Cursed

“What have you done?” Hermione asked.  When Ianto didn’t answer her, she took his arm and turned him to face her.  “Tell me!”

“Do you have any idea what it’s like to have your lover hit you, because you’ve forgotten to wait for him to kiss you first?” he asked, his voice quiet and broken.

Jack made a choking sound and Tosh covered her mouth to muffle her tears.  Even Owen looked sorry.  Gwen merely looked curious.

“I’m so sorry,” Hermione turned sympathetic eyes to Jack. 

Ianto sniffed.  “I know it was the curse.  I know he’d never…  I’d never have stayed, if it was anything other than the curse.”  He let out a sob. “But it’s harder to believe that, with the words.”

“Ianto, you have to know,” Jack pleaded, but the humiliated slump of the younger man’s shoulders told him that Ianto didn’t know.  Jack could see that Ianto believed the ugly words.  And the potions…  “What has he taken?” he asked.

“Six potions that are, by themselves, harmless enough.  But mixed,” she sighed.  “How long ago did he take it?”

“Twenty-four minutes ago,” Tosh answered, looking at the time stamp on the CCTV footage as Ianto swallowed the contents of the tumbler of scotch.

“His magic wasn’t unspooling,” Ron said.  “It was protesting.”  He began searching through the pockets of his robes.

“Ianto, let us help you,” Hermione pleaded.

“It’s too late,” he muttered.  “You’ll be able to count the curses, once I’m dead,” he said, his voice far too resigned and matter-of-fact.  He reached into his pocket and drew out a small notebook.  “Maybe you can learn from them.  Here’s what I have been able to determine.”  A cut opened along the back of his hand as he handed the notebook over.

Owen hissed and stepped forward, applying more of the foam.

“Owen, stop,” Ianto said, his voice gentle.  “It doesn’t matter, all right?”  He turned to Jack.  “I think under the circumstances, they’ll need my body.  To learn about the curses, so they can help others.  Is it all right to forego the standard Torchwood interment?”

“Ianto,” Jack stepped forward, relieved when Ianto didn’t move away from him, again.  He reached out, but hesitated.  “May I?”

Ianto’s eyes widened in surprise, but he gave a nod, and Jack wrapped his arms around him and pulled him into an embrace.  Ianto relaxed against Jack’s body, closing his eyes as the immortal’s warmth and scent enveloped him.

Jack saw Ron pull something resembling a small stone from his pocket with a flourish, his expression triumphant.  Hermione looked relieved, and Harry grinned at him.  They all turned towards Ianto, and Jack wasn’t sure he liked the determined set to their faces.

Without warning, Hermione sent a stunning spell that had Ianto crumpling in Jack’s arms.  In the next moment, Harry was prying Ianto’s mouth open, and Ron was stuffing the stone down Ianto’s throat.

“What the fuck!” Owen shouted.

“Bezoar,” Ron said proudly.  “I always have one on me.”  At the blank looks, he added, “It neutralizes poisons.”

Hermione was paging through Ianto’s notes.  “It looks like he tried a lot of things, himself, but he hadn’t learned enough about curse-breaking before they took him, and he couldn’t ask anyone for the resources he would have needed.”  She looked to Ron.  “Can Bill help us?”

“Should do,” Ron shrugged.  “He’s spent a lot of time the past few years, undoing the fuckery the death eaters we haven’t caught yet have got up to.”  He looked from Harry to Hermione.  “I’ll go get him and meet you at St. Mungo’s.”

Ianto groaned, beginning to come around from the stunning spell.  Jack looked at the witch and wizard who remained, after Ron disapparated. 

“I’m coming with you,” he said, his voice hard.  He had gathered Ianto in his arms, and it was clear that there would be a fight if they tried to leave without him.

“That’s up to Ianto,” Hermione said, her voice quiet but strong.  “We will honor his wishes.”

Ianto opened his eyes and looked at Jack.  Jack reached down and stroked the younger man’s cheek.  “They’re going to take you to the wizarding hospital, and I’d like to come with you.  Would that be okay?”

Ianto frowned, looking confused.  The poison had him tired and unfocused, even as the bezoar began to counteract its effects.  “Why?” he asked.

“Because I meant what I said, about not trading my time here, for anything.  You kissed me because you took my meaning as I’d hoped.  I was talking about you, Ianto.  Please,” he cupped Ianto’s cheek, “Please don’t let this curse make you think I don’t care.”

Ianto’s eyes drooped.  “m’kay,” he muttered before slumping into Jack’s arms, unconscious.

“We need to get him to St. Mungo’s,” Hermione said, wrapping her arms around Ianto and grabbing Jack’s upper arms.  Without another word, she disapparated with them.

“Wait!  Jack can’t just leave!” Gwen protested.

Toshiko looked at Harry.  “Tell him not to worry about us.  The rift predictor is showing nothing for the coming week.”  Harry nodded and disapparated.

