Make It Through Another Day

Make It Through Another Day

The Great Mortality

Ianto Jones sighed. It was the end of a quiet day and really that was nothing to be sighing about. However it was a sigh of deep contentment, which was rare enough in itself, so he allowed himself a private moment of self-indulgent satisfied sighing. Ianto had finally gotten through the cataloguing of the contents of basement room 'G3'. Everything was neatly and appropriately packaged with each container correctly labelled and the door to the room displaying a comprehensive list of the contents of said room with the reference numbers attached so that everything inside could be matched to the electronic and hardcopy database residing in 'B4'. It had marked the completion of three months work. There were still twenty odd rooms to go in the lower levels of the complex, but Ianto would not have minded if there were another hundred. OK, so the archiving of Torchwood Three was proving to be a much larger task than he'd expected, made much more so by the relocation of everything that had been salvaged from Canary Wharf. Truth was, the archives were Ianto's baby. They enabled him to learn about the vast wonders of the universe from the safety of the Torchwood cellars. He probably knew more about Torchwood than even Jack did. He took a certain amount of pride in that and in the fact that his colleagues often relied on that knowledge.

Of course he had the added advantage of almost Total Recall, though in retrospect there was nothing advantageous about being able to graphically remember how your friends and loved ones had died. Selective memory was a beautiful thing when you could get it.

Either way the archives had become a sanctuary, especially recently. They gave him a sense of order, not just the physical of putting things in their correct place, but the emotional connection he felt with all the history and knowledge locked up there. It gave him a centre, a feeling of knowing he was exactly where he was meant to be and he trusted it with all his being. There were never any doubts when he came to these rooms, because they were his purpose not only within Torchwood but his very existence. He hoped, a little pridefully, that in centuries to come his counterparts would thank him for laying down the foundations of the most comprehensive collection of Alien artefacts on Earth, treating them with the respect they deserved.

It amused him to think that he was one of the most knowledgeable people on the planet regarding such matters. With Jack's assistance he had learnt three non terrestrial languages and had spent many hours writing down Jack's accounts of what was 'out there' from the Daleks to a planet of ice oceans where the waves arched over ones head in frozen curves. It was all a wonder to Ianto and something to be marvelled at. Something right now he so desperately needed to fall back on to stop himself from caving in.

What pleased Ianto the most was the fact that Jack had given him full autonomy over the entire archive. No one interfered with it and only he and Jack had full access. Jack only came down there on sufferance or when he needed to find Ianto for a bit of entertainment. Otherwise Jack allowed Ianto total control. It was best that way because it meant things never got lost or went missing as they had done in the days before Suzie's first death. Ianto would bring things up for Owen and Tosh to study, especially the older things that had not been subjected to modern day scanning equipment or more importantly their insatiably curious minds. It had meant that Ianto had gotten to know his colleagues better, that they'd become his friends. Gwen, he never trusted, loved yes, but she was too fond of pressing buttons.

Owen and Tosh were now gone, part of the archive themselves and Ianto wasn't sure enough about Martha or the part time helper 'Mickey Mouse' as Jack called him, to ask them to help (though he had to admit that the name 'Captain Cheesecake' suited Jack very well).

Since the demise of his colleagues Ianto had found himself retreating a bit into 'Ianto's world' and primarily restricting his communication with the outside world to Jack. Gwen had become overwhelmingly emotional since Owen and Tosh had died and insisted on dishing out hugs and cuddles on too regular a basis. Only Jack was entitled to hold him as far as Ianto was concerned. Not that he minded Gwen caring, it was wonderful that she did, but Ianto at best was not a 'touchy feely' person, something Jack often got frustrated at.

Strangely, Ianto was still smiling as he made his way up the damp steps to main part of the Hub, still deeply immersed in his contemplations. He was surprised to find the area in darkness. He glanced at his watch. Oh, another night was escaping him it was 01:30hrs. He glanced up at Jack's office, the only light still on. Ianto was half wondering about going home when the door to Jack's office opened and the Captain emerged and leaned against the doorframe. His braces were hanging down over his hips the button down gone in favour of a white T-shirt, Jack's version of 'I'm not at work' clothes. He had a decidedly frustrated look on his handsome face.

