bluecastle | Torchwood Fic -- Upgrading the Dream

Title: Upgrading the Dream
Fandom: Torchwood
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Spoilers: Set in the hours after Cyberwoman.

Summary: Wherein nightmares begin to fade.

a/n: I posted a previous draft of this over at ff.net… but I’ve reworked it since then, and it’s stronger now. Let it serve as my introduction. I’m very new to LJ and this community, but deeply bewitched by all things Torchwood … especially Jack and Ianto.

Hold fast to dreams, for if dreams die, life is a broken winged bird that cannot fly.
--Langston Hughes

Jack and Ianto sat silently, warming themselves over a late night cup of coffee, each one wondering if there were words for this kind of situation. Ianto had arrived in Jack’s office long after everyone else had gone home with two cups of coffee on a tray. Jack had taken a good look into the younger mans eyes, added a big slug of brandy to each of the coffee cups, and motioned him towards the chair in front of his desk. Ianto sat silently for a few minutes, took a sip of coffee, and then cleared his throat as if to say something.

Jack watched Ianto sitting in front of him, pale and silent in his dark suit, crisp white shirt, and grey tie, outwardly calm, cool, and collected, the image of the perfect employee. But this employee had only hours before betrayed the trust of the man who’s office he was now sitting in. Forgiven, but not forgotten, the incident lay heavy in both men’s thoughts. Jack sighed, as the younger man dipped his head and stared into his coffee cup.

“Ianto, look at me,” Jack said softly. “What is it?”

His eyes flicked up and met Jack’s but he couldn’t seem to maintain eye contact.

“I wish… I want tell you something…”

“You can tell me anything…”

The younger man could hear the barest hint of a flirt in Jack’s response. Even as inappropriate as it was in this situation, he maddeningly found his cheeks flushing in response. Taking a big sip of coffee, he tasted the warm sharp notes of the brandy bubbling up against the roof of his mouth, and clearing his throat once again, he finally managed to say what had been on his mind all day.

“I dreamt about you last night.”

Jack leaned back in his chair, fingering his cufflinks, waiting for Ianto to continue. Ianto suspected, although he couldn’t look at him that Jack’s eyes would have sparkled a bit at the mention of dreams, and then darkened in worry. He was right. Ianto continued, and was almost, but not quite able to keep the bitterness out of his voice.

“It should have been a nightmare. But it wasn’t, not really. I knew I was dreaming because I was standing in front of Lisa’s grave, and Lisa doesn’t have a grave. But there I was, looking down at her grave and wondering how I was ever going to be able to go on without her. I wanted to fall apart. I wanted to fling myself on her grave and weep until I had no tears left, until there were no tears left in the world. But I couldn’t move. I couldn’t seem to make myself do anything. I was frozen there, held by some invisible force.”

Ianto turned in his chair to face Jack, finally able to meet his eyes, although he couldn’t for the life of him figure out where he found the strength. The bitterness faded, replaced by some other emotion, one Ianto couldn’t understand, couldn’t even name. The closest thing he could come to a name for it was wonder.

“You, Jack. You were there behind me, supporting me, somehow containing my grief. You were holding a bunch of white lilacs, and the scent of the flowers, and the damp earth, and … and you… all combined was filling my nose and making me dizzy. And as I watched, you knelt down and set the flowers gently on top of her grave. Then you stood up and took my hand. You took my hand and led me away from the graveside. You saved me Jack.”

Ianto continued to meet Jack’s gaze. There were so many emotions raging through him. He wanted to weep. He wanted to fling himself into Jack’s arms and apologize for his betrayal. He wanted to find a way to thank this man who had given him a second chance, even as part of him wished he had just shot him instead. But he couldn’t say or do anything. He didn’t know what to feel or even how to feel really. All he could do was to trust that Jack would be able to see what he was trying to say with his heart.

Jack had been reading people for centuries, and he saw all that Ianto couldn’t say and more in those eyes shining with emotion. There had always been a connection between the two men, some indefinable spark that had been smoldering ever since they met. But in this quiet moment, a bond was formed, a pledge of fidelity was made, a new kind of love, given and received, and somehow each man felt stronger for it.

Standing, Ianto turned to his boss, and asked, “Will there be anything else, sir?”

Jack stood and walked around his desk. He took Ianto’s hand and pulled him into an embrace. For one brief moment the younger man burrowed his head into the older one’s shoulder, and felt the ghost of a kiss on his temple. A whispered sentiment reached his ears.

“I always want to know when I’m in your dreams, Ianto.”

And with a feather light caress of the younger man’s neck, Jack stepped back and said, “That’s everything. I’ll see you in the morning. Sweet dreams, Ianto.”

Ianto watched his Captain disappear down the ladder into his private chambers, and as he picked up the tray with the cups and started across to the kitchenette, and suddenly, for the first time in a long time, he knew how he felt. He felt peaceful. The nightmare had ended, and in its place was left a sweeter dream.