Scales- Part Two: Existing
Read Part One here
Don't look at me if you're looking for perfection,
Don't look at me, I will only let you down,
I'll do my best to point you in the right direction,
But don't look at me...
{C}
- Don't look at me, Stacie Orrico
All throughout the next day, Ianto worried about himself. He worried when he woke up, he worried when he drank his coffee and ran to the Hub, he worried whilst he made endless drinks for the team and filed what seemed like hundreds of sheets of paper, only subconsciously aware of what was written on them.
"I'm not really bulimic," He half told himself, half hoped, "You'd have to do it more than once. You'd have to do it all the time." He nodded reverently on deciding this, and Jack noticed.
"What are you doing?" He asked, taking Ianto by surprised. The younger man shook his head.
"Nothing really... I was just-"
Jack took a step closer and placed a finger on Ianto's lips.
"The others have all gone home."
Ianto glanced at his watch. He'd been completely unaware how late it'd gotten, disconnected from the team and the world.
"Just thinking..." Jack grinned, "...you and me could have a little time alone with the stopwatch."
Ianto froze, as the voice kicked in.
"You can't," It shrieked, "You can't, not yet, you're my masterpiece and we can't let him see you until you're complete."
"Sorry, Sir." Ianto said, his heart sinking with the grief of turning Jack down, "I... have to go home."
He tried to make his escape swiftly, grabbing his new constant companion (his scarf) as he made to get onto the invisible lift.
"Oh, and Ianto?" Jack asked off handedly.
Ianto looked down at him.
"I'm immune to retcon." He continued casually. Ianto's tired eyes widened, but he looked away from his captain as the lift rose.
*
"How much do you weigh?" Owen asked suddenly, sitting up in bed and squinting at the girl emerging from his bathroom in just her bra and knickers.
"That's a very rude question." She complained.
"I don't care, answer it."
She sighed and rolled her eyes, before answering crossly,
"About 140 pounds."
Owen frowned, trying to picture his teammate, then lay backwards.
*
Toshiko stroked the photo in her hands softly, before putting in back in an old, battered shoebox. It was of two young japanese girls, their arms around one another. One was Tosh herself, and the other, a curvy girl with a beautiful smile, had been called Natsuki - she had been Tosh's best friend.
Tosh sighed, thinking back to the horrible year when everything changed.
Natsuki started to die, slowly, and Tosh had watched: done nothing.
"Toshiko?" Natsuki asked nervously.
"Yes, Suke?"
"Do you think I'm fat? Yui said I was getting fat."
Tosh absent mindedly waved a hand, thinking of other things.
"Yui is a whore. Don't listen."
{C}
Natsuki had died of anorexia.
*
{C} And I want to believe you,
When you tell me that it'll be okay,
Yeah, I try to believe you,
But I don't.
{C}
- Tomorrow, Avril Lavigne
Ianto sat up at his kitchen table, clutching the warming coffee cup tightly in his white hands. He was thinking about the voice, slightly frightened. It had called him its 'masterpiece'. Did he belong to it? Was it in control? Was he just its project, a piece of work the voice intended to finish? He decided that thinking about it was too stressful, so he told himself fiercely that he was the voice- it was his voice, no one else's. He drank some the coffee, but it was lukewarm and tasteless. He stood, crossed to the sink and poured it away, rinsing the cup and standing it upside down on the draining board. He opened a plastic, sealed box on the countertop, and reached in, pulling out a cracker. He looked at through one eye, twisting it in his hand.
As a child, Ianto had despised crackers: he had said they tasted like wood, and why were they called crackers? The seven-year-old Ianto Jones visualised crackers as the Christmas kind, and Christmas had so much delicious food, so why should ANYTHING to do with Christmas be the namesake for something so horrible? It was perfect, childlike logic, and as he reminisced to this he found his thoughts wandering where he didn't want them to. Christmas...
Last Christmas had been at the Hub; a real traditional affair, with holly and ivy and mistletoe, and Christmas pudding with silver pieces baked into it. The catch was, the coins were alien, and as soon as the silver touched one of the team member's mouth, they had inadvertedly told the truth for 60 seconds. This had been agonising, though hilarious, for all of them, and Ianto had managed to talk about his faithful teddy bear, Dewey, for most of the time until the seconds ended just before he went into great detail about his craving for Jack. After that, lots of kissing ensued, and Ianto remembered clearly christmas cake and ice cream shared with a very drunken Jack- the captain and the teaboy had stolen away to eat it out of each others mouths.
Ianto's mouth was on the verge of watering. His stomach and the voice began a contest to see who could make the most noise. He snatched up three of the small, square crackers and retreated to his room, were he sat on the floor, doing sit ups and other exercises he had learned from growing up with an elder sister who felt the pressure to be slim whilst in her teens. When he had finished the crackers, which took quite a long time due to the fact he picked them apart and cracked all the air bubbles before doing so, he stood up and went into the hallway, tapping his fingers against his leg absent mindedly. His answerphone beeped at him indignantly as he walked past it, so he doubled back to check it. One new message. He pressed the play button once, and Jack's voice rang out;
"I'm coming round, Yan. Thought I'd give you a fair warning, so you can barricade your door or invent a new memory-loss pill or gain weight or something."
Ianto froze, and then looked over at the door, his heart in his mouth. Jack burst in and tackled him to the ground.
*
Gwen rose up out of the water, gasping for air. Her limbs were stinging with the heat of the bath. She shook her head, heavy with thick, wet tresses spreading across her shoulders, trying to remember what had happened. She had fallen asleep, just for a few seconds, and she had dreamt of a person, a person ill, a person dying...
"Who?" She thought furiously, wracking her confused brain. Then she remembered with a sickening jolt. She hopped out of the bath and wrapped herself in a thick white bathrobe.
"Gwen, are you alright?" Rhys called. Gwen opened the bathroom door and stepped out.
"Rhys, that guy at work," She started breathlessly. He looked at her, frowning. "He's anorexic." She breathed.
She burst into tears.
*
Said, I just think you’re depressed,
Kiss me, yeah baby,
And go rest...
- Rehab, Amy Winehouse
"Let...me...go!"
Jack had hold of Ianto's wrists, and was pinning his slight frame down with his own mass. The younger man flailed helplessly, kicking and struggling to no avail. He writhed, burning his neck on the carpet.
"Get...off-" He breathed, trying to twist his head around, but Jack grabbed the back of his neck and forced his head to the floor. He flipped Ianto over, and stared into his face, his teeth barred, whilst Ianto breathed heavily, looking at Jack with anger and fear.
"What the hell do you think you're playing at, Ianto Jones?" He hissed, grabbing Ianto's face with one hand and forcing him to face him when he tried to look away.
"I'm currently trying to stop you from killing me, Sir," He grunted, wriggling, avoiding what he knew the question really was.
"Why aren't you eating?!" Jack roared.
"I am," Ianto protested.
"WHY AREN'T YOU EATING ENOUGH?!"
Ianto moved his lips noiselessly, gagging like a goldfish out of water as he fought with himself as to whether to tell Jack or not. Would his opinionated answer make Jack stronger, so he could stop Ianto easily? He eventually blurted,
"I am eating enough. Too much."
Jack's eyes were terrifying, full of fury as he grabbed Ianto's neck, making Ianto think for one heart-stopping moment that he was going to be strangled by the older man. Then Jack ripped off the coloured tie and began to undo the buttons of his employee's shirt. Ianto fought but couldn't manage to push Jack away. Jack tore off Ianto's top and seized his hands.
"Look at yourself," He ordered, "What do you see?"
Ianto didn't respond. He didn't look at his body, instead gazed at the ceiling, his eyes glazed over. "Right then." Jack seethed, standing up and forcing Ianto to his feet. He dragged him to the bathroom.
