Forgiven - 6/?
Ianto set foot in the Hub at exactly 7am, carrying two suit bags in one arm and leading a wheeled suitcase in the other. He was shocked to see Owen sitting on the sofa, but he wasn’t surprised to see how angry Owen was. The medic was swearing and muttering to himself about damn captains taking tea-boys on last minute vacations. Just as Ianto was about to walk over to Owen and ask if he’d rather attend a UNIT conference and share a room with a sex-ed up Captain surrounded by men and women in uniform, said Captain bounded down his office stairs and over to Owen holding three sheets of A4 paper.
“Here ya go, Owen,” he said, curiously enthusiastic for 7am. “A list of everything that needs to get done this week. I even alphabetized it!”
Owen grabbed the papers and stared incredulously at the single-spaced type. “Are you fucking kidding me?! I’m a medic for chrissakes! What’s this one, flea bath for the pterodactyl? How would a pterodactyl get fleas?!”
“It’s preventative. Now we know she won’t,” Ianto answered. Last thing he needed, Jurassic-era fleas. He was convinced that at the end of the world, the only things surviving would be cockroaches, Jack, Keith Richards, and fleas. Damn buggers were damn hard to kill.
“And this!” Owen continued as if he hadn’t heard Ianto, “Clean out the weevil cages, fine, I can handle that. But fix leaking pipes in duct in subsection 14b? Where the hell is subsection 14b?”
“Just past subsection 14a, but before subsection 14c,” Ianto responded. He’d been meaning to get that duct fixed for months now. With Owen on the job, he rather anticipated having to replace the entire Hub system upon his return.
As Owen continued to read the list, infusing his mutterings with more swear words than Ianto even knew, Jack turned and looked an Ianto’s bags.
“Let’s go put them in the car and head out,” he said, motioning for Ianto to follow. Just as he and Ianto were at the cog door, he turned and called out to Owen. “Oh, Owen, Hub rules while I’m away! Number 1, no wild parties unless you film ‘em and send me a copy! Number 2, no antagonizing the pterodactyl. Number 3, no destroying Cardiff. Have fun! And don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”
“Leaves him a pretty small list not to do then,” Ianto said sotto voce. He was drowned out by the cog door opening.
“Um, Sir,” Ianto began as the pair walked into the tourist office. “We have to leave the SUV here. Will we be taking my car?”
Jack looked at Ianto aghast. “You want us to show up at a UNIT base… where there are soldiers… in a Mini? No way! I rented us a car!” he finished proudly.
Ianto stared at Jack for a moment. Jack was obviously proud that he had managed to successfully rent a vehicle. Ianto, however, was reminded of Lisa’s nephew Stefan. The last time Ianto had seen Stefan, the five-year-old had just handed him a Play-Doh mold of his hand. Jack and Stefan had the same facial expression.
Ianto shook himself out of his reverie and said, “Alright then, Sir. What type of car did you get us?”
Jack just motioned to the Tourist Center parking lot. Ianto had parked in the garage and hadn’t noticed the cherry red sports convertible sitting outside. He sighed, saying, “Will you be paying for this with Torchwood funds, Sir? I may have to shift some of the expenses around.”
“Uh-uh, Ianto. I paid for this one my own. With my ATM card! I went to RBC and met the Goldstone’s and everything! I even met the baby.”
“You do know, Sir, that having an ATM card means you are no longer required to go in person to the bank,” Ianto said as he fit his bags in next to Jack’s already packed ones.
“But I like the people. An ATM is so impersonal,” Jack replied as he sat in the driver’s seat and put the top down. “Come on, time to go!”
The drive to the UNIT base took three hours. In the meantime, Jack quizzed Ianto about the files he had been given to review. After an hour of questioning Ianto only to get the correct answers, Jack finally decided to stump him by asking a compete non sequitor. In the middle of a conversation about converting the hair dryer into a bazooka and all the technical requirements that entailed, included the various necessary objects from the archives and their relevant archival file numbers, Jack asked, “And what type of coffee does Colonel Mace drink?”
“Peruvian, Sir. He prefers it black in the early mornings, but with three sugars and one cream at lunch. In the afternoon he switches to decaffeinated tea as his wife convinced him that his blood pressure was too high.”
Jack slammed the car to a stop and looked at Ianto. “How the hell do you know that?”
“Must we really play the ‘Ianto Jones Knows Everything Game”, Sir?”
