silver_sun (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
silver_sun) wrote2010-10-03 10:53 pm
silver_sun) wrote2010-10-03 10:53 pm
Fic: The Spaces In Bewteen - Part one.
Title: The Spaces in Between
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
the_silver_sun
Artist/Fan mixer:heddychaa
Beta:alt_universe_me
Characters/Pairings: Past Jack/Ianto, Gwen/Rhys, alt!Tosh/alt!Owen, Jack/alt!Ianto friendship (or pre-slash if you want to see it as that.)
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 18,500 (in seven parts)
Warnings: Mention of past canon character deaths. CoE compliant. Non-graphic death of a whole planet. Spoilers for Doctor Who episodes Stolen Earth and Journeys End.
Summary: On a distant planet, Jack struggles to come to terms with everything that has happened, however his world is about to change again when Ianto Jones, from a parallel Earth, arrives seeking his help.
Notes: A big thank you toalt_universe_me for being a great beta, and to heddychaa for her lovely fan mix.
Fan Mix can be found here:
Part one
The bar is dark, the dim orange glow of decrepit sodium lights on the walls doing little to alleviate the gloom. Alcohol, tobacco and exotic spices war with stale sweat in the humid air, while the chatter of a dozen different alien races is frequently interrupted by the roar of ships taking off from the nearby spaceport.
Sat in one of the corner booths, Jack drinks with the single-minded determination of a man seeking oblivion. Nobody bothers him, not even the prostitutes and hawkers who work the bars hoping to make some fast cash from the travellers who've just come off the deep space transports and mining ships. Whether it's because of the ripped and bloodstained greatcoat he huddles into like it's his armour against the world or the look in his eyes, Jack doesn't know or care; he's not looking for company, not tonight.
Picking up the bottle on the table in front of him, Jack closes his eyes as he takes another long drink. He's not sure what the drink is called, he'd just asked the bartender for something that was strong and inexpensive. Nor does he care that it tastes like cheap vodka mixed with something vaguely floral, all that matters is that it's getting him drunk, and it's doing it fast.
Because tonight all he wants to do is forget. Forget why he's here in this seedy bar next to a run down spaceport, forget why he left Earth all those months ago, forget the faces of all the people that he has failed. It's worse than failure though, it's killed, murdered his own flesh and blood. Stephen, who'd been a child with his whole life ahead of him, lies dead, while he, nothing but a freak of nature who's already lived far too long, gets to go on living.
A sob wells up in his throat, the harshness of the cheap alcohol making him cough and splutter. Jack stares at the bottle through tear-blurred eyes, wondering why he thought he could ever deserve to forget, or have any peace, after what he did.
Disgusted at himself, Jack hurls the bottle away, knowing he won't drink any more of it tonight.
The bottle shatters off the door frame narrowly missing two Hath who've just walked in. They glare at him, their water respirators bubbling rapidly as they call over to the Judoon who acts as a bouncer for the bar.
Large, and heavily scarred across his face and arms, the Judoon, most likely pensioned off from his mercenary unit to find work wherever he can, turns to look at him.
Realising that he's no longer wanted in the bar, Jack stands up quickly, intending to leave before he's thrown out. The room seems to spin as he tries to walk round the table, and he realises he's considerably more drunk than he thought he was.
He's about to tell the Judoon that he's not going to make any trouble, but the Judoon snorts bad-temperedly, obviously uninterested in what Jack has to say. Grabbing Jack's arm, he twists it behind his back and forcibly walks him to the door of the bar.
It's raining outside, torrential and cold, making deep puddles in the worn pavement in front of the bar. The Judoon pushes Jack forcefully outside, letting go of him as he does so, causing him to stumble and fall forwards. Jack doesn't have enough time, or coordination to put out his hands to try and soften the fall, and he lands hard.
The Judoon rumbles something that Jack guesses means something along the lines of 'you're barred' before lumbering back inside the bar.
Jack lies for a moment in the rain soaked street before rolling over with a groan. Looking up at the stars and the lights of the various ships waiting to land, Jack is wondering if he's sober enough to stand up without the aid of a wall to lean on when his vortex manipulator emits a long low beep, followed by a static crackle of interference before going silent again.
