The next afternoon
"Oh, you are kidding me."
Ianto glanced back at Spence, who was standing the doorway of the bathroom.
"Problem, sir?"
"Oh, no. No, not at all. You just go right ahead. Use our private facilities for your bloody pet. Go ahead and treat it like fucking royalty. Bloody hell, Jones..."
Ianto returned his attention to the bath, determined to do everything he could to ensure the experience was as enjoyable for Joe as possible. He'd added a generous amount of bubble bath formula, and now strawberry scented bubbles were positively frothing up and over the edge of the tub.
"I have approval from Director Hartman to use these facilities three times a week. If you have a problem with that, please take it up with her. If you'll excuse me, I have to bathe Joe."
Spence shook his head as Ianto moved past him.
"One day you are going to come crashing down, you pompous little bastard, and I promise you that I will be there to crow when you do."
When Ianto re-entered Joe's room, he paused, observing Joe critically. This was the moment of truth, where he found out whether his time with Joe had been enough for Joe to obey him. He wanted this to work desperately, and not only for his own sake. If this was successful, then it meant the start of a much better life for Joe... or at least, that was what Ianto hoped.
Ianto walked over to where Joe sat on his new bed, clutching the torn blanket in his good hand. It had become something of a security blanket to him, Ianto supposed, and even though it was now torn and ragged, he wouldn't have dreamed of trying to take it away from him. He crouched down and unlocked the manacle around Joe's ankle. His heart was in his throat, and he fully expected his charge to bolt. It didn't happen.
Ianto looked up to find Joe watching him quizzically, and he smiled in reassurance. Standing, he held out a hand to Joe.
"C'mon, it's all right. Take my hand."
Joe hesitated, though, his gaze flitting nervously to the open door. For a moment, Ianto was confused. He'd been positive that Joe would take the opportunity and try to bolt. But instead, he sat there, unmoving, as though afraid...
And suddenly, realisation hit.
"You were experimented on, weren't you?" he asked softly. "The last time you left this room, they hurt you. You're remembering that."
As he spoke, a new realisation struck. He realised that all the times he'd noticed Joe watching the door, it hadn't been out of a desire to get out. Rather, it had been out of a fear of what would happen to him beyond the perceived safety of his room. Reaching out, Ianto stroked his fingers lightly over Joe's cheek in a soothing gesture.
"I'm not going to hurt you, cariad. Trust me."
He knew Joe didn't understand the words, but he hoped and prayed that he at least understood the tone. He startled himself, though, with his use of the Welsh word 'cariad'. Personally, he had always considered that particular word as being more intended for use between lovers... and yet, he felt comfortable using it with Joe. He couldn't explain it, or even really understand it within himself. It simply felt right.
Whether it was his words, or his tone, something worked. Suddenly, Joe accepted his hand and stood up.
"Walk with me, Joe," Ianto encouraged him, leading him towards the door. "Don't look at anyone else. Just walk with me, okay?"
With that, he slowly led Joe out of the room and down the hall.
Neither Spence nor any of his little lackeys were anywhere to be seen, and for that Ianto was extremely grateful. He led Joe along the corridor, and through into the bathroom.
Joe halted just inside the bathroom door, and Ianto felt him go rigid with fear. Whimpers escaped his lips, and when Ianto looks back at him, he saw tears start to roll down Joe's pale cheeks.
"Hey," Ianto murmured as Joe began to cry. "Hey, what's with the tears? It's all right, there's nothing here to hurt you."
Except, Ianto realised belatedly, there was. Joe's eyes were fixed on the tub, and Ianto suddenly found himself wondering what sort of water-based torments and tortures Joe might have been forced to endure in the past. Drowning? Electrocution, maybe? He didn't really want to know. All that was important now was making Joe understand that he had not been brought here to be tortured. The big question, though, was how to achieve that.
"Come over here," Ianto urged him, guiding him over to sit in a chair near the tub. Joe sat stiffly, still whimpering, and all the while clutching his blanket. Ianto ruffled his hair affectionately before stepping back and quickly stripping down to his shorts. By the time he was down to his boxers, Joe's whimpering had almost stopped, and he was staring at Ianto with a wide-eyed, curious gaze. Hoping he was doing the right thing, Ianto stepped into the tube and sank down into the hot water.
"See?" Ianto said with what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "Nothing to be afraid of. There's nothing here to hurt you."
Heart in his throat, Ianto risked closing his eyes and sinking down a little into the hot water. The soft moan that slipped from his lips was not entirely faked, either, as the heat of the water and the gentle fragrance from the bubbles began to soothe his own slightly frayed nerves.
Ianto wasn't sure how long he allowed himself to drift for. It might have been seconds or minutes. Gradually, though, he became aware of a soft splashing sound, and slowly opened his eyes to find Joe was crouching by the tub, and dipping his uninjured hand experimentally into the water.
