Forgotten - 4/4
As Jack laid the now-dry Ianto down on the bed, he took hold of Ianto’s left hand.
“Ianto? I’m going to give you that massage now ok? I’m going to use the baby oil from your bathroom. When you wake up tomorrow, we’re going to have a long and potentially interesting discussion on what you’re doing with baby oil in your bathroom, but for now I want you to relax. I’ve got you. If you fall asleep, it’s ok. I promise this will help loosen your muscles so you won’t be as sore tomorrow.”
Still Ianto made no noise. His eyes were in Jack’s direction, but seemed to be staring at something behind Jack. Obviously caught in some other memory, Jack just hoped it wouldn’t lead to a nightmare. The best thing for Ianto now would be an uninterrupted, dreamless sleep.
Jack turned Ianto gently so that he was on his stomach, a few pillows under his chest to take the stress off his ribs. Jack flicked the cap on the baby oil bottle open and warmed some of the sweet smelling liquid between his hands. Kneeling next to Ianto on the side of the bed, Jack was struck by Ianto thin frame. Owen was right; Ianto’s vertebrae were prominent. Jack swallowed audibly as tears formed unbidden in his eyes. Here was a member of his team in pain. Someone who had cared for, fed, and cleaned up after Jack (including the occasional suicide attempts after difficult missions) without complaint or reproach, and Jack had never thought to ask who cared for, fed, and cleaned up after Ianto.
Slowly, softly announcing his movements the entire time, Jack placed his hands on Ianto’s good shoulder and began giving his upper arm a massage. Working out the tense muscles, Jack traced on finger long the ridge of tendon, wondering once again what it would be like to do this if Ianto was in a better condition. He moved his hands down Ianto’s arm, eventually massaging the small muscles between Ianto’s fingers. Once that was done, he moved to Ianto’s legs. Starting at the ankles, he took his time, ensuring that he was being careful with every bruise, yet working deep enough to relieve the tight muscles. He spent nearly three quarters of an hour on Ianto, yet the man had not once uttered a sound. Jack looked up from his work to see Ianto staring at the pulled curtains on the bedroom window, apparently contemplating the great complexities of life to be found in the hazy light streaming through the cotton fabric.
Jack gently cupped Ianto’s face and dropped his head to look in Ianto’s eyes. For the first time since the bath, Ianto actually seemed to see Jack.
“Ianto,” he said. “It’s ok. You’re safe. You’re safe and home and alive. Think happy thoughts, nice thoughts. Go to sleep now. I’ll be here when you wake up, ok?”
Ianto looked at him and narrowed his eyes. He seemed to be considering Jack’s words, though Jack wondered whether it was the “safe and alive” or “I’ll be here” part that Ianto was questioning. Before Jack could ask, Ianto nodded once slowly against the pillow and closed his eyes. Almost immediately he was asleep.
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It didn’t take long for the nightmares to start. Jack sat in an old armchair in the corner of the bedroom, curiously flipping through an old photo album of Ianto’s childhood, noticing the distinct lack of a mother once Ianto hit puberty. Jack had been so lost in these new images of Ianto that he didn’t notice the telling signs of a nightmare-in-progress. It wasn’t until Ianto cried out that Jack looked up, sprang from his chair, and ran to Ianto’s side. The man was thrashing about in his bed, and at the moment, Jack was more worried about any further physical damage Ianto could do, rather than the mental demons he was facing.
Jack placed one hand on Ianto’s face and the other around his waist, trying to keep him still. “Ianto. Ianto! Wake up, Ianto! You’re safe!”
Ianto’s eyes scrunched further shut and he started screaming. “Please! No! Let me out! Lisa!”
“Ianto!” Jack started shaking the young man until he finally woke up. Ianto looked at him, took a shuddering breath, and ran to the bathroom as fast as his sprained knee would allow, slamming the door shut with a decisive crash. Jack could hear the sound of retching. When he tried to open the bathroom door, he found it locked. Instead of pounding, he sat with his back against it and listened as Ianto finished, flushed, and brushed his teeth. He heard the lock click open, and stood up, watching as Ianto eased himself into the bedroom.
