Authors note: Please let me know what you think about this fiction; I appreciate any improvement suggestion, constructive criticism and so on ^_^
Rating: T for all of the weird complicated emotions X]
Silence and Comfort
"Even in evil, that dark cloud which hangs over the creation, we discern rays of light and hope, and gradually come to see in suffering and temptation proofs and instruments of the sublimest purposes of wisdom and love." William Ellery Channing
It wasn't as if someone had been badly hurt. Well, none of the team at least, Jack thought reassured, when he dragged himself up the stairs. In his right arm he held a pale-looking Ianto, who swayed next to him half dazed. Jack's hand had gotten lost upon Ianto's hip, slipped under the shirt of the young Welshman, as he helped him climbing up the stairs. Both spoke not a word as they were lost in their thoughts of horror and dread.
Jack remembered the last night and the early morning of the dawning day – this day. He had saved his team from the murderous cannibals of the Brecon Beacons just in time – therefore he had destroyed the front wall of a house with a tractor and wounded or shot all those assailants present. Although their deeds had affected him uncomfortably, what really stuck in his mind was Ianto's sight. Ianto, who sat with bruises on his forehead and cracked lips in the back seat of the SUV, staring wide-eyed into the distance, while Jack drove all of them back to the hub. Again and again he glanced nervously into the rearview mirror, to be able to see Ianto.
With a grunt Ianto pressed his palm against his aching costal arch. The mad ugly cannibal had kicked him repeatedly in the torso, but besides a few bruises and contusions there was probably nothing serious damage done. Ianto bit his throbbing lower lip thoughtfully. The young man knew that his job could become dangerous (after all he had survived the Battle of Canary Wharf), but never before had he felt so helpless and left alone in such a risky situation.
Somehow he had always thought that as long as Jack was near there would be nothing happening to him. Or Toshiko would invent something clever to save them, or Owen would be there to stitch him together again, or Gwen would simply charm the pants off somebody or hit someone in the face. But nothing of that sort had occurred. This time it had been his job to find a solution. He had provided an escape path for Toshiko; and he had been afraid how the situation would end; mortally afraid. No one had been there during the long hours in the slaughterhouse, except for the poor boy they wanted to kill as well. The endless minutes had traumatized Ianto- only now he seemed to fully realize in what danger he placed himself every day.
"Here we are", Jack gasped, as he unlocked Ianto's apartment door and let go of him. To visit Ianto's apartment wasn't unusual for Jack anymore. After the incident with the half-Cyberman Lisa he had begun to care for Ianto, to look after his well-being. Time and again he had come from the hub to see him in the evening, while he was still suspended from work, in order to converse with him.
He was the one who had been there when Ianto's mourning ate him up, when he needed someone to talk to, someone who would understand him. Ianto had been surprised at how empathetic Jack could be in their endless conversations. The gentle, understanding look in his eyes, when Ianto talked about how lonely he felt, how much Lisa's death had hurt him, how he began to doubt his abilities because of it. Before Ianto could stop himself, he had already communicated much of his innermost thoughts and feelings to Jack. Somehow it was so hard to hide his emotions from Jack... Ianto had the inkling of feeling at home with Jack, that he had found a companion who gave him assistance in his darkest hour; who gave comfort with his friendly, gracious way.
In quick succession they entered Ianto's flat, and immediately the smell of coffee beans welcomed them. Jack had to smile – he would always connect this smell with Ianto. He turned to the younger to see if he needed his help. With a strained face Ianto closed the door, still holding his bruised ribs. The smile instantly disappeared from Captain Jack Harkness' lips. Concern came to his bright blue pupils.
With a few quick steps Jack was right beside him, holding his shoulder reassuringly.
Ianto opened his eyes and gave him an uneasy smile.
"You're all right? Owen has checked you, right?", Jack asked worriedly, whereupon Ianto just nodded and went adrift to go into his bedroom.
