Jealous of a dead man

[enzo_the_rhino]

Title: Jealous of a dead man
Characters: Jack, Ianto
Rating: err PG-13
Warnings: Angst, suicidal thoughts
Spoilers: Out of Time
Disclaimer: Not mine, BBC's, RTD's etc.
Summary: Jack returns from John dying and Ianto lets him talk.

 

Jack walks into the Hub, his drooping shoulders and something hiding behind the eyes a testament to his weariness. Ianto is the only one still around to greet him.

“I’m sorry about your car, Ianto. I’ve sent it to be cleaned so it should be ready by tomorrow afternoon.”

“It’s a pity you didn’t get to him in time, sir.” Ianto had quite liked John; he could understand the man’s bewilderment of the world crumbling around him. Life is far freer now and Ianto has always had a great affection for regularity.

“I don’t know about that.” Jack says with a deep sigh, “I always think that if someone wants to kill themselves then who are we to intervene. It’s their life, it’s their choice. Why should we force them to carry on living if they obviously don’t want to? It’s not as if John had any family who are going to miss him. It’s only his life he’s affecting. And your car of course, but all memory of him there can be washed away.”

“I believe they steam clean it, actually.” Ianto regrets it the moment he said it but no technology has yet come through the rift to allow you to take back what you just said.

 

Jack walks through the Hub pensively, not commenting on the pile of unfinished work on Owen’s desk or the homemade paper chains on Gwen’s. Even Myfanwy feels his dark mood and doesn’t try to dive-bomb him in the hope of some extra food.

 

Ianto follows behind him and gently removes the large, heavy coat, wishing all burdens could be removed as easily.  As Ianto hangs the coat in the corner, Jack takes two glasses and pours whisky into both of them from a bottle he keeps for such occasions.

 “You weren’t too late, were you sir?” Ianto starts softly when they were both sitting, comfortably or otherwise.

“What makes you say that Ianto?” There is no trace of emotion detectable in Jack’s voice, nothing to help Ianto decide how to proceed.

“Your coat smells of exhaust fumes.” He decides the direct approach is probably easiest for all concerned.
Jack pauses for a moment and takes a sip of his whisky to fill the silence.

 

Eventually he takes a deep breath and looks up, his pale blue eyes meeting with Ianto’s greyer ones for the first time that evening. “No, you’re right. I was with him. I guess I can add carbon monoxide poisoning to the list of things that can’t kill me.”

There is another pause whilst Ianto collects his thoughts, until words burst uncontrollably out of his mouth. “Why do you keep doing it Jack? Is life really that bad for you?” He can’t stop the bitterness entering his voice.

“Can’t you understand why someone would want to quit this life, with all its trauma and hardships?” Jack asks, a little more harshly than he intended.

“But Suzie said there was nothing.” A flash of bewilderment crosses the younger man’s face before the mask is restored. He has been brought up to believe in the value of life and the darkness hasn’t quite managed to totally steal this yet. He has managed to keep on living through his personal hell - Jack shouldn't be let off the struggle just because he has no choice.

“Don’t you ever think how peaceful that would be?” A resemblance of the well-known enthusiasm returns to Jack’s voice, “I mean I always imagined heaven and hell to be just like earth but all the evil things and people are in hell and all the good things and people are in heaven. Imagine what it would be like, leaving the world just to find that the next one was even worse and there was no way to escape – it just went on forever ‘cos you couldn’t die again. Or even if it’s all sunshine and roses, is that what you really want, forever? But if there is nothing, then the end is really an end when it finally comes. It’s all over. You don’t have to carry on struggling through every day.”

“You feel like you’re living in hell?” It’s half a question, half as statement but whilst his face remains impassive, something in his grey eyes betrays his true emotions.

“In hell there are no good things.” A smile begins to lift Jack’s darkness. “I might not be able to escape the bad things here however hard I try, but at least there are good thing here too. Any world with you in it can’t be all bad. It’s just, what’s life worth, if you can’t know anything else.”

 

 Ianto is at a loss for what to say but Jack just reaches out a hand to him across the table. They sit in the gathering darkness, the soft lighting accentuating the sheen of the whisky still sitting on the table next to their clasped hands. Ianto’s long delicate fingers entwined with Jack’s thicker, more powerful ones, his thumb gently stroking the back of the older man’s hand. All that can be said is done so in a warm genuine smile, more in the eyes than the mouth. And it’s enough to get them both through one more day.