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gracie_musicaTitle: Different Kind of Magic
Chapter Eight: Memories of Days Gone By
Date Written: 3/23/09
Rating: PG-13/T
Word Count: 2,880
Fandom: Torchwood/Doctor Who
Characters/Pairings: Ianto/Jack, Doctor, Doctor, Donna, Sarah Jane, Lee (DW), Ella (DW), Joshua (DW), Jenny (DW), Ace (DW), Jamie McCrimmon (DW), OC
Spoilers: Doctor Who up through Season 04, Torchwood up through 02, Different Sort of Science and To Days To Come
Warnings: AU like whoa, mentioned character death. I've been told this is a 'grab a tissue' chapter by both betas, so prepare yourselves accordingly.
Author's Notes: Thanks so much to my gorgeous betas![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
totally4ryo and katestamps, who are my sounding boards, my muses, and all-around fantastic girls. A reverse-birthday present for all my readers, I hope you enjoy!
Previous chapters found here.
Book cover bycjharknessgirl
"Are you my mummy?"
-- Jamie, The Empty Child
Ianto sighed as the mattress moved again when Jack tossed. "I, personally, am fond of sleep."
"Sorry," Jack murmured, putting an arm over Ianto's waist.
"What is it?"
"I... I have something I have to tell you," Jack said solemnly.
Ianto turned to look over his shoulder up at Jack. "No you don't."
"No, I do -- "
"No, Jack," Ianto said, sitting up properly. "You don't."
"There are things that you don't know about me," the Time Lord said softly.
Ianto rolled his eyes, shifting so he was leaning over Jack "D'you think I care?" He framed Jack's face with his hands. "You should want to tell me. The only things you need to tell me are the life-and-death things."
Jack chuckled softly, shaking his head. "You are infuriating."
"Only fitting, since you are too." He leaned down to kiss him softly.
"I want to tell you, Ianto."
"Okay."
"But it's better if I show you," Jack said, his hands sliding up to touch Ianto's temples. Long, talented fingers hovered for a moment, not quite touching him. Heat traveled through the minuscule distance to tingle deliciously against his skin, and Jack gave him a questioning gaze. Asking permission.
Ianto laughed. "Yes. Anything for you, you know that. Yes."
-----
Ianto knew from experience that mindscapes changed. His own had changed, albeit subtly, since Donna had first given him a glimpse of his own head.
The drastic difference this time blew Ianto away.
It wasn't the same room, the gallery that Ianto was so familiar with. It was similar to the safe inside Ianto's own mindscape, but not sealed away so completely. This was a hidden room, one Jack kept precious, painful memories in.
The normally blue walls were made of cold pieces of white tile, the pieces faded and yellowed with wear or age and making abstract almost-patterns. Blue-tinted light reflected harshly off the tile, making everything look even more alien, more surreal.
There were portraits here, too, as well as one single mural. The familiar honeycomb T, the crest of Torchwood House, was emblazoned in black tile against the white. Jack was marked as a Torchwood man, inside and out.
Even as he realized this, Ianto knew that the next time he went into his own library, he'd have Ts emblazoned in the walls between shelves. The ledgers of his heritage as a tailor's son, and the Torchwood crest as a symbol of where he belonged.
Next to the mosaic, the paintings began. The first was of two young girls, one blonde and one brunette, long hair pulled back from their faces as they smiled out at Ianto. They were sitting in what looked suspiciously like the Doctor's library, going through a pile of books on the table between them. They were obviously sisters, maybe twins since they were dressed alike; there was too much familiar similarity in the shape of their faces, the confidence flowing off the canvas.
He'd seen that face before. But where?
The next portrait -- that's what these were, portraits posed and full of hidden depth that Ianto knew he missed -- brought it together again. A young man with dark hair dominated the next one, leaning on a broadsword, a bright tartan kilt falling just past his knees. He was smiling the slightest of smiles, the same air of confidence pouring out of him.
Ianto took a step back so he could clearly see the sisters as well as the Scotsman. Their eyes had a similar shape, and the same high cheekbones and strong jawline.
Like the Doctor. Like Jack.
These were Jack's private memories of his family, those visual representations Jack was so fond of.
Strong hands found his waist and Ianto found his lover whispering in his ear. "My brother Jamie," he said, nodding over to the Scot, "and my twin sisters Ace and Jenny." Ianto didn't have to turn and look to know that Jack was wearing the fond, distant smile his father used. "They taught me everything I know about fighting."
