Chapter Eleven

After settling his cover story, as well as his nerves, Ianto set up an appointment and met with Mark Lynch, the estate agent listed with the warehouse on the docks. Posing as a businessman returning home to Cardiff to expand his jellied eels business, Ianto told Lynch how he needed a large empty warehouse, preferably on the docks, to accommodate his development plans. Lynch seemed reluctant to show him what he was looking for when Ianto knew there was space available. He tried to make a connection with the other man, hoping to find out more, but he had a bad feeling about the estate agent. As someone who kept secrets, Ianto sensed Mark Lynch was hiding something.

"Something's definitely going on," David told him when he checked in with the Hub. "Gwen and I went to the hospital to question a man who had clearly been attacked by something not human, most likely a Weevil. Only he refused to talk, said they would kill him."

"They who?" Ianto asked.

"Don't know," Evans replied. "But it sounds like Lynch might have something to do with it. Keep working on him."

Fortunately, Mark Lynch called to meet for drinks later, telling Ianto he might have found a property to fit his needs. Ianto changed into a more casual suit with an open collar and met the other man at the Cube, a upscale bar that was far too modern, crowded, and noisy for Ianto's tastes. He was already on edge pretending to be something he wasn't, and the people and the noise only made it worse; when some drunk spilled his martini on Ianto's shoes, he couldn't help but snap at the man. For some reason, Mark seemed intrigued by Ianto's temper and invited him back to his flat for another drink while they went over the property he'd found.

Ianto stared at him for a moment, his phone startling him out of blowing his cover. It was a text from Jack.

I've got your back. Behave with the pretty man.

Ianto covered his further surprise with a laugh as he deleted the message. "Sorry, yes, that sounds great. Thanks."

"What's so funny?" Mark asked, standing up to leave.

"It's my sister," Ianto lied easily. "She's always bothering me about working too hard, so I told her I was going out tonight. She said to behave but have fun." It was definitely something Rhiannon would say, that much was true.

"Do you?" Mark asked. "Work too hard?"

"Don't we all?" Ianto replied in his driest voice. He tried to look around the pub for Jack, who was clearly there somewhere, even close enough to listen, but he didn't notice anyone in a wool greatcoat.

"So how do you relax?" Mark asked. Ianto shrugged and tried to stay in character; in truth, answering the question wasn't hard, because he didn't relax much, unless being with Jack counted.

"I work harder," he said. They left the pub and started down the street. Mark Lynch's flat was only a few blocks away, slick and modern, with a large punching bag in the corner that the man immediately laid into. Ianto remarked on the place, offering his compliments, but Mark seemed unimpressed with his surroundings.

"Success has no worth other than itself. Seriously, I could live without all this. It doesn't define me."

"Still nice to come home to," Ianto replied. Mark was acting seriously odd, and Ianto wondered where this was leading. He didn't think it was heading toward the bedroom, even with the other man walking around with his shirt open, but Lynch was eyeing him strange enough that Ianto was growing uncomfortable.

"Yeah, but what's the point of life?" Mark handed him a beer, which Ianto pretended to sip before setting it down; he wasn't such a novice as to drink something that could very well be laced. "There's so much more, if you know where to look."

"I'm looking for a warehouse," Ianto replied. "Not the meaning of life. Or maybe the loo. Down that way?"

Mark grinned wolfishly and nodded. Ianto left him in the kitchen with his dark thoughts and wandered down the hallway. He opened a few doors, listening for the other man, until he came to one that was padlocked. Why would a man need to padlock a door in his own home?

"You found the bathroom yet?" Mark called.

"Yes, thanks," Ianto replied. He quickly picked the lock and opened the door, taking out his gun on instinct. There was a strange noise, vaguely familiar, and he turned on the light to find a Weevil in chains, growling at him as it pulled at them to escape. Ianto stepped back in surprise, right into Mark Lynch.

"Told you there was more," Lynch murmured into his ear.

"Sorry," Ianto replied, moving away and trying not to stammer as he put his gun back in his hip holster. "I thought I heard something. What is it?"

"No idea," Lynch replied. "Don't get too close, though. Vicious bastard."

"Where did it come from?" Ianto asked. He was frantically trying to work out multiple things at once: how had Lynch found a Weevil, why was he keeping it chained up in his closet, and how was Ianto going to let the others, or Jack, know what was going on without breaking cover?

"I found it on the streets. It took five of us to bring it in. Other than that, haven't got a clue. Scientific experiment gone wrong? Nuclear victim? One of the lads even reckons it's an alien. You want to know what I think?"

