Fic: The Boy Is Gone 15/20
TITLE: The Boy Is Gone 15/20
AUTHOR: Erin Giles
DISCLAIMER: Torchwood and its characters are property of the BBC. The Family Jones is of my own creation.
RATING: PG-15
PAIRINGS/CHARACTERS: Jack/Ianto, Gwen/Rhys, OC's
SUMMARY: The Rift has never been the most stable influence in Ianto Jones’ life but when children in Cardiff start disappearing all over the city, Ianto’s family life crashes rather dramatically with Torchwood.
AUTHOR NOTES: This is the sequel to my stories, “Family Matters” and “A Nostalgic Yearning” and is the finale in the series “Footprints in the Sand”. It will not make sense unless you have read these. Set post Exit Wounds.
This chapter is for pinkfairy727 because it's her b'day! :) So you all have her to thank that this is up today and not Monday. Also I know it doesn't seem like much of an explanation for the boy since it's all very vague and airy fairy - but the more astute of you will probably be able to figure it out by all the hints I've been dropping both in this chapter and previous ones. If not - it will get spelled out for you when Ianto reveals what happened to him while he's been away!
| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14
Saturday 16th August 9.55pm
Jack’s footsteps resonated loudly down the hospital corridor. It was eerily silent this time of night as he strode purposefully away from the lifts towards Ianto’s room. He passed the silent nurses station that looked like Ianto had tided it. There wasn’t a piece of paper out of place, not even a mug or a pen. There was no staff nurse about and no cheery banter or laughter filled the air. Jack could hear himself breathing, short sharp breathes like he had been running for his life, his heart thundering in his chest as he turned into Ianto’s room.
The bed was made, crisp white sheets being pulled tightly across the bed as a nurse remade it. She was humming quietly to herself, a tune that sounded so hauntingly familiar to Jack’s ears. She smiled up at him as he entered the room, smoothing out the last of the wrinkles on the bed before picking up the vase of dead roses from the nightstand.
“Where’s Ianto?” Jack questioned, breath hitching in his throat as the nurse moved towards him, her smile never faltering as she filled his whole vision.
“He’s gone.”
Jack blinked and she was gone. The hospital room clinically empty as he took a step towards the hospital bed. The lights flickered overhead, drawing Jack’s attention, and when he looked back down Ianto was in the hospital bed. His pallor was unusually pale, stunting Jack’s relief somewhat as he took a hesitant step towards the bed.
“Ianto?”
Ianto was deathly still as Jack reached out a hand to him. His fingers brushed against flawless skin, all trace of bruising gone from his face that was icy to the touch.
“Ianto?” Jack called again, as if the sound of his own name would breathe life back into his corpse. For that was all Ianto was now, another dead body. Jack’s arms came round him, lifting him from the bed, tapping almost comically at his face to try and revive him. Ianto’s arms hung loose at his sides, flopping back onto the bed, joints stiff with rigor mortis.
“Ianto!”
There was desperation in Jack’s voice now as he hefted the dead weight of Ianto in his arms, pulling him closer to his chest, tears cascading down Jack’s cheeks and falling unchecked onto Ianto’s translucent eyelids. Jack’s lips pressed firmly against Ianto’s, but there was no life in them now, nothing to indicate to Jack that he was still of this world.
“Please.” Jack begged silently to a God he didn’t believe in as his fingers traced his own tears across Ianto’s slack face.
“He’s gone Jack. He’s not coming back.”
Jack’s head shot up at the voice, eyes wide with fear as he took in the sight of his brother. Startling blue eyes looked down at him in sorrow and sympathy, something almost akin to forgiveness.
“Gray?”
Jack sat bolt upright, scattering papers off his desk as he reached out blindly for some purchase on reality. His cheeks were wet with tears as he scrubbed a hand down his face. He let a shuddering sigh pass his lips as he reached out for his phone that was still resting on the end of the desk. He dialled without thinking, listening as a cheery Welsh voice greeted him on the other end of the line.
“Hello, It’s Jack Harkness here. I’m just calling to check on an Ianto Jones.”
He heard the hesitancy in his voice as he waited with bated breath. He almost let out a sigh of relief as he heard the words, ‘He’s asleep,’ drift back down the phone line to him. He wanted to ask the nurse to go and check, to just make sure that he was still breathing but he didn’t want to sound desperate or needy so he listened to the nurse telling him that Ianto had eaten dinner and drunk his coffee. Jack could picture Ianto mentally revolting at instant coffee but being too polite to actually say anything.
Jack heard a chocked sob pass his lips as he brought a hand to his mouth to try and stifle anymore that were forthcoming.
“Everything alright Mr. Harkness?” The nurse asked him down the phone.
“I’m fine.” Jack reassured, giving a watery smile that the nurse couldn’t see but hoped translated in his voice.
“Thanks for the update.”
Jack pressed the end call button on his phone, flipping it shut and resting his palms flat on his desk as he took in another shuddering breath.
“Can I go home now?”
Jack almost fell off his seat in shock. He turned sharply towards the little boy that was so suddenly stood at the door of his office, staring in at Jack with a wide-eyed innocent expression. Jack took a deep breath, trying to gather himself as the boy came further into the room, his eyes never wavering from Jack’s.
“You held up your part of the deal.” Jack replied before he was fumbling for bits of paper on his desk, clutching them tightly in a fist before he was pulling himself to his feet. Jack could hear his heart thundering in his chest as he crossed the room to the little boy, hesitantly holding out a hand to him.
“We need to go back to where you first appeared.” Jack encouraged when the little boy vacillated. Big sorrowful eyes looked up at Jack full of innocence, before he was grasping Jack’s hand in his.
Saturday 16th August 10.01pm
Rhiannon watched as her oldest child slept peacefully in her arms. His thumb was stuck in his mouth as his head lolled against Ria’s shoulder. She should have put him to bed hours ago but she couldn’t bear to move him from her arms, couldn’t bear losing him again. He clutched at the front of the jumper she had on. It was Ianto’s. She’d dug it out of the laundry basket and it had a heady scent of aftershave and sweat on it. It didn’t smell completely like Ianto, it smelt of Jack as well which suggested that the last time Ianto had worn it he’d spent the night Jack, or Jack had been wearing Ianto’s clothes. A year ago Rhiannon wouldn’t have thought that possible but the memory of Jack falling apart in the bathroom was still fresh in her mind and she realised quite suddenly for all Jack had put Ianto back together after everything, it was Ianto who now kept Jack from falling apart.
Finn’s hand clutched tighter to the jumper, his little nose snuffling the shoulder of the fabric. Rhiannon had seen Finn earlier on looking for something to cuddle, mildly regretting leaving Owen at the hospital to look after Ianto. Ria had been kind enough to go and dig Alf out of Ianto’s room. Finn had reluctantly taken him at first, almost unsure of the alien with the weird brown quiff. Rhiannon knew that Alf smelt bad, even though Ianto had washed him only recently. He’d never really recovered after Ianto had dropped him in the penguin enclosure at the zoo when he was four years old. But that hadn’t seemed to matter to Ianto.
Alf was now perched at the other end of the couch, blindly watching the television through his plastic eyes, probably taking in more of it than Ria was at this moment in time. Finn had been so careful with Alf, not dragging him around the house by the ear, like he so often did with Owen, but carefully carrying him with two arms and placing him out of harms way at every available opportunity. It was like he was scared Alf was going to break, maybe a reflection on how he felt about his Uncle at this moment in time. Ria didn’t blame him in all honesty. A few days ago she’d come so close to losing her family. Now though she had Finn back in her arms, her brother was back as well, falling apart that little bit more, and her new child fighting to stay in the world.
Ria pressed a shaky kiss to Finn’s forehead before she cooried down in the sofa, shoving her feet under Alf’s backside as she turned her attention back to Saturday night television, content to have something akin to normal for the moment.
