DW/TW Fic: Broken Syllables (1/1)
Aug. 25th, 2010 10:55 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lizzledpinkTitle: Broken Syllables
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lizzledpink
Characters/Pairings: Jack/Ianto (past Jack/Rose, Jack/Doctor)
Rating: PG-13
Summary: The quiet is pleasantly deafening. Then, curiosity breaks through. “Jack,” Ianto begins softly. “Who’s Rose?” Oneshot.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. I make no money for this. I only borrow.
A/N: Thanks toceluthea for beta and britpicking services. :) This fic is pretty much an excuse for Jack/Ianto fluff and for me to speculate on what Jack thinks of Rose at this point in his life. (Also, I need a nice Jack/Ianto icon. Or at least a/an Ianto icon. (And is it an Ianto icon or a Ianto icon? Neither sounds right!))
:::
Welcome to Torchwood Three. We find people who were happy in their life, once upon a time. Then shit happened and they weren’t, but they’re still brilliant people, just a little more fucked up now, so we take them in and fight aliens and save the world, and all things considered it’s pretty damn good. Never as good as it was. That’s gone. But we’re all fucked up together and doing something about it. Could be worse. We could be living normal lives, but we’ve all had our chance at that and royally bollocksed it up. But hey, it’s good for kicks. So, still want to sign up?
Of course you do.
:::
The quiet is pleasantly deafening. Then, curiosity breaks through.
“Jack,” Ianto begins softly. “Who’s Rose?”
They are fitted together like puzzle pieces, spooning quietly and contentedly, and Jack is boneless with post-coital bliss. He is so utterly limp and relaxed that he doesn’t flinch at Rose’s name, or hardly react at all. And for some reason, some deep and inexplicable reason, he tells.
“Have you ever felt like you’ve spent your life waiting for something? That someday, something or somebody is waiting to meet you, and what happens is going to happen to you, and your life until that moment is simply build-up until then? It doesn’t matter if you’ve already found that something or somebody or if you’re still waiting, but have you felt it?”
“Yes, sir. Torchwood.” It is a lie. That’s good. Jack doesn’t want to hear the truth and Ianto doesn’t want to say it, not yet. But it is close enough to the truth that Jack will accept it, for now.
“For me, that was Rose. I grew up in a happy childhood. Then things happened. I grew up. I fought, I loved, I battled, I worked. Life, you know. Doesn’t matter when or where, it’s just life, it’s just human. So that was me. One day, I woke up, and I wasn’t happy with where I was, because I still had that niggling feeling that I was waiting. Didn’t think about it much, just knew it was there, deep in my bones, in my subconscious. I left. I ran. At this point, I was still mortal. And then, I ran into her.
“Nineteen forty-one, height of the London Blitz. I had stolen the name Captain Jack Harkness from a soldier who had died bravely. A hero. Funny enough, those were my conman days. I cheated people, played with them, seduced them on occasion, for money. That time, in the nineteen forties. Now there was a decade,” he says, with just a hint of wistfulness.
“I thought you were already immortal by the forties.”
“I was. The immortal me, the later me, who was about half a century older… I’d left Britain. Didn’t want to take any chances with the timeline. And I didn’t want to let myself be tempted. Knowing they were just a short trip away… It would have been too much. So I left early and stayed away until I knew my younger self was gone. Anyway, bombs are falling, zeppelins are in the air, and I’m out on the balcony, witnessing the passing of history. I’ll never get bored of that. Suddenly, I look up, and there’s this girl. Young, blonde, maybe twenty years old at the oldest, and absolutely gorgeous. She was hanging on a rope, secured to one of the zeppelins. Hanging in midair. If her grip had slipped she’d have died, but I’d seen her, and from then on I never stood a chance.
“With my ship’s tractor beam I picked her up. I thought she was the kind of person I could con, so I turned on the charm, and I was succeeding. If I’d pushed a little more and been a little more determined, I’d have had her easily in my bed. As it was, I was more focused on the con. But… We danced. Got on top of my ship, parked right beside the clock face of Big Ben. Stroke of midnight. I turned on Glen Miller, and we danced. Just danced, and drank champagne, over the London Blitz in January. I was trying to seduce her, but she was too bright. Rose… You have to meet her to really understand it. She just shines. She’s life and love and everything that makes the world worth it. I’d dare anybody to deny her anything, because she’s gorgeous. Young, sweet, innocent. I almost defiled that, and I’m so glad I refrained.
