fic: I'm Going (Where I Can See the Sun Rise)
Title: I’m going (where I can see the sun rise)
Author Name: callmerayray
Original Prompt Number: 153
Pairing(s): Jack/Ianto, Gwen/Rhys
Summary: Only a few people on Earth remember Christmas from the year that never was, or how bright the fires burned.
Rating: PG, barely
Disclaimer: I’m still hoping Santa’s going to leave them under my treat. Until then, they belong to other people. *waits patiently for Christmas*
Warnings: Spoilers for the last three episodes of Dr. Who Season 3. But does that really count anymore?
Word Count: 2,450
Author's Notes: Many, many thanks to my wonderful beta for making sense of my mashed sentences, even when she didn’t have the time. :)
I’m going (where I can see the sun rise)
He could barely see the stars as he sat on the quiet beach and stared up into the too-bright sky. Even if he could, he wouldn't recognize any of them. Different part of the world. Different world, period.
Sometimes he wondered how long the stars would shine. He had seen the fields full of battle ships, seen the spheres turn living human beings into shreds of skin and blood. He had heard the Master's psychotic laughter, broadcast worldwide, before he had become paranoid and shot down the television satellites.
The fire burned brightly, far to the east in the Pacific ocean, lighting up the night sky for miles and miles. Orange light and black smoke poured over the dark water and turned the tranquil beach into a blazing other-world.
Ianto didn't move when the boat came to ground on the quiet China beach, nearly toppling over onto the sand. A small figure fell gracelessly off the bow, collapsing to the ground as sobs wracked her body. Even from here he could smell the smoke on her skin.
Long minutes passed as the woman cried, but Ianto didn't - couldn't - move to offer the comfort he should. His body was numb, static in the cold night air, and there was nothing left in him to give. Not tonight.
Tonight, when the world should have been full of peace and love, presents in bright wrappings and egg-nog beneath sparkling trees, this night the islands of Japan had become a funeral pyre and the world wept when it should have been singing.
The figure by the boat had been still, but moved now with leaden feet and shoulders slumped in despair. She fell to the sand next to Ianto and laid her head on his shoulder.
“He's still alive,” she said. Her voice was hoarse with the tears she had shed, but strong and true as it ever was. “I know it. I can feel it. And that's all that matters.”
And Jack? he wanted to ask. Is Jack still alive? Should he be?
“How can one man fix all this?” he asked instead. She could have her endless faith. He was Welsh, damn it, and he couldn't see a happy ending here.
“You don't know him. If you knew him you would believe.”
Ianto sighed and wrapped one arm around Martha's small waist, pulling her closer, as if he could absorb her belief; as if he too could trust in this man that, as Japan burned and filled the night with soot, was nothing more than a story with a spark of hope.
“Tell me.”
Martha curled her hand into his and began the story he had heard a thousand times already. “I've travelled all across the world, and everywhere I've gone, I've met people, just like us...”
-----
The sky was brightening, the bloody yellow of the sun mixing with the still-blazing fires to waken the world and bring them from one nightmare into another. Martha slept, curled tightly at his side, shivering in the early morning chill. In the vast sky there was one bright false-star left; their lord and Master watching his kingdom weep from his floating fortress, gleaming metal reflecting the fires below.
Buzzing spheres whizzed by overhead. Ianto pulled Martha closer, slipping his hand into the coarse thread looped around her neck and squeezed the small brass key tightly. He exhaled as the creatures bypassed them and watched the Valiant makes its slow way back to orbit over London.
“Happy Christmas, Jack,” he whispered, but the words were pulled away by the soft ocean breeze; no one was there to hear them anyway.
----------------------------
The music was unbearably loud, Owen singing drunkenly along at the top of his lungs to add to the noise. Ianto knew he was being punished for not allowing Janet’s cell to be decorated, but the poor creature's life was miserable enough without subjecting her to sparkling lights and plastic Santa wall hangings.
It was afternoon on Christmas Eve and Ianto had convinced Jack that everyone should go home early. Jack, he knew, did not care for Christmas. He said it was an outdated practiced that was little more than an excuse for people to shower expensive gifts on each other merely so they could feel good about themselves.
