Three
Ianto identifies the next time period he's dropped into quickly. He's seen enough pictures in the archives to recognize the local dress and the area around the Quay. He's in the late 19th century, Victorian Era Cardiff, but there's no sign of Jack. So Ianto settles on a bench to catch his breath. His skin is tingling from his trips through the Rift, and he's starting to feel disoriented, tired, even a bit hungry. Maybe he'll meet a version of Jack who'll take him out for fish and chips.
A bitter laugh escapes his lips as he remembers complaining to Mandy about that very thing, Jack buying him dinner. He'd told her that his boss was a monster, killing people without even giving them a chance. Which was yet another reason he'd let Jack fall through the Rift: to save the world from the murdering bastard. How quickly he'd changed his mind, though. Ianto was still trying to understand it himself. One minute he'd been ridiculously relieved to be free of Jack and Torchwood, the next minute he'd hung up on his mother and raced back in to try to save the man he'd just sentenced to death.
He's stopped from once more examining his motivations that night by a loud grunt, an extremely coarse curse, and the sound of a nearby door slamming hard. Then Jack storms by, muttering under his breath and kicking at the ground. Ianto jumps up, but the man doesn't notice him at all, so Ianto follows behind him. He wants to approach Jack, but the man is clearly upset about something, and Ianto decides to wait. He follows Jack to a pub, and the irony is not lost on him, that they seem to be developing a history with pubs.
Jack orders a drink and slams it back. Ianto casually sits down next to him and is about to order the same—whatever it is since it's clearly not water and he's so thirsty he doesn't care—when he realizes he has no money for the time period, and covers his request with a cough. It catches both the barmaid and Jack's attention.
"Sorry, no money," Ianto mutters to the barmaid.
"Not a problem," says Jack, holding up an envelope. "I've got plenty." He motions to the barmaid—god, she looks like a younger version of Mandy and how unfair is that?—and orders whisky for them both.
"Thanks," says Ianto, and he is more grateful than he should be. He's also thirsty and maybe a stiff drink will help settle his nerves. "I needed this."
"Me too," says Jack, clinking his glass. Their eyes meet and Jack frowns. "Have we met before?"
Ianto laughs into his glass. "I've no idea anymore. I've met you several times, but you never seem to remember me, so I'm not sure it's happened for you yet."
Jack freezes and stares at him. "Time travel?"
"Yep," Ianto replies. Something like hope passes across Jack's face, and he grabs Ianto's hand, dragging him toward a table in the back.
"Two more and some food," he calls to the barmaid. Ianto is both mystified and bemused as Jack almost throws him into a booth and sits across from him, looking excited. He is also extremely distracted by Jack's ridiculous sideburns.
"Do you have a vortex manipulator?" Jack asks quietly. "Can you get me out of here?"
Ianto's heart sinks. "I was actually going to ask you the same thing—can you get me back to my time? And what's a vortex manipulator?"
Jack stares at him for so long Ianto knows he's said the wrong thing. Finally Jack sighs, finishes his drink, and reaches for the third one the barmaid places on the table. When he glances back up at Ianto, his face is indescribably sad.
"It's this," Jack replies quietly, showing him his wrist strap. "It's how I traveled through time, once, only mine doesn't work anymore. Burned out years ago."
"Years ago…" Ianto trails off at the implication. "You mean, you've been stuck here?"
"For decades," Jack replies bitterly. "I was hoping to meet someone here, someone who could help me, but I've waited for so long I'm starting to think he forgot about me."
It clicks immediately for Ianto. "The Doctor, you're waiting for the Doctor."
"You know him?" Jack asks, his excitement and hope flaring once more. "Can you contact him? I need to find him!"
"I don't know him, I'm sorry," Ianto replies, shaking his head and feeling even worse. Jack appears devastated. "But I know you traveled with him. Did you get separated?"
"You could say that," Jack replies bitterly. "He left me behind. He probably thought I was dead, but I wasn't, and when I teleported here hoping to find him my manipulator burned out."
"How long have you been waiting?" Ianto can't help but ask, dreading the answer.
