Fanfic - Counting Stars 15/17 [Torchwood: Jack/Ianto]

[soera]

A/N: This part was written long before the discussion I instigated about Gwen. I hope the ending makes sense of a sort? I do think Jack has a huge blind spot when it comes to Gwen, and the ending of this part hopefully begins to address that. Also, lead-in to Adrift and certain behaviours thereof!

Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
Part Seven
Part Eight
Part Nine
Part Nine
Part Ten
Part Eleven
Part Twelve
Part Thirteen
Part Fourteen

Siti shut the door on their faces - or tried to, anyway, but Ianto caught it just in time. Despite that rather unpromising start, however, Tosh managed to talk her round into speaking with them, though Siti still refused to let them into the house.

On the way over, Ianto and Tosh had decided that she’d take point so Ianto could watch Siti’s reactions. If he felt that she was somehow involved, and that he had a handle on what was happening, then he’d step in and take over. So it was Tosh who controlled the conversation while Siti insisted that she knew nothing about the spate of bad luck that had befallen the neighbourhood. Ianto didn’t need to extend his empathy to know she was lying. Tosh had evidently picked up on it as well, for she pushed a little harder, hoping to catch Siti out. It didn’t take long for her to trip up, and Ianto caught it immediately.

“I don’t believe in ghosts and all that,” she’d insisted fervently, annoyed that Tosh kept returning to that topic. “Like curses, or, or grasshopper spirits or whatever! It’s stupid.”

Ianto’s face remained perfectly composed as he let the conversation go on. A minute later, Tosh had managed to bring it back to the question of whether a boggart could possibly be haunting her or one of her neighbours.

“No,” she said in exasperation. “How many times I have to say, I don’t believe in all that. My mother, yes, she loved that kind of thing. But I have a little more common sense.”

“So you don’t even believe in pelesits?” Ianto asked mildly, and was rewarded with a violent start from her.

“N-no,” she said, the colour fading rapidly from her light brown face. “I never heard of that.”

“Really?” Ianto asked archly. Tosh stepped back discreetly, forcing Siti to focus on Ianto. “Even with your mother going on at all times about spirits? Grasshopper spirits, you mentioned earlier. It’s a very odd, specific descriptor for someone who doesn’t know what a pelesit is.”

She scowled at him. “Okay, fine, I know it,” she said. “But they don’t exist, okay?”

“Except that since you moved here, things have been happening that are exactly the sort of thing a hungry pelesit might do,” Ianto pointed out. “It even follows the lunar cycle. You haven’t been feeding your pelesit at the full moons, have you?”

“No, because it’s not real,” she whispered, but she no longer looked quite as certain of herself.

“I think we all know it is,” Ianto said gravely. “I can understand it was hard to believe at first, but given the evidence so far - what could it hurt to try it out and see if we can’t make it happy?”

“Look,” she said, crossing her arms and hugging herself. “I don’t think it’s real, okay? But my mother and grandmother, they were always talking about this sort of thing. And - and when I said I was moving here…”

“Your mother decided to pass on the family pelesit?” Ianto guessed, and she nodded miserably.

“My grandmother passed away when I was ten,” she said. “I remember she was so hungry at the end of it, then one day she wanted to see my mother alone. And after that she wasn’t hungry anymore, and a few days later…”

“Does sound a lot like a pelesit,” Ianto murmured. “And it also sounds like your grandmother passed it on just in time.”

“Or what, she’d have tried to eat herself?” Siti asked, pushing her hair back in frustration. “It’s so - stupid!”

“I can sympathise,” Ianto said, smiling ruefully. “I used to be pretty sceptical myself, until I had an encounter I can’t describe as anything but supernatural.”

“What happened?” she asked softly.

“I was sixteen,” Ianto said. “My family had gone out into the country for the weekend. I went off on a walk by myself, and I found this absolutely beautiful horse wandering around. Now, first off, there was no reason for a horse to be there. Second, it looked wild but it came right up to me. I was a bit of an idiot and decided to try and mount it. It let me, and then took off like a shot.”

“You fell off?” Siti asked, her lips twitching.

“Surprisingly, no,” Ianto said. “Wild ride, sure, but every time it felt like I was going to fall off, it slowed down just enough for me to regain my seat. It took me to this quiet little river and finally stopped.”

“And then?” she asked when Ianto paused.

“And then we talked,” Ianto said, shrugging. “I still had some issues about my father’s death, and the horse had some very wise words for me.”

“The horse talked,” Siti and Tosh said in unison, staring at Ianto. He smiled at them both.

“Yep,” he said. “Never told anyone this before, mind you. Keep it to yourselves, eh?”

“The horse talked,” Siti repeated incredulously.

“The horse talked,” Ianto parroted. “I had just about the same reaction, but it’s hard to deny when it’s right in front of you. I did some research when I got home, and near as I could figure, it was a Pwca I’d run into that day. They’re a kind of shape-shifting spirit, and though they like playing pranks, most people believe them to be good-hearted creatures.”

Siti smiled sadly. “Wish that was what I had,” she mumbled, then sighed heavily. “What do you think I should do?”

“There’s nothing you can do until the next full moon,” Ianto pointed out pragmatically. “Did your mother give you instructions on how to take care of it?”

“Yeah,” she said, nodding. “I’ve got the jar and all. Didn’t want to throw it out even if I didn’t believe in it… it used to be hers…”

“I can understand that,” Ianto said, his hand reflexively twitching up towards the pocket his stopwatch rested in. “Why don’t you give it a shot this coming full moon - that’s in a week, if I remember correctly - and see what happens? If the bad luck stops or at least slows, then I don’t think we’ve got a choice but to believe in the pelesit. And if you don’t want it bound to you, then maybe you could ask someone back home how to…” He made a vague gesture with his hand, glancing around significantly.

“Okay, okay,” she said, squeezing her eyes shut. “Oh, I don’t want to get the blood.”

“Mind you’re careful with the cut,” Ianto cautioned her. “Try a finger. It’s harder to mess up and cut too deep that way. And sterilise the knife and wound and all that.”

“I will,” she said, looking a little pale. “I just - I just really can’t believe it might be true.”

“One way to find out,” Ianto said. “If it doesn’t work, feel free to tell me I’m an idiot. But I really do think there’s something here. And so do you, right?”

