To Save A Life - Ch.4
Title: To Save A Life
Topic: Torchwood
Pairings: Jack/Ianto
Summary: Sometimes, surviving isn't enough. Sometimes, you need more. Sometimes, you need to loose in order to gain.
Rating: T
Genre: AU, angst, comfort, friendship
When Jack woke, he had no recollection of his dream.
There were tearstains on his face, and several small bruises on his arms, but all Jack could think about was that voice. Someone had been in his room, just talking. The words, he couldn't remember, in fact, he never remembered hearing words. All he remembered was the soothing, calming, beautiful tone that had invaded his mind, and driven out any doubts or fears. After waking up, Jack had felt like he had actually gained some energy from his slumber, instead of coming back to consciousness feeling as if he had been fighting a loosing battle while asleep. The room was empty, but there was a used coffee cup sitting on his small bedside table, a telltale sign that he had received a visitor.
Feeling weak beyond belief and ravenously hungry, Jack decided to investigate. He struggled to sit up in the bed, and let out a large breath of hot air when he realized that his wheelchair was just out of reach. Hooking his arm on the side of the bed to anchor himself, the Captain reached out, his fingertips inches away from the handle of his wheelchair. He leaned over a little more, and felt his fingers slipping. Letting out a surprised yelp, he tumbled to the floor, his body making a large thud as he came in contract with the ground. The wind knocked out of him, Jack just stayed there for a moment, his eyes closed, his breathing labored. When he opened his eyes, instead of getting the full view of the ceiling, he was instead looking into the eyes of a completely amused Welshman, whose hand was outstretched in assistance. Jack swung his arm up and clasped the man's hand, pulling himself up into a sitting position. The Welshman let go of Jack's hand and grabbed the wheelchair, pulling it close enough for Jack to pull himself up onto it. He stood there, watching, not offering assistance. He had seen the look of determination in the Captain's eyes, and didn't want to offend him by asking if he needed help.
Jack got himself situated comfortably in his chair, then folded his arms across his body, more to hide the shaking than anything else. He was weak, and he didn't like it. If he was going to rot away in some god-forsaken hospital for the damned, he might as well look good doing it.
Ianto stood there, smoothing down his tie, realizing that Jack was waiting for something. Coughing, he grabbed the handles of the wheelchair and started to push him toward the cafeteria. "Lunch?"
"Thought you'd never ask." Jack said, a small smile flitting to his face before he pointed out the door and down the hallway, where he knew that the cafeteria was located. The man hadn't been out of his room for food since he had gotten there, but he rode past the kitchen during his long trek one day, and he remembered exactly where it was.
After each of them picked out their food, Ianto had pushed Jack up to the line, where they waited between a doctor and another patient for their turn. When they got to the front of the line, Jack tried to charge the lunch to his room, but Ianto just chuckled and handed the woman his credit card.
They chose a table that was in the corner of the establishment, but near a large window. It was bright outside, a perfect day. They dug in, silent for a few moments as both enjoyed their food. Ianto had bought a sandwich, which he had cut into four meticulous pieces, and was eating slowly, chewing each bite thoroughly. He had already tucked his napkin into his collar to stop any stray crumbs from attacking his suit. Jack, on the other hand, was not as neat. He had piled food on his tray, choosing a sandwich, two slices of pizza, some chicken strips, and a hoagie.
"You should slow down." Ianto stated, pointing with his pinkie, his other fingers on his hand being preoccupied by sandwich. "You'll get sick."
Jack waved away the suggestion, wolfing down another poor chicken strip before washing it away with a large swig of water. "Haven't eaten in…what day did you say it was?"
"Thursday." Ianto replied, glancing outside before back at the Captain, who was nodding.
"Right, that's three days, I think." He paused then, and frowned. "Don't really remember much."
"Good thing, you were a mess."
Awkward silence ensued, broken only by the occasional rustling of napkins and large crunches. Ianto finished his lunch and cleaned up, using his napkin that he had taken from his collar to wipe away any crumbs he had left behind. Then, he slid a little in his chair and took out his small book of poems and opened it to an earmarked page, his eyes running over the well-known lines. He had read this book front to back so many times, but it passed the time, and stopped him from looking at the Captain.
Jack stopped, pizza halfway to his mouth when he saw the book of poems. He glanced up at Ianto's face, then back down to the book, and it clicked. The smooth, Welsh voice, the beautiful yet unrecallable words. "Thanks." He muttered.
Ianto looked up from his book, just catching Jack's mumbled word. He gave a small smile and nodded, then went back to reading.
Jack finished his food and Ianto threw all the trash away. "Where to next, Captain?"
