Chapter One - Discovery

Ianto Jones was exhausted, upset, and ready to break.

Those words—You all think it's cold and lonely out there, but it's not, not for me and I would—resonated throughout the Hub, choking the air with tension. Ianto knew the others felt it too, like a kick in the gut that sucked all their breath away. Owen looked anywhere but at Jack and Gwen, his face a mixture of pissed off and annoyed. Tosh glanced at Ianto, eyes wide and filled with hurt.

To a point, he understood Jack's words, though they still bothered him; they would all miss a valued team member, and Ianto didn't kid himself that Gwen meant more to Jack than the rest of them. No, it was Gwen's words that stung more. And even then, he also understood her threat to leave, because there had been a time when he would have left Torchwood without looking back as well—several times, in fact. No, it was, as usual, her callous, cruel dismissal of the rest of the team, of their lives and their feelings—or perceived lack of both—that irritated and angered him more.

He was already on edge from everything they'd been through: bringing in Rhys, heading out to the warehouse in secret, getting captured, tied up, and almost killed. The adrenaline rush that came with taking out the remaining men in the warehouse had left him exhausted, almost too much to begin the incineration of the evidence. But he had sent the others ahead, forced himself to summon as much power as he could, and burned the warehouse down to the ground in as controlled a burn as he could manage. Tosh had run interference so that the fire department did not arrive to put it out before all the evidence was destroyed; unfortunately she had not been able to stop Jack from returning to the scene and finally finding out Ianto's secret.

The look on Jack's face as Ianto had stood within the swirling clouds of flame and ash, letting it surround him like a blanket, was one Ianto would never forget: shock, followed by fear, anger, and hurt. He hadn't been able to endure it for long and had turned away from Jack, raising his hand and accelerating the burn to a blistering, crackling end with a single, concentrated thought that all but drained him.

When he had stepped out of the smoke, the warehouse now nothing but a charred skeleton, Jack had simply stared at him before abruptly turning to leave. Ianto had seen the quiver of anger in Jack's chin, however, and knew he'd made a tremendous mistake. He should have told Jack earlier, should have done the burn the normal way, should have…should have…

But he hadn't, and it was likely all over now. There would be consequences, not only to his budding but undefined relationship with Jack, but quite likely to his career and possibly his life as well. This was still Torchwood, after all, and he'd messed up almost as badly as he had a year ago with Lisa, and possibly worse. If he'd escaped both the Retcon and bullet last time, he wasn't sure he would now. They'd been silent during the ride back to the Hub, arriving just as Owen was finishing with Rhys.

Of course Gwen didn't want to Retcon Rhys. Of course she stood up to Jack. Of course Jack gave in. Gwen's words hurt because she accused them of having no one that they cared about, of not being able to understand what she went through when she kept secrets or watched her fiancé walk into danger. She assumed it was cold and lonely for them all, but it wasn't like that for Ianto. He cared more than he wanted to admit for the small team who had become his family—and even more so for Jack, though that was definitely never coming up in conversation— and now he was more scared than ever that he would loose them all.

Jack's words hurt for completely different reasons, though they were reasons Ianto had grown resigned to months ago and tried to set aside with everything else he was feeling about Jack.

Gwen stormed out, while Jack turned away and stalked back into his office. He grabbed a bottle of water from Ianto with a look of barely controlled anger and pain, though Ianto wasn't sure which was directed at him and which at Gwen. "We need to talk."

"Yes, sir," Ianto replied, his voice equally low. Jack narrowed his eyes at the use of the formal address.

"Later. Right now, get yourself looked at," he said, his voice slightly softer. He did not glance at Ianto, but continued to his desk, sat down, and turned on the CCTV feeds. Ianto leaned against the door, running his hand through his hair as he finished the drink he'd poured earlier to calm his nerves.

Glancing back at Jack and knowing it was pointless to stay while Jack brooded, Ianto walked out, setting the empty glass next to his computer. "I'll be downstairs," he said, and left without waiting for any response from the others. If the looks they had given him were any indication, he couldn't handle Tosh's pity or Owen's righteous anger. He had his own miasma of feelings to deal with.

He thought he would go to the archives and busy himself with whatever needed to be done there, including writing up the day's unfortunate end, but instead his feet carried him farther and farther into the depths of the Hub as his mind wandered to darker and darker places. He was upset with Jack, he was furious with Gwen, and he was angry at himself.

He hated keeping secrets from Jack and the team again, but he'd found it harder and harder to say anything the longer he kept his strange ability with fire to himself. When Jack had come back from his time with the Doctor, Ianto had been too worried about their new relationship to say anything. He had once again he found himself hiding something from Jack, though this time he wanted to tell him, but couldn't find the words. Rarely using his power didn't help; the guilt remained. The logical part of his mind believed Jack would be accepting and understanding, but the emotional part of his heart feared losing his job, his life, and Jack.

