Burning Bright - Part One
Okay, a little while ago I posted a Five Ways fic on one of the boards. Can't remember where but I'm pretty certain I did post it as I got some very nice and generous comments and I hope I'm not so far gone as to hallucinate that kind of thing. Anway, it was 'Five Ways that Jack Didn't Come Back (And One Where He Did' and several people mentioned that they would like some of those ways expanded. Certain People are mean.
This is the first one to be given that treatment.
Title: Burning Bright
Characters: Ianto, Jack, Ten, some mention of the others.
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not mine, they belong to the BBC and RTD
Spoilers: General, for series 1
Summary: Jack's back but Ianto's not pleased to see him.
The door to the TARDIS opened and Jack stepped out into the main Hub. He breathed in the unique scent of the place and felt a grin spread over his face. It was ridiculous to think that someone as used to travelling in time and space as he was would think of this battered and chaotic place as home, but it did have that kind of resonance to it. He felt the Doctor come out to stand beside him and look around curiously.
“So this is Torchwood Three,” the Doctor observed. “It looks a little different from what I’d envisaged.”
Jack nodded thoughtfully, having realised the same thing. There was nothing really major and yet things were looking a little different. Little things in themselves, but together they added up to a different picture to the one he had carried inside his head.
“How long did you say I’d been away for, Doc?”
“One year, five months and two weeks, give or take a day or two.”
The voice coming from behind them was unmistakable. So too was the sound of a gun cocking, which wiped the smile off Jack’s face as he turned to see Ianto aiming a gun at them. The expression on the Welshman’s face was at its most unreadable.
“Ianto? What the hell are you doing?” Jack demanded in exasperation.
“You will take off your greatcoat slowly and carefully, Captain. You will then use your thumb and finger to take out your gun and drop it on the floor,” Ianto said calmly.
“And if I don’t, you’ll do what? Shoot me? Like that’s going to do you any good.”
“No, I will shoot the Doctor,” Ianto responded in an even voice. “In the head, to be precise. That will either kill him or trigger another regeneration. Either way it will mean the end of this particular Doctor. The decision is yours, Captain.”
“Well this is slightly different from the welcome you promised me, Jack,” the Doctor said in bemusement, as he lifted his hands up and tried not to look worried.
“I didn’t expect Ianto to have gone completely off his rocker!” Jack snapped back. He tried to find some hint of amusement or mischief in Ianto’s eyes but there was nothing but a solid wall that gave him no hint as to what the other man was thinking. Needing to buy time, he did as he was ordered, lifting his own hands up in an exaggerated sign of surrender once he was done. “Now what?”
“Doctor, you will take out your sonic screwdriver and your key to the TARDIS and place them on the desk beside you. Please do not try and do anything clever as I would prefer not to have to clean up the resultant mess.”
“Oh, that’s a mental picture I could have done without,” the Doctor said with a wince. He obeyed without further argument.
“Thank you. Captain Harkness, you will now make for the containment cells. Doctor, you will follow after. Captain, please be aware that any attempt to resist arrest will result in the Doctor being shot.”
“I get the picture,” Jack said through gritted teeth.
He’d imagined quite a few different scenarios in connection with his homecoming, but this one hadn’t made it onto the shortlist. As he walked into one of the cells and watched the door closing after him, he wondered if Ianto had been taken over by some kind of alien. Either that or the man had gone insane. The Doctor was ushered into the cell next door to his and the door closed behind him. Only then did Ianto relax and lower the gun. When he turned away with the obvious intention of leaving, Jack was galvanised into speech.
“Hang on; you can’t just leave us here! What the hell is going on? This isn’t exactly how I envisaged my return.”
Ianto paused to look at him and for the first time there was signs of emotion as a weary amusement touched Ianto’s eyes. “What kind of welcome did you envisage, Captain? You left us without a word. After a while we found out that you went willingly. Technically, you deserted your post and therefore abdicated your position as head of Torchwood Three. You are accompanying the alien designated as Torchwood’s number one enemy. You entered the base at a time when no-one would be here, for unknown reasons-“
“I was coming back!”
Ianto gazed at him calmly. “What makes you think we want you back?” he asked, then turned and left while Jack was still recovering from his shock at the words.
OOOO
Ianto didn’t relax until he had returned to the main Hub and switched the monitor to the direct feed from the containment cells. The Doctor had gone to lean against the far wall while Jack was pacing around his own cell like some caged lion. For a moment Ianto permitted himself the indulgence of reaching out a finger to touch the image of Jack and then he pulled himself together again.
This was a problem he hadn’t really anticipated having to deal with. Once he had figured out that Jack had gone with the Doctor, he had mentally drawn a line under the possibility of his returning. In a way it had been a relief, since he had had enough on his hands trying to keep Torchwood Three from falling apart at the seams. Two months after Jack had deserted them, the Burning had started.
It had begun in Africa, which had been the worst bit of luck, since everyone had assumed that it was 'just' another African disease. The developed world had thrown up its hands over tales of entire villages and towns dying within days, the inhabitants dropping in their tracks and burning up with fever. It was regrettable, of course, but it wasn't anything they could be held responsible for and there were so many other, more important, things to worry about.
Only a few thousand people died in the first month. The only people to be alarmed about it were the organisations who had sent people in to help and then listened in vain for them to call for supplies or additional help. A few far-sighted people felt a prickle of unease, but nothing was done.
Then the world caught fire.
From thousands, the mortality rate escalated to tens of thousands, and then to millions, in a space of another month. No corner of the Earth escaped the Burning's kiss. The most ferocious attempts to close borders proved fruitless. Governments collapsed, societies spasmed; religion and science were embraced or rejected with equal fervour.
The death toll stood at two billion by the time it was confirmed that the Burning was extra-terrestrial. Tosh had worked it out from the spread pattern. It had been her last gift to her species before she had died in a kind of feverish Limbo in Ianto's arms, her brilliant mind burned to ash. After that it had been very personal for Owen and he had thrown himself into unlocking the Burning's secrets. He and Ianto had never got on so well as in those last months. Ianto had finally come to understand how Owen could care so deeply and be such a prat at the same time, while Owen had finally realised that Ianto was far more than a tea-boy when he had learned enough about genetics, xenology and biochemistry to be of practical use to Owen in a matter of weeks. Sometimes having total recall had its uses.
By this time the world's population had gone from 6 billion to 4. After six months of mindless panic, military law or violent anarchy, Humanity had largely realised that it was doing the Burning's job for it and something perilously close to sanity had broken out. It had been helped by the discovery that some people seemed to be immune to the Burning. Entire communities would succumb but every now and then someone would remain untouched. Then they realised that it was entire families. And after a while someone had realised that the survivors belonged to certain racial groups. Owen had been incredulous when he'd realised that the Welsh were amongst the survivors.
"Great. So the Earth's going to be inherited by a bunch of leek-munching losers? This proves that God has got an evil sense of humour."
Ianto and Gwen had ganged up on him then, and there had been a mock fight that had left them laughing for the first time since Tosh had died. A month after that, Owen cracked the DNA code of the Burning. Five weeks after that, when he had been on the verge of a possible cure, he had been struck down.
Gwen had fled the Hub, unable to cope. It was Ianto who did his best to make Owen's passing as painless as possible. The doctor had been extremely vocal, while he was still lucid, over the Burning's timing, but towards the end he had clung to Ianto and apologised for his failure, his voice thready and anguished. Ianto had silently forgiven him for every crass remark and joke in poor taste, kissed him on the forehead and told him he was proud of him. Owen had relaxed, smiled vaguely at him and slipped into the coma that ended in his death.
Tired to the bone, Ianto had passed on Owen's findings to UNIT, Cardiff and Edinburgh. He'd transferred Owen down to the morgue, putting him next to Tosh, filled out all the necessary forms, laughed at himself for being a pedantic fool and then went back to combing the Archives for some clue that might help.
