Fic: Coal-Black Cinder (S2: Chap 5, SoI 20), Jack/Ianto
Chapter Title: Coal-Black Cinder (S2: Chap 5, SoI 20)
Author: sarcasticchick
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Rating: R
Spoilers: TW S1
Fluffers/Betas: lilithilien, fivealive
Summary: Torched.Wood.
A/N: Thanks everyone for waiting a week for the post! Needed the time. As promised, a monster of a chapter. ;) And, while you're at it, clicky the d/l link! The fabulous misty_anne has done it...she's podcasted me! Seriously, the first chapter is up at that link. Feel free to d/l and listen - it makes me squeal and giggle like a little girl. mp3 Of White Noise! That's just too cool.
Split into two parts for size.
For Shades of Ianto series information, please see Prologue, Chapter 1
Previous Chapters:
Prologue: Chapters 1-7 (Complete)
Series1: Chapters 1-8 (Complete)
S2: Chap 1, SoI 16
S2: Chap 2, SoI 17
S2: Chap 3, SoI 18
S2: Chap 4, SoI 19
Ianto rang his father while he flipped through requisition forms and pages of chemical equations, symbols, diagrams, and notes that should have made sense but in the waking hours of the morning after yet another sleepless night, the numbers and letters might as well have been gibberish.
Broderick would be awake, though. He was always at his store at a ridiculous hour to get the shop ready for the day, but Ianto knew it was code for sampling the day's pastries with a fresh mug of coffee while reading a worn paperback novel.
Pleasantries out of the way, Ianto didn't wait for conversations about the weather, his job, or the number of sunny days in Cardiff. He didn't have time for that, not really. Not when he was preparing for battle. "Mom knew she was going to die, didn't she." Statement, not a question. It had taken Ianto a while to feel strong enough to sift through those memories of Avalon and the conversation with his father, but he'd finally filtered through them. Details about the assailant at the hospital were catalogued with the woman who had tried to take Rani -- neither Torchwood Four employees, but given the information about Tiffany Woodbridge, Ianto would say that Torchwood Four was recruiting. A frightening prospect. His father's lack of surprise, however, had been moved from the unexplained aspects of his father to the understood. "So it comes to this." "And she told you."
His father's silence was all the acknowledgment Ianto needed. Of course it wasn't outside the realm of possibility -- Ms. White had had clairvoyants living just a door away.
"What else did she tell you?" Ianto heard the voice of his father echo through his mind, forgotten shadows of the past. "But I know you'll do what's best." "What do you know?"
Ianto heard the distinct sounds of his father taking a drink of his coffee, reminding him of the pot kept warm on the counter in his kitchen. Owen had actually told him to lay off the coffee a bit after a physical revealed an elevation in blood pressure and borderline anemia. A product of stress, Ianto knew, but he had promised Owen to take better care of himself.
He chased an iron supplement with an entire pot of coffee that night, just to spite Owen.
"No more than you, I imagine."
Rubbing his temples, Ianto refrained from banging his head on the surface of the table. "She knew and did nothing to prevent it."
"Maybe she knew and did everything she could to ensure that it happened."
"What?" Ianto felt more than heard his voice escalate despite his best measures not to wake the individuals sleeping in the next room. Jack and Stephen had both grabbed available surfaces for sleep at various points in the night, after extracting confirmations from Ianto that he would get some rest as well. "Be careful, son." He refused to believe it. There was no ... she wouldn't have put the lives of the children at risk. She wouldn't have chosen that; Ianto knew with a certainty she wouldn't risk the children of Avalon. There had been far too many deaths -- Lana's club, at Avalon, the Guardians protecting those who wished not to stay at Avalon ... she wouldn't have made those sacrifices for sake of some greater good.
Speechless, Ianto sat back in his chair as he tried to formulate a response not crafted from caffeine-fueled nerves or the sugar buzz from the chocolate bar, certainly not on Owen's approved diet, registering but ignoring Stephen and Jack who had joined him in the kitchen. His stomach rolled as he considered the possibilities and all that had transpired during the tenure of Ms. White at Avalon and Torchwood, a notion so repulsive that Ianto could hardly choke out the words. "The Battle. Did she work to ensure Torchwood One's destruction as well?"
His father's sigh traveled through to Ianto's ear. "No future is certain, Ianto, you know this. Your mother made her choices and it's not up to you or I to determine which were right or wrong. How can we, since time is left before us, our own lives to live?"
Ianto stared at the door of his fridge, the white edges blurring and blending with its surroundings until just a fuzzy white mass was all that remained. Not a fridge, just a form lacking meaning when all the meaning was held within the name. Is that how his mother had viewed her life, decisions forming a path marked by blurred objects all interconnected and fluid? Even the Battle, small and minuscule when one stepped back from linear time to see the whole rather than the moment identified by a name.
He'd never felt so small. Or so lost. "Who are you, Dad?"
"Ah, but that's not the proper question," his father replied. "What you are asking, Ianto Llacheu Jones, is who are you, and that is an answer known only by you."
He hung up on his father, forgoing proper manners in his frustration. Ianto stared at the phone, hesitating for a moment before throwing it at the white mass; a refrigerator by name, a solid object capable of shattering electronics by occupation. He watched as the cordless broke, plastic parts splintering and flying in direction and speed proportioned to the velocity and angle in which it was thrown. The action cost Ianto his home phone, but at the same time, made him feel moderately better, though he was no closer to answers than when he had first phoned his father.
"Good morning to you, too, Sunshine," Jack drolled from the doorway, arms crossed and leaning so much like the Jack Ianto knew that he was once again almost fooled by the similarities. Stephen didn't say anything, just handed a broom to Ianto without question.
***
Ianto tuned out the recapped reports by Owen, Tosh, and Gwen as to Torchwood's preparation status. Following his discovery of the chemical composition of the fire's fuel and the beast itself, Owen had taken the alien DNA and the chemical formulas and created an enzyme he claimed would break down the peptide bonds of the alien but because of alien protein structures would remain inert when encountering anything native to earth. Ianto doubted the complete accuracy of the statement, but lab tests performed on various substances (including Owen's own skin in an act of defiance to Ianto's questions. "Oi! Who sat through dreadfully boring organic chemistry here, you or me? Right, that would be me. So sod off and stick to coffee.") demonstrated a relative truth to Owen's claims.
Owen hadn't been alone in his research. A geneticist recommended by Sheppard ("he's Scottish, you'll at least understand him when he gets excited") had assisted at Mr. Black's request, although everyone else believed him to simply be a native of Glasgow and knowledgeable in the field. Oddly enough, despite Owen's initial protests at having a secondary researcher on the project, the two had developed a remarkable rapport, even if their communications were via email and phone since Sheppard refused to permit his scientist to come to Cardiff ("he's been through enough, I'm not having him involved in any of the crazy shit you guys in Cardiff have going on").
Despite the directive of Torchwood, Ianto had believed the information far too important to maintain only within the lands of Britain. He had sent the formulas as well as the production notes and dispersal units to the twelve other nations within his small consortium. He hadn't told them what it was for specifically, only that he strongly advised the synthesis of the compound and engineering of the units in anticipation of a possible future invasion. The other leaders, amazingly, hadn't questioned his directive as they understood the secrecy and paranoia that they all operated under, only requested that they be informed if and when the invasion began. Ianto really didn't think that there'd be a doubt once it started.
If it did.
He was certain it would, just that it was a matter of time. It was nearly nine months since the destruction of Torchwood Four, over four months since he and Gwen had discovered the dragon in the pipes.
Ianto was surprised Jack was still around. His time, even if Ianto had held him to his agreement, had long expired. But he was still there, still leading Torchwood Three and believing Ianto's conviction that a battle was coming. He'd asked Ianto once about what he'd meant when Ianto had questioned his father about who he was. Whether Ianto was simply trusting Jack far more than he ought because the lines between his Jack and this one were becoming more blurred daily, or if it was simply because he had grown reckless following the continued stress of anticipation, Ianto had responded that he didn't know anything more than his father was not from this time. Jack had taken it in stride and, over far too many glasses of whiskey one night, created wild tales of who he might be, from banished tyrants to rogue sons of kings to lost travelers, each getting more absurd as Jack's imagination ran wild. Apparently, Jack had enough galactic experience to have a vivid imagination. And quite the romantic streak, truth be told. Ianto would never have pegged his Jack or this one to hold such values, but it snuck into conversation occasionally, making Ianto grin at the extremes within the stories. When Jack weaved Ianto's father into a sordid tale of a prince on the run from the blushing virgins he'd "educated" and in search of his one true love, Ianto had finally laughed at the absurdity between that idea and his father -- much to Jack's delight as he preened like his only goal had been to make Ianto laugh.
Perhaps, it had.
Jack confused Ianto, wavering between obsessed stalker, concerned "boss," and indifferent, arrogant self-righteous twat, as Owen preferred to call him. Jack continued to maintain that the team meant nothing, that he was still around only for the kids, but sometimes, like the occasions when Jack dragged him out of the Hub for dinner because Ianto needed to get out more or to Lana's recently rebuilt club (though she was leaning more towards karaoke instead of comedy, of all things, though some singers Ianto rather believed were comedy acts) or to Ianto's with Stephen to study and build strategy to defend Cardiff in case of attack, sometimes it made Ianto question the truth of Jack's denial and his motivations. Not that Ianto still believed them malicious, but he wondered why Jack still stayed, even after nine months.
Immersed in quiet contemplation, Ianto jumped at the sounds of the obnoxious ring bleating throughout the Hub. It was loud enough to disrupt their morning meeting, but then, Ianto had designed it that way.
His stomach sank into his shoes as he pushed aside his chair, racing for the phone that lit with each ring. Over, and over. The others were confused and shouting their questions over the loud tones; they hadn't even noticed the addition of the phone, but Ianto knew.
He knew it shouldn't be ringing.
Quickly, he recited his code, smiling a bit in response to the identifying code he received in return. "Sheppard. I take it this isn't a personal call?"
"Mr. Black, I don't suppose you're aware of two ships above Cardiff, are you?"
The dead weight of his stomach in his shoes was the only thing preventing him from racing to Tosh's desk to run a scan of the skies above their heads. That and the cord attached to the phone. He didn't understand it though; their equipment alerted them to anything foreign, especially now when Tosh had keyed it to its most sensitive levels. "Coordinates," Ianto demanded rather than asked, waving at Tosh to head to her set of computers. Ianto shouted Sheppard's answer to Tosh while he transferred the call to his mobile, racing to Tosh's workstation while Jack and the others gathered around. Tosh plotted them and ran varying scans, finally gasping when they revealed no ship, no substance, just a lack of anything in two areas of space. Two massive areas of nothing.
"We are now," Ianto deadpanned while Gwen swore and phoned Rhys to instruct him to come to Torchwood immediately. What good that would do when Torchwood would most likely be a primary target, Ianto wasn't sure, but he allowed Gwen the satisfaction of doing something with a possible threat looming above their heads. Tosh squeaked (Ianto was fairly certain Jean-Luc would find that "cute") and pointed out a third abnormality in the scans, different from the other two. "Are you sure you haven't missed one, Sheppard? Our reports say three."
"Ah, well, there's an explanation for that. Don't suppose you'll let me in?"
Ianto frowned in confusion a moment, then pushed through the others to access Owen's desk, pulling up the CCTV footage for all entrances to Torchwood Three. A lone man in a non-descript navy blue uniform stood near the invisible lift, a mobile in his hand. "Three paces to your left, Sheppard. Then don't move." Ianto watched as Sheppard moved to the stone that would lower him into the Hub and entered the code to activate the lift.
He moved quickly to intercept, smirking in response to Sheppard's "cool!" as the lift finally reached the floor of the Hub. The mental image Ianto held of Sheppard failed to match the man's physical presence; for all Ianto had envisioned a square-jawed, burly, grey-haired military commander with an ease borne of experience and skill, he found himself face to face with a deceptively lithe, younger (older than Ianto, but younger than his father) man with a shock of dark hair in a scattered mess rivaling Jack's and a patch over his left eye. Not what he'd been expecting, the eye patch made him appear more rogue pirate than ex-military, but something in the hardened, hazel eye said he'd seen far more than his look belied.
Perhaps some of those stories he had told Ianto were true.
"Welcome to Torchwood Three, Colonel Sheppard. Ianto Jones," Ianto introduced himself, noting the awareness in Sheppard's eyes at the sound of his voice. He smoothly supplied the necessary information and hoped that Sheppard would follow his lead. "Mr. Black is away, but I'll notify him that you're visiting."
