A Matter of Time (13/20)
Rating: R
Summary: In which things don't quite go to plan.
A/N: I said tuesday, right? Tuesday it is! Big thanks to thaddeusfavour for telling me I could pull this off, and to both her and bacchae777 for the edit.
Previous chapters here.
~
“Keep the doors locked, then,” she said simply. “Start the take-off sequence and be ready to go at the first sign of trouble. But Ianto and I are getting the boys back.”
~
A few steps out of the ship and Ianto was drenched and thoroughly grateful for his jacket. His hair was plastered to his forehead, his trousers soaked through, but the jacket cut the rain and the wind to a manageable degree. Ashild was a few steps in front of him, and she stopped beside a small vehicle.
“Get on,” she called, voice almost being carried away by the wind. Ianto came closer to hear properly. “We’ll get there faster on this.”
“Where’d you get it?” he asked, sliding in behind her. It most resembled one of those all-terrain vehicles they seemed fond of in America. It had four wheels, but one long seat and a hitch at the back that might have attached to a trailer.
“Stole it on the way back,” Ashild said over her shoulder, fiddling with the controls. Ianto expected the sound of an engine, but it started moving forward quietly. Not a combustion engine; something electrical, perhaps? Whatever it was, Ianto was grateful for the ride. They wove through other ships; some a little smaller than the Evening Star, many almost double the size. Nobody else was outside, and neither of them said anything in the five minutes it took them to reach the compound. Ianto’s fists were clenched on his knees, and he was trying desperately not to think of what it would mean if they were too late. Vaguely, he was aware that Kethan had to survive this, for the sake of the timeline, but that didn’t stop his stomach from twisting with anxiety. And it wouldn’t keep any of the rest of them from dying.
The building on the perimeter of the landing field was behind a high fence, and Ashild pulled the cart up beside it, sliding off.
“And over we go,” she said, tugging experimentally on one of the links in the fence.
“We can’t just melt it?” Ianto asked skeptically.
“Nope. It’s sonic proof. Wouldn’t do much good as a fence if you could just blast through it.” She brushed a wet lock of hair out of her face and scaled the fence easily, dropping the eight or so feet on the other side before turning and giving Ianto an expectant look.
Ianto couldn’t see that the fence was doing a whole lot of good if you could just climb right over it, either, but at this point he wasn’t complaining. He followed Ashild, grateful for the give in his trousers as he threw his legs over the top and dropped down beside her. Once there, Ashild gripped his elbow and pulled him in front of her.
“Before we go any farther, I need to know. Can I rely on you?” She pointed at his blasters. “You only just learned how to use those things. Are you going to forget when I most need you to remember?”
Ianto shook his head and pulled his .45 out of its holster. “I won't forget. And I can shoot this well enough. If things go wrong, it won't be because of me.” He was deadly serious. . Checking the .45 competently, Ianto was suddenly thankful for all the hours he and Jack had spent on the shooting range. Hours Kethan was going to eventually get to live through, if Ianto had anything to say about it.
She nodded, and then flipped open her wristband. She pressed the small buttons, flipping through dense sets of illegible text and then looked over at the warehouse.
“Mum and I took out the sensors the first pass through. It looks like they haven't fixed them. Better yet, their sentries have moved.”
Ianto peered through the rain at the warehouse. He could just make out the dark shadow of the near entrance. “How can you tell?”
She waved her wrist. "Proximity sensors. You're the nearest warm body around."
"Ah. So do we think they're gathered wherever they're holding Kethan and Brenneth?"
"That would be a safe guess."
Ianto hugged his arms to his body as they made their way from the perimeter to the warehouse. His jacket stopped much of the wind, but the rain seeped down his collar, trickling unpleasantly down his body and making him shiver. They reached the wall of the building, but that provided no relief; the wind seemed to be stronger there, funneling itself along the corrugated metal. A quick conversation lead them to decide to try the roof.
“We’ll be able to do a faster sweep, this way,” Ashild shouted back at him into the wind as they followed along the exterior. “Less likely to run into locked doors that we have to blast through.”
Ianto nodded, though she couldn’t see him, and ducked his head to keep the rain out of his eyes while he followed. When they reached the ladder, Ashild scaled it quickly, and he followed, hands gripping tight to the wet metal of the bars. The top of the roof was mostly flat and empty, save some pipes and vents and, here and there, low squares that jutted out of the surface. Those were entrances to the upper service level of the warehouse. One of them would take he and Ashild down to Kethan Brenneth and the mercenaries, and Ianto itched with the desire to go storming in.
“We’ll see if we can find a probable location,” Ashild said, head bent over her wristband. “And we’ll take the nearest entrance.”
They made their way across the roof, the wind and the rain making it difficult as they stepped across uneven, slippery metal and slick asphalt. Ianto tripped, once, catching himself at the last moment, the rain stinging across his neck as it fell harder and faster. He stopped for a moment, trying to centre himself; everything was moving too fast. He leaned forward, hands on his knees, going over the blueprints in his mind in an attempt to ground himself. Ashild noticed and came back beside him.
“If we don’t get shot,” he shouted over the wind, “we’ll probably get blown off the roof.”
She gave him a tense smile, and gripped his elbow. “I wouldn’t let you. Wait here a moment, I’m getting a reading, let me see how strong I can make it.”
Ianto wrapped his arms around himself, watching as she walked in zigzags across a small portion of the roof, stopping occasionally to brush wet locks of hair out of her eyes. Eventually, she wound her way back to a spot a little to Ianto’s left.
“They’re under here, as good as I can make out. How well do you remember the blueprints?”
Ianto considered and looked around, judging the distances of the nearest entrances and the edge of the roof.
“They’re probably in the secondary storage area. The large one on the north side?” Ianto guessed, continuing at her nod. “Then, that entrance,” he said as he pointed to his right, “should lead to a second stairwell on the north side from the main entrance, and we could get onto the maintenance catwalks from there.”
“Agreed.”
Ashild made quick work of the seal with her blaster - Ianto would have to ask, someday, what the point of locks were if you had weapons that would make such short work of them - and hauled open the trap-door. A set of steep stairs - more of a ladder, really, descended into darkness. They exchanged a quick glance, and then Ianto went first, gun in hand, held up and tight to his body as his other hand steadied him down the stairs. Ashild followed after him, leaving the heavy metal door open so that Ianto could see a square patch of the floor before he reached it.
“Leaving it open?” he asked, looking up and then back again as the rain fell against his face. Ianto couldn’t help but feel a little claustrophobic, knowing that he was walking into a trap, and a successful trap, at that. The weather seemed almost welcoming in comparison to the dark of the hall.
“We might want to get out quickly,” Ashild replied, tucking her sonic blaster back in its holster and pulling out a laser one instead. “I’m going first - if we have to shoot any guards, this’ll do the job quietly.”
Ianto nodded, looking around as his eyes adjusted to the dark. It wasn’t actually pitch black, he realized; there were dimly shining lines of light, a sickly shade of green, along the floor that edged the small hall they were standing in. As his vision adjusted, Ianto could see a door immediately across from the ladder they had descended.
“That should be the entrance to the stairwell.”
Ashild opened the door and went through it. The stairwell itself was lit, not with any light bulbs that Ianto could locate, but large strips along the wall that glowed like the lines in the roof access. Across from the door they had come in was another door, and between them, a stairwell that lead down. Ashild stepped quietly over to the door, and stood beside it, gesturing at Ianto for silence as she unlatched it and pulled it slowly open, blaster at the ready. Ianto realized he was holding his breath, unconsciously, and let it out slowly. Whatever was on the other side, they’d deal with it when they got there. Kethan would be alright - but that didn’t mean Ianto would see him again. A flicker of fear ran through Ianto at that thought; he’d been so focused on the fact that Kethan would survive, it never occurred to him he might be taken by the Time Agency now. Ianto shut his eyes for barely a moment and steadied himself. He hoped they weren’t too late.
No one came through it, or stopped them, so Ashild pulled it open enough to slip through, letting Ianto catch the door before she let go, and Ianto let it shut quietly behind him as he took in their position. They were on a catwalk above a large room that was mostly empty and lit by the same dull green light as the hall, only to one side, a brighter light on the wall threw the shapes of several people into sharp relief. Ashild twisted a hand towards them, tilting her head at Ianto, and he nodded in response. There was their mark, but they were too far away, and the room was too dark, to make out who was who, and part of their vision was obscured by what looked like a small ship.
Ashild motioned at Ianto to follow her, and he did, glad for the soft rubber of his boots that kept his steps silent. The catwalk trailed around the edge of the room; they could have taken the one stretched across it, as well, but that would have left them incredibly exposed. As they wound their way around to the group of people, Ianto could make out two figures in front of posts; they resolved into Brenneth and Kethan, and judging by the way their arms were wrenched back, they were tied in place. Ianto resisted the urge to let out a sigh of utter relief, but instead he swallowed, hoping his heartbeat was quieter than it sounded in his ears. He was sure that any moment now, one of the mercenaries would look up, and they would be caught. Realistically, the catwalk was so dim in comparison to the area where the mercenaries were standing that they probably wouldn’t notice them even if they did look up.
They reached a position just over the group of men and women; low conversation from the group floated up, but Ianto couldn’t make it out. Kethan and Brenneth were secured to support posts; both were gagged as well. Oh, Kethan would hate that; Jack had always despised having his mouth covered like that. There was a ladder here that would get them to the catwalk, tucked behind support beams between the ship and the group of people. Ashild slipped quickly down it, and when Ianto reached the bottom, she pulled him up against the ship. They could see Kethan and Brenneth from the shadows they stood in, but the mercenaries were out of view.
Ashild motioned to Ianto, and when he came near, she pressed her mouth to his ear.
“They’re going to leave, in this ship,” she said, voice barely audible, just a breath in his ear. “We need to take one by surprise from a secure position, but we’ll have to wait until fewer of them are-” She broke off her sentence at the whine of laser fire with a choked sob, and Ianto was sure they would have been heard were it not for Kethan’s furious, muffled scream.
“Oh God,” Ashild said, bracing against the ship, and Ianto watched in horror as Brenneth’s body sagged against the bonds, head lolling against his chest. There was no mistaking the weight of his body, nor the rage in Kethan’s voice. At first, Ianto couldn’t hear anything but ringing in his ears, the shock of being too late, of there being no way to go back and no way they could undo what had just happened, but Ashild was frozen and Ianto, at least, could still think. He rested a hand against Ashild’s forearm, grounding her, meeting her eyes steadily.
“Now,” was all he said. Her eyes were unfocused for a moment, and then she seemed to come back to herself, and a mask of sheer determination fell over her face. She nodded, and whirled away. Before Ianto could say anything more, she’d moved out beyond the cover of the ship and had her laser blaster against the temple of one of the mercenaries and her sonic one pointed at a cluster to one side.
“This is set to a wide beam,” Ashild said, voice terrifyingly calm. “Move, and I will take you all out.”
Nobody moved.
“Ianto,” she said as he stepped out from behind the ship. “Untie Kethan.”
He nodded and walked over to Kethan, spine tingling with the knowledge that six mercenaries could shoot him at any time. Kethan was straining against his bonds, temple throbbing with effort, and Ianto had to murmur to him to relax so the bonds loosened enough to undo. Once he’d freed Kethan’s hands, Kethan wrenched out the gag and pulled Ianto over to him. Ianto started as Kethan’s hands slid down his thighs, and then, all of a sudden, Kethan had a blaster in each hand and was firing, taking out the group of five mercenaries before Ianto could blink.
“Kethan,” he breathed, staring at the pile of bodies in the warehouse. Ashild still had her blaster pressed against the temple of the last mercenary. Kethan reached down and reholstered one of the blasters, the force almost tipping Ianto over in his shock.
