Torchwood Fic: In a manner of speaking

[marita_c]

Title: In a manner of speaking
Word count: ~4,000
Rating: R for adult themes.
Characters/pairings: Jack/Ianto, with a side of Owen.
Spoilers: Cyberwoman
Disclaimer: Not mine, no profit.
Thanks to my wonderful beta andreth47 

Summary: A slightly different post-Cyberwoman suspension fic, heavy on angst and with a bit of amnesia sprinkled on top. 

*Revised: March 24th, 2009 Awareness trickles back slowly, starting with a splitting headache and shortly followed by the rush of sound. Two voices, one feminine and young, the other much deeper, their words barely registering through a thick haze. "Ianto Jones, twenty three years old, found unconscious outside 'Raving Sid's'. No keys, no mobile phone, no money in his wallet and a big bloody bump on the back of the head." "Mugged?" "That would be my guess. Pulse and BP are elevated—" Someone pries open his eyes, shining a bright light into them which makes him squirm and moan in pain. "Pupils are dilated. Judging by where they found him, my guess would be that it's due to drugs and not the head trauma." "Let's do a CT and a tox screen to make sure. Look through his wallet, is there an emergency contact listed?" "Hold on… oh, dear, this is just getting better and better. Take a look." "Bollocks. Just what I needed. He's Torchwood?" Ianto very slowly opens his eyes, keeping completely still until the room comes into focus. He notes a white ceiling, an ugly green curtain. When he manages to turn his head sideways he sees a young female doctor with long, brown hair, talking to a male nurse.  Oh, fucking hell. He tries to fit a sequence to the jumbled up events in his mind, but it feels as though his neurons are firing in slow motion, signals fading without ever reaching their targets.  He can remember the club. The rhythmic thud of heavy bass, loud enough to drown out… everything else. He remembers the parking lot, fumbling for his keys, dropping them, considering a taxi. Then footsteps behind him, more than one. Laughter. The nurse’s voice brings him back to the present. "Emergency contact listed as Captain Jack Harkness." "Lovely. Just lovely. Do you want to call him or should I?"   "No!" Ianto says. Or tries to. It comes out as barely a croak. He coughs and tries again. "No. Don't." This time he catches their attention. The doctor turns to him and frowns. "Mister Jones, do you know where you are?" she asks. "Hospital, obviously." Ianto tries to sit up. "Whoa, there, take it easy. We need to run some tests. We were just going to call your—" "Don't. Don't call anyone," he rasps. The last thing he needs is for Jack to find out about this. He'd be livid. Or worse, wouldn't care at all. "I… I need to go," he says, and sits up despite the doctor's efforts to stop him. "Mister Jones, you've suffered a head trauma; at the very least you have a concussion. You're in no condition to leave here, certainly not by yourself." Ianto shakes his head and instantly regrets it as a sharp pain shoots through his skull. "I feel fine. Bring me the forms, I'll sign whatever you want, but I can't stay here," he insists. The doctor looks at him incredulously, and finally huffs in frustration. "Fine, kill yourself, what do I care?" she mutters and walks to the front desk. Ten minutes later Ianto steps out into the chill of the night. He curses as he realizes he doesn't have his coat and vaguely remembers leaving it in his car which is, by now, god knows where. No mobile means he'll have to wait until he gets home before calling the police and reporting it stolen. He wraps his arms around himself and looks left and right. He knows where he is, at least, and as he starts walking fast down the street, calculates it'll take him approximately forty-five minutes to get home. The street lights seem too sharp to his eyes, and, occasionally, his steps falter as a wave of dizziness strikes him. He remembers two little red pills, purchased earlier in the evening. He thinks he can still taste them in the back of his throat. Before, they had made the world seem slightly less… painful. Now, feeling cold and miserable, he just wishes for some clarity. His eyes and ears are playing tricks on him, making him turn sharply backwards every couple of minutes because he's sure someone is behind him. Spots of colour flicker in his peripheral vision when a car goes by, and he blinks rapidly in an attempt to clear them away. That's the reason he misses the deep groove made by a broken part of the pavement. It catches on the heel of his shoe and sends him tumbling down, head