Fic: The Boy Is Gone 4/?
TITLE: The Boy Is Gone 4/?
AUTHOR: Erin Giles
DISCLAIMER: Torchwood and its characters are property of the BBC. The Family Jones is of my own creation.
RATING: PG-15
PAIRINGS/CHARACTERS: Jack/Ianto, Gwen/Rhys, PC Andy, OC’s
SUMMARY: The Rift has never been the most stable influence in Ianto Jones’ life but when children in Cardiff start disappearing all over the city, Ianto’s family life crashes rather dramatically with Torchwood.
AUTHOR NOTES: This is the sequel to my stories, “Family Matters” and “A Nostalgic Yearning” and is the finale in the series “Footprints in the Sand”. It will not make sense unless you have read these. Set post Exit Wounds.
Right, that Hate-mail you all want to send me. Please forward it onto: Erin Giles, Arse-end-of-nowhere-Wales, Angstville. I'm scared to post Part 5 if I'm honest... Also the scene at the end of this chap with Jack & Ianto in the kitchen is for cailenbraern. She knows why - thanks hun! ;)
| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 |
Saturday 9th August 5.39pm
“Been looking everywhere for you,” Jack said softly as he sat beside Ianto in the empty church.
“Well you found me,” Ianto replied mock-cheerily, not even looking at Jack. An uncomfortable silence descended between them as they listened to the rain hammering down on the roof of the church.
“Helen called me, said you stopped by Flat Holm,” Jack eventually broke the silence, wanting to reach out to Ianto but instead put his hands on his knees, clasping and unclasping them.
“She was worried about you, said that after you’d searched frantically through all the rooms you just left. Said you weren’t your usual polite self,” Jack continued, trying to get Ianto to say something, but Ianto remained stoic.
“Have you been here since?” Jack prompted.
“Some of the time,” Ianto replied eventually. Ianto was pulling himself to his feet now, moving out the pew. Jack got up to follow but Ianto turned back to face him, putting a hand on his shoulder to stop him.
“I need to be on my own for a bit. I’ve got my phone,” Ianto said, tone void of any emotion before he was walking up the centre aisle in the church, his dress shoes echoing off the tiled floor. Jack sat down in the pew and heard the clatter of the church door opening and closing interluded by the harsh sound of rain on tarmac before Jack was alone.
Jack bent his head towards his clasped hands until his forehead was resting on the back of the pew in front of him.
“Are you okay?”
Jack was startled by the voice in such close proximity to him, his head snapping up to be met with the view of, what he presumed was the vicar, looking down at him, concern evident in his eyes.
“Sorry Father, I was just thinking,” Jack replied, getting to his feet to move away.
“No, it’s fine I just was wondering if you wanted to talk about what was troubling you?” the preist prompted, a hand on Jack’s shoulder now, encouraging him to sit back down. Jack hesitated.
“I was just looking for my friend, but he’s gone now,” Jack admitted before attempting to move away again. He’d never felt very comfortable in churches.
“You’re a friend of Ianto’s then?” the Father was asking as Jack stopped mid-stride, turning back to the elderly looking pastor. Jack nodded hesitantly.
“He’s a good lad, comes when he can on a Sunday,” the Father said without prompting, happy to talk now he’d found some common ground with this stranger in his church.
“I usually see him once a week whether it’s five minutes or a whole service. He’s been coming more and more often recently though.” There was a pause as the man took in Jack’s appearance, apparently putting two and two together.
“You must be Jack?” the Father asked, taking Jack by surprise before he was holding out his hand towards Jack.
“Father Bowen.”
Jack took his hand, shaking it surely.
“Jack Harkness.”
There was another lull before Jack was sitting back down in a pew again, pulling his coat about him in an act of protection.
“How long have you known Ianto?” Jack asked eventually.
“Oh, since he was a lad. Rona used to bring all her young’uns to church on a Sunday. I thought he’d lost his belief when he was about fifteen. I used to hear about how he was getting on from Rona, then one day he turned up with her again, all grown up like,” the Father reminisced before he was sitting down beside Jack.
“It was like he’d had a personality transplant. Not the cheeky young boy I remember, far from it in fact. Rona told me he’d lost his girlfriend in that disaster at Canary Wharf,” Bowen said sadly, looking down at his own clasped hands before glancing across at Jack who was listening intently.
“I’m glad to see some of that cheekiness seeping back in though this past year,” Bowen smiled and caught Jack smiling back at him.
“Yeah,” Jack nodded, before he was talking.
“We lost some close friends not long ago and I’d never realised how much a rock Ianto is until it happened. He’s lost so many people, and he’s still so young. I know his shoulders are broad, I just worry about him sometimes,” Jack admitted, still staring resolutely at his hands. There was a pregnant pause before Jack looked up at Bowen.
“I sometimes worry what I’m going to do without him,” Jack said, staring intensely into the Father’s eyes for a long moment before he was looking up at the candles flickering down the front of the church.
“Blessed be the Lord, my rock, who trains my hands for war, and my fingers for battle,” Father Bowen replied eventually. Jack didn’t say anything. He wasn’t religious and at the moment he found it hard to take comfort in the Father’s words. He bit back his witty retort though, because he knew deep down Ianto still believed in the words of a man who couldn’t possible hold his fate in the palm of his hand - he’d seen too much, like Jack. But the words were comforting to Ianto and Jack now tried to find some comfort of his own, something that had been wearing thin for a long time.
