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gracie_musica) wrote2009-06-12 04:49 am
gracie_musica) wrote2009-06-12 04:49 am
Entry tags:
Different Kind of Magic -- Picking Up The Pieces
Title: Different Kind of Magic
Chapter Twelve: Picking Up The Pieces
Date Written: 6/12/09
Rating: PG/K+
Word Count: 1,640
Fandom: Torchwood/Doctor Who
Characters/Pairings: Ianto/Jack, John Lumic (DW), Martha, Owen, John Hart (TW)
Spoilers: Doctor Who up through Season 04, Torchwood up through 02, Different Sort of Science and To Days To Come
Warnings: AU like whoa.
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, and an extra special thanks to everyone who voted for the Mageverse over at the Children of Time Awards! I know you've been waiting, but the muses are starting wake back up!
Previous chapters found here.
Book cover bycjharknessgirl
"Excellent! Then lets begin!"
-- John Lumic, The Age of Steel
"I said get out!"
Jack bolted out of the room, flinching when something glass shattered against the closed door behind him. He took a deep breath and leaned back against the wooden barrier, looking at Ianto.
Ianto, in turn, sighed. "I hope that wasn't as expensive as it sounded. Like a mirror."
"Like he could stand any more bad luck," Jack grumbled, letting his head fall back against the door.
"Be patient," the Welshman soothed. "He's still grieving."
"It's not like he died."
Ianto shook his head. "The man he used to be died. He has to mourn the loss of that old life, accept what has happened and move on from it."
"We could fix him, if he'd let us." The pain was nearly palpable in Jack's voice. He was so like his parents; wanting to make everything better but knowing that people had to make their own choices to help themselves.
Ianto smiled and reached across for Jack's hand, soothing his lover's frustration. "Sometimes you can't patch up something when it's so completely broken."
Jack just shook his head. "You try."
"I already have. He won't say two words to me."
"Try again." Jack squeezed his hand. "He needs us, Ianto."
The Mage nodded after a moment, letting go of Jack's hand. His lover moved away from the door and Ianto carefully opened it, peeking into the room that had been his when he first arrived at Torchwood House.
Lumic was lying on the bed, his face turned away from the door. The way the sun was streaming in through the window and washing over the form in the bed, the man looked even sicker than he had when he'd first arrived. He was about as white as the linen he was wrapped in and the light playing across his face made his loose skin show even more, shadows crossing his skin. Next to his bed was yet another untouched meal, a bowl of beef stew and a loaf of bread balanced on a tray on the bedside table.
"I said get out," Lumic said, not even bothering to look over at the door. "Leave me be."
"I was planning on it, just here to do a little sweeping," Ianto replied, looking down at the floor. The shattered remains of a silver mirror littered the floor, shards catching the sun. The heavy metal frame had left a dent in the door. "Another one?" he sighed.
Ianto carefully tiptoed around the broken glass, moving towards the corner of the room. Lumic had taken to throwing temper tantrums, so the maids kept a broom in his room. He grabbed a small glass jar off a shelf by his old worktable, stocked full of basic magic equipment for Lumic to use when -- and if -- he chose to. Knowing full-well that he was being watched, Ianto carefully swept up all the pieces and put the shattered bits into the jar. He stoppered the jar, smiling a little as the pieces chimed together musically and moved to set the trinket in the windowsill, next to a similar jar.
"Why do you do that?" Lumic finally broke his silence to ask.
"When you break a mirror, you get bad luck, right?" Ianto spun around and smiled at the man in the bed. "So to deflect that bad luck, you gather up the pieces and put it in the window. Sunlight burns the bad luck incurred away and reflects bad thoughts people project at you."
"Is that one of those spells of yours?" Ianto could practically hear the disdain rolling off Lumic's tongue. The man's face was finally showing an emotion other than impassiveness -- disgust.
It took Ianto a moment to find his voice to reply. "... No," he finally managed. "Just a little superstition I learned from my Mam." He leaned against the windowsill, tilting his head to the side. "But there might be some truth behind it," he admitted. "A lot of magic is -- literally -- in your head. You have to know the mechanics and how to make it work, but visualization is a key part to all magic."
Lumic snorted. "Magic. If you can do magic, then why am I still like this?"
"Because, deep down, you don't want to be Healed," Ianto said slowly. Suddenly, something clicked inside his head. "... You think you deserve this. Don't you?"
"I killed a royal," Lumic replied.
"So did I."
