A/N: I was watching a little Torchwood and had a plot bunny. I think it will remain a one shot, but I wanted to write it and so here it is. Enjoy and apologies about any errors.
These Wounds
Ianto buttoned up his waist coat, feeling the sharp stab of pain of his bruised ribs beneath. He wasn't going to show the pain. The team wouldn't understand. Joseph hadn't meant it. He never did, but maybe that was just something that Ianto told himself enough he had come to believed it. Joe had a hard job. He came home with stress and liked to drink. It was only happened when he was drunk. He would get jealous of the Jack—of the relationship Ianto had had with him. There was nothing to be jealous of though. After Jack came back, Ianto couldn't bear the pain of going back to him. It was strictly professional. He hadn't told anyone at work about Joe. He didn't want to hear the comments from Owen and the girls wanting to pry for details, but hiding his injuries was becoming more difficult.
Straightening up, Ianto grabbed his keys and made his way out of his flat to the Hub, each breath burning as he drove through the foggy morning air to work. The morning sun was just starting to brighten the sky when he pulled into the lot. He was later than usual. Normally, it was dark when he arrived.
The Hub was empty when he got inside but he knew they would be there soon. The air was cool and Ianto shivered, regretting it as a sharp hot pain stabbed his side. Without thought his hand went to his ribs, resting over the bruises. He slowly let out the breath he was holding. The pain began to subside, so he lowered his hand and adjusted the cuffs of his sleeve. His head turned as he heard the cog door opening and he saw Owen, Gwen, and Tosh walking in. They were laughing and joking. They stopped when they saw Ianto and the Welshman wondered if they could see his pain for a moment. Ianto was frozen under their stares.
After a moment, Ianto found his senses and he lifted his chin and turned. Ignoring the stares, he walked to the coffee maker. He listened for them to say something, but thankfully, after a second, he heard them walking down the steps. He wondered if they saw the strain of pain on his face. It wasn't like him to slip. Hiding things was a talent of his. The only person he'd ever had trouble hiding from was Jack. It was like the man could look in your eyes and see your soul. It was once something Ianto found enchanting, but now it felt exposing. Maybe that's because of how things had changed between him and Jack. After he left, Ianto collapsed into himself. The darkness of loss nearly consumed him—until he met Joseph. Joseph pulled him out of the darkness at first, until things changed, until Jack came back—sending everything spiraling into chaos. Jack had a way about creating a whirlwind around him. It was easy to get drawn into it. Ianto didn't want to get pulled back again. He didn't think he could handle losing Jack twice.
"Oi, tea boy, you gonna get some coffee made today or what?" Owen hollered from his desk.
Ianto glanced over, seeing him sitting in his chair with feet kicked up on the desk.
Ianto rolled eyes. "Shall I remind you there are three coffee shops between your flat and Hub?"
Owen scoffed. "I don't get paid enough to buy my own."
Ianto sighed and went back to making the morning coffee. He normally liked to have it prepped and ready before the team arrived but the fight he had with Joseph the night before had gone on into the wee hours of the morning. Once he'd gotten to bed, he was exhausted and slept through his alarm.
Yawning, he filled the mugs, making each cup to everyone's specifications, then pausing, turning to face the open space. "Has anyone seen Jack?"
Gwen walked by, hands full of files. She paused and grabbed her coffee, taking a sip. "He's probably out checking some odd thing or another. I'm sure he'll back soon. You need help with something?"
"No, I'm fine. Thank you, Gwen."
Ianto left Jack's mug unfilled, grabbing the other two and making his way to hand them out. He walked over to Tosh's desk and passed her the mug and then went to Owen, handing him his with a nod.
"Thanks, mate," Owen said, biting at his pen. "You look … tense. You okay?"
"I'm fine, Owen."
Owen looked him over. "You know, you're due for an exam."
Ianto stiffened. "I'm behind on reports. It'll have to wait."
"They can wait. Come on."
"I said no!" Ianto snapped and skirted by Owen, jogging down the stairs towards the archives.
The archives were damp and cool. The lighting left something to be desired though, a few poorly placed bulbs hung from the ceiling, flickering every so often. Ianto often wondered if it was some type of residual energy causing it, like a haunting. There was enough death in Torchwood to have a spirit or two linger, and after all he'd seen, it didn't seem that farfetched.
