Acceptance (1/1)
Title: Acceptance (1/1)
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Characters: Jack, Ianto,
Rating: PG
Spoilers: CoE
Summary: Set post-Something Borrowed, includes spoilers to CoE. Ianto’s past. Companion to Continuance, but can be read alone.
This is a little side-story I wrote, just a one-shot, after chapter 4 of Continuance. It takes place after Something Borrowed and addresses what we found out about Ianto’s family and past in CoE. There’s nothing about the bond or Ianto’s empathy, and it can be read separately of both Restoration and Continuance. When I started the series I wasn’t sure whether or not to include the Debenhams content, but I decided I wanted to explain Ianto's reasons for lying as best I could. Hopefully I succeeded, and I hope you enjoy :-)
They are lying in bed, warm and sated, and if Ianto could he would be drifting off against Jack into a pleasant sleep. His mind won’t let him though, guilt and anxiety gnawing insistently, keeping him awake and unable to relax. Finally, he sighs.
‘There’s something I should tell you.’
He can feel the tiny, almost unnoticeable tightening of Jack’s muscles. He wonders what he thinks he’s going to say. ‘Are you going to tell me?’
He pauses, considers, and the nods. He wants Jack to know. ‘Yes. It’s about me. My life. I - I was lying when I said my dad was a master tailor.’
‘Why?’
‘Because he worked in Debenhams.’
Another silence. Ianto is glad it’s dark. Confessions are meant to be made in the dark. ‘You’re ashamed?’ Jack’s voice is neutral; Ianto has no idea whether he is curious or disgusted or honestly indifferent about it.
‘Not ashamed. Or - maybe a little, but that’s not really why.’ He considers for a moment.
‘Do you want to tell me about them? Your family?’
Ianto is surprised to realise that yes, he does want to tell him. ‘I grew up on an estate. My dad worked in Debenhams. My mam did various things, but mostly she was unemployed. My sister, Rhiannon, we got along, but my dad and I ... not so good. Then he died, and ...’ He pauses. ‘I went to University, and I didn’t fit in, or at least I felt I didn’t. So I ... made it up.’
‘I think I understand. I’ve taken on so many different identities over the years, and you know that I’m not really Captain Jack Harkness - or at least I wasn’t born him. I’m not about to judge you. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.’
Ianto can feel a small glow light inside him. Jack understands. He isn’t pressing him to talk or explain or tell him the reality of his past, and he is unspeakably grateful for it. Quiet falls between them, but it’s comfortable and Ianto feels closer to Jack for sharing this with him than ever before.
He finds himself speaking without thinking, words falling softly into the quiet darkness. ‘I never really ... fit. Too quiet. I tried - that shoplifting charge, and I probably could have done better in school if I’d wanted. But when dad died I didn’t see the point in trying anymore, and I got out as quick as I could, but then, well, I suppose I still wanted to fit in, blend in, so I created a whole life that sort of ... suited me, that I could be proud of and kept me from standing out.’
There is another pause, and then, ‘Thank you. Thank you for ... giving me this part of yourself.’
‘You don’t think of me any differently?’ Ianto knows that he doesn’t really need to ask this, but a little spark of uncertainty makes him. He smiles, just a little, unseen in the darkness, when Jack pulls him close, arm around him.
‘It’s your past, and it’s part of you, but it doesn’t change who you are, who I know you to be. Nothing could ever do that. It’s who we - you - are now that matters, not who you were in the past or where you come from.’
And it’s enough. Ianto doesn’t think he will ever hear ‘I love you’ from Jack, but moments like this make that unnecessary. They are enough, and not just because they have to be. They simply are.
Break
They are lying in bed, warm and sated. Ianto is pressed against his side, and his mind is drifting. He is happy. Content. The day has turned out well, and he’s basking in it, just like he is basking in Ianto’s presence. He is content to just lie there, close, drifting in that strange limbo between wakefulness and sleep.
Then Ianto sighs and says, ‘There’s something I should tell you,’ and he finds himself tensing just a little, despite himself.
