He wasn't supposed to be there. Wasn't supposed to see what he
saw, hear what he heard; the tears in Jack's eyes, the raw pain in
Jack's voice, the strange noise that sounded like it came from
everywhere and nowhere and the space left where before there had been…
Ianto couldn't swear to a blue police box. But it left behind a
big remote control shoebox with a swivel head and a red patch like the
car from Knight Rider or the robots from Battlestar Galactica.
(Good old sci-fi from his childhood. When robots were watched from behind the sofa - dependable, predictable, PG.)
He'd been in the back of the SUV in the Hub's garage when Jack had
almost yanked the driver's side door off in his hurry to get in, had
sworn at the key when it had refused to go in the ignition sideways-on,
gunned the engine (the first time Ianto had thought the description
properly fitted the action) and reversed the car out of the garage at
approximately the same speed he'd proceeded to drive at for just over
two and a half hours. For an hour of it, Ianto had stayed silent
on the back seat behind Jack, tucked close to the door with Toshiko's
high-tech setup for cover; tensed and scared of what Jack might do if
he discovered him there.
But as they got onto the Severn Crossing over to England, he decided
that if he was going to be abandoned on the side of the M4, he'd rather
not be much further from Cardiff than he already was. His, "Where
are going?" literally made Jack jump, made him twist to glance back
over his shoulder as Ianto moved to lean between the seats.
"What the hell are you doing here?"
He didn't want to tell Jack that the SUV was the only soundproofed part
of the Hub. Didn't want to say that when the pain got too bad,
too unbearable, he would lock himself in the vehicle and cry, hard and
loud, trying to purge the pain even though it never subsided, not
really. He didn't want to, so he didn't answer, and Jack went
back to driving, considering his options, Ianto guessed. In the
end he didn't stop. They drove in silence to the other end of the
M4, around the M25 and then into London, ending up in a district
sign-posted Deffry Vale, passing a high school which looked the worse
for wear - like a massive explosion had blown out its windows and a
fire had blackened its walls - and into a nearby park, driving
illegally up a rough path, thick tyres on the grass, almost mowing down
a couple walking their dog, until Jack had slammed his foot on the
brake and Ianto had heard the unearthly sound and seen… what had he
seen?
Now he sat in the back, trying not to cower as Jack took the first
surge of surface rage out on the steering wheel and threw open the car
door, pretending to or possibly actually forgetting that he was
there. A woman with shoulder-length dark hair was crouching by
the remote control box, and Ianto watched as Jack walked up to her,
more tentative with each step. Quietly, he got out of the car and
moved forward until he could lean against the high bonnet of the
SUV. As cautious as he was around Jack, he couldn't help but want
to know what had brought them all the way across the country to this
seemingly random place, although it obviously was anything but.
As he watched, the woman turned, stood, smiled, and asked, "Another
stranded companion?"
Ianto didn't understand it. Jack didn't answer it. But he
swiped the back of his hand across his eyes, wiping away the tears
Ianto had seen in the rear view mirror. The woman extended her
hand. "I'm Sarah Jane Smith, and this is K-9."
Ianto took another couple of steps, he couldn't help it, because she'd
stepped aside and the box on wheels had come forward, head moving,
little antennae ears turning. It looked like something designed
in the 1970s, but he was starting to wonder if the technology wasn't a
lot, lot later.
Jack crouched down, apparently drawn to the thing which now was
starting to look more like an early prototype of Sony's Aibo than just
a metal box, and Ianto distinctly heard what it said in a quizzical,
mechanical tone.
"Master?"
He saw the expression on Sarah Jane's face and for some reason felt the same emotion. Master?
"Why does it think you're… him?"
Him?
Jack held out his hand, like he would to a living, breathing animal,
and the tin dog rolled closer, resting what was presumably its chin in
the palm of Jack's hand. Finally Jack spoke, for the first time
since Ianto had made his presence known, back west of Bristol. "I
wasn't a companion. Don't think I'm in the same line of
hangers-on that you stand in." He was staring at the dog, thumb
stroking the line of its 'jaw'. There were more tears in his
voice when he continued. "I loved him."
Her tone was hard, "We all loved him."
But Jack was shaking his head. "The Doctor and I were lovers."
There really wasn't a comeback to that particular revelation.
~
"Mickey said…."
Ianto saw the hurt in Jack's eyes moments before they hardened. "He's travelling with Mickey?"
They didn't belong in the café they were sitting in, with its
plastic checked tablecloths, splintered wooden chairs, sticky bottles
of ketchup, twisted cutlery, paper napkins. But then, Jack didn't
belong in this town, in this country, on this planet. Ianto
watched him with the part of his mind that wasn't listening, the part
that wasn't disbelieving. Not American then.
