Torchwood: Fanfic: Missed

[m_findlow]

Title: Missed
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Jack, Torchwood team
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 1,314 words
Content notes: none
Author notes: Written for m_findlow's prompt "Any, any, getting a handshake when they wanted a kiss" at fic_promptly
Summary: Jack's going to need a better welcome wagon

Jack half expected that when he took on Abbadon that he might not come back, and he was remarkably okay with that. He'd lived longer than anyone he'd ever known, and certainly had more adventures than anyone else, except perhaps The Doctor.

He was the whole reason Jack was like this in the first place, he was fairly certain of that, at least. The only disappointment would be that he'd never get the chance to ask The Doctor exactly what had happened to him. In the end he supposed it didn't matter much if he was going to die now anyway. Over a hundred years unable to die and now he finally would. It was just one of those things that he'd always wonder about in the afterlife, assuming there was one.

He'd had more than enough life, strictly speaking, though he hadn't done nearly as much as with it as he could have. Perhaps this one last thing might make up for all the good deeds he should have done, and make up for a few of the bad things he'd done as well. He hadn't really done anything else redeeming in his life. He had no family - at least none that cared to know him - no friends, unless you counted the people he worked with, and nothing he could call his legacy. In essence, there was no one who was going to miss him when he was gone. That should have been a small comfort.

Then he remembered his team. Would they grieve him when he was gone, or was he just their boss and nothing more? They had shot him after all. Owen was pissed off at him because Dianne had left, and he hadn't done anything to prevent it; Gwen was distraught at losing Rhys, murdered by Bilis Manger who was out to destroy Jack; Ianto, who had told him in no uncertain terms that he'd have used Emergency Protocol One to open the rift to fix things, after having failed to stop Owen opening it through first time, though Jack still wasn't sure if it wasn't all a ruse just to get him back; and Tosh, who was just trying to keep the peace as always, and the one who'd given them everything they needed to open the rift.

Despite all that, he'd found it in himself to forgive them. They were only human after all, and they didn't have his considerably broader experience with rifts and time travel, knowing just how dangerous it was to open the rift, and how even more dangerous it was to open it again to try and fix everything. They wanted to do the right thing, even though they'd ended up doing the wrong thing. Perhaps they would miss him after all, regretting what they'd done. The more he thought about it, as he was crumpled on the ground in agony, Abbadon sucking the life from him like flaying the very skin from his bones, the more he realised that he wished he'd had time to tell them he forgave them, and how much he'd actually come to care for them. Perhaps his final act would be evidence enough. They'd get to keep on living, even if he couldn't. What use did he have for more years of purposeless life, anyway?

Coming back wasn't quite what he expected. It was slow; more like a hazy dream than the harsh nightmare that usually jolted him back into existence. He was so cold, and his mind was all fuzzy, unable to quite connect to any coherent thoughts, eyelids heavy as he tried to figure out where he was. Maybe this wasn't life. Maybe this was that afterlife he'd always wondered about. Then he'd felt a slight warmth to his hand, followed by another feathery touch to his face. It was delicate and felt filled with sorrow, and a familiar voice kept drifting in and out of his mind, though he couldn't quite place it for a long while.

'Let him go, Gwen,' he heard a second voice say. Yes, that's the voice he could hear; it's Gwen. This can't be the afterlife, he just had to try a little harder. There's another soft touch and a gentle kiss, before he hears the footsteps disappearing away from him.

No, don't go.

'Thank you,' he manages to say, voice hoarse and raspy. The footsteps return and finally he breaks through the darkness and sees the light above him, Gwen's face there just moments afterwards, smiling down at him. Yes, he's back. It's never felt so good to be back.

He's still feeling a little weary, cold and not quite himself, but Gwen is hurrying him to get dressed so that she can share the good news.

'I always knew you'd come back,' she says, watching him slowly button up his shirt, fingertips still a bit numb and tingly, fumbling to find the holes. She stands in front of him and fixes his collar, making sure it's just right, smiling at him the whole time. She never gives up on anything, and it's one of the things he loves most about her.

He's always enjoyed making a grand entrance, but for once it's a subdued feeling. Making a splash just doesn't feel right anymore, so instead he lets her lead him back up to the main level of the hub, their hands intertwined. He should feel like celebrating his comeback from death, but perhaps Gwen's own reaction won't be representative of the rest of them.

Tosh spots them first, going white as a sheet before running over to wrap him up in a hug. It takes him a little by surprise, but the hug feels so good, and he can already feel some of the old him returning. Then he spots Ianto who looks a bit ashen himself. Oh, now there was one thing he would really regret having died for. Things between them had been tentative at first, but he was really beginning to develop quite strong feelings for the handsome young Welshman. And judging by the look on his face, he'd had a hard time coming to grips with Jack being gone if he wasn't mistaken. If a gentle touch from Gwen had brought him back, and a hug from Tosh had warmed him up, being close to Ianto would surely make him feel alive again.

The approach was hesitant and coy, and Ianto put out a hand towards him. A handshake? After everything they'd been through, and all he was going to get was a handshake, and a nervous one at that? No way. He grabbed Ianto full force and hugged him tight, breathing him in, and feeling Ianto's arms creep up against his back, finally returning his embrace. Gods that felt good, but not as good as it could. He had Ianto right where he wanted him now, pulling back slightly and cupping Ianto's cheek before plundering his mouth.

The rush of life filled him with a radiant light, and even more so when he finally felt Ianto give in, kissing him back. How had he ever thought that a handshake would suffice when he could have all of Jack right here and now? He could have lost himself for an eternity in that kiss. They'd kissed before, but nothing like this. Nothing that rocked Jack's world off its axis and made him feel so alive. Ianto should have done this days ago, resurrecting him from death's icy grip, and if it wasn't for the fact that he still had to face Owen, he would have kept going for days. For now, it would have to be enough. There'd be plenty of opportunity afterwards for the two of them to make up for lost time. Jack had a lot of years left ahead of him, and right now, he wasn't planning on going anywhere.

Comments

[bk_forever]

Oh, that last line! Famous last words, just hours from now he'll be gone, off with the Doctor *sigh* The Doctor's timing has always sucked.