"Yeah, yeah. I'll go back." Barty rolled his eyes and got up, but then he hesitated. He paused. "Have you ever killed someone, Ianto? You were so worried I'd hurt you. So, tell me. Who have you hurt? Who's been scared of you?"
Pressure points, huh? He could pay that back in kind. No one hurt someone under his protection and got away with it.
"Yes. I did. Once. It wasn't-- I didn't do it on purpose." He had been trying to save his girlfriend, he hadn't meant to hurt anyone. It was an accident. And then there was Jack. He killed Jack before but did that even count? Was it cruel to not let it count. "I hurt Jack. He hurt me. I tried to kill him. And of course, Jack knows. He forgave me." And it didn't matter if he forgave himself, that was between himself and his conscience.
"Why are you asking?" It was to get under his skin, wasn't it? "What are you after? Dirt? Because Jack knows everything." So there, that little plan failed. Ianto had to smile, a small victory.
"Do you forgive yourself?" He wondered. Sam never did that. Sam was always too harsh on himself. Sam was too harsh on the whole world, honestly. But that wasn't important right now. "Did you know that I can make you forget things? I'm good at that. Sometimes they never remember again. I can also make you remember things. Make you remember things that never happened."
Barty leaned forward, wondering how far he'd go here. But then he thought of Jakobus. Of his brother, of the boy with the wide eyes that looked frightened so often. The one they might be trying to track now, even though he should be kept out of all of this. "Remember the little boy you held down. The one who was locked up and who only wanted to be happy with his mommy and his daddy. And you held him down to experiment on him. Remember that. Remember how scared he was. He screamed. He just wanted to be loved. Remember how you didn't care."
"No... No, that's not-- I didn't. Why would I do that?" Ianto fought against it because it didn't make sense to him. It was there now, like a clear image in his head, but he had never hurt a child in his life. Not once. He knew that, he knew it as a fact, so why was this so clear in his head. "Don't put stuff in my head..."
He never forgave himself, of course he didn't, there was no way. He didn't even like upsetting Bill and now this. He closed his eyes and tried to push it away from his mind. "Why would I lock up a boy?"
"Because he was useful, of course." Barty said it calmly as he watched Ianto. It was interesting to see him care this much. "You remember how you told him lies to ply him. Made false promises. Or, worse, sometimes you'd give him a treat, just so he'd pathetically hope for more. A bit of affection. A toy. Books, he always loved books. You remember, of course, you didn't care about him. You just needed him to be a good little puppet. Do what you want."
He could see Jakobus now as clearly as always. Always that little boy in his mind. Bloody nose and wide eyes, waiting to be saved. "You remember looking at him crying and trembling in fear and thinking that it's working. When you made him listen to the other's screams and he just begged for it to stop."
Ianto put his hands over his ears and desperately tried to block it out. He didn't want to do that, why would he do that? It was so cruel. He was just a boy. And he didn't even remember his face or his name. He closed his eyes and shook his head. "No, no, you're lying! I don't do that! I've always just -- no." And despite his protests, it felt real, it felt like guilt that had always been crushing down upon him and he didn't know why he'd do it.
"Please, don't make me--" Remember? Believe? He wasn't sure. "I can't." He was just a boy. Why would he do that to be a boy?
"Weak little boy. So often had a nosebleed. All he wanted was to be protected and you turned it against him. You turned him into your tool. And you never, ever cared!"
Barty yelled the last word and then he got up and headed for the stairs. "I'm going to go lock myself in, Ianto. Why don't you sit quietly somewhere and think about what you've done until Jack Harkness comes back, hm?"
A little boy with a nose bleed. A weak boy. That he tormented in such a cruel way just to use him. Use him for what, he didn't even know. It was a strange memory, very hazy, like it was there but it wasn't and it wasn't real, he knew it wasn't real, but it felt so real. It felt like he'd done it.
He watched Barty leave and he had to wonder - was that little boy in his head real?
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Pressure points, huh? He could pay that back in kind. No one hurt someone under his protection and got away with it.
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"Why are you asking?" It was to get under his skin, wasn't it? "What are you after? Dirt? Because Jack knows everything." So there, that little plan failed. Ianto had to smile, a small victory.
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Barty leaned forward, wondering how far he'd go here. But then he thought of Jakobus. Of his brother, of the boy with the wide eyes that looked frightened so often. The one they might be trying to track now, even though he should be kept out of all of this. "Remember the little boy you held down. The one who was locked up and who only wanted to be happy with his mommy and his daddy. And you held him down to experiment on him. Remember that. Remember how scared he was. He screamed. He just wanted to be loved. Remember how you didn't care."
no subject
He never forgave himself, of course he didn't, there was no way. He didn't even like upsetting Bill and now this. He closed his eyes and tried to push it away from his mind. "Why would I lock up a boy?"
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He could see Jakobus now as clearly as always. Always that little boy in his mind. Bloody nose and wide eyes, waiting to be saved. "You remember looking at him crying and trembling in fear and thinking that it's working. When you made him listen to the other's screams and he just begged for it to stop."
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"Please, don't make me--" Remember? Believe? He wasn't sure. "I can't." He was just a boy. Why would he do that to be a boy?
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Barty yelled the last word and then he got up and headed for the stairs. "I'm going to go lock myself in, Ianto. Why don't you sit quietly somewhere and think about what you've done until Jack Harkness comes back, hm?"
There, that seemed lenient enough.
no subject
A little boy with a nose bleed. A weak boy. That he tormented in such a cruel way just to use him. Use him for what, he didn't even know. It was a strange memory, very hazy, like it was there but it wasn't and it wasn't real, he knew it wasn't real, but it felt so real. It felt like he'd done it.
He watched Barty leave and he had to wonder - was that little boy in his head real?