DW/TW Fic: Harbour [Part 4]

[fictional]

Title: Harbour
Pairing/Characters: Jack/Ianto, Ten + appearances by TW Team
Authors: rm & kalichan
Rating/Warning: NC-17, slash, some hints of d/s, toys, romance, angst.
Summary: Everything happens only a certain number of times.
Wordcount: ~30,000 words, posted in 4 parts.
Authors' Notes: This is the final installment of our series, I Had No Idea I Had Been Traveling. Next up (eventually): some digressions and interludes, and a dvd commentary! Also, we'll be bringing you a new 'verse, with our as-yet-untitled Jenny/Ianto/Jack fic. Thank you all for coming on this journey with us. We've had a brilliant time.

Previous installments:
1. A Strange Fashion of Forsaking | 2. Dear Captain, Last Night I Slept in Mutiny | 3. To Learn This Holding and the Holding Back | 4. The Most Beautiful Girl in the World | 5. I Imagine You Now in That Other City | 6. Many of My Favorite Things Are Broken | 6.5 Up, Down, Strange, Charm, Truth, Beauty: or, A Child's Guide to Modern Physics | 7. In Our Bedroom After the War | 8. And I Cannot Know How Long She Has Dreamed of All of You [Jack/Nine/Rose] | 9. The Spectacular Catastrophe of Your Endless Childhood [Ianto/OFCs, Ianto/Lisa] | 10. There Are Some Men Who Should Have Mountains To Bear Their Names To Time

Harbour, Part 1
Harbour, Part 2
Harbour, Part 3

There was a moment, just a moment, as they went down towards the tourist office opening where Ianto wanted to panic because he had no idea how to do this, no idea how to be fine, no idea how to keep pretending the future wasn't coming or how to cope with Jack not knowing any of it.

At least he hoped he didn't. In truth, he wasn't actually sure, but Jack was poor at holding his tongue, and Ianto thought that maybe he was safe from whatever terrible conversation lurking between them he would be duty-bound to prevent.

But the fact was, it didn't matter, any of it. He didn't have a choice. He was here now, at Jack's side, and he always would be. Plus, he'd read Oedipus back in school. Running away from your fate was generally how you wound up stuck with it. But that was sort of the problem, as if he no longer knew which way was right and which was left although in a few days or weeks or maybe, if he were really lucky, months... either turn was going to bring him to exactly the same place.

"It'll be strange," he said suddenly, not even sure what he meant by it, but the silence between them and the noise in his head suddenly felt too much to bear.

"You haven't had a lot of sleep. If you want to go straight to bed, I'll fend them off for you."

"No. No, I should see everyone, and it's morning anyway," he said, remembering how Jack had made him say goodbye when they'd left. Just in case. Just in case, indeed. Jack'd had no idea.

The strange thing though, the truly strange thing, was all the ways in which this felt easy. This place was familiar. This life, as if it was somehow the only one he'd ever had, when that wasn't true at all.

But maybe being near Jack really did fix a man in place. Maybe it meant there was no Ianto Jones in any alternate universe anywhere, or maybe, in all those universes he'd always wind up being bound here, to Jack's side, forever, except maybe in some world where Jack was mortal and Lisa never died.

Ianto shrugged at his own thought. It didn't matter. Not really. Not anymore. He'd been ready to die for a long time. Maybe when he lost Lisa, sure, but maybe even back when he just couldn't find anything to do with himself in university, maybe when he'd wandered Europe. He didn't know. Never would. All he was ever going to have was this smugness that somehow, out of all of it, he'd gotten so much more than he deserved. A thief till the end, like all the urchins in books his father had started to read to him and never ever, it seemed, got around to finishing.

Ianto smiled. Maybe he'd fool them all yet. Maybe, whatever it was that creepy, horrifying Torchwood situations kept informing them was moving in the dark, maybe he'd be able to steal that. He didn't want to really, but it sounded funny, in his head at least.

"What are you laughing at?" Jack asked.

"Home is an underground lair with a pterodactyl," he said automatically and wondered if there had ever been a time when he wasn't used to lying.

"We can go to your flat tonight if you want."

Ianto tried not to wince at Jack being solicitous. "We'll see," he said noncommittally. When they got to the last door into the main area of the Hub, Jack put a hand on the small of his back and ushered him through.

Everyone, it seemed, had been waiting for them, and Ianto realized that he had no idea what he was supposed to tell them about where he'd been. Somehow the grand tour of time and space didn't seem like the right answer, not when the rest of his -- and there was simply no other appropriate word -- family had been stuck here, earthbound.

Ravi, Andy and Maeve hung back a bit, and Ianto thought somewhere in the back of his brain about how easily they'd all established their hierarchies these days.

Gwen came forward to greet them, and he looked at her, cataloguing for any changes, but she seemed just the same. More muscled than when she'd joined Torchwood. The faint scar on her cheek. Her eyes more tired, more determined than when he'd first seen her in the Tourist Information Office, but always brimming with affection when they looked at him. And why would anything have changed? For her, it'd just been a week. For him, it felt like half a lifetime crammed into whatever space of time they'd actually been gone.

