-1A/N: Let me know what you guys think!! I didn't want to use flashbacks to tell some of the story, so lemme know if making it all a thought process/stream of consciousness works for you guys! Thanks! Oh, and sorry about the underlining that had happened the previous chapter, something happened when I transferred the file to .
Thanks everyone for reviewing the last chapter!! It was helpful and appreciated, if not for the simple fact that it alerted me to the underline deal, and also encouraged me to put up another chapter.
Disclaimer: I've run out of creative ways to say I am not making money off of this and these characters are totally not mine.
Ianto stood on the roof, desperately trying to get inside Jack's head. Realizing, of course, that this was exactly what had gotten him into trouble in the first place. He never should have told Jack his secret-that he knew and understood Jack's every thought. OK, that was a lie. But he knew enough, more than Jack knew he knew. And Ianto understood. He really did.
And in his anger, he had let Jack know, breaking his cardinal rule: never tell Jack. That was the arrangement. Jack dumped all his shit on him, and Ianto used his best discretion whether or not to let others in on it. Like when Gwen went asking around about the missing persons. Ianto had decided that she ought to know. And he told her. And he'd been right, too. But he hadn't told Jack about his decision. He never told Jack. Jack of course had found out, but Ianto hadn't told him. He never told Jack. Anything. Not secret truths about himself, not about his deep problems, not about his secret hopes and his secret fears. That wasn't how this worked. If Jack noticed something was wrong with Ianto, he'd distract him. Not that Ianto was complaining. Jack was very good at distractions.
But he still had to wonder how Jack hadn't figured out Ianto's secret. That Ianto could empathize, could understand Jack. How did he think Ianto knew exactly when, where, and what Jack needed? But being taken for granted was a part of their relationship. Ianto didn't mind. He really didn't. Ianto prided himself on his discretion, on his secrets, on his amazing ability to go unnoticed. It's what got him a job at Torchwood London in the first place. It's what let him hide Lisa. He knew how people thought. He never turned off the cameras when he checked on her. That would have been suspicious. There was no reason for the others to check the CCTV on an ordinary day. So he had let it well enough alone. And it was the same with Jack. Ianto didn't want to talk about his past, didn't want Jack asking. And Jack never did. Instead, he told Ianto about his problems, his deals. Ianto liked it that way.
He knew Jack loved him. Well, he knew that Jack loved him as much as Jack could love anybody. He Jack-loved him. And what the hell, why not go ahead and make it a verb. It's about time the English language had a word for that anyways-for the ability to love someone as much as you are capable, even if it isn't the fullness of love. And what was English good for if not making up words. English, Ianto thought, is a language with one sole redeeming quality: adaptability. And why not name it after the one person who truly knew the definition. Jack couldn't afford to love. It must be far too painful for him, and he had no release. So, he Jack-loved. And Ianto could accept that. It's one of the things he loved about Jack, even if it was the one thing he wished he could change.
But Ianto wasn't stupid. He knew he'd either die or grow old and die. Either way, unless he pulled some magical or supernatural live forever trick, he was ending up dead. And far before Jack. And Ianto wouldn't wish that on Jack. He wouldn't wish that on his worst enemy, let alone on the man he loved. He couldn't ask him to truly, deeply, with everything he had love him. That would be too hard for Jack. Because if Jack loved him with everything that he had, when he died, Jack would lose the better part of himself. And Ianto knew how much hurt Jack would feel at his death, how much pain Jack felt watching Tosh slip away and knowing that Owen was dead. Ianto had seen the look in Jack's eyes the first time they thought Owen was dead. Their deaths were painful enough, and Ianto loathed to add his own to the pile, but it was inevitable. And it would cause Jack a great deal of anguish. And Ianto knew. And Jack didn't know Ianto knew. Because he'd learned the lesson while Jack was away.
