THE LONG NIGHT
"What the hell is going on? Someone talk to me, now!" Jack yelled down his com as he peered into the gloom, desperately searching out his colleagues. All he could hear over the device in his ear was the sound of sharply drawn rapid breaths.
Someone was running.
Gwen was stood a pace back from Jack, her gun and flashlight raised in a tight, well-practiced grip as she scanned the cluttered building site in which they presently stood. She too could hear the same as her leader over the com.
"Shit it's fast Jack Ianto's followed it up on to the scaffolding, we're round the back of the building…. Fuck….. fuck…."
Owen's breathless explanation did little to ease the tension clearly visible in Jack's shoulders. Gwen was not surprised when he broke into a run, coat tails flying and Webley at the ready. Gwen was close on his heels as they ran into the bitter night. Gwen shoved her own misgivings deep down where she wouldn't find them again as she followed in the wake of Jack's footsteps, their shadows racing before them in some macabre dance over grit, and muddy tyre tracks. Rain slanted down barely visible under the flood lights powered by two generators that thrummed over to her left, shrouded by deeper shadows and the night. Gwen's gaze darted about as she ran. She felt exposed as they charged across the building site, the light hiding more than it revealed as diggers and trucks sat in slick mud casting pools of blackness of their own. Anything could be hiding here and Gwen knew she should be used to that by now. The cold was creeping in under her leather coat and rain turned her hair into heavy rat's tails that slapped at her face as she ran. It was a struggle to keep pace with Jack as he barrelled on ahead of her. The skeleton of a tall building loomed ahead, shrouded in scaffolding and cloth, the dull steel, shining with the rain. There was too much darkness there and Gwen felt her gut clench with trepidation. Heights were not her thing as she followed Jack. Gwen almost slammed into him as he suddenly halted and yelled into his com again.
"Owen, Ianto, talk to me!"
Gwen caught sight of a dancing torch beam some metres up and realised it had to be one of her colleagues running along the length of the scaffold some four floors up above the ground. She could hear their footfalls harsh against wooden boards. Owen's panicked voice was in her ear once more.
"There's two of them. Jack they're heavily armed, can't see Ianto."
Jack was rigid and like her he was scanning the building in front of her and then he yelled into the night.
"Ianto, where the hell are you?"
Gwen was entirely thankful that her high tech ear piece compensated and was equally relieved to hear a familiar Welsh accent follow Jack's bellows.
"Round the back, sixth floor."
It was barely discernable through the strained heavy breathing.
"Don't know what they are….. oh shit!"
"Ianto, Ianto!" Jack shouted and then ran, but suddenly he froze again and Gwen could only watch in abject horror as there was a brilliant but brief flash of green light, followed by a bone splitting screech. A deafening crack followed as before their eyes, the half-finished structure before them appeared to waver and then buckle. Jack swung round and grabbed Gwen's arm.
"Run!"
Gwen didn't hesitate. She bolted as the scaffolding collapsed like a slowly folding clothes horse, as wood split and metal buckled, clattering and ringing it's way down to a chaotic mess on the ground. Steel pipes and bricks bounced and scittered away. Jack threw them to the wet unyielding ground, shielding Gwen's body with his own until everything went quiet.
There was nothing left of the building but a pile of steel, wood and brick as Jack stood up and bellowed into his com. He was met with silence and as he turned Gwen was already on her phone to the fire brigade and Jack shook his head.
"What? Jack? We have to!"
Jack snatched the Nokia from her grasp. "We can't, we still have two off worlders to deal with." He snapped glancing back at the mess. Gwen huffed angrily at his side.
"Jack!"
He closed his eyes for a moment and gathered himself before speaking into his com.
"Tosh, you with us?"
"Yes, Jack what's going on?"
Jack didn't give her an answer, there was no time. "I need a UNIT detachment with a rescue team. Contact the local police we'll a need a full cordon around the area of the building site on Penarth Road. I need these things now and while you're at it I need exact locations for Ianto and Owen, we've lost contact and they are likely injured." His voice was calm, belying his extreme worry.
Thankfully Tosh knew she just had to on and ask further questions later.
"I'm on it Jack… I'm getting no signal from Ianto's com device or his mobile. Owen's position is now being transmitted to your PDA and Gwen's phone. Calling UNIT now."
Jack was grateful for her calm efficiency as he pulled his PDA from the depths of his coat pocket. He studied the screen for a moment before hauling in a steadying breath and turning to Gwen.
"Go back to the SUV and co-ordinate with the police and UNIT when they get here. I'm going to search for the others, and be vigilant Gwen, we still may have to deal with our 'visitors.' Rhys would strangle me if anything happened to you, especially after you've just paid for your wedding."
