[INBOX] inbox for torchwood_four

[theydrewfirstblood]

{phone, text, mail, gifts, smoke signals, Morse code, etc. for John Rambo}

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[action spam, about a week after she shows up]

[bloodychangeling]

[Usually, Toby would have thought of really taking care of her knife a lot sooner. As soon as she got her blood sugar levels up after getting disemboweled three times, probably. Which, okay, might take a few days.

But not a week.

And she knows why, as she puts the sheath on her hip each day without looking at the blade. Why the most she's done, since waking up in fucking Wales, is clean off all the blood.

If she sits down to take care of it, in some way that will be admitting she's staying here for any considerable amount of time. That it doesn't mean anything that her phone can't connect to the Luidaeg's line (multiple attempts. Every pattern of her fingers dancing over the phones keypad she could think up, nursery rhyme spells filled with more profanity with each one). That it's not entirely possible she'll have to wait out the years that apparently stretch between this place and the San Francisco she left behind and even then--

So she doesn't take care of her knife. Until one evening when she's standing from spending some time with Conrad (who really is a lot cuter than kelpies, even if she still has no damn clue what she's supposed to do with a horse, it's an alternative to hanging out in her own head), and in pressing her hands to her legs to stand up her hand touches the hilt and--

In case you don't scream fast enough

Dare's Spanish-accented voice rings in her head. Reminding her of why she used this knife as an excuse to go back into Blind Michael's lands. Why she'd refused to give it to Manuel. Why it has been strapped to fancy gowns as well as blue jeans.

Why she can't let it get ruined because she's too stuck in denial to do the little things she'd be doing back home without a thought.

Letting out a shaky breath, she forces her hand to relax before she goes looking for John. She's pretty sure even his willingness to accept her awkward, bitchy-especially-if-woken-before-two-PM nature would get tested if she actually comes to him looking too ready to stab something.]

[theydrewfirstblood]

[The closer Toby gets to the house, the clearer a familiar sound will get…well, two familiar sounds.

One, the sound of metal gliding on stone. The other? The quiet sounds of big band music playing, the final strains of a horn section ending one song before another begins a few moments later.

Following the sound won’t be hard: John can be found lounging on the wraparound porch, leaning back in his chair with his feet propped up on the railing. His phone is sitting in a speaker dock, a personal playlist turned low keeping him company as he works on a little maintenance of his own: taking a well saturated whetstone to his large survival knife.

He’s so absorbed in the meditative ritual he doesn’t notice her until one of the treads on the porch steps squeaks—a sound he’s keyed his ears to in the name of personal security. His old therapist at UNIT would probably frown on indulging his hypervigilance while resting, but it helps him relax.

And notice when he has company—welcome company, as John smiles softly when he sees Toby.]

Hey, you. [He nods to his phone dock, his smile growing.] Checking out some Meat Loaf—think I like it. C’mere, pull up a chair. There’s one down that way, behind you.

[Gift delivery, about 2 weeks after their talk in the garden]

[bloodychangeling]

[It had taken a little longer than Toby had expected to find someone who knew someone who could get fairy ointment--but then again, she's only used to the changeling society in the Mists. Wales seems to have more changelings--which isn't surprising given that she knows the Ludiaeg was born in Scotland--but she hasn't been able to find if they have any place like Home as a kind of central hub.

She's not sure if that's a good thing or not.

But she did get a lead on some eventually, and it had taken a little bartering but she's used to that. She'd promised to track the boyfriend of the Tylweth changeling seller's sister to find out if he was cheating on her, and the guy had been decent enough to part with some up front and agreed to talk out getting her a regular supply when she came through on her end of the bargain.

And, okay, Toby might have played up her need for it by making John into her thin-blooded half-brother, but it wasn't that far from the truth, and the sibling angle seemed to work well on the guy. That wasn't unusual with changelings who had siblings they actually spoke to; when you didn't fit into any world, you had to cling to the people who would make one with you. Devin wasn't the only reason so many stopped at Home.

Regardless, she comes back to the house one day with a plastic jar small enough to fit in a shirt pocket, and after checking that John's nowhere inside, sets it down carefully by his bedroom door with a scrap of paper tied to it with string explaining that he just needs to put a tiny bit over each eye kind of like sunscreen before hurrying back to her room.]

[theydrewfirstblood]

[John has become familiar with Toby’s stride—a habit he can’t shake, knowing someone by their footfall. Jack’s measured military stride, quicker than Gray’s, Ianto’s muted but brisk servant’s step—Toby’s carefully noisy footfall. She didn’t make a racket, just made sure not to sneak up on people unless she wanted to.

So when he comes in from taking Barry for a ride and checking on a newly pregnant mare (bit of an accident with a mare that was apparently still in season) and hears her scuttling around upstairs, he doesn’t worry about it. Hell, he relaxes enough to grab a snack, text Jack and Ianto for a while as he eats, and gang up against Jack with Ianto to refuse him phone sex until he catches up with his backlog of paperwork.

When he does finally head upstairs to change so he can work in the garden for a while, he spots the little package in front of his bedroom door…and once he reads the note, can’t help but smile as he starts towards her room, calling out.]

To-by! C’mere!

