Torchwood: Divergence
Book One: Dychwelyd

Chapter 6

Ianto lay on the semi-inclined exam table in the Autopsy Lab, clad in a white morgue gown with a unit of Isotonic solution slowly seeping into his veins to supplement the ones of D5W and Saline he'd already received. He'd managed to make it to the table under his own power with Jack's support, still incredibly weak and unsteady. And after a less than auspicious start when he'd asked for a bin and vomited more old blood into the quickly accessed autopsy pan, the procedures had been going fairly smoothly. Martha had drawn six more vials of blood for testing, done detailed scans of his entire body, put monitor leads on to track his heart rate and brain waves; checked his blood pressure, pupil response, reflexes, temperature, range of motion on all limbs, visual acuity, cognitive abilities, and requested a urine sample when he felt the need to go. He was currently resting while she set all the immediately available collected data to collate, simply lying back with his eyes closed, listening to Jack and Gwen question the young doctor about other tests she was planning. Vaguely Ianto heard them mention something about local anaesthetic and tissue samples, but he was still too exhausted at the moment to fully register what they meant.

Then he heard the hiss and chime of metal against metal... like a blade being drawn from a sheath. Suddenly he could feel the scorching heat of close flames again, smell hot steel and boiling blood, and alarms began to sound around him when his heart rate accelerated drastically as his eyes snapped open.

"No!" Ianto choked.

The young Welshman acted instinctively, seeing only glaring light and shadowy shapes, trying to escape the searing blades he feared were coming for him. He rolled away, felt himself falling then hit the hard tile of the medical bay on his right side with a bone jarring crack, felt a brief sting as the IV was ripped from the back of his left hand and several monitor leads pulled away from his chest and face. He was hyperventilating, completely disoriented, and terrified that everything the night before truly had been a dream.

"Jack!"

It was a cry of pure panic and desperation, a call for help he feared would never be answered. But then there were familiar hands touching him, arms holding him, a longed-for voice calling his name.

"Ianto," Harkness held the obviously terrified twenty-six-year-old close, having just missed keeping him from rolling off the table and now worried he'd broken bones because of the awkward fall he'd taken. "I've got you, it's all right... you're safe... don't cry, I'm here..."

"I..." Ianto gasped, struggling to focus on the man who held him. "I heard the knives... I..."

Jack could feel the younger man's spine stiffening, heard his breathing turn to small choked gasps, and tightened his embrace even as he hurriedly shifted to better support the Welshman's head. Ianto went into a seizure, just as he had the night before, and again the Captain restrained him until the convulsions stopped. When it was over, he cradled the now violently trembling Archivist against his chest, repositioned his grip and stood up. He settled the young man on the exam table once more, Martha scrambling to remove any remaining monitor leads and try to get a new IV needle in place.

"You're okay," Jack reassured, taking the damp towel Gwen offered and gently bathing Ianto's face. "There won't be any more knives, buddy, I promise. All you heard was equipment shifting when Martha was looking for the biopsy punch. Everything's fine."

"Need a hand?" Johnson called from the top of the stairs above them, viewing the scene with narrowed eyes and pursed lips.

"No, we're fine," Gwen stated calmly, helping their doctor bandage the tear in the back of their friend's left hand from the IV's unceremonious removal. "Just a little PTSD, yeah? He'll be all right in a few minutes. Thanks for checking."

The black clad woman nodded, then headed back around toward her workstation. In the bay, Ianto was finally relaxing somewhat, though he still seemed rather dazed. A quick scan didn't detect any broken or cracked bones, so his partner moved in to stroke his hair once more.

"You feel up to finishing this so I can get you in bed?" Jack enquired gently.

"You... sure pick your... moments..." Jones replied shakily, making the older man grin. "What's next?"

"All I still need to do is get a couple of tissue samples from your back where the wings were," Martha supplied, reaching out to lightly touch the young Welshman's shoulder. "But that can wait if you don't think you can handle it."

