I Ddim Ond Dweud Y Gair "Ffarwél"

[nothing_rhymes_with_ianto]

Title: I Ddim Ond Dweud Y Gair "Ffarwél" (And One Last Time To Say "Farewell")
Author: qafkinnetic
Rating: PG
Pairings/Characters: Torchwood Team, Myfanwy
Spoilers/Warnings: None
Summary: All things must die. Even if you're the one who loved them.
Author's Note: My cat was diagnosed with cancer today. So I wrote this. Which is a rather morbid reaction, but what can I say? The title is from a Welsh folksong called Myfanwy.

Ianto was whistling as he cleaned the Hub. Gwen frowned at him as he picked through the topography of trash on the small table in front of the sofa. Tosh’s foot tapped along loudly with Ianto’s shrill tune. Gwen frowned at her, too. Then she glanced at Owen’s med bay and Jack’s office and frowned. Jack was in his office, door shut, Glenn Miller on at medium volume. Owen was highly focussed on his computer. Ianto’s whistle got louder. It didn’t shut out the keening.

“Will somebody shut that dinosaur up!” Owen burst out. Ianto flinched.

“I can’t. She won’t let anyone near her. Not even me.”

“I thought you were the pterodactyl whisperer.”

“Apparently not.”

“Maybe she’s in heat,” Gwen offered brightly.

“Does that sound like any animal in heat you’ve ever heard?” Owen rebuffed. “She sounds like she’s in pain.”

Ianto had retreated to the kitchen area, away from the conversation. He didn’t want to think about that. He made coffee instead. Then he went down into the archives. He didn’t want to hear the terrible moans.

Two weeks later, Ianto was carrying coffee across the Hub to Tosh when Myfanwy crashed to the ground mid-flight. Gwen screamed. Ianto dropped his tray, heedless of the ceramic shattering in sharp pieces, of the hot coffee staining his trousers and burning his ankles.

“Jesus christ!” Owen and Ianto got to the pterodactyl simultaneously. Owen searched for a breath or a pulse, some sign of life. Ianto looked on, eyes wide, pale-faced.

“Owen?” The worry in Ianto’s voice was plain; he looked stricken.

Owen shook his head. “She’s dead.”

“Find out why,” Jack’s voice said quietly from the upper level of the Hub.

“All right.”

It was a struggle, but they managed to get the dinosaur into the autopsy bay. Owen moved slowly, sympathetic of Ianto, who had to keep stopping to blink tears from his eyes. The Welshman had been the one to find Myfanwy, and Owen hated that he had to send her off as well.

Owen shooed Ianto away for the autopsy. It was hard enough seeing the thing you love die, Owen knew that. Seeing the autopsy was always worse. He made Ianto promise not to leave the archives until the pterodactyl was sewn up again.

“What was it?” Jack asked as everyone crowded around the rail of the autopsy bay.

Owen leaned against the table, eyes downcast. He rocked on his heels for a moment, then sighed heavily. “It was cancer.”

“I didn’t think dinosaurs could get cancer.” Gwen commented.

“It makes sense,” Ianto’s voice was toneless, void of emotion. “She was born millions of years ago, and being here, she’s not only exposed to the Rift, but also to all sorts of modern chemicals and things that her body isn’t meant to encounter.”

“Ianto, I—” But Ianto shook his head and moved away.

“It’s all right, Jack.” He wandered out of the autopsy bay and back down to the archives.

Four hours later, Owen entered the cool darkness of the archives to find Ianto at his desk, hunched over a file, a huge stack beside him. Owen knew that tactic. Immerse yourself so completely in your work that you don’t have to think about anything. He put a hand on Ianto’s shoulder. The young man looked up.

“She’s in the alien morgue. Drawer 73C. You already know the code to get in.”

Ianto nodded once. “Thanks.”

“Least I could do, mate.”

Ianto didn’t visit the alien morgue. Not the first day after, or the second. He didn’t say anything except his usual “Can I get you anything?” or if he was asked a question. His face was blank, his eyes glazed. He spent all his free time in the archives. Jack was getting worried. So was Owen.

“Jack?” Tosh piped up a week later. “I haven’t seen Ianto all day. Usually he comes up to give us our coffee or to give you a file.”