"What?" Ianto asked, even though he had no interest whatsoever in Mark Lynch's thoughts about Weevils, not if he was keeping one chained up in his closet. The man had a mad look in his eyes as he gazed at the Weevil; Ianto knew he had to be careful.

"I think it's us. You and me in a thousand years' time. This is what we become when all we have left is our rage."

Ianto stared at the creature, feeling an unexpected stab of sympathy for it. Torchwood had wondered for years what Weevils were, where they came from; Owen had been studying them almost since he had come to Torchwood Three. What if Lynch was right? What if Weevils were future humans, devolved back to their most basic animal state?

He shook his head. No, Jack was from the future. Humanity wasn't perfect, but he refused to believe they turned into mindless monsters.

"Give it a smack," Lynch said, pulling him out of his thoughts.

"What?"

"Punch it."

"Why?" asked Ianto. Now he knew why Lynch had it chained up in a closet.

"That's what it's there for. Or do you want me to do it for you?"

"Not particularly." Lynch punched the Weevil anyway, hard in the stomach, then again. He laughed as he tortured the creature.

"Stop it," Ianto snapped, reaching out for the man's arm. "It can't even fight back."

"We all need a punching bag," Lynch replied, then pierced him with a look. "So, who are you really, Ianto Jones?"

"Excuse me?" Ianto stepped back, suddenly leery.

"I know you're connected to those two in the black SUV, checking out the warehouse you suddenly seem so interested in."

"I need a warehouse for my—"

"Jellied eels?" Lynch rolled his eyes. "Nice website, by the way. Kudos to whoever did that, though I'm not sure that was your greatest idea."

Ianto let the façade fall with a shrug. "It wasn't that bad."

"Yeah, it was. And whoever you are, you've royally fucked up my plans."

"What about Dan Hodges?" Ianto demanded. "What about his plans? He had a wife and a child!"

"I'm not responsible for other people's life choices. Now, why did you lot take his body? And why didn't you go to the cops?"

"Because they don't need to know," Ianto replied, inclining his head toward the Weevil. "About them."

"Why not? Do you know what it is? Who are you, Ianto Jones?" Lynch murmured, eyeing Ianto's gun.

"Why did you kill Dan Hodges?" Ianto asked, ignoring the question. When Lynch denied it, he shook his head, growing angry. "Then you let that thing kill him. Why? What did he do to you?"

"You haven't got a clue, have you?" Lynch replied, his lips curled in an ugly sneer. "We didn't kill Dan. He was one of us."

"One of who?" Ianto demanded. "Tell me what happened."

"I can do better than that," Lynch said. "I'll show you. Come on. I think you need an outlet, Ianto Jones."

He started toward the door, and Ianto followed. He hoped Jack was still watching, somewhere, somehow. He had a feeling he might need the backup soon.


They sat in the car and watched a white van in front of an empty building. A man walked by, then another, then more. "What's going on?" Ianto finally demanded, tired of waiting and growing nervous with anticipation. He wondered if Jack was still following him, hoped he was.

"You'll find out," Lynch replied with an oily smile.

Ianto had a sinking feeling. The white van had been used to kidnap Weevils. Which meant there were probably Weevils in the empty building. Mark Lynch used one as a punching bag; was that what the other men were getting ready to do? Torture and abuse Weevils? It made Ianto's stomach turn. He wondered again how he could get in touch with the others without arousing suspicion, and get out of whatever was going on in the warehouse. Then again, Evans had trusted him with the case, and perhaps he could see it through, if Jack was nearby.

Lynch stepped out of the car, and Ianto followed, surreptitiously looking around for any sign of Jack or the team. They entered the building, only to find it wasn't empty. There were men everywhere shouting and yelling and fighting one another in every room.

"What is this?" Ianto asked, not bothering to hide his disgust. "Some kind of fight club?"

"It's more than that," Lynch replied. He looked alive, almost manic, in his element. "We are the dispossessed, Ianto. A generation of no faith. In society, in religion, in life. All we can do is reduce ourselves to the basics. And this is only the warm-up. Follow me."

Ianto desperately wanted to leave, to call the team and get them in there to stop the madness he was witnessing, but he knew he had to get more information first; only then they could move in and shut it down. Or maybe Jack still had his back and had contacted the team, was there somewhere waiting to step in when needed. Ianto swallowed, nodded, and followed Mark Lynch. They stood on a balcony, surrounded by a wild, chanting crowd. Below them was a large cage, where a Weevil chased a man as the masses cheering them on.

"What's going on? What's that man doing in there?" Ianto demanded.

