m_findlow

Title: Keeping oneself company
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Ianto
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 855 words
Content notes: none
Author notes: Written for badly_knitted's prompt "Torchwood, Ianto, he feels Jack's absence most after the others go home" at fic_promptly
Summary: Talking to yourself is the first sign of madness. Talking to someone else...

'Night, Ianto,' Tosh called out, shouldering her bag and making to leave.

'Night, Tosh,' he replied, keeping his smile in place as he reached across to take her empty mug. As soon as the cogwheel door rumbled shut after her, he let out a sigh.

'Just you and me now, Jack,' he said. Only there was no reply. Just like every night for the past four months. Jack wasn't here.

If talking to yourself was the first sign of madness, then where was he supposed to rank talking to someone who wasn't even there?

He collected the handles of two more mugs and walked them to the kitchen, dumping them in the sink with the other collected dishes, setting the water running. He began soaping them up, rubbing down the sides of the smooth ceramic with his hands, ignoring the rubber gloves in the cupboard underneath the sink. There was something cathartic about rinsing them by hand, putting the day's collective events into some semblance of order in his head.

'What a day, huh?' Jack said, leaning back against the bench, watching him.

'We got lucky,' Ianto said aloud. 'None of us knew how dangerous that thing was.' You would have known, he didn't add. He looked across but as expected, there was no one standing there. He'd disappeared again. Somehow he knew that Ianto's next question would be "why did you leave?", followed by "are you coming back?". Neither Ianto nor his subconscious had an answer for that, so they remained unanswered for another night.

He dried the mugs and plates, setting them in the cupboard. They clattered loudly, or at least it seemed loud in the emptiness of the hub. The hub was never really silent. There were a hundred different sounds: the whirr of computer equipment, the trickle of water slipping down the water tower into the pool at its base, the general creak and groan of shifting metal gangways, rustling sounds as Myfanwy made herself comfortable in her nest high above, and a small constant clicking sound whose origin was a complete mystery.

The hub was like a sleeping beast, always alive to various degrees. You either got used to the nightly noises or you went mad. For Ianto it was better than the crushing silence that's Jack's absence had left. Like all the other sounds the hub made, Jack had played his part, adding to the overall hum and buzz of the place. It was those noises that were most noticeably absent. It reminded him that something was missing, even when he thought that he might forget, even just for a few seconds.

He folded the tea towel and set it on the bench. Walking back from the kitchenette and past the desk, he did a quick check of things, finding nothing else out of place. He sat down on the sofa and leaned back, at a loss what else to do.

The hub had become his somehow, as if he'd inherited it by Jack leaving. He wasn't their leader by any stretch of the imagination, but after everyone else went home at night, it was as if he'd been left in charge, whilst they returned to their normal lives for a few hours before it all began again. Being here now, he could feel the weight of all that responsibility crushing down on him. Was this how Jack felt all the time? Was this why he'd left?

He leant his head back against the back of the cushion. He could almost feel Jack's arm slip around his shoulder, fingers tracing along his neck and up into his hair, tickling and massaging all at the same time.

'Should be a quiet one tonight,' he heard Jack say.

'You only know that because I just checked the rift predictor program Tosh has been working on.'

'She's so clever.'

'Cleverer than me. I'm here thinking I'm actually talking to someone who isn't here.'

He knew for certain Jack wasn't there. It wasn't some alien technology, or a hallucinogenic. It was just what happened when Ianto was left here all alone, missing Jack more than he could bear to admit. Owen would probably diagnose him with having a mental breakdown. He was fine, though. Well, as fine as could be expected. The days were busy enough that he barely had time to think on it. The only reminders were when one of them said "Jack would know what it is", or "where's Jack when you need him?". Or when there were leftovers because Ianto was still in the habit of ordering for five and not four, and then not even having appetite enough for his share. Each of them was like a tiny pinprick compared to the empty feeling when there was no one else around to provide a distraction. The only thing that could cure him would be for Jack to come back.

'When are you coming back?' he asked, using the word "when", and not "if". But there was no reply because there was no one there. Just him and the hub as it clicked and whirred and creaked all around him.