Her eyes darted to Jack first, as they always would, and she stepped forward into his arms as he bent to kiss the top of her head. But it was only a quick moment before she freed herself and came into his, stretching up to plant a kiss on his cheek and to ruffle his hair. Ianto huffed at her, just as he always had, secretly pleased but trying his utmost not to show it.

"So?" she asked, as the rest of the team came forward to cluster around them. "Everything all right?"

"It is now," Jack said, and Ianto bent his head to hide his smile, because somewhere along the way, though he didn't know how, Jack had learnt something that could be mistaken for tact.

"We figured business as usual," Andy chimed in, "because if you needed us, you'd have called, and if you didn't, we should probably just keep things ticking along."

"Yes, and that was all spear-headed by Andy," Maeve said, "the rest of us just followed along in his wake."

Andy blushed, and Ravi leaned over to pull Maeve's hair. "Be nice!" he suggested. "Jack and Ianto just got back."

"I am perfectly nice," Maeve snapped. "And I'd watch it, if you don't want to lose that hand." Then with a dazzling smile, she added, "Welcome back, boys."

"Thank you," Ianto said, exchanging an amused glance with Jack.

"So what happened?" Gwen asked. "Tell us."

"Most of it, we can't," Jack said quickly.

"What was it like though?" Gwen asked Ianto, and for once, he could see and understand the longing in her eyes, the longing for something that she knew would never happen and didn't even want, but somehow ached for anyway, because wouldn't anyone?

"Terrible," he said simply. "Terrifying. ... And beautiful."

Gwen nodded slowly, and placed her hand in his; Ianto squeezed it and then pulled her in, so he could put his arm around her.

Jack looked at all of them fondly, and then began climbing the stairs to his office.

"Gwen," he called, "with me. I'll want to be filled in on matters imminent and then not so imminent. Then we'll all go down to the pub, and have a lunchtime pint or two. Celebration, huh?"

Gwen smiled at Ianto before slipping out of his arms to follow Jack up the stairs.

The rest of them clustered around Ianto, who felt their presence -- human, familiar, affectionate -- like unaccustomed warmth.

"Oh, and Ianto," Jack bellowed from the landing by his office, "Dinner tonight? Eight?"

"Yes, sir," Ianto said, and felt, for one brief moment, things returning to their usual orbit and clicking back into place. He smiled and then turned back to the rest of the team. "So, what have you lot been doing while we were off?"

He could breathe again. He was home. Even if home were scary, even if home was the hardest work a person could imagine, even if home meant, in the end, death -- he was back. And he was so glad.

~*~

Naturally, no one had thought to take care of the weevil cages while they'd been gone. The more things change, Ianto thought with a sigh two days after their return, as he trudged down to the containment level, in order to take care of it himself.

Torchwood. Not glamourous, perhaps. But all that was on offer.

Besides, it was hard to get safer than mucking out cells. He derided himself for his cowardice, but there was something extremely unnerving about the whole situation. He kept jumping at sounds, wondering if this was it, if this was the moment, if he were ready (and he was actually fairly certain he wouldn't be).

Somehow there was never any doubt in his mind about whether the conclusion he'd come to was true.

Because sure, the Doctor had never said anything to him straight out, and somewhere distantly, Ianto knew he'd never grown out of being a morbid fucker, but still. There was no other way to read what had happened. Somehow -- either he'd seen it, or heard about it, or for all Ianto knew, he'd been told by some future version of Jack -- he'd known that Ianto was going to die. Maybe there were other explanations, but Ianto knew to the core of his being that this was the right one.

And what had the Doctor come up with, with all time and space at his disposal? A solution? A way to save him? No, Ianto thought with a wave of frustration. He'd just taken them on an all-expenses paid tour of the universe. Fun, but useless.

It figured, he found himself thinking rebelliously. Even if it really was the best thing that had ever happened to him. Even if others -- Tosh -- would have been so jealous.

~*~

Whatever hiatus the Rift had taken, it seemed to have come to an end. After the easy times they'd been having, it was almost a shock when the first really horrifying thing for some time came through, several alien killer insects -- sort of intergalactic locusts -- that would, in short time, give birth and devour everything in their path.

They were working all hours, trying to fight the things, which seemed to want to make the Earth their new hive planet. Until Maeve came up with a chemical formula for something they could release into the air which made them sterile, and then it was just a matter of hunting the seven or so left.

After that it was several Arcturan pirates, pulled through the Rift, in the midst of a smuggling operation, who had to be convinced not to open fire on the city streets, sure that their arrival was a trick of some kind, and Torchwood had to frantically broker the negotiations; a Viking ship that had invaded Wales, having been transported through time to their 21st century shores; and a gang of Blowfish who were causing mayhem all through the streets, while alien bounty hunters arrived seemingly to stalk Cardiff's children.

They were spread as thin as they'd ever been in their worst days and everyone at Torchwood was working flat out.

