Faith
"You're shrouded," she says. It's the first time he's seen her since returning to Cardiff after the nightmare of London. "Cloaked in darkness and shadows."
He's not surprised and certainly not concerned. Frankly, he's relieved. If she'd been able to see anything, he would have been doomed. So he simply shrugs and sips at his milky tea. For all her sight, his companion has never mastered the art of preparing tea to anyone's liking but her own.
"Probably Torchwood One," he murmurs, and she nods in sympathy. It's true, in a way: the ghosts of Torchwood One cling to him, strangling him more and more every day. The fear, the anger, the anguish, the guilt—all of it, curling around his heart and squeezing it tighter each time he walks into the basement to see Lisa.
"You shouldn't have come back to Torchwood, Ianto," she says. "Anyone can see that."
"It's what I know," he replies automatically. She's not the first person to point out this very fact, and to be honest, he agrees with her. If he wasn't trying to save the woman he loved, he would probably be recovering in a dead-end government job somewhere, content to tell others that he was the victim of a terrorist attack, and not trans-dimensional aliens trying to assimilate the planet. But he's not normal, never was, and Torchwood has claimed him, heart and soul. And not just because of Lisa.
"Are you sure you're all right?" she asks. "I've not seen such shadows surrounding you before." He sighs, deciding to let her in just a little. He has known her for quite a while, after all.
"I'm getting there," he replies quietly. "There are good days and there are bad days."
"And today?" she asks.
"A better one," he says, and he means it. Lisa had been more alert that morning, talking about the future, squeezing his hand, returning his kiss. Then he had gone back up to the Hub to find the Captain awake, and they'd had a cup of coffee and breakfast together, the conversation tinged with the sexual tension Ianto always felt around Jack Harkness. He was starting to enjoy it so much that he was fairly certain he wouldn't be able to resist the undeniable attraction between them much longer, no matter how badly he wanted to remain faithful to Lisa. He felt guilty about it, and yet…Jack made every day better with his smile and his flirting and his deep blue eyes that spoke of so much sadness and heartbreak that Ianto felt a kindred soul every time he gazed into them.
"Ianto," the girl interrupts his thoughts, frowning. "Be careful there. Captain Harkness is not all he seems."
Ianto nods. "I can sense that. He's much older than he appears, isn't he? Older and more broken than he wants people to see."
"Like yourself?" she asks, and he tips his mug to her. "Be careful," she repeats. "Your instinct is correct, but you should know he's a dangerous man, especially where matters of the heart are concerned."
Ianto almost spits out his drink. "Matters of the heart?" he repeats. "I'm not interested in matters of the heart at the moment." No, it was his strictly his libido that pulled him toward Jack Harkness; his heart was buried deep beneath Torchwood, waiting to be healed.
"Oh Ianto," she says sadly, gripping his hand tightly. "If only that were true. You were born to love and be loved. I can't see where it will take you, but I beg you to be careful with your heart around Captain Harkness."
"I'll try my best," Ianto drawled. "Considering the man is an arrogant, condescending prick most of the time."
The girl smiles. "Most of the time, perhaps."
But Ianto knew it was not all of the time, and those were the times he needed to be most careful.
He goes to see her two months later, when he's been suspended from Torchwood and has no where else to go. He's not sure why he goes to her, though he is so lost he half hopes she can see his path forward more clearly now that Lisa is gone.
She stands as soon as he steps into her room above the pub she usually frequents. Her young face frowns, and she actually stomps her foot.
"It's about time!" she exclaims, and then runs to him and throws her arms around his waist. He returns the embrace before gently extricating himself.
"I'm sorry," he mumbles, suddenly too tired to talk, even though he knows he'll have to say something. "It's been difficult."
"What happened?" she demands. She sits him down at a nearby table and pours him a small snifter of brandy. It's incongruous, being served hard liquor by someone who appears no older than twelve, and even stranger watching her swirl her own glass. Yet Ianto had known from the moment they met as children that she was different.
"I've been suspended," he says. "I'm surprised I'm not dead. Or starting a new life on the other side of the country."
"Oh Ianto," she says. "I wish I could see through the shadows that surround you. But they are so thick and dark and filled with sadness. I knew something had happened. I thought you had died."
