Torchwood: An Alternate Path
Gwen didn't know how she had ended up here, her hair soaked in the rain, shivering in the cool shadows of the Hub.
That night when she had left Rhys, she hadn't meant to come here. She had meant to go to Owen's flat, not back to the place that had changed her life utterly. It was quiet, deathly so, Jack having disappeared somewhere and the rest of the team gone home.
Apart from the quiet whir of the computers, and the hum of the Rift, Gwen was alone.
She smiled mirthlessly to herself.
After what had happened in the Brecon Beacons, all she had ever been was alone. Sitting with Rhys, watching the television, she had felt so dirty, so unclean, sitting next to a man who was good, and so unaware, and so innocent of the terrible things which happened around him every day.
Terrible things had happened every day, to Gwen. She had faced horrifying alien threats, and not felt her resolution waver, but now…
Remembering what that psycho whispered into her ear, that butchering people made him happy, was beyond her ken. The disgusting truth about the human nature made her feel soiled, dirty, almost guilty. She doubted she could ever be free of the feeling.
So she had got up, left with some half-hearted excuse and walked purposefully away, to find someone who might understand what she was going through.
It had led her here, not to Owen's arms as she had first thought, but to stand in the cold darkness of the dormant Hub, shivering and wet from the rain.
Standing here, on a Rift in time and space, surrounded by alien technology and cold, unfeeling rock, Gwen felt lost more than she ever was before.
Without thought, she began to wander, drifting her hands over the equipment, through the autopsy room and into the archives.
She paused by the wall of fridges in the mortuary, holding so many people who had died. Susie, and Annie, and so many other, nameless, faceless ones she didn't know.
She carried on.
Gwen finally emerged into the main working area of the archives, where Ianto worked when he wasn't manning the reception desk.
She ran her fingers over the perfectly polished desk and shelves, the drawers all labelled in Ianto's neat handwriting.
Above her, the ceiling stretched into infinity, up into the floor of the Plass, darkness so quiet except for Myfanwy, occasionally squawking in the shadows of the Hub above her head.
Gwen felt the shaking that she had been fighting since the Brecon Beacons begin to take over, as she slowly sank to her knees. A deep cold had infiltrated her limbs, in place of the hope and the faith in humanity that had always been a part of her psyche.
She was losing herself to this damned job, and there was no one here to help her. Not Jack, not Owen, especially not Rhys.
No one.
Ianto watched Gwen from the shadows as she sank to the floor, tears tracking silently down her face, her body shaking. He felt his own pain, the pain he had carried since Lisa had died, expand in his chest, reaching out to Gwen's.
He had lost his love, she had lost her last link to innocence.
Somehow, he doubted even if she were retconned, that she would forget this utter desolation.
Tosh and Owen could never understand, what had they lost to Torchwood? Owen had been no less sarcastic and grumpy when he had arrived, and Tosh was…just Tosh.
Jack was unapproachable, somehow so much more than them. Ianto, for all his trust and need for the man, could never imagine trying to explain how he felt, deep within, beneath his impassive exterior. Something in Jack's eyes warned him that nothing Ianto had felt or experienced could match the suffering and destruction that Jack had seen in his life.
So that just left him and Gwen.
Gwen had never looked more beautiful, he thought to himself absently, as he slowly began to move out of the shadows. The dim light radiated off her raven locks, spread over the floor, her pale skin shining like moonlight was imprisoned within her freckled skin, and was now welling out from within.
They had never had much interaction, not really. They were not friends, but then again, none of the team really were.
But here and now, perhaps he could comfort Gwen, and give her the support he knew she needed now, the support he had not been given.
Because no one deserved to suffer the pain he knew she was in.
"Gwen,"
The gentle whisper was accompanied by strong hands sliding around her upper arms, pulling her upright. Gwen froze, her silent sobs stilled for the moment before she turned and realised it was Ianto looking down at her, pity in his cool, dark eyes.
"It's ok," Ianto breathed, and she shuddered. She didn't want his pity, she didn't want anyone, she just wanted to be left alone, because no one should see this.
This wasn't her, not happy, optimistic Gwen Cooper. This was a broken shell.
"Let it out," Ianto continued, his arms tightening around her as she struggled. "For fuck's sake, just let it out Gwen."
The bulwarks of Gwen's control snapped, and she cried. She cried for her lost life, her destroyed faith and the dozens of people she'd seen killed in the past few months. She cried for Jack and Owen and Tosh and Ianto. She cried for Lisa and Annie.
She cried for Rhys, and her mum and dad, and the world she could never tell them about because it was too dark, too dangerous, too wonderful and amazing.
Ianto didn't speak again, just sat with Gwen in the dark and held her, stroking her strong, vibrant hair and feeling more alive than he had done for months.
Gwen didn't know why she started speaking, but she felt that she needed to, like a catharsis through the pain.
