Fanfic - The Waters and the Wild 3/3 [Torchwood: Jack/Ianto]
one: bluebells and roses
two: azaleas and yarrow
The Waters and the Wild
-irises and dandelions-
Jack returns to an empty Hub.
This suits him. He has forgotten his password and resorts to the override on his wristband to get inside. Once safely within, he wanders the corridors, trying to remember them. Ianto paces silently at his side, content for now to watch.
Jack’s feet carry him to his office. Little has changed in his absence. Four months, he thinks. He wishes the Doctor could have brought him back closer to when he left, but the instability of the Rift made controlling the landing impossible. In retrospect, he thinks that he should have simply asked the Doctor to land somewhere else, somewhere far enough that the Rift could not have interfered. He could have caught a flight back. It is something to remember, if ever this occurs again. He does not rule out the possibility.
“Are you going back to him?” Ianto asks, pouting.
“I’ll help if he asks me to,” Jack says. He does not comment on the fact that Ianto has seemingly responded to his thoughts.
“What if I don’t want you to?” Ianto says. The little-boy pout has vanished and he has a crafty look in his eyes. Jack’s heart stammers a broken sentence. He cannot make out the words.
“It depends on what he wants,” Jack says. “If it’s to save the world - well, that is my job.”
Ianto laughs and Jack relaxes. That was the correct answer, he thinks. For now.
Jack walks routes he has forgotten in the wake of pain and death and pain and death. He logs into Toshiko’s computer in search of his errant team. They have all gone out on a suspected alien sighting. It should not take them more than a few hours, and then they will return. Jack wonders what he should say to them. What he can possibly say. He wonders how they will react. With guilt, thinking that their actions had driven him off? Or with anger at his abandoning them with no word? It is likely to be the latter, he thinks. His team has always preferred to react with anger.
“I should have broken him,” Ianto says darkly.
“Don’t,” Jack says. “He’s a good doctor.”
“He hurt you,” Ianto says. “Shot you. Made you dead.”
Jack smiles at that turn of phrase. Ianto sounds so much like a child at times. “Yeah, he did,” he says. “But he’s still a good doctor. And somehow, I don’t think he’ll try it again.”
Ianto’s head tilts to one side. Jack thinks of a bird. A red kite, watching. Once, a long time ago, he had climbed Snowdon in search of a supposed alien artefact that had landed there. He had found no trace of the artefact, but he had come across a nesting red kite. It had peered at him with large eyes, ruffling its black-streaked feathers. Its tail was forked as a serpent’s tongue. Jack had backed away slowly, unwilling to disturb it and unwilling to take his eyes away from it.
It had not been a particularly majestic bird, but it had completely captivated him.
A year later, Jack had returned to Snowdon. Or Yr Wyddfa, as the locals insisted on calling it. He supposed it was only good manners to call the mountain by its local name. In any case, he had gone for pleasure that second time, not business. He had climbed the mountain once more, looking for red kites.
He had found none.
“Can you fly?” Jack asks.
“Sometimes,” Ianto says. It is more of an answer than Jack was expecting.
“Do you like it?” Jack asks.
A small smile. “Sometimes,” Ianto replies.
Jack smiles back. He should have expected that. It nearly surprises him that he did not. Nearly, because he has learned by now never to be surprised by the faeries.
The trick, Jack thinks, is to always be surprised.
John Hart reaches out to push Jack off the building. He is intercepted by an angry young man in a fitted suit.
“What, you’ve got another one on the team?” John asks, stepping back and away from Ianto. Jack smirks at the thought of being able to back out of faerie reach.
“He’s not quite a team member,” Jack says. “I’m beginning to think he should be, though.”
“I’d rather not,” Ianto says, glaring at John.
“So you just want to be his bodyguard then?” John asks. Jack notes the minute twitch of his left eyebrow that means he is thinking. Recalibrating his plans. He still hasn’t learned to hide his tells, Jack thinks. Unless he is faking it, in which case, he is trying to throw Jack off. Of course, Jack has never seen fit to tell John about his miniscule give-away, and so it is far more likely that John does not know it exists.
“He’s mine,” Ianto declares petulantly.
“He’s right,” Jack says. “I’m his. All that you were saying, John? The stars, out there for the taking? I don’t want them. This is where I’m staying.”
“For eye-candy there?” John asks, arching one perfect eyebrow in disbelief.
“He’s so much more than that,” Jack laughs. A strong wind gusts around them, rocking John back on his feet. “Now, then. Why don’t you tell us exactly why you’re here, John?”
The team is not surprised to see Jack bring John back into the Hub at gun-point. They are, however, surprised to see Ianto follow them in.
“Tell me he’s not another partner,” Owen demands.
“What, they don’t know about eye-candy there?” John drawls, sounding remarkably composed for someone with a gun to his back. Jack realises abruptly that John still has a card up his sleeve. Time will tell what the card is.
Time. Peculiar that he should choose that particular phrase.
“They know of him,” Jack says. “They just haven’t had a face to put to him yet.”
“Faces,” Ianto says thoughtfully. “Strange things, these faces.”
“I’m sure you could change it out if you like,” Jack says. He cuffs John to the chair and briskly frisks him for any more weapons. Just in case. It pays off, when he finds the gun tucked against John’s back.
“And fashion another body?” Ianto asks. “I’ll stick with this.”
“What’s he talking about?” Gwen asks nervously. “And who is he?”
“Later,” Jack says. He reaches under John’s shirt and fastens something to his chest without letting anyone see what it is. Then he stands back and crosses his arms. “Start talking.”
“Wouldn’t hurt an old friend now, would you, Jack?” John says, smirking up at Jack.
