Forgiven - 1/?
After Jack sent Mary to the sun, Ianto was left to interview Tosh. He was quiet, and considerate, rubbing her back as she cried and somehow coming up with an endless supply of tissues. He was kind, but thorough, the only one of the team not to blame Tosh for her indiscretion. Tosh was still raw, Ianto could see that; he knew the rawness, knew how it could eat at your soul. At the end of the interview, Tosh asked for a few minutes alone to compose herself. Ianto readily agreed and, walking out onto the metal gantry met Owen and Gwen, asking them to be discrete. Owen sneered and Gwen blushed. Ianto knew something was going on between them, and he could only image that was what Tosh had heard. It was still only three weeks since the Beacons after all, not nearly long enough for the honeymoon phase of an affair to end. They were both still riding on the thrill and danger of it all. He made a mental note to keep an eye on them and stock up on Twizzlers. Tosh’s favorite candy, they would come in handy at cheering her up if Owen and Gwen were callous. Tosh had kind to him when his arm was still in a cast; thank god for those ossification tablets though. He’d remembered why he’d hated casts; anything to get the bone to grow back faster was a good thing in his book.
He was surprised, though, that Jack still held the apparently obligatory debriefing in the conference room. He was also surprised that Gwen’s concern for her fellow man (or, in this case, woman) re-emerged, which, as expected, degenerated into a ‘you killed a woman and hurt Tosh” versus ‘it was the only way’ match. Which then brought up the unresolved argument over the faeries; it seemed that not even a trip to see the local cannibals could wipe that memory from Gwen’s psyche.
Gwen and Jack stood face to face, so close they could feel the anger seeping off each other. Tosh and Owen sat still, neither really watching what was happening. Tosh was resigned and quiet, still working through the day in her mind. Owen….well, Owen was Owen. Loud, snarky, and abrasive, he could handle the dirtiest autopsy, human, alien, or interspecies. But now, as he watched the hurt and pain in Tosh’s face, he was reminded of Katie and a similar devastation. He had nothing further to add. Literally. His mind had shut down, protecting him, as it always did, when the memories of Katie emerged.
Finally Jack pulled rank and ordered the three teammates to go home. Tosh and Owen couldn’t wait to get out, couldn’t wait to be in the open air and breathe the clean coolness that was a Cardiff night. They scurried out, each holding their breaths until they reached the pavement, as if they were afraid the air inside the Hub would somehow poison them. Perhaps it would; the cavernous area was, after all, underground and despite Ianto’s best cleaning techniques, not even he could always keep up with the mold.
It took longer for Gwen to leave. She continued ranting and fuming the entire time she walked to her desk, pocketed her belongings, put on her coat, and pulled out her keys. She was determined to get Jack to admit the horror of what had happened. She didn’t understand. No one did. Jack knew death and love, had seen them in wartimes, had witnessed them in Boeshane. But he knew, oh he knew, what the alien would do. The last time he’d almost destroyed the world for selfish reasons, it had involved a child, a boy who only wanted to save his mother. This time, it was a woman and possibly Tosh’s soul. Jack grimaced as he thought, At least I’m not sexist. Equal opportunity killer, me.
He wandered into his office, pulling out the battered old memory box. He remembered Estelle giving it to him after seeing the mess he’d made of his memories. Old photographs crumpled in pockets, trinkets from far away lands (he could never tell her just how far, of course) dusty and nicked from being knocked around. Oh Estelle. He held up her photo, the only one he’d allowed himself to keep. The one of her as she was, as he wanted to remember her. Smiling and happiness and fun radiating the bent corners and fading sepia coloring. Even in black and white her smile could light up a room.
So lost in thought, Jack never heard Ianto’s knock, nor saw him leave a tray of coffee and sandwiches by the door. The only thing Jack could see, hear, smell, was the scotch in one hand and the old photography paper in the other. After a few hours of brooding and remembering, Jack forced himself to stand. He was an old pro at grieving, and he knew that one needed to move. Stillness let the dreams come. Stillness brought the nightmares.
Thinking the night couldn’t get any worse and that a little roof-time excursion was in order, Jack grabbed his greatcoat from the hanger and opened the door. And proceeded to step right onto Ianto’s tray. He looked down at the smashed sandwiches beneath his boot. The only thing he could think of was that Ianto would be pleased he hadn’t broken the mug. That would put Ianto’s mug roster out of order. Which would lead to Tesco brand coffee for Jack. Jack sighed and sat down, back against the wall as he looked out over his Hub, his home.
