Fic - Electric Sheep #8
Title: Electric Sheep (8/13)
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Jack, Ianto, Ianto, Owen
Summary: Jack has been back at Torchwood Three for a few months now. He was fine with that; until he began to uncover a pattern in what had seemed to be random, unconnected murders. The two Iantos' unplanned meeting and a bullet wound; could the night get any worse? Of course it could!
Previously...
Electric Sheep #8
"Ianto, no! Not the Perganon pyramid!" Jack made a desperate lunge forward, almost tripping over the debris from alien artefacts littering the floor.
"Then explain it!" Ianto held the small glowing pyramid aloft. "Tell me. How?"
"I've been trying to. Ianto, I have! But the truth of it is, we just don't know. Not yet. The hows, the whys." He took another step, more cautious now, non-threatening. If he looked halfway as wretched as he felt, Ianto had to believe him.
Ianto slowly lowered his arm, his angry, wild expression beginning to crumple. "I have photographs, Jack!"
Easy enough to acquire, Jack thought. Genuine photos lifted by Torchwood from the real Ianto's home, or even picked up from there by the one who had replaced him. "I know." Jack frowned, recalling the images of the carefree couple uploaded to this Ianto's work computer. There had been one placed by the side of Lisa's cyber-conversion unit too, along with the flowers. What a fucking twisted mess!
"I mean, how can I remember my first day at school, my first kiss, the smell of my grandmother's house… everything?"
Jack ran nervous, sweaty fingers through his hair. "I don't know for sure. We don't even know that you're the one…"
"Jack, please!"
"Alright. Best guess?" Jack reached out and carefully removed the pyramid from Ianto's hand, setting it on the nearest shelf. "Implanted memories" he said quietly. "Don't know if your memories are complete, identical to his. We'll have to run detailed checks on you both, make comparisons, but…" It would take time, would be a painful emotional process for both men, and part of Jack didn't even want to know.
"But how can I feel so much?" Ianto gulped. "Too much?"
"Because you're alive. Very much alive, Ianto." Jack closed the distance between them. "Look at me" he pleaded, gripping the other man's shoulders. "Look at me." Ianto raised tear-filled eyes, his face wearing that gut-wrenching look of absolute anguish that Jack had seen only once before and had fervently hoped never to see again. "I'm sorry, so sorry." Ianto's body shook as Jack hugged him to him. "Your feelings are as real, as deep, as his. As mine. As anyone's."
"But are they even mine? Aren't they his?"
"No, Ianto." Jack stroked his hair, kissed his brow. "Think of everything you've experienced since you've been here. All the conversations you've had. All the choices you've made. All the cases you've worked on, all the people, lifeforms, objects you've dealt with. Things he knows nothing about."
Ianto sagged against him, face contorted. "My life wasn't my own 'til I came here? Is that what you're saying?"
That must be how it sounded, and in truth it's how Jack was beginning to see it, but he hadn't meant it to come out that way. "Think of all the times… Think of every time we've been together. Your feelings, your responses.
"But you've shared all that with him too. Haven't you?" Ianto asked, voice muffled against Jack's shoulder.
"I won't deny it, we've shared something. But it isn't the same. Not the same." Ianto made a choking sound as Jack tried to reassure him. "Don't forget, I know about this stuff. Brothers and sisters, brothers and brothers. Been there, done that. Many times. Twins too" he added. Ianto laughed weakly, a laugh that was in danger of turning into a sob. "Always similarities, but never the same. Never the same. Trust me, Ianto. Trust yourself."
"I want to, Jack. I really want to."
"Then start by believing that I trust you." And even though it might hurt at first, I trust your twin too, Jack thought as they sank to the floor, rocking together in a tangle of limbs and emotions. "And we'll find a way through this. The three of us."
***
"You really didn't spot it before?" Ianto asked, sliding the black and white print back across the desk to Owen.
"All hell was breaking loose at the time" he reminded him, hugging his mug of steaming black coffee in both hands. "But now we've had the chance to take a proper look… Another andy, do you think?"
"A what?"
"Andy. Android. Robot. Whatever."
