Chapter Ten

Ianto managed to avoid being alone with Jack for several days. It wasn't hard; after the time shift, the Rift was unstable and the Weevils came out in droves. They were all run off their feet, taking shifts to go home for much needed rest. Yet every time Ianto managed to fall into bed, he dreamt of the end of the world. He slept poorly, and grew more and more anxious about his visions.

Much like he had before he'd left, Jack finally cornered Ianto in the archives a week after they'd returned to the Hub. Ianto was trying to find any reference to a strange word he kept hearing in his dreams, Toclafane, though he'd had no luck and was beginning to wonder if perhaps he really was going insane and the visions meant nothing. He was muttering to himself when Jack came up behind him.

"You know what they say about people who talk to themselves," Jack teased. Ianto turned and raised an eyebrow.

"That we usually get the right answer that way?" he replied. Jack grinned.

"I like that. What're you looking for that's got you so focused we haven't seen you for hours?"

Ianto shut the file drawer he'd been digging through with no results and shrugged. "Just some things I've been curious about. Not having much luck, though."

"Anything I can help with?" Jack asked, and Ianto shook his head. For some reason, he still did not want to tell Jack about his dreams or his search for answers. He was used to fending for himself, to dealing with things on his own, and this was no different.

"Nope, but I'll let you know if I need anything, or find something," Ianto added. "Anything I can do for you down here?" He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth.

"Well, other than the obvious," Jack grinned. "Yes. How about talking to me? We haven't had a minute alone since John left."

"It's been busy."

"You've been avoiding me. Again."

Ianto sighed and leaned against his desk. "I'm sorry, but it really has been non-stop since you got back. I guess I haven't had a chance to process everything."

Jack nodded. "I understand. I needed a few days myself. How can I help?"

"I don't know," Ianto replied. "I really don't."

Jack glanced away, then met his eyes. "What are you thinking? About us?"

"I have no idea what to think about us," Ianto admitted. "To be honest, I was ready to sever the bond after you came back from 1941." Jack's face blanched, but he nodded and Ianto continued. "But then the Rift fell apart, and suddenly you were gone. Now you're back, and you're different, and I don't know how that fits into everything else that's happened."

"I don't want to sever the bond," Jack said, his voice firm. "I want to be with you, and I will do whatever I have to do to convince you. Just tell me what you want, what you need."

Ianto pursed his lips, considered all the questions he wanted to ask. Where had Jack gone? What had happened to him? Why had he come back after four months? Instead, he found himself dwelling on something more immediate, more personal. "Why did you change your mind?" he asked. "When you came back after Abaddon, why did you say…what you said?"

"I changed my mind because after everything that happened with Bilis Manger and the Rift, there was one thing I realized more than anything. That no matter what happened to me or where I ended up, this was my home, because you were here, and that living without you was not something I wanted to do. All I could think about when I faced Abaddon was getting back to you, being with you."

"Why did you take Gwen, then?" Ianto asked, more curious than resentful as he'd long suspected the answer.

"Because I knew you would feel it, and I didn't want you to see it. I wanted you to be safe," Jack said. Ianto nodded; he'd been right, though it had still felt like being set aside. "And Gwen knew I would come back, but Tosh and Owen didn't. They would have tried to talk me out of it."

"So would I," Ianto murmured.

"I'm sorry I left so abruptly," Jack continued. "But the Doctor arrived and you were out, and I had to go. I had to know what happened to me, if he could fix me."

Jack's face was a portrait of sadness and disappointment. "What did he say?" Ianto asked quietly, then held up his hand. "Sorry, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

"There's nothing he can do." Jack shrugged, trying to appear casual and unconcerned, though Ianto could see how devastated he felt. "I'm an impossible thing, he said, connected to the Time Vortex forever. A fixed point in time. Immortal."

"If you're connected to the Time Vortex, why can't he break that connection to stop it?" Ianto didn't pretend to understand, and spoke before even thinking about it.

"I don't think it works like that," Jack said. "When I died, the first time, there was a woman who looked into the heart of the Doctor's ship and took the Time Vortex into herself in order to stop the Daleks we were fighting. She brought me back, but she had no control over the power she was using, so she brought me back forever. There's nothing the Doctor can do to reverse that."

"I'm sorry," Ianto murmured, unable to imagine the other man's pain. Jack would live for eternity; not for the first time, Ianto wondered what it meant for them. "I know you were hoping he could help."

Jack was silent for a moment, before he took a deep breath and spoke. "Look, I know what I said about not being together, but I had a lot of time to think while I was gone this past year. I realized I was wrong. I don't care if I'm immortal and you're not. I want this for as long as I can have it. I want you."

Ianto stopped listening after he heard the words 'over the last year'. Images appeared, of Cardiff destroyed, the world in ruins. It had only been four months for Ianto, but apparently Jack had been gone far longer. Jack had been gone for a year. He had seen the future. Did that mean the end of the world was nigh? Was that what Ianto was seeing, the things Jack had experienced in the future?

