Work Text:
Ifan Jones was a very traditional man. This was something about himself that he was very proud of. He was wildly religious, often bragging that about the meaning of his name (‘god is gracious’). Ifan was also very proud of his child Rhiannon. She had settled down, gotten married to a hard working man and had two wonderful children one boy and one girl who, in his eyes at least, could do no wrong. When Ifan met new people he spoke of his daughter very highly. In fact if you’d spoken to anyone Ifan had met in the past five years they would tell you he only had one child, his daughter Rhiannon.
But then, if you spoke to Doris the old lady who lived next door to Ifan and had done for thirty years she would tell you something different. She’d tell you all about Ianto who was a very ‘timid little thing’ and ‘very kind to my old cat morris before he passed away’ the cat that is not Ianto. No Ianto was alive and well and crying in the arms of his boyfriend. Why you ask? Well I’ll tell you.
Ifan Jones had a problem. He wouldn’t tell you mind because he was a respectable man (his words) and did not like people knowing his family had ‘issues’. He had recently found out that his son (a disappointment if you asked him) was even more a disappointment than he had originally thought. His son was a homosexual. Well. Strictly speaking his son was bisexual however if you even attempted to explain this to Ifan it is likely his head would explode. Or his temper.
Now you must be thinking that Ianto Jones was rather stupid to reveal this information to his father. After all from everything I’ve told you his father must seem like a sort of vile man. A very specific breed of man if you will. However it was of course by complete accident that ianto revealed his secret. Let me take you back.
It was during a family dinner where the family were discussing an upcoming wedding.
"What about you ianto" he heard aunty Dwyn's voice cut through. "Yes will you be bringing anyone to the wedding as a date?" Uncle Aeron asked. "its not too soon after Lisa you know" Efa cut in. "Ah Lisa" aunty dwyn said in a reminiscent voice "such a lovely girl she was. How tragic the terrorist attack was" she seemed to shake herself from her nostalgic stage as she spoke again "will you be bringing anyone?". Ianto huffed a small laugh "I'm not sure he would be interested". The silence that fell over the room was deafening as ianto froze, realising what he had just said.
As you can imagine, the scene which followed was not pretty. In short, Ifan called his son words which I will not repeat and threw him out of his house.
And this brings us to the day Ifan jones would always remember as long as he lived. It was an ordinary sort of day for Ifan. The day after the disaster of the family dinner he had bought some liquor from the corner shop and was watching tv when, outside, a car door slammed. It was an unusual sort of noise for Ifan to hear as, if you had ever spoken to Ifan, he would tell you he lived in a lovely area with no ‘hoodlums’. Soon after this car door slammed he heard a rather awful banging on his front door. When he answered it he was greeted with a face he had never expected to see again. A man who he had watched die in an army accident. A ghost if you will. However the ghost was not wearing blood stained Welsh army uniform no he was wearing a remarkably perfectly preserved RAF greatcoat.
The ghost at the door began shouting at him. The man was using words such as “ABSOLUTELY VILE” and “YOU SHOULD BE ASHAMED OF YOURSELF” and even “YOU’RE A HOMOPHOBIC PIECE OF SHIT I LOVE YOUR SON AND IF THATS AN ISSUE THEN GET OUT OF HIS LIFE AND NEVER SPEAK TO US AGAIN”. At this point Ifan had begun to come to his senses. This man couldn’t be a ghost he must be the man’s son. Just as Ifan was about to assault the man who was apparently his sons partner in sin with a plethora of awful slurs a sentence was uttered which wiped all the colour from his face. “IF IT DIDN’T MEAN ONE OF THE LOVES OF MY LIFE WOULD NEVER HAVE BEEN BORN THEN I WOULD WISH YOU HAD DIED WITH ME IN THAT ACCIDENT ALL THOSE YEARS AGO”. With a punch in Ifans face the man was gone. As Ifan looked up cradling his bloody face he could find no sign of the man. The only reminders that he had been real were the pain in his nose and the smell of petrol in the air.
He stumbled inside his house shutting and locking his door should the man come back. He knew his name of course he did. It was hard to forget a name like Jack Harkness. That last sentence rung in his head over and over, even the alcohol couldn’t drown it out.
Ianto Jones never saw his father again. Thanks to his boyfriend. I wish I could say Ianto lived out a full and happy life but that just isn’t true.
You probably want to know who I am or how I know so much about this story. Well I’ve been told the story many times by Ifan’s neighbours and by Jack Harkness himself.
My name is Mica Davies and I work for Torchwood.