Title: The Lost Son 1/17
Pairing: Pre-Jack/Ianto, Jack/OMC
Rating: Teen- dark themes, sexual mentions.
Spoilers: Mild for COE (background information)
Summary: “Children begin by loving their parents; as they grow older they judge them; sometimes they forgive them.” Oscar Wilde.
Disclaimers: I own nothing.
Notes: This is a sequel to Blue Moon’s Child. You might get a bit confused if you haven’t read that one before this one! I’ll be posting this once a day until it is finished. Special thanks go to czarina_kitty for being such a wonderful Beta. Comments please!
The shrilly buzzing alarm clock dragged Ianto into consciousness. He groaned and hid his head under the pillow. He didn’t want to get up. Getting up meant going to school.
There was a sharp rap on his door. “Ianto, get up! You’ll be late.”
Ianto groaned loudly. “Oh, go away, Rhi. I’m not going anywhere.”
Rhiannon, who was seventeen and getting more obnoxious every day, burst into his room. “Yes, you are. You’re not skiving off again.”
Ianto emerged from under his pillow and glared at her. “I’m not skiving. I don’t feel well.”
Rhiannon wagged her finger at him. “Get up right now or I’ll tell Da.”
Ianto pulled the quilt over his head. “The old man can’t do anything.”
Rhiannon turned back towards the door. “Da! Ianto won’t get up!”
Ianto groaned. “All right. I’m getting up. Go away.”
Rhiannon smirked at him. “If you’re not up in two minutes, you’ll catch it from Da.”
She turned her back and stormed out. Ianto stuck his finger up at her back. But he knew she was right. He really would catch it from Da if he tried skiving again. Being fourteen sucked.
He forced himself up and out of bed. He went for a shower, then got dressed in his uniform and put on his cross necklace. He’d packed his bag the night before, as was his habit. He could smell breakfast. It was sausages and scrambled egg. He wrinkled his nose. The smell was making him feel sick.
He didn’t want to go downstairs. He could hide up here until breakfast was over. He sat on his bed and picked up the blue orb which always stood on his bedside table. He’d always had it. It was special to him.
“Ianto, breakfast is ready!” his Da called up the stairs.
“I’m not hungry!” Ianto yelled back.
“I don’t care whether you’re hungry, boy. You get yourself down here right now.”
Ianto huffed. He grabbed his school bag and hesitated over the orb. After a second of thought, he hid it in his blazer pocket. He wanted it close to him.
He trudged downstairs to the kitchen and stood in the doorway. His Da and Rhiannon were sitting at the kitchen table, both in their uniforms. Rhiannon was in the simple black trousers and jumper for sixth form college and Da was in his uniform for work in the shop. They were both tucking into their sausage and egg. Ianto’s plate was waiting in his place for him.
Ianto looked at it. The sausages looked greasy and the egg seemed to congeal as he looked at it. “I’m not hungry,” he said.
Iestyn glared at him. “You sit down and eat, boy or you’ll find yourself grounded from now until Christmas.”
Ianto scowled but sat down. Rhiannon tutted at him, then went back to talking to Da. Ianto listened to them chat. They liked talking to each other. Neither of them liked talking to him.
He prodded his fat greasy sausage with his fork. It didn’t look appetising.
“Ianto, eat,” Da barked at him.
Ianto’s scowl deepened. He picked up his knife and began cutting his sausage into little bits. He pushed the egg around his plate.
“Have you got any exams today, Rhiannon?” Da asked.
“English literature today, Da.”
“You been revising, Cariad?”
Ianto huffed. “She does nothing but bloody revise.”
Da pointed a finger at him. “You mind your mouth, boy.”
Ianto pushed his chair back and stood up, grabbing his bag. “I’m going to school.”
“Thought I was driving you,” Iestyn called after him.
Ianto grabbed a handful of change from the bowl in the hall. “I’ll get the bus,” he called and slammed the front door shut behind him.
He knew they’d be complaining about him now but he didn’t care. He shoved his hands in his pockets and walked slowly towards the bus stop. He was early. He could catch the bus into Cardiff instead and bum around town. But he was in his uniform and, now that it was approaching summer, the truant officers were more vigilant for kids skipping school.
He couldn’t be bothered. He might as well go to school. At least it was something to do. He caught the bus, sitting on his own near the back. He stared out of the window, watching the buildings and the people as they drifted by.
He couldn’t wait to leave school. He wasn’t going to sixth form college like Rhiannon. He wasn’t even going to think about university. He was just going to finish school, then get the hell away from home. He couldn’t wait.
He got to the playground. There wasn’t anybody there yet. He really was early. The car park had a few cars in it. Teachers, probably. He wasn’t supposed to be in the school until 8:45 when it was time for registration. It was only 8:15 but he didn’t care. He sneaked inside and made his way through the quiet corridors and to the library.
He liked it here. Nobody ever really came in here, except maybe one or two of the sixth form students. He went directly to the science fiction section and found the book he’d been reading. Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? by Phillip K. Dick He sat on the floor with his legs tucked up underneath him and began to read.
Time just slipped away from him when he was reading. Everything slipped away from him when he was reading. He didn’t notice a single thing.
“You’re going to be late for Maths, Mister Jones,” said a voice above him.