“I fell in love. It took a bit for me to realize it. I started to travel with her. Her, and the Doctor. Fell in love with him too, just a bit. And I knew this was what I’d been waiting for. Her, and him. Until I met them, I was a jaded conman, hurt and just struggling to find meaning in a fucked-up world. They changed everything. Made me want to be a hero. Taught me what it’s like to forget cowardice and just do something with my life. Showed me real beauty, in people, and in places, and in everything.”
“And one day, it ended. Our last adventure. A foe we couldn’t defeat; an enemy we couldn’t run from. We had to take them out, for the sake of the universe, but it meant sacrificing ourselves. The Doctor and I both knew it.” Jack slowly lets out a breath. “That was the day Jack Harkness died. My first death, my only real death. Terrible last words.
“But then Rose did it. Rose Tyler, the most ordinary girl in the world. Young and beautiful in so many ways, and I wanted to have her, but she was untouchable. Always. But she was just a shopgirl from the twenty-first century, and she did it. She did the impossible. She saved us all. And then she brought me back. Only, she was Rose, so very Rose, and I loved her, and she loved me, and we’d never so much as kissed, because the way we loved each other just didn’t work like that. It could have, but it didn’t. We thought we had all the time in the world. We were young and silly and thought things could last forever. But either way, Rose brought me to life, but she couldn’t control it, and overdid it, just a bit. Rose is why I’m here. My entire life I was waiting to meet her, because when I finally did, it meant my path was beginning. I owe everything I am to her. And I could hate her for it, because I’m a hero now, and it’s difficult, and I can’t escape it because I can’t die, not for long, and I can’t change because if I did it’d be denying everything that Rose stood for.
A short, poignant silence. “That’s Rose,” Jack finishes stupidly. “Satisfied?” he asks. He sounds hopeful, as if he’s waiting for Ianto to answer a question that is far more complex and meaningful.
“Seems like I should be jealous, but I’m not.”
“Why’s that?”
“First, I’m thankful to Rose. She’s the reason you are who you are, and I’m selfishly glad that you’re alive and here right now.”
Jack chuckles slightly and pulls Ianto closer to his chest, tickling the younger man’s ear with his breath.
“And second. You love Rose, and always will, but she’s gone now and will never know what a bloody great fuck you are. Sir.”
Jack openly laughs at that, taking the humor for what it is. “True.”
The silence that follows is comfortable. Jack has hooked his chin over Ianto’s shoulder, still holding him very close. He’s slightly and just a tad uncomfortably aroused, but sees no reason to break the simple timelessness of this moment by trying to fix that. Knowing that Ianto is thinking the same helps.
“You were happy, with her, and with the Doctor.”
Jack stretches his answer into a series of broken syllables, each with a different meaning of their own. “Yes.”
“You haven’t truly been happy since.”
“No,” Jack admits tightly. “But…”
He stretches his neck out from its comfortable resting place on Ianto’s shoulder, and kisses Ianto’s cheek, slowly, chastely, lingeringly. His lips brush and caress Ianto’s skin with the lightest of touches as he finishes his sentence. “This is pretty close.”
Ianto takes that for what it is as well. “I’m glad, Jack.”
“So am I.”
Jack settles again, and loosens his iron grip around Ianto’s chest. Inversely, the hold feels even closer than before. They could say more, but they’re afraid, and a little excited, and they have all the time in the world. It may only be a moment, a grain of sand, but they both know time’s just a bit trickier than that and this moment is happening everywhen at the same time, and will always be happening somewhen, even if that when is only in their memories and nowhen else. This moment is theirs.
Bathed in each other’s tacit warmth, they sleep.
:::
Welcome to Torchwood Three. We’re all a little messed up, but we’re a team. We’ve all been happy once and innocent, and we aren’t anymore, but we find solace in each other when we aren’t hunting down weevils and investigating mysterious artifacts. There’s a little bit of a kinship because we’re all broken, and none of us are terribly happy with the way our lives have gone. But we have each other, and a pet pterodon, and it works for us. We live for what we have, and find as near to happiness as we’re ever really going to have again. Time, ephemeral time, goes by. People change, situations change, but some things don’t. Hold on to what’s important.
Come on in. And seriously, don’t ever bring tulips. Ever. Myfanwy likes them. Thinks they’re food.