Ianto looks down at his hands and laughs bitterly. "Perhaps I did. I was a bit out of it for a moment or two." He knocks back a large sip of brandy. "I survived, though sometimes I wish I hadn't."
"Don't say that!" she snaps at him. "Never say that. I may not be able to see when it's your time, but I know it doesn't end like that!"
"Sorry," he murmurs, shaking his head. "It's just that…" He trails off with a sigh, unable to explain.
"I've lost everything," he whispers. "And it was all for nothing. I was trying to save my girlfriend, but she died anyway."
The girl reaches out and pats his hand. "What happened?" she asks gently. He slams the rest of his drink slams the empty glass down on the table.
"Jack shot her," he snaps. "That's what happened. Jack fucking Harkness killed my girlfriend."
She stares at him, wide-eyed in surprise, until he can't stand it anymore and pushes out his chair to leave.
"Those shadows that surround me? It's Death." He stands and stalks to the door. "Death and Jack Harkness."
She comes to him next, somehow appearing in his flat as he recovers from yet another ordeal at the hands of Torchwood, this time both physical and emotional. Nursing bruised ribs, a mild concussion, and a deep gash on his neck, Ianto is lying on his sofa, one hand flung over his face as he breathes deeply, trying to hold back the panic.
"Ianto Jones, you fool," she murmurs, setting down a bowl of warm water scented with lavender and rose. She takes a flannel and gently cleans his face. He grits his teeth, refusing to let the tears fall.
"What are you doing here?"
"Taking care of you, until he does," she replies. Ianto shakes off her touch.
"I don't need a nursemaid," he tells her, ignoring her other more mysterious words.
"You sacrificed yourself for something," she says. "This much I can see, though the shadows are still thick. Tell me."
Against his better judgment, he tells her about the room full of hanging bodies, the scent of blood and gore everywhere, a nightmare of murder he can't peel from the back of his eyelids. He relives his capture, his defiance, his torture, his near execution, though he does not cry, not once. She is silent, but he can feel the pity flowing from her.
"I'm sorry," she says, laying a hand on his cheek. "I am sorry for your pain, your heartache, your confusion."
"It's not your fault," he says, letting his eyes slip closed.
"I know," she says, then steps away. "And I don't think I can truly help you."
"I don't need help," Ianto murmurs. "I need to leave this nightmare behind once and for all."
"You should accept what he offers," she tells him, and this time Ianto cannot ignore it, even though he half suspects he knows who she is talking about.
"Who?"
There is a knock at the door. The girl smiles mysteriously, and just as mysteriously disappears. He wonders if he'll be able to do the same someday. When the knocking continues and Ianto drags himself up from the sofa, he is somehow not surprised to find Jack about to kick in the door.
He is surprised at how easy it is to accept Jack's help.
Ianto brings her a Christmas pudding, just as he has for more decades than he cares to count. They share the dish in her tiny sitting room above the pub, talking about inconsequential things like the weather, and more important things like why he's not spending the holiday with Rhiannon and her family.
He has no answer for her.
As he is getting ready to leave, she cocks her head sideways, gazing blankly into the distance as if seeing something that wasn't there, listening to voices only she can hear. When she snaps out of it, she gazes at him sadly.
"Something has happened. He will need you tonight," she says. "Will you take care of him, as he did once for you?"
He stills and does not answer, though once again he knows exactly whom she is referring to.
"He is not what he seems," she tells him, and Ianto rolls his eyes.
"I realized that from the start," he replies dryly.
"He is much more," she tells him. "You will have to choose your path carefully, Ianto."
"And what path do you see me choosing?" he asks, unable to hide all his sarcasm. She either does not hear it or chooses to ignore it.
"It is unclear," she replies. "There is love and there is heartbreak, but there are still many shadows and I cannot see clearly. Be wary, Ianto, for his shadow is perhaps the greatest of all."
Ianto sighs, nods his acceptance of her strange pronouncement, then turns to go. As he is leaving the pub, his mobile rings. It's Jack. John Ellis is dead, and Jack sounds terrible.
Ianto goes to him. He chose his path long ago.