"Ianto, who's your friend?" Jack called from the railing; Ianto didn't miss the scowl, nor the deceptively casual posture as he watched Ianto shook Sheppard's hand, one hand resting on his sidearm. "And what's he doing in my base?"
If Ianto didn't know any better, he'd call Jack's tone "jealous."
Sheppard winked and Ianto knew his secret was safe; a quick straightening of his shoulders and Ianto led Sheppard to the others, providing introductions. "This is Colonel John Sheppard--"
"Retired," John drawled, and Ianto again wondered what part of the United States he was from; he certainly didn't sound like Wilson but then, Wilson hadn't really had a particular accent, either.
"Retired Colonel John Sheppard," Ianto corrected, "head of Torchwood's equivalent in the United States, covername JEM Aeronautics. Sheppard, Captain Jack Harkness, leader of Torchwood Three, Owen Harper, Toshiko Sato, and Gwen Cooper. While Jack was away, I took the liberty of establishing contact with their base," Ianto added when he realized the others were looking at him dubiously. He'd neglected that piece of information in his sheer relief that the ships had been spotted, forgetting that all Owen and Tosh knew of the base in the States was that they were the ones who had sent Wilson to spy on them.
"Tosh, set up the system to alert if those ships move, then join us in the conference room," Jack ordered. "Ianto? Are you expecting any more guests?"
Definitely angry, Ianto decided as he shook his head "no," knowing that he should have informed Jack of the United States base and the emergency line. It just hadn't crossed his mind to do so, and now Jack was angry. Definitely angry. Rightfully so, if Ianto was no more than a tea-boy. Jack was never one to be played the fool.
"Then let's adjourn to the conference room, shall we? Ianto, coffee for our guest?"
And Ianto felt once against the same pangs of dismissal as he'd felt when he'd first met Jack Harkness and with Ms. White, relegated again to his place of the lowest denominator, not as though Jack believed that his position, but to exert authority in the presence of one of his equals. He understood Jack's intent this time, however, nodding and quickly leaving to phone Stephen and make him aware of the situation. This was not a time to be angry with petty titles, much less who was in charge or fetching the coffee. And as Ianto believed himself correct in thinking, no time to be wasted on arguments.
They were here. And Ianto could only pray they were ready.
***
"--unable to ascertain their intent, but their geosynchronous orbit over Cardiff and lack of communication with the surface led us to believe they might be the invasion Mr. Black had warned us about."
Ianto entered the conference room carefully balancing a tray of coffee (tea, for Tosh) in one hand, his phone in the other. Stephen was on the other line, having been quickly debriefed and awaiting transference to the conference phone. Before calling Stephen, Ianto had alerted UNIT and the RAF of a possible imminent attack, as well as the Queen, namely to make sure she was under protection since she gave Ianto full support of any resource he requested or alert he was to broadcast in case of emergency.
Pausing to think about it, Ianto realized how awesome a power that was and how much it frightened him to wield it.
"Mr. Black for you, Colonel Sheppard," Ianto said by way of introduction, linking Stephen in through the polycomm in the conference room.
Sheppard smiled at Ianto and greeted "Mr. Black" over the speakerphone. "I was just updating your team on the situation. Twenty-four hours ago, we detected two anomalies approaching Earth at speeds inconsistent with asteroid or comet activity. Once the target location had been pinpointed, we dispatched our ship, the Spes Nostra, to monitor their approach. After we had confirmation of arrival, I contacted Torchwood Three via our emergency communication system."
There was silence before Stephen (Mr. Black) spoke up. "You have a ship?"
***
Tosh's alert sounded while they were eating an early lunch, or rather, while everyone enjoyed their pizza in the conference room and Ianto sat far removed from them all, drinking a coffee and eating the salad Tosh had brought for her own lunch before Jack had decided they needed take-away and Sheppard had chosen pizza as their guest. He'd heard Sheppard questioning after him, Owen answering that he had an aversion to pizza, for medical reasons, and Sheppard's questions stopped.
At times, Ianto almost liked Owen.
Ianto dropped his fork back into the salad and was the first to Tosh's computer, pulling up the radar images of dozens of blobs separated from the two positions in space Tosh had identified as the alien craft (not picked up on radar, but circled all the same). The blobs quickly dispersed out of range, but six remained in Cardiff airspace.
Sheppard was speaking into a communications device with Ianto assumed was his ship, Gwen clung to Rhys (their wedding couldn't have been better planned, Ianto thought, just a week away), Tosh held on to Jack's shirt and Owen ... well, Owen was finishing his slice of pizza like he'd never see pizza again.
Quite the chance, actually.
Not wanting to wait for the images to appear on the CCTV, Ianto ran for the Hub door, trailed by the rest of the team who seemed to be following just to have something to do rather than stare at the dots on the radar. They all crammed into the lift (Ianto was fairly certain it wasn't made for seven adults but it didn't plummet to the lowest level, so he assumed the cables were stronger than the warning label listed), bodies pressing against bodies but no one spoke a word. No one needed to. The breathing was loud, however, drowning the silence in adrenaline-fueled pants. He was almost certain he could hear the heartbeats race in anticipation, but surely that was a trick of Ianto's ears. Gwen was in a panic -- she had seen what Ianto had seen had was rightfully frightened but the others ... they had no idea. They were waiting to see if it was as big a threat as Ianto had deemed it.
Big, literally. Even Jack was skeptical.
The lift dinged their arrival to the surface and they all ran down the hall and out the Information Center to stare at the sky. They weren't the only ones; passersby stopped and stared too once they realized people were looking into the skies, curious by nature to see what was attracting attention.
They weren't difficult to spot, the blips from the radar. Against a startling blue sky, the oblong shapes were easy to find, growing larger as they plummeted towards the ground, burning white-red with the heat of entry. Someone started screaming; Ianto didn't bother to determine who it was, it wasn't really important anyway. But once that one individual started, the chorus joined as the wave traveled down the street. Terror jumped from person to person like a twisted game of phone gossip Ianto had played as a child, repeating itself down the line until the person screaming really had no concept why they were screaming, it just seemed appropriate to add to the cacophony. He could hear screams all around, echoing mass fear he hadn't witnessed since Torchwood One, echoing a fear he hadn't felt since Torchwood One. Not the Brecons, not the sewers, not any of the lesser aliens and demons they'd faced nor the labs at Torchwood Four; nothing held a candle to the strangling grasp of fear as it clawed at the throat and turned hope to ash.
The others, they thought they knew. They thought they understood. Maybe Abaddon had come close. But one can't witness the aftermath or read a report and feel that same trapped, ultimate terror for one's self, for one's family and friends, and for those all over the world that one had never met and probably never would but shared in exchange of breath and life the same time, the same space. That feeling of unity with all the peoples of Earth, an undercurrent of existence, threatened by the witness of an unbeatable foe.
If they didn't understand it before, they would feel it now.
Ianto felt others stand beside him, Jack at his right shoulder (he could smell Jack's aftershave), Sheppard at his left (a block of navy blue, a uniform if Ianto tore his focus from the sky). He could hear Tosh and Owen behind them above the din of terror filling the streets. Gwen and Rhys stood beside Tosh, standing more a single unit than two -- Ianto didn't need to see to know, nor did he need Jean-Luc's gifts; if his Jack were standing beside him instead of the other Jack, Ianto could see himself doing something similar, even if it was just to touch Jack's greatcoat.
Pathetic, he knew, and far beneath his title. But the Ianto of old, the Ianto with fewer responsibilities and naivety on his side, that Ianto still existed somewhere beneath the aged shell hardened by Torchwood. And that Ianto trembled as he watched.
God, he wished his Jack was there.
He wished Ms. White was still alive.
Actually, Ianto just wished he was wrong. Maybe he was.
"Jack..."
The sound of Gwen's voice drew Ianto from his wishes to the heavens; the white-hot oblong objects now cooled to a metallic dark silver sheen glinting sun off their curves.
It was a sunny day in Cardiff, Ianto's mind rebelled. This should not be happening on a sunny day in Cardiff.
Ianto saw what Gwen's voice had feared, a split running the length of the object, visible despite the distance. God, they were large and moving at speeds Ianto's mind could only calculate as "fast," if he had time to figure the trajectory and triangulate from his position and another point, but the objects were falling at too fast a rate, velocity setting course for impact with the Bay. It wasn't the landing that concerned Ianto, though, no matter how large the impact and subsequent shockwaves. The split worried him, pictures of napalm bombs burning across his mind like wildfire. They shouldn't be standing there, watching. They should be down in the relative protection offered by the Hub, preparing to battle whatever was coming. But his knees were locked, his feet rooted to the pavement, and Ianto couldn't help but stare along with everyone else.
Some protection Torchwood was against alien threat, staring into the skies like watchers of a train wreck.
It wasn't fuel that poured out of the split as Ianto had initially believed, a precursor to an explosion the likes of which Cardiff had never seen, nor would ever be aware of given that the combination of six explosions would obliterate all of Southern Britain, much less Cardiff. No, as the silver sides opened innocent as a ladybird taking off for flight, Ianto was certain of one thing.
He was right.
The halves fell away, shed armor no longer needed for protection as the threats revealed themselves in black-red blossoms unfurling in the sky. Their wingspans were massive, Ianto estimated at least forty meters as they spun out from their cocoon and soared on drafts of wind. Black wings, talon-tipped, stretched thin over a ribbed skeletal structure like the corset Gavin had purchased for Elaine after asking Ianto's opinion while shopping in London (that conversation had been awkward at best, but Gavin swore later that the purchase had resulted in the twins. Far more information than any brother or uncle needed to know).
The black bled into crimson over the expanse of the beast's chest, proud and bold and making no effort to blend into the sky as the scarlet streaked up its neck. Warriors, Ianto noted, catching the first glimpse of the alien's head. unlike the few that had been on Earth for some time, pale to be mistaken for clouds in the sky. The head was a massive onyx block of bone and flesh, looking much like what Ianto had imagined a dragon to look like only with a protruding forehead framed by what looked like horns. A monstrous mouth filled with pointed teeth opened to let loose a roar that quaked the ground Ianto stood upon; the answering bellows shattered store fronts and rattled the autos in the streets.
Ianto hated being right.
The beasts fanned out over the city, one angling towards the Information Center where Ianto stood with the others. Someone had a hand in the back of his jacket, he assumed it was Tosh as Gwen had Rhys and Owen ... Ianto felt it best not to consider that it was Owen.
"Ianto. Don't suppose your base is fireproof?"
Ianto jumped at the sound of Sheppard's drawl, pulling his eyes away from the dragon's forelimbs (not at all like a Tyrannosaurus Rex, these were proportionately long and clawed) to nod at Sheppard. "Yes." Belatedly, he realized they were standing in the open, an easy target for the approaching alien. Put him in danger and he froze. He was rubbish at this leading thing. "Yes, of course. Quickly."
It didn't take much to get the team moving once the question had been raised; all of them remembered Gwen and Ianto's report. Sprinting for the Information Center's door, Ianto jerked it open and ushered everyone in, keeping a watchful eye on the dragon that was far larger than the one in the sewers could have been. This one was built for war, down to its clubbed tail -- not aerodynamic by any means, but then, they didn't have to be built for speed.
A black-red dragon.
The color of the icing dragon on his birthday cake almost two years ago.
He didn't have time to contemplate the coincidence, just pushed the heavy door leading to the lift shut as the Information Center burst into flames.
***
"We're tracking six dragons in Cardiff, five en route to London. Ianto? What's the status of UNIT and the RAF?"
Ianto joined the conversation at Tosh's desk, having used the excuse to notify the military units to alert all of the nations on the emergency band from the conference room. Hopefully he'd given them enough warning to be be prepared.
But really, how does one prepare for dragons?
"Deploying squadrons armed with munitions filled with the enzyme as well as standard missiles." Ianto took the proffered canisters and hefted the straps over his shoulders. He felt like a fucking Ghostbuster with this setup (wouldn't Jean-Luc be amused?), but the packs had been one of the few methods of effective pedestrian delivery they came up with in the relatively short amount of time they had to prepare. Trials with launched weaponry failed, the heat generated by the launch destroyed the enzyme. The only thing that had worked were the modified flame throwers and slingshot-style delivery of the enzyme. Given they had no information on the protection or armor of the aliens, they hadn't wanted to depend solely on standard issue weaponry, though when they'd seeded the city with caches of weapons, Ianto had made sure they were well supplied with arms that, in Jack's terms, "made things go boom." But their first line of defense was the enzyme -- if it worked, though Owen and his Scottish cohort assured them it would.
