Fic: The Oncoming Storm (Slash, AU, Janto 12/40)
Author: d8rkmessngr
Pairing: Jack/OMC, Jack/?, Jack/Ianto eventually, het and slash
Rating: NC-17 (betaed)
Summary: He left Jack on the game station. Abandoned. But then…he came back…different. An AU look on what happens if things happened differently. Doctor Who 'verse with Torchwood later on. Be sure to read the warnings.
Warnings: Please read each chapter's individual warnings. Some parts down the road may briefly mention non-con, abuse, and/or violence. Dark in the beginning. Please note there are some dark thoughts as my boys are broken…for now. Each chapter will be labeled for your convenience.
Author's Notes: Please note this is an AU that will cross over DW to TW season one. I'm probably spoiling my own story, but it will eventually be Janto. There's a bit of a journey first. I hope you enjoy. I'm working on this and intend to post regularly every other day. And again, I always believe in happy endings. So without further ado…
Disclaimer: RTD and BBC owns them. I'm just borrowing them for a while.
Warning For This Chapter: mentions past non-con/dubious consent, minor (very minor) het, verbal and mental abuse.
Prologue + Ch , Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6, Ch 7, Ch 8, Ch 9, Ch 10, Ch 11
Master Fic List: here
Chapter 12
Two weeks later…
The police box never returned.
"…nearly shat my pants. The bloody shop keeper just laughs and goes 'Oh no, sir. That's me mum's ghost! She always comes around this time' and he waves it goodbye and it swans off without even a poof!"
The director had told everybody that the Doctor had finished conducting his business and left with the temporal co-duplicator, and a vague promise to return. St. Nicholas was probably more reliable. Everyone mourned-to Ianto's disgust-at the loss then went back to work, their desks crammed with new technologies and ideas courtesy of the Doctor. Ianto wondered why no one questioned the generosity of the Doctor's knowledge. Wasn't he tampering with time by interfering?
"I saw one walking into Pat's right through the wall. I thought I had a brain fart-"
"Only you would call it a brain fart-"
"Twit. Anyway, no one even blinked!"
Plus, no one knew where he had gone; or his…companion.
"I really think it has something to do with that sphere! The Doctor called it a void ship-"
"Void? That's impossible."
"I know! I think Dr. Singh wants to propose to it. When we give it power the readings are absolutely fantastic!"
"Sod the ship. What about these ghosts showing up everywhere?"
Ianto can't stop thinking about him. Harkness. Jack. He didn't even know when he had begun to think of him as Jack. Ianto never called him that. He hoped Harkness was well.
"…even Westminster bridge! Saw a clip on CNW…walking just like you and I!"
He had only known him for a few weeks, a few days really if you only counted the actual face-to-face or, er, lip-to-lip interactions they had shared. Lord, why can't he stop thinking about that kiss? Both of them!
"…Gareth says the breach is growing wider by the day…"
"The skyscraper should cover it nicely…if MX-CR can keep up with its wattage."
"…do in two months what they couldn't do in decades!"
And the video clips in his office email were passed around like spam, like those cheap email jokes, forwarded and then forwarded again from his co-workers, even from people he didn't know. He just kept deleting them. He didn't want to know. They started calling them DC clips. The Doctor's companion. Ianto wasn't sure if the annoyance he felt each time he heard it was for himself or Harkness. He was beginning to wonder if he had been mistaken about the captain and that angered him.
"…can't wait until Singh finishes the final stage…thinks he can figure out what's inside."
The cargo bay was sealed off again. This time, it was for construction to expand Torchwood; to reach a breach they had been experimenting and pouring energies into for the past five weeks. It was mind-boggling how much had happened since then. The world felt like it was changing too fast for him.
Lisa's hand slipped around his middle drawing him from his thoughts. Ianto blinked, chagrined when he realized everyone had stopped talking.
"We're boring you," Lorrie announced, never shy about her opinion. She reached over and plucked half of Lisa's sausage butty and switched it with her half of a bacon butty. Lorrie took a bite of it and made a face. "Cripes, Lisa, what's with all the ketchup?"
Ianto grinned sheepishly. "You're not boring me," he told them. "Archives is not really a necessary tool during all this…activity." Ianto pointed to the ceiling.
"Sod activity. If the banging and hammering would just stop," Frederick grumbled as he cleaned his hands on a napkin. "I'll be happy."
"You're never happy," Elisa shot back as she wiped her mouth and rose to her feet.
"Okay…happy-like," Frederick returned. He stretched. "If you're bored, Kirk, then why don't you join us science types? Everyone upstairs needs aid and the half-wits they send us don't help."
Despite the gruff offhand remark, Ianto could hear the sincerity. Ianto smiled and shook his head. He was acutely aware of the application slipped between the files sitting on the "Ha" cabinet.
"Aw, come on. We're not so bad…and the lab coats hang just below the knee. Useful when you're bored." Frederick yelped when Elisa slapped the back of his head. "Oi!"
"That's disgusting! I don't wear my lab coat because of that!"
"Well, maybe you should! Then you wouldn't be drooling over everything with two legs and a-stop hitting me, woman! I could beat you with just my finger you little-Oi!"
"Bye, guys!" Lorrie waved, not looking back. She smirked at Ianto and Lisa. They could hear Frederick and Elisa still going at it all the way to the lifts. "They should just find a utility closet and get on with it."
"Lore!" Lisa burst out laughing.
"I'm just saying!" Lorrie gave her a quick peck on the cheek, doing the same to Ianto. "Have to dash. Be good." She grabbed the last remaining sandwich, winked at them both, and headed down the hallway, chewing contently.
Ianto smiled to himself as he watched her break into a trot, sighting the lift.
"You're awfully quiet today."
Ianto glanced sideways at her. "You say I'm quiet every day."
"Hm," Lisa just commented before she helped Ianto clear the desk of the wax papers and empty mugs. She gave Ianto a look then appeared to change her mind about something.
