Fic: Empty Chairs At Empty Tables
Author: Cait (aka ADDyke)
Pairing/Characters: Jack/Ianto, Gwen
Spoilers: Season Two Finale – 2.13 Exit Wounds
Rating: PG13
Warnings: Heavy, heavy angst.
Summary: Ianto is stopping Torchwood from falling apart, but who is going to do the same for him?
DISCLAIMER: Torchwood, Dr Who and all their characters and associated creations do not belong to me – they belong to Auntie Beeb who rob me blind with the telly licence fee, and Russell T Davies, and his fantastic writing team and cast – which is why they live in nice posh flats and I live in a crappy med res room living on baked beans (thus I'm making no money from this). The plot however is 'mine all mine'.
Author's Notes: This is the obligatory post-Exit Wounds fic, guys – all part of the grieving process. My best friend (who is a musical nut!) had a weird thought of Ianto singing 'Empty Chairs At Empty Tables' from Les Mes when I was telling him about the plot ideas for this thus the title. He also gave me the kind permission to bomb his hometown in this fic as well (read on, you'll get it) so I dedicate this to him – you know you are – this one's for you!
All feedback much appreciated.
It was a chair that finally broke him.
An empty chair at an empty desk.
Toshiko's desk.
It was a Monday morning, as normal as life seemed to get these days, and he was passing Jack his coffee.
Exactly 35 minutes, eight hours and thirty days after she died in Jack's arms.
It suddenly hit him, right in the gut, with as much as force as the bullet that killed her.
He blindly looked around the Hub, taking nothing in, except the empty autopsy bay, and the empty chair at Tosh's empty desk.
He struggled to breathe, to get oxygen into his lungs, as one by one the walls he had build up to get through the past four weeks suddenly imploded.
They're gone.
"I'll be in archives, Jack…" He managed to say, before turning around and walking as briskly as he could to the appropriate tunnel and as soon as he was out of Gwen and Jack's earshot, he broke into a run.
They're dead.
While Jack dealt with his brother, it was Ianto who had to carry Toshiko Sato's body to the morgue, Gwen by his side.
Everything else could wait to the morning, but Tosh deserved much more dignity than being left on a cold tiled floor all night.
Sadly all Ianto had to offer her was a mortuary drawer and all the care and reverence he could give her.
Gwen tried to help, but Ianto took over most of the work. The only sounds in the morgue were the scratching of his fountain pen on paper, and Gwen's sobs.
He looks at her, offering her a sad smile of reassurance and comfort. He wishes he could cry as freely as she could but he had a job to do.
Undertaker. He was Torchwood's undertaker, and these bodies were his charges, be they alien or human, innocent or guilty, foe or dear, dear friend. All treated with his quiet respect. This was no time for his tears – there would be time for crying later.
He looked up at Jack as he joined them, his eyes red.
"That's the paperwork for Gray…" Jack placed the clipboard on the small desk at the side of the morgue. "… John's gone."
Ianto simply nodded as he filled out Toshiko Sato's death certificate.
Death by gunshot.
Those three words weren't enough to describe the devastation, the void left in their lives.
At least they had Tosh's body to mourn, and she had not died alone.
He didn't want to think about Owen. Alone at the reactor. Knowing exactly what death was like.
Ianto made a mental note to contact the HAZMAT team dealing with the reactor in the morning. He knew it would probably be months before they could reach the control chamber where Owen was, he doubted there would be any remains, but if there were, they should be returned to Torchwood. Where Dr Owen Harper had given so much of himself to.
Ianto felt Jack's hand squeezing his shoulder, clinging to him for support as he covered Tosh's peaceful face for the last time and zipped close the bag. The tears ran down Gwen's face as he closed the door.
Jack held her in his arms as Ianto offered her his handkerchief and then his arm, both she accepted gratefully.
"I'll ring Rhys, get him to take you home…" He said softly "…we'll sort everything in the morning."
