Author's Notes: Well, this chapter has very nearly driven me insane, so I'm just hoping it's okay. Thanks as always to everyone following and supporting the story. And special thanks to the incredibly generous Prothrombintime for reassurance, suggestions and encouragement.
Chapter Twenty
September 23rd, 2004 (continued)
The brief journey from the Hub to Ianto's apartment was silent but not particularly uncomfortable. They'd taken Ianto's car, Jack having insisted on driving, and Ianto not having the inclination to protest. He understood it was one of those times where Jack needed to assert himself and be the caretaker.
Ianto was lost in his thoughts as he stared out into lights and bustle of the early Cardiff evening. All around were ordinary people going about their lives, oblivious to the perilous events that had taken place earlier in the day, and completely ignorant of the sacrifice of one brave soul who had died long before most of them had even been born. Just for a moment he envied them as he tried to imagine what his life might be like if he'd never heard of Torchwood. He idly wondered where he might be living, who he'd be with, what sort of job he might have... he wondered if in that other reality he'd be happy... just going about his day-to-day life, blissfully unaware of the myriad dangers threatening his existence.
Stealing a sideways glance at Jack's shadowed profile, he noted the weariness in Jack's features, an almost palpable sense of defeat seeming to fill the confined space.
Mentally shaking himself, Ianto tried to dispel his pointless thoughts. Thinking about what might have been was an utterly futile endeavour. All of his choices had led him to Jack, and he realised that was something he could never regret. While he had no idea what fate had in store for him, he'd found a place for himself at Jack's side. There was a strange sort of peace in that knowledge, a sense of confidence that he was where he belonged, quite possibly for the first time in his life.
He'd been surprised when Jack had agreed to spend the night with him, although a part of him wondered if Jack had done so out of a sense of obligation, rather than because of a genuine desire to be with him. He tried to reassure himself that it wasn't really Jack's style – when it came to his personal life, Jack Harkness didn't seem to be a man who did anything that wasn't of his own choosing. But it was possible that out of concern for Ianto's emotional state, Jack simply hadn't wanted to refuse.
They were in a murky grey area where the lines between their personal and professional relationships were blurred. Jack had become such an important and fundamental part of his life, he wasn't sure if he could make the distinction any longer. And as thankful as he was for Jack's presence, he regretted that it was the result of a needy appeal in a moment of weakness. He supposed he just wanted Jack to stay with him of his own volition.
They soon arrived at the apartment. Closing the door behind them, Ianto kicked off his shoes, for once not caring where they landed. Jack then did the same with his boots, and Ianto helped him take off his greatcoat, hanging it by the door. Ianto removed his tie and slipped off his suit jacket, depositing them in the bedroom while Jack wandered over to the sofa. Moving into the kitchen, Ianto distractedly unfastened the top buttons of his shirt and rolled up his sleeves.
"Drink?" he asked, retrieving the bottle of Scotch he always kept on hand along with two glasses, and glancing over to where Jack had sat down.
"Yeah," he heard Jack reply. "Thanks."
Ianto wearily eased himself down next to Jack, pouring a glass and passing it to the other man before generously filling his own. "To Tommy," he said reverently, clinking his glass gently against Jack's.
"To Tommy," Jack repeated with a small nod, his voice soft but filled with emotion.
Neither of them spoke for a minute or so. Finally, Jack raised his glass to his lips and tossed back the liquor in one loud gulp.
He held his empty glass out expectantly, and Ianto refilled it a little less liberally, putting the bottle down on the table before taking a sip of his own drink. He rolled the strong liquor around in his mouth for a few seconds, before allowing it to slide smoothly down his throat. While the idea of getting rat-faced drunk was incredibly appealing, he didn't think it would do either of them much good. Besides, with Jack's fifty-first century constitution, he would probably only be loosening up by the time Ianto was passed out face-down on the carpet.
"Do you want some dinner?" he asked, breaking the silence as he stared down into the dark amber contents of his glass. "I could heat up some soup, or we could order a pizza?"
"Thanks, but I'm not hungry." Jack stretched out his long legs and slumped back against the sofa. "Go ahead and get something for yourself if you want."
Ianto shook his head. "No, I'm not hungry either."
He turned to observe Jack, who looked more lost and forlorn than he could recall seeing before. Jack swiftly drank half the contents of his refill, then nursed the glass on his knee as he stared down at it. Tommy's loss had clearly affected Jack deeply, and Ianto felt a knot of guilt twist unpleasantly inside him as he recalled his earlier brusque behaviour.
