FIC: Someone to Say Goodbye To (Prologue)
Sep. 1st, 2008 08:00 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ficwizeTitle: Someone to Say Goodbye To
Fandom: Torchwood/Doctor Who
Pairing: Ianto/Lisa, Jack/Ianto
Warnings: Violence, sex, death, the end of the world.
Rating: Adult.
Summary: Ianto Jones and the end of the world.
Prompt: Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
valderys's ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
apocalyptothon request: There's a lot of clearing up to do at the end of the world - it might be too much, even for Ianto. AU? The Battle of Canary Wharf didn't fail - the Cybermen won. I've always enjoyed Ianto/Jack/Lisa angst - how would it be if Lisa remembers Ianto enough to keep him human? What if he still meets Jack?
Spoilers: Specific spoilers for Cyberwoman from Torchwood and Army of Ghosts and Doomdsday from Doctor Who.
Disclaimer: I don't own these fandoms.
Length: 21,347 words
A/N: I owe thanks to a great many people. First, thanks tokatilara for helping me conceptualize this fic. Thanks to shane_mayham for holding my hand while I wrote it. I couldn't have done it without you! Thanks also to catwomyn5, lyndalynn and jazzlvr for the comments and encouragement after the first draft.
Finally, so many thanks tost_aurafina for going above and beyond with the beta help. You have made this a great deal better than it would otherwise have been.
Lastly, thanks to Bonk for the graphic, which I love!
As always, feedback is welcome and appreciated.
*************
********PROLOGUE********
Ianto Jones had no idea what time it was when the door to his cell slammed open. He hadn’t been sleeping; he hardly ever slept anymore. He lifted his head listlessly from his chest to see what caused the commotion. Perhaps they were finally coming for him. It had been two weeks. Surely, they were running out of tortures they could inflict on him.
Two Cybermen guards marched in, feet clanging a metallic staccato on the concrete floor as they dragged someone between them. They dropped the stranger on the ground without comment and left with barely a pause in the Teutonic rhythm of their steps. Ianto didn’t move from the corner he sat in, knees drawn up to his chest, until after the Cyberman pushed the door into place. A soft hum signaled that the lock had been activated and Ianto dropped his head again, unconcerned with the stranger.
Undoubtedly, the Cybermen would be back to drag the man out of the cell tomorrow, screaming and pleading for mercy. The Cybermen, in their twisted and sadistic fashion, would believe that Upgrading the man was merciful. That thought made Ianto’s blood run cold and he broke into a clammy sweat. Closing his eyes, he took several deep breaths, trying to remember what it felt like to be unafraid. Failing, he opened his eyes and twisted his head to stare at the stranger again. Ianto tried to be grateful that at least he wasn’t that unfortunate bastard.
From where Ianto sat, he could only see the stranger’s back. The man was tall, that much was obvious even when he was prone. He had dark hair, which was filthy and Ianto suspected it wouldn't be long before it was crawling with lice – if he survived that long. His long navy coat was tattered and even in the dim light, Ianto noticed holes and something that looked like blood along the right shoulder.
Still, Ianto couldn’t help but notice that the other man appeared to be in surprisingly good health for someone the Cybermen guards had just dumped in his cell. Usually, prisoners were only left in Ianto’s care if the Cybermen feared death would claim the victim before they could be Upgraded.
After the third person, Ianto refused to help anyone else. He thought that Death deserved a fair chance and if he hadn’t been such a coward, he might have helped a few of them escape that way. Death couldn’t be as bad as what the Cyberman did to the people they captured.
The new prisoner didn’t move, but Ianto could see he was breathing. Once, Ianto would have said that the prisoner was lucky. Now, he hoped that there were internal injuries no one could see without medical intervention. Maybe at least one of them would escape this hell before another day passed.
Ianto closed his eyes and let himself slip into that state of almost-sleep, still keenly aware of the other man’s presence. When the stranger’s breath hitched and he let out a small, but terrified whimper, Ianto moved without thinking. He crossed the cell floor on his hands and knees, stopping by the other man’s head. Reaching out a gentle hand, Ianto pressed it lightly on the man’s shoulder. “Easy, friend. You’re safe here for the moment.”