"What?"
Lisa hesitated. She chewed on her lower lip thoughtfully, shook her head, and then stretched out the garbage bag towards Ianto. She held it open as he filled it with their refuse.
"I saw Abigail at the cafeteria this morning," Lisa said all of the sudden.
Ianto grimaced but smiled. "Lorrie gossips too much. Are they still calling you Spock?"
"No." Lisa giggled. "I think you need to establish more diplomatic relations with another alien to be the talk of the Tower again."
Ianto tossed a straw wrapper at her. It bounced off her nose. "Good. I’d rather be old news. Which is fitting considering where I work."
"Funny you should say that…"
Ianto looked up. Lisa's gaze was lowered to the bag she held.
"What's the matter?"
"Abigail just mentioned…" Lisa shrugged. "Well…she was wondering why she hadn't heard back about your application?"
Ah. Now it was Ianto's turn to look away. "Oh."
"When did you get an application?" There was no reproach in Lisa's voice and somehow that made it worse. Ianto sat on the edge of his desk. Lisa sat down on his chair and rolled up in front of him.
The eyes were wrong and the hands on his lap felt like they didn't belong. Ianto felt horrible for thinking that, so he answered Lisa as honestly as he could.
"Last month, more or less." Then, Ianto shrugged. "It was the Doctor's recommendation." And he still didn't know why.
"That's good." Lisa smiled up at him, but it wavered on his face. "It's…not good?" When Ianto didn't answer, Lisa sighed. "You can't stay down here forever."
"Of course not. Torchwood's mandatory retirement is at age 65."
Lisa gave him a look under her lashes that told him she wasn't impressed. "You know what I mean."
Ianto exhaled slowly. He placed his hands on Lisa's shoulders and tried not to think how it didn't feel as right as his hands over larger, cool ones and how the eyes were still wrong. "I know. I'm sorry."
"Don't apologize." Lisa misunderstood. "I just don't want you to be down here forever."
Ianto smiled faintly. "Forever's an exaggeration."
"Well, you're certainly trying for it." Lisa rubbed her palms up and down his legs. She hesitated.
"Look, I know this stuff with your family has been hard, but…" Lisa caught the pained look on his face and like many times before, she backed off. "I just want to help you."
It had been the other way around all his life so this was something Ianto was trying hard to understand. He fumbled. "I know. I just need time-"
"It's just, you’ve been down here so long that sometimes I feel like I need to check your pulse to see if you're still alive." Lisa's mouth curved ruefully. "Okay, that was a slight exaggeration there." She wheeled her seat closer and tilted her head up towards him. "It's a first-rate chance. There are good people up there. You know Elisa and Lorrie and Frederick's a prat but he's a good old bastard."
Ianto met Lisa's lips halfway. He slipped his fingers up her short hair, momentarily disconcerted when he realized it felt different than what he was expecting.
"You'll think about it?" Lisa murmured against his mouth, her tone hopeful.
Ianto kissed her and hoped it was answer enough. It was the only one he could give right now.
"…confirmed to be of the Malgruw planets, a refugee from their civil wars. Freelance agent Harkness recommends detainment until its ship can be recovered. He advises agents to avoid close proximity…"
This time, he was in the dark, dapper suit of a police officer for New York in the 1920's. Harkness stared back in a black and white picture, again, hat under his arm, standing at attention. He was no longer loose-limbed, however, and no longer relaxed in stance.
But he looked exactly the same. Sort of.
There was a bit of a glazed look in the eyes now, a remainder from having been assigned to infiltrate enemy ranks during the Great War. He had been there for three years. He was only meant to be in Austria for five months.
Ianto compared the photo to the 1909 one he couldn't bring himself to return to the original folder. And after a month of wandering aimlessly past the cargo bay area, deleting more 'DC' video clips from his email, Ianto had finally opened the first Harkness folder he had found long ago. He didn't know why, but it felt like the answer would be there. He just didn't know the question.
He had been surprised to see the captain's own handwriting; straight as if written alongside a ruler, bold as if his ink pen was pressing too hard.
"…part of a Chula warship. It feels like someone up there is having a joke at my expense. It was pretty much half-buried in no man's land. It was blown up (See above for joke reference) during a trench fight that lasted too long but was too short to justify the amount of loss in the end. The name no man's land was well earned..."
The photo was taken before he was sent off. Ianto looked at the 1909 and the other in his hand. He frowned. Impossibly, Harkness hadn't aged. Did he jump from time to time? How did he still come to work for Torchwood? What about his Doctor? Where was he?
The loose limb, deceptively care-free pose was in all the photos, but after staring at all three photo versions he'd uncovered so far, Ianto knew the pose was deliberate.
I don't care, it seemed to say.
"Liar," Ianto murmured. He felt vaguely perturbed that he was compelled to answer.
Sighing, Ianto replaced the photos back in their respective folders save the 1909 one.
He looked at it as he sat perched on the edge of his desk again, cloaked in the shadows and calm of the archives that he'd relied on to give him peace.
Except Harkness had changed that.
There was a stirring in his belly as he sat there. His palms sweated as he thought about how strange it was that stubble could felt so erotic under his hands. Shoulders broader than a woman's, muscles that bunched as Harkness flexed and moved; they shouldn't have felt that good.
"I never should have brought you down here," Ianto murmured. "What am I supposed to do now?"
The Harkness of 1909 didn't answer.
The lights, however, flickered.
Annoyed, Ianto looked up and frowned. It didn't happen often but it was irritating. MX-CR was apparently powering the Rift program Lisa and her friends were in. The drain their project required, however, sometimes tapped Torchwood's main power as well.
Ianto was about to reach for the flashlight he had set aside when he paused. The application taunted him from the stack of files. Ianto reluctantly pulled it out and stared at the still blank form.
It would mean more pay and the salary would be useful.