“Ashild. Move,” he demanded, striding over towards her. Ashild hesitated, before stepping back, and Kethan brought up his blaster, stopping a few feet in front of the mercenary. “Who hired you?”
The man looked at him, mouth pressed tight. “If I tell you, will you let me go?”
“Yes.”
“Time Agency.”
“Thank you,” said Kethan, and then he fired, watching dispassionately as the man crumpled before him. Kethan stood still, though Ianto could see his arms were shaking minutely, before turning and walking over to where Brenneth’s body was slouched against the post while Ianto watched in shock. Kethan put the blaster on the floor beside him, and slowly, methodically, started undoing the bonds.
Ianto finally came to his senses and joined Kethan, kneeling on the other side of the body - Brenneth - and undoing the gag. The skin was still warm to the touch, and the gag was wet as Ianto undid it, and even though he’d done this before, even though dead bodies were no mystery to him, he wanted to be sick. The sight of Kethan, mowing down the mercenaries without a second thought… Ianto was pretty sure his mind wasn’t able to process that image yet.
“Did you really-”
“Yes. And shut up.”
Ianto started, looking at Kethan’s face for the first time. It was twisted into the grimace of someone doing their best not to cry; his cheek bit between his teeth, his forehead furrowed as he fumbled with the knots. Ianto reached out and pushed his hands away, undoing the last of them and letting the rope fall away. Rope. Who would have thought they’d still use something so mundane to tie up their prisoners. For execution. Ianto thought, numbly.
“Why did they shoot him?” he asked, and this time, Kethan didn’t interrupt him.
“They didn’t need him,” Kethan said dully. “They just wanted me. He was - God - dead weight.” Kethan laughed at that, exactly the laugh of someone who’d seen just enough death to not be in shock but too little to be able to process it rationally.
“I’ve turned off the damping equipment,” came Ashild’s voice as she stepped out of the small ship. “And contacted the Evening Star. I told them…” she trailed off, letting a hand stretch out towards them and then fall away. She was pale and uncertain looking, a far cry from the previous, confident woman who’d gotten them here.
“Good,” replied Kethan, head bent. He lifted it up and dragged a hand across his mouth before stooping and trying to get a grip on Brenneth’s body. It was hard; Brenneth was perhaps six and a half feet tall, and thickly muscled. Ianto helped, and they ended up with Brenneth’s body between them, arms slung around their shoulders, staggering under the awkward weight.
“I’ll go get the cart,” Ashild said, faintly, as she watched them struggle. “I’ll meet you at the entrance.”
Kethan grunted in affirmation, and he and Ianto followed her route out of the warehouse, eventually reaching the main entrance. They let the body rest against the wall, and Ianto leaned back, panting in exertion, watching as Kethan stood stock still in the rain for a long moment, before turning and driving his fist into the wall with an untranslated curse.
Ianto didn’t move; he’d seen Jack in the throes of grief, before, but never like this. His Jack was restrained, more in grief than in anything else in his life. Kethan, on the other hand, had shot six people without hesitating in reaction, and Ianto didn’t know quite how to fit that into his image of Kethan.
“Don’t judge me,” Kethan growled, as if reading Ianto’s mind. The other man stepped in front of Ianto and put his hands on his shoulders, shaking him. “I didn’t have a choice.”
Ianto didn’t say anything. He wanted to believe Kethan, but… He did have a choice.
Kethan’s face twisted, and morphed into something that said he was willing to fight to prove it. “I couldn’t leave them alive. They were mercs, they would have done the same thing, again and again. They could have lead the Agency right to us, right now, if they were in contact with them.” He shook Ianto again, hard, and Ianto just let it happen. Kethan started to say something more, but he dropped back when the sound of the cart came through the wind.
Ashild drew up beside them and slid off, saying “We won’t all fit. One in front and one behind?”
“I’ll walk,” Ianto offered, though he was reluctant to let Kethan out of his sight.
Ashild nodded, and the three of them maneuvered the body onto the cart, Ashild in front, driving, and Kethan behind, supporting the weight. Ashild gave Ianto a tight nod and then drove off, leaving Ianto to walk back to the ship on his own.
~
Ianto finished stripping off his wet clothes, hanging them up on hooks attached to the wall, and rooted around for something clean. He was trying not to think about everything that had just happened. When he’d returned to the Evening Star, the body had already been put away, and Kethan had disappeared with Ashild and Varelle to debrief. Zoanne had stopped Ianto on his way to his quarters. Expecting a rant, Ianto had braced himself, but instead, she’d just said “Thank you for trying,” and left him alone, wet and dripping at the foot of the stairs.
Ianto had located a clean pair of pants and trousers. He was putting them on, wriggling to get the trousers over his damp skin, when the door slid open and Kethan came in, still dressed in his own wet clothes. He stopped in the doorway, watching Ianto as if he was trying to find something. Ianto looked back steadily, trying to project a calmness that he wasn’t entirely feeling. Whatever Kethan was looking for, he must have found it, because he stepped past Ianto and sank down onto the bed, face in his hands. Ianto was quiet for a moment, and then he reached over, tugging at the collar of Kethan’s jacket.
“You’re getting the bed wet,” he said softly. “You should get out of those clothes.”
Kethan just nodded, letting his hands drop loosely to his sides so Ianto could pull the jacket off. Ianto hung it on a hook and then came back over, tugging Kethan’s shirt out of his trousers and peeling it back from his skin.
“Arms up,” he said, and then pulled the shirt up when Kethan obeyed, before kneeling in front of him and starting to unlace his boots.
“You don’t need to do this,” Kethan said, without an ounce of feeling.
“I don’t mind,” Ianto replied matter-of-factly, pulling off one boot and then the other, and then tugging off wet socks. “Up,” he said, tugging at Kethan’s hips.
