Ianto's Journey, Part V, Chapter 80-Picking up the Pieces

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IANTO'S JOURNEY, PART V- REDEMPTION
TITLE:   Chapter 80- Picking up the Pieces
AUTHOR: Aviv_b
RATING: Chapter 80- G/PG
CHARACTERS::  Ianto, Stephen
DISCLAIMER:  Not mine; Aunty B's and RTD's
WORDS: ~ 1365
SUMMARY:  Ianto and his friends at Torchwood try to pick up his pieces of their lives

Title is from: Sometimes being a friend means mastering the art of timing. There is a time for silence. A time to let go and allow people to hurl themselves into their own destiny. And a time to prepare to pick up the pieces when it's all over.” Gloria Naylor

Ianto's Journey begins here: http://aviv-b.livejournal.com/1972.html
All Chapter are linked.

 

Ianto woke the next morning feeling a bit hazy. The sleeping pills had really knocked him out, but even with eleven hours of sleep, he still felt a bit off kilter.

As he got out of bed, there was a knock on his bedroom door. Ianto opened it to see Stephen with a mug of coffee. “I know it’s not as good as yours, but I thought you could use a little caffeine.”

'I feel like I slept for a week. And I still feel tired and logy.'

“I know you’ve been on MREs for a week, so I thought I’d make you a cooked breakfast.”

'I know you’re going to think I’m daft, but I’d really like to take another shower. I hate to ask you, but do you have any clothes that will fit me?'

Stephen smiled. “I went over to your house after you fell asleep last night and got you some clothes.”

‘I know you have keys, but isn’t the curfew still on?’

“Like I told you, you’re a hero now, all I had to do is call Mickey and he had an escort take me over there.  Hang on a moment.” Stephen left the doorway and then reappeared a few minutes later with a large duffle. “I didn’t know what you’d need, so I just grabbed some of everything,” he said as he dumped the duffle out on the bed.

‘Stephen wasn’t kidding.’ Ianto thought. Inside the duffle were a random collection of shirts, trousers, socks, underwear along with several sweaters and a jacket. Ianto began to carefully fold the items and put them in a dresser.

“Ok, try not to take until noon to get that done will you, I’m starving.” Ianto nodded. As he picked up one of the sweaters he paled as he realized that it was one of Aaron’s. By the size of it, Stephen knew immediately what had happened.

“Oh shit,” Stephen said as he began to cry. ‘Hell,’ thought Ianto as he let a few tears fall as well. Ianto silently berated himself, ‘you lost your partner, but Stephen lost a brother and you never really thought how he’d be feeling.’ 

Ianto motioned Stephen over to him and hugged him tight. Stephen sobbed and Ianto realized that Stephen had had no one to share his grief with. “He saved me Ianto, without him I’d be lying in a gutter somewhere if even alive. I never really told him how much I appreciated everything he did for me, that both of you did for me really.”

Ianto nodded and rubbed Stephen’s back until he finished crying. Picking up his phone, he typed, 'he knew Stephen, and he was happy to do it. He loved you so much. He was much closer to you than he was to his sisters. Fuck, I’ll have to call his sisters won’t I? This is going to sound terrible, but I’m actually glad that Ronit isn’t alive to see this. At least she was spared having to bury him. Actually, I’m glad my mother isn’t alive to see this either. She would have been totally bewildered by it, probably blaming the IRA.'

Stephen wiped his eyes, feeling a little embarrassed. “Ok, time to go sort out breakfast. You get in the shower.”

A half hour later, Ianto came into the kitchen to see Stephen just finishing up some pancakes. Stephen cooking was surprising enough, the fact that everything looked and smelled so good was almost unbelievable to Ianto. Stephen thought it was probably due to the fact that Ianto hadn’t had real food for a week, so anything cooked was bound to seem wonderful.

‘Don’t sell yourself short, you really are a good cook. And considering what happened the last time you gave me something home made, I’m only surprised that I’m still lucid.’

