[for ianto]

[more_flexible]

[Dated Friday, August 24th]

He'd gone diving and cleaned the catch for Bill, and then went to clean up. When Jack stepped out of the shower and spotted it immediately. A natty attache sitting on top of his clothes for the day. It was embossed with JH and seemed packed full. He wrapped the towel around his waist and approached it slowly, like it might explode at any second.

He wasn't so lucky.

He could see books and a file folder with papers crammed inside. He took a deep breath and set it aside so he could dress, then he carried it out to the rec room and sat at a table before he began to empty it slowly. It was his, but it wasn't. It belonged to a Jack who he simply wasn't. Yet.

There was a scrapbook and Jack turned the pages, reading. A letter in his handwriting from Lahore about a diamond mine scam. Something from World War I. And then... A letter from Estelle, along with two pictures. He'd seen her in the films, and that was certainly him. Clippings about the Blitz from several Cardiff papers were pasted on the next pages, along with some other pages about supporting the troop. There was a picture of Jack and Bilis, Jack and Tosh. He turned the page. There was a newspaper clipping about a man struck twice by lightning who had walked away. Another one dated 1971 had a bit of his image in the picture. Mystery blaze kills four. Clippings about Jack...the real Jack. Laying loose between the next pages was a telegram that he didn't have to read. He'd seen ones like it. Another article, Eaten By Neighborhood Watch. Jack didn't see anything amusing or particularly informative there. Another article, some dead woman Owen worked on. There were 'official' Torchwood documents. About weevils" and Dealing with alien artifacts. It was all overwhelming.

There was a leather-bound journal he opened it, reading his own handwriting about a boyfriend without a name. Details of what a fantastic lover he was. Jack's eyebrow arched at the facts that the man was an acrobat and a twin. There were entries about Estelle. At the end it simply said Ianto. Short phrases. Keeps things clean. Punctual. Efficient. Hides things from me. Watch him. Stopwatch. Less than ten minutes. Every time. What was that about? Were they...involved? Other names, other thoughts. Naomi? Jessica? Hannah? Rolf? David? Michael? Sanjay? Muriel? All these people he'd...he'd loved them. For weeks or months at a time. He loved them. Would love them. There were even pictures of some of them...faces he didn't know. Tucked inside was a letter from a librarian named Samuel. It was clearly a mass letter, but it was addressed to him personally. He sat it aside as well and pulled out something...pink. Another book. A journal belongng to Amanda Davies. Had he...had he taken her baby from her? Another book...Estelle's book. And a small paperback of Emily Dickinson's poetry with a note inside the cover. And photographs. Old ones. All of Jack- soldier, a wedding picture, an amusement park, a sideshow. Weird.

There was an old accordian folder, tied closed with black string. Inside were papers, printouts, notes. Blog entries. Blogs and instant message transcripts. Jack couldn't read them fast enough. Gwen, Owen and Tosh discussing Jack. He knew these things? A transcript between he and Ianto about Suzie. And then anotherabout her. Something from a guy named Peter. A hostile note from Owen. More pages on Owen, about his time in med school, in A&E, in Torchwood. Investigate Gwen Cooper with a task for each of the team. A report from himself on the device called the Ghost Machine. Two transcripts with Ianto. One about John, and another about his death. Suicide. In Ianto's car. Jack noted he said nothing about sitting with the man so he wouldn't die alone. Another, as well...about Rhys. Jack closed his eyes and tucked the pages away.

There was too much. He needed time to piece it together. It was in the barest semblance of order, but the dates were mixed up, there was too much handwritting that he needed to go over slowly.

He pulled all of it out of the bag and heard a sound that prompted him to look inside. In the very bottom was a small plastic pill bottle. He lifted it out as well and held it up. White pills. Seven of them.

Somehow, he didn't think they were Vicodin.

