[FIC] Holding to the Ground {Part Three} | Jack/Ianto (Hard R/NC-17)
TITLE: Holding to the Ground
AUTHOR: thescarletwoman
BETA(S): flyingtonowhere and halfspell
ARTIST: rotaryphones
CHARACTER(S): Jack Harkness, Ianto Jones, the Doctor, Gwen Cooper, Various OCs. PAIRING: Jack/Ianto
RATING: Hard R/Bordering on NC-17
WORD COUNT: ~22,000
WARNINGS: character death (though brief), AU, Spoilers through Children of Earth
DISCLAIMER: Torchwood and Doctor Who belong to the BBC. No copyright infringement intended. Reference quotes come from Episode 1x01 'Everything Changes' and some ideas come from the musical RENT.
AUTHOR'S NOTE(S): This has been quite a wild ride -- and one I wasn't sure I'd see through to the end. But thank you to my wonderful friends who pushed me to see this through until the very end. And a special thank you to Cap -- who helped me find the voice of the Doctor when I needed it the most. Thank you to my wonderful betas, any remaining mistakes are mine.
SUMMARY: Jack has never dealt with grief well and this is no exception. Running away from all of his responsibilities, he leaves Gwen alone to try to rebuild the crumbling Torchwood. Jack travells the world until something pulls him back to Cardiff -- to discover something he never thought possible. The only problem is he needs the Doctor's help, and who knows when he'll return again?
LINK TO FIC: Part One | Part Two | Part Three
Following the revelation that Ianto was still alive: Jack's ammunition budget was nowhere as large as it once was. Still, nightly, he stood outside in the Plass, staring up at the night sky as if he could entice the Doctor back down to Earth. On one hand, he needed the Doctor's assistance -- on the other, he was still pissed the man hadn't shown up and through his inaction, consequently put them into this predicament.
Really, the Doctor was within a rock and a hard place where Jack Harkness was concerned. There was no way he could win. Jack wasn't sure he wanted an apology either -- all he wanted was the Doctor to fix things.
Apologies could come later.
When he heard the TARDIS engines, Jack was more inclined to believe this was nothing more than a figment of a very over-active imagination. How long had he been staring at the sky night after night, waiting for the Doctor to show his face once more? It was only logical that Jack would be subject to flights of fancy after a while.
"Jack."
The voice was low, but Jack would know it anywhere. Fantastic, he was entering new levels of psychosis. Either Jack's delusions were rapidly reaching a whole new level or the Doctor had decided to show his face around here. Slowly, Jack turned and saw a rather dapper looking Doctor standing there, complete with top hat and tuxedo. Where the hell did he think he was going looking like that?
The rage that had been bottled up inside Jack for so long burst like a dam and Jack did nothing to stop it. Not even the knowledge that he needed the Doctor's assistance could contain Jack's anger. In this, irrationality won out. At least he was enough in his right mind to keep his revolver holstered, even if the thought had crossed his mind to send the Doctor through a couple of regenerations.
Fantasies were one thing but deep down Jack knew he wasn't a murderer. That, however, didn't stop him from launching himself at the other man, his right hand balling into a fist.
A feral growl burst from his lips as he reared back, fist connecting squarely with the Doctor's jaw. Off went the top hat and Jack didn't care if the Doctor fell with it. At last, standing before him was the man he loved so deeply and yet had abandoned him when it really mattered. When things were out of hand, Jack knew when to step back and let someone else take over and fix his mistakes. Ego aside, Jack knew he wasn't perfect and when he needed help. Looks? Well, those were perfect. Actions and the ability to solve everything -- not by a long shot.
"Where the fuck were you?" Jack spat, lashing out with yet another punch, this time to the chest. "Let me guess, you had a date that was just too fucking important to miss? Sorry that the earth getting in peril was standing in the way of the sex life I didn't even think you had. Then again, I never realised it was proper etiquette to take your right hand out for dinner every now and again. Just make sure your left doesn't get jealous."
Jack stood, arms crossed as the hole in the side of his head continued to heal. "So tell me, Doctor," the name came out like a vile curse, "what was so fucking important that you stayed away from us when we needed you the most?"
The rest of the question, When I needed you...? went unasked, but the words were there in Jack's eyes.
There hadn't been time for the Doctor to prepare for the punch or the onslaught of obscenities thrown in his direction. Jack knew it was a blow far below the belt, but he was past the point of caring. He was going to ride out his anger until he couldn't feel anymore... then worry about fixing his relationship with the man and solicit his help. Maybe Jack should have waited until after Ianto was alive to lash out. Oh well... hindsight was twenty-twenty as they said.
The Doctor's top had had long since blown away, skittering across the flagstones at the first punch and rolled along its brim until it fell into the sea. Oops. Jack stood, arms crossed in front of his chest while he waited for the Doctor to right himself. There was a smirk of self-satisfaction watching the Time Lord spit blood out onto the pavement, marring his pristine white gloves with burnt orange blood. Served him right indeed for turning his back on the Earth.
There was a part of Jack that winced seeing the Doctor's blood on the pavement. However, that bit was small and insignificant in comparison to the larger part that wanted to cause the Doctor as much pain as Jack had been through over the past few months. Jack wanted nothing more than to pummel the Doctor's face into an unrecognisable pulp.
The blood didn't phase Jack., nor did the way the Doctor spat it onto the ground. Jack was only sorry he didn't cause more damage. He'd have kneed him in the groin, but it wasn't like that bit of equipment was getting any use right now, was it?
Jack was in the middle of planning the next area to attack (he was thinking a heel to the knee would do quite nicely) when the Doctor exploded. Well, Jack wasn't sure the other man even had a temper to lose. Yes, he knew the stories -- the Oncoming Storm -- but this was the first time Jack had seen it in such close proximity.
"That is enough!" The Doctor snapped, shouting at Jack. "I didn't come because I couldn't, all right? You want to know, Jack? I had to be the one to destroy Gallifrey, knowing that my son was still there. And a hundred other children. I couldn't watch the human race hand over their children so easily, alright? Is that good enough for you?"
He supposed he shouldn't be surprised that the Doctor chose to ignore the commentary on sexuality, even though the comment had been rather inspired.
Jack was finding it hard to be afraid of the Doctor even as he lost his temper. When a body couldn't die, it was hard to be afraid of the Destroyer of Worlds. The Doctor could do whatever he liked to Jack, Jack would keep coming back. If a bomb in his abdomen couldn't do anything to him, what could the Doctor do?
Not a goddamn thing, that's what.
"Yes, you could have," Jack shot back, pointing at the TARDIS. "You set your coordinates, hit the thing with a hammer a few times and could have come here to help us!"
"No. I am not just a tool that turns up and sorts every damned problem out for humanity, Jack. I will not be treated like that."
Apparently, the Doctor didn't get it.
"Guess what, we didn't hand over the children. Aren't you proud?" He crossed his arms in front of his chest, eyes narrowing. "Managed to get through the whole thing all by ourselves." The sarcasm dripping from his voice was so thick one could almost see it hanging in the air. "Well, I should say almost. There were a few casualties along the way, but let me guess -- so long as we came through it and the children were safe, who cares about the cannon fodder that had to be lost along the way, right?"
The snarl was back in Jack's voice as he looked at the man he had so much respect for -- and still did even though he wanted to send the man through a regeneration. He ignored the Doctor's soft "No..." glossed over the lack of fury in the Doctor's voice.
"Yeah, we only lost a few people in the end. One child, and the staff at the Thames House. Not to mention one of our team members, but I'm sure in your view one less Torchwood member is a good thing."
Yes, Doctor. Ask me who had to be sacrificed along the way. I dare you.
"Jack, pack it in! I already told you -- your Torchwood is something to be proud of, so just shut up!" Still, Jack could watch the pieces falling into place in the Doctor's mind, trying to put names to the faces he'd seen only once before. "But... no. Not Gwen. Or Ianto? They're good people..." The Doctor swallowed hard but his face was a mask and Jack couldn't read anything into it.
Jack wasn't about to say anything either. He was going to wait for the Doctor to speak. He had all the time in the world.
"I'm sorry, Jack," The Doctor finally settled on, looking as if the words were difficult for him to say. "I'm so sorry."
Even with the apology, the Doctor didn't have much of a chance right now where Jack and his anger were concerned. Jack was out for blood (which he'd already gotten) and there was very little that was going to assuage him further -- that apology he thought he wanted didn't help. He needed someone to lash out at, as he very well couldn't rant and scream at Gwen; not only wouldn't it do any good, but Jack was afraid it would result in Jack admitting a few things to the woman that he didn't want her knowing. It was none of her business to know how much Ianto had meant to him. He did have an image to protect after all.
Yet, Jack had a feeling such admissions were going to slip any moment -- his anger was causing him to speak before he could think, words spewing forth from his mouth before he could stop them.
"I never said you were a tool that needed to come and sort out every little problem. To be quite honest, Torchwood was doing just fine when it comes to the mundane and even some of the extraordinary problems in Cardiff and elsewhere. However..." It was the 'however' that was the problem. "Bloody hell, Doctor, couldn't you see that we fucking needed help? If things looked so bad, why did you turn your back on us? I'm sure if Martha had rung you on the mobile you'd have been here in two seconds flat. Maybe three."
Speaking of, the reason Martha hadn't rung the Doctor was another bone of contention that he'd bring up whenever he saw her again.
"I'm not your saviour, Jack. I can't solve everything."
Jack shook his head, brushing the Doctor's words aside. He was on a roll and was going to ignore anything the Doctor tried to say until he managed to say his piece. "Yes," Jack said, making eye contact with the Doctor. He was going for broke when it came to the dramatics, the Doctor wasn't the only one who possessed such a flair. His earlier apology had been enough of a question of 'who' for Jack. "A child. My own flesh and blood even. Hard to take someone else's son for such a heinous reason, so best to destroy my grandson right?"
How was that for a revelation?
Jack let the knowledge of the Thames House deaths sink in, watching the Doctor for a good, long time. The expressions that flashed across the Doctor's face were victory enough and hopefully the Doctor was beginning to realise what had happened because he hadn't come. Jack was feeling the fight begin to seep out of him even as he struggled to hold onto it. He needed his anger, otherwise he knew he was going to break down in front of his friend -- in spite of the words he had used or the punches that had been thrown -- he still considered the Doctor to be a friend.
