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Entry tags:
Fic: Torchwood: Guilty (Jack/Ianto)
TITLE: Guilty
RATING: Adult but not that explicit.
WARNINGS: Slash, but you knew that already.
PAIRINGS: Jack/Ianto, Ianto/Lisa
SUMMARY: We've both been accused of believing too long… Ianto and Jack don't quite make it work. But they're trying.
WORDS: 1023
Ianto is on his stomach with one knee up under his chest and Jack is leaning into him, slow long strokes that say he'd be drifting off by now if he ever drifted off, if he wasn't something weirder than Torchwood was. Ianto has his eyes closed and he's breathing through his teeth, convincing himself that he isn't being used even though he knows they're using each other. They've been like this for months now, and fuck if it isn't everything he'd ever wanted. Fuck if it is.
~
Ianto Jones came to Torchwood Three because he Needed with a capital N and didn't know where else to go.
In Torchwood London they hated Torchwood Cardiff half the time and ignored them the rest. Torchwood Cardiff did the same to them. One would control something and Three would break it up, or Three would take something in and One would try to get their hands on it but they never could, and no one seemed to care that they were on the same side or supposed to be. Torchwood Three just seemed to think that its job was breaking all the rules Torchwood One hadn't.
When Ianto staggered out of Canary Wharf the back way, waiting for someone to catch him in the alley because he was panting too loud and Lisa was still moaning, and her metal Cyberman boots were knocking on the ground, he didn't head home or to hospitals or anything like that. He found the first Torchwood van--he always had a key--and put Lisa inside, and told her not to cry, and drove three straight hours to Cardiff.
And the enigmatic Captain Jack Harkness, who no one understood, least of all Torchwood One, had found out that he was coming before Ianto had found a way to contact him, and half an hour later they were pressed into the back of a bar and Jack was cross-examining him. Where he'd been in the battle. Had the Doctor come? Who had lived and died? Mostly, it was who had lived and died. Ianto didn't mention Lisa.
~
Ianto keeps this going because he has nowhere else to go. If he tries hard enough he can disappear in Jack, and Jack always tries hard.
~
He'd suspected in his heart of hearts that there was no way to save Lisa's mind. Just the shock would have been enough to break her, and Ianto knew he wasn't any substitute for psychiatric aid. But he couldn't exactly take her to a therapist, and he always had a way to make things better--he told himself it was only so long until he could make her a cyber-regenerator, and when that didn't help it was only so long until he could charge her batteries and scrub her programming, and when that didn't work it was only so long until he could call in an expert…
~
It always starts the same way, that low hhh that turns into an nnn, that winds its way up the octave until it's just about a whine, a high eee that he can't swallow and sounds like it hurts, god it hurts, don't stop don't stop don't stop
~
Ianto spent three weeks installing her and checking on her and fawning over her whenever he could be missed and trying not to let it show whenever he couldn't be missed. While he wasn't watching three weeks turned into three months and ended up as half a year and he didn't know what happened. Suddenly Lisa was up and about and dead and he must have dreamed about that a billion times and then it came true.
He wasn't even surprised when Jack turned on him. He wasn't surprised when the point of Jack's pistol was biting into his cheek and he wouldn't have been surprised if it was the last thing he ever felt. Lisa used to kiss him on the cheek. In a sort of weird way this was as close. This was the same.
~
Stop.
Ianto wants to stop. He's afraid of stopping. He's afraid that if they don't meet in the middle they'll both go spilling out of each other, or Jack will and he'll just implode. Or he'll fall apart and Jack will be fine which would be even worse.
Ianto wants to stop and he keeps coming back, every night, or as often as Jack lets him, and Jack takes him apart and roughs him together again, and it's simultaneously the best and the worst thing Ianto's ever felt, and that's the part that scares him.
~
Ianto knew he was running from something from the moment he joined Torchwood One. He knew he was running when he joined Three. He knew he was running when he followed Jack to his bed one night and Jack whispered things he ignored and oh, God, he knew he was running when he let him inside, closer than anyone else had been.
He liked to believe it was Jack's way of forgiving him.
Ianto was always faithful. He made vows to everyone he loved, vows that no one heard but him, echoing around inside his head. He would keep Lisa's name holy long after it stopped falling from his lips. And if he was tried, or exiled, or executed, or Jack murdered him for what he'd done, he'd keep her name holy even then. He just knew he was lost, was all. And he knew he could never get home.
He realized sometimes that he didn't love Jack, but it was nice to believe that he did.
It was nice to believe that he loved someone. It was nice to believe that he could.
~
And at the end he's wet and drained and used and he's not sure which way's north any more. And Jack's become his compass, and this is his confession. Take me Torchwood for I have sinned. He is guilty and building a purgatory up around him, and he and Jack are Satan, and it's the rightest thing that's ever been. Jack is pulling out of him and he's remembering Lisa's blood and the way her body stared up at the ceiling. And he's remembering how it felt to be finally totally free.