She warns him about Billis Manger, but no matter how hard he tries, he cannot stop Owen from opening the Rift. The trap is set and the monster released, and when it's over Jack is dead. Ianto clutches the cherished World War II greatcoat to him before storming from the Hub to find her, to demand answers. She smiles sadly and tells him to have patience, to believe.
Jack comes back to them, but Ianto's relief is short-lived when Jack disappears with his Doctor. Why come back when all of space and time is now his to travel freely?
She tells him Jack will return, but he doesn't believe her. Over the long days and weeks he loses himself in ways he never thought he would—drinking, sex, even a night spent high as a kite with Gwen and Owen while Tosh watches over them and makes sure they don't do something too stupid. Nothing fills the gaping hole within him. Jack abandoned them, abandoned him, and Ianto wonders why he stays with Torchwood.
Until the day Jack returns, and his world is turned upside-down yet again.
He goes to see her, demanding answers. How did she know he would return, where did he go, would he stay? She tells him nothing, only to ask such questions of the one who holds the answers. Ianto snorts.
"Jack Harkness doesn't answer personal questions," he tells her. "Which is why I'm always talking to you."
"And here I thought it was my charming company," she laughs lightly. He wants to throw the tea cup at her. She's looking at him with a smug smile for such a young face, like she knows something.
"Of course I know," she says, replying to his inner thoughts as if reading his mind. "I could sense it the moment you walked in the door."
"Sense what?" he asks cautiously. She sets down her cup and sighs.
"I once told you to be careful with your heart around Jack Harkness," she says. "But you weren't, were you?"
Ianto jumps up and paces the room. "I tried, of course I did. And then he left so it was easy to be angry, to forget for a while. But…" He turns to face her. "He's asked me out on a date. I think he means what he says."
"Then why are you talking to me and not to him?" she asks.
"I trust you more," he whispers, throwing himself back into the chair and letting his elbows fall to his knees. "Can you see my path? Is this where it leads?"
"Love and heartbreak were always a part of your destiny, Ianto," she says. "But I do not know which Captain Harkness will bring, I'm sorry. He is still shadowed, like you."
"Why?" Ianto demands. "Why can't you see my path? Him, I understand. He's immortal, his future is eternity. But mine? Why is mine so dark? Why am I surrounded by shadows?"
She takes his hand and squeezes it. "Because you've yet to find the light."
Once again he leaves with nothing more than riddles.
"You told him," he says, swirling the glass of whisky she handed him as soon as he arrived. "About the other glove."
"Your friend's journey was not yet complete," she replies. Ianto offers an incredulous look.
"So you've consigned him to a living death for…for what? Some grand destiny you refuse to reveal?"
"In some ways yes," she says. "Owen Harper is a doctor. He is meant to save lives."
"But we couldn't save his," Ianto replies bitterly. "He deserves better."
"He will find peace, of a sort," she says. "Especially with the support of his friends."
"Who, me?" Ianto laughs. He knocks back most of the drink. "I'm supposed to help a man who's done nothing but give me grief since the day I started? Who's mocked me, insulted me, hit me, kicked me, and humiliated me for no reason other than he can?"
"He has been good for you as well, has he not?" she asks. "Treated your injuries, saved your life, distracted you, supported you, and challenged you?"
"Doesn't change the facts," Ianto mutters. "He's a prat."
"And his time will come, when he will save the world. Until then, I hope you can be the friend he needs."
Ianto flings up his hands in frustration. "Why is it always me? Jack's beating himself up and Tosh is heartbroken. How can I take care of them and Owen at the same time?" He leaves out the words he never speaks, to anyone, even her.
She cocks her head as if listening. "And who will take care of you, you still wonder?" she asks sadly.
"No one," he says, his eyes slipping closed. "I'm alone."
"Oh Ianto, you're not alone," she says, reaching out for his hand. "You never have been."
He squeezes it back, but he doesn't believe her.
When she tells him Jack loves him, he doesn't believe her then either. Gwen is married and on her honeymoon, and Jack has given them the day off after they were up all night Retconning her wedding guests. It had been a job of almost epic proportions, rewriting wedding memories for well over one hundred people, deleting pictures, explaining the DJ's sad death. They'd done good work, but it had been strenuous, and Ianto had left the reception exhausted both mentally and physically.
