Cursed

Ianto turned back to his mother but was sat on the bed in such a way as to include his father in the conversation, which he now continued.  “That’s Jack.  I’ll introduce you in a moment, but first I have to catch you up.  The last time I was here was at Christmastime, before the Year.  I know it all gets very confusing, and I’m sorry I haven’t been able to visit since then, but a lot has happened.

“I told you during my last visit that I’d lost Lisa.  And I was confused because I’d started sort of seeing Jack, but things were kind of a mess.  And it got a bit worse, because right after Christmas, there was an awful to-do at work.  And then we thought Jack had died for good, but thankfully he hadn’t.  But then he ran off with the Doctor.  And then the Year that Never Was happened.

“I think the wizarding world calls it the Lost Year.  But they hid away, even though the Earth was dying.  Did you feel it?  Even with my magic bound, I could feel her screaming.”

Ianto did not see Bill, Susan, and Augusta look sharply at him.  He continued, “It was terrible, so I joined the muggles’ resistance.  I… I was caught, though, just before the end.  But the Doctor fixed it, and I woke up in the Himalayas, of all places, when the Year reset.

“I tried to visit after that, but they got better at detecting my perception filters, and I couldn’t get a stronger alien one from the secure archives without Jack noticing, and I couldn’t ask…” he sighed.  “I’m sorry for that.  But the good news is, my friends figured out that I had been cursed.  They broke all of the curses, and I’m not spellbound anymore, either.”

He drew in a deep breath before blowing it back out, again.  “It’s a relief, but I feel really tired.  And still a bit sick.  It was…  Well, it was a lot.  And now I’m afraid you’re stuck with a Welsh son,” he glanced at his grandmother, “and grandson, but they couldn’t reverse it.  But that’s okay, because I’m used to it, now.  I may even prefer it, actually.  I haven’t decided, yet.  But Jack seems to like it, so that’s good.

“Speaking of which,” he stood and held out his hand to Jack, who took it and released Augusta as he allowed Ianto to pull him over so they were standing together.  “Mam, Tad, this is Jack.  He’s my…” he stalled out, the vivid memory of the last time he’d tried to describe their relationship making him flinch as his hand convulsively gripped Jack’s hand. 

That hadn’t been the curse, either.  That had been all Jack.

“Ah…”

“Partner,” Jack supplied, giving Ianto a gentle smile that held understanding and apology.

Ianto beamed at him.  “And Jack, this is my mam, Alice Longbottom, and this is my tad, Frank.”

“We met a few times back during the First Wizarding War,” Jack said, addressing them both.  “I’m glad to see you again.”  And then, to Ianto’s surprise, Jack helped him sit back down before launching into a story, speaking to Frank and Alice as though they were both attending every word he said. 

It was a story about Ianto, something he had done at some point in the course of their adventures.  As the story concluded, he said quietly and sincerely, “I know you must be very proud of Ianto.  He is an extraordinary man, and I intend to do everything in my power to make him a happy one.”

“Jack,” Ianto looked down, a blush spreading along his cheekbones.

“All true,” Jack said, tucking a finger under Ianto’s chin and raising his face so he could give him a quick kiss.

“Thank you,” Ianto replied, still looking adorably shy. 

A few moments later, Ianto looked back to his mother and took her hand.  “I’ll come back to visit again as soon as I can, but I’m very tired, today.  I’m sorry I haven’t visited as much as I should have, but I’ll come more, now.  Promise.”

He leaned over and kissed his mother on the forehead and then crossed over to his father’s bed and gave him a kiss, as well.  “I’ll see you soon,” he asserted.

He straightened and very slowly began making his way back down the length of the ward.  Jack strode up beside him and offered him his elbow, and Ianto took it gratefully, leaning on it a bit more heavily than Jack had expected, but it had been a tiring visit, and it was one of the first times Ianto had spent any significant number of minutes out of his own bed.

They hadn’t gone very far when Augusta made a strange sound in the back of her throat.  They stopped and turned to see what she had reacted to and saw that Ianto’s mother had gotten out of her bed and was walking slowly towards them.  When she got to Ianto, she took his hand and placed something in it before turning and going back to her bed. 

Ianto looked at the item in his hand and a small smile graced his features.

“Oh, Merlin,” Augusta murmured.  “I haven’t seen her do that, since…”

“The last time we visited them together, I imagine,” Ianto replied, still smiling.  “But she’s always done it.  Every time.  Even after… everything.”

“What is it?” Jack asked, and Ianto showed him the brightly colored liquorice wand wrapper.  He considered what Augusta and Ianto had just said and asked, “Does she always give you the wrapper to the candy you bring your dad?”

Ianto smiled, pleased that Jack had noticed this.

“Ianto’s the only one she ever did that for.  He’d bring his father a sweet, and at the end of the visit, she’d hand the wrapper back to Ianto.”  She shook her head.  “I always told him to throw them away, but I doubt he ever did,” Augusta eyed her grandson fondly.

Ianto gave a sly, secretive smile but didn’t say anything.  He just very quietly pocketed the wrapper and took Jack’s arm to continue their way back up the ward.

