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Published : 1 year, 2 months ago (Sat, 12 Apr 2008 15:08:36 PDT)
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Title: Echoes of the Past (1/?)
Pairings: As canon – mainly Jack/Ianto
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Angst/Drama – but with bits of everything really
Spoilers: None really – set in early S2, pre-2x06, although some vague ones for 2x12.
Summary: Ianto is kidnapped and Jack will stop at nothing to save him from a captor he knows all too well.
Warnings: Violence.
Disclaimer: The characters are the property of the BBC and Torchwood and are not mine.
For ![[info]](http://stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) scripteens who requested this. Thanks for the beta go to b_c_draygon and anyone else who looked at this.
Chapter 1
Jack stretched, his arm falling casually across Ianto’s shoulders. The chill of the archive cabinet against his back was quickly dispelling the layer of sweat that covered his body, but it didn’t bother him. He had, after all, better things to be thinking about – like the rift’s unusually quiet behaviour and, more importantly, what to do next to Ianto Jones. As if reading his mind, Ianto glanced over.
“You know, this archiving is going to take me even longer now. I’m going to be exhausted when it’s done.” He smirked and made a move to stand.
Jack had anticipated this and before Ianto could move he turned to pin the Welshman against the cabinets. He pouted, “Are you saying that you’d rather spend time with a bunch of old files than with me?”
He leant over, pressing his lips to Ianto’s in an effort to convince the Welshman that the rest of the evening could be spent in better ways than filing. Ianto’s lips parted immediately, letting Jack’s tongue slip between them, his hands flying upwards to tangle in Jack’s hair and prevent him from moving away. When Ianto’s hand slid down Jack’s back and over his arse, the captain felt himself harden. He moved his lips to the Welshman’s ear.
“You aren’t complaining about the archiving now, are you, Ianto Jones,” he whispered, flicking his tongue around the shell of Ianto’s ear.
Ianto opened his mouth to answer but any words were silenced by the rift alarm. Jack met Ianto’s gaze with a resigned sigh.
“The rift has such perfect timing,” he muttered, pushing himself up and turning to search for his clothes.
***
“All right, what’ve we got?” Jack called, stepping into the hub whilst still doing up his belt. Ianto followed close behind, shirt slightly rumpled from their recent activities.
“It’s reporting rift activity at a building site about ten minutes from here,” Toshiko told him, not looking up from her monitors. “Some sort of alien. I think it’ll need all of us.”
Jack, peering over her shoulder, nodded his agreement. “Ianto, do me a favour and find my coat.”
He glanced back at the Welshman, flashing him an apologetic smile before turning back to a CCTV image of the building site on the monitors. Whatever had triggered the rift alarm wasn’t to be seen, but the damage it had caused was proof enough that it was indeed big.
Jack barked out instructions as Ianto helped him into his coat and passed him his gun. “I want everyone on this one; we don’t know what we’re dealing with here but I just want a quick containment and then back to the hub.”
Confident his team was ready, he led them out of the Hub. Less than ten minutes later, the SUV screeched to a halt outside the building site. It had been locked up for the night some time ago but whatever it was they were hunting had simply smashed a hole in the metal fencing and slaughtered the unfortunate night watchman who had gone to investigate the noise.
“Careful, this place is a death trap even without an alien making its home here. Spread out, don’t make any sudden movements,” Jack cautioned the team, already scanning the area for the creature.
Keeping one eye out for the creature and the other on the rest of his team, Jack moved to the right, ducking behind a low wall as he headed to the rear of the site. The area was silent except for the small noises made by the team, but some primal instinct told Jack that they were not the only ones in the building site.
“Come on, show yourself,” he muttered, pulling out his gun and glancing around once more.
Then, out of the corner of his eye, Jack saw Ianto move, sprinting across the site towards a pile of pipes. Swearing, the Captain broke cover himself, determined to get to the Welshman before anything else did. As he neared the pipes he realised what had caused Ianto’s actions: a teenage boy was huddled behind the pipes, oblivious to the alien that lurked behind him. Jack had to stifle a shout as Ianto moved to shield the boy’s body with his own, startling the alien into lashing out with a clawed hand...
