Turning Point - 62/64
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 Sixty-Two
Ianto clutched his head with one hand as he drifted back into consciousness. He wasn’t sure what had happened. The last he remembered, he and Tosh had been looking for a way into a large shed-like building where they suspected the SUV had been parked while the others had investigated a village just down the road. And then… nothing.
He looked around, only realising a moment or two later how dark it was. There were no windows; the only light came from some sort of shaft high on one wall, and there was an unpleasant, dank smell. He could only guess at ‘underground’.
It was several more minutes before his brain had cleared and his eyes acclimatised enough to the dim light for him to realise he wasn't alone. Tosh. She had yet to regain consciousness and cautiously - worriedly - he shuffled over to her, not quite trusting his legs to stand, and checked.
She still had a pulse, a strong and steady pulse. Although it wasn't much, it was something, and he sighed a little with relief. This definitely wasn't what he had signed up for when he had agreed to come on this trip.
When he felt a little steadier, he crawled to his feet and made a cursory examination of the room, feeling his way around carefully in the dark. His foot knocked into something that scuffled across the floor a little. Crouching down, he picked it up and examined it in the patch of light over by the shaft to the outside world.
It was… Well, it looked like a meat hook. He kept a hold of it; it might prove useful somehow, especially since his gun was no longer tucked into his waistband.
Tosh made a slight noise, shifting on the floor. Finding an empty crate - he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know what it had once been filled with - he sat down, watching and waiting as Tosh roused.
She groaned softly as she sat up, rubbing her neck. “What…?” she murmured.
Ianto shook his head. “I don’t know. I think I might be off camping for life, though.” He sighed, and tried to smile wryly. “I used to love camping.”
He stood up as Tosh did, ready to catch her if her legs were - like his had been - a little wobbly at first. She seemed steady enough, patting around her own body. “They took all my stuff.”
He nodded. “Yeah, mine too. Including the gun.” Tosh reached down to her ankle, and from the look on her face he guessed that she’d discovered they’d taken hers too.
She checked her other ankle, and looked triumphant, pulling out a small torch. “Not quite everything.”
She flashed the torch around the room; there was detritus scattered around most of the walls, but nothing that particularly looked useful. She flashed it across the door, across the hatch providing them with what little natural light they had.
“As far as I can work out - from the air quality especially - we’re pretty far underground,” Ianto said. “I don’t even know how far we are from where we were taken, which doesn’t look good for our chances of rescue.”
Tosh spun back to face him, looking determined. “We’re not going to need rescuing. Not us. We can get out of this, just you watch.”
The torch beam swung across a light fitting, a bulb still slotted in, and Ianto started fiddling with it as Tosh continued her exploration with the torch.
She leaned into what was now evidently some sort of chute, looking up towards the daylight. She sighed and shook her head - it definitely didn’t look like a viable escape route to Ianto.
When she drew back, she lifted her hand into the light, wriggling her fingers in disgust. The light shone on them and Ianto bit back a gasp. The red smeared across them was unmistakeably blood. “This is not good,” she said quietly, holding her hand up.
“No.” Ianto resolutely did not think of where the blood could have come from, setting his concentration to trying to fix the light.
Tosh’s voice broke through a few minutes later. “Huh. That’s odd.”
“What is it?” He abandoned the light fixture - there was no way he was going to get it working, not without any tools - and crossed the room to join her.
“It’s a shoe,” Tosh replied, holding it out to him and flashing the torch across the floor where she’d found it.
Another shoe came into view. The another, and another. Ianto quickly lost count. “Oh God…”
Tosh dropped the shoe between them, gripping his shirtsleeve. “How many people have been kept down here?” she wondered aloud. Ianto really didn’t want to think about that - not if all that was left of them was their shoes.
At the end of the collection of shoes - when it reached the wall - there was what looked to Ianto like a full height fridge. Tosh let go of his arm and picked her way through the scattered shoes, opening the door.
She gasped, stepping back. “What is it, Tosh?” Ianto asked with trepidation.
She took another step back. “You don’t want to see.”
He carefully stepped forwards to stand beside her, looking into the still open fridge a metre in front of him.
He swallowed hard, clamping down on the nausea.
“That’s why the body was stripped right back like that; why there was nothing left,” Tosh choked out. “They needed to eat. We’re… we’re food.”
Ianto pushed the fridge door closed and looked around worriedly at the heavy door trapping them in. “But for what?”
When he found the answer to his question, barely half an hour later, he wished he had never even asked.
