Mercy
When he gets weary, try a little tenderness.
The wooden walls of Ianto's flat had begun to warp from constant exposure to moisture. Rainfall after rainfall, droplets constantly beating against the surface of the door until the bottom had risen from the threshold. In the crack that had formed, the slightest bit of light from the streetlamps had crept beneath, only broken by the feet of someone standing just beyond. He saw the shift of the shadows before the knock followed, and had already begun moving to answer the call of the midnight visitor.
Ianto did nothing to hide the redness of his eyes or the salt stains from tears dried on his face, nor did he make any attempt at hiding the shaking of his hands and the utter hopelessness that had taken over every molecule of his posture. He merely opened the door, stepped aside and silently welcomed Jack Harkness inside.
"I didn't think you'd come this soon." Ianto muttered, returning to a box on the table and his meticulous sorting of photographs and journals. Smiling faces and forgotten words stared at him as he sorted them into piles. Ones with her face and her name went to the left.
"I wanted to see if you were alright."
At the words Ianto shot him a glare through swollen eye lids, taking every fading ounce of energy not to throw himself at the other man and start pummeling his face in. Another journal took the brunt of his anger as he tossed it into the fireplace, sending sparking ashes rising up the chimney.
"You wanted. to see. if I was. alright?" He repeated the words slowly and purposefully, letting each linger on his tongue as if savoring the taste of poison before he let them go. "Alright after...? Alright after...? You killed my girlfriend? Alright after what, Jack? What would I possibly be alright after?"
"She had to be stopped, Ianto!" He snapped and immediately regretted it as he saw the younger man's shoulders slump even further. If there was a way to shatter Ianto Jones any more, certainly yelling at him for things he was painfully aware of was it. "I'm sorry. I am sorry you felt you couldn't trust me in the beginning, and I am sorry that it had to come to all of this."
"Heartbroken, I am sure." Try as he might to have venom to his words, Ianto could merely sink deeper into the pit of misery that had become his soul. Torchwood, though the bane of his life, was meant to be his salvation. He was meant to find a way to save the one ray of light in his life, and instead it was Torchwood that brutally tore it away from him. Again. "Why are you really here, Jack?"
"I think we both know."
"Ah, yes. Still have enough bullets in your gun to finish me off as well?" He glanced up at him again, throwing the last of the journals into the fire before he simply dumped the photographs in after. "I have been with Torchwood too long for you to Retcon me. I have seen ...too much, to simply forget it all."
Jack nodded, but his expression did not change from the stoic gaze he held on Ianto Jones. There was nothing in his gaze to give away what he intended to do with him, nothing to give any hint as to whether or not Ianto could expect a quick and silent death, or some sort of framed accident that would end him quick and violently. Either way, he hoped for the quick part to stay consistent.
"Do I get to have a drink first?" He managed to pull in a quick breath, sliding his hands into his pockets as he glanced around his sparse and poorly decorated flat.
"Yes."
"What are you going to tell my sister?"
"Does it matter?"
"No. Maybe tell her I died saving the world. She'd like that. Haven't spoken to her in so long, she wouldn't ask questions." He frowned more, if that were possible, and finally found his feet enough to be able to walk past Jack to grab his coat.
Harkness gave little more than a nod and followed after him, making sure to close the warped wooden door behind them. Ianto said nothing else as they walked, the only sound between them seemed to be the flapping of Jack's coat in the wind and the quiet squeak of leather shoes as they flexed against the pavement. The city continued to live on around them, blissfully unaware to the daily terrors that Torchwood protected them from, blissfully unaware to the things that Torchwood sacrificed so everyone else could exist within shiny little bubbles. Blissful and Unaware.
"We didn't get along at first. Lisa and Me." Ianto muttered in the silence, his hands slipping within his trouser pockets as he fought a shiver. He hadn't the foresight to change his clothing before leaving his flat and only thought of it as the damp fabric met his fingertips. The train of thought was almost amusing, that he should worry about catching a cold in the moments before his termination. "She found me ...frustrating. And then endearing. Then she became my best friend, the first person I have ever really loved."
Jack said nothing.
"I was a better person because of her. Things about me, changed, when she was around."
Jack said nothing.
"I didn't want to be without her. I was afraid of going back to how I used to be."
"There is another option, Ianto." Jack slowed his steps until they found themselves in the middle of a bridge, the breeze off the waters of Cardiff carrying sea salt on the winds. "You could continue to live, continue to remember."
"Be alone and carry with me, for the rest of my life, every moment of guilt and pain?" Ianto nearly scoffed, but found the effort to be exhausting.
"No." He shook his head, moving to lean against the railing of the bridge. Far beneath, the water churned, casting flickering reflections of the cities lights on the tips of each wave. Ianto shivered and Jack curled his fingertips together, lowering his head and closing his eyes. "Not alone."
"I would rather you shoot me." He shook his head, mentally screaming at his feet to turn and walk away. Ianto didn't want to listen to a pep talk from this man, this monster. There were no words in the whole of the universe that could fall from Jack Harkness' lips that would make Ianto Jones want to listen to any advice he had regarding the best way to deal with his current all encompassing misery.
"I can't die, Ianto." Jack glanced up and then turned to lean back against the railing, looking for the familiar reaction of confusion that everyone had when he finally told them. "Something happened a long time ago, I died...and then I woke up, and ever since... no matter what happens, I can't die."
Ianto listened.
"I have seen... a lot... of death. I have lost more people than you could ever imagine and every one of them, I remember. I remember their faces, their names, how they smelled and what their skin felt like. I remember how I felt when I was with them. How I changed, how they changed me. I have carried their memories around with me for so many years, and I am telling you that there is another option."
"How many years?"
"Hundreds."
"How many people."
"Thousands."
"You don't want to forget all the pain?"
"Never."
Ianto paused and Jack could see him shivering again. It was a decision made without thought as Jack stepped away from the railing and slid his greatcoat from his shoulders. The younger man didn't even move as he swung it over his hunched shoulders and rubbed lightly at his arms to warm him.
"Only Gwen knows...the others don't." Jack said quietly, continuing to offer vague friction to chase away the bitter cold of the Cardiff sea. "They will find out on their own terms, when they are ready."
"Why did you tell me?"
"You were ready."
They fell silent and Jack's hands moved away from Ianto's arms to slide around behind him, pulling the smaller man against his chest. It wasn't quite a hug and fell short of an embrace, but in the warmth Ianto stopped shivering. There was a torrential conflict of emotions stabbing through his mind, a whirlwind that was ripping apart the walls he built, leaving them in shattered ruins at the feet of Jack Harkness.
It was days before Ianto could bring himself to return to The Hub, and days after that before Jack would let him. There was still a lingering sense of disgust as he stepped through the cog door, and the flashing light did little else but irritate his constantly thrumming headache. But it was Jack standing behind a glass wall giving him the slightest nod that let him know all was not lost.
He would continue to live, and he would always remember Lisa Hallot. For as long as he lived, he would remember how much he loved her and everything he was willing to do to keep her close. If Jack could manage hundreds of years and thousands of lovers, he could certainly manage one love and one lifetime.
Besides, it wasn't as if he was alone.
Ianto nodded back and turned to start cleaning up.