Title: I Don't Want to Hear Any More
By: Anduria Trianys
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the fictional universes or characters. I'm just borrowing them temporarily for a bit of a laugh.
Summary: 'You can carry on , we all can. The end is where we start from.' Jack said that at the end of 'Exit Wounds', but what happens when he finds that he can't cope? Song-fic to I Don't Want to Hear Any More, by the Eagles.

***

"Jack?" said Ianto quietly. "Er...well, I wondered...can I just call my Mam? I just...I just want to know that she's alive and safe...and she needs to know that I'm safe too."

Jack stared at him. "Of course you can," he exclaimed. "You don't even have to ask."

"I might be on for a while; I've not...you know -"

"Don't worry, Ianto. I'll wait in the kitchen so you can have some privacy; just take your time." He gently stroked Ianto's hair before moving into the kitchen, where he leaned against the worktop with a deep sigh. He could hear Ianto's tired voice on the phone, but, try as he might, he couldn't stop himself from thinking about what had happened.

Tosh had died in his arms, right there on the floor of the autopsy bay; the territory of the man she had loved, Owen Harper. She had played her part; faithful and selfless right to the end. She really was a true heroine...and she was so special.

Owen...God, but it was almost impossible to think of Tosh without thinking of Owen too. He did have his faults, Jack of all people knew that, but it didn't stop him from being a good person at heart, not to mention a brilliant medic. Even after everything Torchwood had thrown at him - everything Jack had put him through after he'd been shot - he'd come through, eventually, stronger than ever. But that was Owen; like Tosh, he had a hidden strength that hardly anyone saw, until it was too late.

Owen, Tosh, Jack thought to himself, you were the best and I'll never forget you. I can't imagine how we're going to replace you...

Replacing them...God, but it had barely been a day since they'd died. They didn't even have Owen's body so they couldn't even say a proper goodbye to him and they'd barely had the chance to say a proper goodbye to Tosh; she was just locked in the morgue along with Suzie and the other members of Torchwood who had died over the years.

How could he even think about replacing Owen and Tosh when they were barely cold in their graves? The thought had no place coming into his mind at this point.

But it had and he knew that it had to be done, no matter how much it hurt. The question was would they be strong enough to do it?

Sighing, he blindly opened a draw and drew out two white candles and a box of matches. His hand trembled as he lit them both, the flame sending a soft glow through the room.

"Tosh, Owen," he whispered breathlessly, "thank you."

A drop of water fell onto the worktop and Jack blinked suddenly as he realised that he was crying. He wiped his eyes angrily, but more and more tears fell until he was sobbing outright, his face buried on the hard surface beneath him.

"I'm sorry," he choked, "Tosh...Owen...I'm so sorry. I wish I could have saved you. I'm so sorry; this is all my fault...I promised to save you and...and I failed you...all of you."

"No," whispered a soft voice behind him. Jack turned to find Ianto watching him. "You didn't fail them, Jack; you didn't fail anyone. You heard what Tosh said on that message; if anything, you were the one who saved her - just like you saved me."

He squeezed Jack's arm and opened the same drawer with the candles inside. "Come here," he said softly as he lit another one and stood it beside Owen and Tosh's. "You did that for me...and now it's my turn to do it for you."

"What do you mean?" asked Jack wearily. "Who's that one for?"

"It's for Gray," answered Ianto simply. "You comforted me when you lit that candle for Lisa; it's only fair that I light one for your brother."

Jack moved as if to stroke Ianto's hair, only to frantically pull him into his arms and hold him tightly. "What are we going to do?" he choked, feeling his tears falling again.

"We're going to get through this," said Ianto simply. "We're going to stay together and...and we're going to hold on and we're going to carry on; all of us...together, just as...just as you said we can carry on. It's like you said, Jack; the end...the end is where..." but he couldn't carry on as he started sobbing. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

Jack stroked Ianto's hair gently. "No...no, baby," he gasped. "Don't be sorry; it's okay; you've lost two of your best friends and your team mates...just let it go. I'm right here."

"We're going to be all right," gasped Ianto, still trying to be strong, even as he cried his heart out. "I promise, Jack; we're going to be all right. We're going to get through this."

Later that night, when they were lying in bed, Jack rubbed his cheek against Ianto's bare shoulder and kissed his forehead gently. He was right.

"We are going to get through this. I'm sure of it."

Ianto stirred and planted a kiss on Jack's lips. "Of course we are."

Two months later, however, Jack wasn't so sure. Martha was now a part of the team, replacing Owen as the resident medic. She had been recruited two weeks after the event; they knew they should have done it sooner, but none of them could bring themselves to. Even two weeks seemed too soon, especially since they still didn't have Owen's body.