Jack, though, when distributing his team kept Ianto out of it as best he could, for as long as he could. He tried to tell himself he wasn't doing it, but of course, he was. And there were many perfectly good reasons why Ianto was needed to be kept at the Hub monitoring things; they always needed a man there, anyway, and it made sense, strategic sense, for it to be Ianto, Jack told himself repeatedly.


He was on the Viking ship with Andy when his comlink beeped.

"Rift spike," Ianto's voice said into his ear. "And I'm looking on the CCTV, and seeing it... It's odd, it looks like robots? With something like clockwork inside their heads? But we're getting some organic readings too. Just a couple though."

At that, Jack cursed helplessly and made a quick sign to Andy, because he recognized the description -- a 51st century army, with its clockwork gears and living parts, which was undoubtedly sending back a live feed to their sentient masters, whoever they might be -- and he was trapped on this Viking ship, with no hope of getting to shore in time without a fucking teleport. Something inside Jack grew very, very cold.

"Okay," he barked. "We need to get rid of them fast. Where is everybody?"

"Gwen's on the bounty hunters. Looks like Ravi's got a little UNIT task force mustered, and they're closing in on the Blowfish. Maeve's with me."

"Okay, we need you out on the bridge as fast as possible. Both of you. Bring the big guns. There's not a second to waste. And get talking to UNIT."

"Yes, sir," Ianto rapped out, and Jack forced down the sickness rising in his gut. Because there was no point. And Ianto would have hated him forever if he'd done anything different, anyway.



Speeding on their way to the bridge, Maeve looked over at Ianto, who was charging one of the alien weapons they had confiscated from the pirates.

"You all right?" she asked.

"Fine," he said curtly. "Let's just do this." Because he knew if he allowed himself the luxury of freaking out, he would be a useless puddle on the floor.

Oh god, this is it, he thought to himself. This is it.

And then they were there and leaping out of the car.


It was only on the way back to the Hub, after they'd collected all the scraps of alien technology and placed them in the SUV, after Maeve had sewn up the cut on her own arm herself and then popped Ianto's shoulder back in (again, he thought dismally) and bandaged his leg that the pounding in his chest began to slow.

It was then that he began laughing and couldn't stop. Because he was alive, still alive. They'd made it. This time, they'd made it. And it was pure joy.

He'd back-slided a bit, since they'd come back, but now he knew instinctively and with surety that there'd be no more of that. No more of this obsessive counting, of leaping at every noise and sudden jerk. He simply didn't have time. Because he could get hit by a bus tomorrow. Or be shot by a Blowfish. Or slip while having a bath. Or the Rift would suddenly vomit up the bane that had been reserved specially for him when their destinies were being written, perhaps somewhere on the side of a mountain even.

There was no way to know when it was coming. Only that it was.

He thought of a line he'd read once. You get what everyone gets. You get a lifetime.

He'd make a list, Ianto thought to himself. Of things he needed to get done. And do them all, as he could. Do everything, the Doctor had told him. And he would. Some of the things he was going to do would be terrible, as were so many of the things they had to do at Torchwood in order to protect this tiny world and each other. Some of them would be small and sweet. The scale hardly mattered.

"Have you gone entirely crackers?" Maeve hissed, as she rounded a corner at a ridiculous speed, clearly having attended the Jack Harkness School of Driving with less than stellar results. "You must be in serious amounts of pain. Why the bloody hell are you laughing?"

"Even if I told you, you'd never believe it," he assured her.

~*~

That night, as he lay with Jack in the room they'd made -- with explosions, with lies, with infinite love -- the place that lay under the foundations of their work, he laughed quietly to himself again.

Because they might not have decided to come to Torchwood of their own volition, either of them -- and of course they hadn't, much as babies don't decide for themselves to be born -- but they had chosen to find here an unexpected home. And they'd chosen to stay. Over and over -- battered and broken, freakish and monstrous, petty and terrible as they were -- he and Jack had constructed their own small, fragile oasis here, carved out for themselves this room, this work, this improbable, impossible existence and written it into being.

And it had been, it was good. He'd do it again. All of it. In a heartbeat.

Ianto didn't believe in god anymore. But, he thought, this life, it was a prayer. It was the only prayer he knew.



"How do you feel?" Jack asked.

"Honestly? Great. Excellent."

"Really?" he said skeptically, eyeing Ianto's various wounds. "Why's that?"

Ianto merely smiled.

Jack looked over at the glitter in his eyes and thought it was like looking into an image as it sharpens into focus, the grainy blur resolving into heightened, intense lines. He had thought the immediate, piercing sweetness of seeing Ianto again, the flood of relief, would have faded in the hours since he'd known he was safe -- this time -- but it hadn't. Not in the slightest.

Don't go, he wanted to scream. Don't leave me behind.

But he couldn't. He had to let him go. When it was time, he'd have to unclench his hand, and let Ianto slide out of it.

Still, he thought defiantly, this was the life they shared and no matter what happened in the future, no matter if someday he woke and could no longer remember the man he was right now, this was theirs. It would never happen again, not like this, not the same. Other loves and other worlds, but this one would be gone forever. And no one else could ever have it.

Something in Jack was ferociously pleased at the thought.