That night, when Gwen was seeking comfort in her husband's arms, Jack was losing himself in Ianto, hoping that every kiss, every thrust, would erase every death, every tear. Hungrily trying to remap, re-learn every inch of Ianto's body, afraid he was going to lose him too. Nearly two thousand years of craving the touch of a lover. The tears ran down both men's cheeks as they tried to seek reassurance in each other's bodies, and as Jack lay trembling, crying in Ianto's arms, Ianto found himself whispering "It will be alright. It will be alright…"
He didn't know who he was lying to – Jack or himself…
Gwen's breakdown began exactly two hours after they had seen Toshiko's final log-out message. Ianto was hoping to slip away quietly, to the archives, or the tourist office. Somewhere on his own, so he could let out a few of the tears he had been swallowing down all morning, but as Gwen practically exploded it was obvious that wasn't going to happen.
"I want out, Jack!" She was screaming "I can't do this anymore!"
"Gwen, you're upset. We all are." Jack said, hands reaching for her, hoping that the physical contact will calm her down. "You're not thinking straight…"
"Oh yes I am – I have Rhys to think about…" Gwen shouted, resisting the offered hug.
"And what about us? We've lost two team members less than twenty-four hours ago!" Jack's voice had risen another ten decibels and Ianto rose from his desk, knowing that he was going to have to step in at any moment.
"Exactly! Tell me honestly that it isn't going to me..." Gwen pointed to Ianto with force "… or Ianto next! Can you guarantee that to me, Captain Harkness!"
Jack couldn't look at her, so Ianto stepped in, touching her arm.
"C'mon Gwen, you need a break – some fresh air."
She stomped out grabbing her jacket along the way.
Jack gave Ianto a pointed look.
"I'll talk to her, Jack…" Ianto sighed, before following her.
He found her standing in the tourist office. Her rage had deflated and she was simply crying now.
"I can't do it anymore, Ianto…" She sobbed.
Ianto set up a few of the alarms and opened the door for her "A walk will do you good."
Ianto walked silently by her side, both letting their feet carry them in no particular direction. Ianto stopped at a chippy van on route, and somehow, with a bag of chips each burning their hands, they ended up at the railings overlooking the bay.
"You're going to be the ruin of me, Ianto Jones, all this fattening food…" Gwen tasted a chip, wincing as it burnt her tongue "… haven't you heard of Weightwatchers?"
He smirked weakly "You don't need to be on Weightwatchers…"
They stood in silence, eating their chips, watching the boats making their way back and forth across the bay.
"It does get easier." Ianto finally said. "Dealing with this job. With losing people."
Gwen looked at him "How could it?"
"Toshiko Sato, Owen Harper, Suzie Costello…" He paused for a moment, to compose himself "… Lisa Hallet, Bev Stanley, Martin Reece, Tracy Turner, Caitlin Malone, Toby Winchester and nearly 800 other people at Canary Wharf, Captain Jack Harkness countless times. So many people I've worked with have died for Torchwood, and there has been so many times I've thought that I couldn't take it any more…"
"How can you take it?" Gwen asked, her head still reeling from that list.
"Because this is my job, Gwen, my life. I have to for the sake of everyone in this city, on this planet." Ianto looked at her "So do you. You saved so many people last night. By organising the police, by keeping your head while everyone else is losing theirs…"
"That didn't help Tosh or Owen…"
"No. But they died to save these people's lives too. And the Rift isn't going to go away because they're not here. If you weren't here."
There was an uneasy silence.
"And Jack would miss you, more than he would ever let on." Ianto turned away from the railing. "I would too."
They headed back to the Hub in silence, Ianto taking a couple minutes in the Tourist Office before following her down. So many people, in such a short period of time…
He had lied through his teeth – it never got any easier, at least not for him. Who was he trying to convince?
Jack looked up as Ianto entered the Hub and Ianto could tell he had been crying again. He made his way back to his desk, back to work and only looked up again when Jack squeezed his shoulder.
"Thank you, Ianto."
When Jack broke down it was with less explosive force than Gwen.
But the ramifications were much more catastrophic.
Five days after Tosh and Owen had died, there was a Weevil sighting in Butetown. And neither Jack nor Ianto had ever been the type to turn down a good old-fashioned Weevil hunt.
