"What are you doing?"
John stood in the doorway to the bedroom, hands on hips, watching his partner with a look of disbelief on his face. Ianto was rummaging through the closet, clearly stressed as he kept running a hand nervously through his hair, as he pulled out various items of clothing. One by one, these items were held up for inspection before being unceremoniously dumped on top of a growing pile on the floor. A large hold all was open by his feet, its contents spilling out all over the rug.
"What does it look like I'm doing?" he snapped.
"It looks like you're packing," John retorted, "but I know that can't be it, 'coz I'm pretty sure we talked about this."
Ianto paused. He looked at the deep red tee shirt he was holding in one hand and then at the khaki cargo pants he clutched in the other. Finally, he let out a calming breath, dropped them both on the floor and flopped on the bed with a sigh.
"We did, John, but I thought..."
"No, you didn't," John yelled loudly, "That's just it, you didn't think. You must know you can't go to America."
"I could, if...".
"Oh please," John growled in frustration, "please tell me you are not thinking of doing what I think you're thinking of doing."
Ianto's gaze flicked up. For a moment John thought the Welshman was going to lose his temper, but then, instead of shouting or throwing something at him, he gave an amused grin and chuckled.
"I'm not sure, could you repeat the question?"
John laughed, the tension leaving his body as he shook his head, "No, I don't think I could," he said. He moved further into the room and sat on the bed, draping an arm over Ianto's shoulder. He ruffled his hair then laughed again when Ianto sent him a death glare in response. He played with the man's fringe, pushing a few stray hairs out of his eyes, and smiled sadly.
"What am I going to do with you, Eye-Candy," he sighed.
Hitching a breath, Ianto made a noise which was half sob, half hiccup and stared into John's eyes. After a brief moment of silence, he spoke, his voice breaking with emotion, "I am sorry, you know."
"Yeah, I know." John assured him.
The two men sat side by side on the bed, the only sound, the noise of the cars going up and down on the busy road outside their house.
After a while, John lifted his arm to reveal his wrist strap, "Shall I call him?" he raised an eye-brow questioningly.
Ianto looked at the half packed bag on the floor, then sighed and nodded his head.
TWTWTWTWTW
Half an hour later, the doorbell rang and while Ianto made coffee, John showed Jack into the lounge.
"What's all this about?" Jack said. He walked up to the the fireplace and stood, warming his hands on the fire, "You know I'll always make time for you both but we're up against a deadline now. We leave for America the day after tomorrow and we have to be ready."
John sighed,
"He's not going, Jack," he said.
"What?" Jack spun around so quickly, John worried the man was going to fall into the fire, "Don't be ridiculous."
"I am not being ridiculous," John's voice rose, getting louder and louder with each syllable, "He. Is. Not. Going."
"Will you keep your voices down," Ianto pushed open the door with his foot and put the tray he was carrying down on the coffee table. He handed a coffee to Jack then sat down on the couch, watching with trepidation as the immortal took a sip.
Jack paused for a moment to savour the flavour, letting a contented sigh escape his lips before putting the mug down on the mantlepiece and turning his attention back to the matter in hand, "I'm sorry for shouting Ianto," he said, "but John dragged me all the way over here just to tell me some ridiculous story about you not coming to America with us."
Ianto shivered in a way that had nothing to do with the cold and held his mug in both his hands, close to his body.
"I'm not," he murmured.
"What?" Jack repeated. He looked at the two men sitting on the sofa, his gaze flicking from one to the other. When he spoke again his voice was clipped as if he was making an effort to keep from losing his temper.
"Look, John," he snapped, "I know you want to keep him safe. So do I, but it's not that easy. He's Torchwood and sometimes sacrifices have to be made."
"Don't you dare," It was Ianto, not John who spoke up, putting down his mug so forcefully, the contents spilled over the edge. He rounded angrily on Jack, throwing an arm towards John, "Don't you dare imply he isn't ready to make that sacrifice."
"Oh wake up, Ianto. Have you forgotten he was the one who brought us back here a year too late just so he could keep you safe from the 456."
Ianto looked away and huffed but didn't respond, after all it was true, and John had once claimed he was willing to give the earth to keep the young Welshman safe. He had a feeling this situation was different, but he knew Jack would think him naive for saying it.
"John doesn't think like you and me," Jack went on, "he doesn't understand about duty or responsibility," Ianto gritted his teeth but didn't rush to his defence this time, which, John had to admit, stung a little.
"Ha," he spat, "Who the hell do you think you are, Mr "I'm the Responsible One," You weren't always so quick to do your duty either. I remember when you used to be fun."