Jack smiles back, then very deliberately raises his wristband so John can see it. The fear painted on John’s face escapes no one, as Jack presses first one, then another button. His finger hovers over another button.
“Yes or no, John?” he asks pleasantly.
“You wouldn’t,” John says in a low voice.
Jack presses the button.
His team’s screams blend with John’s. Jack lets it go on for ten seconds before pressing the button again.
“Jack!” Owen yells, clattering down the stairs. He hits an invisible wall of wind and gets no further. “What the fuck was that for?!”
“Lessons learned,” Jack says. “This is faster. And he knows something I want.”
Ianto laughs, and Jack smiles at him briefly.
“You bastard,” John gasps.
“Talk and it stops,” Jack says. “I’ll tell you now that after the fifth application, I’ll get creative. And believe me, I’ve had lots of inspiration recently.”
“Money, all right?” John spits.
Money is what it comes down to. Money is why John shot Owen, poisoned Gwen and tried to kill Jack. To add insult to injury, Jack finds that John’s treasure map has in fact led him to a bomb.
“That bitch!” John shrieks upon realising he has been played.
“Crazy exes,” Jack agrees, shaking his head. Ianto laughs as John stares at the bomb attached to him in terror. Jack watches as Ianto savours the fear for a few moments, then touches the bomb. It falls neatly into his hand.
“Do you want to keep it?” Jack asks.
Ianto tosses it casually. “Not me,” he says. “The others might like to play with it.” He leans forward, as if imparting a secret. “They’re quite childish sometimes.”
Jack laughs. “In contrast to you,” he says playfully.
“Oh, yes,” Ianto says earnestly. “I’m not interested in silly toys like that. You’re the best toy there is.”
“And if they think that too?” Jack asks impulsively. Toshiko inhales sharply, and even John looks bewildered.
Ianto’s eyes darken to bluebells. “You’re mine,” he hisses sharply. “They’re not allowed to have you.”
Jack considers that for a moment. “Promise me that?” he says.
Ianto smiles slyly and presents Jack with a bluebell out of thin air. Gwen swallows a shriek and backs up straight into Owen, who steadies her with a hand on her back. “Primrose promise,” Ianto says.
Jack swallows, accepting the bluebell. “Evening primrose?” he asks.
“You’re smart,” Ianto says, patting Jack’s arm condescendingly.
“Occasionally,” Jack says. He looks at John. “So, what to do with you.”
“What,” John says, staring between Jack and Ianto. “Is going on with the two of you?”
“Not any of your business,” Jack says. “All right. We’ve handled why you’re here. Now I want something else from you.”
John slouches in his chair. “I don’t have anything else,” he says sullenly. “I came here for the diamond. Nothing else.”
“Maybe,” Jack concedes. “But you know something else. Something to do with me.” He pauses, then raises his arm significantly. “The nerve trigger’s still connected, Johnnie-boy.”
Jack uses the torture device three more times before pausing so that John can take a breather. Ianto keeps the other three frozen in place to prevent them from interfering. No doubt, Jack thinks, they are aghast at this side of their leader. This side they have never seen because Jack has always been careful to shield them from it. He is a better man now than he once was, but this - this has always been a necessary evil at times.
It hardly matters. He will Retcon them before sending them on home. They will remember John, but nothing after arriving back at base. It will be easy enough to blame everything on John, and to claim that John had killed him instead of Retconning him. Jealous exes, after all.
John is a bobble-head doll with faulty innards, barely keeping his head on. His ragged breaths sound painful, but Jack does not feel pity for him.
He waits until he is sure that the ringing has cleared from John’s ears. Then he speaks. “One more,” he says pleasantly. “Remember, after that? I get creative. I could do the artwork thing.” He taps his chin thoughtfully. “Always thought I’d make a good artist.”
“Painting in blood?” Ianto asks interestedly.
“It’s painting on skin, really,” Jack corrects. “Either with a blowtorch or a knife. I haven’t made up my mind yet.”
“I -” John says, then stops to cough. Jack patiently waits until the coughing fit ends. John looks up at him, eyes blazing with anger. “I found Grey.”
Jack’s face closes down. “You what,” he says.
“I found Grey,” John snarls. “Thought you might like him back.”
“And how is he doing?” Jack enquires, leaning against a table.
“Fuck off,” John says. Jack eyes him for a while, his body perfectly still. Ianto amuses himself by gusting the papers off the table and setting them to dance around John in a parody of a faerie dance.
Then Jack nods decisively and heads for the medical bay. Owen fights uselessly against the pressure holding him in place. Ianto looks directly at him and smirks.
Jack returns with a syringe. John’s eyes roll as Jack approaches.
“Still haven’t gotten over that fear of needles?” Jack asks, smiling. “Don’t worry. This won’t hurt a bit.”
The syringe contains a partial dose of liquid Retcon, just enough to erase John’s memories of being tortured. Jack could have kept it up and gotten the information from John that way, but there is no point in making enemies when there are easier methods.
Ianto helps by holding John’s arm down. Jack thanks him with a kiss, which grows steadily more heated as they wait for the drug to take effect. It is not long before John falls asleep. There is something perverse, Jack thinks delightedly, about making out with Ianto in front of John and his team while they are literally held captive.
Ianto laughs into his mouth, then bites Jack’s tongue, drawing blood. Evidently, Ianto is also amused by the idea.
When John starts to stir, Jack reluctantly pulls away from Ianto and re-settles his clothes. Ianto sinks against his side, nuzzling his neck, and Jack cannot help but curl an arm around him and pull him closer. It is to this sight that John wakes up.
“What -?” he asks groggily. Then he comes more fully awake and pulls against the restraints holding him in place. “Whoa, Jack. Kinky much?”
