Cursed

Jack’s fear had been enough to convince a chastened Ianto to more carefully heed Susan’s orders.  Over the next five days, he only left the bed to use the toilet or bathe, and he slept all but two to four hours each day.  It helped that he literally could have done little else; he did not feel poorly, just too tired to even consider doing more.  It was a bone-deep weariness that he had not experienced before – so much more than the fatigue that always nagged at him because of the constant reaching for his bound magic or just enduring the pain of his remaking.

Jack took great delight in cooking meals that would tempt his lover to eat, and at least a portion of Ianto’s waking hours was devoted to long, slow snogging sessions, during which Jack tried to be sneaky by breathing bolstering bits of vortex into his lover.

Ianto pretended not to notice, but really – it was difficult to ignore the dizzying blasts of energy that left him light-headed and buzzing with energy.  Thankfully, that energy did not make him hyper or unable to sleep; if anything, he drifted off more easily, like the energy itself could tell that the best way to heal him would be to help him sleep.

Outside of the kisses, the best treats were the bubble baths.  Jack would wake Ianto with sweet kisses and lead his tired and tousled wizard to the ensuite where a steaming bath would be waiting.  Jack would gently wash his lover and then rinse the suds off in a tepid shower that would cool his overheated skin before helping him to dry off and dress (or not) before returning to bed to doze while his next meal was prepared.

Susan checked on him every day, pleased with his progress.  At the end of the five days she had ordered that he keep to his bed, she was happy to see that he had regained the ground he had lost since being discharged from St. Mungo’s.  However, she felt it would be best if he make a bit more progress before heading to Hogsmeade, so she advised another five days of rest, though she did acquiesce to allowing Ianto to get up and dressed after two more days, on the condition that for the final three days of his confinement that he not leave his bed – or his flat, for that matter – for more than two hours each day.

Gwen’s memorial service was held on the first day that Ianto was allowed to leave his flat.  Given the two hour limitation that Jack showed every intention of studiously enforcing, there was no time to do more than attend the service and make an appearance at the wake.  Rhys discreetly asked Toshiko what ailed his fellow Welshman, and Tosh told him Ianto had been very ill and had suffered a bit of a setback during the incident that had taken Gwen’s life.

Rhys felt quite guilty, realizing his attack had doubtless contributed to the ‘setback’.  He made his way over to the younger man and tried to apologize, but Ianto waved him off.

“Don’t worry about it.  I know what it’s like,” he said.

“You said that, before,” Rhys replied, feeling awkward and wanting to know but not knowing how to ask.

“My fiancé was killed at Canary Wharf, not long before I moved back to Cardiff,” he explained.

“Jesus.  I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Thank you,” Ianto replied, his voice quiet.  “Just…” he hesitated, not sure if it was his place to say anything, but feeling compelled to, nevertheless.  “I know it seems completely ridiculous that the world is still turning right now, but just hang in there.  It gets…”

“Don’t you dare try to tell me it gets better,” Rhys said, his voice rough.

“No, not better.  Just… less bad.  You learn to live with it.  And you’ll always miss her, but that won’t – shouldn’t – keep you from… living.”  He shrugged.  “You know.  Eventually.”

“Eventually,” Rhys conceded with a nod.  He was too overwhelmed by his grief to even imagine that things would ever be less bad, as Ianto had described it, but he could accept that with time, it might be possible.  He was surprised to find that the conversation had actually made him feel a bit better.  “Thanks, mate,” he said, offering his hand for Ianto to shake.

“There you are,” Jack appeared by Ianto’s side, putting an arm around his waist.  “Are you ready to go?” he asked, knowing better than to ask what he really wanted to know – whether Ianto felt alright.

“I’m okay, Jack,” Ianto smiled fondly at his lover.  “But yeah, I think we should probably be going, soon.”

They both seemed to remember Rhys was still there at the same time and turned to see him staring, his mouth slightly open.  To his credit, he caught himself, saying, “Workplace romance, then?”

“Not that unusual,” Jack said, smiling.

