Chapter One

Author's Note:

This one is a bit different for me, so keep an open mind. You can read more in my author's notes at the bottom!

"Lovers don't finally meet somewhere, they're in each other all along." ~Rumi

It usually happened during one's teenage years, though it was known to happen to younger children on occasion. The steady presence of one's soul mate slowly emerged, the whisper of another presence tucked into the corner of one's mind. Not thoughts, precisely, but feelings, impressions. When it did happen to younger children, it was sometimes confusing and resulted in various psychiatric issues; more often the child accepted the comforting presence, developing that invisible friend so many children played with when they were young.

For most people, however, the initial psychic bond manifested during those awkward years of teenage transition—no longer a child, not quite an adult, but old enough to understand and accept what was happening. It wasn't illness, or insanity, it was the sign that one's soul mate was out there somewhere, waiting for them. In cases where one soulmate was significantly older than the other, it usually happened when the younger partner was at that age of change, leaving the older partner wondering if perhaps they were one of the few who were not destined to find their soulmate.

It was an odd feeling for Ianto, and from talking to others he was relieved to find that, at least, was normal. He was fourteen, and his teenage emotions were usually all over the place, but one day he found himself experiencing something he didn't often feel—incredible, breathtaking lust. And it wasn't as if he was with a girl when it happened, or even looking at pictures of girls; he was walking home from school when it hit him out of the blue, almost doubling him over. He chalked it up to hormones, had it off when he got home, and forgot about it. Until the next day when he felt a white-hot surge of anger whilst eating an egg sandwich at school, even though the sandwich was quite good compared to the regular lunch service.

He soon realized that these intense feelings were not his own, but those of his soulmate. They had learned about soulmates in school—that awful, awkward class in year five when they learned about puberty and sex—and how the initial impressions could be intense and even overwhelming when they first began to develop. He practiced the techniques they had learned for dealing with the foreign feelings invading their thoughts, sectioning off an area of his mind for the new presence and visualizing mental walls around it. It wasn't perfect, but it kept his own feelings separate.

It grew stronger every day, a steady pulse of all kinds of emotions—joy, love, lust, but also fear, anger, and more than anything, loneliness. His soulmate was lonely, and Ianto wished that the psychic bond was a two-way street, that he could reach out and reassure his soulmate that they weren't alone. Yet it wasn't telepathy, but more of a low-level empathy, and though he tried to go to that place in his mind given to his soulmate and radiate calm when he felt fear, offer comfort when he felt loneliness, he doubted his soulmate would recognize it for what it was.

Instead, his soulmate probably felt Ianto's own conflicted feelings. His difficult relationship with his father and the resentment he felt for his family. His lack of self-confidence with just about everything—his looks, his grades, his life. The shame he felt when he failed, the pressure he felt when he succeeded. And his awakening sexual desires; just because one had a soulmate waiting to meet them, did not mean one had to physically wait for their soulmate. Ianto was well aware that his soulmate had their own powerful lusts and felt no guilt acting on his own.

He began to suspect that his soulmate was male, and continuously wondered about it. Deep down, it didn't bother him, because he was so used to the strong, warm presence in his mind. Physically speaking, he was intrigued, but found that when it came to other men in his life, he simply wasn't interested. At all. It worried him, that maybe he wouldn't be physically attracted to his soulmate either, that maybe there was a mistake. He hoped there wasn't.

The problem with the psychic soulmate bond—the animoré— was that no one knew when they would meet their soulmate; some people never did, and died having never formed the full bond. From what Ianto understood, most people met early in life, rather than later, though there were people who didn't meet one another until well into their fifties or sixties, and Ianto hoped to be retired and surrounded by family by that point in his life. The thought of never meeting his soulmate terrified him; he wanted to know the amazing presence in his mind, that felt so much, so strongly. He decided if he hadn't met them by the time he turned thirty, he would seek them out. Apparently, there was a growing business of people who somehow tracked down soulmates, though many were considered crackpots and frauds.

