Chapter Fourteen
"What does this mean?" asked Gwen. They were all standing around Tosh's computer station, as if staring at the screens with their mouths open would help them understand. "It can't be a coincidence."
"No, it can't," said Jack, tapping his thumb to his bottom lip as he tried to think straight. "But I also don't see how it can possibly be related."
"What if more of those devices come through?" asked Tosh. "Maybe the ones we found last week were…well, a test."
"A test for what?" asked Owen, his voice sharp.
"An attack," Ianto answered. "Send them through to see if they work, then send the rest."
"But that would mean whoever sent them through is watching us," Gwen pointed out. "That they know the devices worked."
"What's the point of an attack like this? Making people forget about their relationships?" Owen was clearly skeptical. "It's pointless, since someone who loses a few memories is still capable of fighting back against another attack. Send a few bombs through to get the job done."
"If it's a test, the next ones they send could be worse—maybe they won't take memories, but whole personalities," Ianto suggested. "It could leave people more vulnerable to attack. Or complete takeover."
Owen rolled his eyes; Gwen looked worried. Jack shook his head. "I'm with Owen on this—a test doesn't make sense. It alerts the enemy that something is coming and gives them time to prepare. Tosh, can you tell us anything else about this opening? How big will it be, what's coming through?"
"Only that it's big," she said. "And complicated. And it still has a negative spike."
"We need to close the park," Gwen said immediately. "Let the police and city officials know."
Ianto was nodding, and Jack reluctantly agreed. "Gwen, call them and set it up for tomorrow. Keep it calm, the usual stories, excuses, and procedures. Tosh, get in touch with the mayor and let them know we're on it. I'll—"
"I'll call UNIT," Ianto interrupted. "When I spoke to them earlier, they were willing to help. I told them I'd be in touch the moment we knew more."
"You're injured," Jack said. "I'll call them."
"My head has been sore all week, now I have a bump to go with it," Ianto said. "I can call them, Jack. I don't want to sit around all night with an ice pack."
Jack glanced at Owen, who gave him a small nod, barely noticeable. Of course, Ianto saw it and rolled his eyes at the exchange. "Thank you, doctor."
"Tosh, is there anything coming before the big one tomorrow?"
Tosh turned back to her computer and pulled up some readings. "Yes, there are a lot of smaller spikes predicted through mid-morning. Then it should be quiet—the calm before the storm."
Owen grumbled and Gwen sighed. Jack tried not to knock something off a nearby desk. This was when he needed more people. Ianto was injured and Owen was technically dead, which made him vulnerable in certain situations; Gwen needed to talk to the police and Tosh needed to stay on the monitors. But Jack could not run down every alert for the next twelve hours by himself and still be ready for whatever came through the next day.
"This is what we'll do. We're going to have to work in shifts. Ianto, I know you're not going to like this, but you hit your head and we need to make sure you're ready for tomorrow. Call UNIT and take a turn in the recovery room. Tosh, I need you on computers. Me, Gwen, and Owen will take any alerts for the next four hours, then we'll switch—Owen, you'll coordinate and Gwen and Tosh, you hit the recovery room. Ianto's with me as long as you're up for it by then. We'll switch off after that according to whomever needs it. Any questions?"
No one said anything. The tension in the air was tangible, the fear real. Anything could come through, from something dangerous to a basket of fluffy kittens. Knowing there was going to be a negative spike—the first time Jack could ever recall seeing it on the monitors ahead of time—made it that much worse. Something, or someone, was going to be taken, and it was up to Torchwood to stop it.
"Then let's get to it." Jack stood up, glanced around, and nodded as if to reassure them, though it was mostly for himself. "Tosh, Gwen, Ianto—make your calls. I'm going to check the armory. Owen, get the medical bay ready for anything and everything."
"I'm always ready for anything," the doctor grumbled. There was a snort and a nervous laugh, and Jack grinned to himself. Yes, his team could handle this. Because that's what they did.