"Local and a core punch?" the twenty-six-year-old on the table asked with a shudder.

"Yeah," the lab coat clad woman nodded. "Think you're up for it?"

"Make it good," Ianto assented tightly, casting an uncertain glance at the man beside him. "I don't know if I could take it more than once."

"All in one shot," Harkness reassured, carefully easing the younger brunette up into a sitting position and letting him lean against his chest. "Take my hand... there, now you can be sure that you're safe here in the Hub, and Martha will be extra careful."

"Gwen, can you hold the tray of Formalin jars for me?" the young doctor urged as she swept her patient's long, loosely curling hair forward over either shoulder and undid the top tie of his gown to expose his upper back. "Let me get a local going where I need the samples from. Okay, small pinch and maybe a little burn... here where each wing was, and one between for comparison. We'll let that numb up a bit. Still doing okay?"

"Fine..." Ianto breathed, his face hidden by his currently past shoulder length hair.

"Now, considering the seizure activity you've experienced," Martha began cautiously. "And the fact that your Alpha and Beta waves went off the scale when you were scared a few minutes ago; if you think you can tolerate me poking about just one more time after this, I'd really like to do a lumbar puncture to be sure there's no hidden neurological damage. Checking the cerebrospinal fluid will show that much better than any scan."

"Just hurry... please..." Ianto replied, trying not to panic again.

"Right," the lab coat clad former Companion agreed. "You'll feel pressure when I take the tissue samples, but you shouldn't feel any pain because I used a train load of local. Let me know immediately if it actually does hurt."

The grip on Jack's hand tightened considerably when Martha began using the biopsy punch, but the twenty-six-year-old subjected to it never made a sound. Harkness winced at the size of the wounds the process left behind, watched as the young doctor quickly covered each in turn with a wad of antiseptic soaked cotton wool before the welling blood could trickle down her patient's back. Each sample went into a pre-marked jar, Gwen closing the lids tight and putting them over with the vials of blood taken earlier.

"Very good," Martha smiled, not aware that her patient was in pain. "A daub of ointment and some nice sticking plasters... all done. I won't stitch or staple these, I find they tend to do better open and should heal up in about a week. Now for the last bit, I've put the table flat behind you and need to have you lay on your left side, knees to chest so your back's rounded, okay? And when I rub the spot, take a deep breath and hold it."

Ianto simply nodded once, shifted according to direction and turned his face into the thin pillow the physician had placed on the exam table, still holding his partner's hand in a bruising grip. The doctor exposed the lower portion of his back and counted the vertebrae, rubbed the correct area with topical anaesthetic, then used the special T-shaped guide with the incredibly long, thin needle the procedure called for. She slipped it through the space between the bony spinus process of the L3 and L4 vertebrae to carefully extract fluid from the spinal canal.

"Brilliant," Martha breathed once the necessary number of drops of the clear liquid had fallen into the collection vessel and she eased the needle out once more. "All done with the sharp instruments. Take some regular breaths now and just relax for a bit, yeah?"

She disinfected the puncture mark and quickly refastened the loose gown ties then turned to transfer the sample into the proper vial for processing, registered Gwen moving past her toward the table as she capped it. The young physician whirled back around when she heard the unexpected sound of retching, found Jack supporting a shaking Ianto where he sat up on one elbow, with Cooper holding the pan in place while keeping the young man's hair back from his face. It was more bile than blood this time, but the ill twenty-six-year-old was crying when the episode passed, his face ashen.

"It's over," Harkness soothed as he used the damp towel from earlier to wipe the sweat and tears from his partner's face, gently kissing his forehead. "No more, I promise. I'm here, buddy... you don't have to be brave... I know..."

"Oh, my God," Martha gaped. "Did he feel the lumbar puncture?"

"I... I felt... everything..." Ianto panted, hiding his face against Jack's shoulder when the older man eased him upright and took him into his arms.

"But the local..." their medic began uncertainly.

