Deal in the Morning
Not entirely sure where this came from. One-shot, set post Exit Wounds. More hurt/comfort than anything else.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. As usual.
Jack found Ianto scrubbing at the bloodstains on the floor, his eyes red with exhaustion and his face haggard. He didn't look up when Jack approached, or even when Jack laid a gentle hand on his shoulder.
Jack frowned, noting how desperate his movements with the scrubbing brush were, how his suit was still dirty and his tie was wonky. "Ianto..." he said, trying to keep the exhaustion from his voice and failing miserably. All he wanted was to curl up in bed with Ianto and sleep, forget all of the day's events. God, Tosh, Owen—
Ianto shook his head, a convulsive twitch, as if trying to rid himself of a fly buzzing around his ear. "Can't stop," he muttered, scrubbing harder. "Got to get it out."
"Ianto," Jack tried again, crouching down beside him and taking the brush from his hands. "Ianto, stop."
Ianto flinched as he met Jack's gaze, his blue eyes clouded and confused. "So much blood," he said in a cracked whisper. "Got to get it clean. Blood, everywhere—"
"Hey," Jack said, cutting him off. He pulled Ianto close into a hug, burying his nose in Ianto's neck and wishing he could just let go of everything and—
"It's my fault," Ianto said brokenly.
Jack stiffened, instinctively holding Ianto tighter. "No, it's not." He took a trembling breath before admitting, "It's mine."
"I was meant to go to Turnmill." Ianto shook slightly in his arms, his hands coming up to clutch at Jack's back. Jack was reminded vividly of the aftermath of the Beacons, when he had held Ianto through a breakdown much like this. Now, Jack had to postpone his own grieving so that he could help Ianto, like Ianto had so often helped him before. "It should have been me," Ianto whispered. "Not Owen. Torchwood needs Owen."
"Ssh..." Jack murmured. "Don't think about it." He rubbed the nape of Ianto's neck comfortingly, running his fingers through the short curls, trying to ease away the knots of tension he found there.
"Take me to bed," Ianto said suddenly.
"Ianto, I don't think—"
"Please, Jack." Ianto pulled back to look at him pleadingly, his eyes saying more than words ever could. Please.
Jack hesitated, then nodded. "But only if we go back to yours."
"What about the Hub?"
"I..." Jack struggled to find the words to explain that he didn't think he could stand sleeping in his small room anymore; they seemed drifting, out of reach, like so many of his memories now. "I don't think anything's going to happen tonight."
Even now, Ianto seemed to see through his poor explanation and understand what Jack meant. He smiled wanly, clearly trying to put himself back together. "Then we'd better lock up. I'll just finish here—"
"No, Ianto."
Ianto looked at him, bewildered. "But—"
"No," Jack repeated. "We'll deal with it in the morning. For now, just..." He let the sentence trail off, not entirely sure how to finish it.
Ianto glanced down for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "Okay." He stood up, pulling Jack to his feet as well. Jack tried to flash him his usual disarming grin, but it stuttered and faded, like a failing light-bulb.
Ianto didn't try to smile, either. He took Jack's hand and squeezed it, the gesture comforting Jack more than he would have expected it to. "C'mon," Ianto said, tipping his head out the medical bay. "Let's go home."
Don't know what I think about this fic. :-/ Ah well – let me know what you think, please! Reviews are loved!