"Please, no!" Ianto cried out when he realised where they were going, "Don't make me, Jack."
Jack let out a short, harsh laugh.
"I can't wait for your reaction when I make you eat."
Ianto faced the mirror, considerably weakened by the brawl, leaning against Jack for support. He was holding his head turned away from the reflective glass, his eyes shut.
"Please look." Jack whispered. The welshman reluctantly withdrew his eyelids and scrutinised his reflection. "What do you see?"
Ianto opened his mouth but to begin with no sound came out for at least two minutes of his boss' gentle coaxing. He choked on the words as he confessed,
"I see... everything I don't want to be. My eyes... look at my eyes... my eyes are full of it... can't you see?"
"See what?" Jack asked, still trying to keep his voice soft. He ran his fingers along Ianto's side, his fingers snagging on visible ribs.
"They've got the right idea," Ianto breathed, almost hypnotised, "They make it look like I'm...determined. Like I could actually do something about myself without messing it up."
Jack's next piece of speech was louder and harsher.
"Ianto, I've seen too many people die, I really don't want to add you to the list. Especially for this stupid reason."
Ianto pulled himself away abruptly, out of the view of the mirror and forward from Jack's touch, picking his shirt up off the floor and sliding it on quickly.
"It's not stupid." He said. It was a decided statement, not an argument. "I'm fat."
His breathe escaped in a short, sharp, gasp. He had shocked himself- he had finally said it aloud. Jack grabbed Ianto's shoulders.
"For God's sake-"
He was cut off by his ear piece.
"Jack?" Gwen queried, "Can you make it to the Hub within quarter of any hour?"
*
{C}Let me wrap myself around you,
Let you show me what I see,
And when you come back in from nowhere,
Do you ever think of me?
{C}
- My List, The Killers
Ianto looked at the floor, feeling awkward and ashamed of Jack having seen his body, as Jack responded sharply to her,
"Gwen, I'm kinda busy."
"I'm sorry Jack, it's important. It's about Ianto."
Jack wondered how loud his headset was turned up. Hopefully not loud enough for the important cause stood close to him to hear his name.
"So is this," Jack retaliated.
"Half an hour, then," Gwen pleaded, "Please, Jack."
Jack rolled his eyes, murmured a quick,
"Okay," then removed his earpiece. "Ianto," He continued, taking hold of the younger man's narrow hips, "I want you to tell me the truth. Everything. Why and how you've made yourself like this."
"Like what?" He moaned quietly and rhetorically, rolling his eyes. Ianto wandered into the kitchen, where he distractedly made two cups of coffee. Jack noticed he was shivering, so he removed his long, heavy coat and draped it around Ianto when he sat down.
"I'm not cold," He protested, teeth chattering, "I'm just scared."
"Of what?"
"That you'll stop me. If you do, it'll kill me." Jack thought Ianto meant the defeat would kill him, but then he added, "It hates me."
“It?”
Ianto shook his head, then said coldly,
"I don't see the point in me telling you anything, Sir. You'll only try to stop me."
"I won't. I promise." The captain lied, reaching out and squeezing Ianto's slender hand.
Ianto opened his mouth, and told Jack everything.
Jack didn’t speak, but listened intently, his heart turning and his stomach tightening as Ianto laid back to him everything- about Lisa, about Owen, about the cannibals and, eventually, the voice. When Ianto shut his eyes, rubbing his forehead and leaning back in his chair with a moan, Jack discreetly slipped a small, white pill into Ianto’s drink. Ten minutes later, Jack was leaving and his team member was fast asleep on the kitchen table. He swallowed. He hated having to retcon Ianto: but if he remembered this evening then it would be harder to solve the problems wrapping themselves around Ianto’s mind like cruel, alien tentacles. He closed the front door slowly as he left, the latch falling into place with an echoing click. He made his way to the Hub in the darkness, thinking everything through.