Saturday 9th August 7.25pm
Thunder rumbled somewhere in the distance, sheets of rain lashing down onto the gravel in the Roald Dahl Plass that soaked any bugger stupid enough to go out into it within seconds. Ianto didn't know how long he'd been out in the torrential weather blowing in from the Irish Sea, and he quite frankly didn’t care. He was sure that his watch was broken it was that water-logged though. Ianto was reminded of something his mother always used to tell him when he came home from school soaking wet in nothing but his school shirt. 'Runs off when it gets to the skin.'
A young man hurried past him, head bent against the wind and rain, a confident stride in his step that said he was in a hurry to get to his destination.
"Excuse me," Ianto tried to get his attention, falling instep with him and thrusting the photograph he had in his hands within eye level. "Do you recognise this boy?"
The man didn't even so much as cast a cursory glance over the photograph before he was shaking his head and ploughing his way on through the night storm. Ianto was fed up now. His hands were red raw and numb, his teeth were chattering and he could barely see for raindrops hanging on the end of his eyelashes.
“Hey!” Ianto called as he grabbed the young man by the arm, pulling him back and shoving the photo in his face.
“Look at it. Do you recognise him?” Ianto kept his death like grip on the man’s arm until he shook his head reluctantly.
“No, sorry mate.”
Ianto grudgingly let him go before he converged on a group of girls tottering across the Plass in high heels, jackets held over their heads to keep off the rain even though they were already soaked beyond salvation.
“Have you seen this boy?” Ianto asked, holding up the photo as he blinked through his sodden eyelashes. To their credit the girls actually stopped and properly looked, though whether it was their maternal side or their desire to see the young Welshman out of the wet suit was debatable.
“Oh no, did he run away from home?” one of the girls cooed, actually taking the picture out of Ianto’s hands to look.
“Someone took him.” Ianto’s voice cracked slightly as he reached out for the photo.
“Have you seen him?”
All four girls shook their head sadly. “Sorry, love. Hope you find him though,” and with that they were all tottering off again down to Mermaid Quay.
Jack saw Ianto’s face crumple slightly on the CCTV before he was collaring an elderly couple that were making their way to the ballet at the Welsh Millennium Centre.
“How long’s he been out there now?” Gwen asked, handing Jack a coffee, which he immediately placed down on his desk.
“Too long,” Jack voiced as he grabbed his coat from the stand and made for the invisible lift.
When he emerged on the topside Ianto was busy chasing a group of Japanese tourists across the Plass who were ignoring him, thinking he was trying to sell them something and not just looking for his lost nephew. Jack strode straight towards him, causing Ianto to turn towards him purposefully.
“Have you seen-“ Ianto stopped mid-sentence, suddenly realising who he was talking to.
“Come to help now have we?” Ianto asked sarcastically, starting to turn away from Jack to regard a couple that were walking their way.
“Excuse me, have you seen this boy?” The woman paused briefly to look at the photo before shaking her head and ducking back under the umbrella her husband was holding.
“Ianto you need to come inside, you’re soaked through,” Jack encouraged, following Ianto as he moved towards a young businesswoman.
“No what I need to do is find my nephew,” Ianto ground out as he thrust the photo into another person’s face.
“Ianto making yourself ill is not going to help Finn,” Jack called, continuing to follow Ianto who was now ignoring him, desperately shoving Finn’s photo under anyone’s face that would look.
“Ianto,” Jack stated calmly, grabbing a hold of his arm and spinning him round when Ianto ignored him.
“Ianto, please. Just come inside for a bit until you warm up and dry off. Maybe something to eat as well,” Jack coaxed, running a hand up and down Ianto’s arm reassuringly. Ianto hesitated, looking like he was going fly off the handle again.
“Please, come inside for a bit and I’ll come back out with you later on. We’ll go up by the Castle again, see if anyone saw anything,” Jack encouraged, looping an arm round Ianto’s back and leading him back towards the invisible lift before he had a chance to protest.
Gwen was already stood at the bottom holding a blanket, which she bundled around a now shivering Ianto. Jack rubbed at his back as Ianto stepped off the lift on shaky legs, leading him towards his office.
“Come on, you need a warm shower.”
Saturday 9th August 8.49pm
“Thanks,” Jack whispered politely as he took the mug Gwen offered him, his eyes never leaving Ianto’s still form which was now laid out on the couch.
Gwen tugged on his arm slightly, pulling him away from the main area of the hub into his office.
”Did you give him something?” Gwen asked abruptly. Jack feigned ignorance before he nodded uncomfortably.
“Good,” Gwen agreed, catching Jack slightly of guard before she was ploughing on into the real reason she’d dragged Jack in his office.
“Andy called me while you were seeing to Ianto. Apparently four other kids have gone missing today,” Gwen said softly, leaning on Jack’s desk as he took up his seat.
“So what are we thinking? A gang of some sort?” Jack pondered, clutching defensively at his coffee.
“I don’t know. Andy thinks it may be one of our ‘spooky doos’. Apparently the mother of the second child said she saw her dead brother before she felt her son pulled from her grip. When she turned back her brother was gone along with her child.”
“So what? Ghosts? It’s still not really our thing Gwen,” Jack answered. Gwen huffed out a disbelieving laugh.
