Coming Home

A/N An episode called Coming Home – what a surprise!

Here's something to make you all feel a little better. One more chapter to come after this. This whole homecoming thing ended up being another saga all on its own, like that's a surprise to anyone. This is all my own work now.

Still no word on Harrie – sweetie if you're out there you might like to let me know all is okay. I'm guessing it's just computer problems again, but with you… I just don't know. :-) I worry.

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Jan 6th

'Jack. Jack!' Tosh was screaming. 'Jack, it's Ianto.' She waved the phone wildly. 'Gwen, Owen. It's Ianto. He's all right. He's alive. Oh.' She suddenly sat down. 'Thank God!'

The others were crowding around, Jack hanging back, staring at her dumbstruck. 'Hang on sweetheart,' she told the receiver, 'Sorry.' She jammed her finger in her other ear. 'Where are you?'

She looked up at the others. 'Peru?'

All hell broke loose in the hub. The feeling of relief was palpable.

'All right. All right, I'm listening. What do you need?' Tosh was pulling up phone logs and maps with one hand while holding the phone with the other and somehow motioning for everyone to keep quiet.

'Okay.

'Uh huh.

'What?! How badly are you hurt?'

They all blanched.

'No. All right. Okay. Can you give me a number where we can get back to you?

'I see.' Her voice went cold. Something started flashing on her monitor.

'I've traced the call. So you're at the police headquarters in Portaleza? Don't you worry. I'll get someone there real soon. We'll get you out. And we'll get you home.

Suddenly there were tears in Tosh's eyes. 'It's January the 6th Ianto. You've been gone six days.

'Yes,' she whispered joyfully. 'See you soon.'

She held up her hand to forestall the flood of questions pulling up a map on her screen. 'He's all right,' she told them. 'At least he says he is, more or less.' She pointed to a map of Peru and zoomed it in on a mountainous region near the border with Bolivia. 'Ianto said he materialised on the side of a mountain in this region three days ago. It's taken him this long to get to somewhere with a phone. The trouble is, since he's wearing a suit, they seem to think he might be a spy. They're holding him at the police station which sounds fairly primitive.'

'Did you say he was hurt?' Owen asked.

'Yes. He hurt his knee and his shoulder while climbing down mountains. He's worried that they might try to treat it where he is. He's refusing. We have to get him out to a medical facility. He doesn't know how bad things are but he's in a lot of pain.' She glanced up to where Jack was standing white faced hanging on to the railing behind him. 'It can't be too bad,' she said soothingly. 'He had to walk a long way to where he is now.' None of them took a lot of cheer from that. They all knew how stubborn Ianto could be.

'So what do we need to do?' Gwen asked.

Tosh instinctively looked to Jack to see if he'd take the lead but he still looked completely stunned. 'I'll get on to UNIT, see if they can get a plane in there. We'll have to talk to the Peruvian government, we don't want a diplomatic incident. Gwen can you get on to Americans in case we need their assistance. Tell them we have an operative in trouble, just say we can't divulge what he was doing there but he's injured and we need to get him out.'

Jack suddenly took a breath and straightened up. 'I'll phone the Prime Minister. Let's see what services our people can throw at it.' He turned on his heel and strode off to his office. He didn't see the relieved looks the others were giving each other.

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Back in Peru Ianto was hit by such a feeling of relief that he started to shake. In the three days it had taken him to get down the mountain he hadn't known which world he was in. But now he'd spoken with Tosh, a Tosh who not only knew him but was surprised to hear from him because he'd been taken by the rift, not surprised to hear from him because actually he was standing right beside her or making coffee or just down in the archives. And it was January 6th and he'd been missing six days.

He was in the right universe.

He was only standing on one leg anyway but now that was incapable of holding him up. The strange little man who seemed to be a police chief looked thoroughly alarmed and started shouting as Ianto fell down.

