Author: Milady Dragon
Rating: PG-13, for language and adult themes
Summary: The first time Ianto Jones saw the Angel, it was on his first day working at Torchwood Three...
Pairing(s): Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones
Warning: Sexual situations, suicidal thoughts, depression, character death (canon)
Spoilers: For Torchwood S1 "Cyberwoman"; "Countrycide"; "Captain Jack Harkness"; "End of Days"; Torchwood S2 "Adam:; "Fragments"; "Exit Wounds"; the radio play "The Dead Line"; "Children of Earth"
Author's note: This was written to combat the depression caused by CoE. Otherwise I won't acknowledge that it happened.
Disclaimer: I don't own Torchwood, or else certain things that did happen never would have. It is owned by the BBC and was created (and destroyed) by Russell T. Davies.
The first time Ianto Jones saw the Angel, it was on his first day working at Torchwood Three.
He was walking toward the Tourist Office that he knew was the front for the Cardiff-based Torchwood, his heart hammering so hard in his chest he could barely breathe. He’d done so much to achieve this goal…and now saving Lisa was within his grasp.
The first day of a new life.
But then, he saw the Angel.
She stood just next to the door leading into the Tourist Office. At first it didn’t register to Ianto what he was seeing; he thought it was just someone waiting for the office to open. But as he walked closer he realized that this wasn’t an ordinary woman. She was tall, perhaps a head taller than Ianto himself, wearing a long blue dress. Her black hair fell to her waist, and she was looking at him with eyes the same color as her dress. And her wings…they arched over her head like white clouds on a summer day.
And she was weeping.
His nervousness was banished in the face of the overwhelming sadness in the Angel’s eyes. Ianto’s own prickled in response, and he moved closer, any sort of fear of this ethereally beautiful woman instantly gone. For that one moment, all he could think of was comforting her, and it didn’t matter that he was actually very much out of his depth at that moment.
But then the door to the Tourist Office flew open, and his new boss appeared.
“An early riser,” Captain Jack Harkness smirked, making those three words sound as salacious as he possibly good. “I like that.”
Ianto straightened, his face warming slightly. “I certainly didn’t expect this sort of greeting, sir.” He turned back to where the Angel was standing.
She was gone.
The second time Ianto saw the Angel, it was on what he thought was the worst night of his life.
He lay on Captain Jack’s bed, the older man half on top of him, his boss’s soft breathing tickling his ear. Ianto himself couldn’t sleep; he was far too ashamed and guilty for that. He tried to reason with himself, that he’d done what he’d had to, to keep Harkness from finding Lisa down in the catacombs under the Hub. He’d had to create a distraction, and this had been all he could come up with on short notice.
It didn’t help that he’d actually wanted to. That made it all so much worse.
The Angel appeared from the shadows, her wings glowing softly. He’d forgotten about her; in all the plotting and stress and putting up with Harkness’s shit, Ianto had completely forgotten about seeing her that first day of work. He remembered now…remembered seeing her weeping as if her heart would burst from it.
She wasn’t weeping now, though. Her unearthly face was smiling gently, as she looked down upon the two men on the too-small bed. Ianto would have been deeply embarassed by her scrutiny if he hadn’t been so surprised at her presence.
And then, Jack shifted slightly, snorting quietly as he came awake.
And once again, the Angel was gone.
The Angel came again, and this time it was at the lowest point in Ianto’s existence.
He’d been suspended, of course. Hell, Ianto was surprised he hadn’t been retconned. That would have been a mercy though; the mercy of forgetfulness. To forget the horrible pain and emptiness in his heart, now that Lisa was gone.
Ianto mourned in silence. He was in too much agony to make a sound. As he sat in his flat, trying to numb his mind with alcohol and television, Ianto could only see the horrible aftermath of what he’d done.
It would have been so much better if he’d died at Canary Wharf.
Or…it would have been so much better if Harkness had put a bullet through his brain.