Frowning, Jack sits up and opens the cover to check the incoming transmissions. The readings are strange, as if the vortex manipulator had been trying to receive a message from itself.
The only explanation that comes to Jack's less than clear mind is that it has started malfunctioning. It's not a pleasant conclusion to come to, as without it he's stranded on this planet unless he can either get a job on one mining ships or freighters or find somebody who'll hire him for whatever they need doing. Given the age of the manipulator though, and all the damage it has taken over the years, Jack knows that it should probably have burnt out years ago or that the intentional breaking of it by the Doctor should have proved permanent.
Checking the readings again, and then the power settings, Jack tries to reassure himself that it's not about to stop working again. Eventually, once he's satisfied that whatever the glitch was that had affected it isn't about to cause it to burn out, Jack gets slowly to his feet.
He can feel the effects of the alcohol starting to diminish already, and not for the first time Jack hates the fact that his immortality seems to affect ability to get and stay drunk as badly as it affects sleeping and dying. He's not in the mood to try and find another bar though, and with rain starting to fall more heavily, he decides to head back to the motel room that he's renting.
He's most of the way back to the motel when somebody on the street behind him shouts, “Jack, wait!”
Jack stops, but doesn't turn round. He knows he's not so drunk that he's likely to be hallucinating, but the voice is so impossibly familiar that he can't face the disappointment that has to happen when he does.
Running footsteps sound sharply on the wet pavement behind him, but still Jack doesn't move. After a moment the footsteps stop just behind him, and a hand grips his shoulder.
A little out of breath from running the man asks, “Jack?”
The accent, the gentle yet firm grip, even the hint of self-doubt in the way he ask his name, and Jack's voice wavers slightly as he says, “Ianto?”
“Not exactly. I am Ianto Jones, but I'm not your Ianto.”
Jack turns round slowly, heart pounding. Needing to know, but still afraid at what he'll find.
The pain and sorrow in this Ianto's eyes is clear as they, just for a moment, meet Jack's. Then he looks away, adding sadly, “Just the same as you're not my Jack.”
He's right. Jack can tell that straight away. As while there are similarities between this Ianto and his there are obvious differences as well. This Ianto is a little older, and looks thinner and more careworn than his ever did, even in the immediate aftermath of Lisa's death.
His suit fits badly, although Jack suspects that is because he's lost weight since he bought it. The obviously heavy, and improvised rig holding a variety of power cells that he's wearing over it doesn't do much for its fit either.
The power cells, some of designs that Jack recognises and some that he doesn't, have been daisy-chained together with surge protectors and circuit breakers ingeniously linked in. There's probably enough energy there to power a small city for a few weeks. It's certainly far more than is needed simply for teleportation, or even for time travel, unless you're travelling millennia in a single jump without the benefit of the Doctor's help.
The only possibility that Jack can think of is inter-dimensional travel. However, that shouldn't be possible, not any more, the Doctor had been quite clear on the matter to him after he'd returned Rose to what is now her world; the window for travel between parallel worlds was closed. He'd not questioned it; he wonders now if he should have, even though it's doubtful he would have been told any more even if he had.
Bitterness that he'd never thought he'd feel towards the Doctor wells up fuelled by grief, as he's suddenly sure that the Doctor wouldn't have trusted him with that kind of information anyway, not if his attitude towards allowing him to have a functional teleport was anything to go by.
A teleport that could have saved so many lives. He could have saved Owen, got Tosh to a hospital, Tosh would have worked out the 456's frequency with ease and nobody would have died. Closing his eyes, Jack lets misery wash over him.
“Are you all right?” Ianto asks, sounding concerned as he gestures at the bruise on Jack's face from where he'd collided with the pavement outside the bar.
“Yeah,” Jack replies, opening his eyes, although he's uncertain if he actually is. Physically he knows he is, that he always will be, but emotionally and mentally he can't even begin to say, not any more.
“You lost him, didn't you?” Ianto says softly, putting a hand on Jack's arm.
