jack nodded.
“Stay positive though.” She wiped his tears. “Don't lose your faith. It could be a while before he comes around again. You should get some rest.”
He smiled a little. “Is that an order ma'am?”
“Absolutely.” She took out her pen and wrote something down, then handed him the piece of paper. “Here's the dose. Every four hours. Any questions, call me.”
~~~~~*~~~~~
The back garden was even more overgrown than the front; with a lawn that was closer to resembling the jungle than a little stone cottage in the Welsh countryside, a garden fence held together only by a few rusty nails and a shed that looked as though it would fall down if you looked at it long enough. The pond was covered in moss that moved in the breeze and the fish that once lived under the surface were almost certainly dead. Weeds took over the rockeries and nettles wrapped themselves around the only living flowers, suffocating their beauty with hard pointy thistles.
It was a mess.
But the view beyond it, past the weeds and the moss and the overgrown grass, was spectacular. Hills and Valleys as far a the eye could see, one country road and a mist that was so Welsh it was verging on poetic. The rain was coming, waiting patiently in the heavy silver clouds in the sky; it was strangely beautiful.
“Looks like rain.”
Mica walked down the uneven steps that stretched out from the kitchen carrying two mugs of tea and sat down beside him on the Park bench. It had seen better days.
“Yeah.” Jack smiled and sniffed the air. “Smells like it too. I love the Welsh countryside.”
“Really?” she handed him a up of tea. “I prefer Barbados.”
“You've never been to Barbados.”
“No. But I like the idea of it.”
Jack smiled a little and wrapped his arm around her. “I think this garden could really be something special. Cut down the grass, de-moss the pond, a little weeding, maybe a few flowers here and there. What do you think?”
“I suppose.”
Jack pointed to the corner of the garden. “Maybe a little deck over there with some heated lamps and a big umbrella thing where we could enjoy the view.”
Mica nodded. “It sounds very domestic,” she said, “too domestic for you.”
“I could do domestic.” He picked up Ianto's diary. “We could be domestic. Normal.”
“Could you?” Mica didn't sound convinced. “You would be happy with a ho-hum life would you?”
“It doesn't need to be ho-hum. We could still have some excitement. Ianto could get a job doing something that he liked and I could find something to do too. We could get dogs. Ianto likes dogs.”
“And you two would be happy just to live normal lives and stay away from danger and aliens and Torchwood, would you?”
“I think so.” Jack looked into the distance. “Torchwood is too dangerous for him, he needs a normal job.”
“He loved Torchwood.”
“I'm not going to have him die again.” Jack sighed. “I want him safe.”
“You can't wrap him up in cotton wool, Jack, you'll suffocate him. It'll drive him insane.”
Jack sighed. “I know. I just think normality could be good for us y'know? We could still have excitement. I'd take him travelling to wherever, and whenever he wanted.”
“Yeah, some people go to The Costa Del Sol, you go to Tyranicaria to see the velvet volcano's.”
“Something like that.” Jack sighed. “I need to lay some roots Mica. I have a family now, I just want to stay around for a while and enjoy that.” He opened the diary to a page and gave it to her. “He wanted normality.”
DATE: Saturday 9th May 2009
TIME: Sleepy time for Ianto and Jack.
Gwen and Rhys looked so happy today.
We tried the double date thing (Gwen begged!)
The film was okay, although having spent nine hours at work the last thing I wanted to see was Science fiction. The restaurant was nice; I had steak and Jack chose the chicken (Gwen and Rhys both had the Red Thai curry). After that we went to a bar down the bay and sat upstairs with a view over the water. I had sex on the beach and Jack had a long hard screw, then afterwards we had a screaming orgasm and a slippery nipple (cocktails obviously... well not 'obviously', you never know with Jack.)
We had had a nice night. I bonded with Rhys over rugby and then me and Gwen talked about why she should never wear Orange. Rhys and Jack worked out their testosterone levels by playing a game of pool. Rhys won; Jack sulked. I kissed it better and we forgot where we were for a moment in the haze of the Tequila shots. Gwen coughed loudly and I wasn't embarrassed; the wonder of alcohol, eh?
It was a good night, that was, until we went home.
Jack held my hand. I love that. And we followed Gwen and Rhys a few steps behind.
They looked so ordinary to me, so much in love, as they made their way towards their flat.
They are Mr. & Mrs. Williams. They have bills with both names on and joint burdens. They fight like cat and dog, then Gwen comes over to mine for a coffee to slag him off. After a while, though, she starts to talk about all the annoying things that she loves. She goes home to him and they watch telly, drink wine, then go to sleep.
I don't get that with him.
We are Mr. Jones and Captain Harkness. He lives alone, and so do I; we share no burdens, even if we do talk about them. When we fight me make up straight after, and seal it with some absolutely brilliant sex. Really. It is fantastic sex. Bloody marvellous.
Mica shuddered visibly at the image as she read it.
We have something that we don't even categorise.
Are we together? Of course.
Are we a couple? Who knows.
Are we normal? Not on your life.
We'll never have normality the way that Gwen and Rhys do, and sometimes i'm not sure how I feel about that.
I can see Jack from here. He's in the bedroom trying to work out how to take off his trousers without falling over; his head is balanced on the door frame and his tongue is sticking out his mouth in concentration.
Now he's on the floor.
I never get over seeing Jack Harkness bladdered.
Maybe this is as normal as we will ever get
PART 19 HERE.