6.
The silence weighed heavily on the room. Ianto felt it acutely, that this was somehow all his fault, and now the others had been dragged into his personal life as well. He wanted to curl up in a ball and disappear.
"What's wrong with him, Owen?" asked Gwen, finally breaking the awkward moment. "Is he having a reaction to the medication?"
"Could be, but I don't think so," replied the doctor. "What's going on, Jack?"
Ianto's eyes flew open. "Don't."
Jack took a few steps closer, reached out to Ianto, and apparently thought better of it. "I'm sorry, but something else is happening here. Something's wrong. This isn't you." He took a deep breath and met Owen's eyes. "Ianto has been having nightmares. About being killed."
Owen frowned. "All right, but that wasn't a nightmare. That was more like a hallucination. He was awake, sitting right here with his eyes open." He glanced down at Ianto. "Start talking. How long have you been having these dreams?"
"Three days," Ianto replied, letting his eyes close so he didn't have to see the looks on everyone's face. "But like you said, I was asleep, never awake."
"What did you dream exactly?" said Owen. Ianto blew out a breath.
"Ianto," Jack started, and he waved him off.
"It's fine, Jack. You're right, they should know the details if it's going to happen in the middle of the day." He paused and took stock of how much he wanted to say. "I'm feeling better, can I sit up to talk about this?" Owen nodded and Tosh helped him to sit up. Ianto looked down at his hands as he spoke. He idly noticed that someone had taken off the wellies and left him in his socks, which were wet and uncomfortable.
"The dreams start out normal, it's like I'm awake it's so real, and then it all goes wrong. Then I die. The first time I was stabbed, then strangled, then shot. Now poisoned." He let out a bitter snort. "Always different, and it doesn't seem to matter where I am, here or at home."
"And it started three days ago?" asked Owen. "But you didn't think to say anything?"
"Owen, it's not unusual to have nightmares in this job," Ianto pointed out wearily. "I've had them before, although it's been a while. I figured they'd work themselves out."
"Only now you're hallucinating, so I'd say there's more going on here. I want to run some tests."
"Oh joy," said Ianto. Owen pointed a finger at him.
"You were catatonic. What if it happened while you were driving? Out in the field chasing down a Weevil?"
Ianto was silent. In front of him, Jack was chewing his thumb, but didn't say anything. Owen began gathering whatever he needed for his tests. It was Tosh who spoke up next.
"Ianto, did it start before or after the first Riftquake?" she asked. Ianto looked at her in surprise.
"After. That night, actually. That was the first one." He glanced at Jack and Owen, then back to Tosh. "But why would a Riftquake give me nightmares?"
"Maybe it's not the quake exactly, but something else related to it that affected you, somehow..." Tosh trailed off, obviously as confused as Ianto. Jack, however, looked hopeful.
"Tosh, help Owen with his tests. Then run some more of your own to see if something from the Rift is causing this." He turned to Gwen. "I want you monitoring everything—inside and outside. You're on call for any more retrievals and will field any calls from local authorities."
"What are you going to do?" asked Gwen. Ianto tried not to listen, because of course he didn't need Jack to stay with him. He didn't want someone holding his hand while Owen took blood and Tosh ran her scanner over him. Yet a part of him was hoping Jack would stay anyway.
"I'm going to go through the CCTV footage," he said. "I like watching Ianto, so I'm going to see if anything got to him over the last few days. If it's Rift-related, it would have happened here at the Hub, and if it's there, I'll find it."
To Ianto's surprise Jack stepped up to him and kissed him on the forehead. "And I will fix whatever is going on," he said softly, left hand caressing Ianto's cheek before he kissed Ianto on the lips, right in front of everyone. He turned to leave before Ianto could react. The other were silent.
"Wow," said Tosh, staring off after Jack. "That was intense."
Owen snorted. "All right, you're all shot up with adrenaline and sedatives, but I can still look for other weird shit in your blood. Give me your arm. Tosh, what's your plan?"
Ianto half listened as Owen took his blood. He suspected the doctor would find nothing of consequence; there was a better chance of Tosh finding something with whatever tests she ran, though what that might be and how it might be giving him nightmares, Ianto couldn't even begin to guess. He wanted to believe that there was something doing this to him other than his own doubts and fears about Jack; it seemed an extreme reaction, after all, to dream and now hallucinate that his lover was killing him over and over. Then again, after Lisa had died, he'd dreamed about being converted more than once. That was quite literal, though; his dreams about Jack were obviously metaphorical. It was almost as if he were trapped in a Shakespearean tragedy.
"Could I be in Hell, like Jack?" he asked, earning a surprised look from Tosh and an eye roll from Owen. "No, listen. These dreams…it's like being in my own personal hell. I feel as if it's real and everything is normal, and then Jack…and then I die. Only I wake up alive, and then it happens again. Could it be something similar, at least?"
Tosh looked thoughtful. "I doubt it. You didn't leave when it happened a little while ago. You were here the entire time. Jack actually left, he was in another dimension."
