Twenty-one ~ John
"What exactly are we doing in a hospital?" It has to be the tenth time Gwen has asked that same question since they got in the car and he mentioned where he wanted to go. Ianto just gave him a raised eyebrow and shook his head before turning the key and setting off; Gwen, on the other hand, has been asking questions all the way. And never taking it gently when he referred her back to the standard 'the Universe will blow up to bits if I tell you, Sweet Cheeks' answer.
Some people just never get it.
"It's not just any hospital," Ianto chides in while locking the SUV and putting the keys in the pocket of his coat. Lovely coat, he has to admit. Nicely cut to highlight all the right things. "Rupesh works here. We were here this morning." He gives Ianto an innocent smile. "I suppose there is a reason why we are here again." Not even a question, just one of those deadpan statements Ianto does so amazingly well.
"That doctor, Rupesh, wanted to help." For reasons that Torchwood have no idea of, just yet, and not even Jack – his Jack, the one that has already lived through this sequence of events – has a clear picture of. "So we're giving him a chance." He leans on the SUV and motions Gwen and Ianto towards the A&E entrance. "You two, go and find him. Tell him we need a kid or three to try and figure out what's going on, and ask him to find us some volunteers."
"And meanwhile you will do exactly what, Captain?" Gwen's voice is full of mistrust, and it's starting to get on his nerves that no matter what he does, or how many times he proves he's got Torchwood's best interests at heart, Gwen still doesn't believe him. Well, maybe poisoning her and leaving her to die in their first encounter really is a bit of a barrier for trust.
He shoots Ianto a sideways look. A warning about asking questions that shouldn't be answered. Even if this time it has not much to do with timelines snapping and a lot to do with making sure the bait for his prey play their part convincingly. Ianto places a hand on Gwen's shoulder and, after a few tense seconds where it looks like Gwen won't give in, the two of them head for A&E.
As soon as they are out of sight, he bolts for a side door, heading for the basement. With a bit of luck, that'll be where they keep morgues in this century as well, and hopefully he has managed to put this part of the puzzle together despite Jack's reticence to give him much. Rupesh had hidden motives for his interest in Torchwood – he can recognise an infiltration attempt, after the many times he used every trick in the book. Whoever is using him to infiltrate Torchwood has probably raised the stakes after the blank page was issued from Whitehall.
And who best placed to trick Jack Harkness to lower his guard than someone presenting the mighty Torchwood leader with a puzzle to solve? He's gonna have to have a word with Jack about that. Or three.
In any case, it all means he has just sent Gwen and Ianto into a trap that was originally set for Jack. And all he can do now is hope that Rupesh will try to keep them as bait for Jack. And that he will manage to get them both out alive, while making it look like he isn't at all concerned for their safety.
He stops in his tracks when a shadow moves in the intersection in front of him. The shadow of an armed man moving on the wall. He raises an eyebrow. It looks like the blank page may have already been issued, then, even earlier than he expected. And, of course, he has no idea how many of them are there – Jack never saw the group that put the bomb inside him.
Because, of course, having decent intelligence would only be helpful. Thank you, Jack. Thank you, Universe. Multiverse. Whichever.
Voices, too low to distinguish anything, but too close for comfort. Three, four, maybe five men, and a steel-coated female voice that can only be Agent Johnson. He needs her alive, just in case. Hell, he could do with keeping all of them alive, since UNIT don't seem to be in the mood to get their asses out of their high horses and get dirty doing some real work. He swallows, wondering for a moment if he's bitten more than he can chew with this one.
And he wouldn't mind a round or two of good sex with her. There's certainly a dangerous edge to her, and he has always enjoyed that in a lover.
He doubles back, looking for a quiet corner to pause and gather his thoughts. He ends up in a storage room, his back to the door, and wondering how best to approach this. With a sigh, he taps his wriststrap and connects to Ianto's phone.
"Eye Candy!" He tries to keep his voice steady and calm. "Still in A&E?" He gets a quiet 'aha' from the other side of the line. They are probably with Rupesh already. "Stay there. Do not let him take you downstairs, is that clear?" Another quiet 'aha' and the line goes dead. At least Ianto and Mrs. Williams will not get caught in the crossfire.
Crossfire? Now there's a thought. After all the time he has spent wanting to bring his other self back to here and now, how could he not think of that earlier? Raising an eyebrow, he taps a few buttons on his wriststrap, heart pounding. Jack – at least his Jack, maybe even both – will have his head for this when he finds out. He pauses, eyes closed, waiting for the tingling of air around him that will announce his visitor's arrival.
Well, maybe Jack won't find out. After all, he used to make a living out of hiding and twisting the truth, it shouldn't be much of a problem to keep this from Jack.
Two minutes, thirteen seconds later, a cloud of energy forms in front of him, and he – or rather, his younger self – steps out of it, looking startlingly happy to be here instead of... well, instead of where he just was. There is a moment of silence, an arched eyebrow, hands dusting the front of a jacket that looks as if it's just been taken from the dry cleaners', and then the dreaded question.
