Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Torchwood or Doctor Who. They belong to BBC Wales and RTD. I do not earn anything at all with my writings. Rated M for swearing and some sexual content, though not explicit. Be warned, a lot of Jack and Gwen bashing.
Summary: A Christmas tale about Jack and Ianto, but definitelynot a happy one. In all honesty, it is filled with so much angst and chaos, that you may need a paper bag to throw up in … you have been warned! Why a woeful tale at Christmas time instead of a fluffy offering? Because it reflects what sometimes happens in people's lives around this time of year … the darkside of the festive season. As this is my own creation, it does not link to any TW/DW episode, but it does include mention of some past events and some of the characters from both series … as well as a character I created. Admittedly, this is a late offering considering Christmastide is well and truly past, however, I was busy with other things. So – here it is …
When Angels Sigh at Christmas
Chapter 1 A Letter and Gift
Jack opened his eyes slowly, and then screwed them up tightly at the shaft of light filtering through the curtained window. He forced his eyes open again, bit by bit, adjusting to the morning as it gradually woke him up. Jack felt more refreshed than he ever had before after his night's sleep, remembering how after a beautiful evening of gentle lovemaking, he had shared deeply and honestly with Ianto about all his previous loved ones and their place in his heart.
Ianto had listened quietly as Jack had held him in his strong embrace, then he had thoughtfully offered to make a nightcap for them both, citing Jack's husky throat being dry after telling such a long tale. Jack smiled at Ianto's thoughtfulness … at work or when they were alone, Ianto was always mindful of other people – never himself.
Returning to bed, Ianto had kissed Jack deeply, longingly, then had turned over allowing Jack to spoon around his back. It had been quite early for them to be retiring for the night being only 10.30 p.m. Jack had smiled at Ianto's neck, then kissed it softly before drifting off into a restful sleep that had captured him, then carried him into dreamless rest, free from the ghosts of his past.
Reaching out a languid arm for his lover, Jack startled when it encountered an empty space. His hand reached down and found the spot next to him not only empty, but cold. Sitting upright immediately and turning his head, Jack realised that he was alone in Ianto's bed.
His head flicked quickly over to the clock on the night stand. It read 6.15 a.m. Christmas Eve morning. Jack frowned. He and Ianto had agreed at work yesterday that they would sleep in until 7.30 a.m. before heading into work to prepare for the annual Torchwood Christmas Eve dinner. The rest of the team wouldn't be arriving until 8.30 a.m. to finish up their final reports before everyone headed home in the early afternoon to prepare the food for their shared evening meal.
Jack threw the covers off his body, figuring Ianto couldn't sleep and would either be at his computer or in the kitchen preparing their breakfast. But as Jack's feet hit the cold floor, a small fear crept into his mind that numbed him more than the freezing temperature. The flat was quiet … too quiet.
Leaping off the bed, Jack dashed out into the hallway. No lights were on. He entered the kitchen but all was as clean and tidy as they had left it last night. He entered the lounge but Ianto wasn't there and Jack realised with a sinking feeling that Ianto wasn't in the flat at all.
Something was wrong … very wrong. Jack looked around at the decorated lounge, the small imitation Christmas tree with its presents laid beneath it, waiting to be transported to the Hub. A wild thought that Ianto had risen early and decided to go into the Hub early filled Jack with hope. He was about to go back to the bedroom and ring Ianto on his mobile, when he saw it. A white envelope with his name in Ianto's distinctive script … not a post-it … not a piece of pad paper … a white envelope, propped up against the small, empty vase on the dining room table.
Jack's hope vanished as he stared at the white envelope for a long time. Then he willed himself to move to the table and shaky fingers picked up the sealed envelope, then tore it open. Three pages of handwritten script greeted Jack. Trembling slightly, not even feeling the cold now, Jack took the letter and sat down on the sofa. His breath catching in his throat, Jack read it.