He undid the fastenings on Kethan’s trousers and then tugged them down. They stuck to his skin, and Kethan braced his hands on Ianto’s shoulders as he stepped out of them. Ianto picked them up and shook them out before hanging them up as well, and then turned back to the other man. Ianto moved forward, not sure if he meant to embrace Kethan or simply be closer, but Kethan flinched back, and then turned away to sort through his own clothes.
“Kethan…” Ianto said with a sigh.
“Should have warned you I was a murderer, huh?” Kethan said belligerently. He found a pair of trousers, loose cotton ones, and pulled them on.
“You’re not a murderer,” Ianto said, not stopping to worry about whether or not he believed it himself. Kethan needed to hear it, needed to believe it, and Ianto wasn’t going to let his own shock get in the way of that. “You’re a good man, Kethan. You did what you thought needed to be done.” When Kethan didn’t say anything, he continued. “I know you, don’t forget that.”
Kethan’s face twisted, and he grabbed Ianto’s forearm in an angry grip. “I’m not a good person, Ianto. Don’t think you know me, just because you know who I become.”
“Goodness isn’t something you learn,” Ianto said, not moving.
“No, but it sure as hell can be denied.”
They stared off for a moment, and then Kethan dropped Ianto’s arm and turned away again, pulling on a shirt and buttoning it up. Ianto leaned back against the wall and watched him, uncertain.
“I didn’t need an excuse,” Kethan said eventually. “I couldn’t let them go, but even then, I would have killed them. Brenneth didn’t deserve to die, not like that.” His voice cracked on his friend’s name, and when he looked at Ianto, his eyes were dark and empty.
Ianto wasn’t a touchy-feely person; it was Jack who connected to others with physical contact, but knowing that made Ianto step forward. He came into Kethan’s personal space and placed his hands on Kethan’s shoulders, thumbing his collarbone in slow circles.
“You killed your enemies, enemies who killed your friend. It might not have been the most noble thing to do, but it’s not unthinkable,” he said, slowly, considering his words. “I almost destroyed so many innocent people, for one person I loved. You forgave me, then. I’m not going to judge you now. I couldn’t possibly.”
Kethan let his head drop against Ianto’s shoulder, and Ianto could feel his harsh breath through the thin shirt. Ianto slid his hands around so they pressed against the shifting muscles of Kethan’s back. They stood like that for several minutes, and then Kethan turned his head and pressed his lips to Ianto’s neck, once, and again, and then Ianto pulled back a little. Kethan took advantage of it, and kissed him. Ianto froze, uncertain, but Kethan didn’t let up and eventually Ianto parted his lips in acquiescence, letting the other man’s cool tongue slip into his mouth.
They stood there, just kissing, until Ianto realized that Kethan was trembling, and that he’d been in his wet clothes in the warehouse for over an hour, as well as some time for the debriefing.
“Bed,” he said, pushing Kethan back. “You’re too cold.”
“Gonna warm me up?” It would have been a joke but Kethan didn’t seem to be able to find the smile to go along with it.
Ianto just shrugged and pulled back the covers, slipping under them and holding them up for Kethan to follow. When they were both in bed, Kethan reached over and slid a hand under Ianto’s shirt, fingers tracing the lines of muscle present there.
“Opal said you disobeyed her to come after me. Us.”
Ianto made an affirmative noise, shivering under the other man’s light touch.
“Why? You know I survive.”
“You’re important to me,” Ianto said with a sigh. “And when I’m from, we tend to prefer the ‘leave no man behind’ philosophy. You certainly hold to it.”
“I do?” Kethan asked, scratching his nails against Ianto’s skin absently.
“Yes. And stop that, it’s distracting.”
“Maybe I need a distraction.”
Ianto propped himself up on his side and looked down at Kethan. Kethan was watching him with hooded eyes that were mired in pain, and when Ianto reached out and ran a hand down his cheek, they flickered shut.
“Please.”
Ianto let his hand trail down, skimming across the defined muscle of Kethan’s pecs, down the line of his stomach and to his hip, then traced along the waistband of his trousers. Kethan breathed out and arched up into the touch, eyes still clenched shut.
“Please,” he said again, and Ianto obliged, tugging the trousers down and gripping him. His heart felt like it was in his throat as he watched this man, this marvelous, fucked-up, hero of a man stretch and flex and murmur encouragement beneath him.
Kethan let him touch, moving minutely until his breathing became harsh and punctuated, and then sat up, pushing Ianto off him and rolling him onto his back.
“Can I-” he asked, running a hand along Ianto’s inner thigh.
“Yeah.”
Kethan got up and Ianto shimmied out of his clothes, tugging his shirt over his head as Kethan settled himself between Ianto’s legs, shifting up so Ianto’s thighs were over his.
“Thank you,” he said, and Ianto almost missed it as slick fingers prepared him.
“For what?” He said, putting an effort into watching Kethan’s face. The man looked wrecked, and Ianto desperately wished he could do something to fix it.
“For coming after me. You good?”
Ianto nodded and Kethan pressed into him, hands under his thighs, holding him up and back as Kethan set a slow, aching rhythm. Neither of them said anything more and Ianto let his eyes fall shut, the spreading physical sensations taking precedence over the heartwrenching pains of the day. Kethan shifted, pressing Ianto further back into the bed and Ianto opened his eyes, watching Kethan’s tight expression and the tremor in his arms. He reached up and thumbed a line across Kethan’s lower lip and then dropped the hand down, bringing himself off in time with Kethan’s shallow, increasingly desperate strokes.
Kethan waited for him, Ianto could tell, and when he finally let himself go he let out a low groan that reverberated through his body, sending new shivers up Ianto’s spine as he wrapped a hand around Kethan’s neck and pulled him in, mumbling encouraging words into his ear.
“I’m sorry,” Kethan breathed.
“It’s okay,” Ianto said, not sure if Kethan was apologizing for the sex or for Brenneth or for the mercenaries. Whichever way, it didn’t matter, and Ianto just held him tight, pressing open-mouthed kisses to all the skin he could reach.
~
A/N: For the record, I cried when I planned this chapter.