“He’s probably in the archives, losing track of time. You can check if you like.”

“Jack?” Tosh said again, a moment later.

“What?”

“He’s not there. He’s not in the loo, either.”

“Well, where is he?”

“I don’t know! I looked around the main Hub on the CCTV. No sign of him.”

Jack toggled his comm. “Ianto. Ianto!” There was no reply. “Shit.”

The lower levels of the Hub were dark and twisting. There was no sound but dripping water and the echo of Jack’s footsteps as he hurried through the passages, calling through his comm. He checked the room that had been sealed off a week after Ianto’s suspension. It was still sealed, still dark. All the vaults he could remember were empty. There was no reply on the comm.

“Jack?” Tosh’s voice sounded in his ear, making him jump.

“What?” He snapped.

“Come back up. There’s something you need to see.”

Jack raced up to the main Hub faster than he had in a very long time. Tosh was sitting at her station, staring at the screen, tears in her eyes. Jack’s stomach clenched. He joined her.

Ianto stood in the alien morgue, his forehead leaning against drawer 73C, eyes closed, arms limp at his sides. Silent tears slid down his cheeks, staining them with salt. His lips moved in a quiet lullaby, a song by the name of Myfanwy.

Comments

[tardisjournal.livejournal.com]

I was about to log off when this popped up in my flist and I had to read it. I lost my cat of 21 years a few weeks ago and have been struggling through that, so I really feel for you, and Ianto, here.

Everyone deals with grief in their own way and it's not surprising Ianto's way is to withdraw and hide himself in work, or just... withdraw. Bless Owen for his understanding--when he needs to be, he can be quite compassionate in his own gruff way. I'm hopeful that Ianto's wise enough to know that the grief will abate in time, and he has Jack and the team to help him.

Doesn't make it any easier, though. I'm sorry to hear about your cat. I know you'll make her feel like most beloved creature on earth in the time she has left. <3<3

[yvonnereid.livejournal.com]

I'm so sorry to read this post. Godbless you both ~ Vonnie xx

[aviv-b.livejournal.com]

I'm so sorry to hear about your kitty. Don't hesitate to come over to cat_lovers or ca_health if you need advice, comfort or just want to share.

[cionaudha.livejournal.com]

I'm so sorry to hear about Mama Kitty. I have an elderly dog, and I know that even though he's had a long life it will never be enough. They all break our hearts in the end.

This story makes me weirdly happy that Myfanwy didn't die in the explosion. Properly mourned by the one who loved her, as it should have been. I really wish she'd been more of a presence on the show, but their budget likely didn't run to that much CGI.

[iolo1234.livejournal.com]

Lovely story and being Welsh I've sung Myfanwy so many times myself. The last of my cats died of kidney failure in July and I've found myself without for the first time in 20 years. I'm sorry for your news. It isn't easy but at least you know that you've given them a good life. All of my three were strays and I know they chose to stay with me. Need to pull myself together now as I have to get to work.
*hugs*
K
xx

[mcparrot.livejournal.com]

So sorry about your puss. Sad and lovely story.

[owensheart.livejournal.com]

*sniffle* my heart jsut broke.

I am so sorry about your cat, is there perhaps something they can do for it?

[jsks.livejournal.com]

Hugs for you and your dear kitty.
Ianto would take lose of Myfanwy hard.

[stlscape.livejournal.com]

So sorry to hear about your cat. It's always too, too soon to say goodbye to our babies. I wish there was something I could say or do to help, but all I have to share is that I've been there myself several times and understand and sympathize with what you're going through. ::hugs::

Also, good story.

[dylantoms.livejournal.com]

Blimey, that made me cry. Beautifully written.

Myfanwy was my mum's favourite Welsh hymn, it wa being played on the radio in the background the last time I spoke to her and it was played at the funeral of both her and my dad.

I've lost three beloved dogs so I know how you feel and my sympathies are with you.
Now I have Dylan and full of love all over again:)

[jo02]

This was a lovely story. I lost one of my cats to cancer just over a year ago. She was 16. I still have her sister cat but she is starting to get frail now, so I am right there with you, with sympathy.