kollo_rpg | Summer 13 | Closed to Jack Harkness

Jack laughs too, shaking his head. "Oh god, no, of course not. I know you get into your share of scrapes." Especially Spike, of course, although yeah, he knows it's not just Spike.

And he gives Ianto a curious glances at the bit about Torchwood. It's a long time ago, now, and probably fairly moot given how things have moved on for both of them but he's curious. "What do you think you were becoming, there?"

He takes a thoughtful sip of his coffee, trying to think how to put it into words. “It’s like I was becoming Torchwood, like it was all I had. It consumed my life. I didn’t have anything outside of it - friends, hobbies, a social life. Even before I knew the details of it I knew I was going to die there and die young. It wasn’t healthy.”

It isn’t meant as a commentary on Jack’s life and he knows he’ll understand that. They’re different in how they approach these things. Jack can throw himself wholeheartedly into something and take charge of it. He needs that. Ianto gets too overwhelmed, too lost in things. He’s too quick to let something control him.

Ah. He nods, understanding. Too many young men and women he saw devoured and engulfed by Torchwood, over the years, giving the best of their years until there was nothing left of them. And yes, it is different for him. He can give everything he's got and still come back every time when it kills him.

No-one else can, and it killed them all in the end, usually sooner rather than later.

"Yeah," he says heavily, and gives Ianto a small, sad smile. "Perhaps it's as well that it ended when it did, however hard it was at the time. I'm not sure I'd do things the same way any more."

“You did things the right way.” There’s certainty in his voice. After all, he was at Torchwood London first. He knows the alternative. Cardiff was hard, but it was infinitely better in more ways than one. “Torch wood had to exist, it’s not your fault there was no surviving it.”

It’s a grim subject but it’s long in the past. He’s been free of Torchwood longer than he worked for it by this point. It just leaves in impression. “What about you? Do you ever miss saving the world? Or do you still do that when I’m not around?”

He darts a quick glance round at Ianto, touched by the compliment. He knows he was far from the best leader the team could have had, even if his intentions were always good.

"Perhaps," he admits, although he doesn't really believe none of it was his fault.

And then he blinks, ridiculously blindsided by the question even though he really shouldn't have been, given the direction of his own questions. It's just that it makes him think of Saavi and Taiana and what happened to bring his most recent attempts at saving people to an abrupt end.

He forces out a teasing smile to try to cover it. "Me? I never stopped trying to save the world. What do you think I've been out there doing the last couple of years? Knitting?"

After all these years, even after being apart, he can see right through that transparent recovery. Good thing they seem to be headed towards Jack’s beach brooding spot. He has a feeling they’ll need it.

“Mostly I just picture you striking dramatic poses on space ships, if I’m honest.” He keeps his tone light for now. Let Jack get to whatever he feels like sharing on his own.

The laugh that follows that response is a lot more genuine. "Oh well, yes, obviously that's a part of it," he admits, because of course it is. He has the perfect physique and outfit for striking dramatic poses, wherever he is! Though space ships aren't as good for that as high rooftops - or clifftops, which is where he's heading now, for an outcrop of rocks on the top of a promontory sticking out to sea, wild and windswept, perfect for dramatic posing, or brooding, or both.

"But in between the dramatic posing and, you know, the sex..." He casts a grin back over his shoulder at Ianto. "In between all that, we did a lot of good. Saved a lot of people."

It is the perfect view for brooding alright. Ianto can’t help but step ahead a bit to take in the sights. It’s striking, very different than the rest of the island he’s seen so far. He can see instantly why Jack likes this place. It’s perfect for him.

“We did do a lot of good,” He agrees, meeting his eyes with a smile. “I’m glad to be where I am now, but I’m proud of what I was a part of.” Good and bad. It’s easier to look back on it that way now.

He moves a little closer to Jack, not quite leaning against him or tucking himself under his arm but certainly closer. “Do you want to share what you’ve been up to since you left, or do you want me to go first?”

He returns the smile, relatively at peace nowadays with all that Torchwood represented and how it all ended, even if there's still a lot of pain there below the surface. He's gained some distance from it now, distance that he doesn't have yet from his most recent loss. Which makes it a lot harder to talk about, but then, didn't he come here to find a way to let out some of the grief he's been bottling up inside for the last several months?

He wavers for a moment, feeling Ianto close at his side, supportive and non-judgemental, and comes to a decision. "Let's sit down," he says, leading Ianto round and down a bit to where there's a flat ledge facing out to sea, hidden from the landward side by the outcrop that rises behind it. The rock is warmed by the sun as he settles down on it, leaving plenty of room for Ianto to sit beside him, warm and companionable but with a breathtaking view to look at that makes a good excuse for not making too much eye contact. It's easier to talk that way.

