6. Detached.
It was all happening around him like he was watching a movie in one of those new interactive 3D movie theatres.
Mica and David had talked him into taking them to one once and the memory of him throwing up on the way out made him grimace.
He wanted to tell Martha to slow down as she might have a conniption the way she was spinning around. Although Ianto could hear other voices only Jack and Martha seemed able to appear in solid form to him.
Is this a dream? Some alien gas thing? Why can't I focus?
What's the last thing you remember?
Bloody UNIT. Bastards. That was so unfair.
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The whole thing had gone tits up when the alien they were transporting needed overnight accommodation. Yeah, Torchwood was useful to them all of a sudden.
Ianto had been on bed rest already so Jack informing him that he was confined to quarters for the duration of UNIT's stay had been overly pompous and un-necessary. Standing there with his coat flapping and his hands on his hips. Wanker!
Ianto's temper was already frayed and it was the last straw with him erupting into a Welsh litany of abuse before tears fell.
They knew he was pregnant. The fight with UNIT had only been won by a certain blue box visiting a certain Lizzie whose anger was quite a sight to behold.
He had promised her a hold of the newborn and pickies. Pickies! I ask you.
They said it was contained. Their precious Alien that couldn't stay on the transport overnight but had to enter the base.
Only Jack's whispered description of the mantis like Alien combined with an image of Gwen as Ripley striding about the place with her gun strapped to her thigh and her knee high boots clipping the polished floor cooled Ianto's temper and released the giggles Jack had desperately hoped for. He asked Ianto sweetly if they could lend Gwen their red whip for added affect and the loud laughter that burst from Ianto rocked Bump against Jack's palm.
Jack had sighed with relief at the sound of forgiveness. He had fucked up. He knew that and things were delicate enough without adding to Ianto's blood pressure with his own stupidity.
They assured us it couldn't reach the upper levels. They lied! Fucker had entered the living quarters at break neck speed and I again lamented the lack of weaponry in our bedchambers.
Jack was going to regret winning that argument.
Now there were casualties and mess to clean up. Jack was gonna be pissed!
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He could hear screaming, panting and sobbing. Somewhere someone was in pain.
Poor bugger! Ianto hoped someone was comforting them. Giving them the good stuff at least.
Poor bastard was begging now.
"Get it out, for fuck's sake cut it out!"
Jesus, that didn't sound too good. A fellow Welshman too.
"Save him!" the pleas became more frantic. "Don't let me take him with me."
Awareness crept back as the pressure in Ianto's back became heat before blooming into fully fledged pain. The agony lived here.
Fuck! It's me! No. Bump. Jack?
Jack realised Ianto was focused on him and bent down to kiss his swollen lips.
"It's OK Baby. It's OK" he whispered, smoothing invisible hair from Ianto's brow.
Martha continued to shout instructions as she moved about the room and another familiar voice cut through the haze.
"I'm not sure if it'll work."
Ianto recognised that voice and groaned as he sought Jack's gaze again.
"Don't leave me" he grunted pulling on Jack's shirt.
"Never could" Jack grinned forgetting that Ianto knew when he was faking.
Ianto's eye line changed as another face slid in beside Jack. He struggled to focus on the floppy haired interloper.
"I'm sorry Ianto, we're not sure if this is the right thing to do but we need to try something."
"I trust you Doctor" Ianto bit out and the time lord nodded absently as he fingered Ianto's silk Kimono hanging undone, around his torso.
Tosh had given it to him one Christmas and its discovery in the boxes that Jack had retrieved from the lock-up had delighted Ianto. He absently wondered if it could be salvaged. Maybe they could cut and shorten the sleeves to three quarter length to hide the savaged fabric where the alien had all but severed his wrist and lower forearm with several deep gashes that showed white bone.
Shame. He had liked the way it covered his hands, hiding the shunt present to help with the pain meds and extras Martha assured him were necessary and not harmful but helpful to Bump.
He wore it most afternoons as he cat-napped before having to endure Jack feeding him the evening meal. God. It had lost the cute factor quickly and Ianto wondered if Jack had eaten today.
Ianto looked again at his mangled arm and wondered at the mess. He was NOT cleaning this up!
Ianto had thrown his arm in front of Bump as it lunged and hadn't felt any pain. Just primal rage.
Fucking UNIT wankers.
It was red so a stain shouldn't matter. Might need to get it in cold water soon. Perhaps he should mention it. Martha might do it for him.
He wondered if Jack had died. He definitely had no recollection of him arriving and his angry screams of rage were distant like a waterfall's roar.
He smelt blood but it might just be his. Jack looked OK but he might have changed before coming in. Ianto regarded his lover looking for signs of new life.
This was really surreal. Ianto knew he should be scared but he just didn't have the energy.
He saw Jack slide his braces off to let them flap at his thighs. Flecks of blood on the left one answered his question. He watched Jack remove his shirt and sit by the bed. Their eyes never lost contact.
He saw the needle inserted into Jack's arm and he groaned at Jack's pained expression before seeing the other end of the line attach to the shunt in his hand.
"Straight Donor to recipient transfusion is quickest and until we stop this bleeding we have no better idea." Martha soothed thinking Ianto's vocal complaint was for his own pain.
"We've exhausted our blood supply and Jack's the same blood type." Martha continued.
Ianto wondered why they were bothering. The baby had to come out. A week or three early was not going to be the end of the world … Just Ianto's.
Jack made a chocking sound and Ianto focused back on his lover's face. He tried to memorise everything he could. His smell, the cleft of his chin that was so wonderful to lick in the shower as Jack washed his Bump with those loving slow caresses. Those lips. God, he loved those lips.
Oh, those too blue eyes. Hello Gorgeous. Ianto smiled softly and Jack frowned back.
He hoped he hadn't forgotten anything. Fuck!
"Jack, the letters" Ianto murmured.
"What baby?" Jack lent closer trying to catch Ianto's soft words.
"Don't forget. The diary and photos too." Ianto knew there was something else.
Jack froze in place as he caught the last words and stared at Ianto.
"And the video. Remember at least once a week to play that so Bump remembers the sound of my voice." Ianto groaned as the back pain hit again.
Jack shook his head and tears began to roll unchecked down his face.
Ianto felt Jack's grip tighten and wished desperately for more time. Why didn't they have one more day? This was too soon.
Ianto tried to speak again but the pain reduced him to grunts and whimpers. Jack's quiet sobs turned into soft cries as Ianto lost the fight to keep his eyes open.
"Stay with me, don't leave me yet Yan" Jack cried reaching to shake Ianto.
"The baby's as ready as we are. This is it." Martha sighed regretfully, "We have to go Jack."
"Just another minute" Jack sobbed, leaning down for another kiss.
Ianto hoped he would be OK. This wasn't fair but this is life, right? Someone would look after him afterwards? Gwen or Martha perhaps?
Bump was done cooking, time to meet the world.
Ianto wished for one more breath to tell Jack those hated words and struggled to open is eyes.
"I love you Ianto Jones" Jack whispered taking them from him, as the scalpel began to draw a red line across Ianto's belly.
Jack sat stoically holding his failing lover's hand as their child entered the world.
As the Doctor held the new life in his hands Ianto's body shuddered at the invasion and sudden loss.
"It's a boy beloved" Jack sobbed, his body draped across Ianto as he broke down.
Martha began to weep as she took the boy from the Doctor's hands freeing him to grip the umbilical cord.
"Jack" the Doctor said softly "It's time."
Jack lifted his head and nodded, taking a deep breath to witness the loss of connection between father and child.
He shifted so he could cradle Ianto in his arms hoping that Ianto was still aware enough to feel his loving embrace as the Doctor placed the scissors against the cord.
With an audible snip the blades snapped together and the deed was done.
The life-force that had resurrected Ianto at the conclusion of Miracle Day was removed. The thing that had kept Ianto's heart beating was no longer in his body.
Jack let out of howl of grief as Ianto and their son's DNA conductor was detached.
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