Fandom: Torchwood. Title: Alley
Title: Alley
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Not mine
Beta: erin_giles
Summary: One night in one of Cardiff's Alleyways.
Author's Notes: This was written at some point last year, I don't remember exactly when, it was before CoE. So no spoilers for that, it was also one of erin_giles fics she was offering up, which I took on. It just twisted and turned into this huge thing. It is a little OOC on characters. Because it's such a large piece of work, I've had to split it into 3 parts.
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Ianto cradled the girl deftly in his arms. He didn’t even know her last name as she looked up at him with glassy eyes. He just knew her as Jenny. Jenny the bartender at a gentlemen’s club in the backstreets of Cardiff.
“Don’t tell my Mam,” she managed to croak out between parched lips, ruby red in colour due to both lipstick and now blood.
“I won’t sweetheart, I promise,” he replied, his hand still pressed firmly to her chest to try and staunch the bleeding.
“You just stay awake for me,” Ianto implored although he knew in his heart that it was too late as he stared into soft green eyes. She gave him a half-hearted smile, tears running down her cheeks now.
Ianto listened to sirens getting closer as Jenny continued to stare up at him with wide eyes full of innocence that she had lost so long ago. Ianto felt his own cheeks wet with tears as blue lights started to streak across the walls of the alley.
**
Jack found Ianto sat in the waiting room of A&E at the University Hospital. His head was bent forward over his clasped hands that Jack could see were still stained with blood. Jack didn’t saying, just placed a hand on Ianto’s shoulder, squeezing slightly in comfort. Ianto looked up at him, his face blank and unreadable, flecks of blood on his cheek and the smear of bloody fingerprints down the side of his neck.
“Come on,” Jack said, inclining his head towards the exit. Jack’s gesture said that he had taken care of what Ianto was supposed to, but had been too numb to handle. Ianto nodded, not willing to trust his voice as he rose to his feet, Jack moving past him towards the exit. He paused though as he watched a Doctor talking to a woman in her forties. He watched as the woman shook her head, once, twice, before dissolving into sobs and denials that her daughter wasn’t dead.
“Ianto?” Jack called back to him.
Ianto climbed into the SUV. He hadn’t said two words yet, he had just stared at his blood stained hands and they didn’t feel like they belonged to him. They felt numb and cold, just like the rest of his body. He shivered slightly before folding his hands in his lap, trying to hide the blood splatter on them. It was as though he was still holding Jenny; he could still feel the phantom imprint of her body pressed against his.
Taking a deep breath he looked up. He had gotten so lost in his thoughts of the past few hours he hadn’t realized that he had actually been travelling. He watched as the scenery went by, didn’t really register any kind of landmarks, he just knew he was travelling. He could still feel the cold, hard floor as he had held her, could still feel where she had gripped his shirt. He was sure there were bloodied handprints all over him, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. It was just another mark of what he hadn’t saved.
Ianto could hear his heart beat pick up, feel as his hands felt clammy and he couldn’t quite catch his breath. He was panicking and being in the enclosed SUV wasn’t exactly helping the matter. He closed his eyes, hoping it would be easier if he couldn’t see, but it just became harder to breath. Gripping his seatbelt tightly everything started to fade out and he was sure things were getting harder to hear. Panic had taken hold of him now and he was sure it wouldn’t be passing any time soon.
He was vaguely aware of Jack moving around him before he felt himself being pulled out of the SUV and into fresh air. He felt arms around his waist as he was held up right - his own legs not holding him up - as he faintly heard Jack speaking to him.
He could finally feel himself breathing a bit easier, his lungs filling with much needed air, his legs fully giving way causing him to fall to the grass. He felt how wet his face was again and he shied away from Jack. How could he have broken down like that? He had no right to do so; he hadn’t prevented Jenny’s death. He had just let her die, just let her blood wash over his hands and he had done nothing but spoken to her.
Making a fist he hit the grass, pain shooting up his arm. The pain radiating up his arm giving him something stronger to focus on, it was like waking from a deep sleep. He could feel himself shaking from the adrenalin rush that had coursed through him. He could feel Jack’s hand on his back trying to comfort him, the small circular motion actually irritating him. He moved to dislodge the hand from his back but Jack didn’t take the hint. Ianto looked up at the Captain and realized that Jack hadn’t actually stopped talking since he’d been dragged from the SUV.
