With many, many thanks to AutumnxAngel for beta reading for me. Your help has been invaluable. :)
Ianto. He had to find Ianto. Where was Ianto? That question ricocheted painfully around his head a thousand million times as he hurtled away from the retreating sounds of Martha's car. The name was synchronised into the beating of his heart. Ianto. Ianto. Ianto.
His legs trembled beneath him, weak with terror and wild with panic, but he continued clambering aimlessly through the woodland, devoid of any sense of direction. Only one thing in the world made sense now: his team.
Ianto. He turned his thoughts into speech, quiet at first, barely audible for fear of the dangerous alien, but before long his one-worded mantra was frantic and screaming: "Ianto!"
No answer.
What had he expected? A joyful reunion with the healthy, intact Welshman? For Ianto to come running towards him, arms outstretched, all tears and apologies? No…
Jack stumbled clumsily into another clearing and froze instinctively. There, on the ground, bent over the decapitated body of a Weevil, crouched the alien, lips pulsating with lust for the blood that oozed out over the Weevil's shoulders and onto the leaf-strewn floor. It stared intently at the red pools of blood as they spread, its mind lost with thirst. Jack cringed when it raised a clawed hand, already moist with Gwen's blood, to scoop a handful of liquid from the space where the Weevil's head had once been. It drank like a child, uncoordinated and greedy, blood trickling down its wide chin and smearing onto its blushed cheeks.
Wonderful, Jack groaned inside, a vampirical, lunatic alien on the loose. And its thirst was apparently insatiable. He considered his options for the moment and opted for hiding. He backed away into the nearest tree before he realised what he was doing. Great Jack, he scolded himself, a giant monster's hardly ten feet away and you hide in a tree?
The monster did not seem fazed by his sudden intrusion upon its supper, ignoring him to continue drinking with dissipating enthusiasm.
Jack almost fell out of the tree when something brushed his shoulder lightly. A leaf, he passed it off, just a leaf. After Daleks and the Master - you're spooked by a leaf? He soon abandoned the leaf theory when the same something touched his shoulder again, this time stronger and with a sharp poke.
He looked up abruptly and felt his heart rocket into oblivion as the hammering of his heart changed from that of fear to elation: Ianto. There was Ianto, crouched above him in the tree, clinging on for dear life, sheer terror radiating from his shaken, battered form. In the dimness of the trees Jack could only see the other man's pale face, so his desire to check for injuries was put on hold. But it was Ianto, and he was alive, which would have to do.
He'd never felt a stronger urge to hug the Welshman, but the tree hardly catered for such things.
"Ianto," his voice was breathy with relief.
The other man blinked. "It's demonic Jack," his voice was stony, "it's more than a Weevil or any alien we've seen before - it's evil." His voice became louder with fear and, in the gentle light, Jack could see the marks of tears on his face.
"Shh," he made a hand gesture, "it might hear us."
"No. It won't. It might be ugly as anything but it sure isn't that smart. Its senses of sight and sound aren't exactly top notch - it relies on taste and smell. It can smell blood." Considering its apparent never ending fetish for blood, that made sense.
Jack looked down at his hands. They were awash with Gwen's blood. Could the creature smell it?
"And are you…?" He asked nervously, finally voicing his racing concerns.
"No I'm not bleeding," Ianto replied, "but I think my leg's broken. I heard it snap when I was running, but to be honest I was more concerned with the super sized Weevil on my back than the pain. I made it up the tree and that's when the Weevil turned up."
Jack's heart literally shuddered with relief. Ianto was fine. A broken bone was nothing compared to what could have happened; what almost happened. "Thank God for the Weevils then?"
