Gwil's Guide to Growing Up Torchwood: Year 2, Chapter 2

[amuly]

Title: Gwil's Guide to Growing Up Torchwood: Year 2, Chapter 2
Pairing: Jack/Ianto, Gwil, Tosh
Word Count: 1,933
Rating: PG
Summary: When a seven-year-old boy falls through the Rift, Ianto and Jack decide to adopt him. This is the story of his life at Torchwood.
Chapter Summary: Tosh suggests that Gwil is ready for a proper education. Ianto freaks out.
Warnings: none
A/N: Little bit late, sorry about that. Thus begins the “Oh my gosh, Gwil is going to school!” mini-arc.
Also: Firing range porny fic is indeed coming your way shortly. ~.^

Previous Chapters:
Prologue
The First Year:
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10
11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17
The Second Year:
1

 

 

Ianto tried to ignore Tosh, to push past her and move onto the coffee machine. But she was standing in his way, hands on her hips and a determined look on her face. “If you don't tell Jack, I will.”

Ianto's eyes flickered back to Jack's office in a panic, before he managed to smooth his countenance back into placidity. “We'll discuss it tonight. But I still think another year-”

“Tad.” Ianto looked down at the little figure tugging at his jacket. Big, blue eyes stared up at him from waist-level. “Can I make the coffee?”

Ianto sighed. There went his only excuse to delay the conversation with Jack. “Go ahead, cariad.” As Gwil scampered off to the coffee machine, grabbing his stool and setting to work, Ianto tried, unsuccessfully, to avoid eye contact with Tosh.

“I'm going in there right now, Ianto Jones, if you don't.”

Ianto's stomach plummeted as he stared over at Gwil, who was diligently placing mugs under nozzles and pulling handles. “But he's so small,” he whispered.

Tosh's hand was reassuring on his shoulder. “So is everyone at that age. And Owen says that he's catching up to his age group in height and weight. He's only barely below the average as it is.”

“But he might discuss Torchwood. He's only eight: he might not understand that he has to keep it secret.”

Glancing over Ianto's shoulder, Tosh held up two fingers. “One: at his age, I had all sorts of secrets. Silly stuff, like journals and false bottoms in drawers, but still secrets. Every child is an expert at that. And two,” Tosh's hand squeezed Ianto's arm lightly before dropping away, “I think this is something you should discuss with Gwil's dad, not me.”

Ianto jumped as he heard Jack's feet on the metal grate behind him. “Discuss? Discuss what?”

When he turned around, Tosh was already back at her station, reading glasses on and seemingly absorbed in her work. Ianto sighed, turning back to Jack. He was frowning at Ianto, arms crossed across his chest, sleeves rolled halfway up so his forearms stood bare. Ianto briefly entertained the possibility of distracting Jack with sex, but one look at Jack's stoney expression told him that wouldn't be possible.

“Ianto...” Jack's voice had a warning note in it. “Office. Now.”

The two men returned to Jack's office, Ianto doing his best not to look like a petulant or delinquent child as he trailed behind Jack. He closed the door gently before sliding into the chair opposite Jack's.

“So what's this about?”

“Gwil.” Ianto jumped as the door clicked open behind them, the little boy who was the subject of their conversation poking his head through.

“Dad? Tad? Coffee.”

Jack waved him in, taking the coffee from Gwil with a big smile. “Thanks, champ.” He ruffled Gwil's hair, causing the little boy to scrunch up his nose in irritation at the messiness. Ianto's heart swelled with protectiveness. They couldn't send him to school yet. There was no way he was ready.

Ianto touched Gwil's back in thanks as he passed Ianto his own cup of coffee. Silver tray empty, Gwil twisted it between tiny hands nervously as he looked away from Ianto. “Tad? Can I go play outside? I promise to stay on the Plass.”

Ianto hesitated, glancing to Jack. The other man nodded not-so-subtly at the monitors, and Ianto relented. “Okay. But stay on the Plass. No bothering people, no talking to strangers, and if-”

“I see anything weird, come straight back.” Gwil nodded seriously. “I know, Tad.”

“Alright,” Ianto grumbled, still unhappy with the idea.

Tiny arms wrapped around his neck in thanks, before the little boy was off, tray rattling as he set it by the coffee station and alarms blaring as he left the Hub.

Jack had the CCTV pulled up on his monitor before Ianto even turned around. As they watched, a little figure appeared on the screen, dashing out toward the guardrail overlooking the bay. Ianto watched as Gwil stared out at the ocean, tiny hands curled around the railing as he swung gently on it.

“So. What is it.”

Ianto sighed, tearing his gaze away from the CCTV in order to meet Jack's eyes. “School.”

“School?”

Ianto continued. “Registration starts this month, and Tosh thinks he's ready.” Ianto hurried to add: “I don't.”

Jack was grinning, either ignoring or oblivious to Ianto's worries. “School? I didn't realize it was already time. What do you think: public or private? We can afford public, if you want. Maybe we should ask your sister about the schools around here...” Jack's eyes lit up. “We'll have to buy him school supplies! Pencils and erasers and those little binder things with the metal teeth and the cool covers. I just bet they have ones with airplanes on them.”

Ianto hurried to stem the torrent of Jack's enthusiasm. “Jack,” he spoke firmly, maintaining eye contact. “I disagree with Tosh's assessment. I don't think he's ready. Not only could he use another year of private tutoring, but he's still below the average height and weight for his age, has little experience interacting with other children, and moreover, we don't even know if he can be trusted at his age not to discuss Torchwood with his classmates.”