‘Are you going to tell me?’
There is a brief pause and then Jack can feel Ianto nod against him. ‘Yes. It’s about me. My life. I - I was lying when I said my dad was a master tailor.’
Strangely, there is no shock, not really any hurt, just curiosity and acceptance. ‘Why?’
‘Because he works in Debenhams.’
Jack frowns, confused. He hesitates and then says, ‘You’re ashamed?’
‘Not ashamed. Or - maybe a little, but that’s not really why.’ There is something in the tone of his voice that tells Jack that Ianto’s reasons are complicated and somewhat intangible; difficult to explain and define.
For a moment he thinks about saying nothing, at leaving it entirely open to Ianto. He knows, however, that if he does that he will learn nothing, that Ianto might misconstrue it as anger or hurt or worse, disinterest. So he asks, an open question designed not to pressure. ‘Do you want to tell me about them? Your family?’
He doesn’t know whether to be surprised or not when Ianto answers him after only a second or two’s silence. ‘I grew up on an estate. My dad worked in Debenhams. My mam did various things, but mostly she was unemployed. My sister, Rhiannon, we got along, but my dad and I ... not so good. Then he died, and ...’ There is so much unsaid, so much he doesn’t know, but it’s not what Ianto hasn’t told him that matters, it’s what he has said. ‘I went to University, and I didn’t fit in, or at least I felt I didn’t. So I ... made it up.’
‘I think I understand. I’ve taken on so many different identities over the years, and you know that I’m not really Captain Jack Harkness - or at least I wasn’t born him. I’m not about to judge you. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.’ He does understand, as best as anyone could, probably, and he accepts it without censure or disapproval. He isn’t a hypocrite, or at least not about this, and he knows what it’s like, to create an identity - for whatever reason - and find you actually becoming the person you pretend to be, especially since, so often, that identity is something of who you would like to be, or reveals a part of you generally hidden.
They fall quiet, and it’s pleasant, comfortable. Jack will always be willing, happy, to listen to whatever Ianto wants to tell him, but at the same time he doesn’t need to be told. He is perfectly happy with what he knows, what he discovers about him during daily life.
When Ianto begins speaking again, without prompting, the words are quiet, and there is a strange, wonderful sense of intimacy in this half-confession made in the dark. ‘I never really ... fit. Too quiet. I tried - that shoplifting charge, and I probably could have done better in school if I’d wanted. But when dad died I didn’t see the point in trying anymore, and I got out as quick as I could, but then, well, I suppose I still wanted to fit in, blend in, so I created a whole life that sort of ... suited me, that I could be proud of and kept me from standing out.’
He can see this, Ianto, on an estate, quiet, neat, set apart from the louder, brasher personalities, trying to match them and always feeling different. Of course he left when the chance came, and it is no surprise that he made himself a past that is more suited to his personality. He ended up growing to fit that past completely, because it had not been a surprise when Ianto had said his father was a master tailor; Jack had thought, yes, that makes sense.
‘Thank you. Thank you for ... giving me this part of yourself.’ And it’s true, all he has is gratitude, because it is yet another part of Ianto, something he never knew, and it’s wonderful.
‘You don’t think of me any differently?’ There is a tiny note of uncertainty in his voice, and Jack pulls him closer, holds him tighter.
‘It’s your past, and it’s part of you, but it doesn’t change who you are, who I know you to be. Nothing could ever do that. It’s who we - you - are now that matters, not who you were in the past or where you come from.’
The past doesn’t really matter, although he appreciates Ianto telling him, the trust it shows, the illumination it gives him as to what has made Ianto the way he is. But in the end, it’s irrelevant. Jack knows Ianto now, and he is a brave, thoughtful man with a biting, sarcastic wit and keen intelligence, who seems - and often is - quiet, but hides a passionate side, a mischievous, devious one that Jack loves to provoke. He is some odd, perfect blend of light and dark, awful experience and youthful innocence and wonder.
Jack knows that he’ll probably never say it, but he loves Ianto Jones.
