m-findlow.livejournal.com

Title: Coming home
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Jack, Ianto
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 4,261 words
Content notes: none
Author notes: Written for Challenge 149 - One Night Only
Summary: Jack is given the chance to return home

He'd honestly never anticipated it. Not ever in his wildest dreams did he think he was going to get another chance, however fleeting. And now that it was here, he was suddenly very unsure. Could he really do this? Was it even the right thing to do? He'd spent so long trying to avoid thinking about it that now he wasn't sure he wouldn't fall into a complete mess.

He remembered his last conversation with Gwen. Coming back to visit had never been part of his plans, but after Miracle Day and the incident in South America, it just seemed like it was expected that he would come back every so often to check on them. And Anwen was getting so big now. He supposed that was what was to be expected when you only bothered to turn up once every six to twelve months. They couldn't stay babies forever.

It even seemed like a completely normal thing to be doing, sitting in the kitchenette, perched over the counter watching as Gwen fussed around the place making the tea. Always tea. Never coffee.

'Have you been yet?' she asked.

She didn't have to specify what it was he was meant to have been to. They both knew. And still the answer was no, although he never said the word out loud. The silence that hung between them told her everything she needed to know.

She leaned forward across the counter. 'How long are you going to put this off, Jack?'

Forever, he felt like saying, feeling her eyes boring into him as he kept his gaze resolutely aimed at the counter top. He knew it upset her, his stout refusal.

'At least he got a proper burial,' she said, turning away to fetch the tea. 'Not stuffed into some freezer cabinet and then blown into tiny pieces.' She slammed the mug of tea down on the counter in front of him in anger, some of the contents sloshing over the side and onto the bench.

'How do you think he'd feel, knowing you didn't care enough?'

She couldn't tell if it was the spillage or her words that caused him to flinch violently. He never used to be this highly strung. She knew he cared of course, but it was so hard to tell these days. He'd always kept a lot of his true feelings hidden beneath a surface of smiles and laughter, but now it seemed like it was more of an effort to keep that particular mask in place.

'I,' he paused, trying to find words that didn't exist, 'can't.' That was the plain truth of it. He just couldn't. Denial was the wrong word. It just plain hurt too much. Even now, three years later, the pain of it felt as fresh as that very first moment.

Gwen had perched herself carefully on the counter stool beside him, glad for the fact that Rhys had taken Anwen to the park, to give them a bit of time alone.

'Can't or won't?' she suggested, placing her hand on his arm. 'Maybe this is what you need, some closure. He's been gone a long time, Jack. You can't pretend that's ever going to change. Saying goodbye,' she paused to sip her own tea, 'it might help.'

'We had our goodbyes,' Jack muttered, hating having to relive that awful moment when he knew that he was going to lose him. 'You still visit?' he asked, trying to divert her attention.

'Sometimes,' she admitted. 'We go up and lay flowers, dust away the dirt. Rhys trims the weeds.'

'He would have been annoyed by the weeds.' Jack hated thinking of the place as being overgrown and unloved. He deserved better. He loved Gwen for being her, and for looking after him. Looking after them both.

'That's what Rhys said,' she agreed.

The both shared a small laugh, and it felt less hollow than it could have.

Despite their conversation, by the time he'd hailed the next available ship passing by, on his way to somewhere else once more, he'd avoided going there yet again. It he wasn't ready now, it was doubtful he was ever going to be.

That was why this new turn of events was so completely out of the blue that he wasn't sure what the right decision was.

Running into an ex time agent was about as likely as finding a bar on a planet inhabited solely by pink flying elephants. Probably less so. The time agency had been long since defunct, it's former employees scattered across all of time and space, eking out an existence whenever they could. Most had gone to ground, or were in various Shadow Proclamation prisons across the universe, having taken none too well to the freedom that their vortex manipulators offered them. Without a proper mission to keep them on the reasonably straight and narrow, they had a tendency to fall foul of various classes of species, aiming to take advantage. Many of them had done so before the time agency had been disbanded, but to a lesser extent.