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Jan 10th

Ianto had long since passed through exhaustion. He was now in a nauseous, hyper sensitive state of alert catatonia. The fact that he could come up with that string of words to describe how he was feeling was proof that he hadn't stopped functioning all together but that it surely wouldn't be long. He squirmed in his seat unconsciously; well aware that there was no position that was comfortable and nothing that would relieve the pain in his leg. A position change only meant the difference between agonising throbbing or stabbing burning pain, he couldn't say which was worse. On top of that he had a headache that throbbed in counterpoint to his knee and nearly in syncopation with the engine vibration. There were only hours left now of this excruciating ride. Soon, before the sun set tonight he would be home.

Home.

Back in his Cardiff. Back with Jack. Back with Tosh and Gwen and Owen who would greet him enthusiastically and Owen would give him something for pain. He couldn't give in to relief. Not quite yet.

Ianto had had a rough few days.

Pete had said that he couldn't guarantee where in the world he would appear. He had never however imagined that he would arrive, dropping somehow out of empty air several feet above a rough rocky mountain slope. He'd tumbled and rolled, been bruised and cut and his suit torn until he'd fetched up in a gully. He'd felt sick and he hurt so much it took him a while to decide that he wasn't actually badly injured at all. It hadn't been as bad as arriving in Rose's world via a rift storm – but it was still pretty bad.

The next two days were hell. With no idea where he was and with completely inadequate clothing and footwear he had started making his way down, following a small stream. It wasn't easy. It was obviously not an English stream on an English mountain. The mountain was very steep and the rocks jagged and sharp. He'd slipped and wrenched his shoulder trying to jump between boulders to cross the rushing water. Climbing out had been very difficult. Although he didn't think it was dislocated it was certainly wrenched and any movement of his shoulder was agony and his arm was useless. He managed to make a sling from his tie and kept going. He'd huddled in the space under an overhang where the ground was a little sandy when it got dark and shivered until morning. He still didn't know which world or even which universe he was in. He wanted to go home – to Rose.

The next day he got below the tree line where animal tracks wove through the forest. It was a very foreign looking forest. He had no idea what sort of animals might have made the trails. Goats possibly, hopefully. There were hundreds of other possibilities, especially if he wasn't on his own world. One trail seemed wider than the others, might possibly be, he thought hopefully, a pack track. It was going downhill. He followed it. Then on the next stream crossing, unbalanced by his useless arm he slipped again and crashed forward landing hard on the jagged rocks, with a terrible crunch of his right knee. A piece of rock sliced right through his trousers and deep into his flesh. Thankfully there was little blood but the pain was unbearable.

Wet again, shivering and terrified he lay on the track for several hours hoping the flaring pain would subside enough to let him keep moving. He couldn't get to his feet, quite definitely couldn't walk, his knee graunched when it moved. He wouldn't allow himself to believe he could have been shot across time and dimensional space to die of exposure on some awful mountain. At what was possibly his lowest point on that mountain a string of pack horses appeared around the corner of the trail.

The rest of the trip to civilisation had been painful and slightly confusing, but at least he knew that he wasn't going to die. His rescuer, a travelling salesman called Targo had held a gun on him most of the trip. He had very few words of English and kept repeating "James Bond". Ianto decided that he wasn't sharing his love of the British film industry and concluded that the man thought he was a spy.

It is very difficult to ride a horse with a wrenched shoulder and a broken knee. Targo's gun was a little pointless. Ianto couldn't even fall off the horse on his own.

When Targo delivered him to what Ianto assumed was a Police station he didn't give a damn that they wanted to lock him in a cell. All he wanted to do was lie down.

They weren't unkind.

They weren't helpful either although the word doctor or similar was mentioned.

No one spoke English. The short little man with the huge moustache who seemed to be in charge finally got the idea that Ianto would like to use the telephone. And he eventually agreed to let him use it. It was in his office. He didn't seem to think that Ianto might need to sit down. When he fell down after making his call however he called in several of his cronies and they carried Ianto back to the cell, laid him on the wooden bench and covered him in roughly woven heavy wool blankets. Shaking and shocked Ianto hadn't been able to express his gratitude.