He knew it was late, knew that he had sent everyone home. He was, therefore, understandably surprised to hear laughter. Thinking that the faeries or some other alien had come to his Hub, and deciding it was high time to finally wage war on the winged bastards, Jack grabbed his Webley and silently ambled over to the noise.
He stopped at the bottom of the ladder to the pterodactyl’s nest. In all the time she had been at the Hub, Jack had never once gone into her domain. Apparently she was still a bit peeved at his attempt to sedate her. He had learned the hard way (and dammit, Ianto hadn’t been able to fix those trousers. Jack had loved those trousers! And the briefs!) that Myfanwy tolerated his presence only in that Ianto trained her not to bite anything not dipped in her protein sauce. Jack had spilled some once, nasty smelling stuff, and it had taken Ianto a full forty-five minutes of cajoling and soothing the animal before she’d decided Jack was more trouble than he was worth. It had taken Ianto another twenty minutes to convince Jack to come out from under his desk. And Ianto was the only one who hadn’t made fun of Jack for a week after.
Deciding that the continued safety of both the Hub and Earth demanded he track the intruders and enter the pterodactyl’s nest, Jack pocketed the Webley and began climbing. Just before his hands could reach the top rung and pull himself up, he stopped. He could hear a voice. Not an alien voice, a voice he knew, a voice he assumed he had remembered to send home. He decided discretion was the better part of valor and that a little spying wouldn’t be amiss in such a situation. Wrapping his arms around the rung, he got comfortable and waited.
“Oh Fan,” the voice said, “you should have seen it. I think it was the first time I’d laughed since….well, you know when. I don’t have to remind you. I mean, here it is, half 2 in the morning, me out for my nightly constitutional, and this man comes running out of the building in a clown costume! He crashes right into me and says, ‘Sorry Mate! Hen Night! The boss didn’t prepare me well enough for this!’ I had no idea clowns were so in demand!”
Jack smiled when he heard Ianto laugh again. He could hear Myfanwy cooing and rustling around.
“Easy, cariad, easy. I know it’s been a long few days. You can tell how upset everyone is, can’t you? Are pterodactyl’s psychic? Hartman would have had a field day with you. Don’t worry. They’ve faced death before, well, not Gwen as much, but you know what I mean. Come tomorrow they’ll be back to normal. Well, not Tosh, of course. She’s broken, Fan. We’ll have to help her. I know she misses her mam; maybe we could arrange something? Something small, something accidental. I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it. But don’t worry about Owen and Gwen. Come morning you won’t have to worry about the yelling. I know how the yelling upsets you. Believe me, I know. I get to clean up after you, remember? We’ve got to find a way to perk up your delicate constitution.”
Jack smirked. Delicate constitution his ass. This was the thing that tried to eat a half-metal woman. Best not to remind Ianto of that, though.
“Ow Fan!”
Jack jumped, a difficult thing to do on a ladder, certainly.
“That’s my hand, not the fish head. If you wanted another you just have to ask. Here. You know, everything I read says you shouldn’t feed your pets late at night. You should be on a schedule. Granted, everything I read is for dogs, cats, cows, and horses. Not like there’s an ‘Idiot’s Guide to Raising Your Pteranadon’ just lying around the bookshops, eh? Maybe I should write one. You haven’t died yet, so I must be doing something right. Could use the royalties to pay off my bills.”
Jack waited for a while as Ianto remained silent. He contemplated why Ianto would need to pay off bills. Torchwood paid pretty well, and Ianto would have received a stipend from London’s ‘hush fund’ after Canary Warf. Ianto owned his house outright, and while the furniture was old and faded, it was certainly useable. He remembered Ianto’s battered couch from the night he spent after the cannibals. He’d always meant to take Ianto out to lunch or dinner after that, always meant to do something other than say thank you for his coffee. Still, the little extra bit of attention Jack was giving was paying off; before the cannibals, Ianto hadn't spoken up until the mushrooms. Now he was coming closer to the group, but was still so very far away. Jack would have to remember the mushroom comment, remember to acknowledge the steps Ianto was trying to take. Still trying to work out why Ianto had bills, though, Jack almost missed Ianto’s quiet admission to Myfanwy.