"Outside, my slave." He earned a whack on the head for that one.
They ended up outside near a bench, where Ianto expertly parked the wheelchair before sitting down on the bench himself. Jack let his head fall back and closed his eyes, allowing the suns rays to warm his face. "Why are you here, Ianto Jones, in this horrible place?" Jack asked suddenly, his eyes still closed to the sun.
Ianto stiffened, then sighed, letting his posture go lax as he slumped. If Jack had been paying attention, he would have noticed how tired the man looked, and how young he appeared. "My girlfriend, she's…."
Jack opened his eyes this time, to stare at the man. "I know why she's here. I asked why you are here."
"I can't just leave her." Ianto snapped, instantly feeling horrible.
"But you don't have to spend every second here." Jack pointed out, his hand reaching out to take Ianto's. The Welshman flinched when the man touched him, but he didn't do anything. "You're rotting away in here, like me. Only you have the ability to walk out."
Jack squeezed the Welshman's hand, and was surprised to feel him squeeze back. "Not all injuries are physical."
Jack nodded, the all too familiar screams echoing in his head. He closed his eyes, waiting for the memory to pass. "I'm going to get out here, Ianto."
The Welshman sighed, not understanding the true meaning to Jack's words. "I heard the nurses. They said you only need a few more weeks and some upper body workout and you'll be discharged."
But Jack shook his head. "No Ianto. I'm going to walk out of here."
This time, when Ianto looked into Jack's eyes, he saw fierce, stubborn determination. And he believed him.
--xXx--
Jack wheeled down the hallway to his hospital room, intent on taking a shower, then just being lazy for a while. He had just come from the small gym that the long term section of the hospital had, and was completely wiped out. He had been hitting the gym hard the past week and a half, using it to work off all of his pent up frustration and anger, and to keep his mind off of the useless feeling that had been invading his mind way to much lately. He was working toward building back his upper body complex that he had before being sent to the long term care. He found himself growing stronger every day.
His chair made an annoying squeaking sound as it made it's way down the hallway, and Jack paused to wipe away a bead of sweat that was threatening to drip into his eye. He continued the motion, pushing his hand through his sticky hair, causing it to stick up even more than it already was.
Jack got to his room, but instead of going inside, he went a little further, stopping in the doorway of Lisa Halliet's room, staring in at the young man who was sitting next to the bed.
Jack and Ianto had grown close over the past week and a half. They had made it tradition to get together every day for lunch, and sit outside, may it be rain or shine. It was during those long lunch breaks that they talked to each other and expressed everything that had been bundling up inside. The first couple days, it might as well have been raining, with both men shedding enough tears to flood a small country. It had been strange, seeing the younger man cry. He didn't sob or shake; the only sign of tears were the tracks of water that silently fell down his face. Ianto's voice didn't even crack, it only grew softer.
Jack knew he was a loud crier. He shook, he gasped, he let out these weird cries. He was never one to be the silent mourner, when he was sad, he let people know it. Ianto had been the first one he talked to that he actually said their names. Tosh, Owen, Suzie, Gray…
And as the days went by, Jack found his heart lightening every time he saw the young man, and he would get these little butterflies in his stomach when they touched…Jack knew he was falling for the young man, and it hurt him. Ianto was so dedicated to Lisa, the young woman that he had thrown the past two years of his life for away, and would gladly do so for the rest of his life. It wasn't healthy, although Jack wasn't really the one to talk about that.
He was living a breathing for two things now. One being the young Welshman who wore cute suits and made him smile. The other was the fact that he would walk again, no matter what it took. Jack had been researching, looking for a doctor, any doctor, who could help him up on two feet again. But he had yet to find him, the right doctor. But Jack would keep looking, if it was the last thing he ever did. And he was fine for settling with just looking for someone, but after a few days he grew wrestles. Jack had been found twice in the hallway, sprawled out on the floor, his wheelchair just out of reach. One of those times the handrail that was nailed into the wall was on the ground with him. Jack had also demanded that his wheelchair be left on the other side of the room; every day he would drag himself across the room to get it. Every day, the nurses whispered more, the doctors exchanged desperate glances, and the therapist asked more and more questions. 'Why are you doing this to yourself, Jack?' they would say. 'You need to leave the past in the past, and look to the future.'