Ianto couldn't stop the sarcastic "Thanks" that slipped out.
Jack laughed and kissed his temple before moving away, taking one of Ianto's hands as they walked through the tiled hall. "I really did have a great family," he said. He turned that far-off look onto Ianto, imagined what-might-have-beens almost tangible. "Oh, I wish you could have met them. They would have adored you."
"Yeah?" Ianto asked, smiling back.
"Oh yes."
"Well, someone has to keep you in line," the young Mage teased in a practiced deadpan.
Jack laughed again before pulling him close and kissing him soundly. "They would have adored you," he repeated. "At first because I love you, then because you would have won them over."
Ianto smiled a little against Jack's mouth. "As happy as it makes me to hear you talk about your family like this, you are stalling, Harkness."
Cool fingers trailed over his cheek. "Never can fool you for long," Jack said, kissing him one last time before leading him up to four portraits side by side. Three of them were familiar -- the Doctor, Donna and Queen Rose -- but the fourth was a stranger. There was still the family resemblance; the strong jawline, bright eyes, wide white smile. "An uncle? Cousin?" Ianto guessed.
"My father," Jack replied. "Well, sort of." He put his arms around Ianto's waist, holding him close. Ianto tilted his head back to look at Jack out of the corner of his eye, and Jack let out a huff of laughter. "You heard about the rumors that cropped up when I was born."
"About you being Rose's son," Ianto said. "Yes."
"They didn't abate when the Queen married Harold," Jack explained. "If anything, they made them worse. The story that I was a foundling wasn't being bought. So this man -- a cousin of my father's -- came up with an idea how to fix it."
"What was his name?" Ianto asked quietly.
"Matthew. His name was Matthew Harkness." He kissed Ianto's temple. "See, there are little pockets of Time Lords all over the world," he explained. "We're all related in some form or another, because our ancestors went through this whole keep the bloodlines pure kick when they first got to Earth. Their children and their children's children, however, grew up alongside Humans. They fell in love with them, married into their race."
"Like how the Time Lords that remained in this world did it because they loved their Mage brethren?" Ianto drew the parallel.
It earned him another kiss. "Exactly. Most Time Lord and Mage bloodlines are so watered down, I imagine that in a couple of generations there might not be any more magic. Matthew himself was more Mage than Time Lord, and raised me in kind.
"Anyway, Matthew lived in America. He was a widower, and his wife Nancy had been sterile. He was lonely, and they thought that maybe if I -- well, I vanished -- that the rumors would fade away. People would forget about me, and when I got older I could come back home."
As they watched, the portrait shifted without either of them touching it. It was like a little window into one of Jack's memories, and Ianto leaned in closer to get a better look.
Jack had to have been very little, since objects looked much bigger than he knew they were and the view seemed to be from lower down looking upwards. The image teetered a little, probably from uneven baby steps, and the bobbing face of Matthew Harkness appeared around a corner.
"Found you!"
The voice was slightly distant, worn down by time. The playful shriek of laughter from Jack was equally muted.
The viewpoint tilted as Harkness swept Jack up in his arms, throwing him up in the air before catching him. It was a familiar game, one Ianto himself had played with Ross when his nephew had still been easily portable. Jack's laughter got louder and louder the higher his father threw him.
After a few throws, Harkness pulled him into a tight hug. The image became a close-up of woven fabric and skin, Jack burying his tiny face into his father’s neck.
"I love you, Daddy."
Ianto slid his hands over Jack's, squeezing his fingers reassuringly when Harkness' image reasserted itself in the portrait format. "When I was about ten," Jack continued, "He decided we were going to visit my Uncle John and Aunt Donna. I'd grown up on stories about Wales and Torchwood House, and when I got here, everything just... clicked."
"You fit in better than you ever thought you could have," Ianto agreed. "You belonged, and you hadn't realized it until you got here."
Jack nuzzled his ear softly, grinning. "Couldn't have put it better myself. I think everyone feels like that in Torchwood House, to be honest. You're you here; no court drama, no parents, just you making your own way on your own merits.
"Anyway. I loved it here. Adored it, actually. I'd grown up without a mother and Donna filled that emptiness by using some pent-up mothering onto me. And the Doctor was just amazing."
