Blurred Lines

Word Count: ~ 3.800

Summary: Jack's not sure what's real anymore. He finds himself doing the one thing he swore he wouldn't do to Ianto and suddenly everything he heard while he was in Hell makes sense.

Characters: Jack Harkness, Ianto Jones, Gwen Cooper

Pairing: Jack/Ianto, Jack/Skip (hinted), Jack/others (hinted), Gwen/Rhys (hinted)

Rating: R

Spoiler: Countrycide, Kiss Kiss Bang Bang, Adam / Audio Book: In The Shadows

Setting: after Adam

Warnings: Suicide, partner betrayal, language

Author's Note: Written for redisourcolor challenge #25: Sin. It made me think of In The Shadows, so I sat down and listened to it again and I noticed that it takes place immediately before Adam, and so, this was born. I used the words naughty, transform and belief and the phrase Even underground, [s/he] can tell it's been raining.

Beta: Eleanor Harkness-Jones and larsinger29, thank you both!

Disclaimer: I'm not making money with this fanfic. The tv-show Torchwood and the characters appearing within it belong to their producers and creators. Any similarities to living or dead persons are purely coincidental and not intended.

xxx

A shot rings out.

Jack screams. It's an inarticulate sound, not a name, not even a real word, just desperation and misery and disbelief. He falls to his knees beside Ianto, taking the gun from his slack fingers and throwing it away. He doesn't know where to touch, there is so much blood. His hands tremble when they finally settle on framing Ianto's expressionless face. "No, no, no, why did you do that?" Jack whimpers, pressing his hand against the gaping wound in Ianto's temple. Blood wells up between his fingers, still warm. It's impossible to grasp, impossible to let go of the belief that this is just a dream. But it's real. Ianto had called Jack down into the boardroom to show him something related to the increase in Weevil population over the last few months and then just… shot himself. Jack screams again, yells for help, cradling Ianto against him and huddling down against the wall with his lifeless body. His hands leave bloody stains on Ianto's suit jacket, on the carpet, and hysterical laughter bubbles up when Jack remembers how Ianto admonished him once for spilling coffee down here. What he wouldn't give for Ianto to complain…

He hears footsteps approach over the soft carpet and looks up at Gwen who is staring down at him with an unreadable expression.

"He shot himself," Jack says. "He sh…" His words drown in a sob.

Gwen crouches down and her fingers stroke through Ianto's blood-matted hair. "It was only a matter of time."

Jack's head jerks up in horror. "What?"

"Adultery," Gwen spits.

Someone says, "Do you really think I didn't know?" Jack follows the familiar voice and sees Ianto sitting on the boardroom table, swinging his legs. "I'm not that stupid. The late nights when I called you and you weren't at the Hub like you said you would be. I found the phone numbers." He laughs and then changes, transforms… into John Hart. "You naughty boy. You didn't deserve him."

Jack feels winded. He presses Ianto's body against his chest. "No," he whispers. "No."

Gwen smiles gently and cups Jack's cheek, her skin cold as ice. "Kind of ironic – you blaming me for cheating on Rhys but being just as bad, just as much a sinner."

Jack raises his eyes back to look at John and realizes that he's changed again – it's Ianto, still swinging his legs. He answers Jack's pleading stare with a giggle. "You always forget about the little people, don't you, Jack?"

"Stop it," Jack whispers.

Gwen asks, "Why? Can't you stand the thought of killing Ianto?"

"I didn't kill him!" Jack yells, cradling Ianto's body protectively against his chest.

Gwen doesn't even flinch and Ianto giggles some more, then he says, "You didn't?" He points down at Jack's hands. "Then why are you holding the gun?"

Jack looks down and in his grasp, he holds the gun he'd flung across the room. The metal is blood-smeared and hot from being fired. "I didn't…," he whispers. "I didn't."

He wakes up. Still breathing heavily, fighting down nausea, he gets his bearings. Night, orange street lamps throwing shadows at the curtains, Ianto's bedroom, Ianto next to him. Alive, breathing…

"Jack?" Ianto asks sleepily and curls against him. "Alright?"

