The Hunt

Chapter Sixteen

“Let me in, Jack. I’m already part of this, so let me in.” Andy requested it, and he was so surely expecting something else that for a moment he was taken aback by the look Jack gave him, but then he could see Jack’s refusal without him needing to say it. It was in his eyes and his posture, and the sharpened sense of sorrow. Clearly, Jack had expected this question. Andy shook his head.

“Oh, come on!” he said with a faint laugh of disbelief, sure that he couldn’t mean it. Not after everything. Jack didn’t smile back, and something inside him trembled as if he could sense approaching trouble. “Don’t…!”

“Jack?” Ianto asked, some kind of confusion in him at the exchange, though he looked like he was beginning to understand when Jack replied to him.

“I can’t,” Jack said in self-defence, holding out his hands, surely regretfully. Andy shook his head again as Ianto turned to him, obviously deciding to try a different tack for now.

“What is it? What’s happened?”

For a moment he considered the thing that had brought him to this point. Remembered that second all over again when it was almost himself doing the wrong thing, and he sighed heavily.

“I was chasing someone. A kid, actually. A skinny little kid with the kind of social issues that’ll kill him in the end. But I thought he was one of them.” Andy didn’t need to clarify that point. Both Jack and Ianto just lowered their eyes. “God, it was so real! I was on top of him and I was ready to take it out before I realised it’s just a kid in a mask.”

“How did you end up giving chase?” Ianto queried.

“It doesn’t matter how I got there,” Andy said. Really, it was a moot point. “But I did, and it’ll happen again. I’m jumping at shadows, trying to be aware of both things at the same time, and it can’t work.” He glanced at Jack, suddenly realising something and wanting to accuse him. “You know it can’t work. You’ve always known – right from the beginning.”

Jack looked more than uncomfortable – he looked guilty. Andy pressed on, aware that there wasn’t really anything for Jack to be guilty about, but willing to use that if it got him what he wanted. What he needed. “I can’t be this… I can’t be both. I can’t be here and there at the same time. Don’t do this to me. Don’t make it impossible.”

Yet, for all of the guilt and the regret on Jack’s face, it was clear none of it was changing his mind. Andy went to the last resort and pleaded, beginning to fear for himself at last – when it was already far too late to stop and think. The time for that had long since passed them all by. “Please! I’m asking you not to do it to me.”

Jack was unmoved. Actually, that wasn’t right – Jack wasn’t unaffected by the plea, but he was clearly resolute, despite his feelings. “I’m sorry,” Jack said, and then swallowed.

There was a dull, empty ache in his heart. He’d expected something different, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t contemplated this all the way here: what he would do if there wasn’t a place for him. He’d considered it, and he’d considered all the options available to him. There weren’t many. “Then… make me forget,” he said slowly, feeling vulnerable, still staring at Jack, knowing that for all the refusals Jack could give, he couldn’t refuse him this. Make me forget. He didn’t just mean the incident today, because that wasn’t enough. He meant all of it. To stop it from happening again, he had to forget all of it.

He was aware of Ianto out of the corner of his eye, sitting up even straighter in his chair. Oh, he was aware of Ianto in so many different ways, and he was aware of all that was involved in ‘forgetting.’ It wouldn’t just be the list and the weevils that he lost all knowledge of. He didn’t need to look to see what that request had done to Ianto, and he was sorry – so sorry – but he couldn’t take it back.

“No,” Ianto said faintly, glaring at him, and Andy couldn’t meet his gaze. “No way.” Andy didn’t reply, keeping the eye contact with Jack as if his soul depended on it. Eventually, Ianto looked to Jack as well, and Andy felt the relief so strongly he swallowed past the suddenly painful lump in his throat. “Let him in,” Ianto demanded of Jack. “You know he’s useful. He can help us.”

“I can’t,” Jack said again, although clearly the point was that he wouldn’t.

“Why not?” Ianto asked loudly, almost childish, a slight edge of fear in his voice that Andy hated.