"But he experienced something similar, his thoughts and fears coming true," Ianto pointed out.
"He tell you what he saw there?" Owen asked. "Because I've tried to make sure he's all right, but he won't talk to me."
"No, he didn't say much," Ianto replied, which was both true and not true. Jack had admitted that he'd seen and done awful things in Hell over the time he'd been trapped there, things he'd realized were representing other issues he needed to work on, but he hadn't said what they were. Ianto knew it was something Jack didn't want to share because it was too private, just like he was not going to tell the others that it was Jack who had been killing him in his dreams. Owen would have a field day.
"I can run tests for some of the same things we saw with the matchbox," Tosh said, but she sounded skeptical. "I don't know if it will help, but if it puts your mind at ease, I'm happy to try."
"Whatever you think is best, Tosh," Ianto replied. "So maybe it's – what? Stress, exhaustion, overwork? Can you prescribe a holiday?" he joked. It fell flat.
"I'd love to, mate," Owen said. "Once I know what's going on. Let's do a brain scan, then Tosh can have you. And then I'd suggest sleeping it off."
Ianto raised an eyebrow. "You gave me two shots of epinephrine, Owen. How am I supposed to sleep?"
"I gave you a sedative too," Owen pointed out. "Your hand is still red and swollen so you can't do much with it, and I bet as soon as you get up you'll want to sit down again right away."
Ianto was silent as Owen finished his tests. Then Tosh ran her scanner over him, trying to find something, anything, that might be affecting him. By which point Ianto noticed he was definitely growing tired and didn't really want to get up after all.
"Come on, at least crash on the sofa," Owen said, helping him up. "You can kip off for a few, then we can regroup and see what, if anything, is going on with you."
Ianto nodded and let Owen help him upstairs, still shoeless. As least his socks and trousers were drier, although he still felt distinctly dirty and was fairly sure he smelled like the bog. Glancing at Jack's office, he saw him hunched over in front of the computer screens, watching the Hub CCTV footage intently. Ianto hoped he found something; he didn't want to think it was all in his head.
As soon as he sat down, every last bit of energy left him, and he literally fell to his side, tucking his hands under his head. He heard Tosh fussing over him with a blanket but was too exhausted to do anything more than mumble a thank you. As he drifted off to sleep, he wondered what new nightmares would plague him, and if he would even wake up this time to battle them.
Rough hands shook him awake, a grating voice calling his name. Ianto rolled over and ignored it.
"Come on, teaboy. I want to take a look, make sure everything checks out after all those drugs I pumped into you."
Ianto groaned. Owen was waking him up. For the first time in days, Ianto had been enjoying a peaceful dream, and now the gruff doctor was ruining it. Then again, most of his other dreams had started out fine, so maybe he was actually saving Ianto from dying another dream death.
"What time is it?" Ianto asked, rolling back to face the Hub. Tosh was standing with Owen, smiling down at him.
"A little after lunch," she said. "We saved you some pizza, if you're up for it."
Ianto sat up slowly and looked around. "Where are the others?" he asked, wondering in particular about Jack. At least he knew this was real, since by this time in his dreams Jack would have been trying to kill him.
"Lots of Weevils were stirred up by that last Riftquake," Owen said. "We've been busy. You got out of a rather shitty morning."
"And that makes the headache worth it?" Ianto asked, rubbing at his temples. It was like a hangover only worse, complete with nausea. "Is this normal?"
"Could be for you," Owen said. He crouched down and started checking Ianto's vitals—pulse, respiration, eyes. "Or aliens. You went through a lot this morning, so I can't say I'm surprised. If you eat something, I'll give you some painkillers for dessert."
"Deal," said Ianto. "Do I have to get up though?"
Tosh laughed. "I'll bring you some leftover pizza. Do you want me to reheat it?"
"No," said Ianto. "Cold pizza actually sounds perfect."
"No coffee," warned Owen. "We've stressed your system enough with the epinephrine I gave you, so no caffeine. Water and juice."
"All right," Ianto grumbled. "Did you find anything in the tests while I was out of it?"
Owen shrugged. "Not really. You're definitely allergic to shellfish, so you'll want an epi-pen from now on. Your hormone levels were consistent with bad sleep and stress, but other than that, everything checked out. Tosh?"
Tosh sat down next to him with several slices of pizza. "I'm sorry, Ianto, but I can't see any connections between your bad dreams and the Riftquakes, other than that they started right after the first one. Maybe it's a coincidence."
He patted her on the leg and picked up a slice of pizza, surprised at how hungry he was. "It's fine. I wasn't expecting anything. It didn't seem likely, after all." He tried to hide his disappointment with dark humor. "Maybe I'm finally losing it."
"Don't say that," she admonished him. "There must be a reason you're having these dreams, and we'll find it."
Owen had thrown himself into a chair and snorted. "It's the Torchwood death wish."
"Owen!" Tosh exclaimed, and Ianto set down his pizza with a frown.
"I don't want to die working for Torchwood, Owen," Ianto said. "But I am pragmatic enough to know that I will."
