Doomsday: Post Apocalypse
a Torchwood story
by RoadrunnerGER
Dislaimer: Oh, really! They're the BBC's.
Summary: Ianto comes to Cardiff for a week to help with the archives, but is it as simple as that? Jack/OC, Jack?Ianto
Suspense/hurt/comfort – T – Ianto Jones & Jack Harkness
Chapter 5 – A hard night
"I still can't believe how you talked to Jack," Owen chuckled as they walked down the narrow street along the bay. "I know I told you not to take any crap from him, but, hey, you really have a wicked tongue:"
"We reap what we sow," Ianto shrugged.
Sceptically Owen eyed him from the side. Something in the Welshman's tone told him that there was more to what he was saying.
"What is it?" Owen prodded.
"I shouldn't have done that, Owen," Ianto told him somewhat sheepishly.
He seemed torn which confused Owen. In his opinion Jack needed a strong opposition and that was what Ianto had provided.
"Shouldn't have done what?"
"Talked to him like that," Ianto told him with exasperation. "That was extremely unprofessional."
Owen almost choked on his laughter.
"Don't tell me…" he got out between gasps of laughter, "that you're embarrassed… because you verbally defended yourself."
"I should've been able to put him in his place without getting on his level. He's our boss. There's no excuse for talking to him like that."
Owen was still laughing.
"Owen, I mean it," Ianto huffed and boxed the medic's upper arm before he accelerated his steps. They had almost reached his bedsit.
Catching up on Ianto, Owen took him by the arm to stop him. Even in the scarce street light he could see now that Ianto looked clearly miserable.
"Ianto, what's wrong?" he gently asked. "What's really bothering you?"
"It's like I said," Ianto insisted. "That was unprofessional behaviour."
"Then Jack's to blame as well, don't you think?"
"Yeah," Ianto admitted and tried to escape Owen who would not be so easily shaken off.
"Okay… and what else is wrong?"
Avoiding his gaze Ianto tried to squirm out of Owen's grasp.
"Ianto, I'm your doctor. I won't leave you here on your own if you can't convince me that you're all right."
Suddenly anger filled Ianto's features.
"How can I be all right after what's happened?" he spat with a venom that made Owen realize that he was not talking about his stay in Cardiff. The doctor could not say that he was surprised. He could see how Ianto fought for his composure and especially to keep his voice down when he spoke again, yet still excitedly.
"I forgot, Owen! For a while I forgot my grief! How could I forget? How dare I forget?"
Taking him firmly by both shoulders Owen told him earnestly, "You did not forget, Ianto. Everyone deals differently with grief. Don't expect it to petrify you when it doesn't. That you could banter with us doesn't mean that you're disrespecting anyone's memory. There's a time to grieve, and there's a time to live. Today those lines were blurred, but you shouldn't beat yourself up over it. You did nothing wrong."
"It feels wrong, Owen," Ianto whined. Tears were blurring his sight.
Compassionately Owen squeezed his shoulders. "Shall I stay with you?"
Ianto looked clearly undecided.
"Do you want to come with me? I can sleep on the couch again."
Owen waited, but when Ianto still did not answer he wordlessly took the Welshman by the arm and guided him to the entrance.
"Keys," he commanded and Ianto was too weary to argue. He handed the keys over and Owen let them in.
Upstairs he had to shove the Welshman into the bathroom. It took a while until he was ready. After Owen had tucked Ianto up in bed he sank down on the couch and used the new plaid as a blanket. He listened to Ianto's low sobs until the Welshman had cried himself to sleep. Only then he found sleep as well.
xXx
In another part of Cardiff someone else lay awake. Slowly but surely the fact that Torchwood One was destroyed sank in and despite Jack's reassurances Toshiko could not help but worry about her contract.
He said I'd have to stay five years with Torchwood. If they close the Institute for good they might get the idea to say that I didn't meet the conditions of my release. What then? Would they force me to return to prison?
She choked at that idea.
I can't go back to that place! I'd go mad! Torchwood is dangerous, true, but I'm not locked up. It's challenging work and the others are nice. I could've hit it worse.
Somewhere at the back of her mind a small voice whispered to her that she could have died during the invasion. She quickly silenced it by stating firmly that she could have died anywhere else as well when the Ghosts turned into Cybermen. She could have been shot. She could have been converted. She could have had an accident.
She helped to solve the crisis.
I can be proud to belong to Jack's team. We're doing an important job.