Saturday 16th August 10.34pm
“Is this it?” Jack asked when the boy stopped in the centre of Bute Park. Jack recognised the tree, the remains of blue police tape attached to it, fluttering in the breeze. The little boy didn’t say anything, just nodded his head slightly before turning to regard Jack.
“Can I go home now?”
Jack regarded the boy for a long moment, before he was shaking his head almost in disbelief.
“Why did you do it?” Jack asked, a defeated tone to his voice that he wasn’t used to hearing. “Why did you take all those kids? Ianto?”
“I only wanted to go home, I didn’t mean for anyone to get hurt or lost.” The boy replied, tears shimmering in his eyes.
“He almost died!” Jack spat out, before the anger was subsiding as quickly as it came about. “He almost died.” Jack repeated, slower this time as if the words were finally sinking in, his own eyes sparkling with unshed tears.
“But, that wasn’t my fault.” The boy protested.
“How? How was that not your fault? If you hadn’t taken him, if you hadn’t lost him, if you hadn’t sent him back to that warehouse and the rift hadn’t imploded he wouldn’t be lying in hospital right now!” Jack spat back, anger flaring up in him again that refused to subside as he grabbed the boy by the arms, shaking him slightly.
“Everybody dies.” The boy spoke calmly, orbs of world-weary blue seeping into Jack’s very soul. “Apart from you Jack.”
Jack didn’t need reminding of this fact, it stared back at him with it’s open jaws every day, threatening and menacing him every time he closed his eyes.
“Everybody you know and love you will lose someday, whether to Torchwood or old age and you will always try to blame someone. Usually yourself. No one will ever stay with you. Your immortality is both a blessing and a curse.” The boy spoke frankly, pausing for dramatic emphasis.
“Apart from me Jack, you have to keep me alive.”
It took Jack a moment to realise it was his own voice speaking to him now, his own words coming out of the little boys mouth. He was staring into his own eyes that were suddenly so startlingly familiar. They stared back at him out of mirrors everyday looking old before their time.
“Who- who are you?” Jack gasped, stumbling backwards slightly, his hands releasing the boy as if burned by his very presence.
The boy gave a mischievous smile. “Just a boy.”
He stepped back away from Jack, a faint glow shimmering behind him that seemed to fill up all of Bute Park with it’s light.
“Wait! Where are you going? I thought you wanted to go home?” Jack pleaded. He needed to know more.
“I am home.” The boy smiled again before there was a bright flash of light and Jack was flung backwards into a nearby tree. His head connected dully with the bark of the tree before the light and the park were fading from his field of vision.
Jack’s phone was ringing when he came too. It was light now, dawn breaking through the gaps in the leaves of the trees as he blindly fished his phone out his pocket.
“Hello?” He said rather gruffly before Gwen was screeching down the phone at him.
“Where the hell have you been Jack? I’ve been going off my bloody nut trying to get a hold of you!”
Jack pulled himself into a sitting position so his back was leant against the tree. He wiped his hands on his already muddy trousers and cringed slightly when he thought of what Ianto would say.
“I was sending our guest home.” Jack supplied before he was hauling himself to his feet, using the tree for support. His head was throbbing where it had connected with the tree.
“Is he gone then?” Gwen asked, a hesitancy to her voice as Jack looked around him. There was no evidence of the previous nights encounter, no sign of the boy anywhere. Jack shoved a hand in his coat pocket, pulling out notes of Rift readings and a flyer for Cardiff Castle that had Ianto’s neat handwriting scrawled on it in black biro, ‘I fancy being a tourist instead of tourist information this weekend.’ Jack smiled.
“He’s home.”
“How do you know he got home okay?” Gwen was asking down the phone now as Jack emerged blearily onto the path heading out of Bute Park, ignoring the early morning dog walkers as he headed back to the SUV.
“I don’t” Jack sighed, crumpling the note up in his hand before shoving it back in his pocket. “I just have to hope.”
