Fic: To The Pain (8/41)
Title: To The Pain, Chapter 8
Rating: R
Warnings: Language, some violence
Spoilers: Season One thru End of Days (1x13) plus Adrift (2x11)
Disclaimer: Torchwood and all its wonderfulness belong to Russell T. Davies and the Mighty Beeb. Just goofin' around!
Summary: In which Ianto investigates a negative rift spike solo…
Notes: Sequel to Vizzini’s Rule; previous chapters of To The Pain can be found here. Thanks to my wonderful beta thrace_adams for all the support - any mistakes are mine!
To The Pain: Chapter Eight
Ianto pointed the SUV north and headed towards the red dot on the GPS. As he got closer to the coordinates, he realized the rift must have dropped whoever or whatever it returned right in the middle of the Cardiff Golf Club. He drove through Cyncoed, cursing his luck and wondering just how the hell he was supposed to get inside. He wasn’t exactly dressed for golf and he hadn’t mastered Jack’s ability to charm himself into any place he wanted.
His mobile buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out, glancing at the display before he answered. Jamie. Ianto groaned. He kept meaning to call Jamie back but something always distracted him. Plus, he really didn’t want to have to tell Jamie about Jack. He wasn’t sure if he was more likely to get a lecture or a sympathy visit, either way he wasn’t up for it. He let the phone buzz twice more before he decided not to answer and dropped the mobile into the pocket by the handbreak on the SUV. The quiet chime that signaled new voice mail rang out, but Ianto ignored it and focused on the task at hand.
He pulled over to the side of the road and looked more carefully at the map on the screen. If he was remembering the layout correctly, the red dot was blinking in a copse of trees near the 16th hole on the far west side of the course. He looked down at his navy suit and dress shoes and sighed. Can’t be helped, I guess. Hope the fence isn’t too high.
He parked along Gwern-rhuddi Road and walked casually to the fence that enclosed the golf course. Luckily it was more decorative than functional and he was able to vault over it with no fuss or muss. His arms felt a little shaky as he landed and he grimaced. Owen’s right, I’m falling apart. He shook off those thoughts and ducked into the trees as soon as he could. He took a moment to get his bearings, glancing down at his PDA to locate the red dot again. He heard some thrashing in the underbrush in the same vicinity as the dot and headed in that direction. He was still hoping for a rabbit or a fox, something easy.
He was disappointed.
Ianto stepped into a small clearing to find a man huddled against a large rock. He was dressed in rags, the tattered pieces of fabric revealing patches of burned and bleeding skin. Biting back his cry of dismay, Ianto stood still and waited for the man to notice him. He’d learned from previous experience that the last thing most of the rift victims wanted was someone rushing at them. The man cowered for a few minutes. He was shaking and crying and clutching at the rock like it was the only thing anchoring him to this world. He finally raised his head and saw Ianto.
The effect was instantaneous. The man screamed and began to dig at the ground beneath him.
Ianto took a step towards the man with his hands raised, palms forward in a classic non-threatening stance. “It’s alright,” he said softly. “I won’t hurt you. I won’t come any closer. I’m here to help.”
The man stopped digging and gaped at him. “English! You… y-y-you speak… English?”
“Yes,” Ianto said simply.
“W-w-w-where am I?” the man stuttered.
“You’re in Cardiff. The Golf Club, actually.”
The man burst into tears. Ianto was just able to make out the word ‘home’ between the dry, painful sobs that wracked the battered body. He crept forward as the man wept, moving slowly and keeping his hands in front of him. He was able to get close enough to touch the man and laid his hand gently on the least injured part of his shoulder. The man flinched but then clutched at Ianto’s hand. He cried for several minutes, the noisy sobs tapering off to silent tears and small shudders.
“You… y-y-y-you said you w-were here to h-h-elp?” the man finally stammered.
Ianto nodded and risked a gentle squeeze to the man’s shoulder.
“H-how d-did you know I’d b-b-b-be here?”
“That’s a little complicated,” Ianto hedged. “Let’s just say it’s part of my job.”
“Do y-you know what h-h-happened to me? W-wh-where I’ve been?”
Ianto grimaced and stepped back. He took a seat on a smaller rock near the man. “In theory. You sort of… fell through a crack in space and time.”
The man snorted, the sarcastic noise sounding bizarrely normal. “In Cardiff?”
