Absent friends
A great many types of celebration crowded Jack Harkness' memory but somehow New Year always seemed to haunt him most…
He remembered New Year during the World War II – frugal and yet fun. Perhaps because people lived for the moment more, because they all mucked in and made their own fun – what was it that 'Blitz spirit' thing? – made it mean more. Maybe things would get better, the war might seem like coming to an end and hopefully loved ones would return safe and sound. "There'll be blue birds over the white cliffs of Dover, tomorrow just you wait and see…" - so often memory of Vera Lynn's voice would take him right back. Sweet Estelle, so young and pretty at that dance where they met and it felt like their affair lit up the sky. All the same Jack had had to distance himself from her because as always it would never work; she was so young, she deserved better than him, she deserved an ordinary life and the love of a good man who would grow old with her, not an immortal one who couldn't. Wartime dances made him think of the real Jack Harkness whose name he stole and the night before he died. At that dance Jack's heart ached, knowing what would happen to him, aware of the life and loves he would never have. The passionate kiss and the tears was his way of showing the airman that in just that sparse few minutes that he was loved. A few months later, that New Year he felt wretched…
Jack remembered the New Year when Alice was a year old, before her mother Lucia distanced her from the trouble that was Jack, from the trouble that was Torchwood so that she could have some semblance of a normal life. It has been one hell of a Christmas for all the wrong reasons and Lucia had screamed down the phone at Jack at how selfish he was. He got her point but decided that having latterly been a team member herself that Lucia should understand the pressures they sometimes faced. As New Year approached Jack ate humble pie, bought lots of belated presents and finally found a quiet forty-eight hours to spend with his family. After the hectic Christmas Jack was glad of the peace of spending the New Year in a proper home with Lucia and seeing his daughter's face opening presents and hearing her laugh. He never spent another year as a family…
Perhaps the most dramatic had been at the stroke of midnight at the Millennium when Alex had shot the rest of the team and then himself – leaving Jack in charge of Torchwood Cardiff; the shock and horror of that unexpected event was one that was etched deep.
Over his very long life Jack had seen all the types of New Year imaginable and he'd had fun and enjoyed it some years – caught up in everyone's hope for the future year to come. When he knew the real dangers that faced the planet it was nice to be able to stand back sometimes with everyone else and just forget and smile. Some years he had partied so hard he knew he had done it just to obliterate and forget.
He was surprised therefore, the first New Year he spent with Ianto Jones. Since Ianto was in his mid twenties Jack had assumed he'd want to go out to some party or big celebration but no, he was quite content to spend the evening at his flat with Jack, just the two of them, hoping that nothing would come through the rift and ruin it. It was quietly lovely he seemed to remember – it was just lazy sex and eating pizza and lying around watching films until five to midnight when they turned the TV over to watch the fireworks at midnight. They drank sparkling apple juice in lieu of champagne and toasted each other. Ianto hoped that, allowing for all that Torchwood faced, they'd still be alive and well at the end of it…and didn't say, but Jack could tell by his face, the look in his eyes that he hoped that Jack would properly move in with him. His Welshman so loved him it made Jack afraid of what he felt in return, of what the future did hold.
He had the right to be afraid. The next New Year was the worst ever. Ianto was dead and it was his fault and he never told him that he loved him – which hurt the most. His heart felt like it had shattered into a million pieces and he had never felt so dead inside – which was somehow ironic for a man who couldn't die. He didn't acknowledge the passing of that year.
In time the pain eased but the ache never went away. One year, cold and damp in Mermaid Quay a tall figure in an RAF greatcoat sat on a bench by the old entrance to the tourist office just before midnight. Away off in the distance he could hear the rather drunken celebrations going on in Cardiff, but down here it was quiet. Around him were the people to remember and celebrate the New Years of the past – an old photo of the real Jack Harkness, a ribbon from Estelle's hair, Alex's watch, Alice's teddy Boo-Boo, Ianto's necklace and the belt he'd worn on those damn sexy tight jeans that first night when they'd met when Jack was attacked by a weevil in Bute Park. And Jack ate pizza to remember…
He had long since left Cardiff behind and he didn't know when he'd get the time free to spend like this in the future but for now Captain Jack Harkness sat with his ghosts of the New Year around him and somehow through it all…he smiled.