Dear Jack
Please, please forgive me. If not now, then perhaps as time goes by. I'm so sorry, Jack, sorrier than I can ever say that I just wasn't strong enough. I wasn't strong enough to stay with you. Despite the fact that I'm leaving you and leaving Torchwood, I want you to know that I'll never forget the 'dashing, handsome Captain' who stole my heart long ago in Bute Park where we met for the first time, battling a Weevil. Yes Jack, even back then when my sole intention was to get into Torchwood Three so I could save Lisa, I was still shocked at how the mere sight of you took my breath away.
Then again in the warehouse when we caught Myfanwy, our close embrace on that dirty floor left me dazed when I stared into your beautiful, blue eyes. There and then, Jack, I felt this overwhelming desire to lean down and touch my lips to yours. But guilt overtook me and I got up and left you, tears streaming down my face as I walked out of that warehouse, confused and angry at my 'betrayal' to Lisa.
I love you, Jack and perhaps I always will. I know that a part of my heart will always belong to you, even if I'm lucky enough to find someone who will love me – and only me. I know my 21st century thinking on monogamous relationships never found a home in you. I may still have a chance for lasting happiness, Jack and I'd like to believe that you would wish that for me.
When you were away with the Doctor and I visited London on Torchwood business at an International Torchwood Convention, I met someone there whom I would have taken a chance on, if I hadn't already been in love with you. That person and I became friends instead for the two weeks we knew each other and we have kept in touch since then. I've just got off the phone from him and he is going to let me stay with him awhile, knowing that I'm nursing a broken heart … again. Yes, he was there for me when I was heartbroken when you had left me for your Doctor.
Perhaps in time when I am more healed, I will find true love with him because he offered me the chance of a relationship the first time we met. Honestly, he did, Jack, he confessed to me on our last day together, that he had fallen in love with me at first sight. Can you believe it? I know I believed him because that is exactly what happened to me the first time I laid eyes on you.
Jack, I realise I owe you some kind of explanation, especially as my decision to leave you will look like it is a 'spur of the moment' thing. But I guess it has been building up for some time because despite the horrendous heartache I am suffering right now, there is a certain calmness and clarity within me that says I am doing the right thing – for me.
I won't burden you with a catalogue of all the times you've hurt me with your flirtations, your indiscretions and your periods of moodiness as you lamented over people you have 'loved and lost' in your life. That would take too many pages Jack and I don't have time to write it all out. But you need to understand that all these hurts wore me down Jack, pushed me to my limits. Until last night when you finally broke me.
We had enjoyed such a wonderful day yesterday with the team, courtesy of a quiet Rift. We all laughed and joked, took turns at kissing each other under the mistletoe, shared our plans for Christmas and looked forward to Christmas Eve dinner. I felt happier than I had in a long time. I was with my dearest friends and at my side stood the man I loved with all my heart.
The final straw, Jack, came last night. We had shared a beautiful dinner together, laughed and chatted our way through wrapping gifts, then the evening culminated in such a wonderful lovemaking session that just took my breath away! But then as I lay wrapped in our afterglow, in the warmth of your embrace, you chose that special moment of 'togetherness' to burden me with your litany of lovers you have 'loved and lost'. Not only those you had loved and lost such as Captain John Hart, Estelle, Algy, Lucia, the real Captain Jack Harkness, but also those whom you had loved but could never have. You named many others Jack, but I confess I could not keep up with them all!
What really struck me last night, Jack, were the four people you named that you still love but can never have: Rose Tyler, Martha Jones, the Doctor and … Gwen Cooper-Williams. You see, for the first time last night, I realised something after all those previous episodes of listening to you rattle off the names of former lovers. On your current list of people you love now, Jack, there was one name missing … mine.
You have never mentioned me in your list of lovers that you have loved or love now. Oh, I knew that you would never say those three little words to me, Jack, knew I'd never hear you say 'I love you', but I was so hopelessly blind in love with you, hopelessly caught up in our part-time domesticity, that I believed that I was more than a 'friend with benefits' to you. I thought you cared more deeply for me than that. How utterly wrong I was!
Last night was like an epiphany Jack, albeit the most painfulepiphany I've ever had to experience in my life. Last night, Captain Jack Harkness, you finally broke my heart … completely … utterly … irretrievably. And there is nothing you can say, nothing you can do now that will ever fix it.