They didn't, however, have a replacement for Tosh, with Jack and Ianto teaming up to do her job. The official reason was that they hadn't found anyone to do her job yet, but really, everyone knew that they just didn't want to replace her. The only reason that Martha had joined was that they needed a doctor, since none of them were good enough with first aid - or autopsies - to take on the job themselves. Replacing Owen had been hard, but it was necessary. Replacing Tosh would be impossible.

Interestingly, Gwen had been coping better than everyone since the events. Rhys had been a rock for her when she had needed him the most and it seemed that, after her initial breakdown, she was coming to terms with what had happened and trying to move on. Having Martha there had also seemed to help; the girls were really clicking as friends.

Jack was pleased to see her getting on with her life, but, even though he knew that he should try and do the same, he couldn't. He had tried, God knows he had tried, but he just couldn't do it. Knowing that he would live forever while everyone he loved or cared about died was impossible to bear; it was worse than dying. Apart from when the team was at work, the only person he would talk to or be near to was Ianto. He was the only one who could even begin to get through to him; Gwen and Martha had both tried, but each time they did, Jack would just clam up completely. Eventually, Gwen had all but taken over leadership of the team, since Jack was all but broken down.

Ianto wasn't faring much better either. At first, he would at least talk to the rest of the team outside of work, but he was changing too. As much as he tried to tell everyone that things would get better and that they would get through this, it gradually grew more and more obvious that he was trying to convince himself as much as anyone else. Still, he was at least talking and mingling more than Jack, which was something at least.

However, when Gwen approached him and asked him to be her second-in-command, things began to change. Ianto stared at her for a minute and then started to laugh.

"What are you talking about?" he asked. "Jack's our boss and you're his second-in-command; unless the second needs a second herself." He tried to make the joke, but it fell completely flat and both of them knew it.

Gwen sighed. "Ianto, Jack is in no condition to be leading us," she said. "Look at him - he's not been himself since Owen and Tosh died. You know that, you can see it. I know you care about him, but you can't let that cloud your judgement. He's not our leader any more - he's a broken man now, Ianto. It's time for him to take a step back."

"He's grieving, Gwen. Can't you see that?"

"We're all grieving, Ianto. I've lost a former lover and a friend. It hurts, I won't deny it, but we've got to move on. I'm sorry, but it's for the best. He can't lead us in his state."

Ianto felt his anger rise in his chest, but he forced himself to speak calmly. "I know we're all grieving, Gwen, but you can't just expect him to move on like that. I don't expect him to. It's not fair to expect that of him; he lost half of his team in one go. You were right next to him when he held Tosh as she died in his arms."

He took a deep breath. "I hear what you're saying, Gwen, I really do, but you can't just cast him aside. We need to help him - we can get him through this. And, to answer your original question, no; I'm not going to be your second-in-command. If you really want someone to do it, you can ask Martha. I doubt she'll mind."

Gwen grabbed his arm. "What about you, Ianto? You're hardly coping with this as it is. I know you're putting on a strong façade, but I can tell that, inside, you're falling apart."

"I'm fine, Gwen," protested Ianto, shaking her off. "Really, I'm okay. I just need a little space. Go home; spend some time with Rhys, or go out with Martha. It's been ages since the two of you had a good girl's night out, hasn't it?"

The words were barely out of her mouth when Martha herself appeared from Jack's office. "Ianto's right," she said. "Come on, Gwen; we need a night out." She took Gwen's hand and half-dragged her out of the Hub. Gwen looked reluctant at first, but then Martha said something which caused her to explode with laughter.

Ianto flashed the doctor a grateful smile as the two women disappeared from view. He considered going up to see Jack, but decided against it; the older man needed space. Instead, he sat down at his desk and started to sort through some of his paperwork.

As he did so, however, something caught his eye underneath the piles of notes and forms. He ran his hand over it; it was hard and cold, unlike the soft papers before him. Sifting through them, the young man found the object and picked it up cautiously. He was half expecting to find himself holding a piece of alien tech or something.

But it wasn't alien. It was completely human; it was a photo frame with a picture in it. Ianto looked down and his breath caught as he realised what the picture was.

It had been taken at Gwen's wedding by one of the bridesmaids and showed the whole team and Rhys standing together in the garden as the sun set. The happy couple were in the front, smiling as if there was no tomorrow. Tosh was beside Gwen, waving the bouquet and clearly in fits of laughter as Owen was tickling her sides. On the other side, Rhys' side, Jack was striking a heroic looking pose with a massive smile on his face as he scooped Ianto up in his arms and planted a huge kiss on his lips. As for Ianto himself, it was hard to tell, but he had been grinning like a lunatic through that kiss, even though he was doing his best to look irritated with Jack, who had tossed his jacket onto the grass.

