Ianto helped Tosh with the shopping, directing her where to put everything while he powered up the coffee machine he had in the corner.
Slowly he went through the motions of making coffee; he opened the bag of beans that Tosh had got, noting how they were his favourite brand and absently wondering if she knew or it was just luck. He opened the cupboard above the coffee machine and reached for the antique burr hand crank grinder he had purchased with his first Torchwood pay check, back when everything was right. Checking it was clean, and clearing his mind of everything, Ianto adjusted the settings before adding the beans to the opening on the top, turning the crank clockwise slowly and savouring the smell of the beans. After the all the coffee fell into the drawer below, he pulled it away and placed it on the side.
Tosh had finished packing away the items she had got and watched Ianto from a distance. She knew not to disturb him making coffee; Owen had made that mistake and was put on decaf for days. Making coffee was Ianto's solace, they had discovered after; the motions were simple, routine and important to him. So, she stood back and watched. She watched as he poured distilled bottle water into the machine (knowing it was used because there was no minerals in it, making the best coffee), and then adding the ground coffee and making sure the carafe was securely fixed before switching the machine on. Tosh watched all this and felt her heart break. He was working methodically and, in all honestly, gracefully but she knew that beneath all that he was hurting, and she didn't know how to fix it.
As the water heated to the right temperature, Ianto reached for two mugs (the perfect size for a decent cup of coffee) and placed them on the side. He added cream and sugar to Tosh's tastes and his own, before turning back to the machine and watching the coffee fall into the carafe slowly. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, letting the smell and noise of the machine fill his senses. He loved this; making coffee was his escapism, something that didn't require thinking about. He let his fingers trail over the machine, remembering the first time he made his own coffee. Admittedly it was a skill that he had learnt and nurtured, that first cup was terrible – all bitter and coarse. Now though, now he had the process down to a T and prided himself on it. It was the one thing he knew he'd always be able to do, the one thing he knew he could be proud of because, after all, his life had not been worthy of any pride.
Once the mugs were filled, Tosh walked up to Ianto and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"You don't have to hide away any more, you know that?" she asked tentatively.
"Don't I? I can't hold all this inside – all this torment and regret and guilt – it's too much. But can I really tell people? Risk loosing people, being confronted with my failures? I've always hid. I can't rely on myself, I know that, but I can't rely on others either. Not in this godforsaken world."
Tosh nodded slightly, barely moving her head. Yet it was enough for Ianto know know she understood.
They both picked up their coffee mugs and walked through to the living room, sitting on each end of the sofa in silence.
By the time Tosh had finished her coffee, Ianto was leaning against the arm of the furniture, the mug slipping precariously from his hands. She placed her own mug on the coaster on the table, took Ianto's gently, and pulled his legs up on the sofa. He curled in on himself instantly; his hands clasped against his chest and his knees almost under his chin. She smiled gently as she watched him sleep. He was too young for all this. Too innocent. Then she thought again, maybe he wasn't? After all, what did she actually know about the boy – no, the man in front of her. She leant down and placed a kiss to his forehead without a thought, pulled back and walked to the table by the front door. Scanning around for a pen on it's surface, she opened the note pad left by the phone and scrawled a message.
I hide too.
I stole an official secret from the MoD, made a sonic modulator and nearly killed my own mother because some woman held her hostage. I was trying to save her life. I didn't know what that woman wanted the device for, I just wanted my mother safe. I knew that it was dangerous, and that it would probably be used as a torture device or something worse, but I just wanted my mother back. By the time my mother was bleeding UNIT stormed in. For 7 months, 26 days and eleven hours I was held in a UNIT facility – no contact with anyone. That was until Jack. Torchwood.
I was given a second chance –
You have one now.
I don't hate you, I can't.
ToshikioSato