Love at First Glance
Chapter Four
(A/N: This is based on the Hallmark Channel original film of the same name. I have added a few of my own scenes, events and dialogue, and I've omitted a few scenes that weren't really necessary to tell the story.)
"He never left Gareth's side; for the first eight months he was there day and night, but the Gareth he knew was no longer there." There was a lot of sadness in Matthew's voice.
"Come on, Gareth," Jack clutched his lover's hand tightly and looked up at his face, so emotionless in his endless sleep. "Tell me you like Easter best of all."
There was no response, just as there had been no response from the moment the accident had happened.
"What?" Jack moved closer to Gareth's head, as if proximity would make him answer. "I can't hear you. Come on, tell me you like Easter best of all!"
Jack's shoulders slumped when his words fell on deaf ears and he buried his face in Gareth's chest, sobbing to himself and whispering the words over and over again. "Tell me you like Easter best of all."
Matthew led Ianto to a bench in the park and they sat under a huge oak tree. "After a while, Gareth came out of his coma and then he slowly started to walk again, but the damage was done. The doctors said that the traumatic brain injury he'd suffered caused retrograde amnesia. "
Ianto frowned. "Wasn't he wearing a helmet?"
"Oh yeah, definitely; if it weren't for that helmet he'd have died, but the brain is a funny thing. One man can have a nail driven all the way into his head from a pneumatic nail gun and be absolutely fine, someone else gets just a simple bump on the head from an errant ball tossed by his kid and he's a vegetable until the day he dies. There is no rhyme or reason. At least Gareth survived."
There was nothing Ianto could say to that.
"Gareth remembered nothing about his life before the accident. As a photographer, Jack had thousands of photographs of them from childhood until literally that morning; he'd taken several pictures of him and them together just before they'd set out on their bike ride.
"I was his nurse there at the rehab centre and we worked hard to get some of his memory back; we'd go through dozens and dozens of photos every day but seeing actual proof of those past memories only seemed to agitate him. He'd look through the pictures of him and Jack and then look at Jack like he'd done something wrong, like he was playing some mean trick. Jack was a complete stranger to him, and after a while, Gareth told Jack he didn't need to visit any more, and he dropped the box of photos he'd been looking through to the floor, sending the contents scattering across the floor."
"That must have been devastating for Jack." Ianto again felt the need to wrap Jack in a tight hug, to comfort him even though he was nearly five hundred miles working away in France.
Jack forced himself to stay away for a few weeks, but on the day Gareth was released, he showed up with a big bunch of colourful balloons; they always gave each other balloons to celebrate non-holiday events, especially the little things that filled their lives with such joy, or just to say hi and I love you. As he rushed to the front door of the rehab centre, a breeze stirred up and his balloons bounced all around, nearly hitting a woman leaving the facility.
"Sorry!" he exclaimed as he reeled in the lengths of ribbon attached to the balloons.
She laughed, "Don't worry about it!"
Once inside and away from the breeze, Jack released the ribbons again, so the balloons floated over his head. He lucked out and got a lift car all to himself so he didn't have to worry about who his balloons might bounce into next. When the doors pinged open on Gareth's floor, Jack hurried towards his boyfriend's room, eager to welcome him back to the world.
Gareth was dressed in a sweater of soft blue, with dark blue trousers and brown shoes; a carry-all holding the possessions he'd acquired during his long stay lay next to him the bed. Matthew sat beside him, going over a release check-out form, making notes and relaying information to Gareth about on-going aftercare.
"So, what's the first thing you're going to do when you get out of here?" he asked.
Gareth grinned from ear to ear. "Go to the cinema!"
"Really? The cinema?"
"Yes," Gareth confirmed. "You promised me when I took my first steps that you'd take me to see a film when I got out."
"Aww… that I did," Matthew grinned back.
"Well, I'm going to hold you to that." Gareth sat back on the bed, confident that it was done deal.
"That's really the first thing you want to do?"
The door to Gareth's room was partially open when Jack – his heart full of hope – arrived just in time to hear Gareth say,
"A scary film, yes."
Matthew chuckled. "I don't know if I can handle that."
Jack peered in through the narrow opening.
"Don't worry," Gareth said, "I'll hold your hand," and Jack saw him reach out and take Matthew's hand in his.
That and the look on Ianto's face was like a knife through Jack's heart and he drew in a sharp breath.
That sound was small, but it caught Matthew's attention and he looked up to see Jack standing there, his eyes filled with pain, and a devastated look on his face. Matthew's smile fell but Gareth didn't notice.
"Come on, Matthew, I promise we'll have fun."
Jack didn't wait around to hear what Matthew's response was. Walking without paying any attention to where he was going, Jack found himself outside again; his heart felt like it was in a vice, small, insignificant, broken. He looked around, not really seeing his surroundings and then the breeze came up again, sending his balloons bouncing around and he looked at them, studying them, only to find that the joy they'd always held for him was gone. He fingered their ribbons for a few moments, and then he opened his hand and let them go, watching as the breeze carried them up into the sky and within seconds they were lost in the glare of the sun.
"On that day, he let Gareth go." Matthew sighed. "He loved him that much, he just… let him go."
Ianto and Matthew were nearing the end of their walk through the park, approaching the entrance that was nearest to Matthew's home.
"On that day his heart shattered into a million pieces. He was fragile for a long time after, but I like to think that Jack is the man he is today because of that broken heart. He never sits still, he's always looking around the corner for that next big adventure."
"Running from the pain?" Ianto asked.
Matthew shrugged. "Maybe."
"Has there been anyone else for Jack since Gareth?"
"No," Matthew shook his head. "For a long time, I just don't think he was ready. But lately I've noticed something's changing him."
"Yeah?"
"Call me an old-fashioned optimist, but I like think a broken heart can be healed," Matthew spoke earnestly. "And that a healed heart can love deeper and more fully than ever before."
Ianto walked along, silently considering those words, wondering if they could be true and then he realised that Matthew had stopped walking.
"I want to show you something," he pulled his mobile from his pocket, opened the photo gallery and scrolled through its contents. "Here are some photos Jack took recently in Paris."
Ianto saw pictures of couples, holding hands, kissing, sharing a coffee, and then came the pictures of hearts, one formed in broken pavement and filled with water, a heart-shaped cloud in a clear blue sky, even a heart someone had carved in a tree trunk.
"Maybe it's just me, but this looks like somebody who's ready to love again," Matthew declared with a hint of excitement in his voice. He tucked his phone back into his pocket as they left the park and crossed the street. "Come on, I want you to meet Gareth and our son."
As they walked up to lovely bungalow with a large front garden, a little boy of seven or eight dropped the rugby ball he'd been kicking around and ran towards them. "Tad!" he called out as he jumped into Matthew's waiting arms.
Ianto grinned at the boy but his attention was caught by a dark-haired man stepping off the porch and walking towards them and his smile faded.
Matthew put his son down and walked across the lawn, meeting the man halfway. "How's the Rugby going?" he asked as he hugged the man and kissed him.
"Great!" Gareth enthused. "He's doing really well."
"Let's see what you've been learning." Matthew pushed the ball over to his son and as they began to play, Gareth looked up at Ianto to find him looking back.
Something indiscernible but tangible passed between the two men at that moment, something akin to the passing of a torch, releasing Jack from one heart to another, from someone who no longer remembered him to someone who couldn't wait to meet him.
While Matthew and his son kicked the ball back and forth between them, Gareth and Ianto were inside, and as Gareth sat down, he apologised. "I guess I haven't been much help with your story."
Ianto shrugged, "We have a saying with writers that what you leave out is just as important as what you leave in."
"But in my case I didn't choose what to leave out," Gareth said, "it was just taken from me." A look of pain flashed through his blue eyes. He got up and came over to sit next to Ianto on the sofa. "People tell me that Jack and I were close once, and I suppose it's true."
Ianto said nothing, knowing Gareth had something very important to say.
"Sometimes late at night," the man studied his hands as if they held the secrets to the universe and he suddenly looked up at Ianto, his eyes blazing. "Or sometimes early in the morning, I get this…" he closed his eyes as though trying to picture what he was saying. "I get this sense… this sense of something…" His eyes opened again and he leaned forward a little, as though he really wanted Ianto hear what he was going to say.
"I get this one brief memory of a Valentine's Day with Jack," and there was such a tender look on Gareth's face that Ianto drew in a tiny breath and held it, waiting to hear what came next.
"I woke up really early that morning, Jack had made me pancakes and coffee, and there on the mantel in front of the table was a homemade valentine with lots and lots of red glitter all over it. And written on it were the words, 'I will always love you, forever and ever'. And I remember I really liked it because it just felt so special, so important." He looked up to see tears in Ianto's eyes.
"But then I don't remember anything else." There was so much sadness in Gareth's voice that Ianto couldn't find the words to comfort him in any way.
"I just don't remember."
It was Monday afternoon and Ianto was seated at his desk in the offices of his part-time job at the South Wales Echo, a daily tabloid newspaper founded in 1884 and still being published in Cardiff. He'd spent most of the weekend working on his story about finding out who Jack Harkness was and he'd given it to his friend and Echo Editor-in-Chief to read, wanting the man's opinion.
Finally, Huw came out of his office, shaking his head.
"It's just a sample of how it's going," Ianto said nervously. "Obviously, I have a long way to go but I think it captures the essence of…"
Huw held up is hand for him to stop talking…
Which he did for a moment and then, "…the meaning of love." He couldn't stop himself from finishing his sentence.
Setting the papers down on Ianto's desk, Huw tapped it as he declared, "I feel your heart isn't in this one."
Quite taken aback by his mentor's words, Ianto protested, "That's not true!"
"Ianto," Huw gave him 'that look', "remember when Natalie in accounting cried over your story about the beauty contestant with the broken leg? Everybody liked that one."
"Her talent was tap-dancing; it wrote itself!"
Huw sighed and leaned over Ianto's desk. "What we need to find here is a little heart. Ask yourself this: what is it about love that unlocks the mysteries of the human heart?" The old man straightened back up and motioned for Ianto to follow him into his office.
