Cathryn (formerly catslash) (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
remindmeofthe) wrote2009-06-18 07:37 pm
remindmeofthe) wrote2009-06-18 07:37 pm
Entry tags:
"Full Circle," PG, Rhys, Gwen, Jack
My first non-Owencentric Torchwood fic is finally complete! Just in time to be completely contradicted in a few weeks.
TITLE: "Full Circle"
AUTHOR: Cathryn (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
catslash)
RATING: PG
WORD COUNT: Approximately 1600
CHARACTERS/PAIRINGS: Rhys, Gwen, Jack. Gwen/Rhys, offscreen Jack/Ianto.
SUMMARY: Rhys had come to understand, after Tosh and Owen, that he had married into that family; now, while Gwen and Jack tried to keep each other from falling apart, he had to keep them from drowning. Near-future AU.
WARNING: Offscreen character death.
NOTES: I started writing this not long after "Exit Wounds" aired, so any resemblance to spoilers or speculation for series three is pure coincidence.
NOTES THE SECOND: Also, if you can spot the reference to one of the novels, you get an internet cookie of your choice.
DISCLAIMER: Torchwood was created by Russell T Davies and belongs to the BBC. I take no credit and make no money.
Rhys Williams came home that day to find his wife on the floor, sobbing in her employer's arms. Jack Harkness was holding Gwen gently, cradling her. His expression was blank, tears falling down his face into Gwen's hair.
Rhys knew immediately what had happened. He crossed the room and knelt next to them, putting his arms around Gwen. Jack sat back, relinquishing his hold. Gwen clung to Rhys, pressing her face into his shoulder and choking out his name.
"It's all right, Gwen, I'm here." He held her tight and looked up at Jack. Jack had composed himself and looked, aside from red eyes, as though he had never been crying.
"Who?" Rhys asked quietly.
Things beyond the obvious had changed after Toshiko Sato and Owen Harper had died. It wasn't just that Mickey Smith and James Mayer had joined Torchwood, or that Gwen had struggled with grief and the accompanying moodswings that hurt Rhys to see. It was that she hovered closer to Rhys, touching him frequently, holding on for a few extra seconds whenever they hugged. It was that Jack and Ianto Jones started coming round, sometimes separately but mostly together, just to socialize, and as they all sat together and drank wine and avoided talk of Torchwood, Rhys watched the three of them stare at each other to make sure no one disappeared. Mickey and James had come round a few times too - James had a knack for making Gwen laugh that made Rhys wish he would visit more often - but those visits were more relaxed. They were Torchwood, but they weren't part of what Gwen and Jack and Ianto carried with them any more than Rhys was.
Rhys listened to Gwen's sobs and looked at Jack's resolute face and thought, I liked Ianto.
"I'm sorry," he said before Jack could speak. Jack's expression tightened and he broke eye contact, looking at Gwen.
"I didn't want her to be alone," he said after a moment. "Now that you're here, I should go."
"No." Gwen raised her head sharply and twisted round in Rhys's arms. Her grip on his shoulder was painfully tight as she reached out with her other hand to grab Jack's sleeve. "Please, Jack, you can't go."
Jack didn't dislodge her hand, but he said mildly, "It's not as if anything's going to happen to me."
"But what if it does?" Fear strengthened Gwen's voice rather than making it shake. "What if it does, and this time you don't come back?"
Jack looked at her for a long moment. Something flashed in his eyes before they softened and he put his hand over hers.
("It's all right for you," Rhys told Ianto over a six-pack, after Gwen had given up on the both of them and gone to bed before she could let herself drink too much. "Your boyfriend gets killed, you can just stick him in the car till he comes back and then it's business as usual. Not all of us are so lucky."
Ianto glanced at him. "There's no guarantee it's always going to work that way.")
It wasn't all that long ago that part of Rhys would have been quietly, seethingly jealous over the look that passed between Gwen and Jack in that moment. And, perhaps, not long ago he would have been right. But now there was nothing of that between them, just the desperation of family trying to keep each other sane. Rhys had come to understand, after Tosh and Owen, that he had married into that family; now, while Gwen and Jack tried to keep each other from falling apart, he had to keep them from drowning.
"Can't have you wandering off by yourself tonight, Jack," he said quietly. Jack's gaze flicked up to meet his.
"You gonna stop me?" he asked, but there was no heat in the question. Just weariness. Rhys nodded.