"What are you thinking?" he asked, looking at Ianto's face.

"It's a secret."

"You and your secrets," he said, with a rueful smile.

"I'll tell you," Ianto said, putting his head down on Jack's shoulder, after pressing a kiss into it. "Someday, I promise I'll tell you."

***

Jack --

Hopefully I've guessed right and you're actually reading this and I didn't leave it somewhere that's managed to get itself destroyed in whatever's happened. So you know, he didn't tell me, but he let me guess more than I should have. If you were with me, I'm sorry you had to see that, but I'm glad you were there. If you weren't, it's okay. I'm glad you weren't, and I'm good, I'm great. I mean, every day sometimes is a struggle not to weep that I got to have a life like this. Thank you.

Do whatever with my things. If there's no reason to put it in those awful storage lockers, please don't. If there's still a Torchwood, I'm not going to fight with you about the morgue, but if there's not, and I almost hope there's not, just do what makes you happy. If you bury me, I'd like it to be somewhere lush, but really, whatever suits. Eaten by vultures, I don't care. Although I think I already miss the stars.

So that's it then. Try to keep it together. Whatever this is, it's not the end of the world, and I suppose I'm a little bit sorry for that.

- Ianto

Oh! And I'll see you again. Not for a long time and you won't really even remember me, but I will. I promise. It's already happened.

Be grand.


the end

Comments

[lefaym.livejournal.com]

Oh, bloody hell, that was so bloody... perfect... I just don't know what to say.

I'm sitting here with a lump in my throat, and the line, "It was better than coins" swirling around in my head, thinking that I don't think the show itself could ever actually get this good.

Thank you so much, both of you, for writing this.

[kalichan.livejournal.com]

Thank you. We love them. A lot.

This was a really hard one to write for that reason, but also had to be done... for the same reason.

[celuran.livejournal.com]

Every single chapter of every chapter was so good I cried.

[kalichan.livejournal.com]

That is a fabulous compliment. Thank you.

[northern]

I'm sad that it's over, but it had to be, eventually, didn't it? Thank you so much for making this whole thing.

[kalichan.livejournal.com]

"Everything has its time, and everything ends."

Thank you for coming along with us!

[exbentley]

And now I'm sobbing; I think I'm too emotional to stick to my quote-and-comment style of earlier. I have no favourite bit. There are too many hilarious, evocative, painful lines to pick just one. But this letter. This ending. Oh, this ending.

This was pulled off perfectly. Of course, it's inevitable that Ianto dies. Thankyou for not copping out and affecting some astonishing feat of rescue or Doctor ex machina. Thankyou, also, for having the battle scenes and the acceptance and the rush and the letter but not lingering through the morbid details, not deliberately dangling his mortality in front of us. You have lived up to my every expectation.

Pretty much all of this fic has been about the tragedy inherent in their relationship, hasn't it? And at the same time it has been so much about living your life in spite of inevitability. In the same way that Sandman is, I suppose. Do everything and be grand.

At the end of a good solid book or a dramatic movie, as the credits roll, you're allowed a little leeway to think your life's been changed. It's less acceptable for fanfiction, but I definitely think that over the course of this series I've learned a lot as well as enjoyed myself. Maybe it isn't some great melodramatic life renovation, but the important changes never really are.

Thankyou, for stringing countless beautiful words together. Thankyou for telling me harsh, glorious true things. Thankyou for letting me see all the little pieces of yourselves which went into this fic, and thankyou for adding to all the little pieces of my self. Thankyou, in short, for a fic which shines among those rare fan-created masterpieces one never forgets. It's been magical.

[kalichan.livejournal.com]

Thank you! So much. Your comments have been ones to treasure throughout this whole long thing. And yes, Sandman. You get what everyone gets. You get a lifetime.

This story has meant so much to us, and having it be seen and understood is so, so precious, I don't think I even have words. Thank you.

[demotu.livejournal.com]

Ahhh, I can't cry cause I'm in the library but that really isn't going to stop me now. Bah. Gah. *pokes at eyes with pashmina until she can see the screen again*

I don't think you could have ended it better, really. The whole adventure, for one, the Doctor's only real gift for anyone - time, just time, and what else is there for a Time Lord? Jack and Ianto together with him, not an inch overdone but so much everything, and god if that jail cell scene wasn't wickedly hot and completely hilarious. All the tie-backs to the previous parts - the I Love You (Most beautiful girl...) Jans, the room they built for Jack, references to Boe, driving in the car/spaceship, the library in the spaceship, all the way back to the breathplay. Every reference pulled up all the emotions that went along with each of those individual stories, it felt so complete, so much like a whole life for Ianto, in an odd way.

Be grand.

Cripes. That's what this story was - absolutely grand, but not even in the slang sense, in the literal sense. I think I need to print these all, bind them some way so I can put them on my shelf to reread. I don't suppose you have them in word documents or some such thing? Oh, hey, and does this mean I can finally rec the whole thing at TWH?