"Torchwood?" Jack snorted softly. "It was something for me to be proud of," Jack retorted, putting the emphasis on the word was. And then he lost Ianto -- then nothing mattered any longer. "There are times I regret you taking me with you," Jack said softly. "That I should have allowed myself to be blown to bits on that warship. I told you once I thought I was better off as a coward."
There was only one piece of the puzzle Jack had withheld; one last thing the Doctor needed to know.
"I lost my partner." Jack swallowed -- letting the bombshell drop where it would. Perhaps it was cruel to reveal not only Ianto's death in this manner but his relationship (Yes, Doctor, relationship) to the other man. Jack wasn't feeling generous. "Ianto."
At last the Doctor raised his head and made eye contact with Jack. "Oh... Oh, Jack."
The Doctor closed his eyes and Jack let him have the moment to digest everything. He didn't know what he wanted the Doctor to say, all he wanted was for the Doctor to realise what had happened due to his inaction. Given the way the Doctor's mouth twisted and the way his throat worked to swallow, Jack realised he had achieved his goal.
"I really am sorry, Jack. I wish I could take it back, but I can't." Jack had expected the Doctor to leave it there; never did he expect the Doctor would, in turn, return the favour with secrets of his own. "I was so angry with you. Humanity, I mean. So ashamed. So I ran. Ended up in the fifty-first century." Jack stiffened at the mention of his birth century, half wanting to know what the state of his home was but he wasn't sure he could deal with any more disappointment. Instead, he kept his mouth shut and let the Doctor continue. "I never wanted to see another human again. It's... it's been over a century for me."
Over a century? Jack's eyebrows lifted, realising the Doctor had been away for such a long time. Then again, if Jack had the means to leave, he would have stayed away for just as long... if not longer.
"I... I let you down, and I wish I hadn't. But I just couldn't come here. I lost my family too, Jack. You forget that I'm not some kind of mysterious entity. I had a wife. I had a son," The life had left the Doctor's voice and Jack almost had chills hearing it. "Cousins. I sacrificed them. And trust me, it'll never get any easier."
Deep down, Jack knew he wasn't being fair but he had a long time to build up his anger toward the other man. Not to mention a lot of time to brood and stand atop buildings in Cardiff, cursing the man from here to the Boeshane Peninsula and back again. Nothing could ease the pain he felt and nothing could lessen the heaviness in his chest. Jack needed someone to rage at and, really, only the Doctor would do. The Doctor was the one person who could have helped and he hadn't even shown his face.
"I'm aware of all that," Jack said, even though the extent of the destruction the Doctor had waged on his home was a bit of a shock. Had the circumstances been different, Jack may have stopped and realised what the Doctor was confessing to him. Jack, however, was beyond listening to anyone and wanted only to throw verbal punches. "And, for the record, I do a damn good job on my own for the most part!" Because he did. Because Earth was in a better situation after he had taken over Torchwood and was around to keep the Rift in check. "But for the love of Christ, Doctor. You can't bloody see when we needed help!? Or do you keep your head stuck so far up your TARDIS that you're the only one who exists!?"
Well, perhaps Jack wasn't done ranting and raging. At least he wasn't throwing punches any longer. He, however, could bite with words and was doing a fairly good job of that at the present.
There was a self-satisfied smirk that settled on his face when he saw the Doctor sway. Yes, Doctor, things had been horrible and Jack wasn't lying when he said he had needed help. There was a part of Jack that wondered if, had the Doctor shown up, had things played out the same way? Another head -- though he hadn't listened to Ianto about going off half-cocked into the Thames House -- giving ideas and working together. Maybe Steven wouldn't have had to die and maybe he'd be curling up in bed with Ianto.
Or maybe it would have been worse.
"I'm so glad that your anger was taken out in the form of my grandson and my --" Jack shook his head. No, saying it once was enough. The Doctor should have realised just what Ianto meant to Jack for him to call him 'partner'. Not lover, but partner. "You wound up there? Say hi to my parents? Or maybe Gray?" The words felt bitter on his tongue and Jack wasn't holding anything back once he got going. Later he would realise what the Doctor had said, later it would sink in that the Doctor had sacrificed his own race and what Jack had done was only a tenth the magnitude of things the Doctor had to do to his home.
Then again, if Jack had those two years of his memory back, he would have known that he had done the same thing -- through the assistance of the Time Agency he had single handedly destroyed the Boeshane Peninsula. But that was neither here nor there, sealed away in those memories the Agency had stolen from him.
"I'm warning you, Jack. You have to stop it." There was a tone to the Doctor's voice that said he was tired of being verbally abused.
Jack didn't have to stop it, nor did he want to. He'd given into the rage that he had kept bottled up for so long that one the flood gates had been opened and they refused to be silenced. Jack knew he was one bad bottle of tequila away from completely losing his mind but right now, he didn't give a damn. He wanted to wallow in self-pity and anger and screw whoever came in his way -- even a man he loved as much as the Doctor.
"You don't think I've dealt with death before?" The Doctor continued. "And you think that just because I appear, everything's easy and fine? This is my eleventh incarnation! I've died ten times saving this damned planet, and when I don't appear once, I'm the scourge of the universe?"
"Oooooh. You've died ten times," Jack scoffed. "I get that I'm an abomination in your eyes. But talk to me after you've lived through about two thousand deaths if you will. Sorry to say it doesn't get easier and it gets worse." Jack looked at the Doctor evenly. "The Earth has been in peril plenty of times and we've managed to muddle through just fine on our own. It's when we're in trouble and know we can't get by that is when everything went to hell in a hand cart."
Enough. Jack was tired of talking. He lifted his hand, pointing directly in the Doctor's face. "You? You're comin' with me. And you are going to fix this. At least, what there is to be fixed."
The bruise was rapidly fading from the Doctor's jaw and Jack was struck by the similarities between them both. Two men, destined to watch their lives fall apart in front of their eyes time and time again -- and they were powerless to stop it. Even as Jack made his demand, he knew he had no right to ask what he had. Coupled with the fire in the Doctor's eyes, Jack knew he had finally crossed the line. Up until now, the Doctor had understood Jack's anger -- now, Jack had stepped over that unspoken barrier and he was going to face the Doctor's wrath.
"No. No. I'm not your damned lapdog, Captain. You're a good man, but you're going too far. And I will not have it."
The Doctor caught Jack's gaze and stepped forward, fisting his hands in the lapels of Jack's greatcoat. For such a slight man, Jack was struck by how strong the Time Lord truly was. Jack, for his part, knew better than to struggle and instead stood there, listening to everything the Doctor had to say. It was time someone knocked some sense into him.
"When this damned planet decided to happily hand their children to an alien race, I left. And now apparently everything bad that humanity does, it's my fault." The Doctor ran his tongue in front of his teeth as if trying to get rid of the last traces of blood. Jack could see that the Doctor had finally snapped, had finally been pushed far enough by one Jack Harkness. "So says the man that would have wiped out London if it wasn't for me. Look at you. Just look at you." The Doctor's voice grew harsher as he spoke. "Ianto is dead. He's not going to come back. Just like me, you're going to watch everyone you love die. You're not the first one to lose someone, and you won't be the last either. If you can't handle that after the people you've killed, then maybe I should have left you to die on that warship."
"That wasn't my decision!" Jack exploded. "That was the government that decided to do this. NOT ME! So the majority of humanity are cruel and inhumane people. So that, logically, means to turn your back when there are those of us fighting? Yes, I know I sent those children to them in the 40s. I'm aware of that. It's my cross to bear even if I'll never be able to atone for that sin." He drew his lips into a thin line, looking evenly at the Doctor.
"Would you like to know how Ianto died? He died following my lead, going into the Thames House to confront the 456 directly. It was stupid and brash and in the end I fucking killed him. But at least I tried to do something. And in the end, yes, we got them away, I lost my grandson and my daughter will not even look at me."
"You lost your grandson. I lost everyone. Family. Friends. Before then, my wife and son turned their back on me because I needed to travel." The Doctor's voice became a growl as he angrily let go of Jack, pushing him backwards as he released his lapels. Jack stumbled backwards, the Doctor's words serving as the wakeup call he so desperately needed.
"Over the years, even before I was changed, I couldn't possibly understand since there's no way I could understand everything oh wise one." Jack swallowed hard, squaring off against the Doctor. "I've lost everything time and time again, Doctor. I lost my father, I lost my brother due to being a stupid child and he in turn took members of my team from me. You're not the only one who has loved and lost over the years so don't you dare try to make out like my pain is any less than yours!"
Later, when Jack realised some of the things he had said to the Doctor, he would regret the things he shouted at the other man. Suddenly, as quickly as it had come, the fight left Jack. He swallowed hard, a bit of his sanity beginning to seep back into his head. At long last, grief began to seep its way through the anger, cracking Jack's hard exteriour and letting the bruised and broken man beneath shine through. At last, Jack was letting the Doctor see the man he tried to keep hidden and usually did so successfully.
"His heart is still beating," Jack said, voice cracking. "And I have no idea how to save him," Jack whispered, his words carried on the wind, but hopefully reaching the Doctor.
"He's... alive?" The Doctor's voice lowered to match Jack's. The Doctor turned, stepping back toward Jack and placing a hand on his shoulder. Wordlessly, the Doctor pulled Jack into an embrace, letting his actions speak volumes by way of an apology. Neither man was one for the 'I'm sorries', but the hug went a long way in regards to mending broken bridges. No matter how they may quarrel, the bonds of friendship went deeper than words alone.
In the end, the Doctor needed Jack -- and Jack needed his Doctor.
"Well, then," the Doctor said, stepping back from Jack. "What even happened to him?"
How quickly the conversation turned from angrily shouting at one another to working together to solve a problem. Jack should have been disturbed by the speed emotions changed between them, but instead he was comforted. Now there was a common goal to work toward. He had expelled his anger, gotten it out of his system and now was ready to move on. Together, he and the Doctor would find the solution and bring Ianto back.
Jack had to keep positive otherwise he truly would lose his mind.
"There is nothing like the 456. They look at kids as if they're some sort of a drug -- cocaine for aliens. The ultimate high they called it. They released some sort of virus into the Thames House, killing everyone. Present company excluded."
"The ultimate high?" The Doctor shook his head, disgusted. "Pre-pubescent children of many races produce a cocktail of hormones that can give a 'high'," the Doctor said, taking on a role of instructor. "Humans... well, you're a big mix of compounds! If I drained the fluid from your brains, added the excess amounts of serotonin, a mixture of chemicals from a growing pancreas? Well, I wouldn’t end up doing anything else. Ultimate natural high, as far as I'm aware. I mean, it's illegal. Very illegal. Contravenes the Shadow Proclamation, actually. I remember the R- an old friend that did things like that. Might have been her invention, actually--" Stopping mid-ramble, the Doctor drew in a heavy breath. "Hopefully it won't poison me. Not in small traces. I'd take a sample from you, Jack, but it'll probably have left your system by now --"
"It would. It was nearly six months ago," Jack interjected.