One day while Jack was gone, there had been an unusual amount of fires around Cardiff. When he had looked into it, the reports from the witnesses of the fires had all claimed that they had seen a small child who had appeared, burnt bright, and then disappeared in an instant. Some witnesses even reported seeing wings on the girl. So, of course, Torchwood investigated.
They basically ran around Cardiff blind, hoping to find the next fire before it happened. And one day, Ianto got lucky. He saw a small girl-with wings, no less- appear before him, and burst into flames. Without thinking, he'd grabbed her hand. He remembered feeling a pulling sensation, and then the feel of your stomach dropping out from under you like on a roller coaster. And then the thump of him hitting the ground, and the girl, falling from the pull of his hand onto his stomach. She kicked at him, and he tried to contain her, to tell her he wasn't going to hurt her-to calm her down. But she got loose and bolted. He ran after her.
When he finally caught up with her, she was huddling in a corner, crying. It had taken Ianto a few tries to get her to talk, but this was his skill. He could take care of anybody. And he had. And she had told him her story.
Or tried to. She couldn't really speak English, and he clearly couldn't speak her language. But, she could hand gesture with the best of them, and apparently some gestures really were universal. He got the jist of her story.
She was just a lost little girl. With a name. A lost little girl whose name was Maylin. Or at least he thought that was her name, for all he knew it could've been her word for "hungry" or "tired' or "shoulder". But she had pointed at herself and said repeatedly "Maylin". And he had pointed at himself and repeatedly said "Ianto". And when she would tell her story, she would occasionally pause and look at him and say "Ianto" to clarify one point or another. Who knows, maybe maylin was her word for "understand" and she thought "Ianto" was his. But, at least he had something to call her.
She must have gotten pulled into the rift from some other planet somehow and had landed here. She didn't know where her parents where, and she was so confused. And she didn't know why she kept bursting into flames.
So, Ianto took her back to the hub. After sorting through the archives and some of Jack's own personal additions to them, he finally recognized her species. It was one Jack had been familiar with in his own century. They were called Zelditz. They were creatures that burst into flames as a defense mechanism, but did not develop the skill until mid childhood (right before puberty) , and then it was generally out of control until they were either taught to control it, or more commonly when they hit puberty. Ianto had also noted, with amusement, that the reason this species was so well known is that their home planet was also a popular tourist planet and was closed for a week or two every three months or so. Their species apparently could only mate and birth at certain seasons, so they all reached mid childhood together. It was convenient, he thought, it spared the tourists from being singed.
Unfortunately, Ianto did not know how to teach Maylin to control her abilities. And Cardiff couldn't take another four days of random fires, nor could the Hub afford to catch fire. So, Ianto had taken Maylin's hand, told her they were going on an adventure, and took her down to the basement. They went to the cells. And Ianto knew that. But he also knew they were fireproof. He just hoped she wouldn't be too scared of Janet.
When they got there, Maylin seemed hesitant. Ianto tried to explain to her that the she had to stay here for a little while, that it was safe, and that he'd make her as comfortable as possible, and that it could even be a little fun. But the archives said very little about language, and he only knew a few words. He knew fun. Typical of a tourist planet. And comfortable had been included, as well as safe. But he had no idea of how to say sorry or temporary. He knew the word for forever and always, but had no clue how to indicate the negative.
But they had managed, in their own little way, and in the end she acquiesced to being put in the cell. He had stayed there with her, at first. Of course, he'd had to leave the cell when she burst into flames. Fortunately, there was a 30 second gap where she seemed to realize what was happening and to warn him out of the cell. Although the first time it had happened, he had barely recognized the warning early enough. But he'd sat with her.
He had sung songs- in English and in Welsh, just like his mother had with him. He was trying to get her to go to sleep. And in what must have been two hours, he had.
He had quietly tucked out of the cell and gone upstairs, where the others were returning from their fruitless searches. Realizing he hadn't informed them that he'd found the girl, he apologized and then explained the situation. Gwen, of course, volunteered also to sit with her, and Ianto informed all of them of her warning signal to get clear.
