Same Ianto, Different Jack

Chapter 38

by Gracefultree

A/N: I'm back and here with the next chapter! I have the next one sketched out, and then all there will be is the epilogue. As some of you may know, I'm working to finish up several of my loose-ended stories this summer, and this is one of the lucky ones. I hope you enjoy!

Last time: After hurting Ianto when he came back to life, Jack fled, leaving Ianto behind. He came back, but things had changed. Now Ianto needs to figure out what's different and what to do about it.

.

.

.

Something was different about Jack. Off. And Ianto couldn't quite put his finger on it.

As days became weeks became months, he noticed a pattern that wasn't a pattern. It just didn't make sense. On the surface, everything between them was fine. They lived together, occasionally bickered, did couple-y things, visited his sister, worked, and made love. But they didn't make love every day. And most of the time it would be at Jack's initiative, since he tended to rebuff Ianto when he asked. That, in and of itself, was odd. He'd never known Jack to refuse sex. But it was happening more and more.

Not that they were having less sex. When they did it, it often lasted far longer than the usual quickies or blow jobs that used to characterize quite a bit of their sex life. And they always did it at home, another change. No more naked hide and seek at the Hub. (Though Ianto allowed that the 24-hour coverage made that much less practical.) No more sex in the car. No more hand jobs in the loo at various restaurants when their blood was up.

Ianto was puzzled.

So he did what he usually did when he had a problem he couldn't solve. He dug into the problem and researched it from as many angles as possible. He read through his diaries, all of them, looking for similarities and differences. He cross-referenced their sex life with work cases. He talked to Gwen, and Esther. He found Bruce one evening and convinced the man, after buying him quite a few drinks, to talk about Jack and anything he knew about his moods and activities.

He tried to talk to Jack, who shrugged and replied that shifting from daily sex to once or twice a week was part of any long-term relationship, and why was Ianto hung up on sex, anyway? Ianto tried to say that it wasn't just about sex, but Jack brought it back to that, and they ended up fighting about it, and Ianto stormed out of the bedroom to sleep on the sofa that night. Jack woke him with a blow job the next morning, as well as breakfast and an apology, and tried to have the conversation again, though it didn't go anywhere different.

Ianto thought about his relationship with Lisa, and how their sex life dropped off a bit three months after they started living together because they were falling into patterns of how they lived and were getting used to being together so much. He thought of New Jack, and how they had sex several times a day, most days, for as long as they were together, no matter what else was going on. That with New Jack, it had been about connection and communication, as well as sex and, eventually, love.

He thought about the quality of the sex with New Jack, how he was always more desperate after he died, wanting to prove to both himself and Ianto that they were alive, that Ianto was safe. He thought about His Jack, just Jack, now, and how their lovemaking always seemed to have that desperate edge.

But Jack wasn't dying! He went on field missions, with Ianto in tow as he'd promised, but he hadn't died since that first time when he ran away. It was something they talked about, Jack saying he was trying to let the Field Ops people do their work and take better care of himself, something Ianto heartily approved of. Jack wanted to get better, and not dying would help with that, he reasoned.

So why did their lovemaking have that desperate edge? Why did it feel like Jack was reassuring himself that Ianto was alive? That he, Jack, was alive?

Minnie interrupted his thoughts one afternoon as she handed him a stack of files. He thanked her absently.

"Wait, what are those ones?" he asked, realizing she'd only given him half of the pile in her arms.

"Oh, these are Jack's solo missions for the month," she replied. "I'm just taking them to the usual cabinet."

"Jack's solo missions?" Ianto repeated, confused. "Jack doesn't go on solo missions."

Minnie looked suddenly fearful, like she'd shared a secret she wasn't supposed to. He stood and took the folders from her. He opened the first file, reading an account of Jack going out and capturing a Triptilian warrior one afternoon. According to the report, he died twice before killing it, then sent the body to Medical for an autopsy. He thought the thing had poison in its nails and wanted them to check. Ianto remembered that case. He'd read Medical's report, but hadn't bothered to look up how it was brought it. That was the night Jack came home at nine, claiming a meeting detained him, and they had sex in the kitchen before a hasty dinner and more sex once they got into bed.

