"I killed three girls."
Jack shuddered quite violently as the voice kept playing around in his head like a broken phonograph on repeat, again and again, the needle still working as the record spun even while the person tried to shut it off and block out the sounds. Jack couldn't 't stop the repetition, the sickening and far of tone embedded deep in his brain to taunt him and haunt him forever. The deep Welsh vowels Jack thought he adored and wished to hear always reliving what happened in a sick fantasy as he confessed with a mix of guilt and glee. The hint of satisfaction or arousal while Jack had only ever really heard in his bed (or elsewhere they fucked) but rather than turn him on, it made the Captain want to throw up.
He had sat in the half-dark, sweat drenching and wavering voice. Eyes not really focused as they stared off into the memories that held him, confessing right there and then to Jack. He had told, begged, Ianto to stop kidding around, stop making sick jokes, this wasn't a subject to laugh about with. But there was something in his stature, his gaze, or maybe his tone that told Jack this wasn't a game, making his stomach twist.
He thought he knew Ianto Jones but he was clearly wrong.
"I killed three girls. Strangled them."
Another shuddered travel through his body and Jack groaned. He ran his hands through his hand following the path over his face, digging the heel of his palms into his eyes to drive away the sights. Things didn't always affect Jack but this had, and it had hit him hard. Driven deep and rocked his core, everything he thought about Ianto was breaking around him and he didn't know what to think. The Captain grabbed a tumbler, pouring a generous amount of golden, many years old whisky into it and downing it without a second thought. He cursed himself and his immortality for making it virtually impossible for him to get drunk and wash away the thoughts, the sounds, the memories. It burnt his throat as it went down but Jack savoured it, eyes shut.
An image popped up to him, from just so many hours ago. Down in his bunker, with the sheets a mess and clothes were strewn everywhere, Jack tumbling around with Ianto, laughing as they slipped and bashed in the small space. Ianto's face slick with beads of sweat, his mouth open wide as he moaned, skilful hands traversing Jack's equally wet body, their hips moving together as they set a rhythm, hot and breathless kisses as things got more and more heated, the look of pure ecstasy on Ianto's face and in Ianto's eyes as he came, the bliss and quiet calm down after, the pillow talk with tangled limbs, the gentle caresses and holding one another until they fell asleep-
Abruptly it changed in a flash, Ianto's face twisting to something dark, his mouth now at a snarl, his hands coated with blood and wrapped around Jack's neck, hips trapped beneath his, breathless gasps and unable to breathe, the look of pure ecstasy as Jack's life began to leave, the dragging again broken glass as he came back, the taunting all around him, the harsh touches and Ianto Jones killing him again and again and again-
Jack forced his open quick and let his body give into another shudder. A soft sob left his lips and he buried his face in his hands again for just a moment. Next, he poured more whiskey. Another glass, another glass, another glass, all swallowed swiftly and lighting up his throat and none of it helped.
"You have to put me in the vaults. Lock me up. I killed three girls. Strangled them."
A lot had happened to Jack that evening, a lot had happened to them all really. Gwen losing her memory of Rhys not too long after her return from her holiday. She held her gun out at her fiance while Jack tried to defuse the situation. Adam being there for her and subsequently for him. The weevil hunt, not finding anything there except the past memories he wished hadn't been dredged up against his will. Confessing to Adam, letting it all fall out as he was forced to remember losing his little brother and find his father dead, his mother screaming for them to come back and turning cold and cruel on her only son left just for surviving. Jack had come back to the Hub intend on drowning away his sorrows with a good and rough fuck, maybe some alcohol, then sleeping it off. But as he had bound up the stairs, mind still reeling, a voice had called him.
Ianto
The one person he had been seeking out, the one who he knew he could trust, the one who could make him forget, kiss him passionately, fuck him hard, drive it away, and hold him, tell Jack he loves him. Jack had smiled to himself, laughed at himself for being so on edge, giggling at the fact that Ianto Jones had managed to spook him.
