Thank you everyone for your well wishes. Doing okay. Still pretty much need to stay off my feet. My mother's flying in to help out so hopefully, things will get back on track.
Like my twins' diet. -lol-
Author: d8rkmessngr
Pairing: Jack/OMC, Jack/?, Jack/Ianto eventually, het and slash
Rating: NC-17
Summary: He left Jack on the game station. Abandoned. But then…he came back…different. An AU look on what happens if things happened differently. Doctor Who 'verse with Torchwood later on.
Disclaimer: RTD and BBC owns them. I'm just borrowing them for a while.
Warnings: Please read each chapter's individual warnings. Some parts down the road may briefly mention non-con, abuse, and/or violence. Dark in the beginning. Please note there are some dark thoughts as my boys are broken…for now. Each chapter will be labeled for your convenience.
Author's Notes: Please note this is an AU that will cross over DW to TW season one. I'm probably spoiling my own story, but it will eventually be Janto. There's a bit of a journey first. I hope you enjoy. I'm working on this and intend to post regularly every other day. And again, I always believe in happy endings. So without further ado…
Warning For This Chapter: Very dark, suicide/ self harm themes.
Notes For This Chapter: Note there are parallels to TW's "Out of Time"
Prologue + Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6, Ch 7, Ch 8, Ch 9, Ch 10, Ch 11, Ch. 12, Ch. 13, Ch. 14, Ch. 15, Ch 16, Ch 17, Ch 18, Ch 19 , Ch 20, Ch 21, Ch 22, Ch 23, Ch 24 , Ch 25, Ch 26, Ch 27, Ch 28, Ch 29
Act II
Pairing: Jack/OMC, Jack/?, Jack/Ianto eventually, het and slash
Rating: NC-17
Summary: He left Jack on the game station. Abandoned. But then…he came back…different. An AU look on what happens if things happened differently. Doctor Who 'verse with Torchwood later on.
Disclaimer: RTD and BBC owns them. I'm just borrowing them for a while.
Warnings: Please read each chapter's individual warnings. Some parts down the road may briefly mention non-con, abuse, and/or violence. Dark in the beginning. Please note there are some dark thoughts as my boys are broken…for now. Each chapter will be labeled for your convenience.
Author's Notes: Please note this is an AU that will cross over DW to TW season one. I'm probably spoiling my own story, but it will eventually be Janto. There's a bit of a journey first. I hope you enjoy. I'm working on this and intend to post regularly every other day. And again, I always believe in happy endings. So without further ado…
Warning For This Chapter: Very dark, suicide/ self harm themes.
Notes For This Chapter: Note there are parallels to TW's "Out of Time"
Prologue + Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6, Ch 7, Ch 8, Ch 9, Ch 10, Ch 11, Ch. 12, Ch. 13, Ch. 14, Ch. 15, Ch 16, Ch 17, Ch 18, Ch 19 , Ch 20, Ch 21, Ch 22, Ch 23, Ch 24 , Ch 25, Ch 26, Ch 27, Ch 28, Ch 29
Chapter 30 "Out of Time 2.0"
Act I
December 24
…thrum-thrum-tap-tap…
There was a time when the aliens had invaded the beaches of his home, waking up after believing he had died produced joy and relief.
It felt so long ago. In a way, it has been, or will be. The future was his past and there was no syntax to bracket or pinpoint where he stands. Of course, that's moot if he stays dead this time.
Darkness came then receded sharply. Life ended—in any way he could find—then returned and returned and returned with wretched sharp clarity.
Pain came begrudgingly to end his miserable life; it snatched him away from everything and nothing. He would weep—whether from relief, from fear, he could no longer tell—but the end came too abruptly, often before he could gather a thought, stop to think what he was doing. It was automatic now.
Despair didn't factor into death; choose a way to die, if survive, repeat step one.
The end brought him to the end. All those questions. All those whys that were never answered. All those echoes of his footsteps banging through an empty space station. All that agony hardening in his stomach into a scream that wanted to come out, was aborted by death. Loneliness ended for only minutes. Just minutes carved out of his forever, barely enough to sustain his sanity, more than enough to feed his despair. He was no longer abandoned because he abandoned life first. Blessed darkness…
But then pain came back to revive him once more.
