Disclaimer: I own neither Torchwood nor Scooby-Doo.
*x*x*
Ianto kicked himself for the thousandth time since they left the hospital. The entire drive, Jack had given him the look, the one that threatened to drag all of Ianto's secrets out by force. He wasn't thinking, clearly, when he'd blurted out "I know it." and Jack wouldn't take "local knowledge" as a valid reason.
Which was silly, really. Gwen probably knew about the psychiatric hospital, too. As long as Jack had lived in Cardiff, it was amazing that he didn't.
He tried to get out of going. He said he had to check leads on the molecular structure of the film, that he should help Toshiko with her research, he even tried to stay behind—alone—at the Electro to search for clues, as if this were some demented episode of Scooby-Doo. Jack was having none of it.
The look wasn't helped at all by the sweet, cheerful nurse at the reception desk. "Ianto! Don't you look smart! And you're early this week."
Ianto took a steadying breath and forced a smile. He could feel Jack's eyes boring into the back of his head. "Actually, Megan, we're looking for someone. Her name is Christina. She'd be older—in her 80s at least—and we're told she's been here since she was a child. Ring any bells?"
Megan smiled. "Oh, of course. Lovely woman, she is! She's over on Ward D. Room 114. If you need help, you just ask Bethan, she's in charge over there. She'll let you know it, too!"
He rewarded her banter with a small, forced chuckle. He started in the direction of the ward but stopped when he realized Jack wasn't following. He turned to wait. He wished Jack would stop the dawdling. He wanted to be out of here as soon as possible, before someone more important than Nurse Megan saw him.
"You go on ahead, I'll be right behind you," his boss said, leaning across the reception desk and grinning flirtatiously.
This is not going to end well, he thought. Not that any visit here ever really did.
Ianto had always hated this hospital. Providence Park was the best in Wales, of course, but the clean, sterile walls had always screamed of hopelessness and despair. Nothing—not Cybermen or Daleks or even Retcon—terrified him as much as the thought of ending up here did.
It was a large part of the reason the tendency Torchwood agents had to die young never bothered him. He'd be frozen in the vaults long before he'd need this place. It was a sort of insurance policy, too. Protocol would never allow him to be put in hospital for long-term care. There were too many secrets he could reveal if he wasn't in his right mind. Worst case scenario, he'd be taking an extended vacation to the Flat Holm facilities. Best case scenario, Jack would put a bullet between his eyes.
Coming to a halt outside Christina's room, Ianto decided to wait for Jack. He didn't know what kind of state the woman would be in and the Captain was always better with people anyway.
He leaned against the door and tried to ignore the panicked pounding of his heart. He should have refused to come, point-blank. He'd never get out of here without having to come clean.
He tried to imagine what Jack would say, how he'd react. He'd probably laugh it off, say the odds of him becoming ill were slim, that Ianto was worried for nothing. It's what his GP, his sister, his Mamgu, everyone said. But Ianto saw the warning flags. He was so similar. The depression, the social awkwardness, the compulsion towards order. It was all there, just like it had been before.
"Probably not the safest place to wool-gather," Jack's voice cut in through his reverie. "They'll keep ya."
Ianto pinned him with his sternest glare. "Very. Funny. Sir."
The Captain chuckled. "Oh, cheer up, Ianto. Shall we?"
They took Christina—who was lovely and charming—for a stroll around the grounds. At the pretty white gazebo he'd sat in a hundred times before, she told them about the Ghostmaker and the Night Travellers. Ianto thought that she seemed more like someone's sweet old auntie than a nutter and wondered if she didn't stay in this...this prison because it was safest. There weren't likely to be carnival shows at a psychiatric hospital, after all.
Ianto felt relieved when her nurse came to collect her. They could leave, get back to the case, back to whatever the Rift had let loose on an unsuspecting Cardiff. If he was very, very lucky, Jack wouldn't say another word about their visit today. Ever.
"Aren't you going to say hello to your mom, as we're here?" Jack asked, with a casualness that was fooling no one.
Damn it, Megan. Apparently, confidentiality agreements meant nothing when exposed to the Harkness charm. "It isn't a good time, sir." He prayed that was enough.
"I insist."
He wanted to throw a tantrum. Could absolutely nothing go his way today? "Jack, she's...troubled."
His boss gave him a baleful look. "I kinda figured, if she was here," he said. "Look, Ianto, we're not leaving until we visit. Are you ashamed to introduce me, or something?"
