Torchwood: Divergence
Book One: Dychwelyd
Chapter 5
Around 2:30 am, Jack had become aware that Ianto's heartbeat was accelerating, even as his temperature rose and he grew weakly restless. So, he'd given the brunette a kiss on the back of the neck and promised to be gone for just a few minutes, before having hurried barefoot to the expanded medical bay. A quick search had yielded the plastic wrapped supplies he'd remembered Owen using on Rhys long ago for a gunshot wound. Harkness had returned to the bedroom to turn up the lights, and had roused Ianto enough to have carefully inserted a butterfly IV needle into a prominent vein on the back his left hand and started a 5% dextrose in water drip to combat the dehydration obviously wearing at the young Welshman. He'd done everything exactly the way he'd recalled Owen doing it... taped the port and tubing in place so the needle couldn't get pulled out, opened the tube reservoir two and a half clicks for a steady flow, and secured the bag of fluid to the empty picture hook in the wall above the side of the bed in lieu of a stand. Then he's stripped off the surgical gloves he'd donned for the task, dimmed the lights once more, settled back under the top covers, gently put his hand over the younger man's IV port to be sure it didn't catch on the blankets or otherwise get dislodged, and told him he'd be better soon.
Apparently, Harkness had then drifted into that state of not-really-sleep he most often found, because he was surprised to hear the main entrance rotating open what seemed like only seconds later. He looked up to see that the IV bag was less than a quarter full, and knew he should get up. But Ianto was finally in a good healing sleep, and he was incredibly reluctant to disturb him just yet. So, when Gwen quietly knocked on the bookcase camouflaged door then inched it open, she had the opportunity to see the two cuddled up on the bed together. A smile spread across her face and she stifled a giggle, wishing she had a camera handy to snap a picture with. Jack turned his head her way and was about to ask for five more minutes like a sleepy schoolboy, when his companion suddenly blinked awake and tensed warily, obviously able to tell they were no longer alone.
"Gwen's back," the Captain murmured, shifting to kiss the younger man on the temple and caress the knuckles of his IV pierced hand. "Just rest and I'll be back in a couple of minutes with another unit of fluids for you. After the team medic gets in, we'll see if it's safe for you to be up and maybe have a little breakfast, yeah?"
"But... who'll make the coffee...?" Ianto protested weakly, carefully easing over onto his back so he could see the other man in the room's dim light, trying not to jar the IV port he sported.
"Lois puts it on when she comes in," Cooper reassured, still smiling. "Not quite up to your high standards, but more than good enough till we have you sorted out and on the mend."
"Relax," Jack insisted, reaching over to settle the covers for the obviously still exhausted Archivist and freeing the IV tube from the duvet. "I swear we won't make you drink it, and the rest of us will simply make do until you're up to working your Barista Boy magic again. Try to sleep if you can... I won't be far."
Ianto looked unhappy with the whole situation, but obediently closed his eyes and relaxed into the pillows. Harkness snagged his footwear, shirt, braces and belt, then he and Cooper exited the room. They left the door standing open, continued out of the office into the main work area of the rebuilt Hub.
"Lots of changes I see," Jack commented with a half-smile. "Though I'm glad they duplicated the fountain overhead so the evaporative cooler for the Rift Machine works again. Who helped them get that repaired and running by the way?"
"Martha might know," Gwen shrugged. "UNIT was in charge of reconstruction on the Hub, including an enclosure for our pterodactyl... apparently Ianto got her into a warehouse before he went hunting you in London, sent UNIT a message asking for emergency asylum for her. I think they were happy to give her back. Excavation meant a bigger space to build in on this level, recreating the transport system to the Cold Storage banks and other morgues, and repairing the Safe to move it to the new office gave them trouble. But all in all, they did a fine job... though I'm sure they're a bit disappointed now.