“Yeah,” she said absently, then squared her shoulders. “Okay, not that I’m trying to get rid of you, but -”

“We should be going, too,” Ianto said, with a professional smile. “I hope this works out for you.”

Siti waited until they were off her porch before retiring into her house. They had no way of knowing if she’d go through with it, but Ianto suspected she would, at least once. She’d already been more than halfway to believing, and he’d simply been the catalyst, nothing more. He also suspected she’d be getting in contact with a bomoh before long, in order to get rid of the pelesit. Hopefully, she’d be able to return to a normal life soon, and this neighbourhood could live in peace.

“A talking horse, really?” Tosh asked as they walked away, towards where the team was waiting. “Are you serious?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Ianto said with a straight face.

“I had no idea what you were talking about,” Jack declared as soon as they came into view.

“You? What about me?” Tosh asked, snorting inelegantly. “I was trying to make myself invisible there. Jack, ask him if the talking horse was real.”

“Ianto, was the talking horse real?” Jack asked obligingly.

“My lips are sealed,” Ianto said. “And stop trying to see it in my mind.”

“But a talking horse would be really kind of cool,” Gwen mused.

“They’re shape-shifters,” Ianto pointed out. “A horse might be their preferred form, but they also appear as other creatures. Dogs, goats, even goblins.”

“Okay, talking dog, still cool,” Owen said. “Talking goat, not so much. Goblin, not at all.”

“Oh, I can’t wait till you go over a boggart’s bridge,” Ianto muttered. “Why are we even talking about this?”

“Good question,” Jack said. “Are we done here?”

“I think so,” Ianto said. “In a way, it’s like with the faeries. There’s really not much else we can do. A pelesit is a spirit, and it’s up to Siti to either keep it happy or break the bond. Nothing anyone else can do to interfere without the proper spiritual training.”

“Back to the B-and-B,” Jack proclaimed. “We’ve got another couple of days on it, and we’re damn well gonna use it.”

“Holiday?” Gwen asked, perking right up.

“Yeah, why not,” Jack said. “Unless of course, this goes off.” He waved his hand, displaying the wristband on it. “We’ll leave tomorrow at…”

“Five,” Ianto filled in.

“Five,” Jack said. “You lot can do whatever you want till then.”

Gwen attempted to strangle Jack in a hug while Tosh and Owen exchanged high-fives. If even Owen was grinning, Jack mused while he tried to get some air into his lungs, maybe a break was long overdue.

Ianto joined Jack on a leisurely stroll out to the small park Jack had found earlier. At Jack’s behest, Ianto found a quaint little wrought-iron bench for them to sit on while Jack got them something to nibble on. It was a terribly juvenile sort of date, Ianto thought, but oddly fun nonetheless. When Jack returned bearing a cone of strawberry ice-cream and another of raspberry swirl ice-cream, Ianto couldn’t help but grin.

“It does feel a bit anti-climactic, doesn’t it?” he asked idly as he licked at his cone.

“What does?” Jack asked, draping an arm behind Ianto, along the back of the bench.

“The whole thing with the pelesit,” Ianto said. “We came out expecting the absolute worst, and instead it’s an annoyed little grasshopper spirit.”

“Grasshopper,” Jack repeated, giving Ianto a side-long look. Ianto nodded.

“They’re supposed to be invisible most of the time, but if they appear it’s in the form of a grasshopper,” he recited dutifully. “They’re basically used to benefit the family they’re attached to, generally by stealing things, making things difficult for competitors, things like that.”

“So what was happening here was…” Jack prompted.

“Siti didn’t believe it was real,” Ianto said. “And so she didn’t feed it. It’s the trade-off. To keep the pelesit happy and bound to you, it needs to be fed a jar of your blood every full moon.”

“Ow,” Jack said, wincing. “Okay, so how does she get rid of it?”

“She’ll have to contact a bomoh - a traditional spiritual advisor,” Ianto explained. “He should be able to break the bond without harm to her.”

Jack nodded thoughtfully. “But say she doesn’t break it,” he said slowly. “Say she decides to use it the way it’s supposed to be used…”

“We can’t do anything about it,” Ianto said. “Supposedly there are ways to ward it off, but it’s like hanging a horseshoe on your door to ward off boggarts. No one’d believe us.”

“So she could conceivably turn thief and no one would be the wiser,” Jack filled in, suddenly looking more sombre.

“It wasn’t something that had occurred to me,” Ianto said, frowning. “She seemed pretty disturbed by the whole notion.”

“You’d be surprised how many people can get used to strange things if they think there’s gain in it for them,” Jack said. “We’ll keep an eye on her. Hopefully I’m just being paranoid.”

“Hopefully,” Ianto agreed. “Also, your ice-cream’s melting.” Jack started, then hastily lapped at the pink trails nearly touching his hand. Ianto decided not to comment on the fact that Jack’s ice-cream-eating ability seemed about on par with a five-year-old’s. He didn’t even seem to have noticed that he’d gotten some on the tip of his nose.

“Pretty much all we can do, I guess,” Jack said, once he’d managed to stave off imminent sugary disaster. “Every time we find more of these… inexplicable things… I always wish there was more we could do.”

“It’s odd,” Ianto said. “I’m so used to thinking of all these strange things as being alien-related. Coming from out there, you know? But there are these things that seem to be from earth, but which we can’t make head or tails of.”

“Is it scary or amazing?” Jack asked.

“Bit of both, I think,” Ianto said, then stretched. “Well, at least we weren’t getting shot at or nearly killed on this case.”

“No, not much adrenaline-pumping, life-or-death action on this one,” Jack said reflectively. “I actually wish we had more cases like this. But you know what I found really interesting about it?”

“I’m sure you’ll tell me,” Ianto said slowly.

“It was all you,” Jack said.

Ianto thought that over. Then he tried again. “Say what?” he finally asked.

“You noticed that there might be more going on than Tosh realised,” Jack said. “You were responsible for most of the prep, actually. You managed to get people talking to you where the rest of us failed. You managed to get all the information that proved useful, and you talked Siti into resolving the problem. You solved this entire thing with really amazing research skills, and a really disturbing ability to read people.”

“Disturbing,” Ianto repeated flatly.

“Disturbing in a good way,” Jack laughed. Ianto gave him a thoroughly unconvinced look. “I mean it,” Jack insisted. “Disturbing in a thank-god-he’s-on-my-side kind of way.”