Gwen returned only to tell him that she wanted to leave Torchwood. Ianto didn't bother arguing or retconning her, as it was useful to have someone on the outside who remembered that Weevils and the like were dangerous. He stayed. In part it was because the Rift still coughed up flotsam and jetsam and someone had to deal with it. There was also the fact that, what seemed like a lifetime ago, Jack had made Ianto promise that if anything happened to Jack, Ianto would keep an eye on things. Ianto was pretty certain that Jack had been joking at the time, but Ianto had been serious.
Christmas came and the death toll was at 4 billion. Ianto put up a tree, partly out of habit but mainly out of a bloody-minded refusal to give in to despair. A little to his surprise, he found he wasn't the only one to feel like that. Power conservation meant that bright lights were a luxury, but that meant that people rediscovered candles. Traders were now local rather than spread across the globe but little luxuries still made their appearance and food and celebrations became the way friendly rivalries were played out. Ianto attended an outdoor Christmas concert and market at Roald Dahl Plass, ate mince pies and drank hot spiced cider and was mildly surprised to feel the black cloud of depression leave him and a new determination take its place.
In mid-January, Edinburgh announced it had a possible cure. Laboratory tests had been successful but since the Burning only affected humans, they needed humans to test it on. There were still people in England suitable as volunteers but when the cure was attempted, the Burning promptly mutated and they were back to square one. The disappointment was a crushing one, especially since the new version of the Burning tore across the planet and claimed another half a billion in a matter of weeks.
And now Jack was back, with the Doctor in tow. Ianto put his head in his hands and tried to decide if he was going to laugh or cry. The flamboyant Captain Jack Harkness, sweeping in to save the day. Except you needed a hell of a lot more than a fancy coat and a cocky attitude to face off a planetary plague. And the Doctor? Ianto shuddered over the idea of releasing an alien who travelled in time and space to potentially carry the Burning elsewhere. He might not be able to save his own planet, but Ianto would be damned if he'd sign the death warrant for another. For better or for worse, he had to hold them here.
He found his gaze drifting towards the TARDIS. Despite everything that had happened, the itch of curiosity started up. By the end of the second hour, it was unbearable and he went over to pick up the TARDIS key the Doctor had been forced to part with. He hovered outside the door for several minutes, his conscience carrying on a brisk 'discussion' with his curiosity, but in the end his curiosity won out and he slid the key in and turned it.
He half-expected to set off some kind of defence-system but nothing happened and he found himself in a huge control room. The alien architecture took his breath away. On the inside, the TARDIS seemed organic, with the Time Lord technology tacked on as an afterthought - and a rather haphazard afterthought at that. Ianto couldn't help but disapprove of the mess. There was a door leading out of the control room, but although Ianto peered through it and saw a corridor going off with other doors set into it, his conscience put up too much of a fight over trespassing further and he regretfully withdrew again. He couldn't resist stroking the strange alien wall before he left, however, and was startled - and a little charmed - by the warm pulse he got in return.
OOOO
Leaning against the wall and watching Jack continue to pace, the Doctor was distracted by the resonance he got from the TARDIS. "That's interesting," he said.
"What is?" Jack growled.
"Your Ianto is in the TARDIS."
"He isn't my Ianto!" Jack snarled. "And I hope the TARDIS fries him!"
"That might be a little awkward, seeing as how we're locked in the bowels of Torchwood, with no way of getting free if Ianto does get zapped," the Doctor pointed out. He snorted in amusement as Jack immediately looked chagrined. "And she isn't going to fry him. I think she likes him."
"Oh, that's just great!" Jack exploded, throwing up his hands. "We're locked in the dungeons and your damn ship is making nice-nice with the bastard who put us here!"
The Doctor was only listening with half an ear. "She says he's tired and sad. He's very curious about her, but the sadness is too strong and he's leaving. She doesn't want him to." The Doctor blinked in surprise. "She's feeling very protective. I wonder why?"
"Senility," Jack growled. "The two of you are prone to it."
The Doctor laughed. "You hate being at a loss, don't you? Chill. Meditate on the mould on the wall, or something." He laughed again when Jack told what he could meditate on and where.
A few hours passed before the door to the containment cells opened and Ianto came in with a tray he slid under Jack's cell door. "I'm not sure when you last ate, but I've brought you something."
"Do you honestly expect me to eat anything you give me?" Jack's voice dripped venom.
Ianto shrugged. "Refusing to eat is your prerogative, Captain, but there is soup and coffee in the cups and the sandwich is ham salad." He moved up to stand outside the Doctor's cell. "Several memos from your time in UNIT mention your liking for tea, which I can provide, but I have no knowledge of your dietary requirements. What can I get you?"
"My freedom?" the Doctor asked archly.
Ianto shook his head, although there was a small flicker of a smile. "That is not negotiable. What food can you eat?"
"Methusalan pond weed," the Doctor said promptly. "Time Lords live on it."
"Methusalan pond weed?" Ianto frowned, inclined to dismiss it out of hand but aware that the Doctor was an alien. "Would watercress do as a substitute?"
"Oh no, I- Watercress? Oh, I could murder a nice watercress sandwich! I don't suppose you have cake as well?" he finished hopefully.
The smile reappeared for a moment and briefly touched Ianto's eyes. "The market's still open so cake's a possibility. Fruit or plain?"
"I don't believe this!" Jack had been listening to the conversation with growing incredulity and now exploded. "I don't know which one of you is crazier!"
"Jack, just because we happen to be on opposite sides, there's no need for Ianto and myself to ignore the civilised niceties," the Doctor said severely. "If you ask nicely, I'm sure Ianto will spare you a slice of cake." Leaving a spluttering Jack to recover, the Doctor swung his attention back to Ianto. "I'd love a slice of fruit cake, if that's not too inconvenient. Did you like my ship?" He watched in amused delight as Ianto blushed and looked guilty. "She's very impressive, isn't she?"
"I only looked at the control room," Ianto admitted after a pause, "and I touched nothing. Everything is where it should be."
"Well, not exactly, since I'm here instead of inside her, but you mean well. Now, how about that watercress sandwich and cake, eh?" For the first time since he had arrived, the Doctor got the feeling that Ianto actually really looked at him. For the Doctor's part, he finally saw past the calm wall behind Ianto's eyes to the tired despair that was there. He moved forward to place his hand on the glass door of his cell. "Let me help," he said quietly.
The wall went back up and Ianto withdrew, both physically and emotionally. "I'll get you your food."
When he came back with the food, he refused to be drawn into conversation again and left immediately. Accepting the temporary tactical setback, the Doctor settled down to eat, enjoying the in-flight entertainment that was Jack Harkness in a snit. He'd never known Jack to maintain such a head of steam for so long and said as much. "In fact," he said gleefully, "I think you're this mad because you expected Ianto to greet you with open arms." To his delight, Jack immediately revved up again.
"I expected a certain basic loyalty!" Jack spat, managing to pace even in the tiny confines of his cell. "I should have known better. Ianto Jones is the poster boy for disloyalty!"
"Oooh, that's harsh," the Doctor tutted. "Do you make a habit of shoving past indiscretions in his face or this a special occasion?"
"Hello? This is me, locked in a cell in my own base-"
"Technically, that's not correct," the Doctor said mildly. "You left-"
"I was hijacked!" Now it was Jack's turn to interrupt.
"You didn't exactly scream at me to bring you back, did you?" the Doctor pointed out.
"I was in a time machine!" Jack yelled. "I could have been with you for a hundred years and still got back ten minutes after I'd left. Or I could have, if I had someone halfway competent at the controls. Instead I had you!"
"Oh, that was cutting," the Doctor observed cheerfully, "and yet I find myself strangely unscathed. The trouble with you, Jack, is that you're spoiled."
"What?"
"Spoiled rotten. Completely, utterly and stonkingly overwhelmingly spoiled to the max," the Doctor continued with a blithe disregard for Jack's outrage. "The trouble is, you charm your way out of most things and very, very few people are proof against that charm. It's your greatest asset. It can also be your greatest weakness, because you're used to having it work for you. You expected Ianto to welcome you with open arms. You expected that charm to work. It hasn't. Ianto isn't dancing to your tune and that, my friend, is really getting up your nose."
Jack glared at him, opened his mouth to say something crushing, then closed it again. After a moment, his shoulders slumped. "I really thought he'd be pleased to see me," he said, almost plaintively. "What did I do wrong?"
OOOO
"You came back," Ianto whispered as he watched the CCTV footage. "You've come back and now you're going to die."
OOOO
"You had better not be asleep," Jack threatened.
The Doctor smirked and opened one eye. "I'm meditating."
"On what?" Jack asked sarcastically.
"On how long it's going to take you to calm down, stop wasting your time trying to break out and just ask Ianto to talk to you."
Jack glowered at him. "I locked him in these cells on two occasions and he got out both times. If he can do it, I can do it."
The Doctor shook his head in disbelief. "You're still not getting it, are you? In one breath you tell me that you locked him up and then you complain when he returns the favour! Am I the only one who's noticing the slightly weird dynamic to your relationship with one another?" When Jack said nothing, he eyed him curiously. "What, no snarly come-back?"
Jack shrugged and paused to rest his head against the cell door. "Just wish it wasn't so hot. I don't remember the cells being heated like this before."
The Doctor frowned, feeling a prickle of unease. "I don't notice it being all that warm." He moved closer and studied Jack closely. "You're sweating."
"Well, yeah, I just told you I was hot," Jack pointed out.
"I have a very bad feeling about this," the Doctor said uneasily. He looked around and raised his voice. "Ianto, if you're monitoring us, I think you'd better get down here!" The door opened almost immediately and Ianto walked in. "Blimey, that was quick!" the Doctor said, blinking.
Ianto ignored him and went directly to Jack's cell where he leaned his hands against the clear door. "Are you still immortal?" he demanded.
"Why should I tell you?" Jack shot back.
"When you first came back and you thought I might shoot you, you said that it wouldn't do me any good. Was that a bluff or are you still immortal?"
Jack snorted. "Why don't you shoot me and find out?"
"Yes, he is," the Doctor said.
"Doc!"
"Oh, shut up, Jack," the Doctor said, his attention on where Ianto had slumped against the door. "This is what this is all about, isn't it?" he asked gently. "There's some kind of illness around and Jack has it."
Jack gave him a sharp look and then switched his gaze back to Ianto. "Is that true, Ianto?"
Ianto pushed himself away from the glass and gave him a bitter look. "Why in God's name did you have to come back?" he demanded tiredly before he turned and left.
He was back in half an hour, but by that time Jack had no doubts about his being ill. His clothes were soaked in sweat and he was shivering almost constantly. It was also difficult to stay upright and he had subsided on to the low bed, leaning against the wall. Now it was the Doctor's turn to pace, muttering under his breath and he pounced on Ianto's return.
"I was wondering where you'd got to," he scolded. "Jack needs medical attention."
"I have what he needs," Ianto said quietly. He opened the cell door and went inside, going over to sit beside Jack. Taking out some wipes from the kit he was carrying, he wiped Jack's face and neck. Jack sighed with relief.
"Feels good," he murmured. He blinked and focused on Ianto with difficulty. "Shouldn't you be in some kind of protective clothing?"
"I'm immune," Ianto said calmly.
Jack managed a small breathless laugh. "Bet that got up Owen's nose. Where is he, anyway?"
A shadow passed over Ianto's face. "He can't come."
"Not immune, is he?" Jack asked vaguely.
"No," Ianto said quietly as he reached into the kit again and pulled out a filled syringe. "He wasn't."
The Doctor gave him a sharp look as he caught the past tense. "What's that?" he demanded, gesturing at the syringe. "The cure?"
Ianto glanced at him and the Doctor flinched at the anguish he saw in the blue eyes. "Of a sort," he whispered.
Jack seemed to realise that something was wrong as well, and he laid a hand on Ianto's arm. "'Yan?"
Ianto managed to look him in the eye after a struggle. "You are going to die, Captain. You are going to die a lingering and painful death. In about another day, you'll stop sweating and your internal temperature will soar. Brain damage will occur shortly afterwards. Medical intervention will only delay that and make it worse for you as side effects set in. After that you will slide into a coma and then you will die. This-" he hefted the syringe, "-is fast and painless. It will kill you in ten minutes."
Jack looked at him. "There's no cure?" Ianto shook his head and Jack stuck his arm out. "Do it," he said flatly.
"Jack-" the Doctor started to protest.
"My decision, Doc," Jack said as Ianto undid his sleeve and rolled it up. "Ianto always was the practical one, weren't you, Ianto?"
There was a slight edge to his voice but if Ianto noticed it, he made no sign. He injected Jack with the poison and put the syringe away. "You had better lie down, Captain."
"I should have grabbed it off you and injected you with it," Jack said in a conversational tone as he obeyed.
"Maybe next time, sir."
Jack gave a breathy hiccup of a laugh. "You are unbelievable. You betray me for a third time, lock me up, threaten to kill the Doctor, keep me away from the rest of the team, pump me full of poison and still call me sir."
"You are a habit that is very hard to break, sir," Ianto said with a faint tremor to his voice. "Just relax and let the poison work."
"Do the rest of the team even know I'm here?" Jack demanded after a moment.
"I've told Tosh and Owen," Ianto said. "Gwen is currently away from the Hub but I will tell her when she calls."
He continued to sit with Jack as the other man lost consciousness. The Doctor noticed that Ianto didn't touch Jack until after he had passed out and then he had very gently stroked the side of his face. He nodded silently to himself as his suspicions were confirmed. Ianto was not acting like a man set on betrayal, no matter what Jack thought. Minutes passed and Jack's breathing gradually slowed and finally stopped. Ianto tested for a pulse at the throat, then leaned forward to rest his forehead against Jack's chest. He gave one huge shattering sob and then was silent, his body shuddering.
"It's never easy, is it?" the Doctor said sympathetically. "Even though you know he's immortal, there's always that little niggle of doubt at the back of your mind every time you see him dead."
"He wants to die," Ianto replied as he lifted his head and picked up the kit. "He's always wanted to die. That was just one more thing I could never give him." He got up to leave. "He's always thirsty when he comes back from the dead. I'll go and get some water."
"Ianto, wait. Please talk to me," the Doctor pleaded. "I'm not the fool I sometimes appear to be. There's a plague loose, isn't there?" For a moment he thought Ianto was going to ignore him again, but then the Welshman hesitated and leaned against the doorway of the cell. "Tell me," the Doctor demanded gently.
Ianto sighed and gave in. "It's called the Burning and it came from space over a year ago. It's killed about 5 billion people. It's difficult to find out exact figures these days." He saw the expression on the Doctor's face and almost laughed. "Did you think it was something small and cosy you could solve in time for tea? This isn't an invasion, Doctor. It's extinction."
Jack suddenly twitched and drew in a gasping breath. Ianto blinked and gave the Doctor a bemused look, as if he hadn't intended to tell him anything and now couldn't believe that he had. "I need to get him some water," he said before leaving.
He came back as a slightly groggy Jack was pushing himself upright. Too wary to go back into the cell, he pushed a paper cup full of water through the slot under the door and waited patiently to refill it from the jug he had with him. Jack watched him over the rim of the cup as he drank.
"So there's a plague on the loose," he said casually.
After a moment Ianto inclined his head. "Yes, sir."