"Forty years," Jack replies. He slumps in his seat, rubbing his eyes. "Forty fucking years, and not a word. Nothing. I'm stuck on this god-forsaken ball of dirt, alone."
"My god," Ianto whispers. He's horrified to learn that Jack has spent so much time alone, waiting for help from someone who abandoned him and forgot him. And then something occurs to Ianto… "Forty years? You look…well, good. Not much older than the last time I saw you."
Jack knocks back the rest of his drink and grins, but it's not the happy, carefree grin, it's the broken, bitter one. "I'm much more complicated than I look."
Ianto blinks, because he'd said almost the same thing to Jack a week ago at another pub. Everyone on the team knew Jack was more complicated than any of them, but Ianto was only now starting to understand just how much more. Time traveler. Former companion to the Doctor. Strangely long lived. And, judging by yet another whisky set at his elbow, quite possibly an alcoholic. Well, Ianto could certainly relate to the last.
"So when did you last meet me?" Jack asks. Ianto toys with his glass, Jack motions for another, and when it arrives, Ianto takes a long sip before he answers, throwing caution to the wind when it comes to affecting the timeline. Jack doesn't remember him, so there's a good chance Jack won't remember anything he says either.
"21st century," he says. "And that was after the 18th and 20th."
Jack chokes a bit on his drink. "Wait, we've met in three different centuries? What's going on here, exactly?"
"I don't know," Ianto replies miserably. "It's the Rift, it's been dropping me off, always somewhere along your timeline. I don't know how and I don't know why, I just want to get back to my own time."
"But I don't remember meeting you," Jack murmurs, then cocks his head with that leer Ianto's seen several times now. "And I'd definitely remember you."
"Yes, yes, been there done that," Ianto replies. "I don't know why you don't remember me, but someday we'll—"
"Stop!" Jack says, holding up his hand. "You can't tell me about the future, it could corrupt the timeline."
"I thought you didn't care about the Time Agency," Ianto replies. "You said they could go to hell after what they did to you."
Jack looks slightly amazed. "I told you that?"
"You didn't tell me much," Ianto grumbles. "You usually don't." He waves a hand at Jack, a vague floppy motion that means the drink has gone to his head too fast. Which is not surprising, as he's had nothing to eat for hours and hasn't had a drink since the night at the Ferret. "Always keeping secrets. A time traveler, running around with the Doctor, older than you look."
Jack swirls his drink and pierces Ianto with a look. "You know me in your own time too, don't you?"
Ianto runs a hand through his hair. "Yeah, I work with you, actually. And tumbling through your past is not easy, you know."
"I can imagine," says Jack. The barmaid brings over some food, which Jack tells Ianto to tuck into, and he does, because he's quite hungry and needs to keep his head on straight if Jack is going to keep ordering drinks. And who knows when he'll get back to that dinner he was supposed to be sharing with Jack and Tosh in his own time, so he may as well take advantage now.
"So did we sleep together?" Jack asks, and Ianto chokes on a chicken leg. He takes a deep sip of whisky, which just makes it worse, and all the while Jack laughs at him. At least it's not a sad laugh, but a genuinely amused laugh that Ianto imagines Jack hasn't experienced for a while, stuck in 19th century Cardiff on his own for so long.
"Why…" He clears his throat. "Why would you ask that? Do you always sleep with the people you work with?"
"Only if they're my type," says Jack, leaning forward. "And you are definitely my type."
Ianto rolls his eyes as he bites into a warm roll. "Stuff it, I've already snogged two of you, I'm not going for the trifecta." When Jack laughs again, Ianto can't help but grin. "Anyway, you're a moody son of a bitch in every time I meet you. You stomped right by me not half an hour ago and now you're trying to get me into bed."
"Yeah, well," Jack pushes some food around his plate, sops up some gravy, and stuffs it in his mouth. He's just as messy as the man Ianto eats with back at the Hub. "I've been conscripted, so to speak. A good drink and a pretty face is the perfect distraction, as far as I'm concerned."
"Conscripted? Into the army?" asked Ianto. He tries to remember his history, didn't think there was anything major going on at the moment he was stuck in.