Ianto nodded. “Are you - I mean, I can see that you’re injured. I have a place I can take you, they’ll take care of you, get you cleaned up, tend to your wounds.”
“And then I can go h-home?” the man asked hopefully.
“Ahhh…” This was unprecedented. He’d never encountered a rift victim that was this lucid, this calm. He had no idea if going home was even possible.
“You s-s-said you w-w-were here to h-help me.”
“I am, I promise I am,” Ianto soothed. “What’s your name?”
“Jack,” the man said.
Ianto closed his eyes for a brief moment. Of course it is, he thought bitterly and then tried to smile. “Jack, I’m Ianto.”
The man snorted again. “You Welsh and your f-funny names.”
“Where are you from, Jack?”
“M-M-M-M-Michigan. M-married a Welsh g-g-girl and f-f-followed h-her here.”
“Does she have a funny name, too?” Ianto asked in a teasing voice. He glanced surreptitiously at his watch. The sun would be going down in about half an hour. They needed to get to Flat Holm soon.
Jack shook his head and a ghost of a smile crossed his face. “N-no. Pretty w-w-one. Rhosyn.”
“That is pretty. Jack, how long ago did you… well, get taken away?”
“F-feels like fore-e-ever b-b-but it can’t b-be more th-th-than a month or s-so. What d-day is it?”
“It’s March 23rd,” Ianto replied.
The man gaped at him. “L-longer than a m-m-month then. It was August. Th-the g-games were about to s-start.”
Ianto cocked his head. “Games?” he asked curiously.
“Ol-Ol-Olm-” Jack shook his head in frustration and breathed heavily through his nose. He tried again. “In L-London. Games.”
Ianto felt his blood run cold. “You mean the Olympic Games?”
Jack nodded.
Shit. “You disappeared in August in… 2012?”
Jack nodded again.
Shitshitshit. What do I do? He tried to keep his face an impassive mask, but Jack must have noticed something. He stood up suddenly and stared down at Ianto. “W-what is it?”
Ianto sighed and stood up as well. “Let’s just get you somewhere more comfortable and then we’ll talk, okay?”
“No.” The word was definite, the tone firm but Ianto could see real fear in Jack’s eyes. “I was dragged t-t-to a place I c-c-could never im-m-m-agine. Saw m-monsters th-th-that c-can’t be real. They… did th-things. They m-made me d-d-do things. Saw the sky and the s-s-sea in f-f-flames as the world b-burned around me. Tell me. Now.”
“I can’t take you home,” Ianto said quietly. He didn’t know what his Jack would do in this situation, he only knew that he owed this man the truth. “Not yet.”
“W-w-why?”
“Because when you came back, you didn’t come back to your time. I’m sorry, I’m not saying this right,” Ianto apologized. “It’s not 2012 now.”
“W-w-w-w-w-” Jack seemed to be panicking, his stutter getting worse.
Ianto stepped forward. “Please, let me get you someplace safe.”
“No!” Jack clutched at Ianto’s arms. “T-tell me!”
“It’s 2007,” Ianto whispered miserably. “I can’t take you home because you haven’t even disappeared yet.”
Jack just stared at him for a long, unbearable moment. Ianto’s mind was racing. He can stay at Flat Holm until he disappears and then go home. Or, or we could freeze him like Tommy and keep him in stasis until it’s safe. Or -
The right hook took him by surprise and he dropped like a stone.
When his head stopped spinning, Ianto was alone in the clearing. He got to his feet and listened. There! He heard the angry squeal of brakes and a car horn sounded, followed by another. He was running towards the noise before he’d made up his mind what to do next.
Ianto dodged the cars that were just starting to move again in the intersection and ran flat-out, hoping like hell he was actually following Jack. He pounded through the quiet residential streets, taking heart when he saw an upturned tricycle and a gaping hole in a waist-high hedge. He pushed through to the other side and took a quick second to listen again. Where the hell is he going? Ianto thought as he caught the sound of footfalls again. He took off at a jog, listening and running at the same time. That was Black Oak Road. The only thing past here is more houses and -
“Oh, God,” Ianto exclaimed and put on a burst of speed.
He finally saw Jack, standing by the water lapping quietly at the edge of Llanishen Reservoir.
“Jack! Stop!” he called out.
“Don’t c-c-come any c-closer!” Jack yelled.
Ianto pulled up and walked slowly towards Jack, hands in front of him again. “I won’t,” he said calmly as he did just that. “I just want to talk to you.”
“N-n-n-nothing to talk ab-b-bout,” Jack cried.
“Come on, Jack. I told you I was here to help. I can still do that. We’ll figure this out.”
“No! Y-you s-s-said I c-can’t go home. N-not see Rhosyn again.”
Ianto paled but tried again. “I didn’t say that. I promise, we’ll find a way to get you home.”
Jack shook his head, tears pouring down his face. “No time,” he whispered raggedly.
“What do you mean?”
“Th-th-they did th-things to me. K-k-killed me. Just w-wanted to g-g-get home to d-die.”
“Jack, please! There are doctors who can help. Just come with me.”
“I am a d-d-doctor or… I w-was bef-f-fore them. No t-time.”
Jack turned and looked at Ianto. The corner of his mouth lifted in a heartbreaking parody of a smile and then he jumped.
“NO!” Ianto scrambled over the fence and ran to the edge. Without a second’s hesitation he dove in.
The frigid water closed around him, stealing his breath. He kicked for the surface and gasped for air. He looked frantically around as he treaded water. There! He dove again, chasing the trail of bubbles he’d seen. He swam with his eyes shut against the muddy, darkened water and reached out, sweeping in front of him with his arms. His lungs were screaming for oxygen again but he ignored them, diving deeper, searching for Jack.
Instinct finally took control of his body and he shot to the surface, panting for air and wheezing from the cold. He took a deep breath and dove down again even though his mind knew that Jack was lost.
After another ten minutes of fruitless diving, Ianto finally gave up the search and tried to drag himself out of the water. He collapsed on the bank, his legs still trailing in the water. He lay there for some time, breathing hard, shivering, calling himself names in every language he knew for failing so completely.
The sun had dropped below the horizon and the air grew steadily colder around him. His shivering stopped and he realized he couldn’t feel his hands, his feet, the ground beneath his cheek. Ianto knew he had to move soon, knew it was only a matter of time before the cold would take him.
He wished he had it in him to care.
TBC in Chapter Nine
Rating: R
Warnings: Language, some violence
Spoilers: Season One thru End of Days (1x13) plus Adrift (2x11)
Disclaimer: Torchwood and all its wonderfulness belong to Russell T. Davies and the Mighty Beeb. Just goofin' around!
Summary: In which Ianto investigates a negative rift spike solo…
Notes: Sequel to Vizzini’s Rule; previous chapters of To The Pain can be found here. Thanks to my wonderful beta thrace_adams for all the support - any mistakes are mine!
To The Pain: Chapter Eight
Ianto pointed the SUV north and headed towards the red dot on the GPS. As he got closer to the coordinates, he realized the rift must have dropped whoever or whatever it returned right in the middle of the Cardiff Golf Club. He drove through Cyncoed, cursing his luck and wondering just how the hell he was supposed to get inside. He wasn’t exactly dressed for golf and he hadn’t mastered Jack’s ability to charm himself into any place he wanted.
His mobile buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out, glancing at the display before he answered. Jamie. Ianto groaned. He kept meaning to call Jamie back but something always distracted him. Plus, he really didn’t want to have to tell Jamie about Jack. He wasn’t sure if he was more likely to get a lecture or a sympathy visit, either way he wasn’t up for it. He let the phone buzz twice more before he decided not to answer and dropped the mobile into the pocket by the handbreak on the SUV. The quiet chime that signaled new voice mail rang out, but Ianto ignored it and focused on the task at hand.
He pulled over to the side of the road and looked more carefully at the map on the screen. If he was remembering the layout correctly, the red dot was blinking in a copse of trees near the 16th hole on the far west side of the course. He looked down at his navy suit and dress shoes and sighed. Can’t be helped, I guess. Hope the fence isn’t too high.
He parked along Gwern-rhuddi Road and walked casually to the fence that enclosed the golf course. Luckily it was more decorative than functional and he was able to vault over it with no fuss or muss. His arms felt a little shaky as he landed and he grimaced. Owen’s right, I’m falling apart. He shook off those thoughts and ducked into the trees as soon as he could. He took a moment to get his bearings, glancing down at his PDA to locate the red dot again. He heard some thrashing in the underbrush in the same vicinity as the dot and headed in that direction. He was still hoping for a rabbit or a fox, something easy.