He still couldn’t really make out what Jack was saying though, his head feeling like it had been stuffed with cotton wool and then dunked in water. He was afraid if he moved too fast his head would fall off. Lowering his head he finally registered the fact that he was still covered in Jenny’s blood, his hands a deep pink, the shirt cuffs stained red with smaller splatters up his arms and on his chest. It was also at this time that he heard just exactly what Jack was speaking about; Ianto couldn’t quite believe that Jack was talking about some old exploit.
Clenching his hands, he whispered, “Shut up,” his voice hoarse from all the talking he’d done earlier on.
Although he had only whispered it, it had carried in the late night like he had shouted it instead. He didn’t want to listen to Jack’s inane talking. He didn’t want to care about anything at this moment in time.
“You’re back with me, good.” Ianto could hear the relief in Jack’s voice, like he’d been waiting a long time for him to speak.
Ianto glanced at his bloodied watch. It read 2am. He’d been out all night and well into the early morning. He should have been exhausted by now but he still felt wide-awake. He was running on the adrenaline rush.
He didn’t bother looking up as he replied, “Leave me alone, Jack.” He could feel his body sag slightly.
“I don’t think so,” replied Jack, putting his hand back on Ianto’s shoulder. “I’m taking you home, come on.”
No pressure to talk, no questions asked, just a supporting hand helping him to stand up, that led him back to the SUV. There were now grass stains mingled in with the dried blood on his suit and hands. He tried to wipe his hands on his jacket, but he just ended with even more blood on them. He tried to protest as Jack manhandled him into the passenger seat of the SUV but his voice seemed to have stopped working and all his protests got stuck in his throat. So he let himself be manhandled. He let Jack help him.
The blue lights were on which cast blue shadows across both his and Jack’s faces, making them look ill. Ianto didn’t speak as Jack pulled away from the pavement and carried on towards his flat.
***
Ianto’s hand was shaking as he tried to put the keys in the lock, he wasn’t even sure if it was from exhaustion, adrenaline or both. He could however feel Jack watching him, his neck feeling like it was burning from the gaze, which made his hands shake so much more that he dropped his keys. They clattered to the ground. Closing his eyes he leant his head against the wooden door and hit it, his fist making the door rattle on its hinges. He hit the door several more times before he heard the jangle of the keys being picked up, a warm body was pressed against his back and then the door gave way slightly.
Yet again without prompting Jack had helped him. He half wondered if Jack would have down the same had been one of the others.
“You can leave now I’m home,” Ianto spoke quietly, not stepping into his flat just yet.
“I already told you, I’m not leaving,” Jack replied.
That confused Ianto. Why did Jack want to help? Sure, they sometimes slept together but that was all it was, wasn’t it? He shook his head, well he tried to while leaning against the door. He didn’t need these confusing thoughts.
“Please just leave, Jack.” He wasn’t above begging at this moment in time. His emotions were all over the place so much he wasn’t sure how much control he had left.
“Not gonna happen, Ianto.” The hand was back this time on his shoulder. He felt Jack lean closer to him. “You are in no state to be on your own, let someone take care of you for a change.”
Jack’s breath ghosted across his neck making him shudder. He had learnt several months ago that when Jack was this adamant on something it was pretty pointless to argue with him. Sighing, he finally pushed the door open and walked inside dropping the keys on the hallway table and taking his shoes off just before he stepped into the living room. He hadn’t bothered to turn the lights on; he often walked around his home in the dark. He knew where everything was so he knew he wouldn’t trip over it unlike Jack who could be heard muttering as he stumbled over something else. The room flooded with light when Jack stepped into the room and Ianto was tempted to tell the other man to leave again, but he had very little strength left to argue with the other man.
Ianto had spent the evening mostly in darkness; the alley where Jenny had been had only filled with light once the paramedics had gotten there, the SUV was dark anyway and the small grass patch he had broke down on had no lighting. So for the room to be suddenly filled with bright light, it reminded him of the hospital. He couldn’t quite believe it had only been an hour ago since Jack had come for him or was it two? Had it been two since Jenny had been torn to shreds or three? He couldn’t really recall. His time keeping had been the last thing on his mind as he had held a dying girl. The image of Jenny lying there, blood slowly pooling around her and soaking through his suit came to his mind. He felt his stomach tighten as the memories continued to assault him; blood, the wounds on her chest, her pleads to not tell her mam, her last breath. He didn’t remember moving, but he found himself leaning over the toilet the Chinese take away from the previous day making a not so nice reappearance. His stomach had rebelled against his memories until there was literally nothing left in his stomach.