Ianto cried out as pain shot through his arm. In the moments immediately following the attack he was certain he would die, then he heard gun shots and a voice – Jack – calling his name, telling him to get back to the SUV. He leapt up, hurrying across the site, pulling the boy along with him. Hoping that the alien would be distracted enough by Jack and the others not to notice their retreat.
It wasn’t until they had reached the SUV that Ianto got a good look at the boy. He was scrawny, about fifteen, Ianto guessed, although he could have been younger. Straggly blond hair fell to his shoulders and he stared up at Ianto with blue eyes that had seen far too much for a boy his age. His clothing was ripped and dirty, and Ianto guessed the boy hadn’t slept in a proper bed for some weeks.
“You O.K?” he asked, trying to ignore the pain from his own shoulder. The boy didn’t look hurt, but Ianto wasn’t entirely sure he was convinced by his small nod. He decided not to press the issue, instead motioning for the boy to stay where he was and rummaging in the SUV’s glove compartment for the dark chocolate he had been intending to give Myfanwy. He handed it to the boy, who attacked it ravenously glancing up between mouthfuls to mutter a ‘Thanks, mate’.
The chocolate was gone in a matter of mouthfuls. Ianto smiled. “Ianto Jones, and you are?”
The boy stared him before Ianto recognised the defensive look on his face, adding, “Don’t worry, we aren’t the police.”
The boy studied him for a minute longer before answering. “Ifan,” he replied. He glanced over his shoulder at the building site. “Who are you then, if not the police?”
“We deal with the things the police can’t handle,” Ianto explained before changing the subject. “I don’t suppose you’re going to tell me why you aren’t at home? Your parents must be worried.”
“I doubt it; they threw me out in the first place,” Ifan frowned, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets as he turned to leave. “Why do you care anyway? You’re just like the rest of them.”
Ianto grabbed his shoulder before he could move, turning him to face him. “I understand, believe it or not. I ran away from home once. I lasted two nights before I decided that the point I was trying to prove really wasn’t worth the sacrifice of a warm bed and coffee.”
Ifan didn’t answer, continuing to stare at the ground.
“Look, is the situation with your parents really so bad that you can’t go back home?” Ianto frowned; he couldn’t help but feel sympathy for the boy.
Ifan nodded glumly. “My dad said he’ll kill me if I ever try to go back home – I don’t want to know if he were telling the truth or not.”
Ianto frowned and rummaged in his pocket eventually producing a pen and scrap of paper. Scribbling his mobile number down he passed it to Ifan and smiled. “I’m not much help at the moment, but if you ever need anything, phone me and I’ll do my best.”
Ifan took the paper hesitantly and shoved it in his pocket. Ianto wondered if he’d even remember about it later on. Ifan looked as if he were about to say something for a moment but dismissed it as Jack appeared from the building site.
“Ianto!”
Ianto smiled as Jack strode ahead of the team to meet him, leaving Owen, Toshiko and Gwen to carry the alien’s corpse between them. Jack pressed the briefest of kisses to his forehead when he caught up with him, before turning to his injured arm. “It doesn’t look too bad, but Owen can have a look at it when we get back.”
“Its fine, Sir,” Ianto replied. It was a lie, but Jack didn’t seem to notice or even hear, having already returned to help the team. With a sigh, Ianto turned to look for Ifan, but the boy had slipped away unnoticed. Deciding there was nothing he could do about that now, Ianto hurried to help the rest of the team with the alien.
***
“I’m fine!” Ianto tried to insist as he was ushered towards the medical bay. The team’s doctor had insisted on looking at his arm as soon as they had arrived in the hub.
Owen raised an eyebrow. “Ianto, I can put you back in the SUV and take you to the hospital if you’d prefer – but you’re getting that arm looked at.”
For a moment Ianto looked like he was going to argue, but clearly thought better of it, stripping off his jacket and shirt. He glanced over at Owen. “Just decide there’s nothing wrong with me so we can all go back to work.”
Owen rolled his eyes as he studied Ianto’s arm. “I think you’re forgetting that this is my work, teaboy.”