Lynch grinned. "Costs a grand to enter the cage. Whoever stays in the longest takes home all the money. You're next."

Ianto tried not to let Lynch see his shock—or fear. "So these guys are paying to put their lives at risk?"

"Yeah. The ultimate extreme sport. Too much disposable income, not enough meaning. That's us."

"Then what happened to Dan Hodges?" Ianto asked. He didn't want to know, but he needed a confession of some sort.

"He wouldn't come out," Lynch replied softly. "Just stood in the middle of the cage and let it maul him. I think he got in there and he realized that he didn't want to live enough. He surrendered. None of us could get to him in time."

Ianto turned back toward the cage and frowned. "You watched him die, and yet you all come back. Night after night."

"Well, what else is there?" Lynch spoke with such flatness it was disturbing.

"I'm not doing this," Ianto snapped. "I came here looking for what happened to Dan Hodges, not an existential crisis." He turned around and started to leave, but Lynch grabbed his arm. Out of the corner of his eye, Ianto finally noticed Jack. He wasn't wearing his greatcoat, but blending into the crowd in jeans and a leather jacket. He gave a slight nod of acknowledgement before Lynch pushed Ianto into an empty room. It gave Ianto the confidence he needed to stay calm.

"How long are we going to keep playing this game, Ianto?" Lynch said, his voice low and almost seductive. "You may not be looking for an existential crisis, but here it is. You are one of us. I can sense it—so much anger, frustration, rage. All repressed. Get in the cage." He pulled out a gun.

"Forget it," Ianto snarled, pulling his arm away from Lynch's iron grip.

"You need this, Ianto. We all do. Or do you want me to shoot you?"

Ianto knew he couldn't get to his own weapong fast enough. Thinking quick and hoping Jack was still close, he shook his head. "Lower the gun. I'll take my chances in the cage." Lynch lowered the gun. "Thank you."

Lynch grinned and motioned him back toward the main room, reaching around his waist to take Ianto's gun; so much for shooting the Weevil. As they made their way to the cage, Ianto scanned the crowd for Jack once more, working on a plan of action. He'd be dead if he stepped into that cage, so he had to fight back before he went in. Lynch pushed him forward until they stood in front of the door, then leaned in close. "When you get in there, when you're up close with it, take a look into its eyes," he whispered. "It's like looking into the darkest recesses of your own soul."

Ianto stepped up to the threshold, with Lynch right behind him, pressed against his back. Before they opened the door, Ianto turned around and met the man's eyes, almost crazed with passion and madness.

"I've already looked into the darkest recesses of my soul," Ianto said, then head butted the man as hard as he could. It had worked in the Beacons, and it worked again. Lynch stepped backwards, instinctively raising his gun, but Ianto slapped his hand aside hard at the wrist, and Lynch dropped the weapon. A solid right hook to the jaw sent Lynch reeling, but before Ianto could land another, he felt his arms pulled tight behind him. Two large men held him fast, and a third punched him in the gut, doubling him over with a gasp.

"Throw him in the cage," Lynch snarled from the floor. Before they could open the door, however, there was the sound of a gunshot and shouting. Ianto glanced up to see Jack striding toward him, weapon raised toward the ceiling, and then the doors burst open and David, Tosh, Gwen, and Owen came running in, guns out as they stopped anyone from fleeing.

"It's over now," David Evans bellowed to the stunned crowd. "No more fighting. Go home and forget this ever happened."

The men holding Ianto let go as Jack came striding up, his gun leveled at their foreheads and a look of fury on his face. Ianto shook his arms, turned, and hit the nearest one in the jaw before turning on the second. Jack, however, grabbed his wrist and stopped him, letting the man flee.

"Let them go," he said quietly. "It's over." Ianto was breathing heavily, adrenaline still coursing through his body.

"Right," he said, nodding. "Over." He let out a nervous laugh. "Good timing, because they were about to—"

"Ianto!" Tosh called out, and Ianto turned to find that Mark Lynch had gone into the cage with the Weevil and pulled the door shut behind him.

"What are you doing?" Ianto shouted at him through the bars. "Get out!"

Lynch looked over his shoulder, his nose bleeding from where Ianto had punched him. "Like he said, it's over. See you on the other side."

He yelled at the Weevil, rushing toward it. Before anyone could stop him or the creature, they were locked together, shouting and growling. There was a spurt of blood and an agonized scream, and then Mark Lynch fell to the ground, his neck broken and his guts pouring out. Ianto turned away and tried not to be sick.