"He is now. Mickey made a comment that he was the tin dog.
But I've always thought we're all tin dogs; all just tagging along for
the ride, walking at his side, in his shadow. Disposable."
Jack shook his head. "Not me."
"Then what were you?"
He smiled sadly. "I was the one with no strings. No
emotional attachment. That was why he let me get closer than
anyone else. I was like him - a Time Agent, someone who
understood; someone who knew there couldn't be an emotional attachment
because it’s a lonely life. It has to be like that. He's a
lonely man."
"But you share the curse of the companions." Sarah Jane held her
mug in both hands, looking as if at any moment she might cry while
Jack, opposite her, picking with the fingers of one hand at the corner
of the tablecloth, looking the same way and Ianto sitting next to her,
bolt-upright, hands in his lap. "I saw tears in your eyes when
you missed him." At Jack's heel the tin dog - K-9, she'd called
it - sat silent and still, Jack's hand on its head, idly stroking as if
it felt the touch. Maybe it did. Or maybe it wasn't for
K-9, maybe it was for Jack. It was a connection to the Doctor,
something physical, something real, more real than a memory, more real
than lots of memories.
"I lied to myself, told myself I was different, I was better than the
others, and when we were in bed I saw this look in his eyes and told
myself he loved me as much as I loved him." There was a terrible
sadness in Jack's voice, defeat in the slope of his shoulders, the
curve of his back, so much exhaustion taking its toll, all those nights
without sleep finally catching up. This was Jack Harkness
stripped bare and Ianto could see what he realised now they'd all
missed. Jack was a monster. But he was made that way.
Haven't you ever loved someone, Jack?
"He left me on a dead space station, surrounded by little piles of dust
that had once been Daleks and corpses that had once been people.
It has taken me… years, more than I can count, to get here, to get to a
place I know he'll come back to, to a time I know he's been, and I
overshot. One chance and I wind up a year too late."
The pieces fell into place like a giant 3-D jigsaw. Ianto knew
what was coming next. Torchwood, the one organisation that was
sure to know whenever the Doctor came near Earth. Cardiff, the
scene of the almost-catastrophe, the place that was almost ripped apart
by energy, the home of the rift - a rip in time and space. Where
else could Jack go? Where else could he wait? He wanted to
laugh. All that crap about arming mankind and being ready for the
changes that were coming… Jack wasn't some hero. He was exactly
like them. As devastated, as shattered, as screwed up as the rest
of them. And at that moment, for the first time since Lisa's
death, Ianto didn't hate him.
He looked at Sarah Jane, saw sympathy shining in her eyes and knew
instinctively that Jack wouldn't want it. Like him, she was
thrown by everything Jack had said, and she'd only known him an hour or
two. Try being me. Try turning what you thought you knew on its head. Try loving him instead of loathing him. "Why does K-9 think you're him?"
Jack shrugged, shoulders looking heavier than usual. "I don't
know. I don't think he does. It's not that he's recognising
the Doctor. He's recognising… what's inside me. Whatever it
is, something did it."
"What are you talking about?"
Ianto was glad she'd asked it, he really didn't want to. But Jack
shook his head; he wasn't telling. He got up, scraping the chair
across the dull blue tiles. Ianto followed suit, as K-9 raised
his head.
"Master?"
Ianto pretended the same word wasn't in the back of his own mind.
But Jack was still staring at Sarah Jane. "Like you said, I missed him again. He'll come back. He has to."
"And what then? You can't go with him, not again."
"I can. Partly because he owes me an explanation. But mostly because he needs me as much as I need him."
"He doesn't need anybody."
Jack put his hands flat on the table, leaned forward, and Ianto
couldn't be certain he wouldn't react with violence. Jack didn't
discriminate between men and women on any level. "Don't say that
until you've been buried to the balls inside him, held his hard cock in
your hand, looked into his eyes as he's climaxed and seen the weight of
the universe in his soul. No one can bear that burden alone, not
even him."
He turned, coat furling dramatically behind him. Ianto smiled,
stopped smiling, turned and almost tripped over K-9 as he followed.
"Er, Jack?" Apart from introducing himself, they were the only
words he'd said since their destructive arrival in the park, and he was
pleased that the sound of his voice got Jack's attention. He
stopped, looked back over his shoulder. "You've got another
follower."
Did he imagine the quirk of a smile touching the edge of Jack's lips?
Crouching down, Jack patted the side of the dog's head. "You have to stay here, boy."
"Master?"