"Which is exactly why you're dreaming about it," the doctor said, sounding satisfied.
"Why now?" asked Ianto. "Why so suddenly, so violently? And in the medical bay, what happened there, when I was awake?"
"There's something else going on, Owen," said Tosh, sounding more defensive than Ianto. "You know it."
Owen sighed. "Yeah, yeah, I know. But hell if I can find anything wrong. You haven't found anything with your scans and Jack hasn't found anything on the CCTV yet."
They were silent for a moment as Ianto finished another slice of pizza. After drinking half a water bottle, he continued with his questions. "Did you look at anything to do with the matchbox, Tosh?" he asked. She nodded.
"Jack checked it again, it's safe in the secure archives. But there's been no evidence of any kind of similar energies whatsoever. I'm sorry."
"Don't be," he said, patting her leg. "It's just as important to know what something is not, as to know what it is."
"That's deep," Owen said.
"I try," said Ianto. He leaned back against the sofa, full. "I'm not in Hell and that's a good thing, at least." He bit back a yawn. Why was he tired when he'd slept the morning away?
Owen must have been reading his mind. "It's going to take a while to feel normal," he said. "You might as well take it easy until we need you for something."
Ianto shook his head. "No, I don't want to lay down any more. I want to do something to help. Anything. Otherwise I'll keep thinking about it."
"I'd suggest a shower, then," Owen said, standing up. "You smell like a swamp and it'll wake you up too."
Ianto's heart skipped a beat as he remembered his first nightmare, about being stabbed in Jack's shower. But he could use the communal shower again, like he had after the dream, and Jack was out anyway. It was fine. It was only a dream. He did feel sort of grimy and wouldn't mind a wake-up call. Then maybe he'd do some research in the archives, see what he could find about dreams and hallucinations.
"All right," he said reluctantly. He felt sluggish as he stood, heavier than normal, and moved slowly in his socks toward the showers. "Where are my shoes?" he asked.
"Oh!" said Tosh. "They're down in the medical bay, let me get them." She dashed downstairs and reappeared with his loafers. He didn't bother putting them on, since he'd only get them dirty. With a smile of thanks, he went downstairs to get cleaned up, still puzzling over his dreams, and in particular, what had happened in the medical bay.
He was surprisingly calm as he entered the showers; even though a part of his mind wanted to panic, it didn't. Maybe it was the sedative Owen had given him earlier to stave off the terror of his waking dream in the medical bay. He was also in the communal showers, not Jack's shower, and he'd come out of it fine when he'd cleaned up there the morning after his first nightmare.
In truth, he felt much better about the entire situation now that the team knew, which was ironic for someone like him, who protected his privacy almost aggressively. Normally he would have been mortified that they'd witnessed his hallucination in the medical bay, but instead he felt like their reaction and support proved something else was going on. And they were all trying to figure it out. They had his back, and he knew they would protect him and help him. It was a strange but good feeling.
Stripping off his suit, he grimaced as he noticed the trousers in particular. He'd have to have it dry cleaned, and soon, if he didn't want the mud to set in. He stepped into the shower and enjoyed the feel of the hot water against his back and shoulders first, relaxing muscles tense from the allergic reaction, the shot Owen had given him, and probably worst of all, falling asleep on the sofa. Soap washed away the last of the dirt and bog smell, and he felt his energy returning as he rinsed his hair.
There was a rumbling beneath him, and having felt it earlier that morning, he knew it must be another Riftquake. With a sigh, he turned off the water, also knowing he'd be needed if it was a big one and something else had made its way through. He opened the door, immediately doubling over as the sharp point of a long silver knife plunged into his side.
"Time to die for real this time," hissed a voice in his ear. Ianto glanced into violet eyes and growled his instinctive response.
"Fuck you," he snarled, and grabbed the hand holding the bloody knife before it could strike again. Desperation leant him strength and he forced it away, toward the body holding it, and plunged it deep into tight thigh muscles, leaving it there as he collapsed on the floor.
There was a sound outside the showers. Ianto tried to call out for help, hoping someone heard him. He pulled himself toward his towel and pressed it against his bleeding stomach. Shutting his eyes against the pain, he tried to think straight, so he could do something, save himself. This was real, he wasn't going to wake up in bed shouting this time. If he didn't save himself, no one else would.
But the pain was bad, and there was a lot of blood on the floor, and the adrenaline rush that had allowed him to fight back only moments earlier had now left him drained. He couldn't move, couldn't call out, couldn't even open his eyes. Consciousness was drifting away; he was dying, his blood staining the floor around him. It was worse than his nightmare.
Strong arms lifted him, and he forced himself to open his eyes at least one more time to see if he was facing his attacker or his savior.
"Jack," he whispered, before the darkness claimed him.
Author's Note:
Why yes, I really like messing with my readers. I feel bad for Ianto, though. Thank you for reading! Comments are gold for fanfic writers, as we have no other way of knowing if anyone is reading our work. And I'm always happy to answer questions, as long as they don't spoil anything. Next update this weekend. :)
