Served Cold | Chapter 14
Title: Served Cold
Author: mercury_pheonix
Fandom: Torchwood/Doctor Who
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Children of Earth Fix-It.
Characters: Jack Harkness, Ianto Jones, Gray, The Eleventh Doctor, Amy Pond, Rory Williams, Alonso Frame
Pairings: Jack/Ianto, Amy/Rory, Jack/Alonso, Ianto/Gray (one-sided, non-con)
Ratings/Warnings: R - sex, rape, abuse, torture.
Spoilers: All series.
Summary: When the Hub explodes, and the cryogenic chambers are flung open, one of its inhabitants manages to flee the wreckage. Seeking revenge, he decides that the best way to hurt Captain Jack Harkness is through a certain Welshman. There's one problem, however - Ianto Jones is dead…
Nominated for TWO Children of Time Awards.
A/N: Thank you once again for your constant support. I always thought getting to Uni was the hard part, but now I have my hands full with packing, making lists, planning, panicking and getting into fights I can't win with Student Finance. This is, as you might have gathered, my excuse for the late chapter. It was also a difficult one to write, and it took me a while to get it to a point where I was pleased with it. I hope you enjoy it - and I hope it was worth the wait! Thank you, thank you and thank you!
Chapter 13 | Masterlist | Chapter 15
Served Cold
Chapter 14
"Jack, I want you to think about this - think about it really carefully before you make any decision that you're going to regret."
There was a fire shining from the Doctor's eyes as he spoke, the dark pupils following Jack's pacing form with an intensity that seemed to burn through the thick material of his greatcoat. Jack pushed a hand through his hair nervously, the nails catching painfully at the roots as he struggled to keep his trembling fingers still.
"I have thought about it," he whispered softly, the dullness of his eyes in direct contrast to the Doctor's. "I have gone over it, over and over again in my head, and this is the best way. For everyone. Trust me."
"Hey," the Doctor held up his hands. "I do trust you. Completely and utterly - I'd put my life in your hands. Have done in the past, in fact. But this isn't my life we're talking about. It's his."
Jack's head shot up to fix the Doctor with a glare.
"You think I don't know that, Doctor?"
"I didn't say that," the Doctor sighed, huffing out a breath to waft the stray strand of hair from his eyes. "I'm just not overly convinced that you've got a clear head, that's all. And I don't want you making any decisions you're going to regret."
Jack plunged his hands into his pockets, crossing his arms over his stomach to cocoon himself in the warm fabric. It was something the Doctor had observed a lot of in the past few weeks; a nuance that he'd never seen before, a protective gesture that reminded him more of a frightened child than the Captain he had known so well. He took a step forward slowly, his hands tucked behind his back to disguise the light sheen of sweat developing on the palms.
"I know what it's like to make decisions that you later regret, Jack. Trust me, I know."
Jack looked up so that his eyes were focusing on a spot just above the Doctor's right shoulder, avoiding his direct gaze.
"I have made so many decisions," his voice stuck in his throat, the syllables dull and expressionless as they left his lips. "I've had to do things you wouldn't even believe, and I regret them every single second of my existence. But that doesn't mean that they don't have to be done."
"This doesn't, Jack. You have options here, if you'd just stop and think for just one second about what you're suggesting…
"I try so hard to forget, and I just can't," a glossy film appeared across the grey-blue of Jack's eyes, as if a fog had descended on a summer's day. "If I could forget then it would be easy, and it's not meant to be easy. That's something I've learned. Someone has to be punished, and that someone is me. You have to make sacrifices, and it's better if he never sees me again. Can't you see that I'm thinking about him, Doctor? Not me."
The Doctor swallowed hard, watching as the moisture began to gather in droplets at the corner of Jack's eye.
"You think he'll be better off without you," he paused, gauging Jack's reaction. "But you don't know that. It's his decision to make; his life, not yours. So I have to ask the question…are you really being as selfless as you think you are?"