"No, into Torchwood," Jack replies bitterly. "Which, if you're a time traveler, you'll probably have heard of it, so I have no problem revealing their secret existence whatsoever. They can sod it for all I care."
Ianto sets down his silverware and wipes his mouth. He stares at Jack until the other man speaks through a mouthful of mushy peas. "What?"
"You work for Torchwood?" Ianto asks. "And you're pissed off about it?"
Jack studies him for a moment. "Do you know Torchwood?" Ianto nods and Jack continues. "They're not the magnanimous organization they claim they are. They torture and kill aliens. Hell, they torture and kill operatives."
Ianto blanches, but Jack continues before he can ask. "They want to protect the planet, but they think everything is evil. They shot a blowfish in cold blood, for no reason other than he was alien and no more use to them! And don't get me started on the Doctor. They get their hands on him, and they'll dissect him for sure."
Ianto stares a bit longer before he can't hold it in any longer. He bursts out laughing. Jack looks hurt as he leans back and crosses his hands over his chest.
"Something funny about all that?" he asks stiffly. Ianto shakes his head.
"No, it's just that…I shouldn't even be telling you this…but I work for Torchwood in the future. With you." When Jack's eyes go wide, Ianto smirks. "In fact, you're my boss."
"Bullshit," Jack says. "And you shouldn't be telling me this, you'll change my timeline!"
Ianto shrugs. "You haven't remembered me yet, so I suspect you won't remember this either. Therefore, I can tell you that you're in charge of Torchwood now, and it's a better place. We try to help first—people, aliens, doesn't matter. We talk, work for peace before using violence. All because of you."
"Really?" Jack murmurs, sitting back. "Damn. What year did you say you were from?"
"Er…" Ianto hesitates only momentarily. "2007."
Jack's eyes slip closed. "That's a century away," he whispers.
"Jack?" Ianto asks, tapping Jack's hand to get his attention after a long silence. "What's wrong? Maybe you find your Doctor, jump in time again."
"Or maybe I take the long road," Jack says. His head falls between his hands. "She said two centuries would turn before I met him again. That's over a hundred years." He takes a deep breath and looks up. "At least I have a gorgeous Welshman to look forward to." The levity is fake, but Ianto recognizes it immediately and respects it, goes with it.
"You already said that and forgot me once, so don't make any promises," he returns lightly. "Look, maybe we can both get back to the time we need. Have you tried using the Rift?"
Jack snorts as he goes back to his meal. Ianto picks at his, no longer hungry as some of the implications of what Jack has shared start to sink in. "No. Torchwood is just starting to figure it out. It'll be decades before they can harness it, manipulate it."
"It brought me here," Ianto points out. "And it keeps spitting me out again at other points in time. You could come with me, take your chances?"
Jack laughs bitterly. "I'm sorely tempted, but I need to stick around here. Anyway, I don't even know your name. I don't tend to Rift-hop with strangers."
Ianto briefly contemplates giving Jack a fake name, but since he's fairly certain Jack won't remember this, he doesn't bother. "Ianto Jones."
"Jack Harkness," says Jack, tipping his head. "But you knew that."
"Yeah," Ianto murmurs. They are silent for a long moment as they pick at their food. The atmosphere feels heavy now, like all hope's been sucked out of the room. "Look, Jack…"
Jack looks up but does not say anything, and Ianto can see by the look in Jack's eyes that he's thinking about his future. What did he meant that two centuries would turn before he met the Doctor again? Does he really stay in Cardiff until 2007? Ianto can't even begin to imagine living that long.
"I know you don't like Torchwood right now, but it gets better. Eventually. Maybe you're meant to change it, by working with them now."
"Not sure how," Jack replies, once again through a mouthful of food. "They're a bunch of psychos at the moment."
"You start small," Ianto replies, wondering where this grand speech is coming from. Yet it feels right. Torchwood Three may not be perfect, but it's not the one Jack described to him five minutes earlier. Maybe that's because of Jack. "Save an alien here, stop a dastardly plot there."
"Dastardly?" Jack teases, and Ianto rolls his eyes. Jack whistles under his breath.