[action spam, the morning after their shared dream]

[bloodychangeling]

[Toby wishes she could try to pretend she forgot the dream, or at least didn't remember enough to recall what John had demanded of her. But she can't force herself to be enough of an asshole, especially when she knows how much he meant that oath, and she has to arm him with as much as she can, even if it's mostly information.
Information he'll hopefully never need.

So she just waits until the sun has finished rising so she can breathe and move, gets dressed--shrugging into her version of Tybalt's jacket (it's so weird that there's two of them now, but at least this means he can steal it to clean it up and get his scent back on it once in awhile, something she's trying not to think about but not as hard as she did awhile ago) and triple-checking her knife is in place as she does--and heads to the kitchen to down two cups of coffee as quickly as possible before heading out to the stables for a conversation she definitely doesn't want to have but can't afford to put off.]

[theydrewfirstblood]

[John ends up falling back asleep eventually—and is harder to rouse when Jack and Ianto come for him as a result. He’s honest, but circumspect: he slept like garbage because of bad dreams but not nightmares.

He just doesn’t mention how the bad dream ended.

As a result of dragging his ass, Toby beats him to the stables by a good twenty minutes. He’s got a travel mug of coffee from Ianto, a muffin forced on him by Jack, and he’s feeling almost human again when he finally walks in and spots Toby in the place he expects to find her: Conrad’s stall.

Wandering in, he greets Conrad with a ruffle of his mane and Toby with an offer of part of his muffin.]

Hey, you—‘member last night okay?

[action spam, mid-morning, three days after Pat&Di's arrival]

[uselessdandy]

[While he's still very out of sorts, to put it mildly, Simon is slowly beginning to…not relax, exactly, but allow himself to find bits of pleasure in finding himself in a different place and time than he expected to be. Not just enjoying the absence of her voice in his mind, or even the surprise of having Patrick and Dianda's company again.

No, it's the tinier things that he's allowing himself--being able to keep his own schedule without worry he'll be called to some monstrous task, watching the pixies and their 'changeling' kin around this property--and, this morning, working in the garden a little without the pressure of time hurrying his work. No potion to make in a hurry, no rush to get inside before Amy gets upset, nothing to put under stasis or set to its purpose in a certain time frame.

Just the sheer pleasure of having his hands in the earth and running over the plants to observe their condition, breathing in the refreshing scents of growing things that completely drowns out his magic and everything else to the extent he's only barely aware of the world around him, the back of his mind on alert for any coming footsteps but his conscious attention fully focused on the plants and the pixies that dart around from time to time.]

[theydrewfirstblood]

Hey—hey! Breeze, talk to your buddies? I don’t think they asked first.

[Breeze is suddenly swarming two pixies that are trying to pluck at one of Simon’s mint plants, chiming up a storm to scold them. John’s voice comes from the border of Simon’s new little allotment, where he’s busy digging up a dead lettuce plant and grinning at Simon over his shoulder.]

I got an agreement with them—any roughed up plant in my garden with a red flag tied to it is part of the community pantry. They leave the others alone and come to me if they need more resources. Might wanna offer them the same deal with a couple plants to cull in exchange for the safety of the rest.

[action spam; day after Ianto's Choice]

[hi_im_dad]

[To say Javic is rattled by the events of the last day would be an understatement. Just when he'd started to really feel settled on this planet--and not just because of Jones, though he's certainly been a great help--he's found out that some alien force wanted his child for…something…and some other creatures had found a mean to defend against them by changing Ianto's species.

Sure, he'd already figured out Toby wasn't totally human--after their first meeting she'd shown her 'real face' to him and Zia, who had been fascinated and understood right away that they weren't to tell anyone who wasn't part of their new ragtag family--and that John had a similar touch of difference, but he still couldn't quite wrapped his head around whatever had happened to Ianto, besides that it had clearly been painful.

He hates that he's grateful Zia was very good at tuning out sounds of violence.

At least that part is done. And while he's still on edge--well, more than he usually is--he's finding being out on the 'ranch' a bit of comfort. It's not like home, but it's not as claustrophobic as the city and Zia likes seeing the 'horses', that bear little resemblance to the creatures that had been described with that word in the old stories and pictures he recalled from his childhood. Which is why he's walking out to the stalls with them now, relieved to hear them chattering animatedly about everything and nothing and seemingly unaffected by yesterday's events.

And while Zia doesn't pull their hand from his when the two of them enter the stable to find Toby talking to to the black horse that she's apparently the most responsible for, their desire to do so is clear enough that Javic actually finds himself laughing a little.]

Go on. Stay where the grown ups can see you.

[as he releases his grip--feeling a knot of anxiety ball up in his chest like it always does when he lets go--he notices John nearby and feels uncharacteristically awkward around the man--unsure of what to say someone who had to watch his partner suffer for the sake of a near-stranger's child.

He doesn't know what to say to Toby either, but at least she is occupied with scooping Zia up with an ease that shows she definitely wasn't lying about having a small child at some point, and talking to them about…feeding the horse? He's not sure, but at least it's got her attention away from him.]

[theydrewfirstblood]

[John is just dusting off after trimming Barry’s hooves when Javic and Zia wander into the stables. They get swept up by Toby pretty fast, and seem delighted by the presence of Conrad.

Waving to Javic, he wanders over, wiping his hands on a rag before offering one to Javic with a smile.]

Hey, Jav—glad to see you on down time. You two havin’ fun out here?