The Angel stood next to his sofa. She looked down at Ianto with eyes full of sadness and regret. Not what he’d been expecting, but then he hadn’t expected her to be there, either. Why wasn’t she disgusted with him? He wanted to rage with it, wanted to demand that this impossible creature be furious with him.
But she wouldn’t. He might not know exactly what she was, but someone Ianto knew she’d never condemn him or be angry at him.
With a small rustle of feathers, the Angel was sitting next to him, taking Ianto into her arms.
He wept on that kind shoulder, but when the morning finally came he found himself alone once more.
The Angel didn’t appear again, until that business with the cannibals.
Ianto hadn’t realized it was possible to be that terrified. Not even Canary Wharf had frightened as much.
This time, the Angel appeared as Captain Jack drove that tractor through the wall and began shooting. She was angry, so very angry….it radiated from her like a thunderstorm, and yet Ianto knew it wasn’t aimed at him. It was for the ones who’d hurt him, the ones that Jack was mowing through so efficiently.
If Ianto had been in any less pain, he might have actually appreciated the sight.
His Avenging Angel.
Although, when he thought back on it, he couldn’t decide if he meant the woman…or Jack.
Her ghostly touch on his shoulder was a comfort, a balm to the physical pain. He looked up at her and smiled, and the Angel’s blue eyes were full of that same sadness as before…but also there was love, a love that soothed him in its unconditionaless.
“What are you smiling at?”
Ianto’s gaze was torn from his Angel. Jack stood there , looking a little puzzled.
“Nothing really, sir,” he answered softly.
Out of the corner of his eye, he could still see her. His Angel stayed with him, this time.
It wasn’t until Jack and Tosh had vanished that Ianto saw his Angel once more.
She stood and watched as he shot Owen, to try to keep him from opening the Rift. He saw the understanding in her eyes, as Ianto chose the world over his love for Jack Harkness. Yes, he could admit to himself that he loved his Captain, although he didn’t fool himself into thinking it was reciprocated.
And it didn’t matter what Owen said…Jack did need him, although not in the way the other man intimated. Ianto knew things…secrets that Jack had trusted him with, and no one else.
Of course, Ianto had his own secret.
He hadn’t expected to see her again so soon.
But then, he hadn’t expected to hurt again like this.
Ianto was in Jack’s office. He stood there, holding Jack’s greatcoat and feeling that terrible, aching loss in his chest, and it was so much worse than when Lisa had died.
Jack was dead.
Jack was dead.
Ianto held that coat to his face, smelling Jack in its heavy folds. The pain was so bad he couldn’t even cry.
His Angel was there, though.
Ianto met her eyes. Instead of seeing the sadness that he’d been sure was there, she was smiling. Her hands moved, folding themselves over her heart.
And somehow, in that gesture, Ianto knew Jack would be okay.
He would just have to wait.
Ianto had managed to survive one month without Jack.
If he could call it survival.
He’d done all he could to handle Jack’s disappearance. He’d tried to live on, to do his job, to pretend that he wasn’t dying inside. The others had found some sort of comfort in their anger at Jack’s leaving so soon after coming back from the dead, but Ianto had simply withdrawn into his duties and let them at it.
But nothing he’d done had worked.
It had been ridiculously easy to get the gun from the armory. But then, he was probably the only person – outside of Jack, of course – who had every single code for every single lock in the Hub. No one really paid that much attention to him anyway…unless they were bitching about needing coffee. To be fair, Tosh had…but then, he and Tosh had always been a little closer. She’d suspected how Ianto really felt about Jack.
Her pity hadn’t helped at all.
So now, one month into Jack’s disappearance, Ianto sat on the floor of his flat, back against the sofa, holding the gun in his hands and wondering just how badly it would hurt. Not that it really mattered, any pain would be insignificant to what he was feeling now.
His Angel was beside him.
Ianto could feel her, although he refused to look at her. She’d been with him the entire time, as he’d taken the gun and had cheerfully said good night to the people who should have been his friends. They’d accepted that farewell at face value, fitting knowing what he’d had planned for the night.
A long fingered hand rested on the gun, stilling Ianto’s nervous movements.