Ianto did not laugh. "Jack… what happened to Gwen? We were running, following the Weevil tracks, then suddenly she wasn't beside me anymore. I called her name. There was a scratching noise, some growling and something that sounded like a punch but I can't be sure. Gwen was nowhere. I didn't know what to do... God Jack I panicked. All I could think was fire a shot into the air, and when I did that thing charged out of nowhere. It was headed straight for me. Oh God Jack… what if I've killed her? What if she's dead because I…"
Ianto's worries were heartbreaking, the few feet between them was a few feet too many. "Ianto listen," Jack tried to make his voice strong enough for the other man to focus on. "Gwen's alive. I found her; she's with Martha. That shot you fired probably saved her life."
"Is she bad?"
Jack considered how much to tell Ianto. Couldn't most of it wait until they were away from danger? "Bad. Bleeding, bruised, unconscious."
"Will she live?"
Would she?
"I don't know." His blood froze for a second as each and every cell considered one possibility. One single, crushing thought.
Gwen, lying on the hospital bed, dead. Gwen, pale and cold to the touch. Gwen, so caring and sensitive, lifeless. Her last moments had been painful, her last words of her husband. No mention of Jack. Her mother… Jack would have to call her and do his best to comfort her. Then he would Retcon her. And Rhys? Inconsolable, enflamed by rage and grief. He'd have to Retcon Rhys too, though he knew how Gwen had always avoided it. How could you ever console someone for losing something like this? When it was all over he'd want to Retcon himself… the memories would be too much. To know that he had lost her would be too much... Her wedding had been painful enough… her death, and the knowledge that he could never follow her beyond in spirit, would be unspoilt torture. To live each day for all of eternity with the memories of Gwen, so hopeful, so smart and so trusting would be unthinkable. What life was there if she was dead?
"Jack?" Ianto was whispering, as scared of the haunted look on Jack's face as he was of the monster.
"I don't know. Let's just concentrate on getting out of here first. Any ideas?"
"I don't fancy a round or two with that," Ianto gestured down to the alien that was now sucking viciously from the Weevil's wound.
"We could take it together" he lied, "just think of it as a chubby Weevil."
"Compared to that thing, Weevil's are cute. It makes Janet look like a fluffy hamster. And my leg's broken, remember? I'll hardly be much good."
"You're always good Ianto, don't forget that." No matter had what happened in the past month.
The alien finally withdrew its teeth from the gouges in the Weevil's body about five minutes after they had witnessed it lap up and gulp down every drop of blood that it could. It stood on its large, heavy feet and swayed dizzily, light headed as if it were drunk. It spun full-circle; Jack and Ianto cringing when its eyes almost met theirs. It grunted to the Weevil, as if disappointed that it could no longer provide more blood, and staggered off, nose in the air, away from the clearing.
Jack breathed a hasty sigh of relief before jumping down from the tree and extending a hand to help Ianto. The stench of the Weevil's body was sickening; it had been dead for at least an hour now.
"I'm so glad you're ok," Jack flung his arms around Ianto quickly, before the other man could protest. The past few hours had taught Jack many things. What remained of his team was lost without him, floundering and open to attack. Despite weaknesses, they were loyal and brave when all others would not have been. They were precious and vulnerable, fragile and so, so very human… and his.
He had wronged them in too many ways. His selfish, thoughtless actions had led them here today; had left Ianto wary but alive, had left Gwen's life hanging in limbo.
"I'm..."
"You're sorry. I know." Ianto hugged back. "Gwen said. Before - in the Hub - it's not that I didn't believe you, it's that… You surprised me Jack. You left us - again."
"I know…" It was like it had been with Gwen, the guilt came crashing over him like a relentless tidal wave. "And I hate myself for it. If I could change it, you know I would. I'd give anything to go back and change it. But I can't. Instead we have to put up with the consequences. And right now that mean's a trip to the hospital, shipmate." The former joke went unnoticed by Ianto, whose eyes were narrowed and fixed on a point somewhere above Jack's left shoulder.
"Ianto? I have to know - do you forgive me? Are you with me?"
A smile flittered to the surface, "'course. Always." Loyal to the end - that was his Ianto.
