Turning Point - 51/64
Title: Turning Point
Fandom: Torchwood
Pairings: budding Jack/Ianto, references to past Ianto/Lisa
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: If I was the one who owned Torchwood, you think I'd admit it now?
Spoilers: Some information and events from s1,2. NONE for s3.
Summary: In the aftermath of Lisa's death, Ianto is struggling to cope - and new surprises don't help matters much. Can his friends on the team at Torchwood help him carry on?
Author's Note: Sequel to Guilt.
Thanks to: My beta cazmalfoy, angelzbabe1989 for idea bouncing, and morbid_sparks for cheerleading even when she doesn'tdidn't know what happens.
Previous chapters at master list
Chapter Fifty-One
“Could you bring a new round of coffee up to the conference room in about ten-fifteen minutes?” Jack asked as they re-entered the Hub. “Although I do hope we aren’t about to have any trouble from… them, I want to bring everyone up to speed, just in case.”
Ianto nodded. “Absolutely.”
He handed the folder of photographs to Jack and left him to round up the others as he went to fire up the coffee machine.
By the time he entered the conference room with the tray of drinks ten minutes later, the rest were already into a debate on the legitimacy of the photographs that had been projected onto the screen.
He frowned for a moment as he passed the mugs around, trying to recall the name generally given to the pictures in question.
“Because I wrote an essay on the Cottingley glass plate photographs at school, that’s why,” Gwen said defensively as Owen prodded her, and Ianto nodded to himself - ah yes, that was it. “Later in life, the girls admitted they were fakes.”
“Why are we discussing this anyway, Jack?” Owen asked pointedly. Ianto sat down at the other side of the table, leaving the explanations to Jack. It wasn’t like he really understood what was going on himself.
Jack touched a button on a small remote on the table and the photograph on the screen changed to one of the ones Estelle had taken a few nights before. “This is why.”
Everyone looked, but the others still looked confused. “That isn’t really making anything clearer,” Owen said, turning back to Jack.
“This photo, and several others,” Jack started, “were taken by a friend of mine, not far from here, a few days ago.”
“Hang on,” said Gwen, looking suspiciously at Jack. “Are you telling us that fairies are real, and they’re alien?”
“Yes, they’re real,” Jack answered, and Ianto - watching closely - could see him shudder uncomfortably. “Although the name ‘fairies’ doesn’t do them justice. And they’re not alien, they’re so much worse.”
“Worse in what way?” Toshiko asked worriedly.
Gwen shook her head, clearly struggling to assimilate this information. “If they’re not alien, then what are they?”
Jack sighed, his shoulders drooping. “They’re part of us, part of our world, yet we know next to nothing about them. So we pretend. We imagine them as happy little creatures with wings, dancing in the moonlight. We fool ourselves into believing that they’re good.”
There was a pause as silence fell over the room.
“But they’re not?” Gwen asked the question Ianto knew was on all of their minds.
“No. Think dangerous, think something you can only half see - like a glimpse, like something out of the corner of your eye, with a touch of myth, a touch of the spirit world, a touch of reality, all jumbled together,” Jack said darkly. “Everything spinning together, whirling around - and right across time.”
“Shit.” Owen summed it up better than Ianto thought any of the rest of them could.
Jack nodded. “Exactly. If they’re really around - if it’s really them - we need to find them. And soon. Before all hell breaks loose.”
“So, where was this sighting your friend took these pictures of, then?” Toshiko asked, pulling out her laptop and efficiently entering information to collect further data.
“In a place called Roundstone Wood,” Jack told her.
“Huh, I know the place,” Owen said, sounding contemplative. “It has an odd history, though.”
Ianto frowned, wracking his brain for any unusual facts about Roundstone Wood.
Jack looked up at Owen, curiosity written plainly across his face. “Oh? Odd in what way?”
“Well, it’s always stayed wild,” Owen replied. “Developments built up around it, but never destroyed the wood. It’s been considered back luck for centuries to even walk in there, let alone anything else.”
“I’m not getting anything,” Tosh piped up. “No reports, no sightings, no odd readings, nothing.”
“You won’t pick up any odd readings,” Jack said, shaking his head. “They come in under the radar. They do play tricks with the weather, though, so keep an eye out for unusual weather patterns.”
Ianto sighed to himself. He almost wished he had never come across those freak meteorological incidents in the early hours of that morning. Wished even more they had never existed for him to find.
Gwen looked faintly horrified. “You mean, even with all of our machines, we can’t pick them up, whatever they are?”
Jack shook his head sadly, the look on his face grim. “Nothing can.”
Chapter Fifty-Two
Comments and concrit are loved!
Fandom: Torchwood
Pairings: budding Jack/Ianto, references to past Ianto/Lisa
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: If I was the one who owned Torchwood, you think I'd admit it now?
Spoilers: Some information and events from s1,2. NONE for s3.
Summary: In the aftermath of Lisa's death, Ianto is struggling to cope - and new surprises don't help matters much. Can his friends on the team at Torchwood help him carry on?
Author's Note: Sequel to Guilt.
Thanks to: My beta cazmalfoy, angelzbabe1989 for idea bouncing, and morbid_sparks for cheerleading even when she doesn'tdidn't know what happens.
Previous chapters at master list
Chapter Fifty-One
“Could you bring a new round of coffee up to the conference room in about ten-fifteen minutes?” Jack asked as they re-entered the Hub. “Although I do hope we aren’t about to have any trouble from… them, I want to bring everyone up to speed, just in case.”
Ianto nodded. “Absolutely.”
He handed the folder of photographs to Jack and left him to round up the others as he went to fire up the coffee machine.
By the time he entered the conference room with the tray of drinks ten minutes later, the rest were already into a debate on the legitimacy of the photographs that had been projected onto the screen.
He frowned for a moment as he passed the mugs around, trying to recall the name generally given to the pictures in question.
“Because I wrote an essay on the Cottingley glass plate photographs at school, that’s why,” Gwen said defensively as Owen prodded her, and Ianto nodded to himself - ah yes, that was it. “Later in life, the girls admitted they were fakes.”
“Why are we discussing this anyway, Jack?” Owen asked pointedly. Ianto sat down at the other side of the table, leaving the explanations to Jack. It wasn’t like he really understood what was going on himself.
Jack touched a button on a small remote on the table and the photograph on the screen changed to one of the ones Estelle had taken a few nights before. “This is why.”
Everyone looked, but the others still looked confused. “That isn’t really making anything clearer,” Owen said, turning back to Jack.
“This photo, and several others,” Jack started, “were taken by a friend of mine, not far from here, a few days ago.”
“Hang on,” said Gwen, looking suspiciously at Jack. “Are you telling us that fairies are real, and they’re alien?”
“Yes, they’re real,” Jack answered, and Ianto - watching closely - could see him shudder uncomfortably. “Although the name ‘fairies’ doesn’t do them justice. And they’re not alien, they’re so much worse.”
“Worse in what way?” Toshiko asked worriedly.
Gwen shook her head, clearly struggling to assimilate this information. “If they’re not alien, then what are they?”
Jack sighed, his shoulders drooping. “They’re part of us, part of our world, yet we know next to nothing about them. So we pretend. We imagine them as happy little creatures with wings, dancing in the moonlight. We fool ourselves into believing that they’re good.”
There was a pause as silence fell over the room.
“But they’re not?” Gwen asked the question Ianto knew was on all of their minds.
“No. Think dangerous, think something you can only half see - like a glimpse, like something out of the corner of your eye, with a touch of myth, a touch of the spirit world, a touch of reality, all jumbled together,” Jack said darkly. “Everything spinning together, whirling around - and right across time.”
“Shit.” Owen summed it up better than Ianto thought any of the rest of them could.
Jack nodded. “Exactly. If they’re really around - if it’s really them - we need to find them. And soon. Before all hell breaks loose.”
“So, where was this sighting your friend took these pictures of, then?” Toshiko asked, pulling out her laptop and efficiently entering information to collect further data.
“In a place called Roundstone Wood,” Jack told her.
“Huh, I know the place,” Owen said, sounding contemplative. “It has an odd history, though.”
Ianto frowned, wracking his brain for any unusual facts about Roundstone Wood.
Jack looked up at Owen, curiosity written plainly across his face. “Oh? Odd in what way?”
“Well, it’s always stayed wild,” Owen replied. “Developments built up around it, but never destroyed the wood. It’s been considered back luck for centuries to even walk in there, let alone anything else.”
“I’m not getting anything,” Tosh piped up. “No reports, no sightings, no odd readings, nothing.”
“You won’t pick up any odd readings,” Jack said, shaking his head. “They come in under the radar. They do play tricks with the weather, though, so keep an eye out for unusual weather patterns.”
Ianto sighed to himself. He almost wished he had never come across those freak meteorological incidents in the early hours of that morning. Wished even more they had never existed for him to find.
Gwen looked faintly horrified. “You mean, even with all of our machines, we can’t pick them up, whatever they are?”
Jack shook his head sadly, the look on his face grim. “Nothing can.”
Chapter Fifty-Two
Comments and concrit are loved!