Not long after getting in touch with the authorities and warning them of the upcoming Rift event (without actually mentioning the Rift, of course), Jack went out with Gwen and Owen to cover the first Rift alert of the night. It was a book of poetry from Vogon IV, but before Owen could even open it and make a joke, a Weevil decided to run through a crowd of Saturday night diners.
After that it was a busy four hours, and they trudged back to the Hub on the verge of exhaustion, but knowing there was still more to come. Owen checked on Ianto in the recovery room, and when Ianto came upstairs, Tosh and Gwen went to lie down for a few hours. Ianto still appeared tired and somewhat pale, but said his head felt better. He and Jack had something to eat and a twenty-minute break with Owen before the alert went off for a location in Penarth. Owen settled onto Tosh's computer while Jack and Ianto dashed out to the SUV.
Jack suddenly wondered if the kiss from earlier would come up now that they were alone, and if he should say something first and apologize again. He worried it would be distracting, that Ianto might be upset with him, and dreaded an awkward drive. Fortunately, the ride there was quick and Owen was on the comms the entire time, directing them to a location near the Marina as he read them alien poetry. Expecting the worst, they took out torches and weapons and moved carefully, but were startled instead to find a dead body.
It was a large feline of some sort, clearly alien even though its trip through the Rift had left it mangled beyond any other recognition. They bagged it carefully and quietly, since they couldn't have any locals coming across it, and returned to the Hub. The drive back was silent, and Jack hated it. He had to say something so the whole night wasn't as uncomfortable. He was so nervous, however, that it took him until they walked around to the back of the SUV to get the dead body.
"I'm sorry about earlier," he blurted out. "This afternoon, at the car park."
Ianto raised an eyebrow. "I know. You've already apologized several times."
"I still feel terrible about it," Jack went on. "It was out of place, given our situation, and unprofessional, and it's made things awkward, and I—"
"Jack, stop," Ianto said, holding up a hand. "You're babbling. It's all right."
Jack shook his head. "No, it's not. I said I'd be patient, and I've been anything but patient, I've been selfish and feeling sorry for myself. I really wanted to try this again, the right way, only now you must hate me for practically attacking you when you were on the ground, covered in blood."
Ianto laughed through his nose. "I don't hate you, Jack, and you didn't attack me. I may not remember everything about you, but I do know you can be impulsive." He was smiling, as if what had happened was a whim of Jack's, impulsive flirting taken to the next level.
"That's not it," Jack protested. "I mean, yes, I can be impulsive, but I was so relieved that you weren't dead, and I've missed you so much, that I couldn't help it, I had to—"
Ianto stepped forward and kissed him, stopping Jack from embarrassing himself any more than he already had. At first Jack was too shocked to respond, but Ianto was really kissing him, far more than earlier, and Jack's eyes closed as he moaned quietly and deepened the kiss, bringing his right hand up to caress Ianto's face. Ianto moved closer, one hand wrapping around Jack's waist as the other came up behind Jack's head, fingers running through his hair. It was as if Ianto remembered exactly how to kiss Jack—there was no hesitation, no awkwardness, no uncertainty. Jack pulled him closer and kissed him with all the feelings he'd built up during the long, hard week and could finally express in the way he knew best.
Until he remembered Ianto's condition, and a wave of guilt washed over him, that he was taking advantage of Ianto when he was most vulnerable. He started to move away, but Ianto brought his other hand up to cup Jack's face, and Jack felt it all the way down to his toes, melting into the kiss with renewed passion. God, he had missed this man.
It was Ianto who eventually stopped, pulling away with a reluctant pop, his eyes slightly wide, his lips red and swollen. "Wow," he said.
Jack couldn't help but smile crookedly. "Told you we were amazing."
Ianto shook his head. "There's so much about this, about us, that's hard to believe. But that…that was real."
"It's always been real," Jack murmured, then straightened up and stepped back. "But it's too soon, don't you think? It's only been a week, and you still don't have your memories back."