Comments

[coffee_sir]

Ianto had glanced at Jack's figure in the rec room before he had headed into the kitchen to make coffee, and at the time, nothing had seemed amiss. When he walked into the rec room with two mugs of coffee in his hands, something had clearly changed.

"Where'd you get those?" Ianto asked, the smallest quiver of nervousness in his voice. Perhaps the better question would have been "Why did you take those?", but Jack didn't have to go stealing from Ianto in order to get retcon pills. They both knew that. At least Ianto hoped. He was just still a little on edge from his discovery of pills.

[captainjack.livejournal.com]

Jack shook the bottle a little, just enough to hear the tablets rattle around, and he looked up at Ianto with a look of barely concealed befuddlement.

"It...appeared. With all the rest of this," he replied, clearly dazed. "I don't even know what, no, I know. It's just," he paused and looked at the papers and books. "This is who I become?"

[coffee_sir]

"A collection of badly organized papers and books?" Ianto asked, having stepped over to the table and set down the two mugs. Sitting down without invitation, presuming there was no need for one, Ianto glanced at the books, recognizing them as familiar on sight, and then started sifting through some of the papers.

Transcripts of conversations, memos, reports.

"Well," Ianto said, pausing after a few seconds, slowly realizing what was laid out before them. "There's more to you than this, obviously, but... yes," he answered. "After a fashion."

[captainjack.livejournal.com]

"Some of this I had an idea about because of the films, but the rest is so...ordinary," Jack said. "If this was all a person had to go on, they'd think I was some sort of voyeuristic control freak."

He picked up the leather-bound journal and waved it at Ianto.

"Who obviously doesn't get laid enough."

[coffee_sir]

Ianto lifted an eyebrow at Jack, running his teeth over his bottom lip to keep from commenting too quickly. "I don't know if I'd call it all ordinary," he replied. "Nor would I say you didn't get laid enough," he added, then shook his head as he continued to shift through the papers.

"But it does... paint an interesting picture."

[captainjack.livejournal.com]

"That's putting it mildly," he scoffed. "Like this..."

Jack picked up Estelle's book which had her letters tucked inside the cover.

"I saw this in the films, but there's so much more. All it does is make me wonder what happened in this week we spent together. Did I tell you about her? Or, will I, that's the better question."

[coffee_sir]

Nibbling at his upper lip, Ianto stacked the papers he was perusing back into a neat pile in the order in which they had been. He hesitated for a few seconds longer before answering.

"No," he said, shaking his head. "He didn't say anything about her. Nothing more than what we needed to know about the case. And.. what you told Gwen, of course." Watching the tapes, of course, it was easy to see that Jack had a previous relationship with Estelle. But from his position safely behind his desk, Ianto didn't even have the opportunity to even read Jack in her presence.

[captainjack.livejournal.com]

He leaned back, tossing the book back onto the table. "I don't even know what to make of this. It's a hundred years of a life I never lived. It's names and dates that make little to no sense out of context."

He was so frustrated, feeling like he should know the information, but didn't. But instead of a two year gap, it was a century.

"And this?" he asked, holding up the bottle. "It's what I think it is?"

[coffee_sir]

"Maybe you shouldn't make anything out of it," Ianto responded, shaking his head just slightly. "Like you said, it's years you've never lived. You already know so much of your future from those reels... Should you really know any more?"

Ianto looked up, giving the bottle a wary gaze, teeth working lightly at his upper lip. "Yes. Retcon. Seems to be a popular item, seeing as I've already received a bottle from the island."

[captainjack.livejournal.com]

"What I'd love to know is how I get from resenting the Time Agency for taking two years from me to becoming the guy who would steal memories," he said bitterly, tossing the bottle into the bottom of the case. "Now that I've got this, I don't see how I'm supposed to just ignore it. Not like I can ignore anything else around hre," he sighed, rubbing his eyes with one hand.

"And what good is Retcon here, anyhow? What good is any of this? A diary? What kind of grown man...and an unkillable one, at that...keeps a diary?"

