Archive of Our Own

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So I exorcised some demons with "Confrontations Forgiven In A Heartbeat" and those were exorcised even further when I saw 805belladonna's fic this morning : "She's Wrong" - if you haven't read it - you definitely should it's brilliant. A very excellent Post-Meat Fic.

Anyway, I mentioned that there were other episodes that made me want to exorcise some demons, Countrycide being one of them. morgiamentioned that Ianto is always strong and stoic and never breaks down, especially in front of other people and that sometime she would like to see him lose control, break down. She has also been lamenting the lack of Strong!Ianto in fic and the overabundance of smut :) So, I took those suggestions and ran with them and this is what came about.

I don't think I've fully exorcised my Countrycide demons so you may see another post-Countrycide fic from me in the future. But for now, I'm happy. This is actually a series of Post-fics spanning from Countrycide to Out of Time. I started with one image in my head - the scene with Ianto in the shower and the ending came about as I wrote and kind of brought things full circle. so I hope you read and enjoy and leave comments...as always I would appreciate it. Thanks!

Title: The Masks We Wear

Author: Thrace_adams

Word Count: 11,212 – This Chapter 2894

Date: January 2009

Spoilers: Episode 1x6 Countrycide – Episode 1x10 Out of Time, blink and you’ll miss them references to the end of Series One.

Pairing: Jack/Ianto, mentions of Gwen/Rhys, Gwen/Owen, Gwen/Jack (only in the very briefest of thoughts)

Warnings: Angst, mentions of m/m kissing and implied sexual situations – there is no emo!Ianto in this fic.

Rating: Very light R – for swearing, mentions of m/m kissing, sexual talk, and implied sexual situations

Summary: A series of episode tags told from Ianto’s POV focusing on his thoughts about the situations and on his relationship with Jack and how he progresses from hating his Captain and wanting him dead to propositioning him in just a few short weeks.

Disclaimers/Archive: I don’t own Torchwood, Captain Jack Harkness, or Ianto Jones. If I did there would be less talky talky and more kissy kissy. What you recognize belongs to RTD and the BBC, what you don’t belongs to me. I’m a full time Mom so you won’t make any money by suing me. May be archived at Wereleopard’s lair and at my LJ. All others please ask.

I want to thank

buttononthetop

for being my most esteemed beta and correcting my mistakes and helping me when I didn't quite know how to put my thoughts into words. *HUGS and SQUEEEEEE*

CHAPTER ONE - COUNTRYCIDE

Ianto sat in the boot of the SUV, hands on his knees, just staring off into space. People moved around him in a blur, he saw none of it. All he could feel was pain and all he could see was his own rage – rage at the cannibals for doing this, at Jack for bringing them out here in the first place, and rage at himself. He hung his head in defeat, how could he have been so careless as to have gotten caught?

He watched Jack and Gwen come out with the ring leader in tow. Bile rose up in his throat at the sense memory of the stench of the man’s rancid breath in his face. He spat on the ground as he remembered the taste of the filthy gag in his mouth and felt the sharp cold steel of the cleaver at his neck. Ianto rested his head in his hands, trying to stop the throbbing. Quickly, he glanced over at the ambulance wondering if he should have let them treat him after all. He knew what a concussion felt like and he was sure he had a pretty good one.

He looked up to see Jack and Owen staring off after Gwen. Bloody Gwen! Sure, she’d been shot with buckshot, but those fucking animals had almost bled him to death! He bit back a bitter laugh at the other two men, always thinking with their cocks.

“Hey.”

Ianto smiled at Tosh, grabbing her hand in his.

“We made it,” she said.

“Yup.”

“Are you sure you’re okay? Sure you don’t want them to take a look at you?”

Ianto nodded his head firmly.

“The last thing I want to do is spend the evening in A&E. All I want to do is go home, have a nice, long, hot shower, and then sit down on my couch with a drink.”

Tosh blushed a bit.

“Sounds nice.”

