To Save A Life - Ch.5
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
She lay there, unmoving - blank. Her chest rose and fell, just slightly faster than before. Her hands were still as cold as before, and she was unresponsive to his touch, but Ianto knew that something had changed - that something, somewhere inside, had woken up.
Her eyes remained open, staring at the ceiling, but seeing nothing. She wouldn't blink, her pupils didn't dilate, and her eyes didn't twitch when he waved his hand in front of them. The doctors, they said it was just a reaction - a twitch - a very delayed reflex. But Ianto thought differently. It was her way of telling him not to give up, that she was in there, somewhere, trying to get out. She just needed time.
He hadn't left her room since she had 'spoken' to him. Didn't leave from his chair, didn't change his clothes - he didn't allow himself to. What if she woke up when he was gone? What if she was scared and needed him to hold her, but all she got was a 'sorry, he was out for a bite?' Ianto wouldn't forgive himself.
Two days. He had been sitting in that chair for two days. Stubble covered his normally clean chin. His suit was rumpled and his tie was drooping. His hair was far from being it's meticulous self. No food, the only refreshments being the small cups of water that the nurses had brought in. They had brought in a tray of food for him the first day, but it had just sat there - Ianto had lost his appetite.
A noise caused him to jump - it had been so quiet the past few hours that any noise startled him. His eyes zeroed in on Lisa, and he let out a disappointed breath as he realized that the sound didn't come from her or any of the machines monitoring her. Then his eyes turned toward the door, where they fell upon Jack in his wheelchair. The man was sitting there in the doorway, his arms laying on a large duffel bag sitting in his lap, a sad look on his face. Ianto would have rolled his eyes, but that would have required energy. Instead, he just stared back with dull, tired eyes. Jack should have been happy - and long gone by now, if the Welshman's internal clock was still working. Jack opened his mouth, ready to say something, but Ianto turned his back, not prepared to hear the man's words - scared that he would break, finally start to cry.
Ianto didn't even hear the squeak as the wheelchair turned and left.
"Ianto! Ianto! Yan! …. Damn it!"
Jack's loud and enthusiastic voice rang out through the ward as he sped down the hallway in his wheelchair, crashing into the wall as the corner cut a sharp right. He quickly corrected his course and moved even faster, his arms pumping as they flew over the large wheels. It was the fastest that Jack had ever gone and his arms were burning, but he didn't notice - that or he didn't care. His head was too full of the words he had just heard, and the information he had been given. The small printed block letters on the sheet of stationary were imprinted in his head and flashed in front of his eyes, causing his smile to grow even larger than he thought possible. Jack couldn't even remember the last time he had smiled this big - felt this alive.
"Ianto!" Jack flew past the man, who was standing right outside of Lisa's hospital room, looking in through the small glass panel of the door. The Captain quickly braked and spun around, rolling up - slowly - to the Welshman. Jack hesitated for a heartbeat, noticing how shaken the younger man looked. His voice toned down, and worry seeped into his words. "Yan…you ok?"
Ianto turned and looked at Jack, as if just realizing he was there. He shook his head and blinked a few times and gave a small, unconvincing smile. "Yup. I'm fine."
Jack raised his eyebrow and craned his neck, trying to look into Lisa's room to figure out why Ianto was so distracted. He was too far down, however, and all he could see was the pattern of the grain on the wood they used to make the doors. He mentally shrugged, and excitement overwhelmed him again as he remembered exactly why he had been screeching down the hallway to begin with. "It's happening, Ianto! I'm - I'm getting my legs back! I'm going to be able to walk - to run - to fly! I'm going to be able to fly again!"
He grabbed the man with both hands at his elbows and shook him as he yelled with excitement, hardly able to stop from laughing. Jack pulled himself out of his wheelchair and hung onto Ianto, hugging the life out of the man. The Welshman reacted, hugging his back, a large smile growing on his face. "I'm…I can't believe it, Jack!"
Jack pulled back a bit, unburying his face from Ianto's stomach. He reached up and kissed the other man gently on the lips, then squeezed the air out of his lungs again, unaware of the small blush that had crawled onto Ianto's cheeks. Jack finally sat back in his wheelchair and looked at the other man directly in the eyes, reaching out and taking his hand, holding it tight. "I…I want you to come with me."
The smile dropped off of Ianto's face and he pulled his hand from Jack's grasp. "What."
