Fic: The New Addition - Part 1-2
Title: The New Addition - Part 1-2
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Coat, Ianto, Jack.
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: None.
Warnings: M-Preg.
Summary: Coat’s existence is about to take several very unexpected turns…
Word Count: 2292
Written For: backrose_17’s prompt ‘Jack's Coat has seen him through a lot of Christmases, but his favourite is this one with the welcome of the first Harkness-Jones into the family’, at torchwood_fest 2021.
Beta: My lovely friend milady_dragon. Thanks so much!
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood or the characters; they belong to the BBC and each other.
Coat had been left on the proverbial shelf, or at least the coat rack in Jack’s office, more and more in recent weeks, and it was becoming frustrated by its seeming abandonment. It understood that it was being worn less and less because it would no longer fasten properly around Jack’s steadily increasing girth, it just didn’t understand its owner’s strange expansion. Had the Captain been overeating? From what Coat had seen over the years that wasn’t outside the realms of possibility.
Food was a human thing; Coat had been given to understand that people needed it in order to fuel their bodies, and Jack certainly appeared to enjoy eating, given how frequently he shed crumbs and left sticky smears down Coat’s front. It had long since grown accustomed to having such messes cleaned off it, sometimes by Jack and sometimes by Ianto. In truth, getting bits of food in its fibres wasn’t nearly as unpleasant as getting covered in blood, or mud, or alien slime. Still, Coat hadn’t noticed its Captain consuming larger quantities of food than normal, at least not in its presence, although judging by what was dripped down it, his food preferences seemed to have altered over the past few months.
It wasn’t Coat’s business to judge others, least of all its owner, but it didn’t like to think that Jack was letting himself go. Even a hero coat like itself would be hard put to make the Captain look suitably dashing in his present state. Not that Coat had been required to do so recently, considering how seldom Jack went anywhere. He arrived at the Hub with Ianto every morning, sat in the chair at his desk for most of the day, and then left with Ianto each night, leaving Coat to watch over the Hub. He no longer went out on missions with the team, preferring to send the other members out in his stead, which Coat considered odd. The Captain had always been the kind of man to take charge and Coat was used to being out there on the front line with him, protecting Cardiff from all manner of threats. Now though, it just got to hang on the coat rack, day in and day out, watching Jack get bigger and bigger.
Perhaps the lack of activity was to blame for the Captain’s increasing size; he was eating as much as ever, but not getting any exercise and therefore not using all the fuel he consumed. He also hadn’t died for… Coat wasn’t very good at keeping track of time over long periods, especially when it was always indoors and not able to observe the turning of the seasons, but it must have been many months since Jack’s last death. Dying always reset Jack to what Coat considered its Captain’s natural state; the lack of dying was another possible explanation for the fact that Jack was swelling around the middle.
All Coat could do was speculate, since nobody ever told it anything. It wished they would; how was it supposed to do its job efficiently if potentially important information was forever being withheld? Then again, at present it didn’t seem to have much of a job. Its existence had become humdrum in the extreme, just hanging around watching its tiny corner of the world pass by. Coat missed being outside in all weathers, experiencing the excitement of field missions.
Then one morning Ianto came to the Hub all by himself. He sat at Jack’s desk, did Jack’s paperwork, answered Jack’s phone, led the team, and generally acted like he was in charge. The same thing happened the next day, and the next, and kept on happening until a week or more had passed. Coat was starting to get seriously worried. Where was the Captain? What had happened to him? Had he gone away?
Sometimes Jack left for a week or two on something called a holiday, but on those occasions Ianto would always go with him. Coat was never invited, but that was probably because these holidays had nothing to do with work. This seemed different though, and not just because Ianto was still here. Coat experienced a sinking sensation, right down to its hem; had it been abandoned? Did the Captain no longer want it, or Ianto? Had they both been left behind? The idea took all the starch out of Coat, and it sagged limply. What could possibly be worse than being discarded? Had it done something wrong? Was this its punishment for failing to stretch enough to encompass its owner’s bulk? It wished it knew; the uncertainty was becoming unbearable.
Another week passed and Coat wilted a little more each day. What next? Would it wind up being shoved into a bag and donated to a good cause, like Ianto had done with some of Jack’s most outdated garments that time? Such a fate didn’t bear thinking about. Who else would give it the care and attention it was accustomed to? Although come to think of it, both care and attention had been somewhat lacking of late. Coat couldn’t remember the last time anyone so much as brushed it, even Ianto, who was usually so conscientious, making sure it was always in tip-top condition.