Read Chapter 14.
Summary: In which things don't quite go to plan.
A/N: I said tuesday, right? Tuesday it is! Big thanks to thaddeusfavour for telling me I could pull this off, and to both her and bacchae777 for the edit.
Previous chapters here.
~
“Keep the doors locked, then,” she said simply. “Start the take-off sequence and be ready to go at the first sign of trouble. But Ianto and I are getting the boys back.”
~
A few steps out of the ship and Ianto was drenched and thoroughly grateful for his jacket. His hair was plastered to his forehead, his trousers soaked through, but the jacket cut the rain and the wind to a manageable degree. Ashild was a few steps in front of him, and she stopped beside a small vehicle.
“Get on,” she called, voice almost being carried away by the wind. Ianto came closer to hear properly. “We’ll get there faster on this.”
“Where’d you get it?” he asked, sliding in behind her. It most resembled one of those all-terrain vehicles they seemed fond of in America. It had four wheels, but one long seat and a hitch at the back that might have attached to a trailer.
“Stole it on the way back,” Ashild said over her shoulder, fiddling with the controls. Ianto expected the sound of an engine, but it started moving forward quietly. Not a combustion engine; something electrical, perhaps? Whatever it was, Ianto was grateful for the ride. They wove through other ships; some a little smaller than the Evening Star, many almost double the size. Nobody else was outside, and neither of them said anything in the five minutes it took them to reach the compound. Ianto’s fists were clenched on his knees, and he was trying desperately not to think of what it would mean if they were too late. Vaguely, he was aware that Kethan had to survive this, for the sake of the timeline, but that didn’t stop his stomach from twisting with anxiety. And it wouldn’t keep any of the rest of them from dying.
The building on the perimeter of the landing field was behind a high fence, and Ashild pulled the cart up beside it, sliding off.
“And over we go,” she said, tugging experimentally on one of the links in the fence.
“We can’t just melt it?” Ianto asked skeptically.
“Nope. It’s sonic proof. Wouldn’t do much good as a fence if you could just blast through it.” She brushed a wet lock of hair out of her face and scaled the fence easily, dropping the eight or so feet on the other side before turning and giving Ianto an expectant look.
Ianto couldn’t see that the fence was doing a whole lot of good if you could just climb right over it, either, but at this point he wasn’t complaining. He followed Ashild, grateful for the give in his trousers as he threw his legs over the top and dropped down beside her. Once there, Ashild gripped his elbow and pulled him in front of her.
“Before we go any farther, I need to know. Can I rely on you?” She pointed at his blasters. “You only just learned how to use those things. Are you going to forget when I most need you to remember?”
Ianto shook his head and pulled his .45 out of its holster. “I won't forget. And I can shoot this well enough. If things go wrong, it won't be because of me.” He was deadly serious. . Checking the .45 competently, Ianto was suddenly thankful for all the hours he and Jack had spent on the shooting range. Hours Kethan was going to eventually get to live through, if Ianto had anything to say about it.
She nodded, and then flipped open her wristband. She pressed the small buttons, flipping through dense sets of illegible text and then looked over at the warehouse.
“Mum and I took out the sensors the first pass through. It looks like they haven't fixed them. Better yet, their sentries have moved.”
Ianto peered through the rain at the warehouse. He could just make out the dark shadow of the near entrance. “How can you tell?”
She waved her wrist. "Proximity sensors. You're the nearest warm body around."
"Ah. So do we think they're gathered wherever they're holding Kethan and Brenneth?"
"That would be a safe guess."
Ianto hugged his arms to his body as they made their way from the perimeter to the warehouse. His jacket stopped much of the wind, but the rain seeped down his collar, trickling unpleasantly down his body and making him shiver. They reached the wall of the building, but that provided no relief; the wind seemed to be stronger there, funneling itself along the corrugated metal. A quick conversation lead them to decide to try the roof.
“We’ll be able to do a faster sweep, this way,” Ashild shouted back at him into the wind as they followed along the exterior. “Less likely to run into locked doors that we have to blast through.”
Ianto nodded, though she couldn’t see him, and ducked his head to keep the rain out of his eyes while he followed. When they reached the ladder, Ashild scaled it quickly, and he followed, hands gripping tight to the wet metal of the bars. The top of the roof was mostly flat and empty, save some pipes and vents and, here and there, low squares that jutted out of the surface. Those were entrances to the upper service level of the warehouse. One of them would take he and Ashild down to Kethan Brenneth and the mercenaries, and Ianto itched with the desire to go storming in.
“We’ll see if we can find a probable location,” Ashild said, head bent over her wristband. “And we’ll take the nearest entrance.”
They made their way across the roof, the wind and the rain making it difficult as they stepped across uneven, slippery metal and slick asphalt. Ianto tripped, once, catching himself at the last moment, the rain stinging across his neck as it fell harder and faster. He stopped for a moment, trying to centre himself; everything was moving too fast. He leaned forward, hands on his knees, going over the blueprints in his mind in an attempt to ground himself. Ashild noticed and came back beside him.
“If we don’t get shot,” he shouted over the wind, “we’ll probably get blown off the roof.”
She gave him a tense smile, and gripped his elbow. “I wouldn’t let you. Wait here a moment, I’m getting a reading, let me see how strong I can make it.”
Ianto wrapped his arms around himself, watching as she walked in zigzags across a small portion of the roof, stopping occasionally to brush wet locks of hair out of her eyes. Eventually, she wound her way back to a spot a little to Ianto’s left.
“They’re under here, as good as I can make out. How well do you remember the blueprints?”
Ianto considered and looked around, judging the distances of the nearest entrances and the edge of the roof.
“They’re probably in the secondary storage area. The large one on the north side?” Ianto guessed, continuing at her nod. “Then, that entrance,” he said as he pointed to his right, “should lead to a second stairwell on the north side from the main entrance, and we could get onto the maintenance catwalks from there.”
“Agreed.”
