Chapter Thirty-Three
Here's another chapter! A version of this was originally chapter 32, but then I realised that it didn't work, so I had to rewrite. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own Torchwood. –cries-
Jack leapt to his feet as soon as the attendants wheeled Ianto through the door.
"Is he OK?" he demanded, rushing over and peering at Ianto's pale face.
"The doctors say that he's sedated at the moment, but give him a while and he may well start to wake up," one of the attendants said. He was a gangly youth with acne and spiky blond hair. "They managed to stabilise him, so he should be fine – they also set his arm. They're actually running some tests at the moment, on Mr Jones' blood – they noticed something unusual that they needed to check."
The other attendant, a short Indian-looking woman in her mid-twenties, smiled at Jack. "He's fine," she reassured him, "but give us a call if anything happens."
Jack nodded, carefully lifting Ianto's head and helping them to lay him down on the bed and tuck the sheets around him. "Will do."
The female attendant gave him one last smile as she followed her companion out the door. He managed a feeble approximation of his usual blinding grin, letting it slide off his face as soon as the door had closed behind them.
He flopped into the chair, his knees suddenly feeling weak and shaky. Ianto's breathing remained slow and measured, and Jack felt a surge of relief wash up over him. He bit his lip, tears springing to his eyes.
He wiped the back of his hand across his eyes and sniffed, trying to get his emotions under control. He picked up a magazine from the bedside table and flipped to a random page, needing to do something before the tears became too hard to keep under wraps.
The clock in the corner ticked, strangely in sync with Ianto's breathing. Jack hadn't noticed the clock before, but now he heard it counting away the seