New Story: Right Kind
Sep. 24th, 2010 09:57 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
aigeallgoodTitle: Right Kind
Author: Aigeallgood/Aige09
Rating: PG
Summary: Woken in the middle of the night, Ianto can’t help but reflect.
Pairing(s): Jack/Ianto
Warning: Mentions of past character death.
Spoilers: None.
Author’s Notes: For Teachwriteslash.
It’s just gone three in the morning when Ianto hears the cry. He’s out of bed in a flash, fumbling for the pyjama bottoms that he knows are somewhere on the floor, courtesy of Jack. Muttering darkly under his breath about Captains who don’t understand the value of looking after clothes unless they are RAF greatcoats, he pulls them on, stumbling as he tries to walk while still pulling them up. He spares a look for Jack as he leaves the room, glancing back to see that he’s sprawled himself over the bed, taking over the space Ianto has just left. Dominic very rarely cries at night. He doesn’t sleep right through, not yet, he’s still too young, but it’s still very rare that he cries. Sometimes Ianto wakes up in the morning to an empty bed, and when he goes in to check on Dom he finds Jack there, holding Dominic as he sits in the chair by the window. He’d asked once, and Jack had told him that he’d heard Dom cry, didn’t want him to wake Ianto, and had gone in to him instead. Ianto thinks that Jack’s just trying to spend as much time as possible with Dom, since he doesn’t get to have Dom with him all day as he does.
Dominic’s lying still in his crib, his whole body rigid as he howls, when Ianto enters the room. ‘Hey little man,’ Ianto soothes as he picks the baby up, supporting his head in the crook of one arm, checking with the other hand as to the state of his nappy. He’s dry, and Ianto’s hand travels around to rub over the small belly, tracing small circles. His fingers trace up from Dom’s belly to his face. He turns his hand to rest the back of his hand on the small forehead, fear rising in his gut, twisting low. His skin, however, is cool, although warmth seeps into Ianto’s hand as he rests it there. Not a fever then. He lets out a breath he wasn’t holding, wasn’t keeping in through fear. ‘What do you want, hm?’ Ianto says to him, keeping his voice low, and hopefully soothing. He can still remember the first time he held Dominic; terrified he was going to drop the small body, Jack having to help him support the head. It’s ironic, really, that he’s terrified of a baby. Someone so small, someone who couldn’t even hurt him if they tried, but he’s still terrified that one day someone will look at him and say he’s not fit to be a father, that he can’t cope with this. He relaxes his shoulders; finally realising they are hunched, curling Dominic in towards him. One of Dominic’s hands has reached out to his chest, fingers curling through the hair there. ‘You like that,’ Ianto says to him, relief climbing as Dom’s crying lessens down to small sobs, though they still sound uncomfortable.
What else is there? He wonders, as he looks down at his son. He doesn’t need to be changed and he isn’t sick. He looks about the small room, seeing all the changes made to it. The lights aren’t on, but it doesn’t matter, it’s been a long time since Ianto needed to be able to see where he was going in here. He knows where everything is, each piece of furniture, the paintings on the walls, the doors to the wardrobe. Dom’s dummy catches his eye, although Ianto can’t, for the life of him, remember if Dom is allowed to use it. He slips a finger into Dom’s mouth instead, smiling amusedly as Dom begins sucking on it. The realisation slaps him about the head, surprising him with its force. He’s hungry. Shifting Dom up to his shoulder, he takes him out to the kitchen, leaving the lights off. It’s much harder to settle Dom once he’s been woken up if the lights are on. ‘Your tad’s such a twpsyn,’ he tells him, one hand already reaching for the bottle he knows is in the fridge somewhere. ‘Couldn’t even work out you were hungry. Lucky you’ve got your dad to do that too, isn’t it? You might never get fed otherwise.’ Dominic’s settled since they came out into the kitchen, his face pressed into Ianto’s neck, fingers tangling in the short hairs at the back of Ianto’s head. They’re getting a bit long and Ianto makes a mental note to get them cut. Jack likes it this length though, since they curl when Ianto’s just got out of the shower. He looks at the bottle warmer, sitting in pride of place on the bench, and so far, unused by him. It was a gift from Gwen, and although Ianto’s read all the books and they all say this is a safer way to heat formula, he can’t quite bring himself to use it. Owen certainly hasn’t said anything to him any of the times he’s caught Ianto using the microwave in the Hub. Jack uses it, but it’s different for Jack, who has lost so many more people than Ianto has. He just gets on with the job while Ianto, Ianto sinks into memory, seeing Gwen’s face as they told her they were having a baby, seeing the look on her face when she met Dominic for the first time. She wasn’t supposed to die, she had so much more to live for. He slaps himself mentally, putting the bottle in the microwave and putting it on for a couple of minutes. Dominic’s nails scratch his shoulder, sharp and clutching. He adds it to his list of things to do when he has time.
Beep beep beep. Not for the first time Ianto considers taking apart the microwave and removing the bell. What use is it getting up so that Jack can sleep if the bloody microwave is just going to wake him up? He tests the milk on his wrist like he watched his brother do when Brenna was born. He has to shift Dom to his other shoulder so he can use the unscarred wrist. He’s tried it before on that one, and he couldn’t feel it at all. Jack nearly had a fit when he saw he’d burned his already damaged wrist.
Dom latches on eagerly and Ianto wanders back through into his room. He sits in the chair, looking down at his son. His son. His chest tightens when he thinks about how close they came to not having him. Despite claiming to know everything, something he really only did to amuse Jack and annoy Owen, he hadn’t expected Jack to tell him he could get pregnant. He smiles, watching Dom drink, at how he reacted. It had taken him a moment to remember that it didn’t matter, would never matter. He couldn’t get Jack pregnant, he couldn’t get anyone pregnant.
‘I could do it,’ she says.
He looks at her in surprise, ‘What?’
‘I could do it,’ she repeats, ‘I could have a baby for you and Jack.’ He starts to object but she cuts him off, ‘Think about it Ianto. You wanted a baby that was a part of you and Jack. We’re twins Ianto; my genes are your genes. Let me do this for you. I want to do this for you.’
He laughs then bows his head, ‘Alright. I’ll talk to Jack.’
Jack is surprisingly pleased with Addie’s offer. He doesn’t even blink before saying, ‘Okay, let’s do it.’
‘It’s fine,’ he replies, ‘I’ll tell Jack.’
He watches with a clinical eye, one hand firmly grasping Addie’s. It still doesn’t seem quite real to him.
‘Oh, that’s cold,’ she gasps, when the cold gel is spread on her belly, her hand tightening around his, bringing him back a little. Her belly is only slightly rounded, barely noticeable even to him.
‘Right,’ the clinician says, ‘We’ve got quite a good view here.’ She gestures to the top of the screen, ‘This here is the head, and all the fingers and toes appear to be there. Do you want to know the sex?’
‘No,’ Jack says, and Ianto merely nods dumbly, a baby, a real baby.
Addie flees to the loo, and Jack takes Ianto’s hand, ‘Just sunk in, huh?’
Ianto just nods.
They rush there, Jack barking orders at orderlies and flustering nurses in a way that would normally make Ianto bite back a smile, but today he can’t even manage that. She’s only in her second trimester, and Ianto’s just been waiting for the axe to fall, the baby needs a couple more weeks before it-he-she-they are likely to survive being born, even with help from Torchwood.
James meets them at the door, explaining what happened, ‘She just collapsed. One minute she was talking to me, making herself a sandwich, and the next she was on the floor.’
She looks fine when Ianto’s finally allowed in to see her. She’s sitting up in the bed, her legs crossed under her swollen belly. ‘I’m alright,’ she soothes, as he hugs her, ‘just a little dehydrated.’
Jack comes in then, followed by the doctor. He sits on the bed, holding Ianto’s hand as well as Addie’s.
‘You’re going to be fine,’ the doctor begins, ‘Your iron levels are a little low for your needs, and you were also a bit dehydrated, but other than that your pregnancy is progressing well, and the baby looks fine.’
Jack’s hand relaxes about his, and he can feel Addie’s relief from behind him.
Jack squeezes his hand before going to stand by the bed, taking the baby from her arms. ‘Hello, little man, I’m so pleased to meet you.’ He turns to Ianto, still frozen in the doorway, ‘Come on Ianto, come meet our son.’
‘Hi,’ Ianto breathes, looking down at the tiny face in Jack’s arms. Addie smiles as he puts out a hand to touch the baby, their baby, his baby, ‘Hey little man.’
‘Do you want to hold him?’ Jack asks, his smile wide.
‘Yes.’ And Jack’s showing him how to hold him, holding him gently, so gently, supporting his head. When he’s finally holding his son, Jack’s smile is so wide Ianto worries his face might crack.
‘I...’ Ianto’s at a loss. He’s spent so much time preparing for this baby, but he’s forgotten to even think about names, ‘I don’t know,’ he confesses finally, ‘I hadn’t even thought about it.’
‘Dominic,’ Jack says. He’s holding their son, tiny face tucked into the crook of his neck as he sleeps. ‘Dominic Emrys Harkness-Jones.’
‘Harkness-Jones?’ Ianto repeats.
‘You don’t mind?’ Jack asks, worry creasing his face. ‘I just wanted him to have something of yours.’ He leaves it unspoken, the idea that Ianto’s life is likely to be cut short, that neither of them know how long it might be. Jack’s hand reaches out for and finds his and he squeezes it reassuringly.
‘I don’t mind,’ Ianto replies and for the first time in a long time, everything is alright.
‘I know,’ Ianto says, raising Dom up for Jack to take him, ‘I wanted to do it.’
Jack smiles, putting Dom on his shoulder, rubbing his back gently to burp him. It’s something Ianto hasn’t managed to master, although he can do everything else blindfolded. Truthfully, he doesn’t really want to master it, because Jack always looks so happy to see them when Ianto brings Dom into him after a bottle. ‘Do you want to go back to bed? I can finish up here. You could get a bit more sleep.’
‘Doesn’t matter,’ Ianto tells him, smiling at the sudden smile he gets from Jack.
Author: Aigeallgood/Aige09
Rating: PG
Summary: Woken in the middle of the night, Ianto can’t help but reflect.
Pairing(s): Jack/Ianto
Warning: Mentions of past character death.
Spoilers: None.
Author’s Notes: For Teachwriteslash.
Also the first piece of fanfiction I have posted.
Disclaimer: I do not own Jack, Ianto, Tosh, Owen and Gwen. I’m just borrowing them. Torchwood is the property of BBC and Russell T Davies. I do however own Dominic, Addie, Kynan and James, and they should not be used without my permission.It’s just gone three in the morning when Ianto hears the cry. He’s out of bed in a flash, fumbling for the pyjama bottoms that he knows are somewhere on the floor, courtesy of Jack. Muttering darkly under his breath about Captains who don’t understand the value of looking after clothes unless they are RAF greatcoats, he pulls them on, stumbling as he tries to walk while still pulling them up. He spares a look for Jack as he leaves the room, glancing back to see that he’s sprawled himself over the bed, taking over the space Ianto has just left. Dominic very rarely cries at night. He doesn’t sleep right through, not yet, he’s still too young, but it’s still very rare that he cries. Sometimes Ianto wakes up in the morning to an empty bed, and when he goes in to check on Dom he finds Jack there, holding Dominic as he sits in the chair by the window. He’d asked once, and Jack had told him that he’d heard Dom cry, didn’t want him to wake Ianto, and had gone in to him instead. Ianto thinks that Jack’s just trying to spend as much time as possible with Dom, since he doesn’t get to have Dom with him all day as he does.
