[FIC - Torchwood] Kiss Today Goodbye {Part 1} | Jack/Ianto (PG-13)
TITLE: Kiss Today Goodbye [Part 1]
AUTHOR: thescarletwoman
RATING: PG-13
PAIRING: Jack/Ianto
SUMMARY: Some things aren't always what they seem and a little faith goes a long way.
WORD COUNT: ~2100
SPOILERS: Children of Earth; Trace Memory (mentioned in passing)
NOTES: Yes, another of the Fix-It fics. Thanks to flameish for the insanely quick beta. Also written for fanfic100, prompt "072. Fixed". For obvious reasons. ;^)
Part One | Part Two
Kiss today goodbye,
And point me t'ward tomorrow.
We did what we had to do.
Won't forget, can't regret
What I did for love
-- What I Did for Love; A Chorus Line
Darkness. The cold darkness enveloped him like a friend and, this time, Jack succumbed to it. He welcomed the emptiness with open arms, his body finally giving out even as he cradled Ianto's lifeless body against his chest. Jack floated in that void for countless hours... or maybe it was minutes. It was hard to tell any more. There was no way to judge the passage of time in a place that consisted of nothingness.
For once, it was a comfort.
This was twice now, twice that he had lost someone in his arms. Michael had hurt -- even for the brief amount of time they had known each other. Ianto, however... Jack clung to the void, wanting to stay here as long as he could. Yes, he knew it was akin to giving up, but he needed the time to pull himself together. He wasn't sure he was ready to face Gwen and the accusation in her eyes that he had taken Ianto in there. Hell, if he had been thinking clearly, he never would have agreed to it; never would have taken his mortal lover into that room to taunt the 456. What on earth had he been thinking? Soon, though, (and far too soon for Jack's tastes) the void began to lighten and Jack could feel himself rising back to the murky surface of the land of the living.
Slowly, he breathed in. No pain this time... just a reawakening. Jack kept his eyes closed for another moment, wanting to cling to the comfort of darkness.
At last though, Jack opened his eyes, staring up at the vaulted ceiling above him before quickly shutting them once more. It was enough to know that the virus had filtered out of his system. The cold plastic that separated his body from the floor felt clammy beneath his hands, and Jack didn't have to glance down to know he was in a body bag once more. He didn't want to turn his head, didn't want to see the bags near him -- what he could see out of his peripheral vision was enough to chill him to the bone.
He didn't want that final confirmation...
There had been the vain hope that Ianto was still alive; that in those final moments before another of Jack's many lives had been snuffed out he could put enough of his life force into Ianto. He had done it once before, had he not? A kiss to bring Ianto back from death and back to him. Deep down, Jack knew it was a foolish hope but one he clung to as long as possible. Ianto would be there in a moment, threading his fingers through Jack's hair and waiting for him to come back. The longer Jack waited without a comforting touch, the more Jack knew he was so very much alone.
No matter how Jack wanted to avoid the issue at hand, he couldn't postpone the inevitable. With a deep breath, Jack pulled himself into a sitting position, outer extremities still feeling strange though Jack attributed it to the fact that his body was still metabolising whatever virus had been pumped into the room. Still numb, Jack turned and slid behind Gwen, gathering the woman into his arms. It was only then that curiosity got the better of him and Jack looked at the body in front of her.
Had it been possible to feel, Jack knew his heart would have broken again, but he was too numb to do anything other than stare. There before him Ianto lay, cold and lifeless: all the things he never would have labelled Ianto. The tears slipped down his face and Jack couldn't stop them from falling. There was no point in being strong for Gwen, there was no point to anything.
"There's nothing we can do."
The words lanced through him, somehow bespeaking the utter hopelessness of the situation. One arm wrapped around Gwen while Jack's free hand lowered to trace Ianto's features -- features he knew so well and could map with his eyes closed. A final touch to cement it in his mind: he had promised Ianto he never would forget him and that was a promise he would keep. All the way to the end of the universe, Ianto's memory would travel with him and Jack would keep him in that small chamber of his heart.
Ianto had changed Jack, and changed him for the better. While they may not have seen eye to eye on many issues, there was one thing Jack knew for certain: with Ianto he was a better man. He knew it was cliché to say, but it was the truth, Ianto was a positive influence -- acting as a conscience when Jack was ready to run off half-cocked, and able to talk sense into him. And when the world went to hell in a hand basket, Ianto was always there to pick up the pieces, sometimes with a word of comfort but always with a light touch that spoke volumes. Now, that voice of reason was gone, and he would never have the opportunity to hear those Welsh vowels again.
"No," Jack said, his voice echoing in his ears. "There's nothing."
