Seventh Move

"Yes, Jack, we'll think of something. Hopefully, before anybody gets killed." Jack lets out a heavy sigh and shoots him a sideways look as he brings the SUV to a halt. Without the noise of the engine, it is too quiet for this time of the day. He takes in the sight in front of him. It looks like a crater, but there is none of the smoke and debris and heat he would expect in one created by a meteorite or anything else falling from the skies. Besides, the pod in the middle of it – the size of small space transport– seems to be rising from it rather than sinking.

"Five minutes fifty-eight!" Ianto's voice puts an end to any head-on fight he and Jack might have chosen to have. Bringing himself back in check, he grins when Jack stretches a hand in front of him.

"Batteries." Jack's not even looking at him. He's been avoiding him, ever since Ianto took him out of the cell. His plan seems to be working. Jack always gets cranky when someone gets too close to him for comfort. Disdainfully, he flips open his wriststrap and presses a few buttons, confirming what he already knew: the ship didn't fall from above: it is folding space-time and appearing here and now.

"Manners." Some days he just seems to wake up with a death wish. Right now, he knows Jack won't lash out against him. Jack is a leader, he has always been. The job will get done, whatever the cost. And he'll protect those he loves, whatever it takes. He knows Jack may hate having to rely on him, but Captain Harkness will put up with him and keep him alive if that gives his team, his friends – the man he loves and the woman he adores – a chance to survive.

"Batteries. Now!" He closes his Vortex Manipulator again and fishes for them in one of the inner pockets of his jacket as he turns around and stares at Ianto.

"You really need to teach him some manners, Eye Candy." Ianto rolls his eyes as he puts the small object on Jack's hand. "If you need a hand to handle him..." He lets the idea hang in the air. Ianto raises an eyebrow, considering, then stares straight back at him. With a smile, he turns back to the emerging ship. "So, now that you have the batteries, how do we go about swapping them?"


An eerie whirring sound hits his ears as they get off the SUV. The ship is not fully on this dimension yet, but the machinery inside it is already working, getting ready for a full scale invasion. He forces himself to relax when he realizes he's been pressing his lips into a fine line. Worrying about what will happen if the Garg'kats manage to get a foothold will not help.

"So, Eye Candy, how did your rudimentary alert system catch this?" To his left, always a step behind Jack, at first Ianto doesn't deign give him an answer.

"Torchwood London." Ianto nervously bites his bottom lip. He rattles his brain, trying to remember all he's ever heard about Torchwood One. "They shelved the project." A shadow of painful memories crosses his face. "Tosh must have gotten the data from them; the software just recognized the energy signature."

"That woman was a genius." The words leave his lips before he really notices. Because it is true. Quiet, polite, reserved Toshiko was a real fighter inside, even if her weapons of choice were brains and technology rather than the more violent items he would choose. Ianto looks at him, surprised, and nods in acknowledgement again. Of course; with the bracelets, Eye Candy can tell he really means it.

"More than that." Barely a whisper, it tells him Ianto and Tosh had been close. Friendship? Random nights when working late leading to more? No, the cute thing had her eyes on the snarky doctor, that had been obvious from the start. He feels the need to apologize again for the mess he brought with him, but now is not the time.

"I'm going in!" Jack's voice brings him back to the problem at hand. When he turns around, His Immortalness is taking some of the heavy guns out of the back of the SUV and passing them to Gwen and Ianto. When he waves one in his direction, he takes it and checks it thoroughly. "You, cover me. How long will this give us?" Jack's blue eyes latch onto him, demanding answers, reminding him of too much. The bastard always knew the effect that look had on him, and used it to his advantage.

"A field of this size..." He pauses for a second, eyebrows raised, tongue sticking out between his teeth, striking his 'thoughtful and calculating' pose. Ianto rolls his eyes. "About six hours. Maybe seven, if we're lucky." He shrugs, causing his jacket to move over his body, the familiar weight of all the weapons hidden in it strangely calming. "Not much, but better than having those things loose on your precious planet. Are you sure none of the other pods are a threat?" Jack shakes his head.

"Not in this dimension yet."

"What aren't you telling us about these aliens, you two?" Gwen's voice trails off as Jack's slowly walks towards the crater, using his wriststrap to cross the forcefield. He can't help the knot on his stomach tightening with every step. Knowing Jack can't stay dead is no comfort as he trains his weapon on the ship, eyes scouting around, watching out for the blur of motion that would indicate one of the creatures is approaching.

Before he knows it, a small panel slides on the side of the ship, and something emerges from it, heading straight for Jack. He takes a deep breath, aims and shoots. At least somebody had the good sense of ensuring it is possible to shoot through these energy barriers from the outside. He doesn't particularly fancy being in there right now. The figure slows down, but doesn't stop. To his left, Ianto curses and fires.

"Where did it fall?" He doesn't need one of those primitive ear pieces to hear Jack's question. Rolling his eyes, he presses a few buttons on his wriststrap, searching for the dying signature of the inflatable cell and opening a channel direct to Jack.

"Twenty three metres to your right, three metres ahead!" Ducking as the creature gets nearer, Jack follows his instructions without questioning; he's glad to see the survival instincts Jack developed as a Time Agent still kick in when they are needed. He bites back the snarky remark building up in his throat. Gwen and Ianto keep shooting, trying to send the alien away from Jack. Out of the corner of his eye, he catches another flurry of movement. "Damn it Jack, get out of there, there are two of them out of the ship!"

Leaving his cover, he heads into the containment area searching for a better point to fire from. To his right, Gwen concentrates fire on the alien approaching Jack while he aims at the second one; behind him, Ianto is moving to cover both Gwen and himself. And, of course, his weapon chooses this precise moment to jam. Throwing it to the ground, he draws his twin pistols and keeps shooting at the approaching figure.

"Jack! Now would be a good time!" Around him, the air buzzes and ripples as the cell's batteries are replaced. He kicks the fallen gun behind him; no use leaving a good weapon in the hands of the enemies, even if the enemies don't have hands to use them. Jack's old relic fires a couple of rounds just as the second creature starts getting too close for comfort. A volley of shots rings behind him, and he thanks the Goddesses for Eye Candy's good aim. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Jack retreating.

He misses a couple of shots; Garg'kats are always fast, but this one seems to be high on something, judging by the speed he is moving. Behind him, Ianto shouts a warning. By the time he sees the third creature, it is already on him, gnawing at his right shoulder. It takes a moment for his brain to notice that the scream he can hear is his own. Pain. Heat radiating from his shoulder. Screams, the squeal of the creature, shots being fired. Being dragged over rough terrain. A worried face through half closed eyes, concern etched into its features. He forces his mind to search for a name. Jack. Then another set of blue eyes. Eye Candy. More shots. That must be Gwen.

"Hold in there, Captain." Ianto's voice cuts through the cotton filling his head. Hands slide under him, lift him, drag him, drop him somewhere soft. Someone murmurs something about mending his jacket; that must be Eye Candy, always so attentive. His head rests on something warm and alive; he forces his eyes open and sees a face floating above him. Something presses on his wound. His mouth is too dry to even hiss at the pain.

"Careful!" Ianto's voice again. "You are hurting him. I'll do it." The figures nearby shift and a softer pressure is applied on his shoulder. Feebly, he brings his hand over Ianto's. "You'll be OK, John." And for a moment, he believes him. Then, darkness takes over.


He wakes up what feels like an eternity later, head pounding. His body is on fire, and it isn't the good kind. Slowly, he opens his eyes, only to close them again, stabbed by the light. His arms and legs feel like lead, too heavy to move. A hand runs softly through his hair. He forces his mind to remember, and shudders when the memories come flooding in. Bitten by a Garg'kat. Not many worse things in the universe. Slowly, he shuffles around as much as his tired limbs will allow. A very familiar scent – coffee and a subtle hint of aftershave – fills his nostrils. Ianto must be nearby.

"He's awake." He opens his eyes again, just a bit; he's still lying on the back of the SUV, head resting on Ianto's thigh, the kid's hand still pressing on his wound, concerned etched on that pretty face staring down at him. "You scared us there for a moment." He tries to speak, but his mouth is dry.

"How long... have I been out?" Eventually his brain finds the words, as he fights the sleepy feeling wrapping around him, the urge to relax under Ianto's light touch. Very Bad Guys at the doors and End of the World approaching. He'll fall dead later on, when the work is done. By the Goddesses, when did he become such a save-the-universe hero type? Why is he even in this backwater planet in the first place? He should be somewhere else, where he could make some stupid gambler part with his money, drink until he fell under the table and fuck the most beautiful things around. Ah, but that life of simple pleasure lost its appeal quite some time ago.

"Just ten minutes. Your pulse was very weak." Ianto gives him his best poker look, and his lips, cracked and dry as they are, curl in the beginning of a smile. "Looked like you were dead for a minute." There is more than a hint of concern in his voice.

"I think I was." Ianto looks baffled. He chooses not to tell him more than he already knows about the Garg'kats; there's no need to scare him with stories. Carefully, he brings his hand to the wound on his shoulder, feeling Eye Candy's fingers under his, long and strong. "Jack and PC Cooper?"

"Outside, making sure the cell is stable, and none of the creatures made it out during the battery swap." Ianto swallows hard, and he can see the battle raging under that calm exterior, even if he's not entirely sure what's causing it. He sits up, slowly, head spinning, grateful for the hand Eye Candy places on his back to help him up.

"I'll need to bandage this while we sort this mess. Got any medical kit?" It feels strangely intimate to be on the back of the SUV with Ianto; even with more poison in his system than is healthy to have, he can think of better uses for the back seat than to serve as makeshift emergency medpoint. Always efficient, Ianto produces a small – and by his standards, antiquated – medical bag from the front seat; it was probably Owen's – it still has a couple of badges pinned on it.

"Sterile gauze," Ianto enumerates as he takes items out of the bag and places them on the seat between them, "sticky tape, bandages, sterile water, disinfectant. Anything else?" Carefully, John sneaks his left arm out of the jacket, and winces as he tries to take it off completely.

"Atropine. Or any other thing you may have to slow poisons." Eye Candy nearly drops the bag; he curses Jack once again for not telling his team half of what they need to know. "Don't worry, I'm not dead yet. Surprisingly, it is the poison that is keeping me alive. I just need to slow its effects until I have time to deal with it." Taking a deep breath and shaking his head, the kid rummages through the bag again, hands trembling slightly. "And gloves. You don't want this getting on your skin." Once he finds what he's looking for, Ianto tosses the bag on the front seat.

Nimble hands wet the bandage pressed onto his wound and peel it off carefully. The same process is applied to his jacket, soaked in blood and torn to shreds in the shoulder where the creature bit him. He doesn't particularly fancy a trip to Napoleonic France to get a replacement.

"Don't moan about it." Ianto's low voice, the softness in it, makes an interesting change from the razor-sharp edge the kid's been using on him. "The braiding is still intact, surprisingly; it will be easy to get it fixed." Eye Candy raises an eyebrow. "Your t-shirt, on the other hand, is a lost cause. I'm afraid I'll have to cut it, unless you can move your arm." Pain floods his system when he tries; with a sigh, he reaches for a knife on his left boot, and hands it to Ianto, handle first. The kid holds his gaze for a second, then reaches for it, and slowly slides the blade under the material, cutting the sleeve open as he moves up his arm and shoulder. He shivers.

Without a word, Eye Candy cleans the knife and slides it back into his boot, carefully feeling for the hidden leather straps that keeps it in place. Picking up the water, John starts wetting the material still stuck to his skin. Slowly, Ianto peels it away, revealing a very nasty and deep bite, and starts cleaning it. He tries – and fails – not to flinch as the disinfectant hits the wound, as gloved hands press clean gauzes on it and bandage it, the right balance between keeping pressure on the wound and not hurting the damaged tissue. Observing his own handiwork, Ianto allows himself a small smirk, and hands him the atropine injector.

"So, this poison." He injects himself, hoping it will be enough to slow the spread. "What exactly does it do?" The cloud of concern on Ianto's face makes him warm inside, wanting to run a hand along that well-defined jawline and kiss the kid senseless.

"The Garg'kats need bodies. Need them alive. They bite, they poison, they generally drag their prey back to their ship, where they use it as an incubator for their young." Ianto doesn't even flinch, despite the horror showing in his face. "The poison is designed to keep the body alive for as long as possible, until the process they put it through destroys it completely."

"Doesn't sound much like a poison." Barely a whisper as the kid passes him a long bandage tied in a makeshift sling before putting the first aid materials away and folding his torn jacket. He takes a deep breath, fighting the pain in every inch of his body, as he wonders how much more to tell Ianto.

"It hurts like Hell. Blood on fire kind of Hell. No painkiller in this time will help, so don't even bother offering." Eye Candy looks at him in surprise. "They'll only cloud my mind."

"Then why don't I feel it?" He shakes the bracelet on his wrist, a pensive look on his face. "If they propagate emotions and ideas on a basic level, why not the pain?" He smiles, and shakes his head, not knowing what to make of Ianto in this precise moment. "I can tell you are wounded, I can tell your shoulder hurts, but nothing else."

"Because he's shielding you." Jack's voice booms as he opens the boot and starts rummaging. "John's always been good at grinding his teeth and pretending he's all right, even when he most definitely isn't."

"Thank you, Jack, it's good to see you still appreciate my talents." The bitterness in his voice surprises him. He blames it on the poison, but not even he can believe that.

"Now, Ianto, if you are done with John's wounds, we still have Very Nasty Aliens to catch." Without another word, Jack slams the rear door shut and walks away again. With a sigh, John slides his arm on the sling and opens the door. Ianto places a hand on his good shoulder, stopping him.

"That's why you are helping us, isn't it?" He doesn't answer. "You knew what these things would do to Jack, the torture it would mean if they got him" He swallows the knot in his throat. "That's why you risked it like that earlier" He waits, a heartbeat, two, three, not sure how – or whether – to answer the implicit questions in Ianto's voice.

"Love makes fools out of us all," he mutters as he gets out of the SUV. He hopes Ianto doesn't hear. He knows he has.

Countermeasure

It shouldn't have happened. John should never have been inside that forcefield. But he was. Because John could never follow orders, not matter who they came from, but particularly never from him. And now he's been bitten. With an angry growl, Jack kicks the ground, lifting a small cloud of dust. He could try and tell himself John shouldn't have been anywhere near here in the first place, but it wouldn't help. As much as he would have preferred to keep him in the vaults, Ianto was right: they need all the help they can get to deal with this. So John's part of the team, at least for now. And he's supposed to keep his team safe. Even sarcastic, psychopathic ex-lovers.

Webley drawn, he makes his way around the energy cell, looking for any creature that may have escaped during the battery swap. He really hates these things, and that is not something he says often. But Garg'kats are really nasty things to have at one's doorstep... Particularly when he knows they shouldn't be anywhere near this solar system. Not yet, anyway. Did this never make the history books because, somehow, Torchwood averted disaster? Or are the timelines being changed? He shakes his head. First, deal with the immediate danger. Then, answer the thorny questions.

It takes a more thorough sweep than usual before he is convinced they are all still inside the forcefield and starts making his way back to the SUV, still trying to figure out exactly how they can get rid of this "immediate danger". Sometimes he misses 51st century weaponry.

John seems to be awake again. Not that it means much with a Garg'kat bite; the poison is supposed to keep him alive. He shouldn't have left Ianto with him – he's smart, he'll put it all together even if John doesn't give him any more pieces of the puzzle. And Ianto won't like the final picture when he gets it, and he will get that silent glare he's come to identify as the 'you should have told me, the more I know the better I can help' look. The one that never fails to make him feel a bit guilty. Because Ianto is right, most of the times. Still, there are things he'd rather not have to tell him.

Still a few steps away, he watches as Ianto tends to John's wound, expert hands moving carefully around the damage, cleaning, treating, bandaging. It still surprises him how good Ianto is at patching people up. He must have paid attention while Owen dealt with his own injuries, rather than be dragged into the usual sarcasm matches the medic would start with the rest of them. The ones Owen used to hide his concern behind. He takes a couple of steps forward, trying not to get caught in yet another review of the very long list of people he's lost over the years - it won't help right now. There is a time for mourning, and the middle of a crisis that could change the course of History most definitely isn't it.

He cringes when John tells Ianto about the poison and refuses painkillers that won't have any effect. Soldiering on as if nothing were wrong. Not quite John's usual style. Not that John has something that could be defined as "usual style", other than whatever gets him the most money, sex, alcohol and drugs. Sneaky, adaptable, and good at reading people. The perfect conman. Only this time John actually seems... honest. He snorts. Honest is a word that never applied to John Hart.

"Then why don't I feel it?" Once again, Ianto asks just the right question. One that he's certain John doesn't want to answer, because it probably comes too close to calling his bluff or revealing he actually, for once in his life, means what he's saying. He's not sure he can deal with that right now. "If they propagate emotions and ideas on a basic level, why not the pain? I can tell you are wounded, I can tell your shoulder hurts, but nothing else."

"Because he's shielding you." He opens the boot of the SUV, pretending to look for some weapon or another, knowing John won't even thank him for interrupting. He gives Ianto his best don't-you-worry smile. "John's always been good at grinding his teeth and pretending he's all right, even when he most definitely isn't."

"Thank you, Jack, it's good to see you still appreciate my talents." Yep, there it is, John's trademark 'I had it all under control until you showed up' sarcasm... The one he's never quite believed. He pulls a face at John, who just rolls his eyes at him.

"Now, Ianto, if you are done with John's wounds, we still have Very Nasty Aliens to catch." He slams the rear door shut, not sure he wants to confront the look on Ianto's face right now, as he pieces it all together and realizes that John may be letting through more than he's saying.

"That's why you are helping us, isn't it?" Ianto's voice sounds full of surprise. He's got to give it to John, not many people manage that. He walks away, not wanting to hear John's reply. Some things, he's better off not knowing.