I don't think I could have stood it if you killed Ianto on-screen, but I wasn't expecting how wonderful you made the end. You were true to the fear that has to come with that sort of knowing so few of us get, about our deaths - Ianto wasn't immune just because of his experiences. (I love that in particular about Ianto, that he always strikes me as normal, an everyman thrown into situations he only can barely grasp, but he weathers it so beautifully and is somehow still true to himself.) But the Doctor's words, and his own understanding pushed him past that fear so he could live, really live, until - whatever it was, whenever it was, and I'm so so glad you didn't tell us. The letter was perfect, the scene at the beginning, too.

[rm.livejournal.com]

I think we may only have some of them directly in word as we used googledocs for a lot of the early ones (until they got too long and crashed the system).

And yes, it's all done. A complete, non-work in progress _thing_.

We do know, for the record, how Ianto dies, because we figured it out for our own morbid rolling around in the grief thing, but tha and that type of voyeurism was never what we wanted this story to be about. The point is that it doesn't matter how Ianto dies or even that Jack can't. It's how they live.

We've had that letter on hand for a long time and writing to such a fixed place was very hard in the end, because there were all these digressions, but it was there we kept having to arrive at.

I love how the opening turned out. earlier on I said to Kali "more Neil Gaiman, Less Douglas Adams!" and I think we got the perfect mix there.

Thank you so much both for the compliments and your support through this whole thing.

[flowright.livejournal.com]

I didn't actually cry but the tears were definitely ready to flow any time from the moment the Doctor said to Ianto he was a glad he was going to see Ianto once again later in his timeline (I was like: NOOOOO FORESHADOWING è_é;; <-- really angry smiley ).

I love how you put your readers on the edge of Ianto's death but skip the easy angst some beginners would have so easily used as a trope. The last part was very peaceful to read. It felt very positive despite the quiet impending doom of Ianto's mortality.

[rm.livejournal.com]

Thank you so much. Despite the way this arc began, it was very important to us to not make it voyeuristic about death.

[cageyklio.livejournal.com]

Honestly, I can't find the words. Hugs and kisses to you both for making this so damned beautiful.

[rm.livejournal.com]

Thank you!

[marvola.livejournal.com]

This was absolutely perfect! The end was inevitable, yet rather than being a sad ending, there was so much hope and joy there. What a wonderful, inspiring message to leave the series on!

You absolutely killed me when Jack was silently weeping as Ianto slept, by the way.

And I'll be honest. The opening wasn't really to my taste at all, but the rest more than made up for it.

[rm.livejournal.com]

Thank you!

One of the things that is challenging for us about DW/TW is the myriad of tonal qualities and we tried to include all of those at various points in the fic. All of them aren't to the taste of all readers (and hell, all of them aren't to my taste in canon -- the slapstick stuff drives me nuts), so it's not unexpected, but we're glad both for the honest feedback and that you were able to stick it out.

[marita-c.livejournal.com]

Okay, I'm officially crying my eyes out. And people at work are looking at my funny.

Srsly guys, I love you. It's been a hell of a ride. Thank you so much!

[rm.livejournal.com]

Thank you so much!

[mellacita.livejournal.com]

I just wrote this at Torchwood House:

"If RTD himself were to ever read this fic, he would abandon ever writing for Torchwood or Doctor Who again. For my part, I am not sure anything can top this interpretation of the characters or the Whoverse at large. Maybe that's hyperbole; right now, I can't say. I am somewhat incoherent after just having finished the final installment."

I will have to come back later and type more thoughtful feedback. I must say, however, that I was girding myself against that tragedy that surely was coming in Ianto's death. I knew you were far too brave and accomplished as writers to give in to the easy temptation of a super-device or nanogene technology or some other sort of wibbly-wobbly that would enable Jack and Ianto to be together for an extended long time (though I do have a soft spot for those fics that do the concept well.) The way you included it though was perfect. When Ianto died, both he and Jack really did understand that all times are now, didn't they? And Jack will see Ianto again before he finally gets his long deserved rest. How could that not be a happy ending?

I don't even know where to begin or stop commenting. The references to previous installments that make clear it was coming this way all along, even if the writers themselves didn't always conciously know it. ;) (I am hazarding a guess based on my own experiences, but if you did indeed have even the tiniest point plotted from the very beginning then, well, you rock)

Once in awhile, online, I come across writers who are so gifted that I am at once grateful and surprised they bother with fanfiction, where the payment per word comes in the form of rambling comments like these, and the royalties are not terribly lucrative. You two are at the top of this list.

Thank you for bringing us all along on these travels. I know I will be returning to this story over and over again, to catch the many nuances I am sure to have missed.

Er, so much for coming back later and being more coherent. Though I may do so anyway.

[rm.livejournal.com]

Thank you so so much. Without RTD none of us could have had this adventure, and I'm not sure what he'd think of all the porn!

We're both very committed to the Japanese idea of "the beauty of sadness" so I am glad you feel that we managed to do that here.

[invisible-lift.livejournal.com]

Yep. It's official. You two make boys cry. And it is awesome.

Is there a suggested recovery position for this installment? Seriously. I regret not owning proper Kleenex.