On to Part 16
AUTHOR: Erin Giles
DISCLAIMER: Torchwood and its characters are property of the BBC. The Family Jones is of my own creation.
RATING: PG-15
PAIRINGS/CHARACTERS: Jack/Ianto, Gwen/Rhys, OC's
SUMMARY: The Rift has never been the most stable influence in Ianto Jones’ life but when children in Cardiff start disappearing all over the city, Ianto’s family life crashes rather dramatically with Torchwood.
AUTHOR NOTES: This is the sequel to my stories, “Family Matters” and “A Nostalgic Yearning” and is the finale in the series “Footprints in the Sand”. It will not make sense unless you have read these. Set post Exit Wounds.
This chapter is for pinkfairy727 because it's her b'day! :) So you all have her to thank that this is up today and not Monday. Also I know it doesn't seem like much of an explanation for the boy since it's all very vague and airy fairy - but the more astute of you will probably be able to figure it out by all the hints I've been dropping both in this chapter and previous ones. If not - it will get spelled out for you when Ianto reveals what happened to him while he's been away!
| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14
Saturday 16th August 9.55pm
Jack’s footsteps resonated loudly down the hospital corridor. It was eerily silent this time of night as he strode purposefully away from the lifts towards Ianto’s room. He passed the silent nurses station that looked like Ianto had tided it. There wasn’t a piece of paper out of place, not even a mug or a pen. There was no staff nurse about and no cheery banter or laughter filled the air. Jack could hear himself breathing, short sharp breathes like he had been running for his life, his heart thundering in his chest as he turned into Ianto’s room.
The bed was made, crisp white sheets being pulled tightly across the bed as a nurse remade it. She was humming quietly to herself, a tune that sounded so hauntingly familiar to Jack’s ears. She smiled up at him as he entered the room, smoothing out the last of the wrinkles on the bed before picking up the vase of dead roses from the nightstand.
“Where’s Ianto?” Jack questioned, breath hitching in his throat as the nurse moved towards him, her smile never faltering as she filled his whole vision.
“He’s gone.”
Jack blinked and she was gone. The hospital room clinically empty as he took a step towards the hospital bed. The lights flickered overhead, drawing Jack’s attention, and when he looked back down Ianto was in the hospital bed. His pallor was unusually pale, stunting Jack’s relief somewhat as he took a hesitant step towards the bed.
“Ianto?”
Ianto was deathly still as Jack reached out a hand to him. His fingers brushed against flawless skin, all trace of bruising gone from his face that was icy to the touch.
“Ianto?” Jack called again, as if the sound of his own name would breathe life back into his corpse. For that was all Ianto was now, another dead body. Jack’s arms came round him, lifting him from the bed, tapping almost comically at his face to try and revive him. Ianto’s arms hung loose at his sides, flopping back onto the bed, joints stiff with rigor mortis.
“Ianto!”
There was desperation in Jack’s voice now as he hefted the dead weight of Ianto in his arms, pulling him closer to his chest, tears cascading down Jack’s cheeks and falling unchecked onto Ianto’s translucent eyelids. Jack’s lips pressed firmly against Ianto’s, but there was no life in them now, nothing to indicate to Jack that he was still of this world.
“Please.” Jack begged silently to a God he didn’t believe in as his fingers traced his own tears across Ianto’s slack face.
“He’s gone Jack. He’s not coming back.”
Jack’s head shot up at the voice, eyes wide with fear as he took in the sight of his brother. Startling blue eyes looked down at him in sorrow and sympathy, something almost akin to forgiveness.
“Gray?”
Jack sat bolt upright, scattering papers off his desk as he reached out blindly for some purchase on reality. His cheeks were wet with tears as he scrubbed a hand down his face. He let a shuddering sigh pass his lips as he reached out for his phone that was still resting on the end of the desk. He dialled without thinking, listening as a cheery Welsh voice greeted him on the other end of the line.