Ianto had informed Jack that he was cynical and depressing, and had spent the next week calling him the Grinch - a joke made even funnier by the fact that Jack didn't understand the reference, and no one would explain it to him.
But now they were throwing an impromptu Christmas party, complete with carols blaring through the sound system and Owen's 'traditional' eggnog. Rhys had come by to collect Gwen and was now completely tossed and helping an equally inebriated Tosh try to make it snow indoors using the Hub's internal environmental controls.
Gwen stepped up beside Ianto and slipped her arm around his waist. She leaned into him and Ianto was almost positive that it was more out of necessity than any desire for closeness. “Why such a sour face, Ianto?” she asked.
He gave her a strained smile. “Have you seen Jack around?” he asked. She thought for a moment, then quietly shook her head. If she noticed his sigh she knew enough not to say.
Her arms wrapped tightly around his waist for a moment eyes trained on Rhys, who by now was plunking at the keys of Tosh's computer while Tosh just sat there and giggled. “Go find him,” Gwen said as she untangled herself and turned to walk away, that old sadness in her eyes that was only for Jack.
Ianto nodded. “I will. Oh, and take a cab. I'll park your car in the garage.”
She smiled knowingly, her feet stumbling slightly as she came to a stop and patted at her pockets. A small frown pulled down her eyebrows, but she laughed when Ianto lifted his hand from his own pocket, Gwen's keys dangling from one finger.
Ianto watched as she collected her husband and said goodbye to the others. Then, sure that Gwen was taken care of he went about gathering Tosh and seeing her to the street to wait for her own cab, holding her tightly as they rode the invisible lift. He would have to talk to Jack about getting a handrail installed.
As he rode the lift back down he caught a flash of movement high above the streets. A dark figure, solid and lonely, silhouetted against the pale orange sky.
Inside the Hub he found Owen cleaning up after the party, black trash bag in one hand and his face a careful mask. At Ianto’s stare he shrugged and dropped the bag to the ratty old couch. “Just...thought I'd help.”
Ianto nodded and picked up a few scattered cups. “I think Tosh is still waiting for that cab.”
For a brief second Owen's mask slipped and Ianto saw something close to hope. But then he coughed and turned away; body language stiff, unaffected. “Maybe I should... give her a ride. You know, so she doesn't have to wait.”
“Maybe.” Ianto started picking up the rest of the mess while Owen garnered his courage and left, tossing a hasty 'see ya' over his shoulder as he ran down the front passage.
Sometime later the mess had been cleared, Janet and Myfanwy seen to, and both internal and regional security systems put on their proper settings. Ianto had no other excuse. He could leave. Or he could stop being a coward and go find Jack.
He grabbed his own coat and locked the information booth behind him. Garage to the right, Jack to the left.
He went left, of course.
The sun was nearly gone by the time Ianto was climbing the maintenance ladder to the top of Millennium Centre. Stars we peeking out into the growing dark behind him and the last vestiges of light were holding on like a dying fire over the horizon.
And there was Jack in all his glory, coat rustling in the breeze, his beautiful face set like stone as he watched the sun descend out of sight.
Like all the storybook heroes, Ianto thought: brave and noble, accepting of their destinies but so very alone. Jack had had enough of being alone for one lifetime, Ianto decided.
He walked up behind him, his captain and sometimes lover, and wrapped his arms around him, too tightly at first, until Jack coughed and laughed, his dour mood broken but not quite gone. Finally, he relaxed back into Ianto's embrace, hands covering Ianto's where they rested on his waist and sighed deeply, the tension slowly ebbing away with the last of the light.
Ianto was unsure as to how long they stood there like that, letting the silence envelope them and say all that they couldn't, or wouldn't. Hours passed, he knew, and they eventually sat on the cold, copper surface of the roof, Jack manoeuvring them until Ianto sat between his legs, their bodies pressed together, hearts beating out of sync to create a constant, thrumming melody between them.
The stars came out in force, spreading their delicate patterns across the sky. Ianto carefully searched out all the ones he knew, while behind him Jack would point out one in particular and tell quiet stories about the people that lived there. Ianto wasn't sure if the stories were all true, but he took in each one, gleaning and filing away all the tidbits Jack let slip about his own life as he spoke.
