Chosen One - Chapter 10
Jan. 5th, 2013 02:00 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
madbottomsSummary: Our favourite tortured boys are back in this third and final instalment in which they try to outrun Hell.
Notes: See chapter 1 for disclaimer warnings and related info. Two in a row because of the delay between previous postings. Enjoy and drop a line or two.
10
Soul Kiss
*~*
IANTO
Jack just stares at John as he sits with his face in his hand, then lifts his head and looks at me.
“Can anyone but Lucifer travel with the Mage?” John asks.
“No.”
He thinks for a moment more. “So, this might work to our advantage.”
I narrow my eyes at him, not liking where this is going. “How so?”
“I intended to have Jack lure Him here and use his Sway to find His vulnerability—something I could use to destroy Him. But if He comes through his dream…” His eyes lift to mine, and I see something resembling hope or madness, which often resemble each other. “… He’s got to be less of a threat to Jack in that form and also more vulnerable.”
“This is pure insanity.” Rage churns my insides into a raw, bleeding mass, and it’s everything I can do to stay planted in this chair. I’m going to kill him. I don’t care that he’s a Dominion. I don’t care that my power is gone. I’m going to find a way to kill him for this. “Even if Jack could find His weakness, do you truly think you—one angel—could defeat Him?” My voice is tight as I fight not to snarl at him.
“This could work…” he muses. “Time … that’s our only problem.”
That’s all I can take. The last straw.
I bound from the chair and grab him by the shirt, flinging him around and slamming him into the wall, where I clamp my hand around his throat. All this time, I’ve believed that he had Jack’s best interests at heart. That he would protect him. But instead, his plan was to use Jack as bait in some misguided attempt to play the hero. Mage or no Mage, this never would have worked. I was a fool to trust anyone but myself.
“You have truly lost your mind,” I spit in his face. “Time is not our problem. The Underworld is our problem. The legions of Hell!” I add with a punctuating slam of his back into the wall. “They will all be at our doorstep in a matter of seconds once He finds him.”
Jack’s on his feet, pulling me off John. “What do you care? You’re leaving anyway.”
I turn and look into his eyes, hoping I’ll find hatred, fury, disgust. But what I see instead as he gazes at me isn’t even fear. It’s sadness and despair.
I let go of John and, for the thousandth time, I second-guess myself. If the Mage has already found Jack, is there time? John’s right. We may be down to days. Hours, even.
It’s only been a few days, but I can’t help trying it out—testing to see if I can change. I focus on sloughing off my human form—letting my inner demon out … and nothing happens. I don’t even sprout a horn.
Damn.
I need my infernal power if I’m going to be any use protecting him, but the change takes time. Even if it started today—now—it wouldn’t happen fast enough.
John’s eyes slide to me and narrow. “He’s not going anywhere.”
Jack turns to him. “It might be better John. Is there somewhere else he could just hide out? Hope’s, maybe?” he says with a glance toward me. “He’ll be safer.”
And, with those words, my gut flips. I thought I’d said enough to stop him from caring. Obviously, I was mistaken. This is my chance. It’s not too late to undo what I’ve done and tell him how I really feel.
My mind reels, trying to decide what the right thing is.
The Mage has found him. There’s not enough time for the change.
It’s too late.
John shoves me away and steps to the door. “I’ll talk to Hope,” he says and disappears into the night as the door slams closed behind him.
Jack sits back on the couch, his fingers woven through his tangled hair, staring at the floor.
“Jack…” I start, but then I can’t find words to undo what I’ve said.
His eyes connect with mine, distant and empty. “He’s gonna find me, maybe sooner than we’d thought. No matter where we go, He’ll find me. I just want it over, one way or the other.”
The resignation and exhaustion are clear in his voice. He’s not going to be able to live like this for long—running, always looking over his shoulder. And seeing him like this, defeated, I know what I have to do.
*~*
JACK
Ianto sits next to me and keeps his eyes trained on his laced fingers. I don’t like the look on his face—drawn and tormented. My insides ache just looking at him. After everything that’s happened today, I can’t do this with him.
I push myself to my feet and head toward my room before he can remind me how badly I’ve screwed everything up.
“Jack … wait.”
I can’t read Ianto’s voice. It’s hard, but not cruel the way it was earlier. There’s an undercurrent of warmth. It’s enough to make me turn around.
He’s standing, but he hasn’t moved away from the couch. “John is going to get you killed. You can’t seriously think his plan is going to work.”
Fear kicks in my gut, but fades nearly as fast. I’m so tired of being scared. “Everybody dies.”
His face twists and a soft groan escapes his throat. “No. I’m not going to let that happen.”
Something snags my heart. “Ianto … there’s nothing you can do.”
From the look on his face, you’d think I slapped him. He drops his chin to his shoulder and screws his face into a grimace, his hands balled at his sides, and I jump when a frustrated roar rips from his lungs. He spins and paces toward the front door, and I’m sure he’s gonna leave … until he spins back and storms to where I’m standing. He wraps his arms around me and practically lifts me off my feet, pressing me hard against his body. His face is buried in the crook of my shoulder, and I feel his hot, uneven breath on my neck, sending a shiver skittering over my skin.
