In Sickness and in Health (10/?)
Not sure how this has turned out, but I'll let you lot be the judges of that, I bow to your wisdom:) Also, Ianto is meant to sound out of character, that's kind of the point:) One more thing, if you've missed any parts or whatever, it'll probably be easier to go to the tag in sickness and in health as I think the first seven chapters are linked up but I've still got to do the tohers. Anyway, enjoy:)
When Jack entered the flat, all was quiet, assuming Ianto was still asleep, he quietly toed off his shoes and slipped off his coat before looking in the bedroom which was deserted. Shrugging, he wandered down the hallway into the living room to be greeted with total destruction and sitting cross legged amidst the chaos, was Ianto who seemed not to hve noticed him as he continued to tear up the photos that were spread out on front of him.
“Ianto...Sweetheart...What’s going on?” asked Jack cautiously as he perched on the arm of the sofa, watching the young man whoses hands and feet were badly cut.
“Ianto,” prompted Jack, starting to panic about the young man’s state of mind.
“You love me, don’t you, Jack? You must do. Why else would you stay?” asked Ianto, finally looking up, his eyes showing a desperate need to believe what he was saying.
“Of course I do, Sweetheart. What’s brought this on, hmmm?” asked Jack as he slowly wandered over to kneel besides the troubled young man, being careful of the shards of glass that littered the floor.
“It doesn’t make sense though. You could have anyone you wanted. There are thousands of people that are better looking and more intelligent than me so why? I’ve betrayed you at least twice,” continued Ianto, bowing his head as if he hadn’t heard Jack. Maybe he had and maybe he hadn’t. Jack had never seen Ianto like this before and it scared him more than he liked to admit.
“Ianto, look at me,” he commanded softly, gently removing the photo from his lovers cut and bleeding hands before taking them in his own, stroking them gently.
“There probably are thousands of people that are more intelligent than you but I’m not with them am I? I’m with you because you complete me. Because, despite your views to the contrary, you are perfect,” murmured Jack, making eye contact before tentatively moving into kiss Ianto softly, moving his hand up to entwine in his tousled locks. Ianto for his part gradually relaxed, soothed by the familiar touches and sensations that signified security as he reciprocated, hoping to distract Jack enough that he would drop the subject.
“Ianto, no,” said Jack gently but firmly as he caught Ianto’s hands as they started to undo his buttons.
“You don’t want me,” stated Ianto quietly, pulling away and bowing his head. Of course Jack didn’t want him, he was a wreck; not even good enough for a quick shag.
“Of course I do, Sweetheart and it’s because I value and respect you so much that I’m not going to have sex with you. Apart from anything else, you’re hurt and upset and in no position to do so,” murmured Jack, resisting the urge to hole the fragile man close and whisper reassuring nothings in his ear until he believed his own worth.
“I’m fine,” mumbled Ianto, wiping a tear away with the heel of his hand.
“No you’re not, Ianto. You’re Dad’s been round hasn’t he,” stated Jack gently, looking round at the scattered things and noticing the drops of blood on the floor.
“I should start tidying up,” muttered Ianto, painfully pulling himself to his feet so he didn’t have to look at the Immortal’s pitying gaze.
“Ianto, you can’t just keep avoiding the subject!” said Jack frustratedly as he too stood.
“I am not avoiding the bloody subject, Jack! How can I when said subject keeps forcing himself into my own home at least once a week? How can I avoid the subject when he attacks me in my own home? Do you realise how hard it is to pretend your ribs aren’t on fire or to have to constantly remember not to roll your sleeves up because of the bruises? No. You don’t. So don’t you dare say I’m avoiding the subject because I won’t relinquish the one ounce of control I have over the situation. Don’t you ever ask that of me, Jack. Ever,” shouted Ianto.
Jack just stood there stunned and slightly worried at how effectively Ianto had managed to hide something that had obviously tormented him so much for so long. No wonder he’d been able to hide how ill he was, compared to this. It must be a piece of cake.
“I’m so sorry. There must be something we can do.”
