Author's Notes: There's still 15 minutes of Sunday left... phew... long day. But nothing other than extreme creative blockage or a dead internet stops me from updating, and I'd love it if neither of those things occurred any time soon.
Thanks as always for all the marvellous feedback and reviews. You guys...
Chapter Eleven
Ianto turned his head and glared at Jack.
"Wonderful. Thanks for clearing that up" he said, voice dripping with sarcasm, and Jack glanced towards the ceiling as if being exceptionally patient. Ianto wanted nothing more than to punch him in the mouth.
"You saw the murdered" Jack said slowly, reaching around Ianto to place both hands on his shoulders and push him towards the cell which housed the moaning creature. "Take a good look a the murderer."
Ianto reluctantly followed in the direction of the insistent pressure, stopping when the creature raised and turned its head as if sniffing the air.
"This is what killed the victim in the warehouse?" Ianto asked quietly, choosing not to acknowledge the fact that Jack knew he had gone to investigate it. "It's not entirely how I imagined a genetically-modified feral animal to look." He certainly hadn't expected it to be quite so... humanoid.
"It's not" Jack said, so close that Ianto felt warm breath brush the outer edge of his ear. "Look at it..."
Ianto watched as it slowly rose to its feet and approached the bars once more. He instinctively leaned away but Jack's immovable form stopped him. As the creature drew closer it stared directly at Ianto, its eyes sunken and devoid of cohesion, but ultimately the raw emotion flowing from its unwavering stare was that of... loneliness. Ianto chastised himself for anthropomorphising the thing in such a sentimental way, but it truly looked lost as it cocked its head and gazed appraisingly at him, its previous snarls dulling to almost a purr.
"It's from another world."
Jack's voice was soft but firm, and far too serious. Ianto wanted to laugh.
"What does that mean?" he asked, maintaining wary eye contact with the beast before him.
"It means that this creature and all the others like it – Weevils, we call them – were born on another planet. There are a couple of hundred of them living in the sewers of Cardiff, keeping out of the way. Every once in a while one of them goes rogue, comes to the surface, attacks... we don't know why."
Ianto shrugged his way out of Jack's grip and turned to face him. The DCI's solemn expression was disconcerting, as if he was unreservedly accepting of his own story.
"I don't believe you" he said simply, rather than spouting the hows and whys on the tip of his tongue. He wanted to be angry over the continuing lies, but something about Jack's open and genuine expression stopped him.
"Would it really be the most ridiculous thing you've heard since you got here?" Jack challenged, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Cooper said they're escaped government experiments that you round up and incinerate" Ianto said, deflecting the question.
"Yeah, I know, I told her to say that" came the reply. "Look, DI Jones, I think we have a few things to talk about. Come upstairs."
Jack turned away without waiting for a response. Ianto felt the swell of frustration Jack generally inspired within him intensify, and he asked defiantly; "Why exactly should I?"
To his gratification, the older man stopped in his tracks. Jack spun on his heel, his expression stony as he swept his coat aside to shove his hands into his pockets. Ianto might have made a scathing comment about the transparency of his 'hero stance', under different circumstances.
"Because if you don't, you'll miss out on me telling you exactly how you were pulled from 2011 and dropped in 1973."
The rest of the team were at their desks when Ianto and Jack ascended the stairs – their actual desks beneath the ground, not the prop desks on the floor above – and were staring unashamedly. Jack led Ianto to the sagging sofa and motioned for him to sit.
"I'd prefer to stand" he said, though he was feeling anything but calm at the prospect of discovering what had happened to him.
"Suit yourself" Jack replied with a shrug, taking his time in removing his coat and throwing it over the edge of a nearby work bench. Ianto watched as he stalled, waiting impatiently for revelation. The fact that Cooper, Harper, Sato and Costello had returned as well as Jack during the relatively short time Ianto had been in the cells, suggested that this crucial moment had been set up. But for now, the thought was put aside. There were more pressing issues at hand.
"I'd just liked to say before Jack starts, that this was entirely his idea" Owen piped up, breaking the loaded silence. Toshiko glared at him before turning her gaze to Ianto, offering a startlingly empathetic smile.