Over the next week, they had all taken turns with Maylin, when they could. But Ianto stuck around her the most. He even took to doing a good majority of his paper work with her. He even slept there that week. And over the week, they had started to form a mixture of their two languages. Him slowly understanding her words, and her quickly picking up on his.
And then one day the next week, she informed him (in broken English) that she could control her power. He even got a demonstration. So, they let her out, and since she had nowhere to stay, she stayed with them, in Jack's room.
The next three months she had become a common part of the Hub. She helped Ianto make the coffee (and picked up his slack when he had field duties), she cleaned up, she told jokes (her English got quite good, and she even picked up a little welsh), she even developed an amazing talent for art. And Ianto (who refused to leave the Hub because he had too much work, but mostly in case Jack came back) had been with her for most of that. She had even painted a picture of him and an artist's conception of Jack. Ianto had told her stories about Jack, he had become a kind of mythological hero to her-the Man Who Could Never Die. And the two of them had become good friends. Ianto loved her as a daughter.
But she had grown old in those months. And Ianto had known she would too, it had said in the file. And towards the end of her third month at Torchwood, she died. And Ianto had been there for that, too. He had watched as her hands grew shaky, as she had trouble recalling facts, as her English went from broken to good to broken again. He watched as she could no longer draw the likeness of things to perfection, he watched as she struggled to hold a cup of coffee still. He watched as stooping over to pick up a piece of trash become difficult or painful. He watched her journey from youthful optimism to tired. She grew tired. And she could no longer bounce around the hub as she had weeks previously. She stayed in bed most of the day and watch a television in a language she could just only remember.
Ianto had sat with her in her last hours-late at night. The others had gone home, having already said goodbye-or refusing to deal with her death. He remembered laughing inside during their last conversation. She had told him that she led a good life. She told him that her only regret was not having children. But she told him that it was a sacrifice she could live with to experience what she had experienced. Her planet was also not yet a space faring planet, although they weren't far off. He told her she never would have gotten to see such wonders and that she could have only dreamed of other life and other planets outside her own. And she told him that she loved him. And he told her that he loved her. And with that exchange, she died after her next breath.
Later, Owen confirmed in the autopsy that she had died of old age.
Ianto laughed bitterly then, remembering her final words. She had not lived a full life, she had barely lived at all. Not wanting to deal with anything, he hid himself away in what had been her room. Once in there, he sadly remembered it had been Jack's room. Two mourned souls. He glanced around the room before plopping himself on the bed. And as he did, a picture fell from the wall. It was one Maylin had drawn of him and the mythical Jack. And on the back it was labeled: Ianto and Jack- The Man Who Can Never Die. And it hit Ianto like millions of tons of bricks. This is what Jack experienced every time. Every time someone he loved died, he knew that he would have to carry on for lifetimes without them-maybe even forever. Maylin had lived a grand total of four months-and that was a full life span for her. Four months. There are three sets of four months in a year. If he died of old age, he'd live 80 years. He'd live 240 lifetimes compared to her. The thought made Ianto burst into tears. 240 more lifetimes without her. She had died in the blink of an eye, and he'd live 240 more times as her. And Jack-Jack had done this every fifty years or so for who knows how long. Or worse. Knowing his lifestyle, people probably came in and out of his life every ten years, or maybe even five.
And Ianto had felt the pain quite keenly then at Maylin's death. But he had also felt a slight sense of relief that his abandonment was justifiable. That he understood. At that moment, Ianto was willing to do anything to spare anyone else this pain, especially Jack. And if Jack had to run to escape it, then Ianto understood.
Of course, Jack had come back. And standing on that roof, Ianto remembered why. "For you.". And, that had meant everything. The possibility that Jack thought that Ianto was worth all that pain. Again.
Ianto accepted Jack's love, his Jack-love. He understood why Jack had to be the way he was. Ianto was just never going to tell Jack that he knew.