"I'm not your master, K-9." There were more tears, not in his
eyes but definitely in his voice and Ianto was stunned, despite
everything he'd heard. Up until then, he wasn't sure he'd
believed it. "You have to stay." He straightened again.
"Take him."
Ianto looked at where Sarah Jane was still sitting at the table.
"I can't."
"You can. Right now, you need him more than I do. If you
find him, the Doctor, if you go with him, have Ianto here bring K-9
back to me."
He was leaving, Ianto realised, with the suddenness of other
realisations, other feelings. Jack was temporary,
transitory. He was a gift. A pain in the ass, habitual
flirt, man with a death wish, but still a gift. And he himself
was about to refuse the gift he was being offered.
"Take him with us, Jack." Tired blue eyes locked with his own and
something cracked open inside him; this chance meeting, this being
offered the Doctor's tin dog, was all too much for the man who'd killed
Lisa, the man who'd murdered Mary, the man Ianto had thought couldn't
feel anything was feeling everything, wrung out. He repeated
gently, "Take him with us."
~
Ianto guessed it was going to be a quiet drive back to Cardiff.
It was early evening, getting dark, when they left London and Jack
stayed more or less at the same speed as the other cars, turning off
the motorway at junction 15 and heading south. Ianto didn't
question it. He didn't much care where they were going.
Jack's impressive armour had been prized open and he'd seen through the
cracks into the emotional chaos beneath. Now there was something
desperately sad about his flirtatious routine, something caged behind
his easy-going manner. He'd lost more than any of them ever could
imagine. He'd seen more, knew more, remembered more and it put
their worries, their losses, their lives into some perspective.
He'd killed Mary, but she herself had been a murderer. He'd
killed Lisa… who'd killed her surgeon and the innocent young girl who'd
delivered the pizza; a girl with a family who had to live believing
she'd been so unhappy with them she'd killed herself. Hung
herself. How was Jack a monster compared to them?
It was dark by the time Jack stopped the SUV at the side of a quiet
country road on the brow of a rise in the sculptured landscape.
They were close to Avebury, Ianto knew that from countless childhood
visits and school trips to the surrounding 'sites of interest'.
The only place that had interested him as a boy was the long barrow and
the idea that the decaying skeletons of the ancient dead were just on
the other side of the stone and dirt walls.
He left the warmth of the car, walking around to where Jack was leaning
against the bonnet, head tipped back, looking up into the night sky.
"I wanted to see the stars," he explained without prompting when Ianto
moved to stand next to him. "You can't see them properly in
Cardiff - too much light pollution. I used to drive up into the
Brecons but the fun's kinda gone out of that now."
"I don't think the entire area's populated by cannibals."
Jack threw a brief smile his way and he caught it, letting it warm him
from the inside out. There was so much hurt between he and Jack,
so much they'd said to one another that they'd both meant, cutting to
the bone with every word, every threat. Could that simply be
undone? Put aside? Forgotten?
It took the same amount of courage and determination that it had done
to get Lisa and the equipment out of Canary Wharf for him to reach
across the void and touch the back of Jack's hand with his own where it
hung at his side. Skin against skin, feeling the warmth of
him. At the same time, he asked, "What's it like out there?"
Jack smiled again, to himself this time, and pressed his hand just
slightly against Ianto's. "Vast. Every culture, every
religion, every shape you can think of is out there."
"Once you've seen that, it can't be easy being stuck in Cardiff, in
Wales. On Earth." Slowly he slipped his hand behind Jack's,
ghosting his fingertips across the hot palm.
"It's impossible," Jack answered simply. "But I don't have a
choice at the moment. Unless some alien conveniently lands a
spaceship in one piece on our doorstep, I am well and truly stuck for
now." It was difficult to carry on the conversation with so many
other thoughts rushing through his head. Ianto closed his fingers
over Jack's hand and Jack's eyes flicked across to look at him.
"Do you know what you're doing?"
"I'm not a child, Jack." Mustering all the courage he'd ever
known, he moved, keeping hold of Jack's hand as he stood before
him. "I asked you if you'd ever loved anyone. I saw the
truth in your eyes that night and I ignored it."
"You had enough on your mind."
"All the same… calling you a monster wasn't fair. We're all
monsters in one way or another, you're no worse than the rest of us."
He felt a pull on his hand and allowed Jack to lift it, to hold it to his chest, and Ianto waited for whatever came next.
"I'll leave at the first chance, you know I will."
"I know."
"You love so intensely, Ianto. You give your heart and soul, everything you are."
"And you don't? We have a tin dog in the back of the SUV that
once belonged to the Doctor. You drove the breadth of the country
just on the off-chance you'd catch him before he left."
Jack was shaking his head. "Not for love. Because there are answers I need, explanations."