You’ll get used to it.
Author:
lizzledpink Characters/Pairings: Jack/Ianto (past Jack/Rose, Jack/Doctor)
Rating: PG-13
Summary: The quiet is pleasantly deafening. Then, curiosity breaks through. “Jack,” Ianto begins softly. “Who’s Rose?” Oneshot.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. I make no money for this. I only borrow.
A/N: Thanks to
celuthea for beta and britpicking services. :) This fic is pretty much an excuse for Jack/Ianto fluff and for me to speculate on what Jack thinks of Rose at this point in his life. (Also, I need a nice Jack/Ianto icon. Or at least a/an Ianto icon. (And is it an Ianto icon or a Ianto icon? Neither sounds right!)):::
Welcome to Torchwood Three. We find people who were happy in their life, once upon a time. Then shit happened and they weren’t, but they’re still brilliant people, just a little more fucked up now, so we take them in and fight aliens and save the world, and all things considered it’s pretty damn good. Never as good as it was. That’s gone. But we’re all fucked up together and doing something about it. Could be worse. We could be living normal lives, but we’ve all had our chance at that and royally bollocksed it up. But hey, it’s good for kicks. So, still want to sign up?
Of course you do.
:::
The quiet is pleasantly deafening. Then, curiosity breaks through.
“Jack,” Ianto begins softly. “Who’s Rose?”
They are fitted together like puzzle pieces, spooning quietly and contentedly, and Jack is boneless with post-coital bliss. He is so utterly limp and relaxed that he doesn’t flinch at Rose’s name, or hardly react at all. And for some reason, some deep and inexplicable reason, he tells.
“Have you ever felt like you’ve spent your life waiting for something? That someday, something or somebody is waiting to meet you, and what happens is going to happen to you, and your life until that moment is simply build-up until then? It doesn’t matter if you’ve already found that something or somebody or if you’re still waiting, but have you felt it?”
“Yes, sir. Torchwood.” It is a lie. That’s good. Jack doesn’t want to hear the truth and Ianto doesn’t want to say it, not yet. But it is close enough to the truth that Jack will accept it, for now.
“For me, that was Rose. I grew up in a happy childhood. Then things happened. I grew up. I fought, I loved, I battled, I worked. Life, you know. Doesn’t matter when or where, it’s just life, it’s just human. So that was me. One day, I woke up, and I wasn’t happy with where I was, because I still had that niggling feeling that I was waiting. Didn’t think about it much, just knew it was there, deep in my bones, in my subconscious. I left. I ran. At this point, I was still mortal. And then, I ran into her.
“Nineteen forty-one, height of the London Blitz. I had stolen the name Captain Jack Harkness from a soldier who had died bravely. A hero. Funny enough, those were my conman days. I cheated people, played with them, seduced them on occasion, for money. That time, in the nineteen forties. Now there was a decade,” he says, with just a hint of wistfulness.
“I thought you were already immortal by the forties.”
“I was. The immortal me, the later me, who was about half a century older… I’d left Britain. Didn’t want to take any chances with the timeline. And I didn’t want to let myself be tempted. Knowing they were just a short trip away… It would have been too much. So I left early and stayed away until I knew my younger self was gone. Anyway, bombs are falling, zeppelins are in the air, and I’m out on the balcony, witnessing the passing of history. I’ll never get bored of that. Suddenly, I look up, and there’s this girl. Young, blonde, maybe twenty years old at the oldest, and absolutely gorgeous. She was hanging on a rope, secured to one of the zeppelins. Hanging in midair. If her grip had slipped she’d have died, but I’d seen her, and from then on I never stood a chance.
“With my ship’s tractor beam I picked her up. I thought she was the kind of person I could con, so I turned on the charm, and I was succeeding. If I’d pushed a little more and been a little more determined, I’d have had her easily in my bed. As it was, I was more focused on the con. But… We danced. Got on top of my ship, parked right beside the clock face of Big Ben. Stroke of midnight. I turned on Glen Miller, and we danced. Just danced, and drank champagne, over the London Blitz in January. I was trying to seduce her, but she was too bright. Rose… You have to meet her to really understand it. She just shines. She’s life and love and everything that makes the world worth it. I’d dare anybody to deny her anything, because she’s gorgeous. Young, sweet, innocent. I almost defiled that, and I’m so glad I refrained.
