In Sickness and in Health (15/?)
This chapter was a nightmare to write; but three attempts later, I think it came out ok:)
“Tosh, what was that about earlier?” asked Gwen as Tosh came back into the main Hub.
“Nothing. Why?” asked Tosh as she returned to her computer.
“It’s just, one minute Jack’s in his office pretending to work and the next thing I know, he’s sprinting across here at 90 miles an hour!” said Gwen, turning to face the technician.
“Well you know what Jack’s like; has to show off at the smallest of opportunities,” said Tosh distractedly as she called up various documents.
“Anyone for coffee?” asked Ianto, providing a welcome distraction.
“Please....Ianto, do you know what earlier was about?” called Gwen, causing the young Welshman to pause and turn to face her.
“No. Why? What happened earlier?” asked Ianto as he came over to the two women.
“Jack went running across the Hub looking like he wanted to kill something. It was around about the time Tosh came down to you,” said Gwen as she noticed how still Ianto had gone.
“Why...don’t you being up the CCTV?” suggested Ianto quietly.
“Ianto, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” said Tosh tactfully, having a terrible feeling that the inevitable was about to happen.
“Why?” asked Ianto softly as he turned to face her and Tosh could tell that he knew; from the moment she’d come into the Archives, he’d known.
“Because your Dad came into the Tourist Office,” she said awkwardly, fiddling with the hem of her top to avoid his eye.
“He was drunk wasn’t he?” stated Ianto.
Tosh nodded.
“What did he do?” asked Ianto resignatedly, sounding as if he already knew the answer, he was just asking in the vain hope that he was wrong.
“He came in...and was asking for you so I....called Jack,” said Tosh quietly.
“I see.”
“Hang on a minute, I thought your Dad was a master tailor?” asked Gwen, breaking the spell as Ianto turned to face her, barely contained emotion in his eyes.
“My father never was a master tailor, he was a miner in the Valleys...he got sacked during the strikes and has never worked since,” he said wearily as if he didn’t have the energy to pretend any longer.
“So why d’you lie?” asked Gwen gently, aiming for diplomacy and failing miserably.
“I didn’t...I didn’t lie; I just...pretended that’s all; I pretended my friend’s dad was my own because I wanted to feel like I was worth something to someone,” said Ianto quietly.
“Oh Sweetheart, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know,” said Gwen, her hands covering her mouth in shock.
“I don’t want your pity, Gwen, I just want you to understand,” said Ianto curtly.
“I do understand, Sweetheart,”
“No you don’t. No you don’t, Gwen. How could you with your perfect life and perfect parents? All you see is a pathetic, weak-“
“Ianto, calm down,” said Jack as he came in, having been fetched by Owen who was also standing on the outskirts of the group.
“No! I am sick and tired of being perfect, loyal, dependable, walk all over him Ianto. That person doesn’t exist! And neither does the victim! I’ve spent so long pretending to be someone I’m not that I don’t know who I am anymore and why? Because of some drunk who can’t even spell his own name half the time, what does that say about me, hmm?” asked Ianto, looking around at the stunned group as the damn that had held everything in place for so long started to overflow.
“Ianto, why don’t we go into my office and we can talk properly, hmm?” suggested Jack as he edged towards him, knowing the combination of exhaustion, illness and emotion would make the young man unreachable but he had to try.
“That’s all we ever do, Jack; talk and I’ve had enough, I’m going home, you do what you want,” said Ianto wearily.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Ianto,” said Jack warily.
“Jack, he’s gonna find me whether I’m at home or work and quite frankly, I just don’t care any more,” said Ianto firmly as he left, leaving a stunned silence in his wake.
“Well...that went well,” muttered Owen.
Jack just glared at him as he flopped down on the couch.
“He’ll be alright, Jack,” said Tosh.
Jack sighed, “I wish I had your faith, Tosh.”
As Ianto ran up the stairs to his flat, he was greeted with the sight of his father sitting in the doorway.
