39
Gwen was starting to feel like she had miscalculated but was unable to admit it as she strode along. She was hot, sticky and her feet were killing her. Maybe the cowboy boots were not such a good idea, even if they did look killer. Rhys had warned her, had pointed out their lack of durability and that had made her more determined to wear them. Right now they were dusty and stuffed. She would give anything to have an old pair of slippers.
The argument between those following behind her about the lack of transport was starting to grate and she was about to swing and give them a mouthful when ahead of them they saw something on the ground. Like a lump of dirty rags flapping in the breeze, for a moment she thought it had been a sack of something rolled off a trailer until she saw a claw-like hand reaching out into the road.
Gwen ran towards it but Ianto's voice in her head muttered about contamination so she then slowed to let the others run past her as she saw the unnatural colour of the hand. Believe me she saw bodies before and this… was not right. She stood a little way back watching as the others fell to their knees, reaching out eagerly as they rolled the man over only to recoil with horror at the state of the corpse.
Green, bloated and the stench was terrible. Black ooze from the ears, nose and mouth was clearly blood but… more like oil. Gross and clearly a few days old. This fact alone screamed of the fact that those left in the village had not… or could not… come for him.
A couple of them rushed to the side of the road to vomit as another started to weep softly. Gwen started to back away as she looked at them with the same horror as the body. They had touched it… they were… contaminated. She started to hyperventilate then she began to back up the road as she reconsidered her actions and by the time they all turned to ask her what to do next, she was already gone.
Gwen ran like she had never run before, her gasps not helping as she wished she had never come out from the safety of HER village.
.
.
Ianto seemed to have settled into an uneasy sleep as Jack sat stroking the pale slender hand in his own. Myfanwy was starting to struggle to breathe and Hamish was more than upset now, begging Owen for something else to do.
Jack knew why Hamish was uncomfortable yet determined. Jack agreed, it was a weird state of affairs to be so invested in someone he had not known very long. Especially in this world where everyone was expandable and likely to leave or die. Jack was never good at relationships ya know. He knew damned well that had he met Ianto under different circumstances the man would have run like the wind from him, the Heddlu special Division that only thinly disguises the Torchwood Brand would have been smelt out in seconds by this being and Jack would never have known the beauty and strength of these creatures.
THIS creature.
Myfanwy was not the only one whose human form was dazzling.
Jack wondered if there was a chance to get though this, is they stood any chance at all or was it only a matter of time before this enigma grew weary of him and finally saw that he was all bullshit and bluster as he had been his entire, long life. Sooner or later Ianto would sigh and shake his head, leave him. Right?
Finally Ianto woke, his sharp intake of breath drawing Jack out of his musing to smile down and lean over him "hey good looking."
The blood shot eyes peering up from the two piss holes in the snow did not agree with that but appreciated the lie. Jack looked deep into them and saw recognition. He saw the intelligence of someone waking from a bad dream. Ianto smiled weakly then croaked out "Cariad? Any soup? I am famished."
Owen swung from Myfanwy's bedside to watch as Jack got some beef broth from a flash and lifted the cup to Ianto's lips, everyone watching as Ianto devoured it with greed. Then Jack helped him back into the bed as Ianto sighed softly that it was good and drifted off into a deep sleep.
Owen approached and held out the scanner "Temperature still slightly elevated but…no longer in the danger range. Shit. I think he's shaking if off."
Jack could not find words for his relief, preferring to lift that gentle hand up to his lips, pleased to find it a little warmer.
Owen was right.
Ianto was recovering.
.
.
Gwen was nearly there, nearly home and she was trying to breathe, not sob as she rounded the corner and approached the rock pile.
She did not expect the dirt kicking up mere moments before she heard the shot.
What?
No.
They had to let her back in!