Title: The Lover's Breath
By: sqyd
Characters/Pairings: Jack/Ianto, team
Rating: PG
Warnings: angst, verging on AU
Thrace Warning Level 2.5
Word count: 4,500
Disclaimers: I don't own Torchwood or any of the characters. If I did, I'd take better care of them.
Summary: Jack and Ianto from the start. Cyberwoman to Small Worlds.
Beta: The amazing and tireless Rootesie. Naturally, I couldn’t stop messing with it. All mistakes are mine alone.
Notes: Follows A Stranger's Heart

*************************************

Just when it seems that all of Ianto's efforts, months of work and research are getting him somewhere, everything goes to hell. In the joy of seeing Lisa out of the machine, walking, breathing, he ignores that troubling feeling in the back of his head that tells him something's wrong. It's still Lisa there, but she's different, pain replaced with something else he doesn’t recognize. He wants to think it's a good thing, but then she goes on a rampage, and he can't think straight any more.

It is not how it's supposed to happen. Lisa isn't dangerous; she hasn’t even been able to breathe without the conversion unit. Dr. Tanazaki fixed that, but he is supposed to make her better, more human. Ianto can't accept the alternative, his mind screams against it. There is too much; too much going on. The oh-god-what-did-you-do? moment goes to we-can-fix-this to please-don't-let-them-get-hurt. The one thought he hangs onto till almost the very end is that he can't, mustn’t fail Lisa.

When the waves of anger, hurt, disappointment, accusations hit him from Jack, he won't, he can't take it. He pushes back, his grief, his desperation, the all-encompassing agony that he is. This is the end of everything, and there is no use hiding any more.

He’s going mad; his brain is on a never-ending feedback loop of guilt, rage and pain. He has killed two people. Tanazaki at least knew the risks involved, but Annie  was free of Ianto's sins, just an innocent bystander, she didn't deserve this. And it’s all for nothing; Lisa's gone. Ianto's risked everything, even destroying the world and he still failed Lisa. He just wants to stop thinking. He is grateful to Owen and his needle, and the numbness they bring. He falls asleep, and doesn't care if he'll wake up.

**************************

The Man Currently Known as Captain Jack Harkness

Jack's trying to figure out how the fuck they came to this. It was at the first time he pointed his Webley at Ianto's head that he realized he didn't know the other man at all. The shock of being blind-sided like that might have been behind his impulsive decision not to let the young man die from the hand of the Cyberman… woman, thing. Jack's now pointing his gun at Ianto's head for the second time, and this time he's almost certain he'll pull the trigger. He’s livid; Ianto used him, betrayed him, lied to him, and even now he’s defying him, daring him to shoot. Anger is nearly making him blind and he's about to meet Ianto's dare when the wave of pain and rage, the whole rubble of emotions crest over him, and the extent of his own ignorance really sinks in. For a moment he experiences a level of despair he hasn't felt for a long time, and he considers himself an expert on the subject. It's enough to steer his course away from homicide, and instead he sends Ianto down to deal with that thing alone. On second thought… it's probably the wrong thing to do, but he is still too angry to think rationally. Fuck. It's probably the wrong thing… most definitely it is. As much as he wanted to kill Ianto just minutes ago, he doesn't want to find out that the cyberbitch has done it for him. They don't wait the full ten minutes to rush down and finish this bloody business once and for all.

The young man is a mess and Jack leaves Owen to deal with him. The rest of them have cleanup to do, bodies to dispose, cover stories to fabricate, bloody floors to scrub, explanations to find. Looking at the CCTV footage, he begins to understand: he didn't see Ianto at all. He saw what he wanted to see: a pretty, accommodating, uncomplicated young man who was always on hand when needed and practically invisible otherwise. Sure, Ianto very deliberately arranged it so, but that doesn’t excuse Jack.

He failed Suzy and now he failed again. They're all his people, his responsibility. If he wanted to be bleak he'd say he recruited the people he did because they wouldn't be missed. Instead, he likes to tell himself that he gave them second chances. They were all a bit banged up, but he honestly thought that providing them with purpose would be enough. He missed it when Suzy took a wrong turn, and failed to protect her from herself. The ones who found him were the healthiest ones - or so he though. Like Gwen. Ianto seemed barely nicked. Jack should have known better; he should have known that no one could walk away from the slaughter of Canary Wharf with just a few scrapes.

