m_findlow

Title: In deep trouble
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Ianto
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 846 words
Content notes: none
Author notes: Written for samuraiter's prompt "any, any, it's possible to survive for up to fourteen seconds in the vacuum of space" at fic_promptly
Summary: It's all about to unexpectedly end

Sometimes it was possible to know too much, he though despairingly. He'd read somewhere once that it was theoretically possible to survive for up to fourteen seconds in the vacuum of space. It wouldn't be the lack of oxygen that killed you, it wasn't even the radiation from the sun. It was the mere pressure exerted by the vacuum. Your blood would boil and evaporate, organs swell and explode inside your body, tongue inflating and sealing off your airways, eyeballs popping like grapes crushed underfoot. Fourteen seconds of the purest physical agony imaginable, and then that was it. And even then it was just a theory.

He wished he could remember the title of the book now, and perhaps the author. It would give him something to do other than contemplating his fate. It was going to take one hell of a distraction to stop those thoughts.

How the hell had he ended up here in the first place? He knew the answer of course. It wasn't bad enough that he let Jack convince him to run headlong into reckless adventures, but now he had to contend with The Doctor as well, who seemed doubly skilled in landing them all in very hot water on a regular basis.

For the most part he loved it. He loved being with Jack and seeing the universe and all of its wondrous glory. He loved meeting new people and going new places, even though he'd never been the social type. Somehow Jack brought out in him a confidence of spirit he hadn't known he had.

And as for the danger and the excitement? He couldn't get enough of it. Quiet days were nice, but the adrenalin rush from the rest was addictive. It was stupid and crazy and mind blowing and thrilling. How could he have ever gone back to his old life, knowing this was out here waiting for him?

And Jack, he was happier than he'd ever been in his entire life. He finally had everything he wanted in life, his beautiful, clever, funny, and brave lover, and the enigmatic, completely bonkers Doctor and his TARDIS. He never wanted any of that to end.

But now he would have almost yearned for his pile of paperwork back in Cardiff, of mucking out weevil cells and cleaning up after his coworkers. It seemed life a lifetime ago now.

The tiny escape shuttle rattled violently around him, solar winds battering it from every angle. It wasn't going to be able to withstand another onslaught after this one, already sweltering inside the impossibly claustrophobic space. This was it.

In truth, he should have died three hours ago on the ship with everyone else. He'd volunteered to stay behind and help the crew whilst Jack and The Doctor followed after their saboteur. Then it all went wrong. The ship's hull had breached, too damaged repair, and their support vessel too far away to rescue them before they ran out of air. That was okay. The Doctor and Jack would be back before then, and could take all of the crew back to safety in the TARDIS.

Before any of those possibilities could occur, a bomb went off in the main cabin. It must have been left on a timer delay by the saboteur. The explosion sent him flying into the console and knocked him out cold. The next thing he knew he was waking up in the tiny shuttle, alone. There was room enough for two or three people at best. He forced himself up and to look out the tiny porthole window. Outside was dark, but he could see fragments of metal floating by. Remnants of the ship. A video recording on board showed him the moment when the ship had exploded. A tiny flash of fire before the oxygen was spent and the shattered remains cast across the blackness of space. He didn't know who had dragged him to the shuttle or why. They didn't owe him anything, and they had more important things to do than save the life of one man, whilst their ship was burning.

And now they were all gone. Blasted into tiny pieces. He hoped for the sake of their terrorist, that Jack and The Doctor didn't find him. He wanted nothing more than to avenge the deaths of all those people he'd barely known, regardless of The Doctor's stance on violence. Lucky for their killer that chance would never come. He wouldn't survive to mete out justice. There was no resurrection, no regeneration for him. Just plain old ordinary mortal death.

It was so hot inside now. Not long to go. He removed his tie completely, and rolled up his shirt sleeves. Perhaps he could go to sleep and dream of being with Jack one last time. He hadn't given up all hope that they'd return in time to find him, but the odds were looking very slim.

The hull rattled again and Ianto closed his eyes. If he had just fourteen seconds left, he was going to spend them thinking about Jack.