But what future did Jack have, if it wasn't flying? The only real certificates he had was his GED from high school. He had applied to NASA's astronaut training facility right out of school. After being turned down because of his sexual orientation, Jack had, after lots of moping and depression, signed up for the Royal Air Force. The end. He couldn't do anything else, and didn't want to do anything else. He couldn't fly without legs, and he didn't want to do anything else, so was there really a choice? Sure, he knew there were plane prototypes that would held the handicapped fly, but it was a joke. Couldn't climb higher than ten thousand feet, it would be like teasing him, taunting him, screaming in his face that he couldn't do it. That Captain Jack Harkness wasn't good enough. That he was a failure.
It was these thoughts that drove him.
Jack spent several seconds longer staring at the Welshman before making his presence known, knocking lightly on the door. Normally, he wasn't one for those kind of formalities, but there was something about Ianto that made Jack want to straighten his philosophical tie and address everyone as 'ma'am' or 'sir.'
Ianto looked up and gave a weak smile before gesturing for the older man to enter. Jack did just that, wheeling up close to the chair. The Welshman didn't look very good -although, most people who were in this place didn't. His eyes had those permanent circles under them, which looked more prominent in the darkness of the room. The shades were drawn, the only light coming from the artificial lights in the hallway.
Jack didn't say anything, he didn't need to. He just slipped his hand into Ianto's, giving a small smile as he felt the man squeeze back. Ianto knew that Jack was gay, it was one of the first things that the Captain had told him. Jack wasn't disgusted at his sexuality like some, and didn't want to befriend Ianto, and then have the man find out. Some people are close-minded, and Jack didn't want to deal with that again. But the other man had just gave a closemouthed smile, a nod, then they went on talking about whatever it was they were talking about. It had made Jack feel warm for the first time in a long time.
Ianto leaned over, resting his head on Jack's shoulder, closing his eyes and breathing shallowly. "I miss her."
"I know Yan, I know." Jack cooed, using his free hand to run through Ianto's hair. The nickname, the term of endearment, had just kinda happened. Jack had used it, and the other man had stiffened up, then promptly got up and left. Jack had found him several minutes later in Lisa's room, crying his heart out. Turns out that was her name for him. Jack had stayed in Lisa's room that night, camping out of the floor and re-telling old war stories until the younger man fell asleep. Jack had started to cry as well as he remembered some of his missions, but he had kept talking. It wasn't his turn to be comforted that night, it was Ianto's.
The next day, Jack had tried hard not to use any other forms of nicknames, until Ianto had said that it was ok. He had looked Jack straight in the eye and said that, truthfully, he had missed it.
"You smell." Ianto muttered into Jack's neck.
The Captain chuckled and continued to run his fingers through Ianto's hair, watching the man as he drifted off to sleep. He was so young, but looked so old. Jack had been surprised when Ianto had told him how old he was. Only 24…
That was how old Gray had been. Jack blinked rapidly. Now was not the time to think about that. So instead he focused on the more regulated aspects of the room. The beeping of the machine as it told everyone that its occupant was still alive and breathing. If you could call that alive.
Jack glanced down at his own legs, which were covered by sweatpants. He had thrown out all of the shorts that the nurses had given him, he didn't want to be able to see his legs, to see the two little tiny sticks that they were becoming. Dr. Jones had said he was one of the lucky ones, that his legs were atrophying at an enormously slow rate for someone who was paralyzed. But Jack saw it as anything but lucky.
He soon found himself drifting off to sleep, the steady beeping of the machines and the constant beat of Ianto's heart helping speed things along.
--xXx--
"Captain?" a pause. "Captain?"
Jack mumbled something incoherent, twisting a bit before waking up. When he finally opened his eyes, he found himself in his own hospital bed, instead of in his wheelchair with Ianto, where he had fallen asleep. He frowned; the Welshman must of woken up and brought him over here. It was becoming an easier job, his legs growing less and less heavy by the day. The Captain sat up slowly in the bed, rubbing his eyes. A hand running through his hair reminded him of the shower he needed, and he glanced at the nurse, giving a small smile. "Yes?"
The nurse - it was Beth - gave him a smile and gestured to the wheelchair, which she was holding on to. "Doctor Jones wants to see you."
Jack raised his eyebrow and threw off his covers, using his arms to swing his legs over the edge of the bed. Beth started to wheel the chair closer, but Jack stopped her with a shake of his head. Hesitantly, he grabbed the side of his bed and pushed himself up. He was standing; all of his weight being balanced through his hands. Beth stood there, letting go of the wheelchair and preparing herself for what would happen next. Jack swung forward, willing his legs to move. As always, they got left behind, causing him to come crashing to the ground.
Beth got there just in time, grabbing Jack before he hit the floor. "Captain, I ask you every time not to do that. You are going to hurt yourself."
Jack gave a fake grin. "As long as you're here to catch me, I don't see the problem."