It's very late by the time they are done with the cleanup and cover-up, and he sends them all home. Gwen and Tosh are hesitant to leave, scores of unasked questions flitting through their faces. Gwen opens her mouth, but Jack shoots her protests down before they start. It's a testament to her exhaustion that she obeys him, and walks through the cog door, with Tosh on her heels. Tosh gives him a pleading look before filing out. Owen’s harder to get rid of. The doctor stands his ground, feet apart, arms crossed, eyes narrowed to mean slits, clearly ready to fight to protect his patient - because no matter what, at his core Owen's always a doctor. A touch of fondness flickers through Jack.

"I'm not going to kill him, Owen," Jack voices what must have been on all their minds.

Owen's not persuaded. "He'll wake up in a few hours, probably with raging PTSD. Whatever demented plans you have for him, he'll be in no state to comply. Even prisoners of war have rights."

Jack could point out that Torchwood makes its own laws, but refrains. "I won't touch a hair on his head, Owen. I'll keep an eye on him, he can sleep it off, and when he's up tomorrow you can check him over." 

Reluctantly, Owen gives in.

By now the bulk of Jack's anger has evaporated, but not the bitterness eating his guts. He goes to the cells and lets himself into Ianto's. He crouches down against the wall, facing the prostrate figure on the bench. He watches Ianto, still as a corpse aside from his chest rising and falling at a sluggish pace. He’s never seen Ianto sleep. They fucked, even in Jack's bed a few times, but never spent the night together. It's been so simple, all of it, the sex was just sex, Ianto was simply available and willing. How could he be so bloody blind?

He really knows nothing about the real Ianto; only that he has severely underestimated him. Under the surface illusion of a simple young man lay a deviously deceptive, clever, resourceful mind, dogged determination, and a misdirected, but unshakable loyalty. To pull off what he did, right under their noses, was a remarkable feat. Jack has to admit that he is both impressed and intrigued. Those were talents and qualities that Torchwood, his Torchwood, could really use, if he could just aim them in the right direction. Unfortunately, he failed to spot them in time, and now Ianto is in danger of falling apart completely. Owen was right, Ianto probably has full-blown PTSD, even if he didn't beforehand, he'll have it now. Jack can't let him come apart for so many very good reasons, and a few bad ones, but above all because Ianto is his responsibility.

And there is the other thing: he had no idea Ianto had any psychic ability. Jack, like most in his time period, has basic abilities, but rarely uses them. Trying to enter an unwilling mind can do a lot of damage, and 21st century humans are not very evolved in this area. He suspects Ianto might be empathic. Empathy is the first psy skill the human race will widely develop. It’s mostly innocuous; it allows the empath hear the surface thoughts of others, generally mindless babble. It's more of a burden than a blessing if you can't control it, shut it out. Jack learned as a child how to do that. He'd have to deliberately drop those walls now. Having lived on Earth so long he might have gotten lax keeping his own thoughts to himself though. However, what Ianto did earlier that night was something completely different: he projected, and powerfully at that. It was the first time, and an emotionally charged moment. It seems Ianto can keep his own thoughts behind a wall, but might not be able keep others out.

What a bloody mess. He sighs. "Ianto Jones, what am I going to do with you?"

**************************

Jack leaves messages for Tosh and Gwen, telling them not to come in before noon. Gwen, of course, ignores him, so she's there when Ianto drags himself into the atrium, bleary-eyed. Jack sends Gwen out on a bullshit errand and she finally, reluctantly goes. Jack suspects that the last thing Ianto needs right now is all of them in the Hub with their raw emotions. Jack plans to get Ianto out of there, as soon as Owen checks him out. Thankfully, the doctor stumbles in uncharacteristically early.

**************************

When Ianto wakes he's not surprised to find himself in a cell, but stunned to find the cell door open. He doesn't know what it means. A test of some sort maybe. Harkness would do that; leave the option open for Ianto to run. He probably wouldn't get far though. Not that he has anywhere to go. All his carefully crafted escape plans for him and Lisa are pointless now. He gingerly lifts himself to his feet and shuffles out of the cell. He stops and looks around, trying to find a foothold in the present, to brace himself for whatever awaits him upstairs. He's pretty sure even Janet looks at him reproachfully.

He's numb. It's over, it's all over. The most appalling thing is that warped sense of freedom, the weight lifting off his shoulders. Gone is Lisa's presence from his mind, her pain. A part of him is glad that it's over, that he's free, and it's a terrible thing to admit. Part of him is glad that he doesn't have to plan, he never has to make a decision again, they'll be made for him.

