War's End: Lily's Story
(Or, a Story of Forgiveness)


"-and then Owen looked at me and said, 'can I go home now?'" Ianto smirked, and there were a few drowsy chuckles. As he finished the tale, the dorm went quiet, except for the small sounds of children shifting in their beds.

It was soon after the tenth bell, and Captains Jack and Ianto were both sitting on the floor, legs outstretched, shoulders touching. The girls and the boys in the flight academy dorm were separated by a thin partition wall in the middle of the big room; this far into the program, all of the cadets were all friends.

"Can we have another story, Captain Jack?" asked Silvia's sleepy voice from the other side after a long silence.

"Another?" Ianto asked chidingly from beside the other Captain. He was leaning his head comfortably on Jack's shoulder. The dorm was dark enough that the cadets would only see the vague outlines of the Captains sitting together. Their relationship was no secret, but Ianto was a private sort; the dark made him comfortable enough to snuggle without fear of becoming a spectacle. "I just told you one."

"Now it's Jack's turn," Dan said quietly, looking over at them from his bottom bunk. "That's how it goes. Don't you know that by now, Captain Jones?"

Ianto smiled and Jack chuckled softly. That gentle laugh filled the room with such warmth, Ianto thought dreamily, sleepy himself. Jack was terrified of kids, it was true, but he so obviously loved the cadets, all eight of them, that it was almost painful. "Alright then," Jack smiled. "Do you want another about Torchwood?"

"Tell us about the Scanran war," murmured Tina, on the girls' side of the partition. "About the metal monsters. Were they really made from children?"

Ianto felt his muscles coil uncomfortably as Jack stiffened beside him, and he rubbed his cheek on the other man's tense shoulder. "That's not really conducive to sweet dreams, Tina," Ianto scolded gently, concealing his anxious heart rate.

"I want to know, too," whispered Olivia softly.

"Alright, hold your horses," Jack sighed. He settled an arm around Ianto's shoulders. "We'll tell you the story."

Ianto closed his eyes against Jack's neck, almost wishing he wouldn't. Jack was trying his damndest to do right by the cadets, and that meant fewer secrets – but even still, some stories hurt more than others.

There was a happy murmur from around the room, and the sounds of children settling once more. Ianto swallowed, and Jack's arm tightened.

"It's not a nice one, though," Jack warned quietly, pressing a reassuring kiss into Ianto's hair. "Should I not tell it?" he asked Ianto softly.

"The Torchwood ones aren't nice, either," protested Liam from his top bunk. "We like them anyway."

"Tell it," Ianto murmured into Jack's neck. "Lily doesn't deserve to be forgotten."

Jack played with Ianto's hair gently. "Alright," he sighed. "Alright." He looked around the bunks of the children and then down at Ianto. Encouragingly, and also to reassure Jack that he was alright, Ianto stroked his chest. Jack murmured something inarticulate at him and clasped his hand. His heart fluttered softly under Ianto's palm. This was not a happy story for Jack, either.

"Five years ago," Jack started reluctantly, "Before the war began, there was a little girl called Lily. She used to live in Bay Cove, but one day there was an earthquake, and the town was destroyed. There was plenty of relief, from the Riders and the Own and even Ianto and I helped, but sometimes it isn't enough. Her parents died in the quake, and she was kidnapped by bandits. They tied her to a horse and rode hard, up into the north, but it took them an awfully long time. She was hungry and cold and scared, and at night she dreamed that she would die." He hugged Ianto close, clearly uncomfortable. Ianto let him, watching with soft, sad eyes.

Lily was still sharp in his memory, with her clear brown eyes and eager, piping voice. She'd followed Ianto around like a puppy, and he'd been quite taken with her. The girl had been brilliant; she'd charge the dyne, she'd clean the launchers, and she had such a sense of humor, such a wonderful grin. He'd taken care of her, was almost willing to adopt her, the sweet girl who wanted to fly. Jack knew her story through Ianto, through the bits and snatches she'd told him and he'd put together after the girl's death. She deserved to be remembered, Ianto had told Jack fiercely after the war, as he wrote the story almost obsessively in his journal. Her story deserved to be recorded and retold.

Ianto drew a breath, surprised that he was still sensitive to the memory, even after the war was over for two years.

That Jack could tell these children about her without collapsing was a very large step. He'd killed Lily, after all; she was yet another child to add to his frighteningly long list. Jack, like Ianto, had fallen apart at the end of the Scanran war, after Lily's death. But Jack was so much better now, Ianto thought proudly to himself, pressing in close. Jack could probably never tell the cadets about Steven, but maybe, one day, he would even be able to talk about the Four-five-six without breaking out in a cold sweat.

This planet. This stupid, damned planet that played on both of their nightmares, Ianto reflected ruefully. He rubbed Jack's fingers softly, and Jack squeezed his hand.

"The bandits themselves were attacked," Jack continued quietly. "Lily untied herself and broke free, although she kept the horse. She had no idea where she was but she rode, she rode anyway, just to get away from the stench of death and fear.

She spent six days in the woods; she was so far north that she had snow for water, and she'd stolen a little bit of food to eat, but not much. She could not hunt. She was attacked by a Coldfang for stealing the horse; they ran and ran and ran until they reached a town called Goatstock, where she begged and survived through the employ of a goatherd for a year or so." He sighed.

The dorm was silent for a moment, the only sound the creak of someone shifting in bed. Jack was a good story teller. Ianto remembered Lily telling him about the forest, about running and finding Goatstock, and dreaming of death.

The silence weighed heavy in the room before Jack continued. "And then the war began, and everything went to hell. The town was raided, and when the goatherd was killed in battle she fled with the refugees to Fort Giantkiller, my base, where they were fed and clothed and kept warm for the winter—sort of."

