Once again, neither the Torchwood nor the Velgarth characters belong to me. I just borrowed them for the purpose of entertaining myself and, hopefully, a few readers. Enjoy.
Chapter 2
Ianto found himself lying on his back with his eyes tightly closed against the light that accompanied his teleportation. The surface beneath him was hard, and a slight movement of a hand told him that he was on the grass-covered ground. Opening his eyes, he glimpsed patches of blue sky through an impossibly thick canopy of verdant growth. Ianto sat up and absently rubbed at his stinging cheek. "Of course," he muttered. "I should have known. Death is easily curable, but a scrape—now that will take a while to heal."
Looking around, Ianto noticed only tall grass, thick shrubs, and enormous trunks of trees the likes of which he had never seen before. It was not that they could not have existed on Earth. There was nothing biologically impossible about them, and they could have very well evolved on his native planet. It was just that they had not. Everything, from the shape of the leaves to the shade of the bark, was only a tiny bit different, confirming for him that he indeed ended up on a different world.
That being said, this different world did not seem like a particularly bad place to be. The sun was high above the horizon, and only a few more hours would tell if it intended to move in the westward or eastward direction. Some birds, apparently undisturbed by whatever power had teleported Ianto into the midst of their forest home, chattered merrily somewhere high in the canopy. A gentle breeze softly rustled the leaves. The weather was warm, but not oppressively so. In short, this place would have been pretty darn wonderful, if Ianto had any clue where he was and what he ought to be doing there.
"Good luck trying to help the helpless and right all wrongs when there don't seem to be any bloody people around," he said aloud just to hear the sound of his voice. "Right then. Can't sit here all day."
Ianto got up, brushing some dirt off his trousers, and made his way to one of the trees. The leaves turned out to be vaguely oak-like in shape, but the reddish veins all ran parallel to the main axis of the leaf like in a monocotyledon. He stepped on an acorn and stopped for a second to marvel at its weird shaggy cap before turning his attention back to the parental tree. Upon closer examination, Ianto noticed the slight yellowish hue to some of the leaves. Since most of the vegetation around him was brilliant green, he doubted that yellow was a natural, healthy color and wondered if perhaps this was the first sign of the upcoming autumn. The flora was certainly more consistent with a temperate climate that saw regular changes of seasons. Just as well—Ianto did not fancy trying to beat his way through a tropical jungle. The shaded side of the tree trunk was covered in bluish green lichen, so that must have been the side facing north. Ianto rounded the tree and set off in the opposite direction. He did not actually think that he could out-walk winter, but if it really was going to get cold soon, heading south just felt right.
Navigating through all the tall grasses and the thick bushes was not at all trivial. Somewhere along the way, Ianto picked up a stick large and smooth enough to use as a cane. It saved him from having to stumble through random burrows insidiously hidden beneath the grass ostensibly for the sole purpose of tripping unsuspecting hikers and from having to use his bare hands to climb through thorny shrubs, which seemed to block his path in practically all directions. Ianto had never thought that he would be grateful to his father for anything in his life, but now he found himself distinctly happy for that wilderness survival course his tad had signed him up for as a child. It was an attempt to toughen up the boy his father saw as too sensitive and too bookish. Ianto understood that fact clearly even at the age of nine and resented the whole exercise as a result. This did not mean, however, that he was not good at it. In general, he was good at almost everything he tried, and wilderness training was no exception. Ianto might have hated it with pure hatred, but he consistently brought home good marks, which seemed to please his father well enough. After all, he had never earned perfect grades at school either. The first few times he had scored highly on the tests were enough to show him that such efforts were not appreciated either by his classmates or his family, all of whom considered his success to be a sign of arrogance. It was easier to purposefully answer a few questions wrong and stay quietly in the shadow, shrouded in the comforting cocoon of his obscurity.