"That's below the belt, Jack. Remind me again, when was it that you introduced me to your mother?" He knew that was a childish comeback, but it left his mouth before it could be filtered. He just wanted to bolt, to run away and deal with some aliens or Rift refugees or unmask the bloody Miner Forty-Niner with Scooby and the Gang, but Jack's look stopped him. His feet moved of their own accord and his mind cursed his own spinelessness.
When they reached his mother's room, he told Jack to button up his bloody coat and took a deep breath. Inside, the television channels were being changed rapidly. He sat in the chair next to a waiflike woman with dark curls and piercing, frantic blue eyes.
Ianto smiled. "Bore da, Mam. How are you today? Here, give me that." He pulled the remote from her gently and clicked it off. "How are you, Mam?"
"Ianto, Ianto, why would you wear that? You have to change. They'll see you, Ianto! It's not safe!" she whispered, thin fingers clawing at his suit. Ianto caught her hands in his and held them to her lap.
"I'm fine. I'm safe. No one knows I'm here," he murmured, keeping his voice calm. He wished Jack would just leave.
"You—you can wear one of my dresses, Ianto, like when you were little. They can't see you like this, Ianto. They'll think you know something. They'll take you! You can't let the aliens take you, not you."
"It's a disguise, Mam. I'm just blending in. Best place to hide a tree is in the forest, yeah? It's okay."
It was the wrong thing to say. She lost it in a way Ianto hadn't seen in ages. His mother started knocking over furniture and throwing anything she could in his direction, screaming all the while. "You can't have him! Imposter! You can't have my Ianto!"
At some point, Jack had disappeared from the doorway, for which Ianto was extremely grateful, but he came back now with a pair of orderlies. Ianto recognized one of them and didn't like the accusing glare he got one bit.
"Ianto, you know better."
He sighed. "I know, Matthew. I was...I was in the neighbourhood and didn't think. I'm sorry."
"Yeah, well, it's not me that deserves an apology, is it? You better leave. Don't be comin' back until you're properly dressed. I'll have you put on the no-visit list, make no doubt about it. Out!"
He scrambled out of the room and practically sprinted down the hall. He didn't stop until he reached the SUV. He pressed his forehead against the tinted window and bit back sobs.
"What the hell happened back there?" Jack asked, his complete bafflement etched all over his tone.
Ianto snorted. "They're not all like Christina, Jack, sweet old ladies who are just a bit off. When I said my mam is troubled, I meant she's troubled."
"What's wrong with her? What's wrong with your clothes?"
"Late onset schizophrenia. I don't think she's been taking her medication. Again. She...she believes aliens reckon men in suits know state secrets, so they abduct them. Most of the time. Sometimes she reckons aliens are men in suits. It's hard to tell."
"Aliens like...?" Jack asked pointedly, gesturing at the logo emblazoned on the company vehicle.
He shook his head sadly. "No, I checked. It was one of the first things I did when I got access to the Archives in London, before I deleted the records. It's not real aliens, it's just in her mind."
Jack wrapped his arms around his waist and pulled him into a hug. "How did she get here?"
Ianto nuzzled in. "When I was about eight, a couple of men came 'round, trying to convert folks to their church. They were wearing suits. My dad and sister were out doing the shopping. Mam was convinced they were there just to snatch me, to experiment on me. So she invited them in for a cuppa and stabbed them to death while they were waiting for the kettle to boil."
They stood there, embracing in the madhouse parking lot, for a long while until Ianto pulled away. "We have more important things to do than to talk about this, Jack."
Jack winked and shot him a wolfish leer. "You're right. What's this I hear about you wearing dresses when you were a kid?"
*x*x*
A/N: Well, that one got away from me. I don't think I meant for it to go where it went. I posted it a half-day early because I'm going to be away from home tomorrow. A few other notes: Today's prompt was (you guessed it) "Troubled."
Bore da is Welsh for "Good morning" and Mamgu is "grandma."
Late onset schizophrenia is an actual thing, but I took some significant liberties with it. There was some mention (somewhere...just don't ask me where) by the creators that Ianto's mother had ended up in Providence Park, but I don't think anyone said she was schizophrenic.
Miner Forty-Niner is a Scooby-Doo villain.
And I like to think Ianto wore dresses because Rhiannon forced him to play dress up. That's how it worked in my family. Thanks for reading!