first. *** Jack glares at his computer screen again, and taps a pen on his desk in annoyance. "Toshiko?" he calls out sharply. A shadow falls on his desk, and he looks up to see Owen in the doorway. "She went home. It's almost midnight, Harkness." Jack frowns and glances at the clock on the wall. "Oh. Why are you still here, then?" he asks. Owen shrugs. "Working on something." He sips from his mug. Jack narrows his eyes. "Is that coffee?" "Tea." "Hmmff." Jack loses interest and goes back to the computer, staring at the little red dot blinking in the upper-right corner of the map. He had installed trackers in Ianto's mobile and car two weeks ago when he suspended him, wanting to keep a close tab on the younger man's whereabouts. He didn't want any more surprises from him. Judging by the information currently displayed on his screen, however, something is definitely up tonight. The tracker in Ianto's phone has stopped working, indicating that the battery has been taken out, and the tracker in the car shows that it's currently parked in a deserted garage miles out of Cardiff.  That makes no sense whatsoever. Jack leans back in his chair and sighs in frustration. As he turns his head, his eyes catch something on the CCTV monitor. *** When Ianto opens his eyes again he finds himself sitting on the sidewalk, back against a wall. The street is deserted and silent. Ianto slowly climbs to his feet and looks around with some confusion. He's not entirely sure where he is. He was going home, he thinks, but he's not sure from where, and come to think of it, he's not completely sure where home is. A search though his pockets turns out a wallet, but no keys. How is he supposed to get in, then? He looks down the street (or is it up the street?) and something in the distance registers as familiar. *** Ianto reads the address on his driver's license again, and then looks around the deserted Plass with some confusion. Or, at least, the Plass that was deserted until a moment ago, because twenty feet from him, a man has just appeared, as if out of nowhere. He seems very familiar, but his name is dancing just out of reach in Ianto's mind. "Ianto?" the man asks as he approaches. "What are you doing here?" Ianto frowns and looks at him in concentration, desperately trying to come up with his name. "I… was walking home, I think. I'm not sure how I got here." He looks down at the driver's license again. "I live at 441, Heol-y-Gwent," he says. The other man frowns at him. "Yes, Ianto, I know where you live." He steps a little closer. "Are you feeling alright? Do you know who I am?" Ianto opens his mouth to answer, but hesitates. A spark of memory flares suddenly in his confused mind. "Jack," he tries saying the name. It feels right.  The other man, Jack, nods. "That's right," he says slowly. Ianto puts the license back in his wallet and looks around, feeling utterly lost. "I think I was mugged,” he murmurs. “I don't have keys, or money. And my head hurts," he says with a pout, touching the back of his head gingerly.   "Let me see." Jack comes closer and gently turns Ianto's head. "Ouch. You've a nasty bump there." Ianto turns his head back to look at Jack. Up close the other man smells good. Familiar. Ianto has a flash of memory, of smooth skin and strong hands. He thinks he knows what Jack tastes like. Something must show on his face, because Jack looks at him quizzically. "What?" Ianto hesitates, but finally asks, "Are you my boyfriend?" Jack's eyes widen fractionally. "Really not," he snaps. Ianto flushes, embarrassed, and Jack's face softens. "Look, why don't you sit here on the bench, and I'll ask Owen to come up and take a look at you." At Ianto's confused expression he adds, "Owen is a doctor. And a friend." Ianto looks around with a frown. "Come up from where?" he asks. Jack pauses, but then shakes his head and nudges Ianto towards the bench. "Just sit for a bit, yeah?" Ianto complies, and Jack takes out his mobile phone and presses a couple of buttons. He speaks softly at first, and Ianto can't make out the words. He shivers again, the breeze from the bay chilling him to the bone. At some point Jack raises his voice in annoyance. "Would I be asking that of you if I'd Retconned him?" he asks, exasperated. Finally he nods, and says something that sounds like "Don't use the lift," before hanging up. Jack rubs his eyes tiredly, then comes to stand next to Ianto. Ianto shifts his gaze to the ground, suddenly fascinated by the pattern of pebbles in the pavement. He jumps a little, startled, as Jack drapes his long coat around him, and