How can I stand here and not be moved by you
Author:
wedabble
Rating: PG13
Pairing: Ianto/Jack
Timeline: Torchwood-Children of Earth(End of Day Five-Somewhere in those 6 months)
Summary: Jack is owed one last favor.
A/N: So I had put off watching Day Four and Five for OBVIOUS reasons. I knew what happened but I figured I had to finally watch it if I was going to watch Season 4 in July. So I did. And then wanted to kill myself with grief. So here is what came out of my blubbering, crying mess. Cause nothing lasts forever. Even death.
There’s only dust and rubble now where Torchwood used to stand. Where his hand would brush yours in an intimate moment only the two of you shared.
You’d lost many in this spot. Good people. Smart, strong people. People who you cared about. Loved.
But none of them could compare.
And the pain you felt then when you lost them doesn’t hold a drop of a wax of a candle to what you are holding inside you in this moment.
You pick up piece of something you once called home and it crumbles in your hand. Just like everything else you touch.
You said you would fight.
Then I take it back, alright? I take it all back—but not him!
You look up at the night sky. If you were a religious man perhaps you would pray. If you still believed in any type of good in the world maybe you could still have a glimmer of hope. But it's all lost now.
You lost him. It’s all you lived for.
You never told anyone that. Not yourself. And definitely not him.
You said nothing.
You should have told him everything.
He was right. He told you everything. And what he didn’t tell you, you read in his journal.
And he never even scratched the surface.
No! No no no no no no no—no!. No. Ianto. No, no, no…
You can't cry anymore.
There’s nothing left.
“What now?” You whisper. “What am I supposed to do now?”
It’s all my fault.
“Come back. Please…just come back.”
You’re talking to no one. Or maybe you’re talking to every God or deity that ever existed. You’re talking to heaven and hell. You’re talking to aliens and monsters. You’re talking to the devil himself.
William Shakespeare had it right. Hell is empty. All the devils are here.
I love you.
You shake your head.
Don’t.
It just keeps replaying in your head. It won't stop. The things you could have done differently. All the things you could have said.
“Tell me what to do. I’ll do anything.” You plead. You hope someone is listening. Anyone.
Hey. It was—good, yeah?
You wipe the tears off your stained cheeks and let the wind whip the tail of your coat around. You’ll miss the wind. No planet has wind like the earth.
“I do love that coat.”
You’re blood runs cold.
You’ll never be able to get him out of your head now.
Don’t forget me.
Never could.
“I miss you. And I love you. God, I love you. Ianto, I…”
A thousand years’ time…you won’t remember me.
“Ianto…”
Ianto. Ianto? Don’t go. Don’t leave me, please. Please, don’t—
“You know, I still have my stopwatch.”
You finally breathe out and slowly turn. Your grief has taken over your mind. Not only are you reliving your nightmares now they are in visual forms of torture.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“It was all my fault.”
“This again, ay? Fine. It was. You got me killed. Is that to your liking?”
“I’m leaving. I have to. There’s nothing left here for me now on this planet.”
“And what about me?”
“Maybe if I leave here the memories won't follow me.”
“Perhaps not. But I mean I just got back. You’re gonna leave so soon. I thought we could celebrate. Me not being dead and all.”
You blink. You take a small step forward and reach your hand out. His meets it.
He’s warm. Like you remembered. Soft and when the wind kicks up you can smell him. That familiar scent of soap, coffee and innocence. Bravery and grace.
“How…?”
“The doctor wanted me to tell you he owed you a favor.”
Ianto smiles and the planets realign. His fingers intertwine with yours and he steps toward you. Your foreheads press against each other and you breathe him in. The air is cold; the both of you shivering and cheeks red with the feeling of being alive.
“Ianto I…”
“No. Save your breath.”
You huff out a small laugh at the tragedy that sentence now holds.
“You’re gonna know everything. I’m going to tell you everything. Even the things you don’t want to hear.”
Ianto gives a small nod and rests his other hand on your waist. “This sounds important.”
“Ianto…”
“Always so serious, Sir. I say first we get out of the cold, I’ll make you some coffee and we’ll take it one second at a time.”
“There is not enough time in this world to spend with you.”
He takes your hand and begins to walk away from the destruction that once was Torchwood.
“Mmm. You may be right.”
You follow behind him, holding onto his hand tightly.
“Oh, one more thing.” He turns. “Very important.” He smiles. “A term of my resurrection.”
You wait.
“Be careful what you wish for, Sir. You really are stuck with me for a thousand years now. Maybe more. Depends on how long the universe exists.”
“You…”
“Like I said. Doctors terms of my resurrection.” Ianto winks. “Now how about that coffee?”
