Dependency
Sep. 18th, 2008 08:32 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dani_the_girlTitle: Dependency
Fandom: Torchwood
Rating: Gen
Summary: Jack comes back from the dead early to find himself alone. He goes looking for Ianto.
Notes: So, I had the idea for this a while back, but wanted to fit to to a prompt from my![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
fanfic50 table, which I couldn't do so I kind of pushed it aside. And then it wouldn't go away but just simmered in the back of my head. Reading the prompts to thestopwatch the other day really reminded me of it though (why is it that so many people seem to like the idea of smoking Ianto?) so I decided to write it. RL is not in a position where I can easily avail myself of beta services right now and this is probably the first thing I've posted where I think really I could have done a better job with it if I let it sit and mature but the way stuff is right now I doubt it'd get posted at all if I did so here it is. Which is a round about way of saying please let me know of any egregious mistakes :)
Jack came to and strained his ears. Silence. Which was odd - even if things had resolved themselves he would have expected hear the others somewhere near. And he was lying on his back, he noticed, hands by his sides. He was almost certain that he would have fallen forwards when the Loakarite slashed his throat, not back, given his momentum at the time and definitely not this neatly. He provisionally categorised it as a good sign. Also, he noticed, mood brightening considerably, he seemed to be in a dry shirt. Given that this morning's one had to be a bloody mess, that meant someone had changed him, which meant that all was probably well. Perhaps they'd got back to the Hub and the others were just making coffee quietly in the kitchen in respect for his deceased state. He hoped so.
Opening his eyes and sitting up immediately confirmed at least some of his suppositions. He was on one lab table, sheet underneath and above so he wouldn't get too cold. The other was occupied by the body of the Loakarite. He glared at it, wondering if it had irretrievably ruined the shirt he'd been wearing. Even soaking it would only do so much. He pushed himself up and went to see if his other supposition had also been right. No such luck. The main area of the Hub and the kitchen were deserted. Back in his office his pistol had been placed tidily on his desk but still none of the expected other voices or faces he was looking for. It gave him an odd feeling, as if he were an intruder in his own home somehow. He shook himself and checked the CCTV logs. He found Gwen and Ianto bringing the two bodies back to the Hub. Gwen seemed to be covered in sludge from head to foot; presumably she'd lost her footing in the sewers or something. Jack found he couldn't quite watch Ianto laying him out carefully in the medical bay and skipped forward. He just caught Gwen going out the door and then Ianto came back into view, saying something she acknowledged with a wave of her hand as she left. Ianto seemed to gather himself once he was alone. He went into Jack's office but stayed only a few moments before coming out again. Jack found he was lightly gripping the pistol on his desk, as if it was some kind of dowsing rod that would tell him where to go to find Ianto. He carefully checked the safety and holstered it, eyes always on the rolling footage. Ianto went over to his workstation, rummaged for a moment before pocketing something and then, to Jack's surprise, walked purposefully away down a corridor Jack had thought no-one but himself used. Still that answered that question - only one interesting thing down there.
---
When he made it up onto the roof, he wished he'd stopped to pick up his coat first. The October wind was chilling, and it seemed Ianto hadn't replaced his undershirt, only the top layer. He suppressed a shiver and looked around. Sure enough, there was Ianto, wrapped in his own tailored coat. He was staring moodily out over Cardiff, seemingly lost in thought. As Jack watched, his hand came up and he took a long drag on a cigarette, holding the smoke for the count of several heart beats before breathing it out into the air. He looked unreachable, so far distant despite being only a few strides away and Jack very nearly backed quietly away to the service lift from whence he'd come but somehow he didn't feel quite right leaving Ianto alone to brood, so exposed. He cleared his throat.
Ianto whipped around, expression changing from closed and introspective to open and guilty in a moment as he saw Jack standing there. "God!" he exclaimed. "I didn't think you'd be up for another hour or so, all that blood loss..." he trailed off, looking stricken. "I'm so sorry, Jack!"
"Hey, don't sweat it," Jack said easily, trying to project comfort with the words. "You weren't hard to find. Gwen go home to get changed?"
"Yeah," Ianto replied, distracted. "She's talking about just moving her whole wardrobe down here - that's the third change of clothes to go this week."
"Tell her we don't have that much space," Jack smiled.
Ianto turned away almost involuntarily to look out at the view again as he raised his cigarette for another drag. Jack walked over to join him and for a moment they just stood there silently, standing up against the wind. After a moment, Ianto dug into his coat pocket, coming up with a battered packet which he proffered to Jack wordlessly. "Thanks, but no," Jack replied.