It would mean out of the quiet and solitude of the archives, though.
Ianto thought he could hear himself, murmuring meaningless words, harsh, rasping sounds that quieted, as if Ianto's words actually soothed. What Ianto said, what he did, he couldn't remember, but he felt a moment of fitting back into the universe when Harkness quieted. The universe splintered again when the captain pulled away.
"Nonsense," Ianto murmured. Considering the scattered reports before him, Harkness didn't need a "beautiful boy" who barely came out from the basement to piece him together. Harkness had seen enough wars and time, apparently, to harden his spirit. Harkness looked like a man who could soldier on.
Ianto, on the other hand, was still trying to find reason to.
Lisa, in her own delicate way, was right. The archives were his crutch, buried in desolate quiet that had, at one point, felt safe and predictable. No surprises, nothing that would be pulled out from under him and skew a world he knew all his life to be an uncertain one. There was no one down here to disappoint him; no one he could disappoint.
But then he tasted coffee in Harkness' mouth. And the archives felt so…deficient now.
The photo flapped up in front of him. "But you're not here to right it again, are you, Captain?" Ianto murmured with the first real hint of anger in a long time.
Ianto looked around him and wondered when the walls had started standing so close together. He sighed deeply and reached forward for the folder he knew by heart.
The pin by the mission report was rusty, the head eroded off. Ianto pulled the needle out slowly, a sardonic smile on his face at the metaphor. He positioned Harkness' photo over the report, matched the corners perfectly, and then he positioned the stapler over the two pieces.
His eyes oddly burned at the sharp click the stapler made, pinning the photo to the handwritten missive. It felt like a betrayal slipping it back into the folder.
"Good night, Captain," Ianto murmured as he dropped it gently-strange as it was only a folder and not Harkness itself-into the drawer. He slid the drawer shut and rested his forehead on the door.
It took a few moments; to feel like it was alright to walk away. Ianto brushed two fingers against the label affixed on the cabinet. The cool surface of the typed paper felt wrong. But it needed to be done.
Ianto took a deep breath and pulled his fingers away. He tucked his hand in his pocket. The emptiness made him pull his hand out again to leave it hanging against his side. He walked away.
It was time to get back to work.
Three weeks later…
Torchwood was swimming with enough activity that even Archives was recruited into helping out. Ianto, while annoyed they had become glorified lackeys for upstairs, was also glad for a legitimate excuse to shuttle in and out of his humble section of the archives.
Today, Dr. Singh needed artifacts 1357 and 4389 and…well, they were enough for a trolley, which meant enough room to sneak in a thermos of coffee for Lisa.
Lisa sighed happily as she drained her cup. She leaned against Ianto, propped up outside the door to her lab. "Lord, if I could feed this to the people, they would vote me PM!"
Ianto chuckled as he refilled her drink. He nodded at a few faces he came to know during his trips up to the labs.
"You've become popular," Lisa mused as another whistled a greeting before ducking into one of the labs.
"You science types have been very demanding." Ianto made a long suffering face to which Lisa elbowed him.
"It's the only chance we can get to see each other."
"How romantic," Ianto said dryly. "I didn't know 'Get me the ionic cycle modifier' was really code for 'I miss you'."
"I said please."
"Yes," Ianto conceded as he capped the thermos. "You did. I do appreciate it." He raised an eyebrow as doors slammed down the sterile looking white hallways.
"Are we on fire?" Ianto commented as yet another lab coat hurried to another door. The only door that hadn't opened repeatedly was the one at the end, an entrance with double doors whose glass was fogged out, unlike the others where he could see people scurrying about.
Lisa laughed. "No, but-"
The doors Ianto was just musing about before opened a crack. A harried man, in the ubiquitous lab coat, pulled down his surgical mask to reveal an unshaven jaw and a frowning mouth. He looked like Graham Norton, his head all frenzied as he looked around him, hands waving and gesturing as soon as he sighted Ianto and Lisa.
"You! You there!"
"Oh lord, it's Batty Matty," Lisa murmured, already edging for her door.
"Batty Matty?" Ianto echoed.
"Matt Granger. Lorrie can't stand him. He's in charge of MX-CR and mad as a bat. Listen, I should get back to work. Kisses." Lisa gave him a quick peck on the lips and she hurriedly swiped her badge and ducked inside before 'Batty Matty' reached them.
Ianto harrumphed. "Like a sinking ship," he muttered.
"Where did she go?" The scientist squinted up at Ianto, his brown, almost orange hair made it look like someone had lit his head on fire. The scientist certainly acted like it.
"Oh uh, she needed to get back to work," Ianto mumbled.
It was disconcerting how those green eyes zeroed in on him even though they were only inches apart.
"And you? Do you have to go back to work?" Granger demanded.
"Well, I-"
"I need you to go to Medical and get me IV kit six. They keep breaking off and I'm here all by myself. Every ruddy aide must have run off for the damn breach." Granger scribbled something on what looked like a prescription pad and tore a page off, slapping it on Ianto's chest.
"Just give them that. Hurry up. It doesn't stay under long and I need to charge up another cell."
Ianto was getting dizzy. Was Granger even talking English? He stared blankly at the small page and what looked like a…smiley face?
"I think you're mistaken. I don't work here-"
Granger scowled at him then he nodded. "Yes, yes, of course you don't." He shrugged out of his coat, his badge still clipped to his collar. "Wear this. You’ll look like my esquire."
Aghast, Ianto numbly took the coat. "Wait. I can't-" He yelped when Granger all but shoved him out the double doors, pointing at him to the guard and barking, "Let him back in later!", then spun Ianto around so the guard could have a better look at him from all sides.
Ianto sputtered. "Now wait-"
"Hurry up, haven't all day. And someone pick that trolley up, it's a fire hazard! Not you! Medical! Shoo!" And Granger was gone, already heading back to MX-CR, gesturing wildly to himself.
Ianto stared after him through the lab floor's main doors.
"Shoo?" he echoed, looking over to the guard.
The guard merely shrugged.
Ianto sighed as he slipped on the too short coat. It fell to his hip. The sleeves were three inches shy to his wrist and the coat smelled like greasy pork.
"This is exactly why I didn't want to work on this floor."
"See you later," the guard called after him before he went back to his paper, his foot tapping against the stool he was sitting on.
Medical, thankfully, was far more sedate. Ianto poked his head inside Torchwood's medical facility that doubled as their infirmary. He didn't see anyone; just rows of empty gurneys and equipment.
"Hello?"
A nurse rolled out from a tiny room. He actually looked like he would have better served as a guard. He was built like a rugby player.
"You need a kit?" The smile greeted him was pleasant enough if not a little distracted. The nurse kept looking back into the tiny room off to Ianto's right that served as an office. Ianto could see the blue flicker of a modest television set. "Back cabinet. Just sign out what you take." And the nurse rolled his chair back in.
Ianto blinked, still holding up the paper that apparently was pointless. "Uh…thank you," Ianto said as he steered for the wired glass double door cabinet that took up the entire back wall. It wasn't even locked.
"Welcome," the nurse murmured distractedly. "Blimey!" The nurse poked his head back out just as Ianto poked his inside the medical kit cabinet.
"They got ghosts wandering around Beijing, too! Ghosts!" The rollers on the nurse's chair groaned. "Real, sodding ghosts! First London, then New York, now Beijing!"
Ianto spotted the IV kits. He groaned mentally. Not even in order, stuffed in a cardboard box by the depressors.
"My brother said he saw one in Notting. But he's just a mailman. He thinks our neighbor is an alien."
Maybe Torchwood should investigate, Ianto thought sourly as he checked another one. Five, no, that one's three, where was six?
"You think we got something to do with it?"
"I wouldn't be surprised," Ianto muttered.
"Eh?"
"I said I couldn't find six," Ianto said louder, holding up a fistful of bagged kits.
The nurse looked at him stupidly. "Which one?"
"Six."
The cheery chubby face changed dramatically. The nurse stood up from his chair. "From MX-CR, are you?"
Ianto blinked, taken back. "Uh, yes."
A beefy hand opened towards him. "I'll need to see your paper," the nurse requested in a crisp voice utterly different from before.
Ianto inwardly cringed as he handed over the hastily drawn note. "All I have is…"
The nurse, so serious Ianto wondered if perhaps there were two nurses here, studied the note intently. He glanced up, his somber expression easing a fraction.
"Granger, huh?" The nurse shook his head as he entered the small room, snapped on some gloves, and came out with a key. He crouched down to a locked safe in the cabinet. "He's not a real doctor. Not medical at least," the nurse commented as he inserted the key. "But he has the handwriting of one."
Carefully as if it was made of glass, the nurse pulled out what looked like a cooler the size of the television set still buzzing in the tiny office. Over the nurse's shoulder, Ianto could see several more stacked inside the safe that filled with icy vapors.
The nurse handed him gloves to wear. Then he made Ianto sign one form, then another, before he handed over the case. He handled it so gingerly, Ianto was almost afraid to accept it.
"Watch it," the nurse cautioned. "Doctor says you must avoid breaking the seal. Temperature will remain constant for only twenty minutes so don't dawdle." The nurse helped open the door and followed Ianto to open the lift. "It can't handle temporal or vortex ions if it gets too warm so don't br-"
"Break the seal. Got it," Ianto said, almost afraid to breathe. He ducked into the lift, both hands gripping the handle and keeping the case away from his body.
"Good luck!" the nurse shouted as the doors closed.
Ianto swallowed.
The guard had looked up casually, but the moment he sighted the case, he jumped off his stool and opened the pneumonic doors with an overriding swipe of his card.
"Excuse me, pardon me," Ianto muttered even though there was no one in the hallways. He was beginning to sweat, his palms sticky. The lights had flickered once more while he was in the lift and Ianto worried he would get trapped. Now he was worried his perspiration would compromise the strange kit he was holding. Of course it wouldn't, but God, you never know, yes?
"Excuse me, pardon me," Ianto muttered again, relieved the MX-CR door was ajar. He didn't spare a hand for the door, merely kicking it wider to enter.
Granger was nowhere in sight, but Ianto could hear his voice from somewhere.
"That you? Take it down to the last chamber and don't break anything!"
The chamber was actually a rotunda cluttered with odd glass tubes lit up with blue light and narrowing out into metal pipes that snaked up to the ceiling. There was a doorway, a dark corridor lit only by a glowing outline of another door at the far end.
Ianto wanted to walk carefully. It was only a small incline but pitch dark. He could feel the walls with his elbows. At first they felt smooth, gradually feeling sandy and oddly warm.
As soon as he reached the door, he could hear a rhythmic hiss that reminded him of a respirator-a childhood memory still too fresh in his mind-and a hum like the old icebox from his university dorm.
The door opened with an easy nudge of his foot and Ianto entered, again with a wary "Hello?" No one answered.
Ianto stopped. The walls were damningly familiar: coral and pinkish in color with sparkles of gold. They clung to the exposed dry wall like old ivy, twisting and winding, meeting up at the center like an arch. An odd jagged glass panel hung like a light fixture over…
"Oh God," Ianto whispered, his feet bringing him closer on their own accord.
In the center of the room was an oval platform, curved up around the edges and elevated above the floor to level of his hip. It looked to be made of the same coral, shackled into shape with brackets that also held leather straps as thick as his calf.
The case which Ianto had carried so carefully before, dropped to the floor. But Ianto could care less as he was riveted to what lay on the middle of the platform.
Like alabaster, still and white, tubing like worms squirming out of his veins, skin cool and dry to his touch, lay Captain Jack Harkness.
