When Reality Hits (Torchwood, PG)
When Reality Hits
“Yuck! That’s disgusting,” said Jack when he stopped at James Elton’s computer. The images on the screen seemed to show what was left of a human being. He sat down and started to go through them. Normally he was fine around these things but looking now at the mess that had been left behind made it a hard to stomach.
The photos had been taken that morning by James at the crime scene. There he had seemed to stomach it while being on a high which came from the bipolar. He had been excited from the weekend that he had spent with his partner Emmett Kingston, the WW2 pilot who had landed through the rift a few months ago, that he hadn’t noticed the mess. Right now he seemed to have disappeared from somewhere.
Jack looked around and spotted Gwen at her workstation.
“Gwen, where’s James?” He asked. Gwen looked up with a smile.
“Gone to the toilet,” Gwen replied, “Reality hit I’m afraid, poor thing.”
Jack nodded and made his way to the bathroom.
James Elton closed his eyes as the last of the spew splashed into the toilet. It had been awhile since he had thrown up after a crime scene or even the autopsy. He tried to clear his head of the images of those piercing grey eyes that send him here in the first place. The rest of the images followed of the blood, the black goo and the overall state the body was in. He ran a hand through his light brown hair.
What had gone wrong? Was it the depression part of the bipolar seeping through again? He had been in such a high this morning that maybe reality had finally hit him when looking through the photos. Though he wouldn’t be surprised if it was, sometimes this job could be tough.
Why was it that a Radiohead song was the first in his thoughts when he tried to calm himself down? Maybe it was the depressing lyrics or the soothing tones of Thom Yorke which calmed him down but what ever it was it didn’t seem to stop Creep from playing softly in his head. Followed by the touch of a man’s hands on his shoulders massaging the knots from his back. He knew it was all in his mind that he was imagining Emmett calming him down, whispering in his ear that everything was going to be alright.
“James, is everything alright in there?” Jack said outside the door, snapping him from his thoughts. James stood up and flushed the toilet.
“Yes, just felt a bit off,” James replied, exiting the toilet and washing his hands over at the sink. “I’m fine,” He added when he saw Jack’s face in the reflection of the mirror, “Really I am.”
“Alright but do me a favour and go out for fresh air,” Jack told him, “Your face is really pale.” He added as he left, closing the door behind him.
James watched him leave before looking back at the mirror. His pale face stared back at him causing tears to form in his eyes. How he wanted to be home right now in bed lying in the arms of his lover.
Ianto Jones was busy making coffee from his colleagues at the coffee machine. There was a cup of tea sitting on the tray waiting for the mugs of coffee to join it. The tea being for James, as it would help his stomach to settle down. Ianto knew about little things like that, especially the fact about dark chocolate being good for your serotonin levels.
He looked up to see Jack walking towards his office. A smile escaped from his lips when memories of the night before filled his mind. Another date at that Italian restaurant followed by a movie back at his flat, an old Mae West film Jack had hired. They had ended up sleeping on the couch as Ianto had woken up to discover Jack lying on top of him, still dressed in his blue shirt and black trousers before the phone call from James telling them about the body found down at the bay.
“Ianto, where’s James?” Martha Jones asked when she walked up from the autopsy area. Ianto stopped what he was doing and tuned around.
“Toilet I think,” He answered before noticing someone behind Martha, “No he’s behind you.”
Martha turned around to see James standing there, very pale with tears in his eyes. She wrapped her arms around him. It was strange to see him like this.
“Are you alright?” She asked very concerned.
“Yes, just feeling a bit queasy,” James replied, pulling back and wiping his tears. Ianto held out the cup of tea.
“Here this might help,” Ianto told him, “Peppermint tea, good for a sick stomach.”
James smiled, “Thanks Ianto, I really appreciate it.”
“Come on, I’m taking you for a walk,” Martha said with a smile, “Maybe we can round up Emmett and go out for lunch.”
“Yeah I’ll like that.” James replied before sipping his tea.