Jack opened his mouth, his eyes flashing, but the Doctor held up his hand with an authority that defied interruption.
"Is it really what's best for him? Pumped full of an amnesia drug and dumped in a psychiatric hospital, with God-only-knows-what damaged or missing or unexplained in his mind? I don't think that you really think that's for the best. Nah ah!" - Jack opened his mouth, only to be once again silence with a flick of the Doctor's hand - "Don't interrupt me. I'm an old man and you should learn to respect your elders."
He reached to his neck, brushing his slightly sweaty fingers against the bow tie as he readjusted the silken material.
"See - I have a bow tie and everything. But, anyway, the point is: I've been around the block a few times, even if this boyish charm does tend to disguise that a bit. And I think I know you more than you give me credit for. So hear me out. I don't think this is about him at all. I think this is about you."
Jack's lips had set into a thin line, the crimson flesh stained white with the pressure of the action. His eyes flicked searchingly across the Doctor's face, his pupils delving deep into his expression as if trying to catch something he couldn't quite hold. A few seconds passed which felt unsettlingly longer than they actually were, and the Doctor found himself rocking on his heels nervously. Eventually, however, Jack's mouth loosened and his tongue flicked out, swiping gently over his bottom lip.
"I tried to forget him, Doctor. Did you know that? He died for me, he gave me everything he had. And the one thing he asked for in return was a tiny place in my memory. I couldn't even give him that. I promised him I wouldn't forget and that's the first thing I tried to do."
The Doctor stepped forward, resting a hand on Jack's shoulder before he could pull away.
"That's why I can't…I can't face him knowing that. Hell, he's probably not even him anymore. You heard what Gray said - I get him back and I still lose him. Do you know what that feels like?"
"Yes," the Doctor whispered, his thumb roving in small circles across Jack's shoulder blade. "I do, actually."
"Which is why you'll understand…why I have to do this. Right?"
"Yeah, of course I do," the Doctor's hand fell back, burrowing into his pocket as he turned away. "But that doesn't mean I won't do everything in my power to stop you though," he called over his shoulder, making his way slowly around the console to peer at the ragged screen.
"Now, I'm going to fly us as far away from Earth as possible - just to give you a little more time to think about it. Seems like the kindest thing to do…" his hand came down harshly on a button at the console, fingers twisting nimbly on the silver taps that controlled the navigation systems. "I'm thinking of the Constellation of Balsamatia - it's always good to have a nice rhyme when you're travelling through the darkest depths of space. Plus, it's the ultimate area of recovery, as you know; the best possible place that we can take your Jones to get him back on his feet. You can glare all you want Jack Harkness, but I'm the one with the Tardis, so that means we go where we say. Now shut up and grab that knob…"
Jack raised an eyebrow tiredly, hardly even tempted to catch hold of the innuendo, and the fire in his eyes stuttered as he made his way towards the main console. He glanced at the Doctor, watching him as he danced around the control panel of the time ship like a ballerina on a stage; it was almost artistic, almost beautiful in its elegance. Jack pulled his hand from his pocket, reaching out and brushing the pads of his fingers across the pulsing heart of the ship.
A cough interrupted them gently, and the both turned to face the noise. Alonso was leant against the far wall of the ship, his arms crossed nervously across his chest as he cleared his throat. Jack realised that he had been there all along, hidden away in the corner and witness to everything that and the Doctor had just said. He felt slightly hot under the collar as Alonso stepped forward, the blood gathering in his cheeks.
"I'm sorry to interrupt, but I'd quite like to discuss what you're planning on doing with the Ambulance."
"No, I'm sorry," Jack crossed his arms, coughing nervously. "You shouldn't have had to see that…sorry…"
"It's no problem," Alonso smiled weakly. "You get used to it, after a while. Blending in, being ignored, blocking things out - all comes with the territory really. When you do my kind of job, that is."
