BTBD Challenge 70 - Persecuted

[m_findlow]

Title: Persecuted
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Ianto, Jack
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 1,927 words
Content notes: none
Author notes: Written for Challenge 70 - Prejudice at beattheblackdog
Summary: Ianto though he was plain enough to pass by unnoticed

He still couldn't figure out what exactly it was he'd done to upset or offend. Before he knew what had happened, he'd been surrounded by four or five locals, and not long after that, some sort of law enforcement officer had come along and cuffed him, garbling something untranslatable. He'd lost Jack in amongst the throng of people that had seemed to crowd about him on all sides. Worse was that they all had expressions that were anything but friendly, all scowling and muttering as he was slowly dragged away by law enforcement.

Two more officers appeared from nowhere, flanking him on each side. Whatever it was, it wasn't good. He tried to turn his body and search for Jack, but the officer tugged him sharply back into line and forced him to keep walking forward down the street. As they marched him along, he tried to ask questions about what was happening and to understand what he'd done wrong. They ignored his questions in English, and only shoved him along more roughly when he'd attempted them again in his fledgling Galactic Standard, which was still a work in progress.

 

He'd been left sitting in the tiny dark cell for an hour or so. He'd expected someone would come along and want to interrogate him about whatever he'd supposedly done. When no one did, he decided that maybe they were just holding him there until Jack could sort out the paperwork. Only after a further two hours did he start to worry that perhaps Jack wasn't coming because he too had been taken. What would happen then? It almost didn't bear thinking about. Had he committed some crime? Was he going to be put on trial?

 

Everything had been going so well up until a few hours ago. He and Jack had been enjoying taking in the delights of the city. It was big and sleek, busy and noisy. Jack had told him, think of a really modern New York City, and you were pretty close. He wasn't wrong either. The language of the locals was beyond him, but even that had a familiar American twang to it, like a thousand Jack's all talking at once, their conversations jumbled, but the essence and timbre all the same. Funnily, it had made him feel right at home.

Pausing near what looked like the alien equivalent of a hotdog stand, Jack let Ianto do the honors of ordering. It was a good chance for him to try out conversing in his growing vocabulary of Galactic Standard. It always felt and sounded a bit clunky when he spoke, his Welsh accent not really designed for the ups and downs of the intonations required to properly pronounce some words. That was the trick with having a universal language, you had to try and accommodate as many different kinds of species as possible, but it wasn't never going to fit everyone. Jack seemed to manage okay, but Ianto knew that he needed more practice, and this seemed as good a time as any.

He thought he'd done okay until he got halfway through and had to turn to Jack for guidance.

'How do you say, "none of that green stuff", whatever that is?' he asked, pointing to the slimy looking substance that was being liberally poured on top of the first of his orders.

He was under the assumption that he'd upset the vendor or his wares, because the vendor's face twisted into a snarl, barking something harsh and guttural at him, but when he tried to apologise, that just seemed to make matters worse.

Jack stepped in to smooth things over, but the vendor continued to grow more irate, yelling and pointing Ianto.

Ianto grabbed Jack's arm and started pulling him away, even as Jack was still having words, trying to coax him out of incensing the man any further, begging him to leave it behind, and then someone else began pointing and yelling at him. That was when the officer had interceded. Before he knew what had happened, people were swelling around them from the busy street, some stopping only long enough to make comment before hurrying on, and others making a point of ensuring he knew they weren't happy with him.

 

It was almost a relief to finally reach the stark grey building, the officers bundling him through the glass doors without preamble. Inside was a lot quieter than it had been out on the street, rubberneckers milling about and adding to the throng that had followed him all the way. Strangely there was no administrative slow down once he was inside. Instead he was quickly patted down, divested of his few possessions, wallet, phone, and most upsetting, his wedding band, then simply bustled into a tiny cell, and the door locked behind him. There he was left to dwell on his own confusion

 

The hours stretched on and it became clear that no one was coming for him. The thought of being stuck here made him feel sick. When finally then tiny slot in the door opened up, he was convinced it must be Jack, but all that sat on the other side was a battered metal tray with something that was meant to resemble food. He set it on the floor and resumed his vigil on the narrow ledge on the other side of the room. Food didn't interest him, even if it had looked edible, which it didn't. Food was what had gotten him into this mess in the first place.

The hours continued to drag on and he finally resigned himself to the idea that he was stuck here. Pulling off his jacket, he balled it up under this head and curled up on the ledge, finally falling into a fitful sleep.