Beth smiled, hiding the pity in her mind as she helped Jack into the wheelchair. Once they were set, she steered him toward Martha's office.
"Did the good doctor say why she wanted to see me?" Jack asked.
Beth shook her head. "She just said it was important."
Jack frowned as his mind started to go through all of the things that the doctor would want to see him for. Maybe something came up on his last bunch of tests. Could they had misdiagnosed him? He shook his head. No, they would have caught that ages ago. Then, his mind took a turn for the worse. Maybe they found something else, something bad. Could this be the last time he would grace this hallway?
By the time the two of them made it to Dr. Jones' office, Jack had thoroughly freaked himself out. Beth just gave him a smile and knocked on the door for him, then turned and walked away. Jack was so distracted he didn't even shoot a leering thank you the nurses way.
It only took seconds for the door to open, revealing Dr. Jones in all of her splendor. If the situation had been different, Jack would have made sure that every word that came out of his mouth was flirtatious - hey, he's gay, not blind.
As it was, they maintained an almost-friendly relationship, Jack never able to offer her anything more, mostly because he could never get the memory of her telling him of his paralysis out of his mind.
"Jack." She said, a large smile on her face, causing Jack's heart to lift a little. Maybe he had been over exaggerating in his thinking. Martha took a step back, allowing Jack into her office. He wheeled in, and took up post next to a sitting chair. Martha gave a slight frown, the ends of her lips twitching downward slightly, before sitting down in her own chair, moving a bit to get comfortable.
"I've been doing a little bit of research Jack, and I think I found exactly what you need." She folded her hands and used them to prop her chin up, staring at Jack expectantly. He stared back, a blank, confused look in his eyes. What was she talking about?
Martha continued. "Jack, I found the right kind of doctor."
The room was deathly silent. Even the crickets decided now was not the time to chirp. Jack sat stone still in his chair, not daring to move as his mind ran over the words that Martha had just spoken, making sure that he had not misheard. "Are you saying…"
"Yes Jack." Martha said, no longer able to hide her excitement. "You will be able to walk again."
--xXx--
Ianto stopped by Jack's room on his way to Lisa's, wanting to check and make sure that he was still asleep. The man's bed, however, was empty. Ianto shrugged and walked the extra few steps to his initial destination. Jack wasn't there either. The Welshman took up his post in the visitor chair and leaned back. He had kind of been hoping that Jack had been around somewhere, Ianto found that when he was around, the future -and the present- didn't look as bleak as it did when he was alone.
Ianto had been thinking about the man a lot lately, along with spending a ton of time with him. It was strange, normally, Ianto kept to himself. He was the kind of person who went home every day right after work, only to return the next day. He didn't have many friends, and those he did have were Lisa's first. The only times he would go out were if Lisa was with him, and even then it had taken some pleading. Ianto had never taken it among himself to go out and socialize before.
Of course, his friendship with Jack hadn't exactly started out normally. Foiling a suicide attempt was more than likely not written down anywhere in a friend etiquette book. But, the strange situations aside, Jack had been one of the only people that Ianto had ever felt comfortable opening up to. He had told the man things that Lisa didn't even know -a pang of guilt shot through the young Welshman as he glanced at the sleeping beauty. Oh, if only all it took was a kiss.
Ianto stood up and leaned over the bed, brushing his lips across Lisa's. They were cold and unresponsive. How long had it been since he had felt something warm and alive against his lips? Ianto could tell someone the exact day, if they were to ask. Jack had been the first warm touch he had gotten in a long time. Even if Ianto wouldn't admit it, it felt amazing to finally feel something warm in his hand, watch Jack's eyes as he blinked, his facial expressions -which were oh so expressive. He needed that, the feeling of being a live. Someone who could talk, who was awake.
Ianto's hands shook as he lowered himself back down into his chair. It wouldn't last very long, his saving grace from the world of death and coldness. He had heard the nurses talking. Jack was going to be released soon, very soon. He was able to take care of himself, and while they were still worried about his mental health, they were sure that he wouldn't be thinking of killing himself any time soon.
Ianto let out a shaky breath and realized he was crying again. He quickly wiped the tears from his eyes and mentally scolded himself. You've been alone for two years, you can deal with it for a few more. Right?
He glanced at Lisa, another feeling of guilt hitting him. When did he start thinking of himself as alone?
He reached out to grab Lisa's hand and rubbed his thumb over her cool skin gently, zoning off, his eyes growing unfocused on the wall un front of him. The slight feeling of a squeeze jolted him out of his trance. Ianto's eyes focused on Lisa's hand…he could have sworn that he felt…
Slowly, Lisa's eyelids began to flicker.
