Doomsday

a Torchwood story

by RoadrunnerGER

Dislaimer: Oh, really! They're the BBC's.

Suspense/hurt/comfort – T – Ianto Jones & Jack Harkness

A/N: It's too bloody hot here to come up with a note. I just want to thank everyone. Enjoy!

Chapter 36 – Accomplished facts

Torchwood Tower

"Owen! Please!" Ianto cried.

Tears of fear stung his eyes. The excited noises from the other cubicle tore on his nerves as he still could not tell what was going on. Judging by the screams and the speed with which Owen had vanished something terrible had happened. Ianto did not want to imagine what it was. The man's screams alone made his skin crawl and his insides constricted painfully. Breathing became increasingly difficult as his throat tightened with every breath and his lungs did not seem to expand sufficiently anymore.

Once more he tried to call for Owen, but he could not get a single sound out.

Breathe!

It was impossible. His whole body started to tense and he trembled as he desperately gasped for air when the panic attack overwhelmed him. Wildly his heart beat in his chest, which hurt from the overstress.

I'm having a heart attack!

The additional stress of an assumed threatening heart failure pushed Ianto over the edge. Screaming he strained against his restraints. With his eyes tightly pressed shut, he battled the metal frame that held him.

In his agitation he did not notice the hand that alighted on his forehead. When he did it did little to calm him. Soothing murmurs right beside him reached his ear but not his mind. Wildly he tossed and writhed as much as his bonds allowed, screaming all the while.

"Ianto Jones!" a sharp voice suddenly cut through his anxiety.

His eyes flew open and he stilled, but his breaths still came in rapid gasps. Suzie stood beside the conversion unit, staring at him with a strange mixture of anger and disgust. Seeing her like that scared Ianto. It looked like she was about to slap him.

Actually that was what Suzie would have done if it had not been for the arms with blades that still hovered over Ianto's body. She could not lean in over him in order to slap his cheek.

"Are you with me again?" Suzie asked, sounding more compassionate now.

Taking a deep breath first Ianto returned a shaky, "Yes."

"Good." Her expression softened. "I didn't know what else to do."

"It's okay," Ianto sighed. His chest still hurt as did his joints from struggling. "I thought I was dying."

"You sure sounded like that."

Ianto scowled. From the other cubicle he could still hear anxious voices.

"What happened?"

"Actually I'm not sure," Suzie admitted. "Owen just called to tell me that I should return to you as he had to assist the fire-fighters. I think one of them got injured."

"Injured," Ianto snorted. "Stop kidding. It sounded like he got slaughtered. Tell me the truth. Please."

"I'm sorry, Ianto. I returned straight to you and I don't want to interrupt Owen."

"He'll tell you when he can, right?"

"Sure."

"He'll save him," Ianto said with slightly wavering voice.

"He will do his best."

Chills chased down Ianto's spine. Even though he knew why Suzie did not confirm his statement he could not help but shudder again as his fear returned with a vengeance.

Please, God, let him be all right. Don't do that. Don't let the man who came to save me die.

Suzie carefully placed her hand on Ianto's shoulder.

"Before Owen joined Torchwood he worked at A&E," she said. "If anyone can help the fireman it's Owen."

Ianto could not say that he felt reassured but he believed Suzie that Owen would do whatever was in his power to help the man.

New sounds made Ianto prick his ears. The light thumps of shoes and the swirling sound of wheels approached the neighbouring cubicle.

"This must be the paramedics," Suzie murmured. "Shall I go and see what's going on?"

For a moment Ianto thought about that.

"No," he said. "No. Don't disturb them. Owen will tell us as soon as he can."

A mysterious smirk played around Suzie's lips.

"What?" Ianto queried.

She chuckled lowly. "Do you know something about him that I don't?"

"What do you mean? Because I think that he'll inform us?"

"Yeah."

Ianto had to admit that he did not even think about it. There was no doubt in his mind about Owen letting him know what had happened.

The sound of the excited chatter faded away, leaving the storey terribly silent once more. Even though he knew that Suzie was right there at his side Ianto sensed renewed anxiety tighten his chest.

Then he heard steps again and a moment later the plastic enclosure was pushed aside.

"Whoa," Owen said. "That was close."

"What was close?" Ianto asked before Suzie could even open her mouth.

"The saw," Owen panted. "They were trying to cut the restraints when it got stuck. Upon trying to get it loose a splinter came off."

"The guy who got hit…" Ianto gasped. "He'll make it, right?"

Owen sighed. "We'll have to wait and see. He was stable when the paramedics picked him up. We'll see how he comes through surgery."

"He needs to have surgery?" Ianto called out with fear. "How bad is it? Could he die?"

This time Owen shrugged. "I could tell you that I'm optimistic, because I really am… But when it comes down to it, the truth is that we can only wait and see, and trust the doctors to do their job."

Trust. Actually Ianto's belief in that word had suffered since he first heard the rumours about the experiments Hartman and her team of scientists were undertaking. Suspicion had become his second nature and the Cyberinvasion had proven him right. Seeing the doctor's blood speckled sweater now did nothing to assure Ianto. But I trust Owen, he realized with surprise. If he's optimistic that the man has good chances, I should be optimistic, too.

"You asked me to be honest with you," Owen said, sounding just the slightest bit sour.

"I know… and I appreciate that," Ianto told him. His voice was still wavering and despite his attempts to pull himself together he sounded weepy. "I'm sorry, Owen. I'm scared. This man… he came to help me. Now he's injured and needs surgery and maybe he'll die…"

"Ianto, stop that," Owen commanded. "Stop. I didn't say…"

"But you didn't deny it either!" Ianto argued. "I asked if he could die and you said that we'd have to trust the doctors at the hospital! Now what am I supposed to think, huh?"

"Ianto, we did what was in our power to help him. Now it's up to the medics and his surgeon. They will let us know when he comes out of surgery."

"But, Owen…"

"No buts, Ianto," Owen cut him short. "We'll get to know as soon as possible. And that's the best I can do for now. All right?"

Ianto looked decidedly undecided.

"Can you calm down now? Because I'd hate to have to sedate you."

"Don't you dare!" Ianto hissed. "I can calm down. You'll see."

"That's good."

Suzie leaned in to Owen to whisper something in his ear and the doctor nodded. Then Ianto saw her leave.

"Are we on our own now?" Ianto asked.

"Well, Dennis is back, too," Owen said. "And the fire-fighters will return as well."

"I see. Okay," it came easily over Ianto's lips, but he was not quite that sure that it really was the truth.

xXx

Oh, my gosh!

Suzie stood at the entrance to the first of the seven storeys that had been identified as belonging to the archives. What she saw upon stepping through the door were rows and rows of shelves filled with folders. Slowly she wandered down the centre aisle, looking left and right, trying to judge what was stored in this section.

I need an index or I'll be searching forever, she thought miserably, searching for a computer.

She found a desk and as she approached it she became uneasy and slowed her steps. The archives were vacated and Suzie knew only too well where the employees had gone and what had happened to most of them. All of a sudden she became aware of the oppressive atmosphere and she took a deep steadying breath that seemed to smell of sweat and smoke and anxiety and caused Suzie to shudder.

Pull yourself together, Agent Costello!

Still she felt kind of lost in the fifty-storey building, especially knowing that Owen and Ianto as well as Dennis and the firemen currently were the only people inside. Being left no choice, though, she walked around the desk. As she turned to the computer she discover that it was running.

So she rolled the office chair in position and sat down. When she moved the mouse the screensaver vanished to show a start menu with a login request. Automatically she entered her password and was granted access. Navigating the archive's program, though, proved to be more difficult. When she could not find her personnel file at the first attempt she tapped at her earpiece in order to call Toshiko.

"Tosh? Are you there?" Suzie asked with mild confusion when her colleague did not answer. "Jack? Do you hear me?"

Now that's weird. Where are they?

"Owen," she called the medic. "I'm in the archives and tried to ask Tosh for help…"

"Repeat the latter," Owen chuckled.

"Haha, very funny," Suzie complained. "I couldn't reach her. Can you try to contact her or Jack while I'm gonna explore the program further?"

"Sure."

"Thanks."

Suzie refrained from being intimidated by the unfamiliar program. There had to be functions that were similar to what she knew. Finally she managed to find the archive code for her and Owen's files and got up to retrieve the documents. She strolled along the shelves in search for the right row before she stepped around a corner. Slowly she let her gaze drift over the folders until she discovered Owen's file.

