Fandomweekly Challenge 12 - Out of time

[m_findlow]

Title: Out of time
Fandom: Torchwood
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 1,000 words
Content notes: PG. Spoilers for CoE
Author notes: Written for Challenge 12 - Bad day at fandomweekly
Summary: Jack is finally about to find out how it all ends.

Jack tried to quell the rising sense of panic. Would that it were the only thing inside him.

There was a bomb in his stomach. A big one at that, though for once he didn't have a cheeky, innuendo-laced comment about size. How could he not know? He should be able to feel it. All he could feel was the way time was very quickly running out.

Talk about a bad day. A slightly botched operation to extract an alien parasite from its now dead host, a spat with his lover, forced to speak with lowly sergeants at UNIT, lured into a trap at the hospital that had ended in his death and that of his potential new recruit, and now this, a bomb planted inside him that was set to destroy everything within a one mile radius. On another day and in different circumstances he might laugh at his own misfortune, but right now, everything precious to him was in danger.

He didn't have time to think about what would happen to the hub, whether they'd be able to repair it, or if Gwen would be far enough away to survive and return to pick up the pieces. There was only time enough for one thought. Ianto.

He couldn't understand his earlier anger at Ianto. It was stupid. He shouldn't have snapped at him for being excited that people were referring to them as a couple. Their being together was nothing new, but having it shoved in his face like they'd crossed some invisible line, had grated on him for reasons unknown

All the way back to the hub he'd kept his thoughts to himself. Presumably Ianto thought he was mulling over the rumours of bodies going missing at the hospital. NHS or not, Jack couldn't resist a mystery and this one had been dropped in his lap by the young doctor they'd met at the hospital - the one who rather impressed Jack, hardly at all perturbed at coming face to face with an alien being surgically removed from his patient, and observant enough to spot that there was more going on between him and Ianto than just the friendly neighbour story they'd touted. Perhaps that was what annoyed Jack; the fact that a total stranger could see what Ianto apparently couldn't.

In the car park he watched as Ianto clutched the plastic container with the hitchhiker alien, the laser saw resting on top. Jack grabbed it before it could roll off on the pretense of being helpful. Ianto snatched it back from his hand before he knew what was what.

'Hey! I needed that!'

'What for?' Ianto challenged. Got a few more hitchhikers you need cutting out of corpses? Planning on leaving me behind at the hub whilst you go and be all heroic, pinning for you like I'm your wife?'

Jack rolled his eyes. Not this again. 'You'd make a lovely wife,' he retorted. 'As if I'd leave you behind.'

'You make me sound more like a trophy.'

Jack smirked. 'If the shoe fits. Now, can I have it back?'

'What do you want it for, anyway?'

'It comes in handy. Like a pocketknife.'

Ianto sighed. 'Until you accidentally set it off. I know what you're like. One second we're pressed up against the wall, your tongue down my throat and then...'

Jack grinned salaciously. 'Yes? And then?'

Ianto heaved open the door to the inner hub. 'You are going to get us killed.'

'No, you get killed, not me. You'd die like a dog. Like an ugly dog.'

He cringed now at the words. What the hell had been wrong with him to make him say such a thing? Death, unless it was Jack's, was not a topic they discussed. Not ever.

Now he was being forced to confront it head on.

He kept his eyes fixed on the invisible lift as it continued its agonising ascent. He didn't want to look at the computer screens all around him, ticking down to zero, measuring his remaining existence in seconds rather than the millennia he thought he'd have. He didn't want that to be the last thing he saw. Rather, he wanted to watch his lover slowly drift away to safety, praying that there were still seconds enough left on the clock. His own demise was one thing, but he couldn't bear the thought that he might end up killing the one person he loved more than anything. A hurried kiss hadn't been enough. He should have told Ianto how much he was loved. Instead the words he'd said made him hiccup a sob. "I'll come back. I always do."

He'd been surprised at just how convincing they'd sounded, and for a moment he almost believed them, but he knew better. He'd died a thousand times in every way imaginable, and he'd always come back, but not this time. It didn't take a genius to know that being blown into a million pieces was beyond even him. All those years that by rights he shouldn't have had, and this was how it was going to end. Someone who hated him enough had finally devised a way to destroy him and Torchwood all in one fell swoop.

There was no afterlife, he knew that. There'd be no time for pondering over who wanted him dead. There'd be no teasing Gwen as she swelled up like a balloon, pregnant with the child he supposed he'd known was always just a matter of time. There wouldn't even be time to wonder what Ianto would do with his life when Torchwood was gone, or to hope that he'd move on and find happiness. There was no time at all. This was it.

He heard the trap door above the invisible lift hiss open, revealing the starry night sky overhead as it promised safety for one of them. Would it be time enough? He had to hope. In the millisecond before the countdown clock hit zero, hope was all he had left.