9

He scans the faces. The clerk, disappointed, taps some keys. "Two adults, let me see... I'm afraid I can't get you seats till the morning."

A grill bar. A rank of vending machines. Ianto moves through the seating area as if drawn. Now over the ambient noise, we isolate the cry of a baby. Ianto is following the sound to its source. He finds a blue woman shushing her infant. The woman looks up and smiles. Ianto just stands there, awe-struck. Jack now comes up to reclaim him. He's about to ask why he wandered off when he turns to him. He sees his eyes are brimming with tears.

Tears of joy and sorrow. It's the first time he's seen a baby.

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Jack and Ianto sit waiting. Jack, rigid, watchful. Ianto, gazing across at the Mexican woman, who as the infant cradled asleep. Ianto glances wistfully at Jack.

Then he frowns "what is that? On your face?"

Jack turns, touching his face. He feels stubble there. For the first time. His body is naturalizing but it feels unnatural to him. Ianto's is doing the same.

Without the pills to control their natural development, they are beginning to produce hormones. Ianto reaches out and runs his fingers across his cheek. Jack stiffens a little, new to this type of contact. But his touch is gentle and the contact is warming. Their eyes slowly meet, flickering, something passing between them. Jack notes Ianto has the same peppering on his cheek and reaches to stroke it with wonder.

Then Ianto's face contorts slightly. He emits a shallow cough.

"Are you alright?" Jack asks as Ianto clears his throat. But another cough follows.

"My throat... it feels dry"

"Okay... I'll get you some water." Jack soothes but the grill bar is closed. Only the vending machines are active. Jack considers them. Not unlike those he used to know. He finds one that offers water bottles. The sign reads "Arctic Melt". He pulls out his blue card and looks for the slot. Then pauses, picking up his reflection in the glass. He examines the shadowy growth on his face. Then he notices his eyes. They seem to be darkening. The pupils, welling open. Then he feels it. The sense of danger, surging up like a geyser.

Ianto sits waiting, anxious now, coughing persistently. Hearing footfalls, he looks round. But the face that greets him is not Jack. It's the pale man, the one who chased them. Before he can react, he forcefully pulls him upright, tapping his earpiece "Piece of cake, Burnie. John Doe's in the bag. Keep an eye out for John-Boy."

Ianto looks around in panic. Faces turn but none of them are Jack's. Arty confronts the spectators, flashing a badge "Bond recovery... state license."

He marches his quarry towards the exit. Now he starts to struggle and he jerks him back, slapping a cuff onto his wrist "Play nice, little one. Now you want to tell me where your boyfriend is?"

"Behind you."

"What?" Arts squeaks as Jack's fist flies into the pale man as he turns - dropping him, flat-on-his-ass - pulling Ianto away from him. Arty is more insulted than hurt, targeting his quarry who suddenly duck down as he fires and the blue woman has her face peppered with tranquilizer core as her baby starts crying.

Ianto is horrified by the screaming woman, the bloody, slack grimace, the baby bawling and Jack pulling is him down as Ianto's last glimpse of the screaming woman and the howling baby disappears behind the corner Jack is dragging him around.

Jack and Ianto hurtle towards a pedestrian bridge trying to outpace their pursuers, Lester levels his weapon, angling a shot.

Jack pulls Ianto across the road, vehicles braking to avoid collision as Jack sees an opening ahead. They run onward, glancing off dumpsters. Arty and Lester pouring on the speed, their quarry with nowhere to run then Jack sees another opening.

A narrow access, barely lit, hard to see is a sudden dead-end and they hit a chain-link fence, the links shuddering. Jack looks up and sees it's scalable, fingers grab into the links as he climbs. Ianto tries to follow but is shaken by coughing, fighting to breathe, his limbs shaking, his muscles failing then the fence is suddenly alive with electricity and Jack is jolted by the sudden shock, muscles in reflex - falling - landing the far side of the fence.

The jolt instantly toppling Ianto back, landing the near side of the fence more rattled than hurt.

Recovering from the fall, Jack rises to see Ianto cowering, coughing as Lester yanks him up by his hair like a greedy Viking - he looks through the fence at Jack - sniffing him, almost devilish.

"Go ahead. I'll look after him" he calls to Jack.

Ianto is coughing, barking as his fingers snag on the man's arm-brace and Lester yelps, flinging Ianto into the fence and dropping the weapon and Jack is clambering up the fence forced to face the dark giant who is already on his feet.

A storm of punches thrown at Jack by his attacker, ducking and blocking until he is now backed up against the fence.

Ianto has the weapon, trying to work the mechanism while coughing with hands shaking and accidentally touching the trigger. Enough of a distraction for Jack who lands a punch and Lester cracks the back of his head, his knees buckling and then the quarry is lost from sight.

Jack and Ianto race down the sidewalk, along a construction hoarding. Ianto slows, folding over, panting. Jack looks at him, his lips, blue, his face, pale. The sirens, getting louder. He sees a gap in the hoarding.

Jack and Ianto emerge through the gap onto a derelict site. A once public park, now a construction site. Mounds and craters of earth. Dim shapes of huge vehicles, like sleeping dragons. Patches of parkland, as yet untouched. Bowed palms, dead grass, a stagnant lagoon, a dull mirror for the ascendant moon. On its shoreline is a dilapidated construct that was once a boathouse.