“Alright?” Jack asked gently, placing one hand on Ianto’s lower back and guiding him towards the bed.
“Fine, Sir.” Ianto shook off Jack’s hand and limped away. “You can go back to the Hub, Sir. I’m fine.”
“Oh Ianto, you are so not fine.”
“It’s really alright, Sir. I won’t be going back to sleep tonight, so you can go. Honest. I’m sure you can find some other way to entertain yourself. Might I suggest the clubs on St. Mary’s street? If I remember correctly, they were quite popular when I was younger.”
“I’m not going to a club, Ianto, and I certainly know how to entertain myself.” Ianto lifted an eyebrow as he slowly walked to the sitting room. He held onto the wall to keep himself steady, faltering once or twice when his knee tried to give out.
“Then perhaps you can use the time to accomplish some of that paperwork that waits for you-“
“Ianto, enough! I’m staying here and that’s final! And if I have to order you to sit down, I will dammit!”
At this, Ianto finally snapped. He perched on the edge of his sofa, gently cradling his right arm against his chest to try and stop the pain of his ribs. “All due respect, Sir, in my home you are not my Captain and your orders mean nothing!”
“That’s more like it!” Jack nodded happily. “The famous veneer finally cracks! Now let’s see what the real Ianto Jones is like.”
Ianto took a deep breath, refusing to get angry. Even in pain, especially in pain, he would retain his calm. “Thank you for your concern, sir, but your presence here is no longer required.” Ianto stood up, moving towards the kitchen. Suddenly his knee gave out and he collapsed to the floor. Jack ran to his side as Ianto cried out in pain. His broken arm crashed against the kitchen tile, and the vibrations jarred his ribs.
Jack held him cradled against his chest as Ianto tried, and failed, to catch his breath. Jack whispered nothings in his ear, words that may have meant something a thousand years and a million lightyears away, but to Ianto’s pain-filled mind, meant nothing more than comfort.
“Easy, Ianto, easy. Don’t take deep breath, it’ll hurt more,” Jack began saying. “Feel my chest. Can you feel it? Breathe like me, follow my lead. In and out, in and out. Just like that.”
It could have been two minutes, or it could have been two hours, but finally Ianto felt the pain subside and his breathing even out.
“No longer required, eh?” Jack smirked. He helped Ianto stand, then guided him to sit on the couch.
“Ok, I guess we’re going to have this talk now then,” Jack said, sitting on the coffee table across from Ianto. “Ianto, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for what happened.”
“Not your fault, Sir. No one knew it was cannibals-“
“That’s not what I meant, Ianto, though I am so sorry for what they did to you. I meant that I’m sorry for not getting you help sooner, for just leaving you to find your own way home, for ignoring that you in the SUV, for leaving you at the hospital, for forgetting about Canary Warf, for all those things and so much more. I failed you, Ianto. I’m your Captain, and I was supposed to see you, to notice that you were in pain, hurting, to make time for you, but I didn’t. I never did. You’ve seen so much, not just in Cardiff, but in London, far more than any of the others. Even when you begged for Retcon that day with the coffee, I never thought about your scars. I never saw it; I didn’t want to see it. I saw your suits and I saw your ass and I saw the way that everything was just easier with you around, but I never saw you. And for that, I am so very, very sorry.”
“You’re sorry you didn’t see me sir, that you didn’t make time for me? Why should you have? I’m not the techie or the medic or the field officer. I’m support, Sir. You weren’t supposed to see me.”
“But I should have! Damn Ianto, I should have!”
“Sir-“ Ianto made an attempt to answer but his dry throat didn’t want to cooperate. His coughs turned painful as his breath hitched. Jack reached out to steady him, but Ianto pulled away from his touch.
“Ianto?” Jack asked, concerned.
“M’alright, Sir, m’alright.”
“No, you’re really not. Please Ianto, just let me help you for a little while longer.” Jack grasped Ianto’s hands and his face begged Ianto to listen to him.
“I don’t know how, sir.”
“How to do what, Ianto?”