Jack looks down at him, at his face that's sleep-relaxed and open. He forces a shaky smile. "Yes. Yes. Just… I was just …" He sighs. "Just dreaming. I need a glass of water." He kisses Ianto's forehead and leaves the bed, leaving Ianto behind to fall back to sleep.

In the living room, he drops onto the sofa. It's been a week since he'd gone to Hell, a little less since they'd all lost 48 hours of their memories. Initially, he'd been fine after the incident with the Lucifer's. Whatever had happened that had forced them all to erase their memories had been bad enough, though, that the experiences he'd had in Hell and that he'd so carefully stashed away in a box within hours of Ianto bringing him back kept resurfacing now. And with them, guilt crashes into Jack almost every single time he even looks at Ianto. Hell had shown him the worst things that could happen and Ianto finding out that Jack had, indeed, slept with others during their rather short series of dates since Jack's return a few months ago had taken its well-deserved front-row place. The Ianto in Hell hadn't cared. Jack knows that the Ianto sleeping soundly in his bed certainly does. The words haven't been uttered, yet, but Jack knows that Ianto loves him. He loves him and trusts him; he never doubts Jack's fidelity.

And that is why it has to stop. He can't do this to Ianto anymore. And he will stop, he promises himself, and be the man Ianto deserves.

He will stop and Ianto – the real Ianto – will never need to know.

xxx

Gwen steps into Jack's office just when he's thinking about sending everyone home for the day. "Look what I found," she says with a giggle and holds up a note with a phone number on it. The name Skip is scrawled above the digits.

"A secret admirer?" Jack asks with a teasing grin.

"Your secret admirer," Gwen replies and lets the piece of paper flutter onto Jack's desk.

Jack frowns, not remembering the name. "Skip?"

"Barman at the Priory? You told him to give me his number 'cause he's cute? He took you seriously. I just found it in my handbag." She rolls her eyes. "And lucky, too, since Rhys used to go through my bag to find my mints sometimes. Imagine what would have happened if he'd found that." She winks at him. "So… will you call him?"

It's obvious she's not serious about it, but the question stabs into Jack viciously. He forces a smile. "Sure. Ianto and I always wanted to try a threesome."

Gwen laughs and leaves.

Jack picks up the note and stares at it, then he stretches a bit to reach the bin. And he hesitates. Oh, Gods, what is he doing? Even thinking about it after his resolution the night before proves to him just how weak he is. His hand trembles and two fingers let go of the note, the rest still holding on. It's so reassuring to know that there are still people who can't see how deeply scarred he really is. People who only see him like he used to be when he was young: handsome, funny, charming … they don't see him the way he feels so often lately, the way his team and especially Ianto see him sometimes: tired of life, broken and scared …

He doesn't believe in fate but he lets it decide what to do… just this one time.

If Ianto comes in now, he will drop it in the bin.

He looks at the door, but no Ianto.

If anybody comes in now…

…Nobody does.

Slowly, Jack pulls his hand back and the note takes up residence in his trouser pocket. It doesn't mean that he will call. It doesn't mean anything at all.

xxx

Years ago, after Alex had killed everybody Jack had cared about and left him to clean up the mess and pick up the pieces, he'd felt alone and numb. Until he drove past a gay night club in the city centre one late evening. Everyone entering that club just looked so alive and happy and Jack had wanted to be like them. Nobody had waited for him back at the Hub, so he'd just parked the car and followed his instincts. It had helped him back then.

So when Jack drove by that club one night after his return from the year that never was – a sedated Weevil in the boot and memories of torture on his mind – he decided to go inside, just to have a look and a bit of fun flirting. He hadn't even thought of having a shag. But after flirting came kissing and groping and then they fucked right there in the backroom. Maybe it was because the other guy hadn't been as careful with Jack as Ianto used to be those days – the tales about the year that never was and the things the Master had done to Jack seemed to have left a permanent impression on Ianto's mind, a need to protect. Or maybe it was because that guy Jack didn't even remember the name of just didn't know him. There was no history between them, no reason to think about more than sex. Maybe it was because sometimes, just sometimes, being with Ianto scared him. Because he would lose Ianto one day, because he was afraid of hurting him, because he was afraid that Ianto would hurt him. Or maybe it was a mix of all the above. Jack frankly couldn't say. It just happened and then it was over. A minute later, he felt guilty; an hour later, he was home and told Ianto that he'd had to work late… a week later and he realized that he got away with it. Just like that. And even though he promised himself it wouldn't happen again, it had and then it had again. And now…

Jack buttons up his shirt and stares at Skip sleeping on the bed in his little bachelor flat filled with cheap furniture and movie posters. And Jack is about to sneak out like the bastard he is.

Sinner.

He closes his eyes and shakes his head. He will go home and Ianto will warm up his dinner and ask him where he was and Jack will say that he hunted a Weevil.

"We haven't been Weevil hunting together in a while," Ianto's voice whispers in his ear and Jack shrugs it off. Where did that memory come from?

He takes his coat and leaves.

xxx

His life feels wrong as if he is just a mere spectator, not in control. He has never felt this way before and it is horrible. Something is happening to him and Jack has no idea, what it is. It feels like his mind is screaming at him from at least three sides.

One side: he is a sinner for cheating on Ianto and deserves to spend eternity in Hell.

Another: everything is alright, isn't it? With Ianto curled up against him and watching the news while Jack pretends to read the paper, everything has to be.

The third: why is he even here? He knows that they came back here for work. He remembers doing the laundry with him and that he helped Ianto with the dishes. It felt perfectly normal just a minute ago but in the blink of an eye, that had changed. Now he feels that he doesn't belong here. He doesn't belong with Ianto. Or anyone else for that matter. He should be with his best friend (the name, he can't remember the name … Aron? Aidan?), unwinding after a hard day of work with a drink… but Ianto is his best friend and he is right here so he can… no, Ianto isn't his best friend. His mind protests the mere thought and he remembers a flash of an unruly mop of hair and a young, serious face and a gentle hand touching his shoulder. "It's me, remember? Ianto was just a shag but that's been over for a while and you're enjoying life as a single. If you need to talk you come to me. You have to remember that, Jack." So what is Jack doing here, playing house with Ianto who – according to his memories – is just a shag he turns to when he's not in the mood to go out and hit the clubs?

Maybe he's starting to lose his mind. Maybe his ordeal in Hell left some damage after all. Maybe Adam – yes, that's his name, Adam – had come too late to the rescue.

He startles from his thoughts when the newspaper rustles and when he looks up from the tiny, printed words, he sees Ianto straddling his lap. Smiling. Carefully taking the paper and folding it up to put it aside. "I was thinking we order in a pizza and watch a movie. Since the Rift's been so quiet all evening… I think we can risk it." He kisses Jack softly and slides closer, his lap on Jack's, touching, and it's so familiar. Maybe he does belong here. Doesn't he?

"I forgive you." Ianto had said that back in Hell. Ianto, not Adam. Ianto had rescued him.

He breaks away from the kiss, turning his head. It's too much. Too much tenderness and love. And his mind screaming at him that it's wrong, wrong, wrong…

Jefferson's voice in his head: "You don't deserve this, for you are a sinner."

Jack stares at Ianto, lets his fingers brush over Ianto's cheek and through his hair. It feels so right. And suddenly Jack remembers kisses and innuendo and candlelight dinners, Ianto blushing when Jack compliments the way his new jeans accentuates his legs, walking down the street hand in hand … Ianto is his lover. Ianto, who would give his life for Jack. And for some insane reason he can't really remember, Jack broke the only rule their relationship has.

Ianto, looking at him from across the table. "We're not just an office shag anymore. We have dates. To me, that implies monogamy."

Jack, shrugging. "Alright."

Before Jack can stop himself, a question breaks out of him. "Why did you forgive me?"

