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

[daizy2k2.livejournal.com]

It hurts so good.

Truly a wonderful story from the beginning, and an appropriate ending. I'm glad that it's not making Jack and Ianto's relationship the absolute one, but still shows how what they have is special because it's *now* and it's *good*. I think that's what I mean, at least.

Really well done.

[rm.livejournal.com]

Thank you very much.

While we didn't quite know this was going to be this crazy thing when we started (the first fic was a private joke until we decided to really write it), we did know that we thought of Jack as someone who loved easily and thoroughly and deeply and that we absolutely didn't believe in probably anyone, but most definitely Jack, having a one, true, love of his life sort of person. We're incredibly gratified that, that -- the one thing we might have been sure of when we started this fic, shone through.

[innibis.livejournal.com]

Beautiful. Profound. Terrifyingly real - everything that makes up life really I suppose.

Truly moving and my heart hurts.

And there is such truth in the fact that, no matter how eternal Jack is, his time with Ianto is unique and never to be repeated again, which makes it special in its own right. And also oddly comforting that every love that Jack has had and will have will influence the person he becomes, even when the memory fades away.

Now I'm babbling. You two are wonderful.

[kalichan.livejournal.com]

Thank you for your kind words.

his time with Ianto is unique and never to be repeated again, which makes it special in its own right. And also oddly comforting that every love that Jack has had and will have will influence the person he becomes, even when the memory fades away.

Yes, exactly. Thank you for seeing the rays of hope; in the end, it was the best possible true thing we could say/wanted to say about their relationship in this universe. We're so pleased it worked for you.

[kaimu-art.livejournal.com]

Even though like everyone has already said, the end was inevitable, and while it was sad, at the same time it wasn't gut wrenching because you got to see them through the early acceptance, that when it happens there's grief, but there's also the promise of a future. I'm sad that it ended, but it ended the only way it could, and the image of Ianto laughing and living is what sticks with me the most out of all this.

It was great to read Ianto and Jack's travel through this, and thank you for letting us in on traveling with them.

[kalichan.livejournal.com]

Thank you. And yes, we weren't really going for the surprise here, although you'd be surprised at how difficult it was to not "fix it".

the image of Ianto laughing and living is what sticks with me the most out of all this.

Thank you. We're so glad.

[madambackslash.livejournal.com]

Oh.

Oh my goodness.

'scuse me, something in my eye.

[kalichan.livejournal.com]

We love your tears, because we are evil.

Thank you.

[bobthemole.livejournal.com]

I should say something, but it's hard. My feelings for this series have run all over the map, from weirded-out to amused to disturbed to comforted, followed by dawning comprehension and the realization that this is a work of art. It's beautiful in the way an injury is beautiful, painful and messy but showing a hint of the wonders beneath the skin. You broke apart my rather naive notions of the Jack/Ianto relationship, showed me the insides, and then put them back together better than new.

Part of me grieves that this 'verse is finished, and there won't be more of the brilliant turns of phrase that illuminate *this* version of Jack and Ianto. But then I'm ignoring the point of the entire arc :) So I'll try to close the door on it and look forward to the next wonder you create. Thank you, and good luck.

[kalichan.livejournal.com]

I keep coming back to this comment in my head, it is so gorgeous. I was profoundly moved by it. Thank you so much.

[adjovi.livejournal.com]

god...i wish i had the capacity to make a coherent comment at this point, but i am literally weeping. i promise to come back...

[adjovi.livejournal.com]

ok...so i went back through and skimmed a bit. you should know i am sitting here, at my desk, with tears in my eyes. this fic broke me like no other. as the most previous poster commented, i kind of have a complicated "relationship" to this fic, as my feelings rate across the board. i personally am not a huge fan of bdsm fics (not that i am against them in general, but for some reason, they just don't work for me with this pairing), but the writing was so perfectly complex that i couldn't turn away. but this chapter. man. i know it is supposed to be hopeful, too, not just bleak, but you developed their relationship so beautifully, so intricately, that i deeply feel jack's loss here--it's taken him so long to find love (true love--if ever before?) only to have it taken away so quickly. i know this is the reality of being jack, though.

you guys should be so proud of what you've done here. congratulations.

