RESURRECTION

Chapter Two

As Ianto strode across the Central Hub, he found himself oddly unsettled by the stillness, the near silence of the place. The only noises he could hear were the sigh of water slipping down the spire, the slight rustle of his own clothing as he walked. He usually found the silence peaceful - this was how it was when he was here alone, the others out chasing down weevils or investigating odd reports, and generally making rather large messes for him to clean up, literally and figuratively (he had used 2.35 kilograms of ret-con on inadvertent witnesses this year alone, not a large amount until you consider that each pill weighs an average of 2 grams).

When he had still had Lisa, the sudden silence as the others ran out the door would mean a chance to be with her. After he had killed her, being alone in the hub had meant that he could loosen his control over his emotions, as he couldn't at home, in his apartment with only thin plaster walls as a shield from his neighbours and their children.

At the hub, there was at least five metres of concrete and dirt separating him from the outside world and the civilians in it, separating him from their confused mess of despair, rage, annoyance, frustration. Here, as long as he was alone, he could let go without fear that he would be inundated and lost beneath the flood of someone else's pain, or that he would accidentally project his emotions onto others and send them either homicidal with rage or suicidal with despair.

His Lisa had been mourned in fits and spurts, in stolen time.

When it all became too much, inward pressures building so high that he feared he would lose control and have a complete breakdown, or just go completely mad, a likely possibility considering his family history, he would take a the weekend off from work and drive up to the deserted cliffs standing sentinel against the sea south of Cardiff.

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He had gone up there once, not long after being nearly eaten by the villagers. Jack was at the hub, as he usually was, and Ianto had wanted to be alone, needed to be alone. Alone, so he could let go, lose control. So he could curse and kick and scream if he had to, lash out without fear that he would project it all onto someone else.

He had ended up sitting on the rocky ground at the height of the bluffs, shields completely down, back braced against the side of his car, intentionally hidden from sight of the road. People did come up here on occasion, despite the barren landscape, which provided no cover from the glaring sun, the heat magnified by the rocky surroundings.

Even knowing that people came up there on occasion, he had been completely surprised by the sudden screeching of tyres. He had peered around the side of the car, cautiously, as he had not felt anyone approaching, which was odd as he had been at that moment completely unshielded. Between the specks of drifting dust kicked up by the car's abrupt halt, he was surprised to see the SUV. The floating dust was sent into a whirl as the driver's side door was thrown open and Jack jumped out.

He had learned later that, when he had not come into work that weekend, Jack had become concerned enough to use the satellite to track the position of his mobile phone.

Ianto observed silently as Jack stepped away from the vehicle, then turned in a full circle, scanning the surrounding area, before walking rapidly, almost running, towards the flimsy fence cordoning off the cliff's edge. He had stepped over the barricade, standing perilously close to the edge as he looked down. Ianto had stood up then, watching him without making a sound, hesitant to speak in fear of surprising him and causing him to fall. He knew that Jack was near-immortal and though the fall wouldn't kill him, Ianto suspected that hitting the jagged rocks and cement-hard water from that height would be rather painful.

Ianto had known Jack's secret for some time. He had been watching him closely, after Lisa. Since he had awoken from what he had thought, had hoped, was death, to feel a tingling sensation on his lips, to see Jack's eyes staring intently into his from only centimetres away. Since then, he had seen Jack survive certain death three times, and had removed all evidence of it from the records without a word of it to the Captain.

So he was not too concerned for Jack's safety as he peered down the fifty-foot cliff face. Ianto stood by the car, waiting for Jack to turn, and began to feel slightly impatient as the minutes ticked by. The view was spectacular, he knew, but Jack wasn't even looking up, was just staring fixedly at the swirling waters at the cliff's base. It was a gorgeous sight, really. Jack's dark coat being snapped about him by the wind, his black hair messy and wild from the gusty blows, a brooding figure starkly outlined against the pure azure sky. He was surprised to hear Jack give a shuddering sigh, loud enough to be heard clearly from where he was standing.

He watched as Jack slowly, almost reluctantly, reached a hand into his coat pocket and withdrew his phone. "Please." Jack whispered, the heavy winds carrying the word to Ianto's ears. He dialed a number, and Ianto was surprised to feel his own phone vibrating in his jeans pocket. It was on silent mode, however the rattling of his keys against the phone gave him away as Jack whirled around, coat flaring wide.

"Sir?" He had asked. His voice was raspier than usual, a result of being nearly strangled by the drawstrings on the hessian-bag hood. God, the smell of that thing . . . a sick mixture of blood and laundry powder, as if the wife had just thrown it in the wash after using it on their last victim.

Jack began to walk towards him, without a word.