A wild night of drinking and gambling had lead him into his current windfall. With his own vortex manipulator beyond repair, as it had been for the better part of nearly two centuries, his winnings were a prize beyond value. Twenty four hours in any part of space and time he wished. His gambling time agent cohort had run out of currency, and desperate to win it back, had offered Jack something he could only have dreamed for.

The answer as to where he would go seemed immediately obvious, and yet as soon as the thought had entered his mind, he quickly dismissed it as perfect insanity. He couldn't. Could he?

The time agent was both annoyed at the loss, but obviously grateful that Jack had not tried to bargain for more than had been offered. That said, he wanted to satisfy his end of their deal as quickly as possible.

'Hurry up and make up your mind where we're going.'

Jack wished he had more time to consider his options. He really shouldn't. Really, really shouldn't. He wanted more time to think it over, but the time agent was having none of it. In the end, Jack made the decision he hadn't thought himself capable of. If he didn't go now, he might regret it for the rest of his days, which in his case, could be a very long time.

'I know where we're going, I just need an hour to calibrate the exact time.'

Reluctantly the time agent agreed and left Jack to retire to his room aboard the cruise vessel to make the necessary calculations.

Despite all the long years that had passed, Jack still had access to all of the Torchwood databases. The organisation itself might be long gone, as was the hub, but all of their old systems had never been shut down. That was the beauty of having your redundancy servers tucked fifty feet under the middle of the Australian outback. The FBI, CIA, Interpol and MI5 might have thought they had all the paper files on Torchwood securely locked away, but they had no idea that the rest of the iceberg was buried under a million tonnes of dusty red earth on the other side of the planet.

Within minutes, he was inside their databanks and searching their logs for what he needed. And what he needed was a night where he was on nightly hub duty, alone. A night where he'd sent everyone else home, and a night where nothing of consequence had happened. It was harder than he first thought. He'd truly taken for granted how hard his lover had worked, almost never taking a night off, and certainly even rarer that he would take a night off if Jack wasn't accompanying him. It said a lot that he would rather have stayed at the hub with Jack, curled up asleep on the lumpy sofa in his office, whilst Jack worked late into the night.

Finally he found what he was looking for, and confirmed it by checking out the computer logout records. He knew exactly when he'd left the hub and what time he'd returned the next morning. That was his window. For one night only, he could return to Cardiff and see the one person he thought he'd never see again.

He returned to the main bar an hour later, as agreed. The time agent, true to his word, was waiting there for him. A few moments later, they had ducked into an empty hallway, and in a glow of orange light, they were gone.

The agent seemed to sense his reticence as they landed on the plass, a cold wind whipping up around them, and tearing through Jack's hair.

'You're not crossing your own timeline or anything, are you?'

'No,' Jack lied. It was rule number one on the agency list. Bad things happened when you mucked with your own timeline. He'd come this far, and he knew how to be careful. It was worth the risk.

'See you tomorrow, then. Same time, same place. If you're not here, I'm leaving without you.'

'I'll be here,' Jack confirmed. As much as it pained him being here, he also knew it would be impossible to stay. What would be the point, having to hide out from himself for years? No, come this time tomorrow, he would be here, ready to return to his own timeline.

He was early, hours early. That was okay. He needed the time to think. He was an impetuous creature at the best of times. Perhaps a few hours to reason with himself that this was a bad idea would help. He could always bug out at the last minute and hole himself up in a hotel for the night, waiting until morning when common sense would prevail that he really shouldn't be here.

He trundled up the street and into the city centre, finding the place he was looking for. The only coffee shop in Cardiff that served what Ianto would describe as acceptable coffee. As he sat at the window, looking out onto  the streets and the people that streamed by, he observed that nothing had changed. It was the same time and place as before, so it shouldn't have changed, yet Jack had expected it to look different somehow. Instead it was all just as he'd remembered it. If anything, it seemed brighter, cleaner, the people more cheery. Then again, perhaps his brain was trying to make it look better than it was, enhanced by the knowledge that somewhere out there was his lover, alive and whole. That in itself made the place better.