He was disappointed.
Ianto stepped into a small clearing to find a man huddled against a large rock. He was dressed in rags, the tattered pieces of fabric revealing patches of burned and bleeding skin. Biting back his cry of dismay, Ianto stood still and waited for the man to notice him. He’d learned from previous experience that the last thing most of the rift victims wanted was someone rushing at them. The man cowered for a few minutes. He was shaking and crying and clutching at the rock like it was the only thing anchoring him to this world. He finally raised his head and saw Ianto.
The effect was instantaneous. The man screamed and began to dig at the ground beneath him.
Ianto took a step towards the man with his hands raised, palms forward in a classic non-threatening stance. “It’s alright,” he said softly. “I won’t hurt you. I won’t come any closer. I’m here to help.”
The man stopped digging and gaped at him. “English! You… y-y-you speak… English?”
“Yes,” Ianto said simply.
“W-w-w-where am I?” the man stuttered.
“You’re in Cardiff. The Golf Club, actually.”
The man burst into tears. Ianto was just able to make out the word ‘home’ between the dry, painful sobs that wracked the battered body. He crept forward as the man wept, moving slowly and keeping his hands in front of him. He was able to get close enough to touch the man and laid his hand gently on the least injured part of his shoulder. The man flinched but then clutched at Ianto’s hand. He cried for several minutes, the noisy sobs tapering off to silent tears and small shudders.
“You… y-y-y-you said you w-were here to h-h-elp?” the man finally stammered.
Ianto nodded and risked a gentle squeeze to the man’s shoulder.
“H-how d-did you know I’d b-b-b-be here?”
“That’s a little complicated,” Ianto hedged. “Let’s just say it’s part of my job.”
“Do y-you know what h-h-happened to me? W-wh-where I’ve been?”
Ianto grimaced and stepped back. He took a seat on a smaller rock near the man. “In theory. You sort of… fell through a crack in space and time.”
The man snorted, the sarcastic noise sounding bizarrely normal. “In Cardiff?”
Ianto nodded. “Are you - I mean, I can see that you’re injured. I have a place I can take you, they’ll take care of you, get you cleaned up, tend to your wounds.”
“And then I can go h-home?” the man asked hopefully.
“Ahhh…” This was unprecedented. He’d never encountered a rift victim that was this lucid, this calm. He had no idea if going home was even possible.
“You s-s-said you w-w-were here to h-help me.”
“I am, I promise I am,” Ianto soothed. “What’s your name?”
“Jack,” the man said.
Ianto closed his eyes for a brief moment. Of course it is, he thought bitterly and then tried to smile. “Jack, I’m Ianto.”
The man snorted again. “You Welsh and your f-funny names.”
“Where are you from, Jack?”
“M-M-M-M-Michigan. M-married a Welsh g-g-girl and f-f-followed h-her here.”
“Does she have a funny name, too?” Ianto asked in a teasing voice. He glanced surreptitiously at his watch. The sun would be going down in about half an hour. They needed to get to Flat Holm soon.
Jack shook his head and a ghost of a smile crossed his face. “N-no. Pretty w-w-one. Rhosyn.”
“That is pretty. Jack, how long ago did you… well, get taken away?”
“F-feels like fore-e-ever b-b-but it can’t b-be more th-th-than a month or s-so. What d-day is it?”
“It’s March 23rd,” Ianto replied.
The man gaped at him. “L-longer than a m-m-month then. It was August. Th-the g-games were about to s-start.”
Ianto cocked his head. “Games?” he asked curiously.
“Ol-Ol-Olm-” Jack shook his head in frustration and breathed heavily through his nose. He tried again. “In L-London. Games.”
Ianto felt his blood run cold. “You mean the Olympic Games?”
Jack nodded.
Shit. “You disappeared in August in… 2012?”
Jack nodded again.
Shitshitshit. What do I do? He tried to keep his face an impassive mask, but Jack must have noticed something. He stood up suddenly and stared down at Ianto. “W-what is it?”
Ianto sighed and stood up as well. “Let’s just get you somewhere more comfortable and then we’ll talk, okay?”