“If you insist,” Ianto said. “I guess you’re right, though, about what I did. Funny, I never thought of it that way.”

“You’re not used to thinking of yourself as important,” Jack said. “You really should start getting in the habit.”

“I’m not -” Ianto began.

“You’re not being arrogant,” Jack said, then grinned suddenly. “That’s my job. But there’s a difference between being modest and putting yourself down.” He gave Ianto a gentle look. “You have to realise you are important, Ianto. You don’t have to go around proclaiming it to the world, but you have to understand that yourself.”

Ianto carefully finished the last of his cone, then leaned forward and licked the smudge of strawberry ice-cream off Jack’s nose. “I’ll try,” he said softly.

They bought sandwiches from a nearby shop for dinner, and took their time getting back to the bed-and-breakfast. The rest of the night was spent in languid exploration of each other’s bodies. Jack sometimes suspected that however many times he slept with Ianto, he’d find something new to appreciate each and every time.

They did very considerately try to keep the noise down (and if they helped that along with a few, ah, external aids that Jack had prudently packed, no one was complaining). The girls didn’t look tired the next day, at any rate, so they must have gotten their sleep. Ianto certainly hadn’t, but he didn’t really care.

“You look like you’ve been thoroughly shagged,” Owen observed the next morning at breakfast.

“Mm?” Ianto asked, looking up over the rim of his cup.

“You do have that, uh, glow about you,” Gwen said, grinning.

“What am I, pregnant?” Ianto asked dryly. “And I don’t. He does.” He nodded at Jack, who’d just walked into the room with a distinct bounce in his step.

“Okay, yes,” Tosh said, staring wide-eyed at their fearless leader, who currently resembled nothing so much as an enthusiastic puppy. “He does.”

“Hi,” Jack said, beaming at all of them. “What are we talking about?”

“Which one of us it is that looks like we’ve been thoroughly shagged,” Ianto said blandly.

“Me, pick me!” Jack said happily, stealing some bacon off Ianto’s plate. “We didn’t keep you girls up, did we?”

“Didn’t hear a thing,” Gwen said.

“My suspicious nature is rearing its head,” Owen said. “Why didn’t they hear a thing?”

“That would be because we were using -mmphf!”

Ianto smiled politely at the others, his hand firmly over Jack’s mouth. “We were trying to be quiet,” he said pleasantly.

“I have a feeling I don’t want to know,” Gwen muttered. Ianto’s smile turned vaguely predatory, and she inched a little closer to Tosh. “Yep, definitely don’t want to know.”

“Ianto.”

“Yes, Jack?”

“The Rift is being funny.”

Ianto walked around Jack’s desk, dropping a kiss on Jack’s forehead in greeting. “Funny how?”

“It’s doing these weird little jumps, see,” Jack sighed, pointing out the graphs he’d plotted out on the computers. “Tosh was asking me about them and I told her it’s normal, not to worry.”

“And what does it actually mean?” Ianto asked, setting down the mug of coffee.

“That it’s probably about to spit out something it took,” Jack said glumly. “Give it another couple of weeks or so. End of February at the latest.”

“Flat Holm?” Ianto asked.

“I hope not,” Jack murmured, leaning back as he picked up his coffee. “But probably, yes. It’s not just where they wind up - it’s also the trip there and back. The Vortex is a scary place to be.”

Ianto sat down gingerly on the edge of the desk. “Speaking from experience?”

“I’m guessing I probably saw it at one point, that first time I died,” Jack mused out loud. “She was passing the power of the Vortex into me, using it to bring me back… but I don’t remember that. Don’t remember much of what happened at the time, actually.”

“Understandably,” Ianto said.

“Thanks,” Jack said with a faint smile. “What I do remember is - when I went after the Doctor this last time? I grabbed onto the outside of the TARDIS just as it was dematerialising. For the record, you want to travel inside the TARDIS, not outside it.”

“Did you die?” Ianto asked, taking a sip of his own coffee.

“Yeah,” Jack said. “Hadn’t even seen the Doctor yet and already pulled off a death.” He snorted. “I don’t think Martha realised I was actually dead, at that point. She looked way too shocked when I came back after being electrocuted.”

“I presume that was later,” Ianto sighed.

“Yeah,” Jack said, putting down his mug and sliding over closer to Ianto. “Don’t be mad. It’s not like I do it deliberately.”

“I’m not saying you do,” Ianto protested. “It’s just - do you ever wonder if someday - it’ll run out? Stop?”

Jack bit his lip thoughtfully. “I used to,” he admitted. “But… the Doctor said I was a fixed point in time and space. I think - I think that means it’s forever.”

“Really forever then,” Ianto whispered, closing his eyes.

“Yeah,” Jack said, then hesitantly added, “I know it’s unbelievably selfish, but - if I can’t be fixed, then sometimes I wish you were forever too.”

Ianto smiled slightly. He’d wished for that himself, about as many times as he’d felt thankful he wasn’t immortal. “But I’m not. I’ve worked for Torchwood for four years now. I’m lucky if I’ve got another one left in me.”

“Don’t say that,” Jack said immediately.

“It’s true, though,” Ianto said, reaching out to card his fingers through Jack’s hair. “I don’t intend to mope around, but knowing that, I want to make the most of what we’ve got.”

“What little time,” Jack said, pressing his cheek against Ianto’s chest.

“Yep,” Ianto agreed.

“Torchwood’s supposed to protect people,” Jack said.

“But who protects us?” Ianto asked, remembering when he’d asked Tosh the same question.

“No one,” Jack answered unhesitatingly. “And in protecting others, we wind up destroying ourselves.”

“That’s a bit harsh,” Ianto said with a faintly bitter smile. “I think Torchwood tends to take in those who were already broken in some way or other. Maybe it would have happened anyway.”

“You’re not broken,” Jack mumbled into Ianto’s shirt.

“Maybe not now,” Ianto conceded. “But you wouldn’t be saying that if you’d known me five years ago.”

“Do you think I’d have loved you then?” Jack asked, idly playing with Ianto’s sleeves.

“I’d like to think so,” Ianto said. “But probably not.”

“I don’t think you’ve have loved me either,” Jack confided.

“Then we found each other at the right time, didn’t we?” Ianto said. He fell silent for a moment, replaying what they’d just said in his mind. A rueful smile caught his lips.

“Guess so,” Jack said. “I wish we could do more for these people though.” He nodded slightly towards his computer.