"You were protecting another royal."
"So were you." Ianto sighed. "We're servants to the Queen. We did what was right."
Lumic just turned his head away again.
"There's more to that than just that." Ianto crossed his arms. "You... What, you hate yourself?"
"I'm... I'm wrong." Even though the Mage couldn't see the man's face, he knew that Lumic was close to tears. His voice trembled as he continued. "I mean -- I'm just -- "
Ianto was aghast. "No. No you're not. You have a gift! A wonderful one."
"I'm a monster!" Lumic roared, thrashing on the bed to glare at Ianto. "Just like my uncle was."
"Your uncle was a Mage?"
Lumic snorted. "Hocus-pocus magic user bullshit. He played Healer with herbs and tonics and things like that. They just made you sicker."
"Sometimes the cure makes you feel worse before it makes you feel better," Ianto defended. "Your body has to purge itself of what ails it -- "
"Whatever," Lumic retorted, cutting Ianto off. "That's what he said. We put a stop to that shortly."
The ice in the bedridden man's voice made Ianto shiver despite the hot sun on his back. "What happened... What did you do to him?"
"We did what you do with all mad animals," Lumic told him. "We put him down."
-----
"I don't get it," Ianto said yet again, shaking his head. "He hates himself."
"Upbringing is a very important part of making people," Jack told him. "If you've heard that a certain type of people are evil over and over again, then you'll believe it."
"It's like he's under a spell," the Second said, flopping back on the mattress and enjoying the bounce it made under his back.
"For all intents and purposes, he is." Jack grunted as he pulled his feet out of his boots, setting them at the edge of the bed. "Words hold a power in them that even non-magic types can tap into." He turned and leaned over Ianto, hands on either side of the younger man. "The right words, strung together in the right order with the right inflection... You can make people burst into laughter. Or into tears."
"So how do we break it?" Ianto asked.
"It'll break itself," Jack said. "Either our words and attitude about magic will penetrate and Lumic will come around, or he'll self-destruct."
"Then he'll self-destruct," Ianto said matter-of-factly.
Jack shrugged. "The choice is ultimately his to make."
"How can you be so black and white about this?" Ianto asked, shaking his head as he gazed up at his lover. "Don't you care about what happens to him?"
The Time Lord touched his cheek gently, smiling sadly down at him. "Oh, Ianto. Of course I care." He leaned in and carefully brushed his lips against Ianto's. "But sometimes people are just... broken. You can't fix them, no matter how much you try to help." The hand resting on his cheek swept down to rest against the side of his neck, the pad of Jack's thumb pressing lightly against the pulse point. "They have to fix themselves."
Ianto sighed heavily. "I know. It's painful to watch, because I want to help."
"You'll figure out a way to help eventually," Jack reassured him. "You helped me."
Ianto smiled as Jack's mouth descended on his again. "I did?"
"Yeah," Jack murmured softly against his lips. "You reminded me about all the good things in life."
-----
In the end, Ianto did the one thing he never, ever thought he'd resort to.
He pulled a John Hart.
Martha let out a little surprised yelp when Ianto kicked in the door to Lumic's room, jumping to her feet and staring at him. "Ianto!"
"I've had it," Ianto said simply. "You're making yourself sicker by staying cooped up in here. So put on your dressing gown and get that arse in the chair, we're going outside."
"Like hell," Lumic snarled.
"Like you can fight me off in your condition," Ianto snapped back.
"Ianto!" Martha chastised.
"I am a highly trained soldier," Lumic said, his head lifting slightly.
"Then start acting like one instead of like a child hiding from a nightmare!" Ianto told him, hands on his hips.
In that instant, something seemed to click on Lumic's face and Ianto realized that they'd been going about this all wrong. Lumic didn't want sympathy or coddling, he wanted -- needed -- someone to be a leader and give him an order. He'd been a guard, not a ranking officer. Executing orders was what he was good at.
"... I'll get into the chair by myself," Lumic finally said.
"Damn straight you will," he said before turning on his heel and leaving the room to give the man a touch of modesty.
Owen, Jack, and Hart were standing in the hall, obviously listening in on what had happened. All three of them snapped off a sharp salute when Ianto glared at them, Hart and Owen's palm out in royal guard style while Jack's hand made a sharp blade just over his eyebrows. They fought to keep a serious look on their faces, but Ianto could tell it was a losing battle; they wanted nothing more than to burst into laughter at quiet Ianto Jones acting big and bad.
"Oh, piss off, the lot of you," Ianto said good naturedly, grinning when the others started laughing.
Chapter Twelve: Picking Up The Pieces
Date Written: 6/12/09
Rating: PG/K+
Word Count: 1,640
Fandom: Torchwood/Doctor Who
Characters/Pairings: Ianto/Jack, John Lumic (DW), Martha, Owen, John Hart (TW)
Spoilers: Doctor Who up through Season 04, Torchwood up through 02, Different Sort of Science and To Days To Come
Warnings: AU like whoa.
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, and an extra special thanks to everyone who voted for the Mageverse over at the Children of Time Awards! I know you've been waiting, but the muses are starting wake back up!Previous chapters found here.
Book cover by
cjharknessgirl"Excellent! Then lets begin!"
-- John Lumic, The Age of Steel
"I said get out!"
Jack bolted out of the room, flinching when something glass shattered against the closed door behind him. He took a deep breath and leaned back against the wooden barrier, looking at Ianto.
Ianto, in turn, sighed. "I hope that wasn't as expensive as it sounded. Like a mirror."
"Like he could stand any more bad luck," Jack grumbled, letting his head fall back against the door.
"Be patient," the Welshman soothed. "He's still grieving."
"It's not like he died."
Ianto shook his head. "The man he used to be died. He has to mourn the loss of that old life, accept what has happened and move on from it."
"We could fix him, if he'd let us." The pain was nearly palpable in Jack's voice. He was so like his parents; wanting to make everything better but knowing that people had to make their own choices to help themselves.
Ianto smiled and reached across for Jack's hand, soothing his lover's frustration. "Sometimes you can't patch up something when it's so completely broken."
Jack just shook his head. "You try."
"I already have. He won't say two words to me."
"Try again." Jack squeezed his hand. "He needs us, Ianto."
The Mage nodded after a moment, letting go of Jack's hand. His lover moved away from the door and Ianto carefully opened it, peeking into the room that had been his when he first arrived at Torchwood House.
Lumic was lying on the bed, his face turned away from the door. The way the sun was streaming in through the window and washing over the form in the bed, the man looked even sicker than he had when he'd first arrived. He was about as white as the linen he was wrapped in and the light playing across his face made his loose skin show even more, shadows crossing his skin. Next to his bed was yet another untouched meal, a bowl of beef stew and a loaf of bread balanced on a tray on the bedside table.
"I said get out," Lumic said, not even bothering to look over at the door. "Leave me be."
"I was planning on it, just here to do a little sweeping," Ianto replied, looking down at the floor. The shattered remains of a silver mirror littered the floor, shards catching the sun. The heavy metal frame had left a dent in the door. "Another one?" he sighed.
Ianto carefully tiptoed around the broken glass, moving towards the corner of the room. Lumic had taken to throwing temper tantrums, so the maids kept a broom in his room. He grabbed a small glass jar off a shelf by his old worktable, stocked full of basic magic equipment for Lumic to use when -- and if -- he chose to. Knowing full-well that he was being watched, Ianto carefully swept up all the pieces and put the shattered bits into the jar. He stoppered the jar, smiling a little as the pieces chimed together musically and moved to set the trinket in the windowsill, next to a similar jar.
"Why do you do that?" Lumic finally broke his silence to ask.
"When you break a mirror, you get bad luck, right?" Ianto spun around and smiled at the man in the bed. "So to deflect that bad luck, you gather up the pieces and put it in the window. Sunlight burns the bad luck incurred away and reflects bad thoughts people project at you."
"Is that one of those spells of yours?" Ianto could practically hear the disdain rolling off Lumic's tongue. The man's face was finally showing an emotion other than impassiveness -- disgust.
It took Ianto a moment to find his voice to reply. "... No," he finally managed. "Just a little superstition I learned from my Mam." He leaned against the windowsill, tilting his head to the side. "But there might be some truth behind it," he admitted. "A lot of magic is -- literally -- in your head. You have to know the mechanics and how to make it work, but visualization is a key part to all magic."
Lumic snorted. "Magic. If you can do magic, then why am I still like this?"
"Because, deep down, you don't want to be Healed," Ianto said slowly. Suddenly, something clicked inside his head. "... You think you deserve this. Don't you?"
"I killed a royal," Lumic replied.
"So did I."
"You were protecting another royal."
"So were you." Ianto sighed. "We're servants to the Queen. We did what was right."
Lumic just turned his head away again.
"There's more to that than just that." Ianto crossed his arms. "You... What, you hate yourself?"
"I'm... I'm wrong." Even though the Mage couldn't see the man's face, he knew that Lumic was close to tears. His voice trembled as he continued. "I mean -- I'm just -- "
Ianto was aghast. "No. No you're not. You have a gift! A wonderful one."
"I'm a monster!" Lumic roared, thrashing on the bed to glare at Ianto. "Just like my uncle was."
"Your uncle was a Mage?"
Lumic snorted. "Hocus-pocus magic user bullshit. He played Healer with herbs and tonics and things like that. They just made you sicker."
"Sometimes the cure makes you feel worse before it makes you feel better," Ianto defended. "Your body has to purge itself of what ails it -- "
"Whatever," Lumic retorted, cutting Ianto off. "That's what he said. We put a stop to that shortly."
The ice in the bedridden man's voice made Ianto shiver despite the hot sun on his back. "What happened... What did you do to him?"
"We did what you do with all mad animals," Lumic told him. "We put him down."
-----
"I don't get it," Ianto said yet again, shaking his head. "He hates himself."
"Upbringing is a very important part of making people," Jack told him. "If you've heard that a certain type of people are evil over and over again, then you'll believe it."
"It's like he's under a spell," the Second said, flopping back on the mattress and enjoying the bounce it made under his back.
"For all intents and purposes, he is." Jack grunted as he pulled his feet out of his boots, setting them at the edge of the bed. "Words hold a power in them that even non-magic types can tap into." He turned and leaned over Ianto, hands on either side of the younger man. "The right words, strung together in the right order with the right inflection... You can make people burst into laughter. Or into tears."
"So how do we break it?" Ianto asked.
"It'll break itself," Jack said. "Either our words and attitude about magic will penetrate and Lumic will come around, or he'll self-destruct."
"Then he'll self-destruct," Ianto said matter-of-factly.
Jack shrugged. "The choice is ultimately his to make."
"How can you be so black and white about this?" Ianto asked, shaking his head as he gazed up at his lover. "Don't you care about what happens to him?"
The Time Lord touched his cheek gently, smiling sadly down at him. "Oh, Ianto. Of course I care." He leaned in and carefully brushed his lips against Ianto's. "But sometimes people are just... broken. You can't fix them, no matter how much you try to help." The hand resting on his cheek swept down to rest against the side of his neck, the pad of Jack's thumb pressing lightly against the pulse point. "They have to fix themselves."
Ianto sighed heavily. "I know. It's painful to watch, because I want to help."
"You'll figure out a way to help eventually," Jack reassured him. "You helped me."
Ianto smiled as Jack's mouth descended on his again. "I did?"
"Yeah," Jack murmured softly against his lips. "You reminded me about all the good things in life."
-----
In the end, Ianto did the one thing he never, ever thought he'd resort to.
He pulled a John Hart.
Martha let out a little surprised yelp when Ianto kicked in the door to Lumic's room, jumping to her feet and staring at him. "Ianto!"
"I've had it," Ianto said simply. "You're making yourself sicker by staying cooped up in here. So put on your dressing gown and get that arse in the chair, we're going outside."
"Like hell," Lumic snarled.
"Like you can fight me off in your condition," Ianto snapped back.
"Ianto!" Martha chastised.
"I am a highly trained soldier," Lumic said, his head lifting slightly.
"Then start acting like one instead of like a child hiding from a nightmare!" Ianto told him, hands on his hips.
In that instant, something seemed to click on Lumic's face and Ianto realized that they'd been going about this all wrong. Lumic didn't want sympathy or coddling, he wanted -- needed -- someone to be a leader and give him an order. He'd been a guard, not a ranking officer. Executing orders was what he was good at.
"... I'll get into the chair by myself," Lumic finally said.
"Damn straight you will," he said before turning on his heel and leaving the room to give the man a touch of modesty.
Owen, Jack, and Hart were standing in the hall, obviously listening in on what had happened. All three of them snapped off a sharp salute when Ianto glared at them, Hart and Owen's palm out in royal guard style while Jack's hand made a sharp blade just over his eyebrows. They fought to keep a serious look on their faces, but Ianto could tell it was a losing battle; they wanted nothing more than to burst into laughter at quiet Ianto Jones acting big and bad.
"Oh, piss off, the lot of you," Ianto said good naturedly, grinning when the others started laughing.