He thinks about Jack dancing with Gwen, and tells himself the look of sadness and longing on Jack's face was for something he could never have as an immortal: a normal life. A partner, a home, a family. Or maybe it really was for Gwen, and Ianto is kidding himself that he means anything, that Jack cares, that it's worth it to be with someone when he still feels so alone.
"You're not the only one thinking about the future," she tells him as he sits with her later that afternoon. "Or of the past. You're not the only one who's loved and lost."
He knows that, of course he does. He even knew Jack had been married once, long ago. He tries to imagine a man like Jack Harkness settling down, tries not to imagine Jack settling down with him, and fails. She shakes her head at him, as if reading his mind once more.
"I told you once he was dangerous," she says.
"I've experienced that myself," he replies. "I didn't need you to point it out."
"And yet he's changed, Ianto," she says. "You've changed him, allowed him to love again."
"I very much doubt it," he replies, burying the spark of hope her words inspire. She reaches for his hand.
"Then why are there fewer shadows following him?" she asks. "And you?"
He has no answer.
"You should give him a chance," she tells him. "You come here to talk to me when you should be talking to him."
But Ianto doesn't talk to Jack, because it's not like that for them. It's not love. Instead, he thinks about getting married again one day, when Jack has left and gone. He thinks about having a normal life and wants it more than anything. And day after day, he thinks about how much he'd like to have it with Jack.
Things continue exactly the same with Jack, though Ianto continues to long for more. Gwen returns, finds out about Flat Holm, and breaks. Yet Torchwood carries on. Even Owen adjusts, and though Ianto tries to be there for him…at times, anyway…he suspects it has much more to do with Tosh. She is the one who helps him see what he can still do, still offer. Ianto mostly goes back to treating Owen exactly as he did before, which is perhaps the best thing he can do. Owen hates being treated like broken glass, and although Ianto knows he can never shoot or even punch Owen again, he can still offer sarcastic barbs and verbal repartee. He's better at it anyway, and if he catches Owen nodding gratefully once or twice, he ignores it.
But then Owen is gone, and so is Tosh, and what was the point after all? Owen had saved the world, but that didn't make it any easier, imagining his screams as he was trapped inside a nuclear facility on meltdown. Ianto is ashamed to admit he has nightmares about it. Tosh had died in Jack's arms; Owen had been alone.
She assures him, over tea and scones one quiet Sunday afternoon, that this too shall pass, the guilt and the grief and the nightmares. He rolls his eyes, but wonders how much more he can endure. And Jack. Jack who is even older than he is, who has lost so much more—his father, his brother, his planet, his future. Ianto once again feels the sting of surviving when others did not. He contemplates leaving, as he has so many other times. Trying for a normal life.
"He needs you," she says, patting his hand. "And you need him, though you tell yourself you do not."
"It's not like that," Ianto protests. She laughs, sounding exactly like the young girl she appears to be.
"Of course it's not," she says knowingly. "It's much more now."
"No," he tells her, shaking his head. "It's no more than…than…" He trails off, unable to answer. No more than what? He's lying if he thinks it's no more than any other relationship he's had. He's been married, for Christ's sake, back when he thought love and marriage meant until death do us part. He's been thinking about it constantly since Gwen got married, hating himself for wanting that same closeness, that same normality, with Jack. Because he can't have it, never will. What he has with Jack is no more than anything else in his life: temporary.
"It is everything, Ianto," she tells him quietly. "And only when you accept that will you truly embrace the light."
"You once said Jack's shadow was the largest of them all," he snaps. "You told me to stay away from him!"
"I told you to be careful," she corrects him. "For I could not see your path, nor his."
"And now you can?"
"I see glimpses of the future you long for," she says. "But you will lose it if you continue to push it away."
Always riddles. Sometimes he hates her for it, but sometimes he is relieved, because in the end riddles are easier to set aside than the truth.
And the truth is, he loves Jack. He always will, for the rest of his life, however long it may be.
Jack comes to see her after finally returning from London. Ianto is shocked at how different Jack looks—how defeated, how hopeless, how broken. He tells himself it is because Jack sacrificed his grandson to save the world, losing both Steven and his daughter. He believes Ianto is dead and Torchwood destroyed, and he is shattered.