"Didn't work," Harkness confirmed, displaying his visibly bruised hand, the young Welshman's fingers clearly defined in the marks.

"Bloody hell, why didn't you say so?" Martha blurted, horrified and irritated in equal measures.

"I just... wanted it to be... over with..." Ianto hissed, crying harder and trying to hide it. "I'm sorry..."

"Crap," Martha swore softly, stripping off her surgical gloves and moving to the exam table to carefully stroke the back of the young man's head. "Don't apologise, that's my job for having a lousy bedside manner. Momentary possession by Owen Harper, yeah? Look... take a few minutes to just breathe, nice deep breaths. Then we'll help Jack get you settled back in bed so you can try to rest some more, okay?"

"I'll give you a hand cleaning up," Gwen offered, wanting to give the two men a little space. "Go rinse the pan out again."

"I am so sorry," Jack murmured, gently rubbing the younger man's back well above the point where the spinal tap had been done but below the tissue sample wounds. "Having you back is like being able to breathe again after too long under water. But what you must have endured... the torture those creatures put you through... You suffered it all for me, and I can't ever make it right."

"Just hold me, please..." Ianto whispered tearfully, his breath hitching as he started to shiver again. "It's enough... just knowing it's real... feeling your arms around me... hearing your heartbeat..."

"You're gonna make me cry too if you keep that up," Harkness smiled, more than willing to comfort the traumatised twenty-six-year-old.

"I don't mean to cling," Jones breathed shakily, obviously trying to regain his composure. "I know you hate that. But I still feel so... disconnected. Everything seems distant somehow... like I'm sleepwalking. I'm so tired, but I'm afraid if I sleep, I'll wake to find myself back in chains on that altar, and I just can't take anymore... no more fire and heat, wet leather gags, knives cutting me, and being covered in gallons of blood... I know I'll break..."

"Don't be afraid to sleep," Jack stated firmly. "All those horrors are over now. You're safe in Cardiff again with me, and you need to rest or you'll never recover. If I have to bunk in with you for every catnap till those ugly dreams fade, I will do that so you'll know you're home and I'm right beside you."

"But you rarely sleep..." Ianto pointed out softly, his voice tinged with guilt. "Plus, you have important things to do... And... I need you to hold me... but it's not proper in the workplace... you always said..."

"Nothing is more important to me than getting you back to your old self," the Captain insisted. "Not Torchwood, not the Rift, not the Doctor, not anything. You, Ianto Jones, are the only reason I came back to the Earth. And I can come up with a whole lot of interesting one-on-one scenarios for us to try while I'm guarding your sleep. Hang public decorum. Everyone here knows about our relationship and they're all adults. My holding or kissing you is no different than if it was Gwen and Rhys, or Martha and Mickey. So, relax and stop worrying... I've got your back. Now let's get you over to the office so you can crawl under the covers again, yeah?"

"Okay..." the young Welshman squeaked, shifting so he could swing his legs off the exam table.

"Don't bother," Jack reassured, altering his hold on the underweight brunette so he could pick him up. "You weigh next to nothing right now, and I'm not chancing having you fall on the stairs. Gwen, could you grab the IV bag for us?"

"Got it," Cooper called, coming to take charge of the item and start for the stairs out of the bay to keep the unit of Isotonic higher than the IV port now positioned in her friend's right hand. "I'll see you two settled, and the rest of us will just keep on with what we're doing."

Martha watched the threesome exit her area and head across the Hub toward the office. She and Gwen hadn't been able to hear most of what had passed between the two 'Lost Lambs' of Torchwood, but what they had managed to pick out made one point crystal clear. Whatever path lay ahead for Ianto Jones, Captain Jack Harkness would be walking it beside him... and the rest of the Universe could be damned.

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AN: Yes, I'm picking on poor Ianto (a necessary evil, I fear). More will be revealed soon though.
Thank you to those reading the story. And thank you to those who have followed, favourited, and reviewed. NM