At some point, Gwen unwound herself from Jack's arms and went to... do whatever it was she needed to do. Call Rhys, Jack assumed. Right now, Jack didn't care. Her absence gave Jack the opportunity to say his final goodbyes in private. There were some things Jack couldn't say in the company of others. Hell, he could barely say the words to Ianto as it was, quieting him in those final moments. Returning the words then felt like he was cheapening what they had; that he could only say 'I love you' when he was about to lose his lover. Their relationship had always been about what wasn't said: reading between the lines and letting actions speak louder than words. It was Jack's caresses and the way that he looked at Ianto that said 'you're the one I love'.
"It was good," Jack said softly, straightening Ianto's tie. "And I don't care what you think... whatever you thought, I won't. Forget you, that is. Funny how it's when you lose someone that you truly realise what they mean to you. I always knew, don't get me wrong." His fingers moved along Ianto's jaw and, if he closed his eyes, he could swear Ianto leaned into the gentle touch. God, he was losing it, wasn't he?
Three simple words and, even now, he couldn't return them. Somehow, saying 'I love you' to a body lessened the sentiment -- they were words said to the air because Jack knew that Ianto was gone by now. There was nothing left but the husk of a man, albeit a well dressed one. Ianto's tie may have been straightened already, but Jack found himself tugging on the silky fabric, moving the knot to sit perfectly between the points of his collar. The waistcoat was next, Jack smoothing out non-existent wrinkles. It seemed right somehow, Ianto was always fussing with his clothing, and there were times Jack wondered if it was a compulsive behaviour or because Ianto needed to do something with his hands.
As it was in the void, Jack wasn't sure how long he sat there, just staring. Behind him, he could hear footsteps: soldiers or other civilians walking amongst the dead, identifying them. Occasionally Jack would hear the gut-wrenching sob and he knew someone else was recognised, a father or sister no longer coming home to a waiting family. Oh how Jack could sympathise.
Death was a fact of his life, plain and simple. Jack knew he would always lose lovers and friends, destined to be the wandering captain unable to find peace. However, just for once, he'd thought he had found it. Just once Jack had thought he could have a few years of comfort amidst the rest of the world crumbling around his ears. Oh how wrong he had been.
"I'm sorry, Ianto," Jack finally said, brushing his fingers across Ianto's eyelids. He could feel the moisture gathering at the corners of his eyes but, as he had when Gwen was there, he did nothing to stop them. In the past, Ianto had been the one person Jack could let in, the only one he could drop the walls around himself and simply be. Now, in death, he knew Ianto deserved whatever emotion he could muster. "No matter what you may have thought, it's my fault. I never should have let you come in. Always at my side, there were times I forgot your mortality. Or, maybe, I didn't want to remember."
The tears began to fall in earnest, Jack sitting beside his lover and tracing his face with his fingers. So cold and so lifeless and Jack could feel a little more of his heart seal away with each passing moment. Jack had lost lovers in the past, but it had never felt like this; he never had the same gut wrenching feeling -- though perhaps that was the guilt speaking.
"I'm sorry," he repeated, contorting his body to press his lips to Ianto's in a final kiss. "I'm sorry I failed you. When it counted the most... I failed you."
Jack straightened, the last of the tears falling and staining Ianto's waistcoat. He simply wasn't ready to say goodbye.
"Jack."
Now he knew he had lost it. Hearing voices, even if they were whispered weakly, was the first sign that insanity was setting in. It was a case of too much wishful thinking: wanting to hear Ianto's voice, praying he'd wake, praying for any sign of life. He had to get out of here before he drove himself mad.
"Jack."
Weaker this time, barely audible. Good. His sanity was winning the battle.
No, he couldn't do this any more. He had to get out of here and do what he did best: save the world. There had already been too much death and he had already cocked things up too much. It was time to get on and do what he had to do, the way Ianto would have wanted him to. It didn't matter that Jack felt dead inside and he knew the look was reflected in his eyes. Frankly, Jack didn't know if he'd ever regain that spark. Perhaps he was being over dramatic, too wracked in his guilt to see the larger picture. All Jack knew was that he'd never felt like this before, never before had it felt like a part of him had died along with his lover.
As he had so many times before, Jack leaned forward and kissed Ianto's forehead. "I love you," he murmured against the skin, giving in at long last. Jack realised he needed to say it, even if Ianto could no longer hear him. It was like dealing with coma patients, it helped the ones left behind to talk even if they were beyond the realm of consciousness. "I love you," Jack repeated, "and I'm so sorry."
"I know."
Jack wasn't sure what jolted him out of his reverie first: receiving a response or the cold hand against his cheek. Jack opened his eyes, flinching, and scuttled back away from what had been Ianto's corpse, getting tangled in his body bag in the process. So this was what it felt like for the others when he gulped in the breath of life in front of them. But Ianto wasn't immortal. Ianto had died in his arms.
