Ianto sat at his desk outside the concealed entrance to the base. His head rested on his arms, his were eyes closed to stop tears escaping. Grief was supposed to pass, wasn't it? You were supposed to be devastated for a time, but then the pain would begin to fade. Yet whenever he thought of Lisa, he felt like someone had stabbed him in the stomach with a red-hot knife. It felt as though someone had taken the handle, with the blade still in his stomach, and twisted. Every time something reminded him of Lisa, the knife would be twisted a little more.
His guilt-themed reverie was interrupted by Jack coming through the door behind him. He sat up hurriedly, not wanting Jack to know how upset he was. He attempted to regain his composure in the space of half a second, but to no avail. Jack noticed immediately that there was a problem.
"What's the matter Ianto?" he asked,
"I'm perfectly fine," was his answer. Ianto saw immediately that Jack didn't believe him, but this was none of his business.
"Ianto-" Jack began. Ianto interrupted him,
"I'm fine. Now if it's alright with you, I'm going home." He started to gather the few possessions that were placed neatly on his desk. Jack forced him to stop by grabbing his wrist.
"You aren't fine. Now tell me what the problem is," he demanded,
"I would have thought that it was obvious. But either way, it's none of your business,"
"It is my business if you're gonna mope and stop us from working as a team!" Jack didn't yell. He almost never yelled. He voice just took on extra intensity while staying at the same volume. It was actually a lot scarier than yelling, but Ianto was unfazed.
"I'm not moping. I'm grieving," he said, hoping that would get the point across while avoiding the need for details.
"Oh." Was all Jack was able to say,
"Indeed. Now if you will excuse me…" He tried to walk out from behind his desk, but Jack was blocking his path.
"Tell me what the problem is," he demanded
"Why? It's not as if you care about me. None of you do. I'm just the bloke who deals with the paperwork." Ianto was surprised to see that Jack looked genuinely hurt by his comment,
"You think we don't care?" he asked, his voice suddenly soft and gentle,
"I know you don't," was Ianto's reply.
"Yes, we do. We care, Ianto. I care." Ianto couldn't bring himself to believe it,
"Jack, if you all care about me so much, why do you keep shutting me out?" he asked, genuinely curious,
"We didn't notice that we were. And after the thing with..." he trailed off. Ianto knew that it was because he didn't want to upset him more,
"Lisa?" Ianto asked,
"Yes. After that, we tried to include you more, we really did. I thought you would notice,"
"Well… I did notice somewhat, but including me isn't the same as caring about me,"
"I know, but we're not exactly a touchy-feely kind of bunch are we?" Ianto had to concede that Jack had a point. They weren't the kind of people who sat around talking about their feelings. They got on with what needed to be done.
"Alright. You have a point there,"
"Now will you tell me what the problem is?" Jack asked gently,
"It just hurts so much," Ianto replied, "Grief is meant to fade with time, isn't it? I mean, it never truly leaves you, but it will get easier, won't it?" Ianto couldn't quite read the look on Jack's face,
"It does get easier, eventually, but it won't ever leave you. You'll always have to carry that guilt." Jack looked almost unbearably sad. As though, just for a moment, the weight of the world was on his shoulders.
"Whenever I think about Lisa, even for a second, if feels like someone is twisting a knife in my stomach," he said, answering Jack's original question, "It's not going to be like that forever is it?"
"No. Eventually it won't hurt to think of her, but you're always going to feel guilty. There will always be a voice in the back of your head saying 'what if?'" Jack replied. Ianto was amazed at Jack's perspective on the subject. That added another layer mystery to the man. He looked to be in his early forties, yet he offered the wisdom of someone hundreds of years old.
"How do I make it stop hurting?" Ianto hadn't felt this vulnerable in years,
"You can't," was Jack's answer, "But you can make it hurt less,"
"How?" Ianto didn't quite register what was happening until he felt Jack's lips against his own. He pulled away, shocked,
"Jack, I can't…" he stammered, sounding unsure for once, "Lisa wouldn't…"
"Lisa would want you to be happy," Jack said gently, "She would want you to move on,"
"How can you be sure?"
"Because I know a thing or two about losing people," Jack replied, "And I know that if someone loved me, and they lost me, I would want them to move on and be happy." Again, Ianto was struck by Jack's perspective and wisdom. The man really was a mystery. A mystery that he wanted solve. Ianto leaned forward to press his own lips against Jack's. Jack returned the kiss enthusiastically. Ianto felt Jack's tongue on his bottom lip, and opened his mouth quickly. He gasped at the feel of Jack's tongue in his mouth. Ianto reluctantly pulled away for air.
"Well, that was…" he trailed off,
"I know," Jack replied, "Do you see what I mean?"
"Yes," said Ianto,
"I'm glad." Ianto leaned forward to kiss Jack again, because he deserved this little scrap of happiness. He placed a hand on the back of Jack's neck, pulling him closer. He sighed as Jack's arms wound themselves around his waist. Ianto slid his free arm around Jack. The kiss was rough and passionate, almost desperate. But it felt good. Because just for a little while, Ianto could forget. He could forget about the pain and the loss. Here, in Jack's arms, he could be happy.
Author's Note: Thanks for reading! I would really appreciate it if you left a review.