Final one!
Spoilers for "Cyberwoman" and "Fragments."
"You like to think you're a hero. But you're the biggest monster of all."
If he found it a little unnerving how easy it was to regain access to what was left of Torchwood London, Ianto didn't show it. Instead, he calmly re-entered the building through where he'd exited with Lisa and began his steady march back up to the mid floors where he'd found her. Around him, he saw the red berets of UNIT bustling about as well as a few shell-shocked individuals that Ianto guessed were either plainclothes UNIT personnel or maybe even Torchwood personnel. Maybe even Torchwood London personnel.
Someone else must have survived.
Despite the shouts and clipped commands being issued, it was plainly obvious to Ianto that those now in authority were having a difficult time establishing a stream-lined order for the disarray that was still smoking around them. He continued to walk like he had a purpose and everyone left him alone until he got to the stairwell. From there, he forewent the calm demeanor and raced up the stairs. He hadn't been faking his determined stance. He did have a purpose. He had to get back to the conversion unit from where he'd taken Lisa.
Panic had driven him earlier. Panic and a desperate need to get her out of the hell they'd all fallen into. He remembered screaming for help. He remembered her screaming to not just leave. To go back and take the main conversion panels with him. He remembered taking a standard Torchwood London SUV. He'd driven to her place, ignoring the lingering swatches of chaos on the public streets. Under her faltering instructions, he'd used the medical equipment in the kit inside the SUV and the still warm parts of the conversion unit he'd managed to salvage to stabilize her.
But it wouldn't last her long. Even without her telling him, though she did, Lisa needed the larger unit. It would be the only thing that would be able to keep her alive until he thought of something else.
When Ianto got to his destination, he saw the conversion unit was just as he'd left it. The main bed was still intact, though the sides were twisted and leaking wires from where he'd ripped at the panels earlier. Staring at the thing that had, in degrees, tried to erase Lisa, Ianto wanted to take a crowbar and start destroying it. He wanted to smash it and grind every last speck of metal into nothingness.
But he couldn't. He needed it. Lisa needed it.
Then what?
Now that he'd reached his preliminary goal, his brain let slip through the one question Ianto had resolutely ignored earlier. What was he going to do once he got Lisa stabilized? Where would they go? He'd seen the body bags being lined up in the cleared offices as he'd walked through. They were killing the partially converted. They weren't even trying to find a cure or find a way to reverse what had happened. They would take one look at Lisa and execute her.
But what will you do? You can't find a cure. No one can. Who will you even ask? His mind relentlessly questioned.
A different kind of panic began to settle into Ianto's bones. He couldn't do this. He needed help. He couldn't do this on his own. Lisa was counting on him and he was about to fail.
Lost in the mounting terror, he almost missed the sounds of footsteps coming his way. Reflexively, he moved into what had been a supply closet, out of sight. Peering through the crack in the doorway, Ianto saw a woman with curly dark hair enter the room.
"Jack," she called over her shoulder. "I've got another one here."
Shortly behind her came in a tall, dark haired man wearing a greatcoat.
It was Jack Harkness. While Ianto could only see his profile, he recognized the man from the security logs back when he'd come the once to Torchwood London. If Harkness was here that meant Torchwood Cardiff was also here.
"Are we taking this?" asked the dark-haired woman, peering at the dismantled controls. "It's definitely shot up. The main panels are gone. I doubt anyone could do anything with this without those."
"We're taking it," Harkness stated, firmly. "Anything on Tosh's list, we're taking back with us. Take it apart and load it up."
"It'll just take up more space in the archives. Have you even seen the state of that area lately?"
"I don't need your commentary, Suzie."
Ianto tensed when Harkness turned to cast a glance around the area. The blue eyes swept past the door to the supply closet, but if the older man noticed it being slightly ajar, it didn't hold his attention. Ianto got a clear look at Harkness' face now that the captain had turned his back to the dark-haired woman. Harkness' features, which had been artfully arranged to look stoically calm now eased. Watching from his hiding spot, Ianto saw a look of grief pass over the older man's face.
Suddenly, Ianto wanted to walk out and beg Harkness for help. He wanted to plead with the head of Torchwood Cardiff, the one renegade branch that had never followed by Yvonne's rules and therefore quite possibly might show mercy, to help him. To help him save Lisa and ease the weight that was crushing down on him.
But even as his fingers wrapped around the door knob, someone else walked into the room and called Harkness' name. The features rearranged themselves back to their earlier mask.
"Jack." It was another man. Wiry, dark-haired. "You should take a look at this list." He waved a piece of paper toward Harkness. "It's still a work in progress, but I reckon in an hour or so I should get the final numbers, which should be closer to 25. Maybe even 30."
