Born This Way - Chapter 33
Sep. 8th, 2012 09:12 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
madbottomsTitle: Born This Way 33
Characters/Pairings: Jack/Ianto, John, Gray, Owen, Toshiko/Tommy, Suzie, OCs
Rating: NC-17
Warnings/Contains: Supernatural themes, character death, drug references.
Summary: Sequel to Choices - Ianto Jones was born and raised in Hell, but he isn’t feeling as demonic as usual lately—thanks to Jack Harkness. But you can’t desert Hell without consequences and suddenly Ianto’s and Jack’s happily ever after may not be so happy.
Notes: My PC is screen is still slowly expiring. The contrast is doing my head in; I think I may go blind. J A little more sadness in this part, but you may want to throttle Jack a little, maybe John, too. Oh what the hell, let’s smack Ianto for good measure.
33
*~*
Tears in Heaven
*~*
Jack
I spend the next five days numb. People come and go, I think. There are blurred images of Tosh and Tommy. In them, Tommy looks almost as numb as I feel. A piece of me wants to reach out to him—that piece of me that remembers losing Gray.
But I don’t.
Mum brings food, but I can’t eat. The more she pushes it, the deeper into myself I withdraw. I hear mumbling in the hall—Mum? John? Dad?—I’m not really sure, and I think Mum might be yelling, but I don’t care enough to try to listen. There might be police…maybe.
The days go by in a blur of images, just out of focus, and at the end of them, I’m dressed in black, sitting in a church pew. There are people, some of them crying, and Ianto. I feel him more than see him. John is with me, always at my side. Which, I think, is the only reason I’m numb. Otherwise, I’m pretty sure the scream that’s nestled in my throat would make its appearance.
Grandpa has my hand. I feel his rough, warm skin, and smell his sweet pipe smoke as I lean into his shoulder. The only person I need. The only one I can tolerate.
Other people keep coming up to us, and Grandpa somehow keeps them away. Which is good. Because if I open my mouth to talk, that scream…
Then the people are leaving us alone, and everything goes quiet. Father O’Donnell starts talking. I’m vaguely aware of Owen’s parents and Tommy walking up the aisle ahead of a wooden box.
A box.
Owen.
It starts as a low moan in my chest. And then there’s not anything even John can do about the scream.
*~*
Ianto
He doesn’t say anything at all on the way home. He just slumps in the seat and stares blindly at the dashboard.
I sink into the backseat as John drives, wishing it were me in that coffin. How could I have let this happen?
Every once in a while, a soft, agonised moan escapes Jack’s chest, crushing my heart. If I could take away his pain…I’d do anything.
John pulls his Charger into Jack’s driveway behind his family in the van. Jack just sits for a long time, then sort of drifts out of the car and starts wandering across the yard. His parents watch from the porch, and his father starts to follow, but John places a hand on his shoulder and nods at me. I follow him across the lawn and onto the sidewalk as he starts up the street in the direction of Owen’s house.
I keep pace beside him. “Jack?”
He just shuffles up the sidewalk, oblivious to everything. I start to reach for him, but stop. I’m not sure I can touch him without…
I step in front of him and walk backward.
“Jack…can you hear me?” Nothing.
“I know this is…” A hot, wet lump in my throat chokes off my words. What am I going to say? Hard? This is more than hard. This is impossible.
I realise I’ve stopped shuffling backward when I feel Jack’s fingers brush my cheek. I look up and he’s staring into my eyes. His fingertips are damp.
“You’re crying,” he says.
That’s impossible. “I can’t. I’m a demon now—mostly.”
He rubs his thumb over his fingertips. “You are.” He brings his damp fingertips to his lips as tears start to course down his cheeks. He turns and sits on the curb, head in his hands. His fingers are splayed through his hair, veiling his face.
I sit next to him, a safe distance between us. “I’m so sorry, Jack.” It sounds so inadequate.
“I couldn’t save him. He’s in…Hell, Ianto.” His voice catches. “And I couldn’t get him back.”
“It’s not your fault.”
He rips his head from his hands and glares at me, strands of hair sticking up from where his fingers were. “Of course it is.” His voice is low but feral, almost a growl.
But then his eyes widen. “But, you’re a demon again, right?” I nod.
His features twist into a grimace as he says, “Can you go get him? In Hell, I mean?”
At this minute, looking at the pain etched into Jack’s face, I’d be willing to try, even though there’s no way in Hell I could possibly succeed—or survive.