Jack helps Ianto onto a rotted bench. He slumps down, exhausted, Jack watches him, helplessly. He's fighting for breath, wheezing and coughing in deep rasps. "I can't... I can't breathe... my throat... it's so... dry"

"I'll find you some water." Jack promises and hunts, finds a rusted metal box. Pries it open, empties the contents. Gauzes, Band-Aids - evidently a first-aid box - then a bottle. He opens it, sniffs. It smells pungent. Alcohol, not water. Ianto suddenly starts sobbing. Jack return "It's going to be okay, Ianto."

"No... no, it isn't" Ianto gasps out painfully.

"I'll find you some water, okay?" Ianto looks up at him, wheezing, tears streaming

"What if they find us?"

"Then we'll keep going." Jack answers as he folds Ianto into his arms.

"I can't... I can't run anymore" Ianto folds over, sobbing and coughing at the same time. Pitiful to watch. Jack crouches, gaining his attention.

"We'll keep going till we get there" Jack says slowly and Ianto traps a sob, reading his eyes, something reviving in him.

"The Island... You mean, The Island?" Jack answers with a brief smile. If this will keep him going then the truth is redundant.

"Now I'm going to get some water. But I want you to stay here. It'll be safer." Jack slowly releases him.

Ianto wipes away his tears, sniffing. He breathes, calming. "Don't go yet. Stay with me, Jack. Stay with me for a little while."

Jack looks puzzled by Ianto's request. Even more puzzled as he rests his head on his shoulder, nestling into his neck. He feels him against him. The warmth spreading through him again. His arm reaching, as if of its own accord, closing around him. It feels right somehow. And there he stays, holding him, looking out across the dessert.

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An apartment building towers overhead, vaguely menacing. Jack approaches the entrance with Ianto. We now see he has a pale patch of skin where his wristband was, so does Ianto.

The doorman opens the door and holds it for them. Jack reaches for Ianto's hand. Then stiffly leads him inside. Jack and Ianto proceed up the corridor. They stop at a door. Jack checks the number. Pauses heavily. Then looks for some type of doorbell. As his eyes cross the orb, it seems to blink. Then comes a sound of disengaging locks. Then the door swings open. Jack flinches, taken by surprise. Then frowns as he sees there is no one on the other side of the door.

Jack enters, wary, scanning around. A living room. Framed pictures. A sofa, chairs. A coffee table, empty bottles, cigarette packs, a full ashtray. A bureau, some paperwork. Silence, stillness. No sign of life, no sense of danger. Jack moves across to the bureau and starts leafing through the papers. Ianto ventures in through the door, curious "What are you looking for? Why are we here? What is this place?"

"I don't know." Jack mutters, "Something. Just wait there and make sure nobody's coming."

As he leafs the papers, Ianto waits dutifully by the door. His eyes wander across the framed pictures. Then narrow onto a 3D photograph. A college boxing team photo, grinning cup winners. "Look at this"

Jack returns as Ianto points to the photo. A face in the row, blurred but eerily familiar. Jack seems not to react. Ianto, curiosity piqued, scans the other pictures. "Thomas R. Jackson, Attorney-at-Law".

"What the hell are you doing?" Jack turns to confront someone in a robe. Dishevelled from sleep, grey from a hangover, the man's face is unmistakably his own. This is Jackson, sponsor of Jack Six-Echo, his bleary eyes now widening in disbelief as he recognizes his agnate.

Jack is better prepared for this encounter but still stunned by the sight of his double in the flesh. Sponsor and agnate stand frozen. The only movement is Ianto, his eyes flicking between the same men, fraught, confused. Jack breaks the silence "Who are you?"

Jack steps closer, eyes piercing. Jackson takes a step back. "They said... I'd never have to see you."

"Who?" Jack takes another step closer.

"The people"

"What people?" Jack takes another step closer. Jack examines him, adapting. His double seems to be as belligerent as he is. Reasoning now, threat response kicking in. Jack draws the hunting knife. Unused to it, he points it like a gun. But it's enough of a threat for Jackson, who swallows dryly.

"Why are you here? What do you want?"

Jack growls softly.

Jackson gapes. That face. His face. If not for the pounding headache this would be a bad dream. He lowers onto the sofa. Finds a cigarette and lights up. A drag, mind kicking in. The knife cautioning him. With a slow exhale, he confesses "One of the partners at my firm... he told me about it. Gave me a referral. I thought he was joking at first. I went out there, took the sales tour. Even before that I knew it wasn't a joke. There was this discretion agreement. I never saw anything like it and I've seen a lot. Ironclad... breathe a word and they've got you by the balls. I don't know... There's cancer in my family. Maybe it was just to keep up. All the partners were on the policy."

"The policy?"

"Christ, you have no idea, do you?" Jackson snorts.

"About what?"

Jackson drags his cigarette, fingers trembling. He shakes his head "I can't fucking do this."

"What are you talking about?" Jack moves closer, pointing the knife.

Jackson flinches, then "Insurance. You're an insurance policy."

What is that?"

"Health insurance... medical" Jackson huffs, "If I get sick... if part of me gets sick... I take a healthy part from you."