looks up. "Uh… thanks," he says with a small smile. Jack just nods, then looks behind him. Ianto can hear footsteps and as he looks over his shoulder sees a man walking in their direction, holding a leather bag. He seems familiar, but Ianto can't quite place him. The man, Owen, stops in front of Ianto, and gives Jack a sour look before dropping to his knees and looking into Ianto's face. "How're you doing, Jonesey?" he asks. "Having a rough night?" Ianto shrugs and stays silent as Owen takes his hand in his and places two fingers on the pulse point in his wrist. "Do you know what day it is?" he asks. Jack walks away from them again, making another call on his mobile. Ianto blinks a few times, trying to concentrate, but comes up empty. "Not really. What day is it?" Instead of answering, Owen asks, "Stashed a cyberman in a basement lately?" Ianto just stares at him, uncomprehending, until the other man smiles tightly and shakes his head. "Nevermind," he says before taking Ianto's other hand and pushing up his shirts sleeve slightly. He turns the wrist until the streetlight shines on a red ink stamp, and huffs. "No wonder you were mugged. I suggest that the next time you feel like partying, go to the other side of town." He lets go of Ianto's hands and reaches into the bag, bringing out a small torch. He flashes light into Ianto's eyes a few times, then asks Ianto to follow his finger. Ianto does his best, and then Owen pulls out some electronic device that Ianto doesn't recognize. It has a small screen with some information, and Owen presses a few buttons on it before pointing it at the general direction of Ianto's chest. It makes a few blips and some information starts blinking on the screen. Owen glances up at Ianto briefly, one eyebrow raised. "Whatever makes you happy, mate," he mutters. Then he presses more buttons and stands up. He looks at the back of Ianto's head and gently parts the hair around the swollen, throbbing area. He starts moving the device around Ianto's head a few times, keeping his eyes on the display, and eventually turns it off and puts it back in the bag. Jack comes back in the meantime, tucking his mobile back into his pocket. "Gwen will talk to some people at the police, someone will go and try to get his car back," he tells Owen. "How's he doing?" Owen shrugs. "Nasty concussion. He should be under observation and rest, mostly. The disorientation and amnesia are most likely temporary. Things will start coming back to him soon enough." He says the last part with a meaningful look at Jack. "You know that thing we talked about? It's still not too late. He's practically halfway there." Jack's eyes narrow. "You've made your argument perfectly clear on this issue, Owen. My decision is final." They glare at each other for a few more seconds before Owen stands down. "Fine, then you can take him home and babysit for the next twelve hours," Owen says acidly. Jack sighs, looking none too happy, and finally nods. "Stay with him until I bring the SUV around." "Make it quick, my ass is freezing," Owen says and sits on the bench next to Ianto. Ianto wraps Jack's coat tighter around himself as Jack leaves them, and looks sideways at Owen, trying to figure out whether a 'thank you' is in order. *** It's a short drive to Ianto's flat, and Jack keeps his eyes on the road throughout it, not saying much. When Ianto asks whether they work together he confirms it, but doesn't elaborate. He parks on the side of the street and exits the car, waiting to see whether Ianto will know to lead them upstairs. The younger man hesitates for a moment, but finally starts walking in the right direction. He becomes confused again in his hallway, but Jack just takes out his keys and unlocks Ianto's door, holding it open for him to step through first. "Look familiar?" Jack asks after turning on the lights in the living room. Ianto nods slowly. He takes off Jack's coat and hands it back to him, then proceeds to look around the flat, peeking into the bedroom and washroom as well. "I definitely live here," he says with some amusement. Jack looks around too. He's only been here once, when he brought Ianto home after that disastrous day two weeks ago. He notices some differences. Before, the flat seemed empty. Ianto had been literally living out of boxes which he never had a chance to unpack. Apparently two weeks of suspension have given him plenty of free time to catch up on that, because the once-empty shelves in the living room are now full of movie titles and books, and there's a stack of neatly folded boxes by the door. Jack