“Because it would be for the wrong reasons,” Jack replied, displaying more calm than any of them felt. “We already have a Police officer in Torchwood.” Being right didn’t mean being popular. That had never been truer, and yet Andy was aware he didn’t blame Jack. It would be for the wrong reasons, as good as those reasons were. The three of them. He caught himself looking at Ianto at last, feeling for the relationship that existed between the three of them as if he could almost touch the foundations and the ley lines of it. Threads impossibly woven together, making a coherent whole. The wrong reasons – so why did they feel so right?

They were all thinking of the same thing in the short, tense silence that followed. Eventually, he cleared his throat, because someone had to speak, and Jack still needed to say yes.

“Retcon,” he said, and this time Jack nodded at him just slightly.

“Don’t say that like you mean it,” Ianto interjected, “because I just know you don’t. You can’t mean it.”

“Why not?” Andy asked, glancing his way, beginning to lose patience with Ianto, even though, and possibly because, he knew exactly what was happening here. Sympathy for Ianto was at the forefront of his mind, knowing what they stood to lose – each other – and because of that he couldn’t keep his temper. “What would you have me be, then? Because I can’t carry on with the Police after this. Shall I be another little secret to go with all of your others?” he asked, slightly bitter, so harsh it had to be unforgivable.

“Shall I wait for every night, just to be with you?” Oh, don’t let that be sarcasm right there! Andy ploughed on ahead, though his heart warned him not to as they looked at each other. “Something you can pick up when you’re done with all of this?” He swept his arm out to indicate Jack, to indicate the Hub, to indicate Torchwood. To indicate the entire world. “All this…” he lost it and stood up, the chair moving out behind him, scraping on the floor, “…reality?!” He said the word as if it had injured him in some way, and kicked the chair away from him, feeling vicious, needing to get the frustration out of him somehow. He couldn’t do anything about it! “God!” he shouted at it all, and then deliberately calmed down, standing with his eyes closed for a second and his hands in his hair while he felt Ianto watching him.

Stupid little things. He could feel his hair curling around his fingers where he gripped it, the taste of the cool underground air that he breathed, the feel of his clothes against his skin. It was all very real. The crime he’d almost committed was real. As real as the Weevils in the cells downstairs and as real as the rift that Torchwood Cardiff dealt with. He was asking to forget the reality he had come to know, and it didn’t even give him pause. But to forget Ianto… to forget everything that had happened between them and all that they were together. To forget what he’d found in himself because of it.

“That’s not what I meant,” Ianto said quietly at last, and there was a note of pleading in his tone that had Andy wishing he could take back one or two of those last few sentences, but he couldn’t, and he couldn’t pretend any of it away either. They weren’t children. “Don’t do this to me,” Ianto said, and it was the first time he’d heard Ianto sound so lost, echoing his own words to Jack. Don’t make it impossible.

“But it’s what I’d be,” he said, helpless, opening his eyes only to find the accusation in Ianto more heartbreaking and less ferocious than he’d feared. He lowered his hands to the table and leaned against it, gaze flickering to Jack who looked more uncomfortable than ever. He looked upset, actually, but it was Ianto who took his attention with his next words.

“What do you want me to say?” he asked, his voice so gentle with reproach that Andy felt the gravity of it all the more. “You’re not choosing me.”

“No, I’m not,” Andy admitted, and oh, how that hurt to say, but it had to be said! “I’m choosing me.”

He willed Ianto to understand, and he wasn’t sure how he came to be on his knees in front of Ianto’s chair. That didn’t really matter, anyway. What mattered was the flow of feeling between them as they stared at each other, speaking in silence, the truth of his words heavy and immovable. Another little secret. How it would be between them. Losing himself in waiting and becoming less than what Ianto had seen in him from the beginning. Becoming less than who he loved. But there lie the temptation of it! Belonging to him completely. Existing best and only in the surety of his touch and desire while everything else that he was crumbled and dissipated a little at a time.

Ianto reached out a hand to his face, and he wanted it in spite of himself. “I would,” he confessed darkly, seeing the potential for obsession and possessive greed in Ianto and liking it despite what it would make them into. He knew if Ianto asked him for it now, he would agree.