“Jack, it’s Ianto’s nephew. I don’t think he really cares if it’s Torchwood related or not right now. What matters is finding Finn,” Gwen stated firmly. “You know what, I don’t care if you don’t want to help him, I do and I will because Ianto is as much a part of my family as Finn is his.” Gwen slammed her mug down on Jack’s desk, turning, ready to flounce off, but Jack already had a vice like grip on her wrist.
“You think I don’t care Gwen? You think I’m not worried sick like Ianto as well?”
“Well, you sure hide it well,” Gwen spat.
“I just don’t want it be Torchwood related, I don’t want-” Jack gave an exasperated sigh before he sat back down again, letting go of Gwen’s wrist and looking down at his unfinished paperwork.
“Ianto is the closest thing to family I’ve had in a long time. Finn calls me Uncle Jack,” Jack sighed almost wistfully, swallowing painfully past the lump in his throat.
Gwen sighed, her anger dissipating, reaching out for Jack just as his phone started ringing.
“Hello?”
“Jack, thank god I’ve been at the police station all day, apparently there’s other children gone missing and now I can’t get a hold of Ianto, he’s not at the house and he’s not answering his phone. I called Dad but he’s not been by there either,” Rhiannon babbled down the phone.
“Ria, he’s fine, he’s at work with me,” Jack reassured, moving round his desk slightly so he could see Ianto fast asleep on the couch, curled into a foetal position. He heard Ria let out a sigh of relief.
"Thank God," Ria breathed and Jack almost heard her sinking down into a chair in relief.
"Did the police have any leads?" Jack questioned. He already knew they didn't, he just wanted to make Ria more involved in finding her son. He didn't think he could deal with a pregnant woman as close to hysterics as Ianto was. He was surprised at how calm Ria was being though.
"No, nothing. But there's been four more children gone missing as well now, they think it's organised," Ria choked slightly. "I can't believe someone would do this, why would they want our children?"
"I don't know, but we'll find them whoever they are, don't worry," Jack tried to soothe, his eyes still firmly fixed on the sleeping form of Ianto as emotion twisted a painfully knot in his stomach.
"We'll be back before midnight Ria, are you okay on your own until then?" Jack questioned, watching as Ianto huffed slightly in his sleep, turning his head further into the pillow.
"Don't worry about me Jack." Ria sounded almost light-hearted. "Just you do what you have to do and take care of yourself. I'll see you later." There was a click as she rung off and a moment where Jack listened to the dial tone. Gwen was still hovering by his shoulder, looking concerned.
"That woman constantly surprises me," Jack whispered so softly Gwen had to strain to hear him.
"Why?"
"She's lost her son today and yet she's telling me to take care of myself. She might never get him back Gwen and she's more worried about Ianto and me running ourselves ragged." Jack huffed out an almost hysterical laugh before he finally wrenched his eyes away from Ianto, going around the back of his desk and plonking himself down in his chair.
"Hope," Gwen whispered eventually when the silence had gone on too long. Her back was to Jack, replacing him in their vigil over Ianto.
"What?"
"She's got hope. Like Nikki Beven had before I took her to Flat Holm. She had hope that her son was still out there somewhere, that he was coming back to her eventually." Gwen finally turned towards Jack, her arms folded over the front of her chest.
"Ianto doesn't have that luxury working for Torchwood. He's not innocent anymore, but his sister still is, she's still got that hope and Ianto doesn't want her to lose it, that's what he's clinging onto. His sister's hope is the only thing that's going to drag him through this." Jack could see tears in Gwen's eyes, but she refused to let them fall.
"We're going to find Finn, Jack, because I've seen Ianto when he's with his family and you, I've seen him at his true age, carefree, innocent and full of hope. And I don't want to see him lose that. If he loses that he's taking away my hope and what we're fighting for."
Gwen didn't bother to wait for Jack to say anything. She turned on her heel and disappeared off down the corridor to the boardroom, presumably to call Andy for more information, or pull up the missing children's reports, something to make her not feel useless in the situation.
That was when Jack pulled himself to his feet as well, grabbing for his coat and picking up the slightly damp picture of Finn from the coffee table beside a slumbering Ianto. He watched Ianto breathing evenly for a moment before he was heading towards the invisible lift, ascending onto the Plass to take over Ianto's earlier job.
Saturday 9th August 10.51pm
It was some hours later before Jack saw a familiar figure walking across the Plass towards him.
"Jack!" Gwen called above the hammering rain, running to greet him as she pulled her coat tighter round her.
"Ianto's awake," she spoke calmly and Jack did nothing but nod in reply before turning back to the task at hand.
"Jack," Gwen spoke again, a hand reaching out to rest on his forearm that was clutching at the photo of Finn. "Take him home," Gwen encouraged.
"And do what?" Jack called above the rain, confusion in his voice. "I thought you wanted me to find Finn, that's what I'm doing."
"You need to be with him!" Gwen replied indignantly. "He needs you right now! He doesn't need Captain Harkness or Head of Torchwood or the 51st Century flirt, he needs Jack. So go and just be with him." Gwen waited for Jack to make a move or respond in some way but he continued to stare gormlessly at Gwen through the raindrops.
"You may not need him Jack, but he needs you," Gwen uttered before she was splashing across the Plass towards the car park at the Red Dragon Shopping Centre where she'd left her car that morning. Jack watched her go, every gear in his brain whirring loudly, but not loud enough to drown out the deafening drumbeat of his heart in his throat.