The stranger coughed and rolled towards him, opening his eyes. Ianto felt a jolt when their gazes met, intrigued by the depth of the sadness in the other prisoner’s eyes, which were too old for his face. “For the moment? That’s not exactly comforting.”
“You’re an American?” Ianto asked, feeling stupid for asking the obvious.
“Sort of. It’s complicated.” The stranger breathed out, his expression pained. “Where am I?”
“The cells of Torchwood One.” Ianto smiled bitterly. “If that means anything to you.” He was surprised again to see recognition in the other man’s eyes.
“What’s your name?” The stranger asked, coughing into his hand.
“Jones. Ianto Jones.”
“Well, Jones, Ianto Jones, my name is Jack Harkness.” Jack smiled and Ianto smiled back automatically. “Captain Jack Harkness.”
Ianto raised an eyebrow. “Captain? Of what?”
“Most recently, Torchwood Three.” Jack’s eyes closed. “Or whatever’s left of it.”
“What happened?” Ianto whispered, shock running through his system and making it hard to breathe. The only people in the world who knew about Torchwood One worked in the branch offices and if the branch offices were gone… There was no one left who would know about the project that had taken place at Canary Wharf.
Jack’s face tightened and he didn’t open his eyes. “If you don’t mind, Mr. Jones, Ianto Jones, that’s a story for another day.”
“You can tell me later.” Ianto turned to the small cot that sat along the east wall of the cell and pulled off the single, thin blanket. Still kneeling, he draped it over Jack’s form. “If you’d like.”
Jack didn’t open his eyes and Ianto moved back to the corner where he had been when Jack had first been dragged into the cell. “Ianto?” Jack’s voice was quiet, but Ianto heard it clearly. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” The silence stretched in the cell until Ianto was just nodding off into a fitful doze.
“Ianto?” Jack's voice startled him.
“Yes, sir?”
“I’m sorry I’m late.”
There was a heartbeat of silence. “Me too.”
Continue to Part I
Fandom: Torchwood/Doctor Who
Pairing: Ianto/Lisa, Jack/Ianto
Warnings: Violence, sex, death, the end of the world.
Rating: Adult.
Summary: Ianto Jones and the end of the world.
Prompt: Written for
valderys's apocalyptothon request: There's a lot of clearing up to do at the end of the world - it might be too much, even for Ianto. AU? The Battle of Canary Wharf didn't fail - the Cybermen won. I've always enjoyed Ianto/Jack/Lisa angst - how would it be if Lisa remembers Ianto enough to keep him human? What if he still meets Jack?Spoilers: Specific spoilers for Cyberwoman from Torchwood and Army of Ghosts and Doomdsday from Doctor Who.
Disclaimer: I don't own these fandoms.
Length: 21,347 words
A/N: I owe thanks to a great many people. First, thanks to
katilara for helping me conceptualize this fic. Thanks to shane_mayham for holding my hand while I wrote it. I couldn't have done it without you! Thanks also to catwomyn5, lyndalynn and jazzlvr for the comments and encouragement after the first draft. Finally, so many thanks to
st_aurafina for going above and beyond with the beta help. You have made this a great deal better than it would otherwise have been.Lastly, thanks to Bonk for the graphic, which I love!
As always, feedback is welcome and appreciated.
*************
Ianto Jones had no idea what time it was when the door to his cell slammed open. He hadn’t been sleeping; he hardly ever slept anymore. He lifted his head listlessly from his chest to see what caused the commotion. Perhaps they were finally coming for him. It had been two weeks. Surely, they were running out of tortures they could inflict on him.
Two Cybermen guards marched in, feet clanging a metallic staccato on the concrete floor as they dragged someone between them. They dropped the stranger on the ground without comment and left with barely a pause in the Teutonic rhythm of their steps. Ianto didn’t move from the corner he sat in, knees drawn up to his chest, until after the Cyberman pushed the door into place. A soft hum signaled that the lock had been activated and Ianto dropped his head again, unconcerned with the stranger.