Ianto opened the second file, of a similar case, and he was struck by the date. That night Jack came home with a smile on his face and desire in his eyes. They'd had sex for six hours, over and over again, after which Jack fell asleep, only to wake up with a nightmare of Ianto being gone again.

The third file — was the night of their fight, the one that ended the next morning with Jack blowing Ianto as a good morning treat. He'd died four times over the course of 18 hours, then, Ianto inferred, used his vortex manipulator to get home on time.

"Minnie, I need to see the rest," he told her. She nodded silently and showed him to the room of the Archives where there was a collection of file cabinets just on Jack.

"Not all of them are solo missions," she said softly. "But he's died in all of them. He wanted a record."

Ianto frowned, reassured her that he wasn't upset with her, thanked her, and sat down for an afternoon of reading.

.

.

.

Ianto knocked on the doorframe of Jack's office before walking in. Jack and Gwen, leaning over some paperwork on Jack's desk, looked up.

"Jack, I'm sorry to interrupt, but I need a minute," Ianto said, hoping his voice remained neutral. Neutral enough, anyway. "There's a Field Ops issue I'd like to discuss."

"Oh?" Jack asked, folding his hands together, his face open, curious. Ianto rarely wanted to talk about field operations, now that he was the Head Archivist and only went out when he shadowed Jack.

"Yes, it's about an agent who deliberately puts himself in danger."

Jack glanced at Gwen, frowning. "I'll call Rex in," he said, reaching for his desk phone. "He should have told me already, shouldn't he?"

"He usually does, before the reports go downstairs," Gwen answered, gathering her papers.

"Case file JB-X1607.75," Ianto said.

Jack froze, his free hand hovering over the dialpad of the phone. Ianto could see his expression hardening.

"JB-X?" Gwen asked. "I don't know that designation. What section is —"

"Gwen, please give us a minute," Jack interrupted, his voice and facial expression so tight that Ianto worried his skin would crack under the strain.

"It's short for James Bond, I believe," Ianto said, catching the muscle next to Jack's eye twitch.

"Oh, well, I'll just go get Rex, then, shall I?" she suggested, standing.

"That won't be necessary," Jack barked.

She looked sharply at him. "But, Jack —"

"Leave, Gwen," Jack said, his mouth barely moving in an effort to maintain control over himself.

"Wait," Ianto said, walking around Gwen to grab Jack's wrist. He had Jack's vortex manipulator off his wrist in seconds. "Hold on to this for him," he added, handing it to her.

"Ianto! What are you doing?" Jack demanded, standing, anger flaring.

Ianto removed his own vortex manipulator and tossed it to Gwen. "And mine," he said. He escorted her out the door and closed it behind her, locking it and activating the privacy screen so no one could see into the office or overhear anything that happened, no matter how loud they might get. One of the benefits of alien technology. He crossed his arms over his chest and turned to face Jack, leaning against the door.

They stared at each other for a full minute before Jack crumbled, collapsing into his chair with an audible sigh. He ran his fingers through his hair.

"Who told you?"

"Minnie happened to be holding some of the JB-X reports when she gave me some others," Ianto answered. "Who else knows about this?"

Jack looked away. He fiddled with the short hairs on his wrist where his vortex manipulator should have been. "Just her," he said. Ianto remained still. "And Bruce, ok? That's it!"

Ianto continued waiting.

"And maybe Rex," Jack admitted. He looked up from his hands to gauge Ianto's reaction, then looked away again. "What do you want to know?" he finally asked.

"I want to know why," Ianto said. He pulled a data disk from his pocket. "Why can I track 73 incidents of you dying on a solo mission that's not logged into the system except through Minnie and the JB-X files, using your vortex manipulator, and having sex with me? Did you think I wouldn't notice? Did you think I was stupid?"

"Ianto —"

"Don't try to get away from this, Jack. You planned it. There's no other explanation. Why else would it be so neat? Why else would it be an exact correlation?"

"Ianto —"

"I should've picked up on it sooner," Ianto continued, not letting Jack speak. "I knew something was strange about you. I knew something was up. You never refuse sex! And yet, since you've been back from your little self-pity suicide vacation, the only times we have sex are when you suggest it. When you want comfort after dying. Am I right?"

Jack hung his head, refusing to look at Ianto, his silence all the confirmation Ianto needed.

"Yes, it's natural for couples to have sex less frequently when they get used to living together, to being together. But not for us! Believe me, I've been with enough other yous to know that. New Jack and I never went more than 36 hours without sex, even when we were spitting mad at each other. Same with all the others. And yet I believed you. I believed that you wouldn't do something like this. I believed you wanted my help getting over this. I trusted you.

"I should've figured it out when I realized you weren't dying on missions. I should've picked up on the fact that you'd find another way to do it. You haven't exactly been subtle about thinking that you deserve to die for all the things you think you did wrong."

"Ianto, I —"

"Do you have any idea how it makes me feel to know this? To realize what you've been doing?"

"Not as bad as me," Jack snarled.

"Tell me why," Ianto demanded.

"Because I don't want to hurt you when I come back!"

"Oh, but three innocent civilian deaths is acceptable?" Ianto hissed. "Three people who saw you go down and came over to see if you were alive? Three people who died because you won't let me help you?"

"No! No, it's not ok!" Jack shouted, getting to his feet again. "I see their faces every time I close my eyes! I see everyone who's ever been hurt because of me! I'm not willing to add you to that list!"

Ianto threw the disk to Jack's desk. "Get ready for a shock, Jack, because you have hurt me."

"I don't understand."

"How do you think it makes me feel to know that the only times we've had sex since you've been back have been after you've died?"

"You didn't know until just now," Jack pointed out.

"I feel like a whore," Ianto spat. "You using me whenever you feel like it, when you need comfort. It's like you don't give a shit about me or my feelings."

"That's not true!"

"Really? Prove it!"

"I love you! I —"

"It's always on your schedule. Always on your comfort level. Always on what's best for you. Well, I'm sick of it. I'm sick of spending my time with a man who thinks so little of me that he'd rather get himself killed than talk to me about what's going on. I'm sick of living with a man who only wants sex on his schedule."

"So we'll do it more," Jack barked, angry.

"It's not about sex!" Ianto shouted.

"Then what's it about? What am I missing?"

"It's about you going behind my back to get yourself killed so you don't have to deal with your issues! It's about you not trusting me to help you! It's about me feeling horrible that I can't help you because you won't let me!"

"I won't hurt you!" Jack shouted at the top of his lungs, rounding the desk to face off with Ianto. "You can't make me do it!"

They glared at each other for a few minutes, the tension rising, before Ianto drew his gun and pressed it against Jack's forehead. "I'm sorry, but you need to get over this," he said.

"Ianto, don't do this," Jack begged, backing up. "Please, don't. I'm so scared I'll hurt you. I'm so scared of being without you."

"You won't hurt me, Jack," Ianto promised. "You might not believe in yourself, but I believe in you. That's the point of this. I believe in you, and I believe I can help you. I can help you get through this."

Jack backed up farther until his back hit the far wall of the office, his eyes never leaving Ianto or the gun pointed at him. Tears streamed silently down his cheeks. He shook his head. "No, Ianto, please. Please don't do this. Please," he begged, his whole body falling in on itself as he tried to get away. "Don't make me hurt you."

"Do you trust me?" Ianto asked.

"Not when you're pointing a gun at me," Jack exclaimed. "Stop this, Ianto. Stop it. I'll work on my issues. I promise. Just don't do this!"

Ianto advanced. "If you don't trust me to know what I can and can't handle, what point is there to all this, Jack? What point is there to us being together if you won't let me help?"

"How is killing me helping me?" Jack demanded. "How is getting yourself killed when I come back helping?"

"You won't kill me, Jack. You won't even hurt me. Do you know how I know?" Jack shook his head, still crying. "I know because I trust you not to do it. You might not trust yourself, but I trust you, and that's the important thing. Now close your eyes so I can get this over with to prove that you won't do anything to me!"

Jack looked at Ianto's expression of grim determination. His eyes flickered to look at the gun, to watch Ianto thumb off the safety, to see Ianto's finger tighten on the trigger.

"You really think this will work?" he asked in a fear-filled whisper.

"Yes," Ianto responded.

"I love you."

"I love you, too, Jack. That's why I'm doing this."

Jack took a ragged breath and closed his eyes.

.

.

.

tbc