“Well, no, it’s just that Gwen…” Rhys trailed off, but Ianto’s kind smile had him finishing the thought.  “Gwen said you’re a bit of a Casanova, that’s all.”

Jack schooled his features, but Ianto caught the flash of annoyance there.  He wasn’t sure Jack fully understood what Rhys was fishing for, but he was happy to set his fellow Welshman’s mind at ease.

“Jack is a teller of tall tales and impossible adventures,” Ianto said, his voice fond.  “But there are a couple of things that I’m not sure Gwen ever understood.”

“And what are they?” Rhys asked, despite himself.

“First, doubt at your own risk.  I’ve found that the more improbable the story, the more likely it is to be true.”

Jack laughed, and Rhys found himself chuckling along.  “And second?”

“Second, those stories are from a really long time ago.  Jack may have been a bit of a lothario back in the day…”

“Hey,” Jack protested, but Ianto looked at him with a raised eyebrow, and after a moment, he shrugged.  “Fair.”  But then he hastened to add, “But it’s like you said.  Back in the day.  I’m a one-man kind of guy, now,” he smiled goofily at his partner.

“Just so,” a smile twitched at the corner of Ianto’s mouth.  “Jack flirts like nobody’s business, but he doesn’t play the field.”

Rhys seemed to take that onboard, and then he asked, “And how long have you two been together?”

It seemed like a normal question.  One you would ask any couple.  But there was an edge to it that even Jack picked up on.  He threw an arm around Ianto, who was composing a subtle answer in his head and said, “Just before Gwen joined, I think.  That was a busy time, wasn’t it?”

Ianto watched as Rhys relaxed, his suspicion thankfully on Jack rather than Owen.  Gwen’s interests may have inclined more resolutely towards the former, but she only acted on those towards the latter.  Thankfully, Owen knew to steer well clear of Rhys.  Normally he was, as he himself proclaimed, a twat; but now was one of those times that he knew to rein it in.  After all, he knew how Rhys felt, too.

Ianto shook Rhys’ hand again, telling him not to hesitate to reach out, for any reason, and then once Jack bade his own farewell, Ianto let his lover support him as they made to leave.  He stopped long enough to invite Tosh and Owen over to Ianto’s for dinner later, and then they returned to Ianto’s flat, Jack noting that they had made it back with five minutes to spare.

Jack helped Ianto out of his clothes and the younger man was surprised to see, as he climbed back into his bed, Jack meticulously hanging his suit and putting away his tie and belt before adding his socks, vest, and pants to the laundry basket and putting the shirt in with the dry cleaning.  Ianto felt a wave of affection and gratitude wash over him, and he deliberately blasted it along the bond in an effort to convince Jack to join him, at least for a while.

Jack was only too happy to acquiesce to his lover’s wishes.

***

Ianto was determined to recover without causing further stress or worry to his lover.  Likewise, Jack was equally determined to spoil Ianto so thoroughly during his recovery that he would never again have reason to doubt Jack’s regard. 

It only took a few more days for Ianto to feel as though he’d turned a corner.  The fatigue abated enough that it stopped feeding the mental anguish and emotional turmoil that had been adding to his distress.  Likewise, the sense of overwhelm began to ease, and in its place grew a soft, steady assurance that cooled the dragon’s fire and warmed the unicorn’s chill.  His body began to find balance, and his mind quickly followed suit.  Emotional stability was not far behind, and it was a great relief when he began to feel more solid and stable.

Under Jack’s affectionate and watchful eye, Ianto grew stronger.  Susan continued to visit daily, checking in on Ianto and monitoring his progress.  More often than not, Owen would join her, and he began to learn a great deal about the subtleties of wizard physiology.  With Susan’s permission, they added short walks to each day, beginning to rebuild Ianto’s strength.  But mostly, he rested and regrouped and let Jack spoil him. 

They delayed going to Hogsmeade by two weeks in order to be sure Ianto was on more solid ground.  All in all, everyone was pleased with the result of the delay, though it took that entire time for him to heal from the gunshot wound.  It was a Sunday afternoon when Ron, Hermione, Harry, Ginny, Luna, and George accompanied Ianto and Jack to Hogsmeade.