The absurdity of the plan did not escape Ianto: they were going to fight dragons with water balloons. His nephews would be so proud.
"Sheppard?"
"My ship's staying in orbit over Cardiff," Sheppard said as he slung a sack of the "balloons" over his shoulder. His ship had some how teleported all of his gear into the Hub, from TAC vest to what looked like semi-automatic guns. Ianto still wasn't sure how that had worked but when he'd asked Sheppard, the man had just smirked. Damned national secrets. "A dozen pods are headed towards North America, but in response to Mr. Black's emergency broadcast, the U.S. and Canada have already launched intercepts. My crew's trying to figure a way past the two cloaked ships' shields, but so far, they haven't had much luck."
Ianto found himself on the receiving end of Jack's stare, not quite as intimidating knowing that this wasn't the Jack stare of old, but unnerving all the same. The man was plotting something and it didn't escape Ianto that this would be a most inopportune time for Jack to choose to leave. He could, Ianto knew; there was nothing tying Jack to this time and he'd long since stayed past his initial six month agreement. When they struck the streets, Torchwood Three would be left vulnerable to Jack or alien attack. Lacking alternative, Ianto returned the stare, hoping Jack would understand the lengths Ianto would go to seeking revenge if Jack should choose this moment to leave. At one time, his sister had threatened it, but Ianto was rather confident in himself that he would carry through if Jack ran now.
"Where is Mr. Black?" Gwen chimed in, splitting her attention between Ianto and Jack. The tension wasn't surprising; Ianto and Jack had been at odds since Jack had "returned," at least through the eyes of the others. But that Gwen would attempt to diffuse it, that was different.
"Returning from business in Glasgow. He should arrive in Cardiff shortly," Ianto supplied, not once looking away from Jack. To his credit, Jack never turned away either.
"Tosh and Owen, head to Cardiff Castle -- yes, Owen, you're going to fight dragons from a castle. If your position is compromised, your secondary location is Llandaff Cathedral. Gwen and Rhys, you're with me. We'll start with the beast who had the gall to destroy our Information Center." Jack paused, whether for dramatic effect or hesitation, Ianto wasn't sure. "Ianto, you're with Sheppard. Head east towards Splott and Rumney. Hopefully we can stave off the worst of it till the cavalry arrives."
His first impulse was to protest, strong as it was Ianto had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep himself silent. He was being separated from the team, and most importantly, from monitoring Jack. Every instinct, every cell of his being violently protested Jack's order, which Ianto could counter-instruct if he chose. He knew he could, could demand Jack stay with him, and send Gwen and Rhys off with Sheppard. But, he realized what Jack was asking.
Trust him.
Trust him not only to stay and fight, but trust his decisions. Jack could go with Ianto, but Ianto knew the captain didn't trust Sheppard to watch out for one Torchwood and one civilian. Ianto could go with them, but he couldn't maintain communications and coordinate the global response to the alien threat as Mr. Black unless he revealed it to Gwen, a prospect not exactly pleasing. Which left him joining Sheppard. And leaving Jack, trusting him with the team, trusting him with Torchwood Three, trusting him with Ianto's Jack.
Ianto wanted to, he really did. If it was his Jack, he'd trust without question in this situation. But Cardiff would burn, and he really didn't have another option.
He nodded, casting a glance at Tosh's monitor for the dragon's locations in the city. "The lift to the Plass looks clear, they seemed to be aware of the Information Center but not the Hub's location. I'll take Sheppard through the other exit, it'll sneak us into Splott."
"I thought there were only two entrances into Torchwood Three?"
Tosh was cute when she was perplexed, Ianto decided, making a mental note to share the image with Jean-Luc, perhaps minus the "cute" label as Jean-Luc was not a happy jealous man. Not that Ianto had any deigns on Tosh, but he could appreciate why Jean-Luc was so smitten. He smiled, refusing to comment on how or why he knew; they most certainly did not need a reminder of Lisa at this time. "I'll show you when we get back."
The group stood in silence, staring at each other as if everyone realized at the same time that this could be the last time they stood together. There were dragons topside; it wasn't every day one went to battle with beasts taller than a greater percentage of the buildings who breathed fire and wrecked destruction where they went.
"So, I'm supposed to say something inspirational and motivating, aren't I?" Jack asked, the frozen moment broken as shaky laughter filled the room. "Maybe a prayer?"
"Oi, a prayer from you, Harkness? You're--"
Ianto cleared his throat, cutting off Owen's tirade before the insults flew and they forgot to leave. He grabbed a "balloon" from Tosh's desk and began, struggling all the while to maintain a steady voice. "Oh Lord, bless this thy hand grenade, that with it thou mayest blow thine enemies to tiny bits, in thy mercy."
Tosh's laughter shook the room, loud and echoing in the confused silence that followed. Trust Tosh to recognize the quote. She'd been around for the display at Torchwood Four, after all. Stepping forward, Tosh kissed his cheek, giggling all the while. "Just a harmless little bunny."
He winked and gave her a quick hug, awkward as it was with all their equipment and weapons. "Come back to us, Toshiko Sato," he quoted back, letting her go, hoping without doubt that his words would come true. If for nothing else, for Jean-Luc. He stood warily, watching with an arched brow as Owen's face cascaded through a variety of expressions until he finally cursed and hugged Ianto like he was a prickly hedgehog, stepping away nearly as quickly.
"I'm shite with burns. Don't get torched."
Coming from Owen, that could be a declaration of love. Ianto just grinned and shrugged away his surprise, tossing the extra "balloon" to the doctor. "Let's hope this miracle of yours works."
Gwen's stranglehold came next; Ianto knew she hadn't forgotten their adventures in the sewers. At least she'd have Jack and Rhys looking out for her, or rather, at least Rhys had her looking out for him. Above her head, he noticed Jack and Sheppard exchanging words, but he couldn't read their lips from that angle, and Gwen was distracting him anyways. "Take care of each other," Ianto gestured at both Rhys and Gwen, and the serious smiles said it all. "You have a wedding to attend in a week, don't want to be late for your own ceremony."
Rhys distracted Gwen with threats if she was late to her own wedding and Tosh and Owen exchanged hugs with the couple as well. It was funny, they faced life and death every day, this should be nothing new. Throwing themselves out in the line of fire, protecting the innocent inhabitants, it was common, really. But this, this was different. Ianto could taste it in the air (along with the faint hint of smoke from the burning Information Center, separated as they were by stone and a firedoor), he could feel the tension and the apprehension. The others realized, despite all their other earlier experiences, that this wasn't a game. The thrill was gone from their job. They finally understood. And perhaps that was a little bit scary. This was something he'd missed at Torchwood One, however, as coworkers had panicked and run screaming into the halls despite their experience. One never knew how they'd react to unimaginable terror. Torchwood Three was learning.
There was only Jack left of the team, and Ianto made no movement to broach the distance between he and Jack. Jack's conversation with Sheppard had ended and now it was just a return to staring; the others seemed to notice as well as the din grew quiet, the only sounds the steady trickle of water down the fountain into the pool. Ianto moved first, extending his hand to Jack in the only fashion he knew acceptable given the circumstances. It wasn't Jack. No matter how he wished him to be, this wasn't the man he had grown to care for, though the past months had given him more reason to care for the elder, if that were possible. He didn't like trusting Jack to the team, he didn't like leaving Jack to his own devices, but it was Jack and he had stayed when he could have left. Ianto at least had to commend the honor in that decision.
Honor seemed displaced as Jack refused Ianto's hand, opting instead to roughly pull him forward. Unbalanced by the equipment and the force, Ianto found himself in Jack's arms, hands holding his jaw steady as Jack pressed a hard kiss to his lips, moving so quickly Ianto had little time to react in protest or agreement. The lips were gone before Ianto could even blink in surprise; just a fleeting action, Ianto would question its actual existence if not for the silence in the Hub.
"Good luck," was all Ianto could think to respond, nodding once at Jack before he gestured for Sheppard to follow him into the lower levels of Torchwood Three towards the tunnels that would lead them to Splott.
It wasn't his Jack, but as Ianto licked his lips, he realized he still tasted the same.
***
"So, you and Jack?"
Ianto would have stumbled if not for Sheppard's steadying hand as they scrambled over the debris of a fallen housing unit. "No." Dusting off his suit trousers, Ianto amended, "Yes. In the past."
A dragon had certainly tore through the area prior to Sheppard and Ianto arriving, and for that Ianto was both frustrated and relieved. Frustrated they missed the beast, relieved that they did. He shouldn't feel that way -- he knew it was his duty to protect the citizens of Britain but guiltily, he felt a bit of relief for the reprieve, short but it might be. He'd be lying to himself to say otherwise.
"What happened?"
Stepping over charred ruins, Ianto considered the question. "He changed." Which, he did. On a time-scale.
"I changed into a bug once."
Ianto couldn't help but blink in surprise. Following conversations with Sheppard was nearly as difficult as Jack, though usually Jack's leaps in thought maintained a semblance of human normality, even if it did involve sex in impossible positions with multi-limbed aliens.
"What?" Sheppard grinned and adopted the worst English accent Ianto had ever heard. "I got better!"
Smiling despite himself, and not wanting to believe Sheppard for a moment, but at the same time, the manner in which he was accepting all the strangeness of the day led Ianto to believe that this was not an extraordinary circumstance. In fact, Sheppard seemed almost comfortable with it all. "Is that how you .. ?" Ianto touched his eye and gestured towards Sheppard's patch.
"Lost a bet, had to play pirates for the month." At Ianto's disbelieving look, Sheppard turned away, scanning the skies and the surface for what Ianto assumed was the dragon they tracked. "We became overconfident, overstepped our knowledge. We lost the city, but managed to save our people. An eye was a small price."
This time, it was Ianto who lent the hand when Sheppard started an ungainly slide down a pile of rubble. Ianto waited until Sheppard had found his balance again before checking his PDA for an update on Tosh's tracking program. Pointing in the new direction, Ianto shifted the pack on his shoulders and continued walking. "We lost nearly 800 when our arrogance superseded logic. For Queen and country." With a snort, Ianto tapped his PDA, pulling up the contact information for the twenty-four other survivors, staring at the numbers. He didn't need the device for recall, but it was good to stop and ponder the decision, seeing the names written in text like stars on a nameless monument. Forget the rebuilding of Torchwood One; he had a job for those in London.
"You're a lot older than you look, Mr. Black," Sheppard commented after a moment, pausing as they stopped for breath, the weight of their packs and weapons more than either was used to carrying.
Ianto grinned. "And you're a lot younger than you sound."
Sharp, barking laughter filled the air as Ianto punched in the first number.
***
"Remind me of the plan?"
Ianto dove out of the way as a section of the wall they were using as a shield collapsed. Sheppard landed right beside him, a louder thump as debris bounced off Ianto's back and shoulders -- mostly tiny particles but occasionally something larger struck him. He would be one massive bruise come morning, if they survived. A quick glance at Sheppard confirmed the man's state of relative good health; they were both covered in grime, small cuts, and coal-black cinder, but they were alive. "Head east. Defend Earth from alien invasion."
"Just making sure we weren't deviating." Sheppard grimaced and rolled to a seated position. Ianto took a deep breath then followed suit, rubbing a shoulder as he stood to look out the glassless window. The dragon had moved away from them for the moment, colliding with trees and crashing into buildings blindly. People were still running in a panic on the streets, but for the moment, the massive beast's attention was not on them; not while its leathery skin bubbled and oozed, its massive head thrashing wildly as it clawed at sightless eyes. It had seemed a good idea at the time: shoot the enzyme at the creature's eyes since they didn't have nearly enough to do immediate damage to outright kill the beast. The enzyme worked just as it was supposed to, destroying the proteins of the dragon hide; there was just a lot of dragon to chew through.
Of course, once the animal was blind, Splott became the blind bull's china shop. A problematic solution, at best.
