61
Ianto sat with Jack's rings in his hand, grateful beyond words to the nurse who had slipped them to him as Jack was led into theatre.
He had been allowed to ride with him in the ambulance as they cut away the SWAT gear, exposing the bullet wounds.
Three.
Ianto keep counting them over and over again like they might change.
One in the shoulder, one in the gut, one in the hip.
One.
Two.
Three.
The blood had been dripping from the gurney as they yelled and worked, apparently the SWAT vest had been acting like a tourniquet on the gut wound and now they had removed it he was bleeding profusely.
Ianto hadn't thought twice when Jack started to choke and convulse. He had calmly incubated him and called out the numbers as he slid in a second IV, no realizing what he had done until an ambulance officer slapped him on the shoulder and told him that was the smoothest tubing he had ever seen.
Ianto blinked as he went to tell him he had only ever done cadavers a lifetime ago but he couldn't speak as he looked down and saw terrified eyes staring back. Ianto had comforted him and talked calmly as Jack had stopped panicking and then struggled to stay conscious as his eyes sought Ianto's.
"I love you" Ianto had repeated for the umpteenth time, "My Cariad, I am so proud of you. Keep fighting my lovely man."
Now he sat with hunks of gold, love, heart, soul, blood in the palm of his hand.
He knew it was bad, the dark blood meant a major organ, probably the liver and he could only pray silently to the gods for mercy.
As if his family hadn't had enough, but maybe a little more?
Please?
Connor arrived and sat next to him, telling him that Gene and Idris were with the children and Gene had told them.
Ianto didn't want to hear, the wails of his children already imagined in his head so he nodded nimbly and opened his palm to look at the rings.
"The other officer badly hurt didn't make it" Connor whispered, "The family are …"
Ianto was up and moving. Seeking them and he followed the sound of wiling to a small side room where a family grieved, the officers milling around showing the family to be Heddlu.
"Hello, I'm Ianto Harkness-Jones" he said politely, "Can I wait with you? Jack is still in surgery and ... I … it's so sterile and cold. I hate the cold, it's all too cold."
A large black woman rose from the chair she has been collapsed in and she rushed forward to embrace the poor man, squashing Ianto to her ample bosom as she crooned.
"I'm so sorry" Ianto said, then started to cry.
Jagged howls as the woman held him and wept as well.
They sat and she gathered him agsinst her.
"Your … son?" Ianto asked as he plucked at the photograph of a handsome young man in SWAT gear. He looked like Walter, with long curls and a grin that would charm a girl's knickers off at ten paces.
"He loved it so much, was so proud. Seeing him get ready for work each morning … we were all so proud" she said sadly, "He's been dating a nice girl. Captain Harkness-Jones had told him to put a ring on it, he was thinking about it."
"Denny" Ianto sighed, remembering Jack talking about the young SWAT member and his budding romance, "Denny Boy."
"You knew him honey?" the mother asked with new pain.
"Jack said he reminded him of me. So polite, so good hearted and pure." Ianto nodded, "Told me that he had a soft spot for him. He is so much like our son, Walter. Same hair and same smile."
Ianto felt the slam of reality.
He was dead.
This boy, this older style Walter with his afro, grin and infectious zest for life.
This woman's child was dead.
Ianto turned and embraced her, as it was his turn to comfort.
She grieved as he clung to hope.