Jack smirks. “Just taking a few precautions,” he says.
John pouts attractively. “So you don’t want to have wild sex now?” he asks. “We could invite the rest of your team. Eye-candy, too.”
Jack kisses the side of Ianto’s head. “Ianto doesn’t share,” he says.
“Kept man?” John asks mockingly.
“Very much so,” Jack agrees. Ianto smiles against his neck. John gives Jack a disbelieving look.
“So,” Jack says. “Found out what you were after. And you should be extremely glad we were here, because you would have died otherwise.”
John raises an eyebrow. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Jack says, smiling. Ianto produces the bomb out of nowhere and tosses it onto the table near John. John refuses to track its path until Jack nods to it. Then he reluctantly looks at it.
“Biological bomb, pretty much,” Jack says. “Latches on to the specified DNA and then, ten minutes later? Boom. You really shouldn’t kill your exes, you know. Some of them are just smart enough to know exactly how to get revenge.”
“What?” John asks in disbelief.
“Your ex,” Jack explains patiently. “No Arcadian diamond, John. It was all just bait to get you to find this bomb. To kill you.”
John utters a few words that have not yet been invented.
“I don’t think that’s anatomically possible,” Jack says. “Unless you were talking about a Hkemvert, maybe. Not too many bones, those guys.”
John glowers mutely at the bomb.
“So,” Jack says. “You know what this means.”
John rolls his eyes. “God, this is just bloody perfect,” he grumbles. “I was supposed to retire on this thing!”
Jack smirks. “You think?” he says. “Maybe you should have spent it on murder rehab.”
“Never works,” John says. “I’ve been twice.”
“Not going to the right people, obviously,” Jack says. “I’ve got a question for you now. What is it you know?”
John shrugs as best he can while strapped down. “Don’t know what you’re talking about, Captain.” He imbues the last word with as much innuendo as Jack on a good day.
“Really,” Jack says sceptically. “Remember those two weeks, John?”
“Five years,” John says with a smirk.
“Long enough to learn you,” Jack says.
“Wish I could say the same,” John mutters.
“What are you hiding from me?” Jack asks. “It’s something to do with me, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, okay,” John says, sighing. “I was hoping to do this at a better time, you know?”
“Do what?” Jack says.
“Don’t panic, okay?” John says. “But I found Grey.”
Jack’s eyes widen in a convincing simulation of surprise. “You what?” he gasps.
“Yeah, only he’s not doing so hot,” John says.
“Is he hurt?” Jack asks, his eyes darkening with distress. Ianto lifts his head.
“Not physically,” John says. “Those people that kidnapped him… look, they did a number on him before he finally escaped, right? And, well, he blames you. Grew up blaming you for him getting kidnapped. I know what you were like when you joined the Time Agency, using every trick in the book to try and find him, and I know it wasn’t your fault. So I’ve been trying to talk to him, talk him out of… getting revenge on you.”
“He wants revenge?” Jack whispers, no longer feigning grief. Ianto straightens, pulling back enough to study Jack’s face. “On me?”
“He’s not thinking straight, I guess,” John says. “Wants to kill you. Actually, wants to wipe out anything that’s important to you and then kill you.”
“Details?” Jack asks hoarsely. Ianto is rigid next to him. Jack cannot spare the energy to think about how he will pay for this later.
John hesitates. “Nothing specific yet,” he says. “He doesn’t know enough just yet. But look, he was there when I found you, so he knows you’ve been staying here for a while. While means he’ll probably try and attack the city at least. If he finds out about your merry band here, he’ll probably go after them too. You’ll be last.”
“I see,” Jack says.
“It’s what he’s been talking about,” John says. “But that’s the craziness talking, right? You’re his big brother, he’ll come around.”
Ianto licks his lips thoughtfully. Jack does not look at him.
“I’ve been telling him about how you used to hack into the secure systems to search for him,” John goes on. “All that stuff. He’ll see it wasn’t your fault.”
For a brief moment, Jack allows himself to believe that. Then he smiles a terrible parody of a smile.
“Murder rehab,” he says. “Never works.”
Grey greets Jack with a knife to the gut. This, Jack thinks, was both what he expected and yet not. Ianto watches as Grey smiles, watches as the smile falters, watches as Jack pulls away the syringe and staggers back, holding his side.
Jack knows that this wound means he will bleed out slowly. He wonders absently if he has used enough sedative to keep Grey knocked out until he comes back to life.
Ianto looks at him with unreadable bluebell eyes.
Then Jack tastes bluebells at the back of his throat, and he falls thankfully into the quick death.
He gasps alive to find Ianto bending over Grey.
“Ianto?” he asks, coughing up petals even as he pulls himself to his feet.
“He’s still here,” Ianto says, not looking up. He is crouched, child-like, by Grey’s shoulders, peering down at his face.
“Still out?” Jack asks, and checks for himself before Ianto can say anything. Grey is still quite unconscious.
“Shall I wear his face?” Ianto asks in disgust.
Jack looks up in genuine surprise. “What?”
“Shall I wear his face?” Ianto asks. “Will you like me better then?”
Jack very nearly swallows his tongue. “I’ve - never been into incest,” he says cautiously. “And I quite like your face the way it is.”
Ianto stands up abruptly and kicks Grey in the neck like a child kicking a pebble. Jack flinches.
“You like him more,” Ianto accuses.
“I don’t,” Jack says. “He’s half-right. It was my fault. I let go of his hand.” He tries desperately to remember what he can of that terrible day, willing Ianto to see it and understand.
Understand. Is he honestly seeking understanding from a faerie?
“Humans,” Ianto says contemptuously. “And your guilt.”
