Torchwood Fic: Past and Forever 1/6
What can I say? I fell hard for the Welshman. I apologize in advance for the fic!spam - this story is long, but it is also complete. All other info regarding the story is beneath the cut.
Title: Past and Forever
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Rating: Adult, for offscreen violence, bad language and non-graphic sex
Author's notes: Vaguely spoilerish for the entire series, up until the last two minutes of "Fragments". Blessings as always on the head of aithine for her fabulous contributions.
Disclaimer: These are not my characters.
This is a love story.
Past and Forever
Prologue
Plop.
That's what awoke him, the tinny, hollow sound of a drop of water, falling from somewhere above, hurtling into a puddle that sent forth a ripple of moisture to lap at his forehead. He had a moment to feel disgusted as his consciousness catalogued the familiar and oddly comforting odours of Torchwood's garage-disgust because he was quickly realizing that he was curled into a foetal position on its oil-stained floor, and he was cold.
The path from understanding to terror was short.
Pain cascaded through his body, pounding through his torso and spreading outward, manifesting differently in each portion of his body. It was too overwhelming to assess, too invasive to fight. Air that he tried to draw into his aching lungs was snatched from his mouth, and the futile clawing of his hands at his eyes gave no relief, since his fingers refused to uncurl, only managing to bat uselessly at his face in loose fists. Discomfort from the cold was rapidly giving way to a heart-stopping chill that only sharpened the agony and impeded any attempts to block it out.
First one breath, then two, then the fear slowly ebbed, giving way to a small measure of control as he concentrated on the calming reality that he was indeed in the garage. Knowing the Hub as he did meant knowing it intimately, from the sounds it made when everyone was gone-creaks and whistles, moans and sighs, like a rackety teapot-to the scent of every room. Tosh's perfume, Owen's fertilizer, Gwen's leftover coffee, every surface and the molecules of the air itself overlaid with the undeniable essence of Jack, he knew them all. He'd neatened the garage countless times and it was the rhythms and smells he found there now that he anchored his heart to, because that meant he was home.
He tried to call out and was unsurprised that he made no sound. His throat felt as though it'd been clawed apart, and the effort brought him perilously close to blacking out again. He didn't know why, but he knew that oblivion was not an acceptable course of action, and so he fought against the pain, concentrating instead on providing some kind of communication so that he could be found. Beyond everything else, he needed to be found, and quickly.
His body would not cooperate. The garage would be dark, but illuminated enough so that he would have been able to make out shapes or discern the difference between light and shadow. He knew that his eyes weren't closed because instead of the expected expanse of grey and black, he saw only shades of white, striations that varied from bright to almost yellow, passing horizontally within his vision. There was no light like that in the garage, and the raw torture feasting on his eyes and wringing stinging tears scared him more that the certainty that he was dying.
And really, he was just so very, very sorry. This wasn't the way he wanted to leave Torchwood, confused and resentful like a rebuked child. The problems and the yearnings and the disappointments, they were all on him. If he'd merely kept things to himself, if only he'd accepted events as they were bound to be, he knew he'd eventually end up back in Jack's bed, or maybe someone else's, someone not of Torchwood. But he'd grasped for more, that much he remembered, and somewhere his lack of judgement had brought him to this, his blood mingling with the oil, his breath freezing on his cheeks, and foetid water trickling into his ear.
He missed it at first. He'd drifted into semi-consciousness, his body convulsing gently as it fought the encroachment of its own death throes. A subtle screech, followed immediately by a loud clank, could only mean that someone was entering the garage. Irrational fear flooded through him, filling him with nerve-searing adrenaline.
Was he back?
He managed to plant one bare foot on the grimy floor and used it to push away, to where, he wasn't sure. A corner, beneath a workbench, anything to get away, to hide. He tried to muffle the moan that escaped anyway, and he froze, praying that he wouldn't be seen, even as his mind registered that he'd been left here, purposefully alone, waiting only to be found.
"Look, all I'm saying is, if he wants to take a vacation, then he should bloody well make sure that the supplies are stocked up! It's his fucking job, right?"
It was Owen, sounding aggrieved as always. Rapid footsteps hit the concrete floor, first one set, then another, lighter echo.
Relief made him light-headed. He heaved his body forward, trying to make any movement that would draw Owen's attention. I'm here! See me!
"He did," Gwen replied patiently. "It's not his fault we've been busier than usual and he did ask last week if we needed anything."
The footsteps stopped. "I know," Owen snapped, "but how was I supposed to know that we'd be chasing flesh-eating zombies for three days? And instead of killing them, Jack wants to rehabilitate them, but do we have enough raw meat on hand? No!"
"Well, they're gone now, so you can stop complaining. You just wanted to get out of work for awhile, admit it."
"Yeah, I'll admit it. Anything is better than putting up with that broody Heathcliff act. Do you think Jack's stopped pacing since Ianto left?"
Gwen's reply was obscured by the sound of the SUV door opening. Whatever it was made Owen laugh, and then the footsteps started again, coming closer. Another set of clipped noises and then the engine turned over. He began to panic, tears of frustration streaming from his burning eyes. They were going to leave him, he was going to die, and they'd all still be in danger. He was going to fail again.
Abruptly, the engine was cut off. He heard a door open and then the footsteps were back, so much faster, coming near. He screamed and screamed and screamed, and didn't make a sound.
"Holy Christ!"
"Oh, my God! Ianto!"
There was a scrape of frigid air across his skin and then Owen was beside him, poking two stiffened fingers into his neck.
"Oh, God, is he alive? Owen, tell me he's alive!"
Of course I am,, he thought fretfully, can't you see that? Didn't you hear me? Why can't I see you?
"Yeah, barely. Quick, hand me your jacket."
He was still trying to puzzle out why he couldn't see Owen when he felt slick fabric fall across his lower body. He had just enough time to think that someone's jacket was going to get soiled when another, softer material landed on his shoulders and over his chest. Although the warmth was welcome, even that light pressure on his body renewed the pain he'd managed to control, and this time when he opened his mouth to scream, there was a crushed noise, like the last breath of a dying animal.