"Yan, do you know what time it is?"

"I do now. Sorry got caught up in the moment." Ianto offered his usual shy smile.

"Filing?"

"Well you know how it is with my fetish for metal cupboards and draws. Coffee?"

Jack nodded. "Yep. You staying here tonight?"

Ianto hesitated. "No. I should go home, I haven't been there all week."

"Ok, then flag the coffee, we'll shut shop and I'll come with you."

Ianto's smile broadened just a little, he always felt quietly assured when Jack decided to spend time with him at home. That had been happening a lot more recently. Ianto went and fetched his coat and pulled it on. He waited for Jack by the roller door, reflecting on his relationship with that strange man. Ianto had tried so hard to get to know him, to understand who he was. Jack had become the crux of Ianto's life. Jack defined him as much as Torchwood did. It was a sad reflection on himself really, that his world had become so empty of anything else. In some weird way though it all made sense to Ianto and he had accepted months ago that that was just how the rest of his life was going to be. He wasn't certain how happy he was about it, but there was nothing he would do to change it.

Ianto's only over riding fear was of Jack becoming bored with him and moving on to some one younger and prettier than he. The older Ianto became the more likely that was to happen. Ianto planned on dying young and with Torchwood's track record he was unlikely to be disappointed.

Having donned a clean shirt and his ever-faithful coat Jack came bounding down the stairs and grabbed Ianto's hand.

"Home Jones. I haven't been near you all day, so there's lots to make up for."

Ianto shook his head in amusement.

It was a short walk from the Hub to Ianto's flat. It always felt a bit odd going there because most of the time Ianto stayed at the Hub, either in Jack's bunk or dozing on the couch. He and Jack had not had a night apart since the whole nastiness with Grey. Mostly because initially Ianto had been too afraid to leave Jack alone with his demons; even now three months and a Dalek invasion later Jack was still having night terrors about being buried alive. When the older man was awake and alone with Ianto he slumped into moments of overwhelming despair over the loss of Owen and Tosh. Ianto did his best to help whether it meant being yelled at, subjected to tears or violent sex and sometimes just explosive violence. One of Jack's punches had fractured his cheekbone a few weeks back. Ianto took it all quietly and stoically because he knew that Jack had to work through his emotional turmoil. Ianto understood it was a fine line between immortality and humanity. Ianto took it all on because he had to, because he loved Jack so much he'd have done anything to relieve the man's suffering regardless of the cost to himself. Jack knew, was in fact wholly aware of how hard he had been on Ianto and he thanked him for everyday; though he never admitted to loving the young man that allowed him to maintain his fragile grasp on his sanity.

Ianto was sure that Jack loved him. There were many signs, their private little smiles and touches. The fact that when they did go on dates it was always Jack who took care of everything and made sure that Ianto had a wonderful time. The two of them had become comfortable with one another and most importantly they trusted each other. For Ianto the best thing had been figuring out that over the last six months Jack only ever came to him for comfort, for sex or for companionship. Sometimes they would just sit together on a random roof, watching the world in silence. Other times the whole night would be spent fucking their hearts out.

It was two am before they reached Ianto's little flat. Ianto wandered through to the kitchen to make coffee and on inspecting his bare fridge he realised that he'd been supposed to go to Tesco on the way home and had forgotten.

"No coffee, I'm afraid. I'll just go to the supermarket…"

Jack however had other ideas.

"Yan we can do it in the morning. You've been drinking way too much of it lately anyway. Shower and bed, that's an order!" He said guiding Ianto out of the kitchen and pulling at his coat.

Ianto opened his mouth to protest but Jack stopped him with a gentle, deep kiss. Ianto didn't stand much of a chance really as he smiled into it.