“Go away,” said Ianto.
“I met your boyfriend again today,” slurred the older man as he hauled himself up and staggered over.
“I don’t care. Now go away,” said Ianto firmly, causing anger to flare up in the drunk.
“What makes you think you’re so high and mighty? You don’t get to dictate what I do!” snarled the man, using his larger size to back Ianto against the wall. “Look at you in your posh suit; do you charge extra for that?” he sneered as he grabbed Ianto’s wrists, causing him to whimper in pain.
“Ooh, what do we have here?” said the man in fake joy as he pushed Ianto’s sleeves up roughly, causing the buttons to pop off as he surveyed his handiwork with a look akin to pride.
“Get off me!” pleaded Ianto, panicking as he tried to extract himself from his father’s grip and failed.
“But you bruise so well,” leered the older man, trailing his finger along Ianto’s jaw almost tenderly as he staggered closer, the stench of alcohol overpowering.
“You will never get rid of me. I own you and I will do as I wish. No jumped up Yank is gonna tell me otherwise,” he hissed in Ianto’s ear, making his first mistake.
“It was that jumped up Yank that kicked you out of the Tourist Office though, wasn’t it?” murmured Ianto, clinging onto the idea for all he was worth.
“Shut up,” growled his father, his hand wrapping round Ianto’s throat threateningly; his second mistake.
“It was that jumped up Yank that kicked you out of my flat the other day though wasn’t it?”
“Only ‘cos you were too weak,” growled the man, his grip tightening as he banged Ianto’s head against the wall.
“He wasn’t though was he? That’s why you hate him isn’t it? Not ‘cos he’s gay but because he’s better than you and you know it,” choked Ianto, pushing back against his Father’s greater weight.
“You-“ snarled the older man as he swung his fist back.
“No!” shouted Ianto as he panicked and used his father’s temporarily weakened grip on him to push him away. The man stumbled, fell backwards and landed unconscious at the bottom of the stone steps, blood pooling round his head.
http://welsh-scotsman.livejournal.com/11403.html chapter sixteen
“Tosh, what was that about earlier?” asked Gwen as Tosh came back into the main Hub.
“Nothing. Why?” asked Tosh as she returned to her computer.
“It’s just, one minute Jack’s in his office pretending to work and the next thing I know, he’s sprinting across here at 90 miles an hour!” said Gwen, turning to face the technician.
“Well you know what Jack’s like; has to show off at the smallest of opportunities,” said Tosh distractedly as she called up various documents.
“Anyone for coffee?” asked Ianto, providing a welcome distraction.
“Please....Ianto, do you know what earlier was about?” called Gwen, causing the young Welshman to pause and turn to face her.
“No. Why? What happened earlier?” asked Ianto as he came over to the two women.
“Jack went running across the Hub looking like he wanted to kill something. It was around about the time Tosh came down to you,” said Gwen as she noticed how still Ianto had gone.
“Why...don’t you being up the CCTV?” suggested Ianto quietly.
“Ianto, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” said Tosh tactfully, having a terrible feeling that the inevitable was about to happen.
“Why?” asked Ianto softly as he turned to face her and Tosh could tell that he knew; from the moment she’d come into the Archives, he’d known.
“Because your Dad came into the Tourist Office,” she said awkwardly, fiddling with the hem of her top to avoid his eye.
“He was drunk wasn’t he?” stated Ianto.
Tosh nodded.
“What did he do?” asked Ianto resignatedly, sounding as if he already knew the answer, he was just asking in the vain hope that he was wrong.
“He came in...and was asking for you so I....called Jack,” said Tosh quietly.
“I see.”
“Hang on a minute, I thought your Dad was a master tailor?” asked Gwen, breaking the spell as Ianto turned to face her, barely contained emotion in his eyes.
“My father never was a master tailor, he was a miner in the Valleys...he got sacked during the strikes and has never worked since,” he said wearily as if he didn’t have the energy to pretend any longer.