Abruptly, Joe became aware that he was being watched, and Joe started back in mild fright. Ianto, however, smiled warmly and made no attempt to keep Joe where he was. It was, perhaps, the lack of any sort of pressure that encouraged Joe not to flee in panic.
"See?" Ianto told him gently. "It doesn't hurt. It feels good."
Ianto wasn't precisely sure when the turning point came in Joe's own mind. All he knew was that one moment Joe was idly splashing at the surface of the water. The next, he was climbing awkwardly into the tub with Ianto, clothes and all.
Ianto laughed, partly in relief and partly in amusement, as Joe sat with a deliberate thud, sending water splashing over the sides.
"There, you see? Doesn't that feel nice?"
Joe scooped up a handful of bubbles and stared at them curiously before suddenly bringing his hand to his face and licking at them. It was all Ianto could do not to burst out laughing as Joe's face screwed up at the soapy taste.
"No, not for eating," he said with a smile. "For washing. Look."
He simulated washing himself, and after a moment Joe tentatively began to copy. Ianto watched him keenly for the next few minutes while Joe pawed clumsily at his own body, before risking moving closer.
"Here, let me."
Joe stiffened just momentarily as Ianto soaped up a sponge and began to rub it gently up and down his arms. As Joe began to understand that it wasn't hurting, he started to relax and enjoy it. Ianto washed Joe's arms carefully before gently indicating the tattered top that Joe wore.
"How about we take this off, hmm?"
He reached out to lift the top from Joe's torso, only to stop when Joe cringed.
"It's okay," Ianto reassured him. "Really. Look..."
He patted his own bare chest, but to no avail. Joe clutched the wet material of his top to his body.
"All right," Ianto conceded. "Let's see, where did I...? Ah, there it is!"
He clambered out of the bath, trying to ignore the panicked noises Joe was making. Grabbing a pile of clean, new clothes from another chair, he brought them back for Joe to see.
"Look," Ianto told him. "These are for you. New clothes, just for you. Do you see?"
Ianto waited breathlessly, hoping fervently that Joe would make the connection. Joe stared first at the clothes Ianto held, and then at the tattered and worn tee-shirt that was currently plastered to his body. Seeing understanding slowly dawning in Joe's eyes, Ianto opened up the folded tee-shirt to show him. That was all it needed, and Joe began to try and peel off what he was wearing.
Smiling with relief, Ianto helped him take it off. He turned away for just a moment to dispose of the material when a tremendous splashing startled him into turning around. Joe had disappeared beneath the surface of the water, and only his arms were visible as he flailed.
Ianto plunged his hands into the water, found Joe and hauled him back to the surface.
The next few minutes were filled with coughing and spluttering as Ianto gently wiped the soap and water from his face with a clean cloth.
"What on earth were you trying to do?" Ianto murmured. "You nearly drowned yourself, you silly fool."
Joe rubbed at his eyes before looking up at Ianto in a slight daze. He then lifted a leg awkwardly out of the water, and would have slipped again had it not been for Ianto's steadying hands on his shoulders. Ianto laughed softly as realisation dawned.
"Pants, too? You were trying to take them off. Okay, then."
He had Joe stand briefly, just long enough to carefully remove the ragged sweatpants, leaving his charge naked in the bath. As Joe splashed contentedly, Ianto disposed of both tee-shirt and pants. Both items of clothing were not fit for wearing, not by any stretch of the imagination. He then settled down on the edge of the bath to wash Joe's back and shoulders, all the while frowning at Joe's visibly emaciated body. It was going to take time for there were any visible signs of improvement through the changed diet.
"I'm going to wash your hair now," Ianto told him as he ran his fingers through Joe's hair. It was thick with dirt and grime, leaving Ianto to wonder whether he'd had his hair washed in the whole time he'd been a prisoner of Torchwood.
In the end, he used nearly half a bottle of shampoo — not because Joe's hair was filthy enough to need it, but because every time he started to put the bottle away Joe pouted and patted his hair. If it hadn't been for the circumstances, Ianto would have found it amusing to see a grown man practically purring at the feeling of having his hair washed.
It was nearly an hour later, with the water rapidly going cold, that Ianto was finally able to get Joe out of the bath and dry them both off. Joe, Ianto noted with amused pleasure, was as excited about the new clothes as he had been about his new bed.
"Perfect," Ianto said approvingly as he looking Joe up and down. His selection had been simple enough, intended for comfort and warmth, rather than style. A plain blue tee-shirt and a fleecy-lined sweater, similarly lined sweatpants, woollen socks and slippers. The slippers didn't make for the most stylish look, Ianto conceded, but then Joe was hardly bothered by the fashion faux pas. He was comfortable and happy, and that was what mattered.