Dominic’s lying still in his crib, his whole body rigid as he howls, when Ianto enters the room. ‘Hey little man,’ Ianto soothes as he picks the baby up, supporting his head in the crook of one arm, checking with the other hand as to the state of his nappy. He’s dry, and Ianto’s hand travels around to rub over the small belly, tracing small circles. His fingers trace up from Dom’s belly to his face. He turns his hand to rest the back of his hand on the small forehead, fear rising in his gut, twisting low. His skin, however, is cool, although warmth seeps into Ianto’s hand as he rests it there. Not a fever then. He lets out a breath he wasn’t holding, wasn’t keeping in through fear. ‘What do you want, hm?’ Ianto says to him, keeping his voice low, and hopefully soothing. He can still remember the first time he held Dominic; terrified he was going to drop the small body, Jack having to help him support the head. It’s ironic, really, that he’s terrified of a baby. Someone so small, someone who couldn’t even hurt him if they tried, but he’s still terrified that one day someone will look at him and say he’s not fit to be a father, that he can’t cope with this. He relaxes his shoulders; finally realising they are hunched, curling Dominic in towards him. One of Dominic’s hands has reached out to his chest, fingers curling through the hair there. ‘You like that,’ Ianto says to him, relief climbing as Dom’s crying lessens down to small sobs, though they still sound uncomfortable.
What else is there? He wonders, as he looks down at his son. He doesn’t need to be changed and he isn’t sick. He looks about the small room, seeing all the changes made to it. The lights aren’t on, but it doesn’t matter, it’s been a long time since Ianto needed to be able to see where he was going in here. He knows where everything is, each piece of furniture, the paintings on the walls, the doors to the wardrobe. Dom’s dummy catches his eye, although Ianto can’t, for the life of him, remember if Dom is allowed to use it. He slips a finger into Dom’s mouth instead, smiling amusedly as Dom begins sucking on it. The realisation slaps him about the head, surprising him with its force. He’s hungry. Shifting Dom up to his shoulder, he takes him out to the kitchen, leaving the lights off. It’s much harder to settle Dom once he’s been woken up if the lights are on. ‘Your tad’s such a twpsyn,’ he tells him, one hand already reaching for the bottle he knows is in the fridge somewhere. ‘Couldn’t even work out you were hungry. Lucky you’ve got your dad to do that too, isn’t it? You might never get fed otherwise.’ Dominic’s settled since they came out into the kitchen, his face pressed into Ianto’s neck, fingers tangling in the short hairs at the back of Ianto’s head. They’re getting a bit long and Ianto makes a mental note to get them cut. Jack likes it this length though, since they curl when Ianto’s just got out of the shower. He looks at the bottle warmer, sitting in pride of place on the bench, and so far, unused by him. It was a gift from Gwen, and although Ianto’s read all the books and they all say this is a safer way to heat formula, he can’t quite bring himself to use it. Owen certainly hasn’t said anything to him any of the times he’s caught Ianto using the microwave in the Hub. Jack uses it, but it’s different for Jack, who has lost so many more people than Ianto has. He just gets on with the job while Ianto, Ianto sinks into memory, seeing Gwen’s face as they told her they were having a baby, seeing the look on her face when she met Dominic for the first time. She wasn’t supposed to die, she had so much more to live for. He slaps himself mentally, putting the bottle in the microwave and putting it on for a couple of minutes. Dominic’s nails scratch his shoulder, sharp and clutching. He adds it to his list of things to do when he has time.
Beep beep beep. Not for the first time Ianto considers taking apart the microwave and removing the bell. What use is it getting up so that Jack can sleep if the bloody microwave is just going to wake him up? He tests the milk on his wrist like he watched his brother do when Brenna was born. He has to shift Dom to his other shoulder so he can use the unscarred wrist. He’s tried it before on that one, and he couldn’t feel it at all. Jack nearly had a fit when he saw he’d burned his already damaged wrist.
Dom latches on eagerly and Ianto wanders back through into his room. He sits in the chair, looking down at his son. His son. His chest tightens when he thinks about how close they came to not having him. Despite claiming to know everything, something he really only did to amuse Jack and annoy Owen, he hadn’t expected Jack to tell him he could get pregnant. He smiles, watching Dom drink, at how he reacted. It had taken him a moment to remember that it didn’t matter, would never matter. He couldn’t get Jack pregnant, he couldn’t get anyone pregnant.
*********
*********
‘I could do it,’ she says.
He looks at her in surprise, ‘What?’
‘I could do it,’ she repeats, ‘I could have a baby for you and Jack.’ He starts to object but she cuts him off, ‘Think about it Ianto. You wanted a baby that was a part of you and Jack. We’re twins Ianto; my genes are your genes. Let me do this for you. I want to do this for you.’
