Ianto´s heart
Title: Ianto´s heart, chapter 5 / 7
Fandom: Torchwood
Disclaimer: Not mine, belongs to RTD and BBC. I just like to play with them.
Notes/spoilers: Story is set between "Cyberwoman" and "Small worlds".
Summary: Ianto is struggling with the loss of his girlfriend.
Beta: Many thanks to the fantastic help of veritas6_5
Word count: 1031
Warnings: It´s getting worse...
Chapter five
Ianto sat on the side of the bed with his head in his hands and elbows on knees. He felt so heavy. He cried. He just wanted a normal life, a normal job, normal friends. Meet a nice girl someday perhaps. “No,” he thought, “I’ll never find anyone like Lisa anyway.”
He couldn’t stop an anguished howl from rising out of his throat. Once it was over, his head felt a little clearer. He picked up the phone and rang work to call in sick. The girl in reception was sympathetic, said she could hear he had the sniffles and wished him a speedy recovery.
He crawled back into bed and under the duvet, and decided not to fight against the despair. He wept until his pillow was soaked. He thought about Lisa’s body and how her skin had felt against his. He thought about Jack’s strong arms around him. He felt shame and guilt about all the deception he’d put everyone through. He felt mixed up. Lisa and Jack. Jack and Lisa. Both of them had relied on him and he had failed them both, miserably. He loved Lisa but somehow, somewhere along the line he had fallen for Jack too. He hadn’t counted on that. He felt like a total failure. He’d made his own hell and now he had to live in it. The thought of a long and totally loveless life made him go numb and still. The tears subsided and, almost like a sleepwalker, he got up, took a shower, and ate some breakfast. It was only nine o’clock and he saw the day stretched out in front of him, long and empty. He felt an overwhelming need to talk to someone, anyone.
He thought about what it was like when his mum had died. He had been only eight years old. He remembered a priest, Father Mulligan, had come to visit them a few of times after the funeral. He was a nice and friendly man and Ianto had liked him. That old memory was what led him to the decision to go and visit his local church. He had never been a choirboy, and his few childhood beliefs had faded even further in his teens. After he started working for Torchwood, seeing all those aliens and other things, he had lost the last shred of religion he ever had, but he still wanted to think of the church as some kind of haven.
~~
Ianto opened the big heavy door and stepped inside of the church. A feeling of reverence came over him. He glanced up at the painted ceiling above and then walked slowly and quietly down the center aisle. The church was almost empty, just a couple of old ladies praying side-by-side in one of the pews. He walked to the altar and looked up at the crucifix hanging on the wall. That beautiful male form. He’d never thought about the actual physical beauty of the Savior before. A fleeting sense of worldly desire flew through his mind. He turned away and decided to light a candle for Lisa.
He glanced over to the confessional, and even though he felt plenty of guilt, it was out of the question for him to go in there. He wouldn’t be able to tell lies there, and he knew he was going to have to lie about too many things. About how Lisa had died, about Torchwood, about Jack and the Hub. He sat down and waited for the priest to come out. It took twenty minutes.
The priest was a man in his fifties, tall and slim, dark-haired with some grey streaks.
“Excuse me, Father,” Ianto stood up. “My name is Ianto Jones, and I was wondering…” he hesitated, “I think… is it possible for me to talk to you for a little bit?”
The priest smiled reassuringly.
“Of course, my son, I’m Father Reynolds. We can talk in the vestry. Walk with me.”
Ianto was offered a cup of coffee but he declined it, and the men sat down on chairs opposite one another.
“How can I help you, Ianto?” the priest asked.
“Well… I recently suffered a great loss. My girlfriend died.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that.”
“And sometimes I feel like my whole world has collapsed.” A lump started to build in Ianto’s throat. He had never been very good at talking to anyone about his feelings. “I don’t know how to get through this.”
“God will show you a way, my son. Can you tell me how she passed away?” Ianto searched his brain for a plausible explanation that would still be close to the truth.
“Cancer,” he said, “she was sick for a long time before she died. I really, really loved her but… in the meantime…” He drew a deep breath, “I’m afraid I fell for someone else.” He couldn’t hold the tears back any longer.
“I see. And now you feel guilty?”
“Yeah,” he nodded.
“Did anything happen between you and this other woman?” The priest asked and Ianto looked at him, feeling slightly puzzled for a second.
“Oh… erm, no… it wasn’t…” he stopped himself. He realized that if he admitted that the other woman was, in fact, a man, he wouldn’t be met with any sort of acceptance or forgiveness here. He looked at the priest’s collar. This was after all one of the core issues for the Roman Catholic Church. Coming here was a mistake. Something in the back of his mind called out to him, something deeply buried. An old memory. Something sickening. But he couldn’t quite reach it.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Father, I can’t talk…” Ianto got up and wiped away his tears with the back of his hand as he headed for the door.
“Wait, wait, I hope I didn’t sound judgmental in asking. Things like that can happen, you seek comfort when you are hurting, and then…”
“It’s not like that. I have to go.”
“Come back any time you want, my son!” the priest called after Ianto as he quickly left the rectory. Ianto was feeling nauseous, like he was just about to throw up. Something utterly sinister was coming to surface.
