Chapter Thirty
OMG – I still can't believe that I've managed to write this much... I would normally have got bored a good 5,000 words into the story! And – so far – this is 26,600+ words (not including this chapter). That I've managed to keep going is all down to you wonderful guys who leave me such lovely reviews. I owe you all!
I'm not too sure about how this chapter works out. I ended up copying and pasting loads of bits around, to try and make more sense, so please let me know if bits don't quite fit.
Disclaimer: Torchwood is a fantastic playground created by Russell T. Davies. I just like playing in it. If I promise not to vandalise it, please can I stay for longer?
Ianto raised his eyes to the broken, clouded heavens—
I'm sorry, Jack.
—and stepped off.
Jack's eyes flew open as he yelled for air, lurching upright and rolling off the bed. "Ianto," he breathed, without realising he'd said a word.
He staggered through to the main cabin. It was devoid of anybody, the room eerily still save for the hum of the TARDIS.
Jack pushed open the police-box door to check inside. The golden interior welcomed him with a warm pulse, but there was still no sign of anybody.
His comm. unit was dead, too. And nobody was answering their mobiles.
With a sigh, Jack sat down by the table, idly tapping the fingers of one hand on the wood. He propped his chin on the other and stared morosely out of the porthole, at the stormy sky above.
A couple of minutes later, Jack got bored of waiting and tried their mobiles again, impatiently growling under his breath as the network took a little too long to connect.
-T-
Martha was bent over, hands on knees and gasping as she watched the helicopter lift the trio from the water. Beside her, Owen was conversing with the medic on board.
Her mobile buzzed in her pocket. She fished it out, not bothering to check the caller ID.
"Martha?"
"Jack!"
Gwen looked around at her exclamation. "Is— is that Jack?" she asked incredulously.
Martha nodded at her, putting her finger to her lips in a shushing gesture. "Are you OK?" she demanded down the line.
"Yeah, I'm fine – where are you lot?"
"Uh..." Martha threw a frantic look at Gwen, who shrugged, pulling a face. "There's been an accident."
"What sort of accident?"
"I... I'm sorry, Jack. Ianto— well, he fell off a cliff." Martha tensed, waiting for the explosion.
"Sorry?" Jack's voice was low and deadly. "My hearing must be faulty – I could have sworn you just said that Ianto fell off a cliff."
Martha swallowed. "No, you heard me right. The 'copter's taking him to hospital at the moment."
There was a deafening silence down the other end of the line. Then: "What was he doing by a cliff, anyway?"
"I... I gotta go, Jack – Owen and Gwen will pick you up." Martha quickly flipped her phone shut and stuffed it in her jeans pocket. She grimaced at Gwen. "Jack's pretty pissed off."
"I'm not surprised," Gwen commented, pushing her heavy fringe back from her face. "Owen and I'll take Jack to the hospital, did you say?"
Martha grinned wickedly. "Have fun."
-T-
The doors of the hospital ward burst open.
"Where is he? Where's Ianto?" Jack demanded, striding over to the front desk, his coat flapping around his heels.
The red-haired receptionist looked up calmly. "Can I help you, sir?"
"I need to see him."
The receptionist, whose name-badge said 'Tracy', raised an elegant eyebrow. "Who, sir?"
"Ianto Jones." Jack fidgeted impatiently as Tracy tapped carefully at her computer. "Well?"
"Please bear with me for a moment..." Tap, tap. "Can I take your name, please?"
"Captain Jack Harkness." Jack wrapped his arms around his torso, barely restraining himself from hopping from foot to foot.
"I'm sorry, Captain Harkness, but only close family are allowed in to visit Mr Jones at the moment. Maybe you should come back tomorrow..?"
Jack gritted his teeth. "I'm his boyfriend," he blurted out.
Tracy's eyes widened and she disdainfully looked him up and down. "I'm sorry, Mr Harkness, but that doesn't qualify as 'close family'."
Jack stared at her in shock. "What?"
"You'll have to come back another time. Now, if you don't mind, I have work to attend to." Tracy, very pointedly, turned her back on him and started typing at her computer.
Jack sighed and scrubbed a hand across his face. "Look, I haven't got the time for this. I'm Torchwood."