"Not a smoker?" Ianto asked, curiously. "You've been around so long, I'd have thought you'd have tried it. Not like you've anything to lose by it."
Jack smiled. "Nope, never did. Old habits die hard." Ianto glanced at him, perhaps wondering whether to voice the question. Jack forestalled him. "First thing they teach you at the agency. Don't let yourself develop any physical dependencies. Never know if you'll get stuck somewhere, somewhen and not be able to get your hands on whatever it is. Cold turkey is not what you need when you're trying to get yourself out of a sticky situation."
Ianto took another drag. "Hence the pint of water down the pub too, I presume?" Jack nodded. Ianto's lips twisted into a half smile. "This is probably a bad time to point out the addictive properties of caffeine, isn't it?" he said.
Jack grinned in return. "That's my indulgence. When I realised the damn wrist strap was broken, I thought if I was going to be stuck linear then I might as well indulge in something. And I think I can probably still shoot straight through a caffeine headache if I have to."
Ianto stuffed the pack back in his pocket and fiddled with the glowing segment of cigarette in his hand. He half turned away from the view, towards Jack. "I don't have one often," he said apologetically, as if Jack's explanation had been a rebuke, "but after, you know," he tailed off and then shook himself. "When you're dead, if you're not going to be up for a while, it helps the wait go easier. You really shouldn't be up this fast." He frowned, looking almost annoyed at Jack's excessive vitality.
"You usually know how long?" Jack asked curiously. It'd always been a mystery to him, no gap in his experience between heart beats, just lost time, which was nothing new.
"Owen and I were doing a study," Ianto said, looking out over the city again. "We think it's related to blood loss mostly, but there's something else going on too."
"Well yeah, look at Abbadon," Jack responded pointedly. He found himself irrationally irritated that they should have been making him an object of study, trying to comprehend this incomprehensible thing.
"That's an outlier," Ianto replied shortly. He took a final deep draft on his cigarette before stubbing the butt out on the parapet in front of them before wrapping it in a tissue and dropping it in a pocket. "Come on," he said, turning decisively away, back towards the door leading to the lift and eventually back to the Hub. "I'll make us a cup of coffee." He held out a hand, inviting, and Jack took it, warmth spreading from the contact as they travelled back down together.
Fandom: Torchwood
Rating: Gen
Summary: Jack comes back from the dead early to find himself alone. He goes looking for Ianto.
Notes: So, I had the idea for this a while back, but wanted to fit to to a prompt from my
fanfic50 table, which I couldn't do so I kind of pushed it aside. And then it wouldn't go away but just simmered in the back of my head. Reading the prompts to thestopwatch the other day really reminded me of it though (why is it that so many people seem to like the idea of smoking Ianto?) so I decided to write it. RL is not in a position where I can easily avail myself of beta services right now and this is probably the first thing I've posted where I think really I could have done a better job with it if I let it sit and mature but the way stuff is right now I doubt it'd get posted at all if I did so here it is. Which is a round about way of saying please let me know of any egregious mistakes :)Jack came to and strained his ears. Silence. Which was odd - even if things had resolved themselves he would have expected hear the others somewhere near. And he was lying on his back, he noticed, hands by his sides. He was almost certain that he would have fallen forwards when the Loakarite slashed his throat, not back, given his momentum at the time and definitely not this neatly. He provisionally categorised it as a good sign. Also, he noticed, mood brightening considerably, he seemed to be in a dry shirt. Given that this morning's one had to be a bloody mess, that meant someone had changed him, which meant that all was probably well. Perhaps they'd got back to the Hub and the others were just making coffee quietly in the kitchen in respect for his deceased state. He hoped so.
Opening his eyes and sitting up immediately confirmed at least some of his suppositions. He was on one lab table, sheet underneath and above so he wouldn't get too cold. The other was occupied by the body of the Loakarite. He glared at it, wondering if it had irretrievably ruined the shirt he'd been wearing. Even soaking it would only do so much. He pushed himself up and went to see if his other supposition had also been right. No such luck. The main area of the Hub and the kitchen were deserted. Back in his office his pistol had been placed tidily on his desk but still none of the expected other voices or faces he was looking for. It gave him an odd feeling, as if he were an intruder in his own home somehow. He shook himself and checked the CCTV logs. He found Gwen and Ianto bringing the two bodies back to the Hub. Gwen seemed to be covered in sludge from head to foot; presumably she'd lost her footing in the sewers or something. Jack found he couldn't quite watch Ianto laying him out carefully in the medical bay and skipped forward. He just caught Gwen going out the door and then Ianto came back into view, saying something she acknowledged with a wave of her hand as she left. Ianto seemed to gather himself once he was alone. He went into Jack's office but stayed only a few moments before coming out again. Jack found he was lightly gripping the pistol on his desk, as if it was some kind of dowsing rod that would tell him where to go to find Ianto. He carefully checked the safety and holstered it, eyes always on the rolling footage. Ianto went over to his workstation, rummaged for a moment before pocketing something and then, to Jack's surprise, walked purposefully away down a corridor Jack had thought no-one but himself used. Still that answered that question - only one interesting thing down there.