Moving close, he had taken one look at the man and-
"You have to put me in the vaults." What? "Lock me up." Never "I killed three girls." No…"Strangled them." Ianto...
The Welshman had insisted and insisted, determined to be shut away from the rest of them, wanting- no needing to be away in case he hurt anyone else. Keep him away with the Weevils and Hoixes as his neighbours. Flinching so suddenly and leaping out of his seat, stalking away to the Vaults with purposeful and heavy strides, his mind fixed on this wholly. Jack was left bewildered and taken back by it all. Yet, he was sure he would hurt others so what choice did Jack have.
"You have to lock me away before I turn on you. None of you is safe."
Jack hadn't stopped him, hadn't grabbed his arms tightly, held him close and demanded to know what was the matter. He didn't pull the man into a hug, no cradling his head and gently shushing him, no comforting him. Instead, Jack had chased behind, followed closely with an ever watching eye and suspicion around everything. Stopped before an empty cell, thinking things through as the Welshman waited patiently to be thrown away, eyes dead set on the door, nobody saying a word as his shoulders shook and sobs left his lips.
He held nothing on his person except his leather-bound diary and stopwatch. All weapons and other possessions stripped away before Jack arrived. Staring down at them, Jack had swiped his thumb over the little button at the top and the neat but simple engraving he had put in the back for his lover.
I came back for you, Jh
After that, Jack, with a small shred of doubt worrying its way at his mind and a huge hole of hurt and betrayal in his heart, had sealed Ianto Jones in a cell, determined to get to the bottom of it all before leaving.
"You know what you have to do." A voice spoke right into his ear and Jack jumped back in his seat, head swinging to the side. Adam was beside him and somehow, somewhere he hadn't realised the man had shown up. He looked sombre, brow furrowed and frown on his face as his hand came up to squeeze Jack's shoulder. It was at that moment, Jack remembered Adam being there with him, of course, he had been. Jack blamed it all on his mind drifting away and getting lost as well as the emotions of the day and everything in between. Adam had helped him after Jones had confessed in a spur of the moment and tried to run. They got him together, dragging him down to the vaults as the Archivist had struggled, uncooperative and screaming the whole way. Jack rubbed at his face again, feeling as though that was all he kept doing before pouring more whiskey into the two tumblers beside him, handing one to the blonde.
"He's not safe. He has to go, he would have hurt us soon enough." Adam stated and Jack nodded with contempt, face drawn into an almost permanent scowl as he loaded up the cameras in the Vaults, selecting the one that held Jones. He was pacing, moving around his cell like a paranoid creature, sobbing pathetically and pulling at his hair. Jack's hand twisted towards his Webley sat snug in its holster as Adam tutted, head shaking in shame, hand still on Jack's shoulder although he hardly noticed. He kept thinking about Jones. Unable to think about anything else, Jack couldn't help but know it was true. He had killed those girls. He knew it and it made him furious that he didn't stop it before three girls were dead. Knocking back the last tumbler of golden liquid, he stood, diary and stopwatch forgotten and discarded on his desk.
For now, he would wait for the others. He wanted their input, they needed to know.
Owen was the first to show up at the Hub just like always, always in on time and always the last to leave. He had a bunch of nicely arranged white flowers in a white box which he dropped off at Tosh's desk. Jack didn't say a word as he locked eyes with him, he wasn't in the mood for jokes. He let the doctor squirrel away into his autopsy bay, for now, flicking through a book as he waited.
Tosh appeared second, Adam leaving later in the night to go be with her, both appearing through the cog door with Adam guiding Tosh along with his arm draped over her shoulder, hand gently touching the joint. They were happy and beaming, kissing softly which hit something inside Jack which he might have called jealousy or even sadness. Tosh took in the flowers which awaited her with a brighter smile, smelling them as Adam took his seat.
Owen and Tosh talked over something that Jack wasn't interested in just before Gwen came into work, looking a little brighter and more relaxed than she had the previous day. Jack took it to mean she had regained some memories or had some level of trust restored between her and Rhys. He was happy for them, one relationship restored despite another being broken. Adam drew them all into a hug as a celebration but Jack didn't join, he couldn't.