I loop my arms over his shoulders and stroke his hair, and we just stand here, Ianto crushing me in a hug and me trying not to cry, for a very long time. Finally, he lowers me to the ground, his arms still tight around me, and gazes into my eyes.
“I don’t know how to do this,” he finally says, his words clipped with frustration. “I’m totally useless. There’s nothing I can do to help you.”
I just look at him, not sure what to say. I don’t want him anywhere near this. If he believes he can’t help, will he stay out of the fight?
Tension rolls through his body in a wave, his muscles tightening under my arms. “I can’t stand by and watch while John gets you killed,” he growls through clenched teeth.
“Then go. Please.” I fight for control, but the hitch in my voice betrays me.
He sighs and dips his face into my hair. “I can’t,” he says, his voice as shaky as the sigh that preceded it. He pulls away and smooths the backs of his fingers slowly over my cheek, down my neck to my shoulder, where he rests his hand. “As a mortal—as this person,” he says, bringing his other fist to his heart, “all I’ve ever been is part of you. As wrong as I know it is, I don’t think I can live without you.”
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out past the throbbing lump in my throat. He’s going to have to live without me, but how can I tell him that? Despair blankets my heart and squeezes. I try to fight the tears as Ianto pulls me tighter. His uneven breath against my face tells me he’s fighting tears too. I squeeze my eyes hard to stop mine and pull back. “Ianto—”
He holds up his hand and glances toward the door. “But I also know John is your best chance right now. I’ll make him see this plan is crazy. We’ll work something else out. Until then, you need his protection. I’ll do whatever you need me to … whatever I can to protect you.” His face darkens and his eyes shift to the door again. “I’ll do anything.”
I can’t help feeling relieved when I understand that what he means by “anything” is that he’ll stay here with John and me. I know how hard that is for him.
I look up into his tortured obsidian eyes and see myself reflected there, the way I was when he loved me, before everything went so horribly wrong. For an instant, I let myself remember what it was to give myself to him completely—to tear down the walls and let him into my heart. I let myself remember the rush of the fall.
It was terrifying.
And amazing.
It was like he was the only one who ever knew the real me. I told him everything—things I’d never dared tell another living soul.
The whole ugly truth.
And he loved me anyway. Not because he had to, like John, but because he wanted to.
I lift my hand to his face. My palm glides over the stubble on his cheek as my thumb traces his lips. He closes his eyes and sighs deeply.
When he pulls me close again, I let him. But only for a second. Because there’s a war waging inside me. He just said everything I hoped he would. My heart should be soaring, but instead it’s weeping. I ache to curl into his arms and pretend all of this away, to grab at this last chance for happiness.
But I can’t.
It wouldn’t be fair for a lot of reasons, the biggest being that I’m not gonna be alive at the end of this.
My heart throbs as I take his hand and lead him over to the couch, where we sit. I sink into the cushions and loll my head back. Something dark and ugly rolls through my insides and dread creeps into my heart. I close my eyes, pushing away my inner demons. I can’t afford them. I have too many real demons to deal with. “I have no idea what’s gonna happen now. I only know it isn’t finished.” I feel him push back into the cushions next to me and I lift my head to look at him. “Do you remember when I told you I thought I was meant for something?”
He looks at me, his gaze intense. His lips are parted just so, and I have the sudden aching need to kiss him. I take a deep breath and hold it for a second as he nods.
I look away before I lose it again. “Well, I feel it more now. It started like a pebble on my chest, but now it’s growing into a boulder.” I shake my head, knowing how stupid it sounds, but I feel it pressing in on me even as I say it. “A really big, sharp, nasty boulder that won’t let me breathe. Something’s coming. I don’t know how I know, but—”
“No,” he interrupts, “it doesn’t matter how you know.” He leans toward me and props his elbow on his knee, threading his fingers into mine. “If your gut is telling you something’s coming, trust it.”
I nod, suddenly knowing what I need to say. “So, I need your help.”
Surprise flashes across his face and then his expression grows sombre. “What do you need from me?”
This is hard, and all I can do is hope he understands. “I need your support, but I can’t be … with you…” His eyes cloud and I quickly add, “Either of you … right now. I need to keep my head clear—to think. Which I can’t do very well when we’re … you know.” Heat prickles my face at the memory of him pressed against me in his bed, the feel of his skin on mine, and I’m sure I’m blushing.
The hint of a wistful smile turns the corners of his lips and my heart feels suddenly lighter. I didn’t realise how heavily all of this was weighing on me until just this second. But, if he understands … if we can at least be friends again …
And if I’m wrong, and at the end of this I’m actually still alive, maybe someday we can be more.
But not until I know for sure.
I shift closer to him on the couch and he looks at me. He lifts his hand and smoothes my tears away with the tips of his fingers.
“I love you.” It’s out of my mouth before I realise I mean to say it.
He closes his eyes and leans his forehead into mine, letting out a shaky breath.
“But I need to be on my own,” I add, lower. “To figure things out.”
