It's me again, with another cute little one shot, set just before 'Same Mistake' in Gwen's POV. I really liked this idea, 'cause it's not a pairing I've come across much, but I find them kinda cute 3
She'd been awake for a little over 52 hours when the sofa in the Hub began to look so inviting and comfortable and convenient that it was impossible to resist. She sat, tense and too afraid to move for fear that she'd literally break down, and let her blank eyes wander aimlessly. They settled on Jack's office, always mysterious, wrecked almost beyond recognition and hopelessly empty, deserted, a cold and unfriendly reminder of why she hadn't been home for three days. Of why she'd given up on trying to sleep, given up on simply lying in bed after fits of sobbing. Of why she'd simply ignored Rhys' calls and texts; his words were calm and comforting but completely useless. Of why she'd taken refuge here, in the Hub, surrounding herself with Jack's world, simply waiting.
She tried to remember the last thing she'd said, but her mind was a pale and frosty blank space, although she recalled snapping at Ianto a few hours ago, right before he disappeared from the base. At this memory, she sighed heavily and curled up on her side, pushing gratefully into the warmth of the sofa cushions. She'd never wanted to be that bitter towards Ianto, but it was hard, everything was hard, everything was falling apart. Everything - her life, her work, her thoughts - were spiralling out of control in a downpour of worry and a numb sense of loss.
Somewhere nearby, no doubt buried beneath the rubble, a piece of machinery whirled and buzzed mockingly, as if to pull her from her peaceful reverie. Letting out a stream of pointless curses, she limped across the room, sifting rubble here and there, until she uncovered the object of offence: a tiny ball wobbling around a glass cube filled with a deep purple liquid. Numbers and letters, codes and logarithms, secrets and mysteries appeared at different points on the object before melting away. Before - before all of this - Tosh had deduced that it was an outer space communication device, but she'd never completed her work.
Thoughts of Toshiko flooded her mind, memories that she'd managed to suppress fought their way to the surface as she blinked at the little machine. Fat tears slid down her cheeks, and she shook with annoyance that such a little metal thing should cause her to cry. She cradled it in her hands as if it were a mere extension of Tosh herself, the lone remnant of her friend's life, and placed it respectfully to rest on a nearby desk, all the while wiping furiously at her warm cheeks.
Promptly, leeringly, the table collapsed under the pressure of Gwen's hands and the tiny cube shattered on the littered floor, sending the purple liquid pooling over fallen piles of paper, and the small globe inside rolled off towards the water tower, lost to the drains that ran through the Hub.
Gwen roared with repressed grief, and a new wave of panic stemming from Jack's disappearance, and thumped out at whatever she could reach. Her balled fists connected with the table leg and, kicking wildly at the nearest object, she lost her footing as the heel of her boot gave in. Fuming, she landed on the floor, tore off her boots and threw them with as much force as she could muster at the water tower.
"Little old for tantrums, aren't we?" Ianto's cool voice came from nowhere, and yet echoed around the entire Hub. His joking tone assured her that whatever animosity has passed between them earlier was now forgotten.
"I'm not - I was just - It…" Instead, she shrugged futilely at him and grimaced in pain as she inspected her ankle. It was twisted, or sprained, or possibly broken, and she rolled her eyes in annoyance.
Ianto hopped down the steps and clambered over the rubble towards her, arms outstretched, and ignored her protests.
"I can walk Ianto," she said, with only a touch of exasperation and hobbled sideways a little.
"And just how were you planning on moving?" He gestured to the mountains of rubble and overturned desks.
Embarrassed, she resigned to his will and allowed him to sweep her off the floor, "But only this once," she warned jokingly, as he deftly carried her back towards the sofa.
His arms were warm and tight, and the rhythm of his swaying footsteps was oddly comforting, so much so that she could imagine falling asleep right there and then. Yawning, she rested her head on his chest and let the steady thumping of his heart form a twisted lullaby as she closed her eyes.
"You sure you didn't hit your head there?" He murmured, the soft rush of his breath washing over her face as he chuckled.
"Oi…"
He playfully rocked her side to side in his arms, until she slapped him gently, "Not so hard," he feigned a hurt face, "ready to sit?"
Had they reached the sofa already? She nodded and Ianto gently placed her down, settling himself beside her.