Jack nods, unable for a moment to speak. The grief is still too raw, and having this Ianto so close to him is doing nothing to help.
“I'm sorry.” He gives Jack's arm a small squeeze.
An awkward silence follows, with neither knowing what to say.
“This isn't Earth, is it?” Ianto asks, after a moment, looking up at the sky. A sky which is so lit up with light pollution that only the brightest of stars and the planet's three moons are visible through the gaps in the rain clouds.
“No,” Jack replies, grateful that Ianto has changed the subject and hasn't asked him how his counter part in this world died. Thinking for a moment, Jack turns and points to the left of the smallest of the moons. “Earth's about eighty light years that way.”
“Oh.” Ianto sounds surprised, as if he hadn't considered the possibility that he would materialise anywhere other than Earth.
Frowning at the patch of sky that Jack has pointed to, Ianto pushes up his sleeve to reveal a vortex manipulator, similar in design to Jack's.
“You're a Time Agent?” Jack asks, surprised. He knows that there are likely to be differences, possibly very big differences, between a person from a parallel worlds and the same person from his own. But Ianto as a Time Agent isn't a difference he would have thought of.
“No. It was Jack's.” Ianto's voice is tight from emotions barely kept in check as opens its cover. Not giving Jack the opportunity to ask why the Jack in his world no longer wanted or needed it, Ianto asks, “The Earth is still there, isn't it?”
“Where else would it be?” Jack replies, wondering if the now almost faded alcohol in his system is making him misunderstand Ianto's question.
“Lost, wandering through dead space. The planets were all pulled out of alignment last year,” Ianto says distractedly as he presses a couple of buttons on the vortex manipulator. “You should know this. I doubt your Earth escaped.”
Jack shakes his head. “It didn't. But the Doctor fixed it.”
“Different world, same blind faith,” Ianto says bitterly, accessing the coordinates and data about where he is.
“What do you mean?” Jack asks, not happy with Ianto's tone of voice.
“I mean my Earth never got put back into its proper orbit. My world lost its Doctor years ago.”
“He's dead?” Jack asks, shocked. Even though it's not his Doctor it's still hard to hear. It also makes him worry about why the Doctor didn't come to help.
“He turned his back on us,” Ianto replies a little distractedly as he tries to make sense of the readings on the modified vortex manipulator. “Thought we were causing too much trouble, that we'd cost him too much.”
“He wouldn't.” Jack hates the doubt in his voice, but after what happened with the 456 there have been times that he's had a hard time convincing himself of it. Rationally he knows that he Doctor can't be everywhere, can't always be the one to save the planet, but it's hard being rational when you've lost everything, and time doesn't seem to be making it any easier.
Ianto laughs humourlessly. “You really believe that?”
“I know it.” Jack realises that despite everything he really does still believe in the Doctor, knows that if the Doctor had been able to help he would have. He just hopes that there isn't a reason beyond he just didn't get the messages; he's not sure he could deal with losing the Doctor as well, not with everything else that has happened.
“He's a lucky man to have a friend like you. I hope he realises it,” Ianto says grudgingly.
But before Jack can ask any further questions a light begins to flash on one of the power cells.
"No," Ianto says mostly to himself. Closing the vortex manipulator, he flicks a switch on the surge protector nearest the flashing power cell. “No, you don't. Not now."
The light goes out for a moment, before coming back on brighter than before. Ianto's eyes widen, scared as he flicks the switch again. This time there is no change, the light continuing to flash, the pulses of light becoming faster and faster.
It's one of the power cells that Jack doesn't recognise the design of, but given Ianto's obvious concern, he's sure that it's a overload warning light. "Ianto, is there anything I can do?"
Ianto ignores him, looking quickly around at the densely packed buildings, trying to come to a decision. Then, with an expression that manages to be both scared and resigned at the same time, he takes hold of the wires connecting the power cell and pulls.
The circuit breaks with a burst of escaping energy that knocks them both off their feet with the force of the release.
Part 2.