“Yes,” Jack breathes. “But that’s all it is. It doesn’t mean I like him more than you.”
“Do you like me?” Ianto demands.
A half-smile plays across Jack’s lips. “Oh, yes.”
Ianto studies him for a while, then reluctantly relaxes. “I will take him away,” he says, looking back down at Grey.
“Will it - will he be hurt?” Jack asks, swallowing hard. He had been planning on freezing Grey in cryogenic storage, but perhaps -
“I will give him to mine,” Ianto decides, and Jack abruptly realises that he has lost any chance of talking Ianto out of this course of action. “He will work for us.”
“But he won’t be mistreated,” Jack presses, desperate enough to risk everything.
“He will remain unharmed,” Ianto says stiffly.
“Thank you,” Jack says.
There is no outward sign of what has happened. Over the next few weeks, Jack knows, Grey will slowly sicken and eventually die. Or his shell will, since his substance has already crossed the realms into the faerie world. He will be taken care of there, but kept under control and unable to inflict harm on anyone else.
Jack thinks of what he has done for Grey. He has demonstrated that he loves Grey. He has placed Grey’s welfare above his trust in Ianto.
And tonight, he will pay for daring to do so.
It does not go as Jack expects it to.
Ianto is tender. Loving. He places Jack’s pleasure above his own. He gives Jack everything Jack wants. He is attentive, worshipful.
He is completely jealous.
“Am not,” Ianto says, pulling away abruptly.
“You are,” Jack says slowly, in wonder.
“What would I be jealous of?” Ianto scoffs. Jack rolls over to look at him. Ianto glares at his ceiling.
“Grey,” Jack says. “The fact that I love him.”
Ianto makes an inhuman sound, low in his throat. Jack ignores it. He is quite skilled at ignoring obvious warning signs.
“You’re jealous I love Grey and my team,” Jack says. “That even when I have problems with any of them I care enough to try and work things out with them.”
Ianto slides off the bed and paces away. His movements are jerky, as if he is longing to rip apart the body he wears and let his true nature show through. Jack wonders what it would look like. What Ianto might do to him. He can taste bluebell nectar slowly rising in his throat.
“You are, aren’t you?” Jack says, his voice choked. “Even though you don’t have to be. I love you too, you know. And yet you’re jealous of them.”
A sound like a cascading waterfall sings through Jack’s ears. It is the last thing he hears before his throat clogs up with bluebells and he loses all his breath and blackness descends in spots over his eyes.
Later, when he opens his eyes, it is to a single purple hyacinth lying next to him.
The team accepts what he tells them.
Jack is not surprised by their trust. It is a believable story. At his request, they put together a quick summary of everything they have encountered while he has been gone. They have managed, he realises, to hide his absence from anyone asking after him. It will make things easier on him. He leans back in his chair, listening as Toshiko describes a cluster of Weevil attacks. He thinks of bluebells and evening primroses.
It is easier than Jack thought it would be to fall back into his old patterns.
Often, when he is alone, Ianto will come to him. Most of the time, they have sex. Occasionally, Jack will tell Ianto something he would never tell anyone else.
Every time he does, Ianto smiles as if knowing what it has cost Jack to reveal himself.
They never speak of Jack’s accusations and Ianto’s reaction.
Jack falls back easily on his old persona when he interrogates Beth Halloran. His team’s reactions to his torture of John are fresh in his mind, and he does not want to alienate them any more than absolutely necessary. He therefore does not physically torture Beth, though he thinks that it would have been interesting to find out what could have possibly gotten through her shields. Mental and emotional intimidation, on the other hand, is more easily accepted.
He cannot fathom why this is the case. Mental scars always take longer to heal than physical ones. Even with physical abuse, it is usually not the body but the mind that gives up. He remembers Toshiko’s unhappiness when, once upon a time, he had used Janet as bait. We wouldn’t do that to a human, she had said, so what makes it all right to treat a Weevil that way? Except she had been wrong, of course, because if it had been the only way, Jack would have used a human as bait with exactly as little remorse as he had felt for Janet.
They stop half of Great Britain from going up in smoke. Once the immediate threat is over, Jack allows the exhaustion and blood loss to hit him. Gwen and Beth manage, between them, to carry his limp body back to the SUV.
Jack resigns himself to bleeding out slowly in the backseat. Instead, he feels his throat fill. The air stops. When he gasps back to life, he is unsurprised to be spitting out bluebell petals.
“Jack?” Gwen asks. She is driving, and cannot see him clearly.
“I’m fine,” Jack says.
“Sure about that?” she asks.
“Yeah,” Jack says, closing his eyes. “Just thinking about what I’ll do to whoever decided to hide nuclear weapons here without telling me.”
“They’re going to regret it, aren’t they?” Gwen asks, amusement in her voice.
“If I get answers I don’t like,” Jack says. “Somebody’s gonna get spanked. And not in a good way.”
Gwen laughs incredulously. Beth does not. Jack wonders, absently, if his body absorbs bluebells into itself every time he comes back to life.
Jack knows that he cannot hide Ianto’s existence from his team for much longer. He suspects that they have forgotten about the faeries. That the knowledge has been suppressed by everything that has happened since. He can understand, in a way. Ianto is not a constant presence in their lives the way he is in Jack’s.
Eventually, they will find out. Jack wonders if he should control it. Inform them ahead of time. Or whether he should let things play out as they will.
He chooses the second option. It is easier to predict a person’s reactions when that person has no foreknowledge. He knows that this will allow him greater control over his team. And control is one of the things he craves.