Yet now the choice had been taken from him, and Jack knew about him. Again. Anxiety for his future and resentment over Gwen's words as well as Jack's response to them fueled his steps. His anger prompted him to continue even when he did not recognize where he was. He didn't care; he needed to get away. He felt an awful pressure building within him, the need to lash out and let go of his feelings, somehow, somewhere. Almost running down the dank stone corridors, Ianto longed to scream out his frustration, until he burst around a corner and found himself in a large chamber he had never seen before and stood gasping at the unexpected sight.

It was easily twice as big as the main part of the Hub, a cavern beneath the cliffs that smelled strongly of the sea. It was cold and empty, dark and damp and utterly bleak. It was also perfect, exactly what he needed, and Ianto felt his lips curl into a sneer as he strode into the center of the space and glanced around, feeling the power build within him in spite of his fatigue from the earlier burn at the warehouse.

Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and let loose his power. He could feel the heat radiate around him as flames sprang up throughout the cavern, and he let it kiss and caress him, knowing it would not hurt him. Eyes closed, he pictured the scene in his mind's eye, raising first one hand and then the other so that the flames danced wildly around him. He thought about throwing his head back and laughing, but settled for turning slowly instead, letting his power flow freely but with a controlled violence. Because he was always in control, and he would not lose it now. Not because of Jack, or Gwen, or any other number of things he had experienced that day.

He was fire, and the fire was him, and it was all he needed at that moment. The flames swirled around him and wrapped him in a blanket of heat and security. It still felt strange, this power he had developed and the even stranger ability of his body to withstand it. It had slowly become more familiar and less frightening, and he embraced it fully now, replacing the cold feeling in his heart with the warmth of the flames around him.

That was how Jack found him, arms splayed out beside him as fire danced along the edges of the cavern and threw shadows into sharp relief along the walls. Ianto brought the flames down as soon as he sensed Jack's presence, though he did not douse them completely.

"So that really was you at the abbatoir," Jack said softly, walking slowly into the center of the circle where Ianto stood alone with his powers still twinkling around them. "Can you turn it on and off?"

Ianto opened his eyes, met Jack's impassive gaze, and raised his hand, sending the flames racing toward the ceiling of the cavern. He noticed Jack's tiny twitch and sighed sadly as he glanced away. Jack was scared—scared of him, Ianto Jones! How utterly ridiculous. He brought the flames back down again so that they were bathed in a steady orange glow.

"Thanks. It was getting a bit hot in here." Jack came closer, hands tucked into his pockets. Ianto folded arms his over his chest, not caring what message his body language sent. He was scared and angry, and he wanted Jack to know it without having to spell it out.

"Was there something you needed, sir?" he asked stiffly, reverting to formality and hoping it stung. Jack merely nodded.

"I said we'd talk later," he replied. "Now's as good a time as any."

Ianto cocked an eyebrow. "Not going to follow Gwen on the CCTV and brood all night?"

Again Jack's jaw twitched at the verbal blow, and he crossed his arms over his chest, mirroring Ianto's defensive posture. "Nope. Thought I'd come see what the hell was going on with the rest of my team. One threatened to leave, one cussed me out upstairs, one is giving me the cold shoulder, and one is down here blowing up an old smuggler's cave."

Ianto glanced around, curious in spite of himself. "Is that what it was?" he asked.

"Most likely." Jack shrugged. "Torchwood thought about using it for something, but it's awfully dark and cold down here, so we always left it for another day."

Ianto was silent. "I wasn't blowing it up," he said. Jack raised an eyebrow.

"Could have fooled me," Jack murmured. Ianto had to bite back the reply of, "Already did, sir," knowing that it would only make things far, far worse.

Jack stepped cautiously next to Ianto, hands now tucked into his pockets as he gazed around the cavern, small flames dancing in the shadows. "So, more secrets then?" When Ianto simply inclined his head, Jack sighed, sounding disappointed. "Always more secrets."

"It's Torchwood, sir," Ianto replied. "We all have them." He did not look at Jack, did not want to look at the man next to him. Something inside him was both terrified and furious; it was as if all the fear and anxiety he'd bottled up for so many months was threatening to burst from him. And that felt almost exhilarating, to finally be able to let go of it.

"And what do you suppose Torchwood would do with something like this?" Jack murmured. Ianto whirled on him.

"You're Torchwood, so what do you plan to do?"

Jack didn't flinch in the face of Ianto's harsh words. In fact, he raised an eyebrow as he replied. "That depends. What do you want me to do?"