Ianto feels for Jack, he really does, because he's lost people too, but he also can't put those final words from his mind. They've burned themselves into his heart. Don't. Don't what? Don't love him, don't say it, don't die? Ianto will never know. His life with Torchwood is over and it is time to start a new one.
But when Jack tells her about him, about Ianto, his voice cracking and breaking, Ianto feels a sharp tug in his gut. When Jack grows angry, blaming himself for Ianto's fate at Thames House and how much he regrets his final words, Ianto gasps for breath. And when Jack confesses his love and begs the girl to help him with desperate tears—somehow, there must be some way, another glove, anything—Ianto feels the shadows around him shatter like glass, dissolving into the light surrounding him.
Jack loves him. Jack misses him. Jack wants him.
And he feels the same.
He steps into the room, ignoring the girl's admonishment to rest. He goes to Jack, walking slowly, giving the other man time, for Jack has gone pale, his eyes wide, his mouth working soundlessly. He collapses onto a chair, still speechless, as tears flow from his eyes. He presses his palms against them, breathes in deeply, and opens them to meet Ianto's gaze with a crooked smile.
"You tell me everything, huh?" he opens with. Ianto raises an eyebrow.
"Maybe not everything," he replies.
"Why not this?" Jack whispers. "Do you know how much I…how many times I've…god, Ianto. Why didn't you tell me?"
"I'm not sure what this is, exactly," Ianto replies, gesturing to himself. "None of us are. And I wasn't sure what we were, either, Jack. If it mattered, if I mattered, in the end."
Jack jumps up, his face incredulous. "If it mattered? Ianto, how could you think that? How could you ever think that?"
"In a thousand years' time, you won't remember me," Ianto says softly, recalling his words to Jack and seeing how wrong he was.
"I would remember you in ten thousand years," Jack whispers fiercely, moving closer. "I could never forget you." He pauses, meeting Ianto's eyes with a look of unfathomable hope. "Especially if you're still with me."
"He's not like you, Captain," says the girl. "He is like me, waiting for our time, our purpose. We've known one another for quite a while."
Jack's eyes widen once more. "How long?" he whispers.
Ianto shrugs. "Since we were children. We grew up together in a village north of here."
Jack studies them both. "That doesn't help, since she still looks like a child and you look twenty-six."
"He's a year older than I am, Captain Harkness," the girl laughs. "And I've seen over a century pass."
"No," Jack whispers. "How…how is that possible?"
"I don't know," Ianto replies just as softly. "I only know I'm here for a reason, all of us…our kind. When we fulfill our destiny, our time is over, and only then do we pass. I thought it was at Thames House, but it was not meant to be. So it may be today, tomorrow, or another hundred years from now."
Jack turns on the girl. "And you can't see it? Your time, your destiny?"
She shakes her head sadly. "It is most frustrating," she replies. "But I can only see such things for those who die a mortal death." She holds up her hand to stop Jack's inevitable next question. "And no, we are not immortal, our path is only longer than most."
Jack turns back to Ianto. "Are you staying?" he whispers. "You're really here, really alive? And you'll stay with me?"
"For as long as I'm given, Jack," Ianto replies. "And as long as you'll have me."
Jack kisses him passionately then, leaving Ianto no choice but to set aside his lingering doubts. He is wanted, he is loved. He even wonders if…no, it couldn't be. This is not why he's here, is it? His purpose, his meaning?
The girl claps her hands, laughing with joy. "Ianto Jones, I think it is! You've found the light!"
Jack stops kissing him and raises an eyebrow. Ianto shakes his head. "Ignore her. She often talks like that."
"I know," says Jack. "Do you ever understand her?"
"Not usually," Ianto replies. "But this time…this time I might."
"Because you found the light?" Jack teases. Ianto takes his hand and nods.
"Because you did," he says.
The shadows have lifted and his path is clear, and Ianto has faith that this is his life now, at Jack's side until the very end.
Author's Note:
I started this ages ago, left it for a while, went back, stalled, and suddenly pulled it up and finished it just like that. Inspiration is a funny thing. It's a bit different for me, and sort of open-ended. Intentionally mysterious, but I hope you enjoyed it. Thank you for reading! As always, let a girl know what you thought?