Ashild made quick work of the seal with her blaster - Ianto would have to ask, someday, what the point of locks were if you had weapons that would make such short work of them - and hauled open the trap-door. A set of steep stairs - more of a ladder, really, descended into darkness. They exchanged a quick glance, and then Ianto went first, gun in hand, held up and tight to his body as his other hand steadied him down the stairs. Ashild followed after him, leaving the heavy metal door open so that Ianto could see a square patch of the floor before he reached it.
“Leaving it open?” he asked, looking up and then back again as the rain fell against his face. Ianto couldn’t help but feel a little claustrophobic, knowing that he was walking into a trap, and a successful trap, at that. The weather seemed almost welcoming in comparison to the dark of the hall.
“We might want to get out quickly,” Ashild replied, tucking her sonic blaster back in its holster and pulling out a laser one instead. “I’m going first - if we have to shoot any guards, this’ll do the job quietly.”
Ianto nodded, looking around as his eyes adjusted to the dark. It wasn’t actually pitch black, he realized; there were dimly shining lines of light, a sickly shade of green, along the floor that edged the small hall they were standing in. As his vision adjusted, Ianto could see a door immediately across from the ladder they had descended.
“That should be the entrance to the stairwell.”
Ashild opened the door and went through it. The stairwell itself was lit, not with any light bulbs that Ianto could locate, but large strips along the wall that glowed like the lines in the roof access. Across from the door they had come in was another door, and between them, a stairwell that lead down. Ashild stepped quietly over to the door, and stood beside it, gesturing at Ianto for silence as she unlatched it and pulled it slowly open, blaster at the ready. Ianto realized he was holding his breath, unconsciously, and let it out slowly. Whatever was on the other side, they’d deal with it when they got there. Kethan would be alright - but that didn’t mean Ianto would see him again. A flicker of fear ran through Ianto at that thought; he’d been so focused on the fact that Kethan would survive, it never occurred to him he might be taken by the Time Agency now. Ianto shut his eyes for barely a moment and steadied himself. He hoped they weren’t too late.
No one came through it, or stopped them, so Ashild pulled it open enough to slip through, letting Ianto catch the door before she let go, and Ianto let it shut quietly behind him as he took in their position. They were on a catwalk above a large room that was mostly empty and lit by the same dull green light as the hall, only to one side, a brighter light on the wall threw the shapes of several people into sharp relief. Ashild twisted a hand towards them, tilting her head at Ianto, and he nodded in response. There was their mark, but they were too far away, and the room was too dark, to make out who was who, and part of their vision was obscured by what looked like a small ship.
Ashild motioned at Ianto to follow her, and he did, glad for the soft rubber of his boots that kept his steps silent. The catwalk trailed around the edge of the room; they could have taken the one stretched across it, as well, but that would have left them incredibly exposed. As they wound their way around to the group of people, Ianto could make out two figures in front of posts; they resolved into Brenneth and Kethan, and judging by the way their arms were wrenched back, they were tied in place. Ianto resisted the urge to let out a sigh of utter relief, but instead he swallowed, hoping his heartbeat was quieter than it sounded in his ears. He was sure that any moment now, one of the mercenaries would look up, and they would be caught. Realistically, the catwalk was so dim in comparison to the area where the mercenaries were standing that they probably wouldn’t notice them even if they did look up.
They reached a position just over the group of men and women; low conversation from the group floated up, but Ianto couldn’t make it out. Kethan and Brenneth were secured to support posts; both were gagged as well. Oh, Kethan would hate that; Jack had always despised having his mouth covered like that. There was a ladder here that would get them to the catwalk, tucked behind support beams between the ship and the group of people. Ashild slipped quickly down it, and when Ianto reached the bottom, she pulled him up against the ship. They could see Kethan and Brenneth from the shadows they stood in, but the mercenaries were out of view.
Ashild motioned to Ianto, and when he came near, she pressed her mouth to his ear.
“They’re going to leave, in this ship,” she said, voice barely audible, just a breath in his ear. “We need to take one by surprise from a secure position, but we’ll have to wait until fewer of them are-” She broke off her sentence at the whine of laser fire with a choked sob, and Ianto was sure they would have been heard were it not for Kethan’s furious, muffled scream.
“Oh God,” Ashild said, bracing against the ship, and Ianto watched in horror as Brenneth’s body sagged against the bonds, head lolling against his chest. There was no mistaking the weight of his body, nor the rage in Kethan’s voice. At first, Ianto couldn’t hear anything but ringing in his ears, the shock of being too late, of there being no way to go back and no way they could undo what had just happened, but Ashild was frozen and Ianto, at least, could still think. He rested a hand against Ashild’s forearm, grounding her, meeting her eyes steadily.
“Now,” was all he said. Her eyes were unfocused for a moment, and then she seemed to come back to herself, and a mask of sheer determination fell over her face. She nodded, and whirled away. Before Ianto could say anything more, she’d moved out beyond the cover of the ship and had her laser blaster against the temple of one of the mercenaries and her sonic one pointed at a cluster to one side.
“This is set to a wide beam,” Ashild said, voice terrifyingly calm. “Move, and I will take you all out.”
Nobody moved.
“Ianto,” she said as he stepped out from behind the ship. “Untie Kethan.”
He nodded and walked over to Kethan, spine tingling with the knowledge that six mercenaries could shoot him at any time. Kethan was straining against his bonds, temple throbbing with effort, and Ianto had to murmur to him to relax so the bonds loosened enough to undo. Once he’d freed Kethan’s hands, Kethan wrenched out the gag and pulled Ianto over to him. Ianto started as Kethan’s hands slid down his thighs, and then, all of a sudden, Kethan had a blaster in each hand and was firing, taking out the group of five mercenaries before Ianto could blink.
“Kethan,” he breathed, staring at the pile of bodies in the warehouse. Ashild still had her blaster pressed against the temple of the last mercenary. Kethan reached down and reholstered one of the blasters, the force almost tipping Ianto over in his shock.