"You said once that Donna had children," Ianto interrupted. "And a husband as well."
"Uncle Lee, and Ella and Josh," Jack confirmed. "They got married not long after I turned up." He smiled a little. "The Doctor fell in love with Sarah Jane when they were very young, they had lots of children together. Donna wanted that for herself, but she had other duties in the House so she put that part of her life on hold. Why not, right? She had plenty of time."
"But then Sarah Jane died," Ianto realized. "She took care of her brother and his children. And then they grew up."
"And then I came along," Jack finished the line of thought. "Very good, Jones."
"I can't imagine what that must be like," Ianto said. "I mean... Losing your children, your partner, your whole family? I'd go mad."
"We're alright," Jack told him.
"Special Smith family code for not really alright at all," Ianto admonished.
"We're coping," Jack amended, pulling Ianto back into him. "You help."
"I do?"
The Time Lord made an affirmative noise, his nose buried in Ianto's dark hair. "You gave us our family back. I can talk about them with you."
"And yet we keep getting off-topic," Ianto said with a short laugh.
Jack chuckled softly -- he kept doing that, Ianto realized, a sure sign that he was nervous over something -- and trailed his fingers down Ianto's arms. The young Mage's skin tingled from the feather-soft, almost-there touches. "Give me time, I'm not used to talking about this," he said, kissing Ianto's neck.
"We -- Matthew and I -- initially came over for just a short trip, but I grew fond of life here. I had great teachers, fun cousins to play with, and I could use my talents here because there was so much more supervision. When it was time for us to start packing up, I begged to stay. They gave me the whole we'll see what we can do runaround, but even then, deep down, I knew that the Doctor wouldn't be able to let me go back to America if I wanted to stay here."
"How long did it take for you to find out you were his son?" Ianto asked.
"A very long time, actually," Jack told him. "I was... seventeen, eighteen, maybe?" he paused in his story, looking skywards as he thought.
Ianto wondered what took him so long. He had all the mannerisms of the Head of Torchwood House.
"I was out on the training grounds with Jamie and Ian. Ian," he explained, "was my eldest brother, he was going to take over for the Doctor. So we're out on the field, sparring and cutting up and being, well, boys... and I lost my footing and fell into Jamie's sword. Died right there in my brothers' arms with a huge hole in my chest."
Ianto's mouth made a little 'o' of realization. "Which healed when you came back to life."
"They had to tell me then, about my trigger ceremony, about my... Gift." The last word was said with such disdain that Ianto could taste it. "And about my parents.
"Needless to say, I didn't take it well. I locked myself up in my room and refused to come out. Donna tried to break in with magic, but..." He grinned. "I was my father's son. I found a spell they couldn't break and used it."
The portrait shifted again, and Ianto recognized his and Jack's quarters. The door shook in its frame, accompanied by a muted thumping sound.
"Go away!" Jack's voice rang out.
"Jack Harkness, you open up this door right now!" Harkness' voice echoed back. "I didn't come all this way to yell at a door!"
Jack was on his feet in an instant, wrenching the door open. Harkness was a bit older, a touch of gray around his temples and a few faint creases around the corner of his eyes. "... You're not my father," Jack finally said after a long moment.
"Like hell I'm not!" Harkness roared. Ianto recognized the tone; it was one Jack used often in morning classes. "You're not my blood, no, but I sat up with you when you were a baby and taught you to read and write and I love you."
The view blurred, and Ianto could understand why; he was getting a touch misty-eyed himself. "Daddy," Jack murmured, hugging Harkness tight.
"You're my son and nothing will ever change that," Harkness said in his ear. "So you have two fathers. You're lucky!"
Ianto turned away from the image to look at Jack over his shoulder. "How long did it take you to patch things up with your family?"
"Mmm." Just one sound, and Ianto knew the answer was complicated. "My siblings made it easy. They accepted me without prejudice. There was no animosity towards Rose when the Doctor fell in love with her. He wasn't replacing Sarah Jane with my mother. And Donna..." Jack trailed off, smiling softly. "Well, you know how impossible it is to hold a grudge against her."
"She doesn't let you," Ianto agreed with a laugh.
Jack laughed as well and nodded. "The Doctor and I were... friendly. Distant, but friendly. It really hurt him, especially because Matthew stayed in the House. He saw that father-son interaction, and I knew he wanted it but I refused to give it to him. I refused him that for a long time." Jack took in a deep breath before letting it out slowly, blowing against the shell of Ianto's ear. "Then everyone got sick."