"Ianto will obviously have it still there, though..." the Doctor paused, scratching his chin thoughtfully. "If his heart rate is so slow, it might mean he's in a coma. Quick sample there, and I'll analyse it in the TARDIS. Or down there if I can. Would be faster down there." Nodding at his plan, the Doctor looked at his friend. "C'mon then. The sooner we do this, the better. How long ago was the 456?"
"As I said," Jack repeated, "nearly six months ago." Jack motioned for the Doctor to follow him. He drew in a breath, stopping and turning in the Doctor's direction. "I..." Unfortunately for the Doctor, the words 'I'm sorry' weren't in Jack's vocabulary. "I've lost people before, Doctor. It's never felt like this."
For the briefest of moments, the temptation existed to ask the Doctor to change the past. However, the request died on Jack's tongue. He knew the rules and he knew the doctor would never forgive him for asking. It didn't matter that Jack had spent so many waking moments pretending that he could go back in time and fix the damned mistake he made. The Doctor said nothing and Jack found himself chattering uncharacteristically to fill the silence.
"Yes," Jack muttered. "That's what they were doing, minus all the technobabble thrown in and in this case, technobabble is not good for the soul." Jack drew in a breath, rubbing his his knuckles with his thumb. "Anything that would have been in my bloodstream would have been processed... probably that same day. Maybe the following depending on how potent the virus actually was. We --" Jack broke off, quickly changing the pronoun, "they figured out a way to keep his condition from changing for the worse."
"You're right," The Doctor murmured under his breath. "Probably couldn't handle whatever it is that keeps you alive."
For once, Jack ignored the dig at his immortality. He knew how 'wrong' he was in the Doctor's eyes, but now wasn't the time to get into that. And, to be honest, if the Doctor could fix Ianto -- Jack wouldn't care if the Doctor never met his eyes again.
That may have been taking it a little too far. But if that was the bargain he had to make... it was the bargain he'd have to make.
Jack's babbling had managed to take them from the upper portions of the Hub and down into the main part where Ianto was being held. Reaching Ianto's chamber, Jack flung open slot 007 and wiped the condensation from the glass.
"Well... here he is," Jack said softly.
When Jack turned to look at the Doctor, he saw that familiar tightness in his jaw -- the expression Jack saw whenever the Doctor was deep in thought. Jack stood aside to let the Doctor move in and assess the situation.
"You have to remember that I can't promise anything, Jack," the Doctor said, frowning. "Both of you."
Jack turned then, his brow furrowing at the 'both of you' comment. His eyebrows knit further together when he saw Gwen standing at the door, hanging back as if she wasn't sure if she should enter. After a moment's hesitation, Jack nodded and Gwen slipped into the room. Seemed like curiosity was going to get the better of her, then.
"I know you can't," Jack replied softly, looking down at Ianto. "But at this point... something is better than nothing. We've done everything we know how to do... and this is what we are left with. If you do nothing, he'll die. I-- there isn't much left to lose."
Ignoring the Torchwood team, the Doctor's attention was focused on Ianto. Clearing his throat, the Doctor pulled the panel aside, releasing the sound of the machines keeping tabs on Ianto's heartbeat. Jack bounced nervously on the balls of his feet, watching the Doctor place two fingers against Ianto's neck.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," The Doctor said, though Jack ignored the repeated apologies. "I'll... I'll do my best. But... you won't want to see this. It's the best way that I can analyse traces of bacteria without taking a blood sample. We don't have enough time."
Before Jack could ask what the Doctor was planning, the Doctor had leaned forward and pressed his lips to Ianto's. Jack was torn between finding that kiss arousing and pissing him off. He entered the realm of pure anger as he watched the Doctor press Ianto's mouth open and sweep his tongue inside. Oh no -- there was one person who kissed Ianto Jones and it was him.
Jack suffered from a disease known all the world over as 'hypocrisy'. It was okay for him to snog others, but god forbid he see Ianto locking lips with anyone else. The jealousy damn near killed him.
"Something's... off," the Doctor muttered as he straightened up. "I need to... oh, I need to think..."
"Some of that 'odd' might be me," Jack confessed, looking at Ianto. Yes, he'd given the man more than one kiss since he'd been put into stasis. "And I know you don't think of me as natural. If you know what it is, just tell us. We can find what we need in the vaults if we have it. Something... anything. Just say something, Doctor."
Jack watched as the Doctor's eyes darted back and forth, as if he were reading an entire library of information. His fingers waggled, and Jack had to wonder if he was mentally cross referencing everything he had ever learned.
For once in his life, Jack was completely at a loss and so he stood beside Ianto with his hands shoved into his pockets. It wasn't often the protective shell got pulled back and Jack stared down at Ianto, ice crystals lining his lips and eyelashes. There was no rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, he just lay there so cold and still.
"No, I... I know that there's a touch of impossibility there, I can taste that." The Doctor pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth while he thought. "There's something --- Oh yes!"
Rubbing his temples, the Doctor started mouthing half-words as he paced about, mumbling things that didn't make any sort of sense to Jack. While Jack wanted to press, wanted to know what the Doctor had figured out, he wasn't about to interrupt the Time Lord's thought processes. Once more, the Doctor moved close to Ianto, though this time he slipped a finger into his mouth rather than kiss him.
Vast improvement as far as Jack was concerned.
Bringing the finger back under his nose, the Time Lord inhaled once more. Jack drew his lips into a thin line, watching him with bated breath while every fibre of his being begged to question the Doctor. Frowning, the Doctor sucked the finger into his mouth and promptly began to cough.
"Jack, coffee -- home made, plastic and metal filter, no, double filtered -- and... oh, oh, oh! Excess amounts of dopamine!"
All Jack did was nod, eyes darting back and forth between his frosty lover and the manically bouncing Doctor. The wait was killing him -- absolutely killing him... not to mention the longer Ianto was out of the protective container Jack didn't know how long Ianto could survive in this state.
The Doctor wiped his finger on his trousers then sniffed again. The grin that spread across his face told Jack everything: the Doctor knew what it was. Only question now was how to fix it.
"They didn't release poisons, they released hormones! It all makes perfect sense! They were able to examine the bodies of the children and the 456 could find out whatever they wanted about you lot -- at least biologically." The Doctor coughed again, dabbing at the tears that sprung to his eyes. "Sorry," he said around another cough. "You've been pumping him full of painkillers, weren't you?"
Jack nodded. "Yes, between the painkillers and the types of anaesthesia we have to use to keep him in stasis. Sorry, should have warned you but I also wasn't expecting you to snog the office boy either."
The Doctor doubled over, wincing, then straightened up again. "It's the hypothalamus. Where they get the high from. They attacked it. And Ianto's... Ianto's wasn't working how it should anyway." The Doctor launched into another coughing fit, looking at Jack helplessly. "I need some distilled water. And Smarties. need the E-numbers."
"What do you mean there's something wrong with his hypothalamus?" Jack asked, frowning. "There was nothing wrong with him before we went into the Thames House." Jack turned, finally acknowledging Gwen. "Gwen!"
"On it!" Gwen darted away, her steps thudding on the metal walkways, leaving Jack alone with the Doctor.
"Yes! Well, no. not exactly. The coffee had been contaminated with an alien substance. Filtering it over and over again just gave it a greater potency. See? That’s what I thought was up!" A smug expression settled on the Doctor's face and Jack had to remind himself not to punch him again. "The hypothalamus. It's a huge nerve centre -- basically, anyway. Controls a lot of things. Body temperature, metabolism, and things your scientists haven't even worked out yet." Another cough, this one harsher. "And the coffee contamination was messing with his hypothalamus. When the 456 hormones attacked bits of his system, the coffee 'bug' had already gotten his body used to that kind of level!"
Once Ianto was back, Jack would concentrate on the rest of what the Doctor was saying. Right now, though, Jack wanted Ianto looking at him and breathing. Perhaps kissing him, but he could let that part wait for a little bit. Mostly, all Jack wanted was for those crystal blue eyes to look up at him with recognition, not staring blankly at the ceiling.
The Doctor stepped away from Jack, wiping the tears away from his eyes. His face was red and puffy, almost like he had walked through a field of poppies with a deadly allergy to pollen.
"Now, I don't want to cause a bit of a panic, but I really need the water and Smarties."
"Here!" Gwen arrived back on the scene within minutes as if she had heard the Doctor's plea. She reached the railing, tossing first the jug of distilled water at Jack followed by the Smarties.
"Will this do?" Jack asked, holding the items up in each hand.
Without a word, the Doctor snatched each item from Jack's hand, ripping open the package and stuffing his face with the little sweets. Jack noticed that he barely chewed them, forcing the candy down his throat with giant glugs of water.
"OOooooaaaaugh." The Doctor shook himself, rolling his shoulders. "Right. Much better. I think I can work that out of my system on my own now." He stumbled a bit, caught himself, then ran a hand through his hair. "Mostly can work it out.
There was a part of Jack that itched to know what made the Doctor tick, particularly watching his body metabolise whatever it was that was in Ianto's body. Jack knew how his own body worked, that whatever had happened to him on Satellite 5 had made him impervious to diseases and poisons. It was always a bitch, but eventually Jack's body would work through the poison and leave him as good as new. The Doctor, though, could get rid of a poison by way of Smarties and distilled water. Yes, Jack was more than a bit intrigued!
Later. All of this would come later.
"Okay," The Doctor continued after a sneeze. "We need to restart his entire metabolism. A few chemicals in the right places and he'll be good as new. Hopefully, anyway."
The Doctor's voice dropped, muttering the last bit under his breath. Jack, however, heard everything -- he simply chose to ignore it. Jack needed something to cling to and right now, it was the possibility that the Doctor was going to fix this and set Ianto right. They could deal with the fall-out of the 456 later -- but getting his team back to full strength was top priority. Though, Jack wouldn't lie, he had every intention of taking a few days away from Cardiff just the two of them... provided this worked.