Gentle hands brushed against his temple.
"Sssh, Ianto, you're okay, you'll be fine." Gwen's voice, soothing but trembly, distracting him from Owen's prodding.
"We're going to need the stretcher." Owen sounded angry. "Go upstairs and tell Tosh to clear off the bed."
"Got it."
"And for God's sake, find Jack." A firm hand rested on his shoulder, its comforting heat permeating his makeshift blanket. "Tell him to hurry."
~~
Somewhere between being lifted onto the stretcher and being placed on Owen's table, Ianto had fallen into unconsciousness. Coming back from that meant more pain, but he was also dry and warm, covered with a sheet that hid his nakedness. He gasped a couple of times, aware that he was jerking at needles and tubes attached to his skin, but the pull of life was undeniable. Everything hurt and the inside of his mouth was coated with blood so he coughed, hunching forward as he attempted to spew it out.
Hands landed on him, one on each shoulder, guiding him back onto the padded bed.
"Easy, Ianto, easy." Yes, Owen again, his tone more compassionate than Ianto had ever heard, at least directed toward him. "Lay still now, yeah?"
It was an unnecessary request. Ianto's breath had flown out of him on a wave of fresh agony. A moistened cloth was held to his lips and cool water trickled in. He swallowed carefully, letting the water wash through his mouth and down his throat, taking the blood with it.
The cloth was removed and a cool palm was placed against his forehead. It was Owen, leaning so close that Ianto could smell the pretentious aftershave he favoured.
"Ianto, can you hear me?"
Ianto forced open his eyelids and shuddered. The white bands were still there, the light from the overhead lamp piercing them and drilling into his head. He closed his eyes on a muffled scream, trying to pull his arm up to cover his face. Owen grabbed his wrist and guided it back to the bed before carefully peeling back one of Ianto's eyelids.
"Jesus. Gwen, quick, hand me that black towel. Yeah, that one. Give it here."
Relief came as Owen draped his eyes in the soft, dark towel, blocking out the light. And more relief followed it, as something that Owen was pumping into his arm finally began to take hold. The folding back of the body-swamping agony allowed him to feel the pain more locally as the combination of warmth and painkiller began to ease through his muscles.
There was the fussiness of movement all around him and he'd seen Owen work often enough to know that he was practically dancing around the diagnostic bed, hands flying, mind racing. He heard the occasional order and since he hadn't yet heard Tosh's voice, he knew those orders were directed at Gwen. That was confirmed when he felt another presence near the bed, and the brush of hair on his cheek.
"Ianto, you're going to be fine, d'you hear me?" The tears choking her voice made that a lie. "You just have to hang on, okay? I know it hurts, but Owen will make it better, you know he will."
He tried to nod and then opened his mouth, running his tongue along the cracked and swollen edges of his lips.
"Jack?"
It was no more than a sigh, but Gwen heard him.
"I reached him and he's on his way. Tosh is heading down to the garage to scan for evidence. Can you tell me what happened?"
"Gwen!" Owen snapped. "Not now!"
"Yes now, Owen! We don't know if we've been breached!" Ianto felt a fingertip trail down his cheek. "I'm so sorry, Ianto, but I have to know. Is there something down there?"
"N-no," he croaked. "S-safe."
Gwen's presence receded. "Tosh, you heard him. I'll join you as soon as I can but I'll stay to help Owen."
"No, go with Tosh. I'll stay with Ianto."
The air crackled as Jack spoke from above. Ianto followed the sound of his boots thumping down the staircase and then Jack was beside him, his hands burrowing beneath the towel to stroke the hair above Ianto's ears.
"Ianto," he whispered, "I'm here. It'll be okay, I promise."
He wanted to revel in Jack's closeness, to be drawn inside Jack's warmth and feel safe, but that comfort had been taken from him. He settled for attempting to smile, regretting it when he felt his lower lip crack and begin to ooze.
The fingers remained, but Jack's next words weren't directed at him. "How bad is it?"
The silence that followed told Ianto what he already knew, only Owen was too much of a doctor to say that his patient was dying where he could be heard by the patient himself. Whatever was there to see on Owen's face must have been eloquent enough, because Jack stiffened beside him.
"Unacceptable."
"Jack, I'm doing what I can, but I've not even begun to discover everything that was-"
"You heard me. Failure isn't an option here. Tell me what you need."
"Well, for starters, I need to find out who or what did this to him. I'm getting some very odd readings off his body, a trace of something alien that the computers can't pin down."
"What about his clothing? Did you get anything off of it?"
There was a brief pause. "He wasn't wearing any when we found him. He was covered with dirt, debris and mud, but no clothes."
Another silence, this one more ominous, and if Ianto had possessed the strength to blush, he would have turned as pink as his favourite dress shirt. The thought made him want to smile again, but the trickle of blood on his lip advised against it.
"Why are his eyes covered?"
"They've taken some...damage. The light seemed to hurt him."
Again, he felt Jack draw close. He'd been dreading this moment, knowing he'd have to face down Jack's implacable will, something he'd mastered only once, with devastating results. But Jack's touch was gentle as he pressed his lips to Ianto's, breathing lightly into Ianto's mouth.
"Tell me what happened," Jack whispered against his cheek. A spark of energy twitched deep in his belly, then flickered out.
"C-can't."
"Yes, you can." Jack's tone became firm. "Consider that an order."
"W-won't. S-sorry."
The fingers stroking his hair never faltered. "Why not? Can you tell me that much?"
"Ch-cheating," Ianto admonished him on a pain-choked sigh.
Jack lowered his voice. "I never play fair, you know that. And if you won't tell me, that means someone's threatened you."
He couldn't help the quiver that passed through his body and Jack seized upon the tiny movement.
"That's it, isn't it? You're protecting something again. Or someone. Who is it this time, Ianto?"
Ianto knew then that he was damned. Jack had caught on too quickly, before he'd had a chance to either die or erect enough of a wall to keep Jack guessing. But he was too weak, and so tired, and when he heard Jack sigh, he knew the game was up. All he had left was the secret he'd sworn to himself he'd keep, because even if Jack couldn't die, he could hurt. And Ianto knew all about how much hurt could be inflicted by one man.