Chapter 13
Additional Notes:Many thanks to soullessminion for betaing this chapter.
Pairing: Jack/OMC, Jack/?, Jack/Ianto eventually, het and slash
Rating: NC-17 (betaed)
Summary: He left Jack on the game station. Abandoned. But then…he came back…different. An AU look on what happens if things happened differently. Doctor Who 'verse with Torchwood later on. Be sure to read the warnings.
Warnings: Please read each chapter's individual warnings. Some parts down the road may briefly mention non-con, abuse, and/or violence. Dark in the beginning. Please note there are some dark thoughts as my boys are broken…for now. Each chapter will be labeled for your convenience.
Author's Notes: Please note this is an AU that will cross over DW to TW season one. I'm probably spoiling my own story, but it will eventually be Janto. There's a bit of a journey first. I hope you enjoy. I'm working on this and intend to post regularly every other day. And again, I always believe in happy endings. So without further ado…
Disclaimer: RTD and BBC owns them. I'm just borrowing them for a while.
Warning For This Chapter: mentions past non-con/dubious consent, minor (very minor) het, verbal and mental abuse.
Prologue + Ch , Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6, Ch 7, Ch 8, Ch 9, Ch 10, Ch 11
Master Fic List: here
Chapter 12
Two weeks later…
The police box never returned.
"…nearly shat my pants. The bloody shop keeper just laughs and goes 'Oh no, sir. That's me mum's ghost! She always comes around this time' and he waves it goodbye and it swans off without even a poof!"
The director had told everybody that the Doctor had finished conducting his business and left with the temporal co-duplicator, and a vague promise to return. St. Nicholas was probably more reliable. Everyone mourned-to Ianto's disgust-at the loss then went back to work, their desks crammed with new technologies and ideas courtesy of the Doctor. Ianto wondered why no one questioned the generosity of the Doctor's knowledge. Wasn't he tampering with time by interfering?
"I saw one walking into Pat's right through the wall. I thought I had a brain fart-"
"Only you would call it a brain fart-"
"Twit. Anyway, no one even blinked!"
Plus, no one knew where he had gone; or his…companion.
"I really think it has something to do with that sphere! The Doctor called it a void ship-"
"Void? That's impossible."
"I know! I think Dr. Singh wants to propose to it. When we give it power the readings are absolutely fantastic!"
"Sod the ship. What about these ghosts showing up everywhere?"
Ianto can't stop thinking about him. Harkness. Jack. He didn't even know when he had begun to think of him as Jack. Ianto never called him that. He hoped Harkness was well.
"…even Westminster bridge! Saw a clip on CNW…walking just like you and I!"
He had only known him for a few weeks, a few days really if you only counted the actual face-to-face or, er, lip-to-lip interactions they had shared. Lord, why can't he stop thinking about that kiss? Both of them!
"…Gareth says the breach is growing wider by the day…"
"The skyscraper should cover it nicely…if MX-CR can keep up with its wattage."
"…do in two months what they couldn't do in decades!"
And the video clips in his office email were passed around like spam, like those cheap email jokes, forwarded and then forwarded again from his co-workers, even from people he didn't know. He just kept deleting them. He didn't want to know. They started calling them DC clips. The Doctor's companion. Ianto wasn't sure if the annoyance he felt each time he heard it was for himself or Harkness. He was beginning to wonder if he had been mistaken about the captain and that angered him.
"…can't wait until Singh finishes the final stage…thinks he can figure out what's inside."
The cargo bay was sealed off again. This time, it was for construction to expand Torchwood; to reach a breach they had been experimenting and pouring energies into for the past five weeks. It was mind-boggling how much had happened since then. The world felt like it was changing too fast for him.
Lisa's hand slipped around his middle drawing him from his thoughts. Ianto blinked, chagrined when he realized everyone had stopped talking.
"We're boring you," Lorrie announced, never shy about her opinion. She reached over and plucked half of Lisa's sausage butty and switched it with her half of a bacon butty. Lorrie took a bite of it and made a face. "Cripes, Lisa, what's with all the ketchup?"
Ianto grinned sheepishly. "You're not boring me," he told them. "Archives is not really a necessary tool during all this…activity." Ianto pointed to the ceiling.
"Sod activity. If the banging and hammering would just stop," Frederick grumbled as he cleaned his hands on a napkin. "I'll be happy."
"You're never happy," Elisa shot back as she wiped her mouth and rose to her feet.
"Okay…happy-like," Frederick returned. He stretched. "If you're bored, Kirk, then why don't you join us science types? Everyone upstairs needs aid and the half-wits they send us don't help."
Despite the gruff offhand remark, Ianto could hear the sincerity. Ianto smiled and shook his head. He was acutely aware of the application slipped between the files sitting on the "Ha" cabinet.
"Aw, come on. We're not so bad…and the lab coats hang just below the knee. Useful when you're bored." Frederick yelped when Elisa slapped the back of his head. "Oi!"
"That's disgusting! I don't wear my lab coat because of that!"
"Well, maybe you should! Then you wouldn't be drooling over everything with two legs and a-stop hitting me, woman! I could beat you with just my finger you little-Oi!"
"Bye, guys!" Lorrie waved, not looking back. She smirked at Ianto and Lisa. They could hear Frederick and Elisa still going at it all the way to the lifts. "They should just find a utility closet and get on with it."
"Lore!" Lisa burst out laughing.
"I'm just saying!" Lorrie gave her a quick peck on the cheek, doing the same to Ianto. "Have to dash. Be good." She grabbed the last remaining sandwich, winked at them both, and headed down the hallway, chewing contently.
Ianto smiled to himself as he watched her break into a trot, sighting the lift.
"You're awfully quiet today."
Ianto glanced sideways at her. "You say I'm quiet every day."
"Hm," Lisa just commented before she helped Ianto clear the desk of the wax papers and empty mugs. She gave Ianto a look then appeared to change her mind about something.
