Memories 13/14
Title/Series Info: Memories
Pairing: Hints of Jack/Ianto
Rating/Warning: Rated T for the usual Torchwood antics
Summary: Ianto Jones wakes up in hospital with no memory of how he got there. Who are the Agniton? What do they want with Jack? It’s up to Torchwood to find out and prevent any more deaths occurring… Janto pairing. Pre-COE.
Disclaimer: No matter how much of Ianto's coffee I drink, I still don't own Torchwood
A/N: I give you... the penultimate chapter! :)
CHAPTER 13
Gwen’s eyes widened as several long fingers curled around her neck, the exerted pressure cutting into her throat and making it increasingly difficult to breathe. She could feel the warm blood trickling from the wounds as she desperately tried to suck in air. Jack and Ianto looked on in horror as the Agniton effortlessly hauled their struggling colleague from the ground and flung her like a discarded rag doll towards the steps of the Autopsy Room. With a sickening crunch, Gwen hit the cold concrete floor and tumbled down the stairs, landing in a crumpled heap at its base.
Seeing the blood-stained trail she had left in her wake, Jack felt as though his heart had splintered into a thousand pieces. He was reminded of that ill-fated day, the one where Tosh, shot and bleeding on the Autopsy Room floor, had died in his arms. Ianto had cleaned the room several times over, but the horrific image remained etched into the concrete - and their minds - forever more. Jack couldn’t loose Gwen too…
He, however, was in no state to aid her; the metal pipe had bent on impact, hooking itself dangerously around his vital organs. The Captain winced at the intolerable pain surging through his chest, his consciousness slowly draining as the blood continued to pour from the gaping wound and stain his shirt a familiar ruby-red. Sometimes death would come instantly, but in other cases it cruelly liked to take its time. Jack felt as though it was a form of sadistic torture, a punishment for his immortality and unnatural - no, impossible - existence. Admittedly, he often saw his ‘talent’ as a gift, but if he could trade it to save the life of another, he would not hesitate to comply.
From his hidden position, Ianto helplessly called out to Gwen, but received no response. Please let her be all ok, he pleaded mentally.
The female human is of no importance. Her knowledge is of no great significance to us. Nevertheless, we may choose to feed from her in due course…
“Don’t you dare!” Ianto’s head burst with pain as the voice floated in and amongst his thoughts. He tried to focus his mind and force the Agniton out, though his resistance was too weak when matched with the superior strength of the aliens’ telepathy.
Such courage you show. And such vast knowledge you possess of this city, as well as to the workings of the ‘Rift’. You would be an interesting source. We shall start with you, human, consequently followed by your Captain…
Ianto turned and ran; it was no use hiding anymore. He sprinted between the work stations and towards the Autopsy Room, dodging the debris scattered across the floor and cursing loudly as his gun slipped and clattered to the floor. He couldn’t stop to retrieve it; the Agniton were in hot pursuit. Flinging himself at the handrail, Ianto held on tightly as he leant forward, worried about how he would find Gwen. Bracing himself, he peered over and saw that she had not moved; but the soft rise and fall of her chest told him that she was still alive. Ianto let out a sigh of relief and glanced over at Jack, impaled and bleeding, barely holding on to consciousness. As he turned back to look for a suitable weapon, one of the Agniton Scouts materialised in front of him, whilst the other appeared from behind a few moments later.
The tendrils were uncoiled from their outstretched arms.
Ianto was cornered with nowhere to run and nowhere to hide - completely defenceless and vulnerable. Yet, his courage returned and he stood defiant. If he was going to die, then at least he would take it full on.
On seeing the change in position, Jack shakily drew the Webley from the holster on his belt; his cold, sweaty palms making it difficult to steady. He would not let those bastards hurt anyone else. The blackness was drawing in around his eyesight as a blood-curdling scream echoed from the far end of the Hub.
Ianto. His Ianto. Jack was full of anger and hatred; he knew that the Agniton were inflicting ineffable amounts of pain, and that there wasn’t much time. He took a deep breath and focused his aim on the necks of the Scouts - it was a long shot, and if it was slightly off, Ianto would be killed instantly. Gathering strength and yelling loudly, Jack pumped three consecutive bullets into each pulsing nuclei.
He didn’t see what happened next. His head lolled forward as the darkness enveloped around him; his only thoughts being of Ianto...
