Forgotten - 3/4
Owen and Jack pulled up in front of a row of old Victorian townhouses on a quiet street in Roath. Ianto was number 13 (something that he often found either extremely ironic or extremely foreboding considering how his life was turning out lately). It took fifteen minutes of knocking and calling Ianto’s name before the door finally opened. Jack was about to resort to breaking in through the large picture window next to him, and had just told Owen to go find a large rock for that specific purpose.
When Owen heard the old door creak open, he turned on his heel and gasped. In the harsh light of day, Ianto looked even worse that he had in the hospital. He was obviously in pain, and Owen could see his knees beginning to buckle. Jack quickly pushed the door open and caught Ianto around the waist just as he was about to fall. Ianto cried out in pain as Jack’s arms encircled his broken ribs; Jack picked him up and carried him back inside, not stopping until he laid Ianto down on the battered couch in the sitting room. It was then that he noticed Ianto was only wearing a towel, and so, to preserve his secretary’s modesty, wrapped him up in the afghan that was currently sitting on the window seat.
“What the hell did you think you were doing?” Owen yelled, pushing Jack out of the way and reaching for Ianto’s wrist to take his pulse. “AMA? Seriously, you went AMA? Are you an idiot? Answer me, dammit!”
“I…I….I just wanted to go home. I just wanted to shower. The nurses said I’d be ok, you said I’d be better if I slept.” Ianto stared at Owen with large blue-grey eyes, hazy with pain medication and exhaustion. Owen had never had a little brother, but at that moment, felt like wrapping Ianto up in cotton wool. Either that, or slowly killing him for worrying Owen. Owen hated live patients. Dead patients didn’t possibly fuck themselves up by leaving the bloody hospital.
Owen grabbed Ianto’s chin, his hands trembling. “Do you have any idea what you could have done to yourself? Jesus Ianto! What if you’d tried climbing the stairs and fell?”
“I did climb the stairs. I crawled. I was fine. That’s why it took so long to get back down here.” And to Ianto, that sounded perfectly reasonable at the moment.
“Ianto, I swear to God-“
“Enough!” Jack yelled, arms crossed and eyes blazing. He knew that Owen was only acting out his fear for Ianto’s safety, but Ianto had no way of knowing that. “Owen, check him over. Make sure he hasn’t hurt himself. If he hasn’t, go back to the Hub. I’ll stay with him.”
With that, Owen began one of the most thorough medical investigations he could remember. He checked everything, including re-wrapping Ianto’s ribs and strapping frozen green beans (Ianto had an apparent aversion to peas after eating them for months while at Uni) around his knee. He even went so far as to hold up his hand and ask how many fingers Ianto could see. Ianto took a look, frowned as well as he could with his bruised face, and answered by saying, “That’s just rude Owen.”
“He needs rest. Take him to bed Jack, and I don’t mean that carnally. I’ll check back in tonight before I go home. And for the love of God, get him to eat something. I can see his vertebrae.”
Once Jack heard Owen close the front door and start the SUV, he turned back to Ianto.
“So, Ianto, how’s life?”
“I’m not currently being used as sausage stuffing, sir, so no complaints really,” Ianto answered. In truth, he was a bit confused as to why Jack was staying with him. Ianto always found thinking around Jack difficult, something to do with 51st century pheromones. Add to that the pounding headache and slight nausea, coupled with the fact that he and Jack were hardly friends, and the only reasons Ianto could come up with were farfetched to say the least.
Watching as Ianto’s expression went from perplexed to downright confused, Jack figured he should save the heart to heart for another time. “Sausage, right. You know, there are so many innuendos that can be made from that sentence. But you’re hurt, so I’ll give you this one. From now on, don’t make it so easy for me, ok? I take it you were about to take a bath?” Ianto nodded. “Ok, let’s get you upstairs then.” Jack reached down and, for the third time in as many days, picked Ianto up. He tried his best to ignore Ianto’s cry of pain at being moved; he learned in the trenches that it’s sometimes best to ignore certain things or else the job won’t get done.
Jack sat Ianto down on the toilet seat in the bathroom at the end of the hall on the second floor. He was impressed; the tub was ample, certainly large enough for two men. That, of course, led to fantasizing of Ianto in the tub, which had the potential for far more inventive imaginings. Jack quashed those by remembering that not only was Ianto bruised and beaten, but several large men had recently bit into his skin. While Jack was all one for a little play-biting, he doubted Ianto would think too kindly on Jack taking a small nibble on his shoulder, especially when half that shoulder was currently encased in a sling.
Ianto watched bemusedly as Jack fumbled with the tub’s faucet and drain. It reminded him of the time he and Lisa tried to fix the ailing pipes in their kitchen. That led to memories of Ianto being strapped to a conversion unit, which led to memories of knives coming down from the ceiling, which led to….
Jack took Ianto’s face in his hands. “Still with me Ianto?’