Undoubtedly, the Cybermen would be back to drag the man out of the cell tomorrow, screaming and pleading for mercy. The Cybermen, in their twisted and sadistic fashion, would believe that Upgrading the man was merciful. That thought made Ianto’s blood run cold and he broke into a clammy sweat. Closing his eyes, he took several deep breaths, trying to remember what it felt like to be unafraid. Failing, he opened his eyes and twisted his head to stare at the stranger again. Ianto tried to be grateful that at least he wasn’t that unfortunate bastard.
From where Ianto sat, he could only see the stranger’s back. The man was tall, that much was obvious even when he was prone. He had dark hair, which was filthy and Ianto suspected it wouldn't be long before it was crawling with lice – if he survived that long. His long navy coat was tattered and even in the dim light, Ianto noticed holes and something that looked like blood along the right shoulder.
Still, Ianto couldn’t help but notice that the other man appeared to be in surprisingly good health for someone the Cybermen guards had just dumped in his cell. Usually, prisoners were only left in Ianto’s care if the Cybermen feared death would claim the victim before they could be Upgraded.
After the third person, Ianto refused to help anyone else. He thought that Death deserved a fair chance and if he hadn’t been such a coward, he might have helped a few of them escape that way. Death couldn’t be as bad as what the Cyberman did to the people they captured.
The new prisoner didn’t move, but Ianto could see he was breathing. Once, Ianto would have said that the prisoner was lucky. Now, he hoped that there were internal injuries no one could see without medical intervention. Maybe at least one of them would escape this hell before another day passed.
Ianto closed his eyes and let himself slip into that state of almost-sleep, still keenly aware of the other man’s presence. When the stranger’s breath hitched and he let out a small, but terrified whimper, Ianto moved without thinking. He crossed the cell floor on his hands and knees, stopping by the other man’s head. Reaching out a gentle hand, Ianto pressed it lightly on the man’s shoulder. “Easy, friend. You’re safe here for the moment.”
The stranger coughed and rolled towards him, opening his eyes. Ianto felt a jolt when their gazes met, intrigued by the depth of the sadness in the other prisoner’s eyes, which were too old for his face. “For the moment? That’s not exactly comforting.”
“You’re an American?” Ianto asked, feeling stupid for asking the obvious.
“Sort of. It’s complicated.” The stranger breathed out, his expression pained. “Where am I?”
“The cells of Torchwood One.” Ianto smiled bitterly. “If that means anything to you.” He was surprised again to see recognition in the other man’s eyes.
“What’s your name?” The stranger asked, coughing into his hand.
“Jones. Ianto Jones.”
“Well, Jones, Ianto Jones, my name is Jack Harkness.” Jack smiled and Ianto smiled back automatically. “Captain Jack Harkness.”
Ianto raised an eyebrow. “Captain? Of what?”
“Most recently, Torchwood Three.” Jack’s eyes closed. “Or whatever’s left of it.”
“What happened?” Ianto whispered, shock running through his system and making it hard to breathe. The only people in the world who knew about Torchwood One worked in the branch offices and if the branch offices were gone… There was no one left who would know about the project that had taken place at Canary Wharf.
Jack’s face tightened and he didn’t open his eyes. “If you don’t mind, Mr. Jones, Ianto Jones, that’s a story for another day.”
“You can tell me later.” Ianto turned to the small cot that sat along the east wall of the cell and pulled off the single, thin blanket. Still kneeling, he draped it over Jack’s form. “If you’d like.”
Jack didn’t open his eyes and Ianto moved back to the corner where he had been when Jack had first been dragged into the cell. “Ianto?” Jack’s voice was quiet, but Ianto heard it clearly. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” The silence stretched in the cell until Ianto was just nodding off into a fitful doze.
“Ianto?” Jack's voice startled him.
“Yes, sir?”
“I’m sorry I’m late.”
There was a heartbeat of silence. “Me too.”
Continue to Part I
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-09-02 02:32 am (UTC)And I PROMISE to do the detailed feedback sooooon!
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Date: 2008-09-02 07:12 pm (UTC)I hope you enjoyed the story to its completion!
no subject
Date: 2008-09-04 03:16 am (UTC)*goes off to read the next part*