[kahtyasofia.livejournal.com]

I KNEW you were going to kill Ianto. I knew it several segments ago but I was afraid to say it out loud!

Guh! Tears again! You are the emotional death of me!

Oh my. You know what I like most? Jack and Ianto accepting it all. Not happy about it, but knowing it has to be and just getting on with things.

Yeah. That's Torchwood.

[kalichan.livejournal.com]

Yeah. That's Torchwood.

That's a great compliment, thank you.

And we feed on your tears. Muahahaha.

[silentstep.livejournal.com]

I always wish, always always always, that there were some way of communicating with someone the depths to which they have enriched my life. And I have never quite found a way that doesn't sound creepy, or simply fails to get the message across, but- this story? Has enriched my life. Has made me feel, has made me laugh hysterically, and also cry, literally cry, and feel glee and joy and pain and longing and triumph. Has made me uncomfortable and has filled me with awe.

So thank you for that.

[kalichan.livejournal.com]

This comment... is. Wow. Yeah. These are words I have often wanted to say to others, and now wish I had been able to find the words for, because hearing them is so unbelievably moving, I now don't know what to say in response.

Thank you seems so very small to say in return. But please believe that it is heartfelt.

[midasu.livejournal.com]

I adore this story. You're brilliant. (and thank you for not killing Ianto and making us see it, I don't think I could handle the crying that would have caused me. We all know that it will happen someday, but thankfully not this one.)

[kalichan.livejournal.com]

Thank you so much. We're so pleased it worked for you. Really for a story that's so much set around death, we hope it's really about life. And that's a happy thing.

[lazy-8s.livejournal.com]

This was positively gorgeous! No other words for it.

[rm.livejournal.com]

Thank you!

[temporal-witch.livejournal.com]

*sobbing like a little girl*
This is...there are no words. There really aren't. And I'm too incoherent to type them if there were.
Bloody brilliant. Thank you.

[rm.livejournal.com]

And thank you! Truly.

[cinnamonteal.livejournal.com]

Terrible and beautiful, indeed.
Terrible, beautiful, heartbreaking and perfect.

[rm.livejournal.com]

Thank you so much.

[electro-club.livejournal.com]

There are many fantastic stories in this fandom, some fantastic authors, some amazingly original and creative plots, incredible interpretation of characters. But there are only a number of stories that surpass the 'fantastic' line to become some kind of monster epic of perfection [wtf?]. Those are the stories that end up rewriting canon (or simply writing canon, since canon can be so vague and frustrating sometimes), stories to make us look differently at the characters. Really the stories that make Torchwood something amazing beyond its actual quality, because those stories are telling us 'See? This is what you can see on that guy with three lines per episode, or that diva inside a RAF coat, or those big eyes and annoying stubbornness'. IHNIIHBT is one of those. Probably the biggest exponent of that sort. It's not about a huge, great plot, mystery or incredible adventures, not on strict sense, although it is, too. It's about people. The people behind the madness that a world such as Torchwood's would be, if it really existed.

Jack and Ianto grew through IHNIIHBT's installments, their relationship became mature and real. There were certain parts, certain paragraphs and lines, that reminded me of a comment rm or kali left to me few installments back about Ianto and how he accepts his reality, how aware of his destiny he is, because he chose to be there. He's not expecting to see the next day, though he'll do everything he can to stay alive. And I suppose his comprehension of his situation, as well as the acceptance though not completely resigned (because he fights it, doesn't he? And he still seems scared of death - Ianto nearly cries every time someone points a gun at him), is what pulls him closer to Jack, against all odds and ironies. He's not seeing a world of rainbows and ponies and 'OH WOW!'; he sees it as it truly is: raw, hard, merciless and unpredictable that not asking for permission to break your heart.

It was just beautiful. Everything. There were so, so many things in those stories that I'd normally not read, so many visions and understandings that I don't necessarily share, but all so masterfully combined to form something huge and beautiful and perfect in its essence though strange and almost wrong sometimes - because, well, life's like that, Torchwood or not. Nothing's always perfect, nothing's always right. And it would be damn boring if it was. It's the difficulties and mistakes and general incoherence the things to make us grow and improve, and I guess that's the obstacle Jack and Ianto were to each other, on some ways. And though Jack will live to love many people, to find many reasons, to see many times, this one will have always been the time he was in love with one ordinary, bit crazy, all welsh vowels and nice suits Ianto Jones.