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Characters: Jack, Ianto,
Rating: PG
Spoilers: CoE
Summary: Set post-Something Borrowed, includes spoilers to CoE. Ianto’s past. Companion to Continuance, but can be read alone.
This is a little side-story I wrote, just a one-shot, after chapter 4 of Continuance. It takes place after Something Borrowed and addresses what we found out about Ianto’s family and past in CoE. There’s nothing about the bond or Ianto’s empathy, and it can be read separately of both Restoration and Continuance. When I started the series I wasn’t sure whether or not to include the Debenhams content, but I decided I wanted to explain Ianto's reasons for lying as best I could. Hopefully I succeeded, and I hope you enjoy :-)
They are lying in bed, warm and sated, and if Ianto could he would be drifting off against Jack into a pleasant sleep. His mind won’t let him though, guilt and anxiety gnawing insistently, keeping him awake and unable to relax. Finally, he sighs.
‘There’s something I should tell you.’
He can feel the tiny, almost unnoticeable tightening of Jack’s muscles. He wonders what he thinks he’s going to say. ‘Are you going to tell me?’
He pauses, considers, and the nods. He wants Jack to know. ‘Yes. It’s about me. My life. I - I was lying when I said my dad was a master tailor.’
‘Why?’
‘Because he worked in Debenhams.’
Another silence. Ianto is glad it’s dark. Confessions are meant to be made in the dark. ‘You’re ashamed?’ Jack’s voice is neutral; Ianto has no idea whether he is curious or disgusted or honestly indifferent about it.
‘Not ashamed. Or - maybe a little, but that’s not really why.’ He considers for a moment.
‘Do you want to tell me about them? Your family?’
Ianto is surprised to realise that yes, he does want to tell him. ‘I grew up on an estate. My dad worked in Debenhams. My mam did various things, but mostly she was unemployed. My sister, Rhiannon, we got along, but my dad and I ... not so good. Then he died, and ...’ He pauses. ‘I went to University, and I didn’t fit in, or at least I felt I didn’t. So I ... made it up.’
‘I think I understand. I’ve taken on so many different identities over the years, and you know that I’m not really Captain Jack Harkness - or at least I wasn’t born him. I’m not about to judge you. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.’
Ianto can feel a small glow light inside him. Jack understands. He isn’t pressing him to talk or explain or tell him the reality of his past, and he is unspeakably grateful for it. Quiet falls between them, but it’s comfortable and Ianto feels closer to Jack for sharing this with him than ever before.
He finds himself speaking without thinking, words falling softly into the quiet darkness. ‘I never really ... fit. Too quiet. I tried - that shoplifting charge, and I probably could have done better in school if I’d wanted. But when dad died I didn’t see the point in trying anymore, and I got out as quick as I could, but then, well, I suppose I still wanted to fit in, blend in, so I created a whole life that sort of ... suited me, that I could be proud of and kept me from standing out.’
There is another pause, and then, ‘Thank you. Thank you for ... giving me this part of yourself.’
‘You don’t think of me any differently?’ Ianto knows that he doesn’t really need to ask this, but a little spark of uncertainty makes him. He smiles, just a little, unseen in the darkness, when Jack pulls him close, arm around him.
‘It’s your past, and it’s part of you, but it doesn’t change who you are, who I know you to be. Nothing could ever do that. It’s who we - you - are now that matters, not who you were in the past or where you come from.’
And it’s enough. Ianto doesn’t think he will ever hear ‘I love you’ from Jack, but moments like this make that unnecessary. They are enough, and not just because they have to be. They simply are.
Break
They are lying in bed, warm and sated. Ianto is pressed against his side, and his mind is drifting. He is happy. Content. The day has turned out well, and he’s basking in it, just like he is basking in Ianto’s presence. He is content to just lie there, close, drifting in that strange limbo between wakefulness and sleep.
Then Ianto sighs and says, ‘There’s something I should tell you,’ and he finds himself tensing just a little, despite himself.