Saturday 9th August 11.43pm
Ianto read the note on the fridge for the millionth time.
'Gone to Chris'. Just in case you come home anytime soon. Can't be alone right now. Sorry. Ria x'.
He could feel Jack hovering uncertainly behind him but he didn't have the energy to tell him to go or stay. One way or the other Ianto no longer had the energy to care.
"Maybe it's for the best," Jack said eventually, obviously referring to the note, making Ianto realise he didn't want to talk about it. He didn't want to talk about anything. He wanted to be doing something. He couldn't just sit about and wait for something to happen even though he knew he desperately needed sleep.
He didn't want to think anymore either and it wasn't his brain he was thinking with when he spun around in his kitchen, grabbing Jack by his braces and slamming him back into the fridge so it rocked ominously. Ianto didn't notice, was too preoccupied with the fact he had his tongue stuck down Jack's throat, one hand on his crotch as the other started un-tucking Jack's shirt from his trousers.
He was shocked when Jack's palms pressed flat against his chest, pushing him back so there was a reasonable distance between them.
"Ianto, I don't think that-" Jack started but Ianto was already forcing himself back upon Jack, fingers fumbling with Jack's shirt buttons as he tried to kiss him again. Jack's push was more forceful this time causing Ianto to stumble back slightly, grabbing onto the kitchen table for support.
"Ianto, this isn't you," Jack spoke calmly but forcefully. "Well it is you, but not now, not after everything." Jack stopped and took a deep breath before he looked back up at Ianto. He saw the pain and hurt reflecting back at him with a kind of despondent despair. Jack caved and moved to embrace Ianto in a hug but Ianto was side stepping him now, pushing Jack away from him.
"I don't want a pity shag," Ianto spat, moving round the kitchen table and leaving the kitchen. Jack heard the distinctive creak of floorboards as Ianto took the stairs two at a time before he heard Ianto's bedroom door slam. Jack let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding, a hand running down his face in frustration before he was turning round to face the fridge. He pulled Ria's note from the front of fridge, crumpling it up before throwing it into the bin by the back door. It left a child's drawing of a blue sheep in its wake, its orange eyes glaring out at him with a reproachfulness that made Jack uneasy. He tucked his shirt back into his trousers and re-did the buttons on it, smoothing down the fabric in a self-conscious manner.
He glanced up at the ceiling of the kitchen as he heard the distinct sound of something being broken. He worried his lip, unsure whether to go up and check Ianto was okay or wait until he'd cooled off a bit. His head warred with his heart for a long moment before he sat down at the kitchen table listening to Ianto's movements upstairs.
Sunday 10th August 2.50am
It was the early hours of the morning before Jack dared to venture upstairs. Ianto had been quiet for the best part of twenty minutes now and Jack thought he had maybe worn himself out and finally crawled into bed. He found a small glow coming from under Ianto's bedroom door, knocking cautiously before pushing it open.
Ianto was looking at him slightly wide eyed as if surprised to find Jack still here.
"Sorry about earlier," Ianto said quietly.
Jack shook his head in return, as if to say 'don't worry about it' before he sunk down onto the floor of the bedroom beside Ianto. He lent his back against the bed, his legs splaying slightly so that his right one lent against Ianto’s left one that was bent to his chest. Jack’s eyes roamed over the photo albums that were out of the floor in front of him.
He saw a picture of Gwen, Tosh, Ianto and Owen all huddled into a booth in a pub somewhere, clinging onto each other in a drunken happy haze of alcohol. One of Ianto’s arms was slung round Owen’s shoulders in a gesture of brotherly love that Jack would never have thought possible between Ianto and Owen - they had tolerated each other at best. Ianto’s other arm pulled Tosh into his side so her head fitted snugly in the curve of his neck in an almost protective gesture. Gwen was at his other shoulder, her arms round all of them in an open hug that suggested at the closeness of the small group. It must have been taken while Jack was away with the Doctor because he has no recollection of the night.
He noted another photo that he remembers well. Him and Finn lent against the railings when they went to Devil’s Bridge. Finn is giggling, as Jack’s fingers seem to dance over his ribs, even in the still photo. Jack is laughing heartily himself and the picture has a fuzzy quality like the person holding the camera is also laughing.
Another photo reveals a younger Ianto surrounded by his siblings in what is undoubtedly a posed family photo. Ianto looks grouchy, dressed in shorts and t-shirt as Rhiannon tries to use her fingers to manipulate a smile onto her little brother’s face. Ianto’s mother is lurking in the background with a reproachful look on her face while her youngest kids squabble; the older one’s looking on in silent antipathy.
Several other photos smile up at Jack from their 2D world, capturing moments both vividly remembered and instantly forgotten. Jack doesn’t say anything to break the unearthly silence that has fallen over the unspoken memories, a sob breaking the quiet as it evades Ianto’s defences. Jack reaches out an arm, placing it round the younger man’s shoulders and pulling him into his side.
Ianto’s knees flop to the side over Jack’s right thigh as he tucks himself round Jack’s side, sighing into Jack’s chest and breathing him in. Jack’s hand rubs unconsciously at Ianto’s back as his bare feet scuff the carpet in an attempt to get closer to Jack’s reassuring presence.
“We’ll find him, don’t worry,” Jack whispered into Ianto’s hair.
