m_findlow

Title: Towards home
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters/Pairings: Jack
Word Count: 500 words
Rating: PG
Notes: Written for Challenge 38 - Beacon at anythingdrabble
Summary: Jack has something intangible guiding him home.

Jack could feel the swell of the ocean growing calmer beneath him, the further the boat sailed. Like his own feelings, it grew less and less turbulent the more distance they put between themselves and the island he despised so much. It seemed impossible that one one place could bring so much sadness and heartache but no matter how many times he came there, and no how much work he put into the place, it never seemed to get any better, nor any easier.

He breathed in the sea air, filling his lungs with it. It was so much better out here on the open ocean, rather than the stifling underground bunker of a facility that crushed him with its weight, making him feel like he couldn't breathe. He loved being out on the ocean. It was just a shame that the only time he got out here was because he had to go to Flat Holm. Perhaps next time he would just keep sailing right past it and keep going, as far out into open water as it was possible and lose himself there, away from all the cares and the responsibilities that dragged him down. He knew he wouldn't, but it was a nice thought.

Finally he spotted the tiny lights off on the distant horizon. Those lights were such a relief, the city he called home slowly twinkling into view. It was a beautiful sight, red and white and orange, glittering with possibilities, as far from the horrors of that accursed island as he could get. He didn't need a lighthouse to find his way back, only the familiar city skyline. He knew every inch of that coast, even in the darkness of night, from the fairgrounds of Barry Island to the pungent docks of Tiger Bay. It was the barrage that shone brightest, white lights creating a safe haven around the bay. Like the waters within, he'd feel safer once he was beyond their walls. No one else knew what was out there, the rift, Flat Holm, any of it. Only him.

He steered the boat carefully through the barrage, opening up the throttle and heading straight for the docks. Soon he'd be home again and able to forget all of this for a little while, until the next time the rift made him face up to the reality. It was never long enough between visits for his liking.

He slowed the motor, letting it sidle up to the dock, tossing the heavy rope over the bollard, tethering it in place. As he looked up, a small figure walked down the pier towards him. He knew that outline anywhere and he knew it was Ianto, waiting for him. It was better than any lighthouse guiding him home, stepping closer and wrapping his arms around him. That warm embrace was the only thing he needed. Ianto was that one beacon of hope that kept him coming home to fight another day, no matter how much it hurt.