“No.” The word was definite, the tone firm but Ianto could see real fear in Jack’s eyes. “I was dragged t-t-to a place I c-c-could never im-m-m-agine. Saw m-monsters th-th-that c-can’t be real. They… did th-things. They m-made me d-d-do things. Saw the sky and the s-s-sea in f-f-flames as the world b-burned around me. Tell me. Now.”
“I can’t take you home,” Ianto said quietly. He didn’t know what his Jack would do in this situation, he only knew that he owed this man the truth. “Not yet.”
“W-w-why?”
“Because when you came back, you didn’t come back to your time. I’m sorry, I’m not saying this right,” Ianto apologized. “It’s not 2012 now.”
“W-w-w-w-w-” Jack seemed to be panicking, his stutter getting worse.
Ianto stepped forward. “Please, let me get you someplace safe.”
“No!” Jack clutched at Ianto’s arms. “T-tell me!”
“It’s 2007,” Ianto whispered miserably. “I can’t take you home because you haven’t even disappeared yet.”
Jack just stared at him for a long, unbearable moment. Ianto’s mind was racing. He can stay at Flat Holm until he disappears and then go home. Or, or we could freeze him like Tommy and keep him in stasis until it’s safe. Or -
The right hook took him by surprise and he dropped like a stone.
When his head stopped spinning, Ianto was alone in the clearing. He got to his feet and listened. There! He heard the angry squeal of brakes and a car horn sounded, followed by another. He was running towards the noise before he’d made up his mind what to do next.
Ianto dodged the cars that were just starting to move again in the intersection and ran flat-out, hoping like hell he was actually following Jack. He pounded through the quiet residential streets, taking heart when he saw an upturned tricycle and a gaping hole in a waist-high hedge. He pushed through to the other side and took a quick second to listen again. Where the hell is he going? Ianto thought as he caught the sound of footfalls again. He took off at a jog, listening and running at the same time. That was Black Oak Road. The only thing past here is more houses and -
“Oh, God,” Ianto exclaimed and put on a burst of speed.
He finally saw Jack, standing by the water lapping quietly at the edge of Llanishen Reservoir.
“Jack! Stop!” he called out.
“Don’t c-c-come any c-closer!” Jack yelled.
Ianto pulled up and walked slowly towards Jack, hands in front of him again. “I won’t,” he said calmly as he did just that. “I just want to talk to you.”
“N-n-n-nothing to talk ab-b-bout,” Jack cried.
“Come on, Jack. I told you I was here to help. I can still do that. We’ll figure this out.”
“No! Y-you s-s-said I c-can’t go home. N-not see Rhosyn again.”
Ianto paled but tried again. “I didn’t say that. I promise, we’ll find a way to get you home.”
Jack shook his head, tears pouring down his face. “No time,” he whispered raggedly.
“What do you mean?”
“Th-th-they did th-things to me. K-k-killed me. Just w-wanted to g-g-get home to d-die.”
“Jack, please! There are doctors who can help. Just come with me.”
“I am a d-d-doctor or… I w-was bef-f-fore them. No t-time.”
Jack turned and looked at Ianto. The corner of his mouth lifted in a heartbreaking parody of a smile and then he jumped.
“NO!” Ianto scrambled over the fence and ran to the edge. Without a second’s hesitation he dove in.
The frigid water closed around him, stealing his breath. He kicked for the surface and gasped for air. He looked frantically around as he treaded water. There! He dove again, chasing the trail of bubbles he’d seen. He swam with his eyes shut against the muddy, darkened water and reached out, sweeping in front of him with his arms. His lungs were screaming for oxygen again but he ignored them, diving deeper, searching for Jack.
Instinct finally took control of his body and he shot to the surface, panting for air and wheezing from the cold. He took a deep breath and dove down again even though his mind knew that Jack was lost.
After another ten minutes of fruitless diving, Ianto finally gave up the search and tried to drag himself out of the water. He collapsed on the bank, his legs still trailing in the water. He lay there for some time, breathing hard, shivering, calling himself names in every language he knew for failing so completely.
The sun had dropped below the horizon and the air grew steadily colder around him. His shivering stopped and he realized he couldn’t feel his hands, his feet, the ground beneath his cheek. Ianto knew he had to move soon, knew it was only a matter of time before the cold would take him.
He wished he had it in him to care.
TBC in Chapter Nine