"Take our minds off things…" Jack said as Ianto caught the can of Weevil spray that Jack had thrown at him.
That was all Ianto seemed to do these days, find something to do to take his mind off things. Rewiring the computer system that Gray had destroyed, co-ordinating the efforts to rebuild the city, feeding the terrorist attack cover story to the press, supporting Gwen, who was still ready to leave at the drop of a hat.
He had to keep working. For his own sake more than anyone else's.
They finally caught up with the Weevil in an alleyway behind a kebab shop, the smell of stale fat mixing with the sewer smell that always seemed follow a Weevil around. Jack and Ianto cornered the Weevil in a well-versed pincher movement – this was a dance they both could never forget the steps to. Jack was actually laughing, caught up in the adrenaline of the hunt.
"In no mood tonight – you are not getting away, you glorified sewer rat!"
Jack followed the Weevil over the piles of cardboard boxes and rubbish skips, disturbing a real nest of rats on the way, trying to chase it back to ground level so Ianto could complete the catch.
The Weevil had landed on the ground, bearing its teeth. As Ianto moved in, a can of Weevil spray in one hand and handcuffs in the other, Jack fell back into an open skip.
The force caused the lid of the skip to fall shut, trapping Jack inside.
Ianto subdued and sedated the Weevil, but he tried to cuff its clawed hands he heard the screams and the banging.
"IANTO! IANTO! GET ME OUT! HELP ME! IANTO! HELP ME, PLEASE!"
Leaving the bound, subdued Weevil on the ground, Ianto rushed over to the skip and wretched the lid open.
"Jack!"
Jack struggled to his feet and grasped Ianto's arms. He was coughing, gasping but it was almost as if he was trying to force cold, hard clay into his lungs rather than oxygen.
"Ianto…" He managed to gasp.
"I'm here, Jack… I'm here…"
Somehow Ianto managed to help Jack out of the skip and bundle both his deadweight and an unconscious Weevil into the SUV.
The drive to the Hub was some of the longest ten minutes of Ianto's life. Jack had stopped gasping for air, and was now sat beside him, staring into nothingness.
As he lead Jack back into the Hub Ianto wanted to tend to him right away, but there was a Weevil in the boot whose sedation was about to wear off, Gwen had gone home and Ianto was not about to call her in just to handle a Weevil.
He guided Jack to the sofa and sat him down.
"I'll be right back, Jack…" Ianto caressed his cheeks, but Jack showed no reaction. Ianto had never felt so completely alone, he was carrying Torchwood on his own, and he missed Tosh and Owen so much…
He dealt with the recently awakened Weevil as quickly and efficiently as he could, practically throwing it into the cell next to Janet.
"Janet, say hello, Brad." He quipped to no-one in particular, trying to steel himself for dealing with his broken captain upstairs.
He remembered what John had told them, about Jack being buried alive by his own brother. To ask Jack to cope with that as well as losing Tosh and Owen - his recruits – at Gray's hands, was asking too much.
Ianto made them both a coffee and sat beside Jack, guiding the coffee cup into Jack's hands.
And he sat in silence, waiting for Jack to speak, to take the lead.
That was always Gwen's mistake, peppering Jack with questions that he would dodge like bullets, his defences up.
Jack was exceptionally skilled at avoiding the issue.
Ianto knew that Jack would speak, would finally say what he needed to say, in time.
Even if it took all night.
The coughing, the gasping started again, and the only thing Ianto could think to do was to gently rub his back, whispering "I'm here, Jack. I'm here."
Ianto Jones could think up a solution to nearly every situation, but there was no solution to this one.
And he hated being so helpless…
Eventually Jack's breathing levelled out, but the tension never left his shoulders.
"The Weevil…" Jack finally spoke, his voice hoarse and tired.
"In the Vaults."
Jack took a sip of the rapidly cooling coffee, wincing in disgust.
"I can still taste it, the clay, the soil…I can't get rid of the taste of minerals in my mouth…"
Ianto stayed silent – this was not the time to speak, it was time to listen, to be there.