Augusta Longbottom and Professor McGonagall met them at the Three Broomsticks, and they had a pleasant visit before most of the group headed to Hogwarts.  Plans had been changed and refined as Ianto’s recovery time in Cardiff took longer than expected.  That, combined with a letter she could never admit to having received, led Professor McGonagall to decide that Jack and Ianto should stay at the school rather than in town. 

It was decided that Luna’s expertise as an Unspeakable and Ron’s, Harry’s, and Hermione’s experience as Aurors would be useful additions to the knowledge of Madame Pomfrey and the teachers at Hogwarts in evaluating Ianto’s magic.  The Ministry had immediately given its blessing to the plan, approving the secondment of the four and remunerating them, as well as the staff at Hogwarts, for the extra effort they expected Ianto’s rehabilitation to require.

Once they had enjoyed tea and a visit, Augusta headed to St. Mungo’s for her semi-weekly visit with Frank and Alice, and George headed back to his shop.  The four from the Ministry would be staying at Hogwarts, and Ginny would join them when not working.  It was the height of the season, and the Holyhead Harpies had a shot at the finals, so she was training hard with her team, most days.  But her spare time was dedicated to being at Hogwarts to support her friend.

The group accompanied Professor McGonagall to the castle.  Interestingly, they discovered that someone with training in breaking perception filters could see past the protective spells as Jack could plainly see the school and not the ruin that other muggles saw. 

Luna, Ginny and Harry, Ron and Hermione, and Jack and Ianto were all given quarters in the guest wing of the castle, and they spent the evening settling in.  The next day, Ianto spent a great deal of time with Madame Pomfrey and Susan, who had come to consult and let the Hogwarts Healer know the full extent of the horrors Ianto had endured and the challenges he still faced.

Madame Pomfrey had known some of it, but the full hand-off of every detail had her discreetly wiping her eyes with a handkerchief when no one was watching.  The poor boy!  She admitted a certain exasperation with the clumsiness Neville had always shown; but she had never wished the boy ill.  Now, she was ashamed of her exasperation and could only find patience and compassion for his travails, though the former would be sorely tested in the coming weeks as his stubbornness and desire to be well would cause him to overtax himself, on occasion.

But that was yet to come, and after a thorough physical examination, it was decided that was enough, for his first day.  The entirety of the time between breakfast and lunch had been spent with the Healers, and once Jack ate and Ianto pushed a bit of food around his plate, the two men retired to their rooms to rest.

When they emerged for dinner with their friends and the school staff, Luna very pointedly reminded Ianto of the muffliato spell and its purpose.  The others, who had resolved not to say anything, burst into raucous laughter.  Jack laughed along, realizing from Luna’s description of the spell why she was recommending it.  He grinned at Ianto, who had ducked his head in an attempt to hide the fact that he had turned a gorgeous shade of pink.

Jack thought it worth celebrating his lover had been solid and not so fatigued when they returned to their rooms that he wasn’t up for some play.  And if a bit of Jack’s dignity had been sacrificed to the camaraderie that was reasserting itself amongst the group, he was okay with that.  He’d never set much store by dignity, anyway; not when Ianto could make him holler like that.

It had been a joyful, noisy, messy encounter that had left them both incoherent for a while before Jack dragged himself out of bed and cleaned up his half-conscious lover before drawing the bed’s hanging curtains closed and surrendering to sleep.  Ianto had slept soundly for several hours, but it had taken him ages to fully waken and dress for dinner.  Jack saw that as a simple reminder that they would all need to help Ianto be sure he did not overexert himself.

That would be easy enough for Jack to do, as far as their bedroom activities were concerned.  After all, he was an expert in such things, particularly as they applied to Ianto.  But he also realized he would need to keep a close eye on all of the other activities that Ianto would be taking part in.  He was the one who knew Ianto best now, so he would need to be sure to step in if the others did not recognize when Ianto’s limits had been reached.

Jack looked fondly at his lover again, and noticed the tips of his ears were still slightly pink.  He smiled indulgently and knew he was up for the challenge.

***