“Here.” A glass of water was pressed into his hands, as he leant back against the wall next to the toilet. He had forgotten that Jack was still there ‘helping’ him.
Shakily he took a sip of the ice cool water, it actually did sooth his stomach slightly, at least it didn’t feel like he was going to be ill again, but it didn’t help with his memories. He gave Jack a small smile in thanks as he handed the water back. He was shaking and didn’t want to spill it over himself adding to the grime that was already there. Looking down at himself, he felt disgusted at the sight. Blood clung to the bottom of his jacket making it had dried earlier that evening, making the jacket feel stiff.
“Let’s get you cleaned up and then you can rest.” Rest, not sleep. It wasn’t sleep Jack had suggested just resting.
Ianto felt something twist inside of him and he just shut down, he let Jack clean him off. It was strange watching him self being washed down; water turning pink as blood was washed from his hands and even some from his face. But he didn’t feel any of it, it was like he was stood outside watching through a window, there was no sound, no way to feel or touch what was being done. All he could do was watch and wait until Jack had finished. He watched as Jack finally got around to washing the blood of his hands. He watched, fascinated as the blood turned a deeper pink than before; there was some of his own blood mixed in there and not just Jenny’s. He flexed his fingers as though testing to see what hurt. He curled his hand around Jack’s, but he couldn’t feel it, couldn’t feel anything. It was as though the numbness was spreading through him again and he felt cold. He saw as Jack covered his hand with his own and he slowly started feeling heat then.
Looking up he caught the look of worry on Jack’s face, something that he wasn’t really use to seeing being directed at him, not from Jack. He held onto Jack’s hand tighter. The tighter he held it the more he seemed to be able to feel, until he realized that his hand was actually quite sore and he pulled his hand away, the moment broken. Yet it had seemed like something had been opened up between the two of them, some unseen step had been taken and in that moment when Ianto had been holding Jack’s hand he had put into words what he wasn’t and probably never would say. This new development though scared him; it shouldn’t be this easy to…have feelings for someone. Why now? Why had he felt this now when everything had just gone so wrong? What had he done to deserve Jack looking after him?
Ianto stared at Jack for a little while longer before looking away. He couldn’t stand to look at Jack and feel something when Jenny was lying dead in some hospital morgue somewhere, cold and unfeeling. He heard Jack sigh before he was once more being cleaned up.
After Jack had finished cleaning him up, which had included a rather cheeky smile on Jack’s part when Ianto’s shirt had been removed, he found himself stood in front of his bed. He knew that Jack was unsettled by his lack of response to anything and everything, but he couldn’t speak, couldn’t react. Couldn’t do anything.
“Ianto,” began Jack, taking a step towards the Welshman.
“Don’t, please just don’t,” whispered Ianto, moving away from Jack. He couldn’t get comfort not when it wasn’t the right time.
“Ianto you can’t…”
“I said don’t!” snapped Ianto. “Just leave like I asked you to earlier!”
“I was just going to say you can’t sleep in those trousers,” replied Jack, holding a hand up in a peaceful gesture. “Okay, I’ll leave, for now. Goodnight, Ianto.”
Ianto watched as Jack left his bedroom, the door closing with a loud click. Ianto was left in complete darkness, just as he had wanted it, darkness to hide his guilt. He went to the bedroom door, all intention of opening it and calling Jack back, to apologise but he stopped himself. He was not some small child that needed someone to come and look after him. He pushed himself away from the door, his hand lingering slightly as he did so, as though trying as one last ditched attempt to see if Jack was still there or if he had left completely.