"All of a sudden, I find myself getting a pretty good idea as to why the others haven't been down to see me," Jack continued. "What happened to them?"
Ianto hesitated, then sighed. "Tosh died first, then Owen. Gwen decided to leave Torchwood and I saw no profit in forcing her to stay."
Jack nodded and looked sad for a moment. "I'll miss them." He shook off the emotion and went back to pressing Ianto, knowing that he only had a small space of time before Ianto re-erected the barrier that had unaccountably risen between them. "Who did you replace them with?"
"No-one," Ianto said shortly. He lifted his chin and looked defiant when Jack gave him a sharp look. "People were too busy surviving a global plague to care about alien incursions, Captain."
"You're on your own?" Jack asked sharply.
"Don't think that will make it any easier for you, Captain," Ianto said coldly. "I've become extremely skilled at my job."
"Never mind about that," Jack said impatiently. "Ianto, you're empathic, for God's sake! Being alone is the worst thing you can do to yourself-"
"I do whatever is necessary to do my job!" Ianto flared back, his self-control momentarily slipping. "You weren't here! You didn't have to bear witness to the world burning alive and know there wasn't a thing you could do to stop it!" He turned and left, slamming the door behind him with considerable force.
"That went well," the Doctor observed brightly. "I must say that your diplomatic skills left me in awe just then."
Jack glowered at him. "He's not usually that touchy."
"I may be going out on a limb here, but I'd hazard a guess that he hasn't usually spent a year watching the world self-combust while single handedly maintaining Torchwood Three," the Doctor said dryly. He smiled slightly as Jack bit his lip. "Admit it; you're relieved now that you know he has a reason for why he's been acting this way."
Jack glared at him for a moment before looking away. "It doesn't explain why we're locked up!" He paused as the Doctor's smile widened. "Oh, let me guess; you've worked it out."
"If he's as thorough as he seems to be, it's obvious," the Doctor admitted. "Containment. He can't afford to let us go if there's a chance we can spread the Burning."
"Does he think we'd just run away?" Jack said hotly.
"Jack, all he probably knows about me is what Torchwood says about me. Did you tell him anything about me while you were here?" Jack's face gave him his answer.
"But he could trust me not to run," Jack protested. "Couldn't he?"
"Well, that's more of a mystery," the Doctor admitted. "I mean you worked together and probably got to know one another quite well, so why he seems to find it so difficult to trust you... what did I say?" he said in bewilderment when Jack gave a harsh bark of laughter.
"Let's just say that I get your point, Doc, even though it's not the one you intended to make." He sighed and settled back on the bed. "I just wish he would drop his defences and talk to me."
The Doctor came across to lean against the wall. "You mentioned he's an empath?" he asked curiously.
Jack immediately looked guilty. "That isn't common knowledge. He's probably mad at me for letting that slip in your hearing. He's spent most of his life hiding his gift - especially from Torchwood."
"It's just unusual to have a functional, well-balanced empath in this time-period, that's all," the Doctor said thoughtfully. "He must be an exceptionally stable individual to begin with."
Jack smiled faintly, but there was a hint of sadness to it. "He can sometimes seem a little anal or pedantic, but it's because he's terrified to losing control. It's something that seems to freak him out."
"It would. An empath's worse nightmare is to be overwhelmed by another person's emotions. You can lose yourself in that person's needs and their desires become paramount, regardless of how self-destructive it is for you."
"That happened," Jack admitted with a wince as he remembered Lisa. At first he had been unable to understand how Ianto could have believed even for a second that he could succeed in saving Lisa. Once he'd learned that the young Welshman was a self-taught empath, however, he'd realised that the incident with Lisa had been inevitable. "When I found out I tried to help, but I was guessing most of the time and made mistakes."
"Don't we all," the Doctor sighed, the weight of centuries heavy in his eyes. "Did you ever fully link with him?"
Despite the situation, Jack found himself smiling broadly at the memories. "Oh, yeah." That earned him an exasperated look.
"Any time outside of sex?"
Jack blinked, mentally shifting gears. "Um, once or twice. Hey, quit giving me The Look, okay? You have no idea what it took to get Ianto to let go of that damn self-control of his."
"That 'damned self-control' was probably the only thing keeping Ianto sane," the Doctor shot back. "The fact that he did let his guard down with you tells me that he does trust you. He probably wonders why on a regular basis - Lord knows I do - but he does. Just give him time."
"Thanks - I think," Jack said somewhat dubiously.
They went back to waiting, never a thing that Jack enjoyed or did very well. He spent the time trying to think of ways of trying to persuade Ianto to trust him again. He was so caught up with his thoughts that he missed the steady rise of heat within himself until the sweat started to get in his eyes. He scrubbed at his moist forehead and gave the Doctor an outraged look.
"Shouldn't I be immune now?" he complained.
"It doesn't look like it," the Doctor said worriedly. "I wonder where Ianto is?"
It took ten minutes for Ianto to appear. When he did, he had changed out of his waistcoat and suit into black fatigues. Both Jack and the Doctor blinked at the variety of weapons he was sporting, but the Doctor became acutely conscious of the gun Ianto pointed at him as he opened the door to the Doctor's cell and motioned at him to come out.
"Whatever it was I said, I wholeheartedly retract it," he offered.
Ianto ignored the attempt at humour and shoved a kit into the Doctor's hands and all but pushed him into Jack's cell. He closed the door and then went outside and came back with a large bottle of water and some ration bars that he shoved through the slot.
"What-?" Jack started.
"There have been three incursions," Ianto said flatly. "One is near the hospital and another near a school. I can't afford to ignore either of those. It's your choice whether you kill Jack, Doctor, or let him suffer. I'll be back as soon as I can."
He'd turned away and left before either of them could muster a protest. Jack immediately lapsed into a scathing assessment of Ianto's state of mind.
"Three incursions, for God's sake! And he goes off on his own to deal with them!" He was shaking with what the Doctor realised was a combination of anger and terror. "I know he can handle Weevils, but what if something else comes through? What if it's something like a Cyberman?"
"Jack, calm down," the Doctor told him worriedly. "You're not helping yourself."
"What?" Jack gave him an incredulous look. "How in hell's name does that matter? I'm already dying - which reminds me." He dug out the poison-filled syringe and injected himself with it almost absently, still focused on tearing Ianto's character and level of sanity to shreds.
"There's something just a little bit terrifying about the casual way you did that," the Doctor said in a strained voice.
"I'll come back," Jack retorted, albeit a little muzzily as he fell back on the bed. "Ianto won't. I'm going to kill that thick-headed Welsh idiot for worrying me like this."
"The scary thing about that last bit is that you'd still say it even if you weren't feverish," the Doctor sighed.
A little unsettled despite himself, the Doctor distracted himself by going through his pockets to see if he was carrying anything useful. He had a nasty feeling that it was going to be extremely difficult to make Ianto see reason and let them out in the immediate future. It might be wiser to take advantage of the fact that Ianto was now away from the Hub and unable to observe them. He had accumulated quite a pile of stuff by the time Jack gasped his way back to life. Remembering what Ianto had said about Jack being thirsty, the Doctor was ready with some water for him. Jack gulped down the first two glasses before slowing down to sip at a third as the Doctor went back to investigating his final pocket.
Jack watched in amusement, then stiffened as he spotted one particular item half-buried under some string and a yo-yo. He lunged forward and grabbed the mobile phone, turning to give the Time Lord an incredulous look. "You had this all along and didn't tell me?"
The Doctor snorted. "In the first place, who are we going to call? In the second place, how do you think our ferocious young Welsh friend would have reacted to my announcing that I had it on me?"
Jack grinned reluctantly. "He'd have been down like a shot and had it off you," he admitted. "The thing is, I may have someone to call, if the network is still working." He keyed in the number and mentally crossed his fingers. To his delight the call was answered and he heard a familiar voice. "Gwen! Lovely to hear your voice again. Listen, I hate to impose but I need you to do me one small favour..."
OOOO
Continue on to the second part here
This is the first one to be given that treatment.
Title: Burning Bright
Characters: Ianto, Jack, Ten, some mention of the others.
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not mine, they belong to the BBC and RTD
Spoilers: General, for series 1
Summary: Jack's back but Ianto's not pleased to see him.
The door to the TARDIS opened and Jack stepped out into the main Hub. He breathed in the unique scent of the place and felt a grin spread over his face. It was ridiculous to think that someone as used to travelling in time and space as he was would think of this battered and chaotic place as home, but it did have that kind of resonance to it. He felt the Doctor come out to stand beside him and look around curiously.
“So this is Torchwood Three,” the Doctor observed. “It looks a little different from what I’d envisaged.”
Jack nodded thoughtfully, having realised the same thing. There was nothing really major and yet things were looking a little different. Little things in themselves, but together they added up to a different picture to the one he had carried inside his head.
“How long did you say I’d been away for, Doc?”
“One year, five months and two weeks, give or take a day or two.”
The voice coming from behind them was unmistakable. So too was the sound of a gun cocking, which wiped the smile off Jack’s face as he turned to see Ianto aiming a gun at them. The expression on the Welshman’s face was at its most unreadable.
“Ianto? What the hell are you doing?” Jack demanded in exasperation.
“You will take off your greatcoat slowly and carefully, Captain. You will then use your thumb and finger to take out your gun and drop it on the floor,” Ianto said calmly.
“And if I don’t, you’ll do what? Shoot me? Like that’s going to do you any good.”
“No, I will shoot the Doctor,” Ianto responded in an even voice. “In the head, to be precise. That will either kill him or trigger another regeneration. Either way it will mean the end of this particular Doctor. The decision is yours, Captain.”
“Well this is slightly different from the welcome you promised me, Jack,” the Doctor said in bemusement, as he lifted his hands up and tried not to look worried.
“I didn’t expect Ianto to have gone completely off his rocker!” Jack snapped back. He tried to find some hint of amusement or mischief in Ianto’s eyes but there was nothing but a solid wall that gave him no hint as to what the other man was thinking. Needing to buy time, he did as he was ordered, lifting his own hands up in an exaggerated sign of surrender once he was done. “Now what?”
“Doctor, you will take out your sonic screwdriver and your key to the TARDIS and place them on the desk beside you. Please do not try and do anything clever as I would prefer not to have to clean up the resultant mess.”
“Oh, that’s a mental picture I could have done without,” the Doctor said with a wince. He obeyed without further argument.
“Thank you. Captain Harkness, you will now make for the containment cells. Doctor, you will follow after. Captain, please be aware that any attempt to resist arrest will result in the Doctor being shot.”
“I get the picture,” Jack said through gritted teeth.
He’d imagined quite a few different scenarios in connection with his homecoming, but this one hadn’t made it onto the shortlist. As he walked into one of the cells and watched the door closing after him, he wondered if Ianto had been taken over by some kind of alien. Either that or the man had gone insane. The Doctor was ushered into the cell next door to his and the door closed behind him. Only then did Ianto relax and lower the gun. When he turned away with the obvious intention of leaving, Jack was galvanised into speech.
“Hang on; you can’t just leave us here! What the hell is going on? This isn’t exactly how I envisaged my return.”
Ianto paused to look at him and for the first time there was signs of emotion as a weary amusement touched Ianto’s eyes. “What kind of welcome did you envisage, Captain? You left us without a word. After a while we found out that you went willingly. Technically, you deserted your post and therefore abdicated your position as head of Torchwood Three. You are accompanying the alien designated as Torchwood’s number one enemy. You entered the base at a time when no-one would be here, for unknown reasons-“
“I was coming back!”
Ianto gazed at him calmly. “What makes you think we want you back?” he asked, then turned and left while Jack was still recovering from his shock at the words.
OOOO
Ianto didn’t relax until he had returned to the main Hub and switched the monitor to the direct feed from the containment cells. The Doctor had gone to lean against the far wall while Jack was pacing around his own cell like some caged lion. For a moment Ianto permitted himself the indulgence of reaching out a finger to touch the image of Jack and then he pulled himself together again.
This was a problem he hadn’t really anticipated having to deal with. Once he had figured out that Jack had gone with the Doctor, he had mentally drawn a line under the possibility of his returning. In a way it had been a relief, since he had had enough on his hands trying to keep Torchwood Three from falling apart at the seams. Two months after Jack had deserted them, the Burning had started.
It had begun in Africa, which had been the worst bit of luck, since everyone had assumed that it was 'just' another African disease. The developed world had thrown up its hands over tales of entire villages and towns dying within days, the inhabitants dropping in their tracks and burning up with fever. It was regrettable, of course, but it wasn't anything they could be held responsible for and there were so many other, more important, things to worry about.
Only a few thousand people died in the first month. The only people to be alarmed about it were the organisations who had sent people in to help and then listened in vain for them to call for supplies or additional help. A few far-sighted people felt a prickle of unease, but nothing was done.
Then the world caught fire.
From thousands, the mortality rate escalated to tens of thousands, and then to millions, in a space of another month. No corner of the Earth escaped the Burning's kiss. The most ferocious attempts to close borders proved fruitless. Governments collapsed, societies spasmed; religion and science were embraced or rejected with equal fervour.
The death toll stood at two billion by the time it was confirmed that the Burning was extra-terrestrial. Tosh had worked it out from the spread pattern. It had been her last gift to her species before she had died in a kind of feverish Limbo in Ianto's arms, her brilliant mind burned to ash. After that it had been very personal for Owen and he had thrown himself into unlocking the Burning's secrets. He and Ianto had never got on so well as in those last months. Ianto had finally come to understand how Owen could care so deeply and be such a prat at the same time, while Owen had finally realised that Ianto was far more than a tea-boy when he had learned enough about genetics, xenology and biochemistry to be of practical use to Owen in a matter of weeks. Sometimes having total recall had its uses.
By this time the world's population had gone from 6 billion to 4. After six months of mindless panic, military law or violent anarchy, Humanity had largely realised that it was doing the Burning's job for it and something perilously close to sanity had broken out. It had been helped by the discovery that some people seemed to be immune to the Burning. Entire communities would succumb but every now and then someone would remain untouched. Then they realised that it was entire families. And after a while someone had realised that the survivors belonged to certain racial groups. Owen had been incredulous when he'd realised that the Welsh were amongst the survivors.
"Great. So the Earth's going to be inherited by a bunch of leek-munching losers? This proves that God has got an evil sense of humour."
Ianto and Gwen had ganged up on him then, and there had been a mock fight that had left them laughing for the first time since Tosh had died. A month after that, Owen cracked the DNA code of the Burning. Five weeks after that, when he had been on the verge of a possible cure, he had been struck down.
Gwen had fled the Hub, unable to cope. It was Ianto who did his best to make Owen's passing as painless as possible. The doctor had been extremely vocal, while he was still lucid, over the Burning's timing, but towards the end he had clung to Ianto and apologised for his failure, his voice thready and anguished. Ianto had silently forgiven him for every crass remark and joke in poor taste, kissed him on the forehead and told him he was proud of him. Owen had relaxed, smiled vaguely at him and slipped into the coma that ended in his death.
Tired to the bone, Ianto had passed on Owen's findings to UNIT, Cardiff and Edinburgh. He'd transferred Owen down to the morgue, putting him next to Tosh, filled out all the necessary forms, laughed at himself for being a pedantic fool and then went back to combing the Archives for some clue that might help.
