Non-Recombinant DNA

[czarina_kitty]

Title:  Non-Recombinant DNA
Author:  czarina_kitty
Rating:  R 
Pairing: Jack/Ianto, Jack/?, but nothing explicit
Warnings:  Not just Mpreg, it’s teen Mpreg!  Plus adult concepts, some really bad scientific exposition, and incest.
Prompt:  #57 at allaboutjack:  Mpreg - a previous time Jack was pregnant and didn't have the other parent to support him (if it's during his two missing years than please remember he needs to have been pregnant at least one other time, because he obviously remembers something).  Explore Jack's thoughts as he finds out he's expecting and gets bigger, what happened to the other parent (preferably another male, but it's up to the filler), how he does his job and why he says he's never doing it again: hard labor/stillborn baby/it got taken away/whatever.  Just a character study of Jack when he's pregnant and alone.
Summary:  A character study of Jack, before, during, and after his pregnancy.
Disclaimer: I do not own or make any money from these characters. 
Author Notes: I got a little confused about the source of the prompt and initially thought this was from dark_fest, so this isn’t exactly a warm and fluffy version of Jack. 

Thank you to von_gelmini for the Beta

 

 

He woke up in an unfamiliar bed, in an unfamiliar room, in an unfamiliar city, on an unfamiliar planet.  While this was not an altogether unusual circumstance, he knew something was not right.  He just couldn’t remember what.

He climbed out of bed and made his way to the small en suite, stopping short when he caught his reflection in the mirror.  Rubbing a hand over his face and through his hair he thought that he must have had a rough night.  He looked tired, worn out.

Grabbing a towel from the nearby rack, he dislodged a thick vellum envelope addressed to himself unmistakably in his own handwriting.  Opening the envelope he extracted a single sheet of thick paper and read the message, again in his own writing:

Two years of your memories are missing.  There was no other option.  You will find him again someday, but for now you need to forget.  Leave this planet and go home.

Two years of his life?  Gone?  And just which ‘him’ would he find again?  There were several possibilities - his son, his brother, the psychopath who took his son?  The note was maddeningly vague.

He never bothered to find out just what planet he was on or in what time period.  He kept the note with him for years to come, until the paper became too worn and faded to be read.

 

***********

 

            The Y chromosome is not, in nature, recombinant.  While this may seem like a meaningless bit of trivia, something to be bandied about at parties and discussed in abstract terms by academics, it has wide-reaching consequences.  This explains, at least in part, the situation at hand.

Because it is the only chromosome that it isn’t recombinant, it is the only chromosome that does not have the ability to repair damaged areas of itself by taking information from its mated partner to replace the corrupted data.  It is, in fact, the only chromosome not to have a mated partner (even the X has a mate in females, if not in males, which allows it to repair itself in half of the species).  Over time, the Y chromosome loses its potency.  It cannot replace compromised information, so it shuts down those areas.  Over a long enough time period, there is nothing left of it and sex discrimination in a species disappears.  When that was discovered, early in the 21^st century, the Y chromosome in humans had fewer than 80 remaining pieces of functional DNA, compared with over a thousand on the X (or any of the other 22 chromosomes in humans for that matter).  It was assumed that there had to be some sort of a biological safeguard.  There had to be a way for essential genes to be transferred to other places, for back up copies to be made, or for individuals with a greater number of remaining genes to be somehow more successful in mating.  The Y could not simply die out.

            But it did. 

Or close enough.   

By the 51^st century, geneticists had solved the problem.  There were definite advantages to creating a mirrored set of the sex-determining genes.  Both the double X and the double Y served a purpose.  The redundancy built into the system made sure that there was a mate for the Y, that the genders were no longer dependent on a single chromosome from each parent, but a paired set.  Rather than the female having two Xs, there were now four.  And a male was not longer defined by a single X and a single Y, but by 2 Xs and 2 Ys.  These back-up copies were altered to remain dormant unless the information they contained was needed.  Even dormant, however, there were side effects.  Increased pheromone production, a shortened refractory period, and more consistent hormone levels were obvious pluses. 

There were negatives as well.  In a small percentage of the population, there was a failure of the chromosomes to separate properly, leading to an odd arrangement of 3 Xs and 1 Y.  While the Y determined that this individual would outwardly appear male, the extra X determined that they would also have the internal anatomy of both genders.  Due to advances in medicine and nutrition, and the elimination of childhood diseases, it was likely that an individual with this genetic condition would not have need for in depth medical testing.  Which meant the mutation was not discovered until adulthood.  This was unfortunate, as the first indication of a problem was often a pregnancy, and the chances of the child having genetic anomalies was unacceptably high.