Ianto snorted softly, wondering what Jack had thought when, after reading about his prospective employee's "average, but not exceptional" abilities, he had found himself hiring someone who could keep a cybernetic body alive for months, understand Toshiko's programs with minimal explanation on her part, effectively hack into and search through practically any database, and put the total chaos that was the Torchwood archives at the time of his arrival into a state of perfect order. Frankly, Jack must have figured out that the original profile was wrong and might even have dug deep enough to know that it did reflect Ianto's actual grades, though obviously not his abilities. Even so, it was not in Jack's nature to broach such a potentially sensitive subject without dire need. He was thinking to hire someone who had basic knowledge of alien tech and was resourceful enough to bribe a pteranodon with chocolate, and if that person could also help in a myriad of other tiny ways around the Hub and was not averse to letting Jack screw him into the mattress—well, that was just an added bonus.
This line of thought was inevitably depressing, but a few hours into the hike, Ianto needed something to keep his mind occupied and distract himself from his growing hunger. If there was anything that the wilderness course had taught him, it was that eating unknown plants could be very dangerous. Granted, so could dying from hunger… Back to Jack, though. That was a different kind of hunger, but a hunger nonetheless. What Ianto told the "angels" was true—it really did not matter if Jack loved him; Ianto would have wanted to be with him regardless. It certainly would have felt better, though, if he did. Ianto knew that it was ridiculous to expect anything out of Jack, the man who had not told him "I love you" even when he was dying in his arms, but there were times when Jack looked at him with such caring and gentleness, when in his own usual roundabout way, he almost seemed to bring himself to confess some deeper emotion... Those times were what kept Ianto from extinguishing his hopes completely, so really it was his own fault for falling into the trap of false expectations. After all, Jack had never actually promised him anything.
Ianto was so lost in his thoughts that it took him several seconds to register the sound he heard as a human voice, but when his brain suddenly made the connection, it promptly jolted him out of his dark musings.
The original phrase was repeated in a commanding tone brooking no refusals, and Ianto, now frozen in spot, traced the voice to a tall tree growing on the opposite side of a forest clearing. There was a slight movement, and with a bit of a start, Ianto realized that what he originally thought to be part of a shrub abutting the huge trunk of the tree was actually a humanoid person. The bloke stood on one knee and held a crossbow with a cocked arrow pointing directly at Ianto. He had short spiky hair of unidentifiable color topped with a parrot-like crest, and even across the few feet of the clearing, his brilliant blue, slightly slanted eyes practically shone with a challenge. He was dressed in old-fashioned clothing reminiscent of Native American garb and blending in so well with the background that had the young man not shifted, he would have remained completely hidden in plain sight. With another start, Ianto realized that the bloke was indeed very young, younger even than he himself had been when he'd first joined Torchwood 3.
The man repeated his command for the third time. He was speaking in a language Ianto had never heard before, and that was saying a lot because Ianto was confident in his ability to at least recognize most languages spoken on Earth and a few spoken in other parts of the universe. Ianto spread his arms, trying to look as non-threatening as possible, and replied, "I apologize, but I do not understand what you are saying."
The young man looked confused for a second, but then said something else, his tone still hard and demanding. Ianto had the feeling that it was the same command as before, but in a different language. He spread his arms again and shook his head to show his lack of understanding. The young man frowned and somewhat haltingly tried yet another language. His command over this tongue evidently was not as good as the others, but that did not make a slightest bit of difference to Ianto, who could not understand a single word in any of the three languages.
Actually, the situation did not even require words. It was perfectly obvious what was going on without saying much of anything. Ianto had clearly stumbled into what the young man considered his own territory, and the bloke wanted him gone, but was willing to let the intruder leave peacefully instead of shooting him straight away. The problem was that he was the first person Ianto encountered so far on this planet, and Ianto's complete lack of knowledge about local flora and fauna made his chances of survival very low if he did not find more knowledgeable people fast. Had they at least one language in common, Ianto might have asked the young man to direct him to the nearest human settlement and promptly gone his own way, but as it was, he could only hope to convince this blue-eyed faux Indian that he was harmless enough to keep around.
"I do not know where I am or where to go," Ianto said, making a sweeping gesture around the clearing and then shrugging dramatically. The young man narrowed his eyes in concentration, as if trying to decipher what Ianto had just said—and failing. By this point, it ought to be obvious even to a complete moron that we don't speak the same language, Ianto thought wryly. The only question is what he will do with me know.