The two of you are bastards. Marvelous, glorious bastards. <3

[rm.livejournal.com]

Heheeheheh.

Thank you!

[bardlover6.livejournal.com]

Wonderful. I love Ianto's note and his tip to the Doctor.

[rm.livejournal.com]

Thank you!

[athaari.livejournal.com]

I have to agree with mellacita that, should RTD or any of his fellow writers ever get to read this, they would quit; begging you two, on their knees, to take the job. Oh noes. Guess what I'm picturing right now.
Also, you can send me the toaster, for 'being far up your arses', later. ;)

As you may remember I was a bit frustrated with In Our Bedroom After The War, because I didn't understand their motivations, nor their actions; now, in light of the complete series, I realise that it was an important step in their relationship and their evolution as individuals. Having read everything in chronological order (I started with the back stories, this time), I understand why Jack felt he needed to be punished for disappointing the Doctor, and why Ianto was ready do anything Jack asked of him.
I Had No Idea I Had Been Traveling, indeed. Recalling the early stories, they had a more stationary atmosphere (not in bad way), somewhat encased in themselves, whereas the last ones covered more subject matter on a grander scale, I guess you could compare it to figurative accelerating, or simply opening up. This feeling, that the reader is on a journey, sometimes as spectator, but often very much intellectually and emotionally involved, produces comments like this.

Your grasp of power-dynamics is mind blowing. When the constant change between, who has the upper hand and who's just swept along, reaches its peak with IOBATW, you just realised that you've been holding your breath through the other parts. It's amazing how years of literature class only made me curse my teachers and despise writing on principle, when all it ever lacked was people, who knew what they're talking/writing about, writers and readers alike who actually love discussing lit. Most of my former classmates, who study to become a teacher were hardly the brightest and most committed pupils. I mean to say that reading fan fiction, like yours , makes me consider other fiction, as well, which is a novum in and of itself.
Back to the story. I particularly liked how you used the different epithets for Jack and the Doctor, when their so often misused. If you want use 'the other man', 'the man' etc., this is how you do it.
During the last part I was repeatedly at the verge of tears and the letter in the end, totally did me in. Normally I like stories in which Ianto dies of old age, but like dem, I was glad you didn't kill him off on-screen.
Finally: you've managed to create fully-functional characters from the sketches, the show gives us and let them surpass their canonical portrayal, by adding real-life aspects, everyone can identify with. It has been a pleasure to read and reread. Thank you for that.

[kalichan.livejournal.com]

Toaster's in the mail! *g*

Having read everything in chronological order (I started with the back stories, this time), I understand why Jack felt he needed to be punished for disappointing the Doctor, and why Ianto was ready do anything Jack asked of him.

Wow, thank you. I know there were points in the writing where we were like, omg, we're building this gargantuan thing in little tiny increments, and non-linear narrative and oh god, what if it all falls over. So this is really, really lovely to hear.

We love the source material so greatly that hearing we matched up for others, even a little, is such high praise. Thank you. We wanted very much to do them justice.

Normally I like stories in which Ianto dies of old age,

Us too, really. I mean, that's what we want for him. But in this universe... it just wasn't true. And we had to live with that. But it was/is hard. So hard.

I particularly liked how you used the different epithets for Jack and the Doctor, when their so often misused. If you want use 'the other man', 'the man' etc., this is how you do it.

This is the curse of slash, I think. TOO MANY OF THE SAME PRONOUNS.

Thank you so much for coming on this journey with us! Your comments have meant a lot.

[eumelia.livejournal.com]

Hi, I've not commented on previous chapters, but I've read them.
I've read this entire story.
My heart is pounding at the majesty that you two have created.
I don't think I've ever read a fandom that was so... talented seems inadequate, but there you have it.
I'm all teary eyed here because I imagine that is the way the show will have to go, you know, with Ianto leaving Jack behind and *weeps* he will forget him because how much can we remember when in our own specks of life we don't even remember being children.

And I caught the line from Sandman there, I love that line. It comforts me as well.

Thank you for this story.
I'm in awe of you two, truly I am.

*Salute*

[rm.livejournal.com]

Thank you, so so much.

[copperbadge.livejournal.com]

Because sure, the Doctor had never said anything to him straight out, and somewhere distantly, Ianto knew he'd never grown out of being a morbid fucker, but still.

AHA MAYBE YOU WON'T!

*still liveblogging, just hit that bit*

[copperbadge.livejournal.com]

Ahaha, good, all I have to pretend never happened is the letter. :D

Brilliant stuff, you guys. :)

[fide-et-spe.livejournal.com]

God this was perfect. The tears keep welling up, even at the comments. (For God's sake I need to pull myself together) I have loved this whole series, and this was a great ending. I hate to think of Ianto dying young, can't bear it, to be honest I actually don't think it would work on the show, purely because, unless you are Dynasty and have wedding massacres, you really can't get away with killing off all your main characters and expect the show to carry on. However I can see that you needed it for your story, and you did it so well, the letter was lovely. I also loved Ianto's declaration. A device that rarely works, but of course in drama we know "I love you" just means "hey my character is going to die soon (or your character, but that can't be with Jack) so I liked how you used that convention.