Jack found the ritual to be quite poignant.  Because some part of Ianto’s mother seemed to understand who he was.  If he was the only one she’d ever given the wrappers to, and she gave him a wrapper every time he visited, he could see why Ianto would be hopeful that she recognized him, on some level.

“I used to scold him for not throwing them away,” Augusta continued, “but then I realized.  It’s the only thing she has to give, and it’s the only thing he’s ever received directly from either of them.”

“That’s…” Jack hesitated.  “That’s beautiful, actually,” he said.

Ianto gave him a grateful smile, glad Jack understood.

“Yes, it is,” she agreed, surprising Ianto.

Augusta walked them back to Ianto’s room.  She embraced him before kissing him on the cheek and telling him to get some rest.  He surprised her with a second hug and asking if she could visit in a few days’ time.

“I don’t think I’ll feel like visiting right away, if the dragon’s blood potion is ready tonight, but maybe in a day or two?”

“I’d like that,” she smiled, her eyes a bit misty.  “Just have Susan send me an owl.  But I will be here Wednesday, to visit your parents again.”

Ianto nodded, then headed into the room.

Jack was shuffling from one foot to the other, and Augusta raised an eyebrow.

Wow.

Jack wondered if Ianto had practiced that one in the mirror when he got his new face.  Turned out he’d had a superb example to follow… 

Jack blinked the thought away so he could pull it out later and laugh his arse off.  He smiled at Augusta and asked, “Can I give you a hug?”  He shrugged and said, “It’s been a long time since I had a grandmother.”

“Yes, and you’re probably old enough to be my grandfather, but no matter.  Come here.”  She reached her arms up and embraced Jack.

Jack gave out a hearty laugh and lifted her off her feet before setting her back down, again. 

“Captain Harkness,” she seethed, swatting harmlessly at him.  “I will let you have that one, because you are a muggle, and because you do not know me.  But I warn you now.  If you ever do that again, I will jinx you!”

She scolded for a few moments, but Jack’s laughing affection meant she could not keep a straight face, after the initial round of threats.  As she turned to leave, he placed a gentle hand on her forearm.

“Thank you,” he smiled.

“What did I do?” she asked, confused, and Jack saw Ianto’s humility in that confusion.

“You showed up.  You owned your mistakes.  You apologized instead of arguing and making excuses.  You called him Ianto.  You may have noticed how he’s similar to Neville, but you didn’t actively look for it.  And you seemed pleased at the bits that are all Ianto, which lets him know you want him as a grandson, not the memory of a man he cannot be.  You did rather a lot, actually,” he grinned.

She blinked several times and said, “Thank you.  And Captain?  Thank you for watching over him.”

“That’s easy,” he grinned.  “He is pretty cute.”

“Oh,” she smiled, “Careful, there.  He does not like the word, ‘cute’.”

“No,” Jack grinned again.  “He doesn’t.”

She left feeling a bit more confident that perhaps she could navigate this, after all.

***

When Jack stepped into the room, he watched Ianto carefully place the candy wrapper into the potion tin and set the tin in the top drawer of the bedside table.  He then began slowly undressing, and Jack was struck by the vivid memory of the first time he’d gone snooping through Ianto’s flat. 

He’d left Ianto in bed, shagged out thoroughly enough that he figured he’d had a good half hour before the younger man came looking for him.  (Jack would have thought he was slipping, but he quickly realized that Ianto’s stamina was truly, unexpectedly, astonishingly, exhaustingly, exceptional.)

During his reconnoiter, he had discovered several things about Ianto.  First, he was orderly, but he still had areas of mess.  He was not, as Owen accused, a robot.  He was a human being who preferred organization and order, but when there weren’t enough hours in the day to maintain it, areas of inevitable mess were allowed.  Clean laundry yet to be folded and put away was sitting in a spare laundry basket on top of the table next to the washer and dryer.  Clean dishes in the dishwasher yet to be put away.  Books pulled from shelves for reference but not yet put back.  Unopened mail in a basket on the desk in the spare room. 

Jack had tried not to laugh at the thought that even Ianto’s messes were organized.  He didn’t want to mock the younger man, because he knew that sometimes being meticulous is a choice, and sometimes it is a coping mechanism.

The second thing he noticed during his snoop was that Ianto was not as formal or straight-laced as people assumed.  His place was neat, but also comfortable and casual.  And pretty mature.  Jack had to admit, things like this made it far too easy to forget how young Ianto was.

And reserved is not the same thing as inhibited.  No, wait.  That wasn’t something he’d learned from Ianto’s flat.  It was something he’d learned in Ianto’s flat…

He’d shaken his head and realized a third thing.  Well, fourth if you counted that peculiar non sequitur.  Ianto didn’t really have very much, for a young professional in the early 21^st century.  That lot seemed to have an abundance of stuff.  Sure, there were a lot of books, and a fair-sized collection of DVD’s and CD’s, and his bespoke suits… Jack conceded that it was probably a tradeoff.  Ianto had chosen where to splurge, and where he didn’t need excess.

But that discovery only made the antique, intricately carved casket on his desk in the spare room stand out, all the more.  It belonged there, but it was also completely out of place, and it begged for further snooping. 

So naturally, he had snooped further.

***