And stayed.
…thrum-thrum-tap-tap…
"Uncle Toe! Uncle Toe!"
Tea nearly splattered when two little arms, one hand clutching a pink felt rabbit, wrapped around Ianto's neck from behind, the added weight making him lean too far back and almost dethroned him from the ottoman he was sitting on.
"Maygan!" Ianto's older brother scolded his oldest daughter.
"Sorry!" Maygan chirped, as sorry as any eight-year-old could get upon seeing her favorite uncle. She clamored, climbing his lap like she would a tree. Ianto set down his cup and loosely circled his arms around the small child so she wouldn't fall. Dark hair, bright brown eyes, Maygan was sometimes far too intelligent for eight. She reminded him of Lorrie that way.
"Did you bring me presents, Uncle Toe?" Maygan clutched his denim jacket so she wouldn't fall. "Christmas presents?"
"Maygan, don't be greedy." His older brother Bryce sounded stern. Maygan's face fell.
"It's alright," Ianto assured his niece with a tap to her upturned nose. Dark braids danced when she giggled. He smiled, a dull ache in his chest when she smiled up at him. Lisa had mentioned the similarity when he both came for a visit during the summer but he never saw it before until now.
He lowered his mouth to her ear. "They're all under the tree. If you promise not to shake them, you can take a peek."
A squeal, a hasty kiss to his cheek and Maygan scrambled down his lap to explore under the tree that stood from floor to ceiling in the back of the parlor.
Bryce, who looked more like their father each time Ianto saw him, chuckled. He scratched his bristly chin. His green eyes twinkled.
"You spoil her."
Ianto scoffed. "So you say. Was that a new rabbit she's playing with?" He smirked. "I thought she was into giraffes."
The roll of the eyes showed just how much Bryce was like their father. "She was until she caught one nibbling on some beets on Sioned's garden. Now it's rabbits, rabbits, rabbits all the time." The older man ran a hand through his hair, still dark and thick; that was from their mother's side. Her hair stayed long and thick until chemotherapy aged her.
Ianto averted his gaze to the other children circling the tall, potted evergreen, playing hide-and-seek with the presents laid out over a carpet of red velvet.
"It's good to see you again."
Ianto turned back to see Bryce looking at him, his eyes sympathetic.
"I'm damn sorry about Lisa. She was a good girl."
Ianto grimaced and turned back towards the children. This was one of the main reasons why he was reluctant to come. Bryce hadn't been the only one ready to offer his condolences since he arrived last night.
"Wasn't sure if you were going to show up," Bryce continued gruffly. "You didn't last year."
It was a subtle reproach. Ianto only acknowledged it with a shrug and a half smile. He had spent last Christmas watching Lisa's respirator as it had stuttered all throughout the day. He read to her as the rows and rows of beds of other partially converted humans slept on behind him, their own ventilators failing. Five more died by Boxing Day and his voice had gone hoarse by the time the sun rose in the UNIT complex. But Lisa had stayed. Ianto then thought it was a good sign.
"I'm here now," Ianto offered. He looked around. He could see his cousins, his great aunt, and uncles all gathered around laughing reminiscing save one.
"Where is that sister of ours?"
Bryce coughed, his eyes on his children and their cousins' children. "Sioned had to run some errands and pick up a few friends."
Ianto turned sharply. "Friends? What sort of friends?"
It didn't matter Bryce was a brilliant barrister, inches taller, and years older than Ianto. He could still squirm like a boy. Another thing inherited from their mother. They were both horrible liars. She couldn't look Ianto in the eye when she had claimed she was feeling much better with the chemotherapy.
"Bryce," Ianto groaned.
A large hand rose to placate him. "Hold on. Just a few uni girls who were graduating this year from Sioned's department. They can't fly home for the holidays and Sioned invited them to spend it with us. It wasn't because you were coming," Bryce hastened to say. "For all we know, you would have sent your greetings and presents through the post again.
Ianto clamped his mouth shut and set his jaw.
"She—we hoped you might show up this year, but she didn't specifically invite them because of that."
Ianto sighed heavily and took a long sip of his tea.