“They were unlucky,” Ianto said. “The universe isn’t all ugliness and fear.”

“It’s a beautiful place,” Jack agreed. “But sometimes it seems like all we see is the bad side of it.”

“Misty,” Ianto said. “The jellyfish. Callista.”

“Point taken,” Jack laughed, sitting up so he could look at Ianto properly. “What would I do without you, my Ianto?”

“Wallow in misery,” Ianto intoned solemnly. “And then, hopefully, you’ll remember how to be happy again.”

“It’s hard to imagine that,” Jack confessed. “Being satisfied, yeah, maybe. Content, okay. I think I could get by, probably. But really happy? I can’t see it without you.”

“I don’t - I don’t want to trivialise us,” Ianto said diffidently. “But how many times have you thought that about a previous lover?”

Jack closed his eyes, lips moving silently as he thought. “None,” he said eventually, opening his mind so that Ianto could feel his sincerity. Ianto’s own mind stuttered to a halt as he stared at Jack.

“Remember how I told you I used to not be a very nice guy?” Jack asked, smiling crookedly. “For a very long time, I was the only person who was important to me. Anything I did was for my own benefit. That’s why the Doctor and Rose are so important to me, because they’re the ones who turned that kind of thinking around, taught me that it was more than okay to care about others.”

“And after that?” Ianto asked cautiously.

“For a while, they were the most important people to me,” Jack said candidly. “I did love them. But I never once thought that I couldn’t manage without them. I needed to get to the Doctor to see if he could fix me, not because I needed to be with him.”

“Oh,” Ianto said blankly, still feeling the truth from Jack’s mind.

“I’ve had lovers before,” Jack said. “And I won’t deny I cared about them. But never like this. It’s different, somehow, with you.”

Ianto smiled dazedly at him. “Oh,” he said again, and Jack’s lips twitched.

“Did I break you?” he asked, wrapping his arms around Ianto’s waist in a loose hug.

“Nope,” Ianto said, kissing Jack’s messy hair. “Just - made me very happy.”

“Good,” Jack said. “You deserve it.”

“I have a question,” Ianto said after a few moments. “Might be an awkward one, I don’t know.”

“Go ahead,” Jack said.

“You said that you were rather… self-centred,” Ianto said, and Jack nodded. “But you once told me that you grew up in a very open, loving community. How does that environment breed self-centredness?”

Jack smiled wryly. “You’d be surprised,” he said. “It didn’t really breed self-sacrifice or teach compromise, either. But - is it all right if I give you the short version? It’s not that I don’t want to go into it, it’s just… difficult thinking about it right now.”

“All right,” Ianto said agreeably.

“I think I told you we were living in a time of war,” Jack said. “I lost a couple of my family in that war, when I was a kid. My mother was never the same after losing her husband and son.” He closed his eyes, remembering the moment of numbness when he realised he’d let go of Grey’s hand. “I think she forgot she had one more son alive. That was when I learned to look out for myself, above all else. So I wouldn’t ever hurt like that again.”

“I’m sorry,” Ianto whispered, his arms circling Jack’s shoulders gently.

“I’ll tell you more when I can,” Jack promised.

“When you’re ready,” Ianto said. “I won’t push you.”

“I know,” Jack agreed, smiling slightly. “It’s, uh, twenty-seven, if I remember right.”

It took Ianto a few seconds to place the reference. “Your list?” he asked.

“Yep,” Jack confirmed. “Don’t think I’ve given you that one yet, have I?”

“Nope,” Ianto said. “What is it?”

“Hang on,” Jack said, pushing away from Ianto and hunting for a piece of paper. He found a scrap and scribbled on it quickly, then presented it to Ianto with a flourish. It read 27) Never demands anything of me (which is why I can give everything).

“Thank you,” Ianto murmured.

“It’s the truth,” Jack replied. “Fourteen is also appropriate, but I’ll give that to you later.”

“All right,” Ianto said, smiling.

“And if it’s all right,” Jack said slowly. “I have a question for you.”

“And that would be?” Ianto asked.

“When I die,” Jack said. “What does it do to you?”

Ianto gave him a half-amused look. “You don’t go for the easy ones, do you?” he asked rhetorically. “It breaks me, Jack. Every time it happens, especially when I see it happen. I’m bloody terrified and it’s like I forget how to breathe until you come back.”

“Even though you know I will,” Jack said, his face displaying a mixture of confusion and awe, resignation and wonder.

“Even then,” Ianto said. Especially with this, he added. It feels so cold and empty without you.

“I didn’t think of that,” Jack admitted, cupping Ianto’s face gently. “What does that feel like?”

“Like I said,” Ianto said, shrugging. “Cold. Empty. Dark. It’s like you’re still there, but a distant, faint echo of what your mind should be. And when you come back, it’s almost worse, because the coldness is gone, but there’s so much pain I can’t believe you get right back up.”

“Got used to it,” Jack said. “Somewhere along the way. I got used to it.”

“You shouldn’t have had to,” Ianto insisted, his eyes suspiciously shiny. Jack pulled him down and kissed each of his eyes in turn, and then his lips.

“Thank you,” he said quietly. “For worrying.”

“Don’t think I’m capable of stopping,” Ianto admitted unsteadily.

“Thank you,” Jack repeated, his voice thick with emotion as he pressed tiny, fluttering kisses onto every bit of Ianto’s skin he could reach. “Thank you.”

Ianto stood back and surveyed his domain. There was something so satisfactory about a job well done, and this was a perfect example. He’d had to do a lot of manual labour to get everything organised the way he wanted it, but it was all laid out perfectly now.

Someone entering the archives would see the computer banks first. Ianto had installed the tables himself, riveting them to the walls and setting up all the hardware and software. He’d been afraid he’d need Tosh’s help (and he so badly wanted to do the whole lot by himself; this was his baby) but as it turned out, it all went off pretty smoothly. There were hiccups, of course, but systematic tests and adjustments had solved the problems. Though the computers had all the normal functions, their primary use was in accessing the databases that Ianto had spent so long setting up.

The databases themselves made searching much easier than it had been. There were fields to type in whatever information was available, and the computers would automatically cross-reference all the databases and offer their selection. Picking the one you wanted would bring you to a page that would spell out the physical location of the relevant materials. It was clear enough, Ianto thought, that even Owen should be able to manage it without a catastrophe befalling him.