Suddenly, the images of Owen and Tosh seemed to fade and blur slightly. Ianto looked around in fright and was about to check the Rift activity predictor when he registered the hitch in his breath and the tightness in his chest and realised that it wasn't anything alien causing the images to blur, but instead it was something as human as his own tears. Unlike Jack had on the night that...everything had changed, he made no effort to brush them away, and instead buried his face in his hands and let them fall.

The picture slowly dropped to the ground.

It wasn't long before he felt a firm but gentle hand on his shoulder and even less time before he felt himself being pulled into a caring embrace. He looked up slightly to see a pair of concerned blue eyes staring at him. But he found that he couldn't look at them for long as he collapsed against Jack's chest, clutching at his shirt.

"I can't do this, Jack," he sobbed. "I'm sorry; I thought I could, but...I can't."

"I know." Jack's voice was breaking above him. "I know, baby." He held onto Ianto for a while, stroking his hair and rubbing his back, before pulling away and looking at him. "Take this," he said quietly, slipping a white envelope into Ianto's hand.

"What is it?" asked Ianto, trying to dry his eyes. "Jack, what's going on?"

Jack looked at him sadly. "I'm sorry," he whispered, before drawing him close for the sweetest and most tender kiss Ianto had ever felt. "I'm so sorry," he repeated as he turned away and walked out of the Hub without looking back once.

Confused, tired and upset, Ianto opened the envelope and emptied the contents onto the desk. His mouth dropped open; he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing.

There were several small white pills lying before him; Retcon, it was Retcon. A quick estimate led him to the conclusion that there was enough there for him to forget Torchwood, including his time at Torchwood London.

But there was something else in there too. It was soft and light. Ianto didn't even have to pull it out of the envelope to know what it was. He just withdrew his hand and pocketed the envelope without a word as he looked at the tablets...the chance to forget, to make a new start with his life.

He moved to pick two of them up, when he happened to glance at the CCTV camera which was directed to the front of the tourist office.

"I love you, Jack," he whispered as he went for some water.

Gwen and Martha would find him later, asleep on the sofa, curled up under his coat.

Five months later, Dublin.

The young man wandered down the street, knowing that he was attracting several appreciative glances from men and women alike. He ignored them all; he was here for one reason, and that reason was right in front of him.

Taking a deep breath, he opened the door to the club and went inside, barely pausing to look around properly as he found himself a seat at the back of the room. A moment later, a man, probably in his early thirties, came up to him with a smile.

"Mind if I join you?" he asked. When Ianto shook his head, the man sat down. "You look good - pale pink's a great colour on you." He looked at him appreciatively before adding, "Nice jeans too, if you don't mind me saying so."

Ianto bit his lip. He didn't want to seem rude, but when the man had commented on his jeans, his mind had flipped back to when he'd last worn them; the night that he had first met Jack and helped him subdue that Weevil and he found that he couldn't speak as the memories washed over him. Had it really been over two years now?

"Hey." The man was speaking again. "Are you all right?"

Ianto blinked hard and wiped his eyes. "Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry; did you say something?"

"Nothing important, just wondering what brought you here. You're Welsh, aren't you?"

"Oh, I just wanted to travel and a friend tipped me off about this place, that's all. Don't worry; I've not got a hidden agenda or anything." He cringed slightly at the lie, but his companion seemed convinced. "What about you; have you been here long?"

"My dad owns this place; it's been passed down from father to son. I'll take it on when he dies." He suddenly grinned and started clapping. "You've picked a good night, you know; we got a new singer about three months back - wonderful voice, he has. Said it took him two months to track us down, though why he was so desperate to come here, I'm sure I'll never know, when there were dozens of other places he could've gone to."

Ianto nodded vaguely, but he wasn't really listening. He was too transfixed by the man who was standing on the stage, speaking to the audience. He wasn't really listening to what he was saying either, but he didn't have to. He knew, from the moment he saw him, he knew that this was him. It was his Jack. He hadn't changed a bit; not in height or looks; he hadn't even changed his clothes.

Suddenly, the music started and a few moments later, Jack began to sing, the song he had chosen hauntingly familiar.

"It's not the first time that I had the sense that something's wrong.

But I'm old enough to know that things don't always work out like they should.

I know you're trying hard to break it gently to me now.

But there's no easy way to tell it like it is,

So, baby,

I don't want to hear any more.

You don't need to tell me it's over;

I've been here before."

"Did you hear what he said?" Ianto's companion was asking excitedly. "Before he started singing, he said that this was a song that was very special to him and one day, he's hoping to find out why that is."