Suddenly Coat was struck by a wave of such abject misery that it completely lost its ability to remain on its hanger and it slithered to the floor in a disconsolate heap. That was where Ianto found it some hours later when he arrived at the Hub to be Jack for another day.
“Oh dear, how long have you been down there?” Ianto picked Coat up, brushing lightly at its folds with one hand to dislodge the dust it had picked up.
‘Too long,’ Coat moped. ‘The floor is cold, and hard, and dirty but it suits my mood.’
Ianto was sympathetic, although Coat knew its friend didn’t understand what it was saying. The language of coats was difficult for humans to grasp, too subtle and nuanced for their senses to register, although coats could understand human speech easily enough if they chose to. Which, thinking about it, was rather odd, since coats lacked ears to hear with.
“Let’s get you back on your hanger.” Ianto hung Coat up and gave it a good brush down, but though that helped to lift its spirits for a little while, it didn’t last. All too soon despair settled in, and once again Cost slid helplessly to the floor.
So the day passed, with Ianto picking Coat off the floor and hanging it up, only for Coat to succumb once more to feelings of depression at being unwanted, and wind up on the dusty concrete again.
At last Ianto picked Coat up one final time and instead of returning it to its hanger, draped it over his arm. Coat stiffened with fright. Was this it? Was this the moment when it would be taken from its home and cast out into the cruel world, away from everything that was familiar?
Ianto carried it through to the underground garage and laid it on the backseat of his car, then climbed into the driver’s seat, something he’d done many times before, usually when taking Coat to the cleaners. Coat allowed itself a faint sliver of hope; maybe that was where they were headed this time too. After all, it had been on the dirty floor several times, and hanging on the coat rack for weeks before that.
When Ianto stopped the car at their destination and plucked Coat out of the backseat, it found itself in a place it recognised, the parking area of the old warehouse building where Ianto now lived with Jack. Or had before Jack’s recent disappearance. This was even better than being taken to the cleaners; perhaps it wasn’t about to be thrown out after all.
Without a word, Ianto took Coat up in the big old lift to the top floor of the warehouse where they entered the spacious apartment.
“Ianto? Is that you?”
Coat perked up at the sound of the familiar voice; Jack wasn’t gone, he was still here! But then why hadn’t he been coming to the Hub?
“Who else would it be?” Ianto called back, hanging up his own coat in the closet, then removing his shoes and placing them neatly on the shoe rack before padding down the steps into the open plan living room.
Jack appeared, and Coat noted the way its Captain was waddling awkwardly along, holding his back with one hand as if it pained him. That must be why he hadn’t been coming to the Hub; he was hurt, and not healing the way he usually did. Poor Jack, he was so round in the middle that there was no way Coat would fit him now.
“You’re early; is everything alright?” Jack asked.
“The Rift’s quiet for once, and according to Tosh it should stay that way at least through tomorrow, so I thought you might like some company. I’ve brought some paperwork back to do, and…” Ianto held Coat out in his arms. “I think someone’s been missing you.”
“My Coat!” The happiness in Jack’s voice dispelled the last of Coat’s fears; it was still wanted! Jack had missed it!
“Found it slumped on the floor five times today,” Ianto said placing the Coat gently in its owner’s arms. “If I had to guess I’d say it’s depressed at being left alone. I think it’ll be happier staying here with you.”
“Help me on with it?” Jack asked, holding Coat up.
“Are you sure? You might get a bit hot with it on.”
“Just for a while. It might need some of my vortex energy. I should have thought of that before.”
“You’ve got other things on your mind at the moment.” Ianto took Coat and held it up so Jack could slip his arms into its sleeves, then settled it on the Captain’s shoulders. For Coat it was like coming home; it felt warm and loved.
Taking the two sides, Jack tried to make Coat meet around his swollen middle, to no avail. He sighed heavily. “I’m so big! I look like a whale!”
“No you don’t, you’re gorgeous.” Ianto wrapped his arms around Jack and Coat, hugging them both. His arms didn’t meet around Jack’s middle any better than Coat did, but neither man seemed to mind. Coat hugged Jack too, in its own way, not sure why Jack had gone from being happy to almost crying in the space of a few seconds. It didn’t need to understand the reason though; Jack was its Captain, and it would do whatever it could to make him feel better. Although, honestly what Jack really needed was to lose the unsightly bulge around his middle. Carrying all that extra weight had to be tiring.
“I’ve missed my Coat,” Jack mumbled against Ianto’s shoulder.