Author:
the_silver_sunArtist/Fan mixer:
heddychaaBeta:
alt_universe_meCharacters/Pairings: Past Jack/Ianto, Gwen/Rhys, alt!Tosh/alt!Owen, Jack/alt!Ianto friendship (or pre-slash if you want to see it as that.)
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 18,500 (in seven parts)
Warnings: Mention of past canon character deaths. CoE compliant. Non-graphic death of a whole planet. Spoilers for Doctor Who episodes Stolen Earth and Journeys End.
Summary: On a distant planet, Jack struggles to come to terms with everything that has happened, however his world is about to change again when Ianto Jones, from a parallel Earth, arrives seeking his help.
Notes: A big thank you to
alt_universe_me for being a great beta, and to heddychaa for her lovely fan mix. Fan Mix can be found here:
Part one
The bar is dark, the dim orange glow of decrepit sodium lights on the walls doing little to alleviate the gloom. Alcohol, tobacco and exotic spices war with stale sweat in the humid air, while the chatter of a dozen different alien races is frequently interrupted by the roar of ships taking off from the nearby spaceport.
Sat in one of the corner booths, Jack drinks with the single-minded determination of a man seeking oblivion. Nobody bothers him, not even the prostitutes and hawkers who work the bars hoping to make some fast cash from the travellers who've just come off the deep space transports and mining ships. Whether it's because of the ripped and bloodstained greatcoat he huddles into like it's his armour against the world or the look in his eyes, Jack doesn't know or care; he's not looking for company, not tonight.
Picking up the bottle on the table in front of him, Jack closes his eyes as he takes another long drink. He's not sure what the drink is called, he'd just asked the bartender for something that was strong and inexpensive. Nor does he care that it tastes like cheap vodka mixed with something vaguely floral, all that matters is that it's getting him drunk, and it's doing it fast.
Because tonight all he wants to do is forget. Forget why he's here in this seedy bar next to a run down spaceport, forget why he left Earth all those months ago, forget the faces of all the people that he has failed. It's worse than failure though, it's killed, murdered his own flesh and blood. Stephen, who'd been a child with his whole life ahead of him, lies dead, while he, nothing but a freak of nature who's already lived far too long, gets to go on living.
A sob wells up in his throat, the harshness of the cheap alcohol making him cough and splutter. Jack stares at the bottle through tear-blurred eyes, wondering why he thought he could ever deserve to forget, or have any peace, after what he did.
Disgusted at himself, Jack hurls the bottle away, knowing he won't drink any more of it tonight.
The bottle shatters off the door frame narrowly missing two Hath who've just walked in. They glare at him, their water respirators bubbling rapidly as they call over to the Judoon who acts as a bouncer for the bar.
Large, and heavily scarred across his face and arms, the Judoon, most likely pensioned off from his mercenary unit to find work wherever he can, turns to look at him.
Realising that he's no longer wanted in the bar, Jack stands up quickly, intending to leave before he's thrown out. The room seems to spin as he tries to walk round the table, and he realises he's considerably more drunk than he thought he was.
He's about to tell the Judoon that he's not going to make any trouble, but the Judoon snorts bad-temperedly, obviously uninterested in what Jack has to say. Grabbing Jack's arm, he twists it behind his back and forcibly walks him to the door of the bar.
It's raining outside, torrential and cold, making deep puddles in the worn pavement in front of the bar. The Judoon pushes Jack forcefully outside, letting go of him as he does so, causing him to stumble and fall forwards. Jack doesn't have enough time, or coordination to put out his hands to try and soften the fall, and he lands hard.
The Judoon rumbles something that Jack guesses means something along the lines of 'you're barred' before lumbering back inside the bar.
Jack lies for a moment in the rain soaked street before rolling over with a groan. Looking up at the stars and the lights of the various ships waiting to land, Jack is wondering if he's sober enough to stand up without the aid of a wall to lean on when his vortex manipulator emits a long low beep, followed by a static crackle of interference before going silent again.
Frowning, Jack sits up and opens the cover to check the incoming transmissions. The readings are strange, as if the vortex manipulator had been trying to receive a message from itself.
