afternoon of 3/3
None of the things in Ianto's life have made much sense since the day they woke up in the Hub's conference room after having retconed two days out of their own memories. There's Owen and the cardigans, yes, but things with Jack became infinitely more complex, complex in a way that he's sometimes not sure he can handle.
Jack is immortal and alternately brilliant and thick as anything. He's gorgeous and flirty and mysterious and has traveled through both time and space. In a million years, years that Jack has, Ianto would not have pictured Jack courting him. He couldn't imagine Jack taking time and care and acting like they were a normal couple, like they didn't fight aliens all day. Like Ianto didn't live with a former co-worker that was slowly losing his mind.
He thinks of this, abruptly, when he puts his head on his desk and closes his eyes, only to almost instantaneously feel Jack's hands kneading his shoulders. He wants to look up, to make sure Tosh and Gwen aren't around and watching, but he's too tired, suddenly, to move. He doesn't remember these things happening with his mother all those years ago, but he can imagine them. It was foolish to get complacent, no matter how good the past week had been, arguments, break-ups, and drunken conversations notwithstanding.
"What's up?" Jack asks.
"Nothing," Ianto insists, though it's obvious Jack won't believe him for a moment. He has to try.
"Is it Owen?" Jack asks. As if anything else weighs this heavily on Ianto these days.
"He's...." Ianto starts to say, but he trails off. This he really doesn't want to talk about in front of the girls. Slowly and cautiously he sits up, glancing around to make sure the Hub is empty.
"Gwen's up in the tourist office talking to Andy about something," Jack says. "Tosh is down making an adjustment to the generator." His hands are still on Ianto's shoulders, not rubbing anymore, but sitting lightly, his thumb stroking the back of Ianto's neck. "Now, what's going on?"
Ianto closes his eyes.
"Owen's... hearing things," he says quietly. "Whispers, he says. It's... well. It's not unmanageable with an adjustment to his medication, but it's not... good."
"He's getting worse," Jack surmises. Ianto just nods.
"We don't know exactly what's wrong with him," Ianto says. "No one does. We've never... this has never happened before. Not in Cardiff and not in London, from what I can gather. But the symptoms... they're a bit too familiar. He's made an appointment with his doctor for tomorrow and I think I know what she's going to say."
Jack squeezes his shoulders. "I'm sorry," he says.
Ianto does not say that it's not Jack's fault. He's not entirely sure it would be the truth, and they're both aware of that.
"I might... I mean, if there's nothing pressing... he hasn't said anything, but I'll see if he'd like me to go with him. If I can." He tips his head back to look up at Jack, but has to look away again almost immediately. He doesn't know what to do with himself when Jack looks at him like that.
"Of course," Jack says. "As long as it's quiet. I know he wouldn't want me there, but if you need anything afterward, you'll come find me."
It's not a question. Normally, Ianto would be put off by that, by Jack's assumption that Ianto will come to him, by Jack's apparent order that Ianto come to him, but the concern Jack is showing trumps Ianto's ire. It's been a recurring theme since Owen's transformation. Jack is just... there. Jack Harkness, time and space traveler, immortal alien fighter, has time and again encouraged him to sit down and talk and unload. Jack Harkness, Cardiff's very own superhero, has made it his personal mission to make sure that Ianto is okay.
Ianto loves Jack, but it's almost too much.
"Why are you doing this?" he asks quietly. It's not an accusation. Ianto has to know.
He expects Jack will feign ignorance, will ask Ianto what he means or change the subject or give a flip reply.
"Because someone has to," Jack says, "and you're not. I ignored you when you were hurting once before. I learned my lesson."
That's not really an answer, but Ianto suspects that maybe he's not prepared to hear the real answer after all. Not at work, with Tosh only a few levels below and Gwen only a few levels above.
"I'm not the one hurting," Ianto says.
"You might be hurting yourself, but you're still hurting," Jack says. "It's not healthy, but I'm probably not going to be able to stop you, so here we are."
Ianto opens his mouth to deny it or brush it off or turn the attention back on Owen, but the cog door rolling open stops him abruptly. He isn't going to have this conversation in front of Gwen.
Jack smiles and kisses the top of his head, stepping away as the gate swings open and Gwen heads to her desk.
"You look a bit pale, sweetheart," Gwen says. "Everything all right?"
"Fine," Ianto says, finding it in him to give her a bland smile. "Just trying to schedule tomorrow. Owen's got a doctor's appointment I should probably take him to, and I've still got that in-tray full of files for the archives."
"I'll see you kids later," Jack says. "The Prime Minister waits for no man. Or, at least, he doesn't after you've canceled his conference call three times in as many weeks." He winks at them both, back to grand smiles and outrageous gestures, before jogging up the stairs to his office. Gwen rolls her eyes and laughs before sitting down at her desk and getting to work at her computer.
Ianto breathes in and out, pushes the memories of the Sunday visits to his mother back into the recesses of his mind where they belong, and pulls out his phone.
Ecstatic, he types in. Let me know if you need a ride or... any of that.
He puts the phone back into his pocket without waiting for a response. He knows Owen won't ask for anything. They're really quite the pair.
