Le gasp! Another fic? I usually don't pump literature out this fast. Anyhoo, this one ain't a oneshot, and I intend to finish it. (I've had commitment issues with my other accounts and ficcies (never finished one!), but I actually know how this one will play out. COMPLETELY!) I love first person (and parentheses!)!Anyways, there is definite Jack/Ianto, flirting and innuendo mostly. Also, this takes place during season two, sometime before "Meat".
Disclaimer: I do not own Torchwood! Le gasp (again)!
Ianto
"Thank you," I said to the cashier. I grabbed the chocolate bar I'd bought for Myfanwy, tucked it in my coat and walked out of the shop.
Thankfully, the rift had been quiet all week. Of course, that meant something was bound to happen sooner or later. That was why my Bluetooth was still in my ear and why I was on alert, ready for most anything. Still, the lull meant time off, hence my little shopping trip. I knew Myfanwy would be happy with her snack. She always was. Lately, things had been happier for everyone. We were finally getting back in the rhythm of having Jack as our leader.
"How is my dashing Welshman?" Jack's voice sounded in my ear.
"Sir, the reason I have my comm. is in case anything happens with the rift, not so you can flirt while I'm gone," I replied steadily.
"Actually, that's not the reason I called," Jack sniffed indignantly.
"Oh really?" I chuckled.
"Yes really!" I could almost hear him pouting.
"What is the all important reason for contacting me while I bought a chocolate bar, then?"
"I just wanted to see how many people I could get to stare at you for talking to yourself."
I looked around me. There were a few people who gave me a strange glance as I passed. "Sir, sometimes you can be extremely sophomoric."
"And you find that strangely erotic, no?" I laughed jovially, earning me a few glances. Jack continued, taking my laughter as a 'yes'. "So erotic that you want to rush back to the hub as quickly as possible, drag me down to the archives and have your way with me right this very moment?"
I smirked. "As much as I'm sure you'd love that, I think I'll take the scenic route back. Now's the perfect time to enjoy a good w-" I saw something from the corner of my eye that caught my attention.
"Was that a…" I whispered to myself.
"Yan? What's the matter?" Jack asked, concerned.
"Jack, in this alleyway by me, I could swear I saw a weevil run by. It's probably my imagination, but I'm going to check it out."
"All right, be careful. You have it, right?" Ah yes, the improved weevil spray.
"I have it right here," I said, walking into the mouth of the alley. Cautiously, I turned the corner, expecting to see a snarling weevil in a shiny boiler suit, but there was nothing. I sighed. I had been worried that weevils were starting to come out in the broad daylight. "It was a false alarm Jack. I'll be back soon."
"That's good. I-" I didn't get to hear Jack finish his sentence, for a hand swatted the Bluetooth off my ear, crushing it.
I spun around to see that same weevil I'd perceived before. I quickly pulled out the spray and drenched the weevil's face in it. It reeled back in pain, clutching its face. Just as I lowered my arm I suddenly felt a burning pain on my wrist. I dropped the spray. Something was clutching it, nearly breaking it. It was another weevil, and there were two more! I struggled fiercely, trying to wrench my arm from the weevil's iron grasp. I had to get away! I couldn't face four weevils alone! I thrashed around wildly as the weevils advanced on me. (The first had recovered from the spray.)
I did the only thing I could. I took out my gun. I wasn't left handed, but it'd have to do. One of the weevils, as if knowing what I was going to do, pushed and sent me flying into the wall. I cried out pain, clutching my arm. I heard something crack, and dropped my gun. I had no weapon, no way to get help from Jack, and my arm was most certainly broken. I was really starting to panic.
"Shit!" I backed against the wall, as if I could magically go through it just in time to save myself.
My eyes widened fearfully as the weevils got closer. "God, no, no, no," I breathed furtively.
The largest weevil slashed at my face. The force of it was so great; it spun me to the side and sent me flying to the left, causing me to land painfully on my broken arm. I felt like a rag doll. I only allowed myself a gasp of pain, struggling to get up. I began to run, trying to get as far away from the quartet as possible. It hadn't lasted long; maybe a step or two. I suddenly felt two large bodies slam into mine, claws digging into my back. I was forced to the ground, every breath of air pushed from my lungs.