Taking the dirtied trousers off and putting them in the hamper, Ianto finally climbed on to his bed. He didn’t bother getting under his covers, he had had no intention of actually going to sleep. Instead he just lay there on his back staring at the chipped paint on the ceiling. When he had first moved back to Cardiff after Canary Wharf, he would often talk to Lisa about what needed fixing in the flat. He had plans to fix it all up so that once she was well again they could live here. Ianto had told her about the ceiling in the bedroom and she had told him to get it sorted straight away. That evening he had gone out and bought a tin of white pain, nothing special just the average tin of paint. The next day the team had discovered Lisa hidden in the basement and his plans had fallen through. He wondered if he still had that tin of paint somewhere in a back cupboard or if it had been thrown out with some of the other stuff? His stomach hurt as he thought back on what had happened. Another death not prevented. Someone else dead because of him. He had called Jack a monster at that time and he’d meant it, but now at this moment in time all he felt was pain, his stomach hurting as he remembered. Rolling onto his side he tugged a pillow to hug it close to himself and closed his eyes, he bit his bottom lip to stop the sobs that were clawing to get out. It was all he could do, as he finally fell into an exhausted slumber, the tears still leaving marks on his face…
Ianto was kneeling on the floor. He had scuffed his hands against the wall as he’d reached to lift the bloodied figure off the floor. At first when he had got to the person, he thought they were dead; the amount of blood on the floor had given him every reason to believe this. It wasn’t until he had moved some of the hair from the person’s face that he realized they were just still breathing; if the small bubbles of blood at the corner of her mouth was anything to go by.
Ianto had partially lifted her on to his knees, not caring that his suit - new on that day - was soaking up the blood from the floor and from her body. With one hand holding the young girl tightly he used the other to brush her black hair from her face, some of it had become matted as the blood had dried and he couldn’t stop the small gasp that escaped him.
He knew who this was - well knew of her - he had chatted to her twice before he had stopped going to the club. He realised he had never asked her for a name. He pulled the girl closer his hands pressing over the wound making her whimper loudly, but he kept the pressure on. His hands became covered in blood in a matter of seconds, the warm sticky flow staining his white skin. He felt his stomach give a small jolt and he could feel bile rise in his throat….
Waking with a jolt Ianto stayed perfectly still, his stomach tying itself in knots over his dream, he kept his mouth firmly closed as well, as though that would prevent him being ill. Slowly he realised that he wasn’t actually alone, but was rather next to a body, a body that hadn’t been next to him when he had fallen to sleep. It took him another few minutes, his stomach finally stopped twisting into strange shapes, before he realized said body was actually Jack. There was a hand running through his sweat-slicked hair and a hand on his back. He was being comforted. He felt a small flare of annoyance at actually needing to be comforted but he didn’t pull away. Once he was breathing normally again, sure his stomach wasn’t going to turn itself inside out and he could actually look at Jack without feeling humiliated, he moved away from the comfort that had been offered and rolled over to face him. It was strange because he could clearly remember telling Jack to leave earlier, the thud of the bedroom door had proved this fact. So why was he here now?
“Jack?” Ianto asked confused. “What are you doing here? Still?” He subconsciously pulled one of the covers closer to himself, feeling rather vulnerable in the position he was in.
“I told you, I wasn’t going to leave you alone,” said Jack. “I know what you’re going through, know how your feeling, Ianto.”
The way Jack was watching him, like nothing else could tear his attention away from Ianto, made him feel uneasy. “Please leave me alone, sir.”
He pulled the bed cover up to his chest, and rolled away from Jack. He didn’t need Jack’s knowing words, didn’t want the comfort that was being so freely given, didn’t want to be placated. He wanted to forget, to close his eyes and shut the world out at least for a few days. It wasn’t fair, this wasn’t meant to happen, he was supposed to be office-support - the tea-boy - not this inexperienced field agent that would have sex with the boss. Ianto felt his heart clench as he thought of Jack, when had lust turned into…well something else? When had he started to care again?
He felt the bed dip before Jack was lying at his back hugging him, arms pulling him closer to the comfort. Normally his and Jack’s ‘relationship’ didn’t really allow for hugs, but it seemed that unspoken step from earlier now meant they could. Ianto closed his eyes. He didn’t want to see Jack’s face and he kept himself as still as possible. If he relaxed, if he let himself feel this would turn into more than just hugging. Yet slowly, very slowly, there was something about the way Jack was hugging him that let Ianto relax slightly. His eyes weren’t as tightly closed as before and the grip on his bed covers relaxed off slightly as he finally, after the nightmare of an evening, managed to fall to sleep without dreaming.
