Title: Five Times the Charm
Warning: Suicide, Slash, character death
Spoilers: Cyberwoman, CoE
Summary: Four times in Ianto's life where he tried to kill himself, one time he succeeded.
A/N: There's no beta, all mistakes are sadly mine. I wanted to do one of these for awhile, but I could not think of one. This is what I came up with. And, honestly, I'm sorry I keep killing Ianto. Maybe I'll think of a really fluffy story soon to weigh out all this angst. Also, I have a livejournal now. It is under the name rainbow213. If anyone knows how to make a layout, could they make me one? Pretty please with a really kind review or Janto story on top?
Disclaimer: I do not own Torchwood or anything else you recognize like Tetris or Nintendo.
The first time, he was ten. His house seemed to be getting smaller with Rhiannon deciding to stay home- for Mam's sake, of course- and dad's boxes piling up where ever he had room and Mam's craft corner getting larger every time she took on a new project.
His dad always smelled like rum then, or lager or any of the local pubs. It didn't bother Ianto much in the beginning, but by the end he didn't want to have to choose which belt to beaten with.
And his mam. That was the third time she'd gone after him. Only this time, it wasn't the steak knife or the knitting needles. It was the scissors. And this time, he almost didn't stop her.
The second time, Ianto was fifteen. He was standing outside the school when Cadell Bevan offered him a blow job. He wasn't sure how he felt about that. He always thought that he was supposed to feel that comfortable around boys. He figured it was natural. He told Cadell it was alright.
Gavin had seen Cadell on his knees and told all of his friends, who in turn told all of their friends. Ianto never spoke to Cadell again after that, his father cracking the whip even harder. And he let him.
But that had to stop sometime.
The third time, he was twenty and he was at university. He didn't have many friends at school. There was his roommate, Drew, but he was a Poli-Sci major who played Tetris on his Nintendo.
He met a few guys at a party, they were doing shots and blowing coke. Ianto wasn't sure what to do- he just wanted to friends. He did a line. Then, he chugged down three more beers. The guys were impressed.
The paramedics were not.
The fourth time, he was twenty-four. Lisa had just died, (for real, this time) taken down by Torchwood and their powerful army. He knew she wasn't the real Lisa, not when she was hooked up to the cybernetic machine that forced her breathing, and when she couldn't even make it through an hour without pain medication.
Jack was no help. He refused to kill or Retcon Ianto. And that was making the pain insufferable. He didn't know how long he could go with the memory of her, but not to be able to touch or see; to hear to talk to. She couldn't tell him anymore stupid jokes about squirrels and skittles or sing to him about the sunrise. Always an echo, never the real thing.
He begged for Jack to shoot him. For hours and days and weeks. From the day he started his four week suspension, Ianto pleaded to be with her. He was pitiful and depressing and hopeless, but he was determined.
His wish didn't come true.
The fifth time he tried, he was twenty-six. Tosh and Owen had died a few months before, his best friend and a close colleague- as Owen and him never really got on. The children was stopping, talking, and it was his niece and nephew, too. He just wanted it all to stop.
Jack wasn't helping in the least bit. He didn't tell him a damn thing. I've got a daughter and a grandson. Ianto's really glad they had an honest and open relationship.
He can't take the look his sister gave him when he visited. The questions, the one's about Jack and his work and personal life, they can go to hell. He won't answer them. He can't anyway.
But finally, as the 456 prepare to fight Jack for those thousands of children, he thought that it may finally come his time. It may not be self-infliction, but this seems more heroic. And this way, he gets to die in Jack's arms, and tell the immortal man exactly what he feels. I love you. And, I was good, yeah? Because he was.
He was damn good.