Gwen knew he was trying to humour her but she didn't feel inclined to argue, her wedding was a bit of a sore subject at the moment and Jack had only been back a few weeks after his expedition with the Doctor. Her feelings were in a terrible muddle and she didn't mind admitting it to herself. She took a brief glance in the direction of the wreckage.
"Be careful Jack." She turned and ran off, her gun and torch still at the ready. Jack was proud of her, Gwen had come a long way during his absence. They all had really. With a grim smile on his face he wiped away the rain and strode forwards, his gun levelled, torchlight reaching into darkness.
"Owen?... Ianto?" Neither one replied.
TWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWT
Owen could only thank whichever deity it was that had chosen to watch over him, because by some miracle he was alive, and after a brief assessment of himself he realised he was also undamaged. His grip on his flashlight had remained steadfast despite tumbling down amid a chaos of clattering and debris and he was relieved to discover no evidence of blood on or breakage to his person. He scrabbled at his head for his ear piece only to discover it was absent and during this he suddenly became aware of shouting and that he was trapped, worse than that, almost completely buried under a rubble pile of planks, steelwork and bricks. How was he not dead? Owen did not want to dwell on that as he wriggled his hand into the front pocket of his now ruined leather jacket. That leather jacket had cost him over £300. Shit, he was alive. Shit. Owen suddenly remembered why he was there and as he strained to get at his Nokia he wondered where his gun was. Somehow he discovered that he was rather pissed at himself for letting it go. His phone came out in pieces. Shit. He squirmed around, searching out with his hands and the meagre light of the torch. That voice again, urgent and strangely familiar. Jack…. Oh, Jack.
"Jack!" His attempted bellow came out as a croak and then began to cough the dust from his throat. "Bollocks, Jack, over here. Jack!"
Owen listened for a response and there was none. Jack clearly couldn't hear him. Owen swung the light around, trying to peer through the black in order to determine just how buried he was. His heart sank as he began to question just how secure the stuff above him actually was. He then remembered Ianto.
TWTWTWTWTWTWTWWTW
"Wake up!"
Ianto struggled, the commanding voice was unfamiliar, carrying a vaguely metallic tang in its urgency. He could only lie there as terror and the memory of Daleks and Cybermen gripped him and froze him to the core. The struggle was a mental one as he quickly realised that he could not move and he was too afraid to open his eyes. His heaving chest gave the game away, he couldn't play dead as his lungs battled to inflate to keep him alive. He became hyper aware, his senses overloaded with pain, the rain on his face, the pressure on his legs and the torch still gripped firmly in his hand. At least he could feel; that was something.
"Come on, open your eyes, I need to check you."
Ianto reluctantly blinked, his vision filling with reddened shadows, he could not see much until what could be passed as a human face loomed into blurry view.
"There, better. Keep still you're seriously hurt."
Ianto just looked, unable to speak. His vision swam and he closed his eyes again. The stranger began talking again.
"I'm not going to harm you, and I know why you were chasing me and you have to trust me when I tell you I am not the enemy here."
As he spoke, Ianto could feel gentle hands running along his arms and checking for the pulse in his neck. He began to feel a little warmer and realised a garment had been draped over him.
"My name is Ballik. I know I've fallen through the Cardiff rift and given what I have seen I can only assume that I have travelled back sometime into the past."
Ianto opened his eyes again and blinked up at nothingness, he could not focus.
"You were running." It took great effort to say.
The touches stopped for a moment. "Yes, I was chasing an escaped prisoner, we both came through. It was she that fired at you and brought down this structure….. Do you have a name?"
"Ianto Jones." He breathed it out and felt like he was drowning. "Are you police or something?"
"No, I work for an organisation that guards the Rift, we're called Torchwood."
Ianto wanted to move, to do something. All he could summon up was,
"Oh…..I work for Torchwood too, it is why I was chasing you."
The stranger was close and Ianto wondered vaguely why he was hovering over him like this.
"What is the year?"
"2009. What was it for you?" Another ragged and painful breath, he really needed to move.
"2615…Frakkin' Hell….. Six hundred years…. Shit."
Ianto suddenly saw a face, illuminated by the flashlight that had been removed from his weakened grasp. A lean, handsome man came into view, shadowed as he was Ianto could make out perfect features, startling green eyes and dark unruly curly hair.
"I'm sorry." He mumbled.
The man, Ballik, offered up a resigned grin. "Not your fault, Ianto Jones…..Look, we're trapped here, do you have any kind of communications device on you?"
Ianto shuddered, tried to raise his arm and cried out as sharp pain whited out his vision.
"Oh, God….My ear, it should be in my ear, but I can't hear anything."
His head was gently checked. "Nothing there."
Ianto bit at his lip, "They'll find us don't fret. Jack will find us. Why can't I move?" He was more afraid now, because the pressure against him seemed to be increasing and his right shoulder felt like it was on fire. "Am I burning?"
A soothing stroke to his forehead. "You're not burning. But you have a metal spike through your shoulder, you're lying underneath it and it can't be moved until rescue arrives, so keep still."
Ianto gazed into the face, not much older than his own. "Torchwood eh? How about that….. Are we buried?"
"Yep. Don't worry."
"I'm not worried…. Are you hurt?"
"Ssshhh now, save your strength, concentrate on breathing."
Ianto couldn't even nod his head.
TWTWTWTWTWTWTWT
Jack was yelling at anyone and everyone, the police had arrived and then UNIT and suddenly the whole scene turned into something vaguely Hollywood as lights were erected and suited men began wandering about. Thankfully the UNIT commander was someone that knew Jack and didn't hate the Torchwood leader's attitude to the sister organisation. Carmichael was a calm and extremely experienced field officer and he took over the situation with aplomb, leaving Jack to let off steam as he paraded about getting cross with people who basically ignored him.
The rain hammered down, morphing into thick sleet as the night wore on. The biting cold did nothing ease Jack's temper and everything to increase his fears. Reluctantly he knew he had to step back from this and hang around the operations tent whilst the rescue guys did their job. Gwen fluttered about at his side for a while and then got fed up and retreated to the SUV to call Rhys and apologise for another night lost to her job. Rhys had told her not to worry and to keep warm, he clearly understood these days that his wife to be did more than the filing for 'special ops'. Gwen had then hung up and called Tosh to update her, because Jack hadn't.
Jack paced about feeling helpless and angry at himself. They had been too busy this last week or so and he and Gwen had been on their way back from another call out when they were re-directed by Tosh to join Ianto and Owen. Jack cursed, stupid really, the other two men on his team knew what they were doing, they were good field agents. Ianto especially had come into his own during…..Jack stopped that line of thought. He swung round and fled the tent and headed toward the gathering of rescue workers and Commander Carmichael, reminding himself that he had to calm down and speak politely to the nice UNIT people. He eased himself into the gathering and was surprised by the compassionate look he received from the UNIT commander.
"Where are we at?" Jack asked pulling his greatcoat more tightly about him. Damn it was cold.
"We've located three heat signals, one is alone, the signal is good and my team are able to speak to him now, one Doctor Harper. The other two signals are deeper into the wreckage and so far no contact has been made. We're bringing in some more specialist equipment to help get us access."
Jack was looking past Carmichael at the teams of UNIT soldiers carefully picking away at the carnage of brick and steel.
"Ok, anything you need, you get it. Torchwood will pay the bill, just do what you can to get my people out." He faced Carmichael. "Thank you for responding so promptly."
TWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTW
Owen could only sit where he was, wedged beneath….. he really didn't want to contemplate just what it was above him, and the what the devil was holding it up. Things creaked and groaned ominously and he sucked in a nervous breath every time he heard a tiny shift or scittering of rubble. Any minute he could be crushed and there was stuff all he could do about it. It was too dark to see much and the blackness felt as though it was sinking through his very skin. He could make out distant voices, jumped when he heard a loud clanging somewhere above him and shrieked in a most unmanly manner when he heard someone calling his name.
TWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTW
Ianto didn't feel very good and his rational mind told him that was because he was trapped under a pile of rubble with a big metal thing sticking into his chest. His heart kept telling him that he needed to be stronger and not to be such a whimp. The rest of him, was there anything left, just wanted to cry because he was hurt and very scared. Ballik had done his best with calm assurances, but Ianto wasn't as stupid or as naïve as he sometimes looked. He'd seen enough of death to realise that he didn't have long to go. He was cold, shocky and his lungs were filling with fluid, his own blood most likely. His staggering breaths gurgled in his ears as the effort to inhale became too much. Ballik had gone quiet, though Ianto could feel cold hands wrapped around his equally cold right hand. Fingers stroking and occasionally resting over his stuttering pulse. Ianto didn't want to look at him so he kept his eyes closed in an attempt to cocoon himself in the black. He would have preferred to go out differently to this, but decided it was better than being hit by a bus, that would have been all kinds of embarrassing. He could still feel the enlarged raindrops that dripped down through the rubble to splash on his face. He liked the rain…
FINIS.
AN: Ok flexing my TW muscles again and just exploring images, tableaus etc rather than anything.
Looking forward to 'Miracle Day', can't wait to see Jack back on our screens. I won't call it TW because without Tosh, Owen and Ianto it isn't.