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m_findlowTitle: The eve of war
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Jack, Ianto
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 1,000 words
Content notes: None
Author notes: Written for Challenge 212 - Hope at![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fandomweekly
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Jack, Ianto
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 1,000 words
Content notes: None
Author notes: Written for Challenge 212 - Hope at
fandomweeklySummary: Tonight is the last night before the war comes to Torchwood.
‘Come home with me tonight,’ Ianto implored, hands still clutching Jack's face, not more than a few inches from the lips he'd plundered for what felt like an hour. He'd gone from being anxious about whether Jack took them seriously or if Ianto was just a convenience for a man trapped in a time that wasn't his, to a man who didn't care. Jack was here and now and that was all that mattered. It didn't hurt either that Jack wanted to be here, if for no other reason than he'd fallen in love unexpectedly and had no intention of giving that up just for the sake of the dream of returning to a time in which he belonged, some three thousand years into the future.
Jack grasped one of those hands on his face and pulled it away. ‘I can't,’ he whispered, feeling all of the disappointment in his words etched on Ianto’s face. ‘I need to be here in case things deteriorate.’ That was the cost of being the person who had to make the hard calls.
And they could deteriorate. Time was fracturing and splintering between 1917 and the present on account of a man Torchwood had stolen from his own timeline and kept frozen in stasis for just the right moment to wake him up to fix the problem. Tommy Brockless had gone from being a youthful soldier of war to a panacea for the existence of time itself.
‘You think the fractures could spread beyond St Teilo’s hospital that quickly?’ Ianto asked.
‘It's possible,’ Jack conceded. For now the fractures were limited to the place Tommy had been abducted from ninety years ago, where he'd been recuperating from injuries after being sent back from the Western Front, but time was fragile and waiting until the morning might be too late to fix things, setting the two timelines firmly back where they belonged. Just for this one night though, Jack hoped, Tommy might be able to spend his one night of freedom with the woman who'd become besotted with him.
It had been five years that Toshiko had worked with Jack and five individual days on which they’d woken Tommy from his stasis in order to confirm he was still okay. Five days in which they’d developed something deeper that could never be more than a few beers and a game of pool, or maybe a nice meal, before Tommy would be put back to sleep again for another year. Until today when the time-sealed orders that accompanied Tommy’s frozen body released themselves, making this year the moment he was needed. No more beers, no more games of pool. Just one night in which they might indulge in something more. Didn't they deserve some little piece of happiness, however brief? After tomorrow they'd never see one another again. Tommy would be back in 1917 and Toshiko would carry on her life here at Torchwood in 2008. It was a love that should never have happened, much like the one he might have described between himself and his own young lover.
‘Then I'll stay with you,’ Ianto replied, leaning close to kiss his cheek once more. And so they'd compromised, exchanging Jack's usual cramped sleeping quarters for one of the short stay accommodation rooms Torchwood kept for its refugees, sparsely furnished but comfortable.
Jack woke in a tangle of limbs, rolling his head sideways to take in the greenish glow of the clock radio as it read 5:12am. Still too early to get up, but too late to change what had to happen. He'd told Tosh to bring Tommy back at nine and they'd go to the hospital from there. Tommy would take the rift key, step through one of the fractures, back into 1917, and activate the key and that would seal the gap between their two times, locking them back in their rightful places. It sounded simple but for the fact that Jack knew it was a death sentence for Tommy. He'd be sent back to the front, the memories of his passage through into the future erased. Then, when the shellshock became too much, he'd be executed for desertion. It was all there in black and white in Tommy’s military personnel file.
Ianto stirred beside him, feeling the mounting tension in Jack's body as he contemplated sending a soldier to his death. ‘It'll be okay,’ Ianto murmured.
‘We can't know for sure.’
‘If it wasn't, wouldn't the message from 1917 not have made it here?’
Jack wished it were that easy. ‘Very few things in time are fixed. What has brought us to the here and now can change.’
Today could be their last day like this, Jack thought, but didn't say it out aloud. Just as it was certain for Toshiko and Tommy, the same might be true for them. Perhaps that was why Jack had let Ianto stay, why they'd made love when they should have been sleeping, or monitoring the growing time fractures.
If they failed to fix the fracture then they could end up permanently stuck in 1917. Jack would be okay. He could lie low if he needed to, but the others wouldn't be so lucky. He could get them papers to establish who they were. Jack Harkness in 1917 could arrange it if he only reached out, risking crossing his own timeline, but then what? Ianto was young, scarcely older than Tommy. He'd be automatically sent to the front to fight along with all the young men. Ianto was tough, but also a gentle soul. Jack feared how long he might survive the shelling and the bullets and the explosions of mud and shrapnel. It was likely a death sentence. Bad enough that they wouldn't be together, but knowing that was all that lay in store for them was worse.
