Jack- November 17th, 2009
Dec. 1st, 2009 11:11 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ericadawn16Title: But Time Didn’t Stop
Characters: Jack, Gwen, Rhi, Mica Jack/Ianto
Rated: TV-14 Sexual Situations ANGST COE Spoilers MPREG
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Summary: Jack makes plans with Gwen and Rhi.
Author's Note: Starts after COE, yes, the chronology might be weird...
Previous Chapter: November 16th, 2009
Masterlist: http://ericadawn16.livejournal.com/63337.html
November 17th, 2009
“April 9, 2008 Jack said he loved me! Well, not exactly, but he did say, ‘Being here, I've seen things I never dreamt I'd see. Loved people I never would have known if I'd just stayed where I was. And I wouldn't change that for the world’ and I think that may be as close as I ever get. I am also sounding painfully like a twelve year old girl. Love tends to make one bonkers, doesn’t it?
Then, I took him in that large, desk chair of his office. I love looking at him afterwards as we’re both panting. He has sweat and cum and bliss all over his body and I have this weird sense of accomplishment, like I did that,” Jack read and couldn’t help the smile that came on his face. Those were some of his favorite times, too.
By the end, he’d even grown to love…cuddling. Now, that was something he’d never live down if anyone knew. Then, another thought hit him.
“I can’t let anyone read these,” he spoke with a hand caressing his bump, “or at least not without editing certain pages.”
“May 16, 2008 It’s strange seeing Owen. At times, he seems alive yet he’s not. I remember the bullet hitting his chest and when he was lying on the table. I try not to think how that’ll be me someday on that table.
In the meantime, Owen is Owen and death has done nothing to change that. If anything, he’s worse at times, but I was taught never to speak ill of the dead. Actually, my father preferred not to talk of anything of that nature especially because of my mum.
Sometimes, I still wonder about becoming like her. She seemed so normal before the accident,” he recited and mused on how they never talked much about his parents. It was clear that Ianto didn’t like saying anything. He did know about his mum though and how she was living at Providence Park, but pumped so full of drugs that she didn’t recognize him anymore. To his knowledge, no one had even tried to explaining to her that her son was dead.
“June 24, 2008 Gwen is a married woman now. I’m pleased for her, but it was exhausting and now I’m in a rented bed by myself. Jack is one of his moods again. I’m not sure if it was the wedding or seeing her pregnant. Both tend to have a repelling effect on him. I keep hoping for him to show up,” the man read and regretted that he had never returned. Instead, he had gone back to the Hub to have a private pity party of his own with the photos in his metal box, he whispered, “I suppose I should find a picture of Ianto to put with them.”
He hadn’t looked at it since Gwen gave it to him. When he retrieved the other diaries, he left the box in the bank vault.
“July 27, 2008 They’re still dead. Last night, I just held Jack all night as he wept. I cried when we took their names out of the system, but one of us needs to be strong and it’s not going to be him. It hit him hard. Gwen and I are devastated, but we aren’t blaming ourselves the way he is and I don’t know how to fix that. I hate him seeing him suffer,” the former leader of Torchwood recited and then, he read it again, “Your daddy told me to live. He didn’t want me to blame myself, but he didn’t know to fix it and I don’t know either.”
He turned a few more pages and it opened easily because of a thick envelope placed there. There was no writing on the outside as he opened and he gasped at the surprise. Inside were photographs; dozens of them. Many of them were Ianto with Jack, but there were also Ianto with Gwen, Ianto by himself, and Ianto with others and one which was the most precious one of all…a group shot with all of them except Jack in front of the dragon.
“Oh, baby, I can’t wait to show you who your father was,” Jack said with a smile despite his blue eyes tearing up. He tore himself away from the pictures to read the entries until just one remained.
“This is the last remaining diary entry he ever wrote,” he read and the baby squirmed from his agitation, “August 3, 2008 The Rift was quiet today, for once. Too bad Jack was in one of his moods. Martha’s left now that the funeral is over and appears to have taken any hope for Jack with her. Today, he asked me if I ever wished I’d never been hired by Torchwood. I tried to lighten the mood by replying if he wished he’d never hired me, but that’s not what he meant. He meant London. Of course, I’ve thought about it. The temp agency could have sent me somewhere else; BBC or a lawyer or Wernham Hogg and I would be bored to tears. I never would have met Lisa and I never would have met Jack. I have to admit that at this point, the thought of never having met Jack is far more upsetting. Would I change a thing? No. Jack is one of the most frustrating people on Earth, but when he gives me that smile; the smile reserved for me alone, then it’s worth it. That smile betrays him and what he could never say aloud. He may claim never to love again. He may claim not to feel, but that smile says otherwise. I know he loves me when he smiles like that.