"Ianto?" asked Jack, shaking his shoulder. "Ianto, are you okay?"

Ianto shook his head, then nodded to reassure Jack he was fine. "You were gone for a year?"

"Ah," said Jack, too late realizing his slip. "Well, yes. I know it wasn't a year for you, but it was for me. And I would have come back sooner, only I couldn't."

"I knew you time-traveled," Ianto said. "I felt it."

"Me too," Jack murmured, closing his eyes. "And it was awful. I'm sorry you had to go through that."

"I'm sorry you had to go through it as well." Though he dreaded the answer, Ianto spoke again. "Did you see the future then?"

"Yes," said Jack, his voice almost a whisper. "I saw the end of the universe."

"What does that mean?" Ianto asked, frustrated and confused. "Do you know what's going to happen, here, to us, in the future?"

"I don't," Jack replied. "The immediate future is always changing. But I saw things, terrible things, and the only thought that got me through them was knowing you were safe and alive."

"You were captured," Ianto said, his voice flat. "Captured and tortured." Visions—or perhaps they really were memories—appeared in his mind's eye, of a ship floating through the sky, of a madman laughing with evil glee as he ordered the death of millions, of a tin-can dinner with a beautiful woman who promised to stop the madman and save Jack. These were his memories, not Jack's. His.

"I—" Jack frowned. "How do you know? You couldn't have felt it."

"I can see it in your eyes, hear it in your voice," Ianto lied. One part of his mind screamed at him to tell Jack that yes, he had felt it every time Jack had died, and that he remembered. But another part of his mind refused, unable to believe that he had lived an entire year he barely remembered.

Jack didn't reply. He frowned as he studied Ianto's face, as if searching for a lie. "Yes," he finally admitted. "I was held prisoner for a year. I can't talk about it, though. Not really."

"Because it happened in the future?" Ianto asked. "Does that mean you'll have to go through it again?"

"No," Jack said slowly. "Not the future, not exactly. And it won't happen again because the man who held us prisoner is dead. Ianto, what's going on?"

"Nothing," Ianto replied. "I'm just trying to understand."

Jack took a deep breath. "I spent the last year living in a paradox," he said. "I can't talk about it because it's complicated, and it was hard, and I'm pretty sure it's classified now," he added with a forced attempt at levity.

"Right," Ianto nodded. "Of course. A classified paradox." Something was trying to come together in his mind, but he couldn't wrap his mind around it. Yet he knew it must have something to do with the strange visions and memories he kept experiencing, and he needed to figure it out.

"Look," said Jack. "Why don't we go out for that dinner? If you're tired, we can postpone the movie, but there's a new French place I'd like to try, and we can talk more, I promise."

Ianto's self-preservation instinct kicked in; he wasn't ready to go on a date with Jack, not after everything he'd learned. He needed time to understand the visions he kept remembering from a year spent living a paradox. "I can't," he lied. "I'm having tea with my mum later, she had her last treatment on Monday and I said I'd take her out to celebrate." Which was true, he'd promised to take her for her favorite fish and chips, only he still needed to call her and schedule it.

Jack sighed. "All right. Another night, then?" Ianto nodded. "I meant what I said," Jack told him. "Dinner and a movie. I came back for you because I want to be with you, and I will do anything to convince you I mean it."

"I'm getting there," Ianto replied with a small smile. Jack certainly seemed earnest, and deep down Ianto wanted to be with his soulmate. But not until he understood what was happening to him.

Jack's smile was genuinely happy. "Good! Then maybe this weekend," he said. He leaned forward and kissed Ianto, quick but passionate, and Ianto felt Jack's love and desire even though the bond was blocked. And then he was assaulted by more visions, and he pulled away with a gasp, hoping Jack would assume it was a great kiss.

Jack didn't look completely convinced, but he smiled and nodded and left the archive. Ianto closed his eyes and deliberately replayed one of the visions, trying to remember more.

It was Harold Saxon who had held Jack prisoner and tortured him. It was Harold Saxon who had destroyed the Earth.

Ianto didn't sleep that night. He tossed and turned and paced and picked up his phone half a dozen times to call Jack. It should have been easy to talk to Jack, to his soulmate—to simply ask him what had happened during the year he'd been away, to confess the strange memories that were becoming more and more real every day.

For some reason, he couldn't. Ianto knew he should tell Jack, but a part of him wanted to figure it out himself and fix it rather than cause Jack any more pain by bringing up something that had obviously been difficult. He wasn't entirely sure how Jack would respond, and wanted to know more before he was forced to tell him that he knew about Saxon and the Valiant.

He went in late the next day and had just made coffee when the team went out on a call. Detective Swanson had called them to a gruesome murder scene, and Ianto was glad to be left behind. Though he had more than enough work to do, he went down to the archives with a thermos and began researching Harold Saxon.

He found nothing until he began digging deeper, and then he started to worry. Maybe he wasn't going crazy after all. Maybe there was more to Harold Saxon than a presidential assassination.