"How many times did you die?" Ianto asked softly.
"Twice," Jack told him. "I was one of the first, as well as the last." He ran his hands up and down one of Ianto's arms. "I even missed their funerals."
This time the Doctor's oil portrait sprang to life, slowly focusing in on the quiet sanctuary that housed the remains of Time Lords that had passed on. One of the tombstones dominated the view, perched as it was over a fresh grave. The name Matthew Harkness was newly carved into the granite, the lettering sharp and free from the wear of time.
The sound of someone approaching echoed back and Jack turned to see the Doctor standing there, hands pushed deep into his trouser pockets. Ianto could practically hear his lover's resolve snap and he all but fell into his father's arms. The Doctor started murmuring, muted and unintelligible and probably nonsense, but the tone was reassuring.
Jack was murmuring as well, one word over and over. "Father... Father..."
Ianto turned from the scene and faced Jack. Even in the faint light, he could see that Jack's eyes were glassy. He took both of Jack's hands and squeezed them softly. "Let's go back."
-----
Jack tried to hide it, but Ianto could tell that his lover was still upset by the memories he'd shared. The young Mage wrapped his arms around Jack, pulling him close and soothing him with soft kisses and encouraging words. After a short time, Jack calmed enough and stopped shivering in his arms.
"Why did you show me that?" Ianto asked once Jack's breathing evened out. "Don't get me wrong, I'm touched, honored that you did."
The Time Lord smiled back up at him, looking world-worn and weary. "I wanted to. You deserved to know."
Ianto shook his head fondly, smiling a little. "I don't deserve anything, love. It hurt you."
"Yes," Jack admitted. "But I wanted to." He moved to sit up, the sheets sliding from the movement, the gentle touch its own version of a caress. "It's too painful to talk about things like this with Aunt Donna and my father -- I can't even imagine bringing it up with my mother, she'd feel so guilty about it. But to share it with you, to share everything with you... it almost as natural as breathing."
Ianto smiled and touched Jack's cheek before leaning in and kissing him.
There was nothing he could say in return. Jack had said it all.
Chapter Eight: Memories of Days Gone By
Date Written: 3/23/09
Rating: PG-13/T
Word Count: 2,880
Fandom: Torchwood/Doctor Who
Characters/Pairings: Ianto/Jack, Doctor, Doctor, Donna, Sarah Jane, Lee (DW), Ella (DW), Joshua (DW), Jenny (DW), Ace (DW), Jamie McCrimmon (DW), OC
Spoilers: Doctor Who up through Season 04, Torchwood up through 02, Different Sort of Science and To Days To Come
Warnings: AU like whoa, mentioned character death. I've been told this is a 'grab a tissue' chapter by both betas, so prepare yourselves accordingly.
Author's Notes: Thanks so much to my gorgeous betas
totally4ryo and katestamps, who are my sounding boards, my muses, and all-around fantastic girls. A reverse-birthday present for all my readers, I hope you enjoy!Previous chapters found here.
Book cover by
cjharknessgirl"Are you my mummy?"
-- Jamie, The Empty Child
Ianto sighed as the mattress moved again when Jack tossed. "I, personally, am fond of sleep."
"Sorry," Jack murmured, putting an arm over Ianto's waist.
"What is it?"
"I... I have something I have to tell you," Jack said solemnly.
Ianto turned to look over his shoulder up at Jack. "No you don't."
"No, I do -- "
"No, Jack," Ianto said, sitting up properly. "You don't."
"There are things that you don't know about me," the Time Lord said softly.
Ianto rolled his eyes, shifting so he was leaning over Jack "D'you think I care?" He framed Jack's face with his hands. "You should want to tell me. The only things you need to tell me are the life-and-death things."
Jack chuckled softly, shaking his head. "You are infuriating."
"Only fitting, since you are too." He leaned down to kiss him softly.
"I want to tell you, Ianto."
"Okay."
"But it's better if I show you," Jack said, his hands sliding up to touch Ianto's temples. Long, talented fingers hovered for a moment, not quite touching him. Heat traveled through the minuscule distance to tingle deliciously against his skin, and Jack gave him a questioning gaze. Asking permission.
Ianto laughed. "Yes. Anything for you, you know that. Yes."