On to Part 5
AUTHOR: Erin Giles
DISCLAIMER: Torchwood and its characters are property of the BBC. The Family Jones is of my own creation.
RATING: PG-15
PAIRINGS/CHARACTERS: Jack/Ianto, Gwen/Rhys, PC Andy, OC’s
SUMMARY: The Rift has never been the most stable influence in Ianto Jones’ life but when children in Cardiff start disappearing all over the city, Ianto’s family life crashes rather dramatically with Torchwood.
AUTHOR NOTES: This is the sequel to my stories, “Family Matters” and “A Nostalgic Yearning” and is the finale in the series “Footprints in the Sand”. It will not make sense unless you have read these. Set post Exit Wounds.
Right, that Hate-mail you all want to send me. Please forward it onto: Erin Giles, Arse-end-of-nowhere-Wales, Angstville. I'm scared to post Part 5 if I'm honest... Also the scene at the end of this chap with Jack & Ianto in the kitchen is for cailenbraern. She knows why - thanks hun! ;)
| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 |
Saturday 9th August 5.39pm
“Been looking everywhere for you,” Jack said softly as he sat beside Ianto in the empty church.
“Well you found me,” Ianto replied mock-cheerily, not even looking at Jack. An uncomfortable silence descended between them as they listened to the rain hammering down on the roof of the church.
“Helen called me, said you stopped by Flat Holm,” Jack eventually broke the silence, wanting to reach out to Ianto but instead put his hands on his knees, clasping and unclasping them.
“She was worried about you, said that after you’d searched frantically through all the rooms you just left. Said you weren’t your usual polite self,” Jack continued, trying to get Ianto to say something, but Ianto remained stoic.
“Have you been here since?” Jack prompted.
“Some of the time,” Ianto replied eventually. Ianto was pulling himself to his feet now, moving out the pew. Jack got up to follow but Ianto turned back to face him, putting a hand on his shoulder to stop him.
“I need to be on my own for a bit. I’ve got my phone,” Ianto said, tone void of any emotion before he was walking up the centre aisle in the church, his dress shoes echoing off the tiled floor. Jack sat down in the pew and heard the clatter of the church door opening and closing interluded by the harsh sound of rain on tarmac before Jack was alone.
Jack bent his head towards his clasped hands until his forehead was resting on the back of the pew in front of him.
“Are you okay?”
Jack was startled by the voice in such close proximity to him, his head snapping up to be met with the view of, what he presumed was the vicar, looking down at him, concern evident in his eyes.
“Sorry Father, I was just thinking,” Jack replied, getting to his feet to move away.
“No, it’s fine I just was wondering if you wanted to talk about what was troubling you?” the preist prompted, a hand on Jack’s shoulder now, encouraging him to sit back down. Jack hesitated.
“I was just looking for my friend, but he’s gone now,” Jack admitted before attempting to move away again. He’d never felt very comfortable in churches.
“You’re a friend of Ianto’s then?” the Father was asking as Jack stopped mid-stride, turning back to the elderly looking pastor. Jack nodded hesitantly.
“He’s a good lad, comes when he can on a Sunday,” the Father said without prompting, happy to talk now he’d found some common ground with this stranger in his church.
“I usually see him once a week whether it’s five minutes or a whole service. He’s been coming more and more often recently though.” There was a pause as the man took in Jack’s appearance, apparently putting two and two together.
“You must be Jack?” the Father asked, taking Jack by surprise before he was holding out his hand towards Jack.
“Father Bowen.”
Jack took his hand, shaking it surely.
“Jack Harkness.”
There was another lull before Jack was sitting back down in a pew again, pulling his coat about him in an act of protection.
“How long have you known Ianto?” Jack asked eventually.
“Oh, since he was a lad. Rona used to bring all her young’uns to church on a Sunday. I thought he’d lost his belief when he was about fifteen. I used to hear about how he was getting on from Rona, then one day he turned up with her again, all grown up like,” the Father reminisced before he was sitting down beside Jack.
“It was like he’d had a personality transplant. Not the cheeky young boy I remember, far from it in fact. Rona told me he’d lost his girlfriend in that disaster at Canary Wharf,” Bowen said sadly, looking down at his own clasped hands before glancing across at Jack who was listening intently.
“I’m glad to see some of that cheekiness seeping back in though this past year,” Bowen smiled and caught Jack smiling back at him.
“Yeah,” Jack nodded, before he was talking.
“We lost some close friends not long ago and I’d never realised how much a rock Ianto is until it happened. He’s lost so many people, and he’s still so young. I know his shoulders are broad, I just worry about him sometimes,” Jack admitted, still staring resolutely at his hands. There was a pregnant pause before Jack looked up at Bowen.
“I sometimes worry what I’m going to do without him,” Jack said, staring intensely into the Father’s eyes for a long moment before he was looking up at the candles flickering down the front of the church.
“Blessed be the Lord, my rock, who trains my hands for war, and my fingers for battle,” Father Bowen replied eventually. Jack didn’t say anything. He wasn’t religious and at the moment he found it hard to take comfort in the Father’s words. He bit back his witty retort though, because he knew deep down Ianto still believed in the words of a man who couldn’t possible hold his fate in the palm of his hand - he’d seen too much, like Jack. But the words were comforting to Ianto and Jack now tried to find some comfort of his own, something that had been wearing thin for a long time.