---
When he made it up onto the roof, he wished he'd stopped to pick up his coat first. The October wind was chilling, and it seemed Ianto hadn't replaced his undershirt, only the top layer. He suppressed a shiver and looked around. Sure enough, there was Ianto, wrapped in his own tailored coat. He was staring moodily out over Cardiff, seemingly lost in thought. As Jack watched, his hand came up and he took a long drag on a cigarette, holding the smoke for the count of several heart beats before breathing it out into the air. He looked unreachable, so far distant despite being only a few strides away and Jack very nearly backed quietly away to the service lift from whence he'd come but somehow he didn't feel quite right leaving Ianto alone to brood, so exposed. He cleared his throat.
Ianto whipped around, expression changing from closed and introspective to open and guilty in a moment as he saw Jack standing there. "God!" he exclaimed. "I didn't think you'd be up for another hour or so, all that blood loss..." he trailed off, looking stricken. "I'm so sorry, Jack!"
"Hey, don't sweat it," Jack said easily, trying to project comfort with the words. "You weren't hard to find. Gwen go home to get changed?"
"Yeah," Ianto replied, distracted. "She's talking about just moving her whole wardrobe down here - that's the third change of clothes to go this week."
"Tell her we don't have that much space," Jack smiled.
Ianto turned away almost involuntarily to look out at the view again as he raised his cigarette for another drag. Jack walked over to join him and for a moment they just stood there silently, standing up against the wind. After a moment, Ianto dug into his coat pocket, coming up with a battered packet which he proffered to Jack wordlessly. "Thanks, but no," Jack replied.
"Not a smoker?" Ianto asked, curiously. "You've been around so long, I'd have thought you'd have tried it. Not like you've anything to lose by it."
Jack smiled. "Nope, never did. Old habits die hard." Ianto glanced at him, perhaps wondering whether to voice the question. Jack forestalled him. "First thing they teach you at the agency. Don't let yourself develop any physical dependencies. Never know if you'll get stuck somewhere, somewhen and not be able to get your hands on whatever it is. Cold turkey is not what you need when you're trying to get yourself out of a sticky situation."
Ianto took another drag. "Hence the pint of water down the pub too, I presume?" Jack nodded. Ianto's lips twisted into a half smile. "This is probably a bad time to point out the addictive properties of caffeine, isn't it?" he said.
Jack grinned in return. "That's my indulgence. When I realised the damn wrist strap was broken, I thought if I was going to be stuck linear then I might as well indulge in something. And I think I can probably still shoot straight through a caffeine headache if I have to."
Ianto stuffed the pack back in his pocket and fiddled with the glowing segment of cigarette in his hand. He half turned away from the view, towards Jack. "I don't have one often," he said apologetically, as if Jack's explanation had been a rebuke, "but after, you know," he tailed off and then shook himself. "When you're dead, if you're not going to be up for a while, it helps the wait go easier. You really shouldn't be up this fast." He frowned, looking almost annoyed at Jack's excessive vitality.
"You usually know how long?" Jack asked curiously. It'd always been a mystery to him, no gap in his experience between heart beats, just lost time, which was nothing new.
"Owen and I were doing a study," Ianto said, looking out over the city again. "We think it's related to blood loss mostly, but there's something else going on too."
"Well yeah, look at Abbadon," Jack responded pointedly. He found himself irrationally irritated that they should have been making him an object of study, trying to comprehend this incomprehensible thing.
"That's an outlier," Ianto replied shortly. He took a final deep draft on his cigarette before stubbing the butt out on the parapet in front of them before wrapping it in a tissue and dropping it in a pocket. "Come on," he said, turning decisively away, back towards the door leading to the lift and eventually back to the Hub. "I'll make us a cup of coffee." He held out a hand, inviting, and Jack took it, warmth spreading from the contact as they travelled back down together.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-09-18 08:12 pm (UTC)It was peaceful in a way.
And Ianto smoking? I don't know.. Its a nice thought and it works well with this fic but I think I like the idea of him smoking lol. =]
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