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Not mine
Beta: erin_giles
Summary: One night in one of Cardiff's Alleyways.
Author's Notes: This was written at some point last year, I don't remember exactly when, it was before CoE. So no spoilers for that, it was also one of erin_giles fics she was offering up, which I took on. It just twisted and turned into this huge thing. It is a little OOC on characters. Because it's such a large piece of work, I've had to split it into 3 parts.
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Ianto cradled the girl deftly in his arms. He didn’t even know her last name as she looked up at him with glassy eyes. He just knew her as Jenny. Jenny the bartender at a gentlemen’s club in the backstreets of Cardiff.
“Don’t tell my Mam,” she managed to croak out between parched lips, ruby red in colour due to both lipstick and now blood.
“I won’t sweetheart, I promise,” he replied, his hand still pressed firmly to her chest to try and staunch the bleeding.
“You just stay awake for me,” Ianto implored although he knew in his heart that it was too late as he stared into soft green eyes. She gave him a half-hearted smile, tears running down her cheeks now.
Ianto listened to sirens getting closer as Jenny continued to stare up at him with wide eyes full of innocence that she had lost so long ago. Ianto felt his own cheeks wet with tears as blue lights started to streak across the walls of the alley.
**
Jack found Ianto sat in the waiting room of A&E at the University Hospital. His head was bent forward over his clasped hands that Jack could see were still stained with blood. Jack didn’t saying, just placed a hand on Ianto’s shoulder, squeezing slightly in comfort. Ianto looked up at him, his face blank and unreadable, flecks of blood on his cheek and the smear of bloody fingerprints down the side of his neck.
“Come on,” Jack said, inclining his head towards the exit. Jack’s gesture said that he had taken care of what Ianto was supposed to, but had been too numb to handle. Ianto nodded, not willing to trust his voice as he rose to his feet, Jack moving past him towards the exit. He paused though as he watched a Doctor talking to a woman in her forties. He watched as the woman shook her head, once, twice, before dissolving into sobs and denials that her daughter wasn’t dead.
“Ianto?” Jack called back to him.
Ianto climbed into the SUV. He hadn’t said two words yet, he had just stared at his blood stained hands and they didn’t feel like they belonged to him. They felt numb and cold, just like the rest of his body. He shivered slightly before folding his hands in his lap, trying to hide the blood splatter on them. It was as though he was still holding Jenny; he could still feel the phantom imprint of her body pressed against his.
Taking a deep breath he looked up. He had gotten so lost in his thoughts of the past few hours he hadn’t realized that he had actually been travelling. He watched as the scenery went by, didn’t really register any kind of landmarks, he just knew he was travelling. He could still feel the cold, hard floor as he had held her, could still feel where she had gripped his shirt. He was sure there were bloodied handprints all over him, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. It was just another mark of what he hadn’t saved.
Ianto could hear his heart beat pick up, feel as his hands felt clammy and he couldn’t quite catch his breath. He was panicking and being in the enclosed SUV wasn’t exactly helping the matter. He closed his eyes, hoping it would be easier if he couldn’t see, but it just became harder to breath. Gripping his seatbelt tightly everything started to fade out and he was sure things were getting harder to hear. Panic had taken hold of him now and he was sure it wouldn’t be passing any time soon.
He was vaguely aware of Jack moving around him before he felt himself being pulled out of the SUV and into fresh air. He felt arms around his waist as he was held up right - his own legs not holding him up - as he faintly heard Jack speaking to him.
He could finally feel himself breathing a bit easier, his lungs filling with much needed air, his legs fully giving way causing him to fall to the grass. He felt how wet his face was again and he shied away from Jack. How could he have broken down like that? He had no right to do so; he hadn’t prevented Jenny’s death. He had just let her die, just let her blood wash over his hands and he had done nothing but spoken to her.
Making a fist he hit the grass, pain shooting up his arm. The pain radiating up his arm giving him something stronger to focus on, it was like waking from a deep sleep. He could feel himself shaking from the adrenalin rush that had coursed through him. He could feel Jack’s hand on his back trying to comfort him, the small circular motion actually irritating him. He moved to dislodge the hand from his back but Jack didn’t take the hint. Ianto looked up at the Captain and realized that Jack hadn’t actually stopped talking since he’d been dragged from the SUV.