“You’re going to need stitches,” he informed Ianto after a few moments. “Jack said it wasn’t toxic, so you shouldn’t break out in spots or grow horns overnight.”
Ianto gave him a bemused look.
“I suppose that’s good news, then,” he replied as Owen began to stitch the wounds, a look of complete concentration on his face as worked.
After a few more minutes, Owen stepped back. “Right, they should heal on their own, try to avoid any strenuous activity over the next few days.” He frowned suddenly. “I mean it, tell Harkness – I don’t want these opening up again because he can’t keep it in his pants.”
“I’ll be on my best behaviour,” Jack said, strolling into the medical bay. “Once you’re done here, Ianto, I want to see you in my office. Owen, you can start work on that body. I want to know what it is and where it came from.”
He left as quickly as he’d appeared, without even as much as a question as to Ianto’s wellbeing.
It was Owen who broke the silence left in the wake of Jack’s departure. “You’re done here; best go see what Harkness wants.”
He gave Ianto a sympathetic smile as he left the medical bay to find the alien.
Although he would never have admitted it to anyone, Ianto was hurt by Jack’s lack of concern. Admitting to that would mean admitting the fact that he wanted more from Jack than he would ever get and he never wanted Jack to know that their relationship was anything more than sex to him – although he suspected that much was obvious every time he so much as looked at the captain.
***
Less than ten minutes later, Ianto stepped into Jack’s office.
“You wanted to see me, Sir?” he asked, taking the seat opposite Jack. The captain looked up at him, setting the piece of alien technology he had been holding aside. Ianto recognised it as a piece they had found a week ago that even Tosh hadn’t been able to make sense of. Jack clearly wasn’t having any luck with it either.
Jack rested his chin atop his hands and watched Ianto for several moments before speaking. “You’re an idiot, Ianto Jones. A very brave idiot, I’ll give you that, but an idiot nonetheless.”
“Excuse me?”
“At the site, you just ran out there without any thought to your own safety or that of anyone else!” Jack frowned, his voice softening before he continued. “You could have been killed, Ianto. Didn’t you even think about that?”
Ianto shook his head in disbelief. “I was under the impression we were here to help people – that boy would have been killed if I hadn’t done anything.”
Jack sighed and rose, staring across the hub at the rest of his team. Ianto was right of course, but the truth was that, when he had seen Ianto place himself in danger, Jack had been terrified. He would never tell Ianto that; it could only lead to other admissions, and Jack wasn’t even prepared to think about the strength of his emotions for Ianto, let alone give them voice.
“Jack, I didn’t have a choice.” Ianto stepped up beside Jack, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“Yes, you did,” Jack replied. “You could have let him die, but that never even occurred to you, did it? You put everyone else before yourself, even if it costs you your life.”
“I hardly think that is a bad thing.” Ianto’s hand slipped from Jack’s shoulder and he took a step back, his voice filled with irritation.
“It isn’t, it really isn’t.”
Jack turned and pulled Ianto into his arms, placing a kiss to his brow. “But no one would think any less of you for looking after yourself for once.”
He pushed Ianto back, meeting his eyes. “Go home, Ianto, get some rest and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Sir, I’ve got work to do, the archives...”
Jack silenced Ianto with a sharp look. “The archives can wait; you are to go home and relax.” He pointed towards the hub door. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Ianto sighed, knowing that it was impossible to change Jack’s mind when he was in this mood. Besides, if he was completely honest with himself he liked the sound of a night off – they were a rarity if you worked for Torchwood. On his way out of the door he turned back to Jack. “Are you going to come round and help me relax this time, Jack?”
“Not this time, Ianto.” Jack barely glanced up, gesturing to the alien technology he had been looking at before Ianto had entered. “Besides, Owen would complain if I opened your stitches.”
Ianto fought back a wave of disappointment as Jack turned his attention back to his work. “I’ll see you tomorrow then, Sir. Bright and early.”
Jack offered no reply, his attention firmly on his work. As Ianto walked away he wondered if the captain had even heard.