“So why d’you lie?” asked Gwen gently, aiming for diplomacy and failing miserably.
“I didn’t...I didn’t lie; I just...pretended that’s all; I pretended my friend’s dad was my own because I wanted to feel like I was worth something to someone,” said Ianto quietly.
“Oh Sweetheart, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know,” said Gwen, her hands covering her mouth in shock.
“I don’t want your pity, Gwen, I just want you to understand,” said Ianto curtly.
“I do understand, Sweetheart,”
“No you don’t. No you don’t, Gwen. How could you with your perfect life and perfect parents? All you see is a pathetic, weak-“
“Ianto, calm down,” said Jack as he came in, having been fetched by Owen who was also standing on the outskirts of the group.
“No! I am sick and tired of being perfect, loyal, dependable, walk all over him Ianto. That person doesn’t exist! And neither does the victim! I’ve spent so long pretending to be someone I’m not that I don’t know who I am anymore and why? Because of some drunk who can’t even spell his own name half the time, what does that say about me, hmm?” asked Ianto, looking around at the stunned group as the damn that had held everything in place for so long started to overflow.
“Ianto, why don’t we go into my office and we can talk properly, hmm?” suggested Jack as he edged towards him, knowing the combination of exhaustion, illness and emotion would make the young man unreachable but he had to try.
“That’s all we ever do, Jack; talk and I’ve had enough, I’m going home, you do what you want,” said Ianto wearily.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Ianto,” said Jack warily.
“Jack, he’s gonna find me whether I’m at home or work and quite frankly, I just don’t care any more,” said Ianto firmly as he left, leaving a stunned silence in his wake.
“Well...that went well,” muttered Owen.
Jack just glared at him as he flopped down on the couch.
“He’ll be alright, Jack,” said Tosh.
Jack sighed, “I wish I had your faith, Tosh.”
As Ianto ran up the stairs to his flat, he was greeted with the sight of his father sitting in the doorway.
“Go away,” said Ianto.
“I met your boyfriend again today,” slurred the older man as he hauled himself up and staggered over.
“I don’t care. Now go away,” said Ianto firmly, causing anger to flare up in the drunk.
“What makes you think you’re so high and mighty? You don’t get to dictate what I do!” snarled the man, using his larger size to back Ianto against the wall. “Look at you in your posh suit; do you charge extra for that?” he sneered as he grabbed Ianto’s wrists, causing him to whimper in pain.
“Ooh, what do we have here?” said the man in fake joy as he pushed Ianto’s sleeves up roughly, causing the buttons to pop off as he surveyed his handiwork with a look akin to pride.
“Get off me!” pleaded Ianto, panicking as he tried to extract himself from his father’s grip and failed.
“But you bruise so well,” leered the older man, trailing his finger along Ianto’s jaw almost tenderly as he staggered closer, the stench of alcohol overpowering.
“You will never get rid of me. I own you and I will do as I wish. No jumped up Yank is gonna tell me otherwise,” he hissed in Ianto’s ear, making his first mistake.
“It was that jumped up Yank that kicked you out of the Tourist Office though, wasn’t it?” murmured Ianto, clinging onto the idea for all he was worth.
“Shut up,” growled his father, his hand wrapping round Ianto’s throat threateningly; his second mistake.
“It was that jumped up Yank that kicked you out of my flat the other day though wasn’t it?”
“Only ‘cos you were too weak,” growled the man, his grip tightening as he banged Ianto’s head against the wall.
“He wasn’t though was he? That’s why you hate him isn’t it? Not ‘cos he’s gay but because he’s better than you and you know it,” choked Ianto, pushing back against his Father’s greater weight.
“You-“ snarled the older man as he swung his fist back.
“No!” shouted Ianto as he panicked and used his father’s temporarily weakened grip on him to push him away. The man stumbled, fell backwards and landed unconscious at the bottom of the stone steps, blood pooling round his head.
http://welsh-scotsman.livejournal.com/11403.html chapter sixteen