“You want to join me?”

Tosh threw him a shocked look and blushed even harder. When he realized what he’d said, Ianto felt the blush rise in his own face and started to stammer out a response.

“No, I mean, just, oh fuck, I meant just join me for a drink someplace.”

Tosh smiled that timid smile she always had, looked up at him through her eyelashes.

“I’d like that,” she said and then she frowned looking down at herself. “I look dreadful.”

She looked back up at him, an apologetic look on her face.

“Can we maybe do it another night?”

“Sure, I know I want to get cleaned up as soon as possible. Another night would be fine.”

They smiled tentatively at each other, looking away only when they heard Owen’s voice coming closer. Tosh moved away and settled herself carefully in the backseat of the SUV. Ianto looked up at the crunching of gravel just in time to see the leader being driven off grinning wildly in the back of the police cruiser. The rage that had started to drain away while he spoke with Tosh returned with a vengeance.

“Oi, Teaboy! You going to sit in the boot all day or can we get moving?”

He glared at Owen, almost having to physically restrain himself from punching the doctor. Gingerly, he stood up, his stiff joints screaming in protest, the throbbing returning to his head and he started to move toward the rear seat with Tosh.

“Ianto!”

He turned to look at Jack.

“Up front.”

Ianto sighed in resignation, not looking at Owen or Gwen even though he could feel both of them staring daggers at his back. Fortunately or unfortunately depending on how one looked at it, Jack explained his actions.

“Owen, see if you can’t help support Gwen enough that her wound isn’t jostled on the way back. I’ll do the best I can, but the roads are only so good.”

As Jack slid into the driver’s seat he glanced quickly over at Ianto.

“You okay?”

Ianto only nodded his response, not trusting his voice enough to hide his anger. He settled back into his seat, stretched his long legs out, closed his eyes and tried to forget the last twenty-four hours.

Several hours later he jolted awake when they dropped Gwen off at her flat. He looked around and realized that Tosh was already gone, leaving just himself, Jack, and Owen. The rage he’d been feeling before he’d fallen asleep was still rushing through his veins just boiling to be let out. But when Jack pulled the SUV into the garage he kept silent.

“Teaboy, autopsy bay in two minutes. I want to check you over.”

He started to protest but Owen interrupted him.

“I know the medics didn’t look you over so I’m going to and then I’m going out to see if I can get very drunk and shag someone senseless so move it.”

Ianto rolled his eyes but did as he was told and soon found himself sitting shirtless in the autopsy bay as Owen pushed and prodded his ribs. He knew Jack was leaning over the railing above watching them with a frown on his face. Ianto could feel his eyes boring into him and it made his blood boil even more.

“Does it hurt when you breathe?”

Ianto took a deep breath, bracing his ribs in anticipation of the pain and wincing uncontrollably when it came. When he exhaled he couldn’t help but grab his head as it started to throb again. The glance Owen gave Jack did not go unnoticed by Ianto, who continued to seethe silently, wishing he would just be allowed to go home and wallow in private.

“All right. Teaboy stays here –“

“What?”

“Look mate, you’ve got a concussion, three broken ribs, I suspect, a bruised lung, possibly some other bruised internal organs, and on top of that your face is completely messed up.”

Ianto rolled his eyes.

“So why does all that mean I have to stay?”

“Because your injuries are severe enough that you really need someone with you tonight. I’m not going home with you, the girls are already gone, and the Captain here won’t leave the Hub unattended. So here you stay.”

“Fine,” Ianto said coldly, putting his shirt back on.

His hands trembled as he buttoned up his shirt; he was practically shaking with pent-up anger. He glanced up at Jack.

“If you don’t need anything, I’m going to get cleaned up.”