He still couldn’t really make out what Jack was saying though, his head feeling like it had been stuffed with cotton wool and then dunked in water. He was afraid if he moved too fast his head would fall off. Lowering his head he finally registered the fact that he was still covered in Jenny’s blood, his hands a deep pink, the shirt cuffs stained red with smaller splatters up his arms and on his chest. It was also at this time that he heard just exactly what Jack was speaking about; Ianto couldn’t quite believe that Jack was talking about some old exploit.
Clenching his hands, he whispered, “Shut up,” his voice hoarse from all the talking he’d done earlier on.
Although he had only whispered it, it had carried in the late night like he had shouted it instead. He didn’t want to listen to Jack’s inane talking. He didn’t want to care about anything at this moment in time.
“You’re back with me, good.” Ianto could hear the relief in Jack’s voice, like he’d been waiting a long time for him to speak.
Ianto glanced at his bloodied watch. It read 2am. He’d been out all night and well into the early morning. He should have been exhausted by now but he still felt wide-awake. He was running on the adrenaline rush.
He didn’t bother looking up as he replied, “Leave me alone, Jack.” He could feel his body sag slightly.
“I don’t think so,” replied Jack, putting his hand back on Ianto’s shoulder. “I’m taking you home, come on.”
No pressure to talk, no questions asked, just a supporting hand helping him to stand up, that led him back to the SUV. There were now grass stains mingled in with the dried blood on his suit and hands. He tried to wipe his hands on his jacket, but he just ended with even more blood on them. He tried to protest as Jack manhandled him into the passenger seat of the SUV but his voice seemed to have stopped working and all his protests got stuck in his throat. So he let himself be manhandled. He let Jack help him.
The blue lights were on which cast blue shadows across both his and Jack’s faces, making them look ill. Ianto didn’t speak as Jack pulled away from the pavement and carried on towards his flat.
***
Ianto’s hand was shaking as he tried to put the keys in the lock, he wasn’t even sure if it was from exhaustion, adrenaline or both. He could however feel Jack watching him, his neck feeling like it was burning from the gaze, which made his hands shake so much more that he dropped his keys. They clattered to the ground. Closing his eyes he leant his head against the wooden door and hit it, his fist making the door rattle on its hinges. He hit the door several more times before he heard the jangle of the keys being picked up, a warm body was pressed against his back and then the door gave way slightly.
Yet again without prompting Jack had helped him. He half wondered if Jack would have down the same had been one of the others.
“You can leave now I’m home,” Ianto spoke quietly, not stepping into his flat just yet.
“I already told you, I’m not leaving,” Jack replied.
That confused Ianto. Why did Jack want to help? Sure, they sometimes slept together but that was all it was, wasn’t it? He shook his head, well he tried to while leaning against the door. He didn’t need these confusing thoughts.
“Please just leave, Jack.” He wasn’t above begging at this moment in time. His emotions were all over the place so much he wasn’t sure how much control he had left.
“Not gonna happen, Ianto.” The hand was back this time on his shoulder. He felt Jack lean closer to him. “You are in no state to be on your own, let someone take care of you for a change.”
Jack’s breath ghosted across his neck making him shudder. He had learnt several months ago that when Jack was this adamant on something it was pretty pointless to argue with him. Sighing, he finally pushed the door open and walked inside dropping the keys on the hallway table and taking his shoes off just before he stepped into the living room. He hadn’t bothered to turn the lights on; he often walked around his home in the dark. He knew where everything was so he knew he wouldn’t trip over it unlike Jack who could be heard muttering as he stumbled over something else. The room flooded with light when Jack stepped into the room and Ianto was tempted to tell the other man to leave again, but he had very little strength left to argue with the other man.
Ianto had spent the evening mostly in darkness; the alley where Jenny had been had only filled with light once the paramedics had gotten there, the SUV was dark anyway and the small grass patch he had broke down on had no lighting. So for the room to be suddenly filled with bright light, it reminded him of the hospital. He couldn’t quite believe it had only been an hour ago since Jack had come for him or was it two? Had it been two since Jenny had been torn to shreds or three? He couldn’t really recall. His time keeping had been the last thing on his mind as he had held a dying girl. The image of Jenny lying there, blood slowly pooling around her and soaking through his suit came to his mind. He felt his stomach tighten as the memories continued to assault him; blood, the wounds on her chest, her pleads to not tell her mam, her last breath. He didn’t remember moving, but he found himself leaning over the toilet the Chinese take away from the previous day making a not so nice reappearance. His stomach had rebelled against his memories until there was literally nothing left in his stomach.