“You know….I think you’re my only real friend here, Fan. London…London was different. You’d have never known I was the office flirt, eh? Went out three or four times a week to the pubs with friends. Lisa…oh god, Lisa….she thought I’d cheated on her one night. I didn’t, but it took Stephie from HR pulling up the CCTV from the pub to show that I’d gone home alone. I’d never seen Lisa jealous before. I think I kind of liked it…….How do you do it Fan? You’re all alone, literally the last of your kind. We kidnapped you. We brought you here, trapped you underground. You should be out, flying. You must be so lonely……”
Jack took a deep breath, fully prepared to go and talk Ianto out of his apparently blue mood.
“I never blamed you.”
Jack stopped moving.
“It wasn’t your fault. I trained you to eat anything with that sauce on it. How could I blame you? I’m so sorry Fan, so very sorry for all of it. I tried to tell the others, but they don’t want to hear it. And then the cannibals and now this. So instead I try to do anything and everything for them. Show them and maybe they’ll listen then. But you, you do listen. You’re the only one, and I am so very sorry.”
Myfanwy chirrped.
“Yes, thank you,” Ianto continued drolly. “Just what I needed, dinosaur spit on my jacket. How do I explain this one to the dry cleaners, eh? I guess I can take this as you accepting my apology then?”
Jack could hear Ianto shuffling about, collecting the buckets that held Myfanwy’s dinner. He scrambled back to the ground, but not quick enough to miss Ianto’s next line.
“You won’t tell them, will you? You won’t. I have to be invisible. If I’m invisible I can support them. If I’m invisible they won’t notice I’m here. If I’m not noticed, maybe they won’t hate me. Sleep well, cariad. I’ll see you in the morning. Or rather, later on this morning. If Jack ever really forgives me instead of feeling sorry for me, I’ll see if I can convince him to let you out some nights. Just promise you won’t run away, ok? Not sure I could take it, being really alone.”
Jack ran up the stairs to his office, waiting for Ianto to pass by. When Ianto finally decided that Myfanwy’s food bucket was clean enough and left it at the small sink at the bottom of the eyrie, Jack called out to him. Ianto turned quickly, fully expecting Jack to be either in a drunken stupor at this point or out on a roof somewhere.
“Sir? I left you some coffee and sandwiches, though the coffee may be cold by now. Would you like a fresh cup?”
Jack shook his head, surprised, and yet not, at how quickly Ianto had been able to hide his melancholy. It wasn’t fast enough though. Just before he answered, Jack was able to see the bone-deep exhaustion written on the man’s face.
“It’s late, Ianto, you should be at home.”
“On my way, Sir. Just had to finish a few things. I’ll be back in a few hours, Sir. Have a good night.”
“Ianto, wait! What about breakfast?”
Ianto raised his eyebrow and looked at his pocketwatch. “It’s gone midnight, Sir. Unless you’ve somehow moved Cardiff to California and are using Los Angeles time, it’s either a bit early or extremely late for breakfast. However, if you’d like, I can arrange for Jubilee Pizza to drop off a Hawaiian on my way out? You’d just have to tell the delivery person to put it on Torchwood’s tab.”
“I meant breakfast for both of us, Ianto,” Jack said, rolling his eyes. “And I know what time it is. But there’s a 24-hour place not far from here. Care to join me?”
“I….I….I don’t think that would be a good idea, Sir. I’ve been awake for nigh on 48 hours. If you want me to remember your coffee orders tomorrow I’ll need a bit of rest.”
Jack frowned, fully expecting Ianto to comply with his impromptu breakfast request. “Oh, ok then. Have a good night Ianto.”
Jack watched as Ianto worried his lower lip between his teeth. His expression resigned and frightened, Ianto looked as though he’d finally reached a decision. “You gave the others the morning off, Sir. If you’ve nothing else planned…I mean, if you’re not busy…perhapswecouldmeetforbreakfastontheQuay?” Ianto finished in a nervous rush.
Jack frowned for a moment, trying to work out exactly what Ianto had mumbled so quickly. Then he smiled a full Harkness grin. “I’d like that very much Ianto. Say, 10am? We can meet by the benches on the dock.”
“10am it is, Sir.” With a quick nod, Ianto spun on his heel and exited the Hub. Jack watched as Myfanwy careened down next to him and chirruped in a rather threatening way.
“I know, I know. Hurt him and you hurt me. What are you gonna do, make me an offer I can’t refuse? I go to bed and wake up with a horse head on my pillow?” Jack rolled his eyes and walked back into his office, fully prepared that tomorrow he’d finally make Ianto a complete member of the team.