Disclaimers: I do not own Torchwood or any of its characters.  I am making no money from this.  It is purely for entertainment
purposes only.

Summary: Ianto has a secret.  Set during series one, after Cyberwoman.

Warnings:  MPREG!!  I am a HUGE fan of Mpreg.  There are also hints of past child abuse.

Notes: Please remember that I am just another stupid American.  Please forgive any spelling or grammatical errors as I must
rely solely on my own knowledge.


Part Twelve

Ianto entered Owen's flat and frowned as he looked around.  He had expected some sort of mess, but was appalled at the total
disarray the dwelling was in.  "Well that proves that theory wrong."

Owen started clearing a path.  "What?"

Ianto waved about.  "I always thought you were just being lazy at the Hub because I was there to pick up after you.  I didn't
think anyone could live like that.  Now I can clearly see that I was wrong."

Owen turned to him and held up a finger.  "In my defense, I wasn't expecting anyone over.  I was gonna clear up before
bringing anyone here."

"I should hope so."  Ianto plucked a sock up off the back of a chair using the very tips of his thumb and forefinger.  He
wondered if the sock had always been gray, or if it had been white at some point in time.  "Ugh ..."

Owen snatched the sock away.  He sighed and led Ianto to the bedroom.  "Right, I'll just get some clean sheets, and YES, I
actually have clean sheets.  Once the bed's made up, I want you in it."

Ianto almost couldn't resist.  "I bet you say that to all your dates."

Owen smirked at him.  "You'll never know, Tea boy.  You'll never know."


In under twenty minutes, Ianto was changed into a pair of pajama bottoms.  He was lying on his side on the hastily made bed.  
The sheets were messy, but the bed should comfortable enough for him.  Owen cleared his throat and pulled a blanket up over
the man.  He felt uncomfortable with him being here.  It was undoubtedly worse for Ianto though.

"Anything I can get you?"

Ianto scowled a little as he tried to get comfortable.  "A way to get this baby out without hurting him or me would be nice.  
Aside from that, I can't think of anything at this exact moment."

"No luck there.  You'll just have to see this through to the end.  I don't want to take the risk, too many complications.  I don't
know enough of what I'm dealing with here."

Ianto grunted irritably.  "How long will I be stuck here?"

Owen scratched at the back of his head.  Ianto wasn't going to like his answer.  "Well, it'll be about seven to ten days before the
stitches can come out.  Probably another week before you heal enough to use the ring again."

"Two weeks?" Ianto croaked.  "I'm going to be stuck here for two weeks?  With you?"

"Oi, it's no dream come true for me either.  It's either here or you tell Gwen and Tosh and spend your recovery in the Hub."

Ianto mumbled a quiet, "Here," and clutched at his pillow.  He was obviously miserable, so Owen took pity on him.

"Look, mate, do you want me to send for some take-away or something?  It's just fourteen days.  Can't be that bad, can it?"

Ianto sighed and shook his head.  "No.  Look, I'm just really tired right now.  Thanks, Owen."

"Right, then."

He looked around and groaned as he remembered that he only had the bed and one chair in the living room that he could sleep
in.  Furnishing his flat had never been high on his list of priorities.  With a sigh, he resigned himself to either sleeping on the floor
or in that chair.  It would do in a pinch.  It wouldn't be the first time, though on most of the other occasions he had been either
too exhausted or drunk to get to his bed.

Ianto seemed to come to the same conclusion.  "Stop trying to decide what would be the least uncomfortable and get into bed.  
Damn thing is big enough for three.  You stay on your side, and I'll stay on mine.  That sound reasonable to you?"

Owen felt a rush of relief and nodded.  "Oh, hell yes, it does."  He looked around for a clean pair of pajamas, only to remember
he didn't have any.  With a shrug, he simply stripped down to his pants.

Ianto started pushing himself up.  "Owen?  What are you-?"

Owen snorted as he got into bed.  "Shut it, Ianto.  I haven't gotten around to washing my clothes, so I've got nothing else to
wear.  Just close your eyes and go to sleep."  He gave the flustered Welshman a grin.  "Trust me, mate, If I were going to start
something, I would have taken the shorts off."  He chuckled and curled up on his side of the bed.  It was too fun teasing the
younger man.


There was something wrong.

Owen knew that much as he groggily opened his eyes to a dark room.  He had been asleep, but something had woken him.  He
didn't know what.

His vision swam as he tried to focus on the clock by his bed.  Several blinks later, he discovered it to be barely past three in the

That was when he heard the first whimper.  With his sleep-muddled mind, it took him a moment to place the sound and realize it
was coming from Ianto.

Owen rolled over, propping himself up on one elbow, and stared at the Welshman's back.  The faint whimpers were interspersed
with whispered pleas.  Owen couldn't make out any words but he could hear the fear in them.  Ianto was shaking and he had
curled in on himself.

Nightmare, Owen decided.  With a resigned sigh, he shuffled closer to the other man.  If he wanted any sleep he'd have to do
something about this.  His first thought was to wake the other man.  However, he wasn't sure if that was a wise idea.  He
decided he'd try to let the Welshman sleep unless it was unavoidable.

He reached out and placed a hand flat against Ianto's trembling back.  He almost drew his hand back in shock.  "You're
freezing," he stated, not expecting a response.

Ianto only seemed to tremble more now that Owen's hand was touching him.  He whimpered a little louder, a barely audible,
"No," coming from him.

A simple touch obviously wasn't enough to ease his troubled mind.  Resigned, but not happy about it, Owen eased closer.  He
pressed his chest to Ianto's chill back, wrapping his arms around the younger man and pulling him close.

A brief struggle ensued as Ianto tried to jerk away.  Owen tossed a leg over Ianto's, keeping him from kicking.  He pressed a
hand to Ianto's chest.  "Calm down.  It's okay," he said, rubbing his hand over cool skin, trying to soothe him.  "You're safe
here."  He thought, then added softly, "The baby is safe."

It was several long seconds before Ianto calmed.  He mumbled and whispered, struggling faintly against Owen's resilient hold.  
"Tad ... sorry ... please," the words worried Owen, but he knew he wouldn't bring it up with Ianto when he woke.  It wouldn't
stop him from looking a little closer at Ianto's medical history though.  The thought that the younger man had even possibly been
abused, made Owen angry on his behalf.  Depending on how much he found, he might have to bring it up with Jack.

Owen kept a hold on him, whispering what he hoped was soothing words, stroking a hand lazily across the bare skin of Ianto's
chest and down along his abdomen, reversing direction just short of touching the protrusion of his stomach.  Since he fell back
into a restful sleep, Owen guessed his attempts at comfort were working.

Owen bit his lip and tried to shift away, to put a little more space between them.  In his sleep, Ianto pressed back against him,
following him.  Groaning in resignation, Owen flopped his head onto the pillow they now shared.  It didn't look as if he had
much choice.  If holding him would keep him calm, he might as well keep holding him.

For longer than he liked, Owen lay awake just holding Ianto.  When he was finally dozing, he heard the barest whisper from
Ianto's lips.


To Be Continued ...

Notes:  At this moment in time, Ianto is roughly five and a half months pregnant.  Ianto has put on a fair amount of weight
when it comes to the baby, seeing as he needs the extra cushioning for not being naturally able to get pregnant, so the bump is
about the size of a football (soccer ball for us Americans.)

Any more questions, feel free to ask and I'll try to answer them if I can do it without giving away too much of my story.