Slashthedrabble Challenge 433 - Going up in smoke

[m_findlow]

Title: Going up in smoke
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Jack, Ianto
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 500 words
Content notes: none
Author notes: Written for Challenge 433 - Thoughtful or thoughtless at slashthedrabble
Summary: Thoughfulness and thoughtlessness collide despite best intentions

Jack gently prised open the box and pulled out the polaroid photo, sighing wistfully at it. He still missed them terribly, but it felt wrong to keep their memories locked away in a box where no one could see them, much like their bodies, locked away in the morgue dozens of floors below, buried and forgotten. They deserved to be remembered for being brave and heroic, funny and clever and kind, and the closest thing he could call family.

It wasn't the world's greatest picture, having been taken in haste by a passing entertainer one night when they'd been out for dinner enjoying the unusually balmy weather, eating al fresco at one of the many restaurants by the bay. Still, it was the only photo he had of the team, all of them, Tosh and Owen included. Gwen had one of the pair of them tacked to the bottom of her computer, and he saw the way Ianto's gaze stopped on it each and every time he went by. Resolved, he would go and buy a frame and give the photo to Ianto as a gift.

There was a knock at the door.

'Rift alert. Splott again, and something about more missing fridges,' Ianto reported.

What was it with those damn fridges? Jack thought, shoving the photo in his shirt pocket.

'Okay let's go.'

It was many hours later when they finally stumbled back in. They didn't find any missing fridges, but they did find some very hostile aliens. Ones who didn't hesitate in showing Jack their guns, several times. His clothes were soaked in blood, his and the aliens. Another set beyond saving, he thought glumly, handing them to Ianto, who muttered 'another lot for the incinerator,' before leaving to shower and redress.

It wasn't until later, as he was sipping coffee and happily closing  his report on the incident that he remembered what he'd been doing beforehand. He reached into his pocket for the photo, then remembered he'd changed clothes. It was in his old clothes. The ones destined for incineration.

Bolting downstairs he ran into Ianto coming back upstairs.

'Did you retrieve it?'

'Retrieve what?'

'The photo.'

'What photo?'

'Did you check the pockets before you incinerated my clothes?'

Ianto looked at him blankly. He was sure he'd checked the pockets. He always checked the pockets. So why couldn't he remember doing it? The last few months had been so hectic, he felt like he was on autopilot most of the time.

'I don't remember. I guess I mustn't have.'

'Ianto!' Jack cried. 'How could you be so thoughtless?'

'I'm sorry! I'm so tired! I don't know how we can keep going like this!'

He saw the distraught look on Ianto's face and pulled him into a hug. The deaths had been hard on all of them.

'Doesn't matter. It's not important.'

What was a photo anyway? A picture couldn't give you comfort or bring them back. What mattered was that they remembered them in their hearts.

Comments

[love-jackianto.livejournal.com]

That was great!

[m-findlow.livejournal.com]

Thank you!

[bk_forever]

*wibble* That's so heartbreaking, a precious memento gon because they're so overworked. Better that Jack should have left it locked away. Still, he's right, a photo can't replace what they've lost =(