Ledges
Shuddering breaths emitted a soft mist amongst the chilly wind. Cheeks flushed pink against the pale of his skin as the wind whipped around him in a dangerously alluring manner, bringing him closer to the edge of the building, shoes standing out a few inches over the security of the concrete ledge as the bustle of traffic below brought him slowly and surely to his senses.
His breath caught and his body tensed visibly. For once he regarded the streets below as a slight release from this pain he'd been struck with. Pain so constant his body was on fire, and it was almost impossible to remember a time where he gave an honest smile. This throat was tight and dry and his eyes were wet, their edges rimmed in a red colour.
His fingers tightened into fists and his teeth buried themselves into his damaged lips, chest rising and falling with little conviction. This was it. He'd be with her soon, his beloved Lisa, the love of his life and the most amazing woman he'd ever met.
Stifling a sob, he choked back soft tears, stepping closer to the edge. There was nothing left for him anymore. Lisa was still alive, but just barely. How long could he force her to live with aching pain she hid behind each smile. He was a coward, and that was the truth of it.
It was his fault she was one of them now. He hadn't been there to save her, and now, he couldn't even fix her.
The tears fell freely down his cheeks and like the coward he was, he stepped off the ledge and back onto the safety of the roof to rest in his bed and sob into the pillows feeling more pathetic than before. He couldn't even end his own life.
Pathetic.
-
The next time he stood upon the ledge, he really didn't have anything to live for. Lisa was dead, murdered by his colleagues. How could he look them in the face without feeling the aching hatred within himself.
His body shook with the effect of the cold and the bottle of wine he'd swallowed down a couple of minutes before hand as the street swirled beneath him, the lights melting into one another and creating an aimless pattern. His shoes were further over the ledge than they'd ever been, so that if one small gust of wind gave him the slightest of pushes, it would be over for him.
Life had become a repetitive line of events. Wake up. Go to work. Make coffee. Go home. Cry himself to sleep. The image of Lisa haunted him where ever he went. He'd failed to save her, and he'd even held a gun to her. The fact he couldn't shoot wasn't an excuse. He'd threatened the one he loved, and now he had no one left, nothing but that last image of fear in her eyes. Nothing but the stench of blood as he cleaned up the mess that had been left behind, acting as if it didn't bother him, when inside he was breaking.
Again, he stepped down. He'd never be strong enough. Never.
-
"What's this?"
Ianto glanced up from his paperwork, surprised to find Jack had visited the office area at the top. Standing himself up, Ianto gave his Captain a questioning glance, "What's what, Sir?" He questioned in a calm and polite tone, watching the elder man walk around he desk and lean over his computer for a moment, typing into the keyboard vigorously for a moment before swinging the screen around to greet Ianto.
The image on the screen was something he hadn't expected. CCTV footage of his nighttime escapades. His body swaying dangerously over the edge of the building.
"I believe it was stated that what I did in my own time was none of your business, Sir," Ianto spoke after a moment, "Now if you don't mind-" "What would make you think this was an escape?" Jack demanded, Ianto finding his wrist captured in an unbreakable grasp and those burning eyes staring into his own causing his breath to hitch in his throat.
"Like you care," Ianto responded in a shaking voice, "You don't know what it's like to lose everything you ever knew. Canary Warf, I lost my friends, and I lost the humanity of my girlfriend. And you and your team finished the job," He spoke shakily, "I have nothing, Jack. Except for this job which is the reminder of all that I don't have," He finished, his eyes diverted to the ground.
The hand at his wrist loosened then disappeared before a pair of arms seized him and drew him into the warmth of his Captain. He struggled for a moment, this was the murderer of his beloved Lisa, "I was going to marry her, Jack," He spoke, his tone one of bitter resentment before his struggling ceased and his face buried itself amongst the nape of Jack's neck, his hands grasping the front of Jack's shirt for support as soft tears found his eyes.
"I know," Jack whispered in understanding, brushing his fingers through the Welsh male's hair in a careful and gentle manner as if he might suddenly shatter.
-
The last time he stood there was New Years Eve. This time he wasn't alone. Jack stood beside him, an arm around his waist, not wanting to risk the others life.
"I love you, Lisa," Ianto whispered, "But I have to move on. I can't live like this," He whispered, "I have to let you go," He spoke softly, holding out his hand and releasing the petals of a red rose, like the one he'd given to her almost every day when they'd worked together. When things had been alright.
The arm at his waist tightened it's hold, and a pair of lips found his own as Jack brought him near, his eyes falling shut as the fireworks blazed in the above skies, lighting themselves among the petals which the wind carried so delicately.
Lisa would have wanted him to be happy, he knew this. He couldn't skulk around and wallow in self pity forever. His hand grasped Jack's and he stepped down from the ledge, convinced he'd never be there again, so long as he had his job, his friends, Jack.