"When we came in to reactivate Torchwood, none of the systems were up because no one had a working pass-code for the Mainframe, and the servers were locked as well as being housed beyond the levels they could access without a swipe card. I tried mine from before the explosion and it worked, but as soon as the computers came online, all of Tosh's security protocols kicked back in. They can't access the CCTV anymore or really anything else without my permission. It's all still set up from before the 456 incident, so only you, me, and Ianto can fully access the system or grant someone else access. I know I should've disabled the passwords, retina scans, and swipe cards for both of you. But I couldn't bring myself to do it, and honestly, I didn't think it would matter. I couldn't even label Ianto's profile as Deceased and do a Final Logout... I needed something from before to make the place feel right."
Harkness steadily met her gaze for a moment, and then opened his arms to offer an embrace. The petite brunette practically dove on him, pressing close to his chest and hiding her face against the hollow of his right shoulder. He held her tight for several minutes, then kissed the top of her head and let her go.
"You'll have to give Ianto and me the full tour of all the changes once he's up and around," the Captain insisted, fondly ruffling the woman's bangs back from her eyes and gently tugging a just past shoulder length lock to prove he'd noticed the shorter style. "For now, though, why don't you show me this team of yours?"
Cooper smiled and tuned to the nearest workstation, the one that had been and, in her mind, always would be Owen's, but wasn't currently in regular use. She touched a key to bring the system out of sleep mode, typed in a request for access to the sealed files that held everyone's personal information.
"I brought some Welsh Cakes if you want a morning snack," she offered as the system zipped through the process of downloading the folders she'd selected.
"Maybe later," Jack smiled, getting his shirt, socks, boots, belt and braces back on properly.
Gwen gave him a "suit yourself" look, punched up the profiles for her current team and stepped back so Torchwood's true leader could take a look.
"Commander Camille Johnson," Harkness nodded with a grimace and slight sneer. "Hard-nosed, ruthless, but well trained and apparently rabidly dedicated to duty. Turlough... don't know much about him other than a few vague references made by the Doctor, and he's obviously not offering to fill in the blanks from the look of his specs. I do know he's not originally from Earth, and that he picked up far too well on Time related technologies while he was aboard the TARDIS.
"Lois Habiba... I see Spears had the clout to get her record cleared. She must have made an amazing impression in spite of helping us, or she'd still be rotting in prison for treason. I hope she's not in over her head with this place, and can make a decent cup of coffee. And... ah, the lovely Martha Jones. Filling in again I take it? And what happened to the hyphenated last name from before I left?"
"She's looking for a qualified permanent medic for us," Cooper nodded. "Though between you and me, I really don't think she's looking very hard, considering the only way she'd agree to stay with UNIT after the whole Dalek nightmare was demanding they dismantle that Osterhagen thing which they weren't too pleased with. And apparently the Smith-Jones, Jones-Smith business was a security nightmare of epic proportions."
"Well, well... I see there's now an official Liaison for contact between UNIT and the local constabulary," Jack smirked. "Does that mean your PC Davidson is the go-between for the police and Torchwood as well?"
"Yes, he is," Gwen grinned. "Andy and Rhys are also our volunteer back up if we need extra bodies for something major. They've signed all the Institute's 'at your own risk' and 'loose lips get Retconned' forms. And they're learning all the arts of vague reassurances, fact blurring, talking in circles, and administering Retcon to help keep the public from panicking."
"Wow... not bad for only being back in business a few weeks, boss lady," the Captain chuckled, then went dead sober. "You did good, Gwen. I knew you could get Torchwood up and running again if anyone, and I'm glad you did."
The green-eyed brunette started to comment, but the big entryway door rotated open just then to admit a rather harried looking Lois Habiba.
"Sorry I'm late," she called as she headed straight for the raised kitchenette. "The water's not working in my flat and I had to wait for the building manager to get there before I could leave. Then I had to stop at the supermarket to pick up coffee because I remembered we were almost out yesterday, and I got a text from Turlough saying he has an errand to run but should be in shortly. I'll get the..."
