A/N: I have no claims to anything Torchwood but would like to extend my sincere Thanks to the writers, cast and crew for leaving little pauses in the storyline. This scene was just begging to be extended and so I tried my best to fill it in.
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He knew what was coming but couldn't wake himself as the waves of memories insinuated themselves throughout his dreams. The piercing train whistle, the flash of shadows outside the boxcar. The fifteen men around him, his friends, laughing and talking with each other as they played cards or picked out a tune on a harmonica. They didn't seem to notice the soft flutter of wings as the darkness settled around them as they entered into the tunnel. Their laughter and talk seeming to grow in volume as the darkness closed in and Jack felt himself grow tense. He knew what was coming and he struggled against the layers of sleep, trying to waken.
The rustling of wings grew louder in the darkness and the talking and laughter of the men slowly died out. Jack felt the dread wash over him as the foreboding silence closed in. Flashes of light sped by giving brief glimpses of the other men in the boxcar, their lifeless bodies lolling with the movement of the train. He could see their dead and staring eyes gazing at him almost accusingly. They were his men. He was responsible for them. He was supposed to make sure they reached their destination. But it didn't turn out that way. They were all dead, suffocated, with bright red flower petals spilling out of their lungs like blood. The incongruity of the sight washed over Jack as he looked around in disbelief. A distant echo of laughter causing chills to run up and down his spine as he looked around at the horror in front of him.
The guilt crashed over him and he finally jerked awake, his face slick with sweat from the lingering horror. He needed to get away from his bed. Confirm that the horror was in the past, over. He quickly pulled on his pants and boots and tugged a vest down over his head before crawling out of his bunker. Walking to his desk he stopped at the front, leaning on it as he took a deep, calming breath trying to shake off the memories drug up from his dream. Glancing down he paused at the sight of the single rose petal, a splash of red against the white papers on his desk. Reaching out carefully he picked it up, almost convinced that it wasn't really there and would dissappear at his touch. Trepidation and disbelief filled him. He didn't want to believe they were back. They couldn't be back.
A muffled step from outside his office made him turn quickly, crumpling the rose petal in his fist and shoving his hands in his pockets. Ianto had paused outside the office to turn a page in the file he was reading.
"You shouldn't be here." Jack hadn't realized Ianto was still in the Hub. The young man should have gone home by now. He worked far longer hours than the other three torchwood members and Jack was worried about him.
Ianto started, glancing up at Jack. He took in the sight of the sleep rumpled hair, and clinging vest and froze. "Neither should you." he said quietly. Jack took a step forward and Ianto hurried off to continue what he was doing. Desperately hoping that Jack would leave him alone but secretly wishing he would come and keep him company.
Jack walked up behind Ianto as he was bent over a computer keyboard keying in a few instructions. He stepped close and put a hand on Ianto's shoulder. He needed human contact right now and hoped Ianto didn't mind. Jack felt the young man jump slightly at the contact as Ianto glanced first at his hand and then at his face, but he didn't pull away. "What have you got?"
Ianto stood up feeling the gentle strength of Jacks hand pat his shoulder and then run down his back before falling away leaving him feeling strangely bereft. "Funny sort of weather patterns." He turned to look at Jacks face. The empty expression on the other mans face worried Ianto. He thought he saw a glimpse of apprehension or fear but it was quickly shuttered away, back behind the emptiness.
"Would you like me to bring you a coffee?"
Jack nodded his head. Maybe the coffee would warm the bleak isolation that he was feeling at the moment. He felt Ianto move away but continued to stare at the weather patterns that were up on the computer monitors. A chill of familiarity with what was happening cut him to his center and he quickly turned away, prowling around the edge of the Hub looking for something to distract him from his dark thoughts but finding nothing. Ending up outside the autopsy bay he sat on the sofa and slouched down. Ianto walked up silently and handed him a cup of coffee. Jack inhaled its rich aroma as he looked at the young man standing nervously in front of him and patted the sofa next to him, sliding to the far side so Ianto would feel comfortable sitting with him. He just wanted some human company for a while, needed human company.
Ianto sat down next to the captain, feeling awkward as he did so. It wasn't all that long ago that he had told the older man that he wanted to watch him suffer and die. Did he still feel that way? No. Their relationship had changed during the past few weeks. It was still evolving so Ianto didn't know what it was yet but he thought there was a possibility that they may actually end up being friends.
"Does it still hurt?" Jacks voice broke into his thoughts.
Ianto didn't need to ask what, and looked down at his hands. "Yes." He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Did he want to share this with his captain? What happened with Lisa was still an open wound that burned with an almost unbearable emotional pain. She had been his life and now she was gone. But Jack was in a strange mood and seemed to need a distraction and Ianto felt the need to try and oblige. "But each day I think about her a little less and the pain isn't quite as sharp as it used to be. I'm learning to move on with my life but there is the occasional backslide when things get overwhelming." Ianto stopped talking. He could feel the pain starting to well up inside of him and it was time to change the conversation. He looked over at Jack who was staring into his coffee mug. "Is something wrong? Would you like to talk about it?"
Jack shook his head. "Distant memories from many lifetimes ago. Things I should have done but didn't. It's too late now. Time to look towards the future." He gave a small shiver and took a long drink of his coffee.
Ianto looked at him. "You must be cold. Would you like me to fetch you your coat?"
Jack shook his head. "Do you think… That is, if you wouldn't mind… I mean…" Ianto looked at him questioningly. Captain Jack Harkness seemed to be stammering. Not something he usually did. "Would you let me just hold you for a few minutes?" At Ianto's surprised look Jack hurried on. "I'm not coming on to you. I just need to feel the warmth of another person. A friend that I care about." He smiled at the younger man. "Unless you still want to watch me die a slow and painful death that is."
Ianto felt a flush of embarrassment sweep across his face and looked away. "Right. About that…"
Jack smiled and shook his head. "A conversation for another time. It's just… the things I have lived through sneak up on me from time to time and I feel so alone. Almost everyone I have ever cared about is dead. It doesn't do to dwell in the past but sometimes it's unavoidable. The memories come rushing forward and it takes all my strength to push them away and I feel so alone."
Jack paused, leaning his head back on the couch and so not seeing the flash on understanding on Iantos face. After a moment he felt Ianto slide closer in to his side and slip his arms around his waist and across his chest. He brought his own arms around Ianto's warm body and pulled him closer leaning his cheek against the top of the younger mans head. He felt tears prick at his eyes but blinked them away. "Thank you." The weight of the arm across his chest and the warmth pressed against his side were a soothing balm to his frayed memories. The difficult memories that were slowly melting back to where they belonged in his subconscious.
The two men sat quietly together for long moments, not speaking, just drawing strength from each other, enjoying the companionship and warmth. Each knowing that their relationship was changing but not willing to break the spell that had settled around them that evening. There would be time enough to examine their relationship in the bright light of day but for that evening they were in a special world of their own where they were good friends, each sharing their strength and comfort with the other. Shoring up their emotions to face another day.