follows Ianto into the kitchen and watches as he looks around uncertainly. "Um… would you like something to drink? I think I can—" Jack shakes his head. "I'm good, Ianto, thanks. You should rest, really. Why don't you change out of those clothes and go to bed?" Ianto looks down at himself and grimaces as he takes in the dirt and scuff marks on his clothes. "Yeah, that's a good idea," he says. He sends Jack a wan smile before walking out and disappearing into the bedroom, closing the door behind him. Jack sighs, then toes off his shoes and heads for the living room. The sofa is comfortable, and he considers turning on the television, but eventually decides against it and just leans his head back and closes his eyes. He had promised himself, after it all went down, to make an effort to improve things between Ianto and him. However, instead of spending more time with the younger man, as he had planned, he’s been avoiding him, keeping surveillance but never making contact. Was he waiting for Ianto to snap? To do something stupid enough that would require Jack’s intervention? He’s not sure himself. It’s irrelevant now, anyway. He’s here. Tomorrow morning Ianto will wake up, his memory intact again, probably. And Jack isn’t going to keep running from this anymore. He realizes he must have dozed off for a little while when the sound of the bedroom door opening makes him jump. Ianto emerges, wearing clean clothes, and stops when he sees Jack on the sofa. "I… can’t sleep," he says a little apologetically. "I have these flashes… memories, I suppose, but they're not making much sense." Jack nods and slowly gets up. “Why don’t you sit down? I’ll make something to drink. Put a movie on, or something. Whatever you think will distract you.” Ianto looks back at him blankly. “Alright.” Jack nods again and walks into the kitchen. If he’s to endure an evening of avoiding questions raised by a clueless Ianto, he’s going to need a strong drink. His random search through Ianto’s cupboards is interrupted, however, by a sound of something falling and shattering, and Jack rushes back to the living room. He finds it empty, and jumps at the sound of the bedroom door slamming shut to his left. He's about to head in that direction when something on the floor by the shelves catches his eyes. He takes a few steps and bends down, picking up the fallen framed photo. From beyond the cracked glass, Ianto and Lisa are smiling at him, their faces joyful and carefree. Jack curses silently. He sets the photograph back on the shelf and heads for the bedroom. "Ianto?" he calls out, rapping on the door twice, quickly. He tries the handle without waiting for a reply, and finds it unlocked. In the dim room, Ianto is sitting on the floor, leaning with his back against the side of the bed. When Jack sees the expression on his face, he no longer needs to ask. The younger man looks like the weight of the world just landed upon his shoulders, grief etched into every line of his face. Jack walks to the bed and sits down heavily. Ianto doesn't look at him, or acknowledge him in any other way.  "I'm sorry, Ianto," Jack says quietly. He's not sure what he's apologizing for, but it seems like the right thing to say in light of the younger man's pain. Ianto doesn't reply, at first. He just raises a hand to his chest, and then higher, resting his palm over his collarbone. "You should go," he says finally, his voice hollow. "I… I didn't mean to be any trouble. I know you don't want to be here." He swallows. "I appreciate your help, getting me home..." Jack frowns. "And I appreciate your appreciation, but I'm not going anywhere." Ianto doesn't argue. Doesn't say anything, really, just keeps sitting there. Eventually Jack sighs and crawls up the bed. He props up a pillow and leans his back against the headboard, folding his arms across his chest. "Was it better, not remembering?" he asks. Ianto takes some time answering. "It was. And it wasn't." After another moment he adds, "I don't want Retcon." "I wasn't offering," Jack replies levelly. He can hear Ianto shifting on the floor, before the younger man asks "Why not?" "I… huh?" "You… brought me home that night. You gave me a drink. I figured I'd either wake up without my memory, or I wouldn't wake up at all." "It didn't seem like you minded, at the time," Jack points out. "I didn't, really." "But now you do?" Ianto doesn't answer. "Well, for the record, I have no intention of killing you or wiping your memory in the near future." "Oh," Ianto says quietly. "Is that… is it because we…" he trails off. It takes Jack a few seconds to get what Ianto is asking, and he can't help the bark of bitter laughter in response. "Yes, Ianto. I'm one lovesick puppy," he says, rolling his eyes. At the ensuing silence, Jack turns solemn. "You have made some seriously bad decisions, the consequences of which you're well aware of, I'm sure."   