“I don’t want you to do that,” Ianto said seriously, refusing him, apparently having imagined the same scenario because his voice was shaky with emotion. Andy couldn’t help himself, and he smiled.

“That’s why I –” he began automatically, and then stopped before he could say it fully. They didn’t need to say it; the way they looked at each other said it all more than words ever could.

“We’ll take care of you,” Jack said from behind him, and they both looked at him then as he picked up the chair that Andy had kicked over and righted it. Andy stood up.

“I know you will,” he said with a nod, being thankful that they could both apparently lean on Jack right now. “I trust you, Jack.” Strange that now, when Jack appeared the strongest, was the time that Andy could see clearly that Jack had risked something of himself. There was a profound respect in Jack’s eyes for him and for the request he’d made. For the first time, Andy realised that Jack had come to know him, and not just some convenient third party.

They took their places again in silence, the weight of it heavy upon them all.

“Ianto,” Jack said eventually, “we’re going to need coffee.”

A part of him instantly wanted to take it back then, because it didn’t have to be now. But then it did, and Jack already knew that. Because one more night would lead to one more, and one more… and to the place he and Ianto had both just refused to go.

But surely it was too much to ask. Andy shook his head and glanced meaningfully at Ianto. He wouldn’t ask Ianto to be a participant in this if he didn’t want to be. “I’ll get it,” he said.

As always, Ianto surprised him. “No, you won’t,” he said, standing up and moving away from the table. He paused, and his agreement to the request was there in his eyes. “I will.”

They waited while Ianto left, waited until they could hear the sounds of him at work, and then they looked at each other. Andy got up just to pace up and down at the side of the table, unable to just sit and wait for it.

“What will I forget?” Andy asked quietly, wanting – needing – to know.

“Everything.” Jack gave him the answer he least wanted, but the one he had expected. He watched closely as Jack got up and went to a small locked cabinet. One guess as to what it contained.

“And after I got to know you so well, too,” Andy said warmly, then straight away regretting it because this was going to hurt Jack as well. “You’re sure you won’t give me a choice between the red pill and the blue pill?” Andy asked, teasing in his nervousness, and Jack smiled briefly.

“I’m sorry,” Jack said then, becoming serious. What point was there in being sorry? Andy shrugged, and asked another of the questions that were important to him.

“Are there any side effects I should know about?”

“No. You’ll just go back to how it was before.” Well, that was all fine and well – except for that embarrassing crush on Gwen. He decided not to think about it. There weren’t any questions left, but there was a request. He didn’t need to make it, was certain that Jack would do exactly what he wanted, but he needed to make the point.

“Look after him?” Andy suggested, and Jack nodded, smiled.

“For the rest of his life.” Strange that through all of it, now was the time that it occurred to him just how seriously Jack took it all. First himself, and now Ianto, yet, if he had thought about it before, it was obvious that Jack was committed to Ianto. That was written in every single thing he did.

“I’ll remember you,” Jack said suddenly, surprising him, and Andy swallowed, deciding not to meet Jack’s gaze. It wasn’t a platitude or an offhand promise when it came from him, it was forever. A part of him wanted to beg Jack not to.

“Jack, I –” he began, with the full intention of doing just that when Jack interrupted him, taking the choice away because it wasn’t his choice to make.

“I’ll miss you,” Jack said, tenderly and with care. It was too much. Andy felt duty-bound to lighten the moment somehow.

“I wish I could say the same,” he said dryly, and Jack’s lips twitched into a hesitant smile. They came back to the table at the same time as Ianto returned, and Andy watched him put a coffee down in each of their places.

“I really wish…” he said wistfully as Ianto came to stand behind him.

“I’ll never forget you,” Ianto said. There was a slight difference in the two sentiments. First from Jack, and now from Ianto, and he analysed that difference briefly. Ianto would remember him for the rest of his life, which was strangely closer to feeling like forever than Jack could offer.