Perhaps I could have endured Jack, endured all the pieces of my heart you tore out with all that you said and all that you did that just left me in pain … left me bleeding. If I had been strong enough Jack, I would have endured. But I'm not and for that, I am sorrier than I can say – not just for you, but for me as well. Giving you up is the single hardest thing I have ever done in my life.
I ask your forgiveness for what I did to you last night. You seemed to interpret my silence in your arms last night as acceptance of all that you said to me. In truth, I was overcome with burning pain ripping my insides to shreds. How I managed to calmly get out of bed, offer refreshments and then go out and make them, I'll never know. But I did and in my kitchen cupboard on the top shelf, are the sedatives Owen prescribed me a short while ago after that Weevil hunt that went wrong and I was injured. I placed two of them in your hot chocolate so that when I rose from my bed for the last time and packed my bags, you would not be awakened.
As tempting as it is to completely obliterate you from my life with Retcon, I cannot do that because if I erase my memories, I lose so many other people besides you, Jack, including Lisa and my team mates at Torchwood. In time I know that my memories of you will no longer hurt me.
I will make arrangements once I've reached my destination, well, perhaps after New Year when lawyers are available, to sell my flat. All my possessions and my car will go to my sister, Rhiannon, however, I need the sale from my flat to help me set up my new life overseas. Please give my house key to Toshiko after you've locked up, and she will arrange to pass it to Rhiannon who will represent me when selling my flat. Therefore on a practical note, Jack, you may consider this letter as formal notification of my resigning my position as Archivist, Torchwood Three.
I have sent a farewell message on my laptop to our Torchwood team, although I will ring Toshiko and Rhiannon from the airport to say my farewells to them. I ask please that you take the gifts we have wrapped for the team into the Hub for me. If the team want me to receive their gifts, then Toshiko will arrange to send them to Rhiannon who will have, of course, my new contact details. Please do not harass my sister for these details. Besides, I know she will not give them to you for my sake and Rhiannon is far more formidable than Gwen.
I will email Toshiko through my new, personal email account, and send her instructions for the Archives, feeding needs and routines for Myfanwy, Janet and the rest of our 'guests' in the cells. I will also send her the list of coffee beans to purchase, instructions on how to use the coffee machine and the secrets of my special blends. You will find my gun and ammunition, security ID and keys for Torchwood in the right-hand drawer of my bureau. Finally, as a remembrance of me, I have left you my stopwatch and the last photo Gwen took of you and me together at the Hub, in the left-hand bureau drawer.
My Christmas gifts to our team and my family, as well as my Christmas gifts to you, are under the tree. Please bring these gifts into the Hub and I will arrange for Tosh to deliver my gifts to my family. Jack, my gifts to you are still my gifts to you, should you choose to accept them. I had intended to take all the gifts into the Hub today to place under our big Christmas tree. However, in the right-hand side of my bedroom drawers, the small one, there is my personal gift to you. I realise now that it will hold no significance for you, but I ask you to at least look at it before disposing of it. The reason being; because it was my declaration of love and hope to you and I want you to see the extent of that love.
I have said all that needs to be said, Jack, so I will part with this final exhortation. Please … do not try and contact me … do not try and find me … do not hate me too long. My final blessing to you, Jack: May you find the depth of love in a person that will not make you run away; that will not make you pine for past lovers, or lovers you can never have; that will hold you firmly in their hearts so that you never wish to stray; that will give you all the security, peace, happiness, joy and excitement you constantly crave; in short, the kind of person whose love is strong enough to bring out the tremendous love you have buried in your heart.
Farewell, my handsome Captain Jack Harkness, whom I have loved with all my heart.
Ianto Jones
Jack's hands trembled the whole time he read, then reread Ianto's letter, tears pooling in his eyes but remaining unshed as he fought for control of his emotions. Pain pierced him as keenly as any sword, as roughly as any Weevil injury, as thoroughly as any virus. Jack's heart was in agony as it began to splinter into thousands of pieces.