“I’m sure you have. Why don’t I make us a pot of tea and something for lunch while you sit down and relax?”
“I’m not really hungry,” Jack sighed.
“Heartburn again?”
“All the time. Tea would be good though.”
“Tea it is then, and I’ll fix some sandwiches, cheese and jam, then you can help yourself if you want. Okay?”
“Okay.” Jack waddled his way over to the sofa and lowered himself carefully onto the cushions with a heartfelt groan, lifting his feet one at a time onto the footstool. In Coat’s considered opinion, skipping a few meals wouldn’t do Jack any harm at all. His excess weight was clearly hampering his ability to get around; he wouldn’t be able to run if the fate of the world depended on it. His bad back couldn’t be helping either. Everything he did seemed to take considerable effort. Settling himself as comfortably as he could, Jack picked up a bundle of wool off the seat beside him and started to knit.
‘So,’ Coat thought, ‘he’s still doing that.’ It had grown used to Jack knitting a lot while he’d still been spending his days at the Hub. This wasn’t the same thing he’d been making back then though, it was a different colour, lemon yellow instead of the pale purple Coat recalled from a few weeks earlier. Coat couldn’t really see the point in whatever it was Jack was making, it looked altogether too delicate to be of use to anyone, but if knitting made Jack happy, then Coat’s opinion was unimportant. As long as it got to stay with its Captain, that was the only thing that mattered.
Coat quickly settled into its new existence, spending a fair amount of time draped either around Jack’s shoulders or over his lap and legs, often covering Jack’s swollen middle. It soon became aware that the bulge occasionally moved in strange ways, seemingly independently of the rest of Jack. The movements sometimes made Jack wince and shift position as if he was in discomfort, but most often they brought a delighted smile to his face and he’d stroke the large bulge, talking to it, or maybe he was talking to Coat; it was hard to be sure. None of this bothered Coat all that much; it would have willingly put up with just about anything if it meant being able to serve its Captain.
Maybe it didn’t get to flutter and flounce dramatically these days, but keeping Jack’s feet warm meant it at least felt it was doing something useful, which was much better than being left alone on the coat stand day and night. Besides, Jack seemed to genuinely appreciate Coat’s company, especially when Ianto was away at the Hub. Even getting repeatedly poked by Jack’s knitting needles failed to dampen Coat’s mood. Life was good again.
Part 2
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Coat, Ianto, Jack.
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: None.
Warnings: M-Preg.
Summary: Coat’s existence is about to take several very unexpected turns…
Word Count: 2292
Written For: backrose_17’s prompt ‘Jack's Coat has seen him through a lot of Christmases, but his favourite is this one with the welcome of the first Harkness-Jones into the family’, at torchwood_fest 2021.
Beta: My lovely friend milady_dragon. Thanks so much!
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood or the characters; they belong to the BBC and each other.
Coat had been left on the proverbial shelf, or at least the coat rack in Jack’s office, more and more in recent weeks, and it was becoming frustrated by its seeming abandonment. It understood that it was being worn less and less because it would no longer fasten properly around Jack’s steadily increasing girth, it just didn’t understand its owner’s strange expansion. Had the Captain been overeating? From what Coat had seen over the years that wasn’t outside the realms of possibility.
Food was a human thing; Coat had been given to understand that people needed it in order to fuel their bodies, and Jack certainly appeared to enjoy eating, given how frequently he shed crumbs and left sticky smears down Coat’s front. It had long since grown accustomed to having such messes cleaned off it, sometimes by Jack and sometimes by Ianto. In truth, getting bits of food in its fibres wasn’t nearly as unpleasant as getting covered in blood, or mud, or alien slime. Still, Coat hadn’t noticed its Captain consuming larger quantities of food than normal, at least not in its presence, although judging by what was dripped down it, his food preferences seemed to have altered over the past few months.
It wasn’t Coat’s business to judge others, least of all its owner, but it didn’t like to think that Jack was letting himself go. Even a hero coat like itself would be hard put to make the Captain look suitably dashing in his present state. Not that Coat had been required to do so recently, considering how seldom Jack went anywhere. He arrived at the Hub with Ianto every morning, sat in the chair at his desk for most of the day, and then left with Ianto each night, leaving Coat to watch over the Hub. He no longer went out on missions with the team, preferring to send the other members out in his stead, which Coat considered odd. The Captain had always been the kind of man to take charge and Coat was used to being out there on the front line with him, protecting Cardiff from all manner of threats. Now though, it just got to hang on the coat rack, day in and day out, watching Jack get bigger and bigger.