At five o'clock the cafe closed, forcing him back out on to the streets, still unresolved. Everywhere he looked  there were memories of his old life, and for the first time he realised that part of the nauseating feeling in the pit of his stomach that had followed him everywhere since, was homesickness. As hard as he'd tried to get away from here, to find his Doctor and rejoin the life he'd had before, this was where he'd come to belong.

He wandered down towards Mermaid Quay and stared out across the darkening waters of the bay, breathing in the salty air and quelling some of the anxiety he felt about what he was about to do. At six thirty, he made his decision and started off again.

By the time he'd reached the door, the overpowering nausea had returned. He quickly knocked on the door before he could change his mind and bolt for the stairwell. He half expected to burst into tears and hurriedly thought of an excuse he could use, just in case.

What he hadn't expected was the sight of the man standing in the open doorway, dressed in an apron and marigolds, with a dark smudge of something across his cheek. He looked ridiculous. Jack's breath hitched in his throat, and then he found himself bursting into laughter. The shock of seeing Ianto again after so many years  turned to hysteria and Jack couldn't stop laughing, convinced he was going mad or hallucinating, or both.

'When you've quite finished,' came they slightly annoyed voice.

Jack tried his best to compose himself. He placed his hands on Ianto's shoulders, as much to steady himself as to convince himself that Ianto was definitely real.

'Is it the rift? Do you need me?' came the question.

'I will always need you Jones, Ianto Jones,' he replied wistfully. 'No, tonight I thought we could spend some time together, just you and me.'

'I thought you were on rift duty?'

'Called in a favour with Owen. He owes me a few.'

Ianto seemed to accept Jack's explanation as plausible and finally stood back from the doorway to let him in. The sight of the familiar interior of the flat tugged at his heartstrings. It didn't exist anymore. The old flat had since been sold, and the proceeds from the estate placed in trust for David and Mica.

'Did you have anything particular in mind?' Ianto asked, breaking Jack from his thoughts, and divesting himself of the apron and gloves. 'I'm guessing that watching me clean the oven isn't that exciting?'

'Is that what you were doing? I thought you must have been in the middle of combating a commercial oil spill.'

'Har har.'

'Grab your coat. We're heading out.'

Ianto followed Jack's instructions, returning in jeans and a thick pullover, coat tucked under his arm.

Jack smiled warmly at his beautiful lover, noticing the smudge still on his cheek. He needed no further excuse to finally approach and stand just inches apart from the man. He pulled out his handkerchief and gently scrubbed away the offending stain, before tracing a thumb over the now clean skin. It felt so soft and warm. He resisted the urge to lean in and kiss him on the lips, instead opting for the same spot on his cheek. He wasn't quite ready yet.

As they rolled down the stairs and out into the underground car park, Ianto couldn't spot the SUV.

'Where's the car?'

'Left it at the hub for Owen,' Jack lied. 'Thought we'd take yours.'

'You walked all the way to Grangetown?'

Jack just shrugged. 'The fresh air helped clear my head.'

Ianto rolled his eyes at Jack, but in that endearing way that said he was completely mad, but that he loved him just the same. Jack would never get tired of that look.

'Since you're the keeper of the secrets tonight, you'd better drive,' he instructed, tossing the keys in Jack's direction.

Jack drove them a few blocks to their favourite Chinese takeout and picked up food before loading them back into the car and on the road once more. He took them out of the city and up into the hills that lay beyond the city lights. Twenty minutes later they were parked at the top of a lush hillside, the valley spilling out below them, lights from the houses that zigzagged along its side, twinkling.

Jack extracted the large throw rug from the car boot, which he knew would be there, along with the camping lantern.

