Prologue:
There is warmth.
That is the real change, the warmth. Before, my returns were nothing more than ice and pain as my broken body stitched itself back together, pulling my soul—kicking and screaming—back to life. But now…
Even as I let out my first choked gasp, I instinctively know that everything is safe, because of that warmth. My fingers grip at his sleeves, feeling the soft scratch of his wool coat, anchoring me to what is familiar, what is concrete, what is vibrant and alive.
Smell is the next sense to return, and today he smells of rain and musty rooms, but he still smells wonderfully, gloriously, like himself. I press myself closer, wanting more, wanting to reassure myself that he's really here, that he's still breathing, still mine.
"Jack?" I can hear the worry in his voice, how the fear sharpens his consonants, until each word seems to end in a point sharp enough to skewer right through me. No matter how many times we do this, that worry never fades. I'm starting to wonder who has the worse end out of the deal.
Vision is always the last to return, but it's okay, because he's here with me, his whispers soothing the lonely ache that always accompanied my returns. The words mean nothing of course; nothing sticks as I gasp—greedily filling my lungs with precious air. But it doesn't matter. His mere presence wipes away the fear of waking from black, from the nothing.
And I hold onto him, relishing the feeling of warmth, the reminder that I have something real to come back for. He is a patient man, willing to wait as long as he needs to until I find myself again, his fingers running through my hair as he continues to murmur fleeting words of comfort into my ear. As long as he's with me, as long as I can feel his lips against my skin, his arms cradling me as I struggle back into the land of the living… I can almost believe that I'm coming back by choice.
((Hi guys. It's been a long time since I've written anything other than a case study, so please pardon the rusty writing. I had a really fun idea, so hopefully I can clear out the cobwebs and give you all a decent story.
On a side note, I really adored the moments when Jack died with Ianto present. Especially during COE, even when he was horrified by what Jack had done in his past, he still goes to him when Jack dies. To me that's always been a subtle but powerful insight into their relationship. I hope I did it justice.))