Coming here, gave me meaning again…that was odd. Writing that felt like Déjà vu. I know what this job does to people. I know a lot of employees never saw their thirtieth birthday. I might not even see my twenty-fifth. Something could happen tomorrow. No one ever knows. All those mates I worked with in London, they thought it would be a normal day and by the end of it, they were dead. All of them. It was just me and twenty-six other people. We remained of an entire organization that employed hundreds. I talk to Jack about when I’m old, but I don’t think that’s going to happen. I don’t think I’ll be an old man with white hair and a cane. I just hope I die like Owen or Tosh and not because a Weevil mauled me or something. I want the world a better place for Mica and David and now I have to start a new diary.”
At that, he couldn’t help crying and after a few more days, he took the train back.
He lay on the couch almost as soon as he entered the house and took out his mobile.
“Gwen, how are you?” he asked after she answered the ring.
“I’m exhausted, I’m as big as a whale and Prime Minister won’t stop calling me over the stupidest things,” Gwen’s voice answered and he smiled, “But what about you, Jack?”
“I’m trying to be better,” he replied, telling her the truth, “I need you to meet me at Grangemoor Park next Tuesday.”
“The girls are throwing me a party on the fifth, you could come then,” the Welshwoman suggested because she probably suspected what he was planning.
“No, I’d rather meet at the park at 7:30,” Jack told her and tried to readjust the pillows around him. The pause lasted forever until she spoke again.
“I miss you, Jack…”
“Make sure to bring that item you mentioned,” the former leader of Torchwood interrupted and waited for her response.
“Of course, I’ll see you then,” her voice said and hung up. Somehow, even the reflection in the unused telly was frowning at him. Still, this was the only way. He scrolled through his contacts and called Rhi.
“Hello,” said a young voice.
“Hi, Mica,” he spoke and she became confused.
“Who’s this? How do you know my name?” she demanded in her high pitch tone.
“I’m your Uncle Jack,” the man replied with a grin at how cute it was.
“Oh,” the voice responded and screamed, “MUM! Uncle Jack’s on the phone!”
It was just a minute or two before he heard Rhi on the line, saying, “Jack, does this mean you’re back in Cardiff?”
“I am and I wanted to see you,” he said, walking his fingers across the bump.
“You can meet me at the play area tomorrow; the one on Darwin Drive, I’m taking Mica after school…,” she spoke and there was a muffled voice away from the microphone, “Why? Because you spend entirely too much time in front of that screen, you need some fresh air…I’m sorry, Jack, but it’d be nice to see you again.”
“I’ll be there,” he promised, “Thanks, Rhi.”
She said her goodbye and he hung up, not wanting to move from that spot so he slipped off his shoes using the edge of the couch and stretched his feet.
November 25th, 2009
Characters: Jack, Gwen, Rhi, Mica Jack/Ianto
Rated: TV-14 Sexual Situations ANGST COE Spoilers MPREG
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Summary: Jack makes plans with Gwen and Rhi.
Author's Note: Starts after COE, yes, the chronology might be weird...
Previous Chapter: November 16th, 2009
Masterlist: http://ericadawn16.livejournal.com/63337.html
November 17th, 2009
“April 9, 2008 Jack said he loved me! Well, not exactly, but he did say, ‘Being here, I've seen things I never dreamt I'd see. Loved people I never would have known if I'd just stayed where I was. And I wouldn't change that for the world’ and I think that may be as close as I ever get. I am also sounding painfully like a twelve year old girl. Love tends to make one bonkers, doesn’t it?
Then, I took him in that large, desk chair of his office. I love looking at him afterwards as we’re both panting. He has sweat and cum and bliss all over his body and I have this weird sense of accomplishment, like I did that,” Jack read and couldn’t help the smile that came on his face. Those were some of his favorite times, too.
By the end, he’d even grown to love…cuddling. Now, that was something he’d never live down if anyone knew. Then, another thought hit him.