“To ask for help. I don’t know how to ask for help.”
“You don’t have to ask, Ianto. I’m here, I’m offering.” Jack placed a hand softly on the back of Ianto’s neck, sliding to his knees on the floor.
Ianto looked away, turning his head to look out the window. “A man doesn’t ask for help,” he whispered.
Unwilling, or perhaps afraid, to break the silence, Jack asked softly, “Who told you that, Ianto?”
“Tad….before he died. He wanted me to be a proper gentleman. He and his new wife were visiting me in London. I told him I was going to ask Lisa to marry me, asked for his help with the wedding. She always wanted a big wedding.”
“And he told you men don’t ask for help?”
“Men figure out a way. They work hard, don’t make trouble, they figure out a way,” Ianto softly insisted, still staring out the window and refusing to look at Jack.
Jack moved one hand to the side of Ianto’s face, pulling him back to look in his eyes. “Ask me,” he begged.
“Jack….”
“I’m here. I’m right here.” Jack pulled Ianto into a gentle embrace, careful of causing as little discomfort as possible. He held Ianto for a few moments as the younger man rested his head on Jack’s shoulder. “I see you now, Ianto. I see you.”
“Will you sleep again, Ianto?” Jack asked after softly stroking Ianto’s back. Ianto shook his head in response. “Come back to the bed. We don’t have to sleep. We’ll just lay for a while. I know a few things about keeping nightmares away.”
“Sexual. Harassment. Sir. Surely I don’t need to remind you twice in one night,” Ianto said. Jack could feel him smirking against his shoulder.
Jack pulled back, grinning the patented Jack Harkness grin. “Maybe you should remind me, Ianto. Maybe you should remind me of every single outlawed position.”
Ianto looked away in embarrassment, the few bruise-free spots on his face blushing an attractive shade of pink. Jack could sense his obvious discomfort and smiled gently.
“Come on, Ianto. Nothing happens, and I mean nothing, unless you ask for it. I promise. No motives, no hidden agenda. Just you and me, keeping each other’s nightmares away.” Jack stood, holding out a hand for Ianto to grab.
Ianto turned back and looked at Jack’s hand for a long time. Jack could almost see as Ianto processed everything that had happened. He watched as Ianto cleared his throat. He lifted his left arm and slowly placed his hand in Jack’s allowing himself to be pulled to his feet.
Ianto watched their entwined hands for a moment, and, finally looking up at Jack’s face, said, “Owen can never know about this, Sir. I caught hell when he found out that I slept with a teddy bear as a child. I refuse to let him know about this.”
“Aww, Ianto, can’t I be your teddy bear,” Jack smiled laviciously. Ianto just rolled his eyes.
“Come on,” Jack said softly as he coaxed Ianto back into the bedroom. He was pulled to a stop when Ianto tugged on his arm.
“I may be concussed, Sir, and I may have been beaten, and I was almost turned into beef patties. But there is no way I’m letting someone on my bed and my Egyptian cotton sheets with their dirty, muddy boots. Off with them!”
“Yes Sir!” Jack saluted. If Jack had one skill, it was undressing quickly. He put this skill to use, untying his laces with practiced ease.
When he looked up, he saw Ianto lying in bed, watching him warily. Jack smiled a small, real, smile and pulled the covers back. “Alright, Ianto?”
“Yes, Sir.”
Jack lay down and gently pulled Ianto towards him. “Nothing happens unless you want it to, Ianto. But for now, I almost lost you, and I’d really like to know that you’re alive. Sleep if you want, don’t if you want. Whatever. Just close your eyes.”
Jack watched as Ianto forced himself to relax. Jack hummed softly, carding one hand through Ianto’s hair and using the other hand to softly stroke Ianto’s back. He felt, rather than heard, Ianto’s breaths even out. Ianto slept. Jack had lived a long time, certainly longer than anyone other than the Doctor, the Guardians and the Eternals, but there was little in his life he was truly proud of. But this, getting Ianto to sleep peacefully, seeing that young man look just a bit less frightened, giving him some sense of rest, that was something he would treasure.