There was a pause while the young man seemed to contemplate the current situation and Ianto prayed that the final solution would not involve arrows protruding from his once again dead body. It was during this minute of indecision that a weird glint somewhere behind the young man's back caught Ianto's attention. He strained his eyes to see, and with horror realized that a long shadow slithered silently in the other bloke's direction, with every step looking more like a hideous hound-like creature covered in black reptilian scales. There was no question in Ianto's mind that it was planning to supplement its diet with a bit of human flesh.
The young man chose this moment to say something despondently and start lowering his weapon, and in the same instance, the creature hunched on its hind paws, preparing for a leap. Ianto realized with absolute certainty that this was precisely the situation in which he vowed to help someone in need and, trying not to think about the suicidal stupidity of his actions, he launched himself at the young man, yelling, "Watch out!"
The young man looked startled for one critical second, allowing Ianto to draw nearer, but then raised his weapon and fired. A moment later, Ianto crashed into the bloke's body and almost instantaneously felt a jolt to the ground when the creature landed heavily next to them, missing its prey by a mere foot. And only then did the searing pain from the arrow lounged deeply into his left shoulder penetrate Ianto's consciousness.
The young man stared at the creature with wide eyes as the monster spun around, practically knotting and unknotting its serpentine body with a preternatural agility. The monster's canine head opened its mouth, and a forked tongue quickly probed the air before once again disappearing behind a row of sharp fangs. Before, the creature was focusing only on the young man, but now the sight of blood seemed to draw its gaze towards Ianto. It leapt forward with the speed that neither human could possibly counter. The young man threw up his arms, and a split moment later, the creature seemed to hit an invisible wall. The canine head emitted a strikingly snake-like hiss, and the monster tried lunging at its prey again, but once again was deterred by the invisible barrier. It took several more attempts before the creature gave up and, with another loud hiss, began pacing across the clearing, avidly eyeing its victims.
Taking a moment to catch his breath, the young man said something, and in the next moment, lowered his arms, grabbed Ianto's good shoulder, and shoved him behind. Ianto lost his balance, the fall jolting his injury, so for a moment all he could sense was the agonizing pain. When it somewhat subsided, he found himself it a hole in the ground under the roots of the towering tree. He barely spared a second to contemplate the convenience of it being right in this spot when the young man jumped into the hole next to him and quickly threw up his arms again just in time to counter another attack. The monster apparently figured out that the barrier could not be maintained while the native human was otherwise occupied. Now, it slithered away and resumed its pacing while Ianto clutched his left shoulder in a vain attempt to stop the bleeding.
The hole was barely big enough to fit two fully grown men, and they were wedged tightly against one another, so when a tremor ran through Ianto's body, it took him only a moment to understand that the young man was the one trembling. Ianto turned to look at his companion and realized that whatever force field the bloke used to protect them against the creature relied on his own personal energy, which was getting quickly depleted. The monster seemed to know that and was simply biding its time for the opportunity to strike once the barrier inevitably goes down.
With another tremor, the young man suddenly dropped his arms, picked up the crossbow, and let loose an arrow. The arrow not only did not penetrate, but seemed to actually bounce off the scaly hide of the creature. The monster hissed and rushed towards them as the young man let out another arrow with similar success.
Ianto desperately wished for some way to stop the creature and then, in a moment of pure inspiration, reached for his gun. He honestly could not remember what happened to the weapon after the 456 representative released the virus, but he was not about to question his luck when a moment later he fired the gun at the monster.
Ianto was never particularly confident in his own shooting skills, and the double vision he was experiencing because of the injury certainly did not help the matter. The bullet missed, but the explosive sound of gunfire shocked the creature enough to stop it in its tracks a mere yard and a half away from its victims. The young man also stared at Ianto with incredulity, but recovering first, grabbed the gun from Ianto's hand and fired it at the monster. He was a much better shot, and the bullet hit the creature, knocking it back a pace. The monster emitted an ear-splitting yelp, and that was when the third bullet found its way right into the open mouth. Dark liquid gushed out, spraying the grass all around them, and the creature dropped dead in a puddle of its own blood.
A moment later, with the ebbing rush of adrenaline, Ianto found himself slipping into darkness as well.