Jack felt guilt creeping up on him. He tried to smother it, but this was so similar to something he had experienced before. The last time he'd overlooked someone in the background, the last time he'd made that mistake…
"I just needed to ask - can I have the Ambulance, now that you're obviously finished with it? I was meant to be searching for it, after all, so it'd be great if I could take it back."
"No," the Doctor stepped forward, grinning broadly. "Sorry. Paradoxes and all that jazz - need to fire it out into the world for Jack to find in his past and our future so that he can meet me and then all this can actually have happened in the first place" - he stopped to breath - "luckily, the Ambulance was basically a carrier for the newest development in nanogenes technically. At this point, you see, they're still at a basic point in development, so there were a good few containers in there; transporting them from hospital to hospital for work or experimentation."
He turned to face Jack.
"Your brother only opened one container. So we can avoid a paradox here. You'll still find the Ambulance, it'll still hit London, and your whole history will still play out as you remember it. All problems avoided."
"Yeah, well," Jack shrugged, turning back to the console and bracing his forearms against the throbbing material. "If I didn't know it'd cause a rip in space and time, there's plenty of stuff I'd change. Actually, a rip in space and time sounds quite preferable these days."
He scraped a hand over his face, deliberately avoiding the look that passed over the Doctor's face. There was an intake of breath as the Timelord registered his words, his hands burrowing in his pockets and his teeth sinking painfully into his lips. As the silence progressed, he rocked back on his heels, blowing air from his cheeks as his eyes flicked from the console, to Jack, to the console and then back to Jack.
Luckily, Amy burst through the doors before he was expected to speak; she almost fell into the room, her face flushed and her hair flying like rampant flames around her face. All three of the room's occupants turned to face her, staring impatiently as she doubled over and gripped her stomach to calm her breathing. Eventually she looked up, catching their curious stares as she righted herself and attempted lean nonchalantly on the railing.
"Rory told me to come and get you, Doctor," she nodded towards the Timelord, before turning to Jack. "And I think you should come as well."
With that she turned, leading the way back from the room. Jack and the Doctor shared a quick glance before running after her, Jack catching at her arm and spinning her around.
"Wait…why do you need us?"
Amy caught his gaze, laying a hand on his own where it rested just above her elbow.
"Because he's awake. And you're coming with me, whether you like it or not."
x
x
Rory laid the back of his hand gently against Ianto's forehead, focusing his attention on taking his patient's temperature. It was a lot easier than looking into those eyes, those eyes that he hadn't quite expected to be so sharp; they bore into him with an intensity that was disconcerting, especially when coupled with the stoic silence that accompanied it.
The consistent heat thrummed from Ianto's skin, at just the right level to reassure Rory of the physical health of the young man. His hand dropped to his side, resting against the bed to support himself as he contemplated what to do next. That piercing gaze followed his every movement as he shuffled uncomfortably, his hands wringing in his lap. Eventually he conjured the will power to meet those eyes, almost drowning in the blue of the irises.
"Do you know where you are?" he tried, his fist clenching by his side as he kicked himself for the stupidity of his question. "I mean…do you…?"
He stopped suddenly as Ianto shook his head.
"What? Oh…you don't know? Oh, wait, of course you don't know where you are, I haven't told you. Ah…"
A low mumbling perforated the air as Ianto's lips began to move, the action so minute that Rory had to lean forward to see it. The man on the bed blinked, licking his lips determinedly before trying again, the sound quiet, yet clear, in the silence of the room.
"I'm not…stupid…" he whispered, in a voice that had obviously not been used for a long time.
"No! I know!" Rory ran a hand through his hair, his nails catching at the dull brown follicles. "I didn't mean...that's not what I meant…"
Ianto's eyes searched his own again, noting the uncertainty on his face and the trembling of his fingers. There was something burning in those eyes, something flickering ever so minutely before fading away into the depths of the pupils.
"Not stupid…" Ianto closed his eyes dully, his hand emerging from beneath the sheet to rub weakly at the bridge of his nose. "…just…crazy…"
Rory felt a flip in his heart as that word fell easily from Ianto's lips, those accented vowels tripping lightly over the word that held so many dark implications.