"Ianto just needs his body to speed up a bit! Look at his heart rate, far too slow. He needs a kickstart! Something to get him raring to go!" The Doctor's mouth ran and Jack briefly wondered what Gwen was making of this. It was one thing to watch him over a computer monitor. It was another to see him in the flesh. "Hmm. All right, then! We need glucocorticoid. Hydrocortisone should do. That's the basic one for humans, isn't it?" He pressed on without waiting for a response. "Vasopressin, too. Only in small doses. And a good old electric shock. I know it's basic, but the 456 survive by reacting to human hormones. As soon as the remnants in Ianto are fed and shocked at the same time, well, 'goodbye Vienna'. Ooh. I haven’t said that in ages."
Finding himself nodding, Jack made a mental note of everything the Doctor asked for. He lifted an eyebrow the moment he mentioned using an electric shock, though he knew that would be needed. Right. He could do this.
"Right. Back in a flash."
This time, Jack didn't ask for Gwen's assistance. It would take longer to explain all the chemicals and compounds the Doctor asked for and with each passing moment, Ianto's body grew warmer. The ice crystals had long since melted away and there was a hint of colour beginning to creep into Ianto's features. Time was no longer on their side.
He dug through the various containers they kept, muttering the names of the chemicals like a mantra. Each one was found in turn and Jack soon found himself back in the cold storage area with phials clinking in his hands. Without a word, Jack handed them over to the Doctor. He knew he looked a fright, and knew that his concern over Ianto was opening both Gwen's and the Doctor's eyes. He knew there would be a lot of ribbing later -- mutterings that Jack had finally grown soft in his old age.
Well, in the emotional sense. Certainly not the sexual sense.
"Right! Excellent!" The Doctor took the phials from Jack, shoving his free hand into his coat pocket. After rooting around for a moment, he retrieved a couple of needles packaged in plastic.
"What do you have in there?" Jack muttered under his breath. "The black hole of calcutta? If the Linburg baby is in there, I want to know."
Using each needle and phial in turn, the Doctor carefully measured out each, punctured the skin of his arm, and set about fixing the chemical imbalance in Ianto. No one present mentioned the fact that the Doctor wasn't a trained medical professional. A Doctor in title only.
Blotting away the small bead of blood that formed, the Doctor stepped away and looked at Jack. 'Go on,' his smile seemed to say.
For as long as Jack had searched for a cure -- the moment of truth had arrived and he wasn't sure if he could do this. His nerves had been rubbed raw for the past few months. Jack had sworn he would never allow himself to fall this far when it came to loving another person, but in spite of his protestations Ianto had slipped into his life and his heart. Jack seemed rooted to the floor and it was only when Gwen approached Jack, pushing the paddles into his hands, that Jack was brought back to the present.
There was a saddness in Gwen's eyes, an expression Jack couldn't completely understand as she stepped away from Jack.
"Go on," she said softly, her voice cracking. "Save him."
"Right, then," Jack said, looking down at the paddles. The fairy-tales said the type of shock needed should have been a kiss or something equally, dopily romantic. So it was the choice between using the defibrilator or the romantic kiss.
Jack didn't trust the stories and instead went for the clinical science. Reconnecting the heart monitor, Jack watched the slow beat of his heart for a moment. With a deep breath, he charged the paddles on the lowest setting, placed them against Ianto's chest and sent the volts of electricity through his body. The monitors instantly kicked to life.
Tossing the paddles aside without a thought, Jack reached for Ianto's cold hand and looked down at his lover, waiting for him to open his eyes.
"Come on, damn you, open your eyes. Look at me." Jack closed his eyes, head falling forward to rest on Ianto's abdomen, the last words murmured into his skin. "Please."
Nothing.
Nothing but the steady blip of the heart monitor. If they could trust science, he was alive. There was, unfortunately, a large difference between alive and awake and shaggable.
So far, Ianto was the former.
Jack slid his hand into Ianto's, ignoring the Doctor and Gwen as they stood by. His eyes were fixed on Ianto's waiting for the lashes to flutter and his eyes to open. This was their only chance and he knew it. Ianto's body was too warm to 'survive' a second lowering of body temperatures. If this didn't work, Ianto Jones was going to die.
It had to work, didn't it?
Each second that ticked away felt like a mini-eternity, stretching out before him in a long line. As the seconds passed, Jack began to fall deeper into despair; there was no way he could survive this long.
"Jack... I'm sorry..."
Jack shook his head, listening as the beats on the monitor grew further and further apart. He didn't want to hear the Doctor's apologies, nor was he ready to admit that Ianto was dying. A few more minutes and the monitor would cease to beat, merely intone a steady tone -- a flat line.
"You did your best."
His voice was hollow, the expression on his face empty as he stared at Ianto's lifeless form. Yes, they had done all they could, hadn't they? A sample of blood from Ianto and the TARDIS had made her best guess as to what was slowly killing Ianto. Apparently that guess had been wrong and Jack had no one to blame but himself. It had been sheer folly to think that Ianto could be brought back from a point just before death.
The lies we tell ourselves...
Someone placed a hand on his shoulder but Jack shrugged it off. He didn't want comfort, he simply wanted to be alone with his lover when the time finally ran out for Ianto Jones.
"Leave us," Jack softly commanded. "Please."
The sound of footsteps shuffling behind told Jack the two had left him alone with the dying Ianto. The first time had been hard enough on Jack, watching his life slip away while Jack's own life force diminished with him. Listening to Ianto pleading, the things he said just before the virus had extinguished his life. Thankfully, this time Ianto was unconscious already and death would carry him away in her arms like sleep.
And it afforded Jack the chance to say his final goodbye.
"I know I never had to say it," Jack spoke, brushing the hair back from Ianto's face. "Hell, even when I did say it you always replied 'I know' -- and yet I still always believed you needed to hear it from me." Lifting himself up from the stool, Jack pressed his lips to Ianto's forehead. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't listen to you and I'm sorry I don't get more time with you." A kiss to his cheek this time. "And I do promise you, I'll never forget you no matter what happens. To the ends of the universe, I will always remember you."
Gently, Jack laid his fingertips over Ianto's lips and ignored the breath he felt against them. Wishful thinking on his part and nothing more. Emotion welled up, tightening his chest and forcing his throat closed. He couldn't speak so, in the end, all Jack could do was mouth the words 'I love you'. Jack removed his hand, bending down to brush his lips against Ianto's slightly warm ones just as the monitor ceased beeping and began to herald Ianto Jones's exit from the world.
It hurt more the second time around.
Jack reached over Ianto's body, shutting off the monitor, no longer wanting to hear the constant scream. If Ianto deserved anything, it was a peaceful exit. At least Jack could give him that, right? He wasn't sure how long he remained in the basement, his hand laced with Ianto's, watching his lover lie there so perfectly still. Jack committed every scar, every mark on his skin to memory, creating a perfect picture in his mind's eye that would last him for the rest of eternity. If there was ever a promise Jack made in his life that he was determined to keep, it was the promise to remember him. He knew as time went on it would get easier, that he would find another lover to fill the void and to curl up with late at night. However, Jack also knew there was a small area in the corner of his heart that would never be filled. Only a few lovers and partners had ever left such a space -- they were the individuals who had crawled under Jack's skin in spite of the barriers Jack had tried to keep in place.
Ianto Jones had found that place in Jack's heart of hearts and refused to budge.
After so many hours of searching, Jack was finally admitting defeat. In the end, he couldn't save Ianto -- though he at least got credit for trying. Short of a miracle (which was supposed to come in the form of the Doctor and his TARDIS), there was nothing that could bring Ianto back and Jack was going to have to come to terms with that. Somehow.
Rising from the stool, Jack withdrew his hand from Ianto's, brushing his thumb across Ianto's eyebrows. He stood silently for a moment, trying to come up with something profound and failed miserably.
Eyes, look your last! Arms, take your last embrace! and, lips, O you the doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss.
God, he was a fucking romantic, wasn't he? Only problem with the parallel was Ianto was really dead and Jack wouldn't be falling victim to any poison from a chemists. Still... Jack did follow the instruction, brushing his lips across Ianto's one final time.
"I love you." He finally managed to say the words rather than imply them. "And I'm sorry."
Once again, that damned lump formed in his throat once more and Jack didn't try to dislodge it. Now was his turn to grieve in silence. Maybe he'd travel with the Doctor for a time, promising Gwen that he would return in a few months and take up his post once more. She didn't have to know that he'd spend a few hundred years with the Doctor (if the Doctor would have him for that long) and return when he was ready. Shake off the dust of the Earth and find his soul again -- a soul that wasn't marred by the deaths he had caused over the years. Not just Ianto, but everyone. It was time to atone for his sins: every single one he had carried with him since he let go of Gray's hand as a child.
Enough. No more. Time to move on.
***
Nothing.
No pulse.
No breath.
No life.
No reason to go back.
No--
No reason not to go back.
Th-thump.
Breath.
Open your eyes.
Bright. Light.
***
Time had no meaning while Jack sat beside Ianto. Things ran through his mind: maybe the concotion of chemicals had been off, maybe the damage to the hypothalamus was too greath. Maybe, maybe, maybe -- an eternity of maybes marched before Jack like angry soldiers. Questions that would haunt him for the rest of his very long life.
At last, Jack couldn't take any more. He spun on his heel, putting space between Ianto and himself. The rest of the team could take care of the interment. He had said his good-byes. He had --
"Jack."
He froze, foot poised a few centimetres above the cement floor and nearly pitched forward after being off balance. Only because he was Jack Harkness, complete with cat-like reflexes, did he regain his equilibrium.
No. His imagination needed to stop fucking with him.
"Jack."
The voice was faint but it was still there. Jack crossed the distance in several long strides, skidding to a stop beside Ianto's makeshift bed. He was pale and he may have been shivering but he was alive. There were no words he could say and there was no expression in the human language that could accurately describe his feelings.
As always with the case of Jack Harkness, actions spoke louder than words.
He placed a hand on Ianto's cheek, lowered his head and did the one thing he could: he kissed him. Nothing demanding, merely needed that reassurance that Ianto was there. After a moment, Jack could feel Ianto respond, knew the way Ianto's fingers curled in his hair. Jack was reluctant to pull away, but did at last when air was necessary -- particularly given one of them had been deprived of oxygen for god knows how long.
"I knew you'd do it."
"I gave--"
Ianto pressed a finger against Jack's lips and shook his head. Jack merely nodded, pulled the stool up beside the bed and sat. There were things for another day -- parts of Ianto that were still broken that would need to be fixed. Those were thoughts for another day. For now, all those worries could wait. Jack slid his stool closer, gently brushing his fingers through Ianto's hair.
