Torchwood: Fanfic: Hurting alone

[m_findlow]

Title: Hurting alone
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Jack, Ianto
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 1,221 words
Content notes: none
Author notes: Inspired by Challenge 446 - Emotion(al) at slashthedrabble
Summary: Not everyone grieves in the same way.

Nothing had been the same since they'd lost Tosh and Owen, and Jack was beginning to wonder if anything ever would. It was as if more than just the two of them had died that day. Everything felt broken and wrong, like he had all the pieces, but couldn't fathom a way to stitch them back together, and that included his relationship with Ianto.

Jack would try teasing Ianto, but he wasn't in the mood. Similarly, Ianto would say something witty, but his cleverness fell flat. They were never far apart, with work keeping them endlessly busy, but it was most noticeable at night that something had shifted and changed. They still had sex, and it was passionate and hungry and bruising, but afterwards they simply crawled under the covers without a word spoken, until the alarm clock or rift alert would summon them back from bed. The coexisted, but that was about it, emotionally passing each other by like ships in the night.

It was late, and they were still working. The work never ended anymore. It never had, but at least in times before their day had been broken up by communal chatter, banter and interaction with other members of the team. Now, they barely had time just for getting everything done and the hub had descended into something akin to silence

Jack was tired. There were too many long days stretching and melding into one another. He'd lost track of them. Days, weeks, how long had it been? He wasn't sure what day it was, or even the year. He leaned his elbows wearily onto the desk in front of him.

The folder slipped under his nose almost without his noticing. It was subtle, but with an implied motion that he should in fact take notice.

'I'll do it tomorrow,' he replied, head still in his hands.

'You'll do it tonight,' Ianto replied. 'It's due with the Home Office first thing tomorrow morning.'

'Don't tell me what to do.'

'Then don't get upset at me that you haven't done your job,' he sniped back.

'Upset?' Jack spat. 'Upset?' he repeated again, louder. 'You think I'm upset about a report? Why don't you get your priorities right about what should upset you.'

'Would you prefer I sit here and wallow about the futility of death?' Ianto asked, trying to stay calm in the face of Jack's sudden temper.

'It'd make for a nice change,' Jack seethed. 'At least then I'd know I wasn't dating an emotionless robot.'

Ianto raised his eyebrows at Jack. He hadn't wanted to get into it with Jack, but Jack wasn't giving him much of an out. When he got like this, there was no escaping it until Jack got whatever it was annoying him out of his system. The only question was would he survive Jack's onslaught?

'Well, someone around here has to keep their head,' Ianto replied. 'Torchwood doesn't run itself. We can't all sit here and cry into our teacups.'

Ianto's poor choice of words made something inside Jack finally snap, and it had nothing to do with the insinuation that he was failing them as leader.

'Sorry if the rest of us are finding it a little difficult,' Jack snarked. 'We can't all be perfect like you and just get on with things as if nothing ever happened. Would you like me to tell Gwen she's not allowed to cry anymore because we've got a job to do? Do you even know how to cry?'

Jack was so angry at him and his stupid stoic expression. He hadn't seen Ianto shed even one tear since it had happened, not even at the funeral service. Jack couldn't stop his own, creeping up on him when he least expected it. Every time he thought he was turning a corner, some little thing would remind him of Tosh or Owen, and they'd start all over again. He'd cried more in the last few weeks than he could remember doing so in years. And all the while, Ianto just stood there with that blank expression, going about his day, the little frown that he always had, like he was in deep thought and concerned, all at the same time, but which never changed. It was a mask of utter indifference to the pain Jack and Gwen were living through, and Jack hated him for it.

Ianto slapped him. He didn't even think before he did it. It was an equal repsonse to Jack's words, which felt every bit like a slap in the face. He was so infuriated by Jack's accusations. That Jack thought him uncaring or indifferent only upset him even more. It was all he could do to hold it together most days, unable to put into words what he was feeling, and Jack had the gumption to stand there and say that he wasn't sufficiently upset.

He hated it, hated that he'd lost two of his best and only friends in the whole world. He hated the job. He hated waking up every morning and having to get up and carry on, knowing that there was no telling when death might come for him or Gwen. Only Jack would survive through it all. Jack could take all the risks he liked and he'd still come out the other side. The rest of them were going to die horrible, probably painful deaths, and Jack had the nerve to suggest it didn't upset him.

Would it have made Jack happier if he was a complete blubbering mess, incapable of getting out of bed in the morning? Wouldn't he just tell Ianto to buck up, and that he had to go on. What had happened to all that "the end is where we begin from" talk? Wasn't that what he was trying to do? He knew the others were struggling, but he was trying to set aside his own feelings to be strong for them. If they all collapsed and gave up, then who knew what would happen. He wanted to grieve too, to let the tears flow unabashed and scream at the unfairness of it all, but there just weren't enough people here to do what needed to be done for him to be able to take a step back and let someone else take over. Someone had to keep the home fires burning, and unfortunately it looked like he'd be the one to have to do it.

Jack still looked a bit stunned that Ianto had struck him, but before he could say anything, or hit back himself, Ianto turned and stormed out of Jack's office. He didn't want to hear what Jack had to say, and he didn't want to parry any more hurtful words with him either, or have Jack stand over him and tell how it was going to be. Hopefully his dramatic exit would be proof enough that he felt plenty.

Spending the night alone in his flat, the one he'd practically abandoned to live at the hub with Jack, was likely to bring plenty of fresh tears. He'd never felt so alone in the world as he did right now, but even though he finally had a moment alone to let it all go, he felt so dead inside that he couldn't even find the tears to cry.

Comments

[bk_forever]

Ooooooh! I want to comfort Ianto, and slap Jack myself! I know he's grieving, but Ianto is trying his best to be strong for the other two so they CAN grieve, while he holds all his pain inside because there's so much that needs doing and they can't afford for all three of them to be wallowing. When is it going to be Ianto's turn to mourn his friends? =(