Title:
From One to the Other
Pairing/Characters: Ianto, implied
Ianto/Jack
Rating: Ummm, PG?
Disclaimer: I only own Torchwood
in my dreams.
Summary: A reflection on/from Ianto.
Notes: My
first Torchwood fic
From One to the Other
Love
Hate
Ianto Jones was starting to realize that as often as not one came from the other; hate from love and love from hate.
He loved Lisa but hated what she'd become. Hated what they made her. Ianto looked back on the memories of their time together and a smile would fall on his face, sadness disappearing for a moment. When he looked back on how it ended the sadness took over and anger all but consumed him; he sent curses toward Torchwood One for hiring Lisa and for hiring him. He was much happier in the dark.
Ianto hated Jack for giving Lisa no chance. Hated him for giving the orders to kill and for being one of those who pulled the trigger; even when he understood there was no chance it was a fight to push himself far enough to forgive. Hated Jack but later Ianto realized he loved him too. Loved their quiet conversations over coffee and tea when the Hub was empty but neither could sleep. Held onto the moments when Jack dropped the façade long enough to give him a glimpse of the true Jack; long enough to tell him the truth about his past. It was in those moments Ianto felt Jack was truly human, those moments that made his love stronger and the hatred weaker. Loved the random moments spent flirting when there was work to be done.
Ianto hated how people he loved kept disappearing in his life. He'd loved Lisa: lost her, found her for the briefest of moments before the loss became a permanent thing. He loved Jack but hated almost everything he did. Hated how he came back from the dead and kissed him only to disappear without a word as soon as his back was turned.
Love
Hate
From one to the other and back again; Ianto could not take it anymore.
He stood tall, silent and emotionless waiting for the others: to notice a change; to say something-anything at all that wasn't revolving around work or coffee but no one ever did.
After all he was only the tea boy; time or emotions weren't meant to be wasted on him.