The young woman's voice faded to silence when she finally looked out across the centre of the Hub and saw not only Gwen in the room but Jack as well.
"You can put the coffee on in a minute," Cooper stated with a reassuring smile, waving the opening gaping twenty-eight-year-old over. "Come on down and I'll give you a proper introduction."
A wide-eyed Habiba hurried down onto the floor plates nearby, self-consciously smoothing her tightly braided hair and pulling her rose grey jumper down to neaten her appearance.
"Jack, Lois Habiba... our receptionist upstairs in the rebuilt tourist information kiosk, general errand runner, Hub tidier, and communications co-ordinator, currently learning the systems down here to help with navigation along the line," Gwen stated in her best hostess voice. "Lois, Captain Jack Harkness... the Torchwood Institute's true heart and soul, and the most experienced operative it's ever had for reasons you sussed after what the 456 did in London. He arrived late last night after everyone else had gone home. He's been away for a while on a long overdue holiday."
"Captain," Lois nodded politely and shook the hand he offered her. "I saw you briefly in the lock-up after they cleared the MI5 building. Quite a shock considering, till Bridget Spears came to have a word with me and explained a few things. Still... the way you looked then, and when that group came to pull you out. No offense, Captain, but I'm surprised you came back at all."
"Honestly, Miss Habiba," Harkness admitted openly. "I'm as surprised as you are. I really only came back for one reason, and if you ladies will excuse me for a few minutes, he needs to have his IV changed."
"I'll just go get the coffee going then," the young receptionist stated with an uncertain smile. "And you can call me Lois, Captain."
"Well, Lois, you can call me Jack," the brunette smiled, his blue eyes shining as he headed toward the Autopsy Lab. "And I like my coffee strong enough to keep the entire population of Cardiff awake for a week."
"How is Mr. Jones?" Lois queried Gwen hesitantly. "I mean, is it really him back from the dead? Is it dangerous to have him here?"
"Ianto's not feeling quite himself yet, but according to Martha's DNA analysis last night, it truly is him," Cooper confirmed quietly, walking with the younger woman as she returned to the kitchenette. "There are still a lot of questions about his apparent resurrection and return, but we're fairly sure he's not a threat to Torchwood or the Earth in general. He's in the room behind the office sleeping right now, though I'm sure Martha will insist on moving him to the medical area when she gets in. He's obviously traumatized and apparently suffering from some kind of system shock, but he should be fine in a few days."
"I'm glad," Habiba smiled. "I could tell he was really important to you and the Captain... though the look in the Captain's eyes earlier makes me think the reasons are a lot more personal for him than what I'd assumed. But it seems like a good thing that he's back, even if I don't understand the how."
"You're not alone on that point," Gwen confided, starting to turn and head back down to the workstations.
"Um..." Lois made a small 'don't go yet' noise, then continued when the older woman looked her way again. "When he said how he likes his coffee, what exactly does that mean?"
"Just make it double strong of your usual," Cooper laughed, trotting down the stairs as the main door rolled open once more. "Only Ianto ever knew the secret to brewing Jack's 'Industrial Strength' coffee, and how to use the main machine instead of just the side pot. And until he's feeling up to handling the duty, our good Captain will just have to make do with what he gets. Oh... I've a bag of Welsh Cakes here on the rail by station one, help yourself."
"Thank you," Turlough responded as he came into the Hub. "I didn't have time for breakfast this morning."
"Went to the Cleaners instead?" Gwen prodded, noting that the red head was carrying a hanger-topped black vinyl garment bag over his shoulder. "Where ever did they get that old style packaging? I thought they all went 'green' and started using the returnable cotton bags the middle of last year."
