Jack
Ianto Jones was just where Jack had left him but now he was sat on the bench that ran along the wall. His bags were on hooks next to him and his legs were pulled up onto the bench. He didn't talk, or even acknowledge Jack, he just stared blankly at nothing in particular. Ianto's eyes were red and his cheeks wet. Jack started to ask Ianto if he was okay, but his voice felt oddly out of place, so instead he moved towards the bench and sat facing Ianto, about a metre away, crossing his legs on the bench infront of him.
Ianto didn't move; he looked so small, curled up in the corner. Jack had never seen Ianto any way other than calm and collected. He prayed that nothing had happened to him, but Ianto wouldn't be acting like this for no good reason, so Jack analysed him in detail, looking for something out of place that could explain Ianto's behaviour. They were at school so it's not like someone could've hurt him, unless, Jack thought, it was someone at the school. Jack tried not to jump to conclusions just yet, after all, he couldn't see any sign that Ianto was hurt; physically, at least, he seemed fine.
His perfectly polished shoes were scuffed on the toes, but that could be easily explained. The dark grey trousers he wore looked the same as always, no problem there, but his always-ironed, crisp white shirt was tear stained and crumpled. Ianto's navy-blue tie was still knotted, but loose around his undone top button (Jack'd never seen that before). His left arm was wrapped tightly around his knees and the entire right side of Ianto's body was leant into the pale blue wall. Jack could just about see Ianto's right arm, his fist was clenched hard around something so tight that his knuckles were stretched white over the bone. Whatever it was, Jack could see it glint in the light when he turned his head. Jack's confusion was growing steadily as he continued to assess Ianto. Looking again at his hands, Jack noticed that Ianto's knuckles were scattered with small red cuts and it seemed like fresh bruises were just beginning to form; the blood rising to the surface creating a swollen appearance. Upon first glance, Ianto's face didn't show any emotion but Jack looked deeper into his supposedly lifeless features. His lips were slack, but not relaxed, almost as if Ianto couldn't find the energy to move them. However, his jaw was rigid, so Jack suspected that Ianto's teeth were clenched tight together. His cheeks were streaked with tears but Ianto was no longer crying and there were muscles twitching slightly near Ianto's temples. His eyes were red rimmed and tight, blazing with constantly changing feelings and emotions. They seemed sad at first, but as Jack watched, Ianto's eyes expressed anger, panic, hatred, intense pain, determination and indecision.
Ianto's perfect composure had been broken but Jack concluded that there seemed to be no danger. Ianto was obviously upset, distraught even, but he appeared safe. Jack released a breath that he hadn't realised he'd been holding. Seeing Ianto like this hurt Jack more than it should, perhaps it was something about how contrasting it was to Ianto's usual balance and tranquility. Anyhow, Ianto was in pain and Jack needed to help him.
They had been sat there for at least 5 minutes now and Ianto hadn't moved an inch, or breathed a word. This could take some time, Jack decided. He took his phone from his blazer pocket and typed two quick messages, keeping an eye on the unchanging Ianto. The first was to Owen and it read "I'm not going to catch you guys up, sorry I got distracted. See you tomorrow :)" The second was to his mum, "Hey mum, I might be late home, I'm with a friend, should be home for dinner though. Sorry, love you xx" Now he was ready to give his full attention to Ianto and help him if he could. He stared into Ianto's eyes, willing him to say something.