“Hello, It’s Jack Harkness here. I’m just calling to check on an Ianto Jones.”
He heard the hesitancy in his voice as he waited with bated breath. He almost let out a sigh of relief as he heard the words, ‘He’s asleep,’ drift back down the phone line to him. He wanted to ask the nurse to go and check, to just make sure that he was still breathing but he didn’t want to sound desperate or needy so he listened to the nurse telling him that Ianto had eaten dinner and drunk his coffee. Jack could picture Ianto mentally revolting at instant coffee but being too polite to actually say anything.
Jack heard a chocked sob pass his lips as he brought a hand to his mouth to try and stifle anymore that were forthcoming.
“Everything alright Mr. Harkness?” The nurse asked him down the phone.
“I’m fine.” Jack reassured, giving a watery smile that the nurse couldn’t see but hoped translated in his voice.
“Thanks for the update.”
Jack pressed the end call button on his phone, flipping it shut and resting his palms flat on his desk as he took in another shuddering breath.
“Can I go home now?”
Jack almost fell off his seat in shock. He turned sharply towards the little boy that was so suddenly stood at the door of his office, staring in at Jack with a wide-eyed innocent expression. Jack took a deep breath, trying to gather himself as the boy came further into the room, his eyes never wavering from Jack’s.
“You held up your part of the deal.” Jack replied before he was fumbling for bits of paper on his desk, clutching them tightly in a fist before he was pulling himself to his feet. Jack could hear his heart thundering in his chest as he crossed the room to the little boy, hesitantly holding out a hand to him.
“We need to go back to where you first appeared.” Jack encouraged when the little boy vacillated. Big sorrowful eyes looked up at Jack full of innocence, before he was grasping Jack’s hand in his.
Saturday 16th August 10.01pm
Rhiannon watched as her oldest child slept peacefully in her arms. His thumb was stuck in his mouth as his head lolled against Ria’s shoulder. She should have put him to bed hours ago but she couldn’t bear to move him from her arms, couldn’t bear losing him again. He clutched at the front of the jumper she had on. It was Ianto’s. She’d dug it out of the laundry basket and it had a heady scent of aftershave and sweat on it. It didn’t smell completely like Ianto, it smelt of Jack as well which suggested that the last time Ianto had worn it he’d spent the night Jack, or Jack had been wearing Ianto’s clothes. A year ago Rhiannon wouldn’t have thought that possible but the memory of Jack falling apart in the bathroom was still fresh in her mind and she realised quite suddenly for all Jack had put Ianto back together after everything, it was Ianto who now kept Jack from falling apart.
Finn’s hand clutched tighter to the jumper, his little nose snuffling the shoulder of the fabric. Rhiannon had seen Finn earlier on looking for something to cuddle, mildly regretting leaving Owen at the hospital to look after Ianto. Ria had been kind enough to go and dig Alf out of Ianto’s room. Finn had reluctantly taken him at first, almost unsure of the alien with the weird brown quiff. Rhiannon knew that Alf smelt bad, even though Ianto had washed him only recently. He’d never really recovered after Ianto had dropped him in the penguin enclosure at the zoo when he was four years old. But that hadn’t seemed to matter to Ianto.
Alf was now perched at the other end of the couch, blindly watching the television through his plastic eyes, probably taking in more of it than Ria was at this moment in time. Finn had been so careful with Alf, not dragging him around the house by the ear, like he so often did with Owen, but carefully carrying him with two arms and placing him out of harms way at every available opportunity. It was like he was scared Alf was going to break, maybe a reflection on how he felt about his Uncle at this moment in time. Ria didn’t blame him in all honesty. A few days ago she’d come so close to losing her family. Now though she had Finn back in her arms, her brother was back as well, falling apart that little bit more, and her new child fighting to stay in the world.
Ria pressed a shaky kiss to Finn’s forehead before she cooried down in the sofa, shoving her feet under Alf’s backside as she turned her attention back to Saturday night television, content to have something akin to normal for the moment.
Saturday 16th August 10.34pm
“Is this it?” Jack asked when the boy stopped in the centre of Bute Park. Jack recognised the tree, the remains of blue police tape attached to it, fluttering in the breeze. The little boy didn’t say anything, just nodded his head slightly before turning to regard Jack.
“Can I go home now?”
Jack regarded the boy for a long moment, before he was shaking his head almost in disbelief.
“Why did you do it?” Jack asked, a defeated tone to his voice that he wasn’t used to hearing. “Why did you take all those kids? Ianto?”
“I only wanted to go home, I didn’t mean for anyone to get hurt or lost.” The boy replied, tears shimmering in his eyes.
“He almost died!” Jack spat out, before the anger was subsiding as quickly as it came about. “He almost died.” Jack repeated, slower this time as if the words were finally sinking in, his own eyes sparkling with unshed tears.
“But, that wasn’t my fault.” The boy protested.
“How? How was that not your fault? If you hadn’t taken him, if you hadn’t lost him, if you hadn’t sent him back to that warehouse and the rift hadn’t imploded he wouldn’t be lying in hospital right now!” Jack spat back, anger flaring up in him again that refused to subside as he grabbed the boy by the arms, shaking him slightly.
“Everybody dies.” The boy spoke calmly, orbs of world-weary blue seeping into Jack’s very soul. “Apart from you Jack.”
Jack didn’t need reminding of this fact, it stared back at him with it’s open jaws every day, threatening and menacing him every time he closed his eyes.
“Everybody you know and love you will lose someday, whether to Torchwood or old age and you will always try to blame someone. Usually yourself. No one will ever stay with you. Your immortality is both a blessing and a curse.” The boy spoke frankly, pausing for dramatic emphasis.
“Apart from me Jack, you have to keep me alive.”
It took Jack a moment to realise it was his own voice speaking to him now, his own words coming out of the little boys mouth. He was staring into his own eyes that were suddenly so startlingly familiar. They stared back at him out of mirrors everyday looking old before their time.
“Who- who are you?” Jack gasped, stumbling backwards slightly, his hands releasing the boy as if burned by his very presence.
The boy gave a mischievous smile. “Just a boy.”
He stepped back away from Jack, a faint glow shimmering behind him that seemed to fill up all of Bute Park with it’s light.
“Wait! Where are you going? I thought you wanted to go home?” Jack pleaded. He needed to know more.
“I am home.” The boy smiled again before there was a bright flash of light and Jack was flung backwards into a nearby tree. His head connected dully with the bark of the tree before the light and the park were fading from his field of vision.
Jack’s phone was ringing when he came too. It was light now, dawn breaking through the gaps in the leaves of the trees as he blindly fished his phone out his pocket.
“Hello?” He said rather gruffly before Gwen was screeching down the phone at him.
“Where the hell have you been Jack? I’ve been going off my bloody nut trying to get a hold of you!”
Jack pulled himself into a sitting position so his back was leant against the tree. He wiped his hands on his already muddy trousers and cringed slightly when he thought of what Ianto would say.
“I was sending our guest home.” Jack supplied before he was hauling himself to his feet, using the tree for support. His head was throbbing where it had connected with the tree.
“Is he gone then?” Gwen asked, a hesitancy to her voice as Jack looked around him. There was no evidence of the previous nights encounter, no sign of the boy anywhere. Jack shoved a hand in his coat pocket, pulling out notes of Rift readings and a flyer for Cardiff Castle that had Ianto’s neat handwriting scrawled on it in black biro, ‘I fancy being a tourist instead of tourist information this weekend.’ Jack smiled.
“He’s home.”
“How do you know he got home okay?” Gwen was asking down the phone now as Jack emerged blearily onto the path heading out of Bute Park, ignoring the early morning dog walkers as he headed back to the SUV.
“I don’t” Jack sighed, crumpling the note up in his hand before shoving it back in his pocket. “I just have to hope.”
On to Part 16