"I had a good job before this," she breathed, her lungs still heaving with sobs. "I thought perhaps in a year or two, perhaps a baby…Rhys would be a good dad, and I'd try out for desk sergeant…well it was all slotting into place. Then I met you lot," she glanced up at Ianto, his hand stroking her hair, sliding down to her cheek, nestled comfortably in his arms. "All these things, all these things, they're changing me. Changing how I see the world."
"I know," Ianto whispered, feeling Gwen's pain like a heartbeat beneath her skin, her big, dark eyes looking up at him torturously.
"And I can't share them with anyone," the next words were spoken through gritted teeth, agony in every syllable, an agony Ianto understood.
"You can now. You can now," he whispered, tucking Gwen's head back into his shoulder, cradling her like a baby as she clung to him.
He could feel his jacket lapel soaking up her tears, her stranglehold on his tie almost choking him but he didn't care.
Eventually her sobs stilled and Ianto knew he should let her go, haul her up and send her home but he couldn't force himself to let go, and send her back to the dry, meaningless interaction of their everyday life. He just couldn't do it.
For the first time, he had felt…connected to someone else, someone who had lost as much as he had, and in just as devastating ways.
He didn't want to let her go.
"Ianto?" her quiet, hoarse voice broke into his reverie, and he glanced down at Gwen. "How did you survive?"
Ianto blinked. "I don't know," he replied, honestly. A self-deprecating little smirk made one corner of her mouth quirk upward.
"You're stronger than I am. You had no one-" she began to whisper, but he finished the thought for her, knowing it for truth.
"But you've got me," he replied huskily, his eyes trailing down of their own accord to her lips. He really couldn't help himself, and he noticed that neither could Gwen as she stretched up and their lips met.
She was the first woman he'd kissed since Lisa, and he felt his body reawaken. Her lips were warm and soft, and their kiss was gentle, tentative and chaste.
They broke apart, both their pulses racing as Gwen stared at him wide-eyed. Both knew what was going to happen next, and both knew there was nothing they could do to stop it.
"We shouldn't," Ianto breathed, his voice a low growl. Gwen shivered in his arms.
"No, we shouldn't," she agreed, but she made no move to leave his arms.
Their lips met again, forcefully, and Gwen moaned. Somehow they got upright, then she gasped as her back hit the opposite wall and Ianto's body pressed against hers. At her gasp, his tongue slid aggressively into her mouth, as her hands slid roughly into his short hair, pulling it to keep his lips on hers. Ianto growled into her mouth, making Gwen shudder violently as she pushed his suit jacket to the ground and then started on his tie.
Her head was whirling from lack of oxygen, and she felt herself growing light-headed. She wrenched her head to the side, Ianto's lips pressing hungry, open-mouthed kisses over her jaw and down her neck as his hands clasped her waist tightly, then slid underneath her t-shirt to caress her smooth skin. Gwen shrugged her shoulders, letting her jacket fall to the floor before finally yanking Ianto's tie away, and ripping aside his waistcoat to spread her hands over his taut, linen screened stomach. He groaned, rolled his hips into hers, making her gasp.
Abruptly he released her, caging her within the width of his hands splayed on the wall behind her, panting heavily, their lips still brushing.
"Gwen, I…" he ground out, his body aching insistently, all his most basic impulses urging him to just take her to bed and be damned. But they couldn't just do this, not when she was with Rhys, and he with Jack, albeit secretly. Not that Jack would mind, but still…
"Ianto, please I need this. I need you," Gwen breathed pleadingly, tears still sparkling in her big, warm eyes. Her entire body was on fire, and she needed him to quell the inferno. She needed to be broken, and put back together again, in Ianto's arms.
"You need to go home to Rhys," he murmured brokenly, their mingling breaths making both moan as their bodies cried out for one another.
"He can't help me, and you know it. He can't understand, because I can't tell him and…please Ianto I need you to do this. Only you," Gwen choked out, her body unconsciously arching into his. Those last two words undid Ianto's doubts, and he lunged forward, taking her mouth possessively.
He only stopped one last time to pull her away from the wall, taking her hand.
"If we're going to do this, then we're going to do this properly," he replied to her protesting gasp. He hoped she wouldn't fight, because he was getting too desperate for her to maintain control for long. He led her from the room, leaving their jackets and his tie lying on the floor innocuously.
He pulled her further into the shadows of the Archives, through endless aisles of wooden and metal shelving.
Still out of breath from their passion, Gwen could only just keep up. She tugged on his hand, almost painfully gripping her hand.
Ianto didn't stop, but he looked back at her questioningly.
"Where are you taking me?" she asked breathlessly.
"Somewhere private," he replied brusquely, inwardly praying she wouldn't try to stop. He wasn't sure what he'd do if she did.
Gwen wisely didn't push it, just picked up her pace.
