Cursed

Still lost in memory, Jack quickly stripped down to his pants and climbed into bed with Ianto, who was already at the snuffling stage of falling asleep.  He wrapped his arms around his beloved, who quickly settled into a deep, dreamless sleep, exhausted from the emotions of the day.  Jack felt himself slide more deeply into the memory as he held Ianto close and watched him sleep.

The beautiful carved casket, the only antique in a nicely decorated but entirely utilitarian flat.  Sitting there, on the attractive, sturdy, useful desk.  In the entirely sensible second room that could fill double duty between office and guest room.  In the neat, tidy, practical flat where even the mess was organized….

No way in hell he wasn’t looking inside that damned box...

And so he did.  And he found what had to be hundreds of sweets wrappers.  They weren’t the kind that were currently popular, but there was something vaguely familiar about them.  Jack didn’t really eat sweets – well, he favored baked goods to candies – so he didn’t realize that he recognized the wrappers from the wizarding world.  He merely shrugged, thinking it was perhaps one of those nostalgia campaigns, where products were packaged as they had been in the mid-20^th century.

“Jack?”

Jack had jumped, surprised that Ianto had found him.  He shouldn’t have been.  After all, he wasn’t a very good snoop.  He turned to see Ianto leaning against the doorway, as un-self-consciously nude as Jack was.

“Find anything interesting?” Ianto asked, his voice neutral.  “I did promise I wasn’t hiding anything else.”

“I know, it wasn’t that.  I,” Jack shrugged and grinned at him unrepentantly.  “I was curious, that’s all.  Why do you have an antique casket full of candy wrappers?”

“Oh, that’s nothing,” Ianto said with an air that was almost too casual.  Jack was about to challenge him when he added, “Just something my parents and I have always done.”

That had brought Jack up short.  He didn’t know anything about Ianto’s parents, and it was disconcerting.  Toshiko hadn’t been able to find anything, and Ianto rarely mentioned them.  Jack had the impression they were still alive, but that didn’t always tally with how Ianto seemed to miss them.  And they hadn’t really got to a place yet where Jack felt like he could ask.  So he’d let the conversation drop, finding more interesting things to… discuss, with the naked Welshman standing before him.

Now, as Jack held his lover and thought back over the events of the day, he understood.  It was what Ianto’s grandmother had said.  Those wrappers were precious to Ianto, because they were the only things his parents had ever given him.  And it was a sort of proof (if Ianto let himself believe it) that his mother recognized him. 

Of course he had a special place to keep those wrappers.

“So now you know,” Ianto murmured into Jack’s chest.  He looked down, surprised that Ianto was awake.  But then he glanced at his watch and realized that he had been woolgathering for a good half hour or more.

“Is that okay?” Jack asked, and Ianto shrugged.

“I never said anything, because I didn’t want people to tell me it was stupid to hope that she might know who I am.”

“It’s not stupid.”

“The Healers say it’s impossible.”

“And yet there is still a hell of a lot humans – even the wizarding world – don’t yet know about the human mind,” Jack replied.  “Or the human heart, for that matter.”

Ianto kissed Jack’s collarbone.  “Thank you,” he breathed.

“There were five people in that ward that she could have handed that wrapper to,” Jack pointed out.  “But she gave it to you.  I think it’s okay to decide that means something.”  He hugged Ianto close and kissed his temple.  “I think it’s okay to want that comfort.”

“I…  I wish…” Ianto sniffed, then let out a curse as he began to weep again.

“I know, Love.  I know,” Jack held him as he wept, whispering to him the things he most needed to hear.  That it was unfair.  That he deserved to know and be known by his parents.  That it was okay to assume his parents loved him, because of course they did.

Ianto cried himself to sleep and slumbered until well past eight o’clock that evening, when Susan brought in a tray for the two of them, followed by Bill and Freesia Turnbull, the young Healer who had helped so much, that day the darkness had escaped Ianto.

"Hello,” Jack said, watching warily as Susan set down the tray and wheeled the table now holding it closer to the bed.

“Don’t look so worried,” Susan chuckled.  “It’s just dinner.”

“He told me how ill the unicorn blood made him.  I can’t imagine dragon blood being any gentler.”

Susan and Bill exchanged a look before conjuring chairs.  Susan and Freesia sat on the chairs, and Bill sat on the end of the bed.  Ianto stirred, coming awake surprisingly fast.  He looked around the room and sighed.

“How bad is this going to be?” he asked, looking resigned to more pain and unpleasantness.

“You had unicorn blood forced into your system in large enough quantities that it’s now a part of your blood matrix,” Susan began.  “It has probably been good for you in many ways, but there’s an imbalance in your system.  Never mind your vulnerability to the Hominum Revelio spell, though I admit that is the reason we started researching this, to begin with.”

“What do you mean, imbalance?” Jack asked. 

“Unicorn and dragon energies behave very much as yin and yang,” Bill explained.  “Humans are meant to find that balance within themselves, but every now and then, if a creature’s essence is introduced, it can throw the human’s system out of balance.”

“Do you often feel cold?” Freesia asked.  At Ianto’s nod, she continued, “You probably have a difficult time staying properly hydrated, because you’re rarely thirsty.  Low energy and a touchy tum can also be symptoms.  And a slow pulse.”

Ianto looked self-conscious as he nodded.  Owen had done test after test to be sure Ianto’s heart was healthy, because his pulse was always so sluggish.

“Wait,” Jack frowned.  “Low energy?”  Jack boggled at Ianto’s self-conscious shrug.  “Everything you do,” he breathed.  “Everything you take care of in a given day…  Are you telling me you’ve been doing all of that, all this time, while fighting lethargy?”