Ianto was currently staring up at Jack, eyes wide open.
Oh God.
AUTHOR: thescarletwoman
RATING: PG-13
PAIRING: Jack/Ianto
SUMMARY: Some things aren't always what they seem and a little faith goes a long way.
WORD COUNT: ~2100
SPOILERS: Children of Earth; Trace Memory (mentioned in passing)
NOTES: Yes, another of the Fix-It fics. Thanks to flameish for the insanely quick beta. Also written for fanfic100, prompt "072. Fixed". For obvious reasons. ;^)
Part One | Part Two
Kiss today goodbye,
And point me t'ward tomorrow.
We did what we had to do.
Won't forget, can't regret
What I did for love
-- What I Did for Love; A Chorus Line
Darkness. The cold darkness enveloped him like a friend and, this time, Jack succumbed to it. He welcomed the emptiness with open arms, his body finally giving out even as he cradled Ianto's lifeless body against his chest. Jack floated in that void for countless hours... or maybe it was minutes. It was hard to tell any more. There was no way to judge the passage of time in a place that consisted of nothingness.
For once, it was a comfort.
This was twice now, twice that he had lost someone in his arms. Michael had hurt -- even for the brief amount of time they had known each other. Ianto, however... Jack clung to the void, wanting to stay here as long as he could. Yes, he knew it was akin to giving up, but he needed the time to pull himself together. He wasn't sure he was ready to face Gwen and the accusation in her eyes that he had taken Ianto in there. Hell, if he had been thinking clearly, he never would have agreed to it; never would have taken his mortal lover into that room to taunt the 456. What on earth had he been thinking? Soon, though, (and far too soon for Jack's tastes) the void began to lighten and Jack could feel himself rising back to the murky surface of the land of the living.
Slowly, he breathed in. No pain this time... just a reawakening. Jack kept his eyes closed for another moment, wanting to cling to the comfort of darkness.
At last though, Jack opened his eyes, staring up at the vaulted ceiling above him before quickly shutting them once more. It was enough to know that the virus had filtered out of his system. The cold plastic that separated his body from the floor felt clammy beneath his hands, and Jack didn't have to glance down to know he was in a body bag once more. He didn't want to turn his head, didn't want to see the bags near him -- what he could see out of his peripheral vision was enough to chill him to the bone.
He didn't want that final confirmation...
There had been the vain hope that Ianto was still alive; that in those final moments before another of Jack's many lives had been snuffed out he could put enough of his life force into Ianto. He had done it once before, had he not? A kiss to bring Ianto back from death and back to him. Deep down, Jack knew it was a foolish hope but one he clung to as long as possible. Ianto would be there in a moment, threading his fingers through Jack's hair and waiting for him to come back. The longer Jack waited without a comforting touch, the more Jack knew he was so very much alone.
No matter how Jack wanted to avoid the issue at hand, he couldn't postpone the inevitable. With a deep breath, Jack pulled himself into a sitting position, outer extremities still feeling strange though Jack attributed it to the fact that his body was still metabolising whatever virus had been pumped into the room. Still numb, Jack turned and slid behind Gwen, gathering the woman into his arms. It was only then that curiosity got the better of him and Jack looked at the body in front of her.
Had it been possible to feel, Jack knew his heart would have broken again, but he was too numb to do anything other than stare. There before him Ianto lay, cold and lifeless: all the things he never would have labelled Ianto. The tears slipped down his face and Jack couldn't stop them from falling. There was no point in being strong for Gwen, there was no point to anything.
"There's nothing we can do."
The words lanced through him, somehow bespeaking the utter hopelessness of the situation. One arm wrapped around Gwen while Jack's free hand lowered to trace Ianto's features -- features he knew so well and could map with his eyes closed. A final touch to cement it in his mind: he had promised Ianto he never would forget him and that was a promise he would keep. All the way to the end of the universe, Ianto's memory would travel with him and Jack would keep him in that small chamber of his heart.
Ianto had changed Jack, and changed him for the better. While they may not have seen eye to eye on many issues, there was one thing Jack knew for certain: with Ianto he was a better man. He knew it was cliché to say, but it was the truth, Ianto was a positive influence -- acting as a conscience when Jack was ready to run off half-cocked, and able to talk sense into him. And when the world went to hell in a hand basket, Ianto was always there to pick up the pieces, sometimes with a word of comfort but always with a light touch that spoke volumes. Now, that voice of reason was gone, and he would never have the opportunity to hear those Welsh vowels again.
"No," Jack said, his voice echoing in his ears. "There's nothing."
