Jack- September 11th, 2009
Nov. 5th, 2009 10:07 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ericadawn16Title: But Time Didn’t Stop
Characters: Jack Jack/Ianto
Rated: PG-13 ANGST COE Spoilers
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Summary: Jack comes to a realization.
Author's Note: Starts after COE.
Previous Chapter: August 19th, 2009
Masterlist: http://ericadawn16.livejournal.com/63337.html
September 11th, 2009
Soon, Jack found himself seated at an airport bar, nursing a ginger ale for his stomach in the happiest place on Earth, or at least what was supposed to be. So far, he didn’t see much difference from the other airports he’d been in. The nausea was almost non-existent, but he was beginning to prefer it. Because when he didn’t feel like throwing up, his body was betraying him. He knew it had been more than three months since he’d had sex. He didn’t need his body reminding him yet it did even as he had no mental desire to have sex with anyone ever again. On the telly was the memorial in New York. Jack looked at his reflection in the polished stone that his glass was on and noted how he needed to shave again. To his left, a tourist sat down on a stool. Every piece of clothing appeared to advertise some park or attraction.
“Rum and coke,” said the male tourist to the bartender and resumed talking on his mobile, “No, I’m serious, this was the best vacation that Laura and I have ever done…no, we did the Disney thing, that’s not what I mean because we spent half the time in the hotel room…her being pregnant was the best thing that ever happened to our sex life…no, I’m telling you it’s awesome, after the early part where she was puking all the time, she hit that three month mark and BOOM! She’s horny as hell almost all the time, I just have to put up with her backaches and heartburn and stuff, but it’s never been like this before, she suggests it, practically begs for it…no, you should! You should totally knock up your wife, too! I gotta go, she’s probably out of the bathroom by now.”
The mobile was snapped shut, he guzzled down the glass and he motioned to the bartender as Jack thought about what was said.
‘Puking all the time…horny as hell…backaches and heartburn and stuff,’ the tourist had said and then he thought of things Gwen had said, ‘it’s like I can smell everything and everything makes me want to throw up… I’ve got to wear this stuff while I still can.’
Jack glanced down at his belt that buckled a few holes looser than it was, but he had lost so much weight over the summer that he thought it was a good thing. Then, he heard Lois ask, ‘shouldn’t a regular flu have runs its course?’
No, no, no, thought Jack as an idea started to form in his mind.
“Are you alright, sir?” asked the bartender standing right in front of him.
“No…yes…I don’t know,” he admitted and took out his credit card, “But I need my tab settled.”
The former leader of Torchwood checked into the first room he could find and put the sign on the door not to be disturbed. He took off the coat and put it on the bed before he started pacing. It was crazy. It was insane. It couldn’t be true. His feet were going to pace a hole in the pale plush carpeting. Without his wrist strap or a laptop, he’d have to resort to his mobile. Jack tried to maintain a detached, professional feeling as he looked up the symptoms.
“Delay of menstruation? Not applicable, thank God or somebody,” Jack joked as he went to the next one on the list, “Nausea and vomiting? Check. Tender or swollen breasts?”
He set the mobile down on the table, unbuttoned his shirt and stripped off the one underneath it. Never having paid much attention to them, unless sex was involved, he wasn’t sure how to check for that. Should he poke or jiggle or squeeze? After a moment, he decided to go for it and pat the nipples at the same time; one hand for each. As he pushed down a little bit…
“Ow, that’s definitely tender. Feeling exhausted or ‘sleepy’? Well, so would you if you couldn’t sleep. Backaches? Check. Frequent headaches? Check,” he answered and was beginning to think that was one ‘check’ too many, “Food cravings?”
He tried to think. Nothing came to mind although he had been eating more chocolate than usual.
“Possibly. Darkening of areola?” he read and looked down. They might be browner than they were. He wasn’t sure.
“Possibly. Fetal movements? No, definitely not…I” he started and couldn’t continue that sentence, “It’d be too soon if there is even anything to be…moving around. Frequent urination? I thought I had the flu. It’d be normal. Fetal heartbeat? None that I can tell.”
Still, there were too many coincidences. If there was any truth to this whole crazy thing, how far along would it be? How long had it been since he’d lost Ianto? Fifteen weeks, he calculated in no time at all. He looked on another part of the site.
“’Clothes beginning to feel a little tight?’” Jack read and looked down. There wasn’t much to see with the belt, trousers and boxers. One by one, they each came off until he stood naked. His body didn’t seem any different. Depending on how active the Rift was being, the amount of takeaway he’d been eating and whether Ianto and Owen had teased him into working out more…he tended to naturally fluctuate in pounds. He moved to the full length mirror and turned to study his profile.
“Oh,” he uttered and saw what looked almost like the beginnings of a beer belly except that he hadn’t had any; just the one bottle at Gwen’s birthday. Then, he remembered that the weeks didn’t go by conception; they started two weeks before that.