Although the shaking had stopped he was still lying there in the nest of blankets when the American's arrived. There were two of them, a man and a woman and they introduced themselves as Marines. Carol and Danny, probably not their real names. Rank, surname or serial numbers were never mentioned. They checked his name though. Ianto struggled to sit up and the woman pushed him back down, asked where he was injured and proceeded to give him a cursory once over. She manipulated his shoulder, moving his arm around while he tried not to moan. When she pulled up his trouser leg however and saw his hugely swollen knee she didn't even attempt to touch it. 'Can you move it?' she asked. When he answered in the negative she nodded as if that was what she expected. She left the cell and he could hear the clicks and static of a radio conversation.

'Right,' she said when they came back in. 'We're leaving.' They didn't ask any questions about what a Welshman in a suit was doing in the back blocks of Peru, so he didn't ask anything about what the Marines were doing there either. Funny though that they were close enough to drive here in a humvee arriving barely eight hours after he'd called Cardiff for help. Carol offered him an injection for pain. Ianto accepted. A proper sling was put on his arm and as the heavy duty painkillers kicked in dissolving his bones the two Americans carried him out to the massive SUV and poured him, stifling giggles into a hastily cleared space in the back. Ianto thought he saw money changing hands and then the funny policeman was racing over and thrusting one of the blankets at him in the back. 'Best 'oollen,' the man insisted. Ianto giggled again and accepted the gift.

It was dark. As soon as the vehicle started moving Ianto pulled up his blanket and went to sleep.

When he woke it was day time and the vehicle was speeding down a tarsealed highway through rough looking farmland. He was feeling flushed and overheated still wrapped in his blanket. The painkillers were a distant memory when they pulled off the highway down a dirt road that magically blossomed into a huge military airfield a few miles later. Pulling up at a guard house they were directed out onto the runway where a Hercules transport aircraft was waiting with its engines running and the ramp down.

The vehicle stopped and Ianto managed to get out and stand on his one good leg as several aircrew poured out of the plane. 'Ianto Jones?' the leader confirmed. Ianto nodded. 'Welcome aboard sir. My crew will do everything we can to assist you on the flight but I'm afraid it won't be very comfortable. We have a full cargo load and the only seating is the fold out seats along the side of the fuse.' He peered at him. 'We can fix up a stretcher rack if we have to. We are equipped to carry casualties. Will you be needing that?'

'I'm sure I'll be fine.' Ianto tried to smile. 'Thank you. I'm just pleased to be going home.'

If he'd realised he was going to be on that bloody plane for the next thirty six hours he would have taken the option of the stretcher.

The droning vibration of the engines had worked its way into his bones. His internal organs vibrated with it and it reverberated painfully through his skull. There was no way to rest perched upright on the awful canvas sling seats that folded out of the side of the fuselage. There was nowhere to lie down. It was as close to torture as he had ever come. He was very pleased of his blanket as plane seemed to fly through hot followed by cold air. It was never comfortable.

The plane landed roughly every six to eight hours as it worked its slow way up the Americas. One stop may or may not have been at Guantanamo Bay. No one ever suggested he have his passport checked. Very curious. At each stop the plane was refuelled and the crew changed. Ianto was offered the chance to get off and stretch his legs. He couldn't walk. The offer of a stretcher was never made again.

Each new crew came back with a bag of sandwiches and a bottle of water for him. Continuously nauseous he left the sandwiches but did try to drink the water. No one spoke to him beyond a greeting and a farewell. The pain from his knee was unrelenting. There was no comfortable way of sitting. His shoulder only hurt if he inadvertently moved it. That tended to happen a lot when turbulence made the plane lurch and he automatically tried to steady himself. Very early into the trip his whole body ached from the way he was seated. He couldn't help it, he thought longingly of airship travel and the Torchwood hospital ship.

Here on this world this whole episode was just something that had to be endured. But now, finally they were crossing the Atlantic. He was nearly there. Still missing Rose, he was going home to Jack. His mind seemed to float in a dream filled space that wasn't close enough to sleep to let him escape his discomfort.