All the records and paperwork were neatly organised into rows of steel cabinets that lined the rest of the room. They’d been clearly labelled by date, and Ianto had even numbered each row and column to make them easier to identify (it was part of the location information offered by the databases). The lower levels were organised in much the same fashion, though they were where actual objects were kept. He’d added a few other categories - weapons went into Weapons Storage, known medical tools into another room, and so on - but again, the system had been carefully logged and noted. Even an idiot, Ianto thought with satisfaction, could follow the directions of the computers and find exactly what they were looking for.

Above the computer, Ianto had stuck a laminated note. It read:

Before me things create were none, save things
Eternal, and eternal I endure.
All hope abandon ye who enter here.

Unless you ask the computer. It knows all. No, seriously, ask the computer unless you already know where you’re going. Come to think of it, ask the computer anyway.

If you still manage to get lost, you have no sense of direction, but I will be willing to help.

If you destroy something/put things out of order, becoming Myfanwy’s dinner is the least of your worries.

Sincerely,
Ianto Jones

Ianto was rather proud of his handiwork (the archives, not the note, though he meant every word of it). The team was… incredulous.

“How the hell did you manage this?” Jack asked, staring in wonder at the (neat! clean! not absolutely terrifying! possibly navigable!) archives.

“Hard work,” Ianto said. “You know what they say. Dyfal donc a dyr y garreg.”

“Actually,” Jack said, giving Ianto a totally blank look. “I don’t know what they say. What was that?”

Ianto rolled his eyes. “And you’ve lived in Wales how long?” Gwen, he noticed, was trying hard not to laugh, and he felt a surprising flash of camaraderie. “But fine, you linguistic plebeian, have an alternative. Ishi no ue ni mo sannen.”

“The light dawns!” Tosh exclaimed, clapping her hands together. “I think it might also be appropriate to say korogaru ishi ni koke musazu.”

“True,” Ianto conceded.

“Jack?” Owen nearly whined, looking to their leader as the only other person who had no clue what was going on.

“Stop talking in languages I don’t know,” Jack complained, mock-glowering at Ianto.

“Oh yeah, that’s going to work,” Owen grumbled.

“Would one of you care to give an English equivalent?” Ianto asked casually.

“Patience is a virtue,” Tosh and Gwen said simultaneously, then started laughing at the looks on Jack’s and Owen’s faces.

Before anyone could say anything, however, one of their alerts went off. It wasn’t the Rift alarm, thankfully, but they all started up to the Hub main anyway. Jack gave Ianto’s hand a squeeze as he went by. Good job on the archives, he said. Wouldn’t have thought it possible, my miracle-worker.

The warm glow Ianto felt at those words stayed with him all the way out to the place where the alien spacecraft had decided to crash.

“What are the odds?” Gwen asked. “That it would crash here instead of, say, New York?”

“Actually, pretty good,” Jack said, surprisingly. Tosh looked up in interest. “See, by the time a civilisation has technology good enough for inter-galactic, or at least inter-solar travel, that tech is also generally at least Rift-sensitive. Anything with tech like that on board would be pulled here because of all the free-floating Rift energy.”

“And you know this because…” Owen began sceptically.

Jack shrugged. “You don’t have to believe it if you don’t want to,” he said. “There’s a star that-a-way,” he added, pointing briefly at the sky before returning his attention to the road. “About, I dunno, twenty-four light years away? Twin stars, actually, though the dwarf is, well, dwarfed by its twin in the sky. Five planets in the system, and the fourth one from the stars has seven moons. Two of those moons are icy and the others are all hot and sandy.”

“… Your point being?” Owen asked, when Jack fell silent.

“Oh, no point, really,” Jack said casually. Ianto carefully slotted the information away in his head, knowing full well that Jack did in fact have a point to make. He had his suspicions about what that point was, but he could wait till they were alone to ask.

“Right,” Owen said, rolling his eyes and tapping his fingers on the dashboard. “Thank you for that spectacular bit of uselessness.”

“You’re welcome,” Jack said, and if there was a touch of melancholic nostalgia in his voice, no one else seemed to pick it up.

Fortunately, the alien craft had crashed far enough out of the way that it hadn’t as yet been spotted. Also fortunately, Jack took one look at it and proclaimed it space junk - a vehicle that had been tossed off a larger ship because it was outmoded or faulty in some way. While Gwen questioned an unforthcoming Jack about how he knew that, Ianto helped Tosh set up and take a few preliminary readings.

The initial scans didn’t reveal any surprises waiting for them inside, so they cautiously entered the craft. It looked, Ianto thought uncharitably, like someone had raided a movie hanger and tossed out a prop for a science-fiction movie. Only the residual energy on the ship - characteristic of space travel - stopped him from voicing that theory. It was also uncommonly hot inside the spacecraft, a stark change from the outside, and Ianto had to take off his jacket before he combusted. He slung it neatly over his arm as he looked around, his attention caught by a doorway on the far end of the craft.

“Big open room,” Ianto observed. “What’s this for?”

Jack glanced over. “No clue. Anything in it?”

Ianto took a step forward, Gwen close on his heels as he looked around.

“It’s empty,” she reported.

“Strange sort of markings on the base of the walls, though,” Ianto pointed out, crouching to get a closer look.

“Markings?” Jack asked. It was all Ianto heard before said markings flashed white, a shrill alarm blared once, and the craft tilted side-ways.

Or no, wait, that was him. Ianto rolled himself to his feet, instinctively using his arm for leverage as he tried to get up - and yelped involuntarily as his right arm and left ankle simultaneously protested the attempt. That hadn’t been a good idea. He heard a dazed groan from the other end of the room and hurriedly groped around - jacket, jacket, where was his bloody jacket - fingers finally closing on the soft material. He threw it over his arm, wrapping it round in some slight form of support. With his left hand, he braced his right forearm, and considered getting up. The painful twinge in his ankle made him decide he’d rather stay seated.

“Ow,” Gwen commented, sitting up and rubbing her head.

“All right there?” Ianto asked.

“Yeah,” she said, getting to her feet and brushing herself off. Ianto leaned back against the wall, trying to look casual as he stared at where the doorway had once been. It was now a smooth, impenetrable wall.

Yan?

Here, Ianto replied. What just happened?

“Uh, I don’t think that was supposed to happen,” Gwen commented, also staring at the once-doorway.