At some point, Gwen unwound herself from Jack's arms and went to... do whatever it was she needed to do. Call Rhys, Jack assumed. Right now, Jack didn't care. Her absence gave Jack the opportunity to say his final goodbyes in private. There were some things Jack couldn't say in the company of others. Hell, he could barely say the words to Ianto as it was, quieting him in those final moments. Returning the words then felt like he was cheapening what they had; that he could only say 'I love you' when he was about to lose his lover. Their relationship had always been about what wasn't said: reading between the lines and letting actions speak louder than words. It was Jack's caresses and the way that he looked at Ianto that said 'you're the one I love'.
"It was good," Jack said softly, straightening Ianto's tie. "And I don't care what you think... whatever you thought, I won't. Forget you, that is. Funny how it's when you lose someone that you truly realise what they mean to you. I always knew, don't get me wrong." His fingers moved along Ianto's jaw and, if he closed his eyes, he could swear Ianto leaned into the gentle touch. God, he was losing it, wasn't he?
Three simple words and, even now, he couldn't return them. Somehow, saying 'I love you' to a body lessened the sentiment -- they were words said to the air because Jack knew that Ianto was gone by now. There was nothing left but the husk of a man, albeit a well dressed one. Ianto's tie may have been straightened already, but Jack found himself tugging on the silky fabric, moving the knot to sit perfectly between the points of his collar. The waistcoat was next, Jack smoothing out non-existent wrinkles. It seemed right somehow, Ianto was always fussing with his clothing, and there were times Jack wondered if it was a compulsive behaviour or because Ianto needed to do something with his hands.
As it was in the void, Jack wasn't sure how long he sat there, just staring. Behind him, he could hear footsteps: soldiers or other civilians walking amongst the dead, identifying them. Occasionally Jack would hear the gut-wrenching sob and he knew someone else was recognised, a father or sister no longer coming home to a waiting family. Oh how Jack could sympathise.
Death was a fact of his life, plain and simple. Jack knew he would always lose lovers and friends, destined to be the wandering captain unable to find peace. However, just for once, he'd thought he had found it. Just once Jack had thought he could have a few years of comfort amidst the rest of the world crumbling around his ears. Oh how wrong he had been.
"I'm sorry, Ianto," Jack finally said, brushing his fingers across Ianto's eyelids. He could feel the moisture gathering at the corners of his eyes but, as he had when Gwen was there, he did nothing to stop them. In the past, Ianto had been the one person Jack could let in, the only one he could drop the walls around himself and simply be. Now, in death, he knew Ianto deserved whatever emotion he could muster. "No matter what you may have thought, it's my fault. I never should have let you come in. Always at my side, there were times I forgot your mortality. Or, maybe, I didn't want to remember."
The tears began to fall in earnest, Jack sitting beside his lover and tracing his face with his fingers. So cold and so lifeless and Jack could feel a little more of his heart seal away with each passing moment. Jack had lost lovers in the past, but it had never felt like this; he never had the same gut wrenching feeling -- though perhaps that was the guilt speaking.
"I'm sorry," he repeated, contorting his body to press his lips to Ianto's in a final kiss. "I'm sorry I failed you. When it counted the most... I failed you."
Jack straightened, the last of the tears falling and staining Ianto's waistcoat. He simply wasn't ready to say goodbye.
"Jack."
Now he knew he had lost it. Hearing voices, even if they were whispered weakly, was the first sign that insanity was setting in. It was a case of too much wishful thinking: wanting to hear Ianto's voice, praying he'd wake, praying for any sign of life. He had to get out of here before he drove himself mad.
"Jack."
Weaker this time, barely audible. Good. His sanity was winning the battle.
No, he couldn't do this any more. He had to get out of here and do what he did best: save the world. There had already been too much death and he had already cocked things up too much. It was time to get on and do what he had to do, the way Ianto would have wanted him to. It didn't matter that Jack felt dead inside and he knew the look was reflected in his eyes. Frankly, Jack didn't know if he'd ever regain that spark. Perhaps he was being over dramatic, too wracked in his guilt to see the larger picture. All Jack knew was that he'd never felt like this before, never before had it felt like a part of him had died along with his lover.
As he had so many times before, Jack leaned forward and kissed Ianto's forehead. "I love you," he murmured against the skin, giving in at long last. Jack realised he needed to say it, even if Ianto could no longer hear him. It was like dealing with coma patients, it helped the ones left behind to talk even if they were beyond the realm of consciousness. "I love you," Jack repeated, "and I'm so sorry."
"I know."
Jack wasn't sure what jolted him out of his reverie first: receiving a response or the cold hand against his cheek. Jack opened his eyes, flinching, and scuttled back away from what had been Ianto's corpse, getting tangled in his body bag in the process. So this was what it felt like for the others when he gulped in the breath of life in front of them. But Ianto wasn't immortal. Ianto had died in his arms.
Ianto was currently staring up at Jack, eyes wide open.
Oh God.