"Y'know," she mused through another yawn, "when you get married, you'll make a great husband. You're so gentle."
He laughed, "I have my secrets."
She giggled and rested her head on his shoulder. Before, she'd been wrong to think that any source of comfort was lost, simply because Jack was gone and Rhys was clueless about it all… Because, she had Ianto, he was there.
"I never thought to ask," she whispered, "how are you coping?"
He seemed to guess her game, guess her instinctive unspoken plea for comfort, and slipped his jacket off before wrapping his arms about her shoulders reassuringly.
"I'm bearing up," he replied, "Of course, I'm…"
"Terrified?"
"Got it in one. I know there's no real reason to be afraid, but I can't help it. And then… there's a hint of anger - asking why, why was it so easy for him to go? And betrayal, I feel betrayed, because how much can I mean to him if he can leave like that? And, Gwen, I feel so very alone, deserted and abandoned and at risk, like I'm drowning and screaming but there's no way out, and there's no one to hear me. No one who understands what I'm going through."
"Hey," she forced him to meet her eyes, and realised for the first time how strangely captivating they were. She'd never heard Ianto speak so many words at one time, she'd never realised how alike they were, how similarly lost they felt. "Hey, I'm here, I understand."
He smiled wryly and hugged her tighter, as if he were holding on to the last piece of his life, as if he felt that if he let her go he'd have nothing left. As she watched his internal struggle with his emotions, her heart opened to this poor man who'd let Torchwood become his life, who'd lost his girlfriend for Torchwood, who'd given them so much, only to receive so little in return. Outside of Torchwood, what did he have? Parents, siblings, nieces and nephews that lived outside the Bay, that he saw on birthdays and Christmas… But what good was that to someone whose every day was a living nightmare, who faced aliens and monsters every day, but had no one to speak to about it? And now Jack, his one source of comfort, had thoughtlessly gallivanted off with that Doctor at the height of danger.
"Christ Ianto," it was getting harder and harder to hold the tears back, "are we really that disposable, that he just swaggers off? God, we could've died, but he's over there laughing and joking like it's some school reunion."
"He'll be back…"
She laughed at the lack of belief his words held, "Yeah, like last time. How long was he gone then? Months and months, and even when he did come back he didn't give us a proper explanation."
Ianto sighed, "We're his touchstones; his comfort from day to day. We keep him going, keep him working, give him a few more reasons to stick out eternity. We reassure him that humanity isn't as shit as he thinks, we make him good. But when the Doctor turns up - the Doctor does all of that for him. Before us, before Torchwood, the Doctor kept him good. We replaced him. Jack turned to us when the Doctor deserted him, when he had no other choice, when we were all he had left. And now the Doctor's back… He's a thousand times better for Jack than us. He understands all of that stuff Jack talks about. We're just… substitutes for what Jack really wants."
"The Doctor?"
"Exactly."
"So what do we do?" She couldn't help but feel that, hurt though he was, Ianto was out of line to accuse Jack of such things, no matter how true they seemed in the heat of the moment. Unexpectedly, her tears burst free and she shamefully buried her head in Ianto's chest, feeling the anger and disappointment bubble and roar in her stomach.
"There's nothing we can do," Ianto shrugged after handing her his handkerchief and providing the comfort that Jack should have been supplying. She was frightened, he could plainly see that, shaken after helplessly facing those Daleks, after being deserted to fend off those monsters that had caused such terror in Jack. "There's nothing… All we can do is wait, stick around long enough to pick up the Doctor's mess as always, be there for Jack if and when he comes back. Like always. We can't complain, can't face telling Jack, because this job's taken us in, it's become our lives, it's everything. We can put up with being second best."
Could they? She turned her teary eyes to stare into his face, reading the absence of hope that his words carried. Fresh tears spilled over as she cried for Ianto Jones, lonely Ianto Jones, who'd been taken in by Jack's whirlwind charisma, like her, only to be left broken and bruised in a deserted Hub. Lonely Ianto Jones who had somehow managed to become the only person in the world she completely and wholly trusted. His warm arms around her and the steady pulse of his heart promised her that, no matter how many times Jack breezed away, she'd never be left alone, unprepared or unloved.
Cute, eh? Anyway, lemmie know what'cha think... reviews are good =')