The condition was common enough for it to have a name, specialists dedicated to treatment of the condition, and a host of support groups - at least in the more advanced and enlightened parts of the galaxy.  But for a young man growing up in a poor, isolated, backwater colony like the Boeshane Peninsula, it meant being labeled as a freak and regarded as wrong.  Because no matter how advanced a civilization as a whole becomes, there are always pockets of prejudice and bigotry.  

All of which explains how it was that a 16-year-old boy found himself here:  far from home, alone, scared, and 6 months pregnant.  

 

*****************

 

Jack had never exactly been the paragon of sainthood, but then he hadn’t had an ideal childhood.  He remembered his early years as being happy.  All that changed when the invaders came.  Losing both her husband and her youngest son on the same day was too much for Jack’s mother and in a very real sense, he lost her too that day.  Living in such a small community, he was not able to keep his mother’s breakdown a secret.  So many families had lost loved ones on that day that no one was there to help; everyone was busy dealing with their own losses.  The colony was too isolated and too poor for there to be any kind of professional help available.  There were no doctors, no counselors, no one to tend to injuries whether physical or mental.  He was on his own.

Jack pushed all his feelings and emotions, all the loss and hurt, under the surface and built a wall around himself.  He refused to let anyone see his pain.  But he could not stop himself from crying every night when he was alone with his thoughts.

Jack was a quick study and soon learned what he needed to know to fend for himself and to care for his mother.  He learned to lie and cheat and steal to get what he needed.  He learned to manipulate others and to be ruthless when he needed to be.  He learned to put people at ease and to use his natural charm and charisma.  He learned to ignore all of the insults and rumors, to put on a smile even in the darkest of times.  In short, he learned to be the perfect conman.

            In her more agitated moments his mother blamed him for the losses.  And in his darker moments, he agreed.  He felt guilt and shame for surviving when so many others hadn’t.  He felt unworthy and unlovable.  His mother died shortly before his 16^th birthday, leaving him to feel guilt and shame over that, too.

            Alone and lonely, he fell into the bed of anyone who told him that he was beautiful, anyone who showed an interest.  Things like gender and species became irrelevant, as long as he could forget everything for a few moments of pleasure and a cheap self-esteem boost.  He longed for the connection and comfort of a family, of someone to love and to be loved by, so he continued to hop from bed to bed seeking approval. 

When he began feeling ill every morning he assumed that it was his conscience telling him that his promiscuous behavior was wrong.  When he started to gain weight he assumed it was because he no longer had the stress of caring for his mother to keep him thin.  When he felt something in his stomach move he panicked. 

            Teen pregnancy was common in the colony.  The rugged lifestyle and constant threat of invasion kept the life expectancy low.  Local midwives were experienced enough to safely handle a routine birth, but the high rate of infant mortality and death during childbirth meant that anything not routine was beyond their abilities.  Add the complication of a male pregnancy and a tragedy was almost a given. 

            He had no family to rely on and no idea of who the other parent was.  His reputation guaranteed that, even if he could identify the other parent, no one would believe him.  He had lived in this community long enough to know that being different in any way was cause for hatred, scorn, ridicule, and abuse.  The chances of both he and his baby surviving the birth were already almost zero.  The stress and complete lack of support meant the chances of both of them living through the first year were less than zero.  He simply could not have or care for a baby within the colony.     

Even as he considered all the reasons not to keep this baby, one thought kept coming back to him: this baby would love him unconditionally.  Jack had been starved for love and simple affection for so long that this thought prevailed and made the decision easy.

He gathered what little money he could and took the first opportunity to flee the only planet, the only home, he had ever known, hoping to find a safe place for him and his child.  Hoping that somewhere out there was a place where he would be accepted for who he was, not judged and labeled and looked down upon as a freak.

            Even with access to advanced medical care and the proper specialists, the delivery was not easy.  Without the necessary physiology there was nothing natural about this birth.  Drugged and restrained Jack was aware of the baby - his baby, his son - being cut from him and passed immediately to a wet-nurse.  Jack dragged himself to consciousness just long enough to hold his son for the first time, marveling at the perfectly formed fingers and toes, the almost translucent skin, the thatch of dark hair, and the brilliant blue eyes. 

            When Jack came to again, it was several days later.  After several minutes of remembering where he was and why, he asked to see his son.  The answer he received would haunt him for years to come. 

            “He’s gone.  The adoptive father came to get him.”

            “What?  He wasn’t up for adoption.  He’s my son.  The only thing I’ve ever done right.  He can’t be gone.”

            “I’m sorry, but the paperwork was in order.”

            “Who took him?  Who took my son?”

