Campaspe (cs_whitewolf) wrote,

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Torchwood/Heroes FanFic: Just Like The Wind [Ianto/Peter]

Title: Just Like The Wind
Crossover: Torchwood / Heroes.
Rating(s): R-Rated. 
Pairing(s): Ianto Jones/Peter Petrelli. 
Warning(s): for attempted suicide/angst.
A/N: Inspired by  vands88own Torchwood/Heroes fic ‘Unlikely Encounter’, and thusly dedicated to her. 
I'm still deciding were I want to take this, but I figured I'd see what my beloved flist thought of it so far. I hope you'll all enjoy it eitherway!
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The air is chill; a kiss of frost to sting at tear-stained cheeks as liquid grief flows freely from reddened eyes, eyes that stare out across the bay and see in the darkness of a pre-dawning morning nothing of the beauty of life but everything in the promise of death. Wind whips at his body, as he stands, tall and shaken atop the roof, bare feet having lost all sensation as he curls naked toes over the edge.
He has left his shoes but a few paces away, sat neatly beside his suit jacket- all perfectly folded with crisp lines and little chance of creasing. It’s just his way. His tie flutters wildly, slapping against his chest every now and then as he spreads his arms and closes his eyes and prays with breaths so deep and panicked that this will make all the pain go away. Please let it make the pain go away.
And suddenly he is falling, flying-falling through the air in a graceful arc so beautifully executed, his face a smile of bliss- an angel without wings as he jumps- face wet with his tears but never before has he looked so at peace with himself and his place in the world, never before.
The pain will go away.
 - - -
Peter ran a hand through his hair, feeling the chilled strands catch as he combed his fingers through the wind-swept locks. He’d been standing here, for how long he wasn’t sure, just staring out over the bay. It was a cold morning. Dull and grey. The wind crisp and cool, buffeting the coat that hung loosely upon his slender frame as he simply stood and stared.
Nathan would be worrying, he knew. It was too soon after the near cataclysmic events in New York for Peter to be wandering about by himself. But ever since Nathan had grabbed him close and flown him halfway across the world (the shock and speed of the flight enough to tear the brewing apocalypse from his body), his brother had become a little too unbearable in his protectiveness. Refusing to let him out of his sight, never mind their hotel room, for so much as a minute. Peter couldn’t breathe. He’d been slowly suffocating since their arrival in Cardiff. He’d just had to leave.
Peter heaved a sigh. He hadn’t gone far. If Nathan came looking for him, he’d find Peter easily enough. He dipped his head to stare forlornly down at his trainers; scuffed and dirtied as he toed the left one into the ground. He wasn’t sure what made him suddenly turn, didn’t know why he chose that exact moment to look at, then up at the roof of the Millennium Centre, but when he did Peter found that he couldn’t breathe. His eyes grew wide and fearful as he caught sight of a man standing at the very edge, his arms spreading a second before he allowed himself to fall forward and over the edge.
He didn’t spare a moment to think about it. Didn’t entertain the thought that this was a desperate man’s last attempt at making everything that was wrong in his life right. He simply reacted- responding to the sight of a man falling from a building and rushed to his aid- the power of flight coming more easily to him now than ever before.
The collision of their bodies winded him, but Peter gasped through it, tightening his arms about the man he now held and pulling him up- back up to the roof where they landed in a tangle of limbs and groans.
Peter’s legs felt like jelly as he pulled himself up, stumbling away from the other man who was slowly pushing himself to his feet. The man was pale and shaking, he noted, looking lost and not a little confused. Peter briefly entertained the thought of using his invisibility to disappear before he had to explain things, but the other man turned to him before he had the chance.
He shifted. The other man stared at him with empty eyes and Peter suppressed a shudder.
“Um…” Peter ran his hand awkwardly through his hair. “Hey?”
The man blinked slowly at him. “Hello,” He said, cautiously, his accent thickly Welsh.
“I’m Peter, Peter Petrelli.” The man frowned at him, slanting his gaze away for a heartbeat as he took in the fact that he was back atop the very roof he’d only moments ago tried to leap to his death from.
The man hunched his shoulders as if defeated.
“Ianto. Ianto Jones.” He finally replied.
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Tags: [&]: [m/m]: ianto jones/peter petrelli, fanfic: crossover, fanfic: crossover: tw/heroes, fanfic: heroes, fanfic: torchwood, fic: series: just like the wind, fic: verse: save the welshman!

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