Saturday 9th August 7.25pm
Thunder rumbled somewhere in the distance, sheets of rain lashing down onto the gravel in the Roald Dahl Plass that soaked any bugger stupid enough to go out into it within seconds. Ianto didn't know how long he'd been out in the torrential weather blowing in from the Irish Sea, and he quite frankly didn’t care. He was sure that his watch was broken it was that water-logged though. Ianto was reminded of something his mother always used to tell him when he came home from school soaking wet in nothing but his school shirt. 'Runs off when it gets to the skin.'
A young man hurried past him, head bent against the wind and rain, a confident stride in his step that said he was in a hurry to get to his destination.
"Excuse me," Ianto tried to get his attention, falling instep with him and thrusting the photograph he had in his hands within eye level. "Do you recognise this boy?"
The man didn't even so much as cast a cursory glance over the photograph before he was shaking his head and ploughing his way on through the night storm. Ianto was fed up now. His hands were red raw and numb, his teeth were chattering and he could barely see for raindrops hanging on the end of his eyelashes.
“Hey!” Ianto called as he grabbed the young man by the arm, pulling him back and shoving the photo in his face.
“Look at it. Do you recognise him?” Ianto kept his death like grip on the man’s arm until he shook his head reluctantly.
“No, sorry mate.”
Ianto grudgingly let him go before he converged on a group of girls tottering across the Plass in high heels, jackets held over their heads to keep off the rain even though they were already soaked beyond salvation.
“Have you seen this boy?” Ianto asked, holding up the photo as he blinked through his sodden eyelashes. To their credit the girls actually stopped and properly looked, though whether it was their maternal side or their desire to see the young Welshman out of the wet suit was debatable.
“Oh no, did he run away from home?” one of the girls cooed, actually taking the picture out of Ianto’s hands to look.
“Someone took him.” Ianto’s voice cracked slightly as he reached out for the photo.
“Have you seen him?”
All four girls shook their head sadly. “Sorry, love. Hope you find him though,” and with that they were all tottering off again down to Mermaid Quay.
Jack saw Ianto’s face crumple slightly on the CCTV before he was collaring an elderly couple that were making their way to the ballet at the Welsh Millennium Centre.
“How long’s he been out there now?” Gwen asked, handing Jack a coffee, which he immediately placed down on his desk.
“Too long,” Jack voiced as he grabbed his coat from the stand and made for the invisible lift.
When he emerged on the topside Ianto was busy chasing a group of Japanese tourists across the Plass who were ignoring him, thinking he was trying to sell them something and not just looking for his lost nephew. Jack strode straight towards him, causing Ianto to turn towards him purposefully.
“Have you seen-“ Ianto stopped mid-sentence, suddenly realising who he was talking to.
“Come to help now have we?” Ianto asked sarcastically, starting to turn away from Jack to regard a couple that were walking their way.
“Excuse me, have you seen this boy?” The woman paused briefly to look at the photo before shaking her head and ducking back under the umbrella her husband was holding.
“Ianto you need to come inside, you’re soaked through,” Jack encouraged, following Ianto as he moved towards a young businesswoman.
“No what I need to do is find my nephew,” Ianto ground out as he thrust the photo into another person’s face.
“Ianto making yourself ill is not going to help Finn,” Jack called, continuing to follow Ianto who was now ignoring him, desperately shoving Finn’s photo under anyone’s face that would look.
“Ianto,” Jack stated calmly, grabbing a hold of his arm and spinning him round when Ianto ignored him.
“Ianto, please. Just come inside for a bit until you warm up and dry off. Maybe something to eat as well,” Jack coaxed, running a hand up and down Ianto’s arm reassuringly. Ianto hesitated, looking like he was going fly off the handle again.
“Please, come inside for a bit and I’ll come back out with you later on. We’ll go up by the Castle again, see if anyone saw anything,” Jack encouraged, looping an arm round Ianto’s back and leading him back towards the invisible lift before he had a chance to protest.
Gwen was already stood at the bottom holding a blanket, which she bundled around a now shivering Ianto. Jack rubbed at his back as Ianto stepped off the lift on shaky legs, leading him towards his office.
“Come on, you need a warm shower.”
Saturday 9th August 8.49pm
“Thanks,” Jack whispered politely as he took the mug Gwen offered him, his eyes never leaving Ianto’s still form which was now laid out on the couch.
Gwen tugged on his arm slightly, pulling him away from the main area of the hub into his office.
”Did you give him something?” Gwen asked abruptly. Jack feigned ignorance before he nodded uncomfortably.
“Good,” Gwen agreed, catching Jack slightly of guard before she was ploughing on into the real reason she’d dragged Jack in his office.
“Andy called me while you were seeing to Ianto. Apparently four other kids have gone missing today,” Gwen said softly, leaning on Jack’s desk as he took up his seat.
“So what are we thinking? A gang of some sort?” Jack pondered, clutching defensively at his coffee.
“I don’t know. Andy thinks it may be one of our ‘spooky doos’. Apparently the mother of the second child said she saw her dead brother before she felt her son pulled from her grip. When she turned back her brother was gone along with her child.”
“So what? Ghosts? It’s still not really our thing Gwen,” Jack answered. Gwen huffed out a disbelieving laugh.