It wasn't until a few years after his animoré developed that Ianto began having blackouts. He was in university by then, and was able to hide it from everyone but his closest friends. He didn't actually lose consciousness, but went blank, staring and unaware of his surroundings. His roommates thought it might be seizures, but Ianto knew what it was. It was the presence in his mind, disappearing with a snap. Sometimes it was a quick, like a small mental pinch; other times it was like a shock, hard and jolting, stunning him with the ferocity of it. Every time, the presence in his mind disappeared, leaving him feeling empty and alone, until it came back with a flooding gasp, like life returning to the desert.

Ianto had never heard of such a thing, and could find no information on anything similar. He was too afraid to tell anyone the truth for a long time, and hid it as best as he could, even wearing a medical bracelet that identified the episodes for emergency situations (it had happened on the tube, once, and he'd come to only to find paramedics hovering over him. He knew he was perfectly fine, but it had been impossible to explain.) And then he met Lisa.

When someone met their soulmate, they didn't always recognize the connection immediately, particularly if it was early, or simply a weaker bond. There were entire shelves of romance novels where the realization didn't happen until the end of the book, long after the couple had met. Sometimes they were best friends, sometimes they were enemies. Other times they were lovers, enjoying their time together and hoping the bond would grow stronger with their physical connection and reveal itself. In the stories, it always did; in real life, Ianto knew it would never happen with Lisa.

He loved her, fiercely and passionately. And she loved him. They talked about their animoré several times; Lisa did not feel hers as strongly as Ianto, who sometimes felt like he knew so much about his soulmate already. He suspected that she believed it was him; Ianto, however, knew it wasn't her. His soulmate was a man, and his soulmate was lonely, and their presence wavered in and out of Ianto's mind. He sometimes wondered if his soulmate was sick and dying, always at the edge and always coming back. Then he decided his soulmate was probably a traveler, maybe an astronaut, flitting in and out of range. Not that he'd ever heard of such a thing, not when soulmates could live halfway around the world from one another and still sense each other's presence, but it was better than no explanation, and Ianto needed something.

When Lisa started talking about marriage, he finally told her the truth about his so-called seizures and the steady presence in his mind that disappeared and reappeared each time it happened. She was sad at first, disappointed that it wasn't her; they still loved each other, though, and found themselves among those rare couples who stayed together even though they knew they weren't meant for one another. Ianto suspected they were only prolonging the heartbreak, but he wasn't sure what else to do. Life was almost perfect with Lisa: they had good jobs with Torchwood, a nice flat in London, friends and family and everything he'd ever wanted with a soulmate. Why couldn't it be her? He started to resent the presence in his mind, and when it disappeared, he sometimes hoped it wouldn't return.

Three months later, as he ran through the ruins of Canary Wharf searching for Lisa, he reached out to the presence in his mind as the only thing he recognized, the only thing that was real. It was as if his soulmate sensed his terror and radiated calm; it shouldn't have been possible, and maybe he was imagining it, but Ianto needed to believe something good, and he clung to the feeling of love and protectiveness he felt within his mind.

And then he was in Cardiff, trying to get into Torchwood Three. He needed to save Lisa, more than anything in the world. She wasn't his soul mate, but she was all he had now. Everything else had been ripped from him in one terrifying day, the ruins of Torchwood One haunting even his waking dreams. He knew his way in was through Jack Harkness, the irrepressible leader of Torchwood Cardiff: a rogue, a flirt, and from all other reports, an exceptionally dangerous man. He would have to tread carefully.

When he first saw Jack Harkness in the park, he was struck by the man's distance. Yes, he was handsome and he was cocky, but he was clearly putting up some strong defenses and wanted nothing to do with strange men in the park. Which had surprised Ianto, because he'd heard Jack Harkness liked a pretty face, and he'd tried his best to present one, dark jeans, denim jacket, and all. Instead he'd got clobbered by a Weevil and blown off.

