Title: Coming Out of the Dark
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Ianto Jones/Tenth Doctor
Fandom: Doctor Who/Torchwood
Rating: R
Table: 4
Prompt: 36. Meeting the Family
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the Tenth Doctor or Jack Harkness. Please do not sue.

***

Ianto stopped the car in front of his parents' house, looking nervously at the front door and swallowing hard. This was the first time his parents had met the Doctor -- and it would be the first time they heard that he was having a relationship with a man.

This definitely wasn't going to go over well.

The Doctor reached over to him, taking Ianto's hand in his and squeezing his fingers reassuringly. "Don't be nervous, love," he said softly, nodding towards the house. "They have to find out about us sometime, you know. And it's just as well that it happens now as later."

"It was hard enough to tell them about working for Torchwood," Ianto sighed, shaking his head. "And they don't even know the whole of that. They would have an apoplectic fit if they knew what my work involves."

"And even more of a fit if they knew that you were shagging an alien," the Doctor said, his voice deadpan, trying to get a laugh -- or at least a smile -- out of his boyfriend.

"Only half alien," Ianto corrected, finally smiling over at his lover and leaning across the driver's seat to brush his lips against the Time Lord's soft mouth.

"A mere technicality," the Doctor objected, laughing as he opened the door and swung his long legs out.

Ianto sighed, getting out of the car and walking slowly up the sidewalk to the house. He was hesitant about being here; he hadn't really wanted to accept his parents' invitation to dinner, but he'd been making so many excuses for not seeing them lately that he'd agreed to this.

They'd caught in him a a moment of guilt, actually, he told himself, one that he wished he'd been able to avoid. He'd almost told his mother over the phone that he would be bringing his lover with him -- but at the last moment, he'd stumbled over the words and merely referred to the Doctor as a "friend."

Friend. Hah. That didn't even touch the surface of what the Doctor was to him. How about everything? he said to himself. That described all the many things the Doctor was to him so much better. His heart, his soul, his life. Too many things to possibly put into words.

He had to force himself not to take the Doctor's hand, telling himself firmly that holding hands was only one of the many things that would be strictly prohibited as long as they were here. It was a struggle not to turn around and run back to the car, bundle the Doctor in with him and slam the door -- and drive away from this house forever.

But he couldn't do that. He'd promised his parents that he would spend the day with them -- he and his "friend" both. It just remained to be seen how long he could keep up the farce of the Doctor being nothing but a friend.

Today he'd finally tell them. Tell his parents that he was gay, that he had found the person he wanted to spend his life with -- and that person was a man. Tell them that this was who he was, that he'd finally found himself, and that he was happier than he'd ever been.

Yes. He would tell them. No matter what they thought of him, no matter how hard it was to force the words out.

He hadn't told them when he'd been with Jack, a small voice inside his head chided him. But that was different, Ianto thought, casting a sideways glance at the Doctor. Jack hadn't been his soul mate, the other half of him. Jack wasn't the man he intended to spend his life with. Jack wasn't --

"Ianto." The Doctor's voice was soft, his expression quizzical. "Are you going to knock on the door?"

"Oh. Right." Ianto cleared his throat, raising a hand, but pausing before his knuckles rapped at the door. "I ...."

He was saved the trouble of having to knock by the door opening suddenly, startling both men. Ianto jumped back, eyes wide, as nervous as a cat. The Doctor recovered more quickly, reaching out to take his mother's hand in his and executing a gentlemanly little bow.

"Mrs. Jones, I presume?" he asked, his voice low and cultured. Ianto stared; he'd never heard the Doctor sound quite like that before.

It was the sexiest thing he'd ever heard in his life. And if the Time Lord was going to talk like that all evening, it would be a struggle for Ianto not to forcibly carry him off to his childhood bedroom for a quick, silent shag before dinner.

"Why yes, I am." Was it his imagination, or did his mother sound rather pleased? Ianto glanced over at her; her cheeks were pink, and she was smiling. His boyfriend had obviously made a conquest.

Surely he couldn't feel jealous of his mother.

"I take it this is your friend, Ianto?" she asked, relinquishing the Doctor's hand reluctantly -- or so it looked to Ianto. He had to resist the urge to frown, to tell her that the Doctor was already taken and put his arm around his lover as though to ward her off.

"Yes, he is," he murmured, letting his mother pull him into her arms for a hug. "It's good to see you, mum."

His mother was standing back from him, eyebrows raised, a questioning look on her face. Ianto tried to stumble through an introduction.

"Mother, this is the .... David. This is David." The words were tumbling out, sounding just as nervous as he felt. "David, this is my mother. Doris."

"It's lovely to meet you, David." His mother was positively beaming in the Doctor's direction, looking as though she'd like to clasp him to her ample bosom as well. "Ianto, he has lovely manners. You could do with learning some of those. Teach him a few, David, will you?"

With that, she abruptly turned and made her way into the hallway of the house, leaving the two men to follow her inside.

As Mrs. Jones moved down the hallway, the Doctor leaned close to Ianto to whisper into his ear. "David? Couldn't you at least have chosen a name that's a little less .... well, boring?"

