Recovery: Chapter 18 - Family

RATING:  Chapter 18 - PG for language 
CHARACTERS: Ianto, Owen; Rhiannon Davies, Johnny Davies, Mica & David Davies
WORDS: ~ 1750
SUMMARY:  - Owen meets Ianto's family

Happiness is having a large, loving, caring close-knit family in another city. -  George Burns

It was late November when Owen realized that he couldn’t procrastinate any longer.

 

‘Guess I better get this over with.’ He had put off meeting with Ianto’s sister as long as he could. Now that it looked like Ianto would be visiting at Christmas and relocating back to Cardiff within the next month or two, he knew he had to do this.

 

He called her during the week, explained that he was the medic overseeing Ianto’s recovery and wanted to meet to update her on what was going on. She seemed hesitant, but Owen understood when she explained that she’d have to find someone to watch after her mother and kids first.

 

“Why don’t I just stop over some evening? That way I can meet Ianto’s mum and you don’t have to be inconvenienced.”

 

Rhiannon Davies sighed. Great, now some stranger, a doctor no less was going to be coming to her house. She couldn’t wait to see him look around with disdain or even worse, pity.  “Next Thursday OK? Johnny, my husband will be home that night and he might have some questions.” She gave him directions to her home, and they agreed on 8 PM.

 

So Thursday it was. Owen snorted as he thought about the conversation. ‘Husband’s home Thursday’s, probably out drinking every other night with the boys. Yeah, like I wouldn’t be out drinking practically every night if I didn’t have the Jones kid to worry about,’ he acknowledged.

 

As he drove into the housing estate he could see that while it wasn’t very new, it was in pretty good condition. Two stories with white siding and dark green trim, the units were identical except for some flower pots on the steps leading to the front door or the occasional wind chimes hanging from an entry light. The Davies house was at the end of a row of units. He parked his car (actually it was Gwen’s car; thank goodness she let him borrow it, he knew he couldn’t show up in his new Miata) and went up to the front door. He could hear some yelling from inside. ‘Oh great, Thursday night at the fights has started already.’

 

Just as he was about to knock, the door flew open and two young children ran out laughing and yelling. “Put your shoes on before you go next door….” A woman about his age came to the doors. “Guess I was a little late on that suggestion. You must be Dr. Harper, come on in.”

 

Owen went inside and Rhiannon introduced herself and her husband who was sitting on the sofa. She would have been pretty once, but time and worry had taken its toll. Owen thought she was only a few years older than Ianto, but she looked much older than him at that moment. At least much older than the pre-Canary Wharf Ianto.

 

She motioned for him to sit down on a faded lounge chair and then sat down on the sofa beside her husband. Johnny spoke first. “So Ianto’s actually coming back to Cardiff. That should be interesting.”

 

Rhiannon snorted. “Yeah guess he’s not flying so high now is he?”

 

Owen held back a nasty retort. ‘Don’t let them bait you. They’re upset and embarrassed.’ 

 

“Right,” he said aloud. “Let me explain about Ianto’s progress.” He started to tell them about Ianto’s rescue from Canary Wharf but was quickly interrupted by Johnny.

 

“So what exactly is Torchwood? Something like MI5?”

 

“Yeah, something like that, but it deals with external threats to the Crown. Or at least that was what it was set up to do. It now deals with all sorts of threats to the stability of the government as well as the Crown.” 

 

Rhiannon couldn’t imagine her baby brother as some sort of secret agent. “I just can’t see it. My brother isn’t the James Bond type; I can’t believe he’d be working someplace like that.”

 

Owen laughed, “Well he did, but something a lot less mysterious or dangerous. He was an archivist; basically keeping records and information organized and filed. That’s all.”

 

“Ianto Jones, file clerk and secret assassin,” quipped Johnny. 

 

“Yep that about describes it. I know you are aware that Torchwood London was destroyed in a terrorist attack and that Ianto was one of only 27 people rescued from the attack. But I wanted you to know that there are only about half as many still alive six months later. Some succumbed to their injuries…others…uh...couldn’t live with the horrors they experienced.”

 

Both Rhiannon and Johnny looked shook up by that revelation. 

 

Owen looked down to hide a thin smile thinking, ‘good, now at least I’ve got your attention.’ Owen went on to describe Ianto’s rescue, injuries, surgeries, and prognosis. The Davies asked a lot of questions about Ianto’s hand and he patiently explained the extensive rehab that Ianto still had to complete. “It looks like he was really lucky. He will be able to use the hand for the basics – feeding himself, dressing himself, picking up items as long as they are not too heavy. Whether he will be able to write is still dicey, but with all the electronic devices, especially text messaging, this isn’t the disability it used to be. But I’m afraid any dreams he had of being a concert pianist are over.”   No one laughed.

 

“We’re hoping he’ll be able to find some type of work eventually, but Torchwood’s covering his costs for the foreseeable future. We’ve picked out a flat to rent for him, modest but close to a bus line so he can get around independently. So you don’t have to worry about taking care of him. We’ve got that covered.”

 

Rhiannon’s voice was shaking when she asked about Ianto’s lack of speech. “He can’t talk at all, like he forgot how, or he doesn’t want to, I just don’t understand.”

 

“None of the medical experts do either. He probably suffered some type of nerve damage in the brain center where language is formed, but none of the brain scans have been able to find anything. He says that he can think of how to speak, but can’t make it happen. Honestly, I’m not sure what that means. But I can tell you its not just being unable to make sounds, his lips don’t move at all. He communicates with text messaging but that has its limitations. We’re looking at other possibilities; there are programs that can convert written text to voice output, but we need to test them out and see if they’ll work for him.”

 

Rhiannon started to cry. “That’s worse than mum, she can talk at least. Only Welsh, mind you, but at least she can say something.”

 

“Is your mother here, now?” 

 

“She’s in the kitchen, didn’t think she’d have much to add to the conversation. You don’t speak Welsh do you?” Owen shook his head.

 

“Yeah, her mind’s as sharp as a tack, but she’s forgotten her English. Only spoke Welsh at home as a child you see.”

 

“You’ll tell her about Ianto, won’t you?”

 

“I will, she’s always asking about him…‘where’s my boy’ she’ll ask, practically every day since the stroke. She doesn’t remember him leaving us and sayin’ he’d never be back.”

 

Johnny put his arm around Rhiannon as she started to cry again. “Please excuse the missus; she’s overwhelmed with everything that’s going on. I work two jobs and I’m away all day and most evenings too. Everything falls on her, the kids, her mum, the house; I don’t know how she does it really.”

 

Owen sat down next to Rhiannon. “It’s OK for you to be angry. Ianto got opportunities you didn’t and I’ll bet the little brat just rubbed your nose in it. Yeah, I know something about that. Can I ask you; behind the kitchen is there a little space with a door that’s too small to be good for anything but maybe a place to store a mop and some cleaning supplies?”

 

“Dr. Harper, that’s the strangest thing to ask, but yes there is.”

 

“Thought so. See I grew up in a housing estate like this South of London. Exactly like it, as a matter of fact. My mum and I could never figure out what that space was for. I know you noticed my posh accent. I’m another kid who did a runner when I had the chance, but I never got to make it up to my mum. It was just me and her and she died when I was in my second year of medical training.”

 

Johnny had been watching Owen intently. He could tell that Owen wasn’t telling tales and had had more than his share of sadness. ‘Poor bloke, should get to know him better. After all he’s taken the burden of Ianto off me and Rhi.’

 

“Listen Owen, when you come back with Ianto, he and Rhiannon can have a visit and you and I can go to the pub for a pint or two.”

 

Owen smiled, “Yeah, I’d like that. I don’t know the exact details, but I was hoping to bring Ianto to visit at Christmas. Do you think that would be OK?”

 

Rhiannon and Johnny were pleased with the idea. “It’ll be the first Christmas since Mica was born that we’re all together,” Rhiannon explained. “The kids should get to know their Uncle Ianto; we’re a small family and they don’t have many other relatives.”

 

Owen got up to leave and then remembered. “Sorry, I almost forgot, Ianto wrote out a message for you.”   He handed Rhiannon a small envelope. “He wrote it with his left hand, so I hope you’ll be able to read it. Said it was private, so I have no idea what’s in it.”

 

Johnny and Rhiannon walked Owen to the door. Owen promised to call them once he knew exactly when Ianto would be returning to Cardiff.   After Owen was gone, they returned to the sofa. Neither said anything for a while. Johnny shrugged, “Nice guy that Owen; I thought he’d be stuffy but he wasn’t was he?”

 

“No, just a regular guy really. Seems like he’s been a real friend to Ianto not just his doctor.”

 

They sat again in silence until Rhiannon took a deep breath. “I’m really afraid to see what’s in this envelope, Johnny. Guess I should just open it, shouldn’t I?” Rhiannon carefully opened it up.

 _________________________________________________________________________________

  Rhi  I’m Sorry.   LOve   You                                                           

                                                                                                                                                                                       

  Tell Mum -  Rwy'n dy garu di **                                           

 __________________________________________________________________________________

 

Rhiannon put her head against Johnny’s shoulder and sobbed.