***
The factory on the outskirts had been abandoned as long as Ifan could remember. During the war, his Gran had told him, it had been full of activity, hundreds of people busy working for King and country. It had been closed down not long after the war ended. His Gran had also said that its closure had less to do with falling revenue and more to do with the place being haunted. Ifan hadn’t believed her until he had discovered that it was a popular place for Cardiff’s destitute to sleep, and witnessed too many things that couldn’t be explained by simple logic or science.
You got used to the strangeness after a while though; Ifan had learnt that first hand, and now he was one of the few who regularly slept there. It had become a sort of home for him, a familiar base, somewhere he looked forward to returning to at the end of the day.
Tonight, however, as he slipped through the chain-link fence into the factory’s yard, Ifan couldn’t shake the feeling of unease from the pit of his stomach. The factory was too quiet, too still and every minute sound he made seemed magnified to epic proportions. Trying to shake the feeling of being watched, Ifan reminded himself it was only another one of the factory’s strange phenomena, nothing to be afraid of, and hurried towards the building.
As soon as he set foot inside the building, Ifan wished he hadn’t. The moonlight that filtered through the broken windows highlighted a massacre. At least ten bodies, perhaps closer to twenty, lay strewn across the factory floor, looks of horror and panic on every face. Ifan was no stranger to death, but this time it wasn’t old age, hypothermia or even an overdose that had been the cause of death. These people – he’d have gone so far as to call some of them friends – had been murdered, caught unaware and slaughtered by someone ... or something.
In the back of his mind, a voice told him he needed to report this to someone. Not the police; they would most likely blame him for this, and besides, the last thing he wanted was to have them poking their noses into his business.
‘We deal with the things the police can’t handle’
With a sickening lurch, Ifan recalled the creature from the building site and the body of the night-watchman. His hand slipped unconsciously to his pocket, fingers curling around the scrap of paper there as he remembered the man – Ianto, his name had been – from the building site. He would know what to do.
He turned, wanting to be as far as way from this place as was possible, and froze, finding his way blocked by three figures.
“What have we here? A little boy, caught up in the storm.”
The mocking voice belonged to the figure in the middle. He stepped forward; at first glance he looked like a normal man but when Ifan dared meet his eyes, he shrunk back at the hatred, the fury and disgust registering in the man’s gaze. There was nothing even vaguely human in those eyes.
The man seemed to be contemplating what to do with him; Ifan hoped that the options wouldn’t all end in his death.
“You were at the building site today.”
It was a statement, not a question, and Ifan wondered how he had known. He certainly hadn’t seen the man before. After a few moments, the man smirked and pulled a small orb from his pocket and pressed a button on its surface; it bobbed in the air casting a soft light on the area. “I have a few questions for you, boy. Answer them and I’ll let you live.”
Ifan thought about it for a moment. There could be no harm in answering a few questions, and he did want to live. He nodded. The man pulled a photo from his pocket and held it out. Ifan recognised the team from the site.
“This,” he pointed at a man in a military greatcoat, “is Captain Jack Harkness and his little team.”
Ifan nodded, suddenly wary as to where this was going.
“Now, Harkness is a clever man, and one of his team is in great danger from him. Knowing Harkness, he will keep this one closest. When you saw them, did you notice anything that would indicate who this was?”
Ifan stared at the picture, his eyes landing on the figure of Ianto Jones. He was suddenly unsure of what to do. He didn’t trust this man, but silence would result in his death and if Ianto was in danger from Harkness – wasn’t it right to answer truthfully?
Before he could change his mind, Ifan pointed at Ianto. “That one, he kissed him.” He looked up, already regretting his decision. “He’s going to be O.K., isn’t he?”
The man smirked. “Oh, he’ll wish he’d never met Captain Jack Harkness by the time I’m done with him.”
He turned away from Ifan, towards the other two figures. “Kill him – then torch this place.”
Ifan screamed as the two figures stepped forward, realising for the first time that they weren’t human. As they approached, Ifan was barely aware of the fact the man was speaking.
“Don’t worry, it’ll be quick – that’s more than I can say for Ianto Jones.”
TBC... |