The little comment about Ianto being the main character when he normally would have died after three chapters, very funny. So many little moments and references, so well put together, all of it.

You really get Ten right as well, he is hardly ever written in character, unsurprising as he must be so difficult. I like that you brought in that he is so asexual, whereas Nine did have a sexuality about him. (I think Eccles was the only one to ever bring that to the character to be honest.)

Anyhow I'll stop rambling, I look forward to more from you, although I may not read the one with Jenny, I didn't even like that episode, let alone the character, although you are so good that it might overcome my aversion to her.

[kalichan.livejournal.com]

The little comment about Ianto being the main character when he normally would have died after three chapters, very funny.

Yep! Ianto, totally a red shirt, right? *g*

You really get Ten right as well, he is hardly ever written in character, unsurprising as he must be so difficult. I like that you brought in that he is so asexual, whereas Nine did have a sexuality about him. (I think Eccles was the only one to ever bring that to the character to be honest.)

I can't speak for Rach, but pretty much agree, re: Ten. I see him as very romantic, but not sexual, which I think is Tennant's interpretation as well, so perhaps I am unduly influenced. We ended up never delving into his pov which I think helped in getting him right. Like, with Nine, it's easier -- what is he thinking: Gallifrey, Time War, hates self, Rose, lather rinse, repeat. But I think Ten is sorta more all over the place and it makes it harder to imagine what being in his head might be like. But with all that, we are extremely fond of him (still so not ready to say goodbye!) and so hearing that he was IC for you is delightful

Thank you so much. We love the rambling!

We'll have some more short fics in this universe too, if Jenny's not to your taste!

[elainasaunt.livejournal.com]

"Win" doesn't even begin to cover what you guys are made of. I'm so glad I had the time to read this all tonight. And I'm even sort of glad that I won't have time for a while to sit down and read the whole opus again from beginning to end, because I want to let this brew in me for a while before I do that. But I'm already looking towards the day. Thanks.

[rm.livejournal.com]

And thank you for being willing to take this journey not just once, but again!

[chiara7.livejournal.com]

Haven't commented before now, because I wanted to wait for the conclusion, but I mean to go back and re-read and burble at length until you're sick of it.

I've only been reading TW for a few months (after a year and a half of browsing in other fandoms), and I was lucky enough to stumble on this story early. The first few chapters simply blew me out of the water, both for the high standard of the writing and the high-wire narrative. I don't think I've ever run across anything that pushed the envelope or took so many successful risks in terms of character development (certainly not in relation to a canon "text"). This story motivated me to stay around and read around.

It's also the most profound exploration of sexual politics I've seen in any fandom. We not only get the kink and the hot smut (quite enjoyable in their own right), but all the reverberations inside the bedroom and out of it. Take this chapter, with Jack's determination to possess all of Ianto while he can, and Ianto's ultimate acceptance of how little he can possess Jack (which does nothing to reduce -- in fact enhances -- his fierce erotic joy). None of this is OOC for the canon, but it just shows how what we see could be the tip of a very dangerous iceberg. You haven't missed a trick when it comes to exploring the surface power asymmetries and how the balance might shift about in practice.

I have been awed, over and over, by how you take all of the more far-fetched premises canon has handed us (Jack's immortality, the two-thousand-year burial, the Face of Boe) and turned them into convincing emotional facets of the story -- opportunities to deepen and broaden the characters and make them more rather than less plausible. I had no idea how the traveling would end, but the finale is pitch-perfect, more joyous and truthful than any happy ending.

You've set the bar incredibly high for anyone else exploring TW's maddening, lovely terrain. I think this should be required reading for anyone writing slash, anyone who doubts that fanfic is fertile ground for ambitious writing, and especially for those who believe it can be. Thank you so much for this story.

(And I can't WAIT to see what you'll do with Jack/Ianto/Jenny. That is a story that seriously NEEDS WRITING.)

[rm.livejournal.com]

Thank you so much. It's extremely gratifying to be able to make people want to play here. The show's writing on a long-arc, seasonal basis can be very hard to defend. Luckily (to quote Leonard Cohen) that's how the light gets it. Torchwood is a that is murky, both intentionally and not and we like it for its wiggle room and the fact that we can keep writing stories in it and feel like they're all (in one universe or another) true.

We're also extremely grateful for your enthusiasm for our interest in some of the less popular parts of DW/TW in fandom: namely Boe, and also Jenny.

We had no idea what we were doing when we started this story, but we're very glad you stuck around while we figured it out.

[cruentum.livejournal.com]

It's a fitting end and for all of it not being terribly surprising (it had to be happen in the arch, really) you still managed to hit the emotional punches hard. It brings it full circle, and while I didn't enjoy every installment the same way, I enjoyed the last 3/4ths of this installment, with its hint and rather stringent walk towards resolution (the first fourth meandered about a bit). Jack's pain hurts, also because sure, this is Ianto, but this is Ianto as one in a row of, what, hundreds, thousands, and I don't think it ever hurts any less or is ever any easier. As I said - an expected end to it, I think, a necessary end and I'm glad you went through with it, no magic tricks, because even in the world of Torchwood and Who humans have only one life and Ianto's journey with the Doctor, do everything: it gives the usually cheesy line we've all heard, we all try to live by, a painful reminder.

