m_findlow

Title: Lost for words
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Ianto, Jack
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 570 words
Content notes: none
Author notes: Written for m_findlow's prompt "Any, any, using alphabet spaghetti to spell out their feelings" at fic_promptly
Summary: Ianto is having trouble communicating his feelings.

Ianto sighed as Jack set the bowl in front of him. He clearly thought this was him trying to be funny. He looked up at Jack who just shrugged and walked away before Ianto could think up a suitable punishment.

This sucked, he thought, feeling lower than he could remember having felt in a long time. No one could quite figure out what it was in the archives that he'd upset, only that it had left him with a complete inability to speak or converse in any meaningful way. He couldn't write down what he wanted to say, finding nothing but a long line of indecipherable scribble left in the wake of his pen. If that wasn't horrifying enough, it wasn't even neat, his usual penmanship having fled him altogether. Even Owen's writing was neater than this scrawl.

He'd tried typing on the computer as well, but once again all that he ended up doing was putting together a bunch of letters that meant nothing. Tosh had tried to send it through a translation program, but even his best gibberish didn't translate into anything. He seemed to have completely lost his grasp on the English language, and every other language he knew. Even Owen made a joke that his Welsh made more sense than what he was trying to say now. It had become embarrassing when Jack had pulled out the pack of magnetic poetry, trying to help him piece together whole sentences using predefined words. He trawled through the selection, but even if he'd been able to manage it, there were no words in the set that would form the sentence "would you just bloody well fix this!"

He wasn't much of a talker at the best of times, but not even being able to convey his most basic thoughts was actually far more upsetting than he cared to admit. He really wished he'd learned sign language at some point, and began to feel glum that he might be forced to, assuming that would work either. Without the ability to use words, he felt completely useless. He couldn't write reports, sort out archive records, run searches for the team whilst they were out in the field, or anything else useful. Right now all he could do was make coffee, clean up, and feel miserable.

Jack returned with a second bowl and sat down across from him at the table, beginning to eat. He paused between mouthfuls, seeing the despondent figure slumped over his own bowl, pushing the contents around with the spoon without actually eating any of it.

'You know this is hard on me too, Ianto,' he said. 'I miss those beautiful Welsh vowels more than anyone. We will fix it, though. Tosh and Owen won't rest until they've scoured the archives and tested everything within fifty feet. I won't rest until we've fixed it.' He reached out a hand and griped Ianto's, squeezing it tight in that way he always did when he wanted to be reassuring. It was just the kind of gesture he needed, one that didn't require words, but said so much.

Ianto twiddled the spoon around bit more before he dropped it, letting it clank loudly on the table.

Jack looked up. 'What is it?'

Ianto shook his head. Nope, it was just a coincidence, he thought. In the middle of the bowl of alphabet spaghetti he found the letters I <3 U.