othercaptjack | (no subject)

(no subject)

This is going to be difficult.

Jack steeples his fingers for a moment, elbows on his desk, and rests his forehead against them. His fingers feel cold. He'd wondered whether it was wise or not to hold this particular chat in his office, but... it's mostly private, especially with the rest of Torchwood at home for the evening, and if it's a little coldly professional, well- it is, mostly, a professional matter.

It should be entirely professional. Maybe talking to Ianto Jones in his office will help him remember that. He'd sent the boy home in a cab, after Lisa was dead, and more or less ordered him to sleep for no less than ten hours, then stay at home, and not come back until this meeting. Which Jack is now kicking himself for, because preofessionalism or not, this is still in the hub, and that can't be helpful. He wants to be logical before going into the emotional side.

Myfanwy screeches somewhere high above, and Jack sighs to himself. He can only hope that he can be of some help, today. This isn't just a disciplinary talk. This has to tell him more about Ianto than rereading his file will give.

He just hopes he won't get shot again. That's always so hard to explain.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Ianto starts to speak at the mention of suspension. "And what am I do to during those weeks? Wait for you to call me?"

Jack shakes his head.

"You can call here, if you want to. Or visit family or friends, if you'd prefer not to speak with anyone from Torchwood. Think of it as a time for you to consider your options without interference or pressure. And for the others to get out any... problematic feelings without focusing them on you. They were too tired today, for the most part, but I suspect tomorrow mght be different. I'd rather you not make your decision in light of their reactions, whatever they might be."

Then he pauses, and looks down at his desk, before glancing up again, determinedly. "It's a little late for my reaction, unfortunately."

"I don't have any family. Sir."

he looks at Jack and then looks away again, pressing his lips together. "If you want me gone I'd prefer you just did it. Don't make me wait."

Well, fuck.

Jack takes a moment to kick himself for not checking that before this meeting, and moves directly on.

"That's the thing," is what he eventually says, watching the other man to try and gauge his reaction. "I'm not sure I want to lose you."

"Oh."

It's very small.

Evan smaller, "I'm not sure I want to be lost."

He clears his throat and looks anywhere but back at Jack. This is madness.

Jack finally permits himself a small, tight half-smile.

"That's a start," he says dryly. "I guess it's what we have to work with."

"Yes, sir," Ianto mutters and decides the safest place to look right now is the toe of his shoe.

Shiny.

Jack suppresses a sigh. But then, it's not as if it was ever likely that Ianto would pour out his heart to the man who - at least from a certain point of view - murdered his girlfriend.

His voice, when he speaks again, is subtly gentler. "Let's go with the assumption that you'll be coming back, Ianto," he says. "If you change your mind in the next week or two, I won't hold it against you." He looks down at the surface of his desk and the inevitable muddle of paperwork. "...Not that it'll affect you one way or the other."

The idea of being sent away hurts almost as much as the idea of coming back. Of course, if he does leave, he won't miss it.

Maybe it would be better just to let it all go.

"Two weeks," he says with a short nod. "Very well."

[ooc: Also, hometime for me.]

Edited 2008-04-22 22:57 (UTC)

Jack nods in response.

"I suggest a lot of sleep," he says, then hesitates. "And I meant it, when I said you can call here, if you need to hear another voice. I want you to rest, but total isolation might not be what you need right now."

If only Torchwood was the kind of job where you could go see a psychiatrist at the first hint of stress.

"Sure. Sleep." Ianto frowns at his shoe.

Jack does not suggest raiding Owen's supplies. The last thing he wants is to give Ianto a source of sleeping pills.

"I don't imagine these past few months have been easy," he says quietly. "If you can, I think you need a rest."

Ianto struggles with several responses. Finally he says, "I'll try."

Because he will. The thought of sleep--of not worrying every second and searching for answers he knows in his heart he'll never find--is tempting as sin.

That will have to do.

"All right," Jack says, then. He pauses for a moment. "Was there anything you wanted to ask?"

Oh, so many things.

He says simply, "Will you call me, please? While I'm suspended? I may not always think of it."

Jack nods immediately. That's got to be progress, that Ianto wants to be talked to.

Unless it's a cunning plan to get revenge, but Jack will deal with that when and if it comes.

"I will," he says.

They'll deal with it. Somehow.

"Thank you."

He's quiet a moment. "Was there anything else, sir?"

"No. That's it," he says, and sits back.

"We can talk more about things for when you come back over the phone, assuming you still want to."

If he decides he can't live with it, he doesn't have to. The beauty of retcon.

Ianto nods with a soft, "All right," and stands.

He starts to go and then pauses and almost turns back. He says quietly, "I regret nothing," and steps out.

...

Oh, hell no.

It may have been previously noted that Jack has trouble with anger-management. That may or may not explain the speed with with he vaults out of his chair to stride after Ianto.

"Oh no?" he says, voice ringing through the empty hub, eyes fixed on the other man's back. "I wonder if you really thought that through."

Ianto stops and turns to him.

The facial expression could be called "mulish."

He says, very softly and without emphasis, "I loved her. I thought I was doing what was best. The end result was wrong but I can't regret trying."

Well, at least he knows that much.

"Sure, you thought it was right," Jack says, slowly approaching. "But still, knowing what you know now?"

Jack's expression is set.

So is Ianto's.

"I couldn't have killed her, Jack."

"You could have told someone. In the early stages... we could have tried. Or at least gauged how far the conversion had gone."

Whether they would or not, Jack doesn't know. But Lisa had looked more human than Cyberwoman - even acted it, very briefly.

"It's amazing how often someone from Torchwood tries to deal with something beyond them all alone. It's hardly ever for the best."

He lost Suzie to something that wasn't even sentient. He nearly lost Ianto yesterday, to say nothing of the rest of the world. He might still lose Ianto.

Ianto manages to keep breathing evenly.

"How could I have known I could trust you?"