Torchwood: Divergence
Book One: Dychwelyd
Chapter 47
The Rift had settled considerably over the past couple of weeks, but what it was depositing across the city was still volatile at best, flat out murderous and destructive as worst. Today had started early, with one of the latter. It had been 4:36 am; cold, rainy, pitch black, and Torchwood had already been hard at work. Luckily all of the sodium lamps lining the paths in the park outside Cyncoed had cast enough of a glow to fight by.
Jack and Ianto had responded to the single lifeform Rift alert, only to have found a huge, six-legged beast covered in short rust coloured fur, with the head of a dire wolf and the tail of a T-Rex. Harkness had identified it as an Arcturian Death Hound, a bio-engineered canine monstrosity used for battle on distant worlds. Fortunately, this one hadn't been wearing the blast resistant armour they normally sported for conflicts, but it had been enraged by their interruption of the meal it had been making of an unsuspecting pre-dawn jogger. And the rounds from the MP5's had only made it angrier. Super thick hided, even heavier boned, it had needed something besides the fire-power they'd brought to take it down... before UNIT's clean-up crew arrived.
So, Ianto had opted for the only choice they'd had left, having put his coat, tie and jacket in the SUV for easier movement and engaged the creature on foot at close range. The Scieron broadsword had definitely done a better job than the assault rifles, but the Hound's berserker-like state had given it even more speed and power than usual. The fight had stretched for nearly twelve full minutes, Harkness having continued to plug away with his H&K whenever he'd had a clear shot at the thing's face or underbelly. Ianto had finally managed to get his sword in behind a foreleg to pierce the heart, released the blade to let it dissolve like acid in the wound. And the Hound had gone down with a dreadful howl... but it had succeeded in catching the tired, back-pedalling Changeling with its massive tail as it had died, and had slammed the young man to the ground with bone breaking force. The Archivist had struggled from beneath the appendage, somehow managed to get to his feet and staggered back over toward his partner, however it had been immediately evident that his injuries were quite serious.
The drive back to the Hub had been frantic, Jack having called Martha in early to treat the twenty-six-year-old who now lay on his side atop the exam table in the medical bay. Ianto was shivering, soaking wet, frighteningly pale, and in obvious agony. He was also coughing up blood and having a hard time breathing, the oxygen the Captain had put on him upon their arrival doing little to help. Martha came hurrying down into the Autopsy Lab, already putting on surgical gloves. She shifted her patient onto his back and partially inclined the top of the table, unceremoniously stripping open the grey cotton dress shirt he was wearing with a scattering of buttons. The young Welshman's entire lower chest and most of his abdomen were covered in terrible blue-black bruises, the bottom three ribs on both sides collapsed in toward his lungs.
"I'm going to put in chest tubes, Ianto," Martha explained after a quick pass with the Bekaran, reaching for a drawer full of equipment and pulling containers from a cabinet set into one wall. "You've got extensive internal bleeding, and I need to clear some of it so I can see what's actually damaged. I don't dare put these into your lungs, but getting the pressure off them by clearing what's in your chest and abdominal cavities should help you breathe at least a little better. Jack, if you don't mind risking broken bones, hold his hands up out of the way."
The young doctor used a large bore biopsy punch to get through the skin and muscle on the eternal twenty-six-year-old's right side, inserted a straight-line trocar to enlarge the opening and prevent the Changeling's Shadows from trying to heal the wound while she worked, then fed surgical tubing through the device's hollow centre. She grabbed the scanner again, used the murky image to estimate where she was feeding the pinched off tubing into her patient's body. Once it was in a reasonably satisfactory position, she eased the trocar out of his flesh and carefully slid it off over the tubing after releasing the clamp. Finally, she inserted a large non-needle tipped syringe into the open end of the tubing, and drew back on the plunger. Dark blood raced along the tubing toward her, and she quickly shoved the end into the special top of the big collection bag she'd brought over, and sat the clear poly container on the floor for maximum gravity assisted flow. The process was repeated on the left side, her patient stifling all but a choked moan both times. The insertion sites were packed to keep them in place, and then they waited.
Several scans later, Martha came to face the two rain wet immortals and shook her head.
"Some diffuse organ damage, serious impact trauma to the lower lungs, broken ribs," she reported. "The drains are about all I can do without surgery, and the Shadows are already repairing things at a decent pace. Good that I didn't try to tube your lungs, they probably would have both collapsed with the damage they've got. So, leave the oxygen on, I'll warm you a blanket and let you rest. But you'll be spitting blood for a while as it clears from your lungs, so keep a pan handy. Once the drains stop flowing it should be safe for you to get up, just be careful for the rest of the day, yeah?"
The team medic stepped away, Harkness stroking the younger man's cheek with a sigh of relief, glad the Changeling was recovering.
"What did this?" Martha queried from beside the special sterilising cupboard several alien-made 33rd Century blankets were stored in, pulling two out and activating their heat settings.
"Arcturian Death Hound," Jack explained, using a towel to rub the water from his injured partner's hair, face and neck, then using it on himself. "Bio-engineered six-legged canine killing machine, about the size of a large African elephant, and luckily not wearing the blast armour they're usually in for battle. He managed to take it down, but it slammed him with its tail as it went. Kind of like having a good-sized tree fall on him."
"Wow," Martha blinked, "Don't think that's one I've ever seen. I suppose the damage could've been worse then. As it is, Ianto, you're radiating high heat, the organs are healing, and the ribs look to be popping back into place on their own."
"I can tell..." the shivering Guardian gasped, flinching in obvious pain as the team medic covered him with one of the soft, temperature regulated blankets before she draped the other over his partner's back and shoulders.
"Wish I could help with that," Martha sighed, hating to see the Welshman suffer. "I could try Ketamine... it's normally used on animals, but is fine for humans in reasonable doses."
"Won't work..." Ianto whispered tightly, choking back a cry as another rib returned to its normal position with an audible crunch. "Nothing does... the... the Scieron cells... neutralise it..."
"Well bugger," Martha swore softly, then smiled hopefully. "I could try full sedation."
"Same thing..." her patient groaned, closing his eyes in misery.
"Where Medicine fails, I prevail," Jack piped up, leaning over to engage his lover in a long, passionate kiss.
"That works," their doctor chuckled as she stripped off her surgical gloves, noting that the injured Welshman's breathing eased and healing accelerated noticeably as his heart rate climbed. "I'll leave you to the pain management then, and go check the Rift activity. Shout if you need me."
"Will do," Harkness promised with a grin, tucking the warm blanket closer around Ianto's shivering body and dragging over the chair backed stool to sit on.
Martha headed up toward the work stations, leaving the pair alone to practice their own unique brand of healing.
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AN: Sorry, I didn't detail the date… but the boys sure had a good time. No, Jack didn't convince Ianto to sing, but he did get him to dance… in more ways than one once they were back at the Hub.
And now, a couple of weeks later, they're right back in the middle of the mess the Rift creates.
Thank you to those reading the story. And thank you to those who have followed, favourited, and reviewed. NM