"I want to share," he says quietly. "I want you to know." Even then, it's hard and he doesn't really know where to start. He swallows and after a moment he says, "You remember I told you about Saavi and Taiana, the pair of Bl'ohxorians I hooked up with?"

He probably didn't say much of any substance but he's fairly sure he waxed rather lyrical in the early days about their gorgeous purple-hued skin and silvery hair, Saavi's wicked sense of humour and Taiana's quieter dry, clever wit.

“I remember,” Ianto says, taking a seat beside him but not touching him just yet, still giving him space. Companionable seems like the right word for it right now, for what Jack needs. He gets the feeling too much sentimentality on his part will make whatever he has to say harder. He takes the hint and stares out across the waves as he listens, absently spinning the empty coffee cup in his fingers.

And he does remember hearing about them. It’s never easy, listening to Jack talk about who he’s with or other partners he’s grown to care about but it’s something he’s learned to live with and gotten as used to as he can. God knows Jack has done his fair share of it with him and Spike over the years. It doesn’t hurt to hear about them like it used to. It’s something he’s accepted. And clearly this story doesn’t have a happy ending, he can tell that much by Jack’s tone. He can’t resent him for that, not when there’s clearly something hard he has to say.

Ianto having Spike has made this whole thing a hell of a lot easier. Which is not something he never thought he'd say, back in those fraught, drama-filled days in Marina when the whole thing exploded in his face, but it's true. It's balanced things out. Ianto can have Spike and Jack can have, well, the rest of the universe, each on their own terms, and they can still meet in the middle for what they share, even if it's not as intense or exclusive as it once was. It works, and right now Jack is incredibly glad of that. He's not sure how he'd get through this if he didn't know he had Ianto waiting there to help him. Just because he hasn't actually turned to Ianto for this until now doesn't mean it hasn't meant a hell of a lot knowing he'd be there when he needed him.

He smiles softly. "They were incredible. I mean, not just the sex, though that certainly was amazing, but they were such good people. Open and generous and caring, and they couldn't pass by anyone in any sort of trouble without trying to see if they could help them. It felt really good, you know? To get out there again, dashing into danger, facing the odds together, laughing about it... It was almost like being with the Doctor again. I mean, their ship was no TARDIS but she was a beautiful, slinky little thing, and she took us wherever we needed to be, no questions asked, and scooped us out trouble more times than I can count!"

A brittle note creeps into his voice as he talks about the ship, the thing that ended it all, and he stops talking for a moment, swallowing as he stares sightlessly out across the sea.

No, things aren’t as intense or exclusive as they used to be, by any means. Jack is always going to be a part of his life and always going to be someone he cares about but it is different now than it was although this might not be the best time to try and work it out. Things aren’t as dramatic as they used to be, but some of the passion is gone as well even if he doesn’t want to admit it. He’s here, and Jack can always rely on him but he doesn’t know how to tell him that it feels as though their relationship has fundamentally changed. It isn’t what is used to be, at least not as he sees it.

For example all this would have hurt to hear, once. Now it’s just another one of Jack’s stories, something that doesn’t quite connect with him while still being very real. “What happened to them?”

At least, out here in the big, wide universe, it's a lot easier to make an on-again, off-again relationship work than it would have been if they'd stayed in Marina. They have the space to be their own people. And yes, it has changed, of course it has, and he's okay with that, or at least he thinks he is. They probably do need to have a talk about that. But perhaps, in a way, they've progressed to something more like friends with benefits but, contrary to what some might believe, right now it's the friend part Jack's far more interested in: the company of someone who understands him better than probably anyone else in the universe, who can understand what this has done to him, what it does to him every single time.

He lets out a breath, steeling himself to say it. "The ship blew up. They were on board."

Five years ago the idea that friends with benefits could describe their relationship would have broken his heart but now it’s exactly the words he would have chosen for it. What they have works for where they both are in their lives right now, and while it probably will come up for discussion as they figure out where to go in this place for now it’s for the best.

He had a feeling something like this was coming in the story. From the way Jack’s been acting lately he knew there was some heartbreak involved. His hand finds Jack’s and gives it a squeeze, not saying anything just yet but rather letting him decide what details he wants to give, what he still wants to keep for himself.

Of course there's heartbreak. Isn't that the repetitive theme of Jack's life?

His fingers curl around Ianto's and cling as he feels his way through the aftermath of the revelation with a few shuddery breaths.

"I think that's the first time I've said it out loud," he says shakily. "There's no-one else I could say it to."

Except perhaps Spike or Martha, but he hasn't quite got there with either of them so far.

He shakes his head, as if to shake away the emotions that threaten, and forces himself to continue with the story. "I was down on a nearby planet, getting supplies. I saw the explosion - heard it - felt it." He grits his teeth. "It should have been me up there. If they'd just come down instead of me..."