He goes back to work with a sigh, forcing himself to focus on the stack of files that need to be added to the archives. He'll have plenty of time to worry about tomorrow when tomorrow finally arrives.
Jack is immortal and alternately brilliant and thick as anything. He's gorgeous and flirty and mysterious and has traveled through both time and space. In a million years, years that Jack has, Ianto would not have pictured Jack courting him. He couldn't imagine Jack taking time and care and acting like they were a normal couple, like they didn't fight aliens all day. Like Ianto didn't live with a former co-worker that was slowly losing his mind.
He thinks of this, abruptly, when he puts his head on his desk and closes his eyes, only to almost instantaneously feel Jack's hands kneading his shoulders. He wants to look up, to make sure Tosh and Gwen aren't around and watching, but he's too tired, suddenly, to move. He doesn't remember these things happening with his mother all those years ago, but he can imagine them. It was foolish to get complacent, no matter how good the past week had been, arguments, break-ups, and drunken conversations notwithstanding.
"What's up?" Jack asks.
"Nothing," Ianto insists, though it's obvious Jack won't believe him for a moment. He has to try.
"Is it Owen?" Jack asks. As if anything else weighs this heavily on Ianto these days.
"He's...." Ianto starts to say, but he trails off. This he really doesn't want to talk about in front of the girls. Slowly and cautiously he sits up, glancing around to make sure the Hub is empty.
"Gwen's up in the tourist office talking to Andy about something," Jack says. "Tosh is down making an adjustment to the generator." His hands are still on Ianto's shoulders, not rubbing anymore, but sitting lightly, his thumb stroking the back of Ianto's neck. "Now, what's going on?"
Ianto closes his eyes.
"Owen's... hearing things," he says quietly. "Whispers, he says. It's... well. It's not unmanageable with an adjustment to his medication, but it's not... good."
"He's getting worse," Jack surmises. Ianto just nods.
"We don't know exactly what's wrong with him," Ianto says. "No one does. We've never... this has never happened before. Not in Cardiff and not in London, from what I can gather. But the symptoms... they're a bit too familiar. He's made an appointment with his doctor for tomorrow and I think I know what she's going to say."
Jack squeezes his shoulders. "I'm sorry," he says.
Ianto does not say that it's not Jack's fault. He's not entirely sure it would be the truth, and they're both aware of that.
"I might... I mean, if there's nothing pressing... he hasn't said anything, but I'll see if he'd like me to go with him. If I can." He tips his head back to look up at Jack, but has to look away again almost immediately. He doesn't know what to do with himself when Jack looks at him like that.
"Of course," Jack says. "As long as it's quiet. I know he wouldn't want me there, but if you need anything afterward, you'll come find me."
It's not a question. Normally, Ianto would be put off by that, by Jack's assumption that Ianto will come to him, by Jack's apparent order that Ianto come to him, but the concern Jack is showing trumps Ianto's ire. It's been a recurring theme since Owen's transformation. Jack is just... there. Jack Harkness, time and space traveler, immortal alien fighter, has time and again encouraged him to sit down and talk and unload. Jack Harkness, Cardiff's very own superhero, has made it his personal mission to make sure that Ianto is okay.
Ianto loves Jack, but it's almost too much.
"Why are you doing this?" he asks quietly. It's not an accusation. Ianto has to know.
He expects Jack will feign ignorance, will ask Ianto what he means or change the subject or give a flip reply.
"Because someone has to," Jack says, "and you're not. I ignored you when you were hurting once before. I learned my lesson."
That's not really an answer, but Ianto suspects that maybe he's not prepared to hear the real answer after all. Not at work, with Tosh only a few levels below and Gwen only a few levels above.
"I'm not the one hurting," Ianto says.
"You might be hurting yourself, but you're still hurting," Jack says. "It's not healthy, but I'm probably not going to be able to stop you, so here we are."
Ianto opens his mouth to deny it or brush it off or turn the attention back on Owen, but the cog door rolling open stops him abruptly. He isn't going to have this conversation in front of Gwen.
Jack smiles and kisses the top of his head, stepping away as the gate swings open and Gwen heads to her desk.
"You look a bit pale, sweetheart," Gwen says. "Everything all right?"
"Fine," Ianto says, finding it in him to give her a bland smile. "Just trying to schedule tomorrow. Owen's got a doctor's appointment I should probably take him to, and I've still got that in-tray full of files for the archives."
"I'll see you kids later," Jack says. "The Prime Minister waits for no man. Or, at least, he doesn't after you've canceled his conference call three times in as many weeks." He winks at them both, back to grand smiles and outrageous gestures, before jogging up the stairs to his office. Gwen rolls her eyes and laughs before sitting down at her desk and getting to work at her computer.
Ianto breathes in and out, pushes the memories of the Sunday visits to his mother back into the recesses of his mind where they belong, and pulls out his phone.
Ecstatic, he types in. Let me know if you need a ride or... any of that.
He puts the phone back into his pocket without waiting for a response. He knows Owen won't ask for anything. They're really quite the pair.
He goes back to work with a sigh, forcing himself to focus on the stack of files that need to be added to the archives. He'll have plenty of time to worry about tomorrow when tomorrow finally arrives.