Tentatively, he placed his hand on Jack's knee. "I'm sorry," he murmured.
Jack frowned, raising his eyes to meet Ianto's. "What for?"
Ianto sighed. "Earlier... in the morgue. I was angry... I took it out on you."
Jack waved his empty hand vaguely in dismissal. "I understand. You were upset about Tommy. I've seen that look plenty of times before. It's how people look at me when..." His voice wavered and he lowered his gaze again. "...when they think I'm a monster."
Ianto's eyes widened in horror, his hand slipping off Jack's knee as Jack pulled away from him slightly, almost seeming to shrink into himself. He could never imagine thinking of Jack in that way. Jack might be ruthless at times, but only out of necessity, and as Ianto had proven with Tommy, he could be equally ruthless if required. The truth was, they were both complicit in knowingly sending a man to his death.
He wondered how many times Jack had been required to do something similar before, making an impossible but necessary decision and then tormenting himself in the aftermath. In Tommy's case there hadn't even been a choice... from their point of view, Tommy had already been dead. All they'd done was ensure history played out the way it was supposed to.
"No," Ianto said insistently. "Jack, no, that's not what I was thinking. You're not a monster, you're a good man." He paused and took a deep breath. "Yes, I was angry with the situation. I still am, but..." He quickly swallowed some more of his drink, wincing this time as the burn hit the back of his throat. "It wasn't just that. It was also because... it was because I realised how I felt about you... about us... and I didn't know how to deal with it. I still don't, actually."
Jack looked at him, the anguish in his features giving way to what seemed to be equal measures of fear and wariness. "Ianto..."
"When we started this," Ianto continued hurriedly, anxious to explain. "I said I wasn't asking for anything, and I'm not. It's just... I'm not sure what this is anymore. If I'm just a part-time shag–"
"Is that what you think?" Jack asked sharply, sitting up straighter and narrowing his eyes. "That this is just about sex for me?"
Ianto shook his head. "No. At least, I hoped it wasn't. But before yesterday, we'd never spent a night together... I've never woken up to find you still there. We... we have sex and it's... well, uh... obviously you know how much I enjoy it... how much I like being with you... but then you leave. Surely you can understand how that might seem?"
"That's not all we do together," Jack argued, but to Ianto's surprise, there was a look of regret in his eyes. "We do other things too... things that have nothing to do with sex. If that's all I wanted, I could get that anywhere."
"I know." Ianto scrubbed his hand across his face, ruefully wishing he hadn't opened this particular can of worms, especially with their frayed emotional states. "I suppose that's why I'm confused. If all we did together was have sex, I'd know where I stand. I don't even know if you're sleeping with other people. I don't know if I even have the right to ask."
Jack visibly tensed, a scowl marring his forehead. "Even if I wanted to be with other people, which I don't by the way... when exactly would I find the time to do that?" A hint of irritation had seeped into his voice.
Ianto shrugged. "Well, you don't seem to sleep very much."
He steeled himself as Jack looked like he was about to unleash an angry retort, but instead Jack drew in a deep breath and his features relaxed. "There's no one else, Ianto. I haven't been with anyone else since before I met you."
"Oh," Ianto replied in astonishment. He'd hoped there hadn't been anyone else since he and Jack had become involved, but there had also been the six months prior to that. It seemed improbable that Jack and his intimidating libido had remained celibate for the entire time.
Jack was looking at him intently. "What about you?"
Ianto shook his head slightly in confusion, still trying to process Jack's startling admission. "Sorry?"
"Have you been with anyone else?" Jack asked, seeming to struggle to get the words out.
"No... no, of course not. There hasn't been anyone except you since Lisa." Ianto paused awkwardly and breathed out a weary sigh. "I want to be with you, Jack... just with you."
Jack nodded, looking relieved, but the wariness in his eyes remained. "You scare the hell out of me, Ianto. You know that?"
Ianto stared at Jack uncertainly, wondering if he was expecting him to respond. "I can't imagine you being scared of anything," he murmured, knowing he was dissembling. "You're the bravest person I've ever known."
Jack shook his head, making a derisive noise. "Sure, when I'm out there dealing with whatever the Rift decides to throw at us next. That's easy. Whatever happens to me physically, I heal, and I'm as good as new." The bitterness in Jack's words was unmistakeable. Jack balled his hand into a fist and pounded it hard against the left side of his chest. "But this... this doesn't heal. And no matter what happens between us, there's only one thing I know for certain. One day I'm going to lose you, just like I've lost everyone else I've ever cared about."