"'Course I am. And you know I'd hate to have to embarrass you," he answered. Jack's expression lightened just a touch.
"Guess I'm staying, then."
**********
Jack shared their bed that night, Gwen in the middle and both of them lying close to her. She slept deeply, but clutched them as if she were awake and terrified they'd disappear if she wasn't careful. Rhys closed his eyes and didn't sleep at all, and he knew Jack was doing the same thing. It was still dark when he heard Jack give up and carefully extricate himself from Gwen's hold, getting up and going out into the kitchen. Gwen shifted and wrapped herself around Rhys. He held her as close as he could, unable to sleep, half-listening to Jack. He was talking, voice low and indistinct through the closed door. Must've rung James or Mickey, Rhys thought. Checking up on them. The breaking of the silence that had taken hold of the flat proved to be oddly lulling, and Rhys finally found himself dozing off.
He woke a couple hours later, stomach sour from too little sleep. Gwen's hold on him had relaxed, and she'd gotten hold of the pillow Jack had been using, one arm wrapped firmly around it. Rhys could hear only silence from the kitchen, and after a moment or two, he couldn't tolerate lying still any longer. He kissed Gwen's temple and got out of bed slowly, taking as much care as he could not to disturb her. She sighed a little and tightened her grip on the pillow, but her eyes stayed closed, so Rhys made his way out to the kitchen.
"Morning, Rhys." Jack was leaning against the counter, hands wrapped around a mug. "I've made some coffee, if you're interested."
Rhys was tempted - not only did the coffee smell wonderful, but the maker was a gift from Ianto not too long ago, and it seemed appropriate today. He knew from bitter experience, though, that taking in that much caffeine on so little sleep would only make him nauseous, jittery, and irritable, none of which would do any of them any favors right now.
"Thanks, but I'm just going to have some tea," he said, filling the kettle and switching it on.
"You sure? C'mon, I spent twenty minutes cleaning this thing out. Do you guys ever use it?"
Rhys glanced over him. "We just kept it out so Ianto would think we did," he admitted. A painful flicker of emotion played over Jack's face for just a second before his expression froze.
"I don't think he was fooled," he said, too light, too smooth. He took one of the mugs already sitting out and filled it, then held it out to Rhys.
"Have some coffee, Rhys," he said quietly.
Rhys didn't have the heart to turn him down a second time. He nodded and took the mug, murmuring thanks as he raised it to sip.
"Don't drink it, Rhys." He looked up, surprised, to see Gwen in the doorway of the bedroom. Her eyes were tired and sharp all at once as they flicked from him to Jack. "What are you doing, Jack?"
Jack exhaled, looked down, looked back up at her.
"You're fired, Gwen."
"No," she said, crossing the flat into the kitchen. "No, I'm not leaving you alone, Jack -"
"Yes," he interrupted, "you are. This isn't up for discussion."
Gwen took the mug from Rhys and emptied it into the sink.
"So you were just going to Retcon us without warning?" she asked. "Retcon Rhys? You can't fire him, he doesn't work for you."
"That is kind of how we operate, yeah," Jack said tightly. "Allowing Rhys to keep his memory of Torchwood was completely unprecedented and highly unorthodox. What do you expect me to do, Gwen, Retcon you and leave his memory intact?"
"Wait a minute," Rhys said. "The memory drug? You've put the memory drug in the coffee?"
"Ex-employees aren't permitted to remember Torchwood," Jack answered, glancing toward him. "In this case, that extends to you." His gaze lingered for just a second before he turned his attention back to Gwen.
"I'm not leaving you," she said again, stubborn as Rhys had ever heard her. "James and Mickey, they're great, but Jack, you and I are . . . we're all that's left from before." Her voice broke a little; she took a deep breath, swallowed hard, and kept going. "It would be like leaving them, too."
"Would you rather join them?" Jack's veneer cracked for a moment before he lifted his chin and gave Gwen a challenging stare.
In the silence that followed, the kettle began to whistle. Rhys switched it off. Then he picked up the pot of Jack's coffee, filled the mug Gwen had emptied, and started drinking.
"Rhys!" Gwen gasped, hurrying to him and catching hold of his wrist. He looked at her, putting his hand to her cheek.
"If you die, Gwen," he said, "it'll kill me."
"Oh, Rhys," she whispered, letting go of his wrist to cradle his face in her hands.
"Please, Gwen. He's right. Please." He could already feel the sedative in the drug kicking in, making things fuzzy around the edges.