He walked down to the far corner where he had a desk of his own. It had little on it, a few papers, folders and a stapler. There was an ancient, green, reading lamp that Jack had given him when he first joined after he complained of it being like a cave in there.
Ianto sighed as he walked up to the desk. It was another reminder of him and Jack. The two of them had spent many lunch breaks using it for less than professional purposes. Ianto used to like his desk just because of that reason—a reminder of Jack. Now he hated it for that same reason. It hurt to think of him. He didn't want to explore his feelings. He didn't want to admit maybe part of him loved Jack, or always had. He was hoping meeting someone new would fill the hole that Jack left. Ianto tried to tell himself that Joe was enough, that Joe loved him, that Joe cared, but it was hard. Joe wasn't a bad guy if he just wouldn't … Ianto didn't want to think about things that had happened, or the things he had done. He was just glad he had managed to evade Owen's exams for as long as he had. He wouldn't have answers for the scars, the bite marks, the bruises. He'd rather take off and run than be exposed. It made him feel weak. A man didn't let another man do that to him.
He pulled the chair out from the desk and sat down carefully, feeling not just his side but something else hurt as well, something that made Ianto feel ashamed. It had been consensual. It was, he told himself. It was just Joe would get rough, after a fight sometimes he would want to make up, but he was drunk, and it was rough, and he didn't take time to prepare Ianto like he should—or at all. When Ianto went into the bathroom after to get cleaned up, he found blood. It wasn't the first time, but it was the worst time so far.
Swallowing back his discomfort, he went about working his files. After about a half an hour, he couldn't sit any longer. The constant throbbing pain was getting to him. He pushed himself to stand, and his façade slipped, and he winced.
"Looks painful," came an all too familiar voice. Jack. It had to be Jack with those eyes that could look through you and see your soul.
Ianto straightened, regaining his composure. "I'm fine. Back was stiff."
Jack nodded, raising his brows at the same time. "Seemed a little more than that."
"No, sir. I assure you. It was nothing," Ianto said. "Unless you need me for something, I need to get these filled." He lifted a stack of folders.
"Actually," Jack said, taking a step forward and putting his hands into his pockets, "I need you in med bay. I noticed you're due for medical evaluation."
"You noticed?"
"I read the reports," he shrugged, "and Owen seems concerned. He said he hasn't seen you in over four months. Not sure how you evaded him that long. You of all people know that's breaking protocol."
Ianto shifted his weight and licked at his lips. He was cornered. "I can assure you I am in peak form, sir."
"Drop the sir, shit, Ianto. Peak form? I saw you wince. Ever since I got back you have been distant. What's going on?"
Jack's eyes were cutting through him and he had to look away. He heard the Captain walk closer and then there was a hand on his arm.
"Talk to me, Ianto."
"I can't do this, please, Jack," Ianto whispered. Just being that close to him, smelling him, it brought back all the pain of the past. He just wanted to get away, but he knew Jack wasn't going to let that happen.
Silence hung in the damp air and Ianto swallowed the lump forming in his throat.
"I told you before why I had to leave, but I'm back and not going anywhere. Talk to me, just as friend, Ianto. Talk to me. I know something is wrong."
Ianto looked at Jack, really looked and saw the concern in his eyes. "I can't talk about it."
"Why?"
Ianto could feel his body beginning to betray him as tears began to build in his eyes before rolling down his cheeks. Something about Jack could always melt Ianto's well-constructed defenses. He had to hold it together. He couldn't let anyone see how broken he was, how weak he was.
"I can't, Jack," Ianto choked. His wall was crumbling, and he couldn't hold the bricks from falling. Jack was gonna find out. Ianto's heart began to pound. He tried to step away, move around Jack, but he couldn't. Jack was there, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him tightly against his chest.
Ianto cried out in pain, dropping the files he was holding. He folded from the pain, wrapping his arms protectively around his ribs.
"Ianto!" Jack said.
"It's okay," Ianto breathed through the pain.
Jack gently placed a hand of Ianto's back. "Just breathe, then you have some explaining to do."
Slowly, Ianto got control over himself again and straightened. Jack's hand fell away and Ianto felt a pang of loss. He missed Jack's gentle touch.