-----
Ianto knew from experience that mindscapes changed. His own had changed, albeit subtly, since Donna had first given him a glimpse of his own head.
The drastic difference this time blew Ianto away.
It wasn't the same room, the gallery that Ianto was so familiar with. It was similar to the safe inside Ianto's own mindscape, but not sealed away so completely. This was a hidden room, one Jack kept precious, painful memories in.
The normally blue walls were made of cold pieces of white tile, the pieces faded and yellowed with wear or age and making abstract almost-patterns. Blue-tinted light reflected harshly off the tile, making everything look even more alien, more surreal.
There were portraits here, too, as well as one single mural. The familiar honeycomb T, the crest of Torchwood House, was emblazoned in black tile against the white. Jack was marked as a Torchwood man, inside and out.
Even as he realized this, Ianto knew that the next time he went into his own library, he'd have Ts emblazoned in the walls between shelves. The ledgers of his heritage as a tailor's son, and the Torchwood crest as a symbol of where he belonged.
Next to the mosaic, the paintings began. The first was of two young girls, one blonde and one brunette, long hair pulled back from their faces as they smiled out at Ianto. They were sitting in what looked suspiciously like the Doctor's library, going through a pile of books on the table between them. They were obviously sisters, maybe twins since they were dressed alike; there was too much familiar similarity in the shape of their faces, the confidence flowing off the canvas.
He'd seen that face before. But where?
The next portrait -- that's what these were, portraits posed and full of hidden depth that Ianto knew he missed -- brought it together again. A young man with dark hair dominated the next one, leaning on a broadsword, a bright tartan kilt falling just past his knees. He was smiling the slightest of smiles, the same air of confidence pouring out of him.
Ianto took a step back so he could clearly see the sisters as well as the Scotsman. Their eyes had a similar shape, and the same high cheekbones and strong jawline.
Like the Doctor. Like Jack.
These were Jack's private memories of his family, those visual representations Jack was so fond of.
Strong hands found his waist and Ianto found his lover whispering in his ear. "My brother Jamie," he said, nodding over to the Scot, "and my twin sisters Ace and Jenny." Ianto didn't have to turn and look to know that Jack was wearing the fond, distant smile his father used. "They taught me everything I know about fighting."
Ianto couldn't stop the sarcastic "Thanks" that slipped out.
Jack laughed and kissed his temple before moving away, taking one of Ianto's hands as they walked through the tiled hall. "I really did have a great family," he said. He turned that far-off look onto Ianto, imagined what-might-have-beens almost tangible. "Oh, I wish you could have met them. They would have adored you."
"Yeah?" Ianto asked, smiling back.
"Oh yes."
"Well, someone has to keep you in line," the young Mage teased in a practiced deadpan.
Jack laughed again before pulling him close and kissing him soundly. "They would have adored you," he repeated. "At first because I love you, then because you would have won them over."
Ianto smiled a little against Jack's mouth. "As happy as it makes me to hear you talk about your family like this, you are stalling, Harkness."
Cool fingers trailed over his cheek. "Never can fool you for long," Jack said, kissing him one last time before leading him up to four portraits side by side. Three of them were familiar -- the Doctor, Donna and Queen Rose -- but the fourth was a stranger. There was still the family resemblance; the strong jawline, bright eyes, wide white smile. "An uncle? Cousin?" Ianto guessed.
"My father," Jack replied. "Well, sort of." He put his arms around Ianto's waist, holding him close. Ianto tilted his head back to look at Jack out of the corner of his eye, and Jack let out a huff of laughter. "You heard about the rumors that cropped up when I was born."
"About you being Rose's son," Ianto said. "Yes."
"They didn't abate when the Queen married Harold," Jack explained. "If anything, they made them worse. The story that I was a foundling wasn't being bought. So this man -- a cousin of my father's -- came up with an idea how to fix it."
"What was his name?" Ianto asked quietly.
"Matthew. His name was Matthew Harkness." He kissed Ianto's temple. "See, there are little pockets of Time Lords all over the world," he explained. "We're all related in some form or another, because our ancestors went through this whole keep the bloodlines pure kick when they first got to Earth. Their children and their children's children, however, grew up alongside Humans. They fell in love with them, married into their race."
"Like how the Time Lords that remained in this world did it because they loved their Mage brethren?" Ianto drew the parallel.
