Year of the Cat - Chapter 13
Title: Year of the Cat - Chapter 13
Characters: Jack/Ianto, Gwen, Martha, other canon, some OC
Rating: say M for language and later situations
Spoilers: includes info up to end of season 2.
Disclaimer: Don't own - but wish I did...
Author's Note: Ianto-heavy. That's all. Oh, and candybree , and mrsalemp remain Big Damn Handholders. They deserves cookies or kudos or somesuch. Really, without them, this would NOT continue. Everyone should have such good cheerleaders. I love you guys!
Ianto surveyed the room in front of him - bright blue dresser, sturdy blue racecar bed, sleeping toddler - with a smile before turning to walk out the door. The satisfying click that told him that there would be no playpen in their room that night was almost enough to make him jump up and down like a child on Christmas morning. He and Jack had not had any time to themselves over the past few days, and it was starting to get to Ianto.
Pushing thoughts of anything else from his mind, Ianto flicked on the baby monitor that was sitting on the dresser and went to get a shower. He had the whole night planned out, and he was sure that Jack was going to enjoy every second of it. He had called ahead to have Jack's favorite restaurant deliver and already had his favorite wine at the perfect temperature.
There was a knock at the door and he went to answer, knowing it would be the fettuccine al burro e panna for himself and bistecca alla fiorentina for Jack. They were the best choices on the menu, and he knew the red wine would be a perfect compliment. Smiling, he set about the task of plating it up and putting it in the oven to keep it warm. He could hear the door open and close a few minutes later, so he got the two of them some wine and went to find out how Jack's day had gone. And for all the bitching Ianto had done about staying home with Henry, he had to admit that today had been a great day for the two of them - no worms, no locks, just putting together his 'big boy room'.
“How was your day?” Ianto asked, gliding in with a smile on his face. But his smile was not long-lasting once he saw the man lying on the couch.
Where Ianto had expected to see an exhausted but still happy Jack was a man who looked as though he had been dragged through the fires of hell. His shirt was crusted with what looked like blood. Ianto dropped the wine he had poured for Jack and heard the glass shatter even as he ran to his side.
“Jack! Jack! What happened?” He was pulling the coat away from him, making a note that it would have to be dry cleaned soon or the stains would set.
Jack could only groan; he had used all his energy getting up to the flat and falling on the couch. He was still sore from being shot and the dream of sorts had confused him to no end. He wanted desperately to talk to Ianto, but he didn't have the words for what he felt. “Yan, I...”
Ianto knelt beside the couch, soothing a hand over Jack's forehead. “Don't. Let's get you cleaned up and into bed.” He tried not to sound disappointed as he helped Jack to his feet. “We'll get you into the shower and I'll...” he looked at what Jack was wearing, “Burn these clothes...”
Jack coughed, “Not the coat...” He tried to smile, but it hurt.
Ianto paused in walking the other man. “Don't be an idiot. Not getting rid of the coat.” He wasn't sure, but it sounded like Jack was trying to laugh again. “Did Martha look you over?” He felt Jack nod as he helped him into the bedroom.
“I can't do this by myself,” Jack said even as Ianto was helping him undress. Last pulled off was the wrist strap and the watch. The clothes were a total loss and Jack was going to have some impressive bruises - Ianto reasoned he must have been laying badly when he came back.
After getting Jack into the shower, Ianto went to check on Henry. The boy was still sleeping in the same position that Ianto had left him in, the stuffed pterodactyl Martha had brought him tucked under one arm. At least one of the flat occupants was having a good night. Ianto shut the door and went back in to check on Jack, finding that he had finished his shower and was putting on his pajama pants.
“You hungry?” Ianto asked, watching as Jack tied the strings. “I ord...can fix you some toast.”
Jack shook his head mutely and looked up, the exhaustion apparent in his eyes. “Not hungry.” He fell on the bed, noticing for the first time that the sheets had been pulled back already and the playpen was missing. “Where's Henry?” He sat up quicker than he should have in that moment.
“Relax,” Ianto pushed Jack back on the bed. “We got his bedroom set up today. He's already asleep. You rest.”
Jack looked up at him, trying to bring the younger man into focus, but finding that he was already falling into a dream. “You didn't have something planned, did you?”
