Might turn out to be quite a dark fic. There will be mentions of abuse in its many forms, prostitution, bad language and general not niceness.

Just a little thing to try and encourage a muse or something to flick on in my brain for my other fic. Who knows?

Definitely an AU fic. Characters and settings will be familiar to the original series other than that...the familiarity will probably end.

Ianto Jones never really had much of a chance.

His memory spanned back for a long time for a child, he could remember thinking before he could speak and reading before he could walk. He was an intelligent child; he might have even been considered a prodigy...had he been given the proper start in life.

Cowering behind the sofa with Rhiannon, his younger sister, he examined his life so far- something far too grown up for an nine year old to be doing. His life had always been dire (a word he had learned from the television) but it hadn't been as hopeless as it had in recent years. His mother had been kinder and his father hadn't been as cruel; he'd never hit Ianto back then...but then he hadn't hit his mother either. Ianto felt like he had to protect his mother from the maliciousness that his father, Rhodri, inflicted- mentally and physically.

He knew that his mother wasn't entirely stable; she'd fade in and out of reality believing that she was still a child herself and that Ianto was her brother rather than her son. The periods of her lucidity were becoming further and further away the more abuse she suffered at the hands of her husband.

Ianto shushed his sister who had begun whimpering; she was only six and didn't understand nearly as much as Ianto did. He'd thought that things would improve with Rhi's impending arrival, and they had...for a while. His father smiled and treated his mother with care and consideration; he'd even taken Ianto to the park and pushed him on the swings- a trip that had resulted in a broken arm but only as an honest accident...although Ianto sometimes wondered. His mother's mental health improved, permanently being the adult that Ianto needed.

Until it fell apart.

It just took one slip. Ianto still didn't understand the full nature of the incident that destroyed the temporary contentment, he may have been clever but he was still a child. His innocence clouded his understanding and he didn't understand why his mother seeing the postman was a bad thing. You had to see the postman to get the post. That was when Rhodri had beaten his mother till Ianto screamed himself raw, throwing his tiny frame at his father who used him as the punching bag his mother had been up till that point.

Ianto had no idea how his baby sister survived inside his mother but he was eternally grateful that she had. She was a wonderful thing when she was still small and helpless, she still was. Ianto loved her more than anything in his life and he'd promised to protect her against the terrible world they had to grow up in. He fed her when his mother lapsed into a state of childhood, changed her and watched her grow, hiding her from their father when he was around.

He stroked her hair and she snuggled closer to him. He shushed her again and wrapped his arms tighter around her. He sighed quietly as he watched his mother stumble around the living room in a drunken state. He'd gotten used to her personality switching invariably from drunken adult to helpless child, cleaning up vomit from the former and playing tea party with the latter. Ianto had realised early on that the more he got his mother to eat in her regressive state the less drunk she would become when she switched back to reality. He didn't like cleaning up sick but if he didn't then his father would be mad and then they'd both be in trouble.

Occasionally his mother cried when she was in this state, calling out for her children to come and comfort her. Ianto had been forgiving in the beginning and comforted his mother in her state of self pity but soon her inebriated apologies turned to drunken hatred, cursing the day her children were born, forcing her to become older, making her realise with each year she was older too. Ianto was able to understand that their mother didn't mean what she said in this state but Rhiannon took everything at face value, blaming herself that her mummy was upset so often. It had taken Ianto a long time to make his baby sister understand that she was not to blame, that it was just the apple juice in mummy's special glass making her say those things.

Ianto wrapped a blanket around them both, he'd stocked up on the supplies behind the sofa taking anything they might need from the spare blanket to cereal bars and cartons of juice. He couldn't remember the last time their father had come home and he was glad. It had taken until Rhi was three years old for their father's 'trips' to begin. At first he would just disappear for the night, returning dishevelled and despondent in the morning; Ianto would long for the nights when his father would disappear in hopes of some sort of respite, a chance for the bruising to heal and to take care of his sister and mother in relative safety. Eventually his father would disappear for weeks at a time, sometimes only reappearing for a brief day and then disappearing soon afterwards. With one demon out of the house it made it easier for Ianto to deal with the one plaguing their mother. She seemed to improve while Rhodri was out of the house on these trips but her husband had a poor judge of timing and just when Ianto thought he'd manage to pull his mother back from the mental precipice she was teetering on his father would come back and destroy his efforts, breaking his mother and himself in the process.

Ianto had long given up hoping that his father would disappear for good, whenever he thought that things were going to be okay, that things were looking brighter, he'd come stumbling back into their lives dragging the whole family back to square one with his appearance.

'Ianto...'

Ianto pushed Rhiannon behind him as he cautiously listened to his mother's voice.

'Where are you, baby?'

