(Untitled)

[1000_cranes]

Charlie's not naturally the tidiest person in the world; she sort of thrives on clutter. She knows that it drives Ianto mad so she's learned to pick up after herself and, today, she's padding around in shorts and one of his t-shirts, gathering up armfuls of art supplies and textbooks, putting them back where they go. It's hot today and she's a

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[coffee_sir]

He came home shortly thereafter, mind full of plans for Jack's party, and breezed through the doorway, Banon at his heels. Calling her name, Ianto glanced quickly into the open bedroom and, seeing no one, altered his course for the library.

"What are you up to, love?" he asked with a curious cant of his head. It took him but a second to recognize the sad and weary lines of her body, and his light mood was pulled down by concern. "Charlie?"

[1000_cranes]

"I can't..." She touches her forehead with a trembling hand and it's as though the narrow scar means nothing at all.

"I just..." Her mouth trembles and she holds the file out to him. "I can't."

[coffee_sir]

Kneeling down beside her, Ianto took the folder with a questioning look to Charlie before reading the label. It could have meant anything really: police record, school record, IRS accounting, or, the more sinister, file kept by people watching people like Charlie. But with where their focus had been in the last few weeks, Ianto's conclusion came quickly and without question.

Medical records.

And, as when facing any ugly truth, Ianto's reaction was automatic. "Do you want me to get rid of them?"

[1000_cranes]

At first, Charlie nods automatically but then she finds herself shaking her head. She looks up at him with tears on her face. There's nobody else she trusts so well in the whole entire world.

"I need you to look at what it says, first," she says.