"I hear they're very nice girls. Sioned said one of them has a really nice pair of—"
Tea sprayed. "Bryce!"
Children paused. Adults strained to see. It felt like even the fireplace held its breath. Ianto smiled wanly at everyone's gapes before turning back to Bryce.
"First editions that might interest you." Bryce blinked before he bared his teeth in that older brother grin that irked Ianto.
"What did you think I was going to say?"
Ianto ducked his head, his face flaming. "Shut up," he muttered as Bryce cackled, thumping him soundly on the back.
He came to, staring at a blood stained jar. The pterodactyl crowed above, its wings beating against its cage, it's clawed feet noisily scrabbling on the bottom of its dwelling. He rose to his feet, stood there swaying. His body ached, perhaps aged to finally reflect the years he'd accumulated.
Limbs heavy, too heavy to move easily, he slipped off the greatcoat anchoring him down on his shoulders and simply let it fall where he stood. He staggered back to the jar, the gun still hot dropped between the stasis containers and watched the hand wave him goodbye. He hunched over, his head resting on top of the jar, his hands balled into fists.
John Ellis didn't find his life, fifty years past his timeline, was enough to fight for. It wasn't enough to start over. He couldn't convince John Ellis it was enough to stay. He couldn't convince the Doctor to stay either.
…thrum-thrum-tap-tap…
Not enough. Not enough, the bubbling liquid sang to him. He needed to try harder because he didn't try hard enough before when the Vortex was peeled away from his body, when the Doctor sank into his body, when he lay there and watched Hartman approached with glazed and hungry eyes, the tubing slithering into his veins. It wasn't enough. It never was.
When will it be enough? He wanted to ask, scream, but there was no one here to listen. Just a jar. Everyone else was gone; to live their lives like they should, or stowed in cold drawers to be forgotten by everyone but him. Memories were all he had, all that will survive by him.
…thrum-thrum-tap-tap…
He pulled away from the stasis jar and staggered past the tree. He nearly tumbled down the steps into the medical bay, but he didn't break his neck, and just landed with his legs awkwardly folded under him. He stared blankly at the cold storage door where a man, a lost and unwilling time traveler, escaped his doom by simply falling asleep and not waking up. He tried, under noble pretenses of not letting him go into the dark alone.
John Ellis died. He lived.
Drawers were messily pulled under his fury, bottles shattered until he found what he was looking for. Fragile containers were clutched in his fist as he climbed the stairs.
Let this be enough.
Behind him, within the folds of his coat on the ground, his mobile rang plaintively but he was beyond caring.
…thrum-thrum-tap-tap…
Beep.
"Hello. Ah…it's—well, of course you know who this is, you would have my number on your phone, not that I'm saying you would have my number in your mobile that would be presumptuous of me to assume you would but of course you would because that's standard for Torch—" Ianto took a deep breath.
"Let me start again," Ianto stammered. "Ignore all that."
"Hello, it's me, I'm just calling to say Happy Christ—damn, I don't know if you celebrate Christmas, I just assume…oh I shouldn't assume—wait, wait, wait, wait, wait! Let's try this one more time."
Ianto opened the door, peered to his left, to his right, but no one had wandered into the foyer or past the opened closet. He exhaled, inhaled, closed his eyes and tried again in a brighter voice.
"Hello, it's me. Just wanted to call an—"
Beep.
Damn it.
Ianto resisted the urge to toss his mobile. Stupid. He didn't know why he even called. What if Jack did pick up?
The kiss had flummoxed him. By the time he climbed into the car and was down the road towards his family's home, it occurred to Ianto he was aptly veered off topic. Jack Harkness didn't play fair. And it irked Ianto on the way to the house. He still wasn't adjusted to the idea that a man could drive him to distraction like that.
His father's townhouse was hours from London, but not too far from Cardiff. The difference had been pointed out to him countless times last night, this morning, and just before.
It was why Ianto was making awkward calls to Jack on his mobile, presently hiding in the closet. The irony didn't escape him when he had ducked behind damp coats and smelly shoes. He sat there, staring at his oldest sister's fashionable boots, and he remembered the last time they were here, he'd teased Lisa for paying more attention to the children than her boyfriend. Lisa had blushed, confessed shyly she adored children and Ianto since that day had imagined what their children might look like.
