Will My Arms Be Strong Enough 8/45
Title: Will My Arms Be Strong Enough? 8/45
Pairings: Jack/Ianto, Gwen/Rhys...and others!
Characters: Jack, Ianto, Gwen, Rhys, John Hart, two OC's, Andrea (Andie) Carlowe and Nick Jones.
Spoilers: Set after Exit Wounds.
Summary: Ianto buries his father.
Chapter 8
Ten days later…
It seemed fittingly ironic, Ianto thought as he stumbled out of the shower, that the day of his father’s funeral should have dawned to be so dreary. There had been no rain forecast, but huge dark clouds hung over the houses, shrouding them in what felt like a cloak of death. Even the steamed-up bathroom felt cold as he re-opened the blinds. Sighing, he stepped blindly into his dressing gown and stumbled out of the bathroom.
Unfortunately, he had forgotten to close the door behind him and, barely seconds later, an ear-splitting shriek surrounded him. Panicked, Ianto looked around for something to wave at the smoke alarm, but, when he found nothing, moved to open the window. Instantly, a gust of ice-cold wind blasted through the room, freezing him to the bones. Quickly, he shut it again and stepped back, only to collapse backwards into a familiar pair of arms.
He shivered. “I’m sorry…I just…I forgot to shut the door,” he muttered, feeling the shivering taper away. The shrieking sound had been silenced.
Jack shushed him and turned him round for a hug. “Hey, it’s okay,” he soothed, running his fingers through his partner’s hair and pressing his lips to his forehead as he held him for a few minutes. “I’m here.”
He waited for Ianto to stop shivering and then tilted his chin back to look at him. “Come on, let’s get you dressed.”
In hindsight, Ianto would be profoundly embarrassed at the way that he had let Jack dress him as if he were a young child. But at the time, he wasn’t really aware of anything at all and just let it happen. He didn’t even remember getting down the stairs, but he must have done, because the next thing he remembered was sitting stiffly in the front of the SUV, Jack’s hand occasionally squeezing his own.
~*~
The walk wasn’t particularly long, but the coffin was rather heavy, even with six men holding it. Unlike his son, Carson Jones was a rather thickset man with strong muscles and heavy bones. He had also wanted to have his pine coffin lined with thick fabrics, just as things had been in the days when he and his brothers, Evan and Steven, had worked in their tailors shop.
However, unlike his father, uncle and cousins, Nick didn’t notice the weight that they carried. His mind was constantly drifting; one moment he would be recalling what he had thought were long dead memories from his childhood, and then the next he would be recalling his uncle giving him away on his wedding day…he remembered the births of his children…his wedding anniversary and the huge party that had been held…the day he graduated from medical school…and then his father returning home after all those years…
He felt almost ashamed to admit it, especially considering that, at twenty-four, he was hardly a child anymore, but when Alison had led his father into their apartment, Nick had barely felt anything for him at all. He had barely even recognised the man as his father. Even now, even after they had spent some time together, all he could muster was a vague affection for him.
But with Carson, it was different…the man had been the only father he knew throughout his entire life and he had cared deeply for him…laughed with him…cried with him…loved him.
He turned slightly to his right and, in the midst of the haze his mind was in, saw Ianto, staring straight ahead, his jaw firmly set. The only hints at his true emotions were the way his teeth occasionally appeared, nibbling slightly at his bottom lip and the slight mist over his eyes. He didn’t even seem aware of Jack’s hand stroking his shoulder.
Suddenly, and for no apparent reason, Nick felt a burning anger blaze through his heart as he watched his cousin - well, really, the man was practically his brother; they had lived under the same roof for over twenty years - forcing his emotions back, refusing to show that he was upset. Why was he acting so cold? Did he really care that much what everyone else thought about him? Even Jack looked more upset than Ianto did - and he barely knew the dead man, for God’s sake!
A hand on his shoulder suddenly distracted him and he turned slightly to see John Hart standing next to him, watching him closely. He seemed to want to say something, but the words wouldn’t come. He struggled for a few moments, but eventually turned back towards the front, though the hand tightened its grip on his shoulder. Behind him, he heard his youngest cousin, James (who was barely twenty-three) let out a loud sob. His heart burned; James had barely even known Carson and yet, even without looking at him, Nick could tell that the young man was more distressed than their uncle’s own son.
~*~
The coffin sat on the raised platform in the chapel, now covered in a sheet of white velvet with red and green flowers on top forming the shape of the Welsh dragon walking across a strip of grass. A young priest, probably not much older than James himself, was speaking, but the words were lost in the atmosphere of the situation, until the final sentence.
“And now, to read the legacy of love, the two members of his family who were closest to Carson, and who he wanted to speak out on this tragic day. I call upon his son, Ianto Jones, and his nephew and adopted son, Nick Jones.”
Jack gave Ianto’s hand a reassuring squeeze, but Ianto barely noticed as he stumbled to his feet and almost blindly made his way up to the front. He barely even seemed to notice Nick beside him and when he looked up, it was like he wasn’t seeing anything in front of him. Even when he spoke, his voice seemed totally wooden. It was as if he couldn’t even comprehend what had happened enough to be able to grieve at all. His eyes were wet with unshed tears and there was an odd tremor in his mouth on occasions, but other than that, his face was expressionless - almost dead. On his other side, Nick’s face was a picture of heartbreak and, when he took his turn to speak, his voice was almost completely broken. It looked to the entire world as though he wanted to cry, but…the tears just wouldn’t fall.
Cautiously, Jack turned to look at John and was struck to see that, if only for a moment, his former partner had a look of utter devastation on his face, directly similar to the one that he knew would be on his own.
And then, in that exact moment, Jack finally knew the real reason why John Hart had agreed so readily to come to the funeral.
~*~
Once the coffin had been lowered into the ground and all the closest relatives had scattered soil and flowers on top of it, everyone began to slowly drift away and make their way to Catrin’s house, where the wake was going to be held. Eventually, only Jack and Ianto were left, Ianto standing at the side of the grave and Jack stroking his hand gently.
“Come on,” he said gently, “we can’t stand here all day.”
“Can’t we?” Ianto’s voice still sounded dead. “Can’t we, really?”
Jack watched him for a few minutes. “Ianto, we’ve got to go. Everyone’s waiting for you. And besides, it’ll be better for you to be with your family than to be on your own at a time like this.”
Ianto shrugged. “Okay.”
“Hey,” Jack turned to look at him. “We don’t have to stay long. We’ll just have a drink, mingle with the family and then I’ll take you home and make love to you all night. That’s a promise. We won’t stay for any longer than a couple of hours, if you don’t want to.”
For a moment, Ianto’s mask slipped and Jack saw for himself the sheer distress his partner was in. He was about to reach out and stroke his hair, when Ianto stepped back slightly, pulling the collar of his coat up around his mouth.
“Come on then,” he said. “Let’s go.”
***
Next Time: The wake is held, but tempers get frayed. Later, while trying to accept some comfort, Nick receives news that shakes his world.