The only explanation that comes to Jack's less than clear mind is that it has started malfunctioning. It's not a pleasant conclusion to come to, as without it he's stranded on this planet unless he can either get a job on one mining ships or freighters or find somebody who'll hire him for whatever they need doing. Given the age of the manipulator though, and all the damage it has taken over the years, Jack knows that it should probably have burnt out years ago or that the intentional breaking of it by the Doctor should have proved permanent.
Checking the readings again, and then the power settings, Jack tries to reassure himself that it's not about to stop working again. Eventually, once he's satisfied that whatever the glitch was that had affected it isn't about to cause it to burn out, Jack gets slowly to his feet.
He can feel the effects of the alcohol starting to diminish already, and not for the first time Jack hates the fact that his immortality seems to affect ability to get and stay drunk as badly as it affects sleeping and dying. He's not in the mood to try and find another bar though, and with rain starting to fall more heavily, he decides to head back to the motel room that he's renting.
He's most of the way back to the motel when somebody on the street behind him shouts, “Jack, wait!”
Jack stops, but doesn't turn round. He knows he's not so drunk that he's likely to be hallucinating, but the voice is so impossibly familiar that he can't face the disappointment that has to happen when he does.
Running footsteps sound sharply on the wet pavement behind him, but still Jack doesn't move. After a moment the footsteps stop just behind him, and a hand grips his shoulder.
A little out of breath from running the man asks, “Jack?”
The accent, the gentle yet firm grip, even the hint of self-doubt in the way he ask his name, and Jack's voice wavers slightly as he says, “Ianto?”
“Not exactly. I am Ianto Jones, but I'm not your Ianto.”
Jack turns round slowly, heart pounding. Needing to know, but still afraid at what he'll find.
The pain and sorrow in this Ianto's eyes is clear as they, just for a moment, meet Jack's. Then he looks away, adding sadly, “Just the same as you're not my Jack.”
He's right. Jack can tell that straight away. As while there are similarities between this Ianto and his there are obvious differences as well. This Ianto is a little older, and looks thinner and more careworn than his ever did, even in the immediate aftermath of Lisa's death.
His suit fits badly, although Jack suspects that is because he's lost weight since he bought it. The obviously heavy, and improvised rig holding a variety of power cells that he's wearing over it doesn't do much for its fit either.
The power cells, some of designs that Jack recognises and some that he doesn't, have been daisy-chained together with surge protectors and circuit breakers ingeniously linked in. There's probably enough energy there to power a small city for a few weeks. It's certainly far more than is needed simply for teleportation, or even for time travel, unless you're travelling millennia in a single jump without the benefit of the Doctor's help.
The only possibility that Jack can think of is inter-dimensional travel. However, that shouldn't be possible, not any more, the Doctor had been quite clear on the matter to him after he'd returned Rose to what is now her world; the window for travel between parallel worlds was closed. He'd not questioned it; he wonders now if he should have, even though it's doubtful he would have been told any more even if he had.
Bitterness that he'd never thought he'd feel towards the Doctor wells up fuelled by grief, as he's suddenly sure that the Doctor wouldn't have trusted him with that kind of information anyway, not if his attitude towards allowing him to have a functional teleport was anything to go by.
A teleport that could have saved so many lives. He could have saved Owen, got Tosh to a hospital, Tosh would have worked out the 456's frequency with ease and nobody would have died. Closing his eyes, Jack lets misery wash over him.
“Are you all right?” Ianto asks, sounding concerned as he gestures at the bruise on Jack's face from where he'd collided with the pavement outside the bar.
“Yeah,” Jack replies, opening his eyes, although he's uncertain if he actually is. Physically he knows he is, that he always will be, but emotionally and mentally he can't even begin to say, not any more.
“You lost him, didn't you?” Ianto says softly, putting a hand on Jack's arm.
Jack nods, unable for a moment to speak. The grief is still too raw, and having this Ianto so close to him is doing nothing to help.
“I'm sorry.” He gives Jack's arm a small squeeze.
An awkward silence follows, with neither knowing what to say.