Ianto shook his head, bending to kiss Jack on the forehead. “No, nothing. Only sleep. Like you are going to do now.” He was halfway out the door when he heard Jack calling for him. “Yes?”
“I love you.”
“I love you too, Jack.” Ianto closed the door with a sigh and went to clean up the broken glass.
**--**--**
One hour and one bottle of wine later, Ianto was sitting on the couch by himself, listening to the drone of the radio behind him, trying his best not to be mad at Jack. It wasn't his fault - Martha and Gwen could have called him. That they didn't made him more than a little angry. How hard would it have been for the two of them to pick up the phone to call the man that was only practically married to Jack, for Chrissakes? He let the thought stew a bit more, the lyrics of the song that was on sinking into his thoughts.
“I know when it's getting rough all the times we spend trying to make this love something better than just making up again...” Ianto sang with drunken passion. “Dammit!” Draining the last of his glass, he reached for the bottle that was on the table and found it was empty. Ianto let out a sigh and got up to get the other one that was uncorked in the kitchen. There was no sense in letting them go to waste just because the universe had it out for him.
He was pouring the first glass and picking at his dinner when he had a thought. He walked quietly into the bedroom and reached under the bed for a box he hadn't touched for quite some time. It was filled with the things that Ianto had decided he couldn't let go of after Lisa. Carrying it into the living room, he opened it to peek inside. The box remained untouched and he found what he was looking for under a few photos of Lisa when they were on holiday. Taking his prize, he went back in the kitchen for the wine he had been drinking and went out the French doors and into the garden.
Ianto looked down at his hand and the box that he held. It had been well over a year since he had last held it, and was wondering if he still had the lighter tucked inside. He was sure they were stale now, but that was no matter. The nicotine inside would be enough to calm him, he was sure of that. The wine was making his ears buzz in a satisfying manner, but it wasn't enough. Jack had come home after being killed and no one had called him to warn him. He would have thought that Martha would have called. Ianto sighed, feeling like he finally knew his place in Torchwood. And it wasn't what he thought at all.
Sure, it could have been the wine talking, but Ianto wasn't inclined to believe that after the day that he and Jack had had - first separately, and then the lack of night they had had together. Lighting up, Ianto inhaled deeply, letting the first drag - no matter how stale the cigarettes where - take him away from the chaos of the day and into a place he felt safe. After a few puffs, he sat on the bench outside their door and pulled a leg covered by well-worn jeans up to his chest and looped his arm over, allowing the wine glass to dangle a little. He contemplated the hole in his knee that allowed the flesh to barely show through. Picking at a string, he burned a bit off with the cigarette - sipping his wine as he did. He was so intent on this that he didn't hear the footsteps of the person who later startled him, causing the second wine glass of the night to shatter.
“Dammit!” Ianto gasped, jumping up and wiping his now wine-splattered hand on the red v-neck t-shirt he was wearing. “What the hell do you mean doing that?!” His hand instinctively went for his gun, not remembering that he hadn't worn it in almost a week.
“Calm down, Ianto,” a familiar voice soothed as she stepped from the shadow. “I just came to check on Jack.”
The Welshman fell back onto the bench a little harder than he meant to, reaching for the bottle that sat to the side. “Jack's sleeping.” He took a long draw before offering the drink to the visitor. “You want some?”
“No,” she answered, giving him a smile. “Having an early night then?”
“You could say that.” Ianto lifted the cigarette and puffed. “But not by choice.”
There was shock in the next question. “Are you smoking?”
Ianto shook his head, exhaling. “No, the cigarette is.” His answer was flippant and dripped with the sarcasm that he was known for. Any other time, it might have been endearing; now, it was almost alarming. “Are you done with your line of questioning, Gwen? Am I free to go?”
“Ianto, what is going on?” She sat beside him on the bench, glancing back at the car as she did so.
“I should ask you the same fucking thing.” He punctuated the statement with another drink.
Gwen tilted her head in confusion. “What does that mean?”
