A Dark Addiction
Disclaimer- Don't own Torchwood… or I wouldn't be on this website would I :D
WARNINGS -Rated M- Mentions rape, self-harm, addiction, overall sadness…
What Ianto was doing was so utterly human. So weak. So pathetic. He was a puppet. And his memories held the strings. The thoughts. The dreams. The flash backs. They had made him start. But after the flash backs had faded and the thoughts had seized he didn't stop. He didn't stop what he did to escape. He continued to cut into his skin. Metal blade that molded his arm just didn't stop cutting. Blood was pouring from the fresh scars. It should have made him sick to his stomach to do such a thing but it… it made him happy. He felt like a nut case. He was an addict. The addiction being the sorrow that came from cutting. It was more jagged then just having a blade hit your skin. He couldn't just carve, he had to cry too. Right now he was in a Torchwood bathroom. He was never put in this situation before. Usually he was in the safety of his own home but… the addiction was calling for him and he had to cut before he went mad. This dark addiction needed more. And Ianto came. He went to a place where someone could possibly see him doing this. He always kept it so secret. The only person to find out was one of his best friends. An old friend from when he was a child. He had this addiction all his life but no one usually saw it. When his friend found out, he was pitied. He was treated so differently after that and that's what Ianto was trying to avoid. Trying to avoid being different. He just wanted to fit in. Ianto cut and cut. Nothing. Nothing left to give. He didn't feel the blade anymore. It was numb. The emotionless mask he had always wore from the beginning was starting to mold into his face. There was no more tears left to give and no more sorrow that was usually left in its place. The numbness took effect.
Ianto Jones, 15 years old.
He was on the floor of his bedroom. Crying. Angry hot tears running down his face. His father was sleeping on his bed, completely exhausted. The thoughts of what had just occurred flooded into Ianto's brain. "I'm disgusting… Feel so dirty. SO FUCKING DIRTY!" Ianto almost tore his skin off as he tried to rub away the filth. He ran into the shower. He scrubbed his skin so hard, he thought it would just rip off. The moaning. His father's moans of pleasure as he… "No! No! NO!" Ianto cried out. "I can't do it anymore! The memories are too terrifying…" Ianto continued to rub his skin harshly which created cuts and blisters. He got out and wrapped himself in a towel. "Still so dirty…" He took out a kitchen knife. He got dressed and ran back into the bathroom, knife still in hand. He pulled his pants leg up and cursed slightly as he drew the knife up his leg. He could feel the pain as the knife traveled past his calf. The pain made him feel alive. He cut to feel something, instead of the numb that was usually there when his father hurt him.
Present day.
The numb. He couldn't take it anymore. It wasn't enough. The memory couldn't even penetrate the barriers that were set in his mind. He remained, with an expressionless face. Then he heard a knock on the door.
"Tea Boy! You still in there? It's been like a fucking hour!" Owen screamed from outside the door. Oh FUCK! Ianto thought. He forgot to keep track of time. That's when the door was opened. Ianto felt terror as Owen stepped inside. The fright never reached Ianto's face but the same could NOT be said for Owen. "Ianto! For fucks sake man!" He ran inside and started to clean the blood off Ianto who was still frozen from shock. Owen saw all the other scars. Some overlapping each other. Some fresh but some old. Some were just so impossibly old. Owen couldn't believe it. Someone like Ianto having this kind of secret. Owen was about to call over Jack when Ianto suddenly returned.
"No! Owen please! Don't tell anyone else!" Owen looked at Ianto like he had two heads when he heard this.
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN DON'T TELL ANYONE! I know I seem like an asshole sometimes-"
"All the time…"
"But I still care about what happens to people, especially the crew here in Torchwood. I would have never guessed that you would ever do something like this! Why didn't you tell anyone?"
"BECAUSE I DIDN'T WANT TO BE TREATED DIFFERENTLY! When people find out about this kinda stuff… They act like you're a piece of thin glass. Like anything they saw will make you fall apart. And I never want to be treated like that… Not again." Ianto confessed and Owen looked in understanding.
"Fine. I won't tell anyone Ianto but only if you promise to stop."
"I can't…"
"And why not?"
"Because it's like an addiction. When I'm not doing it, I'm thinking about doing it later. And when I am doing it, I'm savoring the moment like it's my last. It keeps calling me back to cut again and I can't control myself."
"Ianto, you going to have to speak to some about it. Someone professional."
"Can you do it…?" Ianto asked not wanting to have to tell someone else about this.
"Sure. You can meet me at my flat after work. And trust me, I will be watching you from now on…"
"I figured…"
"How have you managed to shag the boss without him noticing?"
"Hehe… Wouldn't you just like to know," Ianto said smiling.
"Actually yeah I would. I think I might need to get Jacks eyes checked." Owen and Ianto left the bathroom a while later and continued on with their day. Torchwood stayed the same. Ianto still fetched coffee and Owen still gave everyone a hard time. Tosh was translating alien languages and Jack was being the weird, but gorgeous, 51st century man. And Ianto wouldn't change that for the world.
A/N-Its 6:45AM and I haven't had any sleep yet since 10AM yesterday, technically. I wrote this quickly because I was bored… DON'T JUDGE ME! :D Anyways, I ended it as a one shot because I really don't want to start a multi chapter story yet… If you want me to continue and make this a chapter story then write a review and tell me to. PEACE OUT PEOPLE!