"It's me." A statement of fact, tinged with anger. Ianto didn't move, afraid to even breathe as he prayed that Jack would formulate another guess. But it was a futile wish, as he knew it would be. "Tell me who did this to you. Let me protect myself."
Ianto almost replied, but checked himself. Jack was trying to trick him and he had just enough willpower to defy him one last time. He slowly rolled his head from side to side, too exhausted to say the words.
Jack removed his hands and Ianto immediately felt bereft from their absence.
"All right," Jack was saying above him, "we'll do this the hard way. How stable is he?"
"Stable? That's optimistic. He's holding his own, though. For now."
"Then leave us alone. And keep Toshiko and Gwen out of here, too."
Owen instantly protested. "I can't do that, Jack, you know that! It's touch and go as it is! Leaving him now-what if I've missed something, or-"
"You have missed something, but it's not your fault. Go on, get out of here. Turn up the heat and don't come back until I call you, but stay close."
"He needs to be sedated and prepped-"
"Owen. Just do it. Five minutes."
"Three."
"Done. Now move."
Still limited to only what he could hear to tell him what was going on, Ianto heard a clank and then Owen was gone, leaving Ianto puzzled. This was the last thing he'd expected. In fact, he was vaguely disappointed that Jack hadn't put up more of a fuss once he'd figured out as much as he had. He swallowed and gathered what little strength he had left, preparing to do battle in order to keep Jack safe.
"Rather not d-die with you m-mad at me."
"Oh, you're not going to get out of this that easily. You are going to heal up, get well, and then you and and I are going to have a very long and very private conversation. But until then-"
The sheet covering Ianto was swept away and he cried out, not from the pain that was receding ever further away, but from the sheer vulnerability of being naked on the table. Jack was beside him in a heartbeat, one broad hand flat on his sternum, the other caressing the top of his head.
"Shh, hey, you're okay, and it's not like I haven't seen the goods before, right? So just relax, it'll be warmer here in a minute."
"Wh-what are you going t-to d-do?"
"Well, if you won't tell me who did this to you, I'll just have to figure it out for myself. I'm going to look for what Owen can't see with his machines. You know I'm not going to hurt you, but it may become...uncomfortable. Would you like some water before I begin?"
"Y-yes," he breathed. With Jack supporting his head, this time it was a straw held to his mouth and he let it rest briefly on his lip before slowly pulling in the cool water. Too soon it was lifted away, and he grunted in displeasure as he was resettled against the thin pillow beneath him.
"That's enough," Jack murmured. "Too much will make you nauseous and you could throw it back up."
"R-right. That w-would b-be embarrassing."
He was rewarded with a quiet laugh and another brush of Jack's lips against his own. This time the spurt of energy was stronger, quickly fading but not entirely dying away. "Smart ass. Now, let's get this over with. First, were you raped? And don't bother lying, because you know I'll find out the truth eventually."
"N-no."
A moment passed, then gentle fingertips floated across his cheek. "Thank God."
Ianto's right hand was gathered up, his elbow bending to accommodate Jack's inspection. "Your fingers were broken. I have a couple of enemies who'd find breaking fingers enjoyable, even poetic."
There was an odd touch to the back of Ianto's throbbing wrist. Not a finger, exactly-
"Are y-you sn-sniffing m-me?"
"Yes. There's a nasty species in the Colonies that likes to contract its tentacles around the limbs of its victims, leaving behind the faint scent of onions. This work is too precise for that and besides, they're snot-breathers, they'd never survive here for long."
His hand was returned to the bed, as tenderly as a mother tucking in an infant. Jack's hands skimmed quickly down his thigh, ghosting over the scrapes and contusions, down one leg as he crossed the bottom of the bed and then up the other. His touch was delicate but clinical, his fingers coming to rest lightly on Ianto's abdomen.
"Your fingers are broken but your arms and legs are intact. You have contusions on all limbs and your chest, some pretty deep, probably from internal bleeding. There are multiple burn wounds from a round weapon of some kind, painful but not fatal by themselves. There are many species that have weapons like that, so I'll have Owen take a closer look. Now here, we have-well, here..."
Jack's voice faded away, and Ianto knew what Jack was seeing. "Jack-"
"No, let me finish." He heard Jack take another deep breath. "Strips of skin have been removed from your ribcage, and they...they...God, Ianto, this must hurt like hell."
"N-not so m-much n-now, sir."
He felt a tap on his nose. "I know you're pissed at me but enough with the sir business, okay? And stop being so damn brave."
"Then, yes, J-Jack, it hurts like f-fuck all."
He heard a low rumble of laughter. "That's better. Hang on."
Ianto waited, listening as Jack rummaged around on the tray that Owen kept nearby.
"Brace yourself, this is going to be cold."
And it was, but the soothing cream also began to douse the remains of the fire burning along his skin. The relief was welcome, because Ianto could also feel the edges of his body beginning to grow numb. If Jack was going to find his answer, then he'd best hurry.
"Better, right? Okay, now listen closely. I'm going to remove the towel from your eyes, but I'll do it slowly, so you can adjust." Jack pressed his mouth to Ianto's ear. "And I wouldn't do it at all if you'd just stop being so stubborn and tell me who attacked you."
From somewhere, Ianto dredged up a laugh. It sounded more like a whimper, but he trusted Jack to know the difference.
"S-sorry."
"No, you're not. Not even the tiniest bit. Are you warm enough?"
"Y-yeah."
"Good, 'cause I'm sweating like a pig here. Okay, here goes the towel. Are your eyes closed?"
"D-dunno."
"Right. I'm going to slide it upwards and cover my hand over your eyes just in case. Here we go."
The cloth drifted slowly upward and Ianto bit down on his abused lip, fighting back the panic that crawled up his throat. True to his word, Jack cupped his palm over Ianto's eyes as the towel was removed, but it was unnecessary. Ianto's eyes were closed, so all he perceived was an uncomfortable but manageable level of light. At Ianto's nod, Jack removed his hand to massage the skin around Ianto's cheeks and temples with his thumbs.