"I kept coming back at first, that taste of soil, packed into my mouth, the earth weighing on my chest…"
Looking at the horror Jack's face at that moment, Ianto knew exactly why most people's darkest fear was being buried alive.
"I think I only came back about ten times in that grave… my body just gave up, lay there waiting, but ten times was enough…"
He took a breath, and another sip of coffee.
"I came round again as Torchwood dug me up… then I really thought I was in Hell, coming back and that bitch's face is the first thing I see…"
He let out a small giggle, and Ianto looked at him questioningly.
"Alice Guppy." Jack said.
Ianto gave a small nod of recognition "Ahhh - Torchwood operative 1897 – 1908, she had a - how to word this nicely – a reputation…"
"And she deserved it."
The uneasy silence descended again, and Ianto brewed them both another cup of coffee.
"I let go of his hand."
Ianto sat back down again, once again Jack's silent support.
"My father's last words to me – look after Gray… I couldn't even do that right…"
The tears came without warning. "Toshiko and Owen are dead, half the city is in ruins and it's all my fault! Because I let go of his hand!"
His voice now rose to fill the empty Hub "I did my penance! Why them? It was nothing to do with them!"
Ianto grabbed Jack's hand "Jack, Gray was mad… and mad men don't discriminate…"
"And whose fault is that, Ianto? Who abandoned him?"
He started gasping for air again and Ianto was scared now. Owen would know what to do, a sedative, medication –something!
But Owen wasn't there. He was never going to be there.
There was only Ianto.
"I did my penance…" Jack whispered.
Then Jack just broke…
And all Ianto could do was hold him, hold him like he was never going to let go.
Penance without absolution is meaningless suffering, and as Gray was never going to give him absolution, Ianto had to help Jack find someway to absolve himself.
Otherwise Ianto was going to lose him too.
Life goes on.
In the weeks that followed Tosh and Owen's deaths, Ianto tried desperately to hold his colleagues together, to hold Torchwood together, ignoring the fact he was barely able to cope himself.
He hadn't even cried yet, not properly. He wanted to. The tears just wouldn't come out.
During the day, his main worry was Gwen. Jack would sometimes have a flashback and stand frozen in the middle of the Hub, gasping for air. Ianto could now see the flashbacks coming on, and was at his side in an instant, a firm hand on his back and a few reassuring words in his ear. Slowly Jack's breathing would return to normal and he would go back to talking like he was before.
Gwen couldn't get through the day without sobbing uncontrollably, and was unable to accept Owen's death. She had been with Tosh when she had died, had helped lay her in the morgue, had the closure from her log-out message.
There was no body for Owen, and the fact that he was technically already dead before he had even entered the nuclear bunker had filled Gwen with a blind hope that was breaking all their hearts.
Ianto knew it was her affair with Owen that was causing her to react like this – the one thing that had always cast a shadow over their friendship.
Slowly, over much rich tea and sympathy (and a lot of Kleenex) provided by Ianto, she was starting to accept he wasn't coming back.
She had to, for her own sake.
As concern for Gwen filled Ianto's days, it was Jack who filled Ianto's nights.
Swinging desperately from anger and rage to deep, dark depression, Jack's pain took over the small hours and there was nothing Ianto could do except be there for him, to guide him to the next dawn.
In putting Gwen and Jack back together, Ianto was starting to crack himself. He had lost track of the amount of times he stopped himself from saying something, Tosh or Owen's name on his lips, convinced they were still there. His hands still shook when he made the coffee and went to take Tosh's mug from the shelf, and had to bite his tongue from automatically adding Tosh's Veggie Special to the group pizza order. He had bought The Lancet, BMJ and FHM for Owen while doing the grocery shopping and hadn't realised until he was putting the groceries away and found them in a carrier bag with a loaf of bread. He just stood there the magazines in his hands, not knowing what to do.
Three weeks after they died, and the world was ending again.
Or least it was going to if they couldn't find this alien bomb and get it defused.