Safety mechanism, near as I can remember, Jack said. This used to be a prisoner transport. What you’re in now is the cell the prisoners would be in.

“No, I don’t think so,” Ianto said. “Some sort of safety feature, probably. I doubt there’s a way out from the inside.” Lovely, he told Jack. I don’t suppose you know how to get us out of here?

Yeah, I know how the systems work, Jack said. Just need to find the right controls, which could take some time - they’re pretty complicated. All right till then?

Of course, Ianto said. It wasn’t really like they had a choice.

“Has to be something,” Gwen insisted. Ianto turned slightly to study the now-reddish markings on the base of the walls.

“I really don’t think so,” he said. “Not according to Jack, anyway. Any key to opening this room is on the outside. He’s having a look around now.”

“According to Jack?” Gwen asked in confusion, and Ianto tapped his head. Her expression cleared, then just as quickly morphed into frustration. “Then what do we do?”

“We sit down and calm ourselves,” Ianto said, looking at her pointedly. “We don’t know if this room is air-tight, and I don’t see the point in wasting our oxygen supply yelling about things we can’t change.”

Gwen gave him a look of mingled disbelief and anger, but sat down nonetheless. “We just wait to die then, is that what you’re saying?” she demanded.

“I’m saying,” Ianto said patiently. “That we wait for the others to find a way to get us out. The release is on the other side; they just need to locate it.”

“And what if they don’t?” Gwen said.

“They will,” Ianto said, shifting slightly to try and make himself comfortable. The pain in his arm and ankle was making it impossible, though.

“I hope so,” Gwen said, sighing as she drew her legs up to her chest. “You seem awfully sure they’ll figure it out.”

“I have faith in Jack,” Ianto said simply.

“That easy?” Gwen asked, tilting her head to the side.

“Yep,” Ianto said.

Gwen shook her head wonderingly. “I know you’re together and all that, Ianto,” she said slowly. “But don’t you think you’re placing rather… unreasonable expectations on him?”

“Not at all,” Ianto said, tamping down the annoyance. He was suddenly, inordinately glad that Jack wasn’t listening in on this conversation.

“You can’t expect him to be right all the time,” Gwen pressed. “He’s human, he can make mistakes. You can’t expect miracles of him.”

“I’m fully aware that he is human,” Ianto said. “I have a reasonable understanding of his capabilities, and getting us out of here is well within them.”

“How can you know that, though?” It was clear that Gwen was getting annoyed as well - though why, Ianto couldn’t imagine. “It’s not like he shares anything of himself with us. It’s like pulling teeth to get him to confide anything in us.”

Ianto bit his lip hard in an attempt not to say the first words that leapt to mind. “He doesn’t like being pushed,” he said instead.

“I don’t think I know how not to,” Gwen said, a tad ruefully.

“Occasionally, that’s a good thing,” Ianto said, tactfully leaving out the other part of the sentence. Gwen heard it anyway; that much was clear in the way her face suddenly flushed and she looked away from him.

“It’s important though,” she argued.

“Sometimes, yes,” Ianto agreed. “That’s part of the reason why Jack wanted you on the team, to provide possible alternatives. Have to remember though, that sometimes there simply aren’t any other alternatives.”

Gwen shook her head. “If we’re talking about - I don’t know - messing up people’s lives, then there has to be some other way,” she insisted.

“If it’s at the cost of a hundred other people’s lives?” Ianto asked. “What exactly do you think we’re capable of - miracles?”

Gwen flinched. She’d make a terrible poker player, Ianto thought absently. She had absolutely no control over the emotions she displayed.

“We have to look at all the different ways though,” she said, but her assertion now had the ring of desperation to it. Ianto suspected that her naivety had already been on the way to being broken down by the sheer weight of what Torchwood exposed one to. But without anyone to call her on her lingering - attachments, delusions, whatever one wanted to call them - she hadn’t made it all the way through.

Maybe she shouldn’t, Ianto thought, feeling suddenly tired. This was what Torchwood did to people. Turned them into jaded, cynical bastards. “True,” he said. “And yet, that’s also a foolproof way of missing what’s right in front of you.”

“What do -” Gwen began, but the markings on the wall suddenly flashed white again and the doorway reappeared. The team was standing there, looking relieved at seeing Ianto and Gwen again.

“Oh, thank god,” Gwen said, getting to her feet. “It’s not going to do the vanishing thing again, is it?”

“Nope,” Jack said. “I disabled it. You all right?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Just a bit tossed about.”

“Okay, good,” he said, moving past her to crouch down next to Ianto. “Yan, what happened?”

“Not a lucky arm,” Ianto said, and Jack’s face fell.

“Owen, possible broken arm,” Jack called out as he carefully removed the jacket Ianto had wrapped around his arm.

“Think I twisted my ankle or something, too,” Ianto added, catching a glimpse of Gwen’s stricken face over Owen’s shoulder. “That’s not too bad, though.” Jack settled down near Ianto, staying out of Owen’s way as the medic set his bag down.

“Gonna have to cut off the sleeve,” he warned Ianto, who sighed in resignation and nodded. Owen carefully cut off almost three-quarters of the sleeve to expose his arm. A quick examination using the field scanner revealed a hairline fracture in the ulna, which Owen quickly splinted up. His ankle was just badly pulled, as it turned out - nothing a few days off it and constant icing wouldn’t fix. Owen deemed it necessary for Ianto not to put any weight on the leg for at least a day, and somewhat embarrassingly, Jack decided to take that as permission to haul Ianto around like a sack of potatoes.

Okay, so he actually carried him bridal-style and it was quite flattering that the strain didn’t tell on him at all. Ianto was under no illusions as to how much he actually weighed.

Stop being embarrassed, Jack scolded him. This is the most practical way to carry you, what with having to watch your arm as well.

Yes, yes, Ianto grumbled. Just hurry up and get me to the SUV.

Why? Jack asked. I’m enjoying myself.

Jack!

Fine, Jack pouted. Spoilsport. You seemed rather annoyed while stuck in there.

Little chat with Gwen, Ianto sighed.

Oh dear, Jack murmured, knowing full well that his lover wasn’t quite comfortable with the ex-constable. All right there?

Eventually, Ianto said. Jack pulled him in a little closer to his chest, and Ianto gave in to the urge to snuggle, resting his head on Jack’s chest. If he focused, he could hear the steady thump-thumping of Jack’s heart - beating in time with his own, which he could feel pulsing in his throbbing arm. That was interesting.