Topic: Torchwood
Pairings: Jack/Ianto
Summary: Sometimes, surviving isn't enough. Sometimes, you need more. Sometimes, you need to loose in order to gain.
Rating: T
Genre: AU, angst, comfort, friendship
When Jack woke, he had no recollection of his dream.
There were tearstains on his face, and several small bruises on his arms, but all Jack could think about was that voice. Someone had been in his room, just talking. The words, he couldn't remember, in fact, he never remembered hearing words. All he remembered was the soothing, calming, beautiful tone that had invaded his mind, and driven out any doubts or fears. After waking up, Jack had felt like he had actually gained some energy from his slumber, instead of coming back to consciousness feeling as if he had been fighting a loosing battle while asleep. The room was empty, but there was a used coffee cup sitting on his small bedside table, a telltale sign that he had received a visitor.
Feeling weak beyond belief and ravenously hungry, Jack decided to investigate. He struggled to sit up in the bed, and let out a large breath of hot air when he realized that his wheelchair was just out of reach. Hooking his arm on the side of the bed to anchor himself, the Captain reached out, his fingertips inches away from the handle of his wheelchair. He leaned over a little more, and felt his fingers slipping. Letting out a surprised yelp, he tumbled to the floor, his body making a large thud as he came in contract with the ground. The wind knocked out of him, Jack just stayed there for a moment, his eyes closed, his breathing labored. When he opened his eyes, instead of getting the full view of the ceiling, he was instead looking into the eyes of a completely amused Welshman, whose hand was outstretched in assistance. Jack swung his arm up and clasped the man's hand, pulling himself up into a sitting position. The Welshman let go of Jack's hand and grabbed the wheelchair, pulling it close enough for Jack to pull himself up onto it. He stood there, watching, not offering assistance. He had seen the look of determination in the Captain's eyes, and didn't want to offend him by asking if he needed help.
Jack got himself situated comfortably in his chair, then folded his arms across his body, more to hide the shaking than anything else. He was weak, and he didn't like it. If he was going to rot away in some god-forsaken hospital for the damned, he might as well look good doing it.
Ianto stood there, smoothing down his tie, realizing that Jack was waiting for something. Coughing, he grabbed the handles of the wheelchair and started to push him toward the cafeteria. "Lunch?"
"Thought you'd never ask." Jack said, a small smile flitting to his face before he pointed out the door and down the hallway, where he knew that the cafeteria was located. The man hadn't been out of his room for food since he had gotten there, but he rode past the kitchen during his long trek one day, and he remembered exactly where it was.
After each of them picked out their food, Ianto had pushed Jack up to the line, where they waited between a doctor and another patient for their turn. When they got to the front of the line, Jack tried to charge the lunch to his room, but Ianto just chuckled and handed the woman his credit card.
They chose a table that was in the corner of the establishment, but near a large window. It was bright outside, a perfect day. They dug in, silent for a few moments as both enjoyed their food. Ianto had bought a sandwich, which he had cut into four meticulous pieces, and was eating slowly, chewing each bite thoroughly. He had already tucked his napkin into his collar to stop any stray crumbs from attacking his suit. Jack, on the other hand, was not as neat. He had piled food on his tray, choosing a sandwich, two slices of pizza, some chicken strips, and a hoagie.
"You should slow down." Ianto stated, pointing with his pinkie, his other fingers on his hand being preoccupied by sandwich. "You'll get sick."
Jack waved away the suggestion, wolfing down another poor chicken strip before washing it away with a large swig of water. "Haven't eaten in…what day did you say it was?"
"Thursday." Ianto replied, glancing outside before back at the Captain, who was nodding.
"Right, that's three days, I think." He paused then, and frowned. "Don't really remember much."
"Good thing, you were a mess."
Awkward silence ensued, broken only by the occasional rustling of napkins and large crunches. Ianto finished his lunch and cleaned up, using his napkin that he had taken from his collar to wipe away any crumbs he had left behind. Then, he slid a little in his chair and took out his small book of poems and opened it to an earmarked page, his eyes running over the well-known lines. He had read this book front to back so many times, but it passed the time, and stopped him from looking at the Captain.
Jack stopped, pizza halfway to his mouth when he saw the book of poems. He glanced up at Ianto's face, then back down to the book, and it clicked. The smooth, Welsh voice, the beautiful yet unrecallable words. "Thanks." He muttered.
Ianto looked up from his book, just catching Jack's mumbled word. He gave a small smile and nodded, then went back to reading.
Jack finished his food and Ianto threw all the trash away. "Where to next, Captain?"
