Sick Leave (2/4)
“Ianto please, I know something’s wrong, just let me in, I want to help. I’ll talk through the door if I have to, I don’t mind but I think you will” pleaded Jack, resting his forehead against the oak door as once again there was no response.
Under normal circumstances, Ianto would’ve answered the door on the first knock and would be making the coffee by now, but after ten minutes of hammering on the door and a confirmation that he was in, Jack had come to the conclusion that he was avoiding him. Not even Ianto could sleep through that. Which served to worry Jack further, for Ianto to not come into work and intentionally ignore people led Jack to believe he must be in a very bad way.
“Please, I’m scared, show me you’re okay and I’ll leave” murmured Jack softly, playing on Ianto’s emotions.
Gradually, he heard the key click hesitantly in the lock and the door slowly creaked open, granting him access. He assumed Ianto was on the other side as he walked in.
“See? Wasn’t that difficult was it?” said Jack, distractedly, noticing the usually immaculate dwelling was shaken and dishevelled very much like its owner who was closing the door, resolutely keeping his back to him, shoulders sagged. Everything about him exuded an aura of defeat, from the old tracksuit bottoms to the oversized long sleeved t- shirt which gave him an air of fragility.
“Ianto, Sweetheart, look at me, please?” coaxed Jack, tentatively, worried by the younger man’s demeanour.
Gradually, Ianto composed himself and slowly turned to look at the Immortal, head bowed, his usual spark extinguished as he silently allowed Jack to take in he extent of the attack; the jagged cuts, the vicious bruising and painful swellings. Closing his eyes when tears of shame threatened to fall.
“What happened?” murmured Jack, softly, sensing the young man’s turmoil as he closed the distance between them and gently pulled him into a loose, comforting hug, afraid of hurting him any more than he so obviously was.
“Doesn’t matter,” mumbled Ianto, nuzzling the soft skin of his neck as he clung to him, breathing in the scent of comfort and security.
“It does because you do” said Jack, gently, willing him to believe it as he tilted Ianto’s chin up to face him ,thumbing a stray tear off a bruised cheek as Ianto hesitantly met his concerned gaze. His normally sparkling blue eyes dull and lifeless.
“Trust me” whispered Jack, taking Ianto’s hand in his own and noting that the once clear and flawless skin was now a mixture of ugly blues, purples and blacks, the joints swollen and restrictive.
“I’ll make the coffee then” said Ianto, resignatedly, breaking eye contact and half heartedly attempting to move out of the Captain’s comforting hold. But Jack was having none of it as he took his other hand in his own, caressing the frayed and cut knuckles with his thumbs.
“No, I will, you sit down,” said Jack, firmly, guiding Ianto to the sofa in the adjoining room and sitting him down before moving to the kitchen. What Ianto needed now was to be loved and cared for. It was heartbreakingly obvious that the poor man was exhausted and in pain, his already fragile confidence shattered which was why Jack was prepared to overlook the cause for now but he would get to the bottom of it. No one hurt his friends like that, especially Ianto.
http://welsh-scotsman.livejournal.com/2500.html chapter three
When Ianto calls in 'sick', it's up to Jack to find out what's really going on and give him some much needed tlc. Jack starts to get answers...