"Let's get out of here for a minute," Jack said, putting an arm around his shoulder and leading him away. The crowd was dispersing as David and Gwen forced them out. Tosh was using her scanner, though Ianto wasn't sure what she was looking for. Owen stood at the cage, watching the Weevil stand over Mark Lynch.

"That could've been me," he said as Ianto walked by. Ianto laid a hand on his shoulder.

"No, he wanted to die," Ianto said. "He lost hope."

"Hope for what?" Owen asked bitterly.

"Hope for the future," Ianto replied, and continued walking away with Jack. They stepped outside into the cold night, and Ianto immediately felt both better and worse, clear-headed but drained. He leaned against the wall and closed his eyes.

"Thanks for following me," he said, feeling Jack beside him. "You probably saved my life."

"Yeah, well," said Jack. "I couldn't let you go home with a good-looking guy who wasn't me, could I?"

Ianto opened his eyes and glanced sideways at Jack. "Seriously? That's what you were worried about?"

Jack grinned and kissed him quick. "Not really. I was more worried about something like this."

Ianto sighed. "I can't believe they paid to fight Weevils. To see who could last the longest."

"Sometimes men will go to any length to purge the darkness," Jack murmured. "Like you said, he lost hope. For a minute there, I thought you were going to do it."

"Fight a Weevil?" Ianto asked incredulously. "Of course I wasn't. I—"

They were interrupted by his boss, walking toward them with Gwen. He stopped in front of Jack and held out his hand. "David Evans, Torchwood Three. And this is Gwen Cooper."

Jack took the man's hand and shook it, though Ianto could tell Jack was wary. "Jack Harkness."

Evans nodded. "I know. Thanks for your help. For the tip, for the backup, for everything."

"You're welcome," said Jack. "Just doing my part to help."

"Right." David glanced between Jack and Ianto. "Well, I appreciate it." He offered a crooked smile. "And I imagine the local Weevil population would as well, if they could talk. Though these guys are going to be pissed off for a while."

"They should join the local gym and work it out," Jack said. "Not torture innocent creatures."

Ianto stood up straight and snapped his fingers. "Which reminds me—Mark Lynch has one chained up in his flat. A Weevil. He called it his punching bag." He made a face, remembering the poor creature chained up in Lynch's closet. Evans swore under his breath.

"Gwen, can you and Owen take care of it?" he asked. Gwen was watching Jack and Ianto closely and seemed to barely hear Evans until he repeated her name.

"Oh, yes, of course," she said.

"Get Owen to treat any wounds first," Evans told her. "Then sedate it and release it. " Gwen nodded and left, and Evans turned back toward Ianto. "You all right?"

"I'm fine," Ianto replied. Evans eyed him closely, then reached out toward his forehead.

"Did you head butt someone again?" he asked, his voice both amused and concerned. Jack held back a laugh as Ianto nodded sheepishly. "All right, have Owen look at you before he leaves. Then we need to clean this place out and figure out what to do with Lynch." He turned to head back inside. "Thanks again for your help, Harkness."

Jack tipped his head as Evans left. He turned to Ianto with a raised eyebrow. "That was unexpected."

"It certainly was," Ianto agreed, watching his boss walk away. "But you did help us, so he can't very well knock you down for intruding on a Torchwood case, especially one you found in the first place. Thanks again for saving my life."

"You were doing pretty good on your own, you know," Jack pointed out. Ianto motioned him toward the door. He needed to find Owen—his head hurt, and both his shoulders and gut were sore as well, though nothing some paracetamol wouldn't solve. Then they needed to begin yet another cleanup and cover story.

"I was about to get mauled to death by a Weevil," Ianto replied dryly. He blew out another nervous laugh. "Although maybe it'll get me out of undercover work in the future."

Jack stopped him. "You did great—with Lynch at the bar, out here with these goons. You are so much stronger than you think you are."

"I'm just lucky," Ianto protested. "And someday I won't be, and my number will be up, and—"

"Stop it!" Jack hissed, his face both angry and scared. "Don't talk like that. If you go out expecting to die, then you will. And I don't want that!"

"Jack, I—"

Jack put a finger to his lips. "Please," he whispered. "For me."

Ianto nodded, a lump in his throat. Jack kissed him again, short and quick, before they went inside to begin the cleanup. Yet all Ianto could think about was going back to his flat and reassuring Jack that he was still there, still alive—and that he wanted to be there with Jack as well, more than anything and for as long as he had.

Author's Note:

I hope you enjoyed that! The plot remained much the same, and a lot of the dialogue was taken from the episode as well, though there are some differences as Ianto and Owen probably wouldn't talk and react exactly the same way. You know what's next! Thank you for reading and enjoy!