No, there probably isn’t anyone else, is there? He doubts there’s anyone alive who understands Jack Harkness as well as he does, which is a different form of tragedy. He knows how hard this is, one more loss after so many.

“What caused it?” He asks gently. An attack? Or just random chance, just another string of bad luck to shatter something he’d risked letting himself care about?

A few years ago, in MarinaNova, he did have other people he could have talked to about this, people he'd built real, deep relationships with through being forced to stay still in one place for a decent length of time. Through being forced to actually engage with people properly because he wasn't able to distract himself by flitting about through the universe. Even Saavi and Taiana hadn't known him as well as some of those people back in Marina (Chuck, for instance, and Kitty) simply because of all those distractions - though that didn't mean his relationship with them hadn't run deep too, just in a different way that was less about deep, personal revelations and insights and more about sharing physical intimacy and wild adventures.

More like what his relationship with Ianto had been pre-MarinaNova.

He shakes his head. "I examined all the wreckage I could find, and I'm pretty sure it was an accident. There was a fault in the engine - Taiana had been warning us for months that the regulator needed replacing but we'd kept putting it off for one reason or another. I'm pretty sure it was that."

And of course he's blaming himself for not taking the time to get it fixed.

As far as Ianto can see that’s the worst possible option. At least if it were an attack or an outside threat Jack could focus his energy on it and blame them, but an accident means he’ll only blame himself.

“I know you well enough to know it’s pointless to tell you not to blame yourself but in this case I truest believe you shouldn’t.” It would be easy for someone who didn’t know him to put it down as being over dramatic but Ianto knows better. He knows what he’ll do to keep the people around him safe if he can. “Sometimes things just happen, we both know that. They can be terrible without being anyone’s fault.”

Yes, exactly. There's no-one to hunt down and bring to justice, not this time. If there's anyone to blame, it's the three of them, and Jack's the only one left.

He bites his lip, his fingers tightening around Ianto's until they hurt. "I know," he says, keeping his voice low to try to stop it from trembling. He knows the facts, the probabilities, the way dumb luck works, but that doesn't make it any easier to accept.

"I rather wish there were someone to blame," he growls, and finally turns his head to look at Ianto, a flash of darkness in his eyes. "I would really like to have someone to punch for this."

Ianto doesn’t fight the grip on his hand, squeezing back gently. It’s better than Jack raging against all this or shutting himself away completely even if he has no doubt he’s already done plenty of both those things. He’s watched Jack for years now, enough time to learn that when you live as long as he has it takes an equally long time to forget how loss hurts.

“How long ago was this?” How long has he been running from it?

It feels as if every muscle in his body has tensed up. "Sixty-seven days and, oh, about seven hours," he says tightly. If he were to move to look at his watch he could tell Ianto the exact amount of minutes and seconds too, but he doesn't move. He can't. It feels like everything is so tightly coiled that any tiny movement might set it all off.

He should have know Jack would know he exact amount of time it’s been. He suspects once upon a time he could have rattled off the same statistic about Ianto himself. When you’re eternal what else can you define things by except time.

“I’m sorry.” It won’t help but in the end what else is there to say? He knows Jack will understand what he means, that he can see how hard this is, how much he’s lost over the centuries and how painful it is to add more names to that list.

Oh yes, it had been exactly the same after losing Ianto, at least until he'd got himself so wasted that he'd lost track, without his wriststrap to keep a check on things. Then he'd cursed himself for losing track, which had led to him getting even more wasted, and so on down in an endless, vicious circle.

"Yeah," he says emptily, blinking hard against the tears that threaten again in the face of that understanding. It's wonderful to have someone who gets it like Ianto does, but it's also dangerous because it's going to be the key to his undoing. He's known all along that once he starts to talk about it, that'll be it, there'll be no shoving it back inside. Which is of course why he's put it off as long as he has.

His hand clenches unwittingly again around Ianto's as he grinds his teeth, trying to keep it all in check. He shakes his head, glaring out to sea again. "It's not fair," he says shakily. "They were good people. It's not fucking fair."

He releases Jack’s hand but only so he can wrap his arm around him, pulling him close and giving him a shoulder to cry on, both literally and physically. What is there even to say? Life isn’t fair, they both know it all too well. And words don’t make loss like this better. He knows Jack, knows he communicates by touch, by physicality. Even a gesture as simple as this says more than any speech ever could.

He resists instinctively when he feels Ianto start to release his hand, fingers automatically tightening, not wanting to let go, until he belatedly realises where Ianto's going with it.

Then he gulps a bit and turns in towards Ianto's ready shoulder, arms sliding around him to grip almost as tightly as he'd been holding his hand. He gazes sightlessly out over the cliffs, vision blurring as the tears he's been holding back for so long finally start to fall.

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