"It was the only thing I could think of that started with a D on short notice," Ianto whispered back, feeling defensive. "I was nervous. I don't always think well on my feet, you know."

The two men straightened up, smiling when Mrs. Jones turned to look at them with a quesitoning expression. "Whatever are you two whispering about?"

"Nothing, mum," Ianto murmured, feeling as though he was a small child again. His mother always had a way of making him feel very young, as if he was right back in the third grade, being fussed at for something he hadn't done yet, like taking out the trash or finishing his homework.

The Doctor followed Ianto into the kitchen, feeling even more like a child than he already did. This was where he'd spent a good deal of his childhood years; sitting at the table, doing homework, talking to his mother, helping her with the dishes after dinner. Everything that a normal child did.

Except that he hadn't been a normal child, had he? No, he'd always been bookish, always more interested in computers and art and other esoteric things than the other boys in the neighborhood.

And when he was older -- he'd discovered that he was interested in the boys. But he'd hidden that successfully, never told anyone of his leanings. It was the last thing that he wanted people to know about himself -- and he'd never actually been with a man until Jack had come into his life.

Now .... here he was, comfortable with the fact that he was gay, and planning to spend the rest of his life with the man who was his soul mate. Not only a man, but an alien, he reminded himself, watching surreptitiously as the Doctor pulled a chair out for his mother before he sat down.

She was right, he thought, settling himself at the table and smiling inwardly. The Doctor did have beautiful manners. Better than most human men of his acquaintance.

The Doctor sat down beside him, throwing Ianto a quick smile and squeezing his hand silently under the table. Ianto turned a little in his chair so that their knees touched, wanting to slide over a bit and press his thigh against the Time Lord's, but knowing that it would be a bad idea to follow through on that craving to touch his lover.

"So, how long have you known David, Ianto?" his mother inquired, raising both eyebrows as she looked over at the two of them. She didn't look as though she thought there was anything amiss, Ianto thought, swallowing hard and wondering if he should tell the truth.

He didn't have to worry; the Doctor answered for him, his voice smooth and even. "We've only known each other for a short time. But time enough to become .... close." His eyes met Ianto's, and the younger man could have sworn there was a small, secretive smile curving his mouth.

"Not too close," Ianto's father said, looking a little startled at the Time Lord's words. "There are all kinds of perverts out there. Wouldn't want anyone thinking the wrong thing about our son."

The Doctor's brows rose, and he shot a glance at Ianto. The youg man stiffened, trying to communicate to the Doctor that this wasn't the right time to try to bring up what they'd come here to tell his parents.

"Are you so sure that it would be the wrong thing?" the Doctor said mildly, propping his chin on his entwined fingers and looking across the table at Ianto's father. "Appearances can be deceiving, you know."

The older man flushed, a scowl pulling down the corners of his mouth. "Don't talk like that at my table, boy," he growled, one hand clenching into a fist. "I won't have that kind of perverted idea in this house. My son doesn't consort with people like that."

Now the Doctor's lips were set in a thin line, and Ianto could tell that his father's words had angered the Time Lord beyond his capacity to brush it off. He tensed, fearing a confrontation that he couldn't control.

"'People like that'?" The Doctor's voice shook, his small fists now clenched under the table where they couldn't be seen. "What would you say if you suddenly found out that your son is actually one of those people? Would that change your attitude? Or would you turn your back on your child?"

The elder Jones shrugged, the rising tone of his voice the only thing that warned Ianto of his anger at the Doctor's words. "My son isn't a queer bugger," he nearly spat out, his voice flat and hard. He turned to look at Ianto, studying the young man who sat across the table in silence.

"Tell him, son. You're not one of those who lets other men bugger him. I'd know if my own son was one of them. I'd be able to tell."

Ianto cleared his throat, fidgeting a little in his seat; it was now or never. This hadn't been the way that he wanted to come out to his parents, but this was the opening he'd been given, and he was going to take it, no matter what the consequences might be.

"Actually, I'm always the one who buggers him, not the other way around," he said, his voice soft. "And no, you were never able to tell."

His father's mouth sagged open; the older man sat staring across the table at his son, his eyes wide with disbelief. Ianto stole a glance at his mother; she looked equally stupefied, as though she couldn't believe what she'd just heard. He had the distinct impression that he now knew exactly what it was like to be a caught fish wriggling on a hook.

The Doctor broke the silence, reaching for Ianto's hand and twining their fingers together. "It wasn't the way that Ianto wanted to tell you," he said softly, "but you should know. We're together. We're lovers. I love him. And I'm lucky enough to have him feel the same way about me."

Ianto looked over at the Doctor; the Time Lord was looking at him with warm affection in his eyes, prepared to face his parents' wrath right along with him. He could almost feel his heart melting in his chest.

"Is this true?" Mrs. Jones whispered, finally finding her voice. She turned to look at her son, her voice trembling. "Ianto, do you love him?"

"With all my heart," Ianto said softly, unable to look away from the Doctor's eyes, standing up and pulling his love to his feet. "I'm sorry that you had to find out like this -- and sorry that I've waited so long to tell you. I wanted to wait until I had found the man who I wanted to be with forever."