Eventually Ianto slept, lulled into dreams of gleaming stars and bright, burning fires by the sound of Jack's voice.
-----
When he woke they were still there, curled together high above the streets, no sounds but the gentle splash of the bay and gulls crying out over the water. Jack's coat was tucked in around him, the soft wool cocooning him in their shared body heat, but he still shivered in the cold, early morning air. Jack pulled him closer and his breath sighed across Ianto's ear.
The hands wrapped around Ianto's waist were trembling. He folded them up in his own, fingers curling through Jack's and holding on tightly beneath Jack's coat. Jack's heart was beating hard against Ianto's back, and a quick glance back found that same, haunted look in Jack's eyes that was always there when he remembered...whatever it was.
It had been months since Jack's return and he never said any more about his time away than that he was with the Doctor; months since he’d told Ianto that he would never tell.
Ianto respected that; he had never pressed Jack for more information than he was willing to give. He knew that all people had their secrets, Jack just had more than most. But sometimes he wished that Jack would allow himself to share the burdens that so often caused him to pull away from them.
Ianto sat quietly, enjoying the warmth and stillness while Jack lost himself in thought. The sun was nearly awake behind them, chasing away all but one small star low down on the horizon. The bay was splashed with hues of orange and red and the breeze brought the clean, salt scent from the sea.
After a while one of Jack's hands carefully slipped from Ianto's, and, thinking Jack finally wished to go inside like a normal person, Ianto moved to stand up. Before he could do more than wiggle away from Jack's chest Jack's other hand clamped down on his hip and yanked him back into place.
At Ianto's indignant noise of protest Jack buried his rather cold nose in Ianto's neck and laughed quietly. Ianto let out a long-suffering sigh and moved back to where he had previously been. “Good morning,” Jack murmured, warm lips covering the cold patch of skin his nose had assaulted.
Ianto hummed a reply and tipped his head to the side, giving Jack better access to places that needed warming. When Jack's mouth reached that sensitive place behind his ear Ianto felt something hard and warm slide into his hand. Jack's fingers lingered for just a moment before slipping away again.
Ianto carefully extracted his hand from beneath the coat, taking care to not let in too much cold air, and stared down in confusion at the small brass key in his palm.
“Jack,” he said, thumb rubbing over the body-warmed surface. “I already own a key to...everything you have here.”
Jack smiled against his skin again, his chin resting on Ianto's shoulder. “It's not mine,” he said, placing one last kiss to Ianto's neck. “The thing that goes to. It's not mine.”
Ianto moved the key to hold it between his thumb and forefinger and stared at it again. It was a perfectly ordinary key, no words or other markings on the smooth surface to explain its existence, with a length of course brown string glued to one side.
“What-”
“It's to the TARDIS.”
Ianto's eyes widened and he looked at the key in newfound amazement. “You have a key...to the TARDIS?”
“Yup.”
“The TARDIS?”
Jack laughed and nipped gently at Ianto's ear. “Yes. Well...no. You have a key to the TARDIS. I don't need it anymore.”
Ianto swallowed around the lump in his throat and tried to think of something to say. It was true that ever since Jack had returned Ianto had feared that he would leave again. But he had come to terms with that. Jack wasn't one to be held down. He had too much life, quite literally, to be stuck anywhere for long.
“I mean,” Jack sighed, one hand playing with the thread that trailed down from the key held loosely in Ianto's palm, the other holding tightly to Ianto's hip. “I can't promise that I'll never leave again. But I-”
Ianto turned and pressed his mouth to Jack's, cutting off whatever he had planned to say. Ianto didn't need to hear it. He knew. Jack would always come back.
One hand slid into Jack's hair while the other quietly slipped the key into his own pocket. Ianto hummed in appreciation as Jack kissed him back soundly but when he shivered again from the cold Jack placed one last kiss on his mouth and turned him back around. A moment to get the coat settled back over them both, then they were sitting quietly again, watching the day brighten.
The last star faded out of sight and Ianto smiled. “Happy Christmas, Jack,” he said, the weight of the key settling in his breast pocket.