Then, he remembered how thin and tired Jack sounded standing over John Ellis' body and how his kiss tasted like goodbye. Soon, he was fumbling for his mobile in the dark. His fingers trembled as he punched the speed dial.
Ianto sat on someone's upright carryon luggage in the back of the closet as he listened to Jack's voicemail. He felt every bit as foolish as when he had shaved Sioned's cat when he was six. Although, that wasn't his fault really. The cat had been content to lie there in the sun while he used father's razor on its tail.
He should have thought of something witty to say on the mobile. He was, after all, courting Captain Jack Harkness. Male or female, Ianto should have been able to think of something clever to say. A witty vernacular on Jack's voicemail would have been ideal. Even a "Hello, thought I would call to tell you chin up" would have suffice, but no, he ended up babbling about absolutely nothing until the system had enough of him and cut the call.
He wanted to make an excuse to his family and leave, check on Jack, but he couldn't think of any plausible excuse, nothing that would circumvent away from Lisa, her death, Jack or the "hello, I might possibly be gay after all, sorry about the grandchildren!"
Ianto sighed and dropped his face in his hands. He should have stayed home as he had originally planned.
"Why are you in the closet?"
"Because I'm a bloody coward," Ianto muttered under his breath. He started. He raised his eyes and stared at the little boy standing in the center of the open doorway, so small, his shadow didn't reach Ianto.
"Are you playing hide and seek?" Too young to understand the concept of leaving well enough alone, the boy stood there, gnawing on the worn, well chewed ear of a teddy bear. Dark hair, sky blue eyes, and looking very solitary by the doorway, the boy eerily reminded him of Jack. Ianto rose to his feet because the sight of the child standing there made his heart ache. As he drew closer, he recognized the little boy of four as the youngest boy from one of his cousins.
Unafraid, the boy looked up at him, still chewing on the toy's ear.
"Drew, is it? Yes, you could say I was hiding," Ianto smiled down on the child, holding on to the hand the boy offered, fully expecting it to be accepted, and followed Ianto out of the closet.
"Cousin Toe?"
Oh bloody hell, it's reached his cousins now. He was going to kill Bryce.
"Hm?" Ianto grit out from what he hoped was a pleasant smile.
"True?" Drew still pronounced his Rs as Ws.
"What is?"
"That you beat up a thousand terriers?"
Ianto nearly walked into the tree as they entered the parlor. Ianto gaped at the boy. Maybe he misheard.
"I what?"
"A thousand terriers." Of course it made perfect sense to Drew, but all it invoked for Ianto was a very disturbing image of him stomping on black and brown miniature canines with a very large gun.
It didn't help the rest of the next generation of Jones came bounding up at him in a rapid fire of Welsh and English. Ianto found himself unable to respond. Apparently, he was a great hero for beating up terriers because they blew up Can—oh.
Ianto smiled wanly as he hoisted Drew, who was getting trampled by the clamor of the older children, up in his arms.
"You mean terrorists?" His throat hurt when he answered. He had forgotten that was the cover story Whitehall gave for the destruction of Torchwood.
"Aye, off with you all. There are cookies in the kitchen. Go stuff your faces silly with sugar with granddad."
Ianto was surprised how reluctant he was to let Drew go as he wiggled down to scamper after the others for fresh, hot treats. Ianto grinned blearily at his brother as Bryce shooed them all away.
"Thought you ran back to Cardiff," Bryce joked, but he looked so relieved, Ianto felt a pang in his chest.
Ianto sank back into the armchair and offered Bryce an apologetic smile. The Christmas tree stood behind him and surrounded him with the clean scent of pine and salty, buttery popcorn. He took a deep breath. He hadn't realized how much he missed this scent.
"They've all grown up so fast since I last saw them," Ianto confessed. "It's a bit of a shock." Lisa had loved each and every one of them and before the battle in Canary Wharf, had made lists of what she wanted to get them for Christmas. Ianto had kept her lists, tucked her neatly printed notes into the pages of his journal, and used them to guide him on his shopping this year. It seemed appropriate.
"You visit more often, it wouldn't be such a shock then," Bryce chided.