Strangely, when Jack stepped into the fake reception area of the tourist information that served as a cover for Torchwood. he almost expected to see Ianto stood behind the desk, smiling, his trademark suit no longer loose-fitting. However, Gwen was there instead, and she immediately turned when she saw him.
"Come on." She said simply over her shoulder, travelling hurriedly down to and through the round, cog-like door, the alarm announcing their entrance. She and Jack made their way up the spiralling, metal steps to the boardroom, where Toshiko sat up at the art deco table and Owen was leaning against the wall. Gwen shut the door and walked to the head of the table.
"Do we all know why we're here?" She asked, putting her hands down on the smooth wooden surface.
"Yeah," Said Jack bracingly, and Toshiko echoed this somewhat weakly.
"I'm a little foggy on the details," Owen confessed, "You just said it's about Ianto, that's all I know."
"How can you not know, Owen?!" Gwen exclaimed, her voice suddenly brimming with emotion, "How can you not know why we need to talk about Ianto?!"
"If it's about his weight, okay, okay, I know," He defended, holding up his hands, "I just wasn't sure. I mean, it's not immediately obvious, is it?"
Gwen actually groaned at this reply.
"Maybe not to you," Jack said fairly, "But Tosh and Gwen, being girls, have probably dappled with anorexia in the past, yeah?" Gwen nodded and Tosh shut her eyes for a few seconds, "As for me, I've had anorexia, died of starvation twice, had an anorexic boyfriend, and a bulimic girlfriend. I kind of know the telltale signs."
It was silent for a moment that was elongated beyond its purpose.
"So... do we know why he's doing it?" Owen asked eventually.
"Mostly depression," Jack analysed, "It's common. Life gets out of control and the victim wants something they have power over. Enter food. It's always there and it makes people feel bad about themselves. So they cut down, they feel proud, they think, oh, I'm good at this. But then if they eat, they're angry with themselves. They throw up. Then they realise that they can do that after everything they eat, not just when they eat more than they meant to... and by God I hope Ianto's not got that far in yet."
"So why's he depressed?" Owen said dumbly.
"He lost his girlfriend, you asshole! His parents are dead and he was nearly eaten by members of his own race!" Gwen hollered, starting forward.
"I lost Dianne!" He yelled back hoarsely, "You don't see me forcing my hand down my throat!"
"Stop it!" Jack commanded, but then turned to look at Owen icily, "Actually, he also mentioned you. Something you said."
Owen eye's widened.
"What? Me?"
"You jabbed him in the stomach and called him pudge."
"When was this?" The young doctor challenged, folding his arms.
"Four, maybe five months ago. He took it really badly, cause he'd started to hate the way he looked."
"How do you know?"
Jack frowned, and leaned against the table, looking Owen directly in the face.
"He told me earlier this evening. And yes, he's been retconned now, so he won't think we're plotting to save him from himself," He added when Owen began to point out the flaw, "And anyway, thinking back, I remember it. Tosh was showing me that new tracking software; it was the day he disappeared down to the basement and only came up late in the evening."
"Well, sorry," Owen said with a sarcastic and exasperated sigh, "But couldn't he handle that? I didn't mean it."
"He wasn't well, Owen," Tosh said suddenly, "I don't think he has been for quite a long time."
"So, what are we going to do?" Gwen asked.
"Barricade him in the kitchenette!" Owen suggested instantly. Gwen launched forward and grabbed the lapels of his jacket.
"For fuck's sake, Owen," She breathed furiously, "This is a matter of life and death. Ianto might die. Do you even care?!"
Owen pulled back, looking sheepish and cross.
"You know I really don't like him. Bloody bastard shot me. But I don't want him to die, I'm not that much of a prick, you fuckers. He's like a brother. He's Torchwood. He's family."
"Right," Said Jack decisively, "Sensible ideas then."
