Again, this is unbeta'd, sorry!

Written for Torchwood Fest, Day Six: "Nowhere to go"

Day Six - Nowhere To Go

Jack sighed as he checked the CCTV. That man was too stubborn. He took his coat and left the quiet Hub to meet the cold night of Cardiff. He walked to Ianto who was standing against the railing in front of the water. Ianto looked at him briefly then back at the water. He wasn't the same as before. He wasn't that emotionless and enigmatic man who Jack maybe liked a bit too much. He was Ianto Jones, survivor of the Battle of Canary Wharf, a man who had just seen his girlfriend die for the second time. He was sad and broken, and everyone could see it on his face. They had already talked about it, Jack understood, and Ianto didn't blame him. He was slowly admitting to himself that Lisa had been dead the whole time, but it didn't make it any easier. Jack was sure he would bounce on his feet again. But for now he was in suspension and still coming near his workplace.

"Don't you have a flat or something?"

"Not really..." Ianto whispered, staring at the water.

"I've seen it, Ianto."

"I just... don't feel home there. I don't feel safe. I don't have anything to do and it's driving me mad."

"So you're coming here."

"I've got nowhere else to go..."

"Go see your family. Get out of this place for a day or two. You're in suspension, not locked in the cells or at your place."

Ianto nodded, but didn't move.

"How do you deal with it?" He asked instead.

"What?"

"When you close your eyes, when you sleep. How do you deal with death and losses?"

Jack studied Ianto's face, or what he could see of it. It was a blunt question and Jack hadn't expected it. Ianto usually obtained what he wanted without explicitly asking for it. Jack sighed and turned to the water, like Ianto.

"You just keep on living to remember her," he shrugged. "There's no answer to that."

"How do you forget the smell of blood and shit and burnt flesh and the look of your friends, dead?"

"We're not talking about Lisa, are we?"

"Of course we are. But not only. She wasn't the only person I cared about in the building..."

"You survived. I don't know how, I don't know why you, but it's a chance. Make the most of it."

"What if I don't want it?"

"It'll come eventually. You're young Ianto, you've got plenty of time to build another life."

Ianto nodded and stared at the water in silence. Jack did the same until Ianto eventually moved, leaving without another word. Jack stared at him until he disappeared, wondering when Ianto would feel better and how he could help. When he started comparing Ianto's experience to his own life, to Boeshane and Gray's abduction and himself surviving the attack, he shut down his memories and angrily walked back to the Hub. Ianto was making him think of things he had buried years ago and tried not to think about, and he hated that feeling.

Ianto was angry too. He went home, but didn't stay long. Jack hadn't answered his questions and he felt even guiltier than before. For surviving this damn Battle and for still being alive. He didn't want to live but he didn't want to die either. Or maybe he just didn't want to kill himself. He decided that going to the pub was a good alternative, and for a night he managed to forget about Lisa, about his friends, about Canary Wharf, about Jack. Then he kept going, and he didn't ask Jack for advice again.