“That true?” Owen asked.

“Guess we’ll find out,” Tosh winked at him, and he laughed.

“I don’t see what’s so funny.  Jack can’t just up and leave us again,” Gwen all but stamped her foot.

“Actually, he can,” Tosh replied calmly.  “He needs to see to Ianto.  We can hold the fort for a few weeks.”

“Weeks?” Gwen’s tone was turning shrill.  “What do you mean, weeks?”

“I know you don’t know much about the magical world, but surely you could see how hardcore those curses were,” Toshiko said. 

“It’s going to take some time to fix, and he’s going to need Jack’s support,” Owen added.  He felt sick at the damage the curses had done.

“Support?” she sneered, her tone mocking.  “Since when do you care about the teaboy’s support?”

“Did you not see what was happening to him?” Owen asked, exasperated.  “His skin was being flayed open, just at the mention of his original name!”

“Where is that vaunted humanity of yours, Gwen?” Tosh crossed her arms over her chest, giving Gwen a hard, unfriendly look.  “I’d think since you’re the one who claims to be so human, you’d have a bit more compassion.”

Gwen looked from Owen to Toshiko, and knew she needed to back down.  She bit her tongue to keep from arguing further.

Owen looked around the office.  “Let’s get this cleaned up,” he said, going for gloves and cleaner to scrub Ianto’s blood from the floor.

***

Once they reached St. Mungo’s, Jack refused to leave Ianto’s side.  At one point, the discussion threatened to turn heated, and Jack practically dared them to try to jinx him, knowing that owing to his… situation, he could absorb a hell of a lot from most spells before they had the desired effect. 

An exasperated Hermione managed to smooth things over quickly, and the Healers got on with their work.  Jack did not interfere with them, so they soon accepted his presence with good grace, and his attention to his lover did much to sooth Hermione’s annoyance. 

Jack watched Ianto’s face closely, noting the bruises that he didn’t remember giving him, and once again he felt a sick sort of panic slither through him, knowing he had hurt his lover so profoundly and wondering how they would make their way back from something that had caused Ianto to give up all hope.

It was with a sad sense of irony that in this moment of despair, Jack had never felt more loved.  Ianto would never have tolerated direct, intentional abuse.  And yet he had endured the cruel words and physical violence, trusting that Jack would not say or do those things, if not for the curse.

It was clear from the CCTV and from Ianto’s injuries – both this time and the other two – that Jack had not held back.  He was a strong man, capable of really hurting someone.  It spoke to Ianto’s fighting skill that he had been able to take the punches with minimal damage.  And it killed Jack to realize that Ianto couldn’t have fought back, or the violence would have just escalated.  Jack knew with a sick certainty that if Ianto had retaliated or tried to defend himself, Jack would have killed him.

It spoke to Ianto’s regard for Jack that not only had he stayed, but he had never given any indication that he held Jack’s words or actions against him.  Ianto knew it was the curse that caused Jack’s behavior, but knowing that wasn’t the same as not being hurt, angry, or resentful.  Ianto had every right to feel that way, but Jack had never felt that from him.

But Ianto had given up, and that broke Jack’s heart, because he knew that his actions had pushed the younger man past his endurance.  Ianto had persevered for so long, been isolated from his friends and family… Jack knew something of that, and now he realized why Ianto had always felt like such a kindred spirit.

Jack stood by the table the Healers had put Ianto on.  His left hand was combing through Ianto’s hair, and his right hand held Ianto’s to his chest while the Healers treated his injuries and stabilized him as they cleared the potions from his system. 

As he listened to the Healers speak about the frighteningly ingenious potion, Jack wondered how long Ianto had been carrying around his escape plan.  Had he somehow known that at some point it would just get to be too much?  Or did having it there in his pocket provide a form of relief, knowing he controlled that much of his own fate?  No matter the reason, Ianto hadn’t planned for his magic’s reaction to the poison. 

As Jack understood it, when a wizard was spellbound, his magic was locked away from him.  It was a painful punishment, not only because of the deprivation, but because the curse or spell kept the wizard in a constant state of tension due to the continuous, ongoing, forcible separation of a soul from its magic.  In those moments after Ianto had taken the poison, his magic briefly overruled the binding.

Jack couldn’t imagine the pain Ianto had been enduring.  The physical pain associated with the forced alterations to his appearance, coupled with the deprivation of his magic seemed bad enough.  Actually, in that light, Jack completely understood the portable escape plan in Ianto’s pocket.  But added to that the other curses, the uncertainty of not knowing what might make a loved one attack, the pain and anguish when they did…

He listened to the Healers working on Ianto, and while he understood little of what they were discussing, he comprehended enough to know that the poison was no longer a danger.  Ianto would have to deal with some side effects, but Jack imagined the suicidal tendencies might be a bigger challenge than a bit of residual fatigue.

***