"Here, Janet." Ianto tossed the resident Weevil her steak and backed out of the cells. Jack was in his bunker, asleep after a rather violent and slow death by exsanguination from some alien with sharp teeth and bad aim which Ianto had promptly shot. Not for the first time, he wished Tosh and Owen were here, some third or fourth person he could lament Jack's idiocy to. Gwen was at home with Rhys; it was her vacation day and she was only on call for major emergencies. This little sharp-toothed alien had not been a major emergency.
Ianto flopped down into the chair at Tosh's old desk. He hadn't had the heart to remove any of her little touches. The book on advanced quantum mechanics she'd been reading was still on the desk, pushed a little bit behind the computer. With one hand, he typed into the scanning system while rubbing his eyes with the other. He stared at a corner of the screen, eyes unfocussed, head in hand. Nothing was going on and holding Jack as he died and revived always scared him, and the adrenaline seeping from his body always made him tired.
Twenty minutes later, he was half-asleep when an alarm began to go off. Jerking awake, he checked the CCTV, his eyes widening when he realized what he saw. A blue box sat just beside the water tower. His eyes narrowed at the screen as a man in a brown pinstripe suit stepped out and began striding purposefully down toward the tourist centre. Ianto leapt up and ran upstairs to head him off.
The Doctor entered the little tourist information centre with a bemused smile which grew bigger when he caught sight of Ianto.
"Oh, hello! You must be Ianto Jones! Jack's talked about you quite a bit." A few months ago, Ianto would have been overjoyed by this sentence, wanting to know what was said, but too proud to ask. Now it just annoyed him.
"What is it you want, Doctor?"
The Doctor seemed a little surprised at the cool tone, but bounced back quickly. "Is Jack around? Of course he is. I was going to see if he wanted—"
"No."
"Huh?"
"No. You are not going to 'see if Jack wanted.' You are not going to go down there at all."
The Doctor frowned, looking confused. "Why?"
"You don't know? Have you any idea what you've done to him?"
"What? What have I done to him?"
"He died for you, Doctor."
"He can't die."
"Not now. He died for you back then. When you first met him. Before you had this face." Ianto gestured dismissively towards the Doctor himself. "On that GameStation. He gave his life for you, and you didn't think a thing of it. In fact, you ran away from him! Do you know how scared he was on that Station? Do you know the kinds of nightmares he has about that place? He was there for a week before he could figure out the right frequency to get to where he wanted to go."
"But that was before—"
"Before what, Doctor? You know what you did the next time you saw him? You dismissed him. You looked at him like he was nothing. And then you told him that he was wrong. That he shouldn't exist."
"How do you know all this?"
"Some of it Jack told me. Some of it Martha told me. Some of it is in the archives. And Jack talks in his sleep. He has horrible nightmares. Now shut up because I'm not done."
"You told him he was wrong. Do you know how long he waited to see if you could tell him why he is the way he is? Do you know how long he waited to ask you if you could fix him? Do you know how long it's been since he's had a normal home, since he's had a life with more happiness than loss? It's been more than a thousand years, Doctor."
"A thousand? He got stuck in 1869 after the GameStation."
"Yes. He did. And then his brother buried him under Cardiff for one thousand years. He still has blank spots in his memory sometimes. But back to the point. Do you know what happened after you told Jack he was wrong?"
"Yes." The Doctor looked sorrowful.
"Do you really? Did you see any of it? Did he tell you anything that happened to him? Were you ever there to wake him from a nightmare?" The Doctor shook his head. "Of course not. You dropped him off practically the next day, without taking the time to check if he was okay. How could you not notice there was something wrong with him? How could you not notice how damaged he was, how much pain he was in? But you know what? I did. He told me everything.
"You have no idea how much you've hurt him. He's been your most loyal companion; he's loved you the most, more than anyone in the universe. Has he ever left you? No. Has he ever doubted you? No. Has he died for you? More times than you can imagine. He created this place, this Torchwood, in your name, and you became angry at him for honouring you. What kind of legendary man are you if you can't appreciate the people—the one person—who will do anything in the world for your praise and appreciation? You're nothing compared to Jack, I don't care if you saved creation itself from oblivion. At least Jack appreciates the people who look up to him. At least Jack appreciates every human of this century except for just one or two. Now leave. Jack is asleep. He's just died, again, and I don't want anything or anyone disturbing him. I don't care what kind of universal authority you have. It's not going to work on me, so go."
The Doctor had been staring intently at Ianto, listening with increasingly sad eyes to what he had to say. Now he nodded slowly.
"All right. I like you, Ianto Jones. You're cheeky and strong-willed. I like that in a human."
"I don't care what I am. Just as long as you leave here before Jack wakes up. I don't want you to cause more commotion. We're short-manned as it is. Anyway, are you at least going acknowledge what you've done wrong? Isn't that what you do? Make people see the errors of their ways?"
"Sometimes."
"Then see the errors of yours, Doctor. See that you've damaged a man, mentally and physically, for his entire life. See that you've cursed him to eternal loss. See that you've filled him full of more nightmares and guilt than happy memories. See that you've hurt him and neglected him time and time again. And see that it's time to let him go, and let him be done hoping you'll appreciate him and being hurt every time."
"I do see that."
"Good. Then leave. If you really need to tell Jack something, I can relay a message."
"I don't need to." The Doctor was looking over Ianto's shoulder at something. Ianto turned around to find Jack just behind him, staring at him with affection and an emotion that Ianto couldn't yet place. Then Jack's gaze drifted to the Doctor, and his face took on a more tired, pained expression, like the one he wore after a day full of deaths or when a painful memory suddenly resurfaced. Ianto wondered if the Doctor could see the change.
"Goodbye, Doctor."
"Goodbye, Jack. Keep an eye on him, Ianto."
Ianto raised a sceptical eyebrow, still glaring. "I always have, Doctor. And I will for as long as I can. I don't need anyone to tell me that."
The Doctor nodded, acknowledging Ianto's position, and backed out of the tourist centre. Ianto watched him retreat with narrowed eyes, until he couldn't see the man anymore. Then he finally relaxed.
"Wow, Ianto." Jack put a hand on Ianto's shoulder, who turned, acutely aware of the Captain's hand heavy on his arm.
"I'm not going to apologize, Jack. He's hurt you so many times. I don't know if you've seen your face, but I have. You and Martha have told me so much. And your nightmares tell me even more. Jack, the Doctor is poison to you. I know you will always love him more than anyone else, but he's hurting you. And I don't want to see you hurt like that again, not while I'm alive."
"I wasn't going to ask you to apologize. I want to thank you. I'm glad someone looks after me. Hell knows I don't do it."
Ianto nodded once. "I don't want you to be hurting any more than you already do."
They were looking into each other's eyes, much too close. Jack's fingers tightened on Ianto's shoulder, affection and pain and fear and dark memories of too many pasts swirling his eyes. Ianto watched the affection and fear grow and war in the blue. "Oh, hell, Ianto. I just—"
The alarm sounded and both men nearly sighed in relief. Despite the fact that Ianto loved his Captain more than he ever thought was possible, adoration warred with dignity inside him and he didn't think he'd be able to stand any declarations. And Jack, well, despite Jack's incredible capacity to love, he'd never been good at relationships or pronouncements of emotion.
"Weevil alert." Jack remarked.
Ianto sighed, helping Jack into his coat and taking the chance to smooth the fabric down his arms. "Just another day at Torchwood."