Memories of the last two days haunted her, images flashing in front of her inner eye as soon as she tried to rest. She turned onto the other side and struggled to find a comfortable position. For a few seconds she believed that she could finally drift off to sleep before the unmistakable feeling that the Rift was going to erupt startled her once more.
The Rift was so volatile after the Cybermen came through. Why should it stay calm now? I shouldn't be in bed when an alert could come in any minute.
She sighed.
Maybe it'll be all over soon. When UNIT takes over we all can search for a new job. How much authority will Jack have then?
A chill ran down her spine.
No, Tosh. Don't go there. Jack said they wouldn't dare to do that. UNIT won't take over guarding the Rift. They have enough on their hands as it is.
Turning once more she bunched up her pillow.
I need to have faith in Jack and wait. They won't rush the matter as long as more pressing things demand their attention. The crisis is barely over and we all need to deal with the aftermath. It'll take time to tend to everything.
This time she twisted onto her back. Staring at the ceiling she forced herself to feel optimistic. She trusted Jack. Everything would turn out all right.
In the end her body shut down with sheer exhaustion.
xXx
Being with Jack was different to everything Ydris had experienced before. The captain could be as tender and loving as he was brash and wild. Being treated to soft caresses and kisses he could not help but wonder for a fleeting second if his team knew about the soft core under the tough exterior. Just as quickly as the thought occurred it was gone again, dissolving in an eruption of sensations.
When he fell asleep Ydris could not recall, but when he woke up the space at his side was vacated. Groaning he searched for his watch and found that it still was in the wee small hours.
"Jack?"
Usually he would assume that his lover went to the bathroom or got something to drink, but as he realized with a start that was not the case with Jack. The captain could have many reasons for leaving their bed that ranged from the aforementioned to much more ominous causes. Did he have reason to assume that the captain ran out on him? Yes, he did. As they were at the Hub, though, Ydris could also imagine that Jack had to react to an alert or something.
Though I would have noticed an alert, wouldn't I?
From above he heard the scraping of a chair and footsteps. Jack was in the office, getting up from his desk.
Still surprised how easily I fell into bed with Jack. Ydris scratched the back of his neck. Sure, I've experimented before, so I wasn't exactly a blushing virgin, but still that doesn't explain it.
And that was not the only thing that astonished him. With irritation he realized that he felt jealous when Jack showed interest in someone else… which he did with quite a flourish when Ianto showed up at the Hub.
I have no idea why I feel so possessive. It's not like we're in a relationship or anything. We met, shite, only two days ago.
Now that he thought about it Ydris realized that Ianto was not the only one the captain had flirted with. Whenever a line invited it he would come back with a double entendre or a downright challenge. For Jack flirting seemed to be the default setting.
Ydris recognized that he did not like it.
Who am I kidding? I'm no more than a one-night stand. Well, rather a two-night stand. Or better yet a day-and-night stand.
He sighed.
His love-making isn't shallow, though. He was cautious and tender, unselfish, made me feel cherished. Can't say that about many people.
His stomach grumbled, reminding him that they did not think of having dinner between work and sex.
What the hell am I doing?
Turning onto his other side he tried to ignore the nagging feeling.
Maybe I should think it through. The dashing captain isn't the type for a long-term relationship. He won't hire me either. I'm fooling myself if I believe otherwise. Maybe I should pull the ripcord and stop this madness before I getmyself in too deep.
After leaving the constables the other morning he went to a pub to have some breakfast. During a long walk he tried to clear his head, but in the end he found himself down at Mermaid Quay. He called in sick at work and waited for any sign of Jack Harkness.
I practically hunted him down. Now look where it got me.
Despite his intention to do so, he could not regret it. Hearing voices from above he pushed back the covers and got up.
xXx
Captain Jack Harkness felt neither dashing nor flirtatious as he sat deeply in his leather executive chair, watching CCTV recordings Toshiko had downloaded from Torchwood One's system. At first the load of material hd discouraged him, but then he made sense of the coding and discovered the videos taken down in the sphere chamber.
The sound was hit and miss. Toshiko had been lucky to save the images, but Jack could remember silent movies, and when the sound went out, he could interpret what happened from people's facial expressions and body language.
The man in the brown striped suit and trainers with the unruly hair did not look familiar at all. Still, even if Rajesh had not approached him with admiration, Jack would have recognized him at once by the way he gazed at the sphere. The shockingly blonde woman who came in with the others asked what that thing was and was told by Yvonne that she had no idea.