Chapter Sixty-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 Sixty-Two
Ianto clutched his head with one hand as he drifted back into consciousness. He wasn’t sure what had happened. The last he remembered, he and Tosh had been looking for a way into a large shed-like building where they suspected the SUV had been parked while the others had investigated a village just down the road. And then… nothing.
He looked around, only realising a moment or two later how dark it was. There were no windows; the only light came from some sort of shaft high on one wall, and there was an unpleasant, dank smell. He could only guess at ‘underground’.
It was several more minutes before his brain had cleared and his eyes acclimatised enough to the dim light for him to realise he wasn't alone. Tosh. She had yet to regain consciousness and cautiously - worriedly - he shuffled over to her, not quite trusting his legs to stand, and checked.
She still had a pulse, a strong and steady pulse. Although it wasn't much, it was something, and he sighed a little with relief. This definitely wasn't what he had signed up for when he had agreed to come on this trip.
When he felt a little steadier, he crawled to his feet and made a cursory examination of the room, feeling his way around carefully in the dark. His foot knocked into something that scuffled across the floor a little. Crouching down, he picked it up and examined it in the patch of light over by the shaft to the outside world.
It was… Well, it looked like a meat hook. He kept a hold of it; it might prove useful somehow, especially since his gun was no longer tucked into his waistband.
Tosh made a slight noise, shifting on the floor. Finding an empty crate - he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know what it had once been filled with - he sat down, watching and waiting as Tosh roused.
She groaned softly as she sat up, rubbing her neck. “What…?” she murmured.
Ianto shook his head. “I don’t know. I think I might be off camping for life, though.” He sighed, and tried to smile wryly. “I used to love camping.”
He stood up as Tosh did, ready to catch her if her legs were - like his had been - a little wobbly at first. She seemed steady enough, patting around her own body. “They took all my stuff.”
He nodded. “Yeah, mine too. Including the gun.” Tosh reached down to her ankle, and from the look on her face he guessed that she’d discovered they’d taken hers too.
She checked her other ankle, and looked triumphant, pulling out a small torch. “Not quite everything.”
She flashed the torch around the room; there was detritus scattered around most of the walls, but nothing that particularly looked useful. She flashed it across the door, across the hatch providing them with what little natural light they had.
“As far as I can work out - from the air quality especially - we’re pretty far underground,” Ianto said. “I don’t even know how far we are from where we were taken, which doesn’t look good for our chances of rescue.”
Tosh spun back to face him, looking determined. “We’re not going to need rescuing. Not us. We can get out of this, just you watch.”
The torch beam swung across a light fitting, a bulb still slotted in, and Ianto started fiddling with it as Tosh continued her exploration with the torch.
She leaned into what was now evidently some sort of chute, looking up towards the daylight. She sighed and shook her head - it definitely didn’t look like a viable escape route to Ianto.
When she drew back, she lifted her hand into the light, wriggling her fingers in disgust. The light shone on them and Ianto bit back a gasp. The red smeared across them was unmistakeably blood. “This is not good,” she said quietly, holding her hand up.
“No.” Ianto resolutely did not think of where the blood could have come from, setting his concentration to trying to fix the light.
Tosh’s voice broke through a few minutes later. “Huh. That’s odd.”
“What is it?” He abandoned the light fixture - there was no way he was going to get it working, not without any tools - and crossed the room to join her.
“It’s a shoe,” Tosh replied, holding it out to him and flashing the torch across the floor where she’d found it.
Another shoe came into view. The another, and another. Ianto quickly lost count. “Oh God…”
Tosh dropped the shoe between them, gripping his shirtsleeve. “How many people have been kept down here?” she wondered aloud. Ianto really didn’t want to think about that - not if all that was left of them was their shoes.
At the end of the collection of shoes - when it reached the wall - there was what looked to Ianto like a full height fridge. Tosh let go of his arm and picked her way through the scattered shoes, opening the door.
She gasped, stepping back. “What is it, Tosh?” Ianto asked with trepidation.
She took another step back. “You don’t want to see.”
He carefully stepped forwards to stand beside her, looking into the still open fridge a metre in front of him.
He swallowed hard, clamping down on the nausea.
“That’s why the body was stripped right back like that; why there was nothing left,” Tosh choked out. “They needed to eat. We’re… we’re food.”
Ianto pushed the fridge door closed and looked around worriedly at the heavy door trapping them in. “But for what?”
When he found the answer to his question, barely half an hour later, he wished he had never even asked.
Chapter Sixty-Three
Comments and concrit are loved!