His eyes went to her, then. Those blue eyes were regarding him closely, as if trying to read his soul. He flinched away, not wanting to see what she was feeling.
“I can’t live like this,” he whispered. “Please forgive me.”
He honestly couldn’t say why he wanted her forgiveness. His Angel had been a part of his life for a long time now. He wondered what would happen to her if he died.
She knelt in front of him, and Ianto still couldn’t look at her. That ethereal hand reached out and touched his face, that ghost touch on his fevered skin forcing his eyes up and into her own.
Her pain made him flinch.
“He left,” Ianto tried to explain, although he knew she was well aware of what had happened. “I always knew that he didn’t feel the same for me that I did for him, but this…”
His Angel nodded slowly. Then she pulled back, resting her folded hands over her heart.
It was the same gesture that she’d used to tell Ianto that Jack would be back from the dead.
“I…I’m not sure I want him to come back,” he confessed.
Her eyes were sympathetic. She made the gesture again, and then she reached across the space of his knees and the gun and touched his own heart. Then she shook her head, and Ianto interpreted that to mean that he shouldn’t give up, that she would always be there for him.
She shook her head again. Then she held her hand out, palm upward.
Ianto knew what she was asking.
He handed her the gun.
Ianto didn’t see her for a long time after that.
But he knew she was there, standing beside him.
And then he saw her again, and this time was a witness to her wrath.
Although, he would never remember it, because he’d had to forget everything about Adam.
He did find a white feather in the cells, and he wondered how it had gotten there.
She was there once more, to help him mourn Tosh and Owen.
Ianto stood at the computer, closing out their files. His Angel stood at his shoulder, her presence a comfort to him. He wondered if they’d had Angels, if they’d been seen them and had been cared for by them as much as his Angel had cared for him.
He hoped so. He truly hoped so.
Ianto couldn’t stand the idea of them not having this support as they’d died.
His Angel looked at him, and nodded.
It helped him to click that final “Yes” on the computer.
She stood there in the hospital, watching as Ianto sat in vigil over Jack.
As upset as Ianto was over his Captain being in this condition, he was just as angry at Jack for being so monumentally stupid as to pick that that damned phone, knowing that somehow those phones had caused other people to fall into comas. Jack just thought he was so bloody invincible, and he really wasn’t.
The man just didn’t think sometimes.
He didn’t think how this affected others. How this affected Ianto.
Ianto glanced up, and once again His Angel made that gesture that said Jack would be back. He took that comfort…and began to speak.
“I’m not much of a talker…”
The last time he saw his Angel, Ianto was dying in Jack’s arms.
“I love you…”
Ianto knew what Jack had meant by that, that Jack wasn’t denying the feeling, only the need to say it now. But if he didn’t…when?
His Angel stood there, the light from the 456’s tank glittering in her wings. She smiled softly down at him, as Ianto felt the alien virus killing him.
It is time.
He heard her voice at last; a sad sound, like a single violin in the vastness of space. She reached her hand down to him, and as he died his heart shattered, to be leaving Jack this broken.
And he was standing beside his Angel, as Jack finally succumbed to the virus himself, his arm draped over Ianto’s physical body as if he never wanted to let go.
The sight broke his heart once more.
His Angel took his hand.
“Will I ever see him again?”
Soon… was her response.
The first time Jack Harkness saw the Angel, he was standing on a hill overlooking the lights of Cardiff.
Gwen was crying. Jack hated that he’d made her cry, but he couldn’t have left Earth without saying goodbye to her. She was his last tie there, and it was only right that he tell her, so she wouldn’t look for him.
It hurt that he couldn’t love her enough to stay.
As he pressed the button on his vortex manipulator, to signal the ship waiting out there in space, Jack saw the Angel.
It was a young man, dressed in charcoal colored trousers with matching waistcoat. A red shirt and black tie completed the immaculate ensemble. The large white wings glowed softly in the dark.
And, as the beam caught Jack and took him away from the source of his pain, his Angel smiled.