"Okay, Beautiful, now the hard part. I'm going to lift your left eyelid. The lights are dimmed and I'll do it quickly, so try and hold still. Almost done."
Rigid with fear, Ianto waited as Jack's fingers brushed across his eyelashes to tug carefully at the thin surface of his eyelid. It was tempting to try and tighten his muscles, but his trust in Jack was complete, and he forced himself to concentrate on the gentleness infused in Jack's every touch.
When his eye was exposed, he recoiled. Even lowered, the light from overhead seemed to slice through him to the table beneath him, but as his last act of defiance to his torturer he froze and let Jack have his look. It was over quickly and Ianto expected some kind of summation from Jack, or at least a supposition as to what had caused the strange white lines. But Jack was noticeably silent, his only communication with Ianto the palm of his hand on Ianto's cheek.
"Okay, all finished." When Jack spoke again, his voice was shaking, something Ianto didn't expect. "Let's get you covered."
The sheet was again draped over his body and the towel replaced. Ianto breathed as deeply as he could, relieved that whatever Jack had found, if he'd found anything useful, it was now out of Ianto's hands.
"Owen! Get back in here!"
The bellow startled Ianto and he jerked, to be gentled quickly by Jack's hands on his shoulders. Jack's muttered "shh, take it easy" was overlaid by the sound of running footsteps, followed by the displacement of air as not only Owen, but Gwen and Tosh came running into the room.
Jack removed one hand, keeping the other tucked beneath Ianto's jaw. "I know who did this. And I'm going after him. Damn it, I should've figured it out when I saw the cuts."
Three voices rose in protest, drowning out Ianto's ragged cry of denial.
"No," Jack continued, "listen to me, all of you. The man-the creature-who did this, I know him. He's dangerous and I should've put him down centuries from now. I won't make that same mistake twice."
Owen had moved around Jack and was already refocused on treating Ianto's injuries. He spoke to Jack from somewhere near Ianto's hip.
"How do you know who it was? And why is he doing this?"
"The white blindness is his calling card. He knew I'd recognize it and know it was him. As to why, that's between him and me."
"Pardon me, Jack," Gwen interrupted angrily, "but no, it isn't. He's attacked one of our own, that makes it everyone's business. Do you even know where to start looking?"
That was Ianto's final shred of hope, that without his cooperation, Jack would be at a loss to find his attacker. Then that hope was taken away as well. The bastard had been thorough.
"I do. He not only left me a greeting, he provided me with a map. A map he drew with Ianto's skin."
Toshiko spoke up, correcting Jack with a voice that was straining with the need to be right. "You mean, on his skin, right?"
Jack ignored her. "He's probably not far and until I settle this, all of you are at risk. I'm going alone and that's final."
"Bugger," Owen muttered, just as Ianto felt a sharp prick in his arm. "That's all we need, another one of your wives come to fetch you home."
"Jack," Gwen pleaded, "think about this. We're a team, no one acts alone. We protect each other."
"No." His voice hushed, Jack continued, "You're wrong. We're not just a team, we're a family. You're my family. And this family is under attack again because of me. What did you find in the garage?"
"The locks were intact," Tosh reported. "So whoever it was knew the codes. We found Ianto's rucksack in a corner-"
"His rucksack?" Jack sounded simultaneously surprised and angry.
"Y-yes." Tosh paused, then continued in a firmer voice. "It was still packed, including weapons and communications devices."
Details that had been buried beneath the pain began to resurface, and despite the warmth of the room and the relaxing drugs coursing through his system, Ianto began to shake. Whatever emotions Jack was feeling, there was nothing but tenderness communicated in his touch as he stroked his thumb over Ianto's lips.
"What the hell did he do to you," Ianto heard him whisper before the touch was withdrawn. Louder, Jack continued, "All right. Tosh, I want that rucksack up here immediately. You and Gwen start going through it while I start working on deciphering the map. Owen, I need pics of those slices on his body fed to my computer asap. The sooner I figure them out, the sooner I can get out of here."
"No, Jack!" Gwen, of course. Ianto heard a loud slap, like flesh hitting metal. "You can't go alone!"
"I told you, this is my fault!"
"Then let us help you!"
Owen and Tosh chimed in, backing Gwen up. Jack argued with them and the noise level rose until Ianto's head began to swim. From some reserve of strength, he managed to lift a battered hand and knock the towel from his face.
"S-stop!"
The other voices ceased and he could feel them gathering around the table. As someone picked up the towel and laid it across his eyes once more, he tried to speak, coughed, and tried again.
"T-trap."
"Of course it is." Jack's voice was calm. "But that doesn't change anything, because if you're ever going to see this handsome face again, I have to go after him. Owen can fix every injury you have except that one and I'll be damned if I'm going to let you live the rest of your life as a blind man."
"You mean he," Owen asked, "whoever he is, has a cure for the blindness?"
"Yes, an antidote. It's in his blood and I'm going to get it. Lots of it, if I'm successful."
"I'm going with you." That was Gwen and Ianto almost smiled, for once feeling fond of her utter predictability.
"No, you're not. I'm going alone and that's the end of it."
"Jack-"
"And don't any of you try and follow me, or do anything stupid while I'm gone. I need all of you here, and I need to know you're safe. Anything less would be a distraction, and there's too much at stake this time." There was a pause, and Ianto sensed that they were all shifting position. When Jack spoke again, he sounded much closer. "Owen, do whatever you have to do. You know what I mean. Tosh, Gwen, I may not need you in the field with me but I could sure use some tactical backup. Let's get out of Owen's way and I'll give you everything I've got on this guy. As for you-"
Ianto tensed, then relaxed as Jack kissed his forehead. "I expect you to behave while I'm gone and do what our nice doctor tells you. Because the sooner you get better, the sooner we can have that nice, long chat."
"L-looking f-forward to it."
Soft laughter bounced against his cheek. "Liar."
And Jack was gone, sweeping up Tosh and Gwen as he went. With Owen preoccupied with whatever he was going to do next-something distasteful but necessary, most likely-Ianto was alone.
Alone with his failure.
