Ianto climbed into the SUV and made his way to the Hub. He went through everything they knew in his mind, just to block out his imagination, mentally kicking himself each time his thoughts wandered back to Jack and whatever was happening to him right now.
And he knew, despite everything, Jack would be yelling at him now for being so reckless, for running around alone and practically presenting himself as a target. Ianto smiled grimly. Part of him wanted to be found, he wanted to be grabbed, because that would mean he would be close to Jack again. But the rational part of him knew that was not going to happen. If he let himself be captured, that bastard would use him to hurt Jack. He would probably kill him in front of Jack and that would help nobody.
No, if he wanted to get Jack back, he needed to be careful. Although he doubted that the wanker would come for any of them now. At least he hoped it.
Driving into the underground car park, he carefully checked his surroundings before he climbed out of the car. The garage seemed to be empty; however, he had his gun at the ready, when he quickly ran to their direct entrance to the Hub. Cursing when the new security measures took so long for him to enter, he gave a sigh of relief as the door finally clicked open. With one last glance around the parking garage, he entered the dark tunnel and shut the door behind him.
This was not good, he thought, when he leant against the door trying to calm his breath. He shouldn't be afraid to walk around, he was Torchwood after all. They were the ones catching the bad guys. But he couldn't shut up the tiny voice in his head that was mocking him: This time Torchwood had been crippled and caught by the bad guys.
Ianto tightened his grip around his gun, drawing comfort from the cold surface and the weight. He could do this. He would find Jack and he would get him out. Pushing himself away from the wall, he started to jog through the tunnel, determined to do anything that would help to bring Jack back. However, he took a quick detour and stepped into their locker room to shed his bloody and torn clothes. Pulling on a pair of jeans and a hoodie, he thrust a change of clothes for Tosh and Owen into a bag as well, figuring they would need them.
He wasn't kidding himself, he would need them to bail Jack out. He hated the fact he had to pull Owen and Tosh from their hospital beds, but there was just no way could he risk going in at the wanker - as he had come to call their enemy in his head - and his quite trigger-happy minions alone.
Grabbing another bag, he filled it with everything that would come in handy from the armoury. This time they wouldn't play around. It was kill or be killed, and Ianto preferred the first.
Both bags ready, he put them on the small table in front of the couch and turned to Tosh's station, feeling all the energy being pushed from his body, when his eyes fell on Jack's mug. Ianto closed the distance to the desk on wobbly knees and lifted the mug with a trembling hand. Jack must have placed it there when they were frantically looking for any sign of Tosh, Gwen and Owen earlier.
Swallowing hard, Ianto angrily pushed the tears back and slammed the mug down on the desk again. He would not break down now. He didn't know how often he had told that to himself today and the fact that he even had to keep telling himself to hold it together frightened him. He had never considered himself to be that weak.
And he wouldn't start becoming weak today.
Almost forcefully pulling the keyboard to him, he quickly pushed a few buttons, pulling up the readings from the rift monitor. His eyes scanned the shown figures, but there was nothing out of the ordinary. Ianto cursed inwardly, starting a manual scan for the frequency that had brought so much pain and destruction over them.
Again, nothing.
Feeling the need to kick something, he cried out in frustration. "Damn it!"
--oooOOooo--
When he woke up, Jack wished he would have still been unconscious. His head was throbbing and as he came too a little more, he found himself tied to a chair, his shirt and shoes gone. Squeezing his eyes shut against the bright light that stole its way through his closed lids, he winced when he heard a male voice loudly announcing his new state of consciousness. Then a hand grabbed his hair and pulled his head forcefully back.
"Hey pal, about time that you joined us."
Jack couldn't suppress the groan that escaped his lips.
Two pairs of footsteps were closing in and then he heard a familiar distorted voice say: "Forget the boy for the moment; you can play with the Captain."
The words were like a blow to his stomach. This can't be…oh please…Ianto! He had failed to protect him. Again. That mad man had captured them both and was only forestalling Ianto's 'treatment'.
Jack felt the bile rising in his throat and he forced his eyes open, ignoring the sharp pain the light produced in his head. He quickly took in his surroundings. He was in a small room, empty except for the chair he was tied to and the bastard that was forcing his head back into an impossible position. No windows, just one door and in that door stood the reason for all the pain.
"Well, well. Look who is awake."
"Let Ianto go!" Jack spat out, followed by a groan when his head was yanked back even further. He was too occupied not to cry to notice the short moment of confusion in his captor.