"Outside, my slave." He earned a whack on the head for that one.
They ended up outside near a bench, where Ianto expertly parked the wheelchair before sitting down on the bench himself. Jack let his head fall back and closed his eyes, allowing the suns rays to warm his face. "Why are you here, Ianto Jones, in this horrible place?" Jack asked suddenly, his eyes still closed to the sun.
Ianto stiffened, then sighed, letting his posture go lax as he slumped. If Jack had been paying attention, he would have noticed how tired the man looked, and how young he appeared. "My girlfriend, she's…."
Jack opened his eyes this time, to stare at the man. "I know why she's here. I asked why you are here."
"I can't just leave her." Ianto snapped, instantly feeling horrible.
"But you don't have to spend every second here." Jack pointed out, his hand reaching out to take Ianto's. The Welshman flinched when the man touched him, but he didn't do anything. "You're rotting away in here, like me. Only you have the ability to walk out."
Jack squeezed the Welshman's hand, and was surprised to feel him squeeze back. "Not all injuries are physical."
Jack nodded, the all too familiar screams echoing in his head. He closed his eyes, waiting for the memory to pass. "I'm going to get out here, Ianto."
The Welshman sighed, not understanding the true meaning to Jack's words. "I heard the nurses. They said you only need a few more weeks and some upper body workout and you'll be discharged."
But Jack shook his head. "No Ianto. I'm going to walk out of here."
This time, when Ianto looked into Jack's eyes, he saw fierce, stubborn determination. And he believed him.
--xXx--
Jack wheeled down the hallway to his hospital room, intent on taking a shower, then just being lazy for a while. He had just come from the small gym that the long term section of the hospital had, and was completely wiped out. He had been hitting the gym hard the past week and a half, using it to work off all of his pent up frustration and anger, and to keep his mind off of the useless feeling that had been invading his mind way to much lately. He was working toward building back his upper body complex that he had before being sent to the long term care. He found himself growing stronger every day.
His chair made an annoying squeaking sound as it made it's way down the hallway, and Jack paused to wipe away a bead of sweat that was threatening to drip into his eye. He continued the motion, pushing his hand through his sticky hair, causing it to stick up even more than it already was.
Jack got to his room, but instead of going inside, he went a little further, stopping in the doorway of Lisa Halliet's room, staring in at the young man who was sitting next to the bed.
Jack and Ianto had grown close over the past week and a half. They had made it tradition to get together every day for lunch, and sit outside, may it be rain or shine. It was during those long lunch breaks that they talked to each other and expressed everything that had been bundling up inside. The first couple days, it might as well have been raining, with both men shedding enough tears to flood a small country. It had been strange, seeing the younger man cry. He didn't sob or shake; the only sign of tears were the tracks of water that silently fell down his face. Ianto's voice didn't even crack, it only grew softer.
Jack knew he was a loud crier. He shook, he gasped, he let out these weird cries. He was never one to be the silent mourner, when he was sad, he let people know it. Ianto had been the first one he talked to that he actually said their names. Tosh, Owen, Suzie, Gray…
And as the days went by, Jack found his heart lightening every time he saw the young man, and he would get these little butterflies in his stomach when they touched…Jack knew he was falling for the young man, and it hurt him. Ianto was so dedicated to Lisa, the young woman that he had thrown the past two years of his life for away, and would gladly do so for the rest of his life. It wasn't healthy, although Jack wasn't really the one to talk about that.
He was living a breathing for two things now. One being the young Welshman who wore cute suits and made him smile. The other was the fact that he would walk again, no matter what it took. Jack had been researching, looking for a doctor, any doctor, who could help him up on two feet again. But he had yet to find him, the right doctor. But Jack would keep looking, if it was the last thing he ever did. And he was fine for settling with just looking for someone, but after a few days he grew wrestles. Jack had been found twice in the hallway, sprawled out on the floor, his wheelchair just out of reach. One of those times the handrail that was nailed into the wall was on the ground with him. Jack had also demanded that his wheelchair be left on the other side of the room; every day he would drag himself across the room to get it. Every day, the nurses whispered more, the doctors exchanged desperate glances, and the therapist asked more and more questions. 'Why are you doing this to yourself, Jack?' they would say. 'You need to leave the past in the past, and look to the future.'
But what future did Jack have, if it wasn't flying? The only real certificates he had was his GED from high school. He had applied to NASA's astronaut training facility right out of school. After being turned down because of his sexual orientation, Jack had, after lots of moping and depression, signed up for the Royal Air Force. The end. He couldn't do anything else, and didn't want to do anything else. He couldn't fly without legs, and he didn't want to do anything else, so was there really a choice? Sure, he knew there were plane prototypes that would held the handicapped fly, but it was a joke. Couldn't climb higher than ten thousand feet, it would be like teasing him, taunting him, screaming in his face that he couldn't do it. That Captain Jack Harkness wasn't good enough. That he was a failure.