He led her through a gunmetal grey door, and Gwen got the briefest glimpse of a bare room directly beneath the Hub, a roughly made up bed, a chair and a few bookshelves before Ianto shut the door with his heel, and whirled her around against it.
She winced from the pain, but pulled him to her anyway, sliding her hands back into his short, dark hair.
She undid the buttons on his shirt, almost purring felinely when she felt her hands come into contact with his toned chest, the hot skin scorching her own. He growled into her mouth, hands going to her own t-shirt but he wasn't so careful. He wrenched it up and over her head, breaking the kiss just long enough for the material to clear her head, and then his lips were right back on her, urgently caressing and exploring.
Their skin touched, and Gwen gasped, as she pressed her breasts to his chest, holding him tightly as his roaming hands caressed then forcefully claimed the curves of her waist and hips, before roving back up to her breast.
The feel of him cupping then hungrily caressing the aching mound drove Gwen crazy, as she lifted one jean-clad thigh to his and rocked her hips against the hardness of his body. Ianto paused, for a moment, before lifting her up and into his arms and carrying her swiftly to the bed.
He laid her down, stripping the rest of her clothes and his between heated kisses and urgent hands touching, exploring, claiming each other's bodies. Gwen arched when his fingers trailed down the expanse of her stomach to glide into the hollow of her thighs, preparing her.
Her nails squeezed the flesh of his back mercilessly, as she clung to him, before he replaced his fingers with one hair dusted thigh, riding hard against her core while his arousal was cushioned by the warmth of her stomach.
Gwen's hands frantically clutched at Ianto's hips, urging him to thrust inside of her, her entire body feeling as tightly wound as a coiled spring.
"Ianto…please," she gasped out, as he paused long enough to stare down at her, their chests panting in perfect synchronised gasps together. His lips returned to hers devouringly, and her toes curled on the sheet as he filled her, roughly.
Ianto waited just a moment to savour the feel of her around him, so very different to Jack or even Lisa, like a scorching velvet glove before he withdrew and returned. Gwen's eyes rolled back in her head, and a broken cry escaped her lips.
He took her mouth again, needing to feel what he was doing to her in every way as he drove her, and himself, insane with need, Gwen's hips bucking up with every thrust, meeting his perfectly.
Release, when it came, felt like the sun coming out from behind a cloud for Gwen, as she screamed in ecstasy, feeling utterly broken and new and claimed.
Like she was claimed by someone.
That someone released a guttural growl, before she felt him relax inside her, falling to the side with a satisfied gasp. Both lay in the semi darkness, trying to get their breaths back when Gwen's phone rang in her pocket.
Jerking upright, she reached for it, pressing the green button.
"Hey, Rhys," she murmured tiredly, feeling a wave of anxiety wash over her, but no guilt. She had needed Ianto tonight, and she would feel no regret, not ever.
"Hey there, lover!" he yelled down the phone, and she could tell he was drunk. "Just went down the pub with Banana, so I won't be home till late tonight!"
"Ok, love you Rhys," Gwen replied with a strained smile, glad he wouldn't be able to see the red marks on her neck and breasts, and from the stinging, on the inside of her thigh too. She terminated the call, and reached for her clothes.
Ianto's hand closed around hers, and she snapped around to face his darkening eyes.
"Where do you think you're going?" he asked, low and dangerous. Their bodies were still sweaty, but Gwen could already feel the nerves and heart rate raise again, in pure lust at Ianto's animalistic tone.
"I have to go home," she managed to get out, in a choked whisper. "Thank you for this, Ianto, and I'll never forget it-"
"No," Ianto growled. Gwen frowned.
"No?" she repeated. "Ianto, let me go. I have to go home."
"You are home," he replied, pulling her to him and suddenly she was sat astride him, his arms clenched tight around her waist. His lips found hers, and she was floundering under his possessive kiss and hands, clutching his face wildly as they kissed. He turned her and tumbled her back onto the pillows, pinning her wrists either side.
She stared up at him when he broke the kiss, desire already throbbing in her veins and she could feel he wasn't unaffected either. God, he recovered fast!
"Ianto…" she began huskily, but he cut her off with another kiss, ignoring her. Gwen gave up, all thoughts of Rhys driven from her mind as his hips rocked into hers and their bodies already melded together like they had been made for one another.
He had broken her and remade her, as she needed, shared her pain and taken it from her but now…now Gwen wasn't sure what was happening. All she knew was that she never wanted to leave Ianto's arms, the only place she truly felt safe anymore, ever again.
Owen and Jack were nothing on this. With Owen it would have been sex, lustful and great but empty and ultimately cold and clinical. Jack…Jack would always be distant, and she could never truly have him, not with all his secrets and his past.
Ianto, though, was quickly becoming one of the most important people in the whole world to her, and it scared her to death, even as she lay in his arms later that night, sated and succumbing to sleep, their limbs tangled together haphazardly, the screeches of Myfanwy lulling them to sleep.