Jack's smile dropped a notch, but he didn't stop. "I want you to come with me! Martha said I needed someone to help me through all the prep and recovery after. You - you're all I have."
But Ianto had turned and was staring once again through the window - at Lisa, lying on the bed. "How can you just ask me to leave? To leave her, Jack? She's all I've got!"
Jack slumped in his chair. "Ianto, you've thrown away two years of your life for her - don't you think that's enough? You need to live again, start over! Please - come to America with me."
This got Ianto to turn around, anger sparking through his grief-filled eyes. "Enough?! I loved her Jack! Does that mean anything to you? I - I can't just leave and go to America! I have a life here! With Lisa!"
"Lisa?" Jack asked, disbelieving. "You mean the woman who is rotting away in that bed? I hate to break it to you Ianto, but she's gone!"
"Don't say that!" Ianto screamed. He turned around and before Jack knew what was happening, he got hit square in the jaw. He grunted in surprise as he was pushed backwards by the force. He hadn't locked his wheels, and as the chair rolled back a little, it caught and tipped sideways, dumping him out and onto the floor. He struggled to get up, make eye contact, his anger having taken him over. He should have stopped, should have just stayed there, silent, until Ianto realized what he had done. They would have hugged and said sorry and moved on. But Jack couldn't do that. Not now. "You're pathetic. You complain about being here, in this situation, but you do nothing! If you love her so much, why haven't you pulled the plug? Let her die! Anything is better than being a vegetable!"
Ianto, jaw set, tears streaming down his face, kicked the wheelchair, sending it spinning several feet away from the fallen man, where it remained on its side. "You can say that, can't you, because that decision was made for you when everyone that you were responsible for died!"
Then he yanked open the door to Lisa's room and slammed it shut, falling against the wood as soon as it had closed. Ianto slid down until he hit the floor and just stayed there, pulling his knees to his chin then wrapping his arms around his legs. He buried his face and allowed himself to cry. Anger because of the words that Jack had yelled, frustration because he couldn't do anything about the situation, sadness because the one woman he had ever loved was lying there - all but dead, and the one man who made him smile was leaving. He cried it all out until there was nothing left.
Jack felt his arms shake underneath him, and he allowed his arms to cave, bringing him to the ground once more. And there he lay, silent tears falling down his face - no sobbing, hiccupping - just tears, until one of the nurses came on her rounds and found him there.
Captain Jack Harkness sat in the airport, staring at the cheap television plastered on the wall, not really paying attention as the images flickered past. His hands gripped the small bag that he was carrying onto the plane - the majority of his belongings all fit in a medium sized duffel bag that he had checked. He fidgeted with the edge of his shirt, buttoning the cuff, unbuttoning it. He glanced down at his legs then back up at the screen, his eyes riveted on the time. He only had a few minutes until they would start boarding. Only a few minutes to say goodbye to Cardiff - to Wales - To England. Then he would be in the air, the next land he would touch would be American soil. Jack reached into his pocket and looked at his phone, half wishing for a missed call to be blinking at him. He flipped it open and scrolled to his contacts, where he started at the name "Ianto Jones" for several minutes before snapping it shut. The man had made himself clear, he didn't want to bother him.
"Attention passengers, we will now start boarding of flight 3342 with service to Los Angeles, California, United States. Passengers who are in need of assistance or have small children under the age of five, please have your ticket ready and approach the gate."
Jack stuffed his phone back into his pocket and straightened up in his wheelchair, giving the television one last glance before wheeling himself up to the gate, his ticket sticking out of the pocket on his carry-on. He passed the paper to the flight assistant standing behind the desk without a smile of a flirtatious comment. He didn't protest as she wheeled him down the ramp and into the plane. He withheld any innuendo that came to mind as she and another attendant helped him into his seat and asked him if he needed anything.
Once he was settled, the two women gave him a generic smile before going to help with the other people who were boarding. Jack was situated in the window seat of his row, and he turned himself in his seat in order to get a better view of the outside. The sight he was taking in wasn't exactly the best view of Cardiff - all he could see was the tarmac and blinking lights, the metal buildings of the airport and the planes rolling around. But it was enough, and as he let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding, his breath caught. Jack closed his eyes and sat back in his chair. He should be so excited! He was going to America to get his legs back - to be able to walk again, to fly again. He was getting the only thing he wanted…so why did he feel like this?