A small huff from the back; Gillham Smithy, one of the cadets, knew all about the generosity of nobles, or lack thereof.

"I had been stationed at Giantkiller since it had been built, and I suppose that was when I first met her. I think she was like Dan, when I first met him." Jack's voice warmed on a smile and he glanced at the bunk where Dan was drifting drowsily somewhere before sleep. Apparently, Jack had met Dan at Blue Harbor during the war but Jack said he barely remembered it—he had a tendency to block out all memories of children, with the exception of his beloved cadets. Still, Dan remembered, and he had told Ianto once that it had been a defining moment in his life.

"All bright eyes and wonder," Jack continued softly. "Of course, I had bigger things to worry about at the time, so I wasn't paying much attention. You all know how I am with kids." There was a sleepy chuckle around the dorm. They all knew Jack was both terrified and overprotective, and the easiest way for him to deal with it was to push children away.

"But I think she watched me. It was good initiative, admittedly, but I was too busy to notice. War, after all, had broken out, and there were those machines on the loose." His voice went dark. "Seven feet tall with extra joints, knives and blades for fingers and toes; their heads were domed like something out of a nightmare, and their teeth were made from broken glass, or so it seemed. They were dark metal with chains in their joints, and long whiplash, metal tails. They were horrible, but what was within was worse. I could take them out with a projectile weapon to their skull, and a white mist would float away. Sometimes they screamed for their mothers." He swallowed and his fingers tightened convulsively around Ianto's. Ianto stroked his palm with his thumb, and let him continue.

"With the thaw, a new train came, though: Keladry of Mindelan. The Protector of the Small swept the refugees away, much to my relief. She set up a refugee camp called Haven, and that was where little Lily really shined." He smiled sadly into Ianto's hair. "Because Haven was not a military camp, and it was close to the boarder. It became Ianto's base, because not only was it often not on any maps—it was just a refugee camp, after all—but it was small, low profile, and a perfect hiding spot for a spydyne."

"And there she met Ianto, who's much better with kids than I am. Ianto took her under his wing, as he does, and she learned to fix the Tosh when she came back from a storm, and to shine the steel feathers on her wings and hull. Lily was slightly Gifted, so she could even charge the engines. And she was small enough that Ianto sometimes let her fly with him." Ianto smiled sadly into Jack's shoulder at the memories, heart twisting. Lily had been wonderful.

"But it was not to be," Jack sighed. "Because Haven was destroyed in a raid, and the children taken hostage. The Tosh Mark I went down in the battle, as you all know. Stenmun, Blayce's dog, marched the children up to Scanra, and Ianto followed after them on horseback, marking the way, only to be captured himself." He squeezed Ianto's shoulders gently. Ianto cast his eyes to the floor, not particularly wanting to relive this part of the story. "Lily was one of the last to be made into one of those monsters; Blayce the Childkiller conducted experiments on her, so she lived after his death, a patchwork of metal and girl. Kel killed Blayce soon after." He sighed and nuzzled Ianto's hair. Ianto held himself stiff and still and tried not to remember. "Ianto killed Stenmun with a bullet through the brain from Blayce's workshop. But Lily was still around, and the Tosh was destroyed." Jack swallowed.

"She became my personal project when she crossed the border into Tortall, like some sort of horrific zombie. She attacked new Giantkiller because she had known that it was my base; the place was burning when I got there. I got her. I killed her myself, and been guilty ever after. She called that she was scared as she died." Jack looked down regretfully at Ianto's hair. "So, yes, Olive. They were made from children. Lucky for everyone involved, Blayce is dead."

"And you have Tortall to come home to," whispered Kathy from the other side of the partition. Ianto swallowed at the affection in the girl's tone.

Jack sagged, gathering Ianto close and looking at the partition, as though he could see the girls through it. "Yeah," he agreed. "Yeah. Tortall's safe, now."

"Then a job well done," mumbled Dan, half asleep. "Then our captains saved the realm at great personal cost."

"And put a little girl to rest," murmured Tina. "You're still a hero. You're both still heroes."

"Best heroes there ever were," Silvia sighed. Liam of Whitehorn's snore almost covered her words, but the Captains could hear them well enough.

"Th'nks f'r th'story," Gil slurred into his pillow.

Jack rested a cheek on Ianto's hair, watching the drifting children with awed eyes. "You're welcome," he muttered. Ianto was silent, staring at the children, flabbergasted at their calm acceptance.

But it was my fault, he thought. Blayce got the idea for Lily from my memories of Cybermen.

Robert of High Peak, on the top bunk, caught his eye. The cadet smiled drowsily, full of trust and—and love. Ianto stared, shocked.

The bitterness, the guilt, the hurt in Ianto's heart dissolved in the face of that love. The affection and acceptance in that boy's eyes was like balm to a wound.

Ianto stared, breathless, as the cadets drifted off to sleep. Jack clutched him tightly, equally shocked.

"We—we should go to bed," Jack whispered after a moment. Ianto nodded against his neck, still staring at Rob, who was now fast asleep. Neither moved.

"They're—" Ianto started to say, but found no words. These children—this group of eight teenagers, barely teenagers, in fact—had just absolved them. These brilliant children, to whom they had just told a horrific story that ended in the creation of a monster from a child, Ianto's failure to save her and Jack's murder of her, had simply forgiven them. Both of them, all at once.

"Incredible," Jack finished for him softly. His heart pounded beneath Ianto's hand. "Absolutely incredible."

Yeah, Ianto thought, pressing closer to Jack and looking at his sleeping charges with wide eyes. That was a good word. Somewhere in his heart, a two year long knot of guilt eased.

Incredible. They were incredible.