[There’s a bright peal of laughter, and John glances over to see Zia feeding Conrad an apple slice, getting their fingers licked for traces left behind.

Chuckling, he faces Javic again.]

Well there’s half my answer.

[action spam, a few hours after Annie's arrival]

[bloodychangeling]

[After spending a little while with Conrad--well more than a little while, based on the position of the sun when she finally steps outside--Toby feels bad for the way she ran out after that weirdass bombshell this other version of the Luidaeg dropped, but she knew she couldn't handle staying in the room after that. If there had been something to stab or punch, she would've been fine. But as it was, she'd done the only productive thing she could, and after...that, she knew she'd just be a distraction to John and his partners.

Especially Jack, because she'd have a hard time not looking at him because she'd be seeing too much of herself.

After it seems like things have sort of calmed down, though, she feels obligated to at least check on John. She'd go talk to Jack, but she's sure he's both emotionally and physically wiped still and also probably needs to talk to his brother way more than her.

It's tempting to tell herself that Jack needs both of his partners right now so she should hold off, but if she does it now she'll probably wind up doing it for the whole nine months or however long it is for not-totally-humans like Jack, so instead she takes a deep breath and goes looking for the man who is apparently a lot more than adopted family, at least in some reality.]

[theydrewfirstblood]

[Once Ianto and John get Jack up to John’s room to nap—after downing some concoction that Annie assures them should help with Jack’s exhaustion when he wakes up—the two of them talk with her for a while. Comparing notes confirms that Annie’s Lawrence is John’s maternal grandfather. His child had been stripped by a hope chest for his own protection, but as Annie said: the Law is the Law. The end result was a spark of magic not even a hope chest could destroy, one John is still capable of tapping into.

John left Ianto and Annie to get acquainted after that. Unwilling to be a third wheel and equally unwilling to disrupt Jack’s sleep, he’s considering taking Barry for a ride when Toby comes up the path to the house, where John is standing on the porch to send a text to Ianto about where he’s going.

Looking up and spotting her, John grins and pockets his phone, moving to meet her halfway with a hug.]

Hey, squirt—feeling a little less ready to lose your mind?

[action spam, mid-morning the day after Ianto and Jack give John the bracelet]

[uselessdandy]

[While Simon had heard the joyful chaos when Gray raced downstairs that day John brought his ailing lover to the ranch house, he hadn't felt it was his place to interrupt--and, moreover, had been unsettled by the presence of the sister in law he hadn't seen since his daughter's disappearance, especially when he found out later that she wasn't the same woman he had known.

So he'd spent the last weeks keeping as busy as he could to not think about any of that, and luckily between assisting where he could with Ianto's training, working in the garden and assuring the pixies that John would return when he could and that he could help in the other man's absence, he had plenty of ways to keep busy.

But the evening before, when John returned to visit his partners, even his efforts to distract himself couldn't do anything to keep him from noticing the feeling of something---snapping inside his mind, if such a thing made sense. And it didn't at first, mostly because nothing did as he fumbled to set down his scissors and beaker while his vision blurred and his skull felt like it might well split in half--

Then just as swiftly as it had come, the pain left with a burst of snow and roses flooding his mouth and he'd felt…

Nothing. No, not quite that, but the…absence of something that had been there so long, he'd forgotten what it was to be without it.

He'd set aside his work for the rest of the night, forcing himself to attempt a little sleep so he could head out to the garden after dawn passed. He wasn't going to interrupt John in whatever he may be doing with his partners, but hopefully the man would want to spend some time on the grounds as well so they might be able to discuss…several things.]

[theydrewfirstblood]

[He wasn’t paying attention when it happened, not when he was wrapped up in being with his partners, settling down to eat and relax…

He attributed the strange mixture of flowers and frost and smoke and earth to the wine Ianto picked for dinner, the warm sand scent of his magic clinging to his skin. He chalked up the little rush of fresh energy to being able to rest with his boyfriends surrounding him, holding him—and later seducing him.

Rising with the breaking of the dawn is easy. He’s a little sore, kind of tired—feeling all of the lingering remnants of being well fucked and well rested. It’s fairly easy to sneak out of bed: Ianto is veering closer to nocturnal, just a little, and Jack still needs a lot of rest. It works for him, though: he wants to see the horses, check in with Breeze and the other pixies, and…]

…Simon.

[Spotting him as he approaches the garden, John walks over and offers him his hand with a smile.]

Was hoping to hang out with you while I was here. How you doing, man?

[action spam, two nights after kitchen talk]

[capthardness]

[While Toby's reassurances and attempts to relate to him--not to mention John and Ianto's presence--in the aftermath of his mind putting him back on theHades helped more than Jack expected, he's still…well, him. So of course the fear didn't entirely leave, not by a long shot, but it didn't follow him into his dreams again when he went back to bed that night. Or even the one after. Which was…strange, and a touch unsettling in a way he couldn't really explain even to himself.
So when he finds himself standing on a very familiar mound of sand and patchy grass two nights later, he's not happy but at least it makes sense, as much as his psyche ever does--

Until he realizes this is so much clearer than most of his dreams or nightmares, even ones that are perfect recreations of real events. That, along with the fact that it's almost entirely quiet aside from the sounds of the wind and water, that there's no screams coming from the land or sky…

He's been having this dream off and on for a while now starting long before any of the Fae business for reasons he can't pin down, a memory he knows he lost long before his time under the city, and it's always just…different from his other memories. He always feels like he's watching, instead of actually being there--and that should worry him, it should be unsettling to actually see himself and…everything, but…it doesn't.