"What?"
Lisa hesitated. She chewed on her lower lip thoughtfully, shook her head, and then stretched out the garbage bag towards Ianto. She held it open as he filled it with their refuse.
"I saw Abigail at the cafeteria this morning," Lisa said all of the sudden.
Ianto grimaced but smiled. "Lorrie gossips too much. Are they still calling you Spock?"
"No." Lisa giggled. "I think you need to establish more diplomatic relations with another alien to be the talk of the Tower again."
Ianto tossed a straw wrapper at her. It bounced off her nose. "Good. I’d rather be old news. Which is fitting considering where I work."
"Funny you should say that…"
Ianto looked up. Lisa's gaze was lowered to the bag she held.
"What's the matter?"
"Abigail just mentioned…" Lisa shrugged. "Well…she was wondering why she hadn't heard back about your application?"
Ah. Now it was Ianto's turn to look away. "Oh."
"When did you get an application?" There was no reproach in Lisa's voice and somehow that made it worse. Ianto sat on the edge of his desk. Lisa sat down on his chair and rolled up in front of him.
The eyes were wrong and the hands on his lap felt like they didn't belong. Ianto felt horrible for thinking that, so he answered Lisa as honestly as he could.
"Last month, more or less." Then, Ianto shrugged. "It was the Doctor's recommendation." And he still didn't know why.
"That's good." Lisa smiled up at him, but it wavered on his face. "It's…not good?" When Ianto didn't answer, Lisa sighed. "You can't stay down here forever."
"Of course not. Torchwood's mandatory retirement is at age 65."
Lisa gave him a look under her lashes that told him she wasn't impressed. "You know what I mean."
Ianto exhaled slowly. He placed his hands on Lisa's shoulders and tried not to think how it didn't feel as right as his hands over larger, cool ones and how the eyes were still wrong. "I know. I'm sorry."
"Don't apologize." Lisa misunderstood. "I just don't want you to be down here forever."
Ianto smiled faintly. "Forever's an exaggeration."
"Well, you're certainly trying for it." Lisa rubbed her palms up and down his legs. She hesitated.
"Look, I know this stuff with your family has been hard, but…" Lisa caught the pained look on his face and like many times before, she backed off. "I just want to help you."
It had been the other way around all his life so this was something Ianto was trying hard to understand. He fumbled. "I know. I just need time-"
"It's just, you’ve been down here so long that sometimes I feel like I need to check your pulse to see if you're still alive." Lisa's mouth curved ruefully. "Okay, that was a slight exaggeration there." She wheeled her seat closer and tilted her head up towards him. "It's a first-rate chance. There are good people up there. You know Elisa and Lorrie and Frederick's a prat but he's a good old bastard."
Ianto met Lisa's lips halfway. He slipped his fingers up her short hair, momentarily disconcerted when he realized it felt different than what he was expecting.
"You'll think about it?" Lisa murmured against his mouth, her tone hopeful.
Ianto kissed her and hoped it was answer enough. It was the only one he could give right now.
"…confirmed to be of the Malgruw planets, a refugee from their civil wars. Freelance agent Harkness recommends detainment until its ship can be recovered. He advises agents to avoid close proximity…"
This time, he was in the dark, dapper suit of a police officer for New York in the 1920's. Harkness stared back in a black and white picture, again, hat under his arm, standing at attention. He was no longer loose-limbed, however, and no longer relaxed in stance.
But he looked exactly the same. Sort of.
There was a bit of a glazed look in the eyes now, a remainder from having been assigned to infiltrate enemy ranks during the Great War. He had been there for three years. He was only meant to be in Austria for five months.
Ianto compared the photo to the 1909 one he couldn't bring himself to return to the original folder. And after a month of wandering aimlessly past the cargo bay area, deleting more 'DC' video clips from his email, Ianto had finally opened the first Harkness folder he had found long ago. He didn't know why, but it felt like the answer would be there. He just didn't know the question.
He had been surprised to see the captain's own handwriting; straight as if written alongside a ruler, bold as if his ink pen was pressing too hard.
"…part of a Chula warship. It feels like someone up there is having a joke at my expense. It was pretty much half-buried in no man's land. It was blown up (See above for joke reference) during a trench fight that lasted too long but was too short to justify the amount of loss in the end. The name no man's land was well earned..."
The photo was taken before he was sent off. Ianto looked at the 1909 and the other in his hand. He frowned. Impossibly, Harkness hadn't aged. Did he jump from time to time? How did he still come to work for Torchwood? What about his Doctor? Where was he?
The loose limb, deceptively care-free pose was in all the photos, but after staring at all three photo versions he'd uncovered so far, Ianto knew the pose was deliberate.
I don't care, it seemed to say.
"Liar," Ianto murmured. He felt vaguely perturbed that he was compelled to answer.
Sighing, Ianto replaced the photos back in their respective folders save the 1909 one.
He looked at it as he sat perched on the edge of his desk again, cloaked in the shadows and calm of the archives that he'd relied on to give him peace.
Except Harkness had changed that.
There was a stirring in his belly as he sat there. His palms sweated as he thought about how strange it was that stubble could felt so erotic under his hands. Shoulders broader than a woman's, muscles that bunched as Harkness flexed and moved; they shouldn't have felt that good.
"I never should have brought you down here," Ianto murmured. "What am I supposed to do now?"
The Harkness of 1909 didn't answer.
The lights, however, flickered.
Annoyed, Ianto looked up and frowned. It didn't happen often but it was irritating. MX-CR was apparently powering the Rift program Lisa and her friends were in. The drain their project required, however, sometimes tapped Torchwood's main power as well.
Ianto was about to reach for the flashlight he had set aside when he paused. The application taunted him from the stack of files. Ianto reluctantly pulled it out and stared at the still blank form.
It would mean more pay and the salary would be useful.
It would mean out of the quiet and solitude of the archives, though.