The tracker was bleeping loudly and Jack was driving like a bat out of Hell, heading to a commuter town on the outskirts of Cardiff. Ianto was trying to get as much information on the device as possible, using every trick that Tosh had ever taught him whilst Gwen was trying to get South Wales Police to evacuate the retail park where the tracker signal was coming from. The police obviously were taking objection to orders from the Cardiff big shot, and that was before she even mentioned Torchwood.
"Must we really save Llantrisant? I think the aliens would be doing everyone a favour by blowing it up." She said as she got off the phone to the police.
"The data I'm getting is showing that the device is advanced enough to take out the entire of South Wales, ripping the Rift to pieces and obliterating Newport, Cardiff and Swansea…" Ianto said "…not that anyone would miss Swansea that much."
That earned him a cuff across the ear from Gwen.
"Behave, kids…" Jack laughed as he terrorised the dual carriageway.
This was a new thing, the laughing, the joking. It felt so uncomfortable at first, almost disrespectful.
The SUV pulled into the car park, where a crowd of onlookers had gathered behind a cordon.
"Where's the bomb, Ianto?" Jack asked as he emerged from the car, his RAF greatcoat bellowing behind him.
Ianto looked around him, relating the coordinates on the tracker in his hands to the buildings around him.
He pointed straight ahead. "NEXT – first floor."
"Right, Gwen make sure everyone has been evacuated, and get that cordon back another fifty metres – Ianto with me…"
Gwen went straight into action, starting to direct the officers on scene "Right, we need everyone to move back now and someone to confirm the evac…"
Jack and Ianto surveyed the deserted clothing store, Ianto following the signal.
"Found it, Jack!" He pushed a clothing display out of the way to reveal a far too intricately wired bomb. He dropped the rucksack – Owen's rucksack – and started pulling out wire cutters and other equipment, handing them to Jack like a theatre nurse to a surgeon. Jack would look to him for guidance as they quickly tried to defuse the bomb.
Toshiko was the genius, her brilliance shone as she dealt with every technical problem in her wake – she could have defused this bomb while popping her mascara on in the morning. Ianto just saw himself as a sponge for information, but somewhere along the way Tosh had taught him more than enough to tackle this bomb.
And he wasn't a stranger to a pair of wire cutters either.
As the detonator light blinked and went out, Ianto saw something shine in Jack's eyes as he declared on the comm. "End of the world averted, Gwen."
It wasn't absolution but it was a start.
"Nice work, Ianto…"
"I learnt from the best…"
Jack's flashbacks became more and more infrequent, and he no longer tormented himself nightly. Gwen had managed to get through several days without sobbing or threatening to leave. They were starting to move on so… why now?
Ianto kept running until he reached a dead end, breathless, clammy and completely breaking down.
Empty chairs at empty tables…
So many faces swam around his head. Toshiko. Owen. Lisa. Martin and Tracy and Caitlin and so many others.
He remembered the smell of blood and metal and gunshot residue and bile rose in his throat. He threw up until there was nothing left in his stomach, and then dry heaved until he was in agony.
He kicked the side of a filing cabinet "Why them? Why not me? Why do I always survive?"
He wrung his hands in his hair, struggled to loosen his tie and his voice broke "It should have been me."
He stood with his back to the damp wall, and as his knees gave way he slid to the floor. Arms around his knees, he curled up and the tears he had been swallowing up for a month started to burn his eyes like acid.
He should have been at that reactor, not Owen. Tosh was his partner that day, he should have been looking after her. How did he manage to avoid Cybermen and Daleks as Canary Wharf burned around him, and Lisa couldn't? Why was he never there?
He couldn't take it anymore, losing anyone else…
And he missed them all so much…
When Jack found Ianto, he was in the foetal position on the floor of an archive room, physically trembling. The sight was far too familiar, far too close to the broken man weeping in a puddle of blood, in the shadow of a cyber-conversion unit.
Jack sat beside him, tried to hold him but Ianto was so wrapped up in a ball of grief and guilt, he barely noticed he was there.
Jack just sat with him, as his heartbreaking sobs filled the room.
Gwen watched in horror from a doorway, as Ianto Jones, the backbone of Torchwood, the one who kept them going during the month from Hell, completely and utterly shattered.
Because of an empty chair at an empty desk.
The End