Gonna be any problems? Jack asked teasingly. Am I gonna have to keep you two apart at playtime?

If you want any kind of playtime with me, Jack -

I’ll behave, Jack promised quickly. They reached the SUV and Tosh opened the door for them while Jack awkwardly manoeuvred Ianto into the seat.

“Want to go back now, or can you wait?” Jack asked, his hand lingering on the back of Ianto’s neck.

“I can wait,” Ianto said. “It doesn’t actually hurt that much now.” However acerbic Owen was, no one could deny that he was an excellent doctor, and a proficient field medic. Ianto had turned down the painkillers Owen had offered, but simply having his injuries immobilised was helping him keep the pain under control.

“All right,” Jack said, kissing his forehead. “We’ll be quick.”

They actually wound up taking five more hours to deactivate the spacecraft, dismantle the wreckage and pile it into the back and top of the SUV. Fortunately, once it had been taken apart, it just looked like scrap metal, so they weren’t going to get any raised eyebrows driving through town with bits of an alien spacecraft strapped to the roof. Ianto dozed off while waiting, which was all fine and good as far as he was concerned. The faint twinges of pain didn’t register when he was asleep.

He woke up only when the others got into the SUV, and Jack leaned over to buckle Ianto’s seatbelt for him. “Done?” he slurred sleepily. Jack took the opportunity to kiss his cheek before settling into his own seat.

“Yep,” he said. “All in pieces, ready for analysis. Nothing interesting in it, really.”

“Was it Dfajgkd?” Ianto asked, yawning.

“How did you know that?” Jack asked, throwing him an incredulous look as he reversed the SUV.

“Was it what now?” Tosh asked, leaning forward from where she was sitting, sandwiched between Gwen and Owen.

“Dfajgkd,” Jack repeated. “Which yeah, it was. How did you know?”

“Brian,” Ianto said, rubbing his eyes with his uninjured hand. “One of the best alien linguists around. He tried teaching me a bit, but it’s really complicated. I recognised the script, though.”

Jack whistled. “Did he manage to figure out the language? It’s pretty hard.”

“More or less,” Ianto said. “Of course, we don’t know how accurate his translations were, but I think they were generally right.”

“Is he still working?” Owen asked.

“No,” Ianto said. “He -” told his team to run, got them out while he stayed behind to secure the doors and so he got caught by the Cybermen because electronic door locks are no barrier to them and then “- no, he’s not working for Torchwood anymore.”

“Did you manage to pick up any Dfajgkd?” Jack asked. Ianto latched on to the subtle redirection of topics thankfully.

“Not too much,” he said. “Brian taught me how to read some of the phrases inscribed on a lock-box we found, but that’s all I know.”

“Still,” Jack said. “Being able to read even that much is kind of impressive.”

“Ianto is good with languages,” Tosh pointed out.

“Yeah, quoting strange phrases at me all the time,” Jack grumbled good-naturedly.

“How many languages do you speak, anyway, tea-boy?” Owen asked.

“Welsh and English, of course,” Ianto said.

“Japanese and Spanish,” Tosh supplied.

“French and a bit of Italian,” Jack added. “Oh, and a little German. Anything else?”

“I think you’ve got it covered,” Ianto said dryly.

“Whereas I speak English,” Owen observed. “And… English. And hey, if I’m feeling adventurous, English.”

“Also whatever language it is that Death speaks,” Ianto pointed out.

“Doesn’t count, seeing as I had no bloody clue what I was saying,” Owen retorted. “And now that it’s gone I really don’t remember a thing of it.”

“Oh, oh, Ianto speaks whatever it is the Weevils speak!” Tosh added cheerfully.

“It’s more a phonetic sounding of telepathic sounds,” Ianto said. “I don’t think that counts, since I had it forcibly dumped in my head.”

“Wish that had been possible with Dfajgkd,” Jack complained. “I dropped out of that language module after the first lesson. Took Classical English and Netitian instead.”

“Netitian?” Ianto asked, at the same time that Owen and Tosh asked, “Classical English?”

Um, Jack said, sounding faintly trapped.

Didn’t mean to let that slip, did you?

… Nope.

It won’t do any harm to tell them a bit, Ianto suggested mildly. Jack bit his lip, then sighed.

“Netitian is a language spoken on the planet Carza,” he said. “Same sort of spread and influence that English has here, and most of the trade is conducted in Netitian. Seeing as the clime’s pretty similar to Earth and it’s got relatively few natives, a large part of it is devoted to cultivating crops from Earth and sending them around to the human colonies.”

In the back, Tosh, Owen and (a suspiciously quiet) Gwen exchanged incredulous looks.

“Or at least, that will be the case in a few centuries,” Jack added.

“You lot do remember, don’t you,” Ianto said casually. “That the Doctor has a ship that can travel through time and space?”

“Oh!” Tosh exclaimed, reddening slightly. “Okay, now it makes sense.”

Thank you! Why didn’t I think of that?

Because it’s not foolproof? Ianto said as if it were obvious.

“So when you said Classical English,” Owen said slowly.

Help!

When you were with the Doctor you took a break from the running and took a few classes on a whim? Ianto suggested.

“That was on another planet,” Jack said. “Spent a while there.”

“Pity you didn’t stick with Dfajgkd,” Ianto sighed. “It’s hard, sure, but it looks like a really interesting language.”

“It’s crazy, is what it is,” Jack complained. “Hey, anyone mind if we stop and get some food?”

“Yes,” Owen said indignantly. “I don’t want to sit there and watch you people stuff your faces.”

“Grocery run, then,” Jack suggested. “I don’t feel like take-away tonight.”

“Make it quick,” Owen said.

“Girls?” Jack asked.

“I’m fine,” Tosh said. “Gwen? You’ve been awfully quiet.”

“Oh!” Gwen jumped, then flushed when she realised the attention was on her. “Sorry, I was just - thinking. Yeah, it’s fine with me.”

Ianto looked out the window and pretended he had no idea what was behind Gwen’s distraction. Jack gave him a side-long, suspicious look, but let it go. They finally pulled up outside the supermarket and Jack ran in for the groceries while Ianto told him what to get via their telepathic connection. With Ianto directing him, it didn’t take long to get everything together, and they were heading back to the Hub in short order.

