Torchwood: Divergence
Book One: Dychwelyd
Chapter 54
Down in the medical bay, Jack was not in the least bit liking what the new scan of Squishy was telling him. The thing was obviously a predator of some sort, likely hunting by using camouflage and ambush. He was contemplating whether they should find a way to humanely destroy it, when he heard several clanging thumps from the main Hub area. The immortal listened carefully, wondering what exactly had made the noise. Tipped over bin perhaps? But then he heard Ianto call his name, the younger man's voice rough, breathless and edged with pain.
The Captain was out of the Lab and over to the kitchenette stairs in a flash, alarmed to find his partner gasping for breath and doubled over in agony. Blood was now dripping from the cut on the Welshman's hand and his skin was going grey and clammy.
"Ianto," he quickly got his arms around the young Changeling, eased him down to lie partially in his lap as he settled to the decking and tried to get him to focus on his face. "What happened?"
"Venom..." Ianto choked, his throat obviously closing and making his breathing take on a strained wheeze when he tried to speak.
"Damn it," Harkness swore angrily. "This is bad. We don't know how to treat it, and until your body can metabolise or neutralise it, you're gonna die, revive, and die again. God, I hate poisons more than anything. I'm so sorry, Ianto... I don't know what to do to help."
"Hold... me..." the Archivist gasped; eyes fluttering closed as his air started to cut off entirely.
"Oh no... no..." Jack moaned, tears welling as visions of Thames House flashed through his mind. "Not like this... please..."
The twenty-six-year-old in his arms stopped breathing, his heartbeat stuttering to a halt seconds later. The American expected a Scieron portal to open beneath them, but there was no red light, no searing heat. Desolation clawed at his heart and soul, the tears winning free to streak down his face unnoticed. But then he saw a tiny flash of crimson along his lover's lash line, could feel the Changeling's skin start to burn with fever-like heat.
Fifteen full minutes seemed like a life time, but finally Ianto took a gasping breath and blinked dazedly. Jack quickly gathered the Welshman up close to his chest, struggled to his feet, and carried him across the Hub to the office then through to their room. He settled his beloved on the mattress, turned on the table lamp beside the bed and hurriedly moved to sit with the younger man. The former Time Agent carefully held his shivering partner, gently kissed his lips. He fervently hoped the Shadows had managed to clear the venom from their Guardian's system, but within minutes the still unfocused twenty-six-year-old was silently weeping in pain and choking for air.
Five more times Ianto died in his arms, each resurrection occurring just a little faster. Finally, when he took his reviving breath, he continued to radiate heat instead of going cold, the glow of Hell still strong in his eyes. And instead of lapsing into another venom induced bout of respiratory arrest when the light faded, the Welshman shakily turned to wrap his arms around his lover and simply shivered.
"Ianto?" Jack whispered hopefully; afraid he'd lose it completely if the younger man died one more time tonight.
"Poison... sucks..." Jones complained hoarsely, huddling closer to the former Time Agent's side.
"Yeah, it really does," Harkness agreed, laughing and crying at the same time as relief washed through him.
He simply held the obviously exhausted Changeling close, needing to hear his steady breathing and feel the rhythm of his heartbeat.
"Please don't cry, Cariad..." Ianto murmured softly, trying to return his partner's embrace with more strength. "It hurts to see you cry and know it's because of me..."
"I know, I'm sorry," the Captain replied shakily, pulling part of the covers over the trembling brunette beside him and stroking his hair. "But having you stop breathing six times in just over an hour really put a crack in that emotional dam I told you about. It was like having to relive the confrontation with the 456 over and over again. There was nothing I could do to save you then, and that still haunts me... probably always will."
"I wish..." Ianto breathed with a shudder. "I'm really glad I'll be able to stay with you forever now. But I still wish I could've stayed for you then... You lost so much because I died."
"More than I want to think about," Jack admitted, holding the younger man even closer. "But all I wanted, all I missed was you. Not Alice or Steven or Gwen or the Earth, not Torchwood or our erotic adventures or any of the things I've done and seen over the years... just you. I missed your warmth, Ianto, the constant comfort of your presence even when I pushed you away. God... the sound of your voice, the touch of your hair, the colour of your eyes, the softness and scent of your skin, your laugh, your smile, your twisted sense of humour... and that so carefully hidden, incredibly dirty mind of yours that can dredge innuendo from the most innocent things and make me feel like a fumbling old man at times.
"Your death two years ago left a gaping void in my world and no matter how far I tried to run, that empty space was still there...like a personal black hole slowly consuming my life. If I saw or did something amazing, I'd always catch myself thinking about how you would have loved or hated it. On the rare occasion I wound up in someone's bed, I kept comparing the experience to my times with you; usually ended up feeling guilty because you would've been jealous... once I even abandoned the whole thing midway because it wasn't you. I didn't realise how much you really meant to me, how much I loved you until you were gone. Eternity would have been a giant, cosmic torture chamber, if the Scieron hadn't decided to intervene and bring you back. Because nothing I tried worked."
The room was quiet for a moment, the two simply resting in one another's arms, then the younger immortal tipped his head back slightly to meet his partner's still tear blurred eyes.
"I love you too," Ianto stated solemnly, his blue-grey eyes mirroring the unshakable truth of his commitment to the former Time Agent. "More than I can ever say..."
"And more than I'll ever deserve," Jack whispered tightly.
Then he shifted enough to be able to kiss his lover, simply held him close and enjoyed the warmth. How much time passed neither man knew or really cared, but eventually the world outside their private haven began to whisper for attention.
"Jack..." Ianto called softly, still shivering off and on and radiating more heat than was normal if the Shadows inside him weren't trying to heal something. "What are we going to do about Squishy?"
And just like that they were Torchwood again.
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AN: Me thinks Squishy is not long for this world...
One more chapter after this… Book Two should start posting for Ianto's birthday in August.
Thank you to those reading the story. And thank you to those who have followed, favourited, and reviewed. NM