"Jack?" He asked again. Jack did not reply, only moved faster, and Ianto drew his hands up in involuntary warding. When Jack reached him, the impact was hard enough to force most of his breath from his lungs. His remaining air was lost in an involuntary grunt of pain as Jack threw his arms around his injured ribs, holding him tight against his chest, Ianto's hands trapped between them.

"What's wrong?" he asked, the words muffled against Jack's shirt. He didn't reply. After a moment Ianto pushed at his chest lightly, and Jack loosened his grip, allowing him to move back, though he kept hold of Ianto's shoulders. "What's wrong, Captain?" he asked again, worried now.

Jack's eyes were sharp on his face, probing, looking for Ianto did not know what. "I thought you'd gone over," he replied. "You weren't answering your phone and when I looked at the tracking system it said you were up here. . ."

'What is he was doing, checking up on me?' he asked himself, frowning at Jack. Jack had scowled at him in reply, though Ianto could it wasn't genuine. There was nothing but relief in his eyes.

"What are you doing up here, Ianto?" from the look on his face, he could tell what Jack thought he had been planning. He almost felt insulted, that Jack would even consider it. As if he would just leap off the cliff, leaving his body to wash up on some random piece of coastline, possibly to be found by some unsuspecting runner or a group of children playing. No, if he had really wanted to die, Jack would never have found him in time. Ianto would have made it look like a natural death, possibly placing a call to Emergency Services beforehand so that his body would be found by someone used to dealing with such things. Just jumping off a cliff. . . far too messy, far too many variables, too much that could go wrong.

"I come up here to think," he had replied, deciding it was best to be honest, or at least partially honest. Otherwise, he would likely end up chained in one of the cells, to stop him from hurting himself.

Jack remained there, staring into his eyes. Ianto met his gaze steadily. After a moment, Jack nodded slightly, hopefully satisfied.

Releasing his shoulders, Jack gave him another hug, much more gently this time, then walked back towards the cliff, bending down to scoop up the phone he had dropped there before.

He scowled at Ianto as he came back, his irritation genuine this time. "What the hell did you think you were doing, driving with a concussion?"

It was on the drive home, sitting beside Jack in the passenger seat of the SUV, that he realised that as upset and concerned as Jack had been, he had felt nothing from him. No fear, no anger, no despair. It was true that he had never sensed anything from Jack before, but that was not unusual. He had always had his shields up before. But he had been up here to relax, to escape. He had left his defences down, his mind wide open. He should have been reeling under the onslaught of another's emotion, but there was nothing. It was a strange feeling, to be with someone without that invisible wall between them, yet still be completely alone in his mind. It was peaceful. An odd word to associate with Jack, but there it was.

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Shaking his head in an attempt to banish the memories, he continued his climb up the stairs to Tosh's workstation.

Gwen had been correct about Tosh watching the security footage from her desk. The camera feed was in a small window in the top left hand corner of her computer screen. Or, more accurately, Gwen would have been correct, except that Tosh was now unconscious, slumped forward over her uncharacteristically cluttered desk, her head cushioned on her keyboard, her computer bleeping in irritation at the resulting jibberish being typed across the screen.

Ianto gently lifted her head, and wheeled her and her chair over to the far corner of the desk. She did not stir. He smiled slightly to himself, then removed her coffee mug from the desk and placed it on his tray alongside Gwen's.

With Tosh in the only available chair, he kneeled on the floor behind her desk and began to type, for once thankful for his abnormal height. He opened a new window and examined the camera feed from the security camera covering Tosh's workstation. The camera recorded what was going on in the general area, but the angle was such that no recordings had been made of what Tosh had been typing into the keyboard or any of the work on her screen. He nodded in satisfaction. In case someone happened to look over the footage later on, he did not want the others to know just how good he was at manipulating the security cameras. They would be able to see him typing, but not what he was working on.

He edited the program that caused the security cameras throughout the hub to sweep and change angle at random intervals, replacing the random schedule with a very carefully planned schedule of his own. The new schedule seemed to be random, however it was very carefully timed, so that every 15 minutes and 32 seconds the cameras were in such a position that a slight pathway of unmonitored area ran from the Archives, through the central hub and to the mortuary, lasting one minute and 42 seconds.

Glancing at Gwen in the security feed, Ianto could see that Gwen was losing the battle with sleep. She was weaving gently from side to side, and he hoped that she had the sense to sit down before the sedative in her coffee dropped her on her arse.

Standing, he wiped the dust from his knees, then moved to stand behind Tosh, gently pushing her chair back into position in front of her desk. He pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and gently wiped a line of drool from the corner of her mouth. As she began to fall forward, Ianto caught her, then replaced her head on the desk, pushing the keyboard back out of the way. Finally he adjusted her hair, so it was falling over her face, obscuring her features. He picked up the tea tray, then headed off in search of Owen.