Neither man needed to speak.
Sometimes, no words were the best words of all.
AUTHOR: thescarletwoman
BETA(S): flyingtonowhere and halfspell
ARTIST: rotaryphones
CHARACTER(S): Jack Harkness, Ianto Jones, the Doctor, Gwen Cooper, Various OCs. PAIRING: Jack/Ianto
RATING: Hard R/Bordering on NC-17
WORD COUNT: ~22,000
WARNINGS: character death (though brief), AU, Spoilers through Children of Earth
DISCLAIMER: Torchwood and Doctor Who belong to the BBC. No copyright infringement intended. Reference quotes come from Episode 1x01 'Everything Changes' and some ideas come from the musical RENT.
AUTHOR'S NOTE(S): This has been quite a wild ride -- and one I wasn't sure I'd see through to the end. But thank you to my wonderful friends who pushed me to see this through until the very end. And a special thank you to Cap -- who helped me find the voice of the Doctor when I needed it the most. Thank you to my wonderful betas, any remaining mistakes are mine.
SUMMARY: Jack has never dealt with grief well and this is no exception. Running away from all of his responsibilities, he leaves Gwen alone to try to rebuild the crumbling Torchwood. Jack travells the world until something pulls him back to Cardiff -- to discover something he never thought possible. The only problem is he needs the Doctor's help, and who knows when he'll return again?
LINK TO FIC: Part One | Part Two | Part Three
Following the revelation that Ianto was still alive: Jack's ammunition budget was nowhere as large as it once was. Still, nightly, he stood outside in the Plass, staring up at the night sky as if he could entice the Doctor back down to Earth. On one hand, he needed the Doctor's assistance -- on the other, he was still pissed the man hadn't shown up and through his inaction, consequently put them into this predicament.
Really, the Doctor was within a rock and a hard place where Jack Harkness was concerned. There was no way he could win. Jack wasn't sure he wanted an apology either -- all he wanted was the Doctor to fix things.
Apologies could come later.
When he heard the TARDIS engines, Jack was more inclined to believe this was nothing more than a figment of a very over-active imagination. How long had he been staring at the sky night after night, waiting for the Doctor to show his face once more? It was only logical that Jack would be subject to flights of fancy after a while.
"Jack."
The voice was low, but Jack would know it anywhere. Fantastic, he was entering new levels of psychosis. Either Jack's delusions were rapidly reaching a whole new level or the Doctor had decided to show his face around here. Slowly, Jack turned and saw a rather dapper looking Doctor standing there, complete with top hat and tuxedo. Where the hell did he think he was going looking like that?
The rage that had been bottled up inside Jack for so long burst like a dam and Jack did nothing to stop it. Not even the knowledge that he needed the Doctor's assistance could contain Jack's anger. In this, irrationality won out. At least he was enough in his right mind to keep his revolver holstered, even if the thought had crossed his mind to send the Doctor through a couple of regenerations.
Fantasies were one thing but deep down Jack knew he wasn't a murderer. That, however, didn't stop him from launching himself at the other man, his right hand balling into a fist.
A feral growl burst from his lips as he reared back, fist connecting squarely with the Doctor's jaw. Off went the top hat and Jack didn't care if the Doctor fell with it. At last, standing before him was the man he loved so deeply and yet had abandoned him when it really mattered. When things were out of hand, Jack knew when to step back and let someone else take over and fix his mistakes. Ego aside, Jack knew he wasn't perfect and when he needed help. Looks? Well, those were perfect. Actions and the ability to solve everything -- not by a long shot.
"Where the fuck were you?" Jack spat, lashing out with yet another punch, this time to the chest. "Let me guess, you had a date that was just too fucking important to miss? Sorry that the earth getting in peril was standing in the way of the sex life I didn't even think you had. Then again, I never realised it was proper etiquette to take your right hand out for dinner every now and again. Just make sure your left doesn't get jealous."
Jack stood, arms crossed as the hole in the side of his head continued to heal. "So tell me, Doctor," the name came out like a vile curse, "what was so fucking important that you stayed away from us when we needed you the most?"
The rest of the question, When I needed you...? went unasked, but the words were there in Jack's eyes.
There hadn't been time for the Doctor to prepare for the punch or the onslaught of obscenities thrown in his direction. Jack knew it was a blow far below the belt, but he was past the point of caring. He was going to ride out his anger until he couldn't feel anymore... then worry about fixing his relationship with the man and solicit his help. Maybe Jack should have waited until after Ianto was alive to lash out. Oh well... hindsight was twenty-twenty as they said.
The Doctor's top had had long since blown away, skittering across the flagstones at the first punch and rolled along its brim until it fell into the sea. Oops. Jack stood, arms crossed in front of his chest while he waited for the Doctor to right himself. There was a smirk of self-satisfaction watching the Time Lord spit blood out onto the pavement, marring his pristine white gloves with burnt orange blood. Served him right indeed for turning his back on the Earth.
There was a part of Jack that winced seeing the Doctor's blood on the pavement. However, that bit was small and insignificant in comparison to the larger part that wanted to cause the Doctor as much pain as Jack had been through over the past few months. Jack wanted nothing more than to pummel the Doctor's face into an unrecognisable pulp.
The blood didn't phase Jack., nor did the way the Doctor spat it onto the ground. Jack was only sorry he didn't cause more damage. He'd have kneed him in the groin, but it wasn't like that bit of equipment was getting any use right now, was it?
Jack was in the middle of planning the next area to attack (he was thinking a heel to the knee would do quite nicely) when the Doctor exploded. Well, Jack wasn't sure the other man even had a temper to lose. Yes, he knew the stories -- the Oncoming Storm -- but this was the first time Jack had seen it in such close proximity.
"That is enough!" The Doctor snapped, shouting at Jack. "I didn't come because I couldn't, all right? You want to know, Jack? I had to be the one to destroy Gallifrey, knowing that my son was still there. And a hundred other children. I couldn't watch the human race hand over their children so easily, alright? Is that good enough for you?"
He supposed he shouldn't be surprised that the Doctor chose to ignore the commentary on sexuality, even though the comment had been rather inspired.
Jack was finding it hard to be afraid of the Doctor even as he lost his temper. When a body couldn't die, it was hard to be afraid of the Destroyer of Worlds. The Doctor could do whatever he liked to Jack, Jack would keep coming back. If a bomb in his abdomen couldn't do anything to him, what could the Doctor do?
Not a goddamn thing, that's what.
"Yes, you could have," Jack shot back, pointing at the TARDIS. "You set your coordinates, hit the thing with a hammer a few times and could have come here to help us!"
"No. I am not just a tool that turns up and sorts every damned problem out for humanity, Jack. I will not be treated like that."
Apparently, the Doctor didn't get it.
"Guess what, we didn't hand over the children. Aren't you proud?" He crossed his arms in front of his chest, eyes narrowing. "Managed to get through the whole thing all by ourselves." The sarcasm dripping from his voice was so thick one could almost see it hanging in the air. "Well, I should say almost. There were a few casualties along the way, but let me guess -- so long as we came through it and the children were safe, who cares about the cannon fodder that had to be lost along the way, right?"
The snarl was back in Jack's voice as he looked at the man he had so much respect for -- and still did even though he wanted to send the man through a regeneration. He ignored the Doctor's soft "No..." glossed over the lack of fury in the Doctor's voice.
"Yeah, we only lost a few people in the end. One child, and the staff at the Thames House. Not to mention one of our team members, but I'm sure in your view one less Torchwood member is a good thing."
Yes, Doctor. Ask me who had to be sacrificed along the way. I dare you.
"Jack, pack it in! I already told you -- your Torchwood is something to be proud of, so just shut up!" Still, Jack could watch the pieces falling into place in the Doctor's mind, trying to put names to the faces he'd seen only once before. "But... no. Not Gwen. Or Ianto? They're good people..." The Doctor swallowed hard but his face was a mask and Jack couldn't read anything into it.
Jack wasn't about to say anything either. He was going to wait for the Doctor to speak. He had all the time in the world.
"I'm sorry, Jack," The Doctor finally settled on, looking as if the words were difficult for him to say. "I'm so sorry."
Even with the apology, the Doctor didn't have much of a chance right now where Jack and his anger were concerned. Jack was out for blood (which he'd already gotten) and there was very little that was going to assuage him further -- that apology he thought he wanted didn't help. He needed someone to lash out at, as he very well couldn't rant and scream at Gwen; not only wouldn't it do any good, but Jack was afraid it would result in Jack admitting a few things to the woman that he didn't want her knowing. It was none of her business to know how much Ianto had meant to him. He did have an image to protect after all.
Yet, Jack had a feeling such admissions were going to slip any moment -- his anger was causing him to speak before he could think, words spewing forth from his mouth before he could stop them.
"I never said you were a tool that needed to come and sort out every little problem. To be quite honest, Torchwood was doing just fine when it comes to the mundane and even some of the extraordinary problems in Cardiff and elsewhere. However..." It was the 'however' that was the problem. "Bloody hell, Doctor, couldn't you see that we fucking needed help? If things looked so bad, why did you turn your back on us? I'm sure if Martha had rung you on the mobile you'd have been here in two seconds flat. Maybe three."
Speaking of, the reason Martha hadn't rung the Doctor was another bone of contention that he'd bring up whenever he saw her again.
"I'm not your saviour, Jack. I can't solve everything."
Jack shook his head, brushing the Doctor's words aside. He was on a roll and was going to ignore anything the Doctor tried to say until he managed to say his piece. "Yes," Jack said, making eye contact with the Doctor. He was going for broke when it came to the dramatics, the Doctor wasn't the only one who possessed such a flair. His earlier apology had been enough of a question of 'who' for Jack. "A child. My own flesh and blood even. Hard to take someone else's son for such a heinous reason, so best to destroy my grandson right?"
How was that for a revelation?
Jack let the knowledge of the Thames House deaths sink in, watching the Doctor for a good, long time. The expressions that flashed across the Doctor's face were victory enough and hopefully the Doctor was beginning to realise what had happened because he hadn't come. Jack was feeling the fight begin to seep out of him even as he struggled to hold onto it. He needed his anger, otherwise he knew he was going to break down in front of his friend -- in spite of the words he had used or the punches that had been thrown -- he still considered the Doctor to be a friend.
"Torchwood?" Jack snorted softly. "It was something for me to be proud of," Jack retorted, putting the emphasis on the word was. And then he lost Ianto -- then nothing mattered any longer. "There are times I regret you taking me with you," Jack said softly. "That I should have allowed myself to be blown to bits on that warship. I told you once I thought I was better off as a coward."