"What is it?" asked Harkness, not taking the paper.
"A list of survivors."
"I've already seen the casualty list," Harkness replied, coldly. But even so, there was a small crack of grief in his voice.
The other man blinked before he waved the paper at Harkness again. "I know. This is a list of survivors."
Harkness stared at the paper being thrust at him for a moment before he pushed it back toward the other man, unread. "I don't need to see that, Owen."
"But it's got contact information for...aren't we going to do something?" asked Owen.
"Like what?" The steel in Harkness' voice made Suzie pause from her work and look up.
"What do you mean?" Owen demanded, looking confused. "These people are probably traumatized. We'll need to get them the proper care. Set up counseling. Or…" His voice trailed off when he saw the hard look he was getting from Harkness and the somewhat pitying one he was getting from Suzie.
"Counseling is not our job," Harkness stated.
"I thought helping people was," retorted Owen. "Jack, the casualty number is in the hundreds. These are the only survivors. You can't just leave them."
"We help people against alien threats, not pull them out of the graves they dug for themselves!" snapped Harkness.
Owen gaped for a moment. "You can't be serious."
"You want to talk numbers?" Harkness asked, icily. "How many people do you think have died today, yesterday, years back because of what those people on that list did? How many lives do you think have been lost because of these survivors?"
"You don't even know these people!" Owen protested, still holding out the list. "You don't know what their jobs were here. We're talking possibly the bloody canteen staff!"
"They're Torchwood London," stated Harkness. "And they have nothing to do with us." His tone left no room for argument. "Help Suzie break that down and load it up in the SUV." When Owen opened his mouth, Harkness cut him off before he even began. "If you don't like it, you can quit." Owen closed his mouth and slowly retracted the hand that held the list of survivors. "We leave in 30 minutes."
Ianto eased his hold on the door knob, not realizing until he tried to uncurl his fingers that he'd been gripping it so hard, his knuckles were cracking. He stared as Suzie walked up next to Owen who was staring off where Harkness had exited.
"You'll get used to it," she said, mildly.
"This isn't right," Owen gritted out.
"Jack has a bad history with Torchwood London. And besides, he's not wrong. We're here to salvage. Not set up group counseling."
"He hired me to help save lives," protested Owen.
Suzie gave him a humorless smile. "Ever think some lives aren't worth saving?" When Owen stared at her in disbelief, she put a hand on his shoulder. "Owen, really. I'm not saying it to be cruel. But you'll need to think about those kinds of distinctions if you want to work with Torchwood. With Jack." She waited a beat as Owen processed the information. "Now, come on. Give me a hand with this."
As she moved back to the conversion unit, Owen cast one more glance over to where Harkness had exited before crumpling the paper in his hand into a tight ball. "Fuck it," he whispered. "Fuck it all." Marching over to join Suzie, he grabbed the tool she was holding out to him and began to angrily dismantle the unit.
Ianto watched as the two from Torchwood Cardiff took apart the unit in under fifteen minutes and packed it away. He watched as they left with the parts, taking away what he needed to help Lisa.
Because he would help her.
A calm started to settle over him as he slowly formulated his plans, taking the place of the cold anger that had filled him when Harkness hadn't even glanced at the list. He would save Lisa. Because now he knew no one else would. No one was going to help them. Help him. He was alone in this. That knowledge hardened his resolve and hardened him against Torchwood Cardiff. He was going to get their assistance. Whether they wanted to give it or not.
The sparse wooded areas of Cardiff smelled the same to Ianto as they had when he'd been a child. A few months after their move, he and his parents had gone on a picnic in one of the small forests just along the edge of the city. Despite almost two decades rolling by, Ianto still recalled the damp, comforting scent that had swirled around him that day.
The same scent filled his head again when he took a deep breath as he watched Harkness wrestle with a Weevil a few feet in front of him. Ianto had been tailing the man for nearly three hours and had been almost grateful when a Weevil had finally made its appearance. The creature was fairly big and it looked like Harkness was going to lose what little upper hand he currently had.
A small shiver of guilt skated through Ianto's mind, which he quickly doused by conjuring up the memory of the last time he'd seen Harkness at Canary Wharf. The man might have been opposed to Yvonne Hartman, but that didn't make him any better than her. He was still a Torchwood director and as such, kindness and being treated kindly didn't come into it.
A snarl from the Weevil brought Ianto's focus back to the mini-battle raging in front of him. The captain's coat billowed out like some hero's cape as he was spun into a tree. Reaching down, Ianto picked up a thick fallen branch. He swung it once to test its weight and calmly began to walk toward Harkness.
THE END