“Like what, Jack? I’ve lived in Cardiff, Aberystwyth, Swansea, Newport, Caerphilly, even London at one point in an attempt at getting away from him. I’ve changed my name at least twice and the locks God knows how many times but he won’t give up! I can’t keep moving. I can’t keep doing this! I don’t want to but he’s just there constantly, trapping me, degrading me and I can’t...I don’t...I don’t know what to do!” sobbed Ianto as it all started to get too much and tears started to fall in earnest.
“Hey, shhh...I’m here,” murmured Jack, going over to him and wrapping his arms round the unresisting man, letting him cry into his chest until something snapped and Ianto went limp in his arms, all tension suddenly leaving his body.
“Ianto?” whispered Jack in concern as he realised the young man had lost consciousness. Carefully he lowered them both to the floor and felt his rapid pulse. Slowly he let out a breath as he realised what had happened: Ianto had panicked and this had put a strain on his already weakened body which had been pushed too far so he’d fainted.
“Oh Sweetheart, I had no idea,” he murmured as he gently took one of Ianto’s hands in his, noting the shards of glass that had embedded themselves in the fair skin. However it was the rapidly developing bruising round the young man’s wrists that caught his attention. Fighting back the rising anger, Jack carefully pushed back the sleeves to reveal dark blue, black and purple blotches marring the usually flawless skin. Inspection of the other arm led Jack to believe that the Father had visited and attacked his son violently if the severity of the bruises was anything to go by. Keeping himself calm so he didn’t accidentally hurt Ianto further, Jack gently lifted him and carried him to the bedroom where he tenderly lay him down on the bed.
“Right, step one: hands and feet. Step two: everything else,” he muttered to himself as he located a bowl and filled it with warm water and antiseptic. He then wet a cloth and located some tweezers before taking each of Ianto’s hands in turn and gently washing the dried blood away so he could at least see the damage done.
It turned out there was quite a lot of damage done and Jack was starting to come to the uncomfortable conclusion that the Dad could not have caused the cuts.
He then noticed the drops of blood down the right hand side of Ianto’s t-shirt. Keeping one eye on Ianto who was still out of it, he slowly pushed the shirt up to reveal livid black bruising down the right hand side of his body.
“You bastard,” spat Jack venomously and uncharacteristically as he had to physically control his breathing for fear he really would do something he’d regret. How could anyone hurt somebody like this? Least of all their own son?
“Jack? What happened?” asked Ianto groggily as he slowly came to.
“You panicked and fainted,” said Jack gently, stroking his tousled hair back, relieved Ianto didn’t instantly push him away.
“Yeah...Sorry about that,” muttered Ianto as he felt himself going red and turned his face away accordingly only to notice Jack had pushed up his t-shirt and sleeves to reveal the extensive damage. Ianto just bit his lip as he turned his face away and closed his eyes for fear more tears would fall. Jack must think him pathetic.
“Ianto, look at me,” implored Jack softly as he gently turned his face to look at him. Ianto avoided eye contact.
“You have nothing to be ashamed about. This is in no way your fault. You understand?” he said firmly, praying to all the Gods he didn’t believe in that Ianto would believe him. Ianto stayed silent, staring at the spot behind Jack.
“You are better than your Dad. He has no right to do what he does to you,” continued Jack sadly as he entwined his fingers with Ianto’s cut ones.
“And you have no reason to hurt yourself,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, causing Ianto’s gaze to snap back to him.
“I didn’t-“ Jack held up Ianto’s hand to illustrate his point.
“I didn’t...I just...Not intentionally...I just....lost my temper and smashed a few things, that’s all,” stammered Ianto, he hadn’t realised he’d hurt himself that badly. To be honest, he hadn’t really been aware of what he was doing until Jack had come in the room. Surely his Dad didn’t have that much of a hold over him that it caused him to...
“Hey, ‘s okay, just next time you feel like smashing am mirror? Remember it’s seven years bad luck,” smiled Jack gently, his eyes holding no judgement.
Ianto nodded shakily, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you...I just...”
“Shh, ‘s okay, you were upset,” said Jack gently as he too lay on top of the bed next to Ianto who instantly curled against his comforting warmth, burying his face in Jack’s smooth chest, grateful for the fact Jack didn’t hate him.