“Ashild. Move,” he demanded, striding over towards her. Ashild hesitated, before stepping back, and Kethan brought up his blaster, stopping a few feet in front of the mercenary. “Who hired you?”
The man looked at him, mouth pressed tight. “If I tell you, will you let me go?”
“Yes.”
“Time Agency.”
“Thank you,” said Kethan, and then he fired, watching dispassionately as the man crumpled before him. Kethan stood still, though Ianto could see his arms were shaking minutely, before turning and walking over to where Brenneth’s body was slouched against the post while Ianto watched in shock. Kethan put the blaster on the floor beside him, and slowly, methodically, started undoing the bonds.
Ianto finally came to his senses and joined Kethan, kneeling on the other side of the body - Brenneth - and undoing the gag. The skin was still warm to the touch, and the gag was wet as Ianto undid it, and even though he’d done this before, even though dead bodies were no mystery to him, he wanted to be sick. The sight of Kethan, mowing down the mercenaries without a second thought… Ianto was pretty sure his mind wasn’t able to process that image yet.
“Did you really-”
“Yes. And shut up.”
Ianto started, looking at Kethan’s face for the first time. It was twisted into the grimace of someone doing their best not to cry; his cheek bit between his teeth, his forehead furrowed as he fumbled with the knots. Ianto reached out and pushed his hands away, undoing the last of them and letting the rope fall away. Rope. Who would have thought they’d still use something so mundane to tie up their prisoners. For execution. Ianto thought, numbly.
“Why did they shoot him?” he asked, and this time, Kethan didn’t interrupt him.
“They didn’t need him,” Kethan said dully. “They just wanted me. He was - God - dead weight.” Kethan laughed at that, exactly the laugh of someone who’d seen just enough death to not be in shock but too little to be able to process it rationally.
“I’ve turned off the damping equipment,” came Ashild’s voice as she stepped out of the small ship. “And contacted the Evening Star. I told them…” she trailed off, letting a hand stretch out towards them and then fall away. She was pale and uncertain looking, a far cry from the previous, confident woman who’d gotten them here.
“Good,” replied Kethan, head bent. He lifted it up and dragged a hand across his mouth before stooping and trying to get a grip on Brenneth’s body. It was hard; Brenneth was perhaps six and a half feet tall, and thickly muscled. Ianto helped, and they ended up with Brenneth’s body between them, arms slung around their shoulders, staggering under the awkward weight.
“I’ll go get the cart,” Ashild said, faintly, as she watched them struggle. “I’ll meet you at the entrance.”
Kethan grunted in affirmation, and he and Ianto followed her route out of the warehouse, eventually reaching the main entrance. They let the body rest against the wall, and Ianto leaned back, panting in exertion, watching as Kethan stood stock still in the rain for a long moment, before turning and driving his fist into the wall with an untranslated curse.
Ianto didn’t move; he’d seen Jack in the throes of grief, before, but never like this. His Jack was restrained, more in grief than in anything else in his life. Kethan, on the other hand, had shot six people without hesitating in reaction, and Ianto didn’t know quite how to fit that into his image of Kethan.
“Don’t judge me,” Kethan growled, as if reading Ianto’s mind. The other man stepped in front of Ianto and put his hands on his shoulders, shaking him. “I didn’t have a choice.”
Ianto didn’t say anything. He wanted to believe Kethan, but… He did have a choice.
Kethan’s face twisted, and morphed into something that said he was willing to fight to prove it. “I couldn’t leave them alive. They were mercs, they would have done the same thing, again and again. They could have lead the Agency right to us, right now, if they were in contact with them.” He shook Ianto again, hard, and Ianto just let it happen. Kethan started to say something more, but he dropped back when the sound of the cart came through the wind.
Ashild drew up beside them and slid off, saying “We won’t all fit. One in front and one behind?”
“I’ll walk,” Ianto offered, though he was reluctant to let Kethan out of his sight.
Ashild nodded, and the three of them maneuvered the body onto the cart, Ashild in front, driving, and Kethan behind, supporting the weight. Ashild gave Ianto a tight nod and then drove off, leaving Ianto to walk back to the ship on his own.
~
Ianto finished stripping off his wet clothes, hanging them up on hooks attached to the wall, and rooted around for something clean. He was trying not to think about everything that had just happened. When he’d returned to the Evening Star, the body had already been put away, and Kethan had disappeared with Ashild and Varelle to debrief. Zoanne had stopped Ianto on his way to his quarters. Expecting a rant, Ianto had braced himself, but instead, she’d just said “Thank you for trying,” and left him alone, wet and dripping at the foot of the stairs.
Ianto had located a clean pair of pants and trousers. He was putting them on, wriggling to get the trousers over his damp skin, when the door slid open and Kethan came in, still dressed in his own wet clothes. He stopped in the doorway, watching Ianto as if he was trying to find something. Ianto looked back steadily, trying to project a calmness that he wasn’t entirely feeling. Whatever Kethan was looking for, he must have found it, because he stepped past Ianto and sank down onto the bed, face in his hands. Ianto was quiet for a moment, and then he reached over, tugging at the collar of Kethan’s jacket.
“You’re getting the bed wet,” he said softly. “You should get out of those clothes.”
Kethan just nodded, letting his hands drop loosely to his sides so Ianto could pull the jacket off. Ianto hung it on a hook and then came back over, tugging Kethan’s shirt out of his trousers and peeling it back from his skin.
“Arms up,” he said, and then pulled the shirt up when Kethan obeyed, before kneeling in front of him and starting to unlace his boots.
“You don’t need to do this,” Kethan said, without an ounce of feeling.
“I don’t mind,” Ianto replied matter-of-factly, pulling off one boot and then the other, and then tugging off wet socks. “Up,” he said, tugging at Kethan’s hips.