“Jack, it’s Ianto’s nephew. I don’t think he really cares if it’s Torchwood related or not right now. What matters is finding Finn,” Gwen stated firmly. “You know what, I don’t care if you don’t want to help him, I do and I will because Ianto is as much a part of my family as Finn is his.” Gwen slammed her mug down on Jack’s desk, turning, ready to flounce off, but Jack already had a vice like grip on her wrist.
“You think I don’t care Gwen? You think I’m not worried sick like Ianto as well?”
“Well, you sure hide it well,” Gwen spat.
“I just don’t want it be Torchwood related, I don’t want-” Jack gave an exasperated sigh before he sat back down again, letting go of Gwen’s wrist and looking down at his unfinished paperwork.
“Ianto is the closest thing to family I’ve had in a long time. Finn calls me Uncle Jack,” Jack sighed almost wistfully, swallowing painfully past the lump in his throat.
Gwen sighed, her anger dissipating, reaching out for Jack just as his phone started ringing.
“Hello?”
“Jack, thank god I’ve been at the police station all day, apparently there’s other children gone missing and now I can’t get a hold of Ianto, he’s not at the house and he’s not answering his phone. I called Dad but he’s not been by there either,” Rhiannon babbled down the phone.
“Ria, he’s fine, he’s at work with me,” Jack reassured, moving round his desk slightly so he could see Ianto fast asleep on the couch, curled into a foetal position. He heard Ria let out a sigh of relief.
"Thank God," Ria breathed and Jack almost heard her sinking down into a chair in relief.
"Did the police have any leads?" Jack questioned. He already knew they didn't, he just wanted to make Ria more involved in finding her son. He didn't think he could deal with a pregnant woman as close to hysterics as Ianto was. He was surprised at how calm Ria was being though.
"No, nothing. But there's been four more children gone missing as well now, they think it's organised," Ria choked slightly. "I can't believe someone would do this, why would they want our children?"
"I don't know, but we'll find them whoever they are, don't worry," Jack tried to soothe, his eyes still firmly fixed on the sleeping form of Ianto as emotion twisted a painfully knot in his stomach.
"We'll be back before midnight Ria, are you okay on your own until then?" Jack questioned, watching as Ianto huffed slightly in his sleep, turning his head further into the pillow.
"Don't worry about me Jack." Ria sounded almost light-hearted. "Just you do what you have to do and take care of yourself. I'll see you later." There was a click as she rung off and a moment where Jack listened to the dial tone. Gwen was still hovering by his shoulder, looking concerned.
"That woman constantly surprises me," Jack whispered so softly Gwen had to strain to hear him.
"Why?"
"She's lost her son today and yet she's telling me to take care of myself. She might never get him back Gwen and she's more worried about Ianto and me running ourselves ragged." Jack huffed out an almost hysterical laugh before he finally wrenched his eyes away from Ianto, going around the back of his desk and plonking himself down in his chair.
"Hope," Gwen whispered eventually when the silence had gone on too long. Her back was to Jack, replacing him in their vigil over Ianto.
"What?"
"She's got hope. Like Nikki Beven had before I took her to Flat Holm. She had hope that her son was still out there somewhere, that he was coming back to her eventually." Gwen finally turned towards Jack, her arms folded over the front of her chest.
"Ianto doesn't have that luxury working for Torchwood. He's not innocent anymore, but his sister still is, she's still got that hope and Ianto doesn't want her to lose it, that's what he's clinging onto. His sister's hope is the only thing that's going to drag him through this." Jack could see tears in Gwen's eyes, but she refused to let them fall.
"We're going to find Finn, Jack, because I've seen Ianto when he's with his family and you, I've seen him at his true age, carefree, innocent and full of hope. And I don't want to see him lose that. If he loses that he's taking away my hope and what we're fighting for."
Gwen didn't bother to wait for Jack to say anything. She turned on her heel and disappeared off down the corridor to the boardroom, presumably to call Andy for more information, or pull up the missing children's reports, something to make her not feel useless in the situation.
That was when Jack pulled himself to his feet as well, grabbing for his coat and picking up the slightly damp picture of Finn from the coffee table beside a slumbering Ianto. He watched Ianto breathing evenly for a moment before he was heading towards the invisible lift, ascending onto the Plass to take over Ianto's earlier job.
Saturday 9th August 10.51pm
It was some hours later before Jack saw a familiar figure walking across the Plass towards him.
"Jack!" Gwen called above the hammering rain, running to greet him as she pulled her coat tighter round her.
"Ianto's awake," she spoke calmly and Jack did nothing but nod in reply before turning back to the task at hand.
"Jack," Gwen spoke again, a hand reaching out to rest on his forearm that was clutching at the photo of Finn. "Take him home," Gwen encouraged.
"And do what?" Jack called above the rain, confusion in his voice. "I thought you wanted me to find Finn, that's what I'm doing."
"You need to be with him!" Gwen replied indignantly. "He needs you right now! He doesn't need Captain Harkness or Head of Torchwood or the 51st Century flirt, he needs Jack. So go and just be with him." Gwen waited for Jack to make a move or respond in some way but he continued to stare gormlessly at Gwen through the raindrops.
"You may not need him Jack, but he needs you," Gwen uttered before she was splashing across the Plass towards the car park at the Red Dragon Shopping Centre where she'd left her car that morning. Jack watched her go, every gear in his brain whirring loudly, but not loud enough to drown out the deafening drumbeat of his heart in his throat.