Ianto drew a shaky breath and let it out slowly, traitorous tears running down his cheeks. Jack was just watching him, looking him over, studying him like some alien and he felt exposed. He never really thought out how this would play out and that wasn't like Ianto. He was unprepared. He wasn't ready to face Jack. He didn't want to see Jack's face when he realized the truth, that he was weak, that he was used and undeserving.
"Look at me, Ianto," Jack commanded. "Talk to me. Whatever is going on, we can fix it."
Ianto shook his head, wiping his tears. He couldn't look at Jack.
"Please, Ianto." Jack reached out and gently lifted Ianto's chin.
Hesitantly, Ianto looked at the older man. He stared into his eyes, and his resolve began to waiver. He wanted Jack. That spark was still there, and right then, in pain, ready to fall apart, he just wanted to cry against the Captain's chest and let it all go. It had been so much to carry alone. He was tired, and he was tired of defending what Joe did, but he just didn't know how to find the words to explain or where to start. He didn't know if Jack would still want him after knowing what Joe had done to him, what he'd let him do.
"Who hurt you?" Jack asked.
Ianto swallowed. He knew he either told Jack or Jack would find out on his own. He was in too deep now.
"I met him after you left," Ianto explained. "He doesn't do it on purpose." He found himself saying the same lies he told himself and Jack's face seemed to darken and become hard. "I should have told you I was seeing someone. I didn't want anyone to know."
"How long has he been hitting you?"
Ianto looked down. "Since you came back."
Jack scrubbed a hand over his face. He looked hurt. "I should have seen it."
Of course, Jack would blame himself. Ianto hadn't thought of that. It made him feel worse.
"Jack …"
"How bad are you hurt?" Jack asked.
He looked up Jack. He didn't want to answer. He didn't want to see anymore hurt in Jack's eyes, but he knew he had to come clean. This was Torchwood, and this was Jack. He wasn't getting out of this now. The truth had to come out.
"I don't know." He didn't have the strength to say it, to say he had let another man beat him and use him like he had.
Jack seemed to study his face before bringing a hand up to cup Ianto's cheek. "Ianto, talk to me. If you don't, I'm getting Owen, and I may still get Owen depending on what you say."
Ianto's heart began to pound in his chest again. He drew a breath. "It's mostly my ribs this time."
"Mostly?" Jack asked softly.
"Nothing else too important," Ianto lied. Jack could never know about the rest.
"It's important to me."
"I'm fine. Can I get back to work?" Ianto shifted and tried to step around the Captain but the older man stopped him, putting a firm hand on his chest.
"Why are you suddenly ready to run?" Jack asked, looking Ianto over.
Ianto could feel himself beginning to sweat. He was getting dizzy.
"Easy, slower breaths," Jack said.
It wasn't until then that he realized he was nearly hyperventilating. He needed to get away. Jack wouldn't let him though. He was right there, blue eyes watching him.
"Ianto, I'm going to ask you something and I want you to just answer yes or no, okay?"
There was no doubt he could see how tainted he was. The tears were back and Ianto couldn't fight any longer. He couldn't get away.
"Please, Jack. Let it go." He couldn't breathe. He collapsed to his knees, arms wrapping around his head and clawing at his hair. The pain of everything felt like it was consuming him.
Hands were on his, pulling his arms down. Jack was whispering soothing words.
"Ianto, did he do more than hit you?"
Ianto let out a cry and that was enough of an answer for Jack.
"He won't get away with this." Jack was knelt in front of Ianto. He cupped Ianto's face and lifted his head, pressing his lips to his forehead. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm sorry I left. I'm sorry he did this to you," Jack breathed against Ianto's skin. "Tell me you're okay."
"I don't know."
"It's okay. We're gonna fix this." Jack said. "His life is over. You know that, don't you? I won't kill him, but I will find a reason to let UNIT make him disappear."
A sob broke from Ianto and he leaned into Jack, breathing in the smell that was Jack. He clung to him and let himself go. He let out all the pain he'd been holding. He felt Jack's arms wrapped around him and they stayed there, together, clinging to each other, holding onto whatever they had left between them. Ianto keened in his arms. The mix of physical and emotional pain blurred. Jack didn't ask another question. He just whispered soothing words and rubbed circles on his back. Maybe Ianto was going to be okay after all.