Ianto scowled, pushing them both backwards so they were further away from the opening between the sofa and the wall. His mother slurred her way through an apology, her voice cracking halfway through. Promising that she would be a better mother, that she would protect him rather than letting him take the brunt of Rhodri's anger, that she would clean up and stop drinking.

Ianto rolled his eyes, a habit he'd picked up from hearing constant lies. He put his finger to his lips when he heard Rhiannon start to whimper again, handing her a juice carton to keep her quiet.

'Come out here! I'm your mother!'

Ianto nearly snorted, it hadn't taken long for her to descend into threats and orders tonight. She must have had more than usual. His mother's tirade lasted longer than her apologies had, threatening to act more like his father if he didn't come out and help her.

Ianto didn't move a muscle knowing that she soon would get exhausted or bored of looking for him and end up passing out in a pile of sick. He'd help her then, because she was sincere when she was sober. She was sorry and she loved him. She was just too weak. Ianto often loathed that he had to be the strong one, wished that his mother would grow a back bone and run away taking them away from this awful place...but he knew that with her periods of lucidity being so infrequent the thought wouldn't occur to her.

The shouts of their mother soon faded away and he heard the distinct sound of retching from the kitchen. Placing Rhi back on his lap, Ianto drew the blanket back around them letting his sister snuggle into the fabric.

'When's mummy going to get better, Nantoe?'

'Soon, Rhi. She just has to be sick and then she'll be okay again.'

Rhiannon perked up in his lap, 'And then we can play tea party again?'

'Maybe, we'll see how mam's feeling in the morning...she might want to play grownups again.'

'Okay,' she mumbled into his chest, 'I think I like it better when mummy plays grownups.'

Ianto stroked his sisters hair as she drifted off to sleep, 'Me too, Rhi. Me too...'

TWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTW

When Ianto woke he stretched out his back, trying to work out the knots that had formed from sleeping near upright for as long as he could remember. He shifted Rhiannon gently from his lap, placing her head on a pillow, and padded to the kitchen.

His mother was sat upright with her bottom lip quivering, 'Yannnno, I got sick on me.'

Ianto smiled and took his mother's hand, succinctly covering the disgust he felt, 'it's okay, Lauren. I'll clean you up and then we can play games again.'

He grabbed the dishcloth from the sink and ran it under the lukewarm water, squeezing it gently the excess ran off and he wiped his mothers face, clearing the sick from her cheek and neck.

'There you go, Lauren. But you'd better have a bath so you're extra clean.'

His mother snivelled and nodded, 'Fanks Yano.'

Leading her up to the bathroom, Ianto ran a shallow bath for his mother pouring in a generous amount of bubble bath, 'Okay, you get in; I'll leave the towel here for you.'

Tying up his mother's hair so it wouldn't get wet, he instructed her to be sensible in the bath because water could be dangerous no matter how small an amount and to make sure she cleaned herself all over and not to cheat because otherwise she would smell. Looking serious, his mother nodded from the tub.

Ianto went back to the kitchen and busied himself with clearing up the inevitable pile of sick near the bin but not quite in there. Rhiannon walked in looking sleepy and dragging the pillow behind her.

'Is mummy not playing grownups?'

Ianto smiled, 'Not today, but we have fun playing tea party, don't we?'

Rhi shrugged, 'I s'pose so,' settling herself at the breakfast table she clutched the pillow to her chest, 'Is daddy coming home today?'

'Doesn't look like it,' Ianto discarded of the towel he'd used to clean up the mess, 'Do you want him too?'

Rhiannon shook her head fiercely, 'I hate him. I hate that he makes you and mummy hurt!'

Ianto hugged his sister, 'He's not here now and I'm not hurt,' he smiled his biggest smile, 'See! I'm happy.'

'But you don't look happy here!' she gestured to his eyes, 'The happy is only here,' she pointed to his mouth.

Ianto genuinely smiled then, 'You're such a clever girl, you know that right?'

'I'm not clever like you!'

Ianto tickled her, 'No, you're a different clever, but clever all the same.'

Rhiannon giggled hysterically, 'No, Nantoe! Tickles!'

'Kids could you quiet down please? Mummy has a headache...'

Their mother stumbled into the kitchen, a towel wrapped around her body and a hand on her head, 'Is there any Paracetamol, Cariad?'

Ianto smiled, 'I'll just grab it, Mam,' he rushed to the cupboard nearly tripping in his haste only to be caught by his mother.

'Careful, darling. Don't want you hurting yourself.'

Rhiannon looked at her mother in awe, 'Are you playing grownups today?'

Lauren Jones smiled blithely, 'that's the plan, sweetheart,' she kissed Rhi's nose, 'Now my darling children...what to have for brekkie?'

'Scrammy eggs!' Rhiannon squealed, having no qualms at taking full advantage of her mother's lucidity.