Jack snorted through his nose, breathing heavily. He threw up his arms in despair and yelled, "for fuck's sake." He rested his elbow on the mantle, massaging his brow as he took a couple of deep breaths in and out.
"Right," he said, finally turning around and pulling himself up to his full height, "this is getting us nowhere. We don't have a choice. Like I said, we're Torchwood and this is what we do. Ianto, you have your instructions, we are leaving the day after tomorrow, and you will be leaving with us."
"Tosh had a choice," Ianto breathed. He knew he sounded like a petulant child, but somehow couldn't stop himself, "She doesn't have to go."
Jack glared at him, leaving the Welshman in no doubt as to what he thought about that particular statement. Ianto bowed his head in shame,
"'m sorry," he murmured.
Jack bristled and drained his mug before holding it out for Ianto to take, "Yes well, We'll so no more about it." He strode towards the door, his countenance making it clear that as far as he was concerned the matter was closed. He stopped when he had his hand on the door knob and turned, "I'll see you in the morning," he snapped. He was half way through the door when he felt John grab his wrist.
"Tell him, Ianto," the former time agent barked.
Looking down at John's hand, wrapped tightly around his wrist, Jack frowned and snapped,
"What the hell is the matter with you two."
"I can't go to America," Ianto spoke slowly, stressing each syllable as he went. He paused, unable to continue, and glanced at the two men by the door before quickly looking away again, "I can't go because," he tried again. He took a deep breath and looked at John imploringly, "I can't say it!" he yelled. Tears spilled over and ran unchecked down his cheeks and without hesitation, John rushed over to him, gathering him up in his arms and petting his hair, whispering soothing words and glaring at Jack over Ianto's shoulder.
"He's an addict, Jack," John said, "He can't go with you because if he did, he'd be cut off from his supplier."
Jack stood frozen to the spot, transfixed by the scene before him. Part of him wanted to yell at John and demand answers. Most of all he wanted to know how long this been going on and why the hell hadn't John told him sooner. But instead of asking questions, he slumped on the sofa and stared at his hands clasped in his lap. In his heart, he knew it wasn't John's fault. Jack had missed the signs again, just like he had in those first few months when Ianto had first joined the team. Then, as now, Jack had been so wrapped up in his own worthless existence, he'd failed to notice the shy Welshman quietly falling apart right before his eyes. He smiled grimly at John, then with a calm that he didn't feel, suggested Ianto go make more coffee. Ianto glared at him, letting them both know he knew they were sending him away so they could talk about him.
"What happened," Jack asked, as soon as he had left the room, "you didn't..." he let the sentence hang.
"What?" John frowned at first but then glared angrily, "No," he hissed, "What do you take me for, I haven't had anything stronger than coffee in years, not even hyper vodka."
"Hell," Jack sighed, rubbing his face in a gesture of despair, "I know that, Of course I do. I'm sorry I'm just looking for answers here. Isn't that why we took him to that clinic."
"I should have known better," John said, "And so should you. Have you forgotten how many rehabs I did before I could say I was cured. I went to those places over and over and said all the right things while I was there knowing full well I was going to go hook up with a dealer as soon as I left. I thought there was something special about that last place but it turns out there wasn't. It only worked for me because I was ready."
"And Ianto isn't?" Jack asked.
"No he isn't," John nodded, "I don't blame you for not seeing it, but me, I should have seen through him. I've been there so many times myself."
Jack let out a sigh again,
"What do we do now?" he asked, "you have to understand, this mission is more important than all of us. If it fails, Ianto, you, the team, all of you could die anyway."
"Yeah I know," John agreed, "but still, you must see Ianto can't go. Two or three days away from his dealer and he'd be no use to anyone. He'd be shaking so badly he'd have difficulty holding his gun let alone shooting straight. Even with all of Torchwood's resources, all that technology, there's nothing you can do to counteract that. I caught him packing earlier, I think he was going to try and smuggle enough through customs to last until the end of the mission, but I couldn't let him do that. Not knowing what the penalty would be if he got caught."
Jack nodded,
"I'll call Martha in the morning," he said, "she'll take him on as a patient since Owen is going to be away. Leon will have to know too and that will mean he'll be suspended," Jack remembered the last time the young Welshman had been suspended and was thankful he'd managed to keep that particular event out of the official records. On paper at least, Ianto's personal file was sketchy to say the least, "this couldn't have come at a worse time for him since half his friends will be away. Me, Owen, Gwen, Mickey."
"He'll be okay, Jack. He'll have Martha and Tosh. And his sister."
Jack looked over at John,
"And you. Don't forget he'll have you."
"Ah yeah," John glanced nervously at the door, "about that."