Ianto had located one of the caches of weapons, sealed behind locks the best thieves of Cardiff couldn't pick. They'd nearly exhausted the supply of ammunition fighting the dragon, bullets bouncing harmlessly off the dragon's hide until the enzyme had opened a patch, revealing the tissue to injury. Took a lot of bullets, though, and even with the help of a few brave citizens of Splott who insisted on picking up a gun and firing as well (Ianto's weapons training had not possessed Jack's seductive flair, mostly consisting of "safety off. Point. Shoot. Don't die.") they had yet to actually kill the beast. The rows of housing units had suffered for the battle; the bulging bony mass on the dragon's head acted as a battering ram, as did the club tail. Not to mention, the creature had a blast range of about fifty meters with its stream of fire. Took three minutes to recharge, but at this rate, there would be little left of Splott if they didn't bring down the beast.
George (at least Ianto thought that was his name, he couldn't keep the three men straight in his head what with the angry, injured dragon intent on killing them. He remembered Dolly, though, the brazen woman who'd come running out of her store front like a hellion, angry and shooting at the dragon after it had destroyed her store's sign. Ianto rather liked her) waved at Ianto and Sheppard from his sheltered location behind another ruined building; Ianto gave a half wave in return, acknowledging that they were okay. The man's eyes widened almost comically; Ianto thought it was just an expression, but no, the man's eyes grew almost larger than his face as he looked not at Ianto but up. Ianto closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then turned and looked up at the sky, the roof long torn away by the tail of their dragon Sheppard had taken to calling "Tim."
Dragons in full view were actually larger than they appeared.
This one (not Tim, gods, they'd gotten another) hovered above the structure, wings fanning a breeze reeking of sulfur and burnt timber, heated to a point just about boiling like the burn of jet engines from a hundred paces. Ianto felt the distinct reversal in the air current and grabbed onto Sheppard's uniform, pulling him to his feet and at an angle perpendicular to the dragon's aim. "Move!"
They sprinted over rubble, hurdling interior walls and furniture as the air exploded behind them. Clearing the structure, Ianto skidded to a halt, pointing to the right as Tim roared and backpedaled in agony, its taloned feet blocking their path and coming perilously close to squashing Ianto where he stood.
A scream of another sort drew Ianto's attention as he and Sheppard ran, angling in the direction of the remains of their weapons cache. The sounds of the fighter jets attracted the focus of the healthy dragon as well, and it launched itself into the skies towards the aerial resistance. The steady thumping rhythm of helicopter blades joined the symphony, music to Ianto's ears -- they were having enough difficulty with one injured dragon, much less two. And they were out of the enzyme, the flame throwing pack discarded long ago, their supply of "balloons" exhausted as well, splattered about Tim's hide and eyes.
Ducking under the broken, sagging door frame, Ianto scanned the remaining weapon as he absently answered his ringing phone. Rapid, excited Mandarin filled his ear and he calmly offered his advice to the Chinese leader on how to handle the four dragons in the skies of Beijing, all the while frantically searching for anything which would finally put an end to their battle with Tim. The Chinese government was hesitant to fire upon the dragons; Ianto did his best to dispel any notion of legend and tradition. The dragons were not gods nor spirits of ancestors nor champions of animal-kind. Ending the call with a terse "just kill the damned fire-breathing aliens" (roughly translated, of course. Ianto hoped the meaning was still applicable in Mandarin as it was intended), Ianto crowed his success as he held up a bazooka; ducking when Sheppard turned his gun on him and started firing. Not at him, Ianto noticed with a distinct lack of pain following the rapid gunfire and after he remembered to breathe, but beside him. Behind him. Ianto turned and stared at the Weevil lying in a bloody mess on the floor.
"What the fuck is that thing?"
"Weevil," Ianto said as he kicked the creature to make sure it was dead. Of course, a battle for the rights to Earth would not be complete without Weevils to complicate matters. Really, while the Earth was open and available for the taking, why not post an intergalactic sign pointing to Earth with a discount price blinking and squatter's rights for the unclaimed areas. "Denizens of the underground. Usually they're not out in daylight." Scowling, Ianto hefted the bazooka over his shoulder, grabbing the case of missiles to arm it. "Usually it's a bag and save, but at the moment, we hardly have the time to subdue, let alone cage."
An explosion in the skies caused both Ianto and Sheppard to look up after they left the ruins of the shelter, armed to the teeth with what few weapons remained. The dragon still flew ("Bill," Sheppard had named it) while fire and smoke danced on the wind, the remains of an aircraft tumbling to the ground.
"Shit."
Ianto nodded, setting the heavy case on the ground, their dragon still bouncing off buildings and running over autos like a bloody pinball machine. It launched a plume of fire wildly, luckily hitting nothing of consequence as the air burned. There were still jets in the skies, firing missile after missile, some loaded with the enzyme, some not. From Bill's pained roars, it sounded like damage was being wrought, but as they'd learned, a lot was required to take these things down.
His phone rang again, this time Germany on conference with France and Egypt, sharing their success in garbled streams of half-English and the language of the speaker's choice. They had tracked two dragons over Syrian and Iranian airspace; both France and Egypt had sent support to help defend those nations. Germany had launched planes of their own to assist Russia and the Scandinavian countries under attack. Their victories had not been without loss, but as Ianto discharged his gun into two charging Weevils threatening Sheppard as he loaded the rocket launcher, he realized that they might very well be winning this battle.
At the sounds of close gunfire, the leaders of Germany, France, and Egypt all began offering their assistance to Britain, willing to spare whatever forces necessary to help with the onslaught of over a dozen dragons terrorizing the single country. Ianto thanked them, but insisted they help the countries without military air support as the skies were fairly crowded over Cardiff and London (and hopefully Glasgow as well; he had yet to hear anything from Torchwood Two and he grew concerned).
He hung up in time to hear Sheppard shout at "yipee-ki-yay, mother fucker" (trust Sheppard to be a fan of John McClane) as he fired the bazooka at Tim. Ianto was so focused watching the trail of smoke as it spun towards dragon that the shockwave and blast from the skies knocked him to his knees. He looked up in time to see the remnants of a massive explosion not far above their heads, the jets and helicopters streaking away as fast as possible.
Holy shite. They'd killed Bill.
A secondary explosion rattled Ianto's ears just fractions of a second after the air had exploded above their heads, Sheppard's rocket had hit its target, ripping one wing clean off and tearing a gaping hole in the other. Ianto almost pitied the beast, thrashing about as it was and keening in pain. Almost, until the clubbed tail swept over his and Sheppard's heads, both men falling flat to the ground to protect themselves. Ianto grabbed the bazooka once the tail had found a building to thump, satisfying Tim's need for destruction for the time being. Quickly, Ianto prepped the launcher with the one remaining rocket, hoping that George and Dolly and the others were out of the immediate danger zone.
With Sheppard shouting curses behind him (at least, Ianto thought they were curses; sound was rather spotty), he darted towards Tim, firing his gun to attract the attention of the blind alien. Ears still ringing from the previous explosions, Ianto shouted taunts at the dragon while he fired bullets into the steaming, bubbling mass of flesh being consumed by the enzyme. The smell was terrible this close, the sour, rotting fumes coming off the dragon enough to make him vomit, but Ianto refrained, focusing instead on causing enough noise to distract the dragon from its pain. Sure enough, his plan worked and as Sheppard caught up to him, Ianto hoisted the weapon to his shoulder, waiting for the precise moment...
Between facing down the barrel of a gun and the stretched, toothed jaws of a dragon, Ianto would have to opt for the gun as his preferred method of sheer terror with the knowledge of possible imminent death. Tim's neck swung and stretched towards the sounds of Ianto's voice and as Ianto distractedly noted that the beast's throat was a bright shade of green, he pressed the trigger on the bazooka. He felt the recoil of the launcher as arms wrapped around his waist and Sheppard yelled in his ear. The curling trail of smoke from the missile formed a circle from Ianto's point of view and as it flew towards the green target, Ianto closed his eyes, pretending for a moment the arms around his waist were someone else's.
***
The shock of cool air forced Ianto's eyes open and he looked about in surprise, smelling the acrid smoke from the bazooka still resting on his shoulder but no hint of sulfur and, most importantly, feeling no percussion blast.
"Welcome aboard the Spes Nostra, Ianto."
Still reeling from the change of environment to answer Sheppard, Ianto turned slowly to take in his surroundings, noting that Sheppard's hands were nearly as slow in pulling away from the grip about his waist. He was on a ship, the Bridge, if Ianto wasn't mistaken. The first thing he noticed was a panoramic view of Earth in her full splendor out the main window, looking innocent and pure in her blue-white-green marbled curve. Ianto stared, his breath struck by the sight, the ringing in his ears dulling as he heard a female voice asking questions and poking and prodding the observable injuries to Ianto's skin, the weapon on his shoulder disappearing to assist her efforts.
Other men and women, all dressed in the same navy blue uniform, raced about while frantically inputting data into tablet PCs and ship consoles unlike any Ianto had seen before -- not that he frequently boarded space ships to know what typical consoles looked like, but they definitely did not appear of Earth origin. An argument between a pony-tailed man and a man with a slightly receding hairline erupted in one corner; Ianto wasn't sure what it was about but he did have to smile at the creative derogatory terms the one used to insult the intelligence of the pony-tailed man. Something about the alien ships' shields, impervious to any weapon on board the Spes Nostra, though the pony-tailed man argued that until they tried, they'd never know. Ianto found himself agreeing with the other's belief that to give away their position in space would be an irrevocable error, and almost added his comment when the fiery physician snapped another question at him.
"I'm fine, thank you for your concern. Please, if you'll excuse me." Turning to find Sheppard in heated conversation with another man, remarkably tall and clad in not the navy blue uniforms of the others but in leather and tunic revealing scattered tattoos and a few scars. He reminded Ianto of a lion with his mane of dreds and fierce expression. The conversation between he and Sheppard ended as Ianto approached. Ianto would have felt guilty for interrupting, but he had other concerns on his mind once he got past the shock and awe of "I'm on a fucking space ship!" "Sheppard? I can't thank you enough for your crew's timely intervention, but I can't stay. If you'll please return me to Cardiff, I'm assuming what brought me here can send me back?"
The other man grunted and turned away, leaving an amused Sheppard behind. "He likes you."
Ianto wasn't quite sure how to respond. "I ... yes, well, pass my sincere thanks." Somehow, despite the cuts and bruises and ash, Sheppard still looked remarkably collected and calm. Ianto wondered if he exuded the same aura, or if that was something won by age and experience, not just the luck Ianto seemed to run on. Sheppard appeared to consider Ianto's request, like there was an option to his response, and Ianto's patience grew thin. "You have no right to keep me here."
Sheppard paused as he took the two bottles of water offered by one of his crew, passing one on to Ianto. He took a long pull from the bottle before answering. "I made a promise, you know. If you were in danger, I was to protect you through any means necessary. Including safe retreat aboard my ship."
Indignant fury boiled through Ianto, leaving him momentarily speechless as he scrolled through all the possible forms of painful retribution he would exact upon one Captain Jack Harkness when he returned to Earth. So that had been the purpose of Jack and Sheppard's conversation: to make sure Ianto was carefully tucked away while Britain burned and fell to the conquests of their alien invaders. "I swore an oath when I accepted my position, Sheppard," Ianto seethed with anger but he maintained a steady, cool voice, "to protect the peoples of Britain through any means required. I will not cower in fear while my country suffers attack from bloody fluffy bunnies or monstrous fire-breathing dragons!" So much for the steady cool, Ianto absently noted while his voice escalated and the others stopped to stare at the argument. "I demand return immediately or I will commandeer your bloody ship and steer it back to Cardiff myself. Have I made myself clear?"
A delighted smirk grew on Sheppard's face and Ianto was torn between hitting the man and doubting his ability to deliver a proper threat. "I figured you'd say that. S'why I asked Ronon to grab his coat."
The tall, fierce man returned, apparently this Ronon as he was now clad in a leather duster-looking coat and wielding an unusual gun that his Jack would probably drool over. "Can I kill things now?" Ronon's voice was more a low growl, unsurprising really given his appearance. Ianto was more surprised by how eager the man was to join the fight against the dragons. "I"m tired of doing nothing."
Someone handed Sheppard six new guns, Ianto assumed fully loaded with spare magazines tucked in the pockets of the new TAC vests that were given to both Sheppard and Ianto. Ianto slipped it on over the soiled, nearly black shirt that had once been white and stopped fiddling with the clasps as Sheppard batted his hands away, securing the vest properly.
"We've located part of your team on an airstrip. My crew will drop us off there; no need to commandeer my ship." Sheppard grinned at the thought. "And yes, Ronon. You can kill things."