"I see" Ianto replied carefully, sidestepping Owen's original question. Part of him was forming a grudging respect for Owen's bluntness, and he did have reason to thank the man for the way he'd eased him through his examination and explanation of his injuries. But Ianto wasn't about to share his theories; at least, not with him. He would trust his twin, no matter how bizarre that might seem. And Jack. He had faith in Jack. Funny how you could find yourself entrusting your fate to a complete stranger after so many months of wariness and isolation. Hard to credit that he'd known him for, what? Barely twenty four hours?
But Owen was grumbling again, cutting through his thoughts. "Jack should have played this whole thing differently."
Ianto took a reflective sip of his coffee before responding. "How, exactly?"
Owen scowled. "Dunno. But he's the boss. Meant to think with his head not his plonker. Don't know what it is about you, but you've always been teacher's pet."
Ianto raised an eyebrow at that. Jealous, was he? "I think you mean him, not me."
"Yeah, right, sorry."
"You're being too hard on Jack. What else was he supposed to do?" Ianto flinched as yet another muffled thud reached them from below. The camera for the archives had been disabled, they couldn't make out voices, but the clashing and smashing sounds had been coming at alarmingly regular intervals. "Do you think they're okay?"
"Ianto's beating the living crap out of him, with any luck" Owen retorted, apparently unconcerned. "Great coffee, by the way. Something else you two have in common."
Ianto pursed his lips. "He got the looks and sense of style." And the months of shagging Jack. Not a bad deal, all things considered.
"I'm sure you'd scrub up pretty well, mate."
Rewind time less than eighteen months, and yes, he and his doppleganger would have been physically indistinguishable. "Hmm."
"Bet that scruffy vulnerable look gets the knickers tumbling down pretty fast, though, right? And anyway, you're the real thing."
"You can't be sure of that. Maybe I am, but what if he is? And what if we're both fakes?"
"Like your man here?" Owen gestured towards the print of the enhanced image that he'd pulled up from the CCTV footage. "Nope, not buying that. Can't handle the idea of any more of you running around. One was more than enough, come to think of it!"
"Thanks."
"No offence. But think about it. Why would Torchwood try to blow you up when they could just dismantle you?"
Ianto hung his head. He'd been having those same thoughts himself. And all those supposedly routine body scans, blood tests, and Christ knows what else besides that Torchwood One had run him through; well, he was beginning to see them for what they really had been, now. Twpsyn! What a complete and utter idiot he'd been!
"We don't even know what he was created to do" Owen was musing. "What warped mission he might have had programmed into him. And what if... shit! What if there's no off-switch, apart from a bullet through the brain?"
"That's a lot of what ifs."
"Yeah, but maybe the safest thing is to shut him down."
"It's not his fault" Ianto said quietly. What Torchwood had done to him, it revolted him, had made him sick to his stomach. But there was no getting away from it. The other Ianto was a part of him. And when it came right down to it, out of the two of them, he'd been the aimless one, the one who had lost his identity, had been numbed by grief and loss. The other one had been getting on with his life, doing something useful. Living. Loving. Fucking. Protecting people. Whereas he hadn't truly come alive again until he'd found his way into Roald Dahl Plass last night…
"Just saying, what if it comes to that?"
He really hadn't anticipated this; this sudden surge of fraternal protectiveness. Ianto exhaled slowly, fixing Owen with an uncompromising stare. "You try anything, I'll stop you" he promised. "And I'm an excellent shot."
Owen's hand drifted up to his left shoulder in an unconscious gesture. "I believe you. Lucky it's not my call, then."
"Jack would never do it" Ianto stated with conviction.
"No. Seen that for myself." Owen ignored the quizzical look Ianto gave him. Spilling the beans about the whole Lisa fiasco wasn't his call either. "But your pal outside would!"
***
"Yes, I do recognise him" Ianto was telling Jack as Owen leaned over the rail of the autopsy room. "We were friends once. A couple of beers now and again." He looked as if he had more to say, but one glance up at Owen silenced him.