“Had to be done, Jack,” Ianto muttered, feeling strangely exposed.

“It’s why his exhaustion is so profound,” Bill stated, looking from Ianto to Jack.

“These symptoms can be innocuous, but they can also cause problems,” Susan said, speaking to Ianto.  “Your system was incredibly stressed because of the curses, so it would have been difficult to realize, but any of these symptoms can cause long-term, adverse health issues, if not addressed.”

“And the way to address them is by adding dragon’s blood?” Jack asked.

“Think of it as adding yang, to balance out the yin and bring the system back into harmony,” she replied.

“But the yin was forced on him,” Jack said, beginning to worry.  “Violently.”

“Yin is a passive energy,” Freesia pointed out.  “It is a great contrariety that so much force is required to anchor it in an environment that is alien to it.  I imagine it took a lot of blood, over and over again, for it to have rooted itself so deeply.”

Ianto shuddered, and Susan cut in, making a mental note to give Freesia a bit of advice on patient relations.  Enthusiasm was good, but not at the expense of the patient.  Healers across a vast array of disciplines were all aquiver, wanting to learn from Ianto’s ordeal and treatment.  But that excited zeal to learn left out the compassion her friend was due.  They needed to temper their excitement and honor his pain.

If not, Jack might weigh in, and she had a feeling that he wouldn’t be pleasant about it.  She saw him bristle even as Ianto seemed to draw further into himself.

“By contrast,” she said, giving Freesia a pointed look.  To her credit, the young Healer seemed to immediately realize her mis-step.  She sat back in her chair and let Susan take over.  “With yang energy, a little goes a long way.  By our calculations, a relatively small amount of dragon’s blood – when mixed into a stable, suitable potion – will balance the yin and yang energies in your body.”

“And you’re confident you have a stable, suitable potion?” Jack asked.

“We are,” Bill nodded.  “No one knew more about how to use dragon’s blood than Professor Dumbledore.  And it was his work that provided a sort of roadmap that Professors McGonagall and Slughorn and Madame Pomfrey used, to develop a receipt.  And a very talented group of Healers here at St. Mungo’s who specialize in potions – including Freesia,” he nodded in her direction, “have further refined it based on what we’ve observed during the curse-breaking and Ianto’s recovery.”

“One of the reasons it’s taken so long to develop the potion is that we’ve been testing and refining it extensively, to be sure we have the right mix,” Freesia added.

“What will it do to his blood matrix?” Jack asked. 

“It will balance out his entire system,” Susan answered Jack before turning to Ianto.  “Your blood matrix should resemble a set of scales.  Think of the human portion of the blood matrix as the construct, itself – the scales.  And at the moment, one pan is filled with the unicorn blood, but the other pan is empty.  So you’re out of balance.  By putting the dragon blood in that empty pan, the scales will come into balance, once more.”

“And since Freesia brought it up,” Bill added, “in terms of volume, it might be helpful to think of the creatures, themselves.  A unicorn’s blood is light, like quicksilver.  The pan on that side of the scales is completely filled.  But dragon’s blood is dense and heavy, like lava.  So by comparison, it will only take a few drops of it to even the scales.”

“And how will the scales being in balance affect him?” Jack had an arm around Ianto, who had sort of folded in on himself, trying to prepare for yet another ordeal.

“May I ask, Ianto,” Susan said, glancing at Jack to let him know she would answer his question in a moment, “How are you feeling?  Can you tell me, aside from the fatigue and the emotional turmoil, how you feel, physically?”

“I think I feel better,” Ianto said, “but it’s hard to tell, because it feels like the fatigue is sort of woven through my entire system.”  He sighed.  “But I do feel better.  I’m sleeping better, and I feel more solid.  More… real, if that makes sense.  And my body doesn’t hurt, but that’s such a relief that I feel strange and boneless, so it’s hard to say how I do feel, other than I don’t hurt.  And I’m tired.”

“I’m afraid that the fatigue will take some time to abate.  But I believe that once you have some more time to recover, you are going to feel quite good.  You probably won’t be quite as susceptible to the cold.  And it will be easier to get and stay hydrated.  The stomach cramps will go away, as will the lethargy.  Ianto,” she smiled, “you are going to feel so much better!”

Ianto nodded, he but could not summon any enthusiasm.  “How…  How difficult will the integration be?” he asked, too tired to feel ashamed of his dread.

“I’m sorry,” Susan sighed.  “But you will feel quite ill for a few hours.  And there will likely be a fever for a day or two.  Once it breaks, we believe you will immediately feel the benefits.”

Ianto began to shake as she spoke.  Jack pulled him close and kissed his temple.  “I would do this for you, if I could,” he whispered.

“Jack, I don’t think I can do this,” he whispered.  “It’s too much…”

“Can it wait a few days?” Jack asked.  “Let him rest.  Regroup.”

“At first, we thought you would only need to do this in order to eliminate your vulnerability to the Hominum Revelio spell,” Bill said to Ianto, his voice sympathetic.  “But with the curses gone, we’ve been able to observe just how pernicious the imbalance has been.”  He sighed.  “I don’t think putting it off will prepare you any better, even if you were to sleep the whole time.”

“Given how you’ve been processing the darkness, I would be concerned that a delay may actually increase your anxiety about this,” Susan added.

Jack felt Ianto slump in defeat.  He kissed him again.  “I’ll be with you the whole time,” he promised, feeling helpless.

Ianto hid in the crook of Jack’s neck, breathing him in and steeling himself.  After a few moments, he muttered, “Fuck it.”  Leaning back, he looked from Jack to Susan.  “I suppose we should get on with it, then,” he sighed.

***