            “The man looked so much like you, we assumed he was a relative.  Older than you, rather eccentric to judge by the clothes.”

    

**************

 

            By the time Jack ended up on Earth in the early 21^st century, he had almost given up hope.  It had been almost 8 years that he had searched through time and space for his lost son, even longer that he had searched for his lost brother.  Eight years in his linear timeline, but spanning millennia.  Jack had wandered following every lead he had, even joining the Time Agency in the hope that he would gain access to resources that would aid his search.  Each useless piece of information, each worthless lead bought, paid for, and then forgotten over copious amounts of drugs, liquor, and sex.  He had visited the future, marveling at wonders of the universe and consulting the wisest beings in all of creation.  No one could point him in the proper direction or even explain why his son had been taken.  The Face of Boe had given him some cryptic advice that Jack suspected he would only understand in retrospect, but that was little help.   

He had followed a lead to this place, followed tales of a rift in time and space that strands those from throughout the universe and from all times here.  It wasn’t by any means a good lead, but he had run out of those years earlier.  And sitting here in this dark pub on yet another foreign planet, he had little confidence that he would find anything helpful.

            He had only ever held his son the once and had never had the chance to name him.  The custom on the Boeshane Peninsula was to wait until the first birthday to name a child, as the infant mortality rate was too high to become attached too early.  Jack still remembered his baby, the dark hair and blue eyes that he inherited from Jack and the beautiful pale skin and dimples that he must have inherited from his other father, whoever that had been.  He remembered the name that he had already chosen, despite tradition.  But it has been so long that he wondered if he would recognize his son even if he was sitting right next to him.  He remembered his brother, curly locks and their mother’s eyes.  But it had been even longer and he was sure he would not recognize Gray.  He did, however, recognize the man who slid into the chair next to him.  He’d recognize that face anywhere.  It was the face he saw staring back at him every time he looked in a mirror.   

            “You shouldn’t be here,” this other, older version of himself said.

            “You’re here.”  Somehow, Time Agent training had neglected to cover what to do if you happened to run into an older version of yourself. 

            “Which is why you shouldn’t be.”

            “I had a tip that said I could find my son here, maybe even my brother.  Our son and our brother, I guess.”  Why it was the academy did not cover things like the proper use of personal pronouns and verb tenses Jack would never know.

            “I gave up looking for both years ago,” the older Jack said softly “I’ll find them when I’m meant to.”

            “Funny, that’s almost exactly what the Face of Boe told me.  Us?”

            “You need to leave,” the older man said, clearly avoiding all eye contact “I don’t remember this conversation, which means it never happened, which means it isn’t meant to happen.  Which means you shouldn’t be here.”

            “There you are,” Ianto said, as he entered the pub.  “I thought I’d…”  Ianto stopped talking as he looked from Jack to Jack and back again.  “You know, Jack, when I suggested a threesome this isn’t exactly what I expected.”

            “Ianto,” the older Jack began, “I’d like you to meet…”

            “Gray, I presume,” said Ianto, extending a hand to shake.

            “What?” both Jacks asked in unison.

            “You two are practically identical,” Ianto said, dropping his hand.  “I just didn’t realize Gray was your twin brother.”

            The younger Jack simply stared for a moment, while the older Jack asked firmly, “How do you know about Gray?”

            “Ah, yes,” said Ianto looking at the floor.  “You know how you don’t sleep?  Well, you don’t talk in your sleep either.”

            “We’ll discuss that later,” said the older Jack.  “But right now, meet…well, me.  Sort of.”

            “You found him,” the younger Jack said quietly, studying Ianto’s face.  “You found my boy.”

            “What?”  This time it is Ianto and the older Jack with the question.

            “My son.  Our son.  You found him.”

            “Slow down there.  This is Ianto.  He’s my... friend, my lover, but he is not my son.”

“You look just like Aeron.  It was just a fling, a weekend in bed and then nothing.  He has to be your father.  Your other father, I mean.  The resemblance is uncanny, but I’m sure he’s...  I’ve told you that before,” the younger Jack said, never taking his eyes off Ianto.

“No, you,” Ianto stressed the word while looking at the older Jack, “have never mentioned it.”

“This is impossible.  Ianto was born here on Earth, grew up not far from here with his family.  His father was a tailor and his mother cared for Ianto and his sister.  A nice, normal family.  He isn’t my son.”

            “Um, Jack?”

            “Yes?”

            “You never have actually read my file, have you?”

            “No.  I skimmed it for the highlights, but I’ve never read it fully.  Why?”

“I was adopted.  No idea who my birth parents were.  Never could find any records, not even with Torchwood’s resources.”