Saturday 9th August 11.43pm
Ianto read the note on the fridge for the millionth time.
'Gone to Chris'. Just in case you come home anytime soon. Can't be alone right now. Sorry. Ria x'.
He could feel Jack hovering uncertainly behind him but he didn't have the energy to tell him to go or stay. One way or the other Ianto no longer had the energy to care.
"Maybe it's for the best," Jack said eventually, obviously referring to the note, making Ianto realise he didn't want to talk about it. He didn't want to talk about anything. He wanted to be doing something. He couldn't just sit about and wait for something to happen even though he knew he desperately needed sleep.
He didn't want to think anymore either and it wasn't his brain he was thinking with when he spun around in his kitchen, grabbing Jack by his braces and slamming him back into the fridge so it rocked ominously. Ianto didn't notice, was too preoccupied with the fact he had his tongue stuck down Jack's throat, one hand on his crotch as the other started un-tucking Jack's shirt from his trousers.
He was shocked when Jack's palms pressed flat against his chest, pushing him back so there was a reasonable distance between them.
"Ianto, I don't think that-" Jack started but Ianto was already forcing himself back upon Jack, fingers fumbling with Jack's shirt buttons as he tried to kiss him again. Jack's push was more forceful this time causing Ianto to stumble back slightly, grabbing onto the kitchen table for support.
"Ianto, this isn't you," Jack spoke calmly but forcefully. "Well it is you, but not now, not after everything." Jack stopped and took a deep breath before he looked back up at Ianto. He saw the pain and hurt reflecting back at him with a kind of despondent despair. Jack caved and moved to embrace Ianto in a hug but Ianto was side stepping him now, pushing Jack away from him.
"I don't want a pity shag," Ianto spat, moving round the kitchen table and leaving the kitchen. Jack heard the distinctive creak of floorboards as Ianto took the stairs two at a time before he heard Ianto's bedroom door slam. Jack let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding, a hand running down his face in frustration before he was turning round to face the fridge. He pulled Ria's note from the front of fridge, crumpling it up before throwing it into the bin by the back door. It left a child's drawing of a blue sheep in its wake, its orange eyes glaring out at him with a reproachfulness that made Jack uneasy. He tucked his shirt back into his trousers and re-did the buttons on it, smoothing down the fabric in a self-conscious manner.
He glanced up at the ceiling of the kitchen as he heard the distinct sound of something being broken. He worried his lip, unsure whether to go up and check Ianto was okay or wait until he'd cooled off a bit. His head warred with his heart for a long moment before he sat down at the kitchen table listening to Ianto's movements upstairs.
Sunday 10th August 2.50am
It was the early hours of the morning before Jack dared to venture upstairs. Ianto had been quiet for the best part of twenty minutes now and Jack thought he had maybe worn himself out and finally crawled into bed. He found a small glow coming from under Ianto's bedroom door, knocking cautiously before pushing it open.
Ianto was looking at him slightly wide eyed as if surprised to find Jack still here.
"Sorry about earlier," Ianto said quietly.
Jack shook his head in return, as if to say 'don't worry about it' before he sunk down onto the floor of the bedroom beside Ianto. He lent his back against the bed, his legs splaying slightly so that his right one lent against Ianto’s left one that was bent to his chest. Jack’s eyes roamed over the photo albums that were out of the floor in front of him.
He saw a picture of Gwen, Tosh, Ianto and Owen all huddled into a booth in a pub somewhere, clinging onto each other in a drunken happy haze of alcohol. One of Ianto’s arms was slung round Owen’s shoulders in a gesture of brotherly love that Jack would never have thought possible between Ianto and Owen - they had tolerated each other at best. Ianto’s other arm pulled Tosh into his side so her head fitted snugly in the curve of his neck in an almost protective gesture. Gwen was at his other shoulder, her arms round all of them in an open hug that suggested at the closeness of the small group. It must have been taken while Jack was away with the Doctor because he has no recollection of the night.
He noted another photo that he remembers well. Him and Finn lent against the railings when they went to Devil’s Bridge. Finn is giggling, as Jack’s fingers seem to dance over his ribs, even in the still photo. Jack is laughing heartily himself and the picture has a fuzzy quality like the person holding the camera is also laughing.
Another photo reveals a younger Ianto surrounded by his siblings in what is undoubtedly a posed family photo. Ianto looks grouchy, dressed in shorts and t-shirt as Rhiannon tries to use her fingers to manipulate a smile onto her little brother’s face. Ianto’s mother is lurking in the background with a reproachful look on her face while her youngest kids squabble; the older one’s looking on in silent antipathy.
Several other photos smile up at Jack from their 2D world, capturing moments both vividly remembered and instantly forgotten. Jack doesn’t say anything to break the unearthly silence that has fallen over the unspoken memories, a sob breaking the quiet as it evades Ianto’s defences. Jack reaches out an arm, placing it round the younger man’s shoulders and pulling him into his side.
Ianto’s knees flop to the side over Jack’s right thigh as he tucks himself round Jack’s side, sighing into Jack’s chest and breathing him in. Jack’s hand rubs unconsciously at Ianto’s back as his bare feet scuff the carpet in an attempt to get closer to Jack’s reassuring presence.
“We’ll find him, don’t worry,” Jack whispered into Ianto’s hair.
On to Part 5