"And you have?" his mother whispered, her voice trembling, on the breaking point but not quite reaching it.

"Yes, I have," he answered, slipping one arm around the Doctor's slender waist and finally turning to look at his parents. "I'm sorry if I've been a disappointment to either of you. But I can't hide who I am. And I'm not going to walk away from the man I love. Don't ask me to."

His father had finally found his voice, standing up and glaring at the two men on the other side of the table. His hands bunched into fists, hitting the table with the force of a jackhammer. "I think you two should go. Get the bloody hell out of my house. And don't come back!"

Ianto's eyes fastened on his father's hands, a shudder going through his body. He could remember nights when the elder Jones had come home drunk -- nights when he would cower in bed, waiting for those heavy footfalls on the steps, the door to his room bursting open, the sting of his father's open palm across his cheek -- and across other, more tender areas of his body.

That was the past, Ianto told himself, not realizing that his grip on the Doctor had tightened until he was almost clinging to the Time Lord. His father had no power to hurt him now. He never would again.

The Doctor was leading him from the kitchen, down the hallway to the front door, Mrs. Jones trailing after the two of them. The Time Lord turned to her before he opened the door, his voice soft and heavy with regret.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his eyes meeting hers for a moment. He turned to open the door, stepping out of the house and tightening his grip around Ianto's waist. Neither of them looked back as they made their way out to the street, the Doctor opening the driver's side door and letting Ianto get into the car before sliding into the passenger seat.

Ianto was nearly blinded by tears, sitting still and clutching the steering wheel with shaking hands. This wasn't right. This wasn't the way that it was supposed to happen. His parents were supposed to accept him, and accept that he loved the Doctor. They weren't supposed to hate him. They weren't supposed to hate everything he was.

The Doctor leaned over, placing a gentle hand on Ianto's shoulder. The Time Lord's arm slid around his waist, nearly pulling Ianto across the car. He would have been sitting in the Gallifreyan's lap if it was possible.

"He beat you, didn't he?" the Doctor whispered, his voice low, full of barely contained anger. "It was in your thoughts, loud and clear. You're afraid of him. You have been since you were a child. Afraid of him, and afraid of what he would do to you if he found out that you're 'different.'"

Ianto nodded, his throat too constricted to speak. He couldn't force words out; it was enough that the Doctor could look into his mind and see what he was feeling.

"I'm so sorry, my love," the Time Lord whispered, soft lips pressing against Ianto's hair, his forehead, his cheek. "I'll never let anyone hurt you like that again. I promise you, Ianto."

He turned towards the Doctor, wrapping his arms around the slender body next to him. All he wanted was to leave here, leave and never look back; his days here were over, his tenuous ties to his family cut to shreds. There was nothing here for him any more. Maybe there hadn't been for a long time.

This was his past. His future was with the Doctor.

This was a dark part of his life, a part that he wanted to put behind him. The Doctor was the light, a bright beacon in his life. The Doctor was everything he'd ever needed, everything he'd ever dreamed of. The light at the end of a very long tunnel.

A tap on the window of the passenger side of the car made both men raise their heads, Ianto's eyes widening when he saw his mother standing there. The Doctor rolled down the window, and she pulled back, only a bit, but enough for her obvious reluctance to be near him to cut into Ianto's heart.

It was clear which side she was on. He should have known. She wouldn't stand up against his father. She never had. She'd ignored the beatings, the emotional abuse, the threats. As long as they weren't directed at her, they didn't happen in her eyes.

"Do you love him?" she whispered, her tear-filled eyes meeting the Doctor's, her voice trembling. "Do you love him enough to take him away from here?"

"Yes." The Time Lord's words were soft, but they carried an undertone of the strongest steel. "I love him more than I've ever thought it was possible to love. I always will."

"Take care of him, David." Mrs. Jones reached out to touch the Doctor's arm before she drew away. "Take care of him for both of us."

"I will," the Doctor answered, watching her as she made her way back up the path to the front door.

Ianto swallowed hard, not wanting to give in to another storm of tears. It was so significant that she hadn't touched him.

She turned just before she opened the door, raising a hand to wave at the two of them.

"I love you," she whispered, her eyes meeting Ianto's.

He didn't answer. If he did, he would break down -- and that wasn't something that he could do at the moment. He'd break down later, when he was safe in bed with the Doctor.

The Doctor. His love. His light. His future.

The Time Lord rolled the window back up with a bang, releasing Ianto from his grasp and facing resolutely forward as the door of the house banged shut with a ring of finality. Ianto sat up, raising a hand to fit the key into the ignition and turn it, the engine springing to life.

"Let's go home, love," the Doctor said softly, taking Ianto's hand in his and squeezing gently. "Let's go home and put this all behind us."

Ianto nodded, feeling a wave of exhaustion sweep over him. Why hadn't he realized before how tired he was? He felt as if his body was something resembling a limp washrag, wrung out and hung up to dry. He wanted nothing more than to get home, sink into the Doctor's arms, and sleep for hours.

He was silent as he turned on the ignition and maneuvered the car into the street, not looking back as they rounded the corner and left his parents' home behind.

***