Trying out a new style of writing. Tell me if it's any good!
Mild Ianto/Jack pairing
I don't own Torchwood or the characters.
No One Thinks To Ask.
His eyes look so sad as they stare out across the city that you have to look away. It's windy and cold and you're shivering and he's just standing there with his hands in his pockets like he can't feel anything. And as far as you know, he can't. You don't know anything about him, where he came from, what he is, who he is. All you know is that he's handsome, charming, and most likely gay. But other than that, you just don't know. No one knows.
You've heard the others whispering, gossiping about him. Making wild guesses in the dark while he's not around. Some seem plausible, others down right outrageous. Some make your blood boil. Owen's made more than enough comments about him. Hissing in hush voices about how he's not even human, that he's out to destroy the world like every other god forsaken alien that's crossed our path. But you know better. You know Jack's human, you know in your heart. Though you can't recall there ever being a test done on him, you know he's human. Because you know everything.
But you don't know everything, do you? It nags you night and day that you don't know him. You don't know who Captain Jack Harkness really is. He's dropped hints and clues to people that you've eagerly listened in on, but other than that, you don't know. You never thought to ask. No one thinks to ask.
You're looking at him, your eyes so full of desperation and he's not meeting your gaze. He's looking down at all those little cars being driven by people that he's saved countless times and they don't even know. They don't know his name, they don't know his charming smile and they don't know how he's risking his life for them every day. They don't even thank him. Hell, you know and you don't even thank him.
You do know he can't die. You don't know why he can't die, if he's been like that his entire life, but he can't. Does that make what he does less heroic? You don't think so. You've heard him talking about it, how it hurts him every time he dies, it hurts being dragged back. You can see it in his eyes that he's scared, so very scared, and you can't do anything about it. You're just the tea-boy. And you wish you weren't. You wish so much that you could be something more, something that can help him. You wish it so hard and so long that it aches, but you don't stop wishing because it's all you can do.
He's turning towards you now, that dashing smile on his lips as he reaches out his hand towards you. You reach out and take it, your fingers lacing between his slightly smaller ones. You're hearts pounding in your ears and his lips are tugging into a bigger smile as he looks at you, blue eyes twinkling in the passing light. Its only a moment that his eyes are on you before he's turning back to search the streets below, but its left you shaken and you're more than certain that he can feel your hands trembling in his. But if he can, he's not saying anything. He's just standing there smiling as his gaze flickers from car to car.
"What are you searching for?" You hear your voice ask though you don't remember thinking the question. It hangs in the air and you can see the corner of his mouth twitch down and you don't know if it's a good twitch or a bad one, and it's making your stomach do nervous flips that you're not sure you like.
"The right kind of Doctor." He says, and you've heard him say that phrase before, but you don't know what it means. You want to ask him but the intense look he's giving you now makes you afraid, and now you're more than certain you don't want to know. But you know that's a lie, because you do want to know. You're mouth just hasn't gotten that memo. He must see the question in your eyes though, for he's smiling that knowing smile of his and he's opening his mouth to speak. "I've seen so many things, Ianto."
You were expecting more, but he looks away before you can ask another question and his fingers are slipping away from yours. He's walking away from you, that large coat of his blowing behind him and you can't bring yourself to chase after him. Your feet are rooted to the ground and there's a whole pond of frogs in your throat and the most you can muster is a small croak that dies before it even reaches your own ears.
That one sentence burns in your head. It plays over and over again, driving you into insanity as you try and figure out just what Jack has seen that could make him this way. The others couldn't possibly see it, they're too busy worrying about themselves or the other team members to catch on, but you know. Or, you think you know. Something's wrong with Jack. He's different now, ever since he went missing after visiting a so called friend. He always was in the middle of things, being the boss and taking control. But now you've noticed that Gwen does most of the bossing. She's taking control and Jack's just sitting there and letting her. You don't like it.
You sit and stare at him when he's in his office and he thinks that you've already gone home. He sits there and stares out into space like it holds the answers that will make him better. But it never does. You can tell by the haunted look behind his aged eyes. He's so lost and confused and scared and you can't help because you're just you, and you definitely don't like that feeling.
Your feet are moving towards him, and you don't know why or how, but you're in front of his desk and he's staring up at you in mild shock just waiting for you to speak. But you don't speak. You just let your mouth open in close as you fight back the chorus of frogs. Your hearts racing again and you don't know why it does that. Why your heart speeds up when he's around, why your mind races with a million things to say but you just can't say them. You have your suspicions as to why you behave that way, but you don't like them.
He's clearing his throat and his gaze turned to surprise to expectance as he leans back in his seat and places his boots on the desk. You feel the urge to tell him to remove them but you can't because you came here to say something else. You close your eyes tight and swallow the lump as best you can before opening your mouth and hope that what comes out is what you want'
"Thank you." Is all you say and you're opening one eyes slightly to get a look at his expression. He's staring up at you in confusion now, his arms crossing over his chest as he tilts his head.
"For what?" He's asking you and you're just standing there like an idiot staring down at him.
"Everything." You say simply, hoping he got your meaning. There's silence in the room and you're frightened that you've upset him so you're turning to leave but his hand on your wrist stops you. You don't know when he stood up or how he got around his desk so fast, but all you know is that his lips are on yours and your head is swimming in a good way and you can't breathe but you're probably the happiest man on the earth.
You still don't know who he is, where he came from, or what he really is. But you think that maybe, just maybe, you've gotten a step closer to finding out. And as his arms wrap around you, you're glad that you thought to ask him, even if it was a simple question as what he was searching for.