Author's Notes: This is more romantic and darker than most of the things I've written before, and that's saying something. It's a bit strange, so I'd love to know what you think.
The text used is from one of Pablo Neruda's poems.
I love you only because it's you the one I love
I hate you deeply, and hating you
Bend to you, and the measure of my changing love for you
Is that I do not see you but love you blindly
A good con, Jack knew, was all about timing.
He knew it in the moment he looked at Ianto after the incident with Lisa. A good con was how you turned a distrusting, angry boy into a soldier ready to jump in front of a bullet to save you. It was simple – you make the victim think it's worth it to fight for you, you make them care just the right amount without them noticing and you've got yourself the perfect man as a result.
The key to a good con was also not getting involved, but Jack didn't find it too hard to ignore that rule, especially after he came back to his team. He couldn't help it, really it wasn't easy to keep it impersonal when the victim in question was ridiculously pretty and displayed confidence that hadn't been there before and that Jack found incredibly attractive.
It wasn't just that, thought. Since the Captain had come back, Ianto had become a completely new person in his eyes. It was inevitable because Jack wanted it; he asked about every little thing in his life and took him everywhere he could think of just so he could see the light in his eyes at the sight of something new; just so he could savour the smiles that Ianto saved for these moments alone.
Ianto loved danger. Jack had noticed it long ago – how excited risk got him – and just mentioning it and saying that he was all right with it had earned him a shag on the edge of a cliff with the waves crashing thirty feet below them. It had been enjoyable if mildly terrifying, because apparently the biggest turn on Ianto could imagine was being centimeters away from dying a horrible death. It was clear how alive it made Ianto feel, though, so Jack didn't stop him, no matter how dangerous it got, and always tried to be there to catch him. Just in case.
Despite his calm exterior, Ianto was like a falling star piercing through the darkness of the sky – burning from the sheer intensity of it and yet having only moments to make his mark on the world.
It took Jack a while to understand that Ianto wasn't actively trying to kill himself but rather genuinely didn't give a damn whether he was going to die or not. He cared only for what the moment brought him, as if he had forever or no time at all, and Jack knew which one it was, even if he didn't want to think about it.
Forever was empty. All he had was the now.
It would have been so much easier to hate him, Jack realised. To try to turn Ianto into his personal pawn just out of spite, because he could. It would have been so much easier when compared to how he felt now.
He woke up in the mornings with Ianto by his side; his hair ruffled and his blue eyes heavy with sleep and more beautiful with every passing second and the Captain wondered when quiet, impersonal monitoring of the plan had turned into affection gentler than anything Jack remembered feeling before.
They were lying in Jack's bed one evening when Ianto asked the question that made him remember the plan he was supposedly still following. It was absolutely out of the blue. Well, not really, because Ianto's tongue always loosened after sex, but this was an absolutely unexpected topic.
"Why didn't you kill me?" At the incredulous look Jack gave him, he went on. "Back then, I mean. After– after Lisa."
Jack smiled and reached up to ruffle Ianto's hair. "And waste all that potential? No way."
His lover grinned. "You spared my life for queen and country? Ivy would have been proud."
Ianto's fond nickname of his former boss never failed to disturb Jack deeply and he shivered. "Don't even joke about that. If I've made that woman proud even once, I'll throw myself in the Bay first thing tomorrow."
Ianto outright laughed at this. "Seriously thought, what kind of potential did you see?"
Jack sighed. He didn't want to think about that time, let alone discuss it with Ianto. It only served to remind him how ridiculously betrayed he'd felt that day and it wasn't something he wanted to remember when the one who had started it all was currently lying in his arms. He shrugged. "I remember looking at you back then and thinking that I couldn't afford to lose that mind and that fierce determination. I wanted it all for myself, of course, but it was mostly the Captain thinking how beautiful Torchwood could get with you in it."
"So that was why you kept visiting during my suspension," Ianto said quietly. "You were trying to recruit me."
"Exactly." His fingers were still absently playing with Ianto's hair. "I'm glad you're on our side." When there was no response, Jack went on, voice lower than before and full of all the vulnerability he didn't want to feel. "You scare the living hell out of me, Ianto Jones."
Ianto smiled, eyes already closing on their own accord. "I know."
He moved about until he could place his head on Jack's chest so he could leech from his warmth – Ianto's skin was always colder than stone – and promptly fell asleep.
It was rather unfair, Jack thought, that he could just throw that topic in and then go to sleep as if nothing had happened. Unfair and selfish, considering the fact that Jack was now left staring down at his face – now making barely noticeable grimaces and small noises as he dreamt – and thinking of all the things that had led to this.
Then, as Ianto whimpered in his sleep and shivered slightly, Jack wrapped his arms even tighter around his body as if he would never have to let him go, and closed his eyes as well.
In this part of the story I am the one who dies
The only one, and I will die of love because I love you
Because I love you, Love, in fire and blood
"Ianto?" Jack turned in his place to see Gwen on the backseat tap the young man's cheek gently. "Come on, sweetheart, you've got to stay awake." When Ianto's eyes slid closed, Gwen gave him a light slap. "Ianto!"