“If that’s what you want, Jack, I’ll try.”
His eyes close in a slow blink, and when he opens them, hope shines briefly. But then they go dead again. “You won’t be able to save him either, will you?”
I drop my gaze. It kills me to see him like this. “No.”
“And they’ll kill you too.”
“More like an eternity of torture, but yeah.”
I pull myself up from the curb, because being this close is too hard, and pace out into the street. I lace my hands over my head and pull a deep breath, trying to think. When I turn back to the curb, Jack is standing, tears heavy on his cheeks again. I pace back without really looking at him, and when I step up onto the sidewalk, he reaches for my arm.
“Ianto, I’m so sorry. I know none of this is your fault.”
I stand stiff and stare straight ahead, hands balled at my sides to keep from pulling him to me. Because I can’t do this, as much as I want to. I can’t go back.
In all my existence, I’ve never known pain like that—the pain of having everything and then losing it. But it’s no less than I deserve. Because he’s wrong. It was my fault. Everything that’s happened to Jack since I came in to his life.
I’ll destroy him if I stay.
I shrug away from his grasp. “Jack—”
He sinks back to the curb. “It’s too late, isn’t it? I’ve ruined it.” He presses his face into his knees, lacing his fingers behind his head.
“I don’t think…,” I start before my words are choked off by my heart, throbbing in the back of my throat. I pace the sidewalk until I can speak. “Jack, I just can’t do this again.”
He doesn’t lift his head, but the sound that he makes—a muffled whimper—causes what blood I have left to run cold.
“This—” I gesture vaguely at the world even though he’s not looking. “—is just a disaster, for all of us. You have to know it’s best this way. I can’t stay here.”
Finally, he pulls his face from his knees. But he doesn’t look at me. “So, that’s it? It’s over?” He looks up at me then, his eyes dark, dead. “I guess I can try not to want you…if that’s what you want.”
“It is,” I say, as every cell inside me screams in protest. I glance back toward Jack’s house to avoid looking at him and see John watching us from the end of the driveway. I bend down and kiss the top of his head, and it takes everything I have to pull away. Somehow I manage it, then nod to John before crossing the street and climbing into my car.
*~*
Jack
He’s gone. I can feel it without having to look. My heart clenches into a hard ball as some major part of me—my soul?—curls up and dies, leaving me cold and empty.
Of course he doesn’t love me anymore. How could he after everything I’ve put him through? He’d rather be a demon than be with me, and I don’t blame him.
I curl my arms around my knees and pull them tight to my chest, straining to hold myself together.
“Come in the house, Jack. Please.” John’s voice is soft and low as he crouches next to me.
I look up at him, lost. He holds out his hand and I take it. He draws me off the curb and back to the house, then takes me up the stairs and tucks me into bed.
“Get some rest. I’ll be back a little later.”
Panic rips the breath from my lungs and I spring to a sit. “Please don’t go.”
He glances toward the open door and then pulls my desk chair over and sits next to the bed. “All right,” he says, squeezing my hand.
I thrash for hours, scared to close my eyes, because every time I do, images of Owen, Lisa, and Ianto play in my head. Every so often, Mum or Dad walk by my open door. Finally, Dad turns off the light in the hall and the room plunges into darkness. When John stands, I’m embarrassed by the squeaky little whimper that escapes my throat.
“I’m right here, Jack. I’m not going anywhere.” He pulls the T-shirt I sleep in from under my pillow. “I just thought maybe you’d be able to sleep if you were comfortable. I’ll be just outside the door.”
He steps into the hall, and my shaking intensifies to the point I can hardly undress myself. Finally, I change into the T-shirt, and slide back under the covers.
“Okay,” I say, my voice little more than a croak. John steps back into the room and closes the door behind him. He curls into the bed behind me. “You’re going to be okay, Jack. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
I shudder as I think about all the things that have already happened to me—and everyone I love—and I know he’s lying, even though he doesn’t.
I can’t stop shaking. Even John’s presence doesn’t completely stop it. I press my back closer into him. But despite his closeness and the calm that it brings, my heart still hammers in my chest. ’Cause I know if I close my eyes again…the nightmares will return… Owen… Lisa.
“Please try to sleep, Jack,” he whispers in my ear.