With a sickening lurch in his gut, Jack realised the terrible damage he had inflicted on Ianto last night, by trying to rid himself of his demons. And Ianto had totally misread his intentions when he shared with his lover last night, openly and honestly, just wanting to lay out all his cards on the table.
But the one thing Jack had failed to do, was to reassure Ianto that his love for him far outweighed his love for the others. Then he remembered. Tiredness had overtaken him at the point where he was going to make his own declaration of love to Ianto … after he had finished his hot chocolate. Not realising he was drugged, Jack had decided to wait until the morning to tell Ianto just how much he loved him … how much the young Welshman meant to him … and now it was too late. Jack howled in pain and frustration at Ianto's actions and his own inaction!
As he slowly raised himself to his feet, Jack realised his body was trembling as he forced himself to walk back into the bedroom, Ianto's letter placed carefully on the table as he passed by. Shaking fingers slowly drew out the small drawer which was now empty, save for the one, small gift.
Jack wrapped his huge hand around the gift and walking over to the bed, sat down to carefully open it, noting the beautiful red and gold Christmas paper, finished with a golden bow. Out of the ripped paper, Jack pulled out a midnight blue, velvet ring box. Hands trembling, Jack carefully opened it and read the small note, etched carefully in gold ink on midnight blue bond paper, in Ianto's beautiful script: Captain Jack Harkness, I love you with all my heart. Will you do me the honour of marrying me? Jack placed the paper down and lifted out the beautifully etched silver wedding band. As he peered closely at it, noting the intricate Welsh designs on it, he caught a glimpse of an inscription inside which was etched in Welsh. He didn't know what it said because he had never learnt Welsh.
Ianto's amazing, beautiful, wonderful gift was more than Jack could bear … his world shattered and he could no longer stem the tide of tears and heartbreaking sobs that wrenched his body. Jack had lost him … lost Ianto Jones … lost the man who never knew that he was truly loved by him, Jack Harkness … lost the man whom he had hoped would marry him one day.
Jack fell back on the bed, his legs pulled up to his chest as he filled the air with his wounded cries, nearly choking with the burning pain in his chest as his muscles heaved and lungs fought to take in and expel air. Every inch of him hurt as he drowned in grief and guilt. Image after image of Ianto exploded in front of his closed eyes; thoughts of his Welsh lover in the same agony he was in, tormented his mind. One word echoed in his mind … No! … No! … No! … No! Jack had never felt so lost … so powerless … so out of control … so alone, as he did that fateful Christmas Eve morning.
After a long time of mourning, fatigue overcame Jack and he turned his head to stare at the clock. 7.45 a.m. Jack drew himself to his feet, shoulders hunched in grief and a headache pounding in his ears. A wild hope broke through. Grabbing his mobile, Jack hit the speed dial for Ianto. A recorded message: The number you have dialled is no longer in service. He groaned in despair, then recovering slightly, hit the speed dial for Toshiko. A recorded message began, which he clicked off in a burst of anger.
Jack turned to Ianto's wardrobe and pulled the doors open, confirming what he knew already. Empty, save for a couple of wire hangers. Insisting on driving the wounds deeper into his soul, Jack pulled out every drawer and threw open every cupboard in the bedroom. Empty.
Grabbing a towel from the linen cupboard, Jack quickly showered, noting after he was drying himself off that he had just washed away the last traces of their lovemaking last night. Fresh sobs burst forth from Jack as he collapsed down on the icy cold tiles of the bathroom. He wished he hadn't showered.
Pulling himself together, Jack went back to the bedroom and threw his clothes on, pausing only to place the precious ring box into his pocket. He reached for the carry all in the bottom of Ianto's wardrobe and went into the lounge, first loading up all the gifts under the tree, before emptying the bureau drawer as per Ianto's instructions. He then grabbed his coat, mobile, keys and Ianto's letter before heading swiftly out of the flat.
Turning to lock the flat with the key he had been given a while ago, Jack's eyes filled again with tears as he whispered a mournful 'good bye' to the wooden door. Bounding down the stairs, Jack left the apartment complex and headed for the SUV.