"What the fuck took you so fucking long?" The voice is cold and dry, and he can clearly remember the anger he felt, back when he was the man in front of him. At not being able to get back to where – when – he was supposed to be. At being trapped. At the unnerving feeling that there was somewhere else he had to be. He lets out a sigh, the urgency of everything happening outside this little room pressing down on him.
"Take it out on me later, okay?" Hands on his hips, he just stares at John – it's easier to think of him as someone else, someone other than him. It gives him less of a headache. "Right now, we've got work to do." He turns around and is about to open the door when he realises John hasn't moved. He looks over his shoulder, only to find John still standing where he appeared, arms folded in front of him.
"Right now, you owe me some explanations." John arches an eyebrow in that oh so defiant way. "And maybe a bit of a welcome party." Is he really always this obsessed with sex all the time? No wonder Ianto goes around rolling his eyes every five point two seconds, give or take a snarky remark or a silent death threat condensed in a stare. He spins around and pushes John against the shelves on one of the walls, hands fisting on John's shirt to get some leverage to keep him there. There's a look of surprise in John's face, but it is quickly replaced by a mix of snark and come-and-fuck-me. Just like he said, there's always been something about a bit of rough and tumble.
"Listen to me, for once in our lives." He swallows, remembering the many times that he's completely disregarded advice from future selves just for the sake of not doing what he is told. "Right now, time is unravelling." John snorts, shaking his head. "Trust me, you may not be feeling it yet, but you will, soon enough. It will almost kill you, just as it almost killed me." John leans forward and kisses him, all bite and heat and want, and it brings back memories of many encounters with past and future selves. He pulls back, reluctantly. Much as he'd love a bit of 'me time' - and doesn't time travelling make that fun – he's got more important things to take care of right now. "I came here to fix it, and I need your help."
John snorts again and shoots him a disbelieving look.
"You really expect me to help?" He nods. "Oh, come on, just because I gave Torchwood a hand with those nasties doesn't mean..." He shakes John and slams him against the shelves again.
"Drop the act." He swallows. It's hard to admit it, even now, how important certain people have become in his life. Even if admitting it is the only way he's ever going to get the help he needs right now. And it was even harder when he was John, before he saw the effect that loss had – may still have – on Jack. "I am you, I know you." John looks away. "I know exactly how much you care. Despite how much you want not to. I know exactly what's been going through your head while you were there. "
The words seem to burn in his mouth. John pushes him away, but he holds his ground. There is a moment of tension, when he wonders if he could reach for a weapon in time if his other self tried something foolish. Not that he can actually kill his previous self without causing a nightmare of a paradox, but there is nothing preventing John from killing him.
Great. Not even paradoxes are on his side today.
"What will happen?" John looks away, voice barely a whisper, and he has to fight the urge to tear at John's clothes and lose himself in the genuine abandonment of some time with himself – which, so far, has always proven wonderfully interesting. Closing his eyes, he lets go of John and straightens up.
"Can't give you details, you know that." John nods, almost absent-mindedly. "All I can tell you is that, in the original timeline, the Rift is blown up." John grimaces, and he has to wonder why he didn't realise sooner what the impact of such an explosion would be, long term. He was probably too busy grieving. And people still insist that caring doesn't make you vulnerable! "On a global scale, that will unravel Time, epically bad, yada yada, need to stop it, blah blah, insert usual Time Agency speech when corrections in the timelines are required."
"And closer to home?" He gives John a wary look. John just smirks in that pretentious way of his. By the Goddesses, no wonder so many people find him irritating.
"I didn't say..."
"No, you said 'on a global scale'" John doesn't even let him finish. "Which means there is something more in it." He swears under his breath, and John just laughs at him. "I'm you, remember? I may not have your memories, but I do still know me."
He lets out a sigh. What can he tell himself? What impact would anything he says have on the timelines? He can't risk saying too much, but he can't risk John refusing to help either.
"Closer to home, people will die, John." He looks away, trying not to give too much away. "Closer to home, people will lose everything, and almost everybody, that matters to them." His voice is breaking, and it comes as a shock. He's always been good at hiding emotions. "Closer to home, people will wish they didn't have to go on living."
There is a moment of silence, of John idly kicking the floor, eyes darting around and clearly avoiding him. There is a moment of tension as he fears John will just dart off and hope for the best – he used to do that a lot, back in the day.
"Can we stop it?" He nods, hoping he looks more convinced about it than he really is. "I don't mean time unravelling, I'm sure we can handle that, since we know what triggers it. I mean everything else." He swallows and nods again.
"Time is in flux right now." John's smile returns, even brighter than before. "It's possible we may be able to prevent the timelines from snapping, and nudge them in the right direction so that certain things don't happen. Preferably without breaking them again."
John takes a couple of steps towards him and places a hand on his chest, heat seeping through the material onto his skin. A kiss, barely a brush of lips that promises oh so much more, and the fuck-me flare that appears every time he meets himself. For a second, he wishes he could just go with it, lean into the touch and the need and forget the world outside.
Thankfully, John breaks the kiss barely a moment later.
"You still owe me an explanation about why you didn't get me out of there sooner." He looks away, memories rushing back in, and nods. There is a lot he would love to explain to his other self, but not right now. "What do you need me to do?"