“Nice job fucking calling me when my...” Ianto searched for just the word to tell her how much Jack meant to him, as it was clear that she didn't understand, “...my...shit, Gwen, what should I call him? Boyfriend? We aren't in school. Lover? It's more than that. What, Gwen? What do I call Jack? What is he to me?”
“I don't know, sweetheart.” Gwen's voice was sympathetic. “Call him what you want to.”
“But, that's the problem - I don't know what to call him. I know how I feel about him, but I don't know how he feels about me.”
“You do though. We all do.”
“Do we? Do you?” He contemplated the ash.
“Yes, Ianto. He may not say it, but...”
Ianto snorted and took a long drag to finish off the cigarette. "You know, Gwen, you have the most beautiful black eyes."
She was startled by the compliment. "Thanks - but they're hazel."
Ianto laughed deep in his throat before leaning so close their noses were almost touching. "You keep flirting with Jack and they will be black." He straightened up and flicked the butt into the night.
“Ianto, it's not like that...”
“Then quit acting like it is. You think I don't see it? The way you watch him walk by?” He smiled a little. “I'm not always watching him - I can do that anytime.”
Gwen changed the subject. “When did you start smoking?”
“When I was young.” His voice was clipped and he lit another, blowing the smoke out in rings this time. “It keeps me calm.”
“Does Jack know?”
Ianto turned his head to glare at her. “No. And he won't find out.”
She took the hint. “Right.”
There was silence for a moment as the two of them thought of what to say to one another. Ianto was the first one to get the words out. “Why didn't you call?”
“I tried Jack's cell and the comm, no answer.” Gwen was twisting her hands in her lap. “Figured he had gone home to you.”
“Not like the two of you did anything to help him out.”
“We were out there too - tracking whatever it was. Never found it, by the way.” She leaned back and crossed her arms on her chest, crossing her legs at the ankles. “Second time in as many days that we have had to call a cab, by the way. Might want to think about getting an expense account for Torchwood.”
“What are you talking about?” Ianto shifted to face her, suddenly feeling very sober.
“Jack. He left us behind both days. What's going on?”
“Gwen, you didn't see Jack after you all went out to search?”
“No.”
“Martha didn't look him over?”
“How would she? Ianto, Jack never came back to the Hub.”
Ianto was up off the bench in a flash. “That son of a bitch!”
“Ianto, what is going on? Talk to me.”
“No, Gwen, I am very angry right now. I have some things to take care of.” He ran his hand through his hair and took a deep breath.
“Is there anything I can do?” Gwen stood to put a hand on his arm, but he pulled away.
“Not unless you wanna hang around and blow me. Oh wait, it's Jack you're after, not me.” He waited for the look on her face to fade. “I suggest you leave - go home to Rhys - you know, your husband?" He was in the flat and locking the door before she could say anything else.
Gwen shrugged back at Martha, who was waiting in the car before joining her.
**--**--**
Ianto stumbled toward the couch, cursing under his breath. Out of the corner of his eye, he spied the busted comm unit lying on the side table. He hated himself for not seeing it when he first came in the room, but reasoned that he hadn't been looking for it. In his mind, however, there was no excuse. Ianto should have been on his guard, heard that Jack's footsteps were not the same tired ones he had after a hard day of work. He felt like he had failed the other man. He felt like he should have known. He lashed out at the broken comm, swiping at it, but managed to knock over a bowl that held their keys, causing it to shatter. Ianto cursed louder as he bent to pick up the mess.
He had managed to gather the biggest pieces when the fact that he had been drinking asserted itself again, the room began to move a little and he put his hand on the floor to steady himself. He got his equilibrium back shortly, but his hand began to hurt. Ianto looked down to find a smaller shard stuck in his hand, a little blood welling up around the puncture. “FUCKITY SHIT!” The words pierced the air before Ianto could stop it. He clapped the hand that wasn't injured over his mouth, but he was too late.
Henry was crying now, the soft cry of someone who was fighting with themselves over the choice of waking or sleeping. Picking the bit of glass out and yanking the shirt over his head to use as a makeshift bandage, Ianto sighed and got up to check on the boy.
Henry was twisted in his sheets, calling out for his mother. Ianto lay down beside him in his new bed and stroked the hair back from his forehead, humming softly. Within minutes, both of them were asleep.