Still, he didn't give up. He tried again, sensing that same aloofness, and then again. And it wasn't until they were rolling away from an unconscious dinosaur that Ianto felt Jack let down his guard somewhat and relax. He laughed, he smiled. Laying on top of him, Ianto felt something familiar; it was as if he'd known the man beneath him for far more than a few days. He sensed raging passions beneath the captain's carefully crafted image, and a deep feeling of loneliness. At that moment, it spoke to his own sense of loss, and it was all Ianto could do to not move closer, lower his head, press his lips against Jack's. For the first time, he was well and truly attracted to another man.

And then he remembered that this man could be his boss. That his girlfriend needed him to get a job at Torchwood Three, not to sleep with its enigmatic leader. So he stood, and he closed his eyes, and he let the disappointment flow through him. And not just his own—it was as if his soulmate were disappointed as well. Strange.

He got the job. He tried to save Lisa. He stood apart from the others, always watching. He watched Jack the most, and was fairly sure he caught Jack watching him several times as well. Yes, there was definitely an attraction there: plenty of flirting and clever banter covering up their physical desires. Yet beneath it all lingered that continued sense of familiarity.

Ianto felt like he knew Jack, and as the weeks and months went by, he found he could read the captain better than any of the others. He often knew what Jack wanted or needed before Jack even asked. He sensed when Jack was upset and needed space, and after a few wrong turns, knew when the captain needed a friendly ear.

The blackouts were not as frequent as they'd once been, which was good, because Ianto came to depend on the soulmate bond to get him through long days and nights at the Hub, its steady presence grounding him when he felt like he might lose his mind living a lie. He was almost caught once, when he was on the comms with Jack late one night, helping him retrieve something that'd come through over in the Wetland Reserves. Jack was reaching toward the mysterious object when Ianto felt that sharp tug in his mind and gasped; he remembered nothing until several minutes later when Jack was frantically calling his name, and he shook himself clear of the episode and answered as calmly as he could. Jack sounded terrified, and Ianto assured him he was fine, only tired. Jack sent him home and told him to sleep in.

The night Lisa died was the first time he suspected anything, at least looking back. At the time, he had refused to even contemplate the possibility. He'd been so terrified that night, so angry at the others, and yet he was almost overwhelmed by the feelings of anger and betrayal he felt in that walled away part of his mind that belonged to his soulmate. It didn't make sense, until he remembered the look on Jack's face, the anger and betrayal. But it couldn't be…could it?

He tightened the walls around his animoré during his suspension; if he felt anything—worry, concern, the ever-present loneliness—he immediately pushed it back, shut the door, and locked it over and over. He wanted nothing to do with it anymore. He'd lost Lisa, and the thought that the man who'd killed her might be…but no. It wasn't possible. Ianto would have known.

He started going to a nearby pub when he could, trying to drown his feelings in alcohol. Anger, confusion, loss—no matter how many pints he had, it didn't work. He still felt it all, and the presence in his mind seemed equally upset. He mentioned it a few times to Mandy, the barmaid, but she'd never had a soulmate, and though she was a great listener when it came to his problems with Lisa, and Jack, and his job, she didn't seem to understand that particular issue—that he worked with the man who not only shot his girlfriend, but might be his soulmate.

When he came back to work, things were difficult. The others looked at him differently, and Jack…well. Jack looked at him differently, as if he were starting to suspect something as well. Talked to Ianto differently. Flirted with him differently. Jack seemed tentative and confused, no longer angry, but accepting and interested. Ianto refused to believe it was possible after all they'd been through and shut the doors of his mind tighter, ignoring the hurt and disappointment he felt, the same hurt and disappointment he saw on Jack's face.

Until his life fell apart again when he was queued up for dinner in the Brecon Beacons.

His defenses fell to pieces. He wanted nothing more than to wrap himself in the love and comfort he felt from his animoré, and for a moment, he did. He fell asleep on the drive home, his mind curled up next to that comforting presence, letting it hold him, heal him. His soulmate understood and accepted him, calmed his fears and reassured him that he was alive and loved. When Ianto awoke outside his flat, it was to find Jack gently stroking his face.