For a moment she was tempted to open and read it, but she thought better of it and tucked it under her arm before she went to search for the documents about herself.

xXx

"I'm sorry that I ran away," Owen said.

"No problem," Ianto assured him. "He needed you more than I did."

The medic's only answer was a thoughtful smile.

He's smart. He's nice. I wonder how he ended up with Torchwood One. Inwardly Owen chuckled. As if it would make a difference if he was an idiot. He worked as a researcher, collecting information. A drone in Hartman's beehive. Owen scowled at his thought. That is not good. I'm comparing Torchwood One with the Cybermen.

He pursued the thought anyway, and came to a disturbing conclusion. It really isn't that farfetched. It sounds as if Hartman had practically created a cult of personality around herself where most of the personnel didn't question the Ghost Shifts, and those who did kept their questions to themselves for fear of being retconned and dismissed. I doubt anyone outside of the upper echelon of scientists and administrators had a clue what they were up to until it was too late and the ghosts turned into Cybermen.

"Owen!"

"Huh?"

"So lost in thought? Was it nice?" Ianto teased.

"Actually, no," Owen shrugged. "Did you ask something?"

"Yes. What's his name?"

"Pardon?"

"The injured fire-fighter, Owen," Ianto prodded. "What's his name?"

At that the young medic actually blushed as he realized that he had no idea.

"You don't know," Ianto stated.

"Actually, no," Owen admitted sheepishly. "I was too busy saving his life to ask. But I'm sure that crew manager Jeffreys will inform us as soon as he knows more about his condition."

Ianto sighed. "All right."

By the look on Ianto's face Owen could tell that it was anything but all right, but there was nothing else he could tell him. All they could do now was wait.

That must be horrible for him, the doctor thought. Trapped like he is time certainly seems to pass slowly. And now the worries for the fire-fighter are weighing on him as well.

Besides worrying about the injured man Ianto followed different thoughts. Among other things he contemplated the weird kind of luck that chose him to survive while others died in the attack of the Cybermen.

I'm nobody special, just an office worker who's collecting information. I'm not a James Bond kind of guy who risks his own life to save others. So why did this of all units jam? Why was I spared and not the others? There must have been many people working here at Torchwood who should rather have survived than me. Markham for example. Or Lisa.

Thinking of Lisa made his heart ache again so he pushed the thought aside.

Markham virtually ordered us to survive. Now look how I managed that. Lisa's dead, converted into a Cyberman. And what about me? I'm locked in a conversion unit. Absolutely useless. And into the bargain a fireman almost died because of me.

"Hey, there. Ianto! Stop brooding."

"Huh?"

It was Dennis who had interrupted his dreadful train of thoughts.

"Talk to me," Dennis prodded.

"About what?"

Dennis shrugged. "What kind of movies do you like? Except James Bond, that is."

"All kinds of movies, actually," Ianto said. "I don't really like horror movies, though. Lisa loved those. The creepier the better."

"My thing are action movies."

"Like the Die Hard trilogy?"

"Yeah, stuff like that."

Peripherally Ianto noticed that Owen activated his ear comm.

"Repeat the latter," Owen chuckled. His grin had something evil. A moment later he became earnest again. "Sure."

"Something wrong?" Ianto asked.

"Not to my knowledge. I'm just going to call my boss, all right? I'll be right over there."

"Sure, Owen. We'll be okay," Ianto assured him with a grateful look at Dennis.

Owen stepped aside, but as neither of the men tried to restart the conversation they could understand how the doctor tried to contact Captain Harkness. When Ianto heard Owen curse he could not help but worry again.

"Is he not answering?"

"No," Owen growled as he returned to Ianto's side. "But he most likely is busy."

"Busy flirting?" Dennis could not help but tease.

"Hey! You don't know him. You're not Torchwood! You better keep your mouth shut," Owen barked. "Or even better now… get out of here and see if you can't make yourself useful."

"Owen…" Ianto tried to stop him. If Owen kicked the UNIT soldier out they would be on their own. He did not want Dennis to go.

"I thought, I'm useful here," Dennis replied calmly.

"You are," Ianto quickly replied.

But Owen did not seem to listen. "Are you still here? Get out! C'mon! Move! Out!"

With shooing gestures the young doctor chased the soldier out of the cubicle.

