3

Moving around in the dark came natural to Ianto.

It had been a significant part of his training, and he had spent hours in the dark. As a young child, he had hated those times, and now that he could use the smallest amount of light as he quickly grabbed weapons and other needed materials, he moved the low light around the room.

For the slightest second, he worried that someone outside of the house would see the light, but the benefits of the efficiency it allowed were enough to outweigh the possibility that someone was watching.

Besides, he was really itching for a fight, and he hoped the hunter would accommodate. With quick movements, Ianto packed his bag, grabbing only the essentials—a change of clothes, a few toiletries, and the broach his mother gifted him on his tenth birthday. He sat heavily on the bed and paused as he held it in his hand under the low light for a few extra seconds, thinking back to the time before his life careened away from the idyllic early childhood to which he'd grown accustomed.

He could never bear to wear the broach.

There were too many memories associated with it. But he could never let it go either. His mother told him never to lose it, so even as he ran for his life, it was an essential that he couldn't leave without.

A noise from the other side of the small apartment caught his attention. It was a slight snick, like a window releasing pressure as it slid open, and it shook him out of his melancholy in an instant.

He shut off the light and stood swiftly. Forgetting everything else, Ianto slipped the broach into the hidden pocket deep inside his backpack and threw the bag over his shoulder. He palmed the leather handle of his curved dagger and slid silently across the bedroom.

His back against the door, Ianto peeked around the doorframe and waited for movement. As a tall shadow crossed the kitchen, he jerked his head back in recognition. It was him. The hunter from the antique shop was moving around his apartment, clearly here for him.

He had wanted a fight, and he had brought it right to him, but he needed answers first. For now, the smartest move was not to make one. Not yet. With sure steps, Ianto backed up toward the sliding glass door leading to the balcony.

He gave up the pretense of staying quiet, unlocking and opening the door with one swift motion. As he pulled a nylon rope from his utility belt, he ran toward the railing, hooking the belt as he dove over, gripping the rope and bracing his feet, knees bent, legs loose to take the impact as he swung under the balcony and into the outer siding of the building.

He bounced outward and with a controlled slide, let gravity take over as he bounced his way down three stories. Once his feet hit the ground, he gave a quick flick of his wrist and looked upward to catch the dull metal hook that had secured the rope. He caught it easily and saluted the dark figure watching him from the balcony he'd just vacated.

He couldn't help the small grin that planted itself on his face as he turned and ran for the parking lot on the other side of the building. It felt rather amazing to outsmart someone, especially a hunter. Yet, as he turned the corner and ran across the parking lot, his front door opened, and the hunter charged out.

Damn!

He could move quickly.

Ianto sprinted forward, heading for the natural area stretching behind the apartment complex. The terrain was overgrown and wild, and he could lose him there. As he passed Toshiko's building, his chest constricted, and now that he'd lived among the emotional humans, he knew that he was feeling sadness and regret.

Toshiko had been an amazing person, and Ianto would miss her presence in his life. As Toshiko had explained it, they were best friends. Ianto had experienced something like a friendship at the assassin's academy, but he had never known that one could have such a strong tie to another person.

He hadn't liked much about the human world, but the bonds between the humans was a difference that he had liked. As he lowered his chin, though, and ran on, Ianto accepted that in order to protect his best friend, he had to leave him behind.

The line of trees came into view as he rounded the building. A quick look over his shoulder showed that the hunter was still a good distance behind him. Yet, he seemed to be holding back, observing, and that made him nervous. What did he know that Ianto didn't?

He wasted no more thought on him though as he swiveled back around and darted through the trees. It was time to disappear once more. A familiar path stretched out before him. he had jogged through these woods daily, and he knew that once he reached the summit of the small hill, with a run along the ridge to the right, he would come out above the Lovestruck River.

Waiting for him on the other side of the hill, tied upon a small, wooden dock, he had a boat that he would use to make a quick and quiet getaway.

Sadly, he would leave this place far behind. It wasn't until he was just a few yards from the top of the hill that he noticed the tall, shadowy figure immense and standing directly above him.