I haven't seen her before, but still she seems familiar.
His gaze drifted back to the Doctor. An aura of tense curiosity surrounded the Time Lord as he suddenly darted forward and up the stairs and put on coloured glasses.
I think I know why she looks familiar. She looks like Rose. Sweet Rose. Did so much time pass since your last visit here? How old is she? In her forties, now? Wow.
He felt a flash of bitter resentment that she had been granted the opportunity to grow old with the Doctor while he had been condemned to perpetual life and youth and then abandoned.
I shouldn't blame her. She probably didn't have any say in the matter.
'My ship, my rules,' he heard his Doctor say in his memory.
"But I didn't even know I was breaking them," Jack whispered, and to block the tears that were rising in his throat, he downed the rest of his glass of brandy.
Despite the warming effects of the liquor, chills ran down Jack's spine when he heard the Doctor talk about the void ship, confirming his suspicions. Now he was certain that the Doctor had sent the Daleks and Cybermen back into what he called the Void. How exactly he had done it was irrelevant. Jack knew the Doctor and how he solved the most precarious situations. He did not need to see it to believe it.
Still he felt the urge to watch more of the CCTV feeds. Why he tortured himself with searching the recordings for appearances of the Doctor he could not tell. Having missed him was hard enough as it was. Watching him do what he did best only made it worse.
The glass of brandy that Jack had emptied was not the first one and it would not be the last. Of course he knew that alcohol was no solution, but when sex did not help he had to try other options.
And it's not Ydris's fault that it didn't work out for me. He was oh so willing! Much too willing to be exact. Groaning he rubbed the back of his neck. He was sore all over. I wasn't man enough to turn him down. Worse even, I took advantage of him.
Pouring and slugging back yet another glass of brandy Jack tried to drown his sudden repulsion.
Didn't I change one bit? Am I still the same selfish shit that went around shagging everyone and everything just for my own pleasure?
Once more he reached for the bottle. This time he realized what he held in hand. It had been a gift to Alex from a grateful traveller they had been able to help, a handcrafted bottle of fine old brandy that had become part of Jack's inheritance at the turn of the millennium. He should have saved it for a special occasion, shared it with friends, sipping it from a snifter warmed in the palm of his hand to release the aromatic compounds and enhance the flavour. Instead he was slugging it back like cheap moonshine in order to get drunk as fast as possible.
'Really? That's how you want to handle this?' his Doctor's voice challenged him.
Shut up, Jack thought. You only get to talk to me in person.
Even disgusted by himself as he was, he could not stop himself from refilling his water glass and lifting it to his lips, barely taking time to taste the fine liquor as he poured it down his gullet and hoped that it would be enough to numb his sensibilities.
Jack found a video showing a young dark skinned woman and a Caucasian man who went into the construction area that later turned out to be the conversion chambers. They were obviously flirting and for a second Jack smirked wryly at their smitten behaviour.
Can't even remember when I last felt those butterflies in my stomach. It's all gotten so dull. Grey. Uniform. No tension. No surprises… If I didn't crave the company, I could do just as well for myself.
When the young couple showed up again their manners had changed. They appeared rather stiff and wooden as they marched down the hall and Jack felt his stomach churn, realizing that those two had to be among the first victims.
With the realization came the desire for more alcohol and he complied readily. Searching for other videos Jack poured himself another shot of brandy. One more glass and the bottle would be empty. He would have to leave his desk and get more. With a sigh he raised the glass to his lips and let the brandy burn its way down. Clicking on the next file with his right hand he poured the preliminary last glass with his left. The alcohol had not produced the desired effect on him yet.
There was another clip from within the sphere chamber and Jack did a double take, quickly stopping the fast forward and going back a few minutes to watch it again.
"Mickey."
And then there was Rose. She looked just as she had when he last saw her.
Then who's the other blonde woman? Who…? Oh! She must be Rose's mum! Now, why would the Doctor travel with her mother?
'Don't you mean why would I leave you behind?' The Doctor in his mind still had the northern accent of the man who had showed up in World War II London dressed as a U-Boat captain.
"I said shut up," Jack growled quietly.
I've asked myself that often enough. You don't get to torture me with it unless you're here to answer it.
Confusion filled him for a fleeting moment until he watched the sphere open and his heart skipped a beat when the Daleks came out. His insides constricted painfully but he had to keep watching. He had to know what happened to Rose.
'Oh, come on, Jack!' his Doctor's voice prodded. 'If I'm in your head asking, the answer must be kicking around in here somewhere, too.'