Gwen returned only to tell him that she wanted to leave Torchwood. Ianto didn't bother arguing or retconning her, as it was useful to have someone on the outside who remembered that Weevils and the like were dangerous. He stayed. In part it was because the Rift still coughed up flotsam and jetsam and someone had to deal with it. There was also the fact that, what seemed like a lifetime ago, Jack had made Ianto promise that if anything happened to Jack, Ianto would keep an eye on things. Ianto was pretty certain that Jack had been joking at the time, but Ianto had been serious.
Christmas came and the death toll was at 4 billion. Ianto put up a tree, partly out of habit but mainly out of a bloody-minded refusal to give in to despair. A little to his surprise, he found he wasn't the only one to feel like that. Power conservation meant that bright lights were a luxury, but that meant that people rediscovered candles. Traders were now local rather than spread across the globe but little luxuries still made their appearance and food and celebrations became the way friendly rivalries were played out. Ianto attended an outdoor Christmas concert and market at Roald Dahl Plass, ate mince pies and drank hot spiced cider and was mildly surprised to feel the black cloud of depression leave him and a new determination take its place.
In mid-January, Edinburgh announced it had a possible cure. Laboratory tests had been successful but since the Burning only affected humans, they needed humans to test it on. There were still people in England suitable as volunteers but when the cure was attempted, the Burning promptly mutated and they were back to square one. The disappointment was a crushing one, especially since the new version of the Burning tore across the planet and claimed another half a billion in a matter of weeks.
And now Jack was back, with the Doctor in tow. Ianto put his head in his hands and tried to decide if he was going to laugh or cry. The flamboyant Captain Jack Harkness, sweeping in to save the day. Except you needed a hell of a lot more than a fancy coat and a cocky attitude to face off a planetary plague. And the Doctor? Ianto shuddered over the idea of releasing an alien who travelled in time and space to potentially carry the Burning elsewhere. He might not be able to save his own planet, but Ianto would be damned if he'd sign the death warrant for another. For better or for worse, he had to hold them here.
He found his gaze drifting towards the TARDIS. Despite everything that had happened, the itch of curiosity started up. By the end of the second hour, it was unbearable and he went over to pick up the TARDIS key the Doctor had been forced to part with. He hovered outside the door for several minutes, his conscience carrying on a brisk 'discussion' with his curiosity, but in the end his curiosity won out and he slid the key in and turned it.
He half-expected to set off some kind of defence-system but nothing happened and he found himself in a huge control room. The alien architecture took his breath away. On the inside, the TARDIS seemed organic, with the Time Lord technology tacked on as an afterthought - and a rather haphazard afterthought at that. Ianto couldn't help but disapprove of the mess. There was a door leading out of the control room, but although Ianto peered through it and saw a corridor going off with other doors set into it, his conscience put up too much of a fight over trespassing further and he regretfully withdrew again. He couldn't resist stroking the strange alien wall before he left, however, and was startled - and a little charmed - by the warm pulse he got in return.
OOOO
Leaning against the wall and watching Jack continue to pace, the Doctor was distracted by the resonance he got from the TARDIS. "That's interesting," he said.
"What is?" Jack growled.
"Your Ianto is in the TARDIS."
"He isn't my Ianto!" Jack snarled. "And I hope the TARDIS fries him!"
"That might be a little awkward, seeing as how we're locked in the bowels of Torchwood, with no way of getting free if Ianto does get zapped," the Doctor pointed out. He snorted in amusement as Jack immediately looked chagrined. "And she isn't going to fry him. I think she likes him."
"Oh, that's just great!" Jack exploded, throwing up his hands. "We're locked in the dungeons and your damn ship is making nice-nice with the bastard who put us here!"
The Doctor was only listening with half an ear. "She says he's tired and sad. He's very curious about her, but the sadness is too strong and he's leaving. She doesn't want him to." The Doctor blinked in surprise. "She's feeling very protective. I wonder why?"
"Senility," Jack growled. "The two of you are prone to it."
The Doctor laughed. "You hate being at a loss, don't you? Chill. Meditate on the mould on the wall, or something." He laughed again when Jack told what he could meditate on and where.
A few hours passed before the door to the containment cells opened and Ianto came in with a tray he slid under Jack's cell door. "I'm not sure when you last ate, but I've brought you something."
"Do you honestly expect me to eat anything you give me?" Jack's voice dripped venom.
Ianto shrugged. "Refusing to eat is your prerogative, Captain, but there is soup and coffee in the cups and the sandwich is ham salad." He moved up to stand outside the Doctor's cell. "Several memos from your time in UNIT mention your liking for tea, which I can provide, but I have no knowledge of your dietary requirements. What can I get you?"
"My freedom?" the Doctor asked archly.
Ianto shook his head, although there was a small flicker of a smile. "That is not negotiable. What food can you eat?"
"Methusalan pond weed," the Doctor said promptly. "Time Lords live on it."
"Methusalan pond weed?" Ianto frowned, inclined to dismiss it out of hand but aware that the Doctor was an alien. "Would watercress do as a substitute?"
"Oh no, I- Watercress? Oh, I could murder a nice watercress sandwich! I don't suppose you have cake as well?" he finished hopefully.
The smile reappeared for a moment and briefly touched Ianto's eyes. "The market's still open so cake's a possibility. Fruit or plain?"
"I don't believe this!" Jack had been listening to the conversation with growing incredulity and now exploded. "I don't know which one of you is crazier!"
"Jack, just because we happen to be on opposite sides, there's no need for Ianto and myself to ignore the civilised niceties," the Doctor said severely. "If you ask nicely, I'm sure Ianto will spare you a slice of cake." Leaving a spluttering Jack to recover, the Doctor swung his attention back to Ianto. "I'd love a slice of fruit cake, if that's not too inconvenient. Did you like my ship?" He watched in amused delight as Ianto blushed and looked guilty. "She's very impressive, isn't she?"
"I only looked at the control room," Ianto admitted after a pause, "and I touched nothing. Everything is where it should be."
"Well, not exactly, since I'm here instead of inside her, but you mean well. Now, how about that watercress sandwich and cake, eh?" For the first time since he had arrived, the Doctor got the feeling that Ianto actually really looked at him. For the Doctor's part, he finally saw past the calm wall behind Ianto's eyes to the tired despair that was there. He moved forward to place his hand on the glass door of his cell. "Let me help," he said quietly.
The wall went back up and Ianto withdrew, both physically and emotionally. "I'll get you your food."
When he came back with the food, he refused to be drawn into conversation again and left immediately. Accepting the temporary tactical setback, the Doctor settled down to eat, enjoying the in-flight entertainment that was Jack Harkness in a snit. He'd never known Jack to maintain such a head of steam for so long and said as much. "In fact," he said gleefully, "I think you're this mad because you expected Ianto to greet you with open arms." To his delight, Jack immediately revved up again.
"I expected a certain basic loyalty!" Jack spat, managing to pace even in the tiny confines of his cell. "I should have known better. Ianto Jones is the poster boy for disloyalty!"
"Oooh, that's harsh," the Doctor tutted. "Do you make a habit of shoving past indiscretions in his face or this a special occasion?"
"Hello? This is me, locked in a cell in my own base-"
"Technically, that's not correct," the Doctor said mildly. "You left-"
"I was hijacked!" Now it was Jack's turn to interrupt.
"You didn't exactly scream at me to bring you back, did you?" the Doctor pointed out.
"I was in a time machine!" Jack yelled. "I could have been with you for a hundred years and still got back ten minutes after I'd left. Or I could have, if I had someone halfway competent at the controls. Instead I had you!"
"Oh, that was cutting," the Doctor observed cheerfully, "and yet I find myself strangely unscathed. The trouble with you, Jack, is that you're spoiled."
"What?"