“I can’t.” I shiver violently and he pulls me tighter to him. I roll in his arms and burrow into him. His cool breath in my hair takes the edge off the terror that’s taken control of me. I nuzzle my face into the crook of his neck and take in the scent of his winter sunshine, trying to forget everything but that. Even still, the panic is there, right on the edge of bursting through. He kisses the top of my head, and a shiver rips through me. I pull my face out of his neck and stare into his deep blue eyes, shining in the pale moonlight, and I try to lose myself.
The closer I get to him, the more peaceful I feel—I know that from experience. He’s the only thing that can block out the pain.
“Jack…,” he says as I trail my fingers across his lips. I feel him shudder.
When I bring his face to mine and my lips touch his, his peace washes over me, drowning me in soft numbness, instantly easing the tight ache in my chest. Suddenly, my empty heart feels full—’cause he loves me. I can feel that too, deep and unconditional.
This is where I want to be. I want to lose myself in his peace and love. I want to be so lost that no one can ever find me.
I just want to forget me.
His kiss becomes less tentative, his mouth exploring. His lips devour me, helping me disappear. The further I get into him, the less of me there is. I fumble with the buttons of his shirt. He tugs my T-shirt over my head and his hands and mouth continue their soft, cool exploration, every caress taking me further away from myself.
My heart is still pounding, but now it’s not from panic. And my ragged breathing isn’t from fear. With every step toward the inevitable, I’m one step further from the pain.
When he rolls on top of me, I slide his shirt off his shoulders and feel his skin on mine—not cool anymore, but hot. I kiss his shoulder and pull at his pants, wanting everything—all of him.
His lips are hot on my neck as he whispers, “Oh, God… Jack.” And then his mouth finds mine again and I feel the slow burn under my skin, my heat matching his.
We move together on the bed and I’m almost gone—just one more step. I wrap my legs around him, giving him permission to take that last step and free me from my misery, telling him with my body that I want him to.
And I feel him respond, pressing harder into me, letting loose that last shred of reserve. I slide my hand around to the front of his pants and feel him shudder. He kisses me deeper and there’s something desperate about it, like he’s suffocating and I’m the air. He needs me as much as I need him. I can feel it. This is what we both need to save us. Each other.
I’m almost gone. Just one more step.
As I work the button of his pants, his lips slide off mine, trailing a burning path down my chin, my neck, my shoulder, and back up to my ear. His breathing is as ragged as mine as he whispers, “Please, Jack. Please stop.”
A wave of guilt crashes over me as I realise what I’m doing to him.
He groans as I push him off and rolls to lie on the bed next to me. After a few deep breaths, he opens his eyes. He slides off the bed and stands there, silhouetted against the shifting shadows in the moonlight at my window.
I sink deeper into the pillows and try to disappear.
“I…” He doesn’t finish. Instead, he grabs his shirt, spins, and walks out into the hall, closing the door behind him. Then nothing.
It’s quiet, and I lie here trying to decide what to do. When it becomes clear that John isn’t coming back, I close my eyes and pray sincerely to God to just kill me now.
I sit up when the door cracks open again and pull the sheets around me, suddenly embarrassed, as John steps through.
He turns his back to me. “I think I can control myself now, but it’d make it easier if you had some clothes on.”
I roll and grab my T-shirt from the floor. “You don’t have to stay,” I say as I slide it on, trying to keep my voice even. Truth is, I’m desperate for him to stay, but mortified too. “If I’m making it too hard for you…”
He turns and comes to the edge of the bed, where he sits. He holds my face in his hands and gazes at me. “I love you, Jack. But we can’t do…this.” He gestures to the twisted sheets. “I’d willingly give up my wings for you, but not like this.”
Despair squeezes the breath from my lungs. “I know.” I touch his face again—I can’t help it, he’s so beautiful.
“You said when Gray lost his wings, he had a choice of…” I lower my eyes and trail off as I realise how selfish the rest of that thought is.
But John always knows what I’m thinking. “I’m not like Gray. I couldn’t stay with you.”
“Why not?”
“I’m a Dominion. One of the Second Sphere. I’m not an angel.”
My eyes snap back to his and I prop up onto my elbow. “I thought all of you were angels.”
“No. The term angel is specific to mortals who have attained Heavenly status. I was never human.”
I try to process that. “So…that means…”
“If I lose my wings, there’d be no choice. I’m not from the Earth, so I can’t return to it. I’d belong to Lucifer.”
