The Fountain Watch (4/5)
Title: The Fountain Watch
Author:
winter_rose91
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Timey Wimey
Characters/Pairings: Ianto Jack/Ianto
Summary: The Fountain Watch is a beautiful and ornate piece. But as Ianto Jones is soon to discover, it is also extremely dangerous.
Many thanks to verasteine for the brilliant beta-ing! All mistakes are mine!
(Chapter 3)
(Chapter 1)
Chapter 4: Watch the Fountain
An urgent bleeping bought Ianto back to his senses. It grew quicker.
"What is it?" Gwen's voice said, echoing inside his skull.
"Huge spike just now at Anghyswllt Tŷ," Jack's voice replied. "We better get on it."
"What about Ianto?" Gwen said.
"He'll be fine here," Jack reassured her. "He will, place is full of cute doctors, he'll have a great time." Ianto heard the door open and shut quickly - and then he felt Jack's lips brush across his forehead, mumbling something indistinct. It was the fleetingist of touches - and then Jack was gone. Ianto opened his eyes slightly. The light hurt him. He sat up, his head swam, his brain caught up with his senses. Jack and Gwen had gone to Anghyswllt Tŷ...
... a sudden image of a crumbling building ... bodies falling to the floor ... the fountain watch burning...
He scrambled out of the bed, his legs shaking. His suit was folded over one of the seats. He fumbled in his waistcoat pocket and pulled out the watch. It was warm in his hand and glowing brightly. He watched knowing what he had to do. He had to get to Anghyswllt Tŷ before it was too late.
He had to save Jack and Gwen.
With trembling fingers Ianto unbuttoned his hospital gown and started to change into his suit. He stepped into his trousers, lost balance, and landed with a thud on the cold hard floor. Wriggling into them, he screwed his eyes shut in an attempt to stop the room spinning. His arms still felt like lead, with tremendous effort, he managed to heave himself upright using the bed as support. He groped for his shirt, and it took him several attempts to get his arms in the sleeves. His fingers wouldn't stop shaking so he left his shirt buttons undone and settled for leaving it open. Ianto struggled into his jacket with a frustrated groan.
Ianto stepped out of the room, making sure that the fountain watch was secure in his trouser pocket. His vision was blurry, the walls, the floor, even his own hands seemed impossibly far away to him. He left the hospital, trying to blend in as much as possible, and willing himself to stop shaking. He shuffled into the car park and waited for what seemed like an eternity for a taxi to show up. It took him several attempts and all his remaining strength to open the car door. He staggered into the overheated taxi. The driver looked at him in the mirror worriedly.
"You alright, mate?"
"Fine," he said trying to keep the tremor out of his voice. "Anghyswllt Tŷ.”
“Sorry mate, where is that?” Ianto stared at the driver in disbelief. Weren't taxi drivers supposed to know where everything was? Did he really have to do everything himself? He rolled his eyes and gave the driver directions. As they left the hospital, he twisted the watch around in his fingers; it grew hotter with each passing moment. He stared out the window and his ghostly reflection stared right back.
When they finally reached the house, Ianto threw his fare at the driver and told him to keep the change. He fumbled with the handle for a few moments before the door gratefully swung open and Ianto staggered out. As the taxi pulled away, he looked around, the sky was an unrelenting iron grey, the SUV was parked outside the house, looking sleek and conspicuous. He was finding it hard to focus but he could just make out Jack standing by the fountain, gun out, his coat flapping around his ankles in a manner Ianto knew Jack thought made him look impressive. Gwen was standing there too, looking blurry around the edges.
The world started to spin around him, and nausea was building in his stomach. He had to get to Jack, shakily he started to run. His legs felt like lead and with every step his head throbbed painfully. His stomach lurched as he failed to run in a straight line, spraying gravel over the overgrown grass. Ianto wheezed heavily, his breath searing through his lungs. Jack span around at this noise.
"What the hell are you doing here, Ianto?" he growled.
"I had to come..." Ianto panted, reaching Jack and Gwen.
Jack opened his mouth to argue, but a large shudder suddenly rippled across the ground. Ianto could only watch in horror as a few loose pieces of brick were dislodged from the house and came raining down on their heads. A sudden pressure on the back of his neck forced him down to the ground. The shuddering stopped.
Ianto looked up, Jack had pulled both Ianto and Gwen to the ground. In front of him Gwen lay perfectly still. She had a large gash in her forehead, blood seeping slowly across her skin. Ianto scrambled to her, ignoring the gravel cutting into his palms. His fingers trembled as he searched for a pulse, seconds dragging by before he felt a faint but definite beat. He heaved a sigh of relief. He turned to look at Jack who was tapping away at his wrist strap. Their eyes met. His expression was anxious.
"She's alive," Ianto said, his voice as rough as the ground below him.
"She better be," Jack growled, bending down to check Gwen's pulse for himself. Once he was satisfied he hooked his hand around Ianto's arm and hauled him up. Ianto swayed again, finding it difficult to focus.
Some of stone work was hanging precariously off the walls. He took a shaky step back. He had little desire to be in another exploded building. "What happened?"
"Dunno, funny rift read outs. I can't make out what they mean, though." Jack said, his voice reverberating inside Ianto’s head.