"Sorry," Ianto mumbled, his fingers reaching up to the open wound in his chest and Jack winced in sympathy. Apparently the pain woke him up completely, because his eyes suddenly focused. "Don't worry," he said, irritated, when both Gwen and Jack stared at him with matching worry in their eyes. "I'm fine."
"Like hell you are," Jack snapped. "Owen, speed up. Tosh," he tapped his comm., "prepare whatever instruments Owen might need."
"What happened?" He could already hear Tosh's heels clicking on the floor of the Hub.
"Ianto got shot; a small, semi-automatic pistol. There's no exit wound."
"Where was he shot?" Her voice was tight, as if she was trying not to let fear affect her.
Jack swallowed. "In the chest. We need to get the bullet out as soon as possible and stitch it up. He's losing blood."
Ianto managed to get out of the car by himself somehow and then leant on jack's expecting shoulder. "Want me to carry you?" Jack asked when Ianto hissed at every little movement. He scoffed.
"I'm not a bloody girl, Jack," he said snappishly but winced as soon as he made the next step.
"No," Jack agreed. "But you're in pain." He unceremoniously ignored Ianto's protests before placing one arm under his shoulders and the other one behind his knees. "Stop fussing, will you? You're not making it easy." It was a bit uncomfortable – he and Ianto were too similar in height – but not really difficult, given how light his lover was. "Come on, Ianto, just a bit more. Just stay awake."
They managed it at last and Jack put Ianto down on the examination table and ripped three layers of clothing methodically to get to his chest.
It looked even worse than before now. Ianto's muscles were tense and the blood stood out shockingly against his pale skin. Jack was almost paralysed with horror when Owen pushed him away and got to work.
"Christ, kid," he muttered as he removed the bullet carefully and Ianto roared his pain to anyone who cared to hear it. "Why does it always have to be you?"
"It's a special talent; attracting danger. Few are born with it and even fewer survive it." Sweat broke over his skin and Jack saw Ianto's hands trembling as he tried to keep them – and himself – under control.
"Do you ever shut up?" Owen asked conversationally and then hurried to add, "Don't answer, please, I have enough work as it is."
As the minutes passed, though, Jack could see that Ianto was in even more pain than before and Owen was getting more and more frustrated by the lack of progress even after he took the bullet out. Finally, he told Gwen to watch over Ianto and pulled the Captain aside.
"Look, Jack, I don't know what his pain threshold is, but there's one thing I can tell you – he's in hell right now. I don't know how he even stands it, especially since he keeps being a mouthy little bastard, but this thing," he lifted the bullet to Jack's eye level, "has passed through his lung and came out on the other side. He's lost too much blood."
"No," Jack said immediately, unable to stand the pity in Owen's eyes. "No, he can't– There must be a way."
"There's no way that wound can recover fast enough, Jack," Owen said quietly. "Even if I stop the bleeding, every breath he takes can be the last one. It's irrevocably damaged; I don't see how he can keep going like that for thirty more minutes, let alone the days it'll need for that wound to heal. If it heals at all."
Without responding, Jack made his way down the stairs and took Gwen's place just in time to hear Ianto take in a shuddering breath. "You know," he started, voice raspy, "in movies, when the Doctor pulls the next of kin – or whatever passes for one – aside and leaves the pretty leading character by the hero's bed, he's pretty much doomed."
"Gwen's the pretty leading character?" Jack's voice was choked but he tried to control it. "What does that make me, then?"
"You're the sidekick," Ianto said seriously. "You know, the one with the witty lines and the surprisingly good ideas."
"I'm pretty sure that's you, snookums," Jack said, his eyes frantically searching Ianto's face for any sign of him fighting with the inevitable.
Ianto tried to laugh, but it proved to be too much effort. "Kiss me," he rasped out in the end. When Jack raised an eyebrow, he added, "I'm dying." This time, he managed a small laugh. "That was rather poetic, don't you think? Kiss me, I'm dying."
"Don't be stupid, you're not dying," Jack said firmly. "You're with the Captain here."
'And what're you gonna do about it," Ianto's breath left him in a hiss, "Captain?"
"I'm going to kiss you."
Ianto smiled up at him, eyes a bit foggy and breathing frantic. "Go on, then."
"It's going to hurt," Jack warned and Ianto laughed again, not even wincing from the pain this time. He had a point, Jack had to admit. He probably couldn't be in any more pain than he already was.
"Frankly, my dear..."
"Okay, okay." Jack leant down and pressed his lips against Ianto's, doing what he already had before – transferring his own energy into him until he could see Ianto's eyes shining golden with the power of the time vortex. Only when he felt the skin fixing itself under his fingers did he pull back, choking on his own tears at how close a call it had been this time. "Ianto Jones," he whispered, reaching up to trace Ianto's features with his fingers. "You're going to be the death of me."
A good con, Jack knew, was all about timing. And once the victim was tied up in your web, there was no going back. You had him forever. And conning the conman was quite an achievement, Jack decided, especially given that he would actually have forever on his hands.
There was a flicker of dark amusement in Ianto's eyes. "And don't you ever forget it."