Author’s note Once again, thanks to royalladyemma for continous hand holding. And three updates in one week! I think that's a record:P Also, slight linguistical note on the use of Mum and it's variants. Ianto says Mam 'cos he's Welsh, Jack says Mom 'cos he's using an American accent, they're the same person:P Also, I think it's important to keep their accents in the right place which is annoyng as I say Mum but still. It's also intersting that Mammy comes up in Microsoft spell checkers but Mam does not but Mom does. Also, and I know I'm going to sound really stupid here, but when referring to someone's Mum or Dad, do you use a capital letter or a little letter? *hides under table before you all throw rocks at me* It's been a long day! I've also not slept properly for over a week:P In other news, I was in WHSmiths the other day and saw a book called 'Homer's Illiad' by Gwen Cooper. It amused me no end:P
Summary: Ianto looks after everyone, but who looks after him?
Warning: Occasional language, references to child abuse
Jack watched Rhiannon go with something akin to relief. Intellectually, he knew that she was only looking out for her little brother and he would probably do the same if he were in her position but the thought that she genuinely believed him capable of those things hurt more than he liked to admit.
However, despite his own feelings, he was more concerned about the affect the meeting had had on Ianto’s already fragile state. Glancing over at the young man, he could see that his expression had gone completely blank as he closed himself off emotionally.
“Well, that’s that then,” muttered Ianto resignatedly as he picked up Rhiannon’s mug and took it to the sink as if nothing had happened.
He’s going to bottle it up thought Jack as he followed and wrapped his arms round his tense body from behind whilst nuzzling his neck affectionately.
“It wasn’t your fault, you know,” he murmured softly against his neck.
“Isn’t it?” asked Ianto wearily as his shoulders slumped and he hung his head in defeat.
“No. You’re a beautiful, intelligent man who-“
“Keeps cocking everything up,” said Ianto quietly as he turned to face the Immortal.
“It’s true. If I’d have kept my temper, Dad wouldn’t be in hospital, Rhi wouldn’t hate me and the team wouldn’t pity me,” said Ianto quietly and it broke Jack’s heart to see that he genuinely believed what he was saying.
“No one pities you, Ianto. Rhiannon was only doing what she believed to be right. None of this is your fault,” said Jack firmly, holding Ianto by the tops of his arms and forcing eye contact.
“But I think it was,” whispered Ianto, dropping eye contact before moving back over to the warmth of the sofa and the security of Jack’s coat which he pulled back into his lap.
Jack didn’t comment, instead he just went over and sat beside him so their hips through to their thighs were touching.
“I used to have a blanket made of this material when I was little,” murmured Ianto vaguely, more to the coat than the Immortal.
“I called it Ieuan, I don’t know why, I just...did. I took it everywhere. Mam used to wait until I was asleep to wash it or else I’d throw a tantrum. She’d hand wash it at night and then when I woke up in the morning, it would be laying next to me on my pillow as if it had never been gone,” said Ianto, his lips quirking up at the memory. Jack smiled, imagining a miniature Ianto toddling around, his blankie trailing behind him; it was a very cute image.
“I liked my Mam...she was nice,” said Ianto quietly after a while, a wistful expression crossing his stressed features.
“What happened?” asked Jack gently, his arm snaking round Ianto’s slim waist to pull him closer in a gesture of support.
Ianto exhaled a shaky breath as he allowed himself to be tugged closer so he was leaning against Jack’s side, the coat still held in his hands. “Me.”
“I’m sure that’s not true,” murmured Jack, kissing the top of his head.
“Isn’t it?” asked Ianto wearily as he smoothed the fabric with his thumbs. “After Rhi, they weren’t going to have any more children; one was enough and they couldn’t afford another one. Anyway, accidents happen and ten years later, Mam was pregnant again. Apparently, it was a very difficult pregnancy and she got infections and had to be hospitalised several times. The doctors advised her to abort but obviously she didn’t and six months later, she had me. I was three months early and we both nearly died. I was put in one of those incubator things and Mam was on all sorts of drips and stuff. What should’ve been a happy event traumatised her,” muttered Ianto, his ministrations becoming more tense.
Jack didn’t know what to say to that so instead just squeezed his waist in reassurance.
“She never acted like I wasn’t wanted though,” said Ianto quietly. “I remember when I was six, I got chickenpox and I was really ill. I had headaches, nausea, dizziness, the works and I remember...she was always there making sure I ate and that I didn’t pick my spots. She used to do little puppet shows with my toys to distract me.” Jack smiled at that. “She even moved a camp bed into my room so I wasn’t alone except...I woke up one morning and I was,” murmured Ianto and Jack could feel hot tears seeping through the thin material of his t shirt as Ianto took his emotions out on the coat until he was calm enough to continue.
“He always said it was my fault that she left. That I was selfish and should never have been born,” said Ianto venomously as the tears dripped onto the soft fabric, disappearing as soon as they’d landed.
“Ianto, look at me,” murmured Jack, tilting his chin up to face him. “It wasn’t your fault. Whatever your Dad told you are lies. From what you’ve said, your Mom loved you very much so why would she leave all that behind unless she had too, hmm? It doesn’t make sense.”
“She wouldn’t have left at all if I hadn’t have been born,” muttered Ianto.
“Ianto, she chose to have you. Even though she nearly died. Surely that tells you something?” said Jack reasonably.
Ianto shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t know what to think any more,” he said quietly as he settled back against Jack’s side and pulled the coat closer, absent mindedly playing with the buttons.
“I can’t even remember what she looks like ‘cos he destroyed everything. My own Mother.”
“I think she looked like you,” murmured Jack sincerely.
“Chance would be a fine thing,” muttered Ianto.
“I do. It’s a proven fact that boys look like their mothers and girls look like their fathers. Besides, Lloyd’s blond and brown. You’re brown and blue: the genes have to have come from somewhere,” said Jack lightly as he ran his hand up and down Ianto’s arm.
Ianto hummed non commitally as they lapsed into a companionable silence.
“Tell me about your Dad? Please?” asked Ianto quietly, looking up at Jack with such trust and affection that Jack had to glance away, unable to take the intensity of the gaze.
“He was...a good man,” he murmured, tucking Ianto’s head under his chin. “He would take us to the beach and we would play for hours until it got dark. If we were really lucky, Mom would come and join us and we’d stay until the tide came in.”
“He sounds nice, your Dad,” murmured Ianto sleepily, his fingers trailing over Jack’s chest.
“He was...the best,” murmured Jack, knowing he was rubbing Ianto’s face in it but also knowing that Ianto needed to understand that not all Dads were like Lloyd and the only way he could do that was if he had someone else to compare him to.
Jack talked for a further hour until he felt Ianto’s breathing even out. Glancing down, he saw that the young Welshman had finally fallen into a peaceful sleep snuggled against Jack and his coat. Smiling softly, Jack kissed the top of his head before gently scooping him up and carrying him to the bedroom where he lay him down.
“For what it’s worth, I’m glad your Mom had you,” murmured Jack against his skin as he carefully slid into bed behind him, wrapping his arms round his waist and moulding his back to his chest. Ianto made a tiny murmured of reply before relaxing completely in his Captain’s hold feeling safe and loved.
http://welsh-scotsman.livejournal.com/17370.html chapter twenty four