"Jack," Ianto whispered. "D-don't go."
Part Two
and thanks to miss_jaffacake for the iconlove!
Title: Past and Forever
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Rating: Adult, for offscreen violence, bad language and non-graphic sex
Author's notes: Vaguely spoilerish for the entire series, up until the last two minutes of "Fragments". Blessings as always on the head of aithine for her fabulous contributions.
Disclaimer: These are not my characters.
This is a love story.
Past and Forever
Prologue
Plop.
That's what awoke him, the tinny, hollow sound of a drop of water, falling from somewhere above, hurtling into a puddle that sent forth a ripple of moisture to lap at his forehead. He had a moment to feel disgusted as his consciousness catalogued the familiar and oddly comforting odours of Torchwood's garage-disgust because he was quickly realizing that he was curled into a foetal position on its oil-stained floor, and he was cold.
The path from understanding to terror was short.
Pain cascaded through his body, pounding through his torso and spreading outward, manifesting differently in each portion of his body. It was too overwhelming to assess, too invasive to fight. Air that he tried to draw into his aching lungs was snatched from his mouth, and the futile clawing of his hands at his eyes gave no relief, since his fingers refused to uncurl, only managing to bat uselessly at his face in loose fists. Discomfort from the cold was rapidly giving way to a heart-stopping chill that only sharpened the agony and impeded any attempts to block it out.
First one breath, then two, then the fear slowly ebbed, giving way to a small measure of control as he concentrated on the calming reality that he was indeed in the garage. Knowing the Hub as he did meant knowing it intimately, from the sounds it made when everyone was gone-creaks and whistles, moans and sighs, like a rackety teapot-to the scent of every room. Tosh's perfume, Owen's fertilizer, Gwen's leftover coffee, every surface and the molecules of the air itself overlaid with the undeniable essence of Jack, he knew them all. He'd neatened the garage countless times and it was the rhythms and smells he found there now that he anchored his heart to, because that meant he was home.
He tried to call out and was unsurprised that he made no sound. His throat felt as though it'd been clawed apart, and the effort brought him perilously close to blacking out again. He didn't know why, but he knew that oblivion was not an acceptable course of action, and so he fought against the pain, concentrating instead on providing some kind of communication so that he could be found. Beyond everything else, he needed to be found, and quickly.
His body would not cooperate. The garage would be dark, but illuminated enough so that he would have been able to make out shapes or discern the difference between light and shadow. He knew that his eyes weren't closed because instead of the expected expanse of grey and black, he saw only shades of white, striations that varied from bright to almost yellow, passing horizontally within his vision. There was no light like that in the garage, and the raw torture feasting on his eyes and wringing stinging tears scared him more that the certainty that he was dying.
And really, he was just so very, very sorry. This wasn't the way he wanted to leave Torchwood, confused and resentful like a rebuked child. The problems and the yearnings and the disappointments, they were all on him. If he'd merely kept things to himself, if only he'd accepted events as they were bound to be, he knew he'd eventually end up back in Jack's bed, or maybe someone else's, someone not of Torchwood. But he'd grasped for more, that much he remembered, and somewhere his lack of judgement had brought him to this, his blood mingling with the oil, his breath freezing on his cheeks, and foetid water trickling into his ear.
He missed it at first. He'd drifted into semi-consciousness, his body convulsing gently as it fought the encroachment of its own death throes. A subtle screech, followed immediately by a loud clank, could only mean that someone was entering the garage. Irrational fear flooded through him, filling him with nerve-searing adrenaline.
Was he back?
He managed to plant one bare foot on the grimy floor and used it to push away, to where, he wasn't sure. A corner, beneath a workbench, anything to get away, to hide. He tried to muffle the moan that escaped anyway, and he froze, praying that he wouldn't be seen, even as his mind registered that he'd been left here, purposefully alone, waiting only to be found.
"Look, all I'm saying is, if he wants to take a vacation, then he should bloody well make sure that the supplies are stocked up! It's his fucking job, right?"
It was Owen, sounding aggrieved as always. Rapid footsteps hit the concrete floor, first one set, then another, lighter echo.
Relief made him light-headed. He heaved his body forward, trying to make any movement that would draw Owen's attention. I'm here! See me!
"He did," Gwen replied patiently. "It's not his fault we've been busier than usual and he did ask last week if we needed anything."
The footsteps stopped. "I know," Owen snapped, "but how was I supposed to know that we'd be chasing flesh-eating zombies for three days? And instead of killing them, Jack wants to rehabilitate them, but do we have enough raw meat on hand? No!"
"Well, they're gone now, so you can stop complaining. You just wanted to get out of work for awhile, admit it."
"Yeah, I'll admit it. Anything is better than putting up with that broody Heathcliff act. Do you think Jack's stopped pacing since Ianto left?"
Gwen's reply was obscured by the sound of the SUV door opening. Whatever it was made Owen laugh, and then the footsteps started again, coming closer. Another set of clipped noises and then the engine turned over. He began to panic, tears of frustration streaming from his burning eyes. They were going to leave him, he was going to die, and they'd all still be in danger. He was going to fail again.
Abruptly, the engine was cut off. He heard a door open and then the footsteps were back, so much faster, coming near. He screamed and screamed and screamed, and didn't make a sound.
"Holy Christ!"
"Oh, my God! Ianto!"
There was a scrape of frigid air across his skin and then Owen was beside him, poking two stiffened fingers into his neck.
"Oh, God, is he alive? Owen, tell me he's alive!"
Of course I am,, he thought fretfully, can't you see that? Didn't you hear me? Why can't I see you?
"Yeah, barely. Quick, hand me your jacket."
He was still trying to puzzle out why he couldn't see Owen when he felt slick fabric fall across his lower body. He had just enough time to think that someone's jacket was going to get soiled when another, softer material landed on his shoulders and over his chest. Although the warmth was welcome, even that light pressure on his body renewed the pain he'd managed to control, and this time when he opened his mouth to scream, there was a crushed noise, like the last breath of a dying animal.
Gentle hands brushed against his temple.
"Sssh, Ianto, you're okay, you'll be fine." Gwen's voice, soothing but trembly, distracting him from Owen's prodding.