As much as it always hurts, he can never force himself to try and wake up. Not from this, the one clear memory he has of his father happy and alive. But now, when it's impossible to keep himself from thinking about the impossible task of living up to his own parents along John and Toby's attempts at assuaging those fears, not to mention the fact that apparently his dream-self's body is still matching up to waking one…

Now, his feet are frozen in place as he listens to the water and wind…and the distant sounds of two painfully-familiar laughing voices.]

[theydrewfirstblood]

[When John finds himself dreaming, at first he’s afraid because he thinks it’s his. The blistering heat, the endless stretch of sand…

It takes a few minutes to realize the air is too damp, to smell the salt of sea air that clings to Annie and to Ianto’s hair when he works on shapeshifting. To recognize the smell of sand as the one that permeates Ianto’s magic.

This isn’t a desert. It’s a beach.

While John is wandering, looking for the source of this dream, Ianto ends up in the dream within eyeshot of Jack. He jogs up to him, laying a hand on his shoulder—then pulls him into a hug.]

Hey…you all right?

[action spam; early in second month of last trimester]

[uselessdandy]

[Simon's been hesitant to approach John on any matter besides the garden and pixies these last months, knowing the man had quite a lot on his mind and he and Ianto were both clearly very good at planning. But there's some part of him that wants to be of more use…and that can't help feeling a painfully sweet longing for the days before August's birth, when the work of putting together her room that couldn't be done with magic had been left to him.

And he's aware that while they've all been trying to stay near for the obvious reasons, Ianto and John both have work elsewhere that keeps them occupied a great deal of the time. He's sure they've sorted out the absolutely necessary matters, but a child needs more than a place to sleep and be cleaned.

He's not sure if it's the breaking of his geas, or Dianda and Pat's presence or something else entirely that allows him to finally summon up the nerve to approach John when he's working in the stables one morning, not worrying a bit about the dirt on his own hands from caring for the garden before he came over.]

I've been thinking [he starts, trying to sound casual instead of nervous--the worst that will happen, surely, is John saying he and his partners have things handled. Still, he can't help but thinking of how Amy tended to react to such things, to him presuming she couldn't handle things all on her own..] have you and your partners made any decisions in how you plan to decorate the room for your new arrival?

[theydrewfirstblood]

[John happens to be working with a new foal when Simon arrives. The colt is a coal black beauty and shy, bred from one of the Camarillo whites John’s been working with to get a horse for Ianto.

He’s fairly certain this is the one—and yeah, he enjoys working with the babies with his own due in just a few more weeks.

He’s just kneeling with the colt, getting him used to having his feet touched when Simon approaches—and his question gives John pause because that’s something which, on the rare occasions they’ve discussed it, they couldn’t agree on anything.]

Not really. [The admission comes with a sheepish smile.] Kid’s gonna have two rooms for one thing, since the three of us don’t live together, and for another we can’t agree on shit. Culture clash—some of what I want’s too gendered, some of what Ianto wants is too uptight, and the few opinions Jack lets himself have are a little over the top.

[action spam, evening after nursery reveal]

[bloodychangeling]

[While she'd chatted with him a little in the morning after she'd had her coffee and went out to the stables to hang out with Conrad, Toby's left John alone most of the day so he can be with Ianto and Jack. She knows something besides the baby's impending arrival has Ianto rattled, and even if that wasn't the case she figures they all need as much uninterrupted together time as possible.

She does know that Simon showed them the nursery, though, and given that no one's been up there with a hammer or paint she figures it went over well enough with all the three of them that it's as good a time as any to give them her own, tiny contribution.

It feels weird handing it over to just one of them, though, and she doesn't want to interrupt any 'private time', PG or not, so she's just leaving her room with the package she'd paid extra to have professionally wrapped so it'd look good, preparing to leave it and the little card with her name scrawled on it outside the nursery door, not even thinking that one or more of them might be hanging around there instead of in their bedroom or something.]

[theydrewfirstblood]

For the last time, no.

For the last fuckin’ time, bite me.

[Ianto’s clipped accent first, John’s perpetually soft and careful deep voice second. When Toby reaches the open door, the pair are having some kind of standoff over the crib until John spots Toby with an expression of gratitude.]

Tobes—c’mere, I need help. Jack’s resting his back and my asshole boyfriend won’t let me decorate my fuckin’ daughter’s crib.

[Ianto rolls his eyes at that’s glancing over his shoulder at Toby.]

He wants to hang something too close to tiny grasping hands and—hello, what’ve you got there?

[action spam, about two weeks after Val's birth]

[capthardness]

[Under most circumstances, Jack would have used the fact that John hadn't cornered him as soon as he'd recovered from the blood loss as an excuse to tell himself that little ultimatum nine months back. But now, with Ianto still clearly rattled from whatever visions he'd had and might still be having if Val's future self was right, and knowing they'll all have to address that together sooner rather than later…

Jack knows John well enough to know he hasn't forgotten, and he'd really rather get that fight out of the way before the two of them figure out what to do about what's gnawing at Ianto. Because he's sure there'll be some sort of fight, even if he's still positive he made the right call.

So once he's sure he's well enough that neither of his partners will insist on accompanying him everywhere out of fear he'll collapse (he's been fine for over a week, but he's not going to tell them to shove off after what happened), Jack waits for an afternoon where Ianto's been at least trying to be occupied with something in the archives for a few hours and the version of their daughter who needs the most attention is hopefully going to be sleeping for another hour or so before leaving his own office to find John for one of the last conversations he ever wants to have.]

[theydrewfirstblood]

[Baby Val is, in fact, asleep—which is why John is in her room.

He can’t help it, not when she’s so small—not when he loves her so much. The people he loves will never be safe, never be free.

You take me with you?

Jack and Ianto, they at least have armor against the menace of him, but not this tiny baby snuffling softly as he watches her nap. She’s pale and dark, his daughter, his son (she’s explained that much about herself, gender as beautifully nuanced as her Daddy), and he hasn’t known anything as beautiful as this little person since…

The footfall in the doorway draws his attention. Seeing Jack, he smiles, gives Val one last long look, then smooths her hair and leaves the side of her crib to walk over and kiss Jack hello.]

Hey, Angel—what’s up?

[action spam - evening after the music+sexuality talk]

[capthardness]

[Despite all his anxieties before Val's birth, Jack hasn't spent nearly as much time hovering around the nursery as John. It's something he hasn't been able to really explain to either of his partners, or even really to himself, but most of his paranoia about something happening to her has dissipated to the point he's comfortable leaving her unattended or with someone else more often.

(Most being the operative word; he and Javic still have a very large reason to be afraid for their children, after all, but Jack at least has many more people he trusts with Val's safety and proof that she does survive into adulthood in at least one timeline)

But for what he's sure are glaringly obvious reasons, he's found himself volunteering to take night-time feeding and soothing duties more often than not the last three days. He knows that Toby would gladly help out as she has in the past to try and help Ianto stay more diurnal, but she hasn't done that much since 'Johnny' showed up, and the couple times she's walked by the open nursery door at night, Jack's seen something in her eyes that makes him pretty sure she understands a lot more of why he's in there than either Ianto or John would.

Which is why he's in there now at half-past three with a fussy infant who hasn't settled after a bottle and changing, softly singing as he slowly paces the room with her against his bare chest, quiet enough to not wake anyone else but still loud enough that anyone passing by the cracked door might hear]

"Someone is waiting, warm as Susan, frantic and touching as Amy…"

[theydrewfirstblood]

[Johnny isn’t sure why, but he’s having a hell of a time sleeping.

It’s not that he doesn’t feel safe, he does. Safer than he’s felt in literal years, and despite not having school to worry about, he’s fairly busy. He’s been taking care of the horses (especially since he found out he has one of his own and he’s a fucking Shire draft horse), and the more he’s shown what he can do the more they just…let him.

He’s actually proving his worth, and it’s a great feeling. Still, even when he’s dead tired and ready to pass out for the night, he just…can’t.

It’s like something is missing. A pillow, a blanket—wrong mattress maybe? He’s not sure.

So he hears the distant sound of Val crying. He hears the footsteps, sees the lightening of shadows in the hall as a light burns—he can’t sleep with a closed bedroom door.

Dad can just bust the damn thing like he always does, and Johnny feels safer being able to see him coming.

So when he knows her dad is with her, and he can still hear whimpering and the occasional wail—and he can’t fucking sleep…

He’s surprised to hear music, then realize it’s just singing—Captain Harkness, with Val in his arms whining and wriggling unhappily against his bare chest…

Yeah, he looks. He can’t help it—but peeking through the cracked open door he’s more focused on Val and the way he handles her. Cuddling her close, rocking as he walks…and he’s singing to her. He’s got a nice voice, too, and it never wavers no matter how she cries or squirms. He just…holds her so close…

There isn’t a single indication that he’s losing his patience, but Johnny can’t quite shake that reflexive anxiety that has him knocking on the door and stepping in—just to be there. Just in case.]

Hey—uh, you guys okay in here?

[action spam, about a month after John's de-aging]

[uselessdandy]

[Simon has been trying to tell himself for months now that he has simply been waiting for the right time to take John up on his offer to come and stand at his side while he tells October what so many should have told her decades ago. And he thinks he has some excuse in that, considering how many things have happened in those months.

But that's the problem. It seems that no matter where she goes, there is no 'good time' in October's life. There is always going to be some crisis, or at the very least some very large distraction like her adopted brother suddenly becoming decades younger than he'd been hours before. So it really has just been an excuse for cowardice, like so many things in Simon's life have been. And he's already failed October in so many ways, knows how much she hates being lied to and even if she might not trust him, he owes her…so much, really, but he can at least give her one of the things even his own brother has refused to grant her--the truth.

Which is why he does his best to make his customary morning visit to the pixies brief, promising he'll linger more later because he knows if he makes a social call to them now he will use it as a reason to avoid the thing he has to do…which is going to the stables, where he knows John and October will be. Best not give her reason to think he's forced John to hide his plans, after all.

