[Accidental Voice Post]
That's it. I can't, not any more.
There's no point.
[ooc: Ianto is affected by the Road Less Travelled curse! In this, he never came to Torchwood Three after Canary Wharf, and without the help needed, Lisa died anyway. And without her, or Torchwood, he believes that he has no reason to go on
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He was seriously hoping, not to have to use it.
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Jack broke cover and, decision made, he moved with surprising speed and grace for a man his size and was on Ianto in a blink, knocking the gun out of his hand.
Be glad that he used his hands and not that foot kick that he'd taught Ianto a few years back.
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"Get off me!" Ianto shrieked, obviously not caring about dignity or keeping it together as he struggled frantically to get free.
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With Ianto being more towards the slender side, as he'd known him in the beginning, wrestling with him was not the challenge it might have been if the man had been his 'healthy' weight. Still, Jack didn't want to hurt Ianto.
"Ianto! Relax, relax I'm not going to hurt you," he said in a strong, commanding voice, trying to get through to the man.
"Kyle! Get the gun."
Sorry Kyle, he knows you don't like them but right now getting it well away from Ianto is the most important thing.
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Once he had it, he took the clip out. Just in case.
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"I won't let you Retcon me!"
Yes, he wanted to die, but he wanted to die with his memories intact, thank you.
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"I'm not, I don't even have, would you stop squirming?!"
Don't think Jack wasn't marking down the level of emotional trauma that this particular curse was exposing Ianto to but at the same time, there was very little reasoning with the man.
"I'm ... I'm sorry," Jack said in between grunts as he tried to hold Ianto down.
>ZAP!<
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"Well that's going to make him trust us for sure," he said, wryly.
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"Wait till he wakes up in the vaults," Jack said, shifting Ianto to a fireman's carry and nodding for Kyle to take the lead back to the Jag.
Jack did not like seeing guns at the temple of people he cared about. At the moment he was having a nice flashback to the whole debacle with Alex and the feel of blood, bone and brain matter spattered across his face. He wasn't about to make the same mistake.
Ianto was going inna vault until midnight.
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Ianto was going to be upset and uncomfortable enough as it was. Kyle didn't want to agitate him further and it was a long ways until midnight.
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Distress.
Helplessness.
Hurt.
Haunted.
Resolute.
"Ever had someone blow their brains out in front of you, Kyle?" Jack asked. He knew, at some level, he was being hard on Kyle but in a way, in a fucked up way it was because he'd let Kyle in at some point. "The blood mixes with brain matter and sticks to your face and your hair, takes about 5 scrubs in the shower to get it out. Bone fragments, splinter in your cheek, your jaw, your lips and sometimes it can be days before you can dig them out. And no matter how tightly your mouth might have been closed, you taste it. The copper of blood and the bitter tang of brain matter for days, over everything else you try to eat or drink, that taste lingers."
Helplessness"He's going in the vault until midnight," and Kyle could be angry at Jack, Kyle could rail at Jack, in fact ... maybe it would help Ianto if he saw Kyle being angry at Jack but the older man ( ... )
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He didn't want to fight, not now with Ianto unconcious and not knowing them. So he closed his lips tight and opened the car doors, expecting Jack to ride in the back with Ianto.
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Sitting with Ianto's legs across his own, Jack rested his hand on the younger man's chest, a position that allowed him to feel the rapid beat of Ianto's heart and also keep him in place for the ride home.
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When they arrived he killed the engine and went ahead to unlock the door and send a quick message to Gwen.
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Listening to Kyle fill Gwen in on their status, Jack wasted no time in making his way into the house and down to the vaults. Picking one that had been recently cleaned and bio-hazard swept, he laid Ianto down on bench that ran along one wall.
Making a careful sweep from top to bottom in the room, he returned to the young Welshman and stripped off his watch, belt, shoelaces ... basically anything that could conceivably be used to harm himself.
Everything collected, he left the vault, locking the door behind him.
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