“Yes sir. Of course sir.” Ianto blinked rapidly to expel the images in his mind. “Sir, not to be rude, because really I’m not trying to be, and certainly don’t take this the wrong way, but why are you in my bathroom? Oh, and there go your pants. Ok then, I revise the question. Why are you nearly naked in my bathroom?”
“Because it’s your lucky day?” Jack grinned. “No, huh? Not gonna work? Ok then, here we go, the quick version of what I am sure will be a very long conversation once you’re clothed. You’ve been through hell. You muscles are stiff and burning. Outside of Owen’s ‘happy pills’, the best way to relax them is with a massage and a warm bath.” Jack pointed to the tub. “Here’s the bath. But the tub’s too big for me to give you a wash from out here, so I’m gonna have to come in with you. Not that I mind, though. You, me, bubbles, baby oil. If this wasn’t the worst possible time for it, I assure you I’d be coming on to you so hard and fast you wouldn’t remember your name.”
Ianto blinked. Then blinked again. Then nodded. His still-slightly-concussed brain was having trouble following Jack’s conversation. “Ooookay. I guess I’m wondering why you’re here instead of at the Hub?”
Jack brushed a stray lock of hair from Ianto’s face, revealing a large lump on his forhead. “Because even when I don’t act like it, especially when I don’t act like it, you’re a member of my team. I take care of my team Ianto. I failed you the other night, and I apologize. But I’m here now, and I’m gonna make sure that you’re ok. Besides, Mainframe and Tosh would kill me if I didn’t do everything I could to help.”
“This is wrong on so many levels,” Ianto said, shaking his head. At Jack’s raised eyebrow he continued, “You’re my boss. You’re my boss and I’m pretty sure if we were in the office, what you said before would be sexual harassment. You’re my boss and you’re naked, and you’re in my bathroom, and I think I’m about to be sick…”
With that, Ianto stood up, and, twisting hard enough to elicit a cry of pain, was sick in the bathroom sink. Jack jumped up and held him, stroking soothing circles on his bare back as Ianto vomited up bile. When Ianto was done, Jack held him as they fell to the floor, Ianto’s head resting on his chest. “Sorry Sir…”
“Don’t you dare, Ianto. Don’t you dare apologize.” Jack reached up and grabbed a cup, filling it with water from the bathtub faucet. He handed it to Ianto. “Here. Rinse your mouth out. I think we’ll do a quick bath. I want you horizontal as soon as possible.”
As Ianto swilled the water and spat into the toilet, his eyes closed. “Do I need to get you a copy of the Torchwood Sexual Harassment booklet, Sir? I think you filed it under either “U” for Unnecessary or ‘I’ for Irrelevant.” Jack was pleased when a small smile graced Ianto’s bruised lips.
“Tomorrow Ianto. Tomorrow I’ll go down to the Archives and pull the booklet, I promise.”
“Don’t you dare! The last time you went in my Archives, you filed everything under either ‘A’ for Alien or ‘H’ for Hot Alien. Took me two weeks to sort everything out.”
Jack laughed as he helped Ianto stand and pulled the towel from around his hips. That’s when he saw the bite marks. His hands drifted to them, tracing the cut skin and bruises. Ianto looked down and murmured, “Marking their spots. The parts they wanted. Said my ribs wouldn’t hold enough meat, but that thighs make a good dinner.”
“Shit Ianto. Shit,” Jack muttered, closing his eyes and pulling Ianto as close as possible without aggravating the broken ribs. He let out a long breath. “Ok, in the tub with you.”
As he lowered Ianto under the water, he was struck by the soft noises of happiness that Ianto made. The only noises Ianto ever made around him were the perfunctory, ‘Yes Sir’, ‘No Sir’ and the favorite, ‘I’m not sure it’s supposed to be smoking like that, Sir.’ This Ianto, this tactile, bruised, and oh-so-edible Ianto was something new and intriguing.
Jack grabbed the washcloth from the side of the tub and poured some soap, lathering up until there was enough foam. He then went over every bit of Ianto’s upper body, making sure to keep the cast-clad right arm dry. He wet Ianto’s hair, picked softly at the remains of the dried blood on the scalp and behind his left ear. When he finished with the upper body, he noticed that Ianto was drifting, lost in a world of half-sleep.
“Ianto,” he said softly. “I’m going to wash your legs now, ok? It’s just me.” With that, he moved the cloth lower to Ianto’s upper thighs. He felt, rather than saw, the moment that Ianto tensed. He looked up quickly, putting one hand on the side of Ianto’s face and drawing the man’s eyes towards his. “Just me Ianto. Just me. It’s ok. You’re safe now. You’re in your tub and you’re safe.”
“Jack?” Ianto said.
“I’m right here. Not going anywhere.”
“They touched me, Jack. Said they had a recipe for a pie. Said it would freeze well and last them through winter.”
“Oh Ianto. I’m so sorry. So very sorry. You’re safe now, ok. You’re safe.” Jack looked at the young man, worried about the lost, distant expression he saw on Ianto’s face. He moved the cloth to Ianto’s knees, careful of the swelling, and then in between his toes. Ianto was silent for the rest of the bath.