*
{C}
This sick, strange darkness comes creeping on,
So haunting every time,
And as I stared, I counted webs from all the spiders
Catching things and eating their insides,
Like indecision…
{C}
- I Miss You, Blink-182
Running. Running and not getting anywhere. A long, dark street. Desperate to reach the end. Ianto is running, running but never getting an closer to the end. Thousands of other people are behind him, shouting his name. He tries to go faster, but his legs feel like they could snap any second. Then a hand is on his mouth, fingers trying to pry open his lips.
“Open your mouth,” Jack’s voice commands, “Open it!”
Ianto struggles and pulls free. He’s running, faster than before. The end of the street is getting closer, and his heart leaps with joy.
At the end of the street, there is a never-ending pit, waiting to swallow him up.
{C}
*
{C} Ianto woke with a start, gasping for breath. He didn’t know where he was, and began to panic, his heart quickening: then his eyes adjusted to the darkness and saw that he was at his kitchen table, no bleak alleyway in sight, two mugs of cold coffee next to him. He frowned. Why was he at the table? What had he done last night? The inability to remember frightened him. He realized that had a splitting headache, and his stomach was aching. He felt stiff, his entire gut feeling strained. It rumbled with hunger.
“Oh, for God’s sake, shut up.” He said aloud, although he knew it would make no difference. The voice started to talk- but it was a different voice. This one was smooth and persuasive.
“Eat,” It said, “You’re hungry, Ianto. Have something to eat, it won’t do any harm.”
He sat rigid in his chair, listening intently to see if it spoke again, unsure if it really was in his mind, not another person, close to him in the room.
“There’s food in your cupboards… why waste it?” It said, articulating each word seductively. Ianto resisted fiercely.
“No,” He replied, the original voice supporting him, “I don’t need to eat. I’m not going to.” His voice almost seemed to contain an echo of the voice’s cruel accent, as if there had been no voice inside him- like all the cruel and driving words had come from his own mouth. He got to his feet, knocking the chair over backwards. He ran into his bedroom and threw off the sheets curtaining under his bed. He plunged his hand under the bed and pulled out a small, hard backed notebook. He flicked through the pages- displaying entries reading of bullying, self-harm, gay crushes, inventive synonyms for the pressures of Torchwood - and came to a fresh page. After another two minutes of rooting around the room, he found a black fountain pen and, lying on his front on the bedroom floor, began to write.
Fuck, I’ve never been so hungry in my life. I could eat anything- even meat, I wouldn’t care. I’m arguing with myself- I really want to eat, but if I consume even the smallest, most fat-free thing I can find, I know it’ll have consequences. Bad consequences. I hate my body, absolutely hate it- Jack and Gwen and Owen and Tosh, they can eat whatever they want and it never has any effect. It’s not the same with me. So if I don’t eat anything, I’m safe. I’m not anorexic, I’m in control. I can stop whenever. I’m just not thin enough yet.
He put down the pen with a sigh, rubbing his head. Did he really believe that? Part of him knew that he was in danger. His bones showed through his skin like iron rods trying to hide under cling film. And yet, the voice still convinced him… he was still so fat, he had to lose more weight… just a bit.
He wrote this, adding on the end: Then I’d be perfect. Then Jack’d love me.
He hastily scrawled out the last sentence, having had written it almost subconsciously. He looked at the clock. It was nearly 2:00 am. He rubbed his eyes, and then put the book and pen back beneath the sheets. He shed his shirt then crawled into bed, curling into a ball. Seconds before the fatigue knocked him out, the thought crossed his troubled mind;
"Why were there two mugs of coffee?"
*
{C}The real self often erases,
Enticing lies flicker through our eyes,
Feel the terror draw ever nearer,
The more you stare in the mirror...
{C}
- The Riddle, from The Scarlet Pimpernel
It was silent around the table for a few minutes.
"Any ideas?" Said Owen limply. Tosh jumped, having had drifted off into a daydream and returning abruptly at the sound.