Jack just continued to stare at him. Ianto sighed and launched into his explanation. “The last UNIT conference you attended, your Webley was in for repairs and you felt naked without it. You had me drive to London to deliver it, and let me charge the Torchwood expense account for lunch in the hotel’s restaurant. I met Mrs. Mace at the restaurant. The Colonel had been called away from lunch by a telephone call. We chatted at the bar, she invited me over to her table, and we talked. She’s a lovely woman, Sir, but a bit deaf in her left ear. When I was done, I told her to have a nice evening, and she thought I was complimenting the beading on her scarf. On that note, Sir, Lieutenant General McCavanaugh, the Queen’s advisor, will be attending this seminar. I suggest you speak slowly and enunciate as the man is a bit deaf as well. Last time you met, you suggested he have a good day and he thought you asked if he was gay. You wouldn’t believe how long it took before my calls were put through to the Queen after that.”
Jack just shook his head. “You really do know everything.” Ianto smirked, and Jack continued on driving.
When they finally arrived, Ianto looked around as Jack pulled up to the guard gate. Three relatively young soldiers carrying very large rifles gathered around the car, checking Jack and Ianto’s credentials. As the lead soldier typed their names into a database, Ianto looked around at the scenery. How can you have a secret base with a big black and white sign that says Unified Intelligence Taskforce in bold letters? At least the SUV is black-on-black, he thought. Finally, after much flirting from Jack (rebuffed by one soldier, encouraged by the other two), they were able to enter the complex.
Ianto looked around, taking in the buildings and guardposts. It looked exactly like the satellite imagery, and Ianto supposed he could find his way around at night just by having studied the terrain the day before. He saw, off to one corner, what appeared to be an old warehouse. He knew, from the photos, that it was actually the safehouse. With four guards constantly roaming around the perimeter and three sharpshooters on the roof (clearly visible due to the red cap against the grey sky), it was obvious that the building was being used for more than just a normal warehouse.
Jack pulled the car to a stop and hopped out. A young private came up to meet him with a clipboard. “Captain Harkness and Mr. Jones?” he asked.
“That’s us, Harkness and Jones! Sounds like a band, doesn’t it?” Jack leered. “Maybe you could be our groupie?”
“We have you on our list, Sir. If you’ll leave your bags, an orderly will take them to your room. If you’ll follow me, I’ll take you to the opening ceremony. They’ve just about finished with the speeches, but you should be in time for drinks and hors’ d’oeuvres,” the soldier responded. Ianto watched the soldier, convinced that he was familiar.
“That’s alright,” Ianto said smoothly. “If you’ll point me in the direction of the rooms, I’ll see to our bags. I can join the Captain at the reception after.”
“Really, Mr. Jones, please allow us to carry them for you,” the private responded a bit too eagerly.
Ianto looked at him again, noticing the strange familiarity. “I’m sorry, but you do seem awfully familiar. Have we met before?”
The private blushed. “Not exactly, Sir. I’m Frank Parsons. My brother, Thomas Parsons, worked with you in Canary Warf. He….well he told me about the battle, Sir. About how you got him and the other 5 from your department out. You saved their lives, Sir. You’re a hero!”
Ianto looked away in embarrassment. Jack took pity on him and said, “Thank you, Private Parsons, but we at Torchwood carry our own bags. If you’ll just have an orderly show us to the rooms…”
Parson nodded and motioned to the orderly standing behind him. The orderly helped get the bags from the car, but Ianto and Jack refused to let the man carry anything. As if we’d left UNIT get a hold of any Torchwood property! Ianto scoffed mentally.
Once the two were shown to their rooms, they unpacked quickly. Jack finished first, not worried about wrinkled clothes or hanging anything properly. He watched, fascinated, as Ianto studiously hung his suits and separated shirts, waistcoats, and ties by color, pattern, and fabric. He then gaped in surprise as Ianto pulled an electric teakettle, a small coffee grinder, a French press, and a bag of beans from the bottom of his well-packed suitcase.
“You brought coffee,” he stated rather than asked.
“I’ve had UNIT coffee before, Sir. I’ve often thought it could be used to replace motor oil in the SUV. Perhaps we should invest? It would certainly help with interagency cooperation.”
Jack just laughed, fully aware of the quality of UNIT coffee and secretly pleased that Ianto came prepared. “Come on then! Time to schmooze with the big boys!” Jack grabbed his greatcoat from the coat rack by the door and ushered Ianto outside.
“Remember what I said about Mrs. Mace and the Lieutenant General, Sir. We don’t want an incident this early on,” Ianto admonished.
“Ianto, Ianto, Ianto….” Jack drawled. “I’ll be on my best behavior. I promise.” With that, Jack placed a hand over his heart.
“Great. So there’ll only be three major incidents to defuse.”