A kiss to his shoulder and, “Happy Christmas, Ianto.”
Author Name: callmerayray
Original Prompt Number: 153
Pairing(s): Jack/Ianto, Gwen/Rhys
Summary: Only a few people on Earth remember Christmas from the year that never was, or how bright the fires burned.
Rating: PG, barely
Disclaimer: I’m still hoping Santa’s going to leave them under my treat. Until then, they belong to other people. *waits patiently for Christmas*
Warnings: Spoilers for the last three episodes of Dr. Who Season 3. But does that really count anymore?
Word Count: 2,450
Author's Notes: Many, many thanks to my wonderful beta for making sense of my mashed sentences, even when she didn’t have the time. :)
I’m going (where I can see the sun rise)
He could barely see the stars as he sat on the quiet beach and stared up into the too-bright sky. Even if he could, he wouldn't recognize any of them. Different part of the world. Different world, period.
Sometimes he wondered how long the stars would shine. He had seen the fields full of battle ships, seen the spheres turn living human beings into shreds of skin and blood. He had heard the Master's psychotic laughter, broadcast worldwide, before he had become paranoid and shot down the television satellites.
The fire burned brightly, far to the east in the Pacific ocean, lighting up the night sky for miles and miles. Orange light and black smoke poured over the dark water and turned the tranquil beach into a blazing other-world.
Ianto didn't move when the boat came to ground on the quiet China beach, nearly toppling over onto the sand. A small figure fell gracelessly off the bow, collapsing to the ground as sobs wracked her body. Even from here he could smell the smoke on her skin.
Long minutes passed as the woman cried, but Ianto didn't - couldn't - move to offer the comfort he should. His body was numb, static in the cold night air, and there was nothing left in him to give. Not tonight.
Tonight, when the world should have been full of peace and love, presents in bright wrappings and egg-nog beneath sparkling trees, this night the islands of Japan had become a funeral pyre and the world wept when it should have been singing.
The figure by the boat had been still, but moved now with leaden feet and shoulders slumped in despair. She fell to the sand next to Ianto and laid her head on his shoulder.
“He's still alive,” she said. Her voice was hoarse with the tears she had shed, but strong and true as it ever was. “I know it. I can feel it. And that's all that matters.”
And Jack? he wanted to ask. Is Jack still alive? Should he be?
“How can one man fix all this?” he asked instead. She could have her endless faith. He was Welsh, damn it, and he couldn't see a happy ending here.
“You don't know him. If you knew him you would believe.”
Ianto sighed and wrapped one arm around Martha's small waist, pulling her closer, as if he could absorb her belief; as if he too could trust in this man that, as Japan burned and filled the night with soot, was nothing more than a story with a spark of hope.
“Tell me.”
Martha curled her hand into his and began the story he had heard a thousand times already. “I've travelled all across the world, and everywhere I've gone, I've met people, just like us...”
-----
The sky was brightening, the bloody yellow of the sun mixing with the still-blazing fires to waken the world and bring them from one nightmare into another. Martha slept, curled tightly at his side, shivering in the early morning chill. In the vast sky there was one bright false-star left; their lord and Master watching his kingdom weep from his floating fortress, gleaming metal reflecting the fires below.
Buzzing spheres whizzed by overhead. Ianto pulled Martha closer, slipping his hand into the coarse thread looped around her neck and squeezed the small brass key tightly. He exhaled as the creatures bypassed them and watched the Valiant makes its slow way back to orbit over London.
“Happy Christmas, Jack,” he whispered, but the words were pulled away by the soft ocean breeze; no one was there to hear them anyway.
----------------------------
The music was unbearably loud, Owen singing drunkenly along at the top of his lungs to add to the noise. Ianto knew he was being punished for not allowing Janet’s cell to be decorated, but the poor creature's life was miserable enough without subjecting her to sparkling lights and plastic Santa wall hangings.
It was afternoon on Christmas Eve and Ianto had convinced Jack that everyone should go home early. Jack, he knew, did not care for Christmas. He said it was an outdated practiced that was little more than an excuse for people to shower expensive gifts on each other merely so they could feel good about themselves.