It earned him another kiss. "Exactly. Most Time Lord and Mage bloodlines are so watered down, I imagine that in a couple of generations there might not be any more magic. Matthew himself was more Mage than Time Lord, and raised me in kind.
"Anyway, Matthew lived in America. He was a widower, and his wife Nancy had been sterile. He was lonely, and they thought that maybe if I -- well, I vanished -- that the rumors would fade away. People would forget about me, and when I got older I could come back home."
As they watched, the portrait shifted without either of them touching it. It was like a little window into one of Jack's memories, and Ianto leaned in closer to get a better look.
Jack had to have been very little, since objects looked much bigger than he knew they were and the view seemed to be from lower down looking upwards. The image teetered a little, probably from uneven baby steps, and the bobbing face of Matthew Harkness appeared around a corner.
"Found you!"
The voice was slightly distant, worn down by time. The playful shriek of laughter from Jack was equally muted.
The viewpoint tilted as Harkness swept Jack up in his arms, throwing him up in the air before catching him. It was a familiar game, one Ianto himself had played with Ross when his nephew had still been easily portable. Jack's laughter got louder and louder the higher his father threw him.
After a few throws, Harkness pulled him into a tight hug. The image became a close-up of woven fabric and skin, Jack burying his tiny face into his father’s neck.
"I love you, Daddy."
Ianto slid his hands over Jack's, squeezing his fingers reassuringly when Harkness' image reasserted itself in the portrait format. "When I was about ten," Jack continued, "He decided we were going to visit my Uncle John and Aunt Donna. I'd grown up on stories about Wales and Torchwood House, and when I got here, everything just... clicked."
"You fit in better than you ever thought you could have," Ianto agreed. "You belonged, and you hadn't realized it until you got here."
Jack nuzzled his ear softly, grinning. "Couldn't have put it better myself. I think everyone feels like that in Torchwood House, to be honest. You're you here; no court drama, no parents, just you making your own way on your own merits.
"Anyway. I loved it here. Adored it, actually. I'd grown up without a mother and Donna filled that emptiness by using some pent-up mothering onto me. And the Doctor was just amazing."
"You said once that Donna had children," Ianto interrupted. "And a husband as well."
"Uncle Lee, and Ella and Josh," Jack confirmed. "They got married not long after I turned up." He smiled a little. "The Doctor fell in love with Sarah Jane when they were very young, they had lots of children together. Donna wanted that for herself, but she had other duties in the House so she put that part of her life on hold. Why not, right? She had plenty of time."
"But then Sarah Jane died," Ianto realized. "She took care of her brother and his children. And then they grew up."
"And then I came along," Jack finished the line of thought. "Very good, Jones."
"I can't imagine what that must be like," Ianto said. "I mean... Losing your children, your partner, your whole family? I'd go mad."
"We're alright," Jack told him.
"Special Smith family code for not really alright at all," Ianto admonished.
"We're coping," Jack amended, pulling Ianto back into him. "You help."
"I do?"
The Time Lord made an affirmative noise, his nose buried in Ianto's dark hair. "You gave us our family back. I can talk about them with you."
"And yet we keep getting off-topic," Ianto said with a short laugh.
Jack chuckled softly -- he kept doing that, Ianto realized, a sure sign that he was nervous over something -- and trailed his fingers down Ianto's arms. The young Mage's skin tingled from the feather-soft, almost-there touches. "Give me time, I'm not used to talking about this," he said, kissing Ianto's neck.
"We -- Matthew and I -- initially came over for just a short trip, but I grew fond of life here. I had great teachers, fun cousins to play with, and I could use my talents here because there was so much more supervision. When it was time for us to start packing up, I begged to stay. They gave me the whole we'll see what we can do runaround, but even then, deep down, I knew that the Doctor wouldn't be able to let me go back to America if I wanted to stay here."
"How long did it take for you to find out you were his son?" Ianto asked.
"A very long time, actually," Jack told him. "I was... seventeen, eighteen, maybe?" he paused in his story, looking skywards as he thought.
Ianto wondered what took him so long. He had all the mannerisms of the Head of Torchwood House.
"I was out on the training grounds with Jamie and Ian. Ian," he explained, "was my eldest brother, he was going to take over for the Doctor. So we're out on the field, sparring and cutting up and being, well, boys... and I lost my footing and fell into Jamie's sword. Died right there in my brothers' arms with a huge hole in my chest."