She raised an eyebrow, not taking her eyes from the computer-screen, and said coolly, "I'm afraid that I've never heard of 'Torchwood'. Now, please leave me in peace to do my job."
Jack scowled darkly at her back. "Fine," he muttered. He sat down in one of the flimsy plastic chairs lined up against the opposite wall. There was a poster tacked onto the wall about anti-smoking, the bottom left-hand corner ripped and crumpled.
He was the only person in the waiting room – or at least, he was the only person in the waiting room until the doors opened again and Gwen and Owen hurried through.
"Jack? Are you OK?" Gwen hurried to crouch next to him, putting her hand on his knee and looking up into his face with concerned brown eyes.
"Where's Ianto?" Owen asked.
Jack stared glumly at the ceiling. "They won't let me in."
"Bollocks to that," Owen said, striding up to Tracy. "Here – we're Torchwood, and I'm Dr Owen Harper. Ianto Jones is under my care."
"I'm afraid that only close family—"
"Look, I need to see him, 'kay? Just let us through." Owen tossed her a carelessly grim smile as he walked straight through the door behind her. "You two coming or not?"
Jack seemed to shake himself and jolt out of his glum stupor. He leapt to his feet, brushing off Gwen, and strode after Owen.
-T-
The Doctor wriggled free of the nurses' grip yet again. "I'm fine!" he protested. "Honestly – a hot shower and I'll be right as rain."
"We still need to check you over, sir," one of them said, a motherly brunette with gentle hazel eyes.
"I'm fine – I'm a doctor myself, y'know!"
"Just procedure, sir, that's all," another said, with the long-suffering air of one who had been through the same process many times before. "It won't take a moment."
The Doctor shook his head vigorously. "Nu-uh. Really—"
He was saved by Jack and Owen hurrying around the corner and nearly walking straight into them.
"Jack!" He said, delighted. "You're up!"
"Where's Ianto?" Jack asked, getting straight to the point.
"Not sure – I got dragged off by this lot. Sorry. Didn't you ask at reception?"
Jack ignored him and pushed straight past, opening the nearest door and checking the room inside.
Owen pushed open the next one and scanned the smaller room, immediately spotting Ianto in the bed under the window. "Jack – in here."
Jack fair flew into the room, striding over to Ianto's side and taking his hand. "What's wrong with him?"
Owen was flipping through the notes on the clipboard lying discarded on the bedside table. "Says here that he's sustained a nasty gash to the head, resulting in unconsciousness and possible concussion, as well as an arm broken in two separate places. He's had his head and arm x-rayed, as well as his ribs – to check for possible damage in other places." Owen squinted at the clipboard, deciding that he no longer agreed with the idea that a doctor's handwriting should be illegible. "I think that it says that they're going to set his arm in about half-an-hour or so. But that could also be two hours. Or a day - I can't really read it..."
"But will he be OK?" Jack's blue eyes didn't leave Ianto's pale face.
"Should be – he's stable, at any rate. There doesn't appear to be anything life-threatening, and the brain scans didn't show up stuff we should be worried about." Owen shrugged. "I couldn't say for certain myself until I've performed a full physical on him."
Jack grabbed a chair and dragged it over to Ianto's bedside. "Can— can you give me some time with him?"
Owen narrowed his eyes at Jack. "Are you sure you're OK, too?"
Jack waved him off. "I'm fine. You go and discuss... doctor-y things with the nurses."
Owen pulled a face. "No fun anymore."
"Please."
Owen sighed. "Fine. Call me if anything - and I mean, anything – happens, 'kay?"
"Yes, yes." Jack paid Owen no attention as the medic quietly exited the room. He was holding Ianto's hand gently, as if he was scared that his lover might break if he held him too hard.
Jack stroked the back of Ianto's hand with his thumb, feeling the timid flicker of life under the skin. He kissed the palm, willing the frail pulse to a stronger rhythm.
When Jack looked back up at Ianto's face, he could have sworn that Ianto's wan features briefly slipped into a contented smile.
:-D Longer chapter than usual, this time! I hope you guys liked it... please let me know, even if to tell me that it was crap and I need to do a rewrite. :-P