When Jack didn’t answer right away, Ianto just nodded and left the autopsy bay heading for his locker where he kept a few changes of clothes. He grabbed some and made his way to the shower room. Quietly, he stripped off his clothes, leaving them in a pile, fully intending to burn them in the near future because he would never be wearing them again. He let the warm water run over him, watching it turn a rusty brown color. He winced as the water sluiced over his cuts. Gently, he ran his fingertips over the cut above his eye and the wound on his neck from the cleaver. He pounded his fist against the wall of the shower as another wave of frustration washed over him before resolutely starting to shampoo the grime out of his hair. He never noticed the green light of the CCTV camera as it rotated to fix on his position in the shower stall.

When the last of the soap was rinsed off, Ianto just stood there under the water, finally letting his rage take control and feeling his body shake with the intensity of it. He started to pound against the tile wall again, pound until his hands were tingling with pain and swollen from the pressure. He leaned his forehead against the cool tile and yelled out his anger. It never occurred to him to even wonder if Jack could hear him.

*******************

Jack watched Ianto over the CCTV wondering if he should go down and interrupt but he was sure Ianto wouldn’t appreciate it. So he sat and he watched and he hated himself just a bit more as each minute crawled by while Ianto pounded the walls of the shower stall.

*******************

When his hands hurt so badly he was afraid the next punch would break them, Ianto stopped. And that was when the tears started. That familiar hot rush behind his eyes, burst out unbidden to roll unchecked down the bruised skin of his cheeks. He pressed his forehead harder against the tile in a vain attempt to stop the sobs that were threatening to erupt from his chest. The rage bubbled and boiled inside him until no force in the universe could have stopped it as it came thundering out.

Ianto screamed his hands clenched in fists shaking with anger. Tears of rage burned paths down his cheeks. Somehow, he thought, somehow I should have stopped them. Never have let them get me or Tosh. Just like somehow I should have saved Lisa, never have let her get converted, never have let Jack shoot her.

He kicked the wall, pain blossoming through his foot, fueling his rage even further. Fucking prick was going to eat me! For God’s sake, who the fuck eats people? And that smug smile on his face, I wish I had just five more minutes alone in a room with that sick fuck, I’d wipe it right off. We’d see how tough the bastard was when his food didn’t have his hands tied behind his back or a baseball bat at his disposal.

Ianto turned around resting his back against the wall and pressing his bruised hands against his face trying to stop the tears streaming down his face and the throbbing in his head. His breath came in hitched gasps as he felt his anger slowly start to drain out of him from sheer exhaustion. He sank down the cool tile, sliding until his arse hit the floor. Drawing his knees to his chest, he wrapped his arms around them and rested his forehead against his arms. He felt the tears slow, thought maybe he could see the last one fall from the tip of his nose and he leaned back, resting his head against the tile. When the water started to cool he turned it off and got up, grateful that Jack hadn’t come looking for him. As he toweled off the green light of the CCTV camera again went unnoticed.

*********************

Jack sat at his desk wiping the last few tears off his own face as he watched his youngest team member dry off with an old gray towel. Watching Ianto break down over the CCTV had felt intensely private and intrusive but Jack couldn’t bring himself to turn it off. He felt he owed Ianto every bit of pain it caused him to watch it for what he’d been through during the last twenty-four hours. Of course Ianto would never know that he’d watched, it would embarrass him horribly, so Jack would never tell. But somehow, someway, Jack would make this up to him. This and Lisa. Jack had watched the monitor closely; he’d seen Ianto’s lips form her name in the midst of his misery. As the younger man finished putting his clothes on, Jack shut the feed down and tried to get back to the report he was supposed to have been working on.

**********************

Ianto made his way slowly back up into the Hub. He still had no idea where he was going to sleep. The little room he’d used while Lisa had been alive had been cleaned out during his suspension. He glanced over at the ratty brown couch and figured there was as good a place as any to crash. As he stood over it, trying to decide whether he wanted to get one of the sheets from the autopsy bay or not, a warm hand settled onto his shoulder and he stiffened.

Ianto wasn’t sure if Jack noticed the tension under his hand because he didn’t move it in the least.