 

 

 

**I love you.

Chapter 19 is here: http://aviv-b.livejournal.com/7108.html

 

 

Recovery: Chapter 18 - Family

RATING:  Chapter 18 - PG for language 
CHARACTERS: Ianto, Owen; Rhiannon Davies, Johnny Davies, Mica & David Davies
WORDS: ~ 1750
SUMMARY:  - Owen meets Ianto's family

Happiness is having a large, loving, caring close-knit family in another city. -  George Burns

It was late November when Owen realized that he couldn’t procrastinate any longer.

 

‘Guess I better get this over with.’ He had put off meeting with Ianto’s sister as long as he could. Now that it looked like Ianto would be visiting at Christmas and relocating back to Cardiff within the next month or two, he knew he had to do this.

 

He called her during the week, explained that he was the medic overseeing Ianto’s recovery and wanted to meet to update her on what was going on. She seemed hesitant, but Owen understood when she explained that she’d have to find someone to watch after her mother and kids first.

 

“Why don’t I just stop over some evening? That way I can meet Ianto’s mum and you don’t have to be inconvenienced.”

 

Rhiannon Davies sighed. Great, now some stranger, a doctor no less was going to be coming to her house. She couldn’t wait to see him look around with disdain or even worse, pity.  “Next Thursday OK? Johnny, my husband will be home that night and he might have some questions.” She gave him directions to her home, and they agreed on 8 PM.

 

So Thursday it was. Owen snorted as he thought about the conversation. ‘Husband’s home Thursday’s, probably out drinking every other night with the boys. Yeah, like I wouldn’t be out drinking practically every night if I didn’t have the Jones kid to worry about,’ he acknowledged.

 

As he drove into the housing estate he could see that while it wasn’t very new, it was in pretty good condition. Two stories with white siding and dark green trim, the units were identical except for some flower pots on the steps leading to the front door or the occasional wind chimes hanging from an entry light. The Davies house was at the end of a row of units. He parked his car (actually it was Gwen’s car; thank goodness she let him borrow it, he knew he couldn’t show up in his new Miata) and went up to the front door. He could hear some yelling from inside. ‘Oh great, Thursday night at the fights has started already.’

 

Just as he was about to knock, the door flew open and two young children ran out laughing and yelling. “Put your shoes on before you go next door….” A woman about his age came to the doors. “Guess I was a little late on that suggestion. You must be Dr. Harper, come on in.”

 

Owen went inside and Rhiannon introduced herself and her husband who was sitting on the sofa. She would have been pretty once, but time and worry had taken its toll. Owen thought she was only a few years older than Ianto, but she looked much older than him at that moment. At least much older than the pre-Canary Wharf Ianto.

 

She motioned for him to sit down on a faded lounge chair and then sat down on the sofa beside her husband. Johnny spoke first. “So Ianto’s actually coming back to Cardiff. That should be interesting.”

 

Rhiannon snorted. “Yeah guess he’s not flying so high now is he?”

 

Owen held back a nasty retort. ‘Don’t let them bait you. They’re upset and embarrassed.’ 

 

“Right,” he said aloud. “Let me explain about Ianto’s progress.” He started to tell them about Ianto’s rescue from Canary Wharf but was quickly interrupted by Johnny.

 

“So what exactly is Torchwood? Something like MI5?”

 

“Yeah, something like that, but it deals with external threats to the Crown. Or at least that was what it was set up to do. It now deals with all sorts of threats to the stability of the government as well as the Crown.” 

 

Rhiannon couldn’t imagine her baby brother as some sort of secret agent. “I just can’t see it. My brother isn’t the James Bond type; I can’t believe he’d be working someplace like that.”

 

Owen laughed, “Well he did, but something a lot less mysterious or dangerous. He was an archivist; basically keeping records and information organized and filed. That’s all.”

 

“Ianto Jones, file clerk and secret assassin,” quipped Johnny. 

 

“Yep that about describes it. I know you are aware that Torchwood London was destroyed in a terrorist attack and that Ianto was one of only 27 people rescued from the attack. But I wanted you to know that there are only about half as many still alive six months later. Some succumbed to their injuries…others…uh...couldn’t live with the horrors they experienced.”

 

Both Rhiannon and Johnny looked shook up by that revelation. 

 

Owen looked down to hide a thin smile thinking, ‘good, now at least I’ve got your attention.’ Owen went on to describe Ianto’s rescue, injuries, surgeries, and prognosis. The Davies asked a lot of questions about Ianto’s hand and he patiently explained the extensive rehab that Ianto still had to complete. “It looks like he was really lucky. He will be able to use the hand for the basics – feeding himself, dressing himself, picking up items as long as they are not too heavy. Whether he will be able to write is still dicey, but with all the electronic devices, especially text messaging, this isn’t the disability it used to be. But I’m afraid any dreams he had of being a concert pianist are over.”   No one laughed.