Ianto's smile fades, his eyes become serious. "What?"

"Back in Hell. Why did you forgive me?"

"Because you're a good man." Ianto says the words as if it's nothing new, nothing special, not the most wonderful thing anybody has ever said to him.

Tears gather in Jack's eyes. "But I'm not."

"What brought this on?" Ianto asks.

"I don't know. Something's… not right."

Ianto looks earnest and attentive. "Just tell me what's clear then and we'll take it from there."

There's only one thing Jack knows for sure. His hands grip Ianto's waist, holding him tight. His eyes stare at the wall just above Ianto's shoulder. "There was… that barman yesterday and a waitress last Saturday and… a woman I bumped into when I went to collect Gwen's wedding present… the… guy that Blowfish held hostage, before I gave him Retcon, we-"

"Jack," Ianto interrupts him.

He raises his head to meet Ianto's eyes. Ianto looks scared. Jack's hold on him tightens. "You went to Hell to forgive me and you don't even know what you've forgiven me for. All these people and more… I slept with them."

Ianto stares at him, still scared. "I don't believe you."

"I'm sorry." Jack sees the way Ianto's eyes narrow when he takes this in. Fear turns into disappointment, turns into… anger. Ianto wants to get up, but Jack holds onto him. "Don't…"

"Let go of me," Ianto says, his voice icy. "Let go of me or I swear I will hurt you. And that's the last thing I want right now." His voice breaks. "I love you, you bastard." He struggles out of Jack's hold and vanishes into the kitchen, slamming the door.

xxx

It seems so simple and clear, now that he thought about it. The answer to all this is easy: He's still in Hell. That's why everything seems so wrong, so disconnected. Ianto didn't come for him after all, he didn't forgive him and all this is just some new game to keep Hell entertained. Well, Jack won't play any longer. He smiles. The game is over. He stares up at the ceiling of the Hub. Even underground, he can tell it's been raining. The water in the basin smells like it – fresh and clean and new, like everything he isn't and won't be ever again. This water is the only good and pure thing in this world and that's why he wants to die in it. He turns to lie face-down. Drowning isn't the best way to go, but certainly better than jumping from a building or using up their ammo one headshot after another. And it's fitting, somehow, since this is how he committed suicide the first time he discovered the truth about this world – that it isn't real, that it is Hell and he is a sinner.

The first time is the hardest, then the dying almost becomes an instinct. His first breath brings in the water that causes his next death. He doesn't know how often he dies and revives and he doesn't really care. He just cares that he can't hurt anyone like this, that he was clever enough to stay away from Gwen, Owen and Tosh so that he didn't ruin their lives as well. The burden to have wrecked Ianto's life was heavy enough, too heavy.

And then, it ends. He comes to life with a gasp and no water enters his lungs. He flails and coughs.

"Calm down," someone says.

And then, a woman, "Just do it, Owen."

And everything goes away again.

xxx

When he wakes up, he's dry and warm for the first in what felt like years. He opens his eyes and there is Ianto, sitting on the edge of the couch in the main Hub and looking at him sadly. His eyes seem haunted, tired and are red-rimmed. Jack almost sobs. Hell got bored with watching him kill himself. A new game is on.

Ianto says, "I couldn't believe you. I couldn't believe you would do this to me. And with us losing 48 hours of our memories, I had some inkling that it could have something to do with each other."

"Or maybe that's just who I am," Jack answers, tired of fighting, of trying to say and do the right thing.

"It's not," Ianto snaps. "I know you wouldn't do this to me because I know you. I believe in you." He takes a shuddering breath. "I took anti-Retcon."

Jack tries to sit up, but he still feels so weak and sinks back. His shock, though, stays. "Tell me you didn't."

"I had to find out. I had to know what happened in those two days. And now that I do, I found some answers."

"When did all of this happen?" Jack asks. He sits up, slowly this time, carefully. He doesn't want to play the game Hell forces on him but he doesn't have any other choice now. His concern for Ianto – even a Ianto that's not real – is stronger than everything else. He feels dizzy. "How long was I asleep?"