“Seventeen weeks,” he whispered but this was crazy. The last time had been a very, very long time ago before he had died. He didn’t think he was capable of it anymore unless something had happened when he was blown up? However, they weren’t able to have sex after that except for the dream and did after-death sex really count? It was the only explanation though. Jack felt light-headed and stumbled for the bed where he flopped on his back.
Why now? It was terrible timing. No, it wasn’t. He’d just given control of Torchwood to Gwen and could do whatever he wanted. He could go anywhere. It was the perfect time except Ianto was dead. He would never know and no one else could know. Who was he kidding? This was the twenty-first century and they were completely unprepared for such things except for UNIT and he didn’t want to be studied like a science experiment.
Maybe he was wrong.
Maybe it was one of those psychological things where he’d been around Gwen so much that he developed the signs without actually being…
He closed his blue eyes and grabbed the nearest pillow.
“Ianto, I wish you were here,” he spoke and fell asleep. When he woke up, his left hand was resting on his belly and he realized what had roused him from sleep. It was a flutter; a movement from inside him.
“Are you real? Are you actually real?” he asked and rubbed the tiny bump that might contain his last link with Ianto. It was a lot to think about, but he reminded himself that he didn't have to decide anything right this minute. No, there were more pressing concerns. His stomach grumbled from the emptiness.
“We should eat,” he said and started dressing.
It was strange. If it had been one of his lovers, he’d be discussing baby things with her and making purchases, but it was just him. The longer he stayed in that town of happy families on their vacation, the more alone he felt. He called Rhi for a brief chat where she talked about how David and Mica were doing in the new school year and he fought the urge to tell her. Gwen had been too busy the last two times for a chat and he understood. It was his fault that she was overwhelmed. He thought she was more prepared than that. Jack sat on the edge of Lake Lorna Doone. He had to laugh at the name and there was a whole Lorna Doone park. Then, a little girl approached him.
“Hi, you like Spongebob? I like Spongebob,” said the girl and pointed to her shirt with a bright yellow square creature.
“I’ve…I’ve never watched,” he admitted and her brown eyes grew very big.
“Never?!” she exclaimed as though he had never washed his hair or something. He’d heard of it. It was some cartoon show.
“Suzie, stop bothering people!” cried who he guessed was her mother and she took the girl with curly brown hair away. Suzie Costello had had brown eyes and curly brown hair, too.
It was time to leave.
September 14th, 2009
edf
Characters: Jack Jack/Ianto
Rated: PG-13 ANGST COE Spoilers
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Summary: Jack comes to a realization.
Author's Note: Starts after COE.
Previous Chapter: August 19th, 2009
Masterlist: http://ericadawn16.livejournal.com/63337.html
September 11th, 2009
Soon, Jack found himself seated at an airport bar, nursing a ginger ale for his stomach in the happiest place on Earth, or at least what was supposed to be. So far, he didn’t see much difference from the other airports he’d been in. The nausea was almost non-existent, but he was beginning to prefer it. Because when he didn’t feel like throwing up, his body was betraying him. He knew it had been more than three months since he’d had sex. He didn’t need his body reminding him yet it did even as he had no mental desire to have sex with anyone ever again. On the telly was the memorial in New York. Jack looked at his reflection in the polished stone that his glass was on and noted how he needed to shave again. To his left, a tourist sat down on a stool. Every piece of clothing appeared to advertise some park or attraction.
“Rum and coke,” said the male tourist to the bartender and resumed talking on his mobile, “No, I’m serious, this was the best vacation that Laura and I have ever done…no, we did the Disney thing, that’s not what I mean because we spent half the time in the hotel room…her being pregnant was the best thing that ever happened to our sex life…no, I’m telling you it’s awesome, after the early part where she was puking all the time, she hit that three month mark and BOOM! She’s horny as hell almost all the time, I just have to put up with her backaches and heartburn and stuff, but it’s never been like this before, she suggests it, practically begs for it…no, you should! You should totally knock up your wife, too! I gotta go, she’s probably out of the bathroom by now.”
The mobile was snapped shut, he guzzled down the glass and he motioned to the bartender as Jack thought about what was said.
‘Puking all the time…horny as hell…backaches and heartburn and stuff,’ the tourist had said and then he thought of things Gwen had said, ‘it’s like I can smell everything and everything makes me want to throw up… I’ve got to wear this stuff while I still can.’
Jack glanced down at his belt that buckled a few holes looser than it was, but he had lost so much weight over the summer that he thought it was a good thing. Then, he heard Lois ask, ‘shouldn’t a regular flu have runs its course?’
No, no, no, thought Jack as an idea started to form in his mind.
“Are you alright, sir?” asked the bartender standing right in front of him.
“No…yes…I don’t know,” he admitted and took out his credit card, “But I need my tab settled.”