Pairing: Hints of Jack/Ianto
Rating/Warning: Rated T for the usual Torchwood antics
Summary: Ianto Jones wakes up in hospital with no memory of how he got there. Who are the Agniton? What do they want with Jack? It’s up to Torchwood to find out and prevent any more deaths occurring… Janto pairing. Pre-COE.
Disclaimer: No matter how much of Ianto's coffee I drink, I still don't own Torchwood
A/N: I give you... the penultimate chapter! :)
CHAPTER 13
Gwen’s eyes widened as several long fingers curled around her neck, the exerted pressure cutting into her throat and making it increasingly difficult to breathe. She could feel the warm blood trickling from the wounds as she desperately tried to suck in air. Jack and Ianto looked on in horror as the Agniton effortlessly hauled their struggling colleague from the ground and flung her like a discarded rag doll towards the steps of the Autopsy Room. With a sickening crunch, Gwen hit the cold concrete floor and tumbled down the stairs, landing in a crumpled heap at its base.
Seeing the blood-stained trail she had left in her wake, Jack felt as though his heart had splintered into a thousand pieces. He was reminded of that ill-fated day, the one where Tosh, shot and bleeding on the Autopsy Room floor, had died in his arms. Ianto had cleaned the room several times over, but the horrific image remained etched into the concrete - and their minds - forever more. Jack couldn’t loose Gwen too…
He, however, was in no state to aid her; the metal pipe had bent on impact, hooking itself dangerously around his vital organs. The Captain winced at the intolerable pain surging through his chest, his consciousness slowly draining as the blood continued to pour from the gaping wound and stain his shirt a familiar ruby-red. Sometimes death would come instantly, but in other cases it cruelly liked to take its time. Jack felt as though it was a form of sadistic torture, a punishment for his immortality and unnatural - no, impossible - existence. Admittedly, he often saw his ‘talent’ as a gift, but if he could trade it to save the life of another, he would not hesitate to comply.
From his hidden position, Ianto helplessly called out to Gwen, but received no response. Please let her be all ok, he pleaded mentally.
The female human is of no importance. Her knowledge is of no great significance to us. Nevertheless, we may choose to feed from her in due course…
“Don’t you dare!” Ianto’s head burst with pain as the voice floated in and amongst his thoughts. He tried to focus his mind and force the Agniton out, though his resistance was too weak when matched with the superior strength of the aliens’ telepathy.
Such courage you show. And such vast knowledge you possess of this city, as well as to the workings of the ‘Rift’. You would be an interesting source. We shall start with you, human, consequently followed by your Captain…
Ianto turned and ran; it was no use hiding anymore. He sprinted between the work stations and towards the Autopsy Room, dodging the debris scattered across the floor and cursing loudly as his gun slipped and clattered to the floor. He couldn’t stop to retrieve it; the Agniton were in hot pursuit. Flinging himself at the handrail, Ianto held on tightly as he leant forward, worried about how he would find Gwen. Bracing himself, he peered over and saw that she had not moved; but the soft rise and fall of her chest told him that she was still alive. Ianto let out a sigh of relief and glanced over at Jack, impaled and bleeding, barely holding on to consciousness. As he turned back to look for a suitable weapon, one of the Agniton Scouts materialised in front of him, whilst the other appeared from behind a few moments later.
The tendrils were uncoiled from their outstretched arms.
Ianto was cornered with nowhere to run and nowhere to hide - completely defenceless and vulnerable. Yet, his courage returned and he stood defiant. If he was going to die, then at least he would take it full on.
On seeing the change in position, Jack shakily drew the Webley from the holster on his belt; his cold, sweaty palms making it difficult to steady. He would not let those bastards hurt anyone else. The blackness was drawing in around his eyesight as a blood-curdling scream echoed from the far end of the Hub.
Ianto. His Ianto. Jack was full of anger and hatred; he knew that the Agniton were inflicting ineffable amounts of pain, and that there wasn’t much time. He took a deep breath and focused his aim on the necks of the Scouts - it was a long shot, and if it was slightly off, Ianto would be killed instantly. Gathering strength and yelling loudly, Jack pumped three consecutive bullets into each pulsing nuclei.
He didn’t see what happened next. His head lolled forward as the darkness enveloped around him; his only thoughts being of Ianto...