Ianto heard the man grunt in response before the air shimmered around him and the ship disappeared.
Part 2
Author: sarcasticchick
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Rating: R
Spoilers: TW S1
Fluffers/Betas: lilithilien, fivealive
Summary: Torched.Wood.
A/N: Thanks everyone for waiting a week for the post! Needed the time. As promised, a monster of a chapter. ;) And, while you're at it, clicky the d/l link! The fabulous misty_anne has done it...she's podcasted me! Seriously, the first chapter is up at that link. Feel free to d/l and listen - it makes me squeal and giggle like a little girl. mp3 Of White Noise! That's just too cool.
Split into two parts for size.
For Shades of Ianto series information, please see Prologue, Chapter 1
Previous Chapters:
Prologue: Chapters 1-7 (Complete)
Series1: Chapters 1-8 (Complete)
S2: Chap 1, SoI 16
S2: Chap 2, SoI 17
S2: Chap 3, SoI 18
S2: Chap 4, SoI 19
Ianto rang his father while he flipped through requisition forms and pages of chemical equations, symbols, diagrams, and notes that should have made sense but in the waking hours of the morning after yet another sleepless night, the numbers and letters might as well have been gibberish.
Broderick would be awake, though. He was always at his store at a ridiculous hour to get the shop ready for the day, but Ianto knew it was code for sampling the day's pastries with a fresh mug of coffee while reading a worn paperback novel.
Pleasantries out of the way, Ianto didn't wait for conversations about the weather, his job, or the number of sunny days in Cardiff. He didn't have time for that, not really. Not when he was preparing for battle. "Mom knew she was going to die, didn't she." Statement, not a question. It had taken Ianto a while to feel strong enough to sift through those memories of Avalon and the conversation with his father, but he'd finally filtered through them. Details about the assailant at the hospital were catalogued with the woman who had tried to take Rani -- neither Torchwood Four employees, but given the information about Tiffany Woodbridge, Ianto would say that Torchwood Four was recruiting. A frightening prospect. His father's lack of surprise, however, had been moved from the unexplained aspects of his father to the understood. "So it comes to this." "And she told you."
His father's silence was all the acknowledgment Ianto needed. Of course it wasn't outside the realm of possibility -- Ms. White had had clairvoyants living just a door away.
"What else did she tell you?" Ianto heard the voice of his father echo through his mind, forgotten shadows of the past. "But I know you'll do what's best." "What do you know?"
Ianto heard the distinct sounds of his father taking a drink of his coffee, reminding him of the pot kept warm on the counter in his kitchen. Owen had actually told him to lay off the coffee a bit after a physical revealed an elevation in blood pressure and borderline anemia. A product of stress, Ianto knew, but he had promised Owen to take better care of himself.
He chased an iron supplement with an entire pot of coffee that night, just to spite Owen.
"No more than you, I imagine."
Rubbing his temples, Ianto refrained from banging his head on the surface of the table. "She knew and did nothing to prevent it."
"Maybe she knew and did everything she could to ensure that it happened."
"What?" Ianto felt more than heard his voice escalate despite his best measures not to wake the individuals sleeping in the next room. Jack and Stephen had both grabbed available surfaces for sleep at various points in the night, after extracting confirmations from Ianto that he would get some rest as well. "Be careful, son." He refused to believe it. There was no ... she wouldn't have put the lives of the children at risk. She wouldn't have chosen that; Ianto knew with a certainty she wouldn't risk the children of Avalon. There had been far too many deaths -- Lana's club, at Avalon, the Guardians protecting those who wished not to stay at Avalon ... she wouldn't have made those sacrifices for sake of some greater good.
Speechless, Ianto sat back in his chair as he tried to formulate a response not crafted from caffeine-fueled nerves or the sugar buzz from the chocolate bar, certainly not on Owen's approved diet, registering but ignoring Stephen and Jack who had joined him in the kitchen. His stomach rolled as he considered the possibilities and all that had transpired during the tenure of Ms. White at Avalon and Torchwood, a notion so repulsive that Ianto could hardly choke out the words. "The Battle. Did she work to ensure Torchwood One's destruction as well?"
His father's sigh traveled through to Ianto's ear. "No future is certain, Ianto, you know this. Your mother made her choices and it's not up to you or I to determine which were right or wrong. How can we, since time is left before us, our own lives to live?"
Ianto stared at the door of his fridge, the white edges blurring and blending with its surroundings until just a fuzzy white mass was all that remained. Not a fridge, just a form lacking meaning when all the meaning was held within the name. Is that how his mother had viewed her life, decisions forming a path marked by blurred objects all interconnected and fluid? Even the Battle, small and minuscule when one stepped back from linear time to see the whole rather than the moment identified by a name.
He'd never felt so small. Or so lost. "Who are you, Dad?"
"Ah, but that's not the proper question," his father replied. "What you are asking, Ianto Llacheu Jones, is who are you, and that is an answer known only by you."
He hung up on his father, forgoing proper manners in his frustration. Ianto stared at the phone, hesitating for a moment before throwing it at the white mass; a refrigerator by name, a solid object capable of shattering electronics by occupation. He watched as the cordless broke, plastic parts splintering and flying in direction and speed proportioned to the velocity and angle in which it was thrown. The action cost Ianto his home phone, but at the same time, made him feel moderately better, though he was no closer to answers than when he had first phoned his father.
"Good morning to you, too, Sunshine," Jack drolled from the doorway, arms crossed and leaning so much like the Jack Ianto knew that he was once again almost fooled by the similarities. Stephen didn't say anything, just handed a broom to Ianto without question.
***
Ianto tuned out the recapped reports by Owen, Tosh, and Gwen as to Torchwood's preparation status. Following his discovery of the chemical composition of the fire's fuel and the beast itself, Owen had taken the alien DNA and the chemical formulas and created an enzyme he claimed would break down the peptide bonds of the alien but because of alien protein structures would remain inert when encountering anything native to earth. Ianto doubted the complete accuracy of the statement, but lab tests performed on various substances (including Owen's own skin in an act of defiance to Ianto's questions. "Oi! Who sat through dreadfully boring organic chemistry here, you or me? Right, that would be me. So sod off and stick to coffee.") demonstrated a relative truth to Owen's claims.
Owen hadn't been alone in his research. A geneticist recommended by Sheppard ("he's Scottish, you'll at least understand him when he gets excited") had assisted at Mr. Black's request, although everyone else believed him to simply be a native of Glasgow and knowledgeable in the field. Oddly enough, despite Owen's initial protests at having a secondary researcher on the project, the two had developed a remarkable rapport, even if their communications were via email and phone since Sheppard refused to permit his scientist to come to Cardiff ("he's been through enough, I'm not having him involved in any of the crazy shit you guys in Cardiff have going on").
Despite the directive of Torchwood, Ianto had believed the information far too important to maintain only within the lands of Britain. He had sent the formulas as well as the production notes and dispersal units to the twelve other nations within his small consortium. He hadn't told them what it was for specifically, only that he strongly advised the synthesis of the compound and engineering of the units in anticipation of a possible future invasion. The other leaders, amazingly, hadn't questioned his directive as they understood the secrecy and paranoia that they all operated under, only requested that they be informed if and when the invasion began. Ianto really didn't think that there'd be a doubt once it started.
If it did.
He was certain it would, just that it was a matter of time. It was nearly nine months since the destruction of Torchwood Four, over four months since he and Gwen had discovered the dragon in the pipes.
Ianto was surprised Jack was still around. His time, even if Ianto had held him to his agreement, had long expired. But he was still there, still leading Torchwood Three and believing Ianto's conviction that a battle was coming. He'd asked Ianto once about what he'd meant when Ianto had questioned his father about who he was. Whether Ianto was simply trusting Jack far more than he ought because the lines between his Jack and this one were becoming more blurred daily, or if it was simply because he had grown reckless following the continued stress of anticipation, Ianto had responded that he didn't know anything more than his father was not from this time. Jack had taken it in stride and, over far too many glasses of whiskey one night, created wild tales of who he might be, from banished tyrants to rogue sons of kings to lost travelers, each getting more absurd as Jack's imagination ran wild. Apparently, Jack had enough galactic experience to have a vivid imagination. And quite the romantic streak, truth be told. Ianto would never have pegged his Jack or this one to hold such values, but it snuck into conversation occasionally, making Ianto grin at the extremes within the stories. When Jack weaved Ianto's father into a sordid tale of a prince on the run from the blushing virgins he'd "educated" and in search of his one true love, Ianto had finally laughed at the absurdity between that idea and his father -- much to Jack's delight as he preened like his only goal had been to make Ianto laugh.
Perhaps, it had.
Jack confused Ianto, wavering between obsessed stalker, concerned "boss," and indifferent, arrogant self-righteous twat, as Owen preferred to call him. Jack continued to maintain that the team meant nothing, that he was still around only for the kids, but sometimes, like the occasions when Jack dragged him out of the Hub for dinner because Ianto needed to get out more or to Lana's recently rebuilt club (though she was leaning more towards karaoke instead of comedy, of all things, though some singers Ianto rather believed were comedy acts) or to Ianto's with Stephen to study and build strategy to defend Cardiff in case of attack, sometimes it made Ianto question the truth of Jack's denial and his motivations. Not that Ianto still believed them malicious, but he wondered why Jack still stayed, even after nine months.
Immersed in quiet contemplation, Ianto jumped at the sounds of the obnoxious ring bleating throughout the Hub. It was loud enough to disrupt their morning meeting, but then, Ianto had designed it that way.
His stomach sank into his shoes as he pushed aside his chair, racing for the phone that lit with each ring. Over, and over. The others were confused and shouting their questions over the loud tones; they hadn't even noticed the addition of the phone, but Ianto knew.
He knew it shouldn't be ringing.
Quickly, he recited his code, smiling a bit in response to the identifying code he received in return. "Sheppard. I take it this isn't a personal call?"
"Mr. Black, I don't suppose you're aware of two ships above Cardiff, are you?"
The dead weight of his stomach in his shoes was the only thing preventing him from racing to Tosh's desk to run a scan of the skies above their heads. That and the cord attached to the phone. He didn't understand it though; their equipment alerted them to anything foreign, especially now when Tosh had keyed it to its most sensitive levels. "Coordinates," Ianto demanded rather than asked, waving at Tosh to head to her set of computers. Ianto shouted Sheppard's answer to Tosh while he transferred the call to his mobile, racing to Tosh's workstation while Jack and the others gathered around. Tosh plotted them and ran varying scans, finally gasping when they revealed no ship, no substance, just a lack of anything in two areas of space. Two massive areas of nothing.
"We are now," Ianto deadpanned while Gwen swore and phoned Rhys to instruct him to come to Torchwood immediately. What good that would do when Torchwood would most likely be a primary target, Ianto wasn't sure, but he allowed Gwen the satisfaction of doing something with a possible threat looming above their heads. Tosh squeaked (Ianto was fairly certain Jean-Luc would find that "cute") and pointed out a third abnormality in the scans, different from the other two. "Are you sure you haven't missed one, Sheppard? Our reports say three."
"Ah, well, there's an explanation for that. Don't suppose you'll let me in?"
Ianto frowned in confusion a moment, then pushed through the others to access Owen's desk, pulling up the CCTV footage for all entrances to Torchwood Three. A lone man in a non-descript navy blue uniform stood near the invisible lift, a mobile in his hand. "Three paces to your left, Sheppard. Then don't move." Ianto watched as Sheppard moved to the stone that would lower him into the Hub and entered the code to activate the lift.
He moved quickly to intercept, smirking in response to Sheppard's "cool!" as the lift finally reached the floor of the Hub. The mental image Ianto held of Sheppard failed to match the man's physical presence; for all Ianto had envisioned a square-jawed, burly, grey-haired military commander with an ease borne of experience and skill, he found himself face to face with a deceptively lithe, younger (older than Ianto, but younger than his father) man with a shock of dark hair in a scattered mess rivaling Jack's and a patch over his left eye. Not what he'd been expecting, the eye patch made him appear more rogue pirate than ex-military, but something in the hardened, hazel eye said he'd seen far more than his look belied.
Perhaps some of those stories he had told Ianto were true.
"Welcome to Torchwood Three, Colonel Sheppard. Ianto Jones," Ianto introduced himself, noting the awareness in Sheppard's eyes at the sound of his voice. He smoothly supplied the necessary information and hoped that Sheppard would follow his lead. "Mr. Black is away, but I'll notify him that you're visiting."