Ianto's mouth made a little 'o' of realization. "Which healed when you came back to life."
"They had to tell me then, about my trigger ceremony, about my... Gift." The last word was said with such disdain that Ianto could taste it. "And about my parents.
"Needless to say, I didn't take it well. I locked myself up in my room and refused to come out. Donna tried to break in with magic, but..." He grinned. "I was my father's son. I found a spell they couldn't break and used it."
The portrait shifted again, and Ianto recognized his and Jack's quarters. The door shook in its frame, accompanied by a muted thumping sound.
"Go away!" Jack's voice rang out.
"Jack Harkness, you open up this door right now!" Harkness' voice echoed back. "I didn't come all this way to yell at a door!"
Jack was on his feet in an instant, wrenching the door open. Harkness was a bit older, a touch of gray around his temples and a few faint creases around the corner of his eyes. "... You're not my father," Jack finally said after a long moment.
"Like hell I'm not!" Harkness roared. Ianto recognized the tone; it was one Jack used often in morning classes. "You're not my blood, no, but I sat up with you when you were a baby and taught you to read and write and I love you."
The view blurred, and Ianto could understand why; he was getting a touch misty-eyed himself. "Daddy," Jack murmured, hugging Harkness tight.
"You're my son and nothing will ever change that," Harkness said in his ear. "So you have two fathers. You're lucky!"
Ianto turned away from the image to look at Jack over his shoulder. "How long did it take you to patch things up with your family?"
"Mmm." Just one sound, and Ianto knew the answer was complicated. "My siblings made it easy. They accepted me without prejudice. There was no animosity towards Rose when the Doctor fell in love with her. He wasn't replacing Sarah Jane with my mother. And Donna..." Jack trailed off, smiling softly. "Well, you know how impossible it is to hold a grudge against her."
"She doesn't let you," Ianto agreed with a laugh.
Jack laughed as well and nodded. "The Doctor and I were... friendly. Distant, but friendly. It really hurt him, especially because Matthew stayed in the House. He saw that father-son interaction, and I knew he wanted it but I refused to give it to him. I refused him that for a long time." Jack took in a deep breath before letting it out slowly, blowing against the shell of Ianto's ear. "Then everyone got sick."
"How many times did you die?" Ianto asked softly.
"Twice," Jack told him. "I was one of the first, as well as the last." He ran his hands up and down one of Ianto's arms. "I even missed their funerals."
This time the Doctor's oil portrait sprang to life, slowly focusing in on the quiet sanctuary that housed the remains of Time Lords that had passed on. One of the tombstones dominated the view, perched as it was over a fresh grave. The name Matthew Harkness was newly carved into the granite, the lettering sharp and free from the wear of time.
The sound of someone approaching echoed back and Jack turned to see the Doctor standing there, hands pushed deep into his trouser pockets. Ianto could practically hear his lover's resolve snap and he all but fell into his father's arms. The Doctor started murmuring, muted and unintelligible and probably nonsense, but the tone was reassuring.
Jack was murmuring as well, one word over and over. "Father... Father..."
Ianto turned from the scene and faced Jack. Even in the faint light, he could see that Jack's eyes were glassy. He took both of Jack's hands and squeezed them softly. "Let's go back."
-----
Jack tried to hide it, but Ianto could tell that his lover was still upset by the memories he'd shared. The young Mage wrapped his arms around Jack, pulling him close and soothing him with soft kisses and encouraging words. After a short time, Jack calmed enough and stopped shivering in his arms.
"Why did you show me that?" Ianto asked once Jack's breathing evened out. "Don't get me wrong, I'm touched, honored that you did."
The Time Lord smiled back up at him, looking world-worn and weary. "I wanted to. You deserved to know."
Ianto shook his head fondly, smiling a little. "I don't deserve anything, love. It hurt you."
"Yes," Jack admitted. "But I wanted to." He moved to sit up, the sheets sliding from the movement, the gentle touch its own version of a caress. "It's too painful to talk about things like this with Aunt Donna and my father -- I can't even imagine bringing it up with my mother, she'd feel so guilty about it. But to share it with you, to share everything with you... it almost as natural as breathing."
Ianto smiled and touched Jack's cheek before leaning in and kissing him.
There was nothing he could say in return. Jack had said it all.