Author:
wedabbleRating: PG13
Pairing: Ianto/Jack
Timeline: Torchwood-Children of Earth(End of Day Five-Somewhere in those 6 months)
Summary: Jack is owed one last favor.
A/N: So I had put off watching Day Four and Five for OBVIOUS reasons. I knew what happened but I figured I had to finally watch it if I was going to watch Season 4 in July. So I did. And then wanted to kill myself with grief. So here is what came out of my blubbering, crying mess. Cause nothing lasts forever. Even death.
There’s only dust and rubble now where Torchwood used to stand. Where his hand would brush yours in an intimate moment only the two of you shared.
You’d lost many in this spot. Good people. Smart, strong people. People who you cared about. Loved.
But none of them could compare.
And the pain you felt then when you lost them doesn’t hold a drop of a wax of a candle to what you are holding inside you in this moment.
You pick up piece of something you once called home and it crumbles in your hand. Just like everything else you touch.
You said you would fight.
Then I take it back, alright? I take it all back—but not him!
You look up at the night sky. If you were a religious man perhaps you would pray. If you still believed in any type of good in the world maybe you could still have a glimmer of hope. But it's all lost now.
You lost him. It’s all you lived for.
You never told anyone that. Not yourself. And definitely not him.
You said nothing.
You should have told him everything.
He was right. He told you everything. And what he didn’t tell you, you read in his journal.
And he never even scratched the surface.
No! No no no no no no no—no!. No. Ianto. No, no, no…
You can't cry anymore.
There’s nothing left.
“What now?” You whisper. “What am I supposed to do now?”
It’s all my fault.
“Come back. Please…just come back.”
You’re talking to no one. Or maybe you’re talking to every God or deity that ever existed. You’re talking to heaven and hell. You’re talking to aliens and monsters. You’re talking to the devil himself.
William Shakespeare had it right. Hell is empty. All the devils are here.
I love you.
You shake your head.
Don’t.
It just keeps replaying in your head. It won't stop. The things you could have done differently. All the things you could have said.
“Tell me what to do. I’ll do anything.” You plead. You hope someone is listening. Anyone.
Hey. It was—good, yeah?
You wipe the tears off your stained cheeks and let the wind whip the tail of your coat around. You’ll miss the wind. No planet has wind like the earth.
“I do love that coat.”
You’re blood runs cold.
You’ll never be able to get him out of your head now.
Don’t forget me.
Never could.
“I miss you. And I love you. God, I love you. Ianto, I…”
A thousand years’ time…you won’t remember me.
“Ianto…”
Ianto. Ianto? Don’t go. Don’t leave me, please. Please, don’t—
“You know, I still have my stopwatch.”
You finally breathe out and slowly turn. Your grief has taken over your mind. Not only are you reliving your nightmares now they are in visual forms of torture.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“It was all my fault.”
“This again, ay? Fine. It was. You got me killed. Is that to your liking?”
“I’m leaving. I have to. There’s nothing left here for me now on this planet.”
“And what about me?”
“Maybe if I leave here the memories won't follow me.”
“Perhaps not. But I mean I just got back. You’re gonna leave so soon. I thought we could celebrate. Me not being dead and all.”
You blink. You take a small step forward and reach your hand out. His meets it.
He’s warm. Like you remembered. Soft and when the wind kicks up you can smell him. That familiar scent of soap, coffee and innocence. Bravery and grace.
“How…?”
“The doctor wanted me to tell you he owed you a favor.”
Ianto smiles and the planets realign. His fingers intertwine with yours and he steps toward you. Your foreheads press against each other and you breathe him in. The air is cold; the both of you shivering and cheeks red with the feeling of being alive.
“Ianto I…”
“No. Save your breath.”
You huff out a small laugh at the tragedy that sentence now holds.
“You’re gonna know everything. I’m going to tell you everything. Even the things you don’t want to hear.”
Ianto gives a small nod and rests his other hand on your waist. “This sounds important.”
“Ianto…”
“Always so serious, Sir. I say first we get out of the cold, I’ll make you some coffee and we’ll take it one second at a time.”
“There is not enough time in this world to spend with you.”
He takes your hand and begins to walk away from the destruction that once was Torchwood.
“Mmm. You may be right.”
You follow behind him, holding onto his hand tightly.
“Oh, one more thing.” He turns. “Very important.” He smiles. “A term of my resurrection.”
You wait.
“Be careful what you wish for, Sir. You really are stuck with me for a thousand years now. Maybe more. Depends on how long the universe exists.”
“You…”
“Like I said. Doctors terms of my resurrection.” Ianto winks. “Now how about that coffee?”
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