FanFic: To Forget
Title: To Forget
Pairing: Jack/Ianto kind of.
Rating: R
Summary: What lengths would you go to, get back who you are? What would you be prepared to do to know your name?
Disclaimer: Not Mine
Beta:madtheo
Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, and Chapter 12.
Chapter 13 - Epilogue
Ianto Jones. He was Ianto Jones. It was strange: on the one hand, he now knew his name again, but on the other, it didn't feel remotely familiar. It was like someone telling him he was Welsh. Sure, he knew he was Welsh, but how does one feel Welsh?
With his name had come the memories, not flooding back, but a slow trickle like he most clearly remembered everything from the past few days; the kidnapping, Hart, the strange person from Jack’s past and getting hurt. He remembered it all. As for his life before that.....
He could bring to mind most of the happenings in his life, but there was a disconcerting emotional blankness attached to them. It was like looking at someone else's family pictures; the names and places were all provided but beyond polite curiosity, nothing in the images resonated with him. He could remember helping his Da at the tailor shop when he was younger; laughing with his best friend in primary school after they glued their teacher's desk drawers shut; seeing Lisa for the last time, bloodied and forever encased in her steel frame; Jack kissing him for the first time - but they all could have happened to someone else for all the sensation he felt while he was recollecting them.
Sighing, he leant his head back against the sofa as a wave of mental exhaustion washed over him again. Since he had been discharged from the hospital, after spending two weeks in ICU and then another three in a normal ward, he had been pushing himself to recover as many of his memories as possible. Happy as he was to be home, the frustration of warring with his stubborn mind combined with the boredom of his house-bound convalescence was sapping his energy. He was anxious to get back to work, to try and use normal activity to restore his head, but Owen had him under uncompromising orders to stay at home until his stitches were out.
Ianto was just starting to nod off when a knock on his door had him hauling himself to his feet, grumbling about people with poor timing. Wincing as the stitches tugged at his slowly healing side, he made his way carefully to the front door. Pulling it open, he found himself smiling gratefully at the steaming cups of Starbucks coffee Jack held in his hands.
“I figured you could do with a proper drink,” Jack grinned.
“Sure. Come in.” Ianto waved him into the living room.
He may not have an emotional response to his recollections of Jack, but he couldn’t deny the strong attraction he felt in the here and now. He just wasn’t sure how to act on it. It was like re-learning something you already knew how to do; frustrating because he knew he'd dealt with these feelings in the past and nerve racking because it once again all felt brand new to him. Throw in the added feelings of discomfort and guilt at knowing Jack was patiently waiting for these feelings to resurface and it all felt like a little too much pressure.
Leaving Jack to close the door, Ianto stiffly walked back to his chair. He let out a relieved sigh as he sank back into the comfortable cushions.
“How you doing, Ianto?” Jack asked, setting the drinks down on the coffee table in front of him.
“I’m fine,” answered Ianto.
“Tosh sends her love, Owen said don’t tear your stitches or he’ll admit you and Gwen hit Owen before wishing you well,” said Jack.
The younger man laughed a little at that before biting back a moan of pain. God, he couldn't wait for this to stop hurting. Any little movement at all caused the wound to remind him that, yes, it was still there and no, it did not like being ignored.
“Ianto?” asked Jack alarmed.
“I’m okay,” answered Ianto quietly, his eyes shut tight against the pain.
He felt Jack touch his arm and couldn't prevent himself from tensing at the contact. He didn’t want Jack touching him, not until he was sure of a few things first. The hand was hastily taken back and Ianto looked up at Jack, inwardly flinching at the hurt he could see in the other man's eyes.
“I’m sorry,” whispered Ianto.
“It’ll be okay,” replied Jack.
Bowing his head, Ianto asked, “How is it going to be okay, Jack? She took my memories; of my friends, my life.....You. She left me empty. How is it going to be okay?”
Ianto felt a cool hand on his face and he tried to force himself to relax, to accept the contact for what it was: simple comfort, but it didn’t work and he ended up pulling away. He heard Jack's sigh but didn’t dare look up; he couldn’t bear to see the pain he'd caused again.
“I...can't help you regain everything,” Jack started hesitantly, “but I can help you bring back some of what you lost.” Ianto finally glanced up at the captain; he looked earnest, hopeful. “Maybe…maybe when you create new memories, new associations with old routines, it will help you to connect with your past.” He paused again, the look on his face now unsure. “It won’t be easy, Ianto, but if you'll let me...I plan to show you how it was with us.” Jack's hand lifted toward Ianto's face again, hovered near his cheek for a moment and then dropped back into his lap. Ianto swallowed as the captain leant forward, his voice soft. “I plan to remind you exactly how it felt between us.”