"This has been in the back room for quite some time," Turlough explained, handing the surprisingly weighty item to his boss so she could read the customer information tag. "I thought the items might be needed, and they'd long since been paid for. The old man who runs the place a couple of blocks from here said he'd been holding them per standing instructions, till the owner or someone with Tourist Board ID came after them. Good job we all got those as standard cover for this place."
Gwen stared at the age faded tag secured to the hanger. The package contained two full suits including shirts, ties and a third pair of trousers, and had been set for pick up nearly two years ago on the day after the Hub had been destroyed... obviously Ianto had never gotten by to collect them. It was brilliant of Turlough to have found them and brought them in, but at the same time Cooper was sad, because she knew the suits would never fit properly with the severely depleted physical state her friend was currently in. And appearance had always meant so much to him.
"Good call," she smiled at the nearby red head none the less, turning toward the private work space that hid the Hub's only actual bedroom. "Let me put these where he can get at them when he's back on his feet."
She strode into the office, politely knocked on the once more closed door before slowly inching it open to find the lights fully on.
"It's okay," Jack called quietly, sitting on the side of the bed with his arms around his blanket draped partner, who'd apparently been sick again if the carefully positioned bin was any indication. "He swallowed a lot of blood when he came through to this world again, and this will keep happening until he manages to purge it all. So, the IV's actually a good thing, 'cause nothing else is likely to stay down for long."
"Well," Gwen breathed, quickly hanging the dry-cleaning bag in the nearly hidden wardrobe in the wall between the door and the loo. "Let me clean this up in case you need it again, yeah?"
"I'm sorry," Ianto whispered as she reached for the bin, his head bowed in obvious misery, face hidden by his unusually long hair. "I'm supposed to be the one cleaning up, not you..."
"You're not the Torchwood janitor, pet," Cooper chided gently, not seeing the Archivist wince at her choice of endearment. "Besides, I've had a full year's practice cleaning up after my daughter, so I think I can manage."
"You had a little girl?" Jones queried, his voice barely audible as she ran water into the waste paper bin and emptied it into the toilet several time before bringing it back to the bedside.
"Rhys says she looks just like Gwen," Jack supplied in confirmation as their friend returned the now clean bin to its former position. "What's in the bag?"
"Dry-cleaning," the raven-haired woman stated innocently, then moved to sit on the other side of Ianto and put her arms around him as well, careful of the IV in the back of his left hand. "Turlough picked them up from their storeroom this morning. Mr. Grant has been waiting almost two years for you or someone with Tourist Board ID to fetch them, 'per standing instructions' he said."
"I never did get 'round for them," Jones murmured, knowing the items were his and exactly what they were. "I don't think they'll ever fit properly now though... two of my favourite three-pieces too..."
"Ah, don't worry," Harkness reassured. "You can slum in some of my clothes for a while and we'll get your suits altered later if we need to. And speaking of my stuff, I chucked my bags behind the TIC desk upstairs when I came in last night. Any chance your team will be up to grabbing them for me?"
"I'll ask Turlough," Gwen promised, leaning over to brush Ianto's hair back and kiss him on the cheek before gaining her feet once more. "Coffee's on, Welsh Cakes are plated... shall I bring something back for you, Jack? Maybe some un-chilled ginger beer for the ailing tummy beside you?"
"All sounds good to me," Harkness nodded, hugging his partner when the Archivist declined the offer. "We'll have our breakfast such as it is, and if you think you're okay to try sleeping again I'll go check out the new personnel while they work."
Ianto nodded docilely, still too ill to argue with much of anything at the moment, and if it made Jack happy that's all he really needed to know. He let himself be put back to bed and made comfortable, simply enjoyed the brief but obviously loving kiss the Captain gifted him with before the man dimmed the lights once more and prepared to quit the room.
"Door's open, buddy," the former Time Agent reassured. "Just call out if you need me."