Ianto started and looked up. There was Mister Williams, his maths teacher.
“Shit. What time is it?”
Mr Williams smiled. “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that swearword, Ianto. It’s five to nine. You’ve missed registration. I’ll expect to see you in my classroom in five minutes. Or I’ll give you extra maths as punishment,” he said and winked.
Ianto grinned and closed his book. “Yes, Sir.” He stood and slid the book back onto the shelf. “You’d better go too, Sir or you’ll be late and I’ll have to give you extra marking.”
Mr Williams laughed and turned. “Four minutes now, Mr Jones.”
Ianto liked Mr Williams. He was all right.
He got through the morning at school okay. After maths, there was science, which was all right. He’d learned back in year eight what happened if he answered questions so he kept his mouth shut, unless it was to crack a joke. If he was funny sometimes and kept his head down the rest of the time, he could survive.
He had P.E. in the afternoon and he was not keen to stay for that. So, at lunchtime, when the canteen was full of chattering students stuffing their faces, he sneaked out and made his way into Cardiff. He could hang out for a couple of hours round the shops, then catch his usual bus home.
He never got caught sneaking out. He knew the best corridors to go down, which gate to exit by and how to walk with confidence. As he walked, he put his hand in his pocket and held onto his blue orb. It was heavy and comforting in his hand. When he held it, it made him feel like he was remembering something. It made him think of walking by the sea with his mam. It made him think of being held, of being loved and protected. It reminded him of how he felt when reading, like he was discovering whole new worlds and new information.
He didn’t have any money but he wandered through the shops regardless. He wanted some new jeans but his Da said he had more than enough, especially while he had to wear his uniform five days a week.
He went into GAP. He loved the jeans in here but they were well out of his price range. He didn’t even have a fiver to spend. All he had was his bus money. He hesitated by a pair of dark blue skinny jeans. He ran his hand over them. He could just stick them in his school bag and run for it. He could run fast. That fat security guard would never catch him.
He eyed the security guard. He was fat and bound to be slow but…he did have muscles on him. If he did manage to catch Ianto, he might get rough with him. Ianto had no wish to be manhandled by a stranger. He had to admit to himself that he didn’t have the guts to nick something that big.
He left the jeans behind and left the shop. Maybe he could start with nicking sweets. Not to eat himself but to pass around the playground. He could get away with nicking sweets. He had done before. Nobody ever paid attention to the pick and mix.
He went into the newsagents. It was quiet, being early afternoon. A little old lady stood behind the counter. She smiled at him. There was pale pink lipstick on her dentures.
“Good afternoon, young man.”
Ianto fiddled awkwardly with the hem of his blazer. “Hi.”
“Shouldn’t you be in school, young man?”
Ianto restrained his scowl. Why did adults have to refer to him as ‘young man’ all the time? It made him feel about five years old. “I had a doctor’s appointment. No point in going back to school now.”
“So, you were a good boy at the doctors then? And now you’re getting rewarded with sweeties.”
He held back his wince and put on his friendliest smile. “Yeah. Something like that.” He glanced around and saw that the drawer of red laces was empty. “You out of red laces? They’re my favourites.” He kept smiling, attempting to look sweet and innocent.
She beamed at him. “I’ll go and look in the back for you, my love. Can’t have you going without.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
She bestowed another smile on him, then turned and went into the back. Ianto glanced around, just to make sure there were no cameras, then grabbed packets of Jelly Babies, chocolate éclairs and liquorice allsorts. He peered around the counter. She still wasn’t back. He stretched his hand behind the counter and grabbed three packets of Richmond cigarettes and a lighter, then turned and ran. He was well away before she returned.
He legged it down streets until he found himself alone in a deserted street. He stopped and leaned against the rough brick wall. His heart was pounding and thrills went through him. He felt on top of the world, like he could jump and shout. There was nothing like taking a risk and getting away with it.
He took out one of the packets of cigarettes. There was no one here to stop him. He slid open the cellophane wrapping and opened the top of the packet. He took out a cigarette and the lighter. He’d only smoked those two times when fags had been passed round the playground behind the teachers’ backs.
He lit it and inhaled deeply. The smoke went right inside him, pounding through his blood. It felt good. But strange. He put his free hand in his pocket and cupped the orb. As he puffed on his cigarette, he rubbed his thumb over the smooth surface. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the silence and the stillness.
As he stroked the orb, it began to feel warm. His thumb starting feeling hot. He took his hand out of his pocket and frowned at his thumb. It wasn’t burning, just tingling with warmth. It felt strange.
Suddenly a shock went through him, like when he was seven and, after a bath, had stuck his toe in a socket to find out what would happen.
It lasted only a couple of seconds. He shook off the pain and straightened up, glancing around for anything which could have caused it. There was nothing. He felt strange. His head swam and his entire body tingled. Trying to calm himself, he took one last drag on his cigarette then put it out. He took out his blue orb. It glowed a little at him. He breathed deeply and felt a little calmer as he held his orb close to his chest.
He put a hand to his stomach. He felt sick suddenly. It was early but he could head home. His Da would still be at the shop until five. He stuffed the stolen sweets and cigarettes at the bottom of his bag, then caught the bus home.