“I’m sorry,” he said then, wishing there was another way out and knowing there wasn’t. For a moment he wondered why he couldn’t have been happy to just be a lorry driver instead. Rhys seemed to have done all right out of it. But then that was the difference between them really. Rhys earned a living, while he had a calling, and he couldn’t quite believe what he was about to give up for it. There really wasn’t a way to have Ianto and be true to himself, which was a lot more ironic than he really wanted to think about. “I just can’t…”

A hand rested on his shoulder, giving him strength, and for some reason he thought of the two of them together now. Jack and Ianto, just like this. “It’s all right. Really.” Ianto paused. “I couldn’t have done it any different if I had known.” There it was. The little bit of all this that said he didn’t regret a thing they had done. He reached up to Ianto’s hand and grasped it, because it was the same for him. He wouldn’t have passed this up, as much as it hurt now.

“We have a doctor friend,” Jack said quietly. “We’ll have her take care of you – take you to the hospital.” Andy nodded at that as Jack put two pills down in front of him. He picked one up and looked at it. Such a little thing – surely it couldn’t make all of this meaningless?

Without thinking too much, Andy took both at the same time, letting go of Ianto’s hand to do it, a small swallow of the coffee going with them, then just sat at the table, trading glances with Jack.

“Is this goodbye?” Andy asked nervously. “How long does it take to work?”

“I thought the less time the better. It’s quick,” Jack said, erasing his fears of being sat in silence for the next couple of hours while Jack and Ianto waited for him to keel over. That wouldn’t be the most comfortable way to end it. Jack cleared his throat apologetically. “It’s the same one that got me.”

“Oh!” Andy said, and then gave them both a wry smile as Ianto sat down in the chair next to him. “Well, that’s just…” Ianto just looked at him, and he shrugged. That it ended this way was just perfect irony. “You’ve got to smile, really, haven’t you?”

“I thought it was laugh?” Ianto challenged, arms folded neatly on the table, and it was so right that even now the banter between them continued. Andy blinked slowly, and wondered if it was his imagination or if it was beginning.

“Actually,” he said with a nod of his head to indicate Jack, “it’s: ‘He who laughs last, lives longest.’ But, yeah – get all the points you can, while you can.”

“I haven’t been keeping score,” Ianto admitted, looking uncomfortable.

“Why not?” Andy asked, and he seemed to have to wait far too long for Ianto’s answer. It was his own perception of time that was off kilter, he was certain.

“You’re winning,” Ianto said, and it meant so much more than the games they played.

“No, I’m not,” Andy asserted, dragging his eyes open when he blinked again. “I don’t want to forget this.” He grasped Ianto’s hand again, somewhat urgently, and shook his head in confusion. Straight away he wished he hadn’t, since the room took longer to recover than he did. Something wasn’t quite right in what he’d said. He tried again.

“I don’t want to forget you…” There. That was it. Again, he seemed to wait too long for Ianto to come back with a reply, and it really shouldn’t be like this between them. It never had been before.

“You’re killing me,” Ianto said eventually.

“I’m sorry,” Andy replied, and struggled towards some kind of conscious thought, because they couldn’t end on this. It was too sad for them.

Thankfully, Ianto seemed to want the same thing, because he smiled slowly. “It’s all right. You won’t remember that bit.” It sounded familiar to Andy, and he took a long minute to remember it was what he’d said to Jack when he’d gone down with this pill. What was the reply? He thought about it, and then he smiled back.

“You’ll remind me,” he said in victory, then added something more serious to the statement. “If you ever need me, remind me.”

Ianto nodded. “If I have any excuse at all, you’ll be mine.” It was everything he wanted to hear.

“I hope you don’t expect me to fall into your arms as well,” he murmured, still teasing even now, and his words were beginning to slur as he slumped forward onto the table a bit, just not quite able to lift his head anymore. As if he’d asked, he felt himself being pulled into an embrace where they sat at the side of each other. Andy slipped away before he could enjoy being held in Ianto’s arms. And that was the end, because it couldn’t happen again. They had been lucky.