Ianto snuggled tighter around Jack's body. ‘Then we’ll just have to hope that everything goes to plan.’
Jack squeezed him close. Yes, hope was all they had.
‘Come home with me tonight,’ Ianto implored, hands still clutching Jack's face, not more than a few inches from the lips he'd plundered for what felt like an hour. He'd gone from being anxious about whether Jack took them seriously or if Ianto was just a convenience for a man trapped in a time that wasn't his, to a man who didn't care. Jack was here and now and that was all that mattered. It didn't hurt either that Jack wanted to be here, if for no other reason than he'd fallen in love unexpectedly and had no intention of giving that up just for the sake of the dream of returning to a time in which he belonged, some three thousand years into the future.
Jack grasped one of those hands on his face and pulled it away. ‘I can't,’ he whispered, feeling all of the disappointment in his words etched on Ianto’s face. ‘I need to be here in case things deteriorate.’ That was the cost of being the person who had to make the hard calls.
And they could deteriorate. Time was fracturing and splintering between 1917 and the present on account of a man Torchwood had stolen from his own timeline and kept frozen in stasis for just the right moment to wake him up to fix the problem. Tommy Brockless had gone from being a youthful soldier of war to a panacea for the existence of time itself.
‘You think the fractures could spread beyond St Teilo’s hospital that quickly?’ Ianto asked.
‘It's possible,’ Jack conceded. For now the fractures were limited to the place Tommy had been abducted from ninety years ago, where he'd been recuperating from injuries after being sent back from the Western Front, but time was fragile and waiting until the morning might be too late to fix things, setting the two timelines firmly back where they belonged. Just for this one night though, Jack hoped, Tommy might be able to spend his one night of freedom with the woman who'd become besotted with him.
It had been five years that Toshiko had worked with Jack and five individual days on which they’d woken Tommy from his stasis in order to confirm he was still okay. Five days in which they’d developed something deeper that could never be more than a few beers and a game of pool, or maybe a nice meal, before Tommy would be put back to sleep again for another year. Until today when the time-sealed orders that accompanied Tommy’s frozen body released themselves, making this year the moment he was needed. No more beers, no more games of pool. Just one night in which they might indulge in something more. Didn't they deserve some little piece of happiness, however brief? After tomorrow they'd never see one another again. Tommy would be back in 1917 and Toshiko would carry on her life here at Torchwood in 2008. It was a love that should never have happened, much like the one he might have described between himself and his own young lover.
‘Then I'll stay with you,’ Ianto replied, leaning close to kiss his cheek once more. And so they'd compromised, exchanging Jack's usual cramped sleeping quarters for one of the short stay accommodation rooms Torchwood kept for its refugees, sparsely furnished but comfortable.
Jack woke in a tangle of limbs, rolling his head sideways to take in the greenish glow of the clock radio as it read 5:12am. Still too early to get up, but too late to change what had to happen. He'd told Tosh to bring Tommy back at nine and they'd go to the hospital from there. Tommy would take the rift key, step through one of the fractures, back into 1917, and activate the key and that would seal the gap between their two times, locking them back in their rightful places. It sounded simple but for the fact that Jack knew it was a death sentence for Tommy. He'd be sent back to the front, the memories of his passage through into the future erased. Then, when the shellshock became too much, he'd be executed for desertion. It was all there in black and white in Tommy’s military personnel file.
Ianto stirred beside him, feeling the mounting tension in Jack's body as he contemplated sending a soldier to his death. ‘It'll be okay,’ Ianto murmured.
‘We can't know for sure.’
‘If it wasn't, wouldn't the message from 1917 not have made it here?’
Jack wished it were that easy. ‘Very few things in time are fixed. What has brought us to the here and now can change.’
Today could be their last day like this, Jack thought, but didn't say it out aloud. Just as it was certain for Toshiko and Tommy, the same might be true for them. Perhaps that was why Jack had let Ianto stay, why they'd made love when they should have been sleeping, or monitoring the growing time fractures.
If they failed to fix the fracture then they could end up permanently stuck in 1917. Jack would be okay. He could lie low if he needed to, but the others wouldn't be so lucky. He could get them papers to establish who they were. Jack Harkness in 1917 could arrange it if he only reached out, risking crossing his own timeline, but then what? Ianto was young, scarcely older than Tommy. He'd be automatically sent to the front to fight along with all the young men. Ianto was tough, but also a gentle soul. Jack feared how long he might survive the shelling and the bullets and the explosions of mud and shrapnel. It was likely a death sentence. Bad enough that they wouldn't be together, but knowing that was all that lay in store for them was worse.
Ianto snuggled tighter around Jack's body. ‘Then we’ll just have to hope that everything goes to plan.’
Jack squeezed him close. Yes, hope was all they had.
