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Jack couldn't move, couldn't feel a single damn thing. He could barely see a thing, like his vision was underwater in a dark cave. He was only vaguley aware it had been awhile since he stood up. How long, though? The only thing he was certian of was that he could hear perfectly.
With the crappy sight he had, and not being able to move his body, he had to go off of best guesses and sound. Jack registered a few things, like the fact he was in a hospital, and he wasen't dead. OK, so that was good. He also registered a vauge human-shaped blob. Wait a second... he reconized that blob. It was Ianto. No one else was in the room, and even with Jack's less than stellar vision, he would be able to reconize Ianto from a mile away.
Wait... Ianto was speaking.
'They say you're supposed to talk to people when they're in a coma, don't they?'
Ianto's voice, the familiarity of it, comforted Jack. He wanted to, so badly, to reach out and touch him. But he couldn't move, couldn't do anything but listen and watch.
'I have absolutely no idea whether you can hear me, Jack. I've never heard of anybody coming out of one and carrying on a conversation' A sad laugh.
It pained Jack to have to be like this. Thoughts, in rapid sucession, flashed by; Bob Roberts; the phone in Jan's house; a breif mention of Stella Courtney; the phones. Oh God, the phones. Was that why he was like this? How could he have been that stupid? Jack kept on listening.
'So I supect it's probably something the doctors tell us to do. To make us feel better. Rather than help you. We don't feel quite so useless and helpless. We get the feeling that there's still some sort of purpose in our lives. We're not just waiting. Waiting for the science to work. Or the miracle to work.' A pause. 'Or the nightmare to end.'
The nightmare. The one they were living right now.
'I'm not much of a talker Jack, you know that. But I'll talk to you now, on the off chance that it helps. Just promise me... if you're hearing this, that when you come round'... and you're goning to, Jack. You're gonna come out of this... just promise me you'll never bring up anything I say to you now. How's that? We got a deal?'
You know that's a promise I can't keep, Jack thought. It didn't matter though. Nothing did. Only knowing they were alive was all that mattered.
'This... must be the longest I've ever looked at you, and not seen you smile. I've watched you in your sleep... did you know that? So many times... just woken up beside you in the middle of the night, and watched you. Watched your eyes moving behind your eyelids, as you dreamed.'
What? Jack was aware Ianto did have trouble sleeping with him, but... wow. He had never reveled what he did those sleepless nights, making this all the more important. And painful.
All he could do now was listen.
'I've tried to imagine what a man like you could possibly dream about. The things you've seen. The lives you lived.' A pause. 'The people you loved.'
The people he loved. That would be... a lot. A lot of broken hearts. But never Jack's. In fact, wen he thought about it, he had never loved someone enough to have a broken heart. Well, not until Ianto changed that.
'I wondered if you were dreaming about me, I hoped you were dreaming about me... but let's be honest, Jack. I'm nothing more than a blip in time for you.'
No, Jack thought. No, that's not true. It never will be. He awalys thought Ianto had assumed that.
'Every day, I grow a little older. But you're immortal. You've already lived a thousand lifetimes. How can you watch me grow old and die? How could I watch you live, and never age a day?'
I ask myself the same questions. He had never realized he had asked those questions until now.
'I suppose we both know that will never be a problem. Not in this job. No one in Torchwood ever lives to draw their pension, do they?' A sad laugh.
Please, Jack thought. Stop. I can't bear to know you think I feel that way about you. It's not true...
'Even if by some... miracle I survive to see my hair turn grey... or God forbid, fall out... I don't kid myself, that you'll still be around to see it. One day, you'll go again. Just like you did before... and this time you won't be back.' A choked back sob.
No. This was the most open and honest Ianto had ever been. If he thought for a second Jack could hear him, he would've stoped.
'Maybe that's what you're dreaming about those night, when I watch you sleeping. Maybe that's why, even when you sleep... I see you smile.'
Was that what he really thought? Did Ianto really, truly, honestly think that Jack would just leave him again? Please, I'll do anything to prove you wrong. I will do anything to prove you are the best thing that's happened to me. Jack was slipping out of consciousness. He heard Ianto say one mor thing, before Jack compleatly slipped into darkness;
'But you haven't gone yet, Jack. I know that. I know you're coming back to me.'
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So, Jack didn't die. Turns out, a virus came through the Rift and implanted itself into the brains of people. Ianto, Gwen, and Rysh managed to destroy the virus, bringing everyone back to normal.
To sum it up: a typical day.
After a breif reunion with Stella, Gwen and Rysh left with her, leaving Jack and Ianto alone.
Ianto asked, "So, you don't... remember anything about the trance?"
Jack said the words before he could stop himself, "No. Did you talk to me while I was out of it? They say that's what you should do."
"I talked... a little. But I'm not really much of a talker."
"I know."
"That's just me"
"Yeah."
Stop being so damn lame, Jack thought to himself. Say something. Damn you, just say something so you know that you care about him, that you'll never run off again. Say somthing, damn it!
Jack finally said, "But, you never will just be a blip in time, Ianto Jones. Not for me."
They seemed to have an entire unspoken conversation. Finally, after what seemed like ages, Ianto leaned in and kissed him. As their lips enveloped each other, Jack could only form one thought. The thought relived him and scared him, amde him feel happy and guilty, all at once. He hadn't thought this about anybody else. Oh, he wasn't going to tell Ianto; at least, not now. Maybe not for a long, long time. But he'll tell him. One day.
Ianto Jones, I love you.