"Ianto, who's your friend?" Jack called from the railing; Ianto didn't miss the scowl, nor the deceptively casual posture as he watched Ianto shook Sheppard's hand, one hand resting on his sidearm. "And what's he doing in my base?"
If Ianto didn't know any better, he'd call Jack's tone "jealous."
Sheppard winked and Ianto knew his secret was safe; a quick straightening of his shoulders and Ianto led Sheppard to the others, providing introductions. "This is Colonel John Sheppard--"
"Retired," John drawled, and Ianto again wondered what part of the United States he was from; he certainly didn't sound like Wilson but then, Wilson hadn't really had a particular accent, either.
"Retired Colonel John Sheppard," Ianto corrected, "head of Torchwood's equivalent in the United States, covername JEM Aeronautics. Sheppard, Captain Jack Harkness, leader of Torchwood Three, Owen Harper, Toshiko Sato, and Gwen Cooper. While Jack was away, I took the liberty of establishing contact with their base," Ianto added when he realized the others were looking at him dubiously. He'd neglected that piece of information in his sheer relief that the ships had been spotted, forgetting that all Owen and Tosh knew of the base in the States was that they were the ones who had sent Wilson to spy on them.
"Tosh, set up the system to alert if those ships move, then join us in the conference room," Jack ordered. "Ianto? Are you expecting any more guests?"
Definitely angry, Ianto decided as he shook his head "no," knowing that he should have informed Jack of the United States base and the emergency line. It just hadn't crossed his mind to do so, and now Jack was angry. Definitely angry. Rightfully so, if Ianto was no more than a tea-boy. Jack was never one to be played the fool.
"Then let's adjourn to the conference room, shall we? Ianto, coffee for our guest?"
And Ianto felt once against the same pangs of dismissal as he'd felt when he'd first met Jack Harkness and with Ms. White, relegated again to his place of the lowest denominator, not as though Jack believed that his position, but to exert authority in the presence of one of his equals. He understood Jack's intent this time, however, nodding and quickly leaving to phone Stephen and make him aware of the situation. This was not a time to be angry with petty titles, much less who was in charge or fetching the coffee. And as Ianto believed himself correct in thinking, no time to be wasted on arguments.
They were here. And Ianto could only pray they were ready.
***
"--unable to ascertain their intent, but their geosynchronous orbit over Cardiff and lack of communication with the surface led us to believe they might be the invasion Mr. Black had warned us about."
Ianto entered the conference room carefully balancing a tray of coffee (tea, for Tosh) in one hand, his phone in the other. Stephen was on the other line, having been quickly debriefed and awaiting transference to the conference phone. Before calling Stephen, Ianto had alerted UNIT and the RAF of a possible imminent attack, as well as the Queen, namely to make sure she was under protection since she gave Ianto full support of any resource he requested or alert he was to broadcast in case of emergency.
Pausing to think about it, Ianto realized how awesome a power that was and how much it frightened him to wield it.
"Mr. Black for you, Colonel Sheppard," Ianto said by way of introduction, linking Stephen in through the polycomm in the conference room.
Sheppard smiled at Ianto and greeted "Mr. Black" over the speakerphone. "I was just updating your team on the situation. Twenty-four hours ago, we detected two anomalies approaching Earth at speeds inconsistent with asteroid or comet activity. Once the target location had been pinpointed, we dispatched our ship, the Spes Nostra, to monitor their approach. After we had confirmation of arrival, I contacted Torchwood Three via our emergency communication system."
There was silence before Stephen (Mr. Black) spoke up. "You have a ship?"
***
Tosh's alert sounded while they were eating an early lunch, or rather, while everyone enjoyed their pizza in the conference room and Ianto sat far removed from them all, drinking a coffee and eating the salad Tosh had brought for her own lunch before Jack had decided they needed take-away and Sheppard had chosen pizza as their guest. He'd heard Sheppard questioning after him, Owen answering that he had an aversion to pizza, for medical reasons, and Sheppard's questions stopped.
At times, Ianto almost liked Owen.
Ianto dropped his fork back into the salad and was the first to Tosh's computer, pulling up the radar images of dozens of blobs separated from the two positions in space Tosh had identified as the alien craft (not picked up on radar, but circled all the same). The blobs quickly dispersed out of range, but six remained in Cardiff airspace.
Sheppard was speaking into a communications device with Ianto assumed was his ship, Gwen clung to Rhys (their wedding couldn't have been better planned, Ianto thought, just a week away), Tosh held on to Jack's shirt and Owen ... well, Owen was finishing his slice of pizza like he'd never see pizza again.
Quite the chance, actually.
Not wanting to wait for the images to appear on the CCTV, Ianto ran for the Hub door, trailed by the rest of the team who seemed to be following just to have something to do rather than stare at the dots on the radar. They all crammed into the lift (Ianto was fairly certain it wasn't made for seven adults but it didn't plummet to the lowest level, so he assumed the cables were stronger than the warning label listed), bodies pressing against bodies but no one spoke a word. No one needed to. The breathing was loud, however, drowning the silence in adrenaline-fueled pants. He was almost certain he could hear the heartbeats race in anticipation, but surely that was a trick of Ianto's ears. Gwen was in a panic -- she had seen what Ianto had seen had was rightfully frightened but the others ... they had no idea. They were waiting to see if it was as big a threat as Ianto had deemed it.
Big, literally. Even Jack was skeptical.
The lift dinged their arrival to the surface and they all ran down the hall and out the Information Center to stare at the sky. They weren't the only ones; passersby stopped and stared too once they realized people were looking into the skies, curious by nature to see what was attracting attention.
They weren't difficult to spot, the blips from the radar. Against a startling blue sky, the oblong shapes were easy to find, growing larger as they plummeted towards the ground, burning white-red with the heat of entry. Someone started screaming; Ianto didn't bother to determine who it was, it wasn't really important anyway. But once that one individual started, the chorus joined as the wave traveled down the street. Terror jumped from person to person like a twisted game of phone gossip Ianto had played as a child, repeating itself down the line until the person screaming really had no concept why they were screaming, it just seemed appropriate to add to the cacophony. He could hear screams all around, echoing mass fear he hadn't witnessed since Torchwood One, echoing a fear he hadn't felt since Torchwood One. Not the Brecons, not the sewers, not any of the lesser aliens and demons they'd faced nor the labs at Torchwood Four; nothing held a candle to the strangling grasp of fear as it clawed at the throat and turned hope to ash.
The others, they thought they knew. They thought they understood. Maybe Abaddon had come close. But one can't witness the aftermath or read a report and feel that same trapped, ultimate terror for one's self, for one's family and friends, and for those all over the world that one had never met and probably never would but shared in exchange of breath and life the same time, the same space. That feeling of unity with all the peoples of Earth, an undercurrent of existence, threatened by the witness of an unbeatable foe.
If they didn't understand it before, they would feel it now.
Ianto felt others stand beside him, Jack at his right shoulder (he could smell Jack's aftershave), Sheppard at his left (a block of navy blue, a uniform if Ianto tore his focus from the sky). He could hear Tosh and Owen behind them above the din of terror filling the streets. Gwen and Rhys stood beside Tosh, standing more a single unit than two -- Ianto didn't need to see to know, nor did he need Jean-Luc's gifts; if his Jack were standing beside him instead of the other Jack, Ianto could see himself doing something similar, even if it was just to touch Jack's greatcoat.
Pathetic, he knew, and far beneath his title. But the Ianto of old, the Ianto with fewer responsibilities and naivety on his side, that Ianto still existed somewhere beneath the aged shell hardened by Torchwood. And that Ianto trembled as he watched.
God, he wished his Jack was there.
He wished Ms. White was still alive.
Actually, Ianto just wished he was wrong. Maybe he was.
"Jack..."
The sound of Gwen's voice drew Ianto from his wishes to the heavens; the white-hot oblong objects now cooled to a metallic dark silver sheen glinting sun off their curves.
It was a sunny day in Cardiff, Ianto's mind rebelled. This should not be happening on a sunny day in Cardiff.
Ianto saw what Gwen's voice had feared, a split running the length of the object, visible despite the distance. God, they were large and moving at speeds Ianto's mind could only calculate as "fast," if he had time to figure the trajectory and triangulate from his position and another point, but the objects were falling at too fast a rate, velocity setting course for impact with the Bay. It wasn't the landing that concerned Ianto, though, no matter how large the impact and subsequent shockwaves. The split worried him, pictures of napalm bombs burning across his mind like wildfire. They shouldn't be standing there, watching. They should be down in the relative protection offered by the Hub, preparing to battle whatever was coming. But his knees were locked, his feet rooted to the pavement, and Ianto couldn't help but stare along with everyone else.
Some protection Torchwood was against alien threat, staring into the skies like watchers of a train wreck.
It wasn't fuel that poured out of the split as Ianto had initially believed, a precursor to an explosion the likes of which Cardiff had never seen, nor would ever be aware of given that the combination of six explosions would obliterate all of Southern Britain, much less Cardiff. No, as the silver sides opened innocent as a ladybird taking off for flight, Ianto was certain of one thing.
He was right.
The halves fell away, shed armor no longer needed for protection as the threats revealed themselves in black-red blossoms unfurling in the sky. Their wingspans were massive, Ianto estimated at least forty meters as they spun out from their cocoon and soared on drafts of wind. Black wings, talon-tipped, stretched thin over a ribbed skeletal structure like the corset Gavin had purchased for Elaine after asking Ianto's opinion while shopping in London (that conversation had been awkward at best, but Gavin swore later that the purchase had resulted in the twins. Far more information than any brother or uncle needed to know).
The black bled into crimson over the expanse of the beast's chest, proud and bold and making no effort to blend into the sky as the scarlet streaked up its neck. Warriors, Ianto noted, catching the first glimpse of the alien's head. unlike the few that had been on Earth for some time, pale to be mistaken for clouds in the sky. The head was a massive onyx block of bone and flesh, looking much like what Ianto had imagined a dragon to look like only with a protruding forehead framed by what looked like horns. A monstrous mouth filled with pointed teeth opened to let loose a roar that quaked the ground Ianto stood upon; the answering bellows shattered store fronts and rattled the autos in the streets.
Ianto hated being right.
The beasts fanned out over the city, one angling towards the Information Center where Ianto stood with the others. Someone had a hand in the back of his jacket, he assumed it was Tosh as Gwen had Rhys and Owen ... Ianto felt it best not to consider that it was Owen.
"Ianto. Don't suppose your base is fireproof?"
Ianto jumped at the sound of Sheppard's drawl, pulling his eyes away from the dragon's forelimbs (not at all like a Tyrannosaurus Rex, these were proportionately long and clawed) to nod at Sheppard. "Yes." Belatedly, he realized they were standing in the open, an easy target for the approaching alien. Put him in danger and he froze. He was rubbish at this leading thing. "Yes, of course. Quickly."
It didn't take much to get the team moving once the question had been raised; all of them remembered Gwen and Ianto's report. Sprinting for the Information Center's door, Ianto jerked it open and ushered everyone in, keeping a watchful eye on the dragon that was far larger than the one in the sewers could have been. This one was built for war, down to its clubbed tail -- not aerodynamic by any means, but then, they didn't have to be built for speed.
A black-red dragon.
The color of the icing dragon on his birthday cake almost two years ago.
He didn't have time to contemplate the coincidence, just pushed the heavy door leading to the lift shut as the Information Center burst into flames.
***
"We're tracking six dragons in Cardiff, five en route to London. Ianto? What's the status of UNIT and the RAF?"
Ianto joined the conversation at Tosh's desk, having used the excuse to notify the military units to alert all of the nations on the emergency band from the conference room. Hopefully he'd given them enough warning to be be prepared.
But really, how does one prepare for dragons?
"Deploying squadrons armed with munitions filled with the enzyme as well as standard missiles." Ianto took the proffered canisters and hefted the straps over his shoulders. He felt like a fucking Ghostbuster with this setup (wouldn't Jean-Luc be amused?), but the packs had been one of the few methods of effective pedestrian delivery they came up with in the relatively short amount of time they had to prepare. Trials with launched weaponry failed, the heat generated by the launch destroyed the enzyme. The only thing that had worked were the modified flame throwers and slingshot-style delivery of the enzyme. Given they had no information on the protection or armor of the aliens, they hadn't wanted to depend solely on standard issue weaponry, though when they'd seeded the city with caches of weapons, Ianto had made sure they were well supplied with arms that, in Jack's terms, "made things go boom." But their first line of defense was the enzyme -- if it worked, though Owen and his Scottish cohort assured them it would.