There was only one piece of the puzzle Jack had withheld; one last thing the Doctor needed to know.
"I lost my partner." Jack swallowed -- letting the bombshell drop where it would. Perhaps it was cruel to reveal not only Ianto's death in this manner but his relationship (Yes, Doctor, relationship) to the other man. Jack wasn't feeling generous. "Ianto."
At last the Doctor raised his head and made eye contact with Jack. "Oh... Oh, Jack."
The Doctor closed his eyes and Jack let him have the moment to digest everything. He didn't know what he wanted the Doctor to say, all he wanted was for the Doctor to realise what had happened due to his inaction. Given the way the Doctor's mouth twisted and the way his throat worked to swallow, Jack realised he had achieved his goal.
"I really am sorry, Jack. I wish I could take it back, but I can't." Jack had expected the Doctor to leave it there; never did he expect the Doctor would, in turn, return the favour with secrets of his own. "I was so angry with you. Humanity, I mean. So ashamed. So I ran. Ended up in the fifty-first century." Jack stiffened at the mention of his birth century, half wanting to know what the state of his home was but he wasn't sure he could deal with any more disappointment. Instead, he kept his mouth shut and let the Doctor continue. "I never wanted to see another human again. It's... it's been over a century for me."
Over a century? Jack's eyebrows lifted, realising the Doctor had been away for such a long time. Then again, if Jack had the means to leave, he would have stayed away for just as long... if not longer.
"I... I let you down, and I wish I hadn't. But I just couldn't come here. I lost my family too, Jack. You forget that I'm not some kind of mysterious entity. I had a wife. I had a son," The life had left the Doctor's voice and Jack almost had chills hearing it. "Cousins. I sacrificed them. And trust me, it'll never get any easier."
Deep down, Jack knew he wasn't being fair but he had a long time to build up his anger toward the other man. Not to mention a lot of time to brood and stand atop buildings in Cardiff, cursing the man from here to the Boeshane Peninsula and back again. Nothing could ease the pain he felt and nothing could lessen the heaviness in his chest. Jack needed someone to rage at and, really, only the Doctor would do. The Doctor was the one person who could have helped and he hadn't even shown his face.
"I'm aware of all that," Jack said, even though the extent of the destruction the Doctor had waged on his home was a bit of a shock. Had the circumstances been different, Jack may have stopped and realised what the Doctor was confessing to him. Jack, however, was beyond listening to anyone and wanted only to throw verbal punches. "And, for the record, I do a damn good job on my own for the most part!" Because he did. Because Earth was in a better situation after he had taken over Torchwood and was around to keep the Rift in check. "But for the love of Christ, Doctor. You can't bloody see when we needed help!? Or do you keep your head stuck so far up your TARDIS that you're the only one who exists!?"
Well, perhaps Jack wasn't done ranting and raging. At least he wasn't throwing punches any longer. He, however, could bite with words and was doing a fairly good job of that at the present.
There was a self-satisfied smirk that settled on his face when he saw the Doctor sway. Yes, Doctor, things had been horrible and Jack wasn't lying when he said he had needed help. There was a part of Jack that wondered if, had the Doctor shown up, had things played out the same way? Another head -- though he hadn't listened to Ianto about going off half-cocked into the Thames House -- giving ideas and working together. Maybe Steven wouldn't have had to die and maybe he'd be curling up in bed with Ianto.
Or maybe it would have been worse.
"I'm so glad that your anger was taken out in the form of my grandson and my --" Jack shook his head. No, saying it once was enough. The Doctor should have realised just what Ianto meant to Jack for him to call him 'partner'. Not lover, but partner. "You wound up there? Say hi to my parents? Or maybe Gray?" The words felt bitter on his tongue and Jack wasn't holding anything back once he got going. Later he would realise what the Doctor had said, later it would sink in that the Doctor had sacrificed his own race and what Jack had done was only a tenth the magnitude of things the Doctor had to do to his home.
Then again, if Jack had those two years of his memory back, he would have known that he had done the same thing -- through the assistance of the Time Agency he had single handedly destroyed the Boeshane Peninsula. But that was neither here nor there, sealed away in those memories the Agency had stolen from him.
"I'm warning you, Jack. You have to stop it." There was a tone to the Doctor's voice that said he was tired of being verbally abused.
Jack didn't have to stop it, nor did he want to. He'd given into the rage that he had kept bottled up for so long that one the flood gates had been opened and they refused to be silenced. Jack knew he was one bad bottle of tequila away from completely losing his mind but right now, he didn't give a damn. He wanted to wallow in self-pity and anger and screw whoever came in his way -- even a man he loved as much as the Doctor.
"You don't think I've dealt with death before?" The Doctor continued. "And you think that just because I appear, everything's easy and fine? This is my eleventh incarnation! I've died ten times saving this damned planet, and when I don't appear once, I'm the scourge of the universe?"
"Oooooh. You've died ten times," Jack scoffed. "I get that I'm an abomination in your eyes. But talk to me after you've lived through about two thousand deaths if you will. Sorry to say it doesn't get easier and it gets worse." Jack looked at the Doctor evenly. "The Earth has been in peril plenty of times and we've managed to muddle through just fine on our own. It's when we're in trouble and know we can't get by that is when everything went to hell in a hand cart."
Enough. Jack was tired of talking. He lifted his hand, pointing directly in the Doctor's face. "You? You're comin' with me. And you are going to fix this. At least, what there is to be fixed."
The bruise was rapidly fading from the Doctor's jaw and Jack was struck by the similarities between them both. Two men, destined to watch their lives fall apart in front of their eyes time and time again -- and they were powerless to stop it. Even as Jack made his demand, he knew he had no right to ask what he had. Coupled with the fire in the Doctor's eyes, Jack knew he had finally crossed the line. Up until now, the Doctor had understood Jack's anger -- now, Jack had stepped over that unspoken barrier and he was going to face the Doctor's wrath.
"No. No. I'm not your damned lapdog, Captain. You're a good man, but you're going too far. And I will not have it."
The Doctor caught Jack's gaze and stepped forward, fisting his hands in the lapels of Jack's greatcoat. For such a slight man, Jack was struck by how strong the Time Lord truly was. Jack, for his part, knew better than to struggle and instead stood there, listening to everything the Doctor had to say. It was time someone knocked some sense into him.
"When this damned planet decided to happily hand their children to an alien race, I left. And now apparently everything bad that humanity does, it's my fault." The Doctor ran his tongue in front of his teeth as if trying to get rid of the last traces of blood. Jack could see that the Doctor had finally snapped, had finally been pushed far enough by one Jack Harkness. "So says the man that would have wiped out London if it wasn't for me. Look at you. Just look at you." The Doctor's voice grew harsher as he spoke. "Ianto is dead. He's not going to come back. Just like me, you're going to watch everyone you love die. You're not the first one to lose someone, and you won't be the last either. If you can't handle that after the people you've killed, then maybe I should have left you to die on that warship."
"That wasn't my decision!" Jack exploded. "That was the government that decided to do this. NOT ME! So the majority of humanity are cruel and inhumane people. So that, logically, means to turn your back when there are those of us fighting? Yes, I know I sent those children to them in the 40s. I'm aware of that. It's my cross to bear even if I'll never be able to atone for that sin." He drew his lips into a thin line, looking evenly at the Doctor.
"Would you like to know how Ianto died? He died following my lead, going into the Thames House to confront the 456 directly. It was stupid and brash and in the end I fucking killed him. But at least I tried to do something. And in the end, yes, we got them away, I lost my grandson and my daughter will not even look at me."
"You lost your grandson. I lost everyone. Family. Friends. Before then, my wife and son turned their back on me because I needed to travel." The Doctor's voice became a growl as he angrily let go of Jack, pushing him backwards as he released his lapels. Jack stumbled backwards, the Doctor's words serving as the wakeup call he so desperately needed.
"Over the years, even before I was changed, I couldn't possibly understand since there's no way I could understand everything oh wise one." Jack swallowed hard, squaring off against the Doctor. "I've lost everything time and time again, Doctor. I lost my father, I lost my brother due to being a stupid child and he in turn took members of my team from me. You're not the only one who has loved and lost over the years so don't you dare try to make out like my pain is any less than yours!"
Later, when Jack realised some of the things he had said to the Doctor, he would regret the things he shouted at the other man. Suddenly, as quickly as it had come, the fight left Jack. He swallowed hard, a bit of his sanity beginning to seep back into his head. At long last, grief began to seep its way through the anger, cracking Jack's hard exteriour and letting the bruised and broken man beneath shine through. At last, Jack was letting the Doctor see the man he tried to keep hidden and usually did so successfully.
"His heart is still beating," Jack said, voice cracking. "And I have no idea how to save him," Jack whispered, his words carried on the wind, but hopefully reaching the Doctor.
"He's... alive?" The Doctor's voice lowered to match Jack's. The Doctor turned, stepping back toward Jack and placing a hand on his shoulder. Wordlessly, the Doctor pulled Jack into an embrace, letting his actions speak volumes by way of an apology. Neither man was one for the 'I'm sorries', but the hug went a long way in regards to mending broken bridges. No matter how they may quarrel, the bonds of friendship went deeper than words alone.
In the end, the Doctor needed Jack -- and Jack needed his Doctor.
"Well, then," the Doctor said, stepping back from Jack. "What even happened to him?"
How quickly the conversation turned from angrily shouting at one another to working together to solve a problem. Jack should have been disturbed by the speed emotions changed between them, but instead he was comforted. Now there was a common goal to work toward. He had expelled his anger, gotten it out of his system and now was ready to move on. Together, he and the Doctor would find the solution and bring Ianto back.
Jack had to keep positive otherwise he truly would lose his mind.
"There is nothing like the 456. They look at kids as if they're some sort of a drug -- cocaine for aliens. The ultimate high they called it. They released some sort of virus into the Thames House, killing everyone. Present company excluded."
"The ultimate high?" The Doctor shook his head, disgusted. "Pre-pubescent children of many races produce a cocktail of hormones that can give a 'high'," the Doctor said, taking on a role of instructor. "Humans... well, you're a big mix of compounds! If I drained the fluid from your brains, added the excess amounts of serotonin, a mixture of chemicals from a growing pancreas? Well, I wouldn’t end up doing anything else. Ultimate natural high, as far as I'm aware. I mean, it's illegal. Very illegal. Contravenes the Shadow Proclamation, actually. I remember the R- an old friend that did things like that. Might have been her invention, actually--" Stopping mid-ramble, the Doctor drew in a heavy breath. "Hopefully it won't poison me. Not in small traces. I'd take a sample from you, Jack, but it'll probably have left your system by now --"
"It would. It was nearly six months ago," Jack interjected.
"Ianto will obviously have it still there, though..." the Doctor paused, scratching his chin thoughtfully. "If his heart rate is so slow, it might mean he's in a coma. Quick sample there, and I'll analyse it in the TARDIS. Or down there if I can. Would be faster down there." Nodding at his plan, the Doctor looked at his friend. "C'mon then. The sooner we do this, the better. How long ago was the 456?"
"As I said," Jack repeated, "nearly six months ago." Jack motioned for the Doctor to follow him. He drew in a breath, stopping and turning in the Doctor's direction. "I..." Unfortunately for the Doctor, the words 'I'm sorry' weren't in Jack's vocabulary. "I've lost people before, Doctor. It's never felt like this."
For the briefest of moments, the temptation existed to ask the Doctor to change the past. However, the request died on Jack's tongue. He knew the rules and he knew the doctor would never forgive him for asking. It didn't matter that Jack had spent so many waking moments pretending that he could go back in time and fix the damned mistake he made. The Doctor said nothing and Jack found himself chattering uncharacteristically to fill the silence.
"Yes," Jack muttered. "That's what they were doing, minus all the technobabble thrown in and in this case, technobabble is not good for the soul." Jack drew in a breath, rubbing his his knuckles with his thumb. "Anything that would have been in my bloodstream would have been processed... probably that same day. Maybe the following depending on how potent the virus actually was. We --" Jack broke off, quickly changing the pronoun, "they figured out a way to keep his condition from changing for the worse."
"You're right," The Doctor murmured under his breath. "Probably couldn't handle whatever it is that keeps you alive."
For once, Jack ignored the dig at his immortality. He knew how 'wrong' he was in the Doctor's eyes, but now wasn't the time to get into that. And, to be honest, if the Doctor could fix Ianto -- Jack wouldn't care if the Doctor never met his eyes again.
That may have been taking it a little too far. But if that was the bargain he had to make... it was the bargain he'd have to make.
Jack's babbling had managed to take them from the upper portions of the Hub and down into the main part where Ianto was being held. Reaching Ianto's chamber, Jack flung open slot 007 and wiped the condensation from the glass.
"Well... here he is," Jack said softly.
When Jack turned to look at the Doctor, he saw that familiar tightness in his jaw -- the expression Jack saw whenever the Doctor was deep in thought. Jack stood aside to let the Doctor move in and assess the situation.
"You have to remember that I can't promise anything, Jack," the Doctor said, frowning. "Both of you."
Jack turned then, his brow furrowing at the 'both of you' comment. His eyebrows knit further together when he saw Gwen standing at the door, hanging back as if she wasn't sure if she should enter. After a moment's hesitation, Jack nodded and Gwen slipped into the room. Seemed like curiosity was going to get the better of her, then.
"I know you can't," Jack replied softly, looking down at Ianto. "But at this point... something is better than nothing. We've done everything we know how to do... and this is what we are left with. If you do nothing, he'll die. I-- there isn't much left to lose."
Ignoring the Torchwood team, the Doctor's attention was focused on Ianto. Clearing his throat, the Doctor pulled the panel aside, releasing the sound of the machines keeping tabs on Ianto's heartbeat. Jack bounced nervously on the balls of his feet, watching the Doctor place two fingers against Ianto's neck.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," The Doctor said, though Jack ignored the repeated apologies. "I'll... I'll do my best. But... you won't want to see this. It's the best way that I can analyse traces of bacteria without taking a blood sample. We don't have enough time."
Before Jack could ask what the Doctor was planning, the Doctor had leaned forward and pressed his lips to Ianto's. Jack was torn between finding that kiss arousing and pissing him off. He entered the realm of pure anger as he watched the Doctor press Ianto's mouth open and sweep his tongue inside. Oh no -- there was one person who kissed Ianto Jones and it was him.
Jack suffered from a disease known all the world over as 'hypocrisy'. It was okay for him to snog others, but god forbid he see Ianto locking lips with anyone else. The jealousy damn near killed him.
"Something's... off," the Doctor muttered as he straightened up. "I need to... oh, I need to think..."
"Some of that 'odd' might be me," Jack confessed, looking at Ianto. Yes, he'd given the man more than one kiss since he'd been put into stasis. "And I know you don't think of me as natural. If you know what it is, just tell us. We can find what we need in the vaults if we have it. Something... anything. Just say something, Doctor."
Jack watched as the Doctor's eyes darted back and forth, as if he were reading an entire library of information. His fingers waggled, and Jack had to wonder if he was mentally cross referencing everything he had ever learned.
For once in his life, Jack was completely at a loss and so he stood beside Ianto with his hands shoved into his pockets. It wasn't often the protective shell got pulled back and Jack stared down at Ianto, ice crystals lining his lips and eyelashes. There was no rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, he just lay there so cold and still.
"No, I... I know that there's a touch of impossibility there, I can taste that." The Doctor pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth while he thought. "There's something --- Oh yes!"
Rubbing his temples, the Doctor started mouthing half-words as he paced about, mumbling things that didn't make any sort of sense to Jack. While Jack wanted to press, wanted to know what the Doctor had figured out, he wasn't about to interrupt the Time Lord's thought processes. Once more, the Doctor moved close to Ianto, though this time he slipped a finger into his mouth rather than kiss him.
Vast improvement as far as Jack was concerned.
Bringing the finger back under his nose, the Time Lord inhaled once more. Jack drew his lips into a thin line, watching him with bated breath while every fibre of his being begged to question the Doctor. Frowning, the Doctor sucked the finger into his mouth and promptly began to cough.
"Jack, coffee -- home made, plastic and metal filter, no, double filtered -- and... oh, oh, oh! Excess amounts of dopamine!"
All Jack did was nod, eyes darting back and forth between his frosty lover and the manically bouncing Doctor. The wait was killing him -- absolutely killing him... not to mention the longer Ianto was out of the protective container Jack didn't know how long Ianto could survive in this state.
The Doctor wiped his finger on his trousers then sniffed again. The grin that spread across his face told Jack everything: the Doctor knew what it was. Only question now was how to fix it.
"They didn't release poisons, they released hormones! It all makes perfect sense! They were able to examine the bodies of the children and the 456 could find out whatever they wanted about you lot -- at least biologically." The Doctor coughed again, dabbing at the tears that sprung to his eyes. "Sorry," he said around another cough. "You've been pumping him full of painkillers, weren't you?"
Jack nodded. "Yes, between the painkillers and the types of anaesthesia we have to use to keep him in stasis. Sorry, should have warned you but I also wasn't expecting you to snog the office boy either."
The Doctor doubled over, wincing, then straightened up again. "It's the hypothalamus. Where they get the high from. They attacked it. And Ianto's... Ianto's wasn't working how it should anyway." The Doctor launched into another coughing fit, looking at Jack helplessly. "I need some distilled water. And Smarties. need the E-numbers."
"What do you mean there's something wrong with his hypothalamus?" Jack asked, frowning. "There was nothing wrong with him before we went into the Thames House." Jack turned, finally acknowledging Gwen. "Gwen!"
"On it!" Gwen darted away, her steps thudding on the metal walkways, leaving Jack alone with the Doctor.
"Yes! Well, no. not exactly. The coffee had been contaminated with an alien substance. Filtering it over and over again just gave it a greater potency. See? That’s what I thought was up!" A smug expression settled on the Doctor's face and Jack had to remind himself not to punch him again. "The hypothalamus. It's a huge nerve centre -- basically, anyway. Controls a lot of things. Body temperature, metabolism, and things your scientists haven't even worked out yet." Another cough, this one harsher. "And the coffee contamination was messing with his hypothalamus. When the 456 hormones attacked bits of his system, the coffee 'bug' had already gotten his body used to that kind of level!"
Once Ianto was back, Jack would concentrate on the rest of what the Doctor was saying. Right now, though, Jack wanted Ianto looking at him and breathing. Perhaps kissing him, but he could let that part wait for a little bit. Mostly, all Jack wanted was for those crystal blue eyes to look up at him with recognition, not staring blankly at the ceiling.
The Doctor stepped away from Jack, wiping the tears away from his eyes. His face was red and puffy, almost like he had walked through a field of poppies with a deadly allergy to pollen.
"Now, I don't want to cause a bit of a panic, but I really need the water and Smarties."
"Here!" Gwen arrived back on the scene within minutes as if she had heard the Doctor's plea. She reached the railing, tossing first the jug of distilled water at Jack followed by the Smarties.
"Will this do?" Jack asked, holding the items up in each hand.
Without a word, the Doctor snatched each item from Jack's hand, ripping open the package and stuffing his face with the little sweets. Jack noticed that he barely chewed them, forcing the candy down his throat with giant glugs of water.
"OOooooaaaaugh." The Doctor shook himself, rolling his shoulders. "Right. Much better. I think I can work that out of my system on my own now." He stumbled a bit, caught himself, then ran a hand through his hair. "Mostly can work it out.
There was a part of Jack that itched to know what made the Doctor tick, particularly watching his body metabolise whatever it was that was in Ianto's body. Jack knew how his own body worked, that whatever had happened to him on Satellite 5 had made him impervious to diseases and poisons. It was always a bitch, but eventually Jack's body would work through the poison and leave him as good as new. The Doctor, though, could get rid of a poison by way of Smarties and distilled water. Yes, Jack was more than a bit intrigued!
Later. All of this would come later.
"Okay," The Doctor continued after a sneeze. "We need to restart his entire metabolism. A few chemicals in the right places and he'll be good as new. Hopefully, anyway."
The Doctor's voice dropped, muttering the last bit under his breath. Jack, however, heard everything -- he simply chose to ignore it. Jack needed something to cling to and right now, it was the possibility that the Doctor was going to fix this and set Ianto right. They could deal with the fall-out of the 456 later -- but getting his team back to full strength was top priority. Though, Jack wouldn't lie, he had every intention of taking a few days away from Cardiff just the two of them... provided this worked.