"That's sexy, you know. You could topple governments with that eye roll."
"I"ll remember that the next time you ask for coffee," Ianto replies with another.
"Okay, so maybe I stick with Torchwood and cross my fingers that someday things turn out better. What about you?"
Ianto sighs. "I keep running into you and asking for help, but each time the Rift opens up again and drops me off somewhere else. So it's probably only a matter of time before—"
He is cut off by a loud scream, followed by chairs scraping along the floor and more shouts as the bar empties around them. Turning around, he sees the familiar white glow in front of the bar.
"Before the midnight carriage arrives?" Jack finishes for him. He jerks his head at the Rift. "Never seen anything like that before, nice."
"Trust me, I have, and it's not." Ianto stands and brushes his trousers off. Jack stands with him.
"You know," he says. "I just met you, but I'm going to miss you, Ianto Jones."
"Doubt it," Ianto snorts. "You don't usually notice …" He cuts himself off before he finishes a bitter retort. To be fair, Jack has noticed him more at the Hub, but that doesn't mean he'd actually miss Ianto if he got stuck in the past, just like this Jack will certainly not miss Ianto when he returns to the future. "Never mind."
"If I didn't notice you in your time, I'm a fool," Jack says. "Make me notice, because you have a lot to offer."
"You don't know that at all," Ianto protests, even though he feels it's true. He can do so much more, if he were only given the opportunity.
"Instinct," Jack replies. "You've already given me something to think about. Knock some sense into that other guy's head too."
Ianto grins. "Right. He's pretty thick-headed, though."
Jack taps his temple. "Always have been." He sobers up quickly. "But thank you."
Ianto inclines his head. "It'll be all right," he says. "You'll survive this, because I've seen how much you accomplish."
He can also see the pain and heartbreak in Jack's eye, shining clear, and he steps forward to take Jack's face in his hands. "You may feel broken, but I don't believe you will ever break. You are the strongest man I've ever met."
He kisses Jack, pouring his faith and trust into it and wondering where the hell it came from. Yet he finds it's true: he's seen some of Jack's past and though he's as confused as ever, he can see it's been a hard road for Jack, harder than any of them ever imagined. He means what he said, however impulsive the words: Jack is the strongest man he knows, and a good one at that.
There is another shout as the Rift opening grows, apparently impatient for Ianto's active participation. So he finishes the kiss—it's the best one yet as far as he's concerned—and is somewhat pleased to see that Jack looks slightly dazed when they step apart.
"Good luck, Jack," he says as he leaves. "I'll see you again soon."
He has no idea which Jack he'll meet, though. And while a part of him wants to get back to his own time, now his curiosity is thoroughly stoked and another part of him wants to know more about Jack's past.
Especially if there's more kissing.
He ends up in a Cardiff that is starting to look more familiar: the 1940s, which he knows from the newspaper that blows by on the pavement. It's a beautiful spring day, but there is a tension in the air he can't place. He walks a bit, making sure not to stray far, though the trip to the pub with Victorian Jack, as he thinks of him, has Ianto wondering if the Rift will find him no matter where he wanders.
He comes across a group of soldiers standing around outside a brick building, all with large rucksacks, and many with wives and girlfriends. This is where the somber mood is coming from, because there are hugs and kisses and tears and goodbyes, and it is quickly obvious the men are shipping out to war. Ianto stands nearby and watches as the men prepare to go to battle. It is a moving sight, watching history play out before him, knowing how many men do not return to their loved ones.
A couple strides up the street toward the group, and with a shock Ianto recognizes Jack, arm in arm with a beautiful young woman with brilliant blue eyes. They both look gutted at their imminent parting, particularly when they stop and embrace on the corner, away from the others.
Ianto watches shamelessly, trying to wrap his mind around what he is seeing. Even from a distance he can tell this is a much different man than the others he's met. And the woman. Jack clearly cares about her, whereas the Jack he knows doesn't seem like a man to make any kind of formal attachments whatsoever.
The woman looks familiar, and Ianto moves closer, trying to listen in and find out who she might be. He's already abandoned all thoughts of approaching this Jack. The man is clearly busy, shipping out and saying goodbye. There's nothing Jack could do for him, he's going to war. Ianto watches as Jack brushes the woman's hair back, kisses her forehead, murmurs her name. Estelle.