Ianto got to be carried in again, despite his protests that surely he could limp in with some assistance. He suspected that Owen was simply deriving too much pleasure from seeing Ianto embarrassed. Resigned to his fate, Ianto let Jack carry him over to the sofa and set him down carefully, leaving him with another kiss.

A small, evil part of Ianto was kind of happy that his injury at least meant that he wouldn’t have to do the actual work of junking the spacecraft. Jack roped in all the others to help with tossing it into the incinerator, so they got to stand there and slave in the heat for a while until every bit of alien metal had been destroyed.

“Ianto,” Tosh panted when they got back to the main area. She, like the others bar Owen, was covered in sweat. “How do you do it?”

Ianto simply raised an eyebrow, giving them a disdainful look. Jack chuckled tiredly.

“I really need to give you a raise,” he said. “You do so much around here.”

“I’m paid enough, thanks,” Ianto said. “All done down there?”

“Yeah,” Tosh said. “And I need a shower. Jack, all right if we leave?”

Jack glanced at the clock, realising that it was nearly their normal quitting time anyway. “Sure, go ahead,” he said. “Owen, anything else we need to know about Ianto’s arm and leg?”

“I was just going to mention that,” he said as the girls headed for the exit. “Let me give it another once-over and that’ll be it. You know the drill, right?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” Ianto said. “What about walking?”

“Far as possible, stay off that leg,” Owen instructed as he poked and prodded Ianto’s arm. “If you can manage it, grab a crutch. If not, swallow the pride and just let Jack cart you around.”

“Thank you,” Ianto said flatly. “That description is really encouraging me to allow it.”

“Doesn’t it?” Owen said. “Okay, that’s all for now. You’re lucky, it’s a really neat little crack, should heal right up without any problems. I’ll check on it in a week, see how it’s going. Maybe two, three weeks, and it should be just about healed.”

“Thanks,” Ianto said, sincerely this time. Owen quirked a sardonic little smile at him, then got his things together and left.

“So,” Jack said. “I have to ask. What did you say to Gwen?”

Ianto closed his eyes. “Oh, Jack,” he said piteously. “I’m in horrible agony right now and the only thing that could possibly make me feel better is to go to sleep right this moment.”

“Nice try,” Jack said dryly. “What were you talking about?”

Ianto sighed, leaning back in the sofa. “We had a little argument about how much it’s possible for us to do,” he said. “On the one hand, she thinks I’ve got you up on some pedestal and expect too much of you. On the other hand, she thinks there’s always a better alternative, there’s always some way to save everyone.”

“Jasmine’s mother would say otherwise,” Jack said with a trace of bitterness.

“You can see how the argument went,” Ianto said. He opened his eyes but didn’t look at Jack. “You know, when you were - gone, with the Doctor… I spent a lot of time meditating, trying to resolve how I felt. Part of that was how I felt about Gwen.”

“And?” Jack asked, sitting down next to Ianto and taking his hand.

“And - theoretically, I don’t hate her, exactly,” Ianto said. “She’s human, she’s made mistakes. I just don’t think very highly of some of her mistakes -”

“Owen,” Jack filled in.

“- or how she’s dealt with them,” Ianto went on. “And you might not have noticed this, but our personalities are somewhat different.”

“Just a little,” Jack said, grinning.

“Yes, well. I’m not saying it’s bad to be like her, mind,” Ianto said. “Just that it’s not the kind of personality I get along with.”

“There are a lot of people who’d say she and I had similar personalities,” Jack pointed out. “Out-going, friendly…”

“You’re about as alike as she and I are,” Ianto replied. “You do a good job of faking extroversion, Jack, but we both know that’s not you.”

“Really?” Jack asked with a half-smile. Ianto gave him an aggravated look and Jack laughed, holding up his free hand placatingly. “Okay, so what would you say I am?”

“I’m answering that only because you somehow managed to sound genuinely interested,” Ianto told him. “You get along with people, but you rarely connect with them. You’re a private person; you don’t like others to know about you. You’ll only show yourself to someone you trust, and there’re precious few people you trust. I think,” Ianto added slowly. “That you like to test these people by giving them a few pieces of information you don’t personally hold as important, and seeing how they react. That determines whether you’ll reveal more or not. Anywhere near accurate?”

“Perfect on every count,” Jack said. “And I’m referring to the contents of that speech as well as the guy who gave it.”

“You really need to work on your lines,” Ianto said. “Or, you know, skip them.”

Jack smiled, then leaned forward and kissed him briefly before sitting back. “I can’t say I’m happy about everything she does,” he said. “But why doesn’t she rub me the wrong way like she does with you?”

“Don’t know,” Ianto said, looking up at the ceiling so that he wouldn’t have to meet that piercing gaze.

“But you have a theory,” Jack pressed. “You always do. What is it?”

Ianto exhaled slowly. “You need her,” he said bluntly. “Remember how I said Torchwood likes the broken ones? Owen, Tosh, me, we were all broken in some way. Maybe we still are -”

“Not you,” Jack interrupted.

“- but Gwen wasn’t, you see,” Ianto continued without acknowledging the interruption. “Her mistakes are the normal sort. Not the potentially-cause-the-end-of-all-humankind sort.” His voice was bitter and Jack squeezed his hand, unable to find any words to soothe the pain and anger.

It took a moment for Ianto to get control of himself and go on. “So for you, she’s a kind of connection to the rest of the world,” Ianto said. “A baseline for what ‘normal’ people think. And she’s idealistic, which is the sort of thing you’d like to work towards, even if you know it’s not actually possible, not the way she sees it. You see validation in her, but she also has the potential to hurt you, especially since she doesn’t see things like this. She just sees them as right or wrong and doesn’t realise that sometimes there is no other choice. Maybe,” Ianto added sombrely. “That’s another reason why I don’t get along with her.”

There was a long and supremely awkward silence as Jack tried to digest everything that Ianto had just said. “I’ll have to remember,” he finally said, “To never ask you something unless I’m sure I can take the answer.”

“Sorry,” Ianto whispered.

“Don’t be,” Jack said. “You’re right, of course. That’s what makes it hard to hear.”

Ianto smiled slightly, but there was no amusement in his eyes. After a moment, Jack sighed and got up.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he said. Ianto tried not to feel too overwhelmingly relieved at the use of the pet name. “Let’s get to bed. I suspect I’ve got some thinking to do.”

Part Sixteen