Jack decided to let them carry on with their morning dos just a little longer as he settled back into his chair. He'd let Jones stew for a bit longer, let the Welshman wallow in his own self-pity and guilt, allow him to relive his crimes and hopefully, somewhere, find remorse and the want for redemption. He was too absorbed in sorting out his papers and documents now that his PA was a vacant spot, Jack didn't notice Adam slinking off from his desk, nor did he hear the faint screams of agony from the cells that definitely, if he caught it, would know wasn't a Weevil.
Rage bubbled in his core as the minutes stretched along, the mind never quiet leaving behind the thoughts of what Jones had done. He still couldn't understand where it had all gone wrong.
"It's not your fault." Adam was there again, as always, walking up from behind him and there to comfort Jack. It's like he knew exactly what he was thinking, able to help him like he did yesterday night. The Captain nodded in agreement, Adam's hand patting his shoulder affectionately. Jack had once again been double-crossed by someone close to him, by someone who had already once been so disloyal to him, all of them and almost got them killed. He realised then, as Adam's hand squeezes the joint, that he should never have given Jones the second chance, shouldn't have spared him that night, shouldn't have let him into his bed, shouldn't have let him exist, then those women would have still been alive.
"You're right," Adam said after Jack explained his thoughts and feelings to the man before he was going to round up the team for a meeting. A hand patted Jack's shoulder as they walked.
Remember.
He couldn't quite believe it. Three- no five- no ten women. Jones had confessed to murdering and raping ten women and Jack had no clue this whole time. Jack couldn't see what he saw in the man - monster - and hated himself for letting Jones into his bed and heart. It was probably another way he manipulated Jack, just liked before and that wounded the Immortal's pride. Jack thought back to Jones in his cell, a mess of emotions and something tragic. However, he didn't deserve to cry nor receive pity, not for his crimes, the horrid acts which could trump anything they had dealt with at Torchwood.
Days later and things were tense. The five of them were down in the Vaults, waiting silently beside a dirtied cell door as Jack heaved the heavy door open. Nobody said a word as he entered the cell and returned less than a minute with him in tow. His hands tangled tightly in matted and unwashed black hair, tugging hard to drag the broken man across the grimy floor in his ruined suit - tugging hard at the soft curls to make Ianto moan obscenely as Jack rocked his hips forward, both on the soft bed. He only stopped when they were back in front of the others, forcing him to his knees where he sat trembling, shoulders shaking, bottom lip quivering. His eyes were wet and gwaping at everything they didn't see. His face was a mess of snot, sweat, and tears, hands bound behind him with metal cuffs to stop him hurting anyone else but not worried about cutting into the delicate skin.
Owen stood off to the side, body hunched in on himself and eyes downcast as they occasionally glanced to the sorry sight before them. Gwen beside him, heart conflicted over many things at once as she stood in horror knowing what had happened and what was to happen. Tosh has her face buried in Adam's shoulder, body shivering as she was unable to look, having lost a good friend to something so evil while her boyfriend glared down at him in pure disgust. Jack just stood, feet planted apart, face emotionless despite the cloud of resentment and severe loss inside.
"Jack-" He started to say, Welsh vowel unsteady and cracking, throat dry and sore from sobbing. Jack's lip lifted in an animalistic snarl and he swung his fist, knuckle catching him against the jaw with a hard thwack and forcing his head back, momentum making him tumble to the floor and unable to catch himself as he collided with the cold ground. Jack didn't let him recover, bunching up the front of his suit and hauling him back up with a bleeding nose that streamed down his face - bunching up the front of his suit and bringing him into a fierce kiss, Jack pouring almost all emotion into it. To Jack, he wasn't the dapper butler stroke Archivist that he thought he had come to love.
"You don't get to speak to me." A sob fell from his lips, spraying a few droplets of dark blood and catching on Jack's shirt and face. He wiped it from his cheek, annoyed and disgusted "You don't speak to any of us."