            Both Jacks were lost in reflection for several long moments.  One remembering a long ago tryst, the other remembering a faded and worn message written on the stationery of the St. David’s hotel.  Both remembering being told that their son had been taken by someone who looked too much like Jack to be anyone but a close relative.  An older man in long-outdated military clothing.

            Jack stared at the young man in front of him for almost a minute, wondering why he would someday kidnap his own son and hide him here.  He came to the conclusion that he would know when he was meant to know, before responding.  “Right.  Let’s get our guest here checked into a hotel and then you and I are going straight back to the Hub.  Put this crazy theory to rest.”

            “Yes, sir,” Ianto responded.

 

 

 

            “Owen, I need you to run a DNA analysis on Ianto,” Jack said as he stormed back into the Hub, Ianto trailing behind him.

            “An updated one?” Owen asked.

“What?” Jack asked.

“There are complete DNA profiles kept on file for all Torchwood agents.  Do you need an updated profile, or will the old one do?”

            “We keep DNA profiles?  Why?  And since when?” Jack asked.

            “Since before I started here,” Owen said.  “And you really don’t want to contemplate why.”

            “You have a sample of my DNA?”

            “All Torchwood agents, Jack.  That includes you.”

            “Ever looked at it?”

            “No.  Your sample was on file long before I got here and there hasn’t been any reason to look at it,” Owen said.  “So, what am I looking for in Ianto’s DNA?”

            “Extra chromosomes.  Start with the sex linked pair.”

            “Ianto?” Owen looked at Ianto long enough for the younger man to nod his approval before turning back to Jack.  “He has an extra set of Xs.  Why do you want to know?”

            “You knew that but you never told me?” Jack said voice full of menace.

            “Why would I tell you?  They’re dormant.  It doesn’t impact his ability to do his job, so doctor/patient privilege applies.  Now you tell me, is there some reason this is suddenly important?  Something that I, as his doctor, need to be aware of?”

Of course, the genetic anomaly that had allowed Jack to become pregnant likely would have been passed on to his son.  His son.  The man he had fallen in love with, the man who shared his bed each night.  His son.  This was wrong in so many ways, but right in the only one that really counted as far as Jack was concerned:  his son loved him, utterly and completely loved him.  Despite the time and distance, across the universe, they had found each other and fallen in love. 

Not knowing the risks Jack had never been particularly careful about things like birth control when it came to Ianto and he expected that the estrogen in the rain would not be effective, no matter how often in rained in Cardiff.  And Ianto had put on some weight recently.       

“Do a complete physical, including a full body scan,” Jack spat.

“Just as well,” Ianto muttered.  “I was going to see Owen anyway.  Been feeling sick every morning for the last week.”

“Fine,” Owen said to Jack, ignoring Ianto for the moment.  “Just tell me what I’m looking for.  Does this have something to do with the extra chromosomes?  Are they something we need to worry about?  We never were able to find Ianto’s parents, to find out if there is a family history of this sort of anomaly, if there are any problems that develop as a result.”

“You knew he was adopted?” Jack asked.

“Of course,” said Owen.  “It’s right there in his medical file.  Should be in his personnel file, too.  You didn’t know?”

“No.  Physical.  Now.  You’ll know what you’re looking for when you find it.  And I need a dose of Retcon.  Enough for about two years.”

 

*******************

 

Jack woke up in an unfamiliar bed, in an unfamiliar room, in an unfamiliar city, on an unfamiliar planet.  Two weeks later he quit the Time Agency and struck out on his own.



 

Comments

[electrictoes.livejournal.com]

Ooh, wow. That was really clever & awesome.

[czarina-kitty.livejournal.com]

Thank you.

[butterflycell.livejournal.com]

that was brilliant! Though I want it to carry on... i think... either wa, I loved the science of it =D

[czarina-kitty.livejournal.com]

Thank you.
Not sure where I would go with this from here.
Scary as it sounds, the thing about the Y chromosome shutting down is true. http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=4225769

[tiggerbrasilf.livejournal.com]

Ouch!

[czarina-kitty.livejournal.com]

Thank you.

[black59.livejournal.com]

whaou !
here is a sacred explanation of the 2 years that were erased!
I'm not sure Ianto, man of 21 century, agrees with the fact that he "livesé with his father!

[bk_forever]

Wow, brilliant! So many twists and turns! Sort of tragic though, in a weird way. Ianto is in for quite a shock! Or several.

My favourite line has to be:

“Ah, yes,” said Ianto, looking at the floor. “You know how you don’t sleep? Well, you don’t talk in your sleep either.”

That just sounds so Ianto!