My heart pounds in my throat. “Unless I wanted you to be human.” And I do. Right now there’s nothing I want more.
He looks at me from under his white lashes, and thoughts flash through his eyes so fast that I can’t get a hold of any of them. Then he leans in and kisses me again. I tug him onto the bed next to me and stare into those amazing eyes. The question is out of my mouth almost before I realise I’ve said it. “Did you know Lucifer before he fell?”
He stiffens, but his voice is as always, calm, soothing. “Jack, don’t worry about Him right now. You’re safe. Go to sleep.”
I shift in his arms, suddenly uncomfortable, but something deep inside me won’t let it go. “I’m not worried. I just want to know.”
He shakes his head slowly. “I was created just after the War. He was gone by then.”
“So…you never knew Him as an angel?”
John’s eyes narrow. “Where are you going with this?”
I shake my head, because I don’t really know. It’s just a feeling I can’t explain. “Nowhere, I guess.”
He kisses my forehead and settles back into the pillows. “Sleep, Jack.”
I let my eyes close, but images from my nightmare haunt me—Owen, blood, Lilith. I place my hand on his chest, over where his heart would be, trying hard not to want what he can’t give, but needing to be close. “Is this okay?”
He releases a shuddering sigh and strokes my shoulder. “Perfect,” he says.
And sometime, hours later, I’m finally able to sleep.
*~*
When I wake, pale grey light filters through the tree outside my window. I’m alone in my bed, and everything from the last five days is a little fuzzy, like I’m just coming out the other side of a five-day bender. It’s that same hung-over feeling as I lie in the bed for a long time trying to put the pieces together—what’s real and what’s haze. Owen’s murder was real—no dream could produce pain that sharp.
Ianto leaving—real. John…last night? There’s a flutter low in my belly as I remember his amazing, soft touch. Did we really almost have sex? Did he say he loved me? I think that was real too. He’d give up his wings for me…that’s what he said.
But he’s gone.
I push off the wash of disappointment and look at the clock, then grab my phone and call in sick to Giovanni again. He tells me not to bother coming back.
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no subject
on 2012-09-08 08:32 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2012-09-08 11:33 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2012-09-08 12:00 am (UTC)Because Jack is a player.
Damn him.
:(((((
I really love this story, but I don't even know why I am reading it as it sounds like Jack won't end up with Ianto. And that's just going to make me sob my little heart out and curse him even more.
no subject
on 2012-09-08 12:09 am (UTC)Would it help if I told you that while it may not look good right now, there is still hope for Jack and Ianto?
no subject
on 2012-09-08 12:10 am (UTC)Ok.
And yes...that damned sway of his! HMPH
no subject
on 2012-09-08 02:21 am (UTC)no subject
on 2012-09-08 12:25 am (UTC)no subject
on 2012-09-08 02:22 am (UTC)no subject
on 2012-09-08 01:51 am (UTC)no subject
on 2012-09-08 02:23 am (UTC)no subject
on 2012-09-08 03:21 am (UTC)1st. Jack and Ianto moment, I almost cry, literally my mouth did this :(((
2nd. Jack belongs to Ianto and I'm sure they will end together in some way, but I like this Jack/John moments, the need, the repression. But, yes, Janto forever!
3rd. Jack asking about Lucifer? That mistery is killing me! I need to know!
Warning I'm going to have a fangirling moment, is going to be embarrassed: I love how you write!!!!!! Never stop writing, Ok?
no subject
on 2012-09-08 10:07 am (UTC)Cheers but I can't take all the credit. This instalment of the series is very nearly done. But there is a third instalment of the series to be posted soon.
no subject
on 2012-09-08 04:06 am (UTC)no subject
on 2012-09-08 10:08 am (UTC)no subject
on 2012-09-08 04:50 am (UTC)*shakes head*
You do know how to write the most amazing emotion into your chapters. I can really feel Jack's despair, and it kills me knowing there is probably still more torment ahead for the poor guy.
Brilliant chapter - brilliant story.
no subject
on 2012-09-08 10:11 am (UTC)It does tug at the heartstrings, right. Damn those boys! Yes, it does seem bleak, but you know me, I am a happy ending Janto gal. Yet, I can say that there is definitely more turmoil up ahead.
Loving you Dark Hunter stuff, too. And waiting not so patiently for the next part. ;)
no subject
on 2012-09-08 03:30 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2012-09-08 11:35 pm (UTC)Cheers and more soon.