…but once he's in view of them, he finds his tongue uncharacteristically frozen, and not by any spell but his own fear. Fear of how October will see him, when she's only just begun to relax and occasionally smile in his presence, when she realizes just why he is her father in the eyes of Faerie. So he doesn't call out…but he also doesn't turn tail, which has to count for something]

[theydrewfirstblood]

[John's been helping Toby with most of Conrad's care. He knows her issues with horses, but she's close to Conrad, and he's seen days where the increasingly large Shire horse is more interested in just resting his head on her shoulder and soaking in her presence than he is in sugar cubes ore carrots. They're both pretty enchanted with each other...but he is massive, and she's better, not suddenly without trauma.

So he helped her learn to groom him, to bed him down. He's shown her how to trim his hooves, check them for injury--all aspects of his care, she's now learned.

However, grooming--managing his coat, mane, and tail are the only things he's sure she's taken up alone at this point, because he always checks Conrad on his rounds. And some things he still won't allow her to do alone unless she demands it.

She hasn't yet demanded to be allowed to trim his hooves. Which is fair--even Barry's kind of a shit sometimes.

Conrad's sweet as hell, however, and John has to check to make sure the yearling is awake when he comes around to do the front--yeah, he's awake, he's just got his big nose tucked against Toby's shoulder, happy as a clam.

Before John can kneel to start Conrad's front feet, he spots Simon and stills. Meeting his gaze, he feels...not pain, but pressure that promises pain if he goes too far, and with it the smell of damp earth and woodsmoke rises in the air.

I get it. It's okay.

His magic levels out, and the pressure in his head slowly fades as he resolves to honor his oaths and smiles at Simon, beckoning him forward.]

C'mon over, man--have you met Conrad? Tobes, have you met Simon's girl yet? Almost getting too big to call a filly anymore.

[text; sent same evening as Simon's talk with Toby]

[capthardness]

[While Jack isn't known for his patience especially when it comes to sex, given the specific thing he's been thinking about asking for, he'd decided it was best to wait a bit after John recovered from being a teenager again and they'd all settled into…as much of a routine as they can find, considering. Get used to going out into the field again, sorting out something of a regular schedule when it comes to which home Val's going to be at when, that sort of thing. Jack might not be the most practical person at times, but even he figured it wasn't the best idea to spring something like this on John right after getting back to Cardiff.

Not that it's been easy to just think about it, particularly since given the nature of the thing he hasn't said a word to Ianto. Not that he thinks Ianto will react particularly negatively, but still.

But after a particularly exhausting day--half of it spent dealing with a couple carnivorous, neon-colored sheep like things and the other half dealing with all the paperwork resulting from the carnivorous neon-colored sheep--that's left him mentally drained and wanting for that calm that he's only been able to find in putting everything into John's hands, he decides to at least throw the idea out there and see how John reacts. At the very worst, he'll turn it down and suggest something else. And at best…well.

He waits until he's got the last of the absolutely necessary paperwork dealt with to avoid as much ire from Ianto as possible, before taking out his mobile.]

To paraphrase a particularly handsome man, been thinking about a scene I don't necessarily need, but one I've been wanting for a while.

If you're up for at least negotiating taking another shot at blindfolding me again, lemme know where and when.

[theydrewfirstblood]

[When John finally gets back to his room to decompress after the whole deal with Toby and Simon, he’s actually glad for the text from Jack—even after reading it.

One of these days, he’s going to have to talk to Jack about it: the thing he didn’t understand during John’s rash of nightmares about Project Phoenix. That, if only for a moment, he’s sure of it now.

Somewhere in his warped state of dreaming-but-not, maybe connected through their time in the Dreamscape, he had been there under the earth with him for at least a moment.

So the request gets a raised eyebrow, but he answers pretty quickly.]

Ian wants time alone with Val still, right? See if he’s up for this weekend. Then you can come up here for a couple days and we can take our time. Pause if the discussion bothers you, maybe take a walk while we hash things out—and because we know how these discussions end, keep some lube handy. ;)

[action spam; very early the morning after Jack's rescue]

[uselessdandy]

[Rationally, Simon is aware he should at the very least be frightened. He knows better than any of them the damage Oleander can do to a body without stopping a heart, will carry the marks of his time at her side for the rest of his days. But that is, strangely, what made it easy for him to get through the events of the previous night. He knows what she could do, but she doesn't know him. He spent a century observing her, learning how to please and distract her. He'd committed some of his worst sins not for his First but to keep Oleander from committing even darker acts with far less remorse to temper the violence. He knows both of them broke Rayseline's mind, took October from her family--but he did it to save their lives.

That line of thinking had made it easy to imprison his innocent niece in darkness, made it easier still to turn the girl who should have been his daughter into a fish. At least now it is only leading him to plan.

While he's aware that John's binding is meant to drag Oleander to him, Simon can't trust that will mean she is brought close enough to restrain before she can cause more damage. He knows from experience she can, and will, expend magical energy on portaling just a foot away if it means getting what she wants, and if she cannot be immediately shackled in iron to dampen her power she'll do that and so much worse.

It's with those thoughts in mind that, after doing all the brewing he can and knowing too well sleep will evade him even with his room fully lit, he fetches the longbow that's been left unused since his arrival in this place and walks to where he knows John has placed several targets for such a purpose.

He'll never be as useful in a fight as his brother or October, but at least if Oleander is brought too far from John's hands to be captured in a moment he can try to prevent her from doing even more damage to others who deserve that pain far less than himself.]