"We kept you under for four days," Ianto answers.

"What?"

"You drowned yourself!" Ianto yells. "And when you came to after, you kept rambling about being a sinner and Hell… we didn't know what was going on but it was obvious it had something to do with the Lucifer's. We didn't know if you were under some kind of mind control or maybe even losing your mind because of something these things did to you. Gwen took command and decided that we had to find out and for your safety, we all agreed that you should be sedated for a while."

Jack closes his eyes and buries his face in his hands. All of this is too much. He doesn't understand what's going on. The cushion dips when Ianto sits down closer to him and an arm winds itself around Jack's shoulders, pulling him against Ianto's chest, the other hand cradling his face against Ianto's cheek. "You have to believe me that you are not in Hell. I got you out." A kiss drops on his forehead. "And then, only one day later, a being came into the Hub and altered our memories to make it seem as if it was part of our life. His name was Adam. We don't know exactly who or what he was in the end but he messed with our minds. We took Retcon to forget about him which destroyed him. But somehow, whatever the Lucifer's did with you and then Adam and then the ingestion of Retcon messed with your brain chemistry, pulling the experiences you made in Hell back to the forefront of your mind and meddling with how you see things." He sighs. "Owen would be able to explain it better but what it comes down to is that you got stuck with the impressions Hell left on you. It's a bit like PTSD."

Jack squeezes his eyes shut. He wants to believe Ianto – so, so badly. "How do I know this isn't a trick? In Hell, it felt like I was back home for a while and then everything went wrong. I killed Gwen and I lost you and Tosh and Owen died…"

"Sh!" Ianto pulls him closer. "Did Hell confront you with being unfaithful?"

"Yes."

"Is it true?" There's the slightest bit of a hitch in Ianto's voice as if he's scared of the answer.

Jack thinks about it, very carefully, sorting through his memories. "I feel guilty about cheating on you," he finally says. "And I remember the people I did it with… but I can't actually remember sleeping with them."

Ianto heaves a sigh or maybe it's a relieved breath. "Because," Ianto continues, "Adam implanted me with the memory of you sleeping with others, treating me as if I was just a shag. He became your best friend while I was taking every little crumb of affection you threw at me – and there weren't a lot." He chuckles brokenly. "I was pathetic, really. He wanted to keep us apart and it worked."

Jack straightens. Something like hope sparks in his chest. "You think I mixed up those memories – made them reality in my head?"

Ianto nods.

Silence settles between them.

Jack's eyes roam the Hub and he feels like he sees it differently now. It's more real all of a sudden. "I'm not in Hell."

"No," Ianto says. "I forgave you."

And then it hits Jack. "But Skip happened." He looks at Ianto. "I slept with him."

Ianto wipes a hand down his face. "Yes, I know. I know. But you were still under the influence so I guess that doesn't count."

Jack cups Ianto's cheek. "But it does."

Ianto looks at him and Jack doubts that he has ever seen him that exhausted before. The anti-Retcon must have kept him awake, made him relive old memories, painful memories… the battle, Lisa, the cannibals, so much more…

Jack leans in and kisses him softly before he whispers, "You took anti-Retcon because you believed in me."

"We learned the truth about Adam because you believed in me," Ianto answers. "So we're even."

Jack frames Ianto's face with his hands. "You look exhausted."

"I am."

"What time is it?"

"Middle of the night. The others went home. I wanted to be alone with you for this."

Jack leans back on the couch and pulls Ianto with him to lie between his legs. Ianto raises his head from Jack's shoulder to meet his eyes. "I really do, you know? Love you, I mean."

Jack's fingers touch Ianto's jawline, caressing up to his temple and down his cheek. "I know," he answers. He tucks Ianto's head under his chin and sighs deeply. "You went to Hell and back for me." His fingers slide through Ianto's hair and he whispers, "Just know that I would go to Hell and back for you as well."

"I do," Ianto answers and a smile presses against the skin of Jack's neck. "I do know."

END

01/12