And I loved that you killed him in the end, because there would be no other way to end it. And I would've been really pissed if there was a warning for that. I hate to know when a fic is gonna make me cry, because then it doesn't.

So, yeah. Sorry for babbling so much. Just.. thank you for the great journey. =)

[kalichan.livejournal.com]

Your encouragement and feedback throughout this arc has been profoundly moving and precious to us. Thank you so much.

Jack and Ianto grew through IHNIIHBT's installments, their relationship became mature and real

This was one of the things that we were nervous about towards the latter part of the series, when we begin skipping forward in time by years instead of days. It's delightful to know that their increased maturity and comfort /awareness (both of themselves AND their relationship) came through.

And though Jack will live to love many people, to find many reasons, to see many times, this one will have always been the time he was in love with one ordinary, bit crazy, all welsh vowels and nice suits Ianto Jones.

That's lovely. And true. And I think I'm tearing up a bit at that sentence.

And I would've been really pissed if there was a warning for that. I hate to know when a fic is gonna make me cry, because then it doesn't.

We went back and forth about it, and then decided that warning for Ianto being mortal... was not necessary. Because he doesn't die on screen as it were. I'm glad it worked for you!

It's about people. The people behind the madness that a world such as Torchwood's would be, if it really existed.

Exactly what we were hoping for, thank you so much.

[andreth47.livejournal.com]

OK, I'm dealing with withdrawal pangs and grief and denial and the goddamn emotional wringer you guys just put me through, so I don't know how coherent this comment will be.

Drained. I am emotionally drained and satisfied at the same time. I haven't felt like this at the end of a fic, since reading "If You Are Prepared" for the first time.

Actually, I kept thinking of IYAP as I read this final installment. (I had a feeling what was comin', ya see. I'm so smrt.) This series? cycle? reminds me very much of IYAP, in its beauty, and in the way it brings both the epic scope and the intensely personal into perfect synch. God, you guys ROCK!

Oh god, and thank you beyond words for giving me Jack piloting a spaceship. Just...thank you. *hands over first-born child*

[rm.livejournal.com]

Wow, I've not thought about IYAP in years. That was one of the big ones.

Thank you, very, very much.

Also, so glad you liked the flying. That was a thing we'd been playing with in our heads for a while, and it was such a kick to finally write it.

[madtheo.livejournal.com]

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

This line does a great job of summing up the whole story for me. Hands down, the best TW I've read to date and that includes a few of your stories I already have saved in my memories! I was a bit late to the fic having just discovered it at the Children of Time awards (how it didn't place first is a mystery). This story ran rough-shod over every emotion I own and hit many, many buttons I didn't even know I had!!

Absolutely brilliant, fantastic job to the two of you!!!

If it's all right, may I friend you both so I don't miss anything in the future?

[rm.livejournal.com]

Thank you!

Writing it hit buttons we didn't know we had either, I think. At least for me, the cross-dressing thing was sort of not a kink at all, it always struck me as too ludicrous. Now that little fic, which is so slight and sweet and filthy, is one of my favorites of the series.

And at least on my own behalf, yes, feel free. We both write solo stuff too.

[only-sound.livejournal.com]

I don't usually turn into a big sobbing mess, and I usually know when it's going to happen. (I call "Get Loved, Make More, Try to Stay Alive" The Crying Fic of Doom.)

Not so with this. I was okay, prepared, knew things were happening. Until the letter. The sobbing took me unawares.

Good job y'all.

[rm.livejournal.com]

That is The Crying Fic of Doom. That shit fucked me up. For days.

Anyway, thank you. Surely, Ianto's fate was no surprise, but the letter still gets _us_ everytime, I guess in part because I don't think Ianto let himself polish it. Kali and I haven't really talked about this, but my own sense of the tone we used there was that of a school boy trying to sound chill in a Valentine's Day card and being pretty sure he's fucking it up while also having to Say Important Things.