Jack forced himself to completely ignore the terrified and helpless looking in those once mesmerising blue eyes as he took his gun from its holster. Jack forced down the lump in his throat and told himself that this was the right thing, he was a monster and a danger to the people of Cardiff. Maybe Jack should have let the Heddlu sort things out but there were things at risk and retconning him would have been too kind. The Captain didn't look back at the others while he pressed the cold muzzle to the expanse of his forehead with enough pressure to hurt - pressed a tender kiss to Ianto's forehead as Jack's thumb brushed his cheek lovingly. He closed his eyes and Jack pushed it down harder, half growling as he spoke. "Open your eyes and face me like a man."
Jack didn't flinch as the gun cracked deafeningly in the small area and he certainly didn't look back as the body slumped backwards with a thud, dead.
Jack stared down at the book in his hands, knuckles brushing along the leather cover in wonder and curiosity. It had been lying around the Hub for the past few days and Jackhadn't had a chance to look at it yet, it wasn't any of the teams as none of them had come claiming it and even if it was, Jack was evil enough to snoop around in a few of their secrets, not all but a few. It was old and well used, heavy with writing and memories, more pieces of paper and photos sticking out at the edges with corners dog-earred and turning a little yellow with use. Theleather was scratched and worn but luckily not falling apart. Jack speculated that it had fallen through the Rift maybe, they did often have personal items to other life forms fall through as well as junk and weapons.
When he had finished admiring the cover, Jack opened it up. Something dropped out of it, which had previously been held inside with the pages bound tight to stop it leaving but now it drifted to the floor. It did take Jack by surprise and he placed the book down to pick it up. It was clearly a photo, glossy on one side while matt white on the other. A date was scribbled on the back of it in neat and steady handwriting Jack didn't recognise.
01/06/08 - J + I, T's Bday
He turned it over with more curiosity over who J, I and T were as well as the importance of the date. Was it 2008? Maybe 5008 or even 207508. Or not even any of the Earth calendars. However, as Jack flipped it over, there was his face. His own human face, with his bright smile, his faultless teeth, his jawline everyone yearned for. It was his own body in his usual attire of a shirt - this one navy blue - and trousers, silver suspenders holding them up. His ever present wrist strap was there too. The only thing different was his gun holster was missing but from the setting, it looked like it wasn't necessary.
A beer sat before him on a table accompanied by a plate of chips, only half eaten, Jack was sitting in a booth. The memory clicked and Jack remembered it. It had been Tosh's birthday and Jack had taken the team out for a treat, the Rift had predicted a quiet night for them and no Weevils were roaming. The five of them had a crazy time at the nearest bowling alley, eating a load of junk food, drinking way too much beer, and Adam winning each and every round of bowling. It was a fond memory he remembered well, which was why the person sitting beside Jack, smiling along with him in a red button down with his sleeves rolled up and exposing some nice arms, was a complete stranger. He couldn't put a name to them. They were clearly male, face pale while a little flushed, a very cute button nose pressed to Jack's cheek, smile just as wide as the Captain's, their fingers entwined from where Jack's hand hung from his shoulders.
They were happy. Very happy but Jack didn't know him. Did he?
Then why did his heart tug?
Jack began to flick through the book further, finding it was actually a diary and all of it was written in the same handwriting as on the photograph. He found more and more images of the same man with his team, with a similar looking lady and two children Jack didn't know, another woman lost to jack who seemed to be the man's girlfriend or an ex by what was written. There was Moses, his cat, and things deep in the archives that sat on their shelves and had never been in the hands of anyone outside Torchwood. Codes Jack knew existed but weren't assigned to anyone, details on weevils hunts, drawing of aliens that had visited the Hub. The Doctor was there too, written about in a very angry paragraph. Things on everyone, even the Queen and the other Torchwood institutes. And last of all, talked about a lot, was Jack. Things about Jack. Things like his smile, his laugh, his hands, his clothes, his cock, his arse...