His first stop is the showers. He strips off his clothes and shoves them all in the bin. He stands in the shower under almost scalding hot water, but no matter what, he cannot feel clean. Putting on his spare suit helps a little. It's his armor, it has the appearance of normalcy, it keeps his guts from spilling out. He finds an excuse to go up to the Tourist Office first. Finally, he can't stall any more, and he has to enter the atrium. Thankfully, it's mostly empty, there's only Gwen and the Captain upstairs, looking down at him through the glass wall. He can't look into Gwen's eyes, but can't afford to avoid the Captain's. A small nod's all he gets, all he needs. He grabs a bin liner and begins to clean up the rubbish.

Less than an hour later Owen shows up, and Ianto attempts to meld into his surroundings to avoid notice. No such luck. Owen drags him into the medical bay, muttering something about 'bloody Harkness'. He shines lights into Ianto’s eyes, prods him, pokes him, asks him questions about how he sleeps, what he dreams, what he eats. He wishes Owen would just shout at him, or at least be his usual prickly self, but he's as professional as he can possibly be. If he showed sympathy, Ianto would have to scream. He's relieved when the questions stop, and he's let go. Owen marches into the Captain's office.

Twenty minutes later the Captain motions for Ianto to follow. They get into the SUV, and drive in an uncomfortable silence. Ianto refuses to ask about their destination. He knows Torchwood protocol, but the Captain has already violated them by not summarily executing him, so anything could happen. He doesn’t believe the Captain to be a sadistic person, but he’s certainly unpredictable, and now that Ianto can't read him at all, he's definitely ominous. He doesn’t understand how the Captain can do that, but then there’s so little he really knows about the other man. Anything is possible when it comes to Captain Jack Harkness. Finding himself on his own doorstep is almost anticlimactic. They both enter Ianto's flat, but then the Captain gets a call about a Weevil and rushes off.

**************************

Back in his flat he doesn't know what to do with himself. He's never really lived here, it's been just a place to sleep and change clothes. In the light of day the place looks pathetic. He lies down on the sofa and commences falling to pieces.

He knows the passage of time only from the shadows moving across the floor. Streetlights filtering through the curtain are the only illumination when the Captain lets himself in, and switches the lights on. Ianto blinks blindly at the brightness suddenly flooding the room. 

He expects many things, a bullet in the brain mainly, maybe Retcon, if the Captain's feeling magnanimous. What he's not prepared for is to be offered a choice.

"All right, Jones," the Captain starts with an unreadable expression. "I'm offering you two options. First there is Retcon. I have enough with me for you to forget everything after you went to London."

Everything about the Captain is impassive; Ianto has no read on him at all.

"What If I say no?" A tiny rebellious spark in him still fights.

"Think carefully about it. We can create a cover story for you; you'd wake up in a hospital after a car accident. You'd have amnesia, and would feel lost for a little while, but it would eventually get better, and you could start over."

He considers it, dutifully running the scenarios through his head; him being a regular bloke, blameless, moving on with his life. Alluring and wholly undeserved.

"You would do all that for me: a guilt free way out. Why?"

"Would you believe if I said because I care?"

"No."

Jack shrugs. "Then take it as a compensation package for Canary Wharf."

"I don't want to live a lie."

"A little late for that."

Ianto clenches his jaws. "What's the other option?"

"You come back to work."

Ianto can only blink in disbelief, then he nods.

"It's not a reprieve. It won't be easy."

"I don't want to forget."

"You better be absolutely sure of it. I won't make this offer again."

"Would you do it, if it was you?" He doesn't quite intend it, but he seems to have hit a nerve. The Captain's eyes flash for a brief second.

"Fine. I'll be back tomorrow. You are on suspension till further notice. You'll do what I tell you to do. You follow the rules and toe the line. We'll talk. When I ask you questions you answer truthfully. No more lies."

Ianto nods. He doesn't want to talk. Ever. But it's not up to him.

Jack thrusts two medicine bottles at him. "Owen wants you to take one of these a day with a meal, and one, maximum two," he shakes the other bottle, "of these at bed time. They'll help you sleep."

**************************

Jack's not sure if he is glad or disappointed that Ianto hasn't taken his offer. People rarely surprise him any more. Ianto with his many secrets hidden behind his pretty suits is a challenge. Jack likes challenges. He needs to learn who this real Ianto is, to find out if he can put him back together enough to be safe to bring back into the team. If he’s dangerous or too damaged he'll Retcon him, deal or no deal. The young man's massive stubborn streak gives Jack hope. He suspects that stubbornness has saved Ianto many times in the past, just as it might get him killed one day.

