literature

Phoenix

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He was beautiful.

Almost like the last time Jack ever saw him. Impeccable suit, nasty scar gone. Those captivating eyes, those straight lips. And he was just there –waiting- like it was another Torchwood mission, so glad and relieved that Jack had finally showed up and when Jack looked at him…

His heart skipped a beat and broke. Ianto Jones, the bravest man on Earth, ready for battle, ready to die again. But there was just so much relief running through Jack's mind. He even pulled Ianto in for that brief hug just to convince himself that he wasn't dreaming.

It was real. He was real. Real as could be. Warmth, not coldness. Warmth. Real flesh and blood. Real mind and consciousness. Separate. Real. Living.

In all honesty, it was too much. Jack couldn't handle it. But oh, just looking at Ianto, that smile, that deadpan expression, it mended a little part of Jack's heart. Jack had other lovers before. John Hart had been one –and what a wonder it turned out the way it did. There had been Lucia. She was a pretty woman, strong-willed, rather sassy. Though they married, Lucia grew increasingly distant until she finally asked Jack to leave. She couldn't handle Jack's Torchwood. Torchwood with little boundaries, Torchwood with so many risks.

She couldn't handle immortal Jack.

But Ianto could and it was strange to think that Ianto hated Jack before. Looking at them after the Abaddon incident, you could never tell. Sure Jack was immortal, that was the price that came with falling in love with Torchwood Cardiff's boss. But in all those nights, all those quiet afterglows in Jack's bunker or at Ianto's flat, Jack slowly gave his heart, memory by memory, confession by confession.

Immortal or not, Jack was still human. That was something Ianto grew to understand. Jack was still like the rest of them in mind, if not in body. There were still regrets and mistakes beneath the smiles and the large façade. Keeping them bottled up for hundreds, if not thousands of years, did a man harm.

All that time Jack had been so scared. He knew it was dangerous, handing himself over like that, wearing his heart on his sleeve in front of Ianto. But for once, he had catharsis. He had someone who would listen and not judge.

Ianto's father knew that. He could see it in Jack's eyes, past the young and unwrinkled face. Mr. Jones bore into Jack's soul and saw the love layered with complete desperation resting there. He saw the pain Jack harbored, but he also saw the last sliver of purity left.

It was stained with selfish desire. Saving the world… but losing himself in the process. Eternal oblivion was the next best thing for death to Jack.

As the secrets were revealed, Ianto realized it –the selfishness. In his fit of anger, he couldn't rationalize it. He merely lashed out. Slowly, it dawned on him. He saw the tears forming in Jack's eyes. He heard the angry words full of regret. The only one I wanted to see was you. He felt the defeat. The world was empty because you'd gone.

Ianto had questioned it before, but now… Now there was no doubt.

Captain Jack Harkness loved him.

What was a man to do? Love or conscience? But Ianto loved Jack, loved him with all his heart and though he couldn't bear to think that Jack would lose everyone forever, he knew that if they just walked away, they would both regret it –Jack more so than himself.

It hurt to watch.

It hurt for Ianto to watch the understanding make its way across Jack's face in the Welsh moonlight. It hurt even more to see Jack realize he would lose him all over again, be alone again.

But most of all, it hurt knowing that he was putting Jack in this pain.

Ianto even tried to joke about it, but Jack wouldn't let it go. He kept pleading, but they both knew how this was going to end. Grief, disaster. But…

"I never said it properly before."

"Doesn't need saying." Because it really didn't. Ianto knew how Jack felt about words. When you said them, there was no going back. It was out there; you couldn't swallow them again.

"Yes it does!" Ianto could see the emotion burning and blazing like phoenix in Jack's eyes. "Ianto Jones…" The name rolled off Jack's tongue, the last time Ianto would ever hear them that way. "I love you."

Ianto wasn't letting him have the last word. "And I love you too Jack."
The time passed and stars died. Years later –only the Doctor knows how long really- Jack Harkness stood in a room with Gwen Cooper and her husband, with three other brilliant people. One of them, the Americans, will make an off-handish comment about love. Gwen will look over at Jack, to see if he's okay and the Americans will follow suit, confused about if it was something they said.

And they'll see that sad, reminiscing look flicker across Captain Harkness's face, only to be replaced by a small, gentle smile.

Though the Rift is closed, through they are miles away, they'll hear the words uttered that night.

"Ianto Jones… I love you."
I'm back for the time being. We'll see what happens when the new semester starts.

This is a oneshot I wrote before the (imo) slight-travesty that was Miracle Day. It's based on The House of the Dead and if you haven't listened to that radio play, GO DO IT NOW. IT'S LIKE A TON OF FEELS.

You might also noticed my EXTREME USE OF CAPS in some cases. I blame Tumblr.
© 2012 - 2024 vertigoevie
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Angel-of-the-doctor's avatar
As I was reading this, it sounded vaguely familiar. Then I read the Artist's Comments and realized-
HOUSE OF THE DEAD.
SO MANY FEELS.
That is (and probably always will be) my favorite Torchwood audio story. I'm glad someone made fan fiction of it, and I'm especially glad it was you. :D