It was these thoughts that drove him.
Jack spent several seconds longer staring at the Welshman before making his presence known, knocking lightly on the door. Normally, he wasn't one for those kind of formalities, but there was something about Ianto that made Jack want to straighten his philosophical tie and address everyone as 'ma'am' or 'sir.'
Ianto looked up and gave a weak smile before gesturing for the older man to enter. Jack did just that, wheeling up close to the chair. The Welshman didn't look very good -although, most people who were in this place didn't. His eyes had those permanent circles under them, which looked more prominent in the darkness of the room. The shades were drawn, the only light coming from the artificial lights in the hallway.
Jack didn't say anything, he didn't need to. He just slipped his hand into Ianto's, giving a small smile as he felt the man squeeze back. Ianto knew that Jack was gay, it was one of the first things that the Captain had told him. Jack wasn't disgusted at his sexuality like some, and didn't want to befriend Ianto, and then have the man find out. Some people are close-minded, and Jack didn't want to deal with that again. But the other man had just gave a closemouthed smile, a nod, then they went on talking about whatever it was they were talking about. It had made Jack feel warm for the first time in a long time.
Ianto leaned over, resting his head on Jack's shoulder, closing his eyes and breathing shallowly. "I miss her."
"I know Yan, I know." Jack cooed, using his free hand to run through Ianto's hair. The nickname, the term of endearment, had just kinda happened. Jack had used it, and the other man had stiffened up, then promptly got up and left. Jack had found him several minutes later in Lisa's room, crying his heart out. Turns out that was her name for him. Jack had stayed in Lisa's room that night, camping out of the floor and re-telling old war stories until the younger man fell asleep. Jack had started to cry as well as he remembered some of his missions, but he had kept talking. It wasn't his turn to be comforted that night, it was Ianto's.
The next day, Jack had tried hard not to use any other forms of nicknames, until Ianto had said that it was ok. He had looked Jack straight in the eye and said that, truthfully, he had missed it.
"You smell." Ianto muttered into Jack's neck.
The Captain chuckled and continued to run his fingers through Ianto's hair, watching the man as he drifted off to sleep. He was so young, but looked so old. Jack had been surprised when Ianto had told him how old he was. Only 24…
That was how old Gray had been. Jack blinked rapidly. Now was not the time to think about that. So instead he focused on the more regulated aspects of the room. The beeping of the machine as it told everyone that its occupant was still alive and breathing. If you could call that alive.
Jack glanced down at his own legs, which were covered by sweatpants. He had thrown out all of the shorts that the nurses had given him, he didn't want to be able to see his legs, to see the two little tiny sticks that they were becoming. Dr. Jones had said he was one of the lucky ones, that his legs were atrophying at an enormously slow rate for someone who was paralyzed. But Jack saw it as anything but lucky.
He soon found himself drifting off to sleep, the steady beeping of the machines and the constant beat of Ianto's heart helping speed things along.
--xXx--
"Captain?" a pause. "Captain?"
Jack mumbled something incoherent, twisting a bit before waking up. When he finally opened his eyes, he found himself in his own hospital bed, instead of in his wheelchair with Ianto, where he had fallen asleep. He frowned; the Welshman must of woken up and brought him over here. It was becoming an easier job, his legs growing less and less heavy by the day. The Captain sat up slowly in the bed, rubbing his eyes. A hand running through his hair reminded him of the shower he needed, and he glanced at the nurse, giving a small smile. "Yes?"
The nurse - it was Beth - gave him a smile and gestured to the wheelchair, which she was holding on to. "Doctor Jones wants to see you."
Jack raised his eyebrow and threw off his covers, using his arms to swing his legs over the edge of the bed. Beth started to wheel the chair closer, but Jack stopped her with a shake of his head. Hesitantly, he grabbed the side of his bed and pushed himself up. He was standing; all of his weight being balanced through his hands. Beth stood there, letting go of the wheelchair and preparing herself for what would happen next. Jack swung forward, willing his legs to move. As always, they got left behind, causing him to come crashing to the ground.
Beth got there just in time, grabbing Jack before he hit the floor. "Captain, I ask you every time not to do that. You are going to hurt yourself."
Jack gave a fake grin. "As long as you're here to catch me, I don't see the problem."