A crippling pang shot through Ianto's stomach, throbbing nastily. He doubled over, staggering to lean on the fountain. He heard a howling rush in his ears, an ominous cracking... The watch burnt through his pocket, he pulled it out. It was glowing brightly; golden light was spiralling in tendrils, looping around his limbs, pinning him down. Light suddenly burst through everything, suffocating him to the point of oblivion. Jack was just out of reach, shouting words Ianto couldn't hear, his hair whipping around his beautiful face.
And that was the last thing Ianto Jones saw.
1891
He burst through the door to Anghyswllt Tŷ, the grand staircase loomed in front him. Mrs Davies was dusting one of shelves she looked up startled.
"Idris, what on earth are you-" she exclaimed.
"Idris?" he echoed, staring at her.
"Yes," Mrs Davies replied, "have you forgotten again? It's Idris Jones." She looked slightly worried.
"Jones?" he said. Jones.
"Are you alright?" Mrs Davies made as if to move towards him. He took a hasty step back.
"I'm fine, Mrs Davies."
"Then why are you covered in blood?"
He looked down. Large stains had dried on his shirt, and, he realised with a sickening jolt, had become stuck beneath his fingernails. He tried to rub it off.
"I'll explain once I've got changed, Mrs Davies," he said quickly. He wanted to get to his room - he needed to clear his head.
Mrs Davies considered him for a moment before giving him a small shrug. As he raced up the stairs, he swore he heard her mutter "Lisa". He had had Lisa's blood on his hands too. His eyes suddenly burnt with tears; he tore into the bedroom and wrenched up the floorboards. Stripping even quicker than he usually did, he wrenched off his clothes and pulled on his suit. It fitted like a glove; he gratefully looped the tie around his shirt and adjusted it so that it sat neatly beneath his neck. He pulled out his stopwatch from his pocket and turned it over in his fingers. It was just out of reach; the answer was just out of reach.
Who was he? He wasn't Idris Jones, for God's sake.
How many times, Ianto? Don't use the Lord's name in vain!
He heard his Dad's voice as clearly as though he'd been standing right next to him. But that was impossible; he'd died in 2002. 2002?
He'd moved to London after Dad died. Met Lisa. ohgodlisa. His Lisa, her smile, her perfume - her laugh...
He sank onto the bed, memories slamming back into place.
A sudden noise from outside snapped him out of his reverie. He rushed to the window, where he saw a slightly battered looking coach had pulled up and an angry young man gesturing at a harried looking Mrs Davies. He was wearing a grey frockcoat and trousers that were ridiculously high. It was an odd look. Grabbing the Fountain Watch, he quickly went downstairs to see what the fuss was about.
"Idris!" cried Mrs Davies as soon as he stepped out the door. She looked like she was about to say something but caught herself when she saw him. "What are you wearing?"
Ignoring her, he looked across to the young man standing there. He had a slightly haunted look about him, shadows lurking beneath his eyes, and his hair was prematurely grey. He recognised the man.
"Who are you?" Ianto asked the man curiously, ignoring the fact that he was striding purposefully over to him.
"That's a question I could ask you," the young man bristled. "Along with, what are you doing in my house?"
He had heard those words before.
This was the man who had appeared when he and Jack had been investigating the house.
Jack.
Jack who couldn’t die. Jack who he had left in cold dark alley in Cardiff.
The rush of memories threatened to overwhelm him; he remembered everything, his job interview at London - he thought they were talking about immigrants when they said aliens - his less conventional interview at Cardiff - he'd wanted to sell all his James Bond DVDs on ebay - Owen, Tosh, Suzie, Gwen, he remembered them all. He remembered picking up the Fountain Watch. He remembered how he got here.
"D'you live here?" Ianto asked the man who was now nose to nose with him.
"Yes. I'm Idris Jones. I got a letter saying my father had died so I've come back to Cardiff."
"Is that the only reason you've come back?" he asked shrewdly, remembering what Miss Guppy had said about Idris working for them in London. "Or would it something to do with Misses Guppy and Holroyd?" Ianto coughed, Idris's features became blurry, his eyebrows crossing together to form one great monobrow. The shadows beneath Idris's eyes became more pronounced.
"Who are you?" The indignation from before was gone, replaced by a frightened curiosity.
"Good question," he said more to himself than to Idris. He changed the subject at a speed of which Jack would have been proud. "None of this makes sense right now, but you're going to have to trust me." At this, the fountain watch suddenly burnt in his trouser pocket, making his head to throb painfully and persistently. He squirmed.
"Trust you?" Idris said, flaring up again. "She," he said throwing his arm in Mrs Davies direction, "says you've been living in my house for three months!" Ianto became somewhat distracted by the incessant burning in his pocket and pounding in his head. " ...my name? My possessions? You expect me to trust you? You're not even listening!"
"Idris! Tell me what's going on!" Mrs Davies demanded, her voice echoing in Ianto's skull. Both men turned to her. Before either of them had a chance to offer any kind of explanation, the ground starting shaking.
Golden light burst forth from the fountain, water started to slap around in the basin.
"Get behind me!" he yelled, Torchwood training taking over as he pulled Idris out of the way. He caught a brief look of surprise on Idris's face and heard Mrs Davies' faint cry then he knew what he had to do. Unconsciously, he straightened his tie.
Clutching the now scorchingly hot watch, he took a deep breath and flung himself into the fountain. Golden light dominated his vision, blinding him to all other sights. He could hear a distant roar.
And that was the last thing that Ianto Jones heard.
Chapter 5