ericadawn16 | Jack- October 22nd, 2009

Title: But Time Didn’t Stop
Characters: Jack Jack/Ianto
Rated: PG-13 ANGST COE Spoilers MPREG
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Summary: Jack reads the Martyn book.
Author's Note: Starts after COE. Read the Martyn book yourself
Previous Segment: October 1st, 2009
Masterlist: http://ericadawn16.livejournal.com/63337.html

October 22nd, 2009

Ianto had studied the book, everything that Warren Martyn had found out before they planned to retcon him as well as well as his publisher. Prior to that happening though, the two men disappeared and it had been placed in the Archives. Jack had only glanced through it once. Now, he was going to read the whole thing; an outsider’s perspective on Torchwood.

“They say I’m supposed to talk to you so you can know my voice and because it’s good for you, I don’t know,” he said with one hand on the bump.
It hadn’t grown much, but he wasn’t worried anymore. He was always feeling movement. A memory came to him.

‘They say you’re supposed to talk to people when they’re in a coma. Don’t they?... I’m not much of a talker, Jack, you know that. But I’ll talk to you now, on the off-chance that it helps,’ Ianto had told him.

“Well, if it worked then, I suppose it should work with you,” he spoke and took the hand off to open the book. A coffee ring had stained the page. He remembered with a smile how it had earned him retribution from the young Welshman. On the other side was Ianto’s photo. It looked like it was probably from 2007, maybe 2008.

“He looks so young,” Jack uttered and touched the glossy page, “I wish…I wish you could have met him.”
The tears were already beginning to build up. He began to read.

“…Torchwood…have been staffed by the bravest, most dedicated, most brilliant men and women on Earth. Because they believe in what Torchwood does, what it stands for. They believe that mankind needs protection from whatever comes from elsewhere, because humanity is worth the effort,” he read and had to stop when the tears fell, “Your daddy wrote that.”

Jack wished he could still believe that but he wasn’t sure after all he’d seen yet Ianto had never wavered.

“How was he able to do that? How was he still able to believe in me no matter what happened, no matter what I did?” he asked and knew he wouldn’t get an answer. There was squirming as if wanting him to get on with the story.

“Fine, fine,” he agreed and continued reading until a couple of pages later when he had to laugh.

“Remember, read this but never take it out of the Basement,” the man read and shook his head, “I took it a lot farther than that, but I think…I think he’d understand.”
Some time later, he stopped again and sighed. It was Martyn’s words.

“After I’d been in Cardiff for a few days, I saw Captain Jack Harkness. He was standing out by the nature reserve, by the Bay. Just…standing and staring out into the water, like he owned it. Like he owned the water and the land and the air. And I could see why people followed him, listened to him, obeyed him even. Because he looked…magnificent,” he read and wondered about what hadn’t been written. It felt like an accusation even if he was just imagining it. Had he taken advantage of that? His pheromones alone had an effect on people. Maybe he hadn’t really changed at all from that arrogant conman.

“I’m a bad person,” he uttered and there was an immediate kick, “You’re supposed to think that, but I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve you.”

His mobile rang in the next room. He made no move to get it but he would finish this book. Over ten pages later, he paused again at the picture on one.

“It’s the tourist office. Your daddy was in charge of that and it’s not there anymore,” Jack spoke and shifted his body in the bath. Several pages later, he was in for another shock.

“That bloody man!” he exclaimed at the published photo. Martyn had went into his things and found his metal box.

“It’s the day I married Agatha almost a century ago,” the man explained because it couldn’t see what he could, “She disappeared and I never found her.”
He put a hand on his belly.

“Technically, I married your daddy, too,” he said while rubbing it, “so you’re not a bastard, remember that.”

It was hard to see his life presented as a case study. Even harder to see the documents where Torchwood had done the same thing. Three pages of them shrunk to fit in one corner although he could still read them fine…almost fine. He squinted his blue eyes.

“I think your papa might need some glasses, but being over two thousand years old, that’s understandable,” he tried to joke because he was afraid of what would come next. What would Martyn have found so interesting about Jack?