“I fell in love. It took a bit for me to realize it. I started to travel with her. Her, and the Doctor. Fell in love with him too, just a bit. And I knew this was what I’d been waiting for. Her, and him. Until I met them, I was a jaded conman, hurt and just struggling to find meaning in a fucked-up world. They changed everything. Made me want to be a hero. Taught me what it’s like to forget cowardice and just do something with my life. Showed me real beauty, in people, and in places, and in everything.”
“And one day, it ended. Our last adventure. A foe we couldn’t defeat; an enemy we couldn’t run from. We had to take them out, for the sake of the universe, but it meant sacrificing ourselves. The Doctor and I both knew it.” Jack slowly lets out a breath. “That was the day Jack Harkness died. My first death, my only real death. Terrible last words.
“But then Rose did it. Rose Tyler, the most ordinary girl in the world. Young and beautiful in so many ways, and I wanted to have her, but she was untouchable. Always. But she was just a shopgirl from the twenty-first century, and she did it. She did the impossible. She saved us all. And then she brought me back. Only, she was Rose, so very Rose, and I loved her, and she loved me, and we’d never so much as kissed, because the way we loved each other just didn’t work like that. It could have, but it didn’t. We thought we had all the time in the world. We were young and silly and thought things could last forever. But either way, Rose brought me to life, but she couldn’t control it, and overdid it, just a bit. Rose is why I’m here. My entire life I was waiting to meet her, because when I finally did, it meant my path was beginning. I owe everything I am to her. And I could hate her for it, because I’m a hero now, and it’s difficult, and I can’t escape it because I can’t die, not for long, and I can’t change because if I did it’d be denying everything that Rose stood for.
A short, poignant silence. “That’s Rose,” Jack finishes stupidly. “Satisfied?” he asks. He sounds hopeful, as if he’s waiting for Ianto to answer a question that is far more complex and meaningful.
“Seems like I should be jealous, but I’m not.”
“Why’s that?”
“First, I’m thankful to Rose. She’s the reason you are who you are, and I’m selfishly glad that you’re alive and here right now.”
Jack chuckles slightly and pulls Ianto closer to his chest, tickling the younger man’s ear with his breath.
“And second. You love Rose, and always will, but she’s gone now and will never know what a bloody great fuck you are. Sir.”
Jack openly laughs at that, taking the humor for what it is. “True.”
The silence that follows is comfortable. Jack has hooked his chin over Ianto’s shoulder, still holding him very close. He’s slightly and just a tad uncomfortably aroused, but sees no reason to break the simple timelessness of this moment by trying to fix that. Knowing that Ianto is thinking the same helps.
“You were happy, with her, and with the Doctor.”
Jack stretches his answer into a series of broken syllables, each with a different meaning of their own. “Yes.”
“You haven’t truly been happy since.”
“No,” Jack admits tightly. “But…”
He stretches his neck out from its comfortable resting place on Ianto’s shoulder, and kisses Ianto’s cheek, slowly, chastely, lingeringly. His lips brush and caress Ianto’s skin with the lightest of touches as he finishes his sentence. “This is pretty close.”
Ianto takes that for what it is as well. “I’m glad, Jack.”
“So am I.”
Jack settles again, and loosens his iron grip around Ianto’s chest. Inversely, the hold feels even closer than before. They could say more, but they’re afraid, and a little excited, and they have all the time in the world. It may only be a moment, a grain of sand, but they both know time’s just a bit trickier than that and this moment is happening everywhen at the same time, and will always be happening somewhen, even if that when is only in their memories and nowhen else. This moment is theirs.
Bathed in each other’s tacit warmth, they sleep.
:::
Welcome to Torchwood Three. We’re all a little messed up, but we’re a team. We’ve all been happy once and innocent, and we aren’t anymore, but we find solace in each other when we aren’t hunting down weevils and investigating mysterious artifacts. There’s a little bit of a kinship because we’re all broken, and none of us are terribly happy with the way our lives have gone. But we have each other, and a pet pterodon, and it works for us. We live for what we have, and find as near to happiness as we’re ever really going to have again. Time, ephemeral time, goes by. People change, situations change, but some things don’t. Hold on to what’s important.
Come on in. And seriously, don’t ever bring tulips. Ever. Myfanwy likes them. Thinks they’re food.
You’ll get used to it.