The couple share a deep kiss, and it is obvious how much Jack loves this woman. She presses something into his hand, and Ianto can see the tears in Jack's eyes. Finally parting with one last embrace, Jack joins the other soldiers, smiling bravely before offering a final wave goodbye to Estelle. Wife, girlfriend, or fiancée, Ianto cannot say. He is too stunned. Jack is going off to fight in World War II. He is certain, deep down, that Jack has spent the past forty-five years in Cardiff waiting for his Doctor. He'd been in his twenties when Ianto had first met him jumping through time, and he'd been stuck in Cardiff for forty years when they'd gone to the pub. Which means Jack is now over a hundred years old and doesn't look a day over thirty-five.
And then there is the woman, Estelle. There is no doubt in Ianto's mind this is Estelle Cole, the old woman who had been killed by the fairies several weeks ago. Jack had been devastated at the time. He'd told Ianto she'd been an old family friend, but now Ianto knows the truth. Jack had loved Estelle Cole as a young woman. Somehow he'd survived the war and moved on—living through the rest of the twentieth century or jumping to the twenty-first, though Ianto knows its more likely the former than the latter—and Estelle had aged while he hadn't. Now she's lost to the fairies and Jack is alone again.
Ianto had once asked Jack if he'd ever loved anyone so much. Now he has his answer. And it's breaking his heart.
The Rift picks him up quickly and spits him out just as fast, as if it only wanted to show him a glimpse of something, not leave him to experience Jack and Estelle's heartbreak. It's dark when he lands with an inelegant thump on his arse in patch of wet grass. With a curse, he stands and immediately feels the chill around him. It's fall, for the trees are bare, and it's late, for the park is empty. Except for a lone man walking the path, the shadow of his coat billowing behind him, and Ianto has little doubt who it is. He has no idea what year it is, though; for all he knows, he could be back in his own time.
Finding a nearby park bench, Ianto sits and waits for Jack to come to him, because he knows the man will walk his way and stop. And he does, sitting down without a word, glancing around, and then pulling out several ten pound notes. He discreetly holds them out; Ianto stares.
"I don't usually like to talk during this part," Jack finally says, waving the money. Ianto does not take it. Jack turns to him and frowns. "What, prices go up around here while I was gone?"
"Prices?" Ianto echoes, and then gasps. He slides away from Jack and tries to suppress the slight twinge of disgust he feels. He shouldn't be surprised, but he is. He just watched a very emotional Jack say goodbye to his lover. Now he's sitting next to a very impersonal Jack ready and willing to pay for cheap sex in a park. What's changed?
"Sorry sir," he finally manages to squeeze out, thinking fast. "I think you've mistaken for someone else."
Jack's head whips around. "Not working? You here for the same thing then?"
Ianto's heart is pounding wildly at what might be one of the most surreal conversations he's ever had. "Something like that."
Jack nods. His face is so blank, devoid of expression, his voice flat, like he feels nothing. "I could be persuaded to something more mutual." A sideways leer reminds Ianto this is still Jack. "I like the suit, but it'd look better on—"
Ianto stops him before Jack can finish that tired pickup line. It's rather mortifying, seeing the man he slept with a week ago picking up anonymous partners in the park. No wonder Jack didn't want anything more than one night. Ianto probably gave him exactly what he wanted only Jack didn't have to shell out for some random rent boy. No, that's not true. Jack had been reluctant at first, it was Ianto would had moved things forward. And he'd agreed with Jack that it would be only one time, so why was he still thinking about it?
"No," Ianto interrupts. "Sir…is everything all right?" He's not sure why he's reverted back to the 'sir', except that Jack is in his greatcoat (finally!) and exuding that feeling of command Ianto associates with the man back at the Hub. And he's more than a bit concerned that this man would react poorly if Ianto used his name right now. There's a sharp edge to this Jack that Ianto can see and sense is dangerous.
"What do you mean?" Jack asks warily. He glances around the park, probably looking for another mark. Ianto refuses to think about it.
