FAITH MANAGES PART NINE
"Ianto? Do you ever think about God?"
He was back in the black again and Owen as ever was there perched on his wall, in his favourite leather jacket and jeans. How was it that he could see the clothes or the man himself? Surely he was nothing but a radioactive soup of energy now?
Ianto looked down at himself, naked as the day he was born.
"No. How come you get clothes?"
Owen sniggered. "Not a clue mate. I was wearing these in the power plant..... what 's that quote from 'the matrix'?"
"Residual self image?"
"That's the one! Maybe it's that."
Ianto sighed. "So why am I naked?"
"Do I want to know the answer to that? You're not dead. I mean you've still got a body and I am guessing that where ever you are you're in your birthday suit?"
Ianto nodded taking no comfort from the comment.
"How do I fix this Owen? How do I get out of this trap?"
Owen was picking at his nails. "Wait to be rescued."
"I didn't mean that. I meant this.... this emptiness."
"It's obvious."
"It is?"
Owen looked at him and shook his head in resignation. "You really are thick you know."........
"No I am not.....Not stupid. Stop please...... Jack help me."
Ianto juddered awake to a pair of eyes looking down into his through a hazmat mask. He panicked and tried to move, but he was restrained again.
"It's alright Mr Jones.... it's going to be alright, my name is Ciara I'm from UNIT. I'm here to get you out." Her tone wasn't remotely reassuring, but then he saw a familiar face smiling at him.
"Martha?"
"Hey Ianto."
It wasn't Martha and he watched with horror as another needle was held up.... not UNIT.... what the fuck was going on?
"No! Stop... please stop."
His eyes shuttered down his body gave out on him, but he could still hear and feel the coldness of the metal against his back.
"I thought you said that would calm him down?"
"Well it was worth a try. He's rambling on about an Owen. This last batch is definitely causing delusional behaviour, we need to increase the dose, each of his death states are lasting longer now so we can get better more comprehensive readings. I'd like to implant the recording device today so prep him for surgery."
"You think we're ready for that stage?"
"Yes. Go in through the skull.... here." Ianto felt rough hands on his head, turning it non too gently and then a pressure just above his left ear. "We'll do the op in here I can't risk any exposure, the virus is still active in his system, his death states are not eliminating it anymore."
"So what, it has mutated to cope with his immune system?"
"I don't know, I'm hoping the blood work will tell me that, now get the equipment I need in here now and also a shot of the antidote, I'll need to test that after we've implanted the recorder."
Ianto tried to open his eyes, to move his muscles and he wondered vaguely how on earth he was still breathing when nothing else appeared to work. He sighed and concentrated all his will on opening his eyes and slowly the light filtered in as he struggled to open them. The restraints were no longer tight around his shins and wrists and he twitched his toes. It took tremendous effort, but he wiggled them able to feel his nerves tingling and warming his body.
"Come on Tea Boy.... Jack can do this so you can you! You have to move mate.... you have to! Heal thyself you twat, you have do it now. Come on!"
Ianto gritted his teeth trying not to respond to Owen's voice with a sarcastic retort and he focussed his energy, could feel it coursing through his veins like acid.... It fucking hurt... the broken glass again and he hadn't even died.
"That's it! Keep going!"
Ianto heaved in a steady deep breath and slowly blew it out, opening his eyes again and now desperately trying to appear immobile as he watched the suited figure moving about. Their back was facing him a trail of air hoses coming from the back of the suit. Ianto tested his leg and discovered that it was actually completely free of the cuffs. He put it back down and closed his eyes once again gathering himself. Healing. Focussing.
The black SUV slid into place behind a skip and came to an abrupt stop. Jack unbuckled his seat belt and faced Elliot.
"You wait here."
Elliot glared at him but accepted the order without protest "Just get my Tad back, please." He swung round in his seat to face Jack's team members. "Thank you for coming to help us."
Ranjan and Aaron both grinned at him. "You are welcome." Ranjan replied getting out of the vehicle and slinging his pack of gadgets. Elliot watched as the three men strode purposefully away. He then pulled out his father's journal from under his hoodie and flicked through the pages.
"Hang on Tad, they're coming for you. Please hang on."
He opened the book somewhat at random, it was a recent entry.
April 12th. I think it's a Monday. Elliot was playing 'the Levellers' this morning and singing incredibly loudly and playing his guitar. The neighbours complained but to be honest I don't care. I love listening to him, he loves music so much and he's good. I am going to miss him so much when he goes to Oxford. He asked if we could move house together so that we could both live up in Oxford, but I told him he needed to do this by himself. I don't want to hold him back, but I am very glad he took a year long break from school first. We've had a couple of good holidays together, he's been dragging me around the various music festivals and I have to admit that I have really enjoyed it. Jack and I never did things like that, I could never convince him to escape Cardiff even for a day. I think Elliot is disappointed that I am staying in Wales, but I told him that there was plenty of term breaks and that I would take all my holidays during those breaks. I guess I am lucky saving up all the Torchwood money. I don't actually need to work.
I just want to see Elliot to continue growing and find the world for himself. He's still determined to become a Catholic priest. I can't argue with him. I can see he is really serious about it. He certainly knows a lot about it, understands the commitment it entails. I told him that I was worried that he'd be sacrificing a normal life and he just said that he loved God more and felt he could do more good that way. I don't get it.... I don't suppose I ever will. I think all the things I have seen over the years have shattered my religious leanings. Jack and I are direct contradictions..... we are everlasting life.... but this is no heaven and it most certainly doesn't come from leading a life without sin, quite the opposite in fact. I wonder if really it isn't Hell, eternal damnation. I don't believe that either.
I'm on the edge of something I do not understand and I am afraid. Jack was always banging on about the 21st century changing. I think he is right. I can feel it in my bones. Something is coming and we are totally unprepared. I don't know how I know this. Jack of course knows from history.... his history, not mine. Perhaps this energy that keeps me undying is something that connects us and I am picking up these impressions and feelings from him. I don't have those answers.... not sure I want them. So long as Elliot is safe and can live his life to its full potential whatever that may be.
I told my sister.... finally I told her the truth about me..... actually I lied through my teeth because I told her I just wanted to be left alone.... she somehow cottoned on and guessed that something fundamental had happened and then she asked the obvious.... why hadn't I aged? So then I told her the truth. She slapped me really hard and told me to stop with the lies. We argued and then I left her house in tears because I know I can never see her again. I moved house three weeks later. Elliot and I now live in an old farmhouse out near Brecon of all the bloody places I could choose. We still stay at my old house in Cardiff near to the Hub, but my Family hasn't contacted me there. I guess they've had enough of me now. It's probably for the best. I miss them, especially my nieces and Mam. Elliot still visits them, thank God.... he doesn't have to pretend. Here I am thanking a God I do not believe in once again... as Tommy once said 'how daft is that?'
'The first steps are always the hardest' is what my mam used to say to me when my Tad died. She wasn't wrong about that.