Perhaps the lack of activity was to blame for the Captain’s increasing size; he was eating as much as ever, but not getting any exercise and therefore not using all the fuel he consumed. He also hadn’t died for… Coat wasn’t very good at keeping track of time over long periods, especially when it was always indoors and not able to observe the turning of the seasons, but it must have been many months since Jack’s last death. Dying always reset Jack to what Coat considered its Captain’s natural state; the lack of dying was another possible explanation for the fact that Jack was swelling around the middle.
All Coat could do was speculate, since nobody ever told it anything. It wished they would; how was it supposed to do its job efficiently if potentially important information was forever being withheld? Then again, at present it didn’t seem to have much of a job. Its existence had become humdrum in the extreme, just hanging around watching its tiny corner of the world pass by. Coat missed being outside in all weathers, experiencing the excitement of field missions.
Then one morning Ianto came to the Hub all by himself. He sat at Jack’s desk, did Jack’s paperwork, answered Jack’s phone, led the team, and generally acted like he was in charge. The same thing happened the next day, and the next, and kept on happening until a week or more had passed. Coat was starting to get seriously worried. Where was the Captain? What had happened to him? Had he gone away?
Sometimes Jack left for a week or two on something called a holiday, but on those occasions Ianto would always go with him. Coat was never invited, but that was probably because these holidays had nothing to do with work. This seemed different though, and not just because Ianto was still here. Coat experienced a sinking sensation, right down to its hem; had it been abandoned? Did the Captain no longer want it, or Ianto? Had they both been left behind? The idea took all the starch out of Coat, and it sagged limply. What could possibly be worse than being discarded? Had it done something wrong? Was this its punishment for failing to stretch enough to encompass its owner’s bulk? It wished it knew; the uncertainty was becoming unbearable.
Another week passed and Coat wilted a little more each day. What next? Would it wind up being shoved into a bag and donated to a good cause, like Ianto had done with some of Jack’s most outdated garments that time? Such a fate didn’t bear thinking about. Who else would give it the care and attention it was accustomed to? Although come to think of it, both care and attention had been somewhat lacking of late. Coat couldn’t remember the last time anyone so much as brushed it, even Ianto, who was usually so conscientious, making sure it was always in tip-top condition.
Suddenly Coat was struck by a wave of such abject misery that it completely lost its ability to remain on its hanger and it slithered to the floor in a disconsolate heap. That was where Ianto found it some hours later when he arrived at the Hub to be Jack for another day.
“Oh dear, how long have you been down there?” Ianto picked Coat up, brushing lightly at its folds with one hand to dislodge the dust it had picked up.
‘Too long,’ Coat moped. ‘The floor is cold, and hard, and dirty but it suits my mood.’
Ianto was sympathetic, although Coat knew its friend didn’t understand what it was saying. The language of coats was difficult for humans to grasp, too subtle and nuanced for their senses to register, although coats could understand human speech easily enough if they chose to. Which, thinking about it, was rather odd, since coats lacked ears to hear with.
“Let’s get you back on your hanger.” Ianto hung Coat up and gave it a good brush down, but though that helped to lift its spirits for a little while, it didn’t last. All too soon despair settled in, and once again Cost slid helplessly to the floor.
So the day passed, with Ianto picking Coat off the floor and hanging it up, only for Coat to succumb once more to feelings of depression at being unwanted, and wind up on the dusty concrete again.
At last Ianto picked Coat up one final time and instead of returning it to its hanger, draped it over his arm. Coat stiffened with fright. Was this it? Was this the moment when it would be taken from its home and cast out into the cruel world, away from everything that was familiar?
Ianto carried it through to the underground garage and laid it on the backseat of his car, then climbed into the driver’s seat, something he’d done many times before, usually when taking Coat to the cleaners. Coat allowed itself a faint sliver of hope; maybe that was where they were headed this time too. After all, it had been on the dirty floor several times, and hanging on the coat rack for weeks before that.
When Ianto stopped the car at their destination and plucked Coat out of the backseat, it found itself in a place it recognised, the parking area of the old warehouse building where Ianto now lived with Jack. Or had before Jack’s recent disappearance. This was even better than being taken to the cleaners; perhaps it wasn’t about to be thrown out after all.
Without a word, Ianto took Coat up in the big old lift to the top floor of the warehouse where they entered the spacious apartment.
“Ianto? Is that you?”
Coat perked up at the sound of the familiar voice; Jack wasn’t gone, he was still here! But then why hadn’t he been coming to the Hub?