Ianto was silent as he considered his answer, but he did not have one. He had thought about this moment so many times, the day that Jack found out about him, but he had never thought past the confrontation to the inevitable consequences, too awful to contemplate. "I don't know," he answered honestly, then shook his head with a bitter laugh. "It doesn't matter."

"Why not?" asked Jack, pouncing on the opening immediately. "Why doesn't it matter?"

"Because you'll do what you have to do," Ianto said. "The right thing to do."

He could feel rather than see Jack nodding next to him. "You could stop me, of course."

Ianto stepped back, surprised. "What?"

Jack answered with a feral grin. "You can stop almost anything now, I imagine. Raise your hand and poof! Problem solved with a burst of flame and a puff of smoke."

"No," Ianto whispered, turning away. "It's not like that. I'm not like that…" He trailed off, glancing down at his hands. Is that what Jack thought of him already? That Ianto was a violent psychopath? The thought hurt more than anything and reignited his resentment. He had hoped Jack would react with understanding, not condemnation.

"You're not what?" Jack asked, breathing his words quietly behind him. "You're not a fire-breathing monster? A genetic aberration?" He paused and whispered right into Ianto's ear. "A freak of nature?"

Ianto gasped as he moved back and turned to face Jack. "I'm not a monster!" he snapped. "And if I am a freak of nature, I'd expect you of all people to understand."

"I don't shoot fire from my palms," Jack returned calmly, barely catching his balance.

"Neither do I!" Ianto shouted. "I can create it, control it, manipulate it. I don't breathe it or shoot it from my fingertips."

"Still freaky," said Jack, casual air so infuriating Ianto couldn't help but lash out. He pushed Jack away from him as hard as he could, tempted to draw back and punch him, his hand balling into a fist at his side.

"You're not one to talk!" he ground out, then turned and began pacing, his breathing quick with fury. He let the flames around him flicker, an outlet for his feelings, hoping to rattle Jack.

"You're right, I'm not," said Jack, and his voice had gone very quiet. "I do understand. Which is why you should have told me."

Ianto turned wide eyes on Jack. "Told you? Told you I could control fire with my mind, that I could manipulate it and use it to destroy things, to hurt people?"

"Do you?" asked Jack.

"Do I what?"

"Do you hurt people?"

"I try not to."

"But have you?"

"No! Only myself."

"Good." Ianto glanced up in shock again, but Jack shook his head, his eyes sliding shut. "I didn't mean it that way. I'm glad you haven't hurt anyone because I know what that would do to you."

Ianto turned away and sighed. "I've worked very hard to learn how to control it, Jack. But I won't be used as a weapon. It's wrong. I'm wrong."

Jack sauntered in front of Ianto, raising an eyebrow at the defiant look Ianto held fast against the overwhelming nearness of Jack's personality. "Is that why you didn't tell me, then? Because you thought I'd use you as a weapon?"

"I…I don't know. Maybe." Ianto waved away the ridiculous charge, but was then left having to supply an answer and found himself without words. Now that he had said it out loud, he found it was true. He was well aware of how ruthless Jack could be at times. The silence seemed to echo in the empty cavern.

"Show me."

Ianto let his head fall to his chest. "No."

"Show me what you can do," Jack pressed. "I need to know."

"Know what?" Ianto knew the answer, but asked anyway.

"I need to know if you are a danger to team."

Ianto glanced sideways and laughed bitterly. "Of course I'm a danger, Jack. I can burn a warehouse to the ground by thinking about it."

"Can you really control it?"

"Yes."

"Then show me."

"I'm not a dog and pony show either!" Ianto was tempted to turn and shove Jack away again, but found that exhaustion was starting to take its toll once more. "I don't enjoy being like this, Jack. It's terrifying. I just want to be normal."

"Is that why you didn't tell me then?"

"Wait—what?"

"Is that why you didn't tell me?" Jack repeated, enunciating his words carefully. "Because you're afraid of it?"

Ianto stared at Jack as if he had grown a second head. "Of course I'm afraid of it! I didn't ask for this, but somehow, it happened. So I'm dealing with it the best that I can, on my own." He waved his hand over the cavern, killing all the flames but one near the door. Then he strode away. "I'm not talking about this anymore."

"Ianto!" Jack called, reaching out to grab his hand. "What are you afraid of?"

"What do you think, Jack?" Ianto hissed, shaking off Jack's hold.

"I think you're afraid of yourself," Jack said softly. "Of what you can do, of what others will think. But more than that you're afraid of…" He trailed off, studying Ianto's face carefully. "You're afraid of being used. Not only as a weapon, but in other ways as well. You're afraid of the responsibility." Ianto felt his eyes widen in spite of his attempt to not react to anything Jack might say. Jack did not smile, but nodded his head. "You're afraid that this will become an obligation for you, a tool for Torchwood to use as not only as a weapon, but as protection as well. And you don't want to fail, because that terrifies you more than anything."