"Really?" said Ianto, hoping he sounded interested. He couldn't look around though, and not just because all of his attention was focused on Jack. He didn't want anyone to see that he was dangerously close to crying. But his companion was far too observant.

"Hey," he said, "are you sure you're okay? You seem upset."

"I'm fine; I just remembered my mum singing this once." The memory of his mother, who he hadn't spoken to for seven months, brought fresh tears to his eyes. He felt guilty for having to lie about her when he hadn't been in contact with her for so long; not since Owen and Tosh had died. She probably didn't even know if he was alive. "It was one of her favourite songs," he said quickly. That, actually, was true; but it had become a favourite after she had heard him and Jack singing it to her. At that thought, he couldn't stop a single tear running down his cheek. Fortunately, his friend didn't say anything and just handed him a tissue before patting him on the shoulder. "Sorry," he murmured.

"Hey, don't be sorry; you obviously miss her very much. If you need to cry, just cry."

Ianto gulped. The Irishman had obviously assumed that his mother was dead, but his words had brought back several more memories. He nodded vaguely at him and forced himself not to think of Tosh as he wiped his eyes and drew his attention back to Jack.

"I've seen that look before - I know it well.

It comes as no surprise.

You've been avoiding me, but now you want to talk it over.

Before you take my hand and tell me softly in a whisper,

There's no need to explain - I've read the book.

I know how this all ends."

"But it doesn't end," whispered Ianto, now openly crying. "It doesn't end...it doesn't end. Both of us know that." He wasn't sure whether he was talking about the pain in his heart, or the love that he felt for the man standing there. Perhaps it was both.

"I don't want to hear any more.

You don't need to tell me it's over;

I've been here before.

I won't ask you to stay.

I won't stand in your way.

Look me right in the eye,

Let me walk away with my head high."

It was too much. Almost without stopping to think, Ianto had shrugged the man's hand from his shoulder, jumped to his feet and taken to the stage. This earned him several shocked looks from the patrons but he ignored them and calmly took the second microphone beside Jack and started to sing with him, at the same time as he pressed a small white handkerchief into Jack's hand.

"If there's some other guy,

I don't need to know why.

But I don't want to hear any more.

You don't need to tell me it's over;

I've been here before."

Jack stared at him in shock. "I - Ianto?" he exclaimed.

Ianto nodded. "Hi, Jack," he said shyly. "I'm here." When Jack didn't reply, but simply gaped at him like a goldfish, he smiled. "It's okay; you're not going mad. I'm here. But I have to ask; how did you find Torchwood Four? We all thought it had gone missing."

"Well, it was surprisingly obvious, really," answered Jack. "It was just process of elimination; we had one branch in England, Scotland and...Wales, so it seemed logical that the fourth one would be in Ireland. I just can't believe no one else thought of it." He shook himself. "But that's not the point. How - how are you...even here?"

"I didn't take the Retcon," said Ianto simply. "I couldn't do it; no matter how bad the memories were, it wasn't worth losing you. I know you took it, though, so you could forget Torchwood Three. That was why you left the handkerchief."

"But why didn't you -?"

"I couldn't. I was going to, but just before I did, I saw you on the CCTV cameras. You were standing outside the tourist office, crying. I couldn't have stopped you from taking the Retcon and I wouldn't have tried to." He smiled as Jack looked shocked. "Yes, Jack; I realised that you took it before you left, when you gave me the envelope. But it's okay. I knew that you needed to forget, if only temporarily, so you could find some peace, if nothing else. But I knew I didn't want to forget you and that I would find you again one day. So, I took the sleeping tablets that were in that envelope and curled up on the sofa."

Jack was openly crying now. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Hey, don't. Don't apologise. I already told you, I understand why you did it and I wouldn't have stopped you, even if I could have." He leaned up and stroked Jack's hair. "Now come on; you've got a song to finish here." He smiled at the musicians behind him.

Jack looked surprised, but he smiled slightly as he caressed Ianto's cheek, looking straight at him as he sang quietly, his breath hitching on the words.

"I won't ask you to stay.

I won't stand in your way."

Ianto gasped. He'd forgotten that those were the next words of the song and looking at Jack's face, he clearly expected to be left alone again after this. Well, that wasn't going to happen, that was for sure. Stepping closer, he wrapped his arm around Jack's waist and drew him close to him, swaying them on the spot as he breathed out the next line, looking straight into Jack's eyes, silently telling him that he wasn't going anywhere now.

"And I don't want to hear anymore."

"No, no, baby," whispered Jack, half-singing and half-speaking as he cradled Ianto close to him in a way that he thought he never would again as he waited for the younger man to join in with him for the final words. "I don't want to hear anymore."

The applause was louder than he had experienced for a long time.

***