“Here.” A glass of water was pressed into his hands, as he leant back against the wall next to the toilet. He had forgotten that Jack was still there ‘helping’ him.
Shakily he took a sip of the ice cool water, it actually did sooth his stomach slightly, at least it didn’t feel like he was going to be ill again, but it didn’t help with his memories. He gave Jack a small smile in thanks as he handed the water back. He was shaking and didn’t want to spill it over himself adding to the grime that was already there. Looking down at himself, he felt disgusted at the sight. Blood clung to the bottom of his jacket making it had dried earlier that evening, making the jacket feel stiff.
“Let’s get you cleaned up and then you can rest.” Rest, not sleep. It wasn’t sleep Jack had suggested just resting.
Ianto felt something twist inside of him and he just shut down, he let Jack clean him off. It was strange watching him self being washed down; water turning pink as blood was washed from his hands and even some from his face. But he didn’t feel any of it, it was like he was stood outside watching through a window, there was no sound, no way to feel or touch what was being done. All he could do was watch and wait until Jack had finished. He watched as Jack finally got around to washing the blood of his hands. He watched, fascinated as the blood turned a deeper pink than before; there was some of his own blood mixed in there and not just Jenny’s. He flexed his fingers as though testing to see what hurt. He curled his hand around Jack’s, but he couldn’t feel it, couldn’t feel anything. It was as though the numbness was spreading through him again and he felt cold. He saw as Jack covered his hand with his own and he slowly started feeling heat then.
Looking up he caught the look of worry on Jack’s face, something that he wasn’t really use to seeing being directed at him, not from Jack. He held onto Jack’s hand tighter. The tighter he held it the more he seemed to be able to feel, until he realized that his hand was actually quite sore and he pulled his hand away, the moment broken. Yet it had seemed like something had been opened up between the two of them, some unseen step had been taken and in that moment when Ianto had been holding Jack’s hand he had put into words what he wasn’t and probably never would say. This new development though scared him; it shouldn’t be this easy to…have feelings for someone. Why now? Why had he felt this now when everything had just gone so wrong? What had he done to deserve Jack looking after him?
Ianto stared at Jack for a little while longer before looking away. He couldn’t stand to look at Jack and feel something when Jenny was lying dead in some hospital morgue somewhere, cold and unfeeling. He heard Jack sigh before he was once more being cleaned up.
After Jack had finished cleaning him up, which had included a rather cheeky smile on Jack’s part when Ianto’s shirt had been removed, he found himself stood in front of his bed. He knew that Jack was unsettled by his lack of response to anything and everything, but he couldn’t speak, couldn’t react. Couldn’t do anything.
“Ianto,” began Jack, taking a step towards the Welshman.
“Don’t, please just don’t,” whispered Ianto, moving away from Jack. He couldn’t get comfort not when it wasn’t the right time.
“Ianto you can’t…”
“I said don’t!” snapped Ianto. “Just leave like I asked you to earlier!”
“I was just going to say you can’t sleep in those trousers,” replied Jack, holding a hand up in a peaceful gesture. “Okay, I’ll leave, for now. Goodnight, Ianto.”
Ianto watched as Jack left his bedroom, the door closing with a loud click. Ianto was left in complete darkness, just as he had wanted it, darkness to hide his guilt. He went to the bedroom door, all intention of opening it and calling Jack back, to apologise but he stopped himself. He was not some small child that needed someone to come and look after him. He pushed himself away from the door, his hand lingering slightly as he did so, as though trying as one last ditched attempt to see if Jack was still there or if he had left completely.