Then he and Gwen were headed through the office into the main Hub, leaving Jones to his much-needed rest. They emerged to find the rest of the team now present and waiting expectantly by the workstations. Martha was practically dancing in place with obvious excitement, so when Jack stepped onto the grating in front of her and smiled, she reached out to hug him like a long-lost brother.
"Lois said you were here," she grinned. "'Bout time you got back to work, slacker."
"I'm glad to see you too," Harkness chuckled, then looked beyond her. "Johnson... you'll have to pardon my rather mixed feelings about having you here. I'm definitely happier that you're on Torchwood's side this round instead of against us though. And Turlough... the 'Escaped Exile' I presume. Mighty handy with Space-Time broadcasting for your age."
"Gwen kept mentioning that you should know about the situation with Mr. Jones," the slender red head shrugged, readily shaking the hand the brunette offered him. "Martha actually brought up your wrist strap and said you'd called it a Vortex Manipulator, which screamed Time Agency. Wasn't sure the first message made it to you, but obviously the one I sent last night did.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Captain Harkness. And before you ask... yes, I'm really twenty-nine; yes, I was exiled through Time and Space when I was sixteen as a war criminal when my uncle started a civil war to oust my father, and I have the brand scar to prove it. Yes, I still communicate with the Doctor on rare occasions; no, I didn't want to stay on my home world when we reclaimed it, so I let my younger brother have the position; no, I don't have any enemies to worry about hunting me anymore. Yes, I really do detest being referred to as 'ginger'; and no, I'm not interested in men no matter how charming they might be or what level of advanced pheromones they put off."
There was a somewhat shocked silence in the Hub for a moment, then Jack laughed and clapped the young alien on the shoulder.
"Oh, you're good," he grinned. "Torchwood-Cardiff is lucky to have you. Looks like you're all on your way to being a strong team for Gwen."
"Oh, no, Jack," Cooper protested immediately. "You are not leaving again, and I'm not staying in the hot seat. Torchwood is yours to run. No one knows as much about it or the Rift as you do."
"Actually, there is someone who knows this place better than I do," Harkness replied evenly, squarely meeting her gaze. "And whether I stay or go is going to be up to him. If Ianto wants to remain part of Torchwood once he recovers, fine. If not..."
"Speaking of the recently risen Mr. Jones," Johnson stated briskly, breaking the building tension. "I believe we have work to do to determine how he came to be back among the living, and what the creatures were that we saw in the graveyard."
"I'll check on the tests that were still running last night," Martha offered, hoping to get everyone refocused. "Lois, why don't you bring the coffee to the Boardroom and we can check the results from there. Then I'll know if I need to be doing any more in-depth studies."
"Ianto's in the room behind the office," Jack supplied, purposefully turning away from Gwen. "I've got him on an IV for dehydration, and he's been vomiting up the blood he swallowed coming through whatever portal was used. He's been through a really long nightmare from what little he told us last night, and is pretty deep in system shock still. Though he did manage to retract the wings last night."
"Any signs of alien possession or serious internal injuries?" Martha pressed, heading for the medical bay to bring up her system and remote it to the Boardroom.
"Nothing to suggest any kind of alien control," Harkness reassured. "He had a minor seizure of some sort last night when he got overly agitated, but I think it's because he's suffering from residual sensory overload due to the spatial anomaly he passed through. He's sleeping at the moment, so if any new tests can wait 'til he wakes up on his own; I think it's best to let him rest."
Martha nodded her understanding and after a few minutes, they all ended up in the Boardroom with coffee and the Welsh Cakes Gwen had brought.
"Okay..." Jones began, bringing up the information from the computer in the Autopsy Lab. "Thanks to the 49th Century analyser UNIT mistook for an autoclave when they rebuilt the Lab, DNA testing confirms that we are dealing with the genuine article, and preliminary exams have proven that he is 100% alive, not just reanimated. All organs appear to be functioning normally, his vitals are acceptable though his blood pressure's somewhat variable and his temperature is a bit high, probably both due to dehydration. Now, here's the tricky bit... his weight is registering incredibly low, even for the visible signs of weight loss, and he's got an unidentifiable alien substance woven into every fibre of his being.