"We're all very sorry for the part we played in this" she said softly, and Ianto thought it was the most he'd ever heard her say above a murmur. While he was grateful for the sentiment, the words themselves gave him a distinct sense of nausea. He nodded at Toshiko, before returning his stare to Jack, who looked surprisingly ill at ease.
"Okay Jones, the first thing I need you to understand is that what I said in the cells is true. The Weevils are from another world. This, right here, is Torchwood. We're a secret organisation – separate from the government and way beyond the police – that protects Earth from alien threats. You kind of have to accept that before I can go any further."
Silence fell. Five sets of imploring eyes were fixed on Ianto, each one of them making him want to scream with frustration over the utter ridiculousness of the conversation.
"If you're just going to take the piss-"
"He's not taking the piss" Suzie stated firmly, fixing Ianto with a hard stare. "Listen to him."
"Fine" Ianto replied through gritted teeth, "let's pretend, hypothetically, that I believe you. Please continue."
Jack flashed a half-smile – apparently appreciative of a challenge – and sucked in a deep breath.
"There's a rift in time and space that runs right through this city" he stated, drawing a line in dead air with his finger. "Stuff falls through it all the time – the Weevils, other creatures, space junk, debris... the flotsam and jetsam of the universe. Sometimes, the rift can splinter and stretch further than it's meant to. Judging by the number of other disappearances in the same place which you kindly wrote about in that little notebook of yours, we can make an educated guess and say that in late 2011, the rift splinters and a gap big enough to push and pull large objects forms in what will eventually be called Canary Wharf. You happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time; the rift sucked you in like a string of spaghetti, and spat you back out in another time. This time, right where the rift is widest."
Ianto couldn't believe what he was hearing. It was like the most trite of science fiction plot points being presented to him as fact. And yet, the uncomfortable twisting sensation in his stomach felt suspiciously like fear... fear that Jack could be telling the truth.
"Go on" he prompted, voice low. Jack took another noisy breath.
"We have rift predicting equipment here. Mostly alien technology of course – this is 1973, after all – but it's pretty precise. There are certain patterns that show when a living creature is set to come through. We traced you, and found you at Bute docks as soon as you landed there. We assumed we'd be dealing with an alien threat, all prepared with our guns and sprays... imagine our surprise when you turned out to be human!"
Jack suddenly grinned at Ianto and, when that had no effect, tried it on the others. When none of his employees responded, he cleared his throat and his expression returned to one of austerity.
"Tell him the rest" Gwen said sternly, her tone disapproving. Ianto shifted his gaze to her and she stared back, her eyes brimming with apology. She'd lied about the creature – the Weevil, if he was to believe this new information about the thing – to appease him. She'd lied from the moment Ianto arrived. Yet he still couldn't blame her, and remained certain that she didn't like lying to him. She mouthed 'sorry', and he nodded in recognition.
Ianto's stare swiftly landed back on Jack, who shuffled a little uncomfortably.
"Yes, please do, I'm dying to hear what you'll come up with next" Ianto said in a warning tone.
"You're really not going to like this bit" Jack murmured, his expression wary, but not apologetic. "About a year ago we decided to put a programme in place in case of humans falling through the rift, out of their time. The idea was to integrate any victims into their new lives, and let them get on with it without our interference. When you showed up, you turned out to be a cop. An investigative cop, at that. There was no way it was going to work, in your case. We needed to keep an eye on you. So, we quickly worked out a back-story for you while you were still unconscious, as well as one for ourselves. It's been kind of fun, pretending to be ordinary police, huh kids?"
Again he looked to his underlings, all of whom glared at him. Ianto was busy compartmentalising the new information, hating that it was still a more coherent concept than any other he himself had come up with. His head throbbed with the weight of it.
"You took my ID" he said, now knowing why.
"Yep" Jack replied.
"And my phone."
"Well, we couldn't have you wandering around with a mobile in 1973 if we were going to try to make you think you belonged here. Oh, and your coat was singed by the journey through the vortex, so we took that as well. Your keys are still in it. You can have it all back if you like."
"Thanks awfully."
"I didn't realise you were such a sarcastic fucker" Owen said to Ianto, nodding with approval. "I like it."