The case was intense, putting Ianto on edge. He sympathized with Beth Halloran, afraid of what other memories might be buried within him. It seemed like every time he opened his mouth something snarky came out in defense, but he couldn't help it. When he looked at Jack, he pictured him being tortured by the Prime Minister, the Master, and Ianto knew he wasn't imagining it. It had really happened. He had felt it every time Jack had died.

After placing Beth Halloran in the morgue for a second time, he begged off having dinner with Jack once more and hurried home, where he began writing down everything he had seen and remembered. It painted a bleak picture of Jack's time away, and Ianto was still terrified that it was something yet to come, a vision of the future. Jack had said it was a paradox, but what did that mean?

He tried to stay calm around Jack, but more and more memories continued to surface, and Ianto knew he'd reach the tipping point any day. He hated keeping secrets again, hated not knowing what had happened or why he was remembering it, and hating putting on the act that everything was fine, that he just needed more time to figure things out with Jack. He barely slept, wasn't hungry, and suffered increasing headaches as he grew resentful of the uncertainty and fear he lived with day to day, but kept it inside.

It was a simple silver balloon that ended the charade.

He was chasing a Weevil with Owen when he saw something in the air from the corner of his eye. Out of instinct he raised his gun and took the shot, blowing it to bits. There were screams from all around him as people began running. Owen yanked the gun from his hands, swearing at him as called for Jack and Gwen on the comms. Ianto babbled an apology, his hands shaking as he sank to the curb. Owen took his pulse, shined a light in his eyes, asked him a dozen questions Ianto couldn't hear. All he could think about were dozens of metal spheres descending on Cardiff, floating between the buildings, laughing as they flew by, arbitrarily killing and maiming as they went. He'd been there, watched his city die for refusing to give in to the Master. It was as real as running through the streets after a Weevil. Ianto knew it had happened, but why didn't anyone else remember? Why did he? And why did his head hurt so badly?

"What's wrong?" demanded Jack, running up to them with Gwen behind. "Is he hurt?"

"He's losing it, that's what," Owen snapped. "He fired into the crowd, deliberately shot up some kid's balloon, and practically collapsed afterward."

Jack immediately turned to Gwen. "Crowd control. Get Tosh on a cover story. Go." Gwen hurried off as Jack kneeled before Ianto and took his hands. "What happened? What did you see?"

"I thought I saw one of them," Ianto murmured. "I thought they were back."

"Who?" asked Jack.

"The Toclafane," Ianto whispered. Jack went pale, his hands tightening around Ianto's fingers.

"No," he said. "No, you shouldn't know about them."

"I remember," Ianto replied, closing his eyes. "I remember the end of the world."

"Ianto!" Jack called, grasping him by the shoulders and shaking him, making the ache in his head even worse. "It's over. The world didn't end. They're all gone, and you're safe."

"But what if they come back?" Ianto asked. "It's the future I'm remembering, isn't it? The one you lived for a year."

"No," said Jack, his eyes wide and frightened. "No, I told you—it was a paradox. It shouldn't have happened, but it did, only we reversed it so it didn't! This shouldn't be happening!"

"Jack, what the hell is going on?" Owen demanded. "His pulse is racing, his eyes are dilated, he's pale and clammy—he's going into some sort of emotional shock. I need to get him back to the Hub."

Jack helped Ianto stand up, didn't even look back as they left the scene. "Let's go, then."

"It was a balloon," said Ianto as they walked toward the SUV. "I killed a little girl's balloon. Is she okay?"

"She's fine, and Gwen will handle it," Jack soothed him. "You were having some sort of flashback or something. We'll fix it. Right now we need to get back to the Hub and take care of you."

Ianto sighed. "I can take care of myself. I did for a year. I survived, until I was alone at the very end."

"I know," Jack said softly. "Martha told me."

"Martha Jones, the woman who walked the earth," Ianto murmured. "She really did save us, didn't she?"

"She did," Jack replied with another frown. "Although I don't understand how you can remember!"

"My head hurts," Ianto whispered, pressing a hand to his head as they reached the car. "So many memories, and none of them good. It hurts."

"I'll give you the good drugs as soon as we get back," Owen said. "Jack, sit with him in case he gets sick or passes out. I don't like the looks of him."

"You're no beauty yourself, Owen," Ianto returned, earning a chuckle from both men.

"At least your sense of humor is still intact," Jack said. "We'll figure this out. I promise." He leaned closer. "If you stop blocking me, maybe I can help."

Ianto glanced sideways at him and nodded. He relaxed, opening the door to his animoré, and immediately felt Jack within his mind, surrounding him with comfort and strength. With a sigh of longing, Ianto relaxed into it, and decided that maybe everything would be okay with Jack by his side helping him through it all.

Author's Note:

I am no longer in control of this story. I have no idea what is going to happen when I start typing. I only know where I want to go at this point. That may sound ridiculous and scary, but I have every confidence that the universe will show me the way. It's just having more fun than usual surprising me with this one. Many thanks to Taamar and DinoDina for helping me try to figure it all out!