"And why would I do that?"
"You have what you want. You have me, you don't need him anymore. Please!" Jack wouldn't shy away from begging if it meant that Ianto was getting out of this unharmed.
"I don't think so." The man finally stepped into the room, slowly sauntering towards Jack. "You know, it's not only the part of killing you that's on my list. No, I want to destroy your life like you have destroyed mine. And I'm guessing that boy is your life."
"Please don't, I'm begging you!" Jack couldn't hold back the sobs anymore. Hell, he had never been one to cry in situations like this, but then, he had never been in a situation in which a person he loved was going to be killed. Killed, because of something he had done. "Please. You can do with me, whatever you want, but please let Ianto go."
However, the humourless laugh from his captor robbed him of the last bit of hope that Ianto would be spared.
"The great Captain Harkness is crying his eyes out, because of one little boy whore." The masked man obviously chuckled, but the voice modulator made it sound like the laughter from hell. "I'm afraid though, that you're missing the point. You see, I can already do whatever I like. With you. With the boy. With the rest of your team. Nothing you say will change anything." The man bent down, his masked face close to Jack's while he trailed a single finger gently over Jack's cheek, almost whispering his next words. "And you will suffer." The man straightened up again abruptly and headed for the door. "Boys, you have one hour and remember: I want him still alive after you're done with him."
Jack watched the man leave the room. He was confused. There was something off with that guy, he couldn't really pinpoint it, but there was something strange going on here. Why was he still wearing a mask now? His men obviously weren't sharing that concern anymore. He was still pondering that, actually forgetting his fear for his team, when the first blow to his face ripped his head around.
He tasted blood instantly, but had no time to dwell on that, as another pain exploded on his right cheek. His head snapped to the other side and he was positive, the twinge in his neck was the sign of a pulled muscle. Dragging instinctively at the ropes that bound his hands to the chair, he was slowly chafing off his skin. His muscles already protested against the forced position and the tension in his arms and shoulders spread over his back, slowly starting to cramp with each movement.
Blow after blow rained down on him, until he couldn't differentiate anymore between the pains due to yet another blow to his body or the now constant throbbing that had all his nerves on fire. He had the feeling the beating had been going on for hours, having lost his sense of time long ago. His mind had retreated to his safe place; pictures of Ianto were running in front of his inner eye like a film. And it was the feeling and the knowledge of having failed Ianto yet again that followed him into unconsciousness.
--oooOOooo--
I feel the need to kick something. Hard.
Harkness is finally awake and I chicken out, leaving the pleasure of torture for Frank and Bobby. I never saw this coming; there was something about him that stopped me. But not again, I will finish this and I will do it on my own. Frank and Bobby can have their fun now. And oh, they are enjoying every moment of it. I can hear the groans from the other room. The pretty face will be gone, when they are finished with him.
I try to dwell on that. Maybe it's for the better that my men can let off steam now, so they will be focused later on.
I sit down on the only other chair in this poor excuse of a hut and pull my knife from its sheath, turning it over in my hand. There's still dried blood on the blade, blood from the doctor and the Japanese woman. Maybe even blood from the boy. I recall the feelings that were rushing through me when I cut my mark in the chests of the Torchwood members, the feeling of power when I shot the policewoman.
I have to smile when I remember Harkness begging for the boy. I was surprised when he mentioned him, but it suits me if Harkness thinks I have his whole team in my grip. He won't try anything if he thinks it will hurt his team, hurt his boy. Not that he is in any position to escape, especially not after my men are finished with him.
A glance at my watch reveals that it's only five hours until sunrise; I can almost forget my failure when I think about the moment Harkness will die.
--oooOOooo--
Ianto felt like screaming.
Since Gwen knew the guy that was attacking them, he figured he would go through all the case files they had worked on since Gwen joined Torchwood. He had dismissed the files from the time Jack had been gone, and he had tried to further shrink the pile by tossing all the cases about weird aliens aside as well. Nevertheless, that had still left him with a quite impressive stack. By now he had looked through half of it, so far with no use. He couldn't single out a suspect that fit the profile even close. Almost three hours wasted for nothing.
He wished Toshiko was here to help him. But he wasn't ready to call her in yet. Sighing, he checked the rift monitors and the scanners for the fifth time in the last hour, by now familiar with the readings that told him that nothing was happening. He rubbed his eyes and stifled a yawn. He had only been up for maybe 18 hours now, not counting the time he had been unconscious from the explosion. But he had the feeling he hadn't slept for three days. A totally inappropriate grumble from his stomach reminded him that he hadn't eaten in all that time as well. He hated the thought of stopping now, but he also knew that he would be no help to Jack if he fainted from hunger and exhaustion.