"I might not get them back," Ianto replied, brutally honest. "I know that. Just like I know that kiss was one of the only things that's felt right all week. Real."
Jack looked away and bit his lip. Right. Real. Two simple words to describe them together, against all the odds. "I really want to kiss you again right now," he said quietly before glancing up to see Ianto's face. He seemed conflicted as well, desire warring with self-control, and finally cleared his throat as if breaking a spell.
"We should get the body inside," Ianto said. "Before we…or I…well, you know. We probably should go."
Jack reluctantly agreed, and they reached into the back of the SUV to haul it out together. Their hands touched, and Jack held tight, needing to be sure of one thing. "That wasn't a mistake, was it?" he asked. "Because if it was, I'm sorry I keep screwing up—"
"It wasn't," Ianto stopped him. "It wasn't a mistake, Jack. And if it was, it was my mistake. I shouldn't lead you on if I'm not ready."
"Right." He let go and they pulled the body bag out and shut the door. "Let me know when you're ready?" he asked, trying to keep it light. Ianto smiled, a genuine warm smile.
"Absolutely," he said.
"I'll be patient," Jack said. "Promise."
Ianto laughed lightly. "Why do I suspect neither one of us is particularly good at that?"
"Well, you're normally a saint," Jack pointed out. "Except when you're with me." He grinned, and Ianto laughed again.
"I think I can understand why," he said slyly. "But enough about us, what about this poor thing?" He indicated the creature in the bag.
"I think the incinerator is the only way to go," Jack said. "We can't freeze every alien for Owen to poke around in, especially with a busy weekend ahead."
They took the alien inside and downstairs before returning to the sofa and sitting down for a short break. After which they spent the next four hours straight out on the streets, running down Weevils, picking up the pieces of an alien drone that had crashed on a nearby beach, and trapping another warehouse full of blinkers (still no rolling around on the floor), before returning to the Hub for their break. It was past two in the morning.
Gwen and Tosh were up and ready to switch. Owen insisted that Jack take a rest as well as Ianto.
"You look terrible," he said, wagging a finger at Ianto before turning to Jack. "And even you can't power through until morning without stopping," he said, then nailed it home. "Especially if you want to be ready for tomorrow."
"I can handle it," Jack told him.
"He's right," Ianto said quietly from beside him. "You need a break. You just did a double shift."
"I'm fine."
"Jack," said Gwen. "We need you in top form. Owen's going out with Tosh and I'll coordinate from here. If they need help, I'll wake you for computer duty, okay?"
"Gwen, I—"
"Jack!" they all exclaimed. Ianto grabbed his hand with a huff and began to pull him toward the recovery room, where they had four beds set up. He could feel the others watching them leave together, but then another alert went off. He stopped and tried to turn, but Ianto kept hold of him and they continued toward the room, leaving the others to deal with it.
Jack wondered if Ianto might kiss him again, but instead he pointed to a bed and literally pushed Jack toward it. "Rest," he said, taking off his own shoes. "It won't kill you, you know."
"Ha ha," said Jack. A jaw cracking yawn betrayed him, and Ianto looked triumphant as he settled down onto his own small, single cot. They were not the most comfortable, but there were soft pillows and warm blankets to make up for it. Jack thought about going to his own bunker instead, and even glanced over his shoulder, contemplating what to say, but Ianto shook his head.
"You don't have to leave," Ianto said. "I don't bite."
"Oh, I know better," Jack said. Ianto rolled his eyes.
"I knew you were going to say that." He laid down, folding his hands over his stomach. "Lay down."
Jack's bed was across from Ianto, which was probably a good thing. If he'd been any closer, it would have been almost impossible to resist going to Ianto. He wondered if the Welshman had any idea how hard it was for Jack to be so close and yet so far, particularly after that earlier kiss.
Jack took his boots off, pulled his braces down, then turned off the light before settling onto his own bed. He closed his eyes and would have drifted off immediately if Ianto hadn't spoken.