Ianto thought he could hear himself, murmuring meaningless words, harsh, rasping sounds that quieted, as if Ianto's words actually soothed. What Ianto said, what he did, he couldn't remember, but he felt a moment of fitting back into the universe when Harkness quieted. The universe splintered again when the captain pulled away.
"Nonsense," Ianto murmured. Considering the scattered reports before him, Harkness didn't need a "beautiful boy" who barely came out from the basement to piece him together. Harkness had seen enough wars and time, apparently, to harden his spirit. Harkness looked like a man who could soldier on.
Ianto, on the other hand, was still trying to find reason to.
Lisa, in her own delicate way, was right. The archives were his crutch, buried in desolate quiet that had, at one point, felt safe and predictable. No surprises, nothing that would be pulled out from under him and skew a world he knew all his life to be an uncertain one. There was no one down here to disappoint him; no one he could disappoint.
But then he tasted coffee in Harkness' mouth. And the archives felt so…deficient now.
The photo flapped up in front of him. "But you're not here to right it again, are you, Captain?" Ianto murmured with the first real hint of anger in a long time.
Ianto looked around him and wondered when the walls had started standing so close together. He sighed deeply and reached forward for the folder he knew by heart.
The pin by the mission report was rusty, the head eroded off. Ianto pulled the needle out slowly, a sardonic smile on his face at the metaphor. He positioned Harkness' photo over the report, matched the corners perfectly, and then he positioned the stapler over the two pieces.
His eyes oddly burned at the sharp click the stapler made, pinning the photo to the handwritten missive. It felt like a betrayal slipping it back into the folder.
"Good night, Captain," Ianto murmured as he dropped it gently-strange as it was only a folder and not Harkness itself-into the drawer. He slid the drawer shut and rested his forehead on the door.
It took a few moments; to feel like it was alright to walk away. Ianto brushed two fingers against the label affixed on the cabinet. The cool surface of the typed paper felt wrong. But it needed to be done.
Ianto took a deep breath and pulled his fingers away. He tucked his hand in his pocket. The emptiness made him pull his hand out again to leave it hanging against his side. He walked away.
It was time to get back to work.
Three weeks later…
Torchwood was swimming with enough activity that even Archives was recruited into helping out. Ianto, while annoyed they had become glorified lackeys for upstairs, was also glad for a legitimate excuse to shuttle in and out of his humble section of the archives.
Today, Dr. Singh needed artifacts 1357 and 4389 and…well, they were enough for a trolley, which meant enough room to sneak in a thermos of coffee for Lisa.
Lisa sighed happily as she drained her cup. She leaned against Ianto, propped up outside the door to her lab. "Lord, if I could feed this to the people, they would vote me PM!"
Ianto chuckled as he refilled her drink. He nodded at a few faces he came to know during his trips up to the labs.
"You've become popular," Lisa mused as another whistled a greeting before ducking into one of the labs.
"You science types have been very demanding." Ianto made a long suffering face to which Lisa elbowed him.
"It's the only chance we can get to see each other."
"How romantic," Ianto said dryly. "I didn't know 'Get me the ionic cycle modifier' was really code for 'I miss you'."
"I said please."
"Yes," Ianto conceded as he capped the thermos. "You did. I do appreciate it." He raised an eyebrow as doors slammed down the sterile looking white hallways.
"Are we on fire?" Ianto commented as yet another lab coat hurried to another door. The only door that hadn't opened repeatedly was the one at the end, an entrance with double doors whose glass was fogged out, unlike the others where he could see people scurrying about.
Lisa laughed. "No, but-"
The doors Ianto was just musing about before opened a crack. A harried man, in the ubiquitous lab coat, pulled down his surgical mask to reveal an unshaven jaw and a frowning mouth. He looked like Graham Norton, his head all frenzied as he looked around him, hands waving and gesturing as soon as he sighted Ianto and Lisa.
"You! You there!"
"Oh lord, it's Batty Matty," Lisa murmured, already edging for her door.
"Batty Matty?" Ianto echoed.
"Matt Granger. Lorrie can't stand him. He's in charge of MX-CR and mad as a bat. Listen, I should get back to work. Kisses." Lisa gave him a quick peck on the lips and she hurriedly swiped her badge and ducked inside before 'Batty Matty' reached them.
Ianto harrumphed. "Like a sinking ship," he muttered.
"Where did she go?" The scientist squinted up at Ianto, his brown, almost orange hair made it look like someone had lit his head on fire. The scientist certainly acted like it.
"Oh uh, she needed to get back to work," Ianto mumbled.
It was disconcerting how those green eyes zeroed in on him even though they were only inches apart.
"And you? Do you have to go back to work?" Granger demanded.
"Well, I-"
"I need you to go to Medical and get me IV kit six. They keep breaking off and I'm here all by myself. Every ruddy aide must have run off for the damn breach." Granger scribbled something on what looked like a prescription pad and tore a page off, slapping it on Ianto's chest.
"Just give them that. Hurry up. It doesn't stay under long and I need to charge up another cell."
Ianto was getting dizzy. Was Granger even talking English? He stared blankly at the small page and what looked like a…smiley face?
"I think you're mistaken. I don't work here-"
Granger scowled at him then he nodded. "Yes, yes, of course you don't." He shrugged out of his coat, his badge still clipped to his collar. "Wear this. You’ll look like my esquire."
Aghast, Ianto numbly took the coat. "Wait. I can't-" He yelped when Granger all but shoved him out the double doors, pointing at him to the guard and barking, "Let him back in later!", then spun Ianto around so the guard could have a better look at him from all sides.
Ianto sputtered. "Now wait-"
"Hurry up, haven't all day. And someone pick that trolley up, it's a fire hazard! Not you! Medical! Shoo!" And Granger was gone, already heading back to MX-CR, gesturing wildly to himself.
Ianto stared after him through the lab floor's main doors.
