So. Erm. Yeah. Apologies to all – I know I promised I'd have this up a week ago. Ready for the excuse? It's half term over here in sunny Wales, so my family went on our usual holiday to stay with my Nana down in Somerset. Which was lovely, except that in the packing to go I totally forgot about this entire story, until we were halfway down the motorway. And I've been internet-less until today, since there's not a computer to be seen at my Nanas! So I apologise profusely.
Many thanks to those who reviewed last time – they made my day!
And so, on we go again…next up, Ianto!
I wish there was a law in Torchwood, that you had to tell your entire life story the moment you became employed. Well, I don't really – could you imagine it! – but it would save so much…
Like Ianto and Lisa. He's so cut up inside, and yet to look at him you'd never think it. He's seen so much…more, maybe, than any of us, except perhaps Jack. He was in Torchwood 1, after all. I remember the look on Jacks face when the news came through. We'd known something was wrong – the rift readings those few months building up to it were going haywire, and then the ghosts…but we never even dreamed…
I went there, once. Only once. With Jack, to some meeting. I meet Ianto then, and Lisa, although I don't think he remembers. She was working in one of the halls, computer stuff, and Ianto was doing coffee as always. I remember the look on her face when he bought her a cup – just smiled up at him like he was the greatest thing in the world. That's why I remember – I wished then that someone would look at me that way.
That night, when we got back from that village, Ianto and me came back here and I just ranted at him about her for about an hour. Called Gwen all the names under the sun, and a few I'd picked up from the various texts that end up on my desk. And he just sat there and listened, and offered me a cup of coffee at the end of it. Trust Ianto.
Never did get the coffee though – we both just suddenly burst into tears. Like the last two days had suddenly crashed down on us all at once.
He was crying about Lisa, too, I think, although he never said her name once. I don't know if he had cried properly since she died, but he definitely did then. Proper earth shaking sobs, the pair of us. Like the world had ended. Which, in a way, it had.
I thought he hated us, for a little while. Ianto, I mean, after Lisa. Half expected to find poison in the coffee – he's certainly got the drugs and the know-how to do it. I won't kid myself that he just forgave us like that, with a click of his fingers. But of all of us, Ianto…he doesn't hold a grudge, not like we can. Or if he does, it's a private grudge.
I first knew he didn't hate us when he came in for the first time, a few mornings later. He'd been in and out a couple of times, wandering round with a binbag, but that morning he was back officially. And he nodded at us all, just like he always did, and bought us coffee when his coffee sensing skills picked up on our need for it. But just before he left – it was, thank god, one of those normal days when we weren't of careening round Cardiff – he came up to each of us with one last mug, and stared at us all. Separately, just for a moment. And then he left. It was the first time in ages that I can remember him actually leaving before the rest of us.
Something about those few moments, when he was looking at me…I knew then that he didn't hate me. Disliked me, yes, a little, but not so much that he couldn't forgive me. He even forgave Jack, in the end, I think.
I wish I'd known the old Ianto, the one before Canary Wharf. I wonder how different he was to the one I know now. Don't get me wrong – I love this Ianto, but it's the same why I love this Jack. I'm all the while wondering if I'd have loved the old them's more.
He doesn't laugh, not this Ianto. He smiles, and occasionally chuckles, but I've never once heard him laugh, not properly. He was laughing in London, though. I wish…and there I go again, wishing. Nothing ever comes of wishing. Doing, yes, but not wishing. If you spend your life wishing, everyone else gets there first.
But still…I wish I could change it all, Ianto. Honestly I do. You do so much for us, and we hardly ever repay you. You're broken, I can see that in you now in a way that I couldn't before. You're broken, and nothing I do can ever fix you. If I could…but I can't, so it's no use thinking it.
I'll cry for you, though, partly because you won't cry for yourself, and partly because I need to cry. I'll cry for you, and for Lisa, and for the times you never had.
For the you I'll never know.
Ho hum. Not my favourite to write, but needed. And I do wish Ianto had got a bit more air time too – him and Myfanwy both!