Ianto had shed his suit jacket and tie, Jack had pulled up his braces, but the pair looked relatively unscathed. Must have been the archives themselves taking the pounding then, Owen decided. Oh well, that wasn't his concern. Two Iantos, four hands for the clean-up job. And Jack obviously had managed to talk his way out of another impossible situation, judging by the way Ianto was allowing him to rest his hand on his shoulder as they stood alongside the android body. Don't know how he bloody does it, Owen marvelled.
"Alright then" Jack sighed. "You've been through enough tonight. Come on."
Although Ianto allowed himself to be guided towards the stairs, he clearly had his own ideas about what he was going to do now. "I want to see him, Jack."
"He wants that too. But it can wait."
"No it can't." Ianto was determined.
"Okay" Jack relented. "But no pressure."
"No tests, no questions?"
"Not right now. Let's cut you both some slack, huh?"
"Fucking great" Owen muttered as Jack brushed past him. "No rest for the wicked though. And that's you and me Jack, incase you were wondering." Jack shot him a look, but didn't rise to the bait. "Ianto, you okay?" Owen felt bad for him, for them both really, but no way was this going to end well, as far as he could see.
Ianto didn't turn back, his eyes fixed on his damaged twin sitting at Owen's workstation. "What do you think, twllt din?"
"That wasn't very polite, was it?!" A barely suppressed snort from the other Ianto confirmed it. Owen followed, grabbing onto Jack's forearm, holding him back as the two Iantos eyed each other warily for a moment before nodding and moving towards Jack's office. "We're going to have to come up with another name for one of them. Make life easier. But Jack, there's something you need to see, and it's going to make things worse" he said, as the door closed behind them.
With an effort, Jack tore his gaze away from the other two men and followed Owen to his desk. "What is it?"
"The shooter. The guy who snagged you. How is that, by the way?" Owen asked, plucking at Jack's blood-stained sleeve.
Jack shrugged. "It's nothing."
"I'll clean you up, but you better take a look at this." He handed Jack the CCTV image of Dan Adams.
"Oh crap!" Jack groaned, slumping into Owen's chair.
"Craptastic, yeah."
On to #9
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Jack, Ianto, Ianto, Owen
Summary: Jack has been back at Torchwood Three for a few months now. He was fine with that; until he began to uncover a pattern in what had seemed to be random, unconnected murders. The two Iantos' unplanned meeting and a bullet wound; could the night get any worse? Of course it could!
Previously...
Electric Sheep #8
"Ianto, no! Not the Perganon pyramid!" Jack made a desperate lunge forward, almost tripping over the debris from alien artefacts littering the floor.
"Then explain it!" Ianto held the small glowing pyramid aloft. "Tell me. How?"
"I've been trying to. Ianto, I have! But the truth of it is, we just don't know. Not yet. The hows, the whys." He took another step, more cautious now, non-threatening. If he looked halfway as wretched as he felt, Ianto had to believe him.
Ianto slowly lowered his arm, his angry, wild expression beginning to crumple. "I have photographs, Jack!"
Easy enough to acquire, Jack thought. Genuine photos lifted by Torchwood from the real Ianto's home, or even picked up from there by the one who had replaced him. "I know." Jack frowned, recalling the images of the carefree couple uploaded to this Ianto's work computer. There had been one placed by the side of Lisa's cyber-conversion unit too, along with the flowers. What a fucking twisted mess!
"I mean, how can I remember my first day at school, my first kiss, the smell of my grandmother's house… everything?"
Jack ran nervous, sweaty fingers through his hair. "I don't know for sure. We don't even know that you're the one…"
"Jack, please!"
"Alright. Best guess?" Jack reached out and carefully removed the pyramid from Ianto's hand, setting it on the nearest shelf. "Implanted memories" he said quietly. "Don't know if your memories are complete, identical to his. We'll have to run detailed checks on you both, make comparisons, but…" It would take time, would be a painful emotional process for both men, and part of Jack didn't even want to know.
"But how can I feel so much?" Ianto gulped. "Too much?"