 

“We’re hoping he’ll be able to find some type of work eventually, but Torchwood’s covering his costs for the foreseeable future. We’ve picked out a flat to rent for him, modest but close to a bus line so he can get around independently. So you don’t have to worry about taking care of him. We’ve got that covered.”

 

Rhiannon’s voice was shaking when she asked about Ianto’s lack of speech. “He can’t talk at all, like he forgot how, or he doesn’t want to, I just don’t understand.”

 

“None of the medical experts do either. He probably suffered some type of nerve damage in the brain center where language is formed, but none of the brain scans have been able to find anything. He says that he can think of how to speak, but can’t make it happen. Honestly, I’m not sure what that means. But I can tell you its not just being unable to make sounds, his lips don’t move at all. He communicates with text messaging but that has its limitations. We’re looking at other possibilities; there are programs that can convert written text to voice output, but we need to test them out and see if they’ll work for him.”

 

Rhiannon started to cry. “That’s worse than mum, she can talk at least. Only Welsh, mind you, but at least she can say something.”

 

“Is your mother here, now?” 

 

“She’s in the kitchen, didn’t think she’d have much to add to the conversation. You don’t speak Welsh do you?” Owen shook his head.

 

“Yeah, her mind’s as sharp as a tack, but she’s forgotten her English. Only spoke Welsh at home as a child you see.”

 

“You’ll tell her about Ianto, won’t you?”

 

“I will, she’s always asking about him…‘where’s my boy’ she’ll ask, practically every day since the stroke. She doesn’t remember him leaving us and sayin’ he’d never be back.”

 

Johnny put his arm around Rhiannon as she started to cry again. “Please excuse the missus; she’s overwhelmed with everything that’s going on. I work two jobs and I’m away all day and most evenings too. Everything falls on her, the kids, her mum, the house; I don’t know how she does it really.”

 

Owen sat down next to Rhiannon. “It’s OK for you to be angry. Ianto got opportunities you didn’t and I’ll bet the little brat just rubbed your nose in it. Yeah, I know something about that. Can I ask you; behind the kitchen is there a little space with a door that’s too small to be good for anything but maybe a place to store a mop and some cleaning supplies?”

 

“Dr. Harper, that’s the strangest thing to ask, but yes there is.”

 

“Thought so. See I grew up in a housing estate like this South of London. Exactly like it, as a matter of fact. My mum and I could never figure out what that space was for. I know you noticed my posh accent. I’m another kid who did a runner when I had the chance, but I never got to make it up to my mum. It was just me and her and she died when I was in my second year of medical training.”

 

Johnny had been watching Owen intently. He could tell that Owen wasn’t telling tales and had had more than his share of sadness. ‘Poor bloke, should get to know him better. After all he’s taken the burden of Ianto off me and Rhi.’

 

“Listen Owen, when you come back with Ianto, he and Rhiannon can have a visit and you and I can go to the pub for a pint or two.”

 

Owen smiled, “Yeah, I’d like that. I don’t know the exact details, but I was hoping to bring Ianto to visit at Christmas. Do you think that would be OK?”

 

Rhiannon and Johnny were pleased with the idea. “It’ll be the first Christmas since Mica was born that we’re all together,” Rhiannon explained. “The kids should get to know their Uncle Ianto; we’re a small family and they don’t have many other relatives.”

 

Owen got up to leave and then remembered. “Sorry, I almost forgot, Ianto wrote out a message for you.”   He handed Rhiannon a small envelope. “He wrote it with his left hand, so I hope you’ll be able to read it. Said it was private, so I have no idea what’s in it.”

 

Johnny and Rhiannon walked Owen to the door. Owen promised to call them once he knew exactly when Ianto would be returning to Cardiff.   After Owen was gone, they returned to the sofa. Neither said anything for a while. Johnny shrugged, “Nice guy that Owen; I thought he’d be stuffy but he wasn’t was he?”

 

“No, just a regular guy really. Seems like he’s been a real friend to Ianto not just his doctor.”

 

They sat again in silence until Rhiannon took a deep breath. “I’m really afraid to see what’s in this envelope, Johnny. Guess I should just open it, shouldn’t I?” Rhiannon carefully opened it up.

 _________________________________________________________________________________

  Rhi  I’m Sorry.   LOve   You                                                           

                                                                                                                                                                                       

  Tell Mum -  Rwy'n dy garu di **                                           

 __________________________________________________________________________________

 

Rhiannon put her head against Johnny’s shoulder and sobbed.

 

 

 

**I love you.

Chapter 19 is here: http://aviv-b.livejournal.com/7108.html