nysalogs | [ FINISHED/CLOSED ]

Entry tags:

[ FINISHED/CLOSED ]

Who: John Sheppard & Ianto Jones
What: I Held My Tongue For Like 30 Minutes What More Do You Want?
When: Backdated to the, 24th/25th of May?
Where: Leaving main Wyver for Khalo
Warning(s): Weird Tension, fyrra use

John's best lead for the whole thing is going to be Khalo, but they can at least meander through the main hub first so Ianto can get a drink before he collapses on the floor. He can explain it once Ianto is a little more alert. John is benevolent enough to suggest this without letting on it's mostly for Ianto's sake, even though they both know it is. It's fine, though, he knows the theoretical timeline they're working on -- and since the the whole altar thing was a bust (probably he should mention that, too) this is more firefighting than anything.

He waves off another kid trying to get suspiciously close to him and his bag, mouths scram as he waits for Ianto to get his drink (which, no doubt, he won't enjoy as much as his own fancy coffee) and skims his phone again. It's heating up enough that his jacket is stowed in his bag, and he eyes Ianto idly wondering if he's put on any sunblock. His own arms are getting browner every minute, and he probably has tan lines.

"So," he says, stowing his phone and squinting up at the sky thoughtfully. Clear so far, it's only going to get hotter then. "Your boyfriend seemed in a good mood."

Ultra smooth. Nailed it.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

He hears a note of — something in John's voice at that. He isn’t calling Jim names anymore and he suspects it’s because he had told him off for it. But there is still something there and now without the guise of the mild insults it stands out more.

His expression furrows at the other man. “I’m not completely useless,” he bites back, because he can’t help but be defensive at the comment. “Yes, the ring he gave me. I wanted to see that it would fit under the gloves I was looking at. The shopkeeper saw it. He thought it marked me as some hero that I’m obviously not, and started shoving things at me and making a fuss. And now here we are.”

He stops in his tracks and turns towards the other man, shaking his head. Unable to hold himself back from asking, “Look, why does this bother you so much?”

He's about to protest that surely Ianto doesn't have to wear it all the time when he grinds to a halt suddenly, and John is walking close enough that he barely avoids bumping into him before taking a step back.

"What?" he responds, and then realises that isn't perhaps eloquent. Then -- "Well, I guess it bothers me if you're getting in trouble because of this thing."

Since it does, after all. Whatever sort of gift it's meant to be, it isn't a good one if they're fleeing a shop because of it. Gifts that put you in danger are bad gifts, however fancy or expensive they might be.

Ianto lets out a scoffing noise that's not all that far away from a snort because honestly it's more than that and he knows that but if that's how John wants to play things then fine. He can play too, he supposes.

"I made a mistake," he replies, exasperatedly. "And he didn't give it to me to get me in trouble. He gave it to me to get me out of it. There's a spell or something on it. I don't know. I think it only works the one time, but it's a fail safe. In case I run into trouble. It's why he told me to wear it if I'm in danger, it's supposed to protect me. It could have spared me a literal headache back at the carriage if I had only remembered I had the damn thing in the first but I suppose if we're going up against these people again or worse, a dragon as well, it's better I saved it for the real fire fight I suppose."

"Fine," John says, because fine is the theme he's going for. "Sorry I didn't do a good enough job."

His hands drop away from Ianto completely at last, and he takes another step away to put more comfortable breathing space between them.

"Are we done here?"

With this, with shopping, in general he supposes.

"John," Ianto snaps back, because the other man is pushing him at this point. He's not even doing anything wrong per se, he's just avoiding his questions, hedging on specific topics, and being overly defensive on others, and Ianto wishes he knew why, he wishes that he'd just tell him, because they live together for god's sake, and John had gone off on his own yesterday and all but given him his blessing to spend the night with Jim, and now this? "For christ's sake."

No, they most certainly are not done.

"You ran off after a bandit and I was on my own and I should have put the damned ring on but I forgot and I thought I could handle myself and I nearly didn't. Is that what you want to hear? Because it's what happened. I'm sorry that I denied you from saving the day in two places at once. And for that matter if I had another I'd give it to you as well although perhaps I'd have to glue it to your damn finger because I certainly don't see you wearing anything that keeps yourself safe otherwise." Yes, John, that was a dig at your levels of self-preservation.

Saving the day.

John scowls openly and darts his eyes away, temper simmering under the surface and threatening to burst through any minute.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

He's fine, he's wearing what he normally wears -- besides his P90 and his sidearm anyway. How is it his fault the Natha took those off him? He's doing the best he can, but maybe that just isn't enough.

"Anyway I don't know what carriage you were escorting, but I'm pretty sure no saving the day happened! In fact I'm pretty sure we lost our cargo and now the whole of this place is probably going to be drowning in dragon fire! All because I was stupid, because of course they attacked us. I should have seen it coming! I did see it coming and I still --"

Still messed the whole thing up. He takes a controlling breath, flinches sharply and paces away from Ianto a few steps. He wants to punch something, to break something but he clamps down on the desire and squashes it as best he can.

Edited (belated typo correction) 2018-06-06 00:23 (UTC)

There is a silence that hangs in the air between them for a few seconds as John cuts himself off and steps away, because Ianto can’t honestly believe that he’s hearing him correctly. All because...?

“You can’t honestly blame yourself for what happened out there,” he says, a little incredulously because apparently John can, and he does. “It was a trap. We were outnumbered, and they were far better organized. You and the guard — you did the best you could. And you kept me out of trouble.” Mostly.

He takes a step towards the other man, shaking his head. “If there’s anyone at fault, then it’s me for distracting you. Weighing you down. But you’re only one man, John. You can’t do it all.”

"Yes I can," John says, and he means it. "That's my job. It was my job to keep this from happening."

He didn't, and now here they are. Rubbing at his face John tries to take a steadying breath, to count backwards, to try and think what Heightmeyer would say to him. Then it occurs to him with a jolt that Heightmeyer is dead because of him, too. Momentarily queasy, he moves toward one of the large tree trunks and leans a hand on it -- tries to rein himself back in bit by it.

"You weren't weighing me down," he adds finally, because sure -- maybe Ianto could do with a little more combat training but he was at least helping. He was stunning people. He wasn't just sitting there cowering while John worked around him. That all counts for something.

It hurts to hear John blame himself. Hurts because he can hear he believes himself, and it’s easy for him to say otherwise to the other man, but a lot more difficult for him to prove it to be true. He watches him struggle to take a deep breath before moving to lean on a nearby tree, and he feels wretched because John looks for a moment as though he’s about to be sick and it’s all because of his stupid sense of responsibility.

He wants to hold him and tell him that it will be okay but he settles for stepping forward to tentatively place a warm hand on the other man’s back, in quiet support. His voice is soft and low when he speaks.

“Well I don’t blame you. I think you were up against insurmountable odds, and you saved my skin out there more than once. More than twice. You’re not a superhero, but that’s why we’re supposed to keep an eye out for each other, yeah?” Though apparently Ianto's done a pretty poor job of it so far.

He tenses at the touch for a moment, forces himself to relax and calm the way his stomach is clenching.

"Yeah, well, impossible odds are kind of my thing. I should be good at it by now. It's just like a Thursday, right? Never could get the hang of Thursdays."

Although he's made that joke once already today, hasn't he? Off his game. This is no good. Pushing back away from the tree John presses his lips together unhappily, skips his eyes around the area as he tries to work out how to gently redirect. His eyes drop to where Ianto's hand has moved up to his arm and John fumbles for something to say, for some reassuring witticism, but the words all die before they even begin and he's just left regarding Ianto warily from behind his sunglasses.

Ianto's touch hesitates slightly as John tenses, but he doesn't pull away. The point is the contact, an attempt to anchor his words in a way that they might not stick otherwise, so he shifts his touch as the other man moves to stand again, but he doesn't pull away. He doesn't quite know how to do these things -- his experience with touch is really only with Jack. With Lisa. Lisa who he'd thought he'd be married to one day. Jack who was always crossing the line in some way or another. But he can certainly try. Ianto may not be able to see John's eyes, but John can certainly see his, and he should be able to see the worried expression in them. For him.

"You do know what impossible means, don't you?" he asks, softly. Squeezing his hand on John's arm, the corners of his lips turning in a slight smile to show he doesn't mean to be too harsh in his words as he continues, "Or am I going to have to fight you on that as well?"

John studies Ianto for a long moment, feeling awkward frozen in place by his touch.

"Yeah," he says finally, his voice a little rough and creaky. "Pretty sure I do."

Because he does, and that's the point. He's the guy who does the impossible missions, the ones that he shouldn't come back from, the ones that nobody else will do. The suicide mission that needs to be run for everyone else to survive. He figures something like that might end up needed here, too, if this dragon is as dangerous as they fear. Which is fine. He's almost at peace with it already, if it will undo all this mess.

It takes Ianto a moment to realize just what exactly it is that the other man means, because it's a different direction to what he'd been saying himself. A different meaning to the word than what he'd been implying. Impossible. Ianto had meant as a level of success, but then he supposes it all depends on what it means for a person to succeed. Survival is a rather final measure of it, after all.

He wonders whether it would be a breech of the other man's privacy to remove his sunglasses, for how much he wishes he could look him in the eyes just now. He supposes he might stop talking to him if he did. John seems to know how little he can hide from him after all.

"We're going to find a way to make this right," he says, with a certainty he isn't sure whether he feels, but he knows that John needs to hear it. God knows he'll repeat himself as many times as he has to until something sticks. Until that wretched note clears from the other man's voice and he stops looking like he might try and face down the dragon bare-handed if it came to that. "You and me together, yeah? That was the deal."

Something in his face twitches, the ghost of a cynical squint, and John glances away again.

"Right," he says finally, then after a long moment of hesitation lifts a hand to cover Ianto's on his arm. "I've been up to the altar. Someone's already spilled a lot of blood there recently and burnt something."

So, you know, just in case Ianto thought that might be the right avenue to go down... probably not. This may also explain why John looks like he hasn't got a lot of sleep, he's been busy.

The hand covering his is at least promising, even if John can't look him in the eye while he does so. He supposes there must have been a reason why John's changed his tune and decided that they go down this path towards Khalo instead of trekking up the mountain to take a look at the altar instead, but the fact that he's done so already puzzles him. Investigated the altar, looked into the rest of it.

Does he really hold it against Ianto himself that he'd had a rest while he'd been so busy himself? Should he not have tried harder? No, that's a ludicrous thought. He'd been hit on the head, he'd needed his rest, and anyway he'd managed to uncover some useful information besides. And John really is going to get himself killed at this rate, if he doesn't ease off on himself a little.

"What pointed you in the direction of Khalo, then?" he asks, though what he wants to know is whether the other man really did sleep at all. Whether he's had anything to eat between when Ianto saw him last besides that piece of bread.

"Couple of things," John says, and pulls back his hand -- pushes his sunglasses up into his hair and digs out his phone. It dances through a few pages as he frowns at it. "Firstly, little bit of local rumour says some of the bandits might be laying low there. Secondly, more interestingly, this guy..."

He turns so they're facing the same way, steps into Ianto's space and holds out the screen toward him as he (manually, this time) scrolls a little through a private text thread.

"Says he was on the other escort team heading into Olympia."

John scrolls it up slowly, stops around the point it gets to I'm the stupid plans guy, you know? and lifts his frown to fix on Ianto instead.

"Could be a trap," he admits, "but also the only lead we have with the altar already done and dusted. There's another guy who said he'd meet me there, too, also off the other team. He's been up to the altar too."

Ianto glances aside at the other man as he pulls away, letting his hand fall from his arm at last -- to be replaced by the warmth of John at his side. He reaches out to brace John's hand in his own so that he can see the text closer as the other man scrolls, frowning as he reads.

"Anything they told us has to be taken with a grain of salt, as he says," Ianto allows, glancing up at the other man as he does. "But any information is more than we had before. And if local rumor backs it up -- there's nothing wrong in following the lead." If what the man had said is right, they have some time before the three weeks has passed, after all.

Of course, because he is who he is, he can't let this conversation go by without asking, "You went all the way up to the altar last night? On your own?" Speaking of traps.

He lowers his phone and begins to put it away in a pocket again, frown still fixed on Ianto.

"No, somebody was showing me the way."

So he didn't go up alone, Ianto, and you can stop giving him that look. It... well, it probably wasn't safe but he wasn't alone anyway.

"You up for going then? I hear it's been closed off for a while, they're not normally into outsiders. Could be a sister-wives kind of place."

Which means it could well be dangerous, hostile. It could also be interesting, though. Presumably Kirk thought it was a good spot for a date, after all -- which John suddenly remembers. He hesitates before shrugging, trying for as neutral as he can manage.

"Can probably meet Kirk there too if you want, whenever he's done with what he needs to do in Olympia."

At least that's something, he supposes. That he hadn't gone up there on his own, even if it had been a pretty foolish idea. What if something had happened to him? What if he'd run into trouble? Would he have let him know? When? Before it was too late? God, he hopes so.

Ianto's brow furrows as John keeps talking, though. When he mentions Jim again. He isn't sure why it bothers him, but it does, and it has him shaking his head at the other man as he speaks up to say, "John, stop bringing him up. I mean it. He's got business in Olympia and at the station and you and I have got business of our own with this dragon, and if this date happens then it happens and if it doesn't then maybe we'll plan something else and maybe we won't, and that's okay, alright?" Jim is a good man but Ianto knows himself and he doesn't know what Jim wants and until he has that spelled out for him he'd prefer not to think about it that hard.

Right, at the station too. While they probably fight a dragon. John can't help the pinch of cynicism that pulls at this expression, as much for that as the stop bringing it up remark.

"I only mentioned it because you said he offered to take you there and now we're going anyway. Might be on fire in a few weeks so figure we should all enjoy it while we can."

He moves out of Ianto's space again, taking a steadying breath against the wave of low level irritation.

"Just put some sunblock on if we're moving."

Otherwise they're going to stand around arguing until the end of time at this rate, and the whole thing while be over before they can even get there.

"I can't," he says, the words brutally honest. He can't think like that. He can't imagine taking a holiday in the place where he knows there are bandits hiding out, if even allegedly. He can't imagine how he might be able to get himself to relax enough for a date if he could be out there doing something to stop it all. He's already ruined his chances once already because he couldn't turn it off, and he and Jim aren't even working towards the same goals here. He'd never forgive himself for it.

"Look, it's just. Extra incentive to make sure that we get this right, yeah?" he adds, attempting to soften his words. He knows that mentioning the sunblock was probably John's attempt to steer away from the conversation, but he had to get that out. And now that it was...

Ianto bends to unzip his bag, where he's stowed away all the things from the leather shop. Digging for a moment before producing the bottle of his sunscreen and the leather canteens. "Here," he says, holding one of them out to the other man. "For you. I figure we should probably get these filled somehow as well, yeah? It wouldn't hurt to have more water on hand." He sets his own on the ground next to his bag and begins liberally applying the sunblock to his arms and neck, starting out where he can at least see to get to.

Edited (clarification) 2018-06-07 11:53 (UTC)

Can't what, John wonders, because that can't felt pretty sweeping. Felt like it encompassed more than just asking or enjoying something. He watches Ianto warily for a long moment, studying his expression, then takes a breath as he finally holds out something to him. He blinks, squints as he takes the canteen and hesitates.

"Not sure if the running water is safe here," he says after a moment, since it's tropical and doesn't... look like they necessarily have complex sanitation systems here. His eyes rove over the other man a long moment as he applies sunblock, then he drops his back off his shoulders again and begins to put the canteen away -- checks through the rest of the contents and idly pushes up the short sleeves of his t-shirt to check if he's getting bad tan lines.

“Maybe not,” Ianto allows. “But it’s always good to have a backup.” Maybe they’ll find somewhere to fill it later? Don’t knock his gift, John. It is useful, once it can be put to its purpose.

He keeps on applying his sunblock the best he can but without being able to see what he’s doing, it is difficult. He does his best to get his face without getting anything in his eyes and he hopes he hasn’t missed anything. The back of his neck is another story and he glances at the other man as he pauses in his struggles.

“Do you need any of this?” he asks, watching as the other man examines his own tan lines. A little jealous of the fact that he doesn’t seem to have to worry about the sun much at all.

He's not knocking it exactly, just making sure Ianto doesn't make himself ill. The question makes him look up, though, and John frowns in thought at Ianto again.

"Put some on this morning," he says, then squints and begins to gesture vaguely. "You've got... streaks."

This is why he offered to put it on for you, Ianto. So you didn't get it everywhere.

"I -- oh," Ianto replies, rubbing at his face but he knows he isn't going to get all of it this way even with his best efforts. Sighing softly, he motions John towards him.

"C'mon then," he says. "If we go at this back and forth of you telling me where and me trying to get it, it's going to take all day, and one coffee only does so much for my patience. You offered to help before, didn't you? Or have I scared you off."

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject