Turning Point - 52/64
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-Two
Ianto looked around the conference room where they were all gathered for the second time that day. On the way back from their scouting mission to Roundstone Woods, Jack, Gwen and Owen had been called to the police station to investigate some suspicious activity.
From the little they had said when they had returned, a body bag hoisted between them, Ianto could tell the video footage they were about to watch was not likely to be pleasant.
“Everyone ready?” Jack’s gaze swept the room, pausing on each of them long enough for them to assent before he pressed play.
For the first several seconds of video, nothing happened. The man that now occupied a body bag in cold storage sat on the bench in the police cell, staring blankly ahead.
Suddenly, without any indication as to why, he began to struggle. He grasped at his throat and the walls.
He spluttered, a rose petal falling from his mouth.
Ianto wanted to look away - he could see where this was going - but forced himself to keep his eyes on the screen as the man fell to the floor, writhing and struggling against an unseen attacker.
Just a few minutes after the video had begun, he lay motionless on the floor, a look of agony written across his features. Ianto found himself clearing his throat reflexively, pushing away the slight choking feeling the video had induced.
Jack froze the video and picked up a file they had acquired at the police station. “The dead man was a Mark Goodson. Convicted paedophile, liked to hang around outside schools.”
Ianto looked back at the screen and noticed Tosh doing the same. Even for paedophilia - and he had to swallow hard at even thinking it - was this punishment just?
“Why the petals?” Gwen asked, and Ianto’s gaze snapped back to the others in the room. Why the petals indeed?
Jack laughed mirthlessly. “Just their idea of a bit of fun.”
“Fun?” Gwen sounded almost as if she was choking on the word.
Jack pressed his lips together. “People do get one thing right; they do like to play games. Only their idea of a good game is to torment and kill.”
“But why?” Gwen persisted.
Jack took a slow breath. “As a punishment, or sometimes as a warning to others.” He shook his head just minutely. “They protect their own, and fiercely. The Chosen Ones.”
“Chosen Ones?” Tosh queried.
“Certain children,” Jack replied. “I don’t know. Somehow children and the spirit world just seem to go together.”
Silence slipped over them as they processed the information.
“So, how do we stop them?” Tosh asked a long moment later.
Jack sat back thoughtfully. “We need to find out who they want, find their Chosen One. After that…” He sighed. “We can’t capture or trap them in any way. They can control the elements - fire, water and air. If they wanted to, they could drag the air right out of our bodies.”
He looked faraway for a second, as if something had just occurred to him. “Perhaps they’re part Mara.”
Ianto and Tosh exchanged questioning looks. “Mara?” Tosh asked.
“A kind of malignant wraith,” Jack responded, almost absently, biting his lip gently as he stared soberly into the middle distance. “It’s where the word ‘nightmare’ came from.” His demeanour switched in an instant, the dark, foreboding expression reappearing. “They suffocate people in their sleep.”
Ianto shuddered, the choking feeling threatening its return. He liked the sound of this less and less the more he learned. A quick glance around the room told him he was far from alone in this sentiment.
“So, what are we actually go…?” Gwen’s question was interrupted as the phone rang, startling them all.
Jack leant forward and pulled out the speakerphone unit from the centre of the table, tapping the button to pick up the call. “Yeah?”
“Jack?” The voice on the end of the phone was shaky, a little tentative, and Ianto knew he recognised it. “It’s me, Estelle.”
“What is it, Estelle?” Jack asked, the worry bleeding through in his tone.
“You were right, Jack,” Estelle replied, her voice wobbling even more. “They’re not all good. I think some of the bad ones have come to me.”
“Stay right where you are. Don’t go near them,” Jack said fiercely. “We’re on our way.”
Chapter Fifty-Three
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-Two
Ianto looked around the conference room where they were all gathered for the second time that day. On the way back from their scouting mission to Roundstone Woods, Jack, Gwen and Owen had been called to the police station to investigate some suspicious activity.
From the little they had said when they had returned, a body bag hoisted between them, Ianto could tell the video footage they were about to watch was not likely to be pleasant.
“Everyone ready?” Jack’s gaze swept the room, pausing on each of them long enough for them to assent before he pressed play.
For the first several seconds of video, nothing happened. The man that now occupied a body bag in cold storage sat on the bench in the police cell, staring blankly ahead.
Suddenly, without any indication as to why, he began to struggle. He grasped at his throat and the walls.
He spluttered, a rose petal falling from his mouth.
Ianto wanted to look away - he could see where this was going - but forced himself to keep his eyes on the screen as the man fell to the floor, writhing and struggling against an unseen attacker.
Just a few minutes after the video had begun, he lay motionless on the floor, a look of agony written across his features. Ianto found himself clearing his throat reflexively, pushing away the slight choking feeling the video had induced.
Jack froze the video and picked up a file they had acquired at the police station. “The dead man was a Mark Goodson. Convicted paedophile, liked to hang around outside schools.”
Ianto looked back at the screen and noticed Tosh doing the same. Even for paedophilia - and he had to swallow hard at even thinking it - was this punishment just?
“Why the petals?” Gwen asked, and Ianto’s gaze snapped back to the others in the room. Why the petals indeed?
Jack laughed mirthlessly. “Just their idea of a bit of fun.”
“Fun?” Gwen sounded almost as if she was choking on the word.
Jack pressed his lips together. “People do get one thing right; they do like to play games. Only their idea of a good game is to torment and kill.”
“But why?” Gwen persisted.
Jack took a slow breath. “As a punishment, or sometimes as a warning to others.” He shook his head just minutely. “They protect their own, and fiercely. The Chosen Ones.”
“Chosen Ones?” Tosh queried.
“Certain children,” Jack replied. “I don’t know. Somehow children and the spirit world just seem to go together.”
Silence slipped over them as they processed the information.
“So, how do we stop them?” Tosh asked a long moment later.
Jack sat back thoughtfully. “We need to find out who they want, find their Chosen One. After that…” He sighed. “We can’t capture or trap them in any way. They can control the elements - fire, water and air. If they wanted to, they could drag the air right out of our bodies.”
He looked faraway for a second, as if something had just occurred to him. “Perhaps they’re part Mara.”
Ianto and Tosh exchanged questioning looks. “Mara?” Tosh asked.
“A kind of malignant wraith,” Jack responded, almost absently, biting his lip gently as he stared soberly into the middle distance. “It’s where the word ‘nightmare’ came from.” His demeanour switched in an instant, the dark, foreboding expression reappearing. “They suffocate people in their sleep.”
Ianto shuddered, the choking feeling threatening its return. He liked the sound of this less and less the more he learned. A quick glance around the room told him he was far from alone in this sentiment.
“So, what are we actually go…?” Gwen’s question was interrupted as the phone rang, startling them all.
Jack leant forward and pulled out the speakerphone unit from the centre of the table, tapping the button to pick up the call. “Yeah?”
“Jack?” The voice on the end of the phone was shaky, a little tentative, and Ianto knew he recognised it. “It’s me, Estelle.”
“What is it, Estelle?” Jack asked, the worry bleeding through in his tone.
“You were right, Jack,” Estelle replied, her voice wobbling even more. “They’re not all good. I think some of the bad ones have come to me.”
“Stay right where you are. Don’t go near them,” Jack said fiercely. “We’re on our way.”
Chapter Fifty-Three
Comments and concrit are loved!