Yet, Jack soon realised after reading through some very graphic yet interesting recounts of something he did with someone he didn't know but now wished he remembered, one person had not been mentioned throughout the whole thing, no photos, no little quips about him, not even a quick "Oh so and so did this today". Adam. Adam was missing while each and every other detail was spot on. That discovery settled something uneasy in his stomach and Jack couldn't pinpoint it but it wouldn't leave. It was enough for Jack to start investigating. Thankfully, the team had left hours ago, everyone tired from one hell of a Weevil hunt. Four of the bastards had decided to let loose on the city but to their relief no one was hurt, not even Jack this time. So, Jack settled back in his seat and pulled up Adam's personal file. He read through it all but found everything correct all the while something niggled at the back of his mind.
Acting on an odd hunch Jack didn't know why he had, he got up and headed to Owen's medical bay, hopping down the stairs to make things quicker. The Captain told himself this was going to be nothing, he would find Adam's blood sample and just reassure himself that things were okay. Jack wouldn't find anything sinister and he certainly didn't believe a diary of which he didn't know the owner over his teammate he had known for three years. Pulling the door open, Jack carefully snatched up the holder which held multiple samples of each of their blood in case ever needed. It reminded Jack that they would need to renew the sample soon. Spinning it around slowly, Jack scanned the labels, reading the horizontal names of each.
Jack Harkess, Gwen Cooper, Toshiko Sato, Owen Harper, and...Ianto Jones.
Yet still no Adam.
Jack glanced away at nothing in particular, thinking for a moment. Thinking hard as something sat on the tip of his tongue and at the front of his mind but nothing he could grasp. He spun the holder again, and double, triple checked the names.
Jack Harkess, Gwen Cooper, Toshiko Sato, Owen Harper, Ianto Jones. Jack Harkess, Gwen Cooper, Toshiko Sato, Owen Harper, Ianto Jones.
Not a single vial there for Adam, no blood from Adam amongst the rest of the team and now Jack was beginning to question things. And he still had little clue as to who Ianto Jones was and why he was in Torchwood.
Hastily leaving the med bay and blood samples behind, Jack went back to his desk. He took a deep breath before continuing, taking a moment to think things through. Did he want to go further? Jack wasn't sure if he was going to find out something he didn't want to know but curiosity killed the cat and Jack knew he would always come back. With that thought in mind, he brought to the rest of the personal files, scanning them through just to assure himself that they were really. He took another look through Adam's, confused now.
He wasn't expecting the mysterious and handsome face to pop up with the equally mysterious and pleasing to say name and a whole personal file on him. Knowing for certain that the face in the photo and the name and the blood in the vials belong to the same man, Jack sat back. Reaching one of his fancy decanters, Jack filled a tumbler with centuries old whiskey and sipped it slowly. He thought about Adam and he thought about this Ianto Jones, his mind tingling and rolling through things and Jack was sure something was missing there. Where was Adam's blood sample? Why wasn't he in the diary? Why was he trusting the diary? Who was Ianto Jones and what was he to Jack?
A colleague? A friend? A lover?
With the glass refilled and stopper put back in the decanter, Jack rooted through the files some more, not sure what he was looking for but it made itself clear when he discovered it. Despite his file looking perfectly normal and like everyone else's (even Ianto Jones' one) Adam's had updated his information no longer than 144 hours ago and any time before that, the file had never existed. Six days Adam had been with Torchwood and no longer than that, definitely not three years. Except, Jack's own memories told him very differently, they showed the blond man being there with him responding to Rift alerts, comforting Tosh after she was manipulated by and then lost Mary, mixing the teams blood sample together to reluctantly save John- yet now Jack knew his blood couldn't have been there, he had no samples to have mixed with...none of them said anything at the time, Owen didn't mention it.
Now, as Jack thought more and more about Adam, he realised something that should have been a clear cut from the very start. Whenever he thought about his team, he felt a sense of pride, warmth, love, for each and every one of them however those feelings were absent whenever Adam's face appeared. Even though the man was the one to help him with so many memories and horrors, Jack couldn't feel any gratitude to him, nothing at all…
But this Ianto Jones...there was something there. He didn't see Adam Smith as family but he saw something in Ianto Jones.