“I can’t let anyone read these,” he spoke with a hand caressing his bump, “or at least not without editing certain pages.”
“May 16, 2008 It’s strange seeing Owen. At times, he seems alive yet he’s not. I remember the bullet hitting his chest and when he was lying on the table. I try not to think how that’ll be me someday on that table.
In the meantime, Owen is Owen and death has done nothing to change that. If anything, he’s worse at times, but I was taught never to speak ill of the dead. Actually, my father preferred not to talk of anything of that nature especially because of my mum.
Sometimes, I still wonder about becoming like her. She seemed so normal before the accident,” he recited and mused on how they never talked much about his parents. It was clear that Ianto didn’t like saying anything. He did know about his mum though and how she was living at Providence Park, but pumped so full of drugs that she didn’t recognize him anymore. To his knowledge, no one had even tried to explaining to her that her son was dead.
“June 24, 2008 Gwen is a married woman now. I’m pleased for her, but it was exhausting and now I’m in a rented bed by myself. Jack is one of his moods again. I’m not sure if it was the wedding or seeing her pregnant. Both tend to have a repelling effect on him. I keep hoping for him to show up,” the man read and regretted that he had never returned. Instead, he had gone back to the Hub to have a private pity party of his own with the photos in his metal box, he whispered, “I suppose I should find a picture of Ianto to put with them.”
He hadn’t looked at it since Gwen gave it to him. When he retrieved the other diaries, he left the box in the bank vault.
“July 27, 2008 They’re still dead. Last night, I just held Jack all night as he wept. I cried when we took their names out of the system, but one of us needs to be strong and it’s not going to be him. It hit him hard. Gwen and I are devastated, but we aren’t blaming ourselves the way he is and I don’t know how to fix that. I hate him seeing him suffer,” the former leader of Torchwood recited and then, he read it again, “Your daddy told me to live. He didn’t want me to blame myself, but he didn’t know to fix it and I don’t know either.”
He turned a few more pages and it opened easily because of a thick envelope placed there. There was no writing on the outside as he opened and he gasped at the surprise. Inside were photographs; dozens of them. Many of them were Ianto with Jack, but there were also Ianto with Gwen, Ianto by himself, and Ianto with others and one which was the most precious one of all…a group shot with all of them except Jack in front of the dragon.
“Oh, baby, I can’t wait to show you who your father was,” Jack said with a smile despite his blue eyes tearing up. He tore himself away from the pictures to read the entries until just one remained.
“This is the last remaining diary entry he ever wrote,” he read and the baby squirmed from his agitation, “August 3, 2008 The Rift was quiet today, for once. Too bad Jack was in one of his moods. Martha’s left now that the funeral is over and appears to have taken any hope for Jack with her. Today, he asked me if I ever wished I’d never been hired by Torchwood. I tried to lighten the mood by replying if he wished he’d never hired me, but that’s not what he meant. He meant London. Of course, I’ve thought about it. The temp agency could have sent me somewhere else; BBC or a lawyer or Wernham Hogg and I would be bored to tears. I never would have met Lisa and I never would have met Jack. I have to admit that at this point, the thought of never having met Jack is far more upsetting. Would I change a thing? No. Jack is one of the most frustrating people on Earth, but when he gives me that smile; the smile reserved for me alone, then it’s worth it. That smile betrays him and what he could never say aloud. He may claim never to love again. He may claim not to feel, but that smile says otherwise. I know he loves me when he smiles like that.
Coming here, gave me meaning again…that was odd. Writing that felt like Déjà vu. I know what this job does to people. I know a lot of employees never saw their thirtieth birthday. I might not even see my twenty-fifth. Something could happen tomorrow. No one ever knows. All those mates I worked with in London, they thought it would be a normal day and by the end of it, they were dead. All of them. It was just me and twenty-six other people. We remained of an entire organization that employed hundreds. I talk to Jack about when I’m old, but I don’t think that’s going to happen. I don’t think I’ll be an old man with white hair and a cane. I just hope I die like Owen or Tosh and not because a Weevil mauled me or something. I want the world a better place for Mica and David and now I have to start a new diary.”
At that, he couldn’t help crying and after a few more days, he took the train back.
He lay on the couch almost as soon as he entered the house and took out his mobile.
“Gwen, how are you?” he asked after she answered the ring.