[coffee_sir]

Ianto shrugged in answer with a mild expression. "Diaries can be very therapeutic. Just putting one's thoughts into writing, onto a page, rather than having them running around in one's brain can be a help. And... well, it wasn't as if you were telling any of us anything. I suppose you had to talk to someone."

He gave the bottle another wary, dismissive look. "Retcon isn't of any use. Except perhaps to make someone forget trauma. And for the island to have some way of making us miserable by any means necessary."

[captainjack.livejournal.com]

With a shrug and a sigh, he started stuffing the things back into the case. "Good to know I need therapy in the future, too," he remarked. If only it was as easy to pack away the things he thought and the things he felt as it was to fill the attache. He'd been able to as recently as a year ago. He'd be able to again one day when he wasn't here. But now was what he had to deal with.

"Do you know anything about me at all, Ianto? Really?" he asked without looking up.

[coffee_sir]

"We all do," Ianto responded dryly, watching Jack pack the things away, but not helping. This wasn't the sort of thing he was meant to help with. His eyes just followed Jack's hands, and he rested his forearms against the table, folding his hands together.

"Which you?" he asked. "You or him?"

[captainjack.livejournal.com]

"Him. I've been high around you enough that you know as much as anyone here," he said, managing a smile...albeit small.

[coffee_sir]

Ianto smiled faintly in return, then shrugged as he glanced down at the table. "Not especially. I know him, but I don't know facts. I've never asked or felt like I needed them. Just gone by what I've seen. And blind faith."

He looked up again after biting at his lower lip. "Which is probably why I like you better."

[captainjack.livejournal.com]

"Blind faith will get you, everytime," Jack replied, shaking his head. He picked up the leather bound journal again and turned it so Ianto could read it, the page open to information about him. "This is what I think about you in the future, I guess. There's so much more than that. Here, I mean. Me."

[coffee_sir]

Scanning his eyes quickly over the page, Ianto held out a small hope that there was in fact more to it there, as well. At least a little. But the here and now was where he was living, so he gave Jack a half-smile. "Glad I'm here then," he said.

[captainjack.livejournal.com]

"Any idea what I'm supposed to do with all this? It's the life of a guy I keep saying I'm not, but here it is. Maybe the Retcon is so I can read it al and forget." Jack smiled at the idea, only barely considering it.

[coffee_sir]

The bare smile disappeared at the suggestion. "Maybe. Only there's still the reels and us to remind you," Ianto responded, keeping his tone light. He took in a deep breath and then sighed it out. "Maybe just read it and learn from it. You know who you've been, you know who you will be. Helps to make you who you are. ... Or I could just get rid of it for you, if you'd rather."

[captainjack.livejournal.com]

"No. No...never know when it might come in handy," he replied, tucking it back into the case. There were a few days in particular that he'd have felt lucky to have this bottle handy. It would have been so nice to just forget.

Jack looked over the collection of himself, portions of who he'd become. He wasn't sure if it was a warning or a map, but whatever it was, it was here and it was his.

"Ianto..." he started, looking up, then back at the assorted papers. "Thank you."

[coffee_sir]

Ianto watched Jack pack away the bottle with a wary gaze. He had the same rationalization, as he hid the jar of retcon that had simply appeared before him, but he wasn't sure how good of a rationalization it was. Or how strong any of them were, ultimately, should a situation arise.

His eyes found Jack's again and an eyebrow rose. "You're welcome," he responded, though there was a hint of confusion in his eyes, in the smallest wrinkle between his brows.

[captainjack.livejournal.com]

Jackcaught the look, but he simply smiled at Ianto. "I'm going to go hide this someplace safe. I might have more questions later, but right now," he said, then shrugged. "I'm not this guy."

He picked up the case and double checked that nothing got left behind, then rose fluidly and started for the door. "I'll see you, Ianto."