othercaptjack | (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.

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"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?"

"Well, I am responsible for keeping humanity safe from a half-open rift in time and space on a day-to-day basis, and seem to manage," Jack says sharply. "Just a thought."

Then he sighs. "Even if there was nothing we could have done, nothing... she would have died painlessly. And two other people would be alive right now."

It's a cruel thing to say, he knows. But he has to make him see.

Ianto's face hardens.

"Yes," he says quietly. "Exactly. You protect humanity from threats. Cybermen are threats. You would have only seen the cyberman and not Lisa. Or you would have asked me to watch her die."

"You watched her die anyway," Jack retorts. "Her mind, in the stolen body of an innocent girl. If you truly believe it was her there, that it was still Lisa when she murdered Annie and was trying to kill us all, don't you think going painlessly to sleep would have been better than dying under a hail of bullets?"

"I had my girl for a few more months. You can't ask me to regret that!"

"Either you didn't really have her, just some alien robot that stole her body; or for those few more months, she suffered, Ianto."

Jack's voice is harsh, but there is grief etched on his face, no matter how hard he tries to keep it steady. "Personally, I pray she knew nothing about those few months, but died back in Torchwood One. If not, both of you went through all that, the pain as she healed, and the loss of her mind when her programming kicked in."

He softens very slightly, voice still brittle. "But either way, you lost. And I truly am sorry for that."

Ianto's face twists.

He knows--in his heart he knew--but the words still stab.

"Torchwood won't be happy until it's stripped us of everything," he says bitterly.

Jack doesn't even notice that he's stepped closer, and is on the verge of invading personal space that Ianto probably really needs right now.

"No," he says, almost softly. "It's a job that takes, and destroys, and never stops. And I think it's worth it - but if you don't, that's what these two weeks are for. So you can decide."

"And what if I have nothing left to give," he says in a voice that's flat and empty.

"You'd be surprised how many employees carry on because of just that," Jack says.

Owen. Tosh.

Jack, and his spartan existence in a room just above the main hub. The pause stretches just a little further than is comfortable.

"It's better than nothing."

Ianto shakes his head.

He's young and in love and grieving, and that doesn't make for wisdom. Or even reason.

"There's a difference between nothing left to give and nothing left to lose."

Jack just looks at him, very tired all of a sudden, but calmer.

"If that's true, then you can still change your mind," he says gently, and resists the urge to touch Ianto's hair or shoulder - just something. He always was physical in relating to other people, and not just when it came to sex. He folds his arms instead, watching Ianto's pale, anguished face sadly but steadily.

Ianto closes his eyes.

"If I have nothing left to lose, I stay. If I have nothing left to give, I go." He laughs mirthlessly. "Never a man for easy questions, sir."

"Never, unless you count the odd 'your place or mine?'" Jack confirms, truthfully.

"My bed's bigger," Ianto says automatically.

...Okay, and Jack's not forgetting that in a hurry.

He quirks an almost amused eyebrow.

"And don't think I won't bear that in mind," he says. But... Ianto's grieving, and damaged, and probably at least partly hates him, and the last thing he wants to do is manage to shatter him even more.

Dammit, when did he get responsible?

Ianto looks away and mutters, "Sorry. Habit.

"I should go."

Before he says something worse.

"Never apologise for flirting, intentionally or not," Jack reproves lightly, before nodding, and finally taking a step back, tension lessening.

"Can you get back all right?"

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likesthecoat - 2008-04-24 00:23 (UTC) - Expand

othercaptjack - 2008-05-01 21:31 (UTC) - Expand