The absurdity of the plan did not escape Ianto: they were going to fight dragons with water balloons. His nephews would be so proud.
"Sheppard?"
"My ship's staying in orbit over Cardiff," Sheppard said as he slung a sack of the "balloons" over his shoulder. His ship had some how teleported all of his gear into the Hub, from TAC vest to what looked like semi-automatic guns. Ianto still wasn't sure how that had worked but when he'd asked Sheppard, the man had just smirked. Damned national secrets. "A dozen pods are headed towards North America, but in response to Mr. Black's emergency broadcast, the U.S. and Canada have already launched intercepts. My crew's trying to figure a way past the two cloaked ships' shields, but so far, they haven't had much luck."
Ianto found himself on the receiving end of Jack's stare, not quite as intimidating knowing that this wasn't the Jack stare of old, but unnerving all the same. The man was plotting something and it didn't escape Ianto that this would be a most inopportune time for Jack to choose to leave. He could, Ianto knew; there was nothing tying Jack to this time and he'd long since stayed past his initial six month agreement. When they struck the streets, Torchwood Three would be left vulnerable to Jack or alien attack. Lacking alternative, Ianto returned the stare, hoping Jack would understand the lengths Ianto would go to seeking revenge if Jack should choose this moment to leave. At one time, his sister had threatened it, but Ianto was rather confident in himself that he would carry through if Jack ran now.
"Where is Mr. Black?" Gwen chimed in, splitting her attention between Ianto and Jack. The tension wasn't surprising; Ianto and Jack had been at odds since Jack had "returned," at least through the eyes of the others. But that Gwen would attempt to diffuse it, that was different.
"Returning from business in Glasgow. He should arrive in Cardiff shortly," Ianto supplied, not once looking away from Jack. To his credit, Jack never turned away either.
"Tosh and Owen, head to Cardiff Castle -- yes, Owen, you're going to fight dragons from a castle. If your position is compromised, your secondary location is Llandaff Cathedral. Gwen and Rhys, you're with me. We'll start with the beast who had the gall to destroy our Information Center." Jack paused, whether for dramatic effect or hesitation, Ianto wasn't sure. "Ianto, you're with Sheppard. Head east towards Splott and Rumney. Hopefully we can stave off the worst of it till the cavalry arrives."
His first impulse was to protest, strong as it was Ianto had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep himself silent. He was being separated from the team, and most importantly, from monitoring Jack. Every instinct, every cell of his being violently protested Jack's order, which Ianto could counter-instruct if he chose. He knew he could, could demand Jack stay with him, and send Gwen and Rhys off with Sheppard. But, he realized what Jack was asking.
Trust him.
Trust him not only to stay and fight, but trust his decisions. Jack could go with Ianto, but Ianto knew the captain didn't trust Sheppard to watch out for one Torchwood and one civilian. Ianto could go with them, but he couldn't maintain communications and coordinate the global response to the alien threat as Mr. Black unless he revealed it to Gwen, a prospect not exactly pleasing. Which left him joining Sheppard. And leaving Jack, trusting him with the team, trusting him with Torchwood Three, trusting him with Ianto's Jack.
Ianto wanted to, he really did. If it was his Jack, he'd trust without question in this situation. But Cardiff would burn, and he really didn't have another option.
He nodded, casting a glance at Tosh's monitor for the dragon's locations in the city. "The lift to the Plass looks clear, they seemed to be aware of the Information Center but not the Hub's location. I'll take Sheppard through the other exit, it'll sneak us into Splott."
"I thought there were only two entrances into Torchwood Three?"
Tosh was cute when she was perplexed, Ianto decided, making a mental note to share the image with Jean-Luc, perhaps minus the "cute" label as Jean-Luc was not a happy jealous man. Not that Ianto had any deigns on Tosh, but he could appreciate why Jean-Luc was so smitten. He smiled, refusing to comment on how or why he knew; they most certainly did not need a reminder of Lisa at this time. "I'll show you when we get back."
The group stood in silence, staring at each other as if everyone realized at the same time that this could be the last time they stood together. There were dragons topside; it wasn't every day one went to battle with beasts taller than a greater percentage of the buildings who breathed fire and wrecked destruction where they went.
"So, I'm supposed to say something inspirational and motivating, aren't I?" Jack asked, the frozen moment broken as shaky laughter filled the room. "Maybe a prayer?"
"Oi, a prayer from you, Harkness? You're--"
Ianto cleared his throat, cutting off Owen's tirade before the insults flew and they forgot to leave. He grabbed a "balloon" from Tosh's desk and began, struggling all the while to maintain a steady voice. "Oh Lord, bless this thy hand grenade, that with it thou mayest blow thine enemies to tiny bits, in thy mercy."
Tosh's laughter shook the room, loud and echoing in the confused silence that followed. Trust Tosh to recognize the quote. She'd been around for the display at Torchwood Four, after all. Stepping forward, Tosh kissed his cheek, giggling all the while. "Just a harmless little bunny."
He winked and gave her a quick hug, awkward as it was with all their equipment and weapons. "Come back to us, Toshiko Sato," he quoted back, letting her go, hoping without doubt that his words would come true. If for nothing else, for Jean-Luc. He stood warily, watching with an arched brow as Owen's face cascaded through a variety of expressions until he finally cursed and hugged Ianto like he was a prickly hedgehog, stepping away nearly as quickly.
"I'm shite with burns. Don't get torched."
Coming from Owen, that could be a declaration of love. Ianto just grinned and shrugged away his surprise, tossing the extra "balloon" to the doctor. "Let's hope this miracle of yours works."
Gwen's stranglehold came next; Ianto knew she hadn't forgotten their adventures in the sewers. At least she'd have Jack and Rhys looking out for her, or rather, at least Rhys had her looking out for him. Above her head, he noticed Jack and Sheppard exchanging words, but he couldn't read their lips from that angle, and Gwen was distracting him anyways. "Take care of each other," Ianto gestured at both Rhys and Gwen, and the serious smiles said it all. "You have a wedding to attend in a week, don't want to be late for your own ceremony."
Rhys distracted Gwen with threats if she was late to her own wedding and Tosh and Owen exchanged hugs with the couple as well. It was funny, they faced life and death every day, this should be nothing new. Throwing themselves out in the line of fire, protecting the innocent inhabitants, it was common, really. But this, this was different. Ianto could taste it in the air (along with the faint hint of smoke from the burning Information Center, separated as they were by stone and a firedoor), he could feel the tension and the apprehension. The others realized, despite all their other earlier experiences, that this wasn't a game. The thrill was gone from their job. They finally understood. And perhaps that was a little bit scary. This was something he'd missed at Torchwood One, however, as coworkers had panicked and run screaming into the halls despite their experience. One never knew how they'd react to unimaginable terror. Torchwood Three was learning.
There was only Jack left of the team, and Ianto made no movement to broach the distance between he and Jack. Jack's conversation with Sheppard had ended and now it was just a return to staring; the others seemed to notice as well as the din grew quiet, the only sounds the steady trickle of water down the fountain into the pool. Ianto moved first, extending his hand to Jack in the only fashion he knew acceptable given the circumstances. It wasn't Jack. No matter how he wished him to be, this wasn't the man he had grown to care for, though the past months had given him more reason to care for the elder, if that were possible. He didn't like trusting Jack to the team, he didn't like leaving Jack to his own devices, but it was Jack and he had stayed when he could have left. Ianto at least had to commend the honor in that decision.
Honor seemed displaced as Jack refused Ianto's hand, opting instead to roughly pull him forward. Unbalanced by the equipment and the force, Ianto found himself in Jack's arms, hands holding his jaw steady as Jack pressed a hard kiss to his lips, moving so quickly Ianto had little time to react in protest or agreement. The lips were gone before Ianto could even blink in surprise; just a fleeting action, Ianto would question its actual existence if not for the silence in the Hub.
"Good luck," was all Ianto could think to respond, nodding once at Jack before he gestured for Sheppard to follow him into the lower levels of Torchwood Three towards the tunnels that would lead them to Splott.
It wasn't his Jack, but as Ianto licked his lips, he realized he still tasted the same.
***
"So, you and Jack?"
Ianto would have stumbled if not for Sheppard's steadying hand as they scrambled over the debris of a fallen housing unit. "No." Dusting off his suit trousers, Ianto amended, "Yes. In the past."
A dragon had certainly tore through the area prior to Sheppard and Ianto arriving, and for that Ianto was both frustrated and relieved. Frustrated they missed the beast, relieved that they did. He shouldn't feel that way -- he knew it was his duty to protect the citizens of Britain but guiltily, he felt a bit of relief for the reprieve, short but it might be. He'd be lying to himself to say otherwise.
"What happened?"
Stepping over charred ruins, Ianto considered the question. "He changed." Which, he did. On a time-scale.
"I changed into a bug once."
Ianto couldn't help but blink in surprise. Following conversations with Sheppard was nearly as difficult as Jack, though usually Jack's leaps in thought maintained a semblance of human normality, even if it did involve sex in impossible positions with multi-limbed aliens.
"What?" Sheppard grinned and adopted the worst English accent Ianto had ever heard. "I got better!"
Smiling despite himself, and not wanting to believe Sheppard for a moment, but at the same time, the manner in which he was accepting all the strangeness of the day led Ianto to believe that this was not an extraordinary circumstance. In fact, Sheppard seemed almost comfortable with it all. "Is that how you .. ?" Ianto touched his eye and gestured towards Sheppard's patch.
"Lost a bet, had to play pirates for the month." At Ianto's disbelieving look, Sheppard turned away, scanning the skies and the surface for what Ianto assumed was the dragon they tracked. "We became overconfident, overstepped our knowledge. We lost the city, but managed to save our people. An eye was a small price."
This time, it was Ianto who lent the hand when Sheppard started an ungainly slide down a pile of rubble. Ianto waited until Sheppard had found his balance again before checking his PDA for an update on Tosh's tracking program. Pointing in the new direction, Ianto shifted the pack on his shoulders and continued walking. "We lost nearly 800 when our arrogance superseded logic. For Queen and country." With a snort, Ianto tapped his PDA, pulling up the contact information for the twenty-four other survivors, staring at the numbers. He didn't need the device for recall, but it was good to stop and ponder the decision, seeing the names written in text like stars on a nameless monument. Forget the rebuilding of Torchwood One; he had a job for those in London.
"You're a lot older than you look, Mr. Black," Sheppard commented after a moment, pausing as they stopped for breath, the weight of their packs and weapons more than either was used to carrying.
Ianto grinned. "And you're a lot younger than you sound."
Sharp, barking laughter filled the air as Ianto punched in the first number.
***
"Remind me of the plan?"
Ianto dove out of the way as a section of the wall they were using as a shield collapsed. Sheppard landed right beside him, a louder thump as debris bounced off Ianto's back and shoulders -- mostly tiny particles but occasionally something larger struck him. He would be one massive bruise come morning, if they survived. A quick glance at Sheppard confirmed the man's state of relative good health; they were both covered in grime, small cuts, and coal-black cinder, but they were alive. "Head east. Defend Earth from alien invasion."
"Just making sure we weren't deviating." Sheppard grimaced and rolled to a seated position. Ianto took a deep breath then followed suit, rubbing a shoulder as he stood to look out the glassless window. The dragon had moved away from them for the moment, colliding with trees and crashing into buildings blindly. People were still running in a panic on the streets, but for the moment, the massive beast's attention was not on them; not while its leathery skin bubbled and oozed, its massive head thrashing wildly as it clawed at sightless eyes. It had seemed a good idea at the time: shoot the enzyme at the creature's eyes since they didn't have nearly enough to do immediate damage to outright kill the beast. The enzyme worked just as it was supposed to, destroying the proteins of the dragon hide; there was just a lot of dragon to chew through.
Of course, once the animal was blind, Splott became the blind bull's china shop. A problematic solution, at best.