In the end, it is Rhys who gives the game away. Rhys and Gwen. One taken hostage and one willingly giving up. Idiot, Jack thinks in despair. Not for the first time, he questions the wisdom of keeping her on the team. She keeps destroying his plans by going against his orders. Keeps forcing him to make up new ones on the spot. He does not like the feeling of being out of control, even if only for a second.
Jack weighs his options. Two men and one elsewhere. He is confident that he can take out the two, but does the last also have a gun? Things might prove more dangerous in that case. It would be safer to play along, to put himself between Toshiko and the immediate threat. But if he dies, it will take time to revive, and anything could happen in that time.
He hates not knowing the situation he will awaken to.
Ianto takes the decision out of his hands. All at once, the men start choking. The one who has Rhys lets go, and Rhys wastes no time in lurching out of the way. Jack steps out of hiding, lowering his gun. He recognises the sound. Recognises the faint smell on the air.
“Thank you,” he calls out.
“Jack?” Gwen exclaims.
Jack holsters his gun and unties Rhys. He is secure in the knowledge that even if the men manage to find the energy to fire their guns, the bullets will not hit their targets. Ianto, like all his kind, does not like the touch of metal. Especially iron. But unlike most of his kind, he is strong enough to overcome the instinctive weakness, at least for a time.
This is either terrifying or reassuring. Jack has not made up his mind on which.
“What’s going on?” Toshiko asks. The men’s violent hacking is impossible to ignore. Their flailing attempts at getting air into their lungs are comically pathetic.
“I’m with her,” Rhys says. “What the bloody hell is going on here?”
There is still more than a hint of suspicion and anger in his attitude towards Jack.
“Ianto?” Jack calls.
“You ought to be more careful,” Ianto says. Jack turns and sees him standing there in the shadows. Toshiko’s gun is instantly trained on him. Jack pushes her arms down.
“Stand down,” he says. “He’s not going to hurt us.”
Ianto turns a dispassionate eye on the men, who have collapsed. Their limbs are twitching in a last, desperate grasp at life. Jack watches as the movement ceases. He can pinpoint the moment when they all die. He has no doubt that the unseen watcher who gave him and Toshiko away is also dead.
“Thanks for the help,” he tells Ianto.
“Jack?” Toshiko hisses under her breath. “Who is he? What happened?”
Owen arrives with sedative and pulls up short at the tableau before him. “The hell?” he mutters.
“Get this guy sedated,” Jack orders him. Owen is clearly confused, but moves to do as he is told. The massive creature lows pitifully, but succumbs to the drug much faster than Jack expects it to. No doubt there is much to be explored about the physiology of this creature. In the meantime, though, there is work to be done.
“So,” Owen says, joining Toshiko. She is still holding her gun, refusing to put it away. At least, Jack thinks, she is no longer holding it on Ianto. “What happened?”
“Those guys just started choking on nothing,” Toshiko says. “And died. Jack? Was it poison or something?”
“Or something,” Jack agrees mildly. Ianto smiles and steps forward. Toshiko’s arms come up again and again, Jack pushes them down. This time, he adds a glare.
“Don’t,” he says.
“Who is he?” Gwen demands. She has, at some point, recovered her gun. Jack is annoyed to find that she is also aiming it at Ianto. “Was it him that killed those men?”
“Would those be the same men that were trying to kill Rhys?” Jack asks mockingly. Gwen’s aim falters for a moment.
“This is what you try so hard to protect?” Ianto asks patronisingly.
“They’re usually a little smarter,” Jack says. “But in their defence, it’s been a long time since they last saw you.”
“Really,” Ianto says, giving Jack a knowing look.
“Yes,” Jack insists. Ianto laughs, but does not give Jack away.
“Check their mouths, Gwen,” Jack says, and there is a tinge of derision in his voice.
“Their mouths?” she repeats, taking her eyes off Ianto.
“Their mouths,” Jack repeats. “Put the gun down and check their mouths.”
She reluctantly does so. Jack reflects that she is really being quite contrary. The stifled shriek when she finds the bluebells is revenge enough. For now.
“Jack?” she whispers in horror, petals falling from her fingers.
“Oh god,” Toshiko says, looking sick.
Jack looks at Rhys, who simply looks confused.
“Ianto’s a faerie,” Jack explains for Rhys’ benefit. “And before you say anything, I mean in the creature-from-myth sense, not the insulting-slang-for-a-homosexual sense.”
Ianto wriggles his fingers in Rhys’ direction. The expression on Rhys’ face morphs into one that says quite clearly that he is surrounded by crazy people.
“We need to figure out how to get this guy back to the Hub,” Jack muses, looking up at the massive creature sleeping beside them. “I don’t suppose you could help,” he adds, glancing over at Ianto.
“I could pick it up,” Ianto says, rolling his eyes. “But I think people would notice a giant space whale floating atop a hurricane, don’t you?”
“Considering the number of things people are willing to write off as figments of their imagination,” Jack mutters, but reluctantly concedes the point.
It is still Ianto, in the end, who finds their solution. Somehow, he manages to communicate with the creature which is, as it turns out, intelligent. Its bulk is a means of self-preservation, Ianto explains to Jack. It grows extra meat to protect its true inner body from predators. While it does hurt having that meat forcibly removed, the creature can regenerate infinitely. As long as it is willing to tolerate the pain, it can last until help arrives.
And it now knows that Jack is willing to help. It stops its defences producing more meat. As they wait and watch, the vast majority of the creature shrivels away, eventually leaving behind something that is only about half again Jack’s size. Large, but infinitely more easy to transport than what it had once been.
It is a little more difficult dealing with Rhys. Jack gives Gwen the amnesia pill and orders her to slip it to him. She does not know it, but this is a test, and her final chance.