The weight was lifted off of me, but I knew there was nothing to be relieved about. Two pairs of hands held my arms in a vice-like grip. I shuddered at the feel of their rough, unpleasant skin. I could feel it through the fabric of my suit. One of the weevils lowered itself on to my back and buried its razor sharp teeth in my shoulder, while the last one went around in front of me, covering my mouth with its terrible hand.
"Mmm! Mmmf!" I tried calling out. Jack! Jack! I knew full well it was no use.
The pain was worse than horrible. Resisting just made it worse as my back was assaulted over and over again. I was in so much pain, yet I couldn't help thinking about the strangeness of this attack. Weevils didn't congregate like this; certainly not in broad daylight. They wouldn't go out of their way to hurt someone like this. They would never bother stifling a scream. They wouldn't care about being caught. They were generally violent only when threatened, or especially angry. Then I noticed a blinking something around each of their necks. I had no time to contemplate what the hell the objects were, though, because the next thing I knew, I was being thrown back against the wall.
I cried out, rolling on to my back. Bad move. My breath caught in my throat. My body arched, as if it would ease the torture. The weevils allowed me no time to recuperate, advancing on me once more. My arms were useless at my sides, leaving me wide open for whatever they wanted to do. The largest lunged at my unprotected stomach, another at my mouth to cover it once more, one other at my chest, and the last one went straight for my neck.
All at once, agonizing pain spread through every inch of my body. Teeth ripped at my neck, tearing at skin and muscle. Somehow, my jugular remained intact, but I couldn't say the same for much else. I was bleeding everywhere. I couldn't move. I couldn't breath. My thoughts were everywhere at once. All my strength had left me.
Then it stopped. All at once, the weevils were gone. I was alone in the alley, hacked and mangled. Despondent and dying, I lay there soaked in my own blood. What was I supposed to do? I turned my head as much as I could. My gun lay useless, out of my reach. My comm. unit destroyed, also out of reach. Summoning all the strength I could, I grabbed for my mobile, praying to God it was whole. My prayers were answered when my fingers wrapped around the smooth object. I breathed heavily, acknowledging the fact that every second I hesitated, I was closer to bleeding out.
Gulping, I held the phone close to my face. I could barely see straight. I navigated my way to my contacts, looking for the first Torchwood member on there. Cooper, Gwen. I would've preferred Jack, but I was a bit stretched on time. The phone rang once. Twice. Three times. Gwen! Please pick up! Oh… please!
As soon as I heard the fourth ring stop midway, I talked, "Gw…Gwen… P-plea…"
"-The hell?" That wasn't Gwen. Rhys! Why did he have her mobile?
I tried again. "Rhys…" I choked. My words were coming out in little more than a whisper. "I-I… I-I need… G-G… I n-need Gwen…"
"Who the fuck are you?" Rhys demanded. I probably did sound pretty bad over the phone. When I didn't- couldn't- answer, Rhys growled, "Don't call this number again, CREEP!" He hung up.
NO! I flung the phone weakly at the brick wall. It bounced back right next to my hand, undamaged, as if mocking my feeble attempt. I buried my face in my hand. This can't be happening!
"No, no, no, no, no, no…" I repeated, as if it would make things better. I was going to die; die slowly, all alone. I'd never see Jack again. I'd never get to see Tosh, Gwen, or even Owen. They'd never know what happened. They could be next! I remembered how strange the attack on me was, and the blinking things on the weevils. Some kind of control device…?
"No!" I said once more, though this time, with determination. If I was going to die, I was going to warn Torchwood. I was going to make sure that they would get to the bottom of this! I wasn't going to be useless.
