Thanks as always to my exceptional beta riftintime.


Chapter 52

The next several days were a blur of activity at Torchwood. Weevil sightings were at an all time high, and it was all the four of them could do to keep things under control. The team, after a bit of a rocky start, was settling into their new roles. Ianto felt that Torchwood was running in a reasonably efficient manner. Of course, there was always room for improvement, but Ianto knew he was a perfectionist at heart, so he made allowances. The team was more companionable after their drunken night out and, as though by unspoken consent, no one discussed Jack again. They had all accepted that they had to carry on, regardless of whether or not Jack returned. The Rift would continue to spit out aliens, and Torchwood would continue to pick up after it. Gwen proved to be a good investigative director, and Owen was a natural field leader. Toshiko was, as always, a genius. Ianto was certain that, barring catastrophe, he could manage Torchwood operations. Ianto was bemused to find that Owen often chose him for field work. After all, he thought to himself, I do have some experience chasing Weevils.

Ianto had begun writing everything in his diary from his thoughts on Jack, to interesting artifacts in the Hub, to the daily running of Torchwood. He enjoyed writing in the diary. It was a chance for him to exercise his wit with uncensored rumination. He had thought a lot about Tosh's theory on Jack and the real Captain Jack Harkness. He figured that she was probably correct in her assumptions, but he didn't know if that changed anything. He wasn't even sure if it still mattered. Jack was with the Doctor now. It was where he had wanted to be for over a hundred years. Whether or not Jack cares about me is probably a moot point.

Ianto missed Jack. He missed him more that he was willing to admit to himself. He saw him everywhere in the Hub, and he slept surrounded by his scent every night. Often he would find himself turning to ask Jack's opinion or to make a witty comment to him, only to remember he was gone and feel a stabbing pain in his gut. It was getting harder to bear, and he was becoming more and more disconsolate. He needed to spend a night at home, away from Torchwood, away from the Hub, and away from memories of Jack. A little over a week after Jack's disappearance, he told Tosh that, Rift permitting, he was going home for the evening.

He felt a sense of relief as he walked into his flat. Here, at least, there were fewer and more faded memories of Jack Harkness. Jack hadn't been to his flat since their trip to the Beacons, and that time period had been so horrible that he'd succeeded in locking those memories away in a rarely visited part of his mind. He spent the evening cleaning and packing some things to take to the Hub. Then he got into his own bed for the first time in over a week and stretched out. He fell asleep almost instantly.

Ianto heard Jack calling his name from somewhere far away. He stirred. "Jack?" he called. He smelled the familiar scent of the man and felt Jack's lips on his. He opened his eyes. Jack was kneeling by his bed, stroking his hair, saying his name. Jack looked old and broken. Ianto had a sudden sense of déjà vu. "You're not my Jack," he whispered.

"You're dreaming Ianto," Jack's voice was hypnotic. "You're dreaming of a future Jack who's older and wiser."

"Oh." Ianto accepted Jack's explanation without question.

"There are so many things I want to say to you, Ianto, but I can't right now." Jack went on. "I'm going to inject something into your arm. It's important, Ianto." Jack's hypnotic tone continued.

"Okay." Ianto immediately trusted Jack implicitly.

Jack stood and removed a case from his pocket. He took out a syringe and injected the contents into Ianto's arm. He massaged the muscle and replaced the syringe. He knelt back down by Ianto and kissed him again. "I'll need to come back to take more blood from you. You won't be surprised when I come to you in your dreams, Ianto. You'll just accept it. You trust me. You're going to dream about me a lot while I'm away. You'll never remember the details in the morning. You'll just know that you dreamt of me." Jack's voice was melodious and peaceful.

"Okay," Ianto agreed without question.

Jack kissed him again and caressed his face. "I am your Jack, Ianto. I'll always be your Jack," he said, looking into Ianto's eyes, his fingers brushing Ianto's cheek bone. "Sine qua non."

Jack kissed him one last time and then stood. Ianto watched through half-closed eye lids as Jack pressed a button on his wrist strap and disappeared with a flash of light. Ianto closed his eyes again.

Ianto woke the next morning feeling more rested. He had dreamt of Jack again, but it seemed like he was always dreaming of Jack. Usually the dreams were sexual and Ianto woke up sweating, with a throbbing erection. This dream had been different, but he couldn't remember the details. He just had a vague sense of dreaming of Jack in his bedroom. He shook his head slightly as he got out of bed. He showered, dressed, and headed for the Hub. There was work to be done.