"Spoiled rotten. Completely, utterly and stonkingly overwhelmingly spoiled to the max," the Doctor continued with a blithe disregard for Jack's outrage. "The trouble is, you charm your way out of most things and very, very few people are proof against that charm. It's your greatest asset. It can also be your greatest weakness, because you're used to having it work for you. You expected Ianto to welcome you with open arms. You expected that charm to work. It hasn't. Ianto isn't dancing to your tune and that, my friend, is really getting up your nose."
Jack glared at him, opened his mouth to say something crushing, then closed it again. After a moment, his shoulders slumped. "I really thought he'd be pleased to see me," he said, almost plaintively. "What did I do wrong?"
OOOO
"You came back," Ianto whispered as he watched the CCTV footage. "You've come back and now you're going to die."
OOOO
"You had better not be asleep," Jack threatened.
The Doctor smirked and opened one eye. "I'm meditating."
"On what?" Jack asked sarcastically.
"On how long it's going to take you to calm down, stop wasting your time trying to break out and just ask Ianto to talk to you."
Jack glowered at him. "I locked him in these cells on two occasions and he got out both times. If he can do it, I can do it."
The Doctor shook his head in disbelief. "You're still not getting it, are you? In one breath you tell me that you locked him up and then you complain when he returns the favour! Am I the only one who's noticing the slightly weird dynamic to your relationship with one another?" When Jack said nothing, he eyed him curiously. "What, no snarly come-back?"
Jack shrugged and paused to rest his head against the cell door. "Just wish it wasn't so hot. I don't remember the cells being heated like this before."
The Doctor frowned, feeling a prickle of unease. "I don't notice it being all that warm." He moved closer and studied Jack closely. "You're sweating."
"Well, yeah, I just told you I was hot," Jack pointed out.
"I have a very bad feeling about this," the Doctor said uneasily. He looked around and raised his voice. "Ianto, if you're monitoring us, I think you'd better get down here!" The door opened almost immediately and Ianto walked in. "Blimey, that was quick!" the Doctor said, blinking.
Ianto ignored him and went directly to Jack's cell where he leaned his hands against the clear door. "Are you still immortal?" he demanded.
"Why should I tell you?" Jack shot back.
"When you first came back and you thought I might shoot you, you said that it wouldn't do me any good. Was that a bluff or are you still immortal?"
Jack snorted. "Why don't you shoot me and find out?"
"Yes, he is," the Doctor said.
"Doc!"
"Oh, shut up, Jack," the Doctor said, his attention on where Ianto had slumped against the door. "This is what this is all about, isn't it?" he asked gently. "There's some kind of illness around and Jack has it."
Jack gave him a sharp look and then switched his gaze back to Ianto. "Is that true, Ianto?"
Ianto pushed himself away from the glass and gave him a bitter look. "Why in God's name did you have to come back?" he demanded tiredly before he turned and left.
He was back in half an hour, but by that time Jack had no doubts about his being ill. His clothes were soaked in sweat and he was shivering almost constantly. It was also difficult to stay upright and he had subsided on to the low bed, leaning against the wall. Now it was the Doctor's turn to pace, muttering under his breath and he pounced on Ianto's return.
"I was wondering where you'd got to," he scolded. "Jack needs medical attention."
"I have what he needs," Ianto said quietly. He opened the cell door and went inside, going over to sit beside Jack. Taking out some wipes from the kit he was carrying, he wiped Jack's face and neck. Jack sighed with relief.
"Feels good," he murmured. He blinked and focused on Ianto with difficulty. "Shouldn't you be in some kind of protective clothing?"
"I'm immune," Ianto said calmly.
Jack managed a small breathless laugh. "Bet that got up Owen's nose. Where is he, anyway?"
A shadow passed over Ianto's face. "He can't come."
"Not immune, is he?" Jack asked vaguely.
"No," Ianto said quietly as he reached into the kit again and pulled out a filled syringe. "He wasn't."
The Doctor gave him a sharp look as he caught the past tense. "What's that?" he demanded, gesturing at the syringe. "The cure?"
Ianto glanced at him and the Doctor flinched at the anguish he saw in the blue eyes. "Of a sort," he whispered.
Jack seemed to realise that something was wrong as well, and he laid a hand on Ianto's arm. "'Yan?"
Ianto managed to look him in the eye after a struggle. "You are going to die, Captain. You are going to die a lingering and painful death. In about another day, you'll stop sweating and your internal temperature will soar. Brain damage will occur shortly afterwards. Medical intervention will only delay that and make it worse for you as side effects set in. After that you will slide into a coma and then you will die. This-" he hefted the syringe, "-is fast and painless. It will kill you in ten minutes."
Jack looked at him. "There's no cure?" Ianto shook his head and Jack stuck his arm out. "Do it," he said flatly.
"Jack-" the Doctor started to protest.
"My decision, Doc," Jack said as Ianto undid his sleeve and rolled it up. "Ianto always was the practical one, weren't you, Ianto?"
There was a slight edge to his voice but if Ianto noticed it, he made no sign. He injected Jack with the poison and put the syringe away. "You had better lie down, Captain."
"I should have grabbed it off you and injected you with it," Jack said in a conversational tone as he obeyed.
"Maybe next time, sir."
Jack gave a breathy hiccup of a laugh. "You are unbelievable. You betray me for a third time, lock me up, threaten to kill the Doctor, keep me away from the rest of the team, pump me full of poison and still call me sir."
"You are a habit that is very hard to break, sir," Ianto said with a faint tremor to his voice. "Just relax and let the poison work."
"Do the rest of the team even know I'm here?" Jack demanded after a moment.
"I've told Tosh and Owen," Ianto said. "Gwen is currently away from the Hub but I will tell her when she calls."
He continued to sit with Jack as the other man lost consciousness. The Doctor noticed that Ianto didn't touch Jack until after he had passed out and then he had very gently stroked the side of his face. He nodded silently to himself as his suspicions were confirmed. Ianto was not acting like a man set on betrayal, no matter what Jack thought. Minutes passed and Jack's breathing gradually slowed and finally stopped. Ianto tested for a pulse at the throat, then leaned forward to rest his forehead against Jack's chest. He gave one huge shattering sob and then was silent, his body shuddering.
"It's never easy, is it?" the Doctor said sympathetically. "Even though you know he's immortal, there's always that little niggle of doubt at the back of your mind every time you see him dead."
"He wants to die," Ianto replied as he lifted his head and picked up the kit. "He's always wanted to die. That was just one more thing I could never give him." He got up to leave. "He's always thirsty when he comes back from the dead. I'll go and get some water."
"Ianto, wait. Please talk to me," the Doctor pleaded. "I'm not the fool I sometimes appear to be. There's a plague loose, isn't there?" For a moment he thought Ianto was going to ignore him again, but then the Welshman hesitated and leaned against the doorway of the cell. "Tell me," the Doctor demanded gently.
Ianto sighed and gave in. "It's called the Burning and it came from space over a year ago. It's killed about 5 billion people. It's difficult to find out exact figures these days." He saw the expression on the Doctor's face and almost laughed. "Did you think it was something small and cosy you could solve in time for tea? This isn't an invasion, Doctor. It's extinction."
Jack suddenly twitched and drew in a gasping breath. Ianto blinked and gave the Doctor a bemused look, as if he hadn't intended to tell him anything and now couldn't believe that he had. "I need to get him some water," he said before leaving.
He came back as a slightly groggy Jack was pushing himself upright. Too wary to go back into the cell, he pushed a paper cup full of water through the slot under the door and waited patiently to refill it from the jug he had with him. Jack watched him over the rim of the cup as he drank.
"So there's a plague on the loose," he said casually.
After a moment Ianto inclined his head. "Yes, sir."
"All of a sudden, I find myself getting a pretty good idea as to why the others haven't been down to see me," Jack continued. "What happened to them?"
Ianto hesitated, then sighed. "Tosh died first, then Owen. Gwen decided to leave Torchwood and I saw no profit in forcing her to stay."