[theydrewfirstblood]

[Simon may or may not notice a firearm paper target or two posted on some of the hay bales at John’s makeshift archery range. Human forms rather than the bullseyes that are elsewhere…

John thought he caught a whiff of sulfur while shooting, and had buried his knife in a tree several feet from the range. It’s not surprising that Simon wouldn’t see him while he was still working it loose from the trunk a few yards from the firing line—and being unobserved, John hangs back for a few minutes to watch Simon shoot. It’s…weirdly soothing.

Simon looks ready to collect his arrows when John finally walks closer, his compound bow in hand as he calls out to Simon.]

How long you been shooting?

[action spam, just after John's conversation with Simon]

[capthardness]

[Unsurprisingly, Jack's been up all night; even if he wasn't humming with energy thanks to who-knows-how-many deaths in the last twenty four hours, he probably would have stayed up to avoid the things he knows are lurking in the darkest corners of his mind. Considering what's out in the light, he really doesn't want to face whatever his unconscious decides to dredge up.

At least watching John and Val had been a decent distraction for a good few hours. He'd gotten up eventually to put Val in her crib, which in itself took up more time as he got her settled again. And even after she got back to sleep he'd lingered in the nursery long enough for John to get up, probably to prepare for whatever he was planning to do to this Oleander. Even if he'd had the mental energy to do so, Jack wouldn't have stopped him; he knows he'd be just as furious if their positions had been switched, which is another part of why he really doesn't want to talk about any of it. He knows the things he wants to say, that he'd been unconscious for probably a good quarter of the whole ordeal or how tame it had been in comparison to other things he's been through, won't be at all reassuring--and the things he doesn't would just prompt further concern and rage from both of his lovers.

All of which really makes him wish he had some decent way to occupy his time that would keep them from asking after his emotional state without seeming like he was hiding.

For the moment, he's settled for sitting in the kitchen with a cup of coffee (if he were just a bit less with it, he'd probably laugh about Ianto's coffee being one of the most reliable things in his world even when everything else is going to shit), and directing what little focus he has to not worrying at the metal tags that are once more resting against his chest.]

[theydrewfirstblood]

[John wasn’t surprised Jack hadn’t slept: he knows the drill with his condition. He wasn’t surprised that Jack was still awake when he came in from target practice and strategy with Simon. It’s not upsetting or abnormal.

When he gets in, finds Jack in the kitchen, and sees no evidence of the tags yet—that surprises him. And upsets him.

Because Jack is not okay, and pulling the tags out is instinct now. John has seen it—meaning Jack is choosing not to reach for them.

He doesn’t want a repeat of Alex in the Dreamscape or worse…but it seems like this is where they’re heading, and that just fucking hurts. Sure, pisses him off, too, but with a clearer plan on how he wants to make Oleander pay he can lay the anger aside for a while.

So John walks over to kiss Jack hello, moves to fix himself a cup of coffee…

…then very deliberately sits in the chair beside him and lays a hand on the back of his neck, right over the chain of the tags.

And waits.]

[Text; about two weeks after Oleander's death]

[capthardness]

[He almost hates to admit it, but Jack has been sleeping better since John killed Oleander.

True, he's still not sleeping a lot--he has no clue how many times she killed him, but it was clearly enough to more than top off his system on the energy or whatever it is he gets flooded with when he comes back--but, as he settles back into what passes for a normal schedule back in Cardiff, he actually is managing an hour or two here and there.

And while he may not need it and is mostly just catching some clearly-real rest now and again to make Ianto and John worry a little less, the fact his dreams are mostly free of blood and violence is definitely doing a lot to help him feel almost normal again.

He's not remembering most of his dreams, actually, and he'll take that over the majority he remembers for very unpleasant reasons.

Except last night--this morning, really, since he'd gotten back to the flat around dawn, courtesy of what was basically a very radioactive bouncy ball some intergalactic tourists must have lost on their way by--his cat nap ended not because of his mobile going off, but because of things far south of his brain being roused by some very memorable dreams.

Memorable at least in part because they'd been based on things that happened, even if they'd also taken place in dreams.

While his libido definitely hasn't been latent since his run-in with Oleander, Jack is still immensely pleased to find that his first reaction to the thought of certain nights that included the creative application of ropes and bandanas is arousal and not panic. Even if certain aspects of those nights have him…not afraid, but way more hesitant than he'd like.

And it's that annoyance at himself--and her--that has him reaching for his phone to text John at the end of the day.]

If we can get a break from overly-dramatic alien and fae crap for a bit longer, I'd like you to take charge in a scene.

['like', shit, he's been aching for it since long before the steamy dreams, that was just the last nudge he needed.]

I'll keep my safety words in place, but other than that, leaving it all up to you. If it weren't necessary to sort out our schedules I'd tell you to take me completely by surprise. As it is, I'l just leave it up to you how much or how little you want to share with me ahead of time. Or with Ianto.

[theydrewfirstblood]

[After Oleander does, John crashes hard. A nap turns into sleeping for eighteen hours straight—the only reason he doesn’t get carted off to the med bay is Annie pointing out that John was likely suffering from magic burnout. The binding had been using his magic this whole time, he’d likely been empowered by it to do things no thin blooded changeling should be capable of…

He comes out of it feeling better, if hungrier than usual for a couple days—and catching Jack sleeping peacefully off and on does wonders for his recovery.