In the end Ianto submitted to his hunger and made his way to the kitchen. He found some left-overs in the fridge and prepared himself a cup of coffee. Armed with his findings, he went back to his files in the conference room and pulled the next one to him, stifling a sob when he opened it. This one was about Tommy and the time disturbance. It wouldn't help him in finding the wanker, but the memories of what happened the night before they had to send Tommy back were threatening to overwhelm him. It had been the first time that Jack had told him that he loved him. Ianto couldn't keep the tears in that were now running down his face. He remembered that it had been the moment when he knew Jack had truly come back for him. They had shared a kiss that was not only a kiss but a silent agreement to put the past behind them and start something new.
Ianto was sobbing now, not able to hold it back anymore. He knew he wouldn't lose Jack to Death, but there was no way of telling what his time in captivity would do to him mentally.
The sudden ringing of his phone pulled him back to the here and now. He looked numbly at the small piece of electronics for a moment, watching how the vibration alarm let it slide over the smooth surface of the table. Finally snapping out of his trance, he slid his phone open.
"Hello?"
"Hey Teaboy, it's Owen. They just brought Gwen out of the OR. We're not allowed to see her, but they let Rhys in. Apparently it was a very close call, but she will make it."
If Ianto hadn't been already sitting, he would have fallen down now. The relief of hearing those words made his knees wobble and he thanked whatever god was responsible for letting Gwen live.
"Hey, you still there?"
Ianto opened and closed his mouth several times, before he could muster up enough energy to speak. "Yes, I'm here. I'm just glad to hear that she will be okay."
"We all are, mate. We all are."
"I know this might sound insensitive, but when can we speak with her? So far I have found no clue as to where to look for Jack. Gwen might be our only hope of finding him."
"Ianto, Gwen has just gone through five hours of major surgery," Owen's voice came calm and serious over the phone. "Her body suffered a major trauma and she is on a lot of pain medication. She will probably wake up in a few hours, but there is no way of telling, if she will be anywhere near coherent at all to tell us something useful. And there is every possibility that she will not remember who shot her. Not for days. Ianto, she might not even remember it at all."
Ianto felt like something pulled his feet from under him. Gwen had been his beacon of hope. She had seen that wanker, she could have told them what they needed to find Jack. 'Not remember for days', the words echoed in his head. They couldn't afford days. Jack couldn't afford days, they needed to find him now.
Ianto didn't dare considering option three. He needed to believe that Gwen would finally remember. He needed to believe in order to not fall apart.
"I'm coming back to the hospital," Ianto replied numbly and ended the call. As if on autopilot he stuffed his phone in his pocket and scooped up the remaining files. Thrusting them into yet another bag, he walked to the main area and grabbed the other two bags and made his way to the SUV. Not caring for any possible attackers this time, he just threw the bags into the car and started it.
The motor was running, but Ianto found it impossible to push down the accelerator. He just gripped the wheel with both hands, knuckles already turning white from the force he was gripping it with. He stared at the far wall while images of Jack ran in front of his inner eye. Pictures of Jack covered in blood, with his chest cut open, his dead eyes staring back at him, only to blink in confusion a second later and Jack coming back. Gasping, with his hands flailing around, searching for something to hold on to…searching for someone to save him from the darkness. The cuts are already healing; he looks for a friendly face, for someone that would take away the fear and the pain of being alone. But there was only one figure, covered in black clothes, the hockey mask blurred into a grotesque grimace, laughing at Jack. Laughing and raising a gun. Jack's eyes widen when he understands that there is no one to help him, when he understands that there is only more darkness waiting for him and a single tear is falling from his eyes when the shot rips through the silence.
Ianto almost jumped in his seat when he heard the loud bang. His head shooting from one side to the other to look for the shooter, but there was no one, just a car pulling out of the garage. The sound must have been a misfire of the car engine. Leaning his head on the wheel, Ianto took a few deep breaths. There had to be a way to find Jack, he couldn't give up, he needed to find him.
Finally pushing down the accelerator, Ianto pulled out of the parking lot and made his way back to the hospital. Maybe they would find something in the remaining files.
And for the first time in years, he started praying to a God he never really believed in. He prayed for Jack and he prayed that Gwen would wake up to give them the information they needed.