Title: Bruised ego
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Jack
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 1,029 words
Content notes: None
Author notes: Written for Challenge 503 - Sock
Summary: Jack has well and truly earned the knuckle sandwich to his face.


Jack's lip was stinging like crazy. He'd been so preoccupied with being mad and having to deal with the unfolding crisis that he'd scarcely even noticed it until everything was finally over and he had a moment to himself.

The rest of the team were still busy cleaning up downstairs and disposing of the remnants of all the cyberman technology, but they knew what they were doing and didn't need him. They'd done enough dismantling and destroying of that stuff after the fall of Canary Wharf. They knew how important it was that not so much as a single bolt survive the aftermath. All of it needed to be burned and melted down, then crushed to a powder. Only then could he be sure that the cybermen would never again regain a foothold here on Earth.

He turned his head away from the poor reflection in the window overlooking the mess and chaos left behind and headed up the stairs to use the bathrooms. When he got there and stood in front of a real mirror he finally saw why his lip hurt as much as it did. It was dribbling a small line of nearly black blood, gravity pulling it ever downward before it hardened on his chin. He twisted on the taps and ran the cold water, cupping it in both hands and bringing it to his face to wash away the blood. That made it sting even more.

He raised his head to study the much cleaner reflection, now only dripping water instead of blood.
The split in his lip was bad, even with the blood washed away. He'd been socked in the face before – dozens of times. Not always deservedly, but a black eye or a bruised jaw was one thing. Breaking the skin was something else entirely. Ianto had really done a number on him. He'd never seen Ianto mad before. Mildly annoyed even a little aggressively frustrated once, but never mad.

He lensed closer to the mirror and fingered the open wound. It needed two stitches but Jack didn't feel like asking Owen to help him out. He'd fix it himself. Later.

Ianto had one hell of a right hook on him. Properly Welsh Valleys rugby club style. He was way beyond pissed even if he was too stupid to realise the situation they were in. It probably hadn’t even been his best effort on account of the sudden rage. With his back put into it, he might have knocked out a few teeth as well. Jack hoped he wouldn't have to find out and that round two wasn’t heading his way. He didn’t think so. All the fight had left Ianto now. All he had left was grief.

Jack couldn't exactly blame him for being that mad. Well, only if you believed that your girlfriend had just been locked in and attacked by a prehistoric creature. If you saw the reality of the situation – an alien threat that had the ability to spread worldwide in a matter of days – then it was a different matter altogether.

Jack had sent Myfanwy in to face off with the metal monster, both to facilitate sufficient distraction for them to be able to escape in the brief window Tosh had made for them, but also to inflict as much damage on the cyberman as possible. Let it pick on something bigger than it. Jack hadn't yet seen Myfanwy since the attack, holed up in her nest up in the roof of the hub. He hoped that she was okay and not badly hurt. He didn't like using any of his team as cannon fodder, not even their pet pteranodon, but sometimes there was no choice. He'd tried to put himself between the cyberman and his team, and that had bought them only seconds at most.

The five of them were only alive right now because of the decisions Jack had made in the heat of the moment. He supposed that if it meant having a split lip and having the person he considered most loyal turn on him and throw a punch at him, then that was the price to be paid. He didn't expect an apology for it. He might have thrown one back if the rest of the team hadn't held him back. Stupidity needed to be dealt with swiftly or else everyone could end up dead.

And Ianto was stupid. Stupid to think that he could undo a cyberman conversion. Hadn't he seen enough of it during the death and destruction at Canary Wharf? He was lucky to be alive at all. He should have been rounded up and retconned back to 2003 like the rest of them. The cyberman never would have survived without his intervention. Then again, could it have convinced someone else to save it if Ianto hadn’t intervened? Someone who perhaps wasn't Torchwood? It might have repaired itself in secret, slowly building an army without their knowledge. As loath as he was to admit it, perhaps Ianto having brought it here was actually a good thing. Strange thing to think.

Jack pressed at the cut again, dabbing it gently with paper towel. It would take time to heal. Things like this always did. Quicker than the average human perhaps, but it wasn't the same as being dead. He'd have to live with it for now, just as he'd have to live with whatever decision he made next. Would Ianto stay or go? Did Jack want him here? Of course he did. Torchwood was a job for life. The problem was that for most, that was a short period of time. Shorter than any of them deserved. Jack would take a punch to the face every single day if he thought it would keep the people he cared about close.

Maybe when this was all over and the dust finally settled, Ianto would be unable to forgive him and leave forever. That would be a punch to the gut ten times worse. For better or worse, Jack had come to love him in his own way, and not even swinging fists or the ghosts of girlfriends past could change that.