Beth smiled, hiding the pity in her mind as she helped Jack into the wheelchair. Once they were set, she steered him toward Martha's office.
"Did the good doctor say why she wanted to see me?" Jack asked.
Beth shook her head. "She just said it was important."
Jack frowned as his mind started to go through all of the things that the doctor would want to see him for. Maybe something came up on his last bunch of tests. Could they had misdiagnosed him? He shook his head. No, they would have caught that ages ago. Then, his mind took a turn for the worse. Maybe they found something else, something bad. Could this be the last time he would grace this hallway?
By the time the two of them made it to Dr. Jones' office, Jack had thoroughly freaked himself out. Beth just gave him a smile and knocked on the door for him, then turned and walked away. Jack was so distracted he didn't even shoot a leering thank you the nurses way.
It only took seconds for the door to open, revealing Dr. Jones in all of her splendor. If the situation had been different, Jack would have made sure that every word that came out of his mouth was flirtatious - hey, he's gay, not blind.
As it was, they maintained an almost-friendly relationship, Jack never able to offer her anything more, mostly because he could never get the memory of her telling him of his paralysis out of his mind.
"Jack." She said, a large smile on her face, causing Jack's heart to lift a little. Maybe he had been over exaggerating in his thinking. Martha took a step back, allowing Jack into her office. He wheeled in, and took up post next to a sitting chair. Martha gave a slight frown, the ends of her lips twitching downward slightly, before sitting down in her own chair, moving a bit to get comfortable.
"I've been doing a little bit of research Jack, and I think I found exactly what you need." She folded her hands and used them to prop her chin up, staring at Jack expectantly. He stared back, a blank, confused look in his eyes. What was she talking about?
Martha continued. "Jack, I found the right kind of doctor."
The room was deathly silent. Even the crickets decided now was not the time to chirp. Jack sat stone still in his chair, not daring to move as his mind ran over the words that Martha had just spoken, making sure that he had not misheard. "Are you saying…"
"Yes Jack." Martha said, no longer able to hide her excitement. "You will be able to walk again."
--xXx--
Ianto stopped by Jack's room on his way to Lisa's, wanting to check and make sure that he was still asleep. The man's bed, however, was empty. Ianto shrugged and walked the extra few steps to his initial destination. Jack wasn't there either. The Welshman took up his post in the visitor chair and leaned back. He had kind of been hoping that Jack had been around somewhere, Ianto found that when he was around, the future -and the present- didn't look as bleak as it did when he was alone.
Ianto had been thinking about the man a lot lately, along with spending a ton of time with him. It was strange, normally, Ianto kept to himself. He was the kind of person who went home every day right after work, only to return the next day. He didn't have many friends, and those he did have were Lisa's first. The only times he would go out were if Lisa was with him, and even then it had taken some pleading. Ianto had never taken it among himself to go out and socialize before.
Of course, his friendship with Jack hadn't exactly started out normally. Foiling a suicide attempt was more than likely not written down anywhere in a friend etiquette book. But, the strange situations aside, Jack had been one of the only people that Ianto had ever felt comfortable opening up to. He had told the man things that Lisa didn't even know -a pang of guilt shot through the young Welshman as he glanced at the sleeping beauty. Oh, if only all it took was a kiss.
Ianto stood up and leaned over the bed, brushing his lips across Lisa's. They were cold and unresponsive. How long had it been since he had felt something warm and alive against his lips? Ianto could tell someone the exact day, if they were to ask. Jack had been the first warm touch he had gotten in a long time. Even if Ianto wouldn't admit it, it felt amazing to finally feel something warm in his hand, watch Jack's eyes as he blinked, his facial expressions -which were oh so expressive. He needed that, the feeling of being a live. Someone who could talk, who was awake.
Ianto's hands shook as he lowered himself back down into his chair. It wouldn't last very long, his saving grace from the world of death and coldness. He had heard the nurses talking. Jack was going to be released soon, very soon. He was able to take care of himself, and while they were still worried about his mental health, they were sure that he wouldn't be thinking of killing himself any time soon.
Ianto let out a shaky breath and realized he was crying again. He quickly wiped the tears from his eyes and mentally scolded himself. You've been alone for two years, you can deal with it for a few more. Right?
He glanced at Lisa, another feeling of guilt hitting him. When did he start thinking of himself as alone?
He reached out to grab Lisa's hand and rubbed his thumb over her cool skin gently, zoning off, his eyes growing unfocused on the wall un front of him. The slight feeling of a squeeze jolted him out of his trance. Ianto's eyes focused on Lisa's hand…he could have sworn that he felt…
Slowly, Lisa's eyelids began to flicker.