Title: Show and Tell
By: amuly
Pairing: Jack/Ianto, +Rhiannon, +Grey
Word Count: 764
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Jack and Ianto's broken pasts somehow fit together perfectly.
Warnings: Brief depictions of mental illness
A/N: Okay, so I'll admit, I'm a little lukewarm this week with the results. Honestly, any other week I'm happy just to still be in, but this has been my absolute favorite fic of mine so far, and not just because of personal reasons or anything: I just genuinely think this is pretty damn well written. What I managed to do at the end, with tying the seemingly disparate themes together and echoing quotes and such... I know it's stupid to say this about your own fic, but I really liked it! Granted, I couldn't read anyone else's fic, because of Lent, so maybe everyone else's was a billion times better than mine. But still.

***

“Grey! Throw the ball!” The older boy laughed as he watched his little brother lift the ball up to his ear, entire arm bent back and twisted at an awkward angle. His visage was the picture of concentration as he squinted at his big brother, getting ready to throw. The moment before he moved was obvious: every muscle in his body tightened, every inch of him going taut like a pulsar gun in that nanosecond before it went off. He heaved... and the ball fell out of his hand, dropping to the sand by his heels.

“Show me how!” Grey pleaded, shouting across the windswept sands at his big brother.

The other boy laughed, trotting over. His feet slipped and rolled in the sand, his legs correcting for it with an easy grace learned with his mother's milk. “Here,” he said, picking up the ball. “Watch me.”

**

“Rhi!” Ianto frowned seriously down at the football at his feet. “Show me again!”

With a huff, Ianto's big sister strode over, arms crossed over her chest, waterfalls of dark brown hair cascading over her shoulders. “I already showed you once!”

“Please?” Ianto stared imploringly up at his big sister.

After a moment's serious contemplation, Rhiannon's face broke out into a grin. “Alright, fine. Get behind the ball. Like this.”

**

His mother was staring out over the sea, Grey's favorite shirt clutched in her worn hands.

“Mom?” He ventured a step closer, naked footsteps muted on the cool stone of their floors.

The house was silent. He waited a long, long moment. Time stretched, until the boy was certain a half hour must have passed. His mother stared out of the window, the only movement in the entire house her hands rubbing over Grey's shirt. The boy thought that might be the only movement left in the whole colony: just her hands rubbing, and rubbing, and rubbing.

It was only when he turned to leave that she finally spoke. “When do you think Grey will come home? It's getting late.”

Tears spattered the stone floors as he fled the room.

**

Ianto sat on the edge of the stairs, listening to his mam screaming in the kitchen. Rhiannon was sat not far from him, her face pressed against the slats of the railing as she listened as well.

“Is Mam going to have to go to hospital again? The one in the park?” Ianto asked his sister. As he watched her glare down at the kitchen – face distorted and ugly pushed as it was through the railing – he stuck his thumb in his mouth. He was too old to suck his thumb, he knew. But he was scared.

Rhiannon shoved herself viciously away from the stairway, smacking Ianto's thumb down as she stormed past. “I hope so! And I hope she stays there!”

Clutching his hand to his chest, Ianto turned back to the stairway with tears in his eyes. He heard his mam scream again.

**

Ianto tapped at his PDA before tucking it away in his jacket's inside pocket. Taking one last look around the playground, he headed over to the swing set. Jack was there, sitting on a plastic swing and rocking himself absently with his feet, a hand clutching one of the swing's chains. He was smiling as he looked out over the playground.

Ianto joined Jack, chains rattling loudly in the empty school yard as he sat himself on a free swing. “Owen's administering the last batch of vaccines,” he told Jack.

Jack nodded absently. They rocked their swings in a rhythm opposite from each other. “You ever think about having kids?”

Ianto scoffed. “In this line of work?”

“Right.” They fell silent, swinging gently as they waited for Owen's all clear. “For the record, I think you'd make a great dad. Or would that be Tad?”

Ianto was saved having to respond to that by Owen's voice on the comms, announcing that they were free to ship out.

On their way out of the school yard, Ianto smiled at Jack as he held the gate open for him. Jack grinned back. “I wouldn't know how,” Ianto volunteered: abrupt, sudden, surprising even himself with the declaration. “I didn't have the perfect models, growing up.”

Jack shrugged, one hand guiding on the small of Ianto's back as they headed for the SUV. “No one really does,” he said. “But if you ever wanted: I'd show you how.”