Stopping suddenly, he stared at the hunter, confused about how he'd beaten him to the top.

Completely stupefied, he shifted his gaze between the bottom and top of the hill. "How...How did you do that?"

"Ianto Pendragon of the kingdom of Torchwood, I am here to take you to meet the justice you deserve."

"Well, see, here's the thing. That doesn't play into my current, or future, plans. So, I'm going to take a hard pass on that."

"No, Ianto. Hard, soft, or otherwise, there is no way to pass on this. You must return to the Kingdom of Torchwood with me to stand trial."

He stepped toward Ianto as he reached for his dagger. "Again, I don't see a need for that. I am more than happy to abdicate my position as heir to the throne, and my father can go on ruling in his heavy-handed way without worrying about my opinion."

The silence between them stretched into an uncomfortable few seconds, only broken by the sounds of the woods around them. The hunter made a scoffing sound as he said, "Your ability to lie is nothing short of talented. I almost believed you."

"Lie? Why wouldn't you believe me? I have no reason to lie about something like this."

"What of your father? Don't you care about him?"

"Care about him? What did that ever get me, hunter? I'll tell you what. It got me sent away to a school I hated, and it forced me to leave Torchwood forever. Even if I did care about him, I don't want anything more to do with him until I find what I am searching for. Then, and only then, I will face him once more."

The hunter stepped in his direction again, a slice of moonlight illuminated his face. It was like seeing an angel in person—a fallen angel, but an angel, nonetheless. Yet, Ianto was dumbfounded at the look on his face. He looked genuinely perplexed by his words, like he was speaking a language he didn't understand. Perhaps he'd picked up more from the humans in the past five years than he'd realized.

He was finished talking. With the slightest of hand gestures, Ianto flicked his wrist and set off a few colourful explosions behind the hunter, to his right. The moment he turned toward the ear-splitting sounds, Ianto took off in the direction of the river.

He knew he would be right on his trail, but he also had something up his sleeve that he hoped he didn't know about. With a few words mumbled under his breath, he cast a spell of camouflage. In an instant, he blended into the night as if he'd never even been there. It only worked in the woods, but he was pleased he had a reason to use it.

He smiled when he heard his expletive, but he didn't dare slow down to see the look on his face, though he could imagine it would show his brow furrowed in frustration.

However, he continued to pursue her, even as he zig-zagged back and forth, trying without success to lose him. When he realized the problem, he muttered another incantation and cancelled the noise his feet made as he ran.

Finally, with a final curse word, he slowed to a stop, and he picked up his pace. As he began to pull away from him, he couldn't help but stop when he said, "You can run from me, Ianto. But, you can't run from the truth. Deny what you did as much as you want. I know the truth."

Like his feet had suddenly grown heavy, he couldn't move farther, feeling like his words were about to push him over a cliff. Ianto waited, and just as he turned to begin his progress once more he shouted, "Your father is dead. And, you are the one who murdered him, Ianto."

Ianto's heart stopped as his eyesight blurred and his hearing slipped away. His knees buckled as his strength abandoned him, and he dropped to the ground. The air around him grew heavy as a forceful wind began to fill the forest, spinning debris up from the ground, even as the limbs of the trees above him swayed recklessly.

A loud, high-pitched scream went on and on around him, as if the very earth were crying out like a child left abandoned. In an instant the world disappeared as he felt the wind lift him high into the night, carrying him away.

It was only when the screaming followed that he realized it had been his own voice all along. The dark sky was broken only by the small twinkle of stars above and the half-moon making its way across the expanse.

He stared until his eyes burned with the unshed tears.

He had failed. His father was dead, and he had failed. The tears washed over him in a fountain of misery. As the swirling twister carried him over the tops of the trees, he knew the hunter followed below.

He would lose him tonight, but now that he thought he had murdered the King, he would never give up until he had taken Ianto back to Torchwood to face the consequences he'd set in motion so long ago. Like taxes, pandemics, and bad breath in the morning, it had been inevitable.

It was his fate.