"Let me tell you a story," he tossed over his shoulder, "a story about love." He sat down behind his desk. "Please, take a seat."
Ianto did as asked, finding himself sitting right in front of a plate of red-and-white frosted cookies and he watched as Huw picked one up, bit into it and made a terrible grimace before returning the offending cookie to the plate.
"Once, long ago, when I was about your age, I had two girlfriends." Huw smiled as Ianto's eyes widened with disbelief. "Yes, it's true! One you know, my lovely wife Anna," he looked at the framed photograph of him and Anna on their wedding day, standing on the steps of the church in all their wedding finery, surrounded by their wedding party. "But there was this terrific girl named Gwyneth, and on one Valentine's Day, Gwyneth came over and gave me a gift. It was a very expensive cashmere sweater and she wanted me to wear it to her parent's house that night."
Ianto's eyes twinkled as he listened to Huw's story. He'd seen the photo many times and knew just what a dapper young man Huw had been back in the day; it was easy to see how he could juggle two girlfriends.
Huw was shaking his head. "I knew I could never wear that sweater," and he turned his eyes back to the framed picture.
"Why? You didn't like it?" Ianto teased.
"No! It was a lovely sweater! But, it wasn't really for me, you see; it was for Gwyneth, to make her feel better about herself."
Ianto nodded in understanding.
"And later that same day," Huw reached out and gently touched the photo that had graced every desk he'd ever worked at. "My beautiful Anna came over with a plate of homemade cookies just like these," and he brushed his fingers across the rim of the plate in front of him. "And it was at that moment that I really understood the true meaning of love. Here was a girl who put so much care and love into what she did for me, that I could finally understand this simple truth.
"At the end of the day, what gives our lives meaning, is how we are loved."
Drawing in a deep breath, Ianto realised the depth and truth of Huw's words, feeling them write themselves across his heart.
"You need to tell your story, Ianto, tell a story about how someone or something changed your life, how it made you reject that cashmere sweater."
Ianto smiled at him, his story already forming in his head and as he started to stand up, Huw pushed the plate of cookies towards him.
"Here," he offered, "help yourself."
"Thank you," and Ianto did indeed help himself to a red-and-white heart, taking a big bite out of the delicious looking cookie. Then the flavour of the homemade treat hit his taste buds and his eyes widened again, but this time with horror as he couldn't decide whether to politely swallow the cookie half-chewed or save himself a belly-ache and spit it into the bin. "Oh wow!" he managed to choke out and he looked up to see Huw laughing merrily.
"Amazing!" With a mighty swallow, Ianto blurted out, "You married her after eating these cookies?!"
"Oh, I know she can't cook a lick, but boy, she loves me like no other." He turned eyes on Ianto that were just as full of love after nearly fifty years of marriage as they were the day he'd proposed to her.
It was early in the evening as Ianto strode up to the front door of his building and slid his keycard through the slot, releasing the lock on the entry door. He had a thoughtful smile on his face as he headed for the lift and pushed the button. Huw's story had been on his mind for several days now and he was wondering if he would ever find that kind of love, maybe with Jack or with someone else he didn't know, but the idea of spending the rest of his life with the guy who made awful cookies or who left his socks on the bedroom floor intrigued him. The doors opened and he stepped inside pressing the button for his floor, and just as the doors were shut a hand thrust its way between them, halting the doors and reopening them.
"Hey, Ianto," Daffyd said as he pulled a skinny man with bleach-blonde hair and sharp cheekbones into the car behind him, and then he reached in front of Ianto to press the button for his own floor. "Umm… ex…"
"Yup." Ianto didn't really look at either of the other two men as they giggled and held onto each other; instead he reached out and surreptitiously pushed the rest of the buttons, and when the doors opened for the first stop he stepped out briskly.
"Oh, hey, Ianto!" Daffyd pulled himself away from his date and called out, "This isn't your floor!"
Ianto ignored him as he walked off down the hall, head held high, knowing that even though he was now going to have to take the stairs to his top-floor flat in the eight-storey building, Daffyd and the barfly he'd pulled would have a very annoying trip with five more stops before they got off.
Entering his home, Ianto kicked off his shoes and set them neatly by the entryway, then put his keys, wallet and mobile in the bowl on the counter. He knelt down and welcomed Boyfriend's sloppy kisses with open arms and then went into his bedroom, followed ever-so-faithfully by Boyfriend, his toenails clicking softly on the hardwood flooring. Ianto crossed over to the bulletin board hung over his desk and looked at it with a critical eye.
"What do you think, Boy," he asked. "I don't think I need any of these anymore," and he began pulling pushpins from the board, dropping the photos, notes and trinkets that Daffyd had given him over the five years they'd been together into the bin. "It is time to move on." Satisfied with his work, Ianto turned to the dog. "Clearly, you're my only boyfriend."
Boyfriend leaned his head backwards over the edge of his doggie bed and looked at his master upside down, then rolled his eyes and tucked his nose under one paw. Life was just so much easier when all you had to do was sniff some other dog's butt.