'A bit late for a picnic isn't it?' Ianto asked, but sat down making himself comfortable all the same.

'Tonight is just for us,' Jack explained, unwrapping the still warm containers of food.

Ianto studied him whilst he snapped apart the pairs of chopsticks and doled out napkins, as Jack was already stuffing a spring roll into his mouth. He seemed different tonight, a little distant and pensive.

'Is everything okay?'

'Huh?' Jack muttered, mouth still half full of food. He hadn't noticed Ianto staring at him in the semi darkness.

'You don't seem yourself.'

Jack knew he hadn't physically changed, but something inside of him had. He'd been broken and lost, without any sense of purpose, and tomorrow he'd have to return to that state and keep going. Being here now, he didn't think he'd be able to. He'd already tried to blow himself to oblivion in the house of the dead, but Ianto had stopped him, tricked him into getting out whilst the whole thing imploded into the rift. He wasn't sure he'd ever get the same chance again. So far he'd been able to contain the swelling tumult of emotions he felt being back here with Ianto, but couldn't be sure how much longer he could maintain control.

'Maybe I have,' he confessed. 'That's why I needed to be here with you tonight.' He reached out and took Ianto's hand in his. 'You keep me focused on what's important.'

He caught the brief smile on Ianto's face and the gentle squeezing of his hand. There didn't need to be further words.

They continued to eat and fell into an easy conversation, talking about everything and nothing at the same time,  laughing at jokes and stories, and enjoying the moments where they began sharing more intimate parts of their lives, their families and their past.

Finally, as they sat together, shoulder to shoulder, watching the lights in the valley below them slowly burn out, Jack felt ready. He reached across with a hand on Ianto's cheek and pulled his face forward, his lips finding Ianto's and gently pressing together. It felt like the whole world had suddenly stopped as they began kissing. He hadn't realised just how much he had missed him until this moment.

Their kissing continued, but there was a slight shift. Jack eased back slightly, the motion subtle and known to both of them that he was conceding control to Ianto. He wanted his lover to take charge, unsure that he could do it himself in his current emotional state. He felt Ianto press his lips firmly against Jack's own, as Jack wrapped his arms around Ianto's neck. Ianto wrapped his own underneath Jack's arms and carefully eased him back down onto the rug, never breaking contact. They kissed and caressed for what felt like an eternity to Jack, but never went beyond that, enjoying their tender ministrations. When finally they broke apart, they lay next to one another, watching the stars overhead until the chill in the air became more than they could bear. They packed up and headed back home.

By the time they'd pulled up in the car park and piled into the lift, they both knew they wanted more. They were still locked in a fiery kiss by the time the lift opened out into the  hallway, and Ianto struggled and fumbled with the keys to the door, all the while still trying desperately to force his tongue further into Jack's mouth. Eventually they made it inside and quickly started removing clothes in their determined attempts to reach more skin. Clothes littered the foyer, the hall, the kitchen and bathroom. By the time they'd reached the bedroom, there was little left that hadn't already been removed.

Jack finally found some of his inner resolve and took charge once more, driven by the need to touch and taste every last inch of his lover's body. It was just as he'd remembered it, surprising himself with just how familiar it was even after all this time. He'd had sex since then, and a few flings, but none of it made him feel the way he did now.

He took his time exploring every part, giving it the attention it deserved, but eventually felt the rising need inside his lover building. His own desperate yearning was also gaining momentum so he gave into it, slowly entering Ianto. If it was possible to die from happiness Jack thought this moment would be his last, as he began making love to Ianto in earnest, their passion increasing with each movement, each touch, each kiss. Their eventual climax was one of the purest ecstasy imaginable. Jack could feel his head spinning in violently fast circles, his body shuddering so hard he though he might pass out. He noticed Ianto's own heavy breathing as his body shook underneath him in his own descent downwards. Jack's lips found his lover's once more, his kisses those of appreciation and absolute joy.