“Oh ha ha ha. Very witty, Mr. Jones,” Jack said as they approached the conference room door. “Now let’s go impress our hosts!”
The reception was as boring as Ianto anticipated. Three hours of conversing with UNIT personnel and Ianto was ready to pull his hair out. The only entertainment was watching as Jack flirted his way through every guest, including the spouses. He paid special attention to Mrs. Mace, complimenting her new hair style and only speaking in her right ear. Ianto laughed to himself, leaning against the wall and sipping his gin and tonic, as Jack began speaking with Lieutenant General McCavanaugh. The old man apparently remembered Jack and refused to shake his hand, meet his eyes, or speak more than one word sentences to the Captain all night. Forgiven but not forgotten, Ianto thought. Either that or he has a secret crush on Jack. Wouldn’t surprise me.
Ianto was startled when the now-empty glass in his hand was exchanged for another. He looked over in shock at Private Parsons. Parsons blushed and mumbled, “Thought you could do with a refill, Mr. Jones.”
Ianto smiled a small smile at the young man. “Thank you, but you can call me Ianto.”
“I’d rather not, Sir. It’s just that, in my home…well….it would seem rude, Sir.”
Ianto cleared his throat. “How is Thomas, Frank?”
Frank looked away. “He’s…He’s in Providence Park. We thought he was doing ok, you know? I mean, he wasn’t great, but at least those ghosts hadn’t gotten him thanks to you. But the nightmares every night, the terrors, and then the hallucinations during the day…We thought for a while he was doing ok. Then I found him in the bathroom with an empty bottle of pills. My folks just couldn’t take care of him like he needed.”
“So many of them wound up in places like Providence Park. Most of the ones who weren’t Retconned. I try to visit them as often as I can, but I haven’t gone in a few months. I’ll go soon, go and see Thomas.”
“I think he’d like that, Sir,” Parsons said quietly. “Sir, if…I mean if you ever need anything, anything at all, no questions asked, I’m here.”
Ianto raised an eyebrow and Parsons blushed again. “My family owes you, Sir. You got Thomas out. And even if he’s in Providence Park, at least he’s alive. And sometimes when I visit it’s like it’s him again, you know?”
Ianto nodded and closed his eyes, trying to keep the memories at bay. He’d never spoken about the Battle, not even to the Institute-appointed therapist that had ordered three sessions. He’d never attended even one.
Jack was still talking (or rather, flirting outrageously) with McCavanaugh when he saw Parsons walk up to Ianto. He watched as Ianto first looked surprised at the new glass, and was silently pleased that someone had managed to surprise the normally unflappable Ianto Jones. Then his pleasure turned to concern as he watched Ianto’s face fall and squeeze his eyes closed. He decided it was time to get Ianto out of the reception and away from Parsons.
Parsons jumped as Jack grabbed his shoulder. “So, Ianto, making friends with the soldiers? That’s highly unorthodox. Would you two like me to find another room for tonight?”
Ianto just rolled his eyes as Parsons tried lamely to convince Jack that he wasn’t propositioning the secretary. Jack just laughed, patted Parsons on the back and sent him on his way.
“Thank you, Sir,” Ianto said quietly.
“Thought you could use an out. Looked like a pretty intense conversation. How about we blow this place and go outside?” Jack asked, smiling and pointing to the door.
“Would you like me to gain you access to a roof?” Ianto smirked as he began walking. The sun had set, but it was still warm enough on the autumn night to sit outside for a few minutes.
“Nah,” Jack said as they exited the reception room and went over to a small bench. “These roofs are run over by UNIT soldiers. I’d never get a quiet minute up there.”
“I thought that would be a positive thing?”
Jack just laughed. “So, what were you and Parsons taking about?” he asked, suddenly serious.
Ianto sighed. He had promised himself, that night after seeing to Tosh at her flat, that there would be no more secrets on his part. “He was talking about his brother, Tom. He tried to kill himself. Wound up in a mental home. I always meant to keep in touch, but…well…” he trailed off.
“Yeah, it’s a horrible feeling, isn’t it? I always meant to keep in touch with the boys I fought with in France and Germany. But you get back to your life and shit happens and suddenly it’s been 60 years and they’re almost all dead.”
Ianto nodded in response.
“I saw the Tower after, you know. I mean, Three was there, you know that, but I went around to every floor to assess the damage. I saw everything they did, everyone they killed. There’s this…presence…a room gets when it’s filled with dead people, the sweet tangy smell of blood and the burned, charred flesh, the silent stillness…” Jack said. He’d originally been speaking to Ianto, but suddenly images of trenches and battlefields and Gamestations filled his mind. He forgot about Ianto until the man jumped up and began walking away.