‘Are you going to tell me?’
There is a brief pause and then Jack can feel Ianto nod against him. ‘Yes. It’s about me. My life. I - I was lying when I said my dad was a master tailor.’
Strangely, there is no shock, not really any hurt, just curiosity and acceptance. ‘Why?’
‘Because he works in Debenhams.’
Jack frowns, confused. He hesitates and then says, ‘You’re ashamed?’
‘Not ashamed. Or - maybe a little, but that’s not really why.’ There is something in the tone of his voice that tells Jack that Ianto’s reasons are complicated and somewhat intangible; difficult to explain and define.
For a moment he thinks about saying nothing, at leaving it entirely open to Ianto. He knows, however, that if he does that he will learn nothing, that Ianto might misconstrue it as anger or hurt or worse, disinterest. So he asks, an open question designed not to pressure. ‘Do you want to tell me about them? Your family?’
He doesn’t know whether to be surprised or not when Ianto answers him after only a second or two’s silence. ‘I grew up on an estate. My dad worked in Debenhams. My mam did various things, but mostly she was unemployed. My sister, Rhiannon, we got along, but my dad and I ... not so good. Then he died, and ...’ There is so much unsaid, so much he doesn’t know, but it’s not what Ianto hasn’t told him that matters, it’s what he has said. ‘I went to University, and I didn’t fit in, or at least I felt I didn’t. So I ... made it up.’
‘I think I understand. I’ve taken on so many different identities over the years, and you know that I’m not really Captain Jack Harkness - or at least I wasn’t born him. I’m not about to judge you. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.’ He does understand, as best as anyone could, probably, and he accepts it without censure or disapproval. He isn’t a hypocrite, or at least not about this, and he knows what it’s like, to create an identity - for whatever reason - and find you actually becoming the person you pretend to be, especially since, so often, that identity is something of who you would like to be, or reveals a part of you generally hidden.
They fall quiet, and it’s pleasant, comfortable. Jack will always be willing, happy, to listen to whatever Ianto wants to tell him, but at the same time he doesn’t need to be told. He is perfectly happy with what he knows, what he discovers about him during daily life.
When Ianto begins speaking again, without prompting, the words are quiet, and there is a strange, wonderful sense of intimacy in this half-confession made in the dark. ‘I never really ... fit. Too quiet. I tried - that shoplifting charge, and I probably could have done better in school if I’d wanted. But when dad died I didn’t see the point in trying anymore, and I got out as quick as I could, but then, well, I suppose I still wanted to fit in, blend in, so I created a whole life that sort of ... suited me, that I could be proud of and kept me from standing out.’
He can see this, Ianto, on an estate, quiet, neat, set apart from the louder, brasher personalities, trying to match them and always feeling different. Of course he left when the chance came, and it is no surprise that he made himself a past that is more suited to his personality. He ended up growing to fit that past completely, because it had not been a surprise when Ianto had said his father was a master tailor; Jack had thought, yes, that makes sense.
‘Thank you. Thank you for ... giving me this part of yourself.’ And it’s true, all he has is gratitude, because it is yet another part of Ianto, something he never knew, and it’s wonderful.
‘You don’t think of me any differently?’ There is a tiny note of uncertainty in his voice, and Jack pulls him closer, holds him tighter.
‘It’s your past, and it’s part of you, but it doesn’t change who you are, who I know you to be. Nothing could ever do that. It’s who we - you - are now that matters, not who you were in the past or where you come from.’
The past doesn’t really matter, although he appreciates Ianto telling him, the trust it shows, the illumination it gives him as to what has made Ianto the way he is. But in the end, it’s irrelevant. Jack knows Ianto now, and he is a brave, thoughtful man with a biting, sarcastic wit and keen intelligence, who seems - and often is - quiet, but hides a passionate side, a mischievous, devious one that Jack loves to provoke. He is some odd, perfect blend of light and dark, awful experience and youthful innocence and wonder.
Jack knows that he’ll probably never say it, but he loves Ianto Jones.