They settled side by side, arms wrapped around one another as they rode out the haze of post coital bliss. Jack stroked a hand through Ianto's hair, revelling in its soft curls, fingertips brushing across the scalp underneath in a soothing way. He watched the peaceful expression settling on his face, lit by the silvery moonlight that streamed through the bedroom window, as his eyes drifted closed, breath growing slow and even.

'I want you to know that I'll always come back for you,' Jack spoke quietly.

'I know,' Ianto replied sleepily.

Jack continued his gentle touches as Ianto fell asleep, trying to etch his expression deeply into his memory. Their foreheads and noses were pressed together, and Ianto's warm breath ghosted over Jack's lips. He breathed each of them in, trying to soak up as much of Ianto's life force as possible, knowing that with each breath, Ianto grew one step closer to the bitter inevitability that one day, he would breathe his last, and there would be no more. All warmth would be gone, replaced by cold nothingness.
He didn't want the night to end, determined to stay awake and spend every minute he had left with his lover, but despite his best efforts, Jack found himself slipping away into tranquil repose.

He awoke in the early hours of the morning, still wrapped up in Ianto's arms. For a while he thought he must have been dreaming, before remembering the incredible few hours before. He felt warm and safe, something he hadn't felt for such a long time. He spied the time on the bedside clock, and knew he had less than an hour before he would have to slip away and leave his lover behind for the last time. He felt a tear running down the side of his face, hot and wet. How could he leave again? Only he knew the truth. Ianto would simply think that he had left early and headed back to the hub, where his real self had been all night. He was used to Jack getting up early or leaving in the middle of the night. Wasn't that the very reason he'd picked last night to come here?

He half wondered if he shouldn't just take Ianto with him right now. They could go anywhere together and there would be nothing stopping them. But Jack knew that wasn't entirely true. If he took Ianto from his timeline now, he could end up altering his own. What would the him in this timeline do if Ianto suddenly disappeared one day, never to return? It would tear him apart. And there was no telling what impact it might have on Earth. All of the things that they had done, the aliens and the crises. What might happen if Ianto weren't there to help stop them? It didn't bear thinking about. He knew he couldn't take Ianto from this timeline any more than he could bring him back from the dead. The night would have to remain as it was. One incredible night that he never thought he would ever get to have. It wasn't goodbye, but for Jack it was a goodbye of sorts. If he hadn't appreciated what they'd had before, he did now, and he knew that he wouldn't have changed a minute of it.

Reluctantly he pulled back the covers and extracted himself from the tangle of arms and legs. He padded through the flat, retrieving all of his clothes from  their earlier frenzied efforts. Once he was fully dressed, he risked one final visit to the bedroom. Ianto was still sleeping, but his alarm would wake him in ten minutes. Jack needed to be gone before then. He stared down at his lover, trying hard to not to cry and feeling like his heart was being torn from his chest and squeezed in a vice at the same time. He kneeled down the stroked his face one last time, lips gently brushing his forehead.

'I love you,' he whispered, feeling better for having said it out aloud, even if he knew Ianto couldn't hear him.

With a heavy heart, he slipped out of the flat and closed the door behind him. Tears streamed down his face down the entire thirty minute walk back to the plass.

He wiped his face as he approached the plass, spotting the time agent standing there waiting for him.

'You look like hell,' he observed, 'I thought you were coming here for a good time?'

'I did,' Jack replied, sounding hollow.

'Well, good time or not, that's our bargain squared away. Time we were off.'

Jack heaved in a breath and took one last look around the plass. The whole place felt like one giant graveyard, the water tower a shining tombstone for those that worked beneath it's shadow. He wouldn't be coming back here again now.

For a moment he almost thought he caught sight of a familiar figure in a black suit and red shirt walking along the quay, but he was sure he must have imagined it. In any case, the figure didn't see him standing there, if it had existed at all in the first place.

'Goodbye Ianto,' Jack whispered, as the view of Cardiff faded in the orange glow.