“…The death of Torchwood team member Melody White has had an ill effect on the Torchwood team, exceptionally so in the case of Field Agent Captain Jack Harkness. Captain Harkness was particularly close to Miss White with him having initially been responsible for her recruitment some years previously and the two of them maintaining an undisclosed personal relationship. Her death in the line of duty has affected Captain Harkness deeply with Jack blaming himself for her demise, and he has subsequently asked to be released from obligations; expressing a desire to step down from further Torchwood involvement. The incident of Miss White’s death occurred one week prior to this report during an investigation involving an alien entity which discharged an electrical pulse when confronted by the Torchwood team, Captain Harkness was knocked unconscious instantly by the charge but by his unique immunity, awoke to find Miss White dead and the entity gone. Captain Harkness, having returned Miss White’s body to Torchwood Cardiff, disappeared from action for several days but returned with the creature’s corpse and an uncompromising temperament. He was undoubtedly affected by the sudden death of a close colleague and told to take a sabbatical for two weeks,” he read and took a deep breath, “I never change. It never changes.”

With a few changes, it could have easily been written in June. It was this recurring pattern of finding an employee, getting too close to them, losing them and losing himself afterwards and he didn’t know what he was supposed to do about it. There was something else that bothered him though. When was the last time he had even thought about Melody before Ianto died? Was it on what used to be her birthday? Was he able to go almost a whole year without thinking about her even though at one point, she was his world? Did Ianto have a point as much he hated to admit it? Someday, he might find someone else and when he did, would he only remember the young Welshman on a certain day in August? Would he forget even that?

He’d promised. He’d promised that he’d remember him forever; a thousand years from now, two thousands years from now, however long his life was. Now, how was he going to do that if he had almost forgotten Melody in less than a hundred years?
There were summersaults by his stomach and he thought of that last visit. Ianto had promised to be there every time Jack died. Was that going to be forever? It would be nice to have someone to share the darkness with, but he had no way of checking if this was true except for dying which he could not do.

“I don’t want to do anything to put you in danger ever again,” Jack said, rubbing the bump again.

The next two pages were about Suzie, including a picture of her as a little girl with her blue bag. No one would have ever guessed she’d grow up to be a psychopath. He turned the page to find Owen.

“…My favorite position in Torchwood? Doggie!” he read from the copied personnel survey and laughed before turning his attention to his belly, “That would be Owen and I won’t explain what that is today or for a very long time. You’ll have to be a lot older for that conversation.”

It hit him then.

“I’m pregnant, really pregnant and when you’re born, I’m going to be your papa and not just every weekend or every so often, but every single day. I’ve never done that before,” he admitted and studied the painted ceiling, “It’s a bit scary, actually. If I mess up, I hope you won’t hate me for it.”

The words in Martyn’s handwriting grabbed his attention.

“Weird. Self-destructive, nihilistic, womanizer, drunkard, self-abuser, misogynist – everyone you talk to about Owen says that,” Jack read and saw how Martyn blamed Jack for it, “But only since 2006 – which, surprise, surprise, is when he hooked up with Jolly Jack…seems to have lost it when his fiancee…died.”

He’d lost it, too, hadn’t he? All those things he’d told Owen when she died, he was the biggest hypocrite.

‘There's no reason. Your life doesn't end with her. What are you gonna do now? Go back to work? See echoes of her in every corridor? You need a purpose,’ he had said that to him in the cemetery. Someone should have told him that. He supposed Gwen had tried in her own way, but she had wanted him to go back to the way things were except not having Ianto. It made sense. It’s what they did after Owen and Tosh died except he couldn’t do it this time after Ianto and Steven. Owen had needed to be told a purpose to strive for and he still became…how Martyn had described him.

“I don’t want to be that, have I been like that?” he asked and remembered how he’d slept with John Hart three times, “I want to live again, have a purpose…you’re my purpose, aren’t you?”

Jack laid a hand on his bump and felt the kick both ways. He went back to the book.

October 22nd, 2009, Part Two