He laughs then bows his head, ‘Alright. I’ll talk to Jack.’
Jack is surprisingly pleased with Addie’s offer. He doesn’t even blink before saying, ‘Okay, let’s do it.’
*********
‘It’s fine,’ he replies, ‘I’ll tell Jack.’
He watches with a clinical eye, one hand firmly grasping Addie’s. It still doesn’t seem quite real to him.
‘Oh, that’s cold,’ she gasps, when the cold gel is spread on her belly, her hand tightening around his, bringing him back a little. Her belly is only slightly rounded, barely noticeable even to him.
‘Right,’ the clinician says, ‘We’ve got quite a good view here.’ She gestures to the top of the screen, ‘This here is the head, and all the fingers and toes appear to be there. Do you want to know the sex?’
‘No,’ Jack says, and Ianto merely nods dumbly, a baby, a real baby.
Addie flees to the loo, and Jack takes Ianto’s hand, ‘Just sunk in, huh?’
Ianto just nods.
*********
They rush there, Jack barking orders at orderlies and flustering nurses in a way that would normally make Ianto bite back a smile, but today he can’t even manage that. She’s only in her second trimester, and Ianto’s just been waiting for the axe to fall, the baby needs a couple more weeks before it-he-she-they are likely to survive being born, even with help from Torchwood.
James meets them at the door, explaining what happened, ‘She just collapsed. One minute she was talking to me, making herself a sandwich, and the next she was on the floor.’
She looks fine when Ianto’s finally allowed in to see her. She’s sitting up in the bed, her legs crossed under her swollen belly. ‘I’m alright,’ she soothes, as he hugs her, ‘just a little dehydrated.’
Jack comes in then, followed by the doctor. He sits on the bed, holding Ianto’s hand as well as Addie’s.
‘You’re going to be fine,’ the doctor begins, ‘Your iron levels are a little low for your needs, and you were also a bit dehydrated, but other than that your pregnancy is progressing well, and the baby looks fine.’
Jack’s hand relaxes about his, and he can feel Addie’s relief from behind him.
*********
Jack squeezes his hand before going to stand by the bed, taking the baby from her arms. ‘Hello, little man, I’m so pleased to meet you.’ He turns to Ianto, still frozen in the doorway, ‘Come on Ianto, come meet our son.’
‘Hi,’ Ianto breathes, looking down at the tiny face in Jack’s arms. Addie smiles as he puts out a hand to touch the baby, their baby, his baby, ‘Hey little man.’
‘Do you want to hold him?’ Jack asks, his smile wide.
‘Yes.’ And Jack’s showing him how to hold him, holding him gently, so gently, supporting his head. When he’s finally holding his son, Jack’s smile is so wide Ianto worries his face might crack.
*********
‘I...’ Ianto’s at a loss. He’s spent so much time preparing for this baby, but he’s forgotten to even think about names, ‘I don’t know,’ he confesses finally, ‘I hadn’t even thought about it.’
‘Dominic,’ Jack says. He’s holding their son, tiny face tucked into the crook of his neck as he sleeps. ‘Dominic Emrys Harkness-Jones.’
‘Harkness-Jones?’ Ianto repeats.
‘You don’t mind?’ Jack asks, worry creasing his face. ‘I just wanted him to have something of yours.’ He leaves it unspoken, the idea that Ianto’s life is likely to be cut short, that neither of them know how long it might be. Jack’s hand reaches out for and finds his and he squeezes it reassuringly.
‘I don’t mind,’ Ianto replies and for the first time in a long time, everything is alright.
*********
‘I know,’ Ianto says, raising Dom up for Jack to take him, ‘I wanted to do it.’
Jack smiles, putting Dom on his shoulder, rubbing his back gently to burp him. It’s something Ianto hasn’t managed to master, although he can do everything else blindfolded. Truthfully, he doesn’t really want to master it, because Jack always looks so happy to see them when Ianto brings Dom into him after a bottle. ‘Do you want to go back to bed? I can finish up here. You could get a bit more sleep.’
‘Doesn’t matter,’ Ianto tells him, smiling at the sudden smile he gets from Jack.