Ianto set his jaw and chose not to answer.
Bryce sighed. "Listen, we worry, can't be helped, might as well get used to it. We had to hear about Lisa from BBC when they released the list of the dead. It didn't help you were on it either!"
Ianto winced, thoroughly chastened. He should have called immediately. There had been so much confusion then. He remembered the days of windowless rooms, endless questions, and the universal looks of stunned shock of survivors who milled past him as they were queued up for interrogation.
"There wasn't a chance to call," Ianto repeated the same thing he told them when he had called his family alone in the flat he shared with Lisa. He had sat there, roused from his restless doze on the armchair by a siren that went by.
Like before, Bryce just sighed. It was an argument where it was no point in winning. Ianto never provided many details about Canary Wharf or his job in Torchwood. Ianto was obliged by duty to keep secret and frankly, he was too tired to endure their worries even if they were well intended.
Bryce cleared his throat. "My office is consulting with Whitehall on the legalities of that Archangel satellite network. We're always looking for—"
"I'm fine in Torchwood," Ianto interrupted. He knew where that conversation always led.
There was an unimpressed snort. "I hope they're offering you hazard pay."
Ianto grunted. "For an office job?"
"Well, it seems to still be targets for terrorists unless your Torchwood isn't quite as mundane as you have suggested. But I suppose it's better than some of the other jobs you've carried before."
Ianto sighed loudly, cutting Bryce off. "Are we going to have this conversation every year?"
"Not really. I was going to last year but you'd never showed. It's Sioned's turn this year. She'll be talking to you later when she's back."
An arm over his eyes, Ianto groaned.
"I should get hazard pay for this." Ianto waved blindly with his other hand. "Surely there must be something far more interesting to talk about than my career choices?"
"Fine." Bryce paused. "When are giving our father grandchildren?"
Ianto sank lower into the chaise. Fighting a Weevil might have been more fun.
His brother sounded solemn, too sympathetic for Ianto to swallow. "It's been over a year, Toe."
Was he counting from London or Cardiff, Ianto thought morbidly, but to his surprise, without bitterness. A dull pang ached in his throat. Perhaps it had been a while; long enough that he could think about Lisa dry-eyed.
"I'm fine," Ianto said quietly, lowering his arm so he could look directly at Bryce. "I'm okay," he said in a firm voice that he truly believed.
Bryce stared at him for a beat. Slowly, he nodded. He quirked a smile and turned to watch the young children chattered. They emerged from the kitchen, towing their father, a slight man currently laughing despite being covered in flour, to sit by the couch. Bryce chuckled as he watched his daughter in the other room.
"Children do grow up fast don't they?" Bryce mused out loud. "Time never waits."
Ianto merely looked away and wished he had been able to reach Jack after all. The need was overwhelming and Ianto couldn't explain why. He wanted to hear Jack's voice.
Ianto merely looked away and wished he had been able to reach Jack after all. The need was overwhelming and Ianto couldn't explain why. He wanted to hear Jack's voice.
Act II
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“Well, that was fun. Let’s NOT do this again next year.”
“I thought it went well. Your sister Sioned seemed to be thrilled but your brother seemed to be freaking out a little. Isn’t he the one that asked you about…”
“Jack, shut up.”
“Your sister-in-law was quite helpful too. What was her name again? Got a ton of information from her and some websites that should be helpful.”
“Really, Jack. Please shut up.”
“I don’t understand what they meant when they said that I was ‘glowing’.”
“Once again, Jack. SHUT UP.”
Jack settled himself back into his chair and tried to be quiet. He was so excited about finally meeting Ianto’s family even if Ianto dreaded the day. He picked up one the books that was given to him by Sioned and started reading. His other hand ran over his swollen belly.
“I still don’t know what your brother’s problem is. After all, he was the one that asked you when you were going to give your father grandkids.”
I think I'm going to need a respiratory bypass system if I can't stop laughing...
Oh, and you write children well. Someday some toy company is going to make a fortune selling teddy bears with flavoured ears, 'cuz children all seem to have an instinctive knowledge that they're meant for chewing on...
Thank you. I think I am around children too much because sometimes I start acting like one. LOL