"You'd have left with him."
"Yes."
"Not for those answers. The only time I've seen you desperate,
Jack, is when Carys had hold of that jar with the hand in it. I
know who that hand belonged to. I know you loved him; you're
still in love with him. You have so many defences it's almost
impossible to get through them. But not quite."
"I've hurt you enough."
"I think I should be the one to make that decision, don't you?"
Ianto took the last step forward, raised his free hand to Jack's cheek,
pushed his fingers into the fine hair above his ear, and leaned towards
him, heart pounding, pulse racing… Jack soft lips responded, caressed
his and then parted, letting him slide his tongue inside. The
next thing he knew, his hand was dropped and Jack's strong arms were
around him like a vice, grasping him, and he was being kissed by a man
starved of contact, starved of sex and love.
Cupping Jack's face in his hands, he gave everything he had left,
feeling his wet cheeks and knowing the tears weren't his own.
Jack had reached his limits in the café, Ianto realised now that
he was pushing beyond them; Jack was breaking right there in his arms.
Stepping back from the kiss, he saw the flash of pain on the expressive
features and taking his hands, drew him along the SUV until he could
open the door to the back seats. Jack went without needing to be
told, lying down in the dark across the leather, reaching for Ianto,
straining his neck to reach his mouth as soon as he was close enough,
coaxing Ianto's weight down on top of him, not the most comfortable of
positions but definitely the most erotic. Something about it
being the back seat of a car, something about the hard male body felt
through so many layers of clothing, the press of Jack's erection into
his thigh, the way Jack's ankle hooked over his own to keep him in
place… so sexy, so much of a turn on Ianto could feel his body's
immediate response.
The tongue in his mouth was wreaking havoc with his self-control,
regressing him back to his teenage years; all those awkward fumblings
behind bike sheds, in the park, in the front of his parents' car parked
up in some high-hedged farm track after the village pub had
closed. Reaching between them he unfastened his own fly,
wriggling as he fought to push his trousers and boxers down over his
hips. Jack's hands joined his, working furiously until he felt
the chill of the outside air and a hot, flushed erection spring up
against his own. He groaned into Jack's mouth, brought his knee
up, gave them room, their fingers threaded together, palms holding
their dicks, rubbing against one another. Jack's free hand was at
his waist, scrabbling at his shirt, pulling it from his waistband,
pushing up until big fingers spread over his back; caressing,
exploring, bathing in his warmth. He couldn't recall ever wanting
anyone more. A gentle finger danced over the head of his dick and
he arched his back, thrusting forward, up through the combined grip and
sweaty heat of their joined hands. He could feel his climax in
his toes, crawling along his arms, teasing the insides of his
thighs. Jack was making the most incredible noises at the back of
his throat, vibrations in the kiss, and Ianto was swallowing them,
reaching for them with his tongue, desperate at that moment to climb
into Jack's body and stay there….
He came, hard and fast, coating their hands, triggering Jack's orgasm,
as he arched his neck, breaking the kiss long enough to yell his climax
to the uncaring landscape. Ianto relaxed bonelessly onto Jack's
welcoming body, held there in Jack's arms, and in the quiet they heard
a mechanical voice say again, "Master?"
He felt more than heard Jack's chuckle. "It's okay, K-9.
I'm okay." Ianto lifted his head and in the dark he caught the
glint of starlight in Jack's eyes. Fingers combed through his
hair and he thought that he might actually die for the expression on
Jack's face just then. "I'm more than okay." Jack kissed
him.
They cleaned themselves up as best they could and stood next to the SUV
for a long time, neither in a hurry to get back to what passed as
normality for the both of them. "No pretending this didn't
happen," Jack told him as he put his arms around him and hauled him
close. Ianto put his hands on the broad shoulders and shook his
head in agreement.
"What about the tin dog? How do we explain that?"
"We just say it belongs to an old friend, and we're dog-sitting until
he returns." So Jack's involvement with the Doctor wasn't going
to become public knowledge. Ianto liked that. He'd never
have Jack, not really, however many nights they spent together, however
many times they made love. But he had a part of Jack the others
would never have, and he knew that would be enough. It had to be
enough.
It was close to midnight when they finally arrived home.
Switching off the engine, Jack turned to him and said, "I want you to
remember, no matter what happens; you were never the tin dog."
Ianto nodded. Jack had seen other cultures, other worlds, one
adventure following hot on the heels of another. And that's what
he was, that's what Torchwood was. Just another adventure, an
episode in Jack's long life, one he happened to be sharing. And
for the first time since the attack on Canary Wharf, he was happy to be
exactly who and where he was.
fin
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