"Jack..." Ianto whispered, his heart clenching with despair for Jack's suffering, and hating the thought that he might one day add to it.
"I've tried to stop things from getting too serious between us," Jack continued, becoming visibly more distressed. "Partly because I was scared, but partly because you deserve so much more than I can give you." He hastily swallowed the rest of his drink, setting the glass down forcefully on the table in front of them, then looked at Ianto earnestly. "I should let you go, Ianto... I should get you as far away from me and Torchwood as I can. But I'm a selfish bastard and I can't do it... I can't push you away. I need you too much."
Ianto felt a tremor of fear as he considered that Jack might, in a moment of impulsive martyrdom, decide to retcon him and send him away somewhere – far away from Torchwood, and from Jack, with no memories of either. The thought chilled him to the core, and if Jack decided to do that, he knew he'd be powerless to stop him.
"Jack, this is my choice, it's where I belong... where I can make a difference." Ianto looked directly into Jack's eyes, willing him to understand he'd never want Jack to take away his right to live his life as he chose, no matter how well intended but misguided the other man's motives.
Torchwood and Jack were his life now, and he couldn't lose that. He supposed he was being selfish too. If he walked away now, he could spare Jack further heartache, but that would mean abandoning Jack, and that was something he would never willingly choose to do. "You might not agree with my choices," he continued. "But I'd never want you to take that away from me. Please... promise me you wouldn't do that."
Jack looked at him doubtfully for a long moment, then slowly nodded. "I couldn't do that to you, even if I wanted to. I promise."
"Good, because I don't want to be anywhere else." Gathering his resolve, Ianto reached for Jack's hand and grasped it firmly, entwining their fingers. "Jack, listen to me... I'm happy. Admittedly, not so much at the moment after what we've just been through, but I'm happy when I'm with you. Quite possibly happier than I've ever been." He tightened his grip on Jack's hand, forcing himself to hold Jack's troubled gaze. "Tommy told me I'm lucky... that I'm lucky to have you. He was right."
The barest hint of a smile graced Jack's lips. He squeezed Ianto's hand in return and shifted closer. "You're not the only lucky one. Ianto... I don't tell you enough... I don't want you to ever doubt how grateful I am that you're here."
Ianto offered a tremulous smile in return. Jack's words had given him a measure of reassurance, but regardless of whatever lingering doubts remained, he'd made his choice. He'd allowed Jack into his heart, and that meant accepting everything being with Jack entailed.
Unable to help himself, he let out a self-deprecating chuckle. "Looks like we're stuck with each other then. Even if we are both bloody hopeless."
It was a clear sign of Jack's distress that he didn't immediately respond. He just continued to look at Ianto, a myriad of emotions playing in his eyes. "Yeah, we kind of are," he eventually said with a huff of mirthless laughter. "You'd think I'd be better at this after so much time."
Ianto put his glass down on the table and pulled Jack into his arms. Jack resisted for the briefest of moments before relaxing against him, his arms clutching at Ianto almost desperately as a choked sob escaped from his throat. "I'm here, Jack," Ianto whispered against his ear. "You're not alone. We've got each other."
Ianto shifted them so they were lying on their sides along the length of the sofa, looking into each other's eyes. He teased his fingers through Jack's hair, gently massaging his scalp in the way he knew Jack liked, then kissed his lips softly. Jack murmured appreciatively in response, his eyes sliding shut as he continued to hold tightly onto Ianto.
Burying his face against Jack's shoulder, their cheeks pressed together, Ianto closed his eyes, his thoughts drifting as he savoured Jack's warm, strong presence. He wasn't sure if anything had been truly resolved between them, but Jack was here in his arms, trusting him, seeking comfort from him, and acknowledging that what they shared went beyond loneliness and physical gratification. For now at least, they were together, and that was enough. It was more than enough.
He realised Jack had fallen asleep, his breathing slow and rhythmic. Ianto held him close while dozing sporadically himself, his mind still too active to achieve full unconsciousness.
He thought about Tommy, who because of several cruel twists of fate, had never had the chance to find happiness. And he thought of Jack, who beyond all the bravery and bravado, had a kind and compassionate heart, but was terrified of finding happiness because of the anguish that inevitably followed. Jack was cursed with an overflowing abundance of life, but in a tragic twist of irony, he was afraid to actually live.
Lastly, Ianto thought about himself and his own past heartache, and wondered if he and Jack could find even fleeting happiness together when the shadow of his demise hung over them. With a sense of stubborn determination, he decided they were damned well going to try.