Disclaimer: I do not own.
My first true Torchwood fic in a while, to celebrate the would-be 27th birthday of one Ianto Jones. :) The title comes from Pink Floyd's "Time" (a truly brilliant song). I hope you enjoy.
And speaking of Torchwood what's everyone's opinions on "The New World"? Personally, I'm still a little dubious and worried about the whole being set in America idea. I know shows expand and change over time, but I just don't know... I think Torchwood for me will always be about that little gang of five brilliant people, saving the world from their basement in Cardiff. :D Still, that said... I have been proven wrong before...
Ticking Away The Moments
Slowly, Jack Harkness raised his arm so that the watch on it was level with his eyes. Even after everything the second hand still ticked on; totally consistent and never stopping. In many ways, Jack wished he was more like that.
According to the hands it was twenty-two minutes past three in the morning. The date window told him it was the 19th of August. And as his eyes took that in and his brain made the connection, Jack automatically felt his throat close up and his heart twinge painfully. It had been over a year and it still hurt.
With a sigh, he closed his eyes for a moment and simultaneously closed his mind to painful memories. Instead he studied the watch. Even after eight months of travelling to so many different worlds, it was still set on Greenwich Mean Time, Britain, Earth. Time outside of that had no meaning for him and Jack still didn't know if he liked that idea or not.
In a quick, somewhat practised movement, Jack clicked the crown out of position. The ticking stopped. For Jack Harkness, time as he knew it stopped. With a flick, the hands shot backwards, instantly rewinding the past forty-three minutes. Not for the first time did Jack find himself thinking how easy life would be if that was possible. Oh, he knew time travel was possible. But this was, somehow, something different.
Time travel would always be limited. Limited in a way Jack wished he could change. But with a simple flick of the crown on a watch and the last ten minutes of someone's life was reversed. Ten minutes to save someone. To get them out of a building, to save them from poison, to save...
Jack's mind shut off again, almost automatically. It still hurt too much to think of... that day; those few days of hell. Grimly, as he continued to study the watch and the date it displayed, he realised that this should have been a happy day on Earth.
August 19, 2010.
Twenty-seven years old today. They would have had a surprise party for the reluctant birthday man. Gwen would have taken the whole celebrating to extremes; the Hub would have been decorated in a way which would have made everyone cringe. Tosh would have given him something he actually wanted for a present, while Owen would have only grudgingly participated (mainly due to threats made by Gwen). And Jack would have... he would have...
The smile from previous faux memories vanished from Jack's face. A lone tear tracked its way down his cheek; he didn't bother to wipe it away. The tears had become a part of him, something so unrelenting that he'd learned to ignore them. He hardly even noticed them anymore, but found himself wondering how long it would be until he ran out.
A hand suddenly brushed his shoulder. Comfortingly, it rubbed a small circle and, involuntarily, Jack choked back a sob.
"Come on, Jack." The voice was soft, full of compassion and empathy. Of all the people in the universe, they were the two who knew loss the most. And its pain and the numbness it eventually brought.
Nodding, Jack wound the hands on his watch forwards again before clicking the crown back into place. With one final look at the arid, wasteland horizon Jack turned and pushed the poignant memories to the back of his mind.
"Time to go home."