"We need to convince him he's not... fat..." Gwen said slowly, shaking her head as if water was clogging her ears, "Sorry, it's just strange talking about Ianto like this. He was always the one who'd give you a smile and make your terrible day feel better." Jack put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed reassuringly.
"It's okay," He soothed, taking his hand away and walking around the table, shoving his hands deep into his pockets, before continuing, "If we can convince him to stop starving himself, then it's sorted. If we can't...we need to force him. Maybe even get him professional help."
"We're professionals." Owen protested.
"At stopping anorexia?" Jack asked, raising his eyebrows. Owen faltered, but Gwen interjected,
"I've stopped friends."
"Yeah, but it was you who just said it's awkward just to talk about it. Never mind stop him from doing it."
"We can't give him up to a hospital or something. He'd never forgive us." Tosh put in.
Jack shrugged.
"We're gonna have to if there's no other way. Fake some reason for depression, how his parents and Lisa died. I'd rather lose his friendship than his life. He deserves life..." He trailed off, looking slightly nostalgic, before shaking it away.
"How do you convince someone they're anorexic?" Enquired Owen. Tosh answered him.
"You have to break it down slowly. Convince them what they see in the mirror and on themselves isn't real. People think anorexia is simply being severely skinny, but it's a psychological illness too. You don't have to be underweight to be anorexic."
"Thanks, Tosh." Owen said with weary annoyance, ungrateful for all the pedantic details. Tosh spluttered with outrage, then stood up and crossed to Owen, standing over him, enraged. He blinked. She swung back her hand and slapped him across the face, before sinking to her knees, weeping into her fingers. Jack dropped down beside her and held her, making gentle hushing noises. He glared up at Owen, who did then the completely unexpectable. He crouched, pushing Jack away, and enveloped the crying woman in his arms.
"I'm sorry, Tosh," He apologised, "I didn't think... I never do."
Jack stared at Gwen, who looked at shocked as he did. The team's doctor looked up.
"Perhaps we need to get Ianto and his friends Ana and Mia on their own."
*
Ianto opened his eyes. He could see white. It was warm and soft.
"Am I dead?" He wondered sleepily, "Please, yes..." He put a hand out in front of him, and touched the white. It fell away, and he realised, with disappointment, that it had just been the covers over his head. He was bathed in sunlight, as the curtains were drawn wide. He hadn't shut them the night before. He looked blearily at the clock on his bedside table. It read 9.32.
"Yay." He thought sarcastically, too tired to panic, "Late." He lay back for a few more moments, looking at the ceiling as though losing his staring contest with it would be the tragedy of the century. "What happens if you're late for Torchwood without a good reason?" He wondered out loud, never having been late before, "Second chances? Get fired? Then retconned, obviously." His brain lurched as he thought the word 'retcon'. An image entered his subconscious; a mirror, ribs, hands. It was just a glimpse, for a millisecond, and then it was gone. Ianto got out of bed, rubbing his head. Still half asleep, obviously.
He washed and dressed, then went on a scout around the flat for coffee mugs. He found about five, minus the two on the kitchen table, which was odd because he was usually so tidy. He washed them all out hurriedly, then grabbed his suit jacket off the back of one of the chairs. He scooped chewing gum wrappers out of the pockets, tossed them in the bin and slipped in a new packet. He ejected one piece of gum into his hand and raised it into his mouth as he stepped outside into the cold and locked the door behind him. He hated this part of the day. Whilst walking to work, he wasn't busy, so he had time to think. He tried not to think about the voice, but it pushed its way in.
"You're not hungry!" It said in disbelief, "Just keep yourself busy with that chewy."
Ianto obeyed, chewing ravenously. Another thing he hated about walking to the Hub. He had to walk through crowds of people. He tugged nervously at the corner of his jacket, trying to make it hang more loosely. On arriving, there was no one there, and he eventually found the team in the boardroom. Jack was sat at the table, looking bored, the others all fast asleep on it.