“What am I gonna do with you, hmm?” murmured Jack quietly, staring up at the ceiling as he held the trembling man close, gently tracing soothing patterns on his back in the vain hope that beneath the tangle of emotion, Ianto knew he could trust him.
http://welsh-scotsman.livejournal.com/9005.html chapter elevan
When Jack entered the flat, all was quiet, assuming Ianto was still asleep, he quietly toed off his shoes and slipped off his coat before looking in the bedroom which was deserted. Shrugging, he wandered down the hallway into the living room to be greeted with total destruction and sitting cross legged amidst the chaos, was Ianto who seemed not to hve noticed him as he continued to tear up the photos that were spread out on front of him.
“Ianto...Sweetheart...What’s going on?” asked Jack cautiously as he perched on the arm of the sofa, watching the young man whoses hands and feet were badly cut.
“Ianto,” prompted Jack, starting to panic about the young man’s state of mind.
“You love me, don’t you, Jack? You must do. Why else would you stay?” asked Ianto, finally looking up, his eyes showing a desperate need to believe what he was saying.
“Of course I do, Sweetheart. What’s brought this on, hmmm?” asked Jack as he slowly wandered over to kneel besides the troubled young man, being careful of the shards of glass that littered the floor.
“It doesn’t make sense though. You could have anyone you wanted. There are thousands of people that are better looking and more intelligent than me so why? I’ve betrayed you at least twice,” continued Ianto, bowing his head as if he hadn’t heard Jack. Maybe he had and maybe he hadn’t. Jack had never seen Ianto like this before and it scared him more than he liked to admit.
“Ianto, look at me,” he commanded softly, gently removing the photo from his lovers cut and bleeding hands before taking them in his own, stroking them gently.
“There probably are thousands of people that are more intelligent than you but I’m not with them am I? I’m with you because you complete me. Because, despite your views to the contrary, you are perfect,” murmured Jack, making eye contact before tentatively moving into kiss Ianto softly, moving his hand up to entwine in his tousled locks. Ianto for his part gradually relaxed, soothed by the familiar touches and sensations that signified security as he reciprocated, hoping to distract Jack enough that he would drop the subject.
“Ianto, no,” said Jack gently but firmly as he caught Ianto’s hands as they started to undo his buttons.
“You don’t want me,” stated Ianto quietly, pulling away and bowing his head. Of course Jack didn’t want him, he was a wreck; not even good enough for a quick shag.
“Of course I do, Sweetheart and it’s because I value and respect you so much that I’m not going to have sex with you. Apart from anything else, you’re hurt and upset and in no position to do so,” murmured Jack, resisting the urge to hole the fragile man close and whisper reassuring nothings in his ear until he believed his own worth.
“I’m fine,” mumbled Ianto, wiping a tear away with the heel of his hand.
“No you’re not, Ianto. You’re Dad’s been round hasn’t he,” stated Jack gently, looking round at the scattered things and noticing the drops of blood on the floor.
“I should start tidying up,” muttered Ianto, painfully pulling himself to his feet so he didn’t have to look at the Immortal’s pitying gaze.
“Ianto, you can’t just keep avoiding the subject!” said Jack frustratedly as he too stood.
“I am not avoiding the bloody subject, Jack! How can I when said subject keeps forcing himself into my own home at least once a week? How can I avoid the subject when he attacks me in my own home? Do you realise how hard it is to pretend your ribs aren’t on fire or to have to constantly remember not to roll your sleeves up because of the bruises? No. You don’t. So don’t you dare say I’m avoiding the subject because I won’t relinquish the one ounce of control I have over the situation. Don’t you ever ask that of me, Jack. Ever,” shouted Ianto.
Jack just stood there stunned and slightly worried at how effectively Ianto had managed to hide something that had obviously tormented him so much for so long. No wonder he’d been able to hide how ill he was, compared to this. It must be a piece of cake.
“I’m so sorry. There must be something we can do.”
“Like what, Jack? I’ve lived in Cardiff, Aberystwyth, Swansea, Newport, Caerphilly, even London at one point in an attempt at getting away from him. I’ve changed my name at least twice and the locks God knows how many times but he won’t give up! I can’t keep moving. I can’t keep doing this! I don’t want to but he’s just there constantly, trapping me, degrading me and I can’t...I don’t...I don’t know what to do!” sobbed Ianto as it all started to get too much and tears started to fall in earnest.