Ianto had informed Jack that he was cynical and depressing, and had spent the next week calling him the Grinch - a joke made even funnier by the fact that Jack didn't understand the reference, and no one would explain it to him.
But now they were throwing an impromptu Christmas party, complete with carols blaring through the sound system and Owen's 'traditional' eggnog. Rhys had come by to collect Gwen and was now completely tossed and helping an equally inebriated Tosh try to make it snow indoors using the Hub's internal environmental controls.
Gwen stepped up beside Ianto and slipped her arm around his waist. She leaned into him and Ianto was almost positive that it was more out of necessity than any desire for closeness. “Why such a sour face, Ianto?” she asked.
He gave her a strained smile. “Have you seen Jack around?” he asked. She thought for a moment, then quietly shook her head. If she noticed his sigh she knew enough not to say.
Her arms wrapped tightly around his waist for a moment eyes trained on Rhys, who by now was plunking at the keys of Tosh's computer while Tosh just sat there and giggled. “Go find him,” Gwen said as she untangled herself and turned to walk away, that old sadness in her eyes that was only for Jack.
Ianto nodded. “I will. Oh, and take a cab. I'll park your car in the garage.”
She smiled knowingly, her feet stumbling slightly as she came to a stop and patted at her pockets. A small frown pulled down her eyebrows, but she laughed when Ianto lifted his hand from his own pocket, Gwen's keys dangling from one finger.
Ianto watched as she collected her husband and said goodbye to the others. Then, sure that Gwen was taken care of he went about gathering Tosh and seeing her to the street to wait for her own cab, holding her tightly as they rode the invisible lift. He would have to talk to Jack about getting a handrail installed.
As he rode the lift back down he caught a flash of movement high above the streets. A dark figure, solid and lonely, silhouetted against the pale orange sky.
Inside the Hub he found Owen cleaning up after the party, black trash bag in one hand and his face a careful mask. At Ianto’s stare he shrugged and dropped the bag to the ratty old couch. “Just...thought I'd help.”
Ianto nodded and picked up a few scattered cups. “I think Tosh is still waiting for that cab.”
For a brief second Owen's mask slipped and Ianto saw something close to hope. But then he coughed and turned away; body language stiff, unaffected. “Maybe I should... give her a ride. You know, so she doesn't have to wait.”
“Maybe.” Ianto started picking up the rest of the mess while Owen garnered his courage and left, tossing a hasty 'see ya' over his shoulder as he ran down the front passage.
Sometime later the mess had been cleared, Janet and Myfanwy seen to, and both internal and regional security systems put on their proper settings. Ianto had no other excuse. He could leave. Or he could stop being a coward and go find Jack.
He grabbed his own coat and locked the information booth behind him. Garage to the right, Jack to the left.
He went left, of course.
The sun was nearly gone by the time Ianto was climbing the maintenance ladder to the top of Millennium Centre. Stars we peeking out into the growing dark behind him and the last vestiges of light were holding on like a dying fire over the horizon.
And there was Jack in all his glory, coat rustling in the breeze, his beautiful face set like stone as he watched the sun descend out of sight.
Like all the storybook heroes, Ianto thought: brave and noble, accepting of their destinies but so very alone. Jack had had enough of being alone for one lifetime, Ianto decided.
He walked up behind him, his captain and sometimes lover, and wrapped his arms around him, too tightly at first, until Jack coughed and laughed, his dour mood broken but not quite gone. Finally, he relaxed back into Ianto's embrace, hands covering Ianto's where they rested on his waist and sighed deeply, the tension slowly ebbing away with the last of the light.
Ianto was unsure as to how long they stood there like that, letting the silence envelope them and say all that they couldn't, or wouldn't. Hours passed, he knew, and they eventually sat on the cold, copper surface of the roof, Jack manoeuvring them until Ianto sat between his legs, their bodies pressed together, hearts beating out of sync to create a constant, thrumming melody between them.
The stars came out in force, spreading their delicate patterns across the sky. Ianto carefully searched out all the ones he knew, while behind him Jack would point out one in particular and tell quiet stories about the people that lived there. Ianto wasn't sure if the stories were all true, but he took in each one, gleaning and filing away all the tidbits Jack let slip about his own life as he spoke.