“I’m exhausted, I’m as big as a whale and Prime Minister won’t stop calling me over the stupidest things,” Gwen’s voice answered and he smiled, “But what about you, Jack?”
“I’m trying to be better,” he replied, telling her the truth, “I need you to meet me at Grangemoor Park next Tuesday.”
“The girls are throwing me a party on the fifth, you could come then,” the Welshwoman suggested because she probably suspected what he was planning.
“No, I’d rather meet at the park at 7:30,” Jack told her and tried to readjust the pillows around him. The pause lasted forever until she spoke again.
“I miss you, Jack…”
“Make sure to bring that item you mentioned,” the former leader of Torchwood interrupted and waited for her response.
“Of course, I’ll see you then,” her voice said and hung up. Somehow, even the reflection in the unused telly was frowning at him. Still, this was the only way. He scrolled through his contacts and called Rhi.
“Hello,” said a young voice.
“Hi, Mica,” he spoke and she became confused.
“Who’s this? How do you know my name?” she demanded in her high pitch tone.
“I’m your Uncle Jack,” the man replied with a grin at how cute it was.
“Oh,” the voice responded and screamed, “MUM! Uncle Jack’s on the phone!”
It was just a minute or two before he heard Rhi on the line, saying, “Jack, does this mean you’re back in Cardiff?”
“I am and I wanted to see you,” he said, walking his fingers across the bump.
“You can meet me at the play area tomorrow; the one on Darwin Drive, I’m taking Mica after school…,” she spoke and there was a muffled voice away from the microphone, “Why? Because you spend entirely too much time in front of that screen, you need some fresh air…I’m sorry, Jack, but it’d be nice to see you again.”
“I’ll be there,” he promised, “Thanks, Rhi.”
She said her goodbye and he hung up, not wanting to move from that spot so he slipped off his shoes using the edge of the couch and stretched his feet.
November 25th, 2009
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2009-12-01 08:19 pm (UTC)Thanks for sharing!
no subject
Date: 2009-12-06 03:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-12-01 10:09 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-12-06 03:14 pm (UTC)Well, I definitely wrote it to try and get rid of my bad taste...it hasn't worked quite yet, but I'm hoping.
no subject
Date: 2009-12-02 07:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-12-06 03:14 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-12-04 04:24 am (UTC)Just finished reading all the parts of this beautiful story. I really like what you've done so far (as an MPREG fan, I'm always beside myself with glee when I see a good one come along in that genre).
One little criticism - and I apologize for bringing it up, but it's just because it's something I used to be quite guilty of in my own writing: overuse of a descriptive as a pronoun. I'm afraid by this last part I've developed a twitch anytime I see the phrase 'the former leader of Torchwood'. ;) 'Jack' or 'he' would work just as well in place of most of those occurrences.
That aside, I think this is a terrific story and I hope there will be more soon. :)
no subject
Date: 2009-12-06 03:21 pm (UTC)Yes, back in 2006 or 2007 when I first tried writing slash, I was told to vary "name" and "he" with other pronouns because it would sound better. Since that person was more of an expert in slash, that's what I did and it became habit.
I also wanted to use it in this story to show how he first thinks of himself of Leader and then it becomes "former leader" which leads to a dialogue exchange later on.
However, one of my betas had the very same complaint so by the end, I pretty much was just writing "he" or "Jack". Feel free to smack me if something else comes up or I'm still using it too much.
Thank you for the in-depth review!!! Also, I put up the rest of Jack's conversation with Rhi.
no subject
Date: 2009-12-06 07:28 pm (UTC)LOL It's a VERY good MPREG.
Yes, back in 2006 or 2007 when I first tried writing slash, I was told to vary "name" and "he" with other pronouns because it would sound better.
Yeah and not just with slash - I got the same advice way back in the 90s when I was writing genfic and I still agree with it. I think, like with anything in writing, though, it's simply a balance issue.
I also wanted to use it in this story to show how he first thinks of himself of Leader and then it becomes "former leader" which leads to a dialogue exchange later on.
Understandable and I do think it works well in some contexts - just not quite so well in others. :)
Thank you for the in-depth review!!! Also, I put up the rest of Jack's conversation with Rhi.
NP and Yay! I'm cheating and replying at work, but I'll probably have to be good and wait until I get home to actually read it. *sigh* Being good is no fun.