"We're going to need the stretcher." Owen sounded angry. "Go upstairs and tell Tosh to clear off the bed."
"Got it."
"And for God's sake, find Jack." A firm hand rested on his shoulder, its comforting heat permeating his makeshift blanket. "Tell him to hurry."
~~
Somewhere between being lifted onto the stretcher and being placed on Owen's table, Ianto had fallen into unconsciousness. Coming back from that meant more pain, but he was also dry and warm, covered with a sheet that hid his nakedness. He gasped a couple of times, aware that he was jerking at needles and tubes attached to his skin, but the pull of life was undeniable. Everything hurt and the inside of his mouth was coated with blood so he coughed, hunching forward as he attempted to spew it out.
Hands landed on him, one on each shoulder, guiding him back onto the padded bed.
"Easy, Ianto, easy." Yes, Owen again, his tone more compassionate than Ianto had ever heard, at least directed toward him. "Lay still now, yeah?"
It was an unnecessary request. Ianto's breath had flown out of him on a wave of fresh agony. A moistened cloth was held to his lips and cool water trickled in. He swallowed carefully, letting the water wash through his mouth and down his throat, taking the blood with it.
The cloth was removed and a cool palm was placed against his forehead. It was Owen, leaning so close that Ianto could smell the pretentious aftershave he favoured.
"Ianto, can you hear me?"
Ianto forced open his eyelids and shuddered. The white bands were still there, the light from the overhead lamp piercing them and drilling into his head. He closed his eyes on a muffled scream, trying to pull his arm up to cover his face. Owen grabbed his wrist and guided it back to the bed before carefully peeling back one of Ianto's eyelids.
"Jesus. Gwen, quick, hand me that black towel. Yeah, that one. Give it here."
Relief came as Owen draped his eyes in the soft, dark towel, blocking out the light. And more relief followed it, as something that Owen was pumping into his arm finally began to take hold. The folding back of the body-swamping agony allowed him to feel the pain more locally as the combination of warmth and painkiller began to ease through his muscles.
There was the fussiness of movement all around him and he'd seen Owen work often enough to know that he was practically dancing around the diagnostic bed, hands flying, mind racing. He heard the occasional order and since he hadn't yet heard Tosh's voice, he knew those orders were directed at Gwen. That was confirmed when he felt another presence near the bed, and the brush of hair on his cheek.
"Ianto, you're going to be fine, d'you hear me?" The tears choking her voice made that a lie. "You just have to hang on, okay? I know it hurts, but Owen will make it better, you know he will."
He tried to nod and then opened his mouth, running his tongue along the cracked and swollen edges of his lips.
"Jack?"
It was no more than a sigh, but Gwen heard him.
"I reached him and he's on his way. Tosh is heading down to the garage to scan for evidence. Can you tell me what happened?"
"Gwen!" Owen snapped. "Not now!"
"Yes now, Owen! We don't know if we've been breached!" Ianto felt a fingertip trail down his cheek. "I'm so sorry, Ianto, but I have to know. Is there something down there?"
"N-no," he croaked. "S-safe."
Gwen's presence receded. "Tosh, you heard him. I'll join you as soon as I can but I'll stay to help Owen."
"No, go with Tosh. I'll stay with Ianto."
The air crackled as Jack spoke from above. Ianto followed the sound of his boots thumping down the staircase and then Jack was beside him, his hands burrowing beneath the towel to stroke the hair above Ianto's ears.
"Ianto," he whispered, "I'm here. It'll be okay, I promise."
He wanted to revel in Jack's closeness, to be drawn inside Jack's warmth and feel safe, but that comfort had been taken from him. He settled for attempting to smile, regretting it when he felt his lower lip crack and begin to ooze.
The fingers remained, but Jack's next words weren't directed at him. "How bad is it?"
The silence that followed told Ianto what he already knew, only Owen was too much of a doctor to say that his patient was dying where he could be heard by the patient himself. Whatever was there to see on Owen's face must have been eloquent enough, because Jack stiffened beside him.
"Unacceptable."
"Jack, I'm doing what I can, but I've not even begun to discover everything that was-"
"You heard me. Failure isn't an option here. Tell me what you need."
"Well, for starters, I need to find out who or what did this to him. I'm getting some very odd readings off his body, a trace of something alien that the computers can't pin down."
"What about his clothing? Did you get anything off of it?"
There was a brief pause. "He wasn't wearing any when we found him. He was covered with dirt, debris and mud, but no clothes."
Another silence, this one more ominous, and if Ianto had possessed the strength to blush, he would have turned as pink as his favourite dress shirt. The thought made him want to smile again, but the trickle of blood on his lip advised against it.
"Why are his eyes covered?"
"They've taken some...damage. The light seemed to hurt him."
Again, he felt Jack draw close. He'd been dreading this moment, knowing he'd have to face down Jack's implacable will, something he'd mastered only once, with devastating results. But Jack's touch was gentle as he pressed his lips to Ianto's, breathing lightly into Ianto's mouth.
"Tell me what happened," Jack whispered against his cheek. A spark of energy twitched deep in his belly, then flickered out.
"C-can't."
"Yes, you can." Jack's tone became firm. "Consider that an order."
"W-won't. S-sorry."
The fingers stroking his hair never faltered. "Why not? Can you tell me that much?"
"Ch-cheating," Ianto admonished him on a pain-choked sigh.
Jack lowered his voice. "I never play fair, you know that. And if you won't tell me, that means someone's threatened you."
He couldn't help the quiver that passed through his body and Jack seized upon the tiny movement.
"That's it, isn't it? You're protecting something again. Or someone. Who is it this time, Ianto?"
Ianto knew then that he was damned. Jack had caught on too quickly, before he'd had a chance to either die or erect enough of a wall to keep Jack guessing. But he was too weak, and so tired, and when he heard Jack sigh, he knew the game was up. All he had left was the secret he'd sworn to himself he'd keep, because even if Jack couldn't die, he could hurt. And Ianto knew all about how much hurt could be inflicted by one man.