He undid the fastenings on Kethan’s trousers and then tugged them down. They stuck to his skin, and Kethan braced his hands on Ianto’s shoulders as he stepped out of them. Ianto picked them up and shook them out before hanging them up as well, and then turned back to the other man. Ianto moved forward, not sure if he meant to embrace Kethan or simply be closer, but Kethan flinched back, and then turned away to sort through his own clothes.
“Kethan…” Ianto said with a sigh.
“Should have warned you I was a murderer, huh?” Kethan said belligerently. He found a pair of trousers, loose cotton ones, and pulled them on.
“You’re not a murderer,” Ianto said, not stopping to worry about whether or not he believed it himself. Kethan needed to hear it, needed to believe it, and Ianto wasn’t going to let his own shock get in the way of that. “You’re a good man, Kethan. You did what you thought needed to be done.” When Kethan didn’t say anything, he continued. “I know you, don’t forget that.”
Kethan’s face twisted, and he grabbed Ianto’s forearm in an angry grip. “I’m not a good person, Ianto. Don’t think you know me, just because you know who I become.”
“Goodness isn’t something you learn,” Ianto said, not moving.
“No, but it sure as hell can be denied.”
They stared off for a moment, and then Kethan dropped Ianto’s arm and turned away again, pulling on a shirt and buttoning it up. Ianto leaned back against the wall and watched him, uncertain.
“I didn’t need an excuse,” Kethan said eventually. “I couldn’t let them go, but even then, I would have killed them. Brenneth didn’t deserve to die, not like that.” His voice cracked on his friend’s name, and when he looked at Ianto, his eyes were dark and empty.
Ianto wasn’t a touchy-feely person; it was Jack who connected to others with physical contact, but knowing that made Ianto step forward. He came into Kethan’s personal space and placed his hands on Kethan’s shoulders, thumbing his collarbone in slow circles.
“You killed your enemies, enemies who killed your friend. It might not have been the most noble thing to do, but it’s not unthinkable,” he said, slowly, considering his words. “I almost destroyed so many innocent people, for one person I loved. You forgave me, then. I’m not going to judge you now. I couldn’t possibly.”
Kethan let his head drop against Ianto’s shoulder, and Ianto could feel his harsh breath through the thin shirt. Ianto slid his hands around so they pressed against the shifting muscles of Kethan’s back. They stood like that for several minutes, and then Kethan turned his head and pressed his lips to Ianto’s neck, once, and again, and then Ianto pulled back a little. Kethan took advantage of it, and kissed him. Ianto froze, uncertain, but Kethan didn’t let up and eventually Ianto parted his lips in acquiescence, letting the other man’s cool tongue slip into his mouth.
They stood there, just kissing, until Ianto realized that Kethan was trembling, and that he’d been in his wet clothes in the warehouse for over an hour, as well as some time for the debriefing.
“Bed,” he said, pushing Kethan back. “You’re too cold.”
“Gonna warm me up?” It would have been a joke but Kethan didn’t seem to be able to find the smile to go along with it.
Ianto just shrugged and pulled back the covers, slipping under them and holding them up for Kethan to follow. When they were both in bed, Kethan reached over and slid a hand under Ianto’s shirt, fingers tracing the lines of muscle present there.
“Opal said you disobeyed her to come after me. Us.”
Ianto made an affirmative noise, shivering under the other man’s light touch.
“Why? You know I survive.”
“You’re important to me,” Ianto said with a sigh. “And when I’m from, we tend to prefer the ‘leave no man behind’ philosophy. You certainly hold to it.”
“I do?” Kethan asked, scratching his nails against Ianto’s skin absently.
“Yes. And stop that, it’s distracting.”
“Maybe I need a distraction.”
Ianto propped himself up on his side and looked down at Kethan. Kethan was watching him with hooded eyes that were mired in pain, and when Ianto reached out and ran a hand down his cheek, they flickered shut.
“Please.”
Ianto let his hand trail down, skimming across the defined muscle of Kethan’s pecs, down the line of his stomach and to his hip, then traced along the waistband of his trousers. Kethan breathed out and arched up into the touch, eyes still clenched shut.
“Please,” he said again, and Ianto obliged, tugging the trousers down and gripping him. His heart felt like it was in his throat as he watched this man, this marvelous, fucked-up, hero of a man stretch and flex and murmur encouragement beneath him.
Kethan let him touch, moving minutely until his breathing became harsh and punctuated, and then sat up, pushing Ianto off him and rolling him onto his back.
“Can I-” he asked, running a hand along Ianto’s inner thigh.
“Yeah.”
Kethan got up and Ianto shimmied out of his clothes, tugging his shirt over his head as Kethan settled himself between Ianto’s legs, shifting up so Ianto’s thighs were over his.
“Thank you,” he said, and Ianto almost missed it as slick fingers prepared him.
“For what?” He said, putting an effort into watching Kethan’s face. The man looked wrecked, and Ianto desperately wished he could do something to fix it.
“For coming after me. You good?”
Ianto nodded and Kethan pressed into him, hands under his thighs, holding him up and back as Kethan set a slow, aching rhythm. Neither of them said anything more and Ianto let his eyes fall shut, the spreading physical sensations taking precedence over the heartwrenching pains of the day. Kethan shifted, pressing Ianto further back into the bed and Ianto opened his eyes, watching Kethan’s tight expression and the tremor in his arms. He reached up and thumbed a line across Kethan’s lower lip and then dropped the hand down, bringing himself off in time with Kethan’s shallow, increasingly desperate strokes.
Kethan waited for him, Ianto could tell, and when he finally let himself go he let out a low groan that reverberated through his body, sending new shivers up Ianto’s spine as he wrapped a hand around Kethan’s neck and pulled him in, mumbling encouraging words into his ear.
“I’m sorry,” Kethan breathed.
“It’s okay,” Ianto said, not sure if Kethan was apologizing for the sex or for Brenneth or for the mercenaries. Whichever way, it didn’t matter, and Ianto just held him tight, pressing open-mouthed kisses to all the skin he could reach.
~
A/N: For the record, I cried when I planned this chapter.
Read Chapter 14.