"Owen, wait!" Ianto shouted but to no avail.

For a moment both men were gone until Owen returned, cursing under his breath.

"Owen, why did you throw him out?" Ianto demanded to know. "He was just trying to do his job."

"No, he was trying to do my job."

"What? By talking to me?" Ianto frayed. "He's not a doctor, you are. He can't do your job. You're just pissed off because he made a joke at Harkness's expense."

Owen's mouth opened for a juicy reply, but he stopped himself and remained silent.

"I get why you're testy, Owen. You're tired and you're worried," Ianto said. "You're loyal to your boss. That's commendable. Still it's not Dennis's fault."

Closing his eyes Owen took a deep breath before he murmured, "I know."

"You're worried, right?" Ianto prodded. "Because Harkness didn't answer."

Owen sighed. "I'm worried because Tosh doesn't answer," he admitted. "Usually she surveys the operations from the Hub or in special cases from the SUV." Once more he took a deep breath. "They both would've come with us, but after the attack of the Cybermen the Rift became volatile. Someone had to deal with it."

"It's just the four of you in Cardiff, right?"

"Yeah."

"That must be hard," Ianto softly said. "I don't understand why Harkness is playing the renegade. The Headquarters could support you."

Now Owen laughed out loud. Gathering his breath he replied, "We're doing okay… with lots of pizza and an extra dose of particularly strong Starbucks coffee."

"Starbucks?" Ianto wrinkled his nose. "Why don't you make it yourself?"

"Because our coffee machine hates us."

"Maybe I should give it a try. The guys in my division liked my coffee. I'm good at making coffee."

"Oh really?"

"Former barista, remember?"

"Well, then don't mention that to Jack unless you want to be kidnapped back to Cardiff. Though I doubt you'd succeed. I swear, our coffee machine hates everyone."

"Get a new one."

To Ianto's surprise Owen looked rather shocked.

"I guess I don't want to know," Ianto said, rolling his eyes. "But still, four agents to guard a rift in time and space? You certainly could do with some support."

"Are you volunteering?" Owen murmured. "As I said, you're Jack's type. I bet he wouldn't kick you out of bed either."

Now it was Ianto's turn to be shocked.

"I am not volunteering," he stated firmly in reply to the not so subtle allusion.

"Too bad," Owen shrugged.

Ianto sensed a chill run down his back just a second before he saw a smirk tug at the corners of Owen's mouth. Then the medic winked at him.

"You're just pulling my leg!" Ianto complained.

"Only partially. We're not hiring. But I could imagine Jack being quite interested in you."

"I have a fiancé," Ianto huffed only to feel a sudden pang at the realization, "I had a fiancé."

Owen did not know what to reply. Any attempt only made him relive his own agony.

"You're worrying about your colleagues," Ianto stated.

"Well, yes," Owen admitted. "That they don't answer their comms. doesn't mean that something happened to them, but I can't rule it out either." He took a deep breath. "We have to think positive. Jack and Tosh can take care of themselves."

"I'm sure you're right," Ianto said. "They'll be all right."

"Yeah."

What Owen had said left Ianto thinking again. Even though he did not want to show it, it was quite obvious that the young doctor worried about the whereabouts of his team mates. And that reminded Ianto of his sister. Before he could ask Owen if he could place a call, though, the plastic sheet was pushed aside and Jeffreys appeared at his side.

"How's your colleague doing?" Ianto asked at once. "Will he be all right?"

Jeffreys smiled grimly. "We're waiting for news from the hospital. They promised to call as soon as he's out of surgery."

"Oh, my God." Ianto felt horrible for being responsible.

"You shouldn't worry about him," Jeffreys said. "You concentrate on yourself. That's what Sebastian would want you to do as well. Got me?"

"Yes."

"Good." Jeffreys smiled encouragingly.

"Now, can you get me out?"

As soon as the question was asked the smile faded from Jeffreys's features.

"I'm sorry," the fire-fighter said, "but I'm afraid that we don't have the right equipment to open the machine."

A distressed sound left Ianto's throat before he could stop it.

"What we can do," Jeffreys elaborated, "is to remove the blades."

Out of widened blue eyes Ianto stared up at the fire-fighter, then at the saws above him, and choked.

tbc…

A/N: I just remembered which date it is: Happy Birthday, Ianto Jones!