“Hey, shhh...I’m here,” murmured Jack, going over to him and wrapping his arms round the unresisting man, letting him cry into his chest until something snapped and Ianto went limp in his arms, all tension suddenly leaving his body.
“Ianto?” whispered Jack in concern as he realised the young man had lost consciousness. Carefully he lowered them both to the floor and felt his rapid pulse. Slowly he let out a breath as he realised what had happened: Ianto had panicked and this had put a strain on his already weakened body which had been pushed too far so he’d fainted.
“Oh Sweetheart, I had no idea,” he murmured as he gently took one of Ianto’s hands in his, noting the shards of glass that had embedded themselves in the fair skin. However it was the rapidly developing bruising round the young man’s wrists that caught his attention. Fighting back the rising anger, Jack carefully pushed back the sleeves to reveal dark blue, black and purple blotches marring the usually flawless skin. Inspection of the other arm led Jack to believe that the Father had visited and attacked his son violently if the severity of the bruises was anything to go by. Keeping himself calm so he didn’t accidentally hurt Ianto further, Jack gently lifted him and carried him to the bedroom where he tenderly lay him down on the bed.
“Right, step one: hands and feet. Step two: everything else,” he muttered to himself as he located a bowl and filled it with warm water and antiseptic. He then wet a cloth and located some tweezers before taking each of Ianto’s hands in turn and gently washing the dried blood away so he could at least see the damage done.
It turned out there was quite a lot of damage done and Jack was starting to come to the uncomfortable conclusion that the Dad could not have caused the cuts.
He then noticed the drops of blood down the right hand side of Ianto’s t-shirt. Keeping one eye on Ianto who was still out of it, he slowly pushed the shirt up to reveal livid black bruising down the right hand side of his body.
“You bastard,” spat Jack venomously and uncharacteristically as he had to physically control his breathing for fear he really would do something he’d regret. How could anyone hurt somebody like this? Least of all their own son?
“Jack? What happened?” asked Ianto groggily as he slowly came to.
“You panicked and fainted,” said Jack gently, stroking his tousled hair back, relieved Ianto didn’t instantly push him away.
“Yeah...Sorry about that,” muttered Ianto as he felt himself going red and turned his face away accordingly only to notice Jack had pushed up his t-shirt and sleeves to reveal the extensive damage. Ianto just bit his lip as he turned his face away and closed his eyes for fear more tears would fall. Jack must think him pathetic.
“Ianto, look at me,” implored Jack softly as he gently turned his face to look at him. Ianto avoided eye contact.
“You have nothing to be ashamed about. This is in no way your fault. You understand?” he said firmly, praying to all the Gods he didn’t believe in that Ianto would believe him. Ianto stayed silent, staring at the spot behind Jack.
“You are better than your Dad. He has no right to do what he does to you,” continued Jack sadly as he entwined his fingers with Ianto’s cut ones.
“And you have no reason to hurt yourself,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, causing Ianto’s gaze to snap back to him.
“I didn’t-“ Jack held up Ianto’s hand to illustrate his point.
“I didn’t...I just...Not intentionally...I just....lost my temper and smashed a few things, that’s all,” stammered Ianto, he hadn’t realised he’d hurt himself that badly. To be honest, he hadn’t really been aware of what he was doing until Jack had come in the room. Surely his Dad didn’t have that much of a hold over him that it caused him to...
“Hey, ‘s okay, just next time you feel like smashing am mirror? Remember it’s seven years bad luck,” smiled Jack gently, his eyes holding no judgement.
Ianto nodded shakily, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you...I just...”
“Shh, ‘s okay, you were upset,” said Jack gently as he too lay on top of the bed next to Ianto who instantly curled against his comforting warmth, burying his face in Jack’s smooth chest, grateful for the fact Jack didn’t hate him.
“What am I gonna do with you, hmm?” murmured Jack quietly, staring up at the ceiling as he held the trembling man close, gently tracing soothing patterns on his back in the vain hope that beneath the tangle of emotion, Ianto knew he could trust him.
http://welsh-scotsman.livejournal.com/9005.html chapter elevan