“I’ve got a bed in my office. Why don’t you sleep there tonight?”

“Sir?”

Jack smiled tentatively at him.

“I don’t usually sleep much. You sleep down there tonight. I’ll work on that backlog of paperwork you want me to finish AND I can keep an eye and ear on you so Owen won’t come after me with one of his scalpels in the morning.”

Ianto couldn’t help the fleeting thought of wanting to go after Jack with a scalpel of his own, but then he smiled wanly.

“Well, if you’re sure, sir.”

“I’m sure, Ianto. You’re injured and you need your rest and that lumpy old sofa is never going to mean rest by any definition of the word.”

Ianto couldn’t help but chuckle. The Captain had actually made a joke and a non-sexual one at that.

“Well, then thank you. I appreciate it.”

He stood there staring at Jack.

“Oh,” Jack jumped, almost blushing, “Follow me.”

When Ianto reached the bottom of the ladder he looked around the small space. Small though it was, Jack had managed to make it appear homey. The bed was little more than a camping cot but there was a bedside table with a small lamp and a book lying on it. At the foot of the bed was a trunk, similar to one Ianto suspected they used in the military at boot camp. Beyond that up against the wall stood an old fashioned wardrobe. One of the doors was cracked open a bit and Ianto could just make out the cuffs of several blue shirts. The familiar smell of Jack permeated the room and almost assaulted his senses but somehow it was comforting.

Jack rocked back and forth on his heels nervously.

“Well, this is it; there really isn’t much to see. The sheets are clean, I changed them yesterday before we left. If you need anything, I’ll just be right up the ladder at my desk. Get some rest, Ianto.”

He smiled at Ianto, one of his gentle caring smiles, one that Ianto hadn’t seen in a very long time.

“Thank you, sir.”

He waited until Jack had climbed up the ladder before stripping down to his pants and sliding between the sheets. He inhaled deeply; even clean they still smelled like Jack. Some part of his brain wondered why that would comfort him when in reality he still felt like hating his Captain. After all, the man had killed the love of his life, even if he was finally starting to admit to himself that she had truly died at Canary Wharf and what he’d kept alive had just been a façade. Then because his beloved Captain had wanted him to have more experience in the field he’d almost been eaten by fucking cannibals.

Ianto could feel the anger no, the rage start to rise again and decided that he best stop that train of thought right there. Jack had no more idea that it was cannibals than any of the rest of them did. It wasn’t his fault and in the end he had come in saving the day in a hail of gunfire. In the darkness, Ianto couldn’t help but crack a small smile at Jack’s dramatic heroics.

He winced as he turned over on his side, only to turn onto his back a few moments later. The brute had really worked him over with the baseball bat, it’s a wonder he wasn’t injured more severely. He bit back a gasp as he tried to take a deep breath, biting his lip when he heard Jack pause in his writing up above. Ianto held his breath waiting for his Captain to say something, to ask if he was okay. When he didn’t, he settled back down under the covers, closed his eyes, and willed sleep to take him.

**********************

Jack sat at his desk, his pen scratching the paper, filling out the backlog of paperwork that Ianto had been after him to complete. He was having trouble concentrating because all he could see was Ianto curled into a sobbing ball on the floor of the shower. Jack had seen the moment the mask had slipped back into place and that was actually when his own tears had started. He finally saw what Ianto had been hiding from them all those months before they found out about Lisa. What they saw day in and day out around the Hub was nothing but a façade, built to hide the inner pain Ianto was feeling every single day.

He stopped writing for a moment when he heard a gasp come from his bed. He listened intently and when he heard nothing further he went back to his work. When he looked down at the completed report in his hand and saw the smug look on that man’s face as he told Gwen he did it because it made him happy, he knew what he had to do. It would take calling in a few favors and he couldn’t take care of it tonight because tonight he was supposed to be watching over Ianto. But the next night he was free he was going to do this and in his own private way he’d be taking care of Ianto then too.

TBC