Ianto had located one of the caches of weapons, sealed behind locks the best thieves of Cardiff couldn't pick. They'd nearly exhausted the supply of ammunition fighting the dragon, bullets bouncing harmlessly off the dragon's hide until the enzyme had opened a patch, revealing the tissue to injury. Took a lot of bullets, though, and even with the help of a few brave citizens of Splott who insisted on picking up a gun and firing as well (Ianto's weapons training had not possessed Jack's seductive flair, mostly consisting of "safety off. Point. Shoot. Don't die.") they had yet to actually kill the beast. The rows of housing units had suffered for the battle; the bulging bony mass on the dragon's head acted as a battering ram, as did the club tail. Not to mention, the creature had a blast range of about fifty meters with its stream of fire. Took three minutes to recharge, but at this rate, there would be little left of Splott if they didn't bring down the beast.
George (at least Ianto thought that was his name, he couldn't keep the three men straight in his head what with the angry, injured dragon intent on killing them. He remembered Dolly, though, the brazen woman who'd come running out of her store front like a hellion, angry and shooting at the dragon after it had destroyed her store's sign. Ianto rather liked her) waved at Ianto and Sheppard from his sheltered location behind another ruined building; Ianto gave a half wave in return, acknowledging that they were okay. The man's eyes widened almost comically; Ianto thought it was just an expression, but no, the man's eyes grew almost larger than his face as he looked not at Ianto but up. Ianto closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then turned and looked up at the sky, the roof long torn away by the tail of their dragon Sheppard had taken to calling "Tim."
Dragons in full view were actually larger than they appeared.
This one (not Tim, gods, they'd gotten another) hovered above the structure, wings fanning a breeze reeking of sulfur and burnt timber, heated to a point just about boiling like the burn of jet engines from a hundred paces. Ianto felt the distinct reversal in the air current and grabbed onto Sheppard's uniform, pulling him to his feet and at an angle perpendicular to the dragon's aim. "Move!"
They sprinted over rubble, hurdling interior walls and furniture as the air exploded behind them. Clearing the structure, Ianto skidded to a halt, pointing to the right as Tim roared and backpedaled in agony, its taloned feet blocking their path and coming perilously close to squashing Ianto where he stood.
A scream of another sort drew Ianto's attention as he and Sheppard ran, angling in the direction of the remains of their weapons cache. The sounds of the fighter jets attracted the focus of the healthy dragon as well, and it launched itself into the skies towards the aerial resistance. The steady thumping rhythm of helicopter blades joined the symphony, music to Ianto's ears -- they were having enough difficulty with one injured dragon, much less two. And they were out of the enzyme, the flame throwing pack discarded long ago, their supply of "balloons" exhausted as well, splattered about Tim's hide and eyes.
Ducking under the broken, sagging door frame, Ianto scanned the remaining weapon as he absently answered his ringing phone. Rapid, excited Mandarin filled his ear and he calmly offered his advice to the Chinese leader on how to handle the four dragons in the skies of Beijing, all the while frantically searching for anything which would finally put an end to their battle with Tim. The Chinese government was hesitant to fire upon the dragons; Ianto did his best to dispel any notion of legend and tradition. The dragons were not gods nor spirits of ancestors nor champions of animal-kind. Ending the call with a terse "just kill the damned fire-breathing aliens" (roughly translated, of course. Ianto hoped the meaning was still applicable in Mandarin as it was intended), Ianto crowed his success as he held up a bazooka; ducking when Sheppard turned his gun on him and started firing. Not at him, Ianto noticed with a distinct lack of pain following the rapid gunfire and after he remembered to breathe, but beside him. Behind him. Ianto turned and stared at the Weevil lying in a bloody mess on the floor.
"What the fuck is that thing?"
"Weevil," Ianto said as he kicked the creature to make sure it was dead. Of course, a battle for the rights to Earth would not be complete without Weevils to complicate matters. Really, while the Earth was open and available for the taking, why not post an intergalactic sign pointing to Earth with a discount price blinking and squatter's rights for the unclaimed areas. "Denizens of the underground. Usually they're not out in daylight." Scowling, Ianto hefted the bazooka over his shoulder, grabbing the case of missiles to arm it. "Usually it's a bag and save, but at the moment, we hardly have the time to subdue, let alone cage."
An explosion in the skies caused both Ianto and Sheppard to look up after they left the ruins of the shelter, armed to the teeth with what few weapons remained. The dragon still flew ("Bill," Sheppard had named it) while fire and smoke danced on the wind, the remains of an aircraft tumbling to the ground.
"Shit."
Ianto nodded, setting the heavy case on the ground, their dragon still bouncing off buildings and running over autos like a bloody pinball machine. It launched a plume of fire wildly, luckily hitting nothing of consequence as the air burned. There were still jets in the skies, firing missile after missile, some loaded with the enzyme, some not. From Bill's pained roars, it sounded like damage was being wrought, but as they'd learned, a lot was required to take these things down.
His phone rang again, this time Germany on conference with France and Egypt, sharing their success in garbled streams of half-English and the language of the speaker's choice. They had tracked two dragons over Syrian and Iranian airspace; both France and Egypt had sent support to help defend those nations. Germany had launched planes of their own to assist Russia and the Scandinavian countries under attack. Their victories had not been without loss, but as Ianto discharged his gun into two charging Weevils threatening Sheppard as he loaded the rocket launcher, he realized that they might very well be winning this battle.
At the sounds of close gunfire, the leaders of Germany, France, and Egypt all began offering their assistance to Britain, willing to spare whatever forces necessary to help with the onslaught of over a dozen dragons terrorizing the single country. Ianto thanked them, but insisted they help the countries without military air support as the skies were fairly crowded over Cardiff and London (and hopefully Glasgow as well; he had yet to hear anything from Torchwood Two and he grew concerned).
He hung up in time to hear Sheppard shout at "yipee-ki-yay, mother fucker" (trust Sheppard to be a fan of John McClane) as he fired the bazooka at Tim. Ianto was so focused watching the trail of smoke as it spun towards dragon that the shockwave and blast from the skies knocked him to his knees. He looked up in time to see the remnants of a massive explosion not far above their heads, the jets and helicopters streaking away as fast as possible.
Holy shite. They'd killed Bill.
A secondary explosion rattled Ianto's ears just fractions of a second after the air had exploded above their heads, Sheppard's rocket had hit its target, ripping one wing clean off and tearing a gaping hole in the other. Ianto almost pitied the beast, thrashing about as it was and keening in pain. Almost, until the clubbed tail swept over his and Sheppard's heads, both men falling flat to the ground to protect themselves. Ianto grabbed the bazooka once the tail had found a building to thump, satisfying Tim's need for destruction for the time being. Quickly, Ianto prepped the launcher with the one remaining rocket, hoping that George and Dolly and the others were out of the immediate danger zone.
With Sheppard shouting curses behind him (at least, Ianto thought they were curses; sound was rather spotty), he darted towards Tim, firing his gun to attract the attention of the blind alien. Ears still ringing from the previous explosions, Ianto shouted taunts at the dragon while he fired bullets into the steaming, bubbling mass of flesh being consumed by the enzyme. The smell was terrible this close, the sour, rotting fumes coming off the dragon enough to make him vomit, but Ianto refrained, focusing instead on causing enough noise to distract the dragon from its pain. Sure enough, his plan worked and as Sheppard caught up to him, Ianto hoisted the weapon to his shoulder, waiting for the precise moment...
Between facing down the barrel of a gun and the stretched, toothed jaws of a dragon, Ianto would have to opt for the gun as his preferred method of sheer terror with the knowledge of possible imminent death. Tim's neck swung and stretched towards the sounds of Ianto's voice and as Ianto distractedly noted that the beast's throat was a bright shade of green, he pressed the trigger on the bazooka. He felt the recoil of the launcher as arms wrapped around his waist and Sheppard yelled in his ear. The curling trail of smoke from the missile formed a circle from Ianto's point of view and as it flew towards the green target, Ianto closed his eyes, pretending for a moment the arms around his waist were someone else's.
***
The shock of cool air forced Ianto's eyes open and he looked about in surprise, smelling the acrid smoke from the bazooka still resting on his shoulder but no hint of sulfur and, most importantly, feeling no percussion blast.
"Welcome aboard the Spes Nostra, Ianto."
Still reeling from the change of environment to answer Sheppard, Ianto turned slowly to take in his surroundings, noting that Sheppard's hands were nearly as slow in pulling away from the grip about his waist. He was on a ship, the Bridge, if Ianto wasn't mistaken. The first thing he noticed was a panoramic view of Earth in her full splendor out the main window, looking innocent and pure in her blue-white-green marbled curve. Ianto stared, his breath struck by the sight, the ringing in his ears dulling as he heard a female voice asking questions and poking and prodding the observable injuries to Ianto's skin, the weapon on his shoulder disappearing to assist her efforts.
Other men and women, all dressed in the same navy blue uniform, raced about while frantically inputting data into tablet PCs and ship consoles unlike any Ianto had seen before -- not that he frequently boarded space ships to know what typical consoles looked like, but they definitely did not appear of Earth origin. An argument between a pony-tailed man and a man with a slightly receding hairline erupted in one corner; Ianto wasn't sure what it was about but he did have to smile at the creative derogatory terms the one used to insult the intelligence of the pony-tailed man. Something about the alien ships' shields, impervious to any weapon on board the Spes Nostra, though the pony-tailed man argued that until they tried, they'd never know. Ianto found himself agreeing with the other's belief that to give away their position in space would be an irrevocable error, and almost added his comment when the fiery physician snapped another question at him.
"I'm fine, thank you for your concern. Please, if you'll excuse me." Turning to find Sheppard in heated conversation with another man, remarkably tall and clad in not the navy blue uniforms of the others but in leather and tunic revealing scattered tattoos and a few scars. He reminded Ianto of a lion with his mane of dreds and fierce expression. The conversation between he and Sheppard ended as Ianto approached. Ianto would have felt guilty for interrupting, but he had other concerns on his mind once he got past the shock and awe of "I'm on a fucking space ship!" "Sheppard? I can't thank you enough for your crew's timely intervention, but I can't stay. If you'll please return me to Cardiff, I'm assuming what brought me here can send me back?"
The other man grunted and turned away, leaving an amused Sheppard behind. "He likes you."
Ianto wasn't quite sure how to respond. "I ... yes, well, pass my sincere thanks." Somehow, despite the cuts and bruises and ash, Sheppard still looked remarkably collected and calm. Ianto wondered if he exuded the same aura, or if that was something won by age and experience, not just the luck Ianto seemed to run on. Sheppard appeared to consider Ianto's request, like there was an option to his response, and Ianto's patience grew thin. "You have no right to keep me here."
Sheppard paused as he took the two bottles of water offered by one of his crew, passing one on to Ianto. He took a long pull from the bottle before answering. "I made a promise, you know. If you were in danger, I was to protect you through any means necessary. Including safe retreat aboard my ship."
Indignant fury boiled through Ianto, leaving him momentarily speechless as he scrolled through all the possible forms of painful retribution he would exact upon one Captain Jack Harkness when he returned to Earth. So that had been the purpose of Jack and Sheppard's conversation: to make sure Ianto was carefully tucked away while Britain burned and fell to the conquests of their alien invaders. "I swore an oath when I accepted my position, Sheppard," Ianto seethed with anger but he maintained a steady, cool voice, "to protect the peoples of Britain through any means required. I will not cower in fear while my country suffers attack from bloody fluffy bunnies or monstrous fire-breathing dragons!" So much for the steady cool, Ianto absently noted while his voice escalated and the others stopped to stare at the argument. "I demand return immediately or I will commandeer your bloody ship and steer it back to Cardiff myself. Have I made myself clear?"
A delighted smirk grew on Sheppard's face and Ianto was torn between hitting the man and doubting his ability to deliver a proper threat. "I figured you'd say that. S'why I asked Ronon to grab his coat."
The tall, fierce man returned, apparently this Ronon as he was now clad in a leather duster-looking coat and wielding an unusual gun that his Jack would probably drool over. "Can I kill things now?" Ronon's voice was more a low growl, unsurprising really given his appearance. Ianto was more surprised by how eager the man was to join the fight against the dragons. "I"m tired of doing nothing."
Someone handed Sheppard six new guns, Ianto assumed fully loaded with spare magazines tucked in the pockets of the new TAC vests that were given to both Sheppard and Ianto. Ianto slipped it on over the soiled, nearly black shirt that had once been white and stopped fiddling with the clasps as Sheppard batted his hands away, securing the vest properly.
"We've located part of your team on an airstrip. My crew will drop us off there; no need to commandeer my ship." Sheppard grinned at the thought. "And yes, Ronon. You can kill things."
Ianto heard the man grunt in response before the air shimmered around him and the ship disappeared.
Part 2