The recording ended.
No!
Jack could not even express his horror. As bad as it was to watch, it was even worse not to know what happened. Did Rose get away? Did the Doctor save her?
He downed the brandy.
It hardly burnt anymore. It just slipped past the lump in his throat and soaked the dumpling of self-pity that sat in his stomach and grew with every gulp of liquor that Jack downed. His insides constricted around the enormous ball of hurt and made him even more sore.
The sight of the empty bottle made Jack feel hollow. Having no other means to fill the empty space he pushed his chair back to get up and search for more alcohol. There had to be another bottle of brandy in the cupboard and if there was no brandy then there would be whiskey.
Old whiskey. At least twelve years old, most likely older.
'What a waste,' his Doctor lamented.
Yeah, Jack agreed. It's good stuff.
'Wasn't talking about the whiskey.'
"Thought I told you to shut the hell up," Jack slurred.
With a full bottle of Glenmorangie he returned to his desk and started to fast forward the CCTV feed again. The whiskey burned more than the brandy.
There!
There he was, the Doctor, slouching in a chair opposite Yvonne Hartman. Their conversation was interrupted and Yvonne jumped up, demanding to know why they were going into ghost shift. A moment later the video ended.
"No…" Jack groaned.
This time he did not bother to pour a drink and lifted the bottle instead. Taking two big gulps was a mistake and he coughed violently. A second later he was choking, liquid shooting back up into his throat and he clapped a hand over his mouth to keep himself from spewing. Reflexively he tried to gulp it down again as he frantically turned to the bin. He managed to keep the liquor in but felt even more horrible now.
'Maybe now would be a good time to switch to tea, Jack,' his Doctor's voice admonished gently.
Play naïve all you want, Jack thought back at him as he reached for the bottle desperately, clinging to it like a drowning man, and drinking again to make the ghost of his past go away. You know very well what I'm trying to do, and it's your fault!
When the voice did not respond, he spoke aloud.
"I said, it's your fault!"
He waited a moment, but still got no answer. The Doctor had left him. Again.
"Coward," Jack grumbled, and gulped some more whiskey.
You didn't care when you left me behind on that damn game station! Leaving me in this… state. What did you do to me? Turning me into an abomination! First I thought coming back was my curse, but, no! The worst part is knowing that I haven't changed, haven't learned, that I'm still the same selfish jerk you met all those years ago, and if Ydris were here and willing, I'd use him all over again.
A burp escaped him, rolling and rumbling over his lips in a long flow of noises.
'Now that's attractive,' came the dry comment in his mind.
"Bugger off," Jack muttered, took another slug of whiskey, and belched again, just for spite.
Is this your way of punishing me? I knew you had a wicked sense of humour but this is just cruel, making me believe I could be so much more, bigger on the inside, you called it, and then cursing me with more than enough time to realize and regret all the bad things I've ever done… generally being a terrible person… you knew and you… did this!
He drank again, long and deep.
"Bastard!" he whispered fiercely, and he was not sure anymore whether he was still talking to his Doctor or to himself.
"Hey, who are you talking to?"
Startled, Jack put the bottle down. His slightly unsteady gaze turned to the hole in the office floor where Ydris climbed off the ladder.
"No one," he slurred. Judging by the younger man's shocked expression he must be more drunk than he thought. "What do you want?"
"Nothing," Ydris said. "I… just woke up and heard you up here. Thought I'd check what you're doing."
Jack sneered. "And you got fully dressed just to do that?" When he left his lover he was in bed, naked. Who gave him permission to get up and leave when Jack wanted to screw him so hard that he forgot his own name? He should get up and tear off the Welshman's clothes.
"No, I'm hungry," Ydris replied, unapologetically. "I wanted to get us something to eat." Eyeing Jack closely he added, "Looks like you need a hearty meal."
"You don't have to tell me what I need!" Jack barked. "What gives you that idea?"
"Just friendly advice."
At that Jack shot up from his seat and the crystal tumbler that was in his reach flew past Ydris to shatter on the wall. "I don't need your advice! Leave me alone!"
The young man was about to argue but thought better of it. Grabbing his jacket from the coat rack he wordlessly left the office and the Hub.
Jack watched him go and never thought to call him back. In his leaving, Ydris had given him the answer that the voice in his mind could not.
With a groan Jack plonked back down in his chair. Not without grabbing the bottle, though. It would bring him oblivion, at least for a short while.
tbc…