She looked at him for a long moment, then looked at Jack. Then she looked back at Rhys and, without breaking eye contact, she took the mug from him, raised it to her lips, and drank.
TITLE: "Full Circle"
AUTHOR: Cathryn (
catslash)RATING: PG
WORD COUNT: Approximately 1600
CHARACTERS/PAIRINGS: Rhys, Gwen, Jack. Gwen/Rhys, offscreen Jack/Ianto.
SUMMARY: Rhys had come to understand, after Tosh and Owen, that he had married into that family; now, while Gwen and Jack tried to keep each other from falling apart, he had to keep them from drowning. Near-future AU.
WARNING: Offscreen character death.
NOTES: I started writing this not long after "Exit Wounds" aired, so any resemblance to spoilers or speculation for series three is pure coincidence.
NOTES THE SECOND: Also, if you can spot the reference to one of the novels, you get an internet cookie of your choice.
DISCLAIMER: Torchwood was created by Russell T Davies and belongs to the BBC. I take no credit and make no money.
Rhys Williams came home that day to find his wife on the floor, sobbing in her employer's arms. Jack Harkness was holding Gwen gently, cradling her. His expression was blank, tears falling down his face into Gwen's hair.
Rhys knew immediately what had happened. He crossed the room and knelt next to them, putting his arms around Gwen. Jack sat back, relinquishing his hold. Gwen clung to Rhys, pressing her face into his shoulder and choking out his name.
"It's all right, Gwen, I'm here." He held her tight and looked up at Jack. Jack had composed himself and looked, aside from red eyes, as though he had never been crying.
"Who?" Rhys asked quietly.
Things beyond the obvious had changed after Toshiko Sato and Owen Harper had died. It wasn't just that Mickey Smith and James Mayer had joined Torchwood, or that Gwen had struggled with grief and the accompanying moodswings that hurt Rhys to see. It was that she hovered closer to Rhys, touching him frequently, holding on for a few extra seconds whenever they hugged. It was that Jack and Ianto Jones started coming round, sometimes separately but mostly together, just to socialize, and as they all sat together and drank wine and avoided talk of Torchwood, Rhys watched the three of them stare at each other to make sure no one disappeared. Mickey and James had come round a few times too - James had a knack for making Gwen laugh that made Rhys wish he would visit more often - but those visits were more relaxed. They were Torchwood, but they weren't part of what Gwen and Jack and Ianto carried with them any more than Rhys was.
Rhys listened to Gwen's sobs and looked at Jack's resolute face and thought, I liked Ianto.
"I'm sorry," he said before Jack could speak. Jack's expression tightened and he broke eye contact, looking at Gwen.
"I didn't want her to be alone," he said after a moment. "Now that you're here, I should go."
"No." Gwen raised her head sharply and twisted round in Rhys's arms. Her grip on his shoulder was painfully tight as she reached out with her other hand to grab Jack's sleeve. "Please, Jack, you can't go."
Jack didn't dislodge her hand, but he said mildly, "It's not as if anything's going to happen to me."
"But what if it does?" Fear strengthened Gwen's voice rather than making it shake. "What if it does, and this time you don't come back?"
Jack looked at her for a long moment. Something flashed in his eyes before they softened and he put his hand over hers.
("It's all right for you," Rhys told Ianto over a six-pack, after Gwen had given up on the both of them and gone to bed before she could let herself drink too much. "Your boyfriend gets killed, you can just stick him in the car till he comes back and then it's business as usual. Not all of us are so lucky."
Ianto glanced at him. "There's no guarantee it's always going to work that way.")
It wasn't all that long ago that part of Rhys would have been quietly, seethingly jealous over the look that passed between Gwen and Jack in that moment. And, perhaps, not long ago he would have been right. But now there was nothing of that between them, just the desperation of family trying to keep each other sane. Rhys had come to understand, after Tosh and Owen, that he had married into that family; now, while Gwen and Jack tried to keep each other from falling apart, he had to keep them from drowning.
"Can't have you wandering off by yourself tonight, Jack," he said quietly. Jack's gaze flicked up to meet his.
"You gonna stop me?" he asked, but there was no heat in the question. Just weariness. Rhys nodded.
"'Course I am. And you know I'd hate to have to embarrass you," he answered. Jack's expression lightened just a touch.
"Guess I'm staying, then."