Jack nodded and looked sad for a moment. "I'll miss them." He shook off the emotion and went back to pressing Ianto, knowing that he only had a small space of time before Ianto re-erected the barrier that had unaccountably risen between them. "Who did you replace them with?"
"No-one," Ianto said shortly. He lifted his chin and looked defiant when Jack gave him a sharp look. "People were too busy surviving a global plague to care about alien incursions, Captain."
"You're on your own?" Jack asked sharply.
"Don't think that will make it any easier for you, Captain," Ianto said coldly. "I've become extremely skilled at my job."
"Never mind about that," Jack said impatiently. "Ianto, you're empathic, for God's sake! Being alone is the worst thing you can do to yourself-"
"I do whatever is necessary to do my job!" Ianto flared back, his self-control momentarily slipping. "You weren't here! You didn't have to bear witness to the world burning alive and know there wasn't a thing you could do to stop it!" He turned and left, slamming the door behind him with considerable force.
"That went well," the Doctor observed brightly. "I must say that your diplomatic skills left me in awe just then."
Jack glowered at him. "He's not usually that touchy."
"I may be going out on a limb here, but I'd hazard a guess that he hasn't usually spent a year watching the world self-combust while single handedly maintaining Torchwood Three," the Doctor said dryly. He smiled slightly as Jack bit his lip. "Admit it; you're relieved now that you know he has a reason for why he's been acting this way."
Jack glared at him for a moment before looking away. "It doesn't explain why we're locked up!" He paused as the Doctor's smile widened. "Oh, let me guess; you've worked it out."
"If he's as thorough as he seems to be, it's obvious," the Doctor admitted. "Containment. He can't afford to let us go if there's a chance we can spread the Burning."
"Does he think we'd just run away?" Jack said hotly.
"Jack, all he probably knows about me is what Torchwood says about me. Did you tell him anything about me while you were here?" Jack's face gave him his answer.
"But he could trust me not to run," Jack protested. "Couldn't he?"
"Well, that's more of a mystery," the Doctor admitted. "I mean you worked together and probably got to know one another quite well, so why he seems to find it so difficult to trust you... what did I say?" he said in bewilderment when Jack gave a harsh bark of laughter.
"Let's just say that I get your point, Doc, even though it's not the one you intended to make." He sighed and settled back on the bed. "I just wish he would drop his defences and talk to me."
The Doctor came across to lean against the wall. "You mentioned he's an empath?" he asked curiously.
Jack immediately looked guilty. "That isn't common knowledge. He's probably mad at me for letting that slip in your hearing. He's spent most of his life hiding his gift - especially from Torchwood."
"It's just unusual to have a functional, well-balanced empath in this time-period, that's all," the Doctor said thoughtfully. "He must be an exceptionally stable individual to begin with."
Jack smiled faintly, but there was a hint of sadness to it. "He can sometimes seem a little anal or pedantic, but it's because he's terrified to losing control. It's something that seems to freak him out."
"It would. An empath's worse nightmare is to be overwhelmed by another person's emotions. You can lose yourself in that person's needs and their desires become paramount, regardless of how self-destructive it is for you."
"That happened," Jack admitted with a wince as he remembered Lisa. At first he had been unable to understand how Ianto could have believed even for a second that he could succeed in saving Lisa. Once he'd learned that the young Welshman was a self-taught empath, however, he'd realised that the incident with Lisa had been inevitable. "When I found out I tried to help, but I was guessing most of the time and made mistakes."
"Don't we all," the Doctor sighed, the weight of centuries heavy in his eyes. "Did you ever fully link with him?"
Despite the situation, Jack found himself smiling broadly at the memories. "Oh, yeah." That earned him an exasperated look.
"Any time outside of sex?"
Jack blinked, mentally shifting gears. "Um, once or twice. Hey, quit giving me The Look, okay? You have no idea what it took to get Ianto to let go of that damn self-control of his."
"That 'damned self-control' was probably the only thing keeping Ianto sane," the Doctor shot back. "The fact that he did let his guard down with you tells me that he does trust you. He probably wonders why on a regular basis - Lord knows I do - but he does. Just give him time."
"Thanks - I think," Jack said somewhat dubiously.
They went back to waiting, never a thing that Jack enjoyed or did very well. He spent the time trying to think of ways of trying to persuade Ianto to trust him again. He was so caught up with his thoughts that he missed the steady rise of heat within himself until the sweat started to get in his eyes. He scrubbed at his moist forehead and gave the Doctor an outraged look.
"Shouldn't I be immune now?" he complained.
"It doesn't look like it," the Doctor said worriedly. "I wonder where Ianto is?"
It took ten minutes for Ianto to appear. When he did, he had changed out of his waistcoat and suit into black fatigues. Both Jack and the Doctor blinked at the variety of weapons he was sporting, but the Doctor became acutely conscious of the gun Ianto pointed at him as he opened the door to the Doctor's cell and motioned at him to come out.
"Whatever it was I said, I wholeheartedly retract it," he offered.
Ianto ignored the attempt at humour and shoved a kit into the Doctor's hands and all but pushed him into Jack's cell. He closed the door and then went outside and came back with a large bottle of water and some ration bars that he shoved through the slot.
"What-?" Jack started.
"There have been three incursions," Ianto said flatly. "One is near the hospital and another near a school. I can't afford to ignore either of those. It's your choice whether you kill Jack, Doctor, or let him suffer. I'll be back as soon as I can."
He'd turned away and left before either of them could muster a protest. Jack immediately lapsed into a scathing assessment of Ianto's state of mind.
"Three incursions, for God's sake! And he goes off on his own to deal with them!" He was shaking with what the Doctor realised was a combination of anger and terror. "I know he can handle Weevils, but what if something else comes through? What if it's something like a Cyberman?"
"Jack, calm down," the Doctor told him worriedly. "You're not helping yourself."
"What?" Jack gave him an incredulous look. "How in hell's name does that matter? I'm already dying - which reminds me." He dug out the poison-filled syringe and injected himself with it almost absently, still focused on tearing Ianto's character and level of sanity to shreds.
"There's something just a little bit terrifying about the casual way you did that," the Doctor said in a strained voice.
"I'll come back," Jack retorted, albeit a little muzzily as he fell back on the bed. "Ianto won't. I'm going to kill that thick-headed Welsh idiot for worrying me like this."
"The scary thing about that last bit is that you'd still say it even if you weren't feverish," the Doctor sighed.
A little unsettled despite himself, the Doctor distracted himself by going through his pockets to see if he was carrying anything useful. He had a nasty feeling that it was going to be extremely difficult to make Ianto see reason and let them out in the immediate future. It might be wiser to take advantage of the fact that Ianto was now away from the Hub and unable to observe them. He had accumulated quite a pile of stuff by the time Jack gasped his way back to life. Remembering what Ianto had said about Jack being thirsty, the Doctor was ready with some water for him. Jack gulped down the first two glasses before slowing down to sip at a third as the Doctor went back to investigating his final pocket.
Jack watched in amusement, then stiffened as he spotted one particular item half-buried under some string and a yo-yo. He lunged forward and grabbed the mobile phone, turning to give the Time Lord an incredulous look. "You had this all along and didn't tell me?"
The Doctor snorted. "In the first place, who are we going to call? In the second place, how do you think our ferocious young Welsh friend would have reacted to my announcing that I had it on me?"
Jack grinned reluctantly. "He'd have been down like a shot and had it off you," he admitted. "The thing is, I may have someone to call, if the network is still working." He keyed in the number and mentally crossed his fingers. To his delight the call was answered and he heard a familiar voice. "Gwen! Lovely to hear your voice again. Listen, I hate to impose but I need you to do me one small favour..."
OOOO
Continue on to the second part here