"Fuck you, Jack," Ianto snapped, but heard the lack of real emotion. Jack was exactly right: Ianto did not want to be responsible for the team's safety because of his power. He could deal with being the one who took care of them at the Hub and had their backs as one of the team in the field. He could not handle it if he tried to protect them—or was ordered to—with his powers and failed. Which was exactly why he kept it to himself, feeling guilty for not only keeping another secret but ashamed for not using his power to help.

As if he were some sort of superhero; he wasn't and never would be.

A bitter laugh escaped his lips and he let his head fall to his chest again. "I'm not a weapon and I'm not a shield," he murmured. "I don't know what I am, but I won't be used to hurt others and I can't be used to save them either. I'm not a hero, Jack."

Jack grabbed him by the shoulders. "I would never ask you to hurt someone!" he insisted, practically shaking Ianto and forcing him to meet Jack's eyes. "And I won't ask you to use it to protect us. It's not like you can stop a rampaging Weevil with it."

Ianto glanced upward and shrugged. "If I set it on fire, I suppose." He took a deep breath and met Jack's eyes. "But I won't do that, Jack. Not even to a Weevil."

Jack moved as if he wanted to embrace Ianto, but stopped when Ianto stiffened. Instead, Jack's hand came up to Ianto's shoulder. "I wouldn't ask you to do that to any living creature," he said softly. "I know what it would do to you on the inside."

"Then you know why I can't tell the others," Ianto whispered. "They'll expect me to do something, to stop things, to save them. I can't do that, Jack. I won't do that—"

This time Jack did pull Ianto into an embrace, and in order to stop the slightly hysterical feelings bubbling within him, Ianto let himself accept Jack's arms, breathing quickly, but refusing to break down.

"I won't say anything," Jack whispered, and Ianto was surprised to hear Jack's voice crack. He pulled back to gaze into Jack's eyes with a questioning look, and Jack chuckled before he cleared his throat. "Sorry. It's just that…I wish you had told me. I wish you felt like you could tell me."

"Jack." Ianto literally put a hand on Jack's chest to stop him from hunching over with guilt. "I didn't keep it from you to hurt you."

"I know," Jack said, nodding with a sad smile. "But I still wish you could talk to me, that's all."

Ianto studied him for several moments before offering a small shrug. "We're not like that, Jack. We don't tell each other things very often, do we?" He knew he was treading in shallow water, his feelings about the confrontation with Gwen earlier clouding his thoughts at that moment, minimizing his relationship with Jack to avoid being hurt. Yet it was true: he and Jack had a more regular relationship now, and at times it even felt like they were growing closer, but they weren't close enough to share real feelings, deep feelings. Secrets. Hell, Ianto still knew very little about Jack's time away with the Doctor. Ianto had feared losing Jack if his secret were discovered, but it occurred to him now that maybe he had kept his secret because Jack kept his own. Why share his life when Jack didn't share his? The realization filled him with shame, but also bitterness. Why couldn't they be more normal? Why were things always so complicated?

Jack seemed to have gone through a similar thought process. He closed his eyes, hands in his pockets as he hung his head. "I know," he said softly. "My fault again. And I'm guessing that's another reason why you didn't tell me, isn't it?" He glanced up with a crooked grin.

"Not consciously," Ianto admitted. "But I suppose knowing how much you hold back makes me less enthusiastic about saying anything." He took a deep breath. "It's who we are, Jack. You're a time traveling immortal with over a century of secrets. I'm a fire starting mortal with my own fair share of emotional baggage. It's a wonder we've made it this far."

Jack frowned at that last. "I'd like to think we're more than that, together."

And there it was, the one thing Ianto had wanted to avoid more than anything: the subject of them. "More than what, Jack? We sleep together, we don't talk about our feelings afterwards. It is what it is. And now that you know about this, I have no idea what's going to happen. Personally or professionally." He didn't really think Jack would turn him in, or lock him up, or even stop sleeping with him, but it would certainly change something, wouldn't it?

Jack was still frowning. "Can we sit down somewhere? Maybe start a little campfire, conjure up some marshmellows?" He raised his eyebrows hopefully, and Ianto rolled his eyes. He glanced around, found a suitable spot, and sat down. Raising his hand, a small series of flames burst into being, hovering above the stone of the cavern floor. Jack sat next to him, gazing into the fire.

And they talked.

Author's Note
Utterly self-indulgent, but hopefully entertaining. I've been sitting on this for ages, but I think it was borne of reading one too many "Ianto-has-a-big-secret" stories and then plotting with Taamar to write my own. It's five chapters short and complete, so do enjoy!