She fails.
He Retcons them both.
“It would be easier,” he tells Ianto. “If I just worked alone. What do you think?”
Ianto trails a hand down Jack’s chest. “Mm. Not without me.”
“Of course not,” Jack says. “But I could create new lives for Tosh and Owen. Give them a start elsewhere. And stop wondering when they’ll turn on me too.” He does not quite believe what he is saying. He is frustrated now, frustrated and tired and angry that he has lost a team member to her own selfishness.
“You can’t trust them,” Ianto says solemnly. He reaches up and presses a thumb against Jack’s neck. Against his pulse-point. Then harder, thumb sliding upwards, choking him. Jack thinks of a lover he had once had, who had enjoyed this. The act itself had done nothing for Jack, but the trust - the trust implied in allowing it, that was different.
Jack is not sure if he dies or simply passes out. When he wakes up, Ianto is lying propped up on one arm, watching him.
“Do you want me to leave?” Ianto asks. “If you say yes, right now, I’ll leave. I won’t ever bother you or yours again. No consequences. My word on it.”
That brings Jack up short. Faerie bond, faerie promise. Ianto will not break this vow. Jack could be rid of him forever, and never pay the price. He and everyone dear to him would be safe. He will never see Ianto again.
“Do you want me to leave?” Ianto repeats, a hand splayed across the left side of Jack’s chest. Feeling his heart beating. Thumpthump. Thumpthump.
“No,” Jack says softly.
He thinks of the new lives he could give Toshiko and Owen. Something befitting their intelligence. He would need convincing stories to explain their lost years, especially in Toshiko’s case. UNIT will be watching. He is not still convinced that he should pursue this course of action. He is not certain that he can manage all the work on his own. He is not certain he wants to be rid of the two he has left.
Jack tries to think of what it will be like without them. He will have Ianto, it is true, but at the same time, something inside him rebels at the thought of losing Toshiko and Owen. Ianto, he knows, will not begrudge him his team. It is entirely his decision.
He remembers Owen asking him what he would do with Suzie. He remembers asking Owen for his opinion, and Owen’s response.
He is, after all, the leader.
Inexplicably, they lose two days of their memories. Toshiko is frustrated, searching desperately through the security systems in search of some fragment of information. Owen is unsettled and taking it out on Jack. He has been alternately deferential and combative since Gwen’s departure from the team. Combative is understandable, but deferential? Jack wonders if he suspects the fate Jack is contemplating for him.
Toshiko finds nothing. Afterwards, Ianto tells him about the creature he had destroyed. Trapped in time, amber-flied, lanced with wind and wrapped in bluebells.
Jack wishes he could remember seeing it. He kisses desire against Ianto’s neck. Ianto accepts the appreciative attention as his due.
Toshiko is mildly uneasy around Martha, despite knowing that Martha is new to UNIT and that Jack trusts her. Eventually, however, she warms up to the other girl as they try to figure out why there is so much alien life hidden behind the Pharm’s doors.
Jack stands by his office doors, watching the other three. Owen is flirting with Martha in front of Toshiko again.
“Think she’ll remember you?” Jack asks. Out of sight of the others, Ianto leans against the wall, inspecting his cufflinks.
“I’m hard to forget,” Ianto says.
Jack smiles. “You are, at that.”
Ianto smirks and straightens, picking up a sensor from Jack’s desk. The needle spins wildly the moment he comes into contact with it. Jack watches as it pinwheels in desperation, seeking clarity. For a moment, he sympathises with it.
Ianto arches an eyebrow and drops the sensor back on the desk. “Are you going to go to the Pharm?” he asks.
“Probably have to,” Jack says, looking back at his team. Martha is laughing over something on Toshiko’s screen while Owen appears to be complaining half-heartedly. He shifts slightly and manages to catch a glimpse. It looks like Owen’s jellied eels commercial.
“They’ll recognise you,” Ianto says.
“They’ve seen all of us at some point or other,” Jack says. “Except Toshiko, and she’s of more use manning the Hub.”
“I could go,” Ianto says.
Jack turns to face Ianto. “You sure?” he asks. “We don’t know what’s in there. If they know what you are, if they trap you in iron -”
“I’m not that weak,” Ianto says, smiling. “I’ll at least be able to get out and back home.”
Jack bites his lower lip, thinking it over. There is no reason he can think of to veto the idea. No reason other than that he wants Ianto safe. It is a laughable thought to have. As if anything could hurt a faerie.
“I can come back here immediately,” Ianto says persuasively. “They cannot hold light and wind. They cannot hold me.”
“Why are you asking me?” Jack asks suddenly. Permission? Is he honestly seeking Jack’s permission?
Ianto stills momentarily, then looks away. “Doesn’t matter,” he says. Jack’s innards do a strange little squirm at the light blush staining Ianto’s cheeks.
“We’d need a good pretext for you to go in,” Jack says. “Do they want, I don’t know, interns or something? Test subjects?”
Ianto smiles.
They do need test subjects. Ianto assures Jack that he can fake a blood sample contaminated with a disease of their choice. Owen, after recovering from his shock about sending Ianto in, suggests hepatitis. It will give Ianto a better chance of being selected as a test subject.
“Any ideas on how we can stay in contact?” Jack asks.
“Camera contacts?” Toshiko says.
“What now?” Martha asks.
“Sort of a spy camera in contact lenses,” Jack says. “Triggered by body heat. And we can write on the computer for you.”
“Wow,” Martha says. “And the signals can’t be intercepted?”
“Nope,” Jack says. “It’s a good idea.”
“Except I don’t have body heat,” Ianto points out. Everyone pauses.
“You’re warm to the touch,” Jack says.