Allowing Joe to collect his blanket from where he'd discarded it before getting into the bath, Ianto then led him out of the bathroom. They'd barely gone ten feet when Spence rounded the corner with Gage Adams trailing behind him. The doctor's face creased with hatred and disgust at the sight of Joe, and in return Joe snarled at the doctor. Rage flashed across Spence's face, and he immediately began to reach for his holstered gun. Joe uttered a yelp of fear, and tried to hide behind Ianto.
The young man caught Joe's hand and squeezed it reassuringly, all the while glaring at Spence.
"Don't do it, Dr Spence. Don't even think about it."
A sneer spread across Spence's face, but he took his hand away from the gun.
"It's not worth the bullet. And I see you've gone and wasted more Institute funds?" he said, eyeing the new clothes Joe wore.
"Just the necessities, sir."
"Necessities my arse. There was nothing wrong with what it was wearing!"
"Oh, shut the fuck up, Dr Spence," Gage spoke up suddenly, startling both Ianto and Spence. "He's been wearing the same clothes for about three or four years now. They were falling apart, and they stank. Ianto was right to get him some new stuff. The Director gave him permission herself, so just bloody deal with it, would you?"
Spence scowled and, with a last threatening look at Joe and Ianto, stormed away down the corridor.
"Ignore him, Ianto," Gage said quietly once Spence was gone. "You've done good, mate."
"Thanks," Ianto murmured, slightly uncomfortable with the praise. "And thankyou for standing up to Spence."
Gage snorted derisively.
"Don't thank me. If I'd had any balls, I would've stood up to him years ago. Instead, I stood back and let him and the rest of them keep treating Joe like an object, and not a person."
"Well, thankyou anyway."
"Mm, yeah. Well, at least he's being properly looked after now."
Ianto nodded, grateful for the validation. Gage peered past him, to Joe, who was still huddling nervously behind Ianto.
"Hi, Joe."
A pair of pale blue eyes peered at him over Ianto's shoulder, and Gage smiled a little, and then dug into his jacket pocket.
"Here, Ianto. I was saving this for later, but I bet Joe would like it more."
Ianto's tentative smile widened just a little at the sight of the bar of chocolate that Gage had handed him. Thus far, he'd avoided providing Joe with any such treats, but today was as good a day as any to break that self-imposed rule.
"Thankyou, Gage," he murmured. Gage clapped him lightly on the shoulder.
"Don't thank me. It's one lousy bar of chocolate. Just keep looking after him, all right?"
Ianto nodded as Gage walked away.
"I will."
Back in the sanctity of the room, Ianto had Joe sit on his bed, and hold out his injured hand for re-bandaging. It was healing, but much slower than Ianto had anticipated. Consequently, it was still hurt him a lot. Joe, however, was not cooperating, and every time Ianto tried to start bandaging it, Joe pulled away with a whimper.
"I need you to hold it still," Ianto insisted with a hint of frustration when Joe pulled away from him for the fourth time. "Just for a few minutes, Joe, please!"
He was answered with an unhappy whimper, and large tears that rolled down Joe's face. Sighing, Ianto set the bandage aside, and held his hands out.
"Let me see it. I'm not going to hurt you, Joe. Just show me your hand."
Slowly, nervously, Joe held out his injured hand. Ianto took it in a feather-light grip, and murmured in sympathy as he observed the badly bruised flesh.
"Poor love. I'll get you some more painkillers shortly. Right now, though, I really need to be able to bandage this up." He paused, and before he had a chance to consider whether it was a bad idea, Ianto leaned down and brushed a soft kiss over Joe's knuckles. When he looked up again, he was amused to see the wide-eyed look that Joe was giving him. He smiled, and kissed the bruised flesh once more.
"There. Feel better?"
Ianto didn't honestly expect a reply, and couldn't conceal his surprise when Joe spoke softly, haltingly.
"Better."
Ianto stared at him with a delighted smile.
"That's good, Joe. Really good. Now, let me put a bandage on it, and then you can have a treat."
He wasn't sure exactly how much English Joe really comprehended, but it was clear that he'd come to associate the word treat with something good happening. The word had barely left his lips when Joe's face lit up. Ianto laughed softly.
"All right, then. But bandage first, treat second. Now hold out your hand."
Joe seemed to understand, for he made no further protests. Though it obviously hurt him, he sat still and allowed Ianto to bandage it. Once the task was done, Ianto kissed the injured hand again before pulling out the chocolate bar that Gage had given him. He unwrapped it and broke a piece off.
"Here, try this. Go ahead, you'll like it. I promise."
Joe nibbled tentatively at the piece of chocolate before the taste of it really registered in his expression. When it did, he stuffed the piece into his mouth and hummed in delight as he did so.