"You seem tense," Ianto offers. "Different than…" He trails off as soon as he realizes his error.
"Different than what?" Jack says, his voice holding that subtle level of threat Ianto recognizes only too well. Damn. In for a penny then.
"Different than the last time we met," Ianto replies. Jack grins his shark grin.
"Oh, I'd remember someone like you," he says, leaning closer. "Especially that suit. Latest from London?"
"Not exactly," Ianto replies. What is it with Jack and suits? Apparently he's always had a fascination with them that didn't begin with Ianto. Ianto's not sure whether to be relieved or disappointed with that particular insight.
"So where do I know you from?" asks Jack, gazing around again in disinterest. "Bar, club? Different park?"
"Of course not," Ianto snaps. "I don't wander the park paying for anonymous blow jobs, unless you were looking for help with a Weevil."
He's certain Jack will pull out his Webley, but he can't help snapping at this man. He doesn't like this Jack, detached and cool and with such an aura of uncaring distance that Ianto almost shivers from it. Once again he wonders how all these Jacks can be the same man.
"So you know what a Weevil is," Jack offers casually. No gun in Ianto's face yet, that's good.
"Of course I do, I work for Torchwood."
That gets Jack's attention quick. He looks Ianto up and down and sneers, a look of doubt and disgust on his face. "No you don't. Especially not here in Cardiff."
"I do," said Ianto, trying to stay strong when the words sting. He tells himself he's all right, he's better, he belongs in Torchwood, but Jack's words bring back all the doubts that have plagued him these past months. He takes a deep breath. "In the future."
Jack barks out an ugly laugh. Ianto has had it and stands to leave. He's seen enough, learned enough. He knew perfectly well that Jack was capable of coldness and cruelty, he's already experienced it personally; why is the Rift showing him another version of it? What happened to the lonely man stuck in Cardiff, the heartbroken lover saying goodbye? How can this man be the same man who forgave Ianto not once, but twice for betraying him, hurting him?
Jack reaches out and grabs Ianto's arm. "No, you're not going anywhere, Mr. Jones."
A spark of hope flares in Ianto's gut, that maybe Jack is finally starting to remember these visits. Though that might mean irrevocable damage to the timeline, it still feels better than being constantly snogged and forgotten.
"You remember me?" he asks. "The other times we've met?"
Jack waves Ianto's wallet in front of him, tosses it back. So Jack has pickpocket skills as well.
"Afraid not," he says. "Just nimble fingers." There is no leer, no wag of the eyebrows. His Jack would have played the innuendo until it was dead and done; this one means it literally.
"Well, we have," says Ianto. "What year is it?"
"What year are you from?" asks Jack.
"2007," Ianto snaps. "When am I now?"
Jack leans back and lays his arms across the bench. Ianto is reminded of the spider inviting the fly into his parlor. "1965," Jack replies. "Now talk to me before I haul you in."
"The last time I saw you it was 1941," says Ianto, hearing the sadness in his voice. "You were shipping out for the war. You obviously survived."
"I usually do," Jack replies blandly.
"Have you been in Cardiff ever since?"
Jack doesn't answer, studies him carefully, his face blank. Ianto feels like he can read his Jack fairly well most of the time, but not this man—his mask is strong.
"Look, I know you're waiting for the Doctor," says Ianto, weary after repeating himself so many times. "And I know you're not aging as you wait. So you might as well give me another piece of the puzzle before the Rift sucks me back in and drops me somewhere else in your past."
Jack stands slowly and stares him down. "You know nothing about me," he says, his voice deadly as it had been the night Lisa had died. "And I suggest you forget everything you think you know."
"I know you loved her, Estelle Cole. What happened? Didn't you come back to her?" Ianto is not sure why he's gravitated toward that particular subject, but it seems so unlikely that this Jack would give a damn about anyone, yet alone fall in love, and that is what Ianto struggles with, the stark contrasts between the men he's met.
Jack's hand shoots out to grip him by the throat. "Don't talk about her. You know nothing."