"Because you're alive. Very much alive, Ianto." Jack closed the distance between them. "Look at me" he pleaded, gripping the other man's shoulders. "Look at me." Ianto raised tear-filled eyes, his face wearing that gut-wrenching look of absolute anguish that Jack had seen only once before and had fervently hoped never to see again. "I'm sorry, so sorry." Ianto's body shook as Jack hugged him to him. "Your feelings are as real, as deep, as his. As mine. As anyone's."
"But are they even mine? Aren't they his?"
"No, Ianto." Jack stroked his hair, kissed his brow. "Think of everything you've experienced since you've been here. All the conversations you've had. All the choices you've made. All the cases you've worked on, all the people, lifeforms, objects you've dealt with. Things he knows nothing about."
Ianto sagged against him, face contorted. "My life wasn't my own 'til I came here? Is that what you're saying?"
That must be how it sounded, and in truth it's how Jack was beginning to see it, but he hadn't meant it to come out that way. "Think of all the times… Think of every time we've been together. Your feelings, your responses.
"But you've shared all that with him too. Haven't you?" Ianto asked, voice muffled against Jack's shoulder.
"I won't deny it, we've shared something. But it isn't the same. Not the same." Ianto made a choking sound as Jack tried to reassure him. "Don't forget, I know about this stuff. Brothers and sisters, brothers and brothers. Been there, done that. Many times. Twins too" he added. Ianto laughed weakly, a laugh that was in danger of turning into a sob. "Always similarities, but never the same. Never the same. Trust me, Ianto. Trust yourself."
"I want to, Jack. I really want to."
"Then start by believing that I trust you." And even though it might hurt at first, I trust your twin too, Jack thought as they sank to the floor, rocking together in a tangle of limbs and emotions. "And we'll find a way through this. The three of us."
***
"You really didn't spot it before?" Ianto asked, sliding the black and white print back across the desk to Owen.
"All hell was breaking loose at the time" he reminded him, hugging his mug of steaming black coffee in both hands. "But now we've had the chance to take a proper look… Another andy, do you think?"
"A what?"
"Andy. Android. Robot. Whatever."
"I see" Ianto replied carefully, sidestepping Owen's original question. Part of him was forming a grudging respect for Owen's bluntness, and he did have reason to thank the man for the way he'd eased him through his examination and explanation of his injuries. But Ianto wasn't about to share his theories; at least, not with him. He would trust his twin, no matter how bizarre that might seem. And Jack. He had faith in Jack. Funny how you could find yourself entrusting your fate to a complete stranger after so many months of wariness and isolation. Hard to credit that he'd known him for, what? Barely twenty four hours?
But Owen was grumbling again, cutting through his thoughts. "Jack should have played this whole thing differently."
Ianto took a reflective sip of his coffee before responding. "How, exactly?"
Owen scowled. "Dunno. But he's the boss. Meant to think with his head not his plonker. Don't know what it is about you, but you've always been teacher's pet."
Ianto raised an eyebrow at that. Jealous, was he? "I think you mean him, not me."
"Yeah, right, sorry."
"You're being too hard on Jack. What else was he supposed to do?" Ianto flinched as yet another muffled thud reached them from below. The camera for the archives had been disabled, they couldn't make out voices, but the clashing and smashing sounds had been coming at alarmingly regular intervals. "Do you think they're okay?"
"Ianto's beating the living crap out of him, with any luck" Owen retorted, apparently unconcerned. "Great coffee, by the way. Something else you two have in common."
Ianto pursed his lips. "He got the looks and sense of style." And the months of shagging Jack. Not a bad deal, all things considered.
"I'm sure you'd scrub up pretty well, mate."
Rewind time less than eighteen months, and yes, he and his doppleganger would have been physically indistinguishable. "Hmm."
"Bet that scruffy vulnerable look gets the knickers tumbling down pretty fast, though, right? And anyway, you're the real thing."
"You can't be sure of that. Maybe I am, but what if he is? And what if we're both fakes?"
"Like your man here?" Owen gestured towards the print of the enhanced image that he'd pulled up from the CCTV footage. "Nope, not buying that. Can't handle the idea of any more of you running around. One was more than enough, come to think of it!"