"Good, isn't it?" Ianto said with a laugh, and Joe grinned at him, his mouth full of melted chocolate. Ianto laughed harder still.
"Oh yeah. You like chocolate."
He waited for his charge finish off the first piece before allowing him a second piece. Ianto proceeded to feed him the entire chocolate bar that way, taking great satisfaction in Joe's enjoyment. It was, Ianto mused, just about the happiest he'd seen Joe since he'd started taking care of him.
"Thankyou, Gage," Ianto murmured, grateful for the consideration of his colleague. His musings were interrupted when Joe suddenly uttered a jaw-popping yawn. Ianto smiled at him affectionately as Joe crawled into bed and snuggled down beneath the covers. His eyes were already starting to slide shut from the exhaustion of the day's activities.
Reaching out, Ianto tenderly stroked Joe's newly-washed hair.
"Yes, you just shut your eyes and have a sleep. It's been a big day for you. Go to sleep, and I'll wake you up for dinner in a couple of hours."
He stayed crouching there, ignoring the cramping in his legs, until Joe was asleep. Only then did he finally leave. He headed straight for the kitchen, intent on preparing a decent meal for Joe. He was in the middle of preparing a selection of vegetables when a voice spoke scathingly behind him.
"Tell me something, Jones. How does it feel to go from Torchwood archivist to nanny and babysitter?"
Ianto barely suppressed a groan. He turned slowly to find himself facing Carl Branton, one of Spence's own personal protégés.
"More fulfilling than you could possibly imagine," Ianto replied flatly. Carl sneered at him.
"You fucking pansy, Jones."
"What do you want, Carl?" Ianto asked wearily. "I'm busy."
"I'm just wondering what a waste of space like you is getting out of taking care of the freak. Are you getting off on it? Is that it, Jones? Are you fucking it?"
Anger and disgust flooded Ianto's face.
"Get out of here, Carl. I don't have time for your sick rubbish. Go back to your hole in the wall. I'm sure Gemma's waiting for you. Or, is it Tristan today?"
The next instant, Ianto was sent reeling into the fridge when Branton punched him hard in the face. He was just recovering from the blow when Branton punched him again, and then delivered a knee to his gut, leaving him gasping painfully for air. He suspected that the assault would have continued, except someone dragged Branton away from him. Ianto groaned with relief when he looked up. It was Gage.
"Let me go!" Branton bellowed, but he was no match for Gage's greater strength.
"No can do, mate. Not until you calm down, and quit using Ianto for a punching bag."
"He deserves it. The little fucker called me a queer!"
"Yeah, well, you called him one first, so I suggest you quit now before someone decides to email the Section Seven footage from last Thursday evening all around the building."
Branton went white with an unpleasant combination of fear and rage.
"You son of a bitch..."
Gage glowered dangerously at him.
"Don't try me, Carl. I'm not in the mood, and I'll cheerfully take your damned head off. Just get out of here, now."
Branton went, seething.
"I'm probably going to regret that," Gage chuckled as he turned back to help Ianto. "Ah, well. You all right, Ianto?"
"Yes, thankyou," Ianto answered, and then grimaced as he gingerly touched a finger to his split lip. "Just a slight loss of dignity."
Gage chuckled.
"Oh, trust me, mate. Your dignity is intact. Carl's, on the other hand, has sustained a couple of heavy hits. Hold on a moment..."
Rummaging through the freezer, he produced a packet of mixed vegetables, and placed it over Ianto's rapidly swelling eye.
"That's Joe's dinner you're using as a cold compress," Ianto stated dryly. Gage chuckled again.
"I'm sure he'd understand. You know, most of us are in awe of you?"
Ianto couldn't help expressing scepticism.
"Yeah, right."
"I'm serious, mate. With the exception of Carl, Jon and Dr Spence, every one of us was of the same opinion as you when we started here, that what was being done to that poor bastard was unconscionable. But we were cowards, and we let Spence dictate to us. You're the only one who's had the balls to stand up to him, and to treat Joe the way he deserves to be treated."
"Like a human being?" Ianto queried, and Gage nodded, looking suitably embarrassed.
"Yeah, exactly. Frankly, it's no wonder none of us can get anywhere near him, and before you started here, we wouldn't have even considered giving him a bath like you did earlier. It wouldn't have been possible. He'd have ripped our throats out if we'd tried."
"He's really not as vicious as you think," Ianto said reprovingly. "He's just afraid of all of you, and you really haven't given him a reason not to be. Look, come with me when I take dinner in to him. You'll see what I mean."
Gage looked uncertain.
"Are you sure? It won't aggravate him, will it?"
A small smile graced Ianto's lips.
"You bring another bar of chocolate with you? You'll be the hit of the evening, I guarantee it."
tbc...