Fandom: Torchwood
Disclaimer: Not mine, belongs to RTD and BBC. I just like to play with them.
Notes/spoilers: Story is set between "Cyberwoman" and "Small worlds".
Summary: Ianto is struggling with the loss of his girlfriend.
Beta: Many thanks to the fantastic help of veritas6_5
Word count: 1031
Warnings: It´s getting worse...
Chapter five
Ianto sat on the side of the bed with his head in his hands and elbows on knees. He felt so heavy. He cried. He just wanted a normal life, a normal job, normal friends. Meet a nice girl someday perhaps. “No,” he thought, “I’ll never find anyone like Lisa anyway.”
He couldn’t stop an anguished howl from rising out of his throat. Once it was over, his head felt a little clearer. He picked up the phone and rang work to call in sick. The girl in reception was sympathetic, said she could hear he had the sniffles and wished him a speedy recovery.
He crawled back into bed and under the duvet, and decided not to fight against the despair. He wept until his pillow was soaked. He thought about Lisa’s body and how her skin had felt against his. He thought about Jack’s strong arms around him. He felt shame and guilt about all the deception he’d put everyone through. He felt mixed up. Lisa and Jack. Jack and Lisa. Both of them had relied on him and he had failed them both, miserably. He loved Lisa but somehow, somewhere along the line he had fallen for Jack too. He hadn’t counted on that. He felt like a total failure. He’d made his own hell and now he had to live in it. The thought of a long and totally loveless life made him go numb and still. The tears subsided and, almost like a sleepwalker, he got up, took a shower, and ate some breakfast. It was only nine o’clock and he saw the day stretched out in front of him, long and empty. He felt an overwhelming need to talk to someone, anyone.
He thought about what it was like when his mum had died. He had been only eight years old. He remembered a priest, Father Mulligan, had come to visit them a few of times after the funeral. He was a nice and friendly man and Ianto had liked him. That old memory was what led him to the decision to go and visit his local church. He had never been a choirboy, and his few childhood beliefs had faded even further in his teens. After he started working for Torchwood, seeing all those aliens and other things, he had lost the last shred of religion he ever had, but he still wanted to think of the church as some kind of haven.
~~
Ianto opened the big heavy door and stepped inside of the church. A feeling of reverence came over him. He glanced up at the painted ceiling above and then walked slowly and quietly down the center aisle. The church was almost empty, just a couple of old ladies praying side-by-side in one of the pews. He walked to the altar and looked up at the crucifix hanging on the wall. That beautiful male form. He’d never thought about the actual physical beauty of the Savior before. A fleeting sense of worldly desire flew through his mind. He turned away and decided to light a candle for Lisa.
He glanced over to the confessional, and even though he felt plenty of guilt, it was out of the question for him to go in there. He wouldn’t be able to tell lies there, and he knew he was going to have to lie about too many things. About how Lisa had died, about Torchwood, about Jack and the Hub. He sat down and waited for the priest to come out. It took twenty minutes.
The priest was a man in his fifties, tall and slim, dark-haired with some grey streaks.
“Excuse me, Father,” Ianto stood up. “My name is Ianto Jones, and I was wondering…” he hesitated, “I think… is it possible for me to talk to you for a little bit?”
The priest smiled reassuringly.
“Of course, my son, I’m Father Reynolds. We can talk in the vestry. Walk with me.”
Ianto was offered a cup of coffee but he declined it, and the men sat down on chairs opposite one another.
“How can I help you, Ianto?” the priest asked.
“Well… I recently suffered a great loss. My girlfriend died.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that.”
“And sometimes I feel like my whole world has collapsed.” A lump started to build in Ianto’s throat. He had never been very good at talking to anyone about his feelings. “I don’t know how to get through this.”
“God will show you a way, my son. Can you tell me how she passed away?” Ianto searched his brain for a plausible explanation that would still be close to the truth.
“Cancer,” he said, “she was sick for a long time before she died. I really, really loved her but… in the meantime…” He drew a deep breath, “I’m afraid I fell for someone else.” He couldn’t hold the tears back any longer.
“I see. And now you feel guilty?”
“Yeah,” he nodded.
“Did anything happen between you and this other woman?” The priest asked and Ianto looked at him, feeling slightly puzzled for a second.
“Oh… erm, no… it wasn’t…” he stopped himself. He realized that if he admitted that the other woman was, in fact, a man, he wouldn’t be met with any sort of acceptance or forgiveness here. He looked at the priest’s collar. This was after all one of the core issues for the Roman Catholic Church. Coming here was a mistake. Something in the back of his mind called out to him, something deeply buried. An old memory. Something sickening. But he couldn’t quite reach it.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Father, I can’t talk…” Ianto got up and wiped away his tears with the back of his hand as he headed for the door.
“Wait, wait, I hope I didn’t sound judgmental in asking. Things like that can happen, you seek comfort when you are hurting, and then…”
“It’s not like that. I have to go.”
“Come back any time you want, my son!” the priest called after Ianto as he quickly left the rectory. Ianto was feeling nauseous, like he was just about to throw up. Something utterly sinister was coming to surface.