He hears Ianto taking a long, ragged breath. "It was all for nothing. It… hurts. So much, sometimes, that it feels like I can't breathe. Knowing that she's… gone. For good. And… everything I've done was… pointless.” His voice is drained, empty. “Once you're able to look beyond you personal grief, I think you'll feel a need to… balance the scale,” Jack says quietly. “I'm giving you that chance because I think you deserve it, but there isn't going to be another one." For a while, all Jack can hear is Ianto's steady breaths. Then, "It feels like nothing can ever be right again. How could I possibly fix this?" Despite himself, Jack feels a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I have faith in you, Ianto Jones, even after all this." "I know I hurt you," Ianto blurts. Jack shakes his head. "If I'd known you could throw a punch like that I'd have taken you out to the field a long time ago." "That's… not what I meant," Ianto replies quietly. Jack knows exactly what Ianto had meant, but he was hoping to avoid that particular conversation for the time being. "Relax, Ianto. You're hardly the first person to have used sex to get what they wanted from me. I'm sure you won't be the last, either. These things practically bounce off me," he says lightly. "I'm still sorry." It's said softly, barely audible, but somehow the statement hangs between them for a long time. Jack closes his eyes and sighs. "I'm sorry too. I've… let my ego keep me from seeing what was really going on," he says, then rubs his eyes tiredly. When Ianto doesn’t respond Jack sighs and continues. "There were moments when… I had you in my bed, and it seemed like you'd rather be anywhere else. I dismissed it, of course," Jack says somewhat bitterly. "It wasn't like that," Ianto says finally. “What was it like, then?” Ianto clears his throat, and his voice sounds steadier when he speaks next. “It was difficult, the first couple of times. But then I just… stopped thinking, whenever I was with you. It made everything easier. It was like taking a break, just for a couple of hours, from all the bad things that were happening." Jack finds himself feeling a little relieved at this, and realizes he'd subconsciously braced himself for hearing Ianto say how awful it had been for him to sleep with Jack. He thinks back to those first days. Of a Ianto that used to make him heavenly coffee and flirt carelessly as he brought it into his office. A Ianto who was oh-so-eager to please after hours. All an act, of course. His curiosity gets the better of him, and, feeling the need to know exactly how far the pretence went, he asks, "Have you even been with men, before me?" "Yes." Ianto says quickly. Then, "No. well… sort of."  Jack glances at him, but only the top of Ianto's head is visible from his position on the bed. "I'm almost afraid to ask." Ianto huffs, and it sounds to Jack almost like amusement. "We were talking one night, me and Lisa. We were both completely pissed, and I… confessed. Told her I've always been curious, about men. She thought it was brilliant, obviously." Jack smiles a little. "An open-minded woman," he notes. "Oh, she was," Ianto says, sounding lost in memory. "One evening, a couple of weeks before the battle… she came home… with a friend." Jack arches an eyebrow, but doesn't interrupt.   "He was older, and very handsome. It was an interesting night. Somewhat awkward, but very… educational. Nothing like it was with you." "You didn't think my technique was educational?" "Well… it was certainly innovative. Definitely not awkward." Jack laughs softly. "Decades of experience. And sex with humans has always been my favorite. Well, maybe second favorite."   Ianto pushes back from the bed and looks up at him, a little bemused, but Jack just shakes his head. "Do you think you could sleep now?" he asks. Ianto swallows, then nods slowly. "Yeah, I think so." He climbs to his feet, and Jack gets off the bed, pulling the covers back a little. "Go on." Ianto settles in and pulls the covers up to his chest. "You really don't have to stay," he tells Jack. "I know," Jack replies simply. He takes a few steps to the window, and leans his hands on the sill, looking outside. Ianto watches his broad back for a few more seconds before finally closing his eyes.