[faris-nallaneen.livejournal.com]

i meant to post a comment last night, but after finishing this part I had to go back and read the whole shebang, and then re-read Harbor, and then i was all emotionally exhausted & it was bedtime.

but.

i fucking loved this final part. beautifully structured and did exactly what i wanted but didn't necessarily expect. here are some of the lines i liked best:

"I am not a field," Ianto told him firmly.

who knew how many homes jack had, that he would never see

"are you lonely?"....ianto feeling very, very satisfied

smell of 21st century

Ianto Jones, science fiction novel hero instead of science fiction
novel throwaway character destined to get shot in the first three
chapters at long last

young man, plenty of time....

jack cooking!

breathplay and "i love you" and "you do, don't you?"..."good. now suck my cock."

doctor ex machina!

two great tastes!

felt like he was being fucked while biting down on leather and whipped while floating in the sea.

It was better than coins.[oh god...]

"Vomit kills the romance?" Jack offered, none too helpfully.

You get what everyone gets. You get a lifetime. [!!!!!!!]

the letter.

[kalichan.livejournal.com]

Lists! I love lists! And you. Thank you for this, and for reading and, and... yeah. You know. *grins*

[jedirita.livejournal.com]

Wow. You managed to pull it off: inevitably killing Ianto without actually, you know, killing him.

For me, I find nothing more romantic than tragedy. I'm an absolute sucker for when the lovers realize that they will inevitably have to part, and yet they love anyway. It just doesn't get any better than that. And y'all delivered it in spades.

I'm still not sure how I first came upon this series, but it was one of the first Torchwood fanfics I read. And I've been kind of ruined for reading any other Torchwood fanfic. Not that I don't read it! The good, the bad, and the ugly. But nothing, nothing can ever possibly be as good as this.

[kalichan.livejournal.com]

Wow. Thank you for these incredibly kind words. We love Torchwood a lot, warts and all, and this just grew out of our attempt to do it (and its platonic ideal, the TW in our heads) justice.

For me, I find nothing more romantic than tragedy. I'm an absolute sucker for when the lovers realize that they will inevitably have to part, and yet they love anyway. It just doesn't get any better than that. And y'all delivered it in spades.

As Rach has said in comments before, we are big fans of the beauty of sadness. So, thank you. We think it is romantic too! And are so pleased it worked for you.

[alex51324.livejournal.com]

Oh, wow. I really like the ending. I like that the TARDIS trip was Ianto's last fling before dying, or that he and Jack both thought it was, but then he didn't die on his way back into the Hub (which I thought he might). Considering how the Doctor thinks about time, Ianto's actual death could have come quite a ways (as we think of it) after the end of the story. I prefer to imagine it that way, because it comforts me, but at the same time, the story is absolutely unflinching about how short that span of time is, compared to Jack/The Face of Boe's timeframe, which is downright geological. I mean, I can clamp my hands over my ears and go "La la la" about Ianto dying, but the story is always going to be saying, "Yeah, but..." And that's life. Everyone who is not busy being born is busy dying, as the poet said, and we all get to choose whether we're going to pretend otherwise or not, but that doesn't change the way it is.

So, yeah. I'll read this one again. Someday.

[rm.livejournal.com]

Thank you, very much.

You never know what life's going to bring, and even if someone told us the future, we still wouldn't know. If we're very very lucky, we accept that, even a little.

[virginhuntress.livejournal.com]

You're right... words often fail so let me paint you a picture.

I read this chapter in one go. Lit a cigarette, got up, walked around my apartment a bit. Sat back down and started weeping. I'm talking full out crying.

This was gloriously heartbreaking. And so, so, so true. Do everything. Remember what you can. Hold on to love and don't think about dying too much.

For some reason (probably because I have my own list of tragedy that makes me a bit more messed up than others), this line made me cry:

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.

lefaym is right. The show could never be this good. They can't cram this much into even a full season if they tried, and you're just not bound by the same rules.

Thank you for not putting in an actual death scene. What we leave behind is often so much more beautiful, and so much more poignant.

This story arc and Get Loved, Make More, Try to Stay Alive are the only two stories that hit me this hard.

Thank you, both of you, for giving us this glorious epic, and thank you for capturing those two better than almost everyone I know.

Just... thank you.

[rm.livejournal.com]

Thank you so much. That dsudis piece destroyed me too and I'm honored to be considered in teh same breath as it.