He glanced at his cell phone again, frowning as it only showed him the time. No missed calls.
"You'll be leaving in two days." Martha said as she stood up from behind her desk and walked to her filing cabinet. She fitted the key into the hole and opened the top drawer with a click. She took out a file then closed it, locking the drawer once more. She then handed the information to Jack, who was still reeling in surprise. "His name is Doctor John Smith. He's an American, and is very good at what he does."
Jack opened the file, his hands working on their own. His mind was still trying to wrap itself around the fact that he would be walking again. He still couldn't believe it - he was waiting for someone to pop out from a corner and yell 'surprise!' But the longer he waited, and the more seconds that passed by without anyone yelling that word, he grew more and more excited.
"I know two days is really abrupt, but it was that or nothing. You have no idea how much I had to go through to get yourself on this guy's list, Jack, and even though the rate of your atrophy is miraculously slow, if I had waited any longer, you wouldn't be a candidate for this. There are hundreds of paraplegics lined up behind you for this, it was now or never." Martha rested her hand comfortably on Jack's shoulder. "I pulled a lot of strings for this - I believe that you are the most qualified person for this, but you aren't guaranteed to be chosen…"
"I…I don't know what to say, Doc." Jack said, wiping the tears of joy that were starting to spill over. "You've…you're…"
He drifted off, turning and embracing the woman in a large huge. "I'd kiss you if I didn't think I'd get slapped…." Jack mumbled, and Martha laughed, kneeling down so that she could get level with the Captain and give him a real hug. After the moment was over, Jack turned back to the right situation in his seat and started to read the pamphlet.
It was some kind of 3-step process. He would be going to a clinic located in Los Angeles. For two months he would go through some kind of prep process, including this new, clinical electro-shock therapy to reverse the atrophy in his legs - a process that was invented by the wonderful Doctor Smith. After the two month period, he would go through major surgery on both legs, during which the Doctor would implant small chips in all of the main joints of his legs. These chips, each working as mini computers, will interact with a brace that Jack would have to wear on both of his legs. There would be a large pack he would have to strap on his back, which housed the battery life and the central computer for the device. There would be a mini computer on Jack's wrists, which he would type in a command, such as climb up the stairs or sit down. The mini computer would send a signal to the pack on his back, which in turn would tell the chips in his legs what to do. The braces would help him stay upright, since his legs weren't actually doing any work. He would also have to walk around with crutches. It certainly wasn't a miracle, but it was damn close. He would never be able to run or do much beyond basic actions, but it was better than rotting away in a wheelchair. The last leg of the process was learning how to use the actual equipment. The brochure stated that it could take anywhere from a month to a year.
Jack stopped at one part of the information and backtracked, reading it again. It preferred that you brought someone along with you, to help with the pre and post operation therapy, along with moral support. Of course - it said - if he would rather attempt this on his own, a personal nurse would be assigned. But Jack, after reading those words, had one name to pop into his mind, and suddenly, he couldn't wait to tell him.
"Attention passengers, flight 3342 is about to pull out, please remain in your seats until we take flight. At this time, please turn off all cell phones and electronic devices and turn your attention to the flight attendants as they go over some safety information."
A beep followed the words, and the plane intercom turned off. Jack opened his eyes and dug his fingers into his pocket, giving a small smile to the woman who had sat down next to him, who was doing the same. His finger hovered over the 'off' button, and as he was about to hit it, it started to ring.
'Ianto Jones' calling.
Jack answered it without a second thought. "Hello?"
"Captain Harkness? This is Lisa's nurse, Jessica. I - I know that you are about to leave, but something has happened…"
"What is it?" Jack sad, sitting up straight in his seat.
"It's about Lisa…she's…she's passed away." The nurse said, and her voice was strained, as if she had been yelling or crying recently.
Jack's heart automatically plummeted as he thought about Ianto, and what he must be going through. The planes engines turned on, and the vibrations shot through his body. A flight attendant approached him, telling him to turn off his phone. He ignored her. "What happened? Is Ianto alright?"
"Actually, sir, that's why I'm calling. Mr. Jones, well, he's gone a bit nutters…he won't let us take Lisa's body, claiming that she isn't dead. When we try to talk to him, he just clams up - won't let us near him or the body…only thing he's said in the past hour is your name."
All around Jack, he felt the plane begin to move toward the tarmac, heading toward the take-off lane.