“Sensory trick,” Ianto says. “It’s not actually heat.” Jack wants to ask what it actually is, but decides against doing so. “I could try generating it,” Ianto continues doubtfully.
“Give it a shot,” Jack says, shrugging. “If it works, it means you have an on-off button the rest of us don’t.”
“And if it doesn’t?” Owen asks as Toshiko goes over to Gwen’s old table. They had been trying to modify the lenses a few weeks ago and no one had bothered putting them back in the archives. Jack absently ponders the pros and cons of hiring an archivist.
“Think about it then,” Jack says. His contingency plan is to go in blind. He trusts that Ianto will be able to keep himself safe.
The contact lenses work. Toshiko sorts out Ianto’s cover story despite still looking ill at ease around him. Martha pulls Jack away from the others the first chance she gets.
“That’s the guy from last time, right?” she asks. “When you left the Doctor?”
“Yeah,” Jack says.
“Is he really a faerie?” Martha asks. “I know you said he was, but…”
“He is,” Jack says. “And before you say it, I’m positive he’s not alien. His kind is from Earth. They’re just not something we can understand.”
“He seems… human,” Martha says tentatively.
“Depends on your definition,” Jack says. “Anyway, this isn’t his real body. It’s just something he’s adopted so he can hang around without suspicion.”
“Interesting,” Martha says.
“It is,” Jack admits, glancing over at Ianto. Ianto is chatting to Owen, who looks reluctantly fascinated by whatever it is Ianto is saying.
“You like him, don’t you?” Martha asks.
“He’s brilliant,” Jack says, flashing a wide grin. “Say, Martha. Would you ever come work for Torchwood instead?”
“Don’t know,” Martha says. “If you need me, you know I’d come. But right now, I’m happy where I am.”
“Thought you’d say that,” Jack says. “Second question. Would Tish want to come work here?”
Martha gives him a sharp look. “She’s interested in what I do,” she finally says. “And I think we both know she can bear up well under pressure. But she doesn’t want to be in UNIT. Won’t tell me why.”
“Saxon used them,” Jack reveals. “A lot of the guards on the Valiant were from UNIT. Being blackmailed, whatever. The whole place was run like an army camp. For everyone but Saxon, anyway.”
Martha bites her lips. “I didn’t know,” she says.
“’Course not,” Jack says. “And I don’t think Tish would care that you’re with UNIT now. A lot of those men were essentially good people whose families were in danger.”
“But she wouldn’t want to put herself back there,” Martha finishes softly. “Makes more sense now.” She smiles a very little at Jack. “Torchwood might be good for her.”
“Not yet, of course,” Jack says. “She’s barely out of school, and she deserves more time to figure out what she wants to do with herself. But tell her that if she wants it, there’s a job here for her. Maybe just archival work until she’s trained up for fieldwork… if she wants it.”
“I’ll tell her,” Martha says. “And if she decides she wants to join up, you make sure you look after her, Jack Harkness.”
“Of course,” Jack promises. “Now, then. Back to work.”
It is only much later that it occurs to him he has been trying to build up his team instead of getting rid of the remnants. So much for Retconning Toshiko and Owen.
So many theories combine space and time together. A fabric that weaves the two so completely that thinking of them as one or the other is impossible. Or perhaps it is more accurate to say that so many theories depend on that one theory being true. Jack knows that in the 24th Century, this one theory is both proved and disproved. He does not expect to see this in action here and now, in the 21st Century.
“What’s going on?” Toshiko asks, startled.
“Try setting up a relay,” Jack says. “Actually, wait. Move, let me try something.”
He manages to hook up two systems. Then he adds a third, just in case. It takes a moment to separate the signals, and then he gets a clear picture from the two Iantos currently wandering the Pharm.
“What just happened?” Owen asks.
“Kensington’s Third Law of Temporal Dynamics,” Jack says absently.
“Say what?” Martha says.
“Never mind,” Jack says. “He’s basically in two places at once. So we’ve got two sets of images being relayed back. That’s why the system got confused.”
“Jack,” Toshiko says. “What’s all that?”
Jack turns his attention back to the screen. Ianto is standing perfectly still, not blinking even once as he takes in the alien creatures in their tanks. Takes in the cowering fear and agony written on their bodies.
Ianto turns and Jack sees Aaron Copley standing there, holding a gun on Ianto. He is backed up by several security teams. Jack lunges for the computer, types hurriedly.
get back here
A blink, and the second screen goes black. The camera now shows the Hub, the room they are in, and Jack as he runs to Ianto. “Is that what I think it was?” he asks.
“I will kill them,” Ianto says, and his voice is a chorus of voices. His eyes are bluebell blue all through. No whites.
“They were, weren’t they?” Jack asks grimly.
“Were what?” Martha asks. “Jack, you’re not making any sense.”
“Those aliens,” Jack says. “That’s how they’re getting Reset, and probably a bunch of other drugs. They’re making them off the aliens. They’re keeping those aliens in there, torturing them in the name of science.” He turns back to Ianto as realisation begins to dawn on his team’s faces. “Ianto? Can they be saved?”
“So far gone,” Ianto says sorrowfully. “I could take them back. But they will always wear the marks.”
“Do what you can for them,” Jack says. “Don’t get hurt. And leave the men alone for now.”
“I want to kill them,” Ianto sulks. “Take them and give them to my gwyllgi, taste their last breaths.”
“Let us deal with them,” Jack says, taking Ianto’s arms. “Please.”
It takes what seems like forever, but Ianto eventually nods and vanishes. Bluebells float down around Jack. They disappear the moment they touch his skin.