We loved doing this, every second of it, and I actually have a lot of hope now that I'm home from Gallifrey and have heard some spoilers that series three of Torchwood really is going to look at some of these issues. I'm completely thrilled beyond words, but also sort of happy it's taken them this long, as I don't know what we would have written this otherwise, and god, it's been an amazing experience.

[seres-mimosa.livejournal.com]

This was incredible. It's so huge, as vast as the universe and yet so intimate, honest and moving at the same time. I think it's a rare trait in fanfic, and often in any fiction and TV shows, but there is an a authenticity to your characters and their reactions and interactions. And somehow that's as grand and beautiful than any literary artifice. I believed Ianto, I even believed Jack. And I've just re-fallen in love with them and their story. Thank you!

[rm.livejournal.com]

And thank you. Just because someting isn't real, doesn't mean it's not true. That we've managed to achieve that for you thrills us.

[alba17.livejournal.com]

Wonderful, like the rest of the series. This really broke me - tears were involved for sure. When I realized you were killing off Ianto, I was like, "No!!!", then I realized it had to be. It was less painful that you left his ultimate demise open and undescribed. Just having the letter was very eloquent. I loved the way you used the Doctor here.

Thanks for writing this fic. It was beautiful, moving, hot, fascinating. I loved the backstory installments as well. (And, BTW, in regard to some previous comments, "The Most Beautiful Girl in the World" was one of my favorite chapters. You showed you could do cross-dressing and have it work. It was incredibly hot.)

I'm intrigued with your Jenny/Ianto/Jack idea and looking forward to all your future work. I hope you continue to write in this fandom for awhile.

[rm.livejournal.com]

Thank you so much. I think we're definitely in the world of Who and Torchwood for the long hall (I am high on the Gallifrey love right now) and have a couple of things planned.

There was no other place for Ianto's story to go but where it did in this. Thank you so much for being willing to see that. We wanted to fight it, and we were worried how people would take it, but I am glad of it in the end.

[(Anonymous)]

I am so, so glad that Ianto's good-bye note was loving and practical and cheerful, in the end. So very glad. Thank you for this story about love in a lifetime.

[rm.livejournal.com]

And thank you! I think it's the moment I love him the most, the letter. It's just -- he's very simple without his facades and we so rarely see him without all his tensions.

[neifile7.livejournal.com]

As you know, I loved this so much I had to write about it. At length. And it was a blast.

http://neifile7.livejournal.com/1733.html#cutid1

Thank you again, and thanks to everyone who commented and got me off my butt to write it.

[rm.livejournal.com]

And thank you! We've corresponded in email, but I do actually want to come in and involve myself in tht discussion, now that I'm home from Gally and Patty's getting better and all that good stuff.

[teaboyfan.livejournal.com]

I'm hesitant to add my comments to the ocean of praise you've received, but your work has moved me so much that it would be rude not to thank you. For most of yesterday and today I've been snickering and wiping tears from my eyes, often simultaneously. Let me offer just one quote that I don't remember seeing in the comments: "like one of those joys that wouldn't end in tears, except for the part where that was the definition of joy, that it had to." Profoundly true not just of life, but also of the story itself.

Jack's allowing himself one night to cry for Ianto reminded me of something Barrowman said in an interview (can't remmeber where) that despite his upbeat persona he occasionally has a down day, like everybody else. He said something to the effect that if he felt bad, he would allow himself one day to stay in bed and mope, but after that it was up and doing again.

I'm glad no one dared flame you for not warning for character death; Ianto is mortal and Jack isn't, and there is only one way that story can end without some godawful reaches. The only way you could have avoided it was simply to stop telling the story before its end, and that would have been profoundly unsatisfying. In my opinion you handled it perfectly; going into detail over exactly when and how Ianto died would have looked manipulative. Like we weren't crying enough already! Thank you again for such a mind-blowing work: far superior to any of the six TW novels I've read so far.

[rm.livejournal.com]

Thank you! This is so kind and thrilling to us I don't know where to start.

I remember that Barrowman thing -- I t hink it might be in his book? (I don't read a lot of online interviews, which is why that's my guess).

At the con this weekend Gary Russell said during the commentary he did on Journey's End that for a show about huge joy, Doctor Who is also always about death. That we were able to strike that balance for you is thrilling. It's why we love the show as intensely as we do, and we wanted to honor it in that way.