Jack blinked for a moment, registering that he was not, in fact, in the Bastogne, but on a UNIT base and that Ianto was practically running back to their room. “Hey, Ianto! Wait up!” With his long legs, he was able to reach Ianto with just a few running steps. He grabbed the man’s arm and spun him around.
Ianto’s expression was as broken and bleak as it had been after Lisa. The moon’s glow made the young man’s skin look pearlescent, but the night’s darkness couldn’t erase the red eyes or the lines in his forehead. “Please, Sir. I can’t. Don’t make me, please!” he begged.
Jack looked at him in confusion. “Make you what?”
“Don’t make me relive it, Sir. Don’t make me bring it up. Not here. Not where I can’t get away.” Ianto tried pulling away but Jack’s grip was too strong.
Suddenly Jack realized that he’d been speaking aloud about the small and the blood and flesh. “No, oh no, Ianto. I didn’t mean to make the memories come back. Honest. I didn’t even think I was saying anything. Please, look, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. I’ll never force you to.”
Ianto still had a haunted look on his face. Jack dropped his arm, pleased that Ianto didn’t run away. He took a step closer until his nose brushed Ianto’s. He took in the fear and distance in Ianto’s eyes, the same as he’d seen on men in war. That’s when he understood.
“You’ve never told anyone, have you?” he asked, his voice quiet but his face close enough that Ianto could hear. “You never saw anyone after, never had any help.” Ianto shook his head.
“Oh Ianto. Always so stoic. Know this: I will never ever make you talk about it, ok? But remember that I’ve been through war and disease and death so much more than the normal person. I’m probably the only one that could understand what happened. If you ever, and I do mean, ever, want to talk, day, middle of the night, when I’m out weevil hunting, anything, I am here to listen. I will drop absolutely anything, ok?”
“But why, Sir? I do my job, I file and make coffee and clean and-“
Jack placed a finger on Ianto’s lips and leaned back to put a small bit of distance between them. “I’m not concerned about your professional behavior, Ianto. If anything, you’re the perfect employee. Honestly, it’s a bit creepy sometimes, but hey, creepy works at Torchwood. I’m talking about you, Ianto Jones, not the archivist or the secretary or the coffee-maker. Just you.”
“But why?” Ianto cried. On some level he knew he was being unfair, knew that he was sounding like a child, but he honestly couldn’t fathom why anyone would want to ask him. Aside from the initial consultation with the therapist on-site, no one had ever asked. Ianto had simply locked the experience away, filing it under “Do Not Open Under Any Circumstances” and moved on. “Or have you?” that annoying little voice in his head asked. And damn it all if that little voice wasn’t right half the time.
“Because there were over eight hundred people working in that building. If we count Lisa, 28 survived. 16 asked to be Retconned, 3 committed suicide. 6, with Thomas Parsons, are in mental homes. 1 disappeared completely, and Lisa died. You’re the only one still functioning. And I am so very proud of you for that. But it’s a burden, Ianto, a terrible burden, and I’d hate to see you taken over by it.”
Ianto swallowed hard and nodded. He tilted his head to look up at the stars and the moon, full in the sky. “Jack,” he started quietly, “Everything we see from out there….It all tries to kill us. Is there anything that’s good?”
Jack looked up as well. “Yeah. There’s this man I know, smart, courageous, a true hero. He’s out there, doing his damndest to protect whoever he can. And there are aliens out there who really do mean no harm. I wish you could see it one day.” He looked back at Ianto and pulled the man’s face back to look in his eyes. “It’s been a long day. What say we get back to the room and shower? We need to be fresh tomorrow for more schmoozing.”
Ianto cleared his throat and began walking towards their room. Jack hurried to catch up. “They’ve scheduled a tour for us tomorrow, Sir. Perhaps we could use the time to explore?”
Jack smiled. “Great idea. We’ll check in with the guys at the Hub, make sure Cardiff and Owen are still standing, then do a bit of….” Jack lowered his voice and pushed a small button on his wriststrap to make sure than any bugs nearby where destroyed. (UNIT was a paranoid bunch, always bugging people….Jack had once found a bug in sewn into the waistband of his underwear after a conference. He went commando all week after that.) “…Recon,” he continued, now sure they weren’t being overheard. “And, I hate to ask this, but if you can make any use out of Parsons….we need to get that hairdryer before UNIT decides to modify it and use it against an unsuspecting alien.”
“Could you imagine it, Sir?” Ianto smirked. “The alien walks up to the Colonel and the Colonel threatens to dry his hair.”
Jack’s laugh echoed across the grounds.