“Funny, Ianto, very funny.” 

As they finished breakfast, Stephen told him that Mickey would be stopping by later in the day but that there were some things he needed to tell Ianto first. Ianto felt his heart drop.

“Ok, guess you’ve got some bad news for me.” Stephen could see that Ianto had put his serious face on and was keeping himself under tight control.

“Do you feel up to talking about Aaron?” Ianto nodded. Stephen had been contacted by the palace staff shortly after Aaron’s death and informed as to what had happened. He like Ianto had expressed a desire for Aaron’s remains to be returned for burial in the family plot.

“Initially they said ‘no’ but someone must have talked some sense into them. You maybe?”

‘The King actually.’ Stephen’s mouth formed an ‘O.’

“Anyway, you do realize it will have to be closed coffin, right?” Ianto nodded. Stephen reached in his pocket and pulled out Aaron’s wedding ring. “They weren’t sure if you wanted his ring or if you wanted it to be buried with his...uh… remains.”

'With him.'

“ I hope I’m not being rude, but may I ask what the inscription means?”

Ianto smiled through his tears as he thought back about the drama surrounding the purchase of rings. Ianto hadn’t wanted to exchange rings, but Aaron had his heart set on this one gesture of union. Since Ianto had vetoed any formal celebration with friends and family along with anything else that resembled a wedding (much to Aaron’s disappointment) he felt he couldn’t refuse this one request by Aaron.

He had snuck off one afternoon from work and made his way over to a Judaica store in central London. When he explained what he was looking for the young lady behind the counter was very helpful. An older man walked by several times frowning at them and shaking his head. The young woman rolled her eyes, “My grandfather is a bit old fashioned, I’m afraid,” she whispered, but I think it’s lovely that you want to have an appropriate ring for your partner.”

Knowing that Aaron was not someone who would want to wear something that was ornate and that for security reasons (let alone anti-Semitism) he wouldn’t want something that had Hebrew prominently displayed, Ianto finally chose a plain gold band with Hebrew engraving inside:

אני לדודי ודודי לי     (Ani L'Dodi V'Dodi Li) 

Ianto startled a bit when he realized he had been lost in thought for a couple of minutes.

‘Sorry about that, I was just remembering…. Anyway the inscription is ‘I am my beloved's, and my beloved is mine.’ It’s from the Song of Solomon.'

“So does your ring have something engraved inside?”

‘Yes, but I won’t tell you what. You’ll just have to outlive me to find out.’

Ianto wanted the remains interred as quickly as possible, but Stephen told him that a funeral had been arranged for early the following week.

“Well, things are still in a bit of a mess, and the King wants to attend, and I was able to get a chaplain from the Royal Marines who knew Aaron to officiate and he’s a rabbi and there’s one other thing...” Stephen’s voice trailed off.

Ianto felt like he had a cold lump of lead in his stomach.

“There have been some deaths in Cardiff.” 

‘Oh god, please not my family,’ Ianto thought.

“Your sister and David and Claire and Rose and Mica and her husband are fine. Johnny died of a heart attack during the first wave of invasion. It was instantaneous; he didn’t suffer. The funeral is Friday. Oh yeah, today is Wednesday. So we will be driving with escort to Cardiff tomorrow if that’s alright.”

‘What else. I can tell that there’s something else.’

“Kimiyo Sato-Harper was killed in the battle at Osaka.”

Ianto nodded. ‘I was afraid of that.’

“They haven’t found her body and Tosh, Owen and Ricky are despondent. And there have been some injuries. Andy Davidson lost an eye, but he’s otherwise fine. And Gwen…she took a glancing blast from a Toclafane and… she’s paralyzed. The doctor’s say she’ll never walk again. Rhys and their children are OK…”

Ianto covered his face with his hands. It was almost too much to take in. A week ago everything was fine. And then everything changed. And Torchwood was ready, but the results were still disastrous.

Chapter 81 here: http://aviv-b.livejournal.com/47115.html