"It's me." A statement of fact, tinged with anger. Ianto didn't move, afraid to even breathe as he prayed that Jack would formulate another guess. But it was a futile wish, as he knew it would be. "Tell me who did this to you. Let me protect myself."
Ianto almost replied, but checked himself. Jack was trying to trick him and he had just enough willpower to defy him one last time. He slowly rolled his head from side to side, too exhausted to say the words.
Jack removed his hands and Ianto immediately felt bereft from their absence.
"All right," Jack was saying above him, "we'll do this the hard way. How stable is he?"
"Stable? That's optimistic. He's holding his own, though. For now."
"Then leave us alone. And keep Toshiko and Gwen out of here, too."
Owen instantly protested. "I can't do that, Jack, you know that! It's touch and go as it is! Leaving him now-what if I've missed something, or-"
"You have missed something, but it's not your fault. Go on, get out of here. Turn up the heat and don't come back until I call you, but stay close."
"He needs to be sedated and prepped-"
"Owen. Just do it. Five minutes."
"Three."
"Done. Now move."
Still limited to only what he could hear to tell him what was going on, Ianto heard a clank and then Owen was gone, leaving Ianto puzzled. This was the last thing he'd expected. In fact, he was vaguely disappointed that Jack hadn't put up more of a fuss once he'd figured out as much as he had. He swallowed and gathered what little strength he had left, preparing to do battle in order to keep Jack safe.
"Rather not d-die with you m-mad at me."
"Oh, you're not going to get out of this that easily. You are going to heal up, get well, and then you and and I are going to have a very long and very private conversation. But until then-"
The sheet covering Ianto was swept away and he cried out, not from the pain that was receding ever further away, but from the sheer vulnerability of being naked on the table. Jack was beside him in a heartbeat, one broad hand flat on his sternum, the other caressing the top of his head.
"Shh, hey, you're okay, and it's not like I haven't seen the goods before, right? So just relax, it'll be warmer here in a minute."
"Wh-what are you going t-to d-do?"
"Well, if you won't tell me who did this to you, I'll just have to figure it out for myself. I'm going to look for what Owen can't see with his machines. You know I'm not going to hurt you, but it may become...uncomfortable. Would you like some water before I begin?"
"Y-yes," he breathed. With Jack supporting his head, this time it was a straw held to his mouth and he let it rest briefly on his lip before slowly pulling in the cool water. Too soon it was lifted away, and he grunted in displeasure as he was resettled against the thin pillow beneath him.
"That's enough," Jack murmured. "Too much will make you nauseous and you could throw it back up."
"R-right. That w-would b-be embarrassing."
He was rewarded with a quiet laugh and another brush of Jack's lips against his own. This time the spurt of energy was stronger, quickly fading but not entirely dying away. "Smart ass. Now, let's get this over with. First, were you raped? And don't bother lying, because you know I'll find out the truth eventually."
"N-no."
A moment passed, then gentle fingertips floated across his cheek. "Thank God."
Ianto's right hand was gathered up, his elbow bending to accommodate Jack's inspection. "Your fingers were broken. I have a couple of enemies who'd find breaking fingers enjoyable, even poetic."
There was an odd touch to the back of Ianto's throbbing wrist. Not a finger, exactly-
"Are y-you sn-sniffing m-me?"
"Yes. There's a nasty species in the Colonies that likes to contract its tentacles around the limbs of its victims, leaving behind the faint scent of onions. This work is too precise for that and besides, they're snot-breathers, they'd never survive here for long."
His hand was returned to the bed, as tenderly as a mother tucking in an infant. Jack's hands skimmed quickly down his thigh, ghosting over the scrapes and contusions, down one leg as he crossed the bottom of the bed and then up the other. His touch was delicate but clinical, his fingers coming to rest lightly on Ianto's abdomen.
"Your fingers are broken but your arms and legs are intact. You have contusions on all limbs and your chest, some pretty deep, probably from internal bleeding. There are multiple burn wounds from a round weapon of some kind, painful but not fatal by themselves. There are many species that have weapons like that, so I'll have Owen take a closer look. Now here, we have-well, here..."
Jack's voice faded away, and Ianto knew what Jack was seeing. "Jack-"
"No, let me finish." He heard Jack take another deep breath. "Strips of skin have been removed from your ribcage, and they...they...God, Ianto, this must hurt like hell."
"N-not so m-much n-now, sir."
He felt a tap on his nose. "I know you're pissed at me but enough with the sir business, okay? And stop being so damn brave."
"Then, yes, J-Jack, it hurts like f-fuck all."
He heard a low rumble of laughter. "That's better. Hang on."
Ianto waited, listening as Jack rummaged around on the tray that Owen kept nearby.
"Brace yourself, this is going to be cold."
And it was, but the soothing cream also began to douse the remains of the fire burning along his skin. The relief was welcome, because Ianto could also feel the edges of his body beginning to grow numb. If Jack was going to find his answer, then he'd best hurry.
"Better, right? Okay, now listen closely. I'm going to remove the towel from your eyes, but I'll do it slowly, so you can adjust." Jack pressed his mouth to Ianto's ear. "And I wouldn't do it at all if you'd just stop being so stubborn and tell me who attacked you."
From somewhere, Ianto dredged up a laugh. It sounded more like a whimper, but he trusted Jack to know the difference.
"S-sorry."
"No, you're not. Not even the tiniest bit. Are you warm enough?"
"Y-yeah."
"Good, 'cause I'm sweating like a pig here. Okay, here goes the towel. Are your eyes closed?"
"D-dunno."
"Right. I'm going to slide it upwards and cover my hand over your eyes just in case. Here we go."
The cloth drifted slowly upward and Ianto bit down on his abused lip, fighting back the panic that crawled up his throat. True to his word, Jack cupped his palm over Ianto's eyes as the towel was removed, but it was unnecessary. Ianto's eyes were closed, so all he perceived was an uncomfortable but manageable level of light. At Ianto's nod, Jack removed his hand to massage the skin around Ianto's cheeks and temples with his thumbs.
"Okay, Beautiful, now the hard part. I'm going to lift your left eyelid. The lights are dimmed and I'll do it quickly, so try and hold still. Almost done."
