Title: Nothing is that simple, is it? 1/?
Fandom: Torchwood
Author: Masterpuppy_x
Rating: T
Genre: Sci-Fi/Romance
Word Count: 796
Warning: Slash, Swearing, bit of blood-loss and gore throughout the fic.
Spoilers: Every Torchwood episode more or less, definitely CoE.
Summary: Nothing had seemed so inappropriate, so shocking since the bone-rattling scream of the children almost a year previously.
A/N: Yes, I'm back, bitches. I did say I needed a break from Torchwood because RTD and CoE was still burning on my mind and pissing me off immensely, and now, a year after Ianto's death, I have finally regained my full love for Torchwood. I don't like the thought of Ianto not being there for the next series, still, I look forward to the next series, which is definitely approaching! This is for you CaptainJack95, I miss you.
The hammering against the door cut through the silence more than the rain against the glass of the window. Nothing had seemed so inappropriate, so shocking since the bone-rattling scream of the children almost a year previously. Gwen hadn't been out of the house or had contact with anyone bar Rhys since Jack had left her on the hill. Left her empty, bar the baby stirring in her womb and the shatters of glass in her heart.
So who was knocking on her door? Rhys was lying beside her, snoring softly and there wasn't anyone else. It wasn't a salesman or a Jehovah's Witness because the bright red digits on her clock told her it was 2 in the morning. Rhys hadn't woken and Gwen started to doubt if the noise was even real. Perhaps her grief and loneliness was finally getting to her, mixing to create a new level of insanity.
"Rhys," She shook him, hoping he would awake, "Rhys, there's someone at the door."
"Well go answer it," He mumbled, barely awake.
"But…" She was met by the sound of snoring again. Tired, she hauled herself out of bed and stepped into a pair of slip-on shoes, shrugging on her dressing gown and taking her gun from her bedside cabinet, just in case.
With one hand on her prominent bump and the other gripping her gun tightly, she proceeded down the stairs of their newly bought house, dodging the boxes at the bottom of the stairs. She picked up the icy keys and unlocked the door.
When she opened it, she was met my strong wind and thick rain against her skin. And emptiness. Just the flickering light of the streetlamps and the silence screaming at her. Something white shone at her from the blackness of her door. A note, wilted from the heavy rain and very weak, but still readable.
Mid-day tomorrow. The Starbucks on the Plass. Be there on time!
Below it was a signature. Blurred by the rain. Unrecognizable. Shit. She darted out of the door, not even bothering to close it behind her and waddled down the street, her footsteps echoing through the emptiness.
"Hello?" She called out when she reached the end of her road. Silence had never seemed so threatening. Scared and agitated, she made her way back to her house, hoping someone would be there. No, not someone. Jack. Telling her he was back. But it would never be Jack. Now, oh now, she was scared.
Her whole body trembling, she made her way back to her bedroom and curled up in bed, hot tears sliding down her pale, ivory skin.
Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock. Time had never moved so slowly. She was sat on the couch, nursing a cup of lukewarm tea. The rhythmic sound of the grandfather clock mocking her and ringing in her ears. It was half 8 in the morning and Gwen had woken, with fear, slick with sweat from another nightmare. She'd made herself a cup of tea but was yet to take even a sip of it. The smell even disgusted her. Eating or drinking seemed like something incomprehensible. Her hands were shaking and she was surprised she hadn't spilt the milky liquid all over herself. She placed the cup down on the table and weaved her way through the assault course of boxes (neither her nor Rhys had bothered to unpack yet), to move into the kitchen.
Pinned to the fridge with a red T magnet were two photos. The first being a photo of Jack grinning at Ianto, who was wearing reindeer antlers, looking unimpressed but letting Gwen take the photo, nevertheless. The second was of the entire team; Jack, Ianto, Gwen, Tosh and Owen, all in a clutter but none of them (bar Gwen) actually smiling for the smart photo Gwen had asked for. Jack had his hand behind Ianto and from Ianto's expression was pinching his arse; however, Ianto was gazing at Jack in such an expression that could only be described as love. Owen was scowling putting his middle finger up at the camera while Tosh giggled and touched Owen's arm affectionately. Gwen was smiling brightly, but her eyes were darting over to her heroic Captain, despite herself.
Gwen couldn't help but smile at how much the latter of the two pictures summed up the relationships of Torchwood so beautifully. Without her even knowing, she raised a hand and caressed the photo of Jack and Ianto with her index finger. Then, suddenly, realizing what she was without, she collapsed against the fridge, sobbing.
By 12 o'clock, Gwen's sadness hadn't waned.
Short, I know but its only an intro. Review! Please! =D
Jess xXxXx