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
She lay there, unmoving - blank. Her chest rose and fell, just slightly faster than before. Her hands were still as cold as before, and she was unresponsive to his touch, but Ianto knew that something had changed - that something, somewhere inside, had woken up.
Her eyes remained open, staring at the ceiling, but seeing nothing. She wouldn't blink, her pupils didn't dilate, and her eyes didn't twitch when he waved his hand in front of them. The doctors, they said it was just a reaction - a twitch - a very delayed reflex. But Ianto thought differently. It was her way of telling him not to give up, that she was in there, somewhere, trying to get out. She just needed time.
He hadn't left her room since she had 'spoken' to him. Didn't leave from his chair, didn't change his clothes - he didn't allow himself to. What if she woke up when he was gone? What if she was scared and needed him to hold her, but all she got was a 'sorry, he was out for a bite?' Ianto wouldn't forgive himself.
Two days. He had been sitting in that chair for two days. Stubble covered his normally clean chin. His suit was rumpled and his tie was drooping. His hair was far from being it's meticulous self. No food, the only refreshments being the small cups of water that the nurses had brought in. They had brought in a tray of food for him the first day, but it had just sat there - Ianto had lost his appetite.
A noise caused him to jump - it had been so quiet the past few hours that any noise startled him. His eyes zeroed in on Lisa, and he let out a disappointed breath as he realized that the sound didn't come from her or any of the machines monitoring her. Then his eyes turned toward the door, where they fell upon Jack in his wheelchair. The man was sitting there in the doorway, his arms laying on a large duffel bag sitting in his lap, a sad look on his face. Ianto would have rolled his eyes, but that would have required energy. Instead, he just stared back with dull, tired eyes. Jack should have been happy - and long gone by now, if the Welshman's internal clock was still working. Jack opened his mouth, ready to say something, but Ianto turned his back, not prepared to hear the man's words - scared that he would break, finally start to cry.
Ianto didn't even hear the squeak as the wheelchair turned and left.
"Ianto! Ianto! Yan! …. Damn it!"
Jack's loud and enthusiastic voice rang out through the ward as he sped down the hallway in his wheelchair, crashing into the wall as the corner cut a sharp right. He quickly corrected his course and moved even faster, his arms pumping as they flew over the large wheels. It was the fastest that Jack had ever gone and his arms were burning, but he didn't notice - that or he didn't care. His head was too full of the words he had just heard, and the information he had been given. The small printed block letters on the sheet of stationary were imprinted in his head and flashed in front of his eyes, causing his smile to grow even larger than he thought possible. Jack couldn't even remember the last time he had smiled this big - felt this alive.
"Ianto!" Jack flew past the man, who was standing right outside of Lisa's hospital room, looking in through the small glass panel of the door. The Captain quickly braked and spun around, rolling up - slowly - to the Welshman. Jack hesitated for a heartbeat, noticing how shaken the younger man looked. His voice toned down, and worry seeped into his words. "Yan…you ok?"
Ianto turned and looked at Jack, as if just realizing he was there. He shook his head and blinked a few times and gave a small, unconvincing smile. "Yup. I'm fine."
Jack raised his eyebrow and craned his neck, trying to look into Lisa's room to figure out why Ianto was so distracted. He was too far down, however, and all he could see was the pattern of the grain on the wood they used to make the doors. He mentally shrugged, and excitement overwhelmed him again as he remembered exactly why he had been screeching down the hallway to begin with. "It's happening, Ianto! I'm - I'm getting my legs back! I'm going to be able to walk - to run - to fly! I'm going to be able to fly again!"
He grabbed the man with both hands at his elbows and shook him as he yelled with excitement, hardly able to stop from laughing. Jack pulled himself out of his wheelchair and hung onto Ianto, hugging the life out of the man. The Welshman reacted, hugging his back, a large smile growing on his face. "I'm…I can't believe it, Jack!"
Jack pulled back a bit, unburying his face from Ianto's stomach. He reached up and kissed the other man gently on the lips, then squeezed the air out of his lungs again, unaware of the small blush that had crawled onto Ianto's cheeks. Jack finally sat back in his wheelchair and looked at the other man directly in the eyes, reaching out and taking his hand, holding it tight. "I…I want you to come with me."
The smile dropped off of Ianto's face and he pulled his hand from Jack's grasp. "What."