 

The sound of the creaking door opening woke him, the tiny blade of light cutting through the darkness, temporarily blinding him. Without his watch, he didn't know what time it was, but he could guess it was deep into the night. Had they decided to come interrogate him when he was at his most vulnerable, hungry and sleep deprived? The silhouette in the doorway was short and stocky, but there was a second one just behind, taller. He'd have known that outline anywhere. He nearly fell over rising to meet it, receiving a warm embrace.

'We have to go,' was all Jack said as greeting, keeping his voice low and level.

He was given back his possessions, all done in silence as men continued to scowl at the pair of them, and then Jack took him by the hand and lead him out through the doors, out into the night. All the way back to where they'd left their modest spacecraft parked, they were accompanied by no less than three officers, who followed them at a short distance, their stern faces visible despite the late hour. Jack squeezed his hand, silently asking him to keep his questions to himself for the moment.

When finally they arrived at their vessel, one of the officers stepped up to Jack and had a brief conversation with him. Ianto didn't have to understand the words to hear the tone Jack used, which implied an assurance they wouldn't be coming back.

 

As soon as they were inside, Jack wrapped him up in a huge hug.

'I'm so sorry,' Jack apologised. 'I had no idea that was going to happen. They gave me the runaround for hours before they'd let you go. Something about not wanting to inflame the situation further, thus why they deported us under the cover of night.' He shook his head in a disappointed way. 'The last time I came here, things were much different.'

Ianto pulled back slightly, though not quite ready to let go altogether. 'What did happen? Did I do something wrong?'

'Oh, Ianto Jones,' Jack sighed, touching his cheek. 'You didn't do anything.'

Ianto frowned. 'I don't understand.'

Jack let out a vexed sigh. 'Apparently they've got real issues with Earth based humans.'

'But,' Ianto paused, 'they were human. Well, for the most part.'

'It was the English that they took offense to. Something must've happened here to make them hate it so much. Some kind of war or something.'

'So I upset them because I spoke English?'

'Like I said, I didn't know.'

Ianto wasn't sure how he felt about it. He'd never felt unsafe traveling with Jack anywhere, even when he didn't have a clue what people were saying. Jack had always warned him of particular quirks and customs wherever they went, making sure he didn't make eye contact, or always walked to the right, or nodded his head before speaking. He'd accepted that he might make the odd cultural faux pas here and there, but that it wouldn't be the end of the world. Jack was usually the one to offend and shock with his casual devil may care attitude, and his relaxed views on life and love. He'd never expected to find himself being despised because of his native tongue. If anything, he'd expected with the number of human based colonies across the universe, that he'd fit right in. It was actually quite scary and confronting to think there were places where he wasn't just unwelcome, but hated.

'You okay?' Jack asked, putting a reassuring hand on his arm.

'Just expected the universe to be a bit more accepting, I guess. You always used to tell me how much you hated twenty-first century Earth for all its prejudices. I thought it must be different out here.'

'It is, for the most part,' Jack replied. 'If we'd been kissing in the middle of the street, no one would have blinked an eye, but some kinds of hatreds run deep, and it takes a lot of open minded people to change them.'

For the first time, Ianto could finally understand what it was that had frustrated Jack all those years on Earth when he'd had to force himself to comply with social expectations. Having grown up white, middle class and catholic, he'd never had to worry about Earth's trivial prejudices. Even dating Jack out in public had been less of a drama than he'd expected, attitudes having slowly changed over the years. The last thing he expected was to get into grief on account of speaking the language he'd grown up with. For once even his Welsh would have landed him in less trouble.

'Ianto?' Jack said, waving a hand in front of his face, trying to get his attention. 'You are okay, aren't you?'

'Yeah. Fine. Just a little shaken is all.' He fingered his wedding ring, happy to have it back in place where it belonged.

'Well, since we've been duly deported, it looks like we need to find ourselves a new location.' Jack tried to keep things light. For all he knew, there'd be more than one instance where they'd land themselves, or each other, in hot water between now and eternity. All they could do would be to try and brush it off.

'So what do you say? Wanna pick our next destination?'

Ianto could see the little gleam in Jack's eyes that hinted at excitement and adventure. He wasn't about to let a few hours in the slammer dampen their enthusiasm.

'Could we go home?' Ianto asked. 'Not forever, but just for a little while.'

Jack hugged him again. 'Of course we can.' He didn't like to admit it, but he wouldn't mind a little slice of familiarity himself. Suddenly Earth seemed very welcoming indeed.