"I'm fine. Only a few bruises, contusions and mild headaches. Could have been worse", Ianto said casually. He didn't want to reveal to himself and Jack that he was still traumatized and scared to the core. Jack followed him with a sceptical look on his face. He observed the young Welshman with doubting glances, when he slowly removed his blood-smeared dirty clothes. He looked anything but happy or fit – the horror was still visible in his features, let alone all the bruises and red abrasions.
"Jack", Ianto said dryly, when he threw his shirt into the laundry basket, beginning to unbutton his trousers. Slightly embarrassed Jack awoke from his rigidity – how long had he been standing in the doorway, watching Ianto undress?
"I know that you do not mind if someone undresses in front of you, but you're making me nervous."
A broad, mischievous grin appeared on Jack's lips.
"Got it. Can I do anything for you? Cook you something? Or maybe a coffee?", the Captain suggested, unable to rein his verbiage. Ianto, half dressed, made him nervous too. Secretly he never got tired of looking at Ianto's perfect body.
"A coffee would be nice... I need a shower, if you don't mind", Ianto muttered. He quickly dug a pair of shorts and a white muscle shirt out of his chest. Flabbergasted Jack saw Ianto squeezing past him, with nothing but shorts darting into the bathroom. Ianto had to smile – the first genuine smile since the incident with the cannibals. Jack's dreamy, glassy eyes, that small smile playing upon his lips... he looked adorable.
"Jack? You're okay?", Ianto smirked and raised one eyebrow when Jack looked at him startled.
"Yes, yeah, all right", the Captain answered, confused about his daydreaming. Ianto closed the bathroom door when Jack took off his coat and walked into the kitchen.
The young Welshman hopped into the shower and let the hot water wash away all the dirt. He soaped himself again and again, thinking he couldn't get rid of the stench of dead flesh and dried blood. Before his eyes he saw perpetually the murderous couple, the body parts of the corpses in the refrigerator; again he felt the icy butcher knife against his throat before he was finally rescued by Jack. Ianto's whole body shivered when he got out of the shower and towelled himself. On wobbly legs he put on his clean shorts and his white wifebeater.
For several minutes he regarded his reflection in the mirror, trying to read the strange expression of his dilated pupils. He looked different, anxious, older, scared.
"Calm down", he said to himself in thought. "You're safe now, you're home. Nothing can happen to you here." Over and over he repeated this mantra until his heart started to beat less rapidly. He still heard the shrill laughter of the female cannibal echoing in his ears, when Jack called him and awoke him from his horrified and frightened thoughts.
With a brooding face the young man shut the bathroom door and shuffled along the corridor to join Jack in the kitchen. He was highly concentrated pouring two cups of coffee, what made Ianto smile. Thankfully he received the mug with the steaming broth, giving the immortal a small nod.
"Black as night, the way you like it", Jack muttered, as he helped himself with sugar and coffee cream - by now he knew Ianto's kitchen quite well. Silently the younger sipped his coffee and watched Jack, how a small smile played upon his lips, how his eyes showed a vivid light that made them shine brightly.
. . .
A few moments later they were half sitting, half lying on Ianto's cosy sofa, drinking their coffee and watching some random TV program. Ianto noticed that he felt sleepy in spite of the caffeine. He didn't bring up the fact that Jack had probably decided to spend the evening with him – he felt at ease in his company and really had no desire to be left alone with his fears and memories. Jack was distracting him, gave him warmth and comfort with his protective presence.
Still Ianto couldn't help feeling restless again, tossing and turning, trying to find a comfortable way of sitting or lying. His ribs ached, his heart began to race again in full swing; cold sweat suddenly stood on his forehead. A nervous twitch made his fingers tremble. Jack saw it and sent Ianto knowing glances. Finally, he put his empty cup on the coffee table and moved closer to the young, troubled Welsh. He gently put his arm around Ianto's rigid, could shoulder and looked into his serious face.
Wearily Ianto closed his tired lids, enjoying the feel of Jack's body heat spreading over his back. He felt the Captain approaching towards him, his hand slid down to his waist and drew him nearer. A gentle kiss upon his cheek made Ianto flush. With eyes closed he felt Jack's fingers sifting through his short brown hair again and again – tender little gestures that brought the younger back to his haven, away from the constricting panic in his airways.
"I'm sorry, Ianto", Jack whispered softly into his ear, whereupon the younger felt goose bumps walking along his arms. Heat rose in him, his mouth became dry, he felt suddenly terribly warm. He deeply inhaled Jack's intoxicating pheromones; a tsunami of emotions swirled through his abdomen. Jack's nearness did him good, it was bringing healing and shelter at the same time.
"I should have checked on you earlier, I've let you and Toshiko down. If I had come only a minute later", the Captain said determinedly, but Ianto interrupted him by opening his eyes abruptly, staring at Jack horrified.
"Let's drop it. I can't get all these imaged out of my head anyway, and... when you talk about it, I remember it all too clearly", he gasped, wiping the cold sweat from his brow. A seriously worried look appeared in Jack's eyes, his forehead showed small worry lines. Tears welled up in Ianto's widened blue eyes, a bitter expression took hold of his face. With a grim mien, he kneaded his sweaty hands together and looked into a fictional distance.
"You won't always be there to save me, Jack", he muttered suddenly, quite calm and collected. Surprised Jack listened to Ianto's earnest words; he hadn't thought that this was what was going on in the young Welshman.
"And I won't always find a way out... so what am I waiting for?" Confusion and despair could be read in Ianto's face when he considered Jack hauntingly; almost pleadingly he observed the slightly parted lips of the immortal, inhaled his scent deeply. A hint of vulnerability showed up on Jack's features when Ianto slowly moved closer and put his hands upon Jack's cheeks. Their mouths were almost touching, they could feel the hot breath of the other against their lips. Ianto had the sense that Jack's tantalizing proximity made him melt in a pool of affection and disturbing love. A seething pulsation boomed through his abdomen, he felt his strong throbbing heartbeat in his throat.
"What am I waiting for, if I'll die soon anyway, Jack", Ianto whispered tenderly, and a sad smile crept to his lips. These words cut deeply into Jack's heart, he wanted to scream at Ianto out of sheer compassion and love, and against all reason, that he would save him, that he would always be there for him; but before he could utter a word, Ianto had pressed his lips gently upon Jack's, kissing him slowly and passionately. His slender fingers gently stroked through Jack's hair, pulled him closer to intensify their kiss.
Jack's heart cried out with joy; it was electrifying, exciting, breathtaking, to feel Ianto's kisses and caresses. He perceived his wonderful fragrance, his body heat, the fine skin of his fingertips upon his temples. Actually he wanted to be there tonight for Ianto, but right now he had the feeling that Ianto was saving him, giving his life a sense, helping him carrying on. Jack looked at Ianto surprised when they finally parted. Infinite yearning glimmered through Ianto's gazes; he breathed heavily when he stroked Jack's cheek lovingly.
"... but you're here now. You can save me now", the young Welshman said softly as he let himself fall backwards onto the couch, looking up at Jack expectantly. The Captain felt his tremulous heart beating excitedly, a tremor ran through his body. Words couldn't nearly express all the emotions that were sweeping over him. Seconds passed in which both looked at each other and smiled, breathlessly drowning in the eyes of the other. Finally, Jack leaned over and kissed Ianto demandingly into the pillows. Ianto put his arms around Jack's back and enjoyed the feel of the body upon his own. A smile lingered on his lips, as Jack began to kiss his neck; tears of joy ran down his face unseen, as he inwardly thanked Jack repeatedly for being alive, saved by him.
. . .
Hours later, Jack was still awake; Ianto lay sleeping next to him, naked, but wrapped in warm blankets. His exhaustion was still visible, but at the same time Jack knew he had calmed the Welsh, had given him peace and consolation. An affectionate smile appeared on Jack's lips when he remembered the last hours. Love he had given, and received love in return. It had been more than physical pleasures; a burning desire for the other they had to satisfy. Ponderingly Jack watched Ianto's pale face in the moonlight. Only when the first rays of sunlight crept over the horizon, he could turn away from Ianto and find a snatch of sleep.