"Shoo?" he echoed, looking over to the guard.
The guard merely shrugged.
Ianto sighed as he slipped on the too short coat. It fell to his hip. The sleeves were three inches shy to his wrist and the coat smelled like greasy pork.
"This is exactly why I didn't want to work on this floor."
"See you later," the guard called after him before he went back to his paper, his foot tapping against the stool he was sitting on.
Medical, thankfully, was far more sedate. Ianto poked his head inside Torchwood's medical facility that doubled as their infirmary. He didn't see anyone; just rows of empty gurneys and equipment.
"Hello?"
A nurse rolled out from a tiny room. He actually looked like he would have better served as a guard. He was built like a rugby player.
"You need a kit?" The smile greeted him was pleasant enough if not a little distracted. The nurse kept looking back into the tiny room off to Ianto's right that served as an office. Ianto could see the blue flicker of a modest television set. "Back cabinet. Just sign out what you take." And the nurse rolled his chair back in.
Ianto blinked, still holding up the paper that apparently was pointless. "Uh…thank you," Ianto said as he steered for the wired glass double door cabinet that took up the entire back wall. It wasn't even locked.
"Welcome," the nurse murmured distractedly. "Blimey!" The nurse poked his head back out just as Ianto poked his inside the medical kit cabinet.
"They got ghosts wandering around Beijing, too! Ghosts!" The rollers on the nurse's chair groaned. "Real, sodding ghosts! First London, then New York, now Beijing!"
Ianto spotted the IV kits. He groaned mentally. Not even in order, stuffed in a cardboard box by the depressors.
"My brother said he saw one in Notting. But he's just a mailman. He thinks our neighbor is an alien."
Maybe Torchwood should investigate, Ianto thought sourly as he checked another one. Five, no, that one's three, where was six?
"You think we got something to do with it?"
"I wouldn't be surprised," Ianto muttered.
"Eh?"
"I said I couldn't find six," Ianto said louder, holding up a fistful of bagged kits.
The nurse looked at him stupidly. "Which one?"
"Six."
The cheery chubby face changed dramatically. The nurse stood up from his chair. "From MX-CR, are you?"
Ianto blinked, taken back. "Uh, yes."
A beefy hand opened towards him. "I'll need to see your paper," the nurse requested in a crisp voice utterly different from before.
Ianto inwardly cringed as he handed over the hastily drawn note. "All I have is…"
The nurse, so serious Ianto wondered if perhaps there were two nurses here, studied the note intently. He glanced up, his somber expression easing a fraction.
"Granger, huh?" The nurse shook his head as he entered the small room, snapped on some gloves, and came out with a key. He crouched down to a locked safe in the cabinet. "He's not a real doctor. Not medical at least," the nurse commented as he inserted the key. "But he has the handwriting of one."
Carefully as if it was made of glass, the nurse pulled out what looked like a cooler the size of the television set still buzzing in the tiny office. Over the nurse's shoulder, Ianto could see several more stacked inside the safe that filled with icy vapors.
The nurse handed him gloves to wear. Then he made Ianto sign one form, then another, before he handed over the case. He handled it so gingerly, Ianto was almost afraid to accept it.
"Watch it," the nurse cautioned. "Doctor says you must avoid breaking the seal. Temperature will remain constant for only twenty minutes so don't dawdle." The nurse helped open the door and followed Ianto to open the lift. "It can't handle temporal or vortex ions if it gets too warm so don't br-"
"Break the seal. Got it," Ianto said, almost afraid to breathe. He ducked into the lift, both hands gripping the handle and keeping the case away from his body.
"Good luck!" the nurse shouted as the doors closed.
Ianto swallowed.
The guard had looked up casually, but the moment he sighted the case, he jumped off his stool and opened the pneumonic doors with an overriding swipe of his card.
"Excuse me, pardon me," Ianto muttered even though there was no one in the hallways. He was beginning to sweat, his palms sticky. The lights had flickered once more while he was in the lift and Ianto worried he would get trapped. Now he was worried his perspiration would compromise the strange kit he was holding. Of course it wouldn't, but God, you never know, yes?
"Excuse me, pardon me," Ianto muttered again, relieved the MX-CR door was ajar. He didn't spare a hand for the door, merely kicking it wider to enter.
Granger was nowhere in sight, but Ianto could hear his voice from somewhere.
"That you? Take it down to the last chamber and don't break anything!"
The chamber was actually a rotunda cluttered with odd glass tubes lit up with blue light and narrowing out into metal pipes that snaked up to the ceiling. There was a doorway, a dark corridor lit only by a glowing outline of another door at the far end.
Ianto wanted to walk carefully. It was only a small incline but pitch dark. He could feel the walls with his elbows. At first they felt smooth, gradually feeling sandy and oddly warm.
As soon as he reached the door, he could hear a rhythmic hiss that reminded him of a respirator-a childhood memory still too fresh in his mind-and a hum like the old icebox from his university dorm.
The door opened with an easy nudge of his foot and Ianto entered, again with a wary "Hello?" No one answered.
Ianto stopped. The walls were damningly familiar: coral and pinkish in color with sparkles of gold. They clung to the exposed dry wall like old ivy, twisting and winding, meeting up at the center like an arch. An odd jagged glass panel hung like a light fixture over…
"Oh God," Ianto whispered, his feet bringing him closer on their own accord.
In the center of the room was an oval platform, curved up around the edges and elevated above the floor to level of his hip. It looked to be made of the same coral, shackled into shape with brackets that also held leather straps as thick as his calf.
The case which Ianto had carried so carefully before, dropped to the floor. But Ianto could care less as he was riveted to what lay on the middle of the platform.
Like alabaster, still and white, tubing like worms squirming out of his veins, skin cool and dry to his touch, lay Captain Jack Harkness.
Chapter 13
Additional Notes:Many thanks to soullessminion for betaing this chapter.