I don't want to join the chorus of 'this is more than a story, this is more than just fiction' because it isn't. But it is a good story and while I have issues with single installements here and there, places where I wish the writing had been tighter and less of a stroll along the river, it is a story that illustrates Torchwood, illustrates the characters well. It is a story that touches you in ways stories do, that cause that little ping to echo somewhere, touch on realities every single one of us knows. It does its job, as a story, but no story can ever be bigger than life. And more than anything, it is a message about life. And do everything seems a nice bottomline.

Thank you for your interpretation of the characters, for this. It's been a great journey.

[rm.livejournal.com]

And thank you! I actually keep meaning to leave you a comment in TWU, but the conversation always moves on by the time I get to it, wherein I wish more people left comments for EVERYONE like this, because then we could all be talking about character and story and feel like we're allowed to say what we actually think, as opposed to the way fandom often conducts its business.

ANYWAY. Meanandering is our great woe as writers, so I think we decided (once we knew what we were doing with this, which we didn't decide until The Most Beautiful Girl in the World) we had to let it be about meandering a bit. Although, you can't imagine how much does get edited out. We're both terrible abusers of the word "then". Just terrible!

Ultimately, how can a story be more than a story? It can't. Whether it's true or false. But stories are very huge and crazy to Kali and I, in terms of our creation of our own identities, so it's great that it feels that big to people, but that doesn't mean it itself is. I'm as happy with this as a small story, maybe more so in some ways.

Anyway, thank you again, for all of this, all along, and also for giving a shit about Jack, whose poor miserable heart I probably flail about more than Ianto's.

[halfspell.livejournal.com]

Oh, that was supremely satisfying. Fanfics tend to be like candy bars to me, but this was like standing up after Christmas dinner. The way this was told, I cared intensely about the characters, like they had a whole life of their own that wasn't really related to the shows. The tone of the various installments was consistent, the language and imagery was wonderfully done and if this was bound on a shelf and for sale, I wouldn't hesitate to buy it and rec it to people. Seriously, thank you for this!

[rm.livejournal.com]

And thank you, very much. We're finally at work on our novel. So who knows, at some point you just might be able to. It's a WWII -- no fantasy or space (unlike our other project) -- thing, but we think we're going to borrow Maeve for it.

[heidisvenson.livejournal.com]

You've just destroyed and remade me (all at once!), Bravo! My stomach was queasy all through sections 3 and 4 until the very end. I've decided that Jack is reading this farewell letter at least 10 years in the future. If you try to tell me any different, I'll plug my ears and la-la-la.

I know that a few people have mentionned Sandman, and sitting here, I'm reminded of a random scene between Morpheus and Delirium. They're chatting and eating. Morpheus has a salad or something equally pleasure-less and boring, and Delirium has people-shaped-raspberry-chocolates. They have some deep conversation, maybe about Destruction; I don't remember, but when they get up from the table, Delirium's people, which she had squished together in naked-chocolate-people-sex, are aware that they're fucking and melting, but what can they do? I don't even know what I'm trying to get at here. Maybe that Ianto knew he was a melting-chocolate-man, and that all of the good things were some episodes of really excellent fucking.

Anyway, thanks! Sorry about the blather.

[rm.livejournal.com]

We love blather. And thank you, so much for the kind words. Sandman has v. different places in my and Kali's lives, but it does suit in the end, doesn't it?

[meepkitty.livejournal.com]

This was beautifully written and though I know it had to end, I found myself so disappointed that it didn't go on longer. I don't mean dragging out the end; I just truly enjoyed your writing and the story you have crafted. Thank you for writing this. :)

[rm.livejournal.com]

And thank you for reading it and being so kind!

[justinej.livejournal.com]

Everyone has already said everything I wanted to say! I've read from chapter 6 today including the interludes and frankly, this is better than the real thing by such a scary long way. You have everyone so perfectly pitched.

You are both utterly brilliant. Thank you so much.

[rm.livejournal.com]

And thank you. For me, doing the voices, albeit on paper, is one of the keenest joys of it, so I am glad they work!

[darthhellokitty.livejournal.com]

When king_chiron gets home and finds me crying, I'm going to tell him exactly whose fault it is.

[rm.livejournal.com]

Yeah, how did that work out?

And we likes the tears. They are the precious.

[better-late24.livejournal.com]

Oh, God. You know the end is inevitable, and THAT end, with Ianto dying and Jack living, in particular, is inevitable. But still, it kills me. Heartbreaking, but really beautiful. I mean, perfect really, but oh, IANTO :( And Jack, poor Jack.

[better-late24.livejournal.com]

I also meant to mention that I really liked that you didn't end with Ianto's death, that you didn't detail it or anything. The inevitable end, but we don't have to witness it. It feels right that way.