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The Hercules made a graceful decent into a military airbase in Wales. Ianto had deduced by now that the cargo, whatever it was, crates and crates of boxes of it, was destined for an airbase in Scotland. What they could be carrying from Peru to Scotland was a total mystery, coffee perhaps? As the plane taxied to a stop a crewmember came back and helped Ianto untangle himself from his Peruvian blanket and get to his feet. He swayed, dangerously close to fainting, feeling the sweat prickle the back of his neck. He could not; he simply would not break down now. With the American acting as a crutch they made their slow way to the door at the front. Ianto could barely move, it wasn't just his leg, his whole body had frozen from sitting so long. He was dizzy and weak. As another crew member opened the door Ianto could see the familiar black SUV sitting on the side of the tarmac and his heart gave a jolt. Four figures stood in front of it in vee formation, Jack in the front.

The picture etched into his brain. His eyes filled with tears and he had to swallow hard.

As they saw him the "usual formation" broke up. Gwen and Owen broke into a run, Tosh just behind them. Jack stood there wooden; his eyes locked with Ianto's, his jaw set, like a bad actor trying to portray intense emotion. As the others charged up the stairs to reach him Ianto saw Jack start and then he was lost in the scrum of his colleagues' hugs. Overwhelmed Ianto just concentrated on staying upright. 'Easy,' he heard Owen say, 'he's injured.' Owen took the place of the crewman and semi carried him down the stairs. With two steps to go Jack was suddenly there, his eyes wide, looking as if he wasn't sure he was real.

'Jack,' Ianto breathed and suddenly he was in his arms and it really was Jack. His strong arms held him upright and his warmth and presence wrapped around him and Ianto felt himself melt. 'Oh God I'm back.'

They clung to each other and Ianto just knew that if Jack let go he wouldn't survive.

'Jack,' it was Owen again. 'Come on Jack. Let's get him to the car. Come on. He's going to collapse.' It was too late.

Ianto was still vaguely aware of things as they carried him over to where the SUV was parked, the girls close, patting him, tears all round. Everyone really believed he had been lost forever. His world was going in and out of focus and he wasn't sure why he didn't just give in and sink into oblivion. It might have been that he knew now that oblivion was a scary place to be. 'Come on,' Owen urged them. 'Jesus Teaboy, you're burning up.'

Am I?

Ianto sobbed with relief when they lay him down on the grass beside the runway. Fighting Jack out of the way Owen ran his scanner over him. 'Shit, you've got an infection somewhere. Let's get you back to the Hub so I can look at you properly.' Owen and Jack hauled him up again and Ianto screamed. They manoeuvred him into the back seat, everyone apologising for hurting him. Jack climbed in with him and held him in his arms. 'You want something for pain mate?' Owen asked.

'Please.' Ianto whimpered.

As the drug took effect and his body started that dissolving thing he melted back against Jack. He could finally relax. He was home and Jack would keep him safe. He let himself float away.

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It took Owen the briefest most cursory exam to tell him what he knew anyway. 'Yan mate,' his trouser leg was rolled up showing his purple swollen joint to everyone, the wound where the rock had slashed it oozing pus, 'Your shoulder's one thing, I think that will come right on its own but this needs surgery. I thought you'd broken your patella but it's not that at all. You've cracked the bone but it's still whole, the trouble is there's something in there and it's infected. It needs opening up and debriding.'

'Can you fix it?' Jack asked.

'I don't know. I'm not an orthopaedic surgeon. It might be better to have someone who really knows what they're doing. I could probably clear the infection but I don't like the thought of messing about in his joint.'

Ianto lay back on the autopsy table cursing under his breath. Bugger. Just lying down felt wonderful. Now he knew he had a temperature he felt really shivery and ill, before he'd been blaming all his discomfort on the plane ride. And now his journey wasn't over, he wasn't going to get to go home. He couldn't even stay here just lying down. There was one thing however that he really wanted and could probably have. Awkwardly he lifted himself on his good elbow. 'Can I have a shower before you operate? Please. I haven't had a shower since...'

'Yan, did you not understand. I don't think I can operate. You need to go to hospital.'