Jack's smile dropped a notch, but he didn't stop. "I want you to come with me! Martha said I needed someone to help me through all the prep and recovery after. You - you're all I have."
But Ianto had turned and was staring once again through the window - at Lisa, lying on the bed. "How can you just ask me to leave? To leave her, Jack? She's all I've got!"
Jack slumped in his chair. "Ianto, you've thrown away two years of your life for her - don't you think that's enough? You need to live again, start over! Please - come to America with me."
This got Ianto to turn around, anger sparking through his grief-filled eyes. "Enough?! I loved her Jack! Does that mean anything to you? I - I can't just leave and go to America! I have a life here! With Lisa!"
"Lisa?" Jack asked, disbelieving. "You mean the woman who is rotting away in that bed? I hate to break it to you Ianto, but she's gone!"
"Don't say that!" Ianto screamed. He turned around and before Jack knew what was happening, he got hit square in the jaw. He grunted in surprise as he was pushed backwards by the force. He hadn't locked his wheels, and as the chair rolled back a little, it caught and tipped sideways, dumping him out and onto the floor. He struggled to get up, make eye contact, his anger having taken him over. He should have stopped, should have just stayed there, silent, until Ianto realized what he had done. They would have hugged and said sorry and moved on. But Jack couldn't do that. Not now. "You're pathetic. You complain about being here, in this situation, but you do nothing! If you love her so much, why haven't you pulled the plug? Let her die! Anything is better than being a vegetable!"
Ianto, jaw set, tears streaming down his face, kicked the wheelchair, sending it spinning several feet away from the fallen man, where it remained on its side. "You can say that, can't you, because that decision was made for you when everyone that you were responsible for died!"
Then he yanked open the door to Lisa's room and slammed it shut, falling against the wood as soon as it had closed. Ianto slid down until he hit the floor and just stayed there, pulling his knees to his chin then wrapping his arms around his legs. He buried his face and allowed himself to cry. Anger because of the words that Jack had yelled, frustration because he couldn't do anything about the situation, sadness because the one woman he had ever loved was lying there - all but dead, and the one man who made him smile was leaving. He cried it all out until there was nothing left.
Jack felt his arms shake underneath him, and he allowed his arms to cave, bringing him to the ground once more. And there he lay, silent tears falling down his face - no sobbing, hiccupping - just tears, until one of the nurses came on her rounds and found him there.
Captain Jack Harkness sat in the airport, staring at the cheap television plastered on the wall, not really paying attention as the images flickered past. His hands gripped the small bag that he was carrying onto the plane - the majority of his belongings all fit in a medium sized duffel bag that he had checked. He fidgeted with the edge of his shirt, buttoning the cuff, unbuttoning it. He glanced down at his legs then back up at the screen, his eyes riveted on the time. He only had a few minutes until they would start boarding. Only a few minutes to say goodbye to Cardiff - to Wales - To England. Then he would be in the air, the next land he would touch would be American soil. Jack reached into his pocket and looked at his phone, half wishing for a missed call to be blinking at him. He flipped it open and scrolled to his contacts, where he started at the name "Ianto Jones" for several minutes before snapping it shut. The man had made himself clear, he didn't want to bother him.
"Attention passengers, we will now start boarding of flight 3342 with service to Los Angeles, California, United States. Passengers who are in need of assistance or have small children under the age of five, please have your ticket ready and approach the gate."
Jack stuffed his phone back into his pocket and straightened up in his wheelchair, giving the television one last glance before wheeling himself up to the gate, his ticket sticking out of the pocket on his carry-on. He passed the paper to the flight assistant standing behind the desk without a smile of a flirtatious comment. He didn't protest as she wheeled him down the ramp and into the plane. He withheld any innuendo that came to mind as she and another attendant helped him into his seat and asked him if he needed anything.
Once he was settled, the two women gave him a generic smile before going to help with the other people who were boarding. Jack was situated in the window seat of his row, and he turned himself in his seat in order to get a better view of the outside. The sight he was taking in wasn't exactly the best view of Cardiff - all he could see was the tarmac and blinking lights, the metal buildings of the airport and the planes rolling around. But it was enough, and as he let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding, his breath caught. Jack closed his eyes and sat back in his chair. He should be so excited! He was going to America to get his legs back - to be able to walk again, to fly again. He was getting the only thing he wanted…so why did he feel like this?