"Coffee?" Said Ianto helplessly, looking around at the team members. Jack started.
"Ianto." He said, hastily stuffing some paper into his back pocket, "Uh... no, thank you. I'll do it myself in a bit." He looked at Ianto, tilting his head and frowning. "You'll wear a hole in your jaw if you chew any faster and harder, you know."
Ianto flinched.
"I'll wear a hole in your head in a minute." He snapped, avoiding Jack's piercing blue eyes. Jack's eyebrows went up, before he pointed beyond Ianto and said,
"I'll go do the coffee, then." And dodged around the younger man quickly.
Coffee...
The image flashed again. A mug, a pill, a mirror, ribcage.
Ianto felt ill.
* I have this thought in my head,
{C}And it’s about being noticed...
We hide away,
Somebody stop me feeling empty...
{C}
- Empty (Hideaway), Sonique
Ianto had had problems with paranoia before, when he was hiding Lisa, but this time it was worse. He could feel the eyes of the whole team upon him, and when he looked around they all instantly smiled and then moved away. They all seemed to be whispering and passing papers to each other. Everytime he blinked he saw the images in his mind's eye, so vivid and so constant he was sure they were real. His exhausted mind was working furiously, trying to find a logical source of these pictures. This proved very difficult as his brain was using lots of time- wasting lots of time, in Ianto's opinion- sending messages to his mouth, telling it to water, and to his stomach, telling it to rumble. He chewed his gum, chewed and chewed until his temples and jaw ached. Then, mid-chew, something clicked into place in his mind.
He'd been retconned.
He instantly began to panic, understandably- what had he done in the hours missing from his memory? There had been coffee mugs, someone's hands on his skin. He could feel it prickling now as he remembered squirming inwardly, longing to pull away, not let whoever it had been see him for the disgusting thing he thought himself to be. He could also remember seeing a startlingly visible ribcage, reflected in a mirror, but surely his mind clearly was confused, and that part was just a dream. No way could he possibly be that thin.
As he felt the echo of the hands brushing against his side, he was almost certain they had been Jack's. He didn't know why, but that touch, that movement- it felt like Jack. So why had Jack come into his house, felt him up and then retconned him? He remembered, somewhat embarrassedly, Jack pulling off Ianto's shirt and forcing him to the mirror.
"God," The voice interupted, "It was about your weight again. You have to stand up to them, Ianto. You can't let them stop you. You have every right to be like them, fuck it if you're depriving them of someone to laugh about behind your back."
Ianto shivered. The voice had never spoken to him like that before. It was getting higher and higher above him, more superior and so less like him. He slipped silently into Jack's office, as if in a dream. He pulled open a drawer under the desk and found, as he expected to, a hand gun. He pulled it out and grasped it tight in his hand, the cool metal soothing his skin.
*
{C} The boardroom was buzzing with careless planning conversations.
"I don't want to shoot him."
"Christ, Gwen, it's just a stun gun."
"I don't want to do it, I don't care whether it's a stun gun or a bayonette!"
"For God's sake, I'll do it then. Then we've got to weigh him."
"What if this doesn't work?"
"It will."
"What if it doesn't?"
"It has to."
"Well it won't." Someone interrupted, their voice husky with anger. The others looked up, and saw Ianto stood by the doorway, pointing the gun in their direction. He laughed scornfully. "See, I'm so invisible that I can get in here without you noticing."
"Ianto... put the gun down..." Jack said catiously, taking a step closer. Ianto aimed it at Jack's forehead, "Yan, you're not thinking straight-"
"I'm thinking fine!" Ianto yelled, his eyes flashing with rage, "I'm not your plaything! My body is my own and I can do what I want with it!" He turned the gun upon himself. Gwen hands flew to her mouth, Tosh uttered a small shriek and Owen made to move forward but Jack waved him back, lurching forward himself and clutching Ianto's wrist. In one sudden, swift movement, Ianto twisted his hand and faced the gun into Jack's neck.