"She's not dead, I know that." Ianto coughs and continues. "Did she leave you, move on?" And then it hits him. "You haven't aged and she has. You left her. Oh Christ, Jack…"
"How do you know my name?" Jack growls. "Let alone…all that? I've never seen you before! What do you want from me?" Jack is not only angry, but clearly hurting. And Ianto's heart aches with him.
"I don't know," he says softly, stepping closer. "But I am so sorry for you pain and suffering these many long years."
Jack's lower lip quivers, but the rest of his body is locked. Ianto takes one more step forward and kisses him, a brief and very chaste kiss on the lips that leaves Jack staring at him with more pain in his eyes than Ianto has ever seen.
"You loved her," he says quietly. "Like I loved Lisa. You'll love again someday, just like I will." He laughs through his nose. "If I ever get back to my own time and stop tumbling around your sordid past."
"Who are you?" Jack whispers.
"Someone who cares," Ianto replies, and is not surprised to find it's true. He cares about Jack. Seeing him so happy, so sad, so confident, so broken, has only now revealed his feelings. Jack is a human being like rest of them, a man who has experienced more than anyone, who feels pain and heartbreak and happiness and joy, who makes mistakes but must live with them for decades.
Jack steps away from him, breaking the spell. "You shouldn't. I've done terrible things. I just sent…well, I'm a monster. It's why they called me."
Ianto nods in agreement, and Jack's eyes go wide with hurt. "I thought so once too. Deep down, we all have a bit of the monster inside us. But it doesn't define us, make us all that we are. It's how we fight the monster that matters. I know who you are, Jack. You're a good man trying to do the right thing."
He's slightly worried Jack is going to break down right then and there, and Ianto is certain he can't handle that. Fortunately, Jack holds it together.
"So we've met before?" he asks, his voice cracking.
"And we'll meet again. And whatever you've done or will do…I will always forgive you, just as you forgave me."
Jack chokes back a sob, timed just right with a small explosion behind the park bench. The Rift is ready to move on, and so is Ianto. He contemplates kissing Jack once more, but instead offers the little salute one of the other Jacks had given him. It earns him a big grin, a beautiful, honest smile. Ianto feels better leaving Jack with a smile.
But he dreads what he'll find next.
Jack pushing a baby carriage through the same park is definitely not what he was expecting. Ianto is not there for long, only long enough to watch Jack lift a baby from the carriage, his face bright with happiness, and coo to her in a sing-song voice that is jarring for Ianto yet fitting for this much happier man. Ianto moves a bit closer, sees that it's a girl and has no doubt this is Jack's daughter from the sparkling blue eyes. He sets her down in the grass and she takes a few toddling steps, laughing out loud as she darts into Jack's arms.
"Good job, Melissa," he says, and Ianto files the name away before he's sucked back into Jack's past, tumbling through the Rift and passing through scene after scene like he's on a whirlwind tour of the most incredible life he's known: Jack in uniform again, only this time he's in London, standing on Big Ben and dancing with a blond-haired woman whom Ianto's seen before; Jack in a circus, pretending to die; Jack covertly holding hands with a handsome man in spite of it very clearly being a time that would not accept such a thing; Jack exchanging wedding vows with a beautiful woman named Catherine; Jack back in London, running with the Queen, hideous sideburns and all; Jack shouting down Yvonne Hartmann at Torchwood Tower; Jack and Archie, the crazy coot from Two, smoking cigars on a loch in Scotland. Jack never aging, killing and saving, loving and laughing, screaming and crying. Through it all, Jack suffering, over and over.
And then Ianto lands in the Hub, hoping that it's all over and he's back, that everything will be fine and life will go back to normal in spite of all he's seen. Only Jack's nightmare is apparently never-ending, for there is blood everywhere.
Author's Note
I hope you enjoyed my speculation based on some canon events! If you are wondering about certain things, I'm afraid you'll have to wait until the end. I hope to post the next chapter over the weekend and the final chapter next week. Thank you for reading! Please do leave a note if you can - comments, questions, anything. It lets us writers know that yes, someone is actually reading our hard work, and maybe even likes it. And don't forget to listen to Broken, it's fantastic. Thanks and enjoy!