Jack was watching Ianto fondly as he spoke. Personally, Ianto found the expression worrisome at best, condescending at worst. As Ianto paused for a breath, Jack leapt into the conversation, ticking off points as he went. “If Tosh says he's ready academically, I trust that he's ready academically. I spoke with Owen yesterday, and Gwil is only barely below average height. There will probably be kids shorter than him in his year.” Jack was grinning as he held up a third finger; Ianto frowned back at him. He shouldn't be enjoying this argument. “The only way he's going to get better at interacting with other kids is by going to school, and finally, he's a smart kid: we can trust him not to talk about Torchwood.” Jack glanced down at his four raised fingers. “Did I get everything?”

“You've practiced this, haven't you?”

Jack grinned. “With Gwen. She played you!”

Ianto chose to ignore Jack's childlike glee at his preparedness for this argument. “What happens when he wants to bring a friend home for a play date? He can't exactly bring them down to his room.”

Jack frowned. So there were problems he and Gwen hadn't anticipated during their little mock-argument. “Well, what if...” Jack frowned and fell silent again. “Gwen...”

Ianto sat back in his chair, taking a triumphant sip of his coffee. While Jack pondered the solution to that little problem, Ianto could have another year with Gwil out of school. Nine was much better than eight. Surely he would feel ready to release Gwil to the world then. Maybe.

"”Teleport pad!”

Damn it. Ianto set his coffee down with a thunk. “What?”

Jack was excited about whatever idea he had: leaning forward, hands gripping the edge of his desk. “We get a house out in the suburbs that looks like our rooms downstairs. When a friend wants to come over, we bring them to the house. We put a teleport pad in the doorway, and then another in the entrance of our rooms downstairs. Then,” Jack lifted his hands, gesturing as he spoke, “They enter the house out there,” Jack moved his hands from one side of the desk to the other, “and end up here.”

Ianto squinted at Jack. “That's... that's a...”

Jack slapped the desk triumphantly. “I think the word you're looking for is 'fantastic'. And thanks: I know.”

Ianto's stomach curled, face going pale. This was really happening. His eyes flickered to the CCTV, where Gwil was squatting on the ground, picking at something Ianto couldn't discern on the low-resolution cameras. That little, tiny boy was going to have to go to school. All on his own. For hours on end.

“I... I need...” his vision swam, and Ianto pitched forward in his chair under a wave of vertigo. There was the scrape of a chair, and suddenly strong arms were encircling him, holding him together. A few moments later a cool glass of water was being pushed into his hands, and Ianto sipped at it, slowly regaining his equilibrium. He pressed the glass to his forehead when it was half-empty, rubbing at the beads of sweat that had suddenly broken out there.

Jack was crouched next to him, a mix of concern and gentle amusement on his face. “It's going to be okay,” he spoke quietly, steady voice a reassuring anchor for Ianto to cling to. “Every kid has to go to school sometime. Just think about all the fun stuff we'll get to do: clothes shopping, school supplies shopping, play dates and homework and school projects...” Jack's hand reached up and rubbed at Ianto's, which was still gripping the armrest of his chair tightly. “And just think about the friends he'll make, and the normal life he'll have. He'll get to see the sun more than once a week.”

Ianto turned his hand over, releasing the armrest and gripping at Jack's hand instead. “I don't know if I can let him go already.”

“You don't have to.” Jack's lips pressed soothing kisses along the back of Ianto's hand. As stupid and simple as the gesture was, Ianto felt himself relax with each light peck. “Just a few hours each day. And then he comes home to us, full of new ideas and knowledge and stories. Don't you want him to get to experience that?”

With a strangled gasp Ianto pulled Jack to him, burying his face in Jack's neck. Jack's hands rubbed at his back as Ianto fought to regain some semblance of control. “'m scared,” he murmured. “I... I don't think I've ever been...” Jack nudged Ianto gently away, and they stared into each other's eyes. “Canary Wharf, and Lisa, and the cannibals... then it was just me who might die or get hurt, or you or Tosh or...” Ianto cut himself off, shaking his head. “But now it's Gwil. And I just...”

“Ianto: it's just school. He's not fighting Weevils or Daleks or Cybermen. Worst thing that can happen is a bad test grade or a nasty remark from a classmate.” Ianto was unconvinced, and he knew it showed on his face, because Jack was speaking again. “You all survived it relatively intact, didn't you?”

Ianto nodded, slowly piecing himself back together. “Sorry,” he murmured, face going red. “Sorry, I don't know why I was so... sorry.”

“Hey, it just means you're a great Tad.” Jack pressed a kiss to Ianto's forehead before standing. “Now come on: we've got that teleconference with UNIT in ten, and you ned to brief me on whatever the hell I'm supposed to say.”

Ianto nodded, sorting through Jack's desk for the necessary papers, trying to let work take his mind off visions of little Gwil being bullied or failing a test. Jack's hand reached for his again, squeezing tightly.

“It's going to be fine. You'll see.” His grin turned crooked, eyes dancing. “And we're going to have so much fun back-to-school shopping.”


Continue onto Chapter 3.

 

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Give it just another 2 weeks or so, and hopefully I'll be up to posting twice a week again!

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