"It appears to be organic, though I'll need a much closer look to be sure, but it doesn't register as possessing any form of DNA or RNA of its own, which precludes it from being any kind of life form we're familiar with. Exactly what it is and what it does I haven't a clue. So, I'd like to do some more precise scans, get a little more blood to test, take some better tissue samples if possible. And whatever that stuff is, it wasn't introduced via injection or inhalation. It looks to have been carefully placed by means of surgical implantation and allowed to spread. If Ianto remembers anything that happened to him, I'd really like to know the details."
"He said they chained him down and cut him open over and over," Gwen offered when the other woman finished. "That they used hot steel knives and apparently no anaesthetic."
"He also said he spent extended periods covered in blood," Jack added soberly. "Great quantities of it, and not just his own from the way he talked. And he told us that 'they' tore apart the muscles in his back, broke open his shoulder blades and 'wrapped it all in shadow so the wings would grow'. I see an awful lot of tiny, hair-fine scars on his upper back that he didn't have before Thames House. And not random marks either, but almost like some sort of set pattern or alien writing."
"The creatures we saw in the cemetery appeared to be made of shadow," Turlough murmured thoughtfully. "Perhaps they used something like their own substance to bring him back to life and make it possible for him to pass through that gateway they created. There are several species on the rim worlds of Cerberus that use cellular grafting to survive on other planets, instead of relying on suits or other easily damaged equipment."
"That's possible," Harkness nodded. "But those races do so by choice. This was done to Ianto with dubious consent and only vague explanation, and I find it very disturbing that there weren't any Rift spikes associated with the portal they used. We know antilositic energy can create that kind of power, which would explain the use of so much blood. But even that would affect the Rift when it was actually opened, because of the spatial warping it obviously caused."
"And what exactly are the creatures responsible?" Johnson queried pointedly. "Somehow I don't think they did this out of the goodness of their hearts. There has to be a reason. But there's no way to even form a half-assed guess at their motives, if we don't know what we're dealing with."
"One thing I can tell you is that they're very thorough with their clean up," Martha interjected. "The soil samples from last night show no signs of the mixed blood we all know was there in such massive quantities, no anomalous radiation, energy or chemical traces, nothing to indicate anything ever happened in that graveyard aside from the toppled headstones. And Ianto's blood is clean. Those little black specks don't register as anything, and there are no signs of cellular damage from extended hypoxia after death, no pathogens or toxic substances of any kind. There's nothing to track back to those things. Not even the blood we swabbed off of him on site. It's the same as what Andy sent me before; only with a scary amount of Ianto's mixed in now. Plus, on a cellular level, he hasn't aged a day from when he died in London, so something they did obviously kept him in a form of stasis."
Silence settled over the Boardroom, then Gwen looked pointedly at Jack and frowned. Harkness simply met her gaze with stony neutrality, but finally spoke up.
"Okay..." he stated evenly. "Turlough, we aren't alien squeamish here. Use your own sources to do some trans-Universal library searches for any references to the Scions of the Void, or instances of individuals apparently coming back from the dead possessing retractable wings. Johnson, get the files on the rest of the dead from the MI5 building so we know what was found in their bloodstreams and tissues that's missing from Ianto's. Lois, go through all the video footage from the graveyard including what recorded last night, edit it together as one long clip. Gwen, you and me are going to help Martha with any tests she needs to run on Ianto. He's not in a really happy place right now, and having some moral support should help make the process easier."
The team broke up to start their separate tasks, accepting Harkness as their leader without a hint of hesitation. The only question was if he'd stay once this job was finished.
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AN: So… more bits and pieces come to light, but the big picture is still a mystery.
Thank you to those reading the story. And thank you to those who have followed, favourited, and reviewed. NM
