by Bluestar1, aka Crystalshard
Disclaimer: I owneth Torchwood not. It doth belong to the great and wonderful BBC.
Author's Notes: This is an expansion of a challenge drabble I wrote. No spoilers, as far as I know.
Ianto opened blurry eyes and coughed. The air around him was full of dust, the Hub open to the sky and looking as if it was the epicentre of a powerful earthquake. That wasn't far wrong, as far as he knew. Something had happened to the Rift, pulling it asunder, and the injured tectonic plate had reacted. Violently.
He'd seen Gwen and Owen, both bruised and bleeding, make it to the lift just before a terrified Tosh had been pulled into the howling rift. But it wasn't howling any more. In fact, it was silent.
Too silent.
"Jack? Where are you?"
Ianto's words echoed in the ruined Hub, half in smoky sunlight and half in clear shadows. There was no-one else here. He coughed again and hauled himself to his feet, broken glass and bits of brick falling from the back of his ruined suit.
"Jack?"
Ianto methodically searched the Hub, starting with Jack's office and continuing downwards. Rubble crunched under his feet as he called, but there was no response. Not even anyone looking through the cracked earth to the until-now hidden base.
He opened the last door, hoping now that Jack wouldn't be there. That he'd got away, and was waiting for Ianto outside the Hub. Something, anything, but what he saw.
In the empty basement where Lisa had lived for those long months, Jack was standing at the edge of the open Rift. It was black and hungry, dull shadows slopping over each other like crude oil. Jack was in his familiar casual pose, hands in his pockets and the sickeningly hot air from the Rift blowing back his coat and hair.
"Come to join me, Ianto?" Jack held out a welcoming hand, the shadows casting a disturbing light on his grinning features.
"Jack, what are you doing?" Somehow the name 'Jack' came easily to Ianto, for all that he'd called him 'Sir' before. It didn't seem to matter, now.
"I'm going home, Ianto. Want to come?"
Ianto had seen Jack angry, grieving, furious and quietly deadly, but none of those had scared him as much as Jack's expression now. Jack was grinning like a madman who'd been told his wildest fantasies could come true, if only he paid one small price.
"I thought that this was your home, Jack! Where are you going? Why are you going?"
Ianto's desperation must have somehow communicated itself to Jack, as the Captain frowned. "I gave you a chance, Ianto. Two. Last one now. Come with me."
"I can't, Jack! I'm needed here, on Earth. You're needed here too." Ianto licked his lips with anxiety as he blurted out the last part. "I need you."
Jack gave Ianto a look of disappointment that sent the younger man reeling. "Goodbye, then, Ianto Jones."
And Captain Jack Harkness stepped into the rift. The oily shadows swallowed him before Ianto had the chance to scream, "NO!"
"Ianto? Ianto, wake up."
The young Welshman opened his eyes again to cotton sheets and Jack's concerned face. A dream. It was just a dream. Ianto tried to use that knowledge to slow his racing heartbeat, but the dream was too vivid in his mind to be dismissed by a warm bed and artificial lights.
"Another nightmare, Ianto?" Ianto nodded, and his lover collected him into his arms. "Shh. Shh, it's all right. I'm here."
"Don't leave me," Ianto said, his face muffled in Jack's bare shoulder.
"Hey, I'm staying right here. See? Right here." Jack tugged Ianto away from his shoulder and kissed him tenderly. Ianto threw himself into the kiss with a desperation that surprised even him. He felt Jack's chuckle as it reverberated against his chest.
"Well, if you're feeling like that . . ."
But even afterwards, sated and languorous with Jack's best efforts to distract him, the nightmare lurked darkly under his thoughts.