Much thanks and love to my Beta Reader Jaz =)
And of course, love to the readers for such a wait =P
Enjoy!
Jack was faintly aware of an almighty pain, as if it were happening to someone else, and his stomach reeled when he caught the sickly scent of congealing blood close by. His head literally banged, it pounded as if some tiny pixie were seated inside of it, thumping angrily. He'd been through this before, this torturous pain of a bullet through the brain, yet never had he imagined such desperate anxiety for his friends. The figure at his side, and the fingers clutching his, had succumbed to death long ago and the sounds of struggle had died down.
Someone was kneeling at his side, had plucked his hand from the cold, dead fingers of his fallen comrade. He could not begin to imagine who it was, did not want to consider the inevitable possibility that either Gwen, Ianto or Andy lay lifeless at his side. Someone's coarse fingers stroked his temples, brushed back flyaway hair from his eyes, and rolled him over so that he lay on his back. Warm tears dropped onto his face, traced marks over his cheeks, down his neck; salty, comforting tears collected in the corners of his mouth.
Desperately fighting to shrug off the cloak of death, Jack raised weak hands to cup his comforter's face, stem the tears with his thumbs, feel for some distinguishable feature. Clutching his hands, a soft voice whispered something indistinct yet kind in his ear.
Feeling the stab of exhilaration that the voice had been Welsh, and endearingly familiar, Jack floundered in the darkness, forcing his eyes open despite the foggy resistance of his mind. Blearily, he saw the black sky above, punctuated by sparse patterns of white stars and the occasional glitter of aircraft.
Hardly daring to move, hardly wanting to feel the unbearable wrench of death in his heart, Jack slowly turned his aching head to the side, feeling once more for those cold fingers. Retching, howling in misery, Jack was instantly plunged into the icy world of the living as he stared helplessly down at Ianto's still, blood-streaked body. His fingers searched for a pulse, and instead were met by the sticky sweat of death. Disbelieving, and indignant after everything that had happened that night, Jack pounded on Ianto's chest as if the impact could order him into life. It was impossible - unthinkable! - mad - Ianto could not be dead! Such a thing was… wrong and cruel, unjust after such a valiant fight to be reunited with him.
Through his mantra of thought, he heard dim and distant words meant to comfort him, he felt a small hand resting on his shoulder as if in some weak offering of solace. Somewhere, police sirens were wailing, refusing to let him sink and wallow in the coldness of death. He had felt death a thousand times, a thousand different ways, yet never as painful as this, never as painful as cradling another of his dead friends.
"Jack."
Turning away from the sounds of sirens, Jack gripped Ianto tighter, pleading to be able to pass his eternal life into the empty shell of his beloved Welshman. Perhaps, if he sat like this for long enough, Ianto would breathe again.
"Jack, please."
Nothing else mattered, Jack had to bring Ianto back. Remembering what he had done with Gwen before, he pressed his lips over Ianto's, and his heart wrenched as he touched the man's icy skin. As before, he breathed outwards, yet he felt no thinning of his soul, no movement of his heart. Disgusted, he let out a groan of despair: why… why had he been able to save Gwen and not Ianto? The pain of losing Gwen was nothing compared to this, was nothing compared to the way in which his heart and veins ached for Ianto.
"Jack, please, the police want…"
"Get them away. Get rid of them. I don't want-"
"Jack, they need to… they have to come and-"
"Get them away!" He gathered Ianto's broken body in his arms as he clambered to his feet, dizzy and disorientated from the bullet, just as Gwen reached out to support Ianto's lolling head.
"Where did those bastards go?" Jack growled.
Gwen hesitantly replied, "they flipped when Andy called the police. They ran, Jack. I would've gone after them but… Ianto…" She gestured sadly down at the lifeless body in Jack's arms, and potent tears of grief cascaded down her pale cheeks. "God Jack, I'm so sorry, I couldn't - I tried - but… That bitch grabbed hold of me while the other two set on Ianto." It was only now, as he peered past the foggy curtain of shock, that he saw her as he had before all of this. She was brave, strong and caring. Her hands were entirely covered with congealing, dark blood, her hair was stringy from the water, her cheeks were gaunt and her eyes shadowed with horror.
"We'll deal with this together," Jack nodded, turning his head to face the approaching police and SOC officers, "just like before. Me and you. Torchwood. This is what we do." His sigh was heavy and symbolised the extent of his grief as he laid Ianto's cold body steadily on the ground and wrapped his arms around Gwen. The officers descended like flies upon the crime scene. Questions buzzed around them irritatingly, officers spoke on tinny mobile phones and sipped steaming cups of tea and coffee in the chilly night air. Jack and Gwen looked on in dim wonder as their friend was lifted onto a stretcher and carried respectfully towards a waiting ambulance.
"Wait," Jack turned to Gwen, "I want to go with him."
She nodded, she touched his hand gently, she understood. Squeezing his hand again, she slowly picked her way, legs trembling, towards the officials clustered near the ambulance.
The paramedic cast Jack a disapproving glare, "Are you family?"
"Yes," Gwen said without hesitation, "we're the closest thing he has to a family. We love him. We spend every day, and sometimes every night, together. I trust him with my life, I have done so many times."
"All right," the paramedic stepped aside to allow them access to the ambulance, resting a hand on Gwen's arm, "who's his next of kin?"
"Erm," she glanced at Jack, who shrugged, "I'm not sure. Perhaps his parents?"
The paramedic raised an eyebrow, "we have to notify the next of kin. Do you have a contact number? We need to go through the necessary proceedings…"
Gwen gestured helplessly, Jack raised his trembling hands to cover his ears. No, no, no… This was not happening, Ianto wasn't lying dead in a growling ambulance…
"I'm his…" Jack began, before realising that he had no idea who Ianto's next of kin might be. He sighed, "his sister's number is in his phone. I'll bring it to the hospital later, just let us in the ambulance."
The paramedic sighed, stood back and granted them access to the ambulance.
This is it, Jack thought, this is really it. This is how life ends.
More coming soon(ish) =D
Probably when I come back from my trip to Cardiff (which, if you know me, is a HUGE deal!) next week.
=)
Reviews, as always, are love 3
xx