**********
Jack shared their bed that night, Gwen in the middle and both of them lying close to her. She slept deeply, but clutched them as if she were awake and terrified they'd disappear if she wasn't careful. Rhys closed his eyes and didn't sleep at all, and he knew Jack was doing the same thing. It was still dark when he heard Jack give up and carefully extricate himself from Gwen's hold, getting up and going out into the kitchen. Gwen shifted and wrapped herself around Rhys. He held her as close as he could, unable to sleep, half-listening to Jack. He was talking, voice low and indistinct through the closed door. Must've rung James or Mickey, Rhys thought. Checking up on them. The breaking of the silence that had taken hold of the flat proved to be oddly lulling, and Rhys finally found himself dozing off.
He woke a couple hours later, stomach sour from too little sleep. Gwen's hold on him had relaxed, and she'd gotten hold of the pillow Jack had been using, one arm wrapped firmly around it. Rhys could hear only silence from the kitchen, and after a moment or two, he couldn't tolerate lying still any longer. He kissed Gwen's temple and got out of bed slowly, taking as much care as he could not to disturb her. She sighed a little and tightened her grip on the pillow, but her eyes stayed closed, so Rhys made his way out to the kitchen.
"Morning, Rhys." Jack was leaning against the counter, hands wrapped around a mug. "I've made some coffee, if you're interested."
Rhys was tempted - not only did the coffee smell wonderful, but the maker was a gift from Ianto not too long ago, and it seemed appropriate today. He knew from bitter experience, though, that taking in that much caffeine on so little sleep would only make him nauseous, jittery, and irritable, none of which would do any of them any favors right now.
"Thanks, but I'm just going to have some tea," he said, filling the kettle and switching it on.
"You sure? C'mon, I spent twenty minutes cleaning this thing out. Do you guys ever use it?"
Rhys glanced over him. "We just kept it out so Ianto would think we did," he admitted. A painful flicker of emotion played over Jack's face for just a second before his expression froze.
"I don't think he was fooled," he said, too light, too smooth. He took one of the mugs already sitting out and filled it, then held it out to Rhys.
"Have some coffee, Rhys," he said quietly.
Rhys didn't have the heart to turn him down a second time. He nodded and took the mug, murmuring thanks as he raised it to sip.
"Don't drink it, Rhys." He looked up, surprised, to see Gwen in the doorway of the bedroom. Her eyes were tired and sharp all at once as they flicked from him to Jack. "What are you doing, Jack?"
Jack exhaled, looked down, looked back up at her.
"You're fired, Gwen."
"No," she said, crossing the flat into the kitchen. "No, I'm not leaving you alone, Jack -"
"Yes," he interrupted, "you are. This isn't up for discussion."
Gwen took the mug from Rhys and emptied it into the sink.
"So you were just going to Retcon us without warning?" she asked. "Retcon Rhys? You can't fire him, he doesn't work for you."
"That is kind of how we operate, yeah," Jack said tightly. "Allowing Rhys to keep his memory of Torchwood was completely unprecedented and highly unorthodox. What do you expect me to do, Gwen, Retcon you and leave his memory intact?"
"Wait a minute," Rhys said. "The memory drug? You've put the memory drug in the coffee?"
"Ex-employees aren't permitted to remember Torchwood," Jack answered, glancing toward him. "In this case, that extends to you." His gaze lingered for just a second before he turned his attention back to Gwen.
"I'm not leaving you," she said again, stubborn as Rhys had ever heard her. "James and Mickey, they're great, but Jack, you and I are . . . we're all that's left from before." Her voice broke a little; she took a deep breath, swallowed hard, and kept going. "It would be like leaving them, too."
"Would you rather join them?" Jack's veneer cracked for a moment before he lifted his chin and gave Gwen a challenging stare.
In the silence that followed, the kettle began to whistle. Rhys switched it off. Then he picked up the pot of Jack's coffee, filled the mug Gwen had emptied, and started drinking.
"Rhys!" Gwen gasped, hurrying to him and catching hold of his wrist. He looked at her, putting his hand to her cheek.
"If you die, Gwen," he said, "it'll kill me."
"Oh, Rhys," she whispered, letting go of his wrist to cradle his face in her hands.
"Please, Gwen. He's right. Please." He could already feel the sedative in the drug kicking in, making things fuzzy around the edges.
She looked at him for a long moment, then looked at Jack. Then she looked back at Rhys and, without breaking eye contact, she took the mug from him, raised it to her lips, and drank.