Torchwood fan fiction 2:
Built to Last.
"You're getting married?"
"Yes… Rhys asked, while you were away."
"… And you said yes?"
"Well no one else will have me."
Jack played the words over and over in his head as he drew vehemently on the lined paper on his desk that was supposed to be a report. Since Tosh and Owen's deaths, he'd had a lot of time to think. Time in which he'd replayed those words a thousand times or more. Time in which he'd become almost a burden to the remainder of the team, time in which Gwen, ever resourceful and compassionate, had taken up the reigns once again.
Jack stabbed the pen viciously into the paper, making a gaping hole. Of course he blamed himself for Tosh and Owen's deaths… who else was there to blame? And since that day a month ago he'd lost sight of the most important thing in his life: his team. He'd become moody and listless, he'd sat at the desk for hours on end without doing anything, he'd left Gwen and Ianto to deal with the alien-hunting they'd tackled before as a group of five… he'd left them in danger. And throughout all of this he expected Gwen to deal with the aftermath.
Ianto approached him from behind with a cup of coffee that he placed carefully on the desk. "Y'know, you can tell a lot about a person from what they doodle," he eyed Jack's piece of paper critically.
Jack, hardly amused, moved the paper so that Ianto could see. Ianto's eyes widened upon seeing the black zig-zags on the page.
"Happy now?" Jack sighed, "anything else you're supposed to check on? Anything else Gwen wants you to get out of me?"
Ianto jumped, "how did you…" He began, but froze and shook his head.
"Never mind," Jack said, "but you tell Gwen that if she wants something: get it herself." He hated himself for being so bitter towards the two of them. Ianto looked offended and hurried out of the office where Jack knew without looking that he had gone instantly to Gwen.
He didn't deserve the two of them. Neither one could bear to look him directly in the eye, both were afraid of the snappy and angry thing he'd become. Yet still… they still trusted him, wanted him to lead them even if they couldn't bear to say it.
The sound of the office door opening sliced through his thoughts, bringing him back to the here and now in which the only people he cared about were scared of him. He looked up from the desk, prepared for another onslaught from Gwen or Ianto acting on Gwen's behalf. Instead he found Gwen looking down at him, pity and sadness on her face. The same depth of compassion that had won her a place in Torchwood… and Jack's heart.
"Yes?" He sighed, forcing his voice to be as soft as he could.
She did not reply, did not attempt to mask the display of tenderness that was in her wide eyes.
"Gwen?"
"Have you forgotten about Torchwood Jack? Do you just… not care any more?"
"What?" He spluttered, unsure how to answer.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" She shouted, "why have you left us again?"
He stood up and moved around the desk so that he was standing only a foot away from her. The pain and desperation in her eyes forced him to see that, no matter what he felt inside, he could not expect Gwen and Ianto to stay strong whilst he fell apart. "I haven't left you," he shook his head.
"No? Then why does it feel like you have? Where were you yesterday when we had to track down that Vespian intruder in Newport? Or the other week when we had that Black Winged Turtle? Hey? Or the week before - where were you Jack?!"
He hated himself for being the cause of such anger in her, despised himself. "I was… I…" But he could not bring himself to answer. The truth was he wasn't really sure where he had been: he didn't remember the events Gwen was talking about because he hadn't been paying attention when she'd told him. Or when Ianto had. Or when they'd both called him on the Hub telephone asking for his assistance. He'd been completely out of touch with Torchwood for the past month. Even when, three weeks ago, Gwen and Ianto had headed out alone to capture a rogue Weevil. It was a routine procedure, one they had handled for years in groups of two. But three weeks ago Gwen and Ianto had been working on every single alien, monster, ghost, missing person and rogue time-traveller the team encountered: they no longer had the support of three other fully-functioning team-mates. They were tired. Dispirited. Gwen's hands had slipped on the stun gun which she dropped, Ianto had turned back to help her, the Weevil had launched forwards and locked its great jaws on Ianto's arm that had been flung out to push Gwen to safety. By the time Gwen had finally stunned and captured the Weevil, Ianto was bleeding heavily. She'd called Jack but of course… he'd been out of touch.
He sighed, shook his head to rid it of useless thoughts and massaged his temples with his hands. "Alright, I get it. I'm sorry Gwen. Sorry."
"You're sorry? And I suppose you think that's enough to fix everything?"
"No…" He dropped his hands and met her eyes hopefully, playfully, "yes?"
At last she smiled and unlocked her hands from her hips.
"I'm sorry for being such a total waste to the team. I'm sorry for not being there when you and Ianto needed me. Sorry for leaving you to pick up the slack - again." He needed to make her understand, he needed her support, and Ianto's, if he was ever going to take control again. "It won't happen again. Brownie promise." He held up three fingers in a salute.
"When were you in the Brownies?"
"Long story. Odd story." He grinned fondly. She did not return the grin, but her features softened again and she shrugged hopelessly at him.
"Whatever," she sighed, "you know we'll go on trusting you, and I doubt I could ever convince Ianto to go for mutiny."
"Don't you dare," he waggled a playful finger at her, eyeing her in mock suspicion. "So now that this dysfunctional family has undergone an oath of loyalty, how 'bout we get down to some real work?" The truth was, he was ready for it, even if there were only three of them. Torchwood would go on, without Owen, without Tosh. "What've we got?" He asked Gwen now, and was pleased to see her expression brighten. She hurried from his office, Jack tailing behind, and stopped at the main computer, hefting the keyboard into her arms and typing rapidly.
"Rift activity," she said, "short and sweet but it was one powerful surge. Ianto!" He appeared between Gwen and Jack as if he'd been waiting nearby and Jack knew, through pure instinctive knowledge of his team, that Ianto had pretty much followed Gwen's orders in this way for the past month. Always nearby, always waiting, always willing to help. And all the while with a leader who didn't care, didn't even notice how tired the both of them were looking.
Gwen had dark circles under her eyes, her eyes that were bloodshot and half closed. Her hair was straggling and hadn't seen a comb for a good few days. She was also wearing the same outfit that she'd worn yesterday, and the day before, because with the workload that the two of them had tackled alone, she'd barely had time to drink coffee never mind get home to change.
The same went for Ianto, except he seemed a little better off. His suit was grey and he'd not had time to iron it before he'd hurried into it that morning: Gwen had been calling incessantly about the up rise in rift activity.
Jack placed a hand on each of their shoulders and felt both of them tense. It hurt him, literally pained him in his heart, to feel them both shirk away from his hand. Ianto had not yet looked his way, had not acknowledged his 'return'. Was this how it was going to be now?
And Gwen? She had soldiered on, as ever, but something in her tone of voice, her actions, told Jack that something wasn't quite right with her.
"Ianto," she said now, turning to face him and dislodging Jack's hand in the same movement. Jack's heart sank another mile when Ianto did the same. "Ianto, did you manage to track down that rogue Weevil we were trailing last week?"
"Sure did," he replied, "it'd managed to high-tail it all the way to Newport."
"Newport?" She raised her eyebrows, "wow, they're getting brainy on us. Did you pull it in?"
"Eventually, reckon a couple of civilians might've seen me though. I think I managed to pass it off as my diseased cousin but…" He let the sentence hang ominously.
Jack sighed inwardly. This never would've happened on his watch, a Weevil would never have made it to Newport. Not that he was blaming Gwen but… he should've been there.
"Riiiight," Gwen frowned, "at least we got it in. That's better than nothing. About that rift activity," she gestured to the computer screen, where a blue dot was blinking repeatedly. "It's in the bay area, I don't reckon it's more than a couple of Weevils at the least… at the most - I don't know. Anyhow we can tackle it tomorrow."
"Permission to leave ship and return ashore, skipper?" Ianto gave Gwen a cock-eyed smile. Now he was calling her 'skipper'? Jack frowned and awaited her answer.
Apparently she was in a playful mood after Jack's 'return'. "Permission granted, shipmate." The two saluted each other before Ianto gave Jack a funny little nod that Jack guessed was supposed to be a 'goodbye'. Then Ianto was gone, through the cog door to activates unknown.
Only Gwen remained, resetting the keyboard on the desk and crossing around the room in search of coffee.
"You should take some time off," Jack announced.
"Yeah right," she scoffed, abandoning the search and collapsing on the sofa. "Leaving you - you're hardly in the running for 'Boss-of-the-year' awards. And Ianto - who'd grind to a halt if he didn't have someone's orders to follow. Yeah right."
He was surprised that his bitterness had affected Gwen in this way. He'd expected the hostility, Ianto's coldness, both of them grouping together. But never, not once, had he expected Gwen to become as bitter and angry as he had.
"Know what we need?" He perked up, sitting beside her. He took it as a good sign that she did not leap up again.
"No," she shook her head, "no way. No bloody team-building exercises, no trips to the countryside, no little excursions or anything like that."
"Relax," he laughed, "too suspicious Gwen Cooper. No - I was talking about Martha."
"Martha? As in Martha Jones? As in works-for-UNIT Martha?"
"Yes, who else would I be talking about?"
She ignored this and Jack could tell she was pondering Martha. "Yeah, alright. You have her number?"
"'Course." Though he'd have to check.
"Isn't she getting married?"
"Yeah, soon. No!" He gasped and laughed to see the look of delight in Gwen's face, that look he hadn't seen since her own wedding before it'd gone terribly wrong. "No way Gwen, I'm not inviting her down here so you two girls can go all misty eyed over her wedding."
"Why not?" But she was laughing. And that felt good. To be laughing again, at ease, comfortable with his team. Well - half his team. Well - one team member. But it was a start.
"I'll call her tomorrow morning," he said as he stood up, "we could even hold off on the Weevils until she gets here."
"Sure, lovely arriving present for her," Gwen stood beside him, "but no, I think Ianto's pretty keen to get them out of the way as soon as possible." I think Ianto's pretty keen to get out of my way, Jack thought but said nothing. "I'm really glad you're… back." Gwen's brow crumpled and she hugged him awkwardly.
"You're getting married?"
"Yes… Rhys asked, while you were away."
"… And you said yes?"
"Well no one else will have me."
The words came back again, biting angrily at him as he held her against his chest, her heart beating life out into him. A different kind of life to the one he already possessed. His was eternal, lonely and absolute. Gwen's was faltering, compassionate, uncertain and warm. In fact, so warm as he held her to him that he might've fallen asleep.
If Gwen's phone hadn't gone off. If she hadn't pulled away from him and answered the call. If her face hadn't lit up when she'd heard that voice.
"Hey," she grinned, "no I'm just finishing up now… I don't care - get a curry or something… I'll be there in a minute… love you too… bye."
"I'm guessing that wasn't your dentist," Jack said dryly.
"No - Rhys. I've got to go, I'll see you tomorrow. Don't forget to call Martha."
"Right-o skipper."
She stuck her tongue out at him, grabbed her bag and jacket from one of the desks and hurried out of the door.
Leaving Jack. With his shadows of memories of Tosh and Owen, of an Ianto that smiled happily, that returned his words, of a Gwen that wasn't responsible for the team's wellbeing, that was innocent and perky and that hugged him enthusiastically not awkwardly.
But it was a start.