At the beginning Jack just concentrates on the basics; making sure Ianto eats, leaves the flat every once in a while, and doesn't spend the whole day curled up on the sofa. For the first few days they barely speak. There is a stunned emotional void about Ianto that worries Jack, and he's relieved when it's replaced by white-hot searing rage radiating from the young man, mainly in Jack's direction. It's good. It means he's feeling something again. Eventually his defenses are back up; he still looks shaky, but his emotions are tucked away behind that neat little mental barrier of his. It's a different kind of silence than before, confirming his suspicions that Ianto's instincts to camouflage go deep. It's both good and bad. It means Ianto’s getting back to normal. Unfortunately, his "normal" is an indecipherable stranger, and Jack has no idea what's going on in his head. Jack could probably break through it, but that would be a very bad idea; it could cause damage, but most of all it could destroy any chance for the mutual trust he is trying to build. He'll have to take his time to approach that subject. He changes tack.

He brings Ianto assignments: They are designed to keep him busy, but also to gauge his abilities. Slowly they begin to talk; at first it's work, then they slide into other safe subjects, like books and movies. Things slowly shift between them; there's still an uneasy divide, but the routine of his visits brings a new kind of familiarity. Ianto doesn't look anymore like he wants to slam the door on him when he shows up; he might even look forward to it. Jack uses his conman skills to tease out little bits of the real Ianto. 

Ianto readily answers all questions regarding Torchwood London, recites all the details he knows of the events of its destruction with a blank face and a carefully controlled cadence. He reveals without hesitation every weak spot of Hub security that allowed him to smuggle a Cyberman inside. However, he doesn't like talking about his family. Jack can relate more than Ianto would believe, so he lets it drop.

**************************

Sometimes when Jack drops in at the end of a long day, tired, Ianto makes tea, and they just sit on the sofa in their odd truce. On other days Jack gets down to business. Looking into Ianto's files - the one they got via Torchwood One - and double-checking them he finds peculiar inconsistencies.

"There is absolute no record of you being arrested for shoplifting, or anything else," He begins.

"Ah." Ianto's eyelashes flutter, but he doesn't look away.

"Care to explain?"

Ianto hesitates for a second. "I made it up."

"You doctored your files?" His voice is more curious than accusing.

"I knew you'd get my file from Torchwood One. After the erm... events, security was compromised. I could easily get into the system."

"But why add shoplifting?"

"You like to hire people with faults, black marks on their records. It gives you the upper hand?" he ventures.

He stares at the young man in front of him incredulously. It has never occurred to him, but Ianto is right. Jack doesn't trust squeaky-clean people, because he doesn't know what makes them snap. With the damaged ones he knows where the fault lines lie. Or he used to think he did.

"So you never shoplifted?"

"I never got caught."

"Ianto, are there any other fabrications in here?"

"Nothing that would be contradicted by public records."

"You are very good at answering questions without answering them. Yes or No: Is anything hiding in there that will blow up in my face?"

"No sir." The mask drops for a second and Ianto looks pained.

"How about omissions? Your psych test results are missing. You're empath, aren't you?"

"Just barely." Ianto swallows nervously as he replies.

"Did you get any training?"

Ianto shakes his head.

"Not even shielding?"

"They didn't think it was necessary."

So typical of Yvonne Hartmann's operation, Jack fumes to himself.

"I could train you to shield, if you let me."

Ianto looks uneasy. "I don't like others in my head. It's really nothing, just how they want their coffee, stuff like that."

"The constant mental chatter must wear you out."

"I'm used to it. Torchwood London was noisy, but the Hub is much quieter. When I'm in the archives I can usually not hear anyone." At this point the tips of Ianto's ears turn red.

"Except me?"

The answer is a look of embarrassment.

It's Jack's turn to feel uncomfortable. Between his pheromones combined with his very active imagination and Ianto's empathy he might as well slipped him roofies. Nonconsensual sex has never been one of his kinks. He resolves to keep his libido to himself around Ianto from now on.

**************************

Sometimes innocent inquiries lead to unexpected results.

"How did you really find Myfanwy?" It's a benign enough question. The reply reminds him how fucking little he knows.

"She found me. She followed me from London. I used to take care of her up there, most of the time. I have no idea how she found me here."

"Torchwood London had a pterodactyl?"

"Pteranodon. Yes. I used to feed her. That's how I knew about the chocolate."