"Crazy?"
Ianto nodded, the movement languid and resigned.
"Why do you think you're crazy?"
Ianto's head flopped to the side as he seemed to take in the sight of the young nurse, his eyes flicking tiredly across his face. The pupils focused on Rory's features, as if testing and judging his honesty. It was a silly thing, but Rory felt as though he was being read and explored from the inside out, every single twitch of his face noted and detailed in the catalogue of Ianto's mind. It was a strange feeling, something that he'd never quite experienced before. He reckoned it had become a vital tool in Ianto's life over these past few months: the ability to read and judge and discern ulterior motives.
But there was something else - a professionalism that told him Ianto had been well-versed in this long before he had found himself on board the Chula Ambulance.
Ianto's tongue flicked out to moisten his dry lips.
"Can you hear them, then?"
"Hear what?" Rory's kept his voice as soft as possible; he knew he was walking a precarious tightrope, eager to show his concern for the damaged man but unwilling to patronise the intelligence that obviously still existed behind those eyes. A huff of air escaped Ianto's mouth in what Rory quickly interpreted was an attempt at a laugh.
"See? Crazy. You can't hear them, so why can I?" Ianto turned away from Rory, a slight film of moisture glistening on his eyes. "I tried to hang on, but I couldn't. I couldn't. I should have been able to. I didn't. I was weak."
A single tear fell down Ianto's cheek but his face remained still, showing no sign of the emotion that was swimming through the blue of his eyes. Rory reached forward impulsively, taking a gentle hold of Ianto's hand and squeezing as tightly as he could without causing alarm to the man's sharpened sensibilities.
"Can you look at me please?" he cleared his throat softly as he spoke, instilling as much authority as he dared into his voice. He knew, from his limited experience, that it should be up to the patient to make their own decisions, to give them their own time. At least, that was what he'd been taught - now that he was here, it was so much more difficult than he'd ever expected. But, determined to do this as properly as he could, he waited calmly, keeping his grip on Ianto's fingers until the stricken man decided to turn, locking their eyes with that piercing stare.
Rory swallowed, hard.
"Thank you. Now listen to me. You're not crazy. Even if you don't believe me, at least listen. I'm a nurse - I only work in a tiny little village hospital, but I've seen people who are suffering with PTSD. And that's what you've got. I know that doesn't mean much to you now, but trust me when I say that I've seen people who've lost everything they are. That's not you. There's still something left in you, I can see that in your eyes."
He sighed, dropping Ianto's hand.
"Sorry. I know I'm not much good at this, but I'm trying. The least you can do is do the same - try, I mean."
Resting his head on his palm, he looked back into Ianto's eyes, watching once again as they seemed to be reading every single word etched into the lines of his face. Suddenly, that numb face cracked into a small smile, the corners of his mouth stretching as far as they seemed able to go.
"I'll…try."
"Good," Rory smiled back, his lips parting to reveal his teeth as a sense of relief washed over him. "Now…I should probably tell you that you're in the Tardis. I know you know what that is, so I won't try explaining anything that I actually don't understand."
Ianto nodded, the smile remaining stiffly on his face.
"Why…" his voice caught in his throat, and a look of annoyance flushed his features as he swallowed hard. "I mean…why are you here…a nurse?"
"Oh that? That's a long story. Long and complicated and ending in the fact that my fiancée ran off with the Doctor. On the night before our wedding."
Ianto's eyebrow shot up, forming an expression that seemed absolutely right on his features. The action sent yet another wave of reassurance through Rory's heart. This man, whoever he was before, is definitely still in there somewhere.
"Oh…" Rory could tell his voice was struggling, scraping against the flesh of his windpipe as he tried to normalise his vocal cords. "We have…more in common…than you might think…"
"Really? Were you…?" he nodded towards the door. "I mean, you and he…?"