.
Pairing: Jack/Ianto kind of.
Rating: R
Summary: What lengths would you go to, get back who you are? What would you be prepared to do to know your name?
Disclaimer: Not Mine
Beta:madtheo
Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, and Chapter 12.
Chapter 13 - Epilogue
Ianto Jones. He was Ianto Jones. It was strange: on the one hand, he now knew his name again, but on the other, it didn't feel remotely familiar. It was like someone telling him he was Welsh. Sure, he knew he was Welsh, but how does one feel Welsh?
With his name had come the memories, not flooding back, but a slow trickle like he most clearly remembered everything from the past few days; the kidnapping, Hart, the strange person from Jack’s past and getting hurt. He remembered it all. As for his life before that.....
He could bring to mind most of the happenings in his life, but there was a disconcerting emotional blankness attached to them. It was like looking at someone else's family pictures; the names and places were all provided but beyond polite curiosity, nothing in the images resonated with him. He could remember helping his Da at the tailor shop when he was younger; laughing with his best friend in primary school after they glued their teacher's desk drawers shut; seeing Lisa for the last time, bloodied and forever encased in her steel frame; Jack kissing him for the first time - but they all could have happened to someone else for all the sensation he felt while he was recollecting them.
Sighing, he leant his head back against the sofa as a wave of mental exhaustion washed over him again. Since he had been discharged from the hospital, after spending two weeks in ICU and then another three in a normal ward, he had been pushing himself to recover as many of his memories as possible. Happy as he was to be home, the frustration of warring with his stubborn mind combined with the boredom of his house-bound convalescence was sapping his energy. He was anxious to get back to work, to try and use normal activity to restore his head, but Owen had him under uncompromising orders to stay at home until his stitches were out.
Ianto was just starting to nod off when a knock on his door had him hauling himself to his feet, grumbling about people with poor timing. Wincing as the stitches tugged at his slowly healing side, he made his way carefully to the front door. Pulling it open, he found himself smiling gratefully at the steaming cups of Starbucks coffee Jack held in his hands.
“I figured you could do with a proper drink,” Jack grinned.
“Sure. Come in.” Ianto waved him into the living room.
He may not have an emotional response to his recollections of Jack, but he couldn’t deny the strong attraction he felt in the here and now. He just wasn’t sure how to act on it. It was like re-learning something you already knew how to do; frustrating because he knew he'd dealt with these feelings in the past and nerve racking because it once again all felt brand new to him. Throw in the added feelings of discomfort and guilt at knowing Jack was patiently waiting for these feelings to resurface and it all felt like a little too much pressure.
Leaving Jack to close the door, Ianto stiffly walked back to his chair. He let out a relieved sigh as he sank back into the comfortable cushions.
“How you doing, Ianto?” Jack asked, setting the drinks down on the coffee table in front of him.
“I’m fine,” answered Ianto.
“Tosh sends her love, Owen said don’t tear your stitches or he’ll admit you and Gwen hit Owen before wishing you well,” said Jack.
The younger man laughed a little at that before biting back a moan of pain. God, he couldn't wait for this to stop hurting. Any little movement at all caused the wound to remind him that, yes, it was still there and no, it did not like being ignored.
“Ianto?” asked Jack alarmed.
“I’m okay,” answered Ianto quietly, his eyes shut tight against the pain.
He felt Jack touch his arm and couldn't prevent himself from tensing at the contact. He didn’t want Jack touching him, not until he was sure of a few things first. The hand was hastily taken back and Ianto looked up at Jack, inwardly flinching at the hurt he could see in the other man's eyes.
“I’m sorry,” whispered Ianto.
“It’ll be okay,” replied Jack.
Bowing his head, Ianto asked, “How is it going to be okay, Jack? She took my memories; of my friends, my life.....You. She left me empty. How is it going to be okay?”
Ianto felt a cool hand on his face and he tried to force himself to relax, to accept the contact for what it was: simple comfort, but it didn’t work and he ended up pulling away. He heard Jack's sigh but didn’t dare look up; he couldn’t bear to see the pain he'd caused again.
“I...can't help you regain everything,” Jack started hesitantly, “but I can help you bring back some of what you lost.” Ianto finally glanced up at the captain; he looked earnest, hopeful. “Maybe…maybe when you create new memories, new associations with old routines, it will help you to connect with your past.” He paused again, the look on his face now unsure. “It won’t be easy, Ianto, but if you'll let me...I plan to show you how it was with us.” Jack's hand lifted toward Ianto's face again, hovered near his cheek for a moment and then dropped back into his lap. Ianto swallowed as the captain leant forward, his voice soft. “I plan to remind you exactly how it felt between us.”
.