"Why would a junior researcher be feeding a dinosaur?"

"From an administrative point of view Myfanwy was an artefact, part of the Archives, and who but the lowest ranking personnel there should take care of her?"

"So you used her to get to me?"

Ianto has the decency to look abashed. "It was my last chance, and even if I failed, I knew at least she'd be taken care of," Ianto admits.

Jack hasn't intended it, but they have just taken a shortcut to the heart of the matter. He might as well ask the real question now.

"So tell me Ianto, what on Earth were you thinking?"

The question is vague enough that Ianto could choose evasion. He doesn't.

"I thought once I fixed her, it would all be forgiven, and even if not, it wouldn't matter."

"You realize, she died back in London, the thing you bought here was a machine using her memories to manipulate you?"

Ianto shakes his head slowly.

"Sir, with all due respect, you're wrong." He halts, and then continues in a softer voice, "I know I fucked up, but I also know for certain that she was in there. I could feel her."

"Cybermen have been known to use mind control."

"She didn't control me. All mistakes were my own. She was in there... all the way till Dr. Tanazaki did something to her. She felt different after that, I just couldn't accept it."

Jack could argue, but he leaves it. Instead he lets Ianto explain the intricacies of the care and feeding of a pteranodon.

**************************

He watches Ianto return from suspension and throw himself into cleaning up the mess they've made in his absence. He keeps himself busy, but avoids the others as much as possible. At the end of each day he brings Jack a cup of tea or coffee - even without reading his thoughts, Ianto always knows what he's in the mood for. Ianto Jones, nothing if not perceptive. They sit together for a half an hour or so, sort through the day's paperwork. Jack's not sure of Ianto's motivations, whether it’s penance, a show of obedience, or just the comfort of routine. There’s a quiet rapport to it that they didn't have back when they were shagging like rabbits.

In principle, there are still restrictions in place on Ianto, what he can access, what time he can enter the Hub, and when he has to leave. They are for his own benefit really, but nobody is keeping him to them any more. So Jack's not too surprised to find Ianto there, working, at an hour when the Hub should be empty. Jack chides him lightly, but doesn't send him away. Things are still awkward between them, but they've turned smoother. On a few occasions Ianto even lets his mask fall - like just right now. He's so young and vulnerable for a second that Jack has the urge to bundle him up, comfort him the way he knows best. In his own time it would be the right thing to do, but not in this backward age that insists on twisting guilt around sex at every chance. So all he allows himself is a single hand on Ianto's shoulder, in hopes of conveying his intent. It's like touching a live wire.

**************************

It comes with his immortality that Jack ends up leaving people behind. Estelle has been one of them. At least looking after her, even from behind a lie, has eased the guilt somewhat. Not completely though, and her death is a bitter reminder of his failings.

He has to let Jasmine go. He doesn't have an alternative. The others of course can't accept it. They expect him to be able to pull last minute miracles out of his sleeves. Sadly, he can't, and they can't forgive him for it. During the drive back to the Hub he could cut the tension in the car with a knife. None of them would look at him or talk to him. He goes into his office and slams the door, to bury himself into paperwork while they leave one by one. Silence envelops the Hub.

He thinks he's alone, so he is surprised at the sound of familiar light steps entering his office. On the silver tray Ianto's balancing two cups and some paperwork, like on any other evening. Why should he even be surprised that when everyone else snubs him, the one man to show him solicitude is the one who has the most reason to hate him? Ianto sits down on the other side of the desk, and there is a flicker of an uncertain smile.

"They all hate me, don't they?" Jack asks.

"They think they do," Ianto admits. "They'll realize you had no choice, and will come around." He adds.

"Is that so?"

Ianto stares into his cup for a very long moment before looking up again.

"That's it, isn't it? It's your job to do what needs to be done, no matter how hard it is, or how much you'll be hated for it. I get that now."

"It's part of the job."

"It's not fair, is it?"

"Life rarely is."

Ianto just nods, and the silence of everything unsaid stretches out between them. They go on, doing the paperwork as always. When Ianto collects the empty cups and the signed papers Jack grasps his wrist. Ianto's eyes flitter at Jack for a second, but he remains very still, waiting.

"I'm sorry." Jack says. He doesn't say for what he's sorry, he's not sure himself - unfairness of life perhaps. He lets go, but Ianto remains still for the moment.

"Me too." He whispers before moving again. He leaves as quietly as he came.

**************************

Next story in series - Skin of Your Teeth