"You would" Suzie replied.
"Shut up, you lot" Jack snapped, and his officers immediately fell into line.
"You're not the police" Ianto clarified, more a statement than a question.
"No" Jack confirmed.
"And this is actually 1973."
"Yeah."
"You're a secret alien-fighting organisation."
"Pretty much."
"And you thought you'd try to integrate me into 1973 by maintaining complete secrecy and making no attempt to involve me in any of your work."
"Yeah, well, after your first day, we had to take a few things into consideration" Jack admitted. "We knew we couldn't keep up the pretence of being a real police team for very long. So, we decided to let you work out the truth for yourself, be gently leading you towards it. Although I have to say, I thought you'd have got there quicker..."
Ianto felt a sharp bolt of anger shoot through him, curling his hands into fists at his sides.
"Why didn't you just tell me at the beginning?" he asked through clenched teeth. If he was to believe any of this, these people had made the last week of his life a waking nightmare with a combination of countless lies and almost constant dismissal, and for what... a social experiment? All five of his supposed colleagues looked uncomfortable.
"That hasn't worked too well for us in the past" Jack replied.
"I could have handled it" Ianto stated, lifting his chin. Jack smirked.
"Sure, that's why you almost flung yourself from the roof on your first day here."
Ianto wasn't entirely aware of stepping forward and pulling back his elbow, but the impact of his knuckles against Jack's jaw brought him firmly back into the here and now. Jack flailed as he fell, sprawling on the hard ground with a grunt of pain. None of his employees rushed to his aid.
"You sort of deserved that" Suzie pointed out.
"I've wanted to do that for a week" Ianto said, shaking his hand. "It felt better that I'd expected."
Everyone except Jack laughed. Ianto had forgotten how it felt to have somebody on his side, if briefly.
"Don't all help me up at once" Jack grumbled, using a desk as leverage.
"We won't" Toshiko replied. Jack ignored her.
"Ianto, it was for your own benefit" he stated, rubbing gingerly at his jaw and ignoring the sniggers of his team. "Just before we put the new programme in place, we had two people come through the rift from the thirties. We made the mistake of telling them straight away what had happened. They lasted a few days, and we helped them as best we could, but it didn't work out."
"One gassed himself and the other flew an aeroplane into the sea" Owen added.
"So we couldn't be certain of how you'd react. With your skill as a DI, letting you work it out for yourself with enough hints and unlocked doors to fuel your suspicions seemed the best option. Unless we managed to send you home before then."
Ianto's mind suddenly sharpened and focussed in the midst of the dense confusion flooding it.
"You can send me back to 2011?" he breathed, uncaring of how utterly insane it sounded.
"Maybe" Toshiko replied, "if we can find another rift spike of exactly the same pattern and shape, but moving in the opposite direction. A negative spike, if you will. It has to match precisely the one you came through on, otherwise you could end up anywhere. If it works at all."
Ianto's hope sank to the pit of his stomach.
"How long could it take for one to appear?" he asked, no matter how futile it was.
"It could be tomorrow, it could be in ten years" Jack replied with a shrug. "It could be never. We kind of take each day as it comes, around here."
Ianto stepped closer to him, meeting one steely gaze with another. "I don't have that luxury" he replied, voice cold and hard. Jack lifted his hands in surrender, clearly having the good sense to acknowledge the danger implied in Ianto's voice, this time.
Ianto stepped back again, maintaining eye contact with Jack as he did. His mind swiftly descended back into chaos, partially aware that this entire discussion was utterly preposterous, partially relieved at having an answer, and partially livid at this group of people who'd seen fit to meddle in his life after deeming him too weak to handle their version of the truth. And he still had so many questions.
A wave of light-headedness swept over him, and he sank down onto the nearby sofa. It was more comfortable than it looked, and reminded him of the extreme tiredness and deep stresses he'd been carrying since his arrival. When a hand fell gently upon his shoulder and squeezed, he gathered together his remaining scraps of energy, and raised his head to look into Jack's regretful face.
"You need a drink" he stated. Not a question, not a polite invitation – a command. And it was too appealing a concept to ignore.