"Ianto just needs his body to speed up a bit! Look at his heart rate, far too slow. He needs a kickstart! Something to get him raring to go!" The Doctor's mouth ran and Jack briefly wondered what Gwen was making of this. It was one thing to watch him over a computer monitor. It was another to see him in the flesh. "Hmm. All right, then! We need glucocorticoid. Hydrocortisone should do. That's the basic one for humans, isn't it?" He pressed on without waiting for a response. "Vasopressin, too. Only in small doses. And a good old electric shock. I know it's basic, but the 456 survive by reacting to human hormones. As soon as the remnants in Ianto are fed and shocked at the same time, well, 'goodbye Vienna'. Ooh. I haven’t said that in ages."
Finding himself nodding, Jack made a mental note of everything the Doctor asked for. He lifted an eyebrow the moment he mentioned using an electric shock, though he knew that would be needed. Right. He could do this.
"Right. Back in a flash."
This time, Jack didn't ask for Gwen's assistance. It would take longer to explain all the chemicals and compounds the Doctor asked for and with each passing moment, Ianto's body grew warmer. The ice crystals had long since melted away and there was a hint of colour beginning to creep into Ianto's features. Time was no longer on their side.
He dug through the various containers they kept, muttering the names of the chemicals like a mantra. Each one was found in turn and Jack soon found himself back in the cold storage area with phials clinking in his hands. Without a word, Jack handed them over to the Doctor. He knew he looked a fright, and knew that his concern over Ianto was opening both Gwen's and the Doctor's eyes. He knew there would be a lot of ribbing later -- mutterings that Jack had finally grown soft in his old age.
Well, in the emotional sense. Certainly not the sexual sense.
"Right! Excellent!" The Doctor took the phials from Jack, shoving his free hand into his coat pocket. After rooting around for a moment, he retrieved a couple of needles packaged in plastic.
"What do you have in there?" Jack muttered under his breath. "The black hole of calcutta? If the Linburg baby is in there, I want to know."
Using each needle and phial in turn, the Doctor carefully measured out each, punctured the skin of his arm, and set about fixing the chemical imbalance in Ianto. No one present mentioned the fact that the Doctor wasn't a trained medical professional. A Doctor in title only.
Blotting away the small bead of blood that formed, the Doctor stepped away and looked at Jack. 'Go on,' his smile seemed to say.
For as long as Jack had searched for a cure -- the moment of truth had arrived and he wasn't sure if he could do this. His nerves had been rubbed raw for the past few months. Jack had sworn he would never allow himself to fall this far when it came to loving another person, but in spite of his protestations Ianto had slipped into his life and his heart. Jack seemed rooted to the floor and it was only when Gwen approached Jack, pushing the paddles into his hands, that Jack was brought back to the present.
There was a saddness in Gwen's eyes, an expression Jack couldn't completely understand as she stepped away from Jack.
"Go on," she said softly, her voice cracking. "Save him."
"Right, then," Jack said, looking down at the paddles. The fairy-tales said the type of shock needed should have been a kiss or something equally, dopily romantic. So it was the choice between using the defibrilator or the romantic kiss.
Jack didn't trust the stories and instead went for the clinical science. Reconnecting the heart monitor, Jack watched the slow beat of his heart for a moment. With a deep breath, he charged the paddles on the lowest setting, placed them against Ianto's chest and sent the volts of electricity through his body. The monitors instantly kicked to life.
Tossing the paddles aside without a thought, Jack reached for Ianto's cold hand and looked down at his lover, waiting for him to open his eyes.
"Come on, damn you, open your eyes. Look at me." Jack closed his eyes, head falling forward to rest on Ianto's abdomen, the last words murmured into his skin. "Please."
Nothing.
Nothing but the steady blip of the heart monitor. If they could trust science, he was alive. There was, unfortunately, a large difference between alive and awake and shaggable.
So far, Ianto was the former.
Jack slid his hand into Ianto's, ignoring the Doctor and Gwen as they stood by. His eyes were fixed on Ianto's waiting for the lashes to flutter and his eyes to open. This was their only chance and he knew it. Ianto's body was too warm to 'survive' a second lowering of body temperatures. If this didn't work, Ianto Jones was going to die.
It had to work, didn't it?
Each second that ticked away felt like a mini-eternity, stretching out before him in a long line. As the seconds passed, Jack began to fall deeper into despair; there was no way he could survive this long.
"Jack... I'm sorry..."
Jack shook his head, listening as the beats on the monitor grew further and further apart. He didn't want to hear the Doctor's apologies, nor was he ready to admit that Ianto was dying. A few more minutes and the monitor would cease to beat, merely intone a steady tone -- a flat line.
"You did your best."
His voice was hollow, the expression on his face empty as he stared at Ianto's lifeless form. Yes, they had done all they could, hadn't they? A sample of blood from Ianto and the TARDIS had made her best guess as to what was slowly killing Ianto. Apparently that guess had been wrong and Jack had no one to blame but himself. It had been sheer folly to think that Ianto could be brought back from a point just before death.
The lies we tell ourselves...
Someone placed a hand on his shoulder but Jack shrugged it off. He didn't want comfort, he simply wanted to be alone with his lover when the time finally ran out for Ianto Jones.
"Leave us," Jack softly commanded. "Please."
The sound of footsteps shuffling behind told Jack the two had left him alone with the dying Ianto. The first time had been hard enough on Jack, watching his life slip away while Jack's own life force diminished with him. Listening to Ianto pleading, the things he said just before the virus had extinguished his life. Thankfully, this time Ianto was unconscious already and death would carry him away in her arms like sleep.
And it afforded Jack the chance to say his final goodbye.
"I know I never had to say it," Jack spoke, brushing the hair back from Ianto's face. "Hell, even when I did say it you always replied 'I know' -- and yet I still always believed you needed to hear it from me." Lifting himself up from the stool, Jack pressed his lips to Ianto's forehead. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't listen to you and I'm sorry I don't get more time with you." A kiss to his cheek this time. "And I do promise you, I'll never forget you no matter what happens. To the ends of the universe, I will always remember you."
Gently, Jack laid his fingertips over Ianto's lips and ignored the breath he felt against them. Wishful thinking on his part and nothing more. Emotion welled up, tightening his chest and forcing his throat closed. He couldn't speak so, in the end, all Jack could do was mouth the words 'I love you'. Jack removed his hand, bending down to brush his lips against Ianto's slightly warm ones just as the monitor ceased beeping and began to herald Ianto Jones's exit from the world.
It hurt more the second time around.
Jack reached over Ianto's body, shutting off the monitor, no longer wanting to hear the constant scream. If Ianto deserved anything, it was a peaceful exit. At least Jack could give him that, right? He wasn't sure how long he remained in the basement, his hand laced with Ianto's, watching his lover lie there so perfectly still. Jack committed every scar, every mark on his skin to memory, creating a perfect picture in his mind's eye that would last him for the rest of eternity. If there was ever a promise Jack made in his life that he was determined to keep, it was the promise to remember him. He knew as time went on it would get easier, that he would find another lover to fill the void and to curl up with late at night. However, Jack also knew there was a small area in the corner of his heart that would never be filled. Only a few lovers and partners had ever left such a space -- they were the individuals who had crawled under Jack's skin in spite of the barriers Jack had tried to keep in place.
Ianto Jones had found that place in Jack's heart of hearts and refused to budge.
After so many hours of searching, Jack was finally admitting defeat. In the end, he couldn't save Ianto -- though he at least got credit for trying. Short of a miracle (which was supposed to come in the form of the Doctor and his TARDIS), there was nothing that could bring Ianto back and Jack was going to have to come to terms with that. Somehow.
Rising from the stool, Jack withdrew his hand from Ianto's, brushing his thumb across Ianto's eyebrows. He stood silently for a moment, trying to come up with something profound and failed miserably.
Eyes, look your last! Arms, take your last embrace! and, lips, O you the doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss.
God, he was a fucking romantic, wasn't he? Only problem with the parallel was Ianto was really dead and Jack wouldn't be falling victim to any poison from a chemists. Still... Jack did follow the instruction, brushing his lips across Ianto's one final time.
"I love you." He finally managed to say the words rather than imply them. "And I'm sorry."
Once again, that damned lump formed in his throat once more and Jack didn't try to dislodge it. Now was his turn to grieve in silence. Maybe he'd travel with the Doctor for a time, promising Gwen that he would return in a few months and take up his post once more. She didn't have to know that he'd spend a few hundred years with the Doctor (if the Doctor would have him for that long) and return when he was ready. Shake off the dust of the Earth and find his soul again -- a soul that wasn't marred by the deaths he had caused over the years. Not just Ianto, but everyone. It was time to atone for his sins: every single one he had carried with him since he let go of Gray's hand as a child.
Enough. No more. Time to move on.
***
Nothing.
No pulse.
No breath.
No life.
No reason to go back.
No--
No reason not to go back.
Th-thump.
Breath.
Open your eyes.
Bright. Light.
***
Time had no meaning while Jack sat beside Ianto. Things ran through his mind: maybe the concotion of chemicals had been off, maybe the damage to the hypothalamus was too greath. Maybe, maybe, maybe -- an eternity of maybes marched before Jack like angry soldiers. Questions that would haunt him for the rest of his very long life.
At last, Jack couldn't take any more. He spun on his heel, putting space between Ianto and himself. The rest of the team could take care of the interment. He had said his good-byes. He had --
"Jack."
He froze, foot poised a few centimetres above the cement floor and nearly pitched forward after being off balance. Only because he was Jack Harkness, complete with cat-like reflexes, did he regain his equilibrium.
No. His imagination needed to stop fucking with him.
"Jack."
The voice was faint but it was still there. Jack crossed the distance in several long strides, skidding to a stop beside Ianto's makeshift bed. He was pale and he may have been shivering but he was alive. There were no words he could say and there was no expression in the human language that could accurately describe his feelings.
As always with the case of Jack Harkness, actions spoke louder than words.
He placed a hand on Ianto's cheek, lowered his head and did the one thing he could: he kissed him. Nothing demanding, merely needed that reassurance that Ianto was there. After a moment, Jack could feel Ianto respond, knew the way Ianto's fingers curled in his hair. Jack was reluctant to pull away, but did at last when air was necessary -- particularly given one of them had been deprived of oxygen for god knows how long.
"I knew you'd do it."
"I gave--"
Ianto pressed a finger against Jack's lips and shook his head. Jack merely nodded, pulled the stool up beside the bed and sat. There were things for another day -- parts of Ianto that were still broken that would need to be fixed. Those were thoughts for another day. For now, all those worries could wait. Jack slid his stool closer, gently brushing his fingers through Ianto's hair.
Neither man needed to speak.
Sometimes, no words were the best words of all.