At Jack’s urging, Martha lets Torchwood take care of the cleanup and heads back to London, trusting that Jack will know what to do. Ianto takes the aliens somewhere. Jack does not ask where, knowing that if it had been left to him, he would have had no choice but to euthanise them.
Some of the people working at the Pharm genuinely had no idea of the monstrosities they were participating in. Those people were given just enough amnesia pills to wipe out their memories of their jobs there.
Those who knew what they were doing, however, were given enough to wipe them back to pre-pubescence. Jack thinks that this is a fitting punishment. Ianto is reluctantly mollified when he visits them in the hospital and sees them being taught multiplication tables.
“Two and two is four,” he tells Jack. “But two with two is one.”
Jack attempts to puzzle that out, then gives it up as a bad job. Ianto laughs.
“Something easier?” he says. “Voiceless cries, wingless flutters, toothless bites, mouthless mutters.”
“What’s that?” Toshiko asks, setting down her bag.
“The wind,” Jack replies. “Also, weren’t you supposed to take today off?”
“Riddles?” Toshiko asks, pointedly ignoring Jack’s question.
“In spring I look gay, decked in comely array,” Ianto says. “In summer more clothing I wear.”
“Pity,” Jack interrupts.
“When colder it grows, I fling off my clothes,” Ianto continues, throwing a paper ball at Jack. “And in winter quite naked appear.” He points a warning finger at Jack. “Don’t say it.”
Jack pouts as Toshiko taps her chin thoughtfully. “What would - oh! A tree.”
“Wonderfully done,” Ianto says.
“What kind of running means walking?” Owen grouses, stomping over to his workstation.
“Does this have anything to do with why you’re here two hours later than you’re supposed to be?” Jack asks.
“Running out of petrol,” Owen says. Toshiko hides a laugh. Jack is not nearly as restrained.
It appears, Jack thinks, that Toshiko and Owen have begun to warm up to Ianto. Whether this is because they have forgotten what he is capable of or because they think he means them no harm is debatable. He certainly has been putting effort into charming them. Perhaps he knows that Jack has decided against Retconning them. In that case, it would certainly be easier on all involved parties if he got along with them.
And knowing that, Jack is - content.
“Call from the hospital,” Toshiko says. “Whole bunch of patients all found in apparent comas. Peculiar symptoms - they reckon it’s something for us.”
“When did this start?” Jack asks.
“The wind turned black yesterday,” Ianto says.
“Started yesterday,” Toshiko says, glancing at Ianto.
“Something we should know?” Jack asks.
“What are the symptoms?” Ianto asks Toshiko.
She glances down at her notes. “Apparently, they’ve all been drained of moisture. And they’ve got heartbeats, but they’re not breathing.”
“Alltud,” Ianto muses.
“Ash-what?” Jack asks.
“They are the outcasts,” Ianto says, frowning. “They should not have been freed.”
Jack’s heart does a peculiar skip. “Faeries?” he asks.
“Of a forgotten clan,” Ianto says. “In human terms, you would say that they were exiled from our realm for their crimes.”
“What did they do?” Toshiko asks.
Ianto smiles slightly. “Don’t ask,” he says. “They were of all elements, but had only one water and one air between them.” He looks at Jack. “Permit me to handle this. It is our law.”
Jack spreads his hands. “Feel free,” he says. “Will you be able to save the victims?”
Ianto considers that. “If their breaths are found,” he says. “I will do my best.”
And the strange part, Jack reflects, is that Ianto genuinely means that.
Ianto is radiating heat underneath him. For someone who supposedly must choose to generate his body heat, he feels very human.
Of course, Jack thinks, it is not necessarily a compliment to call someone human.
Looking or being human is no guarantee of humanity, that abstract, puzzling term. Humanity. He once looked the word up on a whim. According to his dictionary, it means “human nature or qualities; kindness; the human race.” This is what he finds most peculiar - that kindness is the reflective quality of humankind. In his more morose moments, he thinks that inconstancy might be a more apt meaning for the word.
And yet, there is something about humans. Something that lets them hold on where no other species in the universe can. Not their bodies, not even their minds, but some innate, desperate need for survival. Inconstancy. And kindness. Evening primroses and bluebells. It is no coincidence that the last surviving race, just before the universe blinks out, was and will be humans.
Toshiko once asked him why so many aliens were interested in Earth. Not Earth, he had told her. Humans. But what is it about humans? Even him. Not mortal, but human, as Ianto calls him. Killed and always coming back, tenacious, desperately clinging to the small shreds of hope left to him. Jack smiles at the thought that he epitomises humanity, in all its forms and all its meanings.
Ianto tugs on his shoulders. “What’s got you so pensive?” he asks.
Jack leans down to kiss Ianto gently. “Nothing, really,” he says. When it comes down to it, there is little use in thinking of such things. What will happen, will. Jack’s lips graze Ianto’s skin as he shifts to lie down comfortably next to Ianto.
“Liar,” Ianto says without heat.
Jack smiles. “Sometimes,” he says, and Ianto laughs. Jack thinks that maybe he is getting the hang of faerie double-speak. Another few years and he might actually understand half the words that come out of Ianto’s mouth.
Of course, for all he knows, Ianto might be gone in a few years. Might lose interest or be dead. And that is a peculiar thought. Ianto had said once that he lived in time and was made of light and wind. How long does such a creature live?
“Hey, Ianto?”
Ianto makes an interrogative sound.
“How long does a creature of time live?” Jack asks.
Ianto smiles a secretive smile. He does not answer.
Jack reflects on the silence for a while. Then, a smile stretching his own lips, he wraps Ianto in his arms and lets himself drift into sleep.
He dreams of bluebells and laughter.
~fin
Constructive criticism is always welcome!