Time passed in a blur as Jack kept looking into things but his investigation was put on temporary hold as the Hub itself lit up brightly and Jack was blinded by the brightness. He hadn't realised he had stayed up through the night but it wasn't uncommon, he didn't sleep much and he had no one to share the bed with tonight, no one night stand this time. The familiar proximity klaxon sounded as the wheel door rolled open slowly. Jack didn't leave his office just yet, thinking through the best course of action, he could just confront Adam immediately and demand the truth or he could try to persuade his team one by one but that could take some time and Jack wasn't sure he had time. Owen might have been the easiest to influence, Jack knew he loved Tosh and would be willing to get rid of someone who might have been a danger to her. Gwen would be trouble, she cared so much for them all but wouldn't condemn someone without clear reason, she might request a fair trial of sorts, wait for things to blow over, suggest Jack had forgotten Adam as she did Rhys. That would leave Tosh but she wouldn't budge, Jack could already guess that. She was dating Adam, and had been apparently for at least a year. She was devoted to that man and Jack worried she was being forced into things for a man she thought she adored but was never really given a choice.
Jack sighed very deeply, hand skimming across the diary that had set things off. In the new lighting, Jack noticed a silver pocket watch on the wooden surface, tilting his head in slight question as he picked it up. It wasn't his, hiis pocketwatch was gold and currently attached to his person. He swiped his thumb over the little button at the top then flipped it over into his other palm. An engraving sat on the back, simple but neat with cursive writing.
I came back for you, Jh
The Captain sat up slightly, reading it again. He had said that after The Year That Never Was, once he had arrived back home to his team. Jack had come back for them all. Home to Tosh, Owen, Gwen, and Adam. Gwen, angry that he had left, Tosh asking where he went, Owen wanting to know if he was fixed, Adam- Adam, he...
As Jack turned his head to the left, he spotted the man in question. He was chatting away to Gwen who was laughing, Owen was disappearing into his domain and Tosh probably at her own space. It was then did Jack know what he needed to do. Storming from his office, the pocket watch left behind with the diary, Jack unholstered his Webley and clicked the hammer back, drawing everyone's attention to him. He didn't look at anyone but Adam, and the gun pointed steadily at him.
"Talk to me Adam, if that's even your name."
Jack groaned softly as he woke, a terrible crick in his neck and his back aching. He turned, planning on burrowing his face further into his pillow but instead whacking his forehead against a wall. It forced his eyes open and Jack found he was in the Vaults. He was sitting beside an empty one which definitely explained his neck and back but he couldn't figure out why he was here. He certainly hadn't been drunk, Jack hadn't been drunk in years.
So Jack got up, stretched out his back and rubbed his neck still both either gave a satisfying pop or lost their tension. He wore clothes he didn't remember putting on. As he went to move he noticed something on the ground. A diary, Ianto's diary to be specific. Jack picked it up with a smile, wondering why it was down of all places and with him when Ianto kept it so safe. He wondered if they had some fun with some new ideas down here but Jack wasn't entirely convinced that Ianto would want to have sex or something close to sex in front of the weevils and other guests. But if they had, Jack was sorely disappointed that he couldn't remember it. And he was really confused as to why he couldn't remember it. Jack flicked open the diary, just smiling at Ianto's writing, smiling at what went through his mind at that time and just tracing his finger along the letters. As he went through the pages, only slight guilt hit him as he read Ianto's secret thoughts, a photo dropped by his boot.
Picking it up, Jack flipped it over and smiled a little more. Him and Ianto enjoying themselves at Tosh's birthday party in one of Cardiff's bowling alleys. He hadn't known the photo was taken but Jack was glad he had found it and knew he was going to ask Ianto about it.
With an unyielding grin and thoughts on his lover, Jack almost skipped up the stairs.