“This isn't Earth, is it?” Ianto asks, after a moment, looking up at the sky. A sky which is so lit up with light pollution that only the brightest of stars and the planet's three moons are visible through the gaps in the rain clouds.
“No,” Jack replies, grateful that Ianto has changed the subject and hasn't asked him how his counter part in this world died. Thinking for a moment, Jack turns and points to the left of the smallest of the moons. “Earth's about eighty light years that way.”
“Oh.” Ianto sounds surprised, as if he hadn't considered the possibility that he would materialise anywhere other than Earth.
Frowning at the patch of sky that Jack has pointed to, Ianto pushes up his sleeve to reveal a vortex manipulator, similar in design to Jack's.
“You're a Time Agent?” Jack asks, surprised. He knows that there are likely to be differences, possibly very big differences, between a person from a parallel worlds and the same person from his own. But Ianto as a Time Agent isn't a difference he would have thought of.
“No. It was Jack's.” Ianto's voice is tight from emotions barely kept in check as opens its cover. Not giving Jack the opportunity to ask why the Jack in his world no longer wanted or needed it, Ianto asks, “The Earth is still there, isn't it?”
“Where else would it be?” Jack replies, wondering if the now almost faded alcohol in his system is making him misunderstand Ianto's question.
“Lost, wandering through dead space. The planets were all pulled out of alignment last year,” Ianto says distractedly as he presses a couple of buttons on the vortex manipulator. “You should know this. I doubt your Earth escaped.”
Jack shakes his head. “It didn't. But the Doctor fixed it.”
“Different world, same blind faith,” Ianto says bitterly, accessing the coordinates and data about where he is.
“What do you mean?” Jack asks, not happy with Ianto's tone of voice.
“I mean my Earth never got put back into its proper orbit. My world lost its Doctor years ago.”
“He's dead?” Jack asks, shocked. Even though it's not his Doctor it's still hard to hear. It also makes him worry about why the Doctor didn't come to help.
“He turned his back on us,” Ianto replies a little distractedly as he tries to make sense of the readings on the modified vortex manipulator. “Thought we were causing too much trouble, that we'd cost him too much.”
“He wouldn't.” Jack hates the doubt in his voice, but after what happened with the 456 there have been times that he's had a hard time convincing himself of it. Rationally he knows that he Doctor can't be everywhere, can't always be the one to save the planet, but it's hard being rational when you've lost everything, and time doesn't seem to be making it any easier.
Ianto laughs humourlessly. “You really believe that?”
“I know it.” Jack realises that despite everything he really does still believe in the Doctor, knows that if the Doctor had been able to help he would have. He just hopes that there isn't a reason beyond he just didn't get the messages; he's not sure he could deal with losing the Doctor as well, not with everything else that has happened.
“He's a lucky man to have a friend like you. I hope he realises it,” Ianto says grudgingly.
But before Jack can ask any further questions a light begins to flash on one of the power cells.
"No," Ianto says mostly to himself. Closing the vortex manipulator, he flicks a switch on the surge protector nearest the flashing power cell. “No, you don't. Not now."
The light goes out for a moment, before coming back on brighter than before. Ianto's eyes widen, scared as he flicks the switch again. This time there is no change, the light continuing to flash, the pulses of light becoming faster and faster.
It's one of the power cells that Jack doesn't recognise the design of, but given Ianto's obvious concern, he's sure that it's a overload warning light. "Ianto, is there anything I can do?"
Ianto ignores him, looking quickly around at the densely packed buildings, trying to come to a decision. Then, with an expression that manages to be both scared and resigned at the same time, he takes hold of the wires connecting the power cell and pulls.
The circuit breaks with a burst of escaping energy that knocks them both off their feet with the force of the release.
Part 2.
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And now I'm off to start reading your story :)
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I don't suppose you know of any where that would host pdfs for longer?
edit: I've uploaded the PDF again, I'm using google docs to host it now, so hopefully the link will stay up, as I log on to google most days.
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And I'm sorry, but I don't know which host lets pdf files stay for longer. An alternative would be to send the pdf on request via mail. I think "jolinarjackson" does it this way ...