I stuffed my bloody hand in my coat pocket, searching for the receipt I'd gotten earlier. I found it and quickly pulled it out, keeping it as clean as possible. I stuck my hand in once more, rooting for the pen I always kept with me. My fingers brushed the now broken chocolate bar. I'd never get to give it to Myfanwy. That observation finally did it for me. Tears filled my eyes, blurring my already obscured vision. I'm going to die! I'm going to die! My head screamed. I couldn't control myself.
"Jack…" I sobbed. I'd talked to him only minutes ago, though it seemed like hours. Our conversation was playful, and neither of us had any idea this would happen. Eventually, my sobs died down.
My time was ticking away. I had to do this quick. Resolutely, I found the pen, not bothering to wipe away my tears. I pushed against the ground with my working arm, and flipped myself over.
"Ah-! Ngh!" I cringed. It felt as if fire spread through my whole body.
I breathed slowly and deliberately. I spread the receipt out in front of me, smoothing it out as much as I could. I fumbled with the pen, setting the tip on the paper. My hand was shaking uncontrollably. I closed my eyes, filled my lungs with air, and began writing. I, Ianto Jones, would not be departing from this world without leaving behind something for Torchwood. I just hoped they'd understand. First and foremost, I hoped they'd be able to read it. My handwriting was a far cry from my usual neat script. I was getting so frustrated. The pen kept ripping the thin paper and I realized I was smearing blood all over it with every stroke of the pen. I had scribbled out half of the words after writing them, realizing that they were unreadable. Tears of aggravation, fear, sorrow, and hopelessness streaked down my damaged cheeks. I couldn't finish… It wouldn't work… They'd never get it… A few of the salty drops fell on my last piece of writing.
"D-Damn it!" I slid the paper further from me. I couldn't let anything else ruin my message.
If I hadn't been dying, I would have laughed at the ridiculousness of my final words. There was no time to dwell, though. I tossed the pen, not caring where it went. I remembered my phone, taking it in my hand. I'd decided. Someone needed to find me.
I used every ounce of strength I had left to pull myself up against the wall. Using it as support, I made my slow painful journey out to where all the people were. I was eternally grateful that my legs were still in working order. I finally made it back to the opening. No one had noticed me yet. They just walked by, unaware of my wounds.
It was not until I let go of my safety net to walk forward that I got a reaction. I pushed off the wall to keep walking, but I didn't have enough strength. I staggered then promptly fell into the light of the sun and in the path of the people. My legs buckled beneath me. As I hit the ground and was once more reminded of every one of the injuries on my body, a cry of anguish tore from my mouth.
People backed away, unsure of what to do. I heard a few screams and cell phones being pulled out. Then I spotted a familiar fluorescent yellow, and I recognized the person in it. He was far away and not yet aware of me.
I groaned, but I continued, determined to reach this person. I threw my arm out in front of me and began to crawl. I wished the people couldn't see the terrible state I was in. I also wished they might do something to help, but they were all too stunned. I could tell I wasn't getting far, so I tried getting to my feet again, but I failed pretty miserably.
"PC…" I called out, trying to catch his attention. It was difficult making my voice loud. "PC Andy… Davidson!" I cried. Andy's gaze locked on me, and he gasped.
The police constable rush towards me and kneeled down in front of me. "Has someone called an ambulance?" He asked the people, and a few replied. "What happened to you?" Andy pulled me onto his lap.
"Recent ...calls…" I rasped, forcing my mobile in his hand. "Please!" My eyes flooded with tears, knowing that this was the end. I slammed my fist weakly to his chest. "Please… G-give this… to… her…" I let the crumpled receipt fall from my hand. My vision began to blur, but I saw the horror on Andy's face.
"No! No, stay with me!" Andy cried, shaking me a bit. "C'mon, stay with me!"
I gave him a frail smile and looked away. "I'm so… so, so sorry…" I said shakily. "Jack…" I doubt my last word was heard as the blackness took over me.
Gah! Ianto! I'm so sorry! I feel like a terrible person!
Is he alive? Is he dead? Is he going to be a zombie (no)? Is he really a Time Lord and going to regenerate (no)? I guess you'll have to wait till next chapter! Not really sure when that'll come about… If it turns out to be as long as this one did, who knows?