He glanced at his cell phone again, frowning as it only showed him the time. No missed calls.
"You'll be leaving in two days." Martha said as she stood up from behind her desk and walked to her filing cabinet. She fitted the key into the hole and opened the top drawer with a click. She took out a file then closed it, locking the drawer once more. She then handed the information to Jack, who was still reeling in surprise. "His name is Doctor John Smith. He's an American, and is very good at what he does."
Jack opened the file, his hands working on their own. His mind was still trying to wrap itself around the fact that he would be walking again. He still couldn't believe it - he was waiting for someone to pop out from a corner and yell 'surprise!' But the longer he waited, and the more seconds that passed by without anyone yelling that word, he grew more and more excited.
"I know two days is really abrupt, but it was that or nothing. You have no idea how much I had to go through to get yourself on this guy's list, Jack, and even though the rate of your atrophy is miraculously slow, if I had waited any longer, you wouldn't be a candidate for this. There are hundreds of paraplegics lined up behind you for this, it was now or never." Martha rested her hand comfortably on Jack's shoulder. "I pulled a lot of strings for this - I believe that you are the most qualified person for this, but you aren't guaranteed to be chosen…"
"I…I don't know what to say, Doc." Jack said, wiping the tears of joy that were starting to spill over. "You've…you're…"
He drifted off, turning and embracing the woman in a large huge. "I'd kiss you if I didn't think I'd get slapped…." Jack mumbled, and Martha laughed, kneeling down so that she could get level with the Captain and give him a real hug. After the moment was over, Jack turned back to the right situation in his seat and started to read the pamphlet.
It was some kind of 3-step process. He would be going to a clinic located in Los Angeles. For two months he would go through some kind of prep process, including this new, clinical electro-shock therapy to reverse the atrophy in his legs - a process that was invented by the wonderful Doctor Smith. After the two month period, he would go through major surgery on both legs, during which the Doctor would implant small chips in all of the main joints of his legs. These chips, each working as mini computers, will interact with a brace that Jack would have to wear on both of his legs. There would be a large pack he would have to strap on his back, which housed the battery life and the central computer for the device. There would be a mini computer on Jack's wrists, which he would type in a command, such as climb up the stairs or sit down. The mini computer would send a signal to the pack on his back, which in turn would tell the chips in his legs what to do. The braces would help him stay upright, since his legs weren't actually doing any work. He would also have to walk around with crutches. It certainly wasn't a miracle, but it was damn close. He would never be able to run or do much beyond basic actions, but it was better than rotting away in a wheelchair. The last leg of the process was learning how to use the actual equipment. The brochure stated that it could take anywhere from a month to a year.
Jack stopped at one part of the information and backtracked, reading it again. It preferred that you brought someone along with you, to help with the pre and post operation therapy, along with moral support. Of course - it said - if he would rather attempt this on his own, a personal nurse would be assigned. But Jack, after reading those words, had one name to pop into his mind, and suddenly, he couldn't wait to tell him.
"Attention passengers, flight 3342 is about to pull out, please remain in your seats until we take flight. At this time, please turn off all cell phones and electronic devices and turn your attention to the flight attendants as they go over some safety information."
A beep followed the words, and the plane intercom turned off. Jack opened his eyes and dug his fingers into his pocket, giving a small smile to the woman who had sat down next to him, who was doing the same. His finger hovered over the 'off' button, and as he was about to hit it, it started to ring.
'Ianto Jones' calling.
Jack answered it without a second thought. "Hello?"
"Captain Harkness? This is Lisa's nurse, Jessica. I - I know that you are about to leave, but something has happened…"
"What is it?" Jack sad, sitting up straight in his seat.
"It's about Lisa…she's…she's passed away." The nurse said, and her voice was strained, as if she had been yelling or crying recently.
Jack's heart automatically plummeted as he thought about Ianto, and what he must be going through. The planes engines turned on, and the vibrations shot through his body. A flight attendant approached him, telling him to turn off his phone. He ignored her. "What happened? Is Ianto alright?"
"Actually, sir, that's why I'm calling. Mr. Jones, well, he's gone a bit nutters…he won't let us take Lisa's body, claiming that she isn't dead. When we try to talk to him, he just clams up - won't let us near him or the body…only thing he's said in the past hour is your name."
All around Jack, he felt the plane begin to move toward the tarmac, heading toward the take-off lane.