"What do you think is going to happen tomorrow?" Ianto asked quietly.
Jack did not answer right away. "I don't know," he admitted.
"It's related, though," Ianto continued. "All of this. The devices that appeared in the park, the constant Rift alerts ever since. The Weevils. The prediction for tomorrow. It has to be."
"I don't know how, but I think you're right." Jack thought about it some more. "What worries me more is not what comes through, but what—"
"What we lose," Ianto finished. "The negative spike."
"It could be nothing," Jack said. "Maybe the Rift will snatch up a rubbish bin and dump it in the middle of the fifteenth century. No big deal."
"Unless it happens to be in the middle of Leonardo da Vinci's studio," Ianto said. "I'd hate to see The Last Supper with a rubbish bin in the corner."
They laughed quietly together, and it felt good.
"We'll do our best to preserve art history," Jack said.
They were silent for a long moment. Jack was sure Ianto was asleep and started to drift off himself.
"Why did you ask me out when you got back?" Ianto asked. "What changed?"
"What do you mean?" Jack asked, understanding the question perfectly but needing to stall his answer.
"You said we slept together for release. Did we keep sleeping together until you left?"
"We said it was going to be one night, but yes. We did." Instead of dissipating the sexual tension between them, it had only increased, and they'd fallen into bed again within days. It had been heady and confusing and yet amazing at the same time. He wished Ianto remembered.
"And then you left," Ianto said, but there was no accusation to his words. "And when you came back, we started dating. Why?"
"I don't understand," Jack said. He wasn't sure where Ianto was going with his questions.
"Neither do I," Ianto told him. "What changed that we went from sleeping together to dating? To dinner and dancing, cooking dinner together and spending nights at my flat watching movies? How does that happen with two people like us?"
"What do you mean, like us?" Jack asked, not sure whether to laugh or panic. It was an excellent question, though, one he often struggled to answer.
"We have a complicated history, even if I don't remember half of it. We're from different worlds, different times. And you're immortal. How does any of that lend itself to a relationship? Especially in Torchwood?"
Jack had no idea what to say, and he was terrified that he'd either ruin everything with Ianto by not saying anything at all, or by saying the wrong thing. So he tried to pull his thoughts together and answer the question as honestly as he could. He'd been talking around it for days, now it was time to lay it all on the table.
"While I was gone, things changed for me. I learned what I was, and I started to see things differently. I had a lot of time to think, and I thought about you. It's as simple as that." He wished he were lying next to Ianto, that he could lean over and kiss him, stroke his chest as they talked. Instead, he put his hands behind his head and stared up at the dark ceiling. "I came back because wanted to be with you, and I still do, because I care about you. Is that really so hard to believe?"
"Yes, it was," Ianto replied quietly. "Until that kiss. Did I know all this before I lost my memory?"
Jack sucked in a breath in surprise, then shook his head at Ianto's uncanny perception. "I don't know," he answered honestly. "We both hold our cards pretty close, so I doubt it. We sort of are what we are."
Ianto was quiet for so long that Jack was sure he had fallen asleep. He sighed and turned over on his side. He needed sleep as well, but now his mind was racing, bouncing back and forth between hope that he would have another chance to be with Ianto, and the despondent belief that he had ruined everything by saying too much. He couldn't get comfortable, and knowing Ianto was so close and yet so far made everything that much harder.
Until he felt a warm arm tentatively encircle his waist, coming to rest on his chest. "Go to sleep, Jack," said Ianto, pulling the blanket over them both. "We'll be okay."
For the first time, Jack believed him. His body relaxed and he fell asleep almost instantly, safe and warm in the arms of the man he loved.
Author's Note
Well, finally! :)
Yes, this chapter was done earlier than expected. It seemed a better place to wait a few extra days for the next chapter (I've been trying to stick to an every other day schedule of posting but am quite busy the next few days.) Things really pick up from here on out, and hopefully in both expected and unexpected ways. Next update this weekend - thanks for reading!