“Who else would it be?” Ianto called back, hanging up his own coat in the closet, then removing his shoes and placing them neatly on the shoe rack before padding down the steps into the open plan living room.
Jack appeared, and Coat noted the way its Captain was waddling awkwardly along, holding his back with one hand as if it pained him. That must be why he hadn’t been coming to the Hub; he was hurt, and not healing the way he usually did. Poor Jack, he was so round in the middle that there was no way Coat would fit him now.
“You’re early; is everything alright?” Jack asked.
“The Rift’s quiet for once, and according to Tosh it should stay that way at least through tomorrow, so I thought you might like some company. I’ve brought some paperwork back to do, and…” Ianto held Coat out in his arms. “I think someone’s been missing you.”
“My Coat!” The happiness in Jack’s voice dispelled the last of Coat’s fears; it was still wanted! Jack had missed it!
“Found it slumped on the floor five times today,” Ianto said placing the Coat gently in its owner’s arms. “If I had to guess I’d say it’s depressed at being left alone. I think it’ll be happier staying here with you.”
“Help me on with it?” Jack asked, holding Coat up.
“Are you sure? You might get a bit hot with it on.”
“Just for a while. It might need some of my vortex energy. I should have thought of that before.”
“You’ve got other things on your mind at the moment.” Ianto took Coat and held it up so Jack could slip his arms into its sleeves, then settled it on the Captain’s shoulders. For Coat it was like coming home; it felt warm and loved.
Taking the two sides, Jack tried to make Coat meet around his swollen middle, to no avail. He sighed heavily. “I’m so big! I look like a whale!”
“No you don’t, you’re gorgeous.” Ianto wrapped his arms around Jack and Coat, hugging them both. His arms didn’t meet around Jack’s middle any better than Coat did, but neither man seemed to mind. Coat hugged Jack too, in its own way, not sure why Jack had gone from being happy to almost crying in the space of a few seconds. It didn’t need to understand the reason though; Jack was its Captain, and it would do whatever it could to make him feel better. Although, honestly what Jack really needed was to lose the unsightly bulge around his middle. Carrying all that extra weight had to be tiring.
“I’ve missed my Coat,” Jack mumbled against Ianto’s shoulder.
“I’m sure you have. Why don’t I make us a pot of tea and something for lunch while you sit down and relax?”
“I’m not really hungry,” Jack sighed.
“Heartburn again?”
“All the time. Tea would be good though.”
“Tea it is then, and I’ll fix some sandwiches, cheese and jam, then you can help yourself if you want. Okay?”
“Okay.” Jack waddled his way over to the sofa and lowered himself carefully onto the cushions with a heartfelt groan, lifting his feet one at a time onto the footstool. In Coat’s considered opinion, skipping a few meals wouldn’t do Jack any harm at all. His excess weight was clearly hampering his ability to get around; he wouldn’t be able to run if the fate of the world depended on it. His bad back couldn’t be helping either. Everything he did seemed to take considerable effort. Settling himself as comfortably as he could, Jack picked up a bundle of wool off the seat beside him and started to knit.
‘So,’ Coat thought, ‘he’s still doing that.’ It had grown used to Jack knitting a lot while he’d still been spending his days at the Hub. This wasn’t the same thing he’d been making back then though, it was a different colour, lemon yellow instead of the pale purple Coat recalled from a few weeks earlier. Coat couldn’t really see the point in whatever it was Jack was making, it looked altogether too delicate to be of use to anyone, but if knitting made Jack happy, then Coat’s opinion was unimportant. As long as it got to stay with its Captain, that was the only thing that mattered.
Coat quickly settled into its new existence, spending a fair amount of time draped either around Jack’s shoulders or over his lap and legs, often covering Jack’s swollen middle. It soon became aware that the bulge occasionally moved in strange ways, seemingly independently of the rest of Jack. The movements sometimes made Jack wince and shift position as if he was in discomfort, but most often they brought a delighted smile to his face and he’d stroke the large bulge, talking to it, or maybe he was talking to Coat; it was hard to be sure. None of this bothered Coat all that much; it would have willingly put up with just about anything if it meant being able to serve its Captain.
Maybe it didn’t get to flutter and flounce dramatically these days, but keeping Jack’s feet warm meant it at least felt it was doing something useful, which was much better than being left alone on the coat stand day and night. Besides, Jack seemed to genuinely appreciate Coat’s company, especially when Ianto was away at the Hub. Even getting repeatedly poked by Jack’s knitting needles failed to dampen Coat’s mood. Life was good again.
Part 2