Taking the dirtied trousers off and putting them in the hamper, Ianto finally climbed on to his bed. He didn’t bother getting under his covers, he had had no intention of actually going to sleep. Instead he just lay there on his back staring at the chipped paint on the ceiling. When he had first moved back to Cardiff after Canary Wharf, he would often talk to Lisa about what needed fixing in the flat. He had plans to fix it all up so that once she was well again they could live here. Ianto had told her about the ceiling in the bedroom and she had told him to get it sorted straight away. That evening he had gone out and bought a tin of white pain, nothing special just the average tin of paint. The next day the team had discovered Lisa hidden in the basement and his plans had fallen through. He wondered if he still had that tin of paint somewhere in a back cupboard or if it had been thrown out with some of the other stuff? His stomach hurt as he thought back on what had happened. Another death not prevented. Someone else dead because of him. He had called Jack a monster at that time and he’d meant it, but now at this moment in time all he felt was pain, his stomach hurting as he remembered. Rolling onto his side he tugged a pillow to hug it close to himself and closed his eyes, he bit his bottom lip to stop the sobs that were clawing to get out. It was all he could do, as he finally fell into an exhausted slumber, the tears still leaving marks on his face…
Ianto was kneeling on the floor. He had scuffed his hands against the wall as he’d reached to lift the bloodied figure off the floor. At first when he had got to the person, he thought they were dead; the amount of blood on the floor had given him every reason to believe this. It wasn’t until he had moved some of the hair from the person’s face that he realized they were just still breathing; if the small bubbles of blood at the corner of her mouth was anything to go by.
Ianto had partially lifted her on to his knees, not caring that his suit - new on that day - was soaking up the blood from the floor and from her body. With one hand holding the young girl tightly he used the other to brush her black hair from her face, some of it had become matted as the blood had dried and he couldn’t stop the small gasp that escaped him.
He knew who this was - well knew of her - he had chatted to her twice before he had stopped going to the club. He realised he had never asked her for a name. He pulled the girl closer his hands pressing over the wound making her whimper loudly, but he kept the pressure on. His hands became covered in blood in a matter of seconds, the warm sticky flow staining his white skin. He felt his stomach give a small jolt and he could feel bile rise in his throat….
Waking with a jolt Ianto stayed perfectly still, his stomach tying itself in knots over his dream, he kept his mouth firmly closed as well, as though that would prevent him being ill. Slowly he realised that he wasn’t actually alone, but was rather next to a body, a body that hadn’t been next to him when he had fallen to sleep. It took him another few minutes, his stomach finally stopped twisting into strange shapes, before he realized said body was actually Jack. There was a hand running through his sweat-slicked hair and a hand on his back. He was being comforted. He felt a small flare of annoyance at actually needing to be comforted but he didn’t pull away. Once he was breathing normally again, sure his stomach wasn’t going to turn itself inside out and he could actually look at Jack without feeling humiliated, he moved away from the comfort that had been offered and rolled over to face him. It was strange because he could clearly remember telling Jack to leave earlier, the thud of the bedroom door had proved this fact. So why was he here now?
“Jack?” Ianto asked confused. “What are you doing here? Still?” He subconsciously pulled one of the covers closer to himself, feeling rather vulnerable in the position he was in.
“I told you, I wasn’t going to leave you alone,” said Jack. “I know what you’re going through, know how your feeling, Ianto.”
The way Jack was watching him, like nothing else could tear his attention away from Ianto, made him feel uneasy. “Please leave me alone, sir.”
He pulled the bed cover up to his chest, and rolled away from Jack. He didn’t need Jack’s knowing words, didn’t want the comfort that was being so freely given, didn’t want to be placated. He wanted to forget, to close his eyes and shut the world out at least for a few days. It wasn’t fair, this wasn’t meant to happen, he was supposed to be office-support - the tea-boy - not this inexperienced field agent that would have sex with the boss. Ianto felt his heart clench as he thought of Jack, when had lust turned into…well something else? When had he started to care again?
He felt the bed dip before Jack was lying at his back hugging him, arms pulling him closer to the comfort. Normally his and Jack’s ‘relationship’ didn’t really allow for hugs, but it seemed that unspoken step from earlier now meant they could. Ianto closed his eyes. He didn’t want to see Jack’s face and he kept himself as still as possible. If he relaxed, if he let himself feel this would turn into more than just hugging. Yet slowly, very slowly, there was something about the way Jack was hugging him that let Ianto relax slightly. His eyes weren’t as tightly closed as before and the grip on his bed covers relaxed off slightly as he finally, after the nightmare of an evening, managed to fall to sleep without dreaming.