Still, John worries a little. Ianto seems fine, has seen Jack through some rough things before, but the reassurances can’t quite quell those buzzing doubts about Jack seeing him do those things to Oleander…

Then he gets Jack’s text, and once he can breathe around the wave of relief and the clutch of lust…]

You got it. Love you.

[He says nothing more because he wants to do just that: surprise Jack with the surprise. He’s had good results from ambushes before, but he has to be careful. He wants to do something good for Jack, but make sure he doesn’t trip over any land mines left behind by Oleander, so he needs time to think while Ianto helps with keeping him appraised of Jack’s schedule…and his state of mind.

John decides to do the scene alone, but Ianto helps as his sounding board. It takes a whole week of texting, phone calls, and a sneaky trip to Cardiff to set some things up once he has a game plan. They set it up to coincide with a planned date night: all four of them in Cardiff at the same time.

Even baby Val. Toshiko is coming by to pick her up to babysit, but she’s not due for a half hour yet. It’s just the three of them in the sitting room of the flat, playing with her on the floor while she crawls around and keeps trying to find her feet. It’s early yet, but she’s well ahead of the curve for normal babies—developing normally for the daughter of a 51st century man.

It’s a time and place where Jack will feel the absolute safest—and a perfect time to spring the loving trap on him.

John has gotten up off the floor to join Jack on the couch while Ianto is sprawled on his stomach, encouraging Val to crawl over and ‘catch’ him. Settling next to Jack, John wraps an arm around his shoulders, pulls him flush against his side…

…and in a move ripped straight out of Ianto’s book of gentle sadism, idly runs his fingers along the chain resting against Jack’s nape, back and forth, making sure he stays aware of that brush and press of metal on skin.]

So, uh…what would you say to a slight change to date night, my good boy?

[action spam, about three days after Cinna's arrival]

[mocking_jay]

[Later, Katniss will think that she should have been prepared for the nightmares to come back with Cinna. As much as she likes him even if she doesn't really know him, the fact is that they only met because of the Games. He was the one who made sure she would be remembered as more than the girl who Volunteered to take her sister's place, and she doesn't resent him for playing his role but it's still impossible to shake that association.

Still, she's not prepared for where her sleeping mind takes her three days after his arrival. It's not even that she's in the Arena that surprises her, it's what's happening. What she's doing.

She watches her own hands cut the branch holding the tracker jackers' nest, hears their angry buzzing growing louder.

…sees the girl tribute from District 1, Glimmer, screaming as the insects sting her face and arms. Falling to the ground, limbs jerking with violent spasms before she goes terrifyingly still.

Katniss knows, now, that much of what she sees after--how much Glimmer's limbs seemed to have swollen in just a few minutes, the green ooze that comes from the lumps left by the tracker's stingers--couldn't have been real and was just the tracker jacker's poison affecting her own mind. Even in the nightmare, she has a dim awareness that she can trust her own senses.

That doesn't do anything to keep her from gagging as she breaks several of Glimmer's fingers in an attempt to free the bow from her rigid grasp, and when she sees the flesh falling off the girl's arm as she tries to roll her over, she can't stop herself from gagging. Not in the dream…

…and not in reality, either. Thankfully like that day she manages not to actually get sick all over the place, although that may just be thanks to reflexively covering her mouth before she's even fully conscious, trying to muffle the horrible choking sounds she tends to make when she cries. She justifies that to herself by remembering there's a sleeping baby nearby, tries to force herself to stop panicking the same way she did that day…the same way she did after Rue was killed.

You have to calm down, Katniss. You can't wake everyone up, Katniss.

She's only vaguely aware the words aren't just in her head, that she's breathing them out against her palm as her breath keeps coming in heaving, hitching gasps. ]

[theydrewfirstblood]

[Thanks to Cinna's arrival and Katniss just being around, John...has been struggling with nightmares again.

He's talked to his partners about it: nothing they did, nothing anyone did. An overabundance of empathy and shared experience has just shaken something loose that needs to settle again. The bad ones, where he can't remember where he is or what year it is, they're there to bring him back to himself. He lets them, cleaves to them, hides from his demons between those familiar bodies until sleep returns and gives him peace.

The less intense ones, however, he handles on his own. That's the deal he has with Ianto and Jack: submit to caretaking when it's bad, be truthful when using his own judgment otherwise. Once or twice he's woken Jack to sit with him, one night Ianto was already awake, as was Toby, and they had a James Bond mini marathon until he fell asleep on the couch.

Tonight, it's mild: the prison camp, the second time. They've even softened now with the memory of Jack in neutral tans, stark against all the green, blood in his eye and murder on his lips, all for the love of John. The memory of electricity racing through his limbs, though, the vile smell of the pit they left him in and the sting of wounds left by leeches, it's enough to rouse him.

He's heading to check on Val when he hears the frantic whispers, just barely. Muffled into a pillow, maybe?

John makes a beeline for the room, and goes straight to where Katniss is in bed. Sitting on the edge, he gently lays his hand over hers where it's resting against her mouth just in case he startles a scream, the other just as gently wrapping around her forearm so she won't strike him.

He doesn't know what the dream is, but he doesn't need to.]

Katniss--Tater, look at me. Look in my eyes, it's John Rambo. You're in Wales, I have nightmares, too. You're not in any danger.