"Get off me." Ianto growled.
Jack shook his head, gritting his teeth with contempt.
"That's not you, speaking."
"What?"
"There's a voice inside your head. All this time it's been getting louder and louder and finally, it's coming out of that sweet little welsh mouth of yours."
"Get away from me, Jack." He applied more pressure into Jack's neck, but the older man simply shrugged.
"Kill me if you want, Yan, don't be disappointed when I get up again."
There was a deafening bang as the gun fired. Gwen screamed, Jack's blood splattering her and the others as he fell to the floor. The gun dropped with a clatter. Ianto had his hands over his mouth, tears welling up in his eyes. Horrified at what he'd done, he turned and ran.
*
{C} Jack gasped as life flooded back into him again. He struggled up, and was extremely pissed off to see Gwen, Owen and Tosh crowded around him.
"For God's sake," He groaned, "Why are you all stood around me? GET AFTER IANTO!"
*
{C}You leave on your own,
And you go home,
And you cry, and you want to die.
{C}
- How Soon Is Now? The Smiths
Ianto made his way back to his flat quickly, stumbling and running, his throat and eyes choked with tears. It was dark outside now, so nobody could see his tear-stained, haunted face, but when he tripped into a young, skinny woman under the full light of a lampost, she said,
"Are you alright, sweetheart?" In a voice that was Irish and concerned. Ianto nodded feverishly but didn't speak, the voice instead pondering,
"She could do with losing a little weight."
"No," Ianto thought, "No, that's wrong, she's perfect... maybe a bit too thin."
He continued home, looking over his shoulder every few seconds, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end the feeling of being chased grew stronger and stronger.
His hand shook as he attempted to unlock his door. When the key eventually slid into the lock, he burst into the flat, slamming the door and leaning against it, breathing heavily, his eyes shut. He was deathly pale, and shivering- he was freezing cold and his circulation was struggling, starved of the nutrients missing from his blood. He moved into the bedroom and sat down, wringing his hands. He began to have an argument with the voice.
"I shot Jack."
"It's alright, he can't die anyway."
"I killed him."
"Only in theory."
"I killed a man."
"It doesn't matter!"
His tummy suddenly gurgled loudly.
"I am so fucking hungry!" He shouted out loud, rolling onto his front. He could feel his quickened pulse in his abdomen, almost like a constantly kicking baby.
"I wonder if guys can get pregnant in the time Jack's from." He thought with a smile.
"Urgh, imagine being pregnant, all fat and disgusting!" The voice leered, spoiling the moment.
"Excuse me, I wasn't thinking about fat. I was thinking about babies." Ianto retaliated. The voice was quiet after that, but the hunger continued fiercely.
Eventually, he rolled onto his side and fell into a troubled sleep.
*
He was woken by a voice, hissing his name. He sat up, and it was a few seconds before he realised it wasn't a real voice, but the voice in his head.
"Ianto," It said, "Get up. Go to the bathroom."
He obeyed blindly, drifting as though he was still slumbering. He stood infront of the full length mirror.
"Take off your shirt." The voice said, and had it had a body and face Ianto was sure it would be smiling, like a proud parent on their child's first day of school. Ianto undid the buttons slowly, one by one, and the shirt fell away.
"Ianto," The voice breathed exicitedly, "You're perfect."
Ianto looked at himself. His guts churned and his head spun as he took in what he saw in the mirror before him. Bones. Every single bone in his torso could be seen, he looked like a skeleton, skin wrapped tightly around him, stretched and thin. His arms were like sticks, his stomach concave, his ribs jutting out horrifically. He ran his fingers over his body in disbelief, feeling the fine lanugo hairs, the last resort to keep him warm. He let out a dry sob, and could feel darkness closing in around him as he started to pass out.
The door burst open and there stood Jack, his arms wide open.
"Help me." Ianto croaked. Everything went black.
*
Read Part Three here