Eventually Ianto slept, lulled into dreams of gleaming stars and bright, burning fires by the sound of Jack's voice.
-----
When he woke they were still there, curled together high above the streets, no sounds but the gentle splash of the bay and gulls crying out over the water. Jack's coat was tucked in around him, the soft wool cocooning him in their shared body heat, but he still shivered in the cold, early morning air. Jack pulled him closer and his breath sighed across Ianto's ear.
The hands wrapped around Ianto's waist were trembling. He folded them up in his own, fingers curling through Jack's and holding on tightly beneath Jack's coat. Jack's heart was beating hard against Ianto's back, and a quick glance back found that same, haunted look in Jack's eyes that was always there when he remembered...whatever it was.
It had been months since Jack's return and he never said any more about his time away than that he was with the Doctor; months since he’d told Ianto that he would never tell.
Ianto respected that; he had never pressed Jack for more information than he was willing to give. He knew that all people had their secrets, Jack just had more than most. But sometimes he wished that Jack would allow himself to share the burdens that so often caused him to pull away from them.
Ianto sat quietly, enjoying the warmth and stillness while Jack lost himself in thought. The sun was nearly awake behind them, chasing away all but one small star low down on the horizon. The bay was splashed with hues of orange and red and the breeze brought the clean, salt scent from the sea.
After a while one of Jack's hands carefully slipped from Ianto's, and, thinking Jack finally wished to go inside like a normal person, Ianto moved to stand up. Before he could do more than wiggle away from Jack's chest Jack's other hand clamped down on his hip and yanked him back into place.
At Ianto's indignant noise of protest Jack buried his rather cold nose in Ianto's neck and laughed quietly. Ianto let out a long-suffering sigh and moved back to where he had previously been. “Good morning,” Jack murmured, warm lips covering the cold patch of skin his nose had assaulted.
Ianto hummed a reply and tipped his head to the side, giving Jack better access to places that needed warming. When Jack's mouth reached that sensitive place behind his ear Ianto felt something hard and warm slide into his hand. Jack's fingers lingered for just a moment before slipping away again.
Ianto carefully extracted his hand from beneath the coat, taking care to not let in too much cold air, and stared down in confusion at the small brass key in his palm.
“Jack,” he said, thumb rubbing over the body-warmed surface. “I already own a key to...everything you have here.”
Jack smiled against his skin again, his chin resting on Ianto's shoulder. “It's not mine,” he said, placing one last kiss to Ianto's neck. “The thing that goes to. It's not mine.”
Ianto moved the key to hold it between his thumb and forefinger and stared at it again. It was a perfectly ordinary key, no words or other markings on the smooth surface to explain its existence, with a length of course brown string glued to one side.
“What-”
“It's to the TARDIS.”
Ianto's eyes widened and he looked at the key in newfound amazement. “You have a key...to the TARDIS?”
“Yup.”
“The TARDIS?”
Jack laughed and nipped gently at Ianto's ear. “Yes. Well...no. You have a key to the TARDIS. I don't need it anymore.”
Ianto swallowed around the lump in his throat and tried to think of something to say. It was true that ever since Jack had returned Ianto had feared that he would leave again. But he had come to terms with that. Jack wasn't one to be held down. He had too much life, quite literally, to be stuck anywhere for long.
“I mean,” Jack sighed, one hand playing with the thread that trailed down from the key held loosely in Ianto's palm, the other holding tightly to Ianto's hip. “I can't promise that I'll never leave again. But I-”
Ianto turned and pressed his mouth to Jack's, cutting off whatever he had planned to say. Ianto didn't need to hear it. He knew. Jack would always come back.
One hand slid into Jack's hair while the other quietly slipped the key into his own pocket. Ianto hummed in appreciation as Jack kissed him back soundly but when he shivered again from the cold Jack placed one last kiss on his mouth and turned him back around. A moment to get the coat settled back over them both, then they were sitting quietly again, watching the day brighten.
The last star faded out of sight and Ianto smiled. “Happy Christmas, Jack,” he said, the weight of the key settling in his breast pocket.
A kiss to his shoulder and, “Happy Christmas, Ianto.”