"Thanks."
"No offence. But think about it. Why would Torchwood try to blow you up when they could just dismantle you?"
Ianto hung his head. He'd been having those same thoughts himself. And all those supposedly routine body scans, blood tests, and Christ knows what else besides that Torchwood One had run him through; well, he was beginning to see them for what they really had been, now. Twpsyn! What a complete and utter idiot he'd been!
"We don't even know what he was created to do" Owen was musing. "What warped mission he might have had programmed into him. And what if... shit! What if there's no off-switch, apart from a bullet through the brain?"
"That's a lot of what ifs."
"Yeah, but maybe the safest thing is to shut him down."
"It's not his fault" Ianto said quietly. What Torchwood had done to him, it revolted him, had made him sick to his stomach. But there was no getting away from it. The other Ianto was a part of him. And when it came right down to it, out of the two of them, he'd been the aimless one, the one who had lost his identity, had been numbed by grief and loss. The other one had been getting on with his life, doing something useful. Living. Loving. Fucking. Protecting people. Whereas he hadn't truly come alive again until he'd found his way into Roald Dahl Plass last night…
"Just saying, what if it comes to that?"
He really hadn't anticipated this; this sudden surge of fraternal protectiveness. Ianto exhaled slowly, fixing Owen with an uncompromising stare. "You try anything, I'll stop you" he promised. "And I'm an excellent shot."
Owen's hand drifted up to his left shoulder in an unconscious gesture. "I believe you. Lucky it's not my call, then."
"Jack would never do it" Ianto stated with conviction.
"No. Seen that for myself." Owen ignored the quizzical look Ianto gave him. Spilling the beans about the whole Lisa fiasco wasn't his call either. "But your pal outside would!"
***
"Yes, I do recognise him" Ianto was telling Jack as Owen leaned over the rail of the autopsy room. "We were friends once. A couple of beers now and again." He looked as if he had more to say, but one glance up at Owen silenced him.
Ianto had shed his suit jacket and tie, Jack had pulled up his braces, but the pair looked relatively unscathed. Must have been the archives themselves taking the pounding then, Owen decided. Oh well, that wasn't his concern. Two Iantos, four hands for the clean-up job. And Jack obviously had managed to talk his way out of another impossible situation, judging by the way Ianto was allowing him to rest his hand on his shoulder as they stood alongside the android body. Don't know how he bloody does it, Owen marvelled.
"Alright then" Jack sighed. "You've been through enough tonight. Come on."
Although Ianto allowed himself to be guided towards the stairs, he clearly had his own ideas about what he was going to do now. "I want to see him, Jack."
"He wants that too. But it can wait."
"No it can't." Ianto was determined.
"Okay" Jack relented. "But no pressure."
"No tests, no questions?"
"Not right now. Let's cut you both some slack, huh?"
"Fucking great" Owen muttered as Jack brushed past him. "No rest for the wicked though. And that's you and me Jack, incase you were wondering." Jack shot him a look, but didn't rise to the bait. "Ianto, you okay?" Owen felt bad for him, for them both really, but no way was this going to end well, as far as he could see.
Ianto didn't turn back, his eyes fixed on his damaged twin sitting at Owen's workstation. "What do you think, twllt din?"
"That wasn't very polite, was it?!" A barely suppressed snort from the other Ianto confirmed it. Owen followed, grabbing onto Jack's forearm, holding him back as the two Iantos eyed each other warily for a moment before nodding and moving towards Jack's office. "We're going to have to come up with another name for one of them. Make life easier. But Jack, there's something you need to see, and it's going to make things worse" he said, as the door closed behind them.
With an effort, Jack tore his gaze away from the other two men and followed Owen to his desk. "What is it?"
"The shooter. The guy who snagged you. How is that, by the way?" Owen asked, plucking at Jack's blood-stained sleeve.
Jack shrugged. "It's nothing."
"I'll clean you up, but you better take a look at this." He handed Jack the CCTV image of Dan Adams.
"Oh crap!" Jack groaned, slumping into Owen's chair.
"Craptastic, yeah."
On to #9