The former leader of Torchwood checked into the first room he could find and put the sign on the door not to be disturbed. He took off the coat and put it on the bed before he started pacing. It was crazy. It was insane. It couldn’t be true. His feet were going to pace a hole in the pale plush carpeting. Without his wrist strap or a laptop, he’d have to resort to his mobile. Jack tried to maintain a detached, professional feeling as he looked up the symptoms.
“Delay of menstruation? Not applicable, thank God or somebody,” Jack joked as he went to the next one on the list, “Nausea and vomiting? Check. Tender or swollen breasts?”
He set the mobile down on the table, unbuttoned his shirt and stripped off the one underneath it. Never having paid much attention to them, unless sex was involved, he wasn’t sure how to check for that. Should he poke or jiggle or squeeze? After a moment, he decided to go for it and pat the nipples at the same time; one hand for each. As he pushed down a little bit…
“Ow, that’s definitely tender. Feeling exhausted or ‘sleepy’? Well, so would you if you couldn’t sleep. Backaches? Check. Frequent headaches? Check,” he answered and was beginning to think that was one ‘check’ too many, “Food cravings?”
He tried to think. Nothing came to mind although he had been eating more chocolate than usual.
“Possibly. Darkening of areola?” he read and looked down. They might be browner than they were. He wasn’t sure.
“Possibly. Fetal movements? No, definitely not…I” he started and couldn’t continue that sentence, “It’d be too soon if there is even anything to be…moving around. Frequent urination? I thought I had the flu. It’d be normal. Fetal heartbeat? None that I can tell.”
Still, there were too many coincidences. If there was any truth to this whole crazy thing, how far along would it be? How long had it been since he’d lost Ianto? Fifteen weeks, he calculated in no time at all. He looked on another part of the site.
“’Clothes beginning to feel a little tight?’” Jack read and looked down. There wasn’t much to see with the belt, trousers and boxers. One by one, they each came off until he stood naked. His body didn’t seem any different. Depending on how active the Rift was being, the amount of takeaway he’d been eating and whether Ianto and Owen had teased him into working out more…he tended to naturally fluctuate in pounds. He moved to the full length mirror and turned to study his profile.
“Oh,” he uttered and saw what looked almost like the beginnings of a beer belly except that he hadn’t had any; just the one bottle at Gwen’s birthday. Then, he remembered that the weeks didn’t go by conception; they started two weeks before that.
“Seventeen weeks,” he whispered but this was crazy. The last time had been a very, very long time ago before he had died. He didn’t think he was capable of it anymore unless something had happened when he was blown up? However, they weren’t able to have sex after that except for the dream and did after-death sex really count? It was the only explanation though. Jack felt light-headed and stumbled for the bed where he flopped on his back.
Why now? It was terrible timing. No, it wasn’t. He’d just given control of Torchwood to Gwen and could do whatever he wanted. He could go anywhere. It was the perfect time except Ianto was dead. He would never know and no one else could know. Who was he kidding? This was the twenty-first century and they were completely unprepared for such things except for UNIT and he didn’t want to be studied like a science experiment.
Maybe he was wrong.
Maybe it was one of those psychological things where he’d been around Gwen so much that he developed the signs without actually being…
He closed his blue eyes and grabbed the nearest pillow.
“Ianto, I wish you were here,” he spoke and fell asleep. When he woke up, his left hand was resting on his belly and he realized what had roused him from sleep. It was a flutter; a movement from inside him.
“Are you real? Are you actually real?” he asked and rubbed the tiny bump that might contain his last link with Ianto. It was a lot to think about, but he reminded himself that he didn't have to decide anything right this minute. No, there were more pressing concerns. His stomach grumbled from the emptiness.
“We should eat,” he said and started dressing.
It was strange. If it had been one of his lovers, he’d be discussing baby things with her and making purchases, but it was just him. The longer he stayed in that town of happy families on their vacation, the more alone he felt. He called Rhi for a brief chat where she talked about how David and Mica were doing in the new school year and he fought the urge to tell her. Gwen had been too busy the last two times for a chat and he understood. It was his fault that she was overwhelmed. He thought she was more prepared than that. Jack sat on the edge of Lake Lorna Doone. He had to laugh at the name and there was a whole Lorna Doone park. Then, a little girl approached him.
“Hi, you like Spongebob? I like Spongebob,” said the girl and pointed to her shirt with a bright yellow square creature.
“I’ve…I’ve never watched,” he admitted and her brown eyes grew very big.
“Never?!” she exclaimed as though he had never washed his hair or something. He’d heard of it. It was some cartoon show.
“Suzie, stop bothering people!” cried who he guessed was her mother and she took the girl with curly brown hair away. Suzie Costello had had brown eyes and curly brown hair, too.
It was time to leave.
September 14th, 2009
edf
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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Date: 2009-11-06 05:45 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-07 12:54 am (UTC)Thank you!! And more has been posted...