'Just fix it up. I want to go home.'

Jack's hand tightened on his. Even with his eyes shut Ianto could feel the looks everyone was throwing each other. 'Ianto,' Jack said, 'you don't want to end up losing the use of your knee. You're going to hospital.'

So if Ianto was Jack's sanity that obviously made Jack his keeper too. 'Stay with me?'

'Of course,' Jack said.

'Can I have a shower first?'

'I'll help you,' Jack told him. He looked to Owen.

'Sure. If you think you can manage. I'll get on to the hospital while you do that, talk to the surgeon. The cleaner you are the better and right now mate, well you're not exactly smelling of roses.'

Everyone looked at Ianto strangely when he started to laugh.

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Jack used the old wheelchair to get Ianto to the staff showers. There was no way he could get him down to his private bathroom. While he'd much rather have him in his own domain it didn't actually matter. After a short flurry of helping the others left them alone. Gwen found one of the tractor seat stools that were around the Hub in odd places and put it in the shower for him. Tosh brought towels and Ianto's spare set of clothes from his locker then left the two of them alone.

Jack was very pleased to have some time alone to collect his own shattered psyche. He still couldn't believe that Ianto was here. Even when he knew he was on the way home he'd have visions of fate sending the aircraft carrying him crashing into the sea. No one could do pessimism quite as well as Jack because he knew, absolutely, had experienced it personally, that bad things really did happen all the time. In a way, Ianto being injured and needing looking after was a godsend because otherwise Jack was sure that he would have quietly gone to pieces. He felt so raw, his grief at Ianto's loss had been so overwhelming, the fact that he'd been returned (nearly) whole was unbelievable. He was terrified he was going to wake up any minute now and find he'd only been dreaming.

If he was it was a very vivid dream, and one thing he usually didn't notice in dreams was smell. Ianto stank. Gently Jack peeled his clothes off him. They reeked of unwashed man, unsanitary conditions while the trousers especially had overtones of infected wound. No wonder Ianto wanted to shower. Slumped in the chair Ianto was giving himself completely into Jack's care. Jack felt his heart break.

With Ianto on the stool, leg out in front of him, Jack got himself undressed too, it seemed easier that way and standing under the water went over him from top to toe with shampoo, soap and a wash cloth. He kept his body close, his hands always in contact, pulling Ianto in against him when he didn't seem able to hold himself up. He could feel the feverish heat from him and turned the shower down to try to cool him.

Ianto sat there completely passive, as if he were miles away.

'What's the matter?' Jack asked gently lifting his sore arm and washing into his armpit.

Ianto winced slightly. 'Did you miss me?' he mumbled, his head in Jack's stomach.

What? Jack couldn't believe Ianto asked that, he'd hurt so bad, 'Are you nuts? I thought the world would end.' Ianto was so solid and real. Jack crouched down in front of him and pulled him in close feeling his own body shaking. 'I didn't know if I could go on.'

'I'm sorry.' Ianto dissolved into Jack's arms, his good arm coming around him, clutching at him. Jack hung on to him, he was real, he was here, in his arms again and his whole world had swung back into alignment.

They were both sobbing, both for different reasons traumatised and needy.

Jack had spent all of December terrified something would happen to this young man he cared about so much. Unfortunately it had turned out that he had been perfectly justified in that fear. He had been taken and Jack would never have imagined that he would come back; the rift just didn't work like that. He was shell shocked and in the privacy of the shower, with Ianto crying too he broke down, hanging onto his lover as if his sheer force of will would stop Ianto from leaving him ever again. He didn't know that it was only serendipity that had seen Ianto end up in the one place that could return him to here and now.

Ianto for his part had been plucked from his everyday existence and completely surprisingly found another life that had suited him very well. It had been very hard to leave Rose and her world but now, here, back with Jack he couldn't imagine how he could belong anywhere else. Jack did make him whole.

They clung together under the stream of water and stayed that way until Owen came looking for them. Jack was surprised to discover that while he was still crying Ianto was actually fast asleep with his head on his shoulder.