'Ooh that sounds scrummy! How about it, Ianto? Scrammy eggs sound good to you? With toasty soldiers on the side?'

Ianto felt the most content he'd been in a while, a fact that made him immediately aware of his father's impending re-entry, 'That sounds good.'

Lauren giggled, 'You sound so grown up, darling!'

As their mother busied herself in the kitchen making them all a batch of scrambled eggs, Ianto and Rhiannon chattered happily at the table, pleased that they hadn't had a breakfast of milky bread again- something Ianto was capable of making them that was simple and nutritious.

Ianto almost stuffed the meal down his throat with a similar fervour as Rhiannon, they both knew that this breakfast could be short lived and were determined to take full advantage of a hot meal, even if it was only scrambled egg.

'Jeez, kids. Slow down or else you'll choke!'

Rhiannon smiled up, 'I like scrammy egg too much to be slow!'

Lauren smiled at her children, practically unaware that it had been 10 days since their last proper meal- a roast she had been able to finish and dish out before lapsing back into childhood. She frowned as she remembered the last time she cooked, 'it's Monday today, isn't it?'

Ianto swallowed, 'It's Wednesday.'

Lauren frowned, Wednesday? But she'd cooked the roast on Sunday...was it possible she had been in a state since then? She only remembered being drunk last night though...

Shrugging she tucked into her breakfast as well, wondering if she'd only imagined throwing up last night.

TWTWTWTWTWTWTWTW

Ianto knew that the contentment couldn't last. The fact that his mother had time to recover physically and mentally should have been the indicator. He shoved Rhiannon behind the sofa the moment he heard the front door open. The look of terror on his mother's face mirrored how he was feeling on the inside. He quelled the trembling of his body as the footsteps drew closer to the living room.

'Lauren! Where the fuck are you?'

His mother stood to attention, not moving a muscle as her husband walked into the room. Rhodri was a tall man, over six foot tall he filled the room as he entered. He was broad and had an impressive physique. His eyes were red rimmed and bloodshot, the pallor of his skin an unhealthy sheen, the alcohol bleeding out of every pore in his body giving him the scent of booze.

'Come here you slut.'

Lauren moved cautiously over to him, trying not to flinch as he pulled her towards him, plundering her mouth in an aggressive manner.

'What's wrong with you? Stupid bitch. Aren't you pleased to see your husband?'

She smiled weakly, 'Of course I am, darling! You've been gone for so long...'

Rhodri kicked her legs out from under her, causing her to fall forward on all fours.

'That's it, honey. You love being on your knees for me don't you.'

Lauren started to tremble.

'What are you shaking for? Huh?' he dragged her back up to his eye level by her hair, 'Disgusting whore, look at yourself...you're fucking ugly as sin. No wonder I hate coming back here when all I have is a fuck ugly wife and a dumb brat who doesn't know what's good for him.'

Ianto stared up at his father.

'Oh yeah. Don't think I haven't seen you stood there like her personal body guard, 'he chuckled, 'not that you're a very good one. You fall down after one kick.'

Ianto didn't flinch; he was well practised at this.

'Right you little whore, you're gonna show me how much you've missed me,' he guided Laurens face down so she was level with his crotch, 'You know what to do.'

Lauren looked uncertainly at her husband then at Ianto, 'In- in front of Ianto? I can't do that.'

'What was that you bitch?' he dragged her back by her hair, 'are you disobeying me?'

Tears leaked out of her eyes, 'Please, don't make me do that,' her head wrenched backwards as Rhodri slapped her around the face, the force of it throwing her off balance. Raining down on her, Rhodri began to punctuate his sentences with a short kick, 'You. Will. Do. As. I. Say.'

A small moan escaped Lauren's mouth, 'Please, stop!'

Picking her up by her neck he slapped her around the face again, the grip making her unable to fall backwards. He added a quick jab to her stomach, 'No other bastard children in there? Fucking the postman again?'

Ianto screwed up his courage and flung himself at the man's back; clinging around his neck with one arm he dug his fingers into his father's face with the other making Rhodri howl.

'You little fuck! I'll make you pay for that!'

Ianto tried to evade the grasp of his father but didn't make it away in time, holding back the tears from the pain raining over his small frame. He felt the skin break on his lip and blood trickle down his chin. He heard his mother screech and fling herself on Rhodri in a vain attempt to help her baby.

Consciousness was fading for Ianto, but his self preservation won out enabling him to drag himself behind the sofa collapsing in the small space, feeling reassured at Rhiannon's small hands dragging him further in and dabbing at his face with a cloth he'd stashed there. He stayed awake long enough to hear his mother plead and beg and promise the anger out of his father, taking him out of the room and up the stairs.

The edges of darkness began to swim around his vision, warning him of his impending black out, closing his eyes he let the blackness engulf him and take him away to oblivion.