Rigid with fear, Ianto waited as Jack's fingers brushed across his eyelashes to tug carefully at the thin surface of his eyelid. It was tempting to try and tighten his muscles, but his trust in Jack was complete, and he forced himself to concentrate on the gentleness infused in Jack's every touch.
When his eye was exposed, he recoiled. Even lowered, the light from overhead seemed to slice through him to the table beneath him, but as his last act of defiance to his torturer he froze and let Jack have his look. It was over quickly and Ianto expected some kind of summation from Jack, or at least a supposition as to what had caused the strange white lines. But Jack was noticeably silent, his only communication with Ianto the palm of his hand on Ianto's cheek.
"Okay, all finished." When Jack spoke again, his voice was shaking, something Ianto didn't expect. "Let's get you covered."
The sheet was again draped over his body and the towel replaced. Ianto breathed as deeply as he could, relieved that whatever Jack had found, if he'd found anything useful, it was now out of Ianto's hands.
"Owen! Get back in here!"
The bellow startled Ianto and he jerked, to be gentled quickly by Jack's hands on his shoulders. Jack's muttered "shh, take it easy" was overlaid by the sound of running footsteps, followed by the displacement of air as not only Owen, but Gwen and Tosh came running into the room.
Jack removed one hand, keeping the other tucked beneath Ianto's jaw. "I know who did this. And I'm going after him. Damn it, I should've figured it out when I saw the cuts."
Three voices rose in protest, drowning out Ianto's ragged cry of denial.
"No," Jack continued, "listen to me, all of you. The man-the creature-who did this, I know him. He's dangerous and I should've put him down centuries from now. I won't make that same mistake twice."
Owen had moved around Jack and was already refocused on treating Ianto's injuries. He spoke to Jack from somewhere near Ianto's hip.
"How do you know who it was? And why is he doing this?"
"The white blindness is his calling card. He knew I'd recognize it and know it was him. As to why, that's between him and me."
"Pardon me, Jack," Gwen interrupted angrily, "but no, it isn't. He's attacked one of our own, that makes it everyone's business. Do you even know where to start looking?"
That was Ianto's final shred of hope, that without his cooperation, Jack would be at a loss to find his attacker. Then that hope was taken away as well. The bastard had been thorough.
"I do. He not only left me a greeting, he provided me with a map. A map he drew with Ianto's skin."
Toshiko spoke up, correcting Jack with a voice that was straining with the need to be right. "You mean, on his skin, right?"
Jack ignored her. "He's probably not far and until I settle this, all of you are at risk. I'm going alone and that's final."
"Bugger," Owen muttered, just as Ianto felt a sharp prick in his arm. "That's all we need, another one of your wives come to fetch you home."
"Jack," Gwen pleaded, "think about this. We're a team, no one acts alone. We protect each other."
"No." His voice hushed, Jack continued, "You're wrong. We're not just a team, we're a family. You're my family. And this family is under attack again because of me. What did you find in the garage?"
"The locks were intact," Tosh reported. "So whoever it was knew the codes. We found Ianto's rucksack in a corner-"
"His rucksack?" Jack sounded simultaneously surprised and angry.
"Y-yes." Tosh paused, then continued in a firmer voice. "It was still packed, including weapons and communications devices."
Details that had been buried beneath the pain began to resurface, and despite the warmth of the room and the relaxing drugs coursing through his system, Ianto began to shake. Whatever emotions Jack was feeling, there was nothing but tenderness communicated in his touch as he stroked his thumb over Ianto's lips.
"What the hell did he do to you," Ianto heard him whisper before the touch was withdrawn. Louder, Jack continued, "All right. Tosh, I want that rucksack up here immediately. You and Gwen start going through it while I start working on deciphering the map. Owen, I need pics of those slices on his body fed to my computer asap. The sooner I figure them out, the sooner I can get out of here."
"No, Jack!" Gwen, of course. Ianto heard a loud slap, like flesh hitting metal. "You can't go alone!"
"I told you, this is my fault!"
"Then let us help you!"
Owen and Tosh chimed in, backing Gwen up. Jack argued with them and the noise level rose until Ianto's head began to swim. From some reserve of strength, he managed to lift a battered hand and knock the towel from his face.
"S-stop!"
The other voices ceased and he could feel them gathering around the table. As someone picked up the towel and laid it across his eyes once more, he tried to speak, coughed, and tried again.
"T-trap."
"Of course it is." Jack's voice was calm. "But that doesn't change anything, because if you're ever going to see this handsome face again, I have to go after him. Owen can fix every injury you have except that one and I'll be damned if I'm going to let you live the rest of your life as a blind man."
"You mean he," Owen asked, "whoever he is, has a cure for the blindness?"
"Yes, an antidote. It's in his blood and I'm going to get it. Lots of it, if I'm successful."
"I'm going with you." That was Gwen and Ianto almost smiled, for once feeling fond of her utter predictability.
"No, you're not. I'm going alone and that's the end of it."
"Jack-"
"And don't any of you try and follow me, or do anything stupid while I'm gone. I need all of you here, and I need to know you're safe. Anything less would be a distraction, and there's too much at stake this time." There was a pause, and Ianto sensed that they were all shifting position. When Jack spoke again, he sounded much closer. "Owen, do whatever you have to do. You know what I mean. Tosh, Gwen, I may not need you in the field with me but I could sure use some tactical backup. Let's get out of Owen's way and I'll give you everything I've got on this guy. As for you-"
Ianto tensed, then relaxed as Jack kissed his forehead. "I expect you to behave while I'm gone and do what our nice doctor tells you. Because the sooner you get better, the sooner we can have that nice, long chat."
"L-looking f-forward to it."
Soft laughter bounced against his cheek. "Liar."
And Jack was gone, sweeping up Tosh and Gwen as he went. With Owen preoccupied with whatever he was going to do next-something distasteful but necessary, most likely-Ianto was alone.
Alone with his failure.
"Jack," Ianto whispered. "D-don't go."
Part Two
and thanks to miss_jaffacake for the iconlove!