"C'mon," Jack plucked at Ianto's arm and draped it around his shoulder. The two limped on, Ianto hopping to avoid placing his wounded leg on the ground and wincing every time it got jarred by the motion. "Y'know," Jack grinned for the first time that day, "I'm getting tired of carrying people around like this." He laughed and, finally, Ianto's resolve broke and he chuckled.
"Which hospital is it?"
"Pass. Let me call Martha."
As he did so, Ianto leaned against a nearby tree trunk, examining his leg with shaking hands.
"Don't you go passing out on me as well," Jack warned as he pressed 'call'. "It's ringing... Hello, Martha?"
"Jack! It's about time! Where are you? Is-"
"Ianto's fine. A little shaken, but nothing a few cups of tea and a plaster cast won't sort out. Where are you?"
"The hospital, Cardiff City General." She offered no specifics, which worried Jack.
"Gwen?" He prodded, daring to hope for the best and yet fearing the worst.
"She's stable - for now. It was touch and go when I first got here. She stopped breathing in the car and the doctors had trouble bringing her round. They've given her a good few units of blood but they say the extent of her wounds is still shocking. I made up some story about her getting attacked by a dog or something." Jack could hear his heart pounding as she paused. " Nothing's certain yet - but it's looking hopeful." At last, some good news.
"Rhys?" Jack ventured.
"Is here and licensed to kill. He's livid Jack. He's cornered me a few times demanding to know where you are. His exact words were: 'Where the bloody hell is that Torchwood bloke and what's he done to my wife now?' I had to call him... as soon as I arrived at the hospital they said I had to notify the next of kin. I didn't know who to call but I could hardly phone her mum could I?"
"It's alright. I'll explain to Rhys." Yeah, and pound him for being more concerned about my whereabouts than his wife's wellbeing.
"Want me to come and drive you here?"
"Would you? I know it's a lot to ask but..."
"It's fine."
In the background Jack heard a door slam loudly, followed by the heavy footsteps of someone approaching Martha.
"That him?" Someone grunted. Male. Welsh. Rhys. Damn.
"Yes," she sighed. More indistinct words by the Welshman and Martha coughed suspiciously, "No you can't speak with him. Look Mr. Williams, I suggest that you go back in there and sit with your wife." Even more grumbling, then more stomping footsteps and another slammed door. "I swear Jack, if you don't knock him out I will."
"You have my blessing Martha Jones."
Her laughter was tense and tired. "I'll be there in a minute."
Jack supported Ianto's weight until they reached the path, where Ianto insisted that he was well enough to walk and began to hobble painfully along the dirt trail. Jack hovered behind him, ready to extend a hand to help. He'd learnt his lesson - where his team was involved he would always extend a hand.
They reached the end of the woodland at last, and sat on the edge of the curb. It felt strange to be out of that claustrophobic atmosphere of trees. It was as if they had been freed after a long imprisonment underground, during which many horrific things had taken place, events that mingled together awkwardly like congealing blood.
Cars zipped past them absently. Occasionally a driver or passenger would look their way, but mostly the inhabitants of Butetown kept to their daily business, not sparing a second for the two dishevelled men sitting side by side on the roadside.
"What're we going to do about the… um… thing?" Ianto queried.
"I vote against the old 'divide-and-conquer' routine for this one. We'll need as much strength as we can get. We'll need Martha, we'll need bigger weapons, we'll definitely need Gwen. Let's just make it to the hospital in one piece shall we?"
"Yes. But there's an alien just running around Pike's Wood isn't there? Won't people notice?"
"Nah," Jack shrugged, "you think people pay that much attention? We'll deal with it as soon as we can. Meanwhile - we have our own monsters to deal with." He pictured Rhys and did not envy Martha.
"Right." Ianto shifted on the kerb and took Jack's hand loosely in his own.
It wasn't much, but it was a start.