"We need to talk," he said. Ianto sat up straight, shook his head away from the warm touch of Jack's hand.

"I'm sorry, sir," he said, deliberately misinterpreting Jack's words, even though it was obvious from the face-touching what Jack wanted to talk about. "I was captured and compromised. You'd be absolutely right to take me off field duty."

"What?" Jack said, stepping away. "What do you mean, off field duty?"

Ianto stepped out of the car and moved away from Jack toward the pavement in front of his building. "I failed and almost got both myself and Tosh killed."

"No, from what I heard, you helped Tosh escape and took the fall for it," Jack replied with a frown. "You did good out there, and I'm sorry that you…that I couldn't…I'm sorry," he finished. "But I'm not taking you off field duty."

"Oh." Ianto didn't know what to say and stumbled over his words. "Er, thank you, sir. I'll see you in the morning, then."

"No, you'll take the day off, maybe two or three depending on what Owen says," Jack replied. "That's not what I wanted to talk about."

"If it has to do with the report," Ianto began, deflecting once more, but Jack stepped forward and stopped him.

"That's not it either," Jack said quietly. Ianto met his eyes.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Ianto replied.

"I think you do," Jack said, moving even closer.

"Even if I did, it doesn't matter," Ianto told him. "It's not… and it won't…"

Jack laid a hand on his shoulder, leaned closer until their foreheads were touching.

"It does matter. Because I know it's you now, in my head."

"No," Ianto whispered, letting his eyes close. "It's not me. It can't be me."

"I know you can feel it too," Jack said. "We have to talk about it."

"No, Jack, we don't," Ianto replied, pulling away with a deep breath. Jack's touch did things to him, always had, and he couldn't think clearly if Jack was so near. "Because our past won't let us. I won't let us. I can't."

Jack's face went through many emotions: surprise, hurt, anger, then it went blank, and he stepped away. "If that's what you want," he said, sounding reluctant. "I won't bring it up again."

"Thank you, sir," Ianto replied stiffly. "I appreciate it. And for what it's worth, I'm sorry."

Jack raised an eyebrow and offered a sad smile. "I'm sorry too." He brushed his fingers along Ianto's jaw again. "Because it could have been great." His fingers lingered before he dropped his hand and turned to leave. He went back to the driver's side of the SUV and started the car, glancing at Ianto. "You're sure you'll be all right alone?" he asked.

"Always am, sir," Ianto replied, hating the double meaning in his words. Jack turned toward the wheel and nodded.

"I know the feeling," he murmured. "Call if you need anything, me or Owen. I'll see you in a few days."

"Thank you, sir," Ianto murmured back, but Jack had already started to pull away, and Ianto wondered if he'd ruined his last chance for happiness by rejecting his soulmate. He wasn't sure what happened when two people found one another but didn't end up together. Because he couldn't be with Jack Harkness, soulmate or not. Jack was dangerous, full of secrets and lies. He'd killed Ianto's lover, held a gun to Ianto's head. Normal people didn't fall in love under those circumstances, and it seemed a cruel twist of fate for the universe to set them as soulmates with so much history between them.

Disappointment and heartbreak filled his chest, and in the part of his mind where he knew his soulmate dwelled, he felt the same heartbreak echoed back at him. And then it all went blank, Jack's presence gone from his mind, and he wondered if he'd done the right thing after all.

Author's Note:

The soulmate trope: one of those guilty pleasures of fanfiction. And now I can claim one for my own oeuvre! I must confess, I do love a good soulmate story for these two characters. DinoDina has written several of them, and I have said many times, "I want to write one too, someday!" Many thanks to DinoDina for her help on this as I poked her for ideas. Please head over to her page and read some of her lovely soulmate stories! I will post the second part in a few days. I hope you enjoyed my attempt at something different.