The smile fell from Ianto's face.
"No. No. I don't…no," Ianto's eyes began to scan the room wildly, finally settling on the door. "Is he…is he here…?"
"Yes," Rory felt his heart plummet. "I sent Amy - my fiancée - to get him. For when you woke up. Was that wrong? D'you want me to call them, I can stop him from coming if you'd rather he didn't."
Rory stood up and pulled his phone from his pocket, his fingers shaking as he hurriedly began to punch in Amy's number. As the digits began to appear on the screen in front of him, however, he heard a soft groaning from the bed. He turned quickly, his hand dropping to his side as he saw Ianto pulling himself up into a seated position. The pale-skinned arms trembled against the weight of his body, however thin he may now be; his muscles obviously protesting the movement after so long in such a confined space. His elbow buckled suddenly, plunging him back onto the mattress with a thump. Rory's nursing instinct kicked in once again, urging him to reach forward.
"No!" Ianto croaked, transferring his weight to his other arm as he hauled himself back up. Rory pulled away, his body tensed in readiness as he watched the young man struggle with his own muscles. Eventually, Ianto pulled himself backwards, resting his spine against the headboard of the bed so that his body was propped supportively.
"He sees me…" Ianto breathed, flexing the muscles of his arms experimentally and wincing as they cramped in response. "I'm not lying down."
Before Rory could open his mouth in response, there was a soft tapping on the door, and then a click as the handle was pulled down tentatively. The door squeaked softly on its hinges as it swung inwards, revealing the pale face of Amy. Rory smiled reassuringly at her as he nodded, encouraging her to move forward into the room. She smiled back, propping the door open to reveal the face of the man hovering uncomfortably on the threshold between the rooms, his body swaying and his eyes fixed on the figure between the sheets.
"Jack…"
x
x
Jack heard the voice resonating hoarsely through those accented vowels, the croaked sound sending a shiver through his veins. His body remained frozen in the doorway, one hand braced against the doorframe as he felt the blood in his body thicken, gluing him place like the cement that had encased him back when…well, back then.
Jack…
A finger poked into his back, forcing him into the room. He turned around, intent on glaring at the Doctor, but the man in question merely took a firm grip of his shoulders, forcing him to focus everything he had on the figure propped against the headboard.
Jack…
"Ianto…" he finally whispered, forcing a smile onto his face. He didn't really know what to say. A thousand words tumbled furiously in his brain, swirling wildly like a leaf caught in rapids, but he couldn't grip a single one; nothing would stick, other than those two vowels.
Ianto…Ianto…Ianto…
"Jack…" Ianto whispered again, his throat bobbing as he swallowed forcefully. "I have something I need to tell you…something important…"
Jack took another step forward, moving as close to Ianto as he dared.
"You do?"
Ianto nodded, his body as still as granite on the bed; but his eyes, those eyes that Jack hadn't realised he'd missed so much, were pleading with him to take another step, to come closer, to close that gap. But not too close - there was a warning there as well. His feet moved on a whim, obeying that simple instruction, until he was just a foot away from Ianto, craning to hear the strained words falling from his lips.
"I lied."
"What?" Jack could feel himself choking on his own words. "What do you mean?"
"It's pronounced Splott," Ianto leaned forward, his arms shaking ferociously with the weight of his body. "Not Sploe. I just wanted to see…the looks on your faces. I lied."
A tiny smile, almost manic in its suddenness, crossed his features.
Then his eyes closed, and he fell back gently onto the pillows.
TBC…
Chapter 13 | Masterlist | Chapter 15
Here is where I be cheeky and remind you that this fiction is nominated for two Children of Time Awards: in the "Angst" category and the "Slash" category. Information on voting can be found at my journal: HERE
Thank you once again for reading, and please feel free to share your comments regarding this chapter. Was the reunion (what we've seen so far) what you expected? Did it meet your expectations? Are you, like me, disappointed to learn that it really is pronounced "Splott"?
Thanks again!