RATING: Adult but not that explicit.
WARNINGS: Slash, but you knew that already.
PAIRINGS: Jack/Ianto, Ianto/Lisa
SUMMARY: We've both been accused of believing too long… Ianto and Jack don't quite make it work. But they're trying.
WORDS: 1023
Ianto is on his stomach with one knee up under his chest and Jack is leaning into him, slow long strokes that say he'd be drifting off by now if he ever drifted off, if he wasn't something weirder than Torchwood was. Ianto has his eyes closed and he's breathing through his teeth, convincing himself that he isn't being used even though he knows they're using each other. They've been like this for months now, and fuck if it isn't everything he'd ever wanted. Fuck if it is.
~
Ianto Jones came to Torchwood Three because he Needed with a capital N and didn't know where else to go.
In Torchwood London they hated Torchwood Cardiff half the time and ignored them the rest. Torchwood Cardiff did the same to them. One would control something and Three would break it up, or Three would take something in and One would try to get their hands on it but they never could, and no one seemed to care that they were on the same side or supposed to be. Torchwood Three just seemed to think that its job was breaking all the rules Torchwood One hadn't.
When Ianto staggered out of Canary Wharf the back way, waiting for someone to catch him in the alley because he was panting too loud and Lisa was still moaning, and her metal Cyberman boots were knocking on the ground, he didn't head home or to hospitals or anything like that. He found the first Torchwood van--he always had a key--and put Lisa inside, and told her not to cry, and drove three straight hours to Cardiff.
And the enigmatic Captain Jack Harkness, who no one understood, least of all Torchwood One, had found out that he was coming before Ianto had found a way to contact him, and half an hour later they were pressed into the back of a bar and Jack was cross-examining him. Where he'd been in the battle. Had the Doctor come? Who had lived and died? Mostly, it was who had lived and died. Ianto didn't mention Lisa.
~
Ianto keeps this going because he has nowhere else to go. If he tries hard enough he can disappear in Jack, and Jack always tries hard.
~
He'd suspected in his heart of hearts that there was no way to save Lisa's mind. Just the shock would have been enough to break her, and Ianto knew he wasn't any substitute for psychiatric aid. But he couldn't exactly take her to a therapist, and he always had a way to make things better--he told himself it was only so long until he could make her a cyber-regenerator, and when that didn't help it was only so long until he could charge her batteries and scrub her programming, and when that didn't work it was only so long until he could call in an expert…
~
It always starts the same way, that low hhh that turns into an nnn, that winds its way up the octave until it's just about a whine, a high eee that he can't swallow and sounds like it hurts, god it hurts, don't stop don't stop don't stop
~
Ianto spent three weeks installing her and checking on her and fawning over her whenever he could be missed and trying not to let it show whenever he couldn't be missed. While he wasn't watching three weeks turned into three months and ended up as half a year and he didn't know what happened. Suddenly Lisa was up and about and dead and he must have dreamed about that a billion times and then it came true.
He wasn't even surprised when Jack turned on him. He wasn't surprised when the point of Jack's pistol was biting into his cheek and he wouldn't have been surprised if it was the last thing he ever felt. Lisa used to kiss him on the cheek. In a sort of weird way this was as close. This was the same.
~
Stop.
Ianto wants to stop. He's afraid of stopping. He's afraid that if they don't meet in the middle they'll both go spilling out of each other, or Jack will and he'll just implode. Or he'll fall apart and Jack will be fine which would be even worse.
Ianto wants to stop and he keeps coming back, every night, or as often as Jack lets him, and Jack takes him apart and roughs him together again, and it's simultaneously the best and the worst thing Ianto's ever felt, and that's the part that scares him.
~
Ianto knew he was running from something from the moment he joined Torchwood One. He knew he was running when he joined Three. He knew he was running when he followed Jack to his bed one night and Jack whispered things he ignored and oh, God, he knew he was running when he let him inside, closer than anyone else had been.
He liked to believe it was Jack's way of forgiving him.
Ianto was always faithful. He made vows to everyone he loved, vows that no one heard but him, echoing around inside his head. He would keep Lisa's name holy long after it stopped falling from his lips. And if he was tried, or exiled, or executed, or Jack murdered him for what he'd done, he'd keep her name holy even then. He just knew he was lost, was all. And he knew he could never get home.
He realized sometimes that he didn't love Jack, but it was nice to believe that he did.
It was nice to believe that he loved someone. It was nice to believe that he could.
~
And at the end he's wet and drained and used and he's not sure which way's north any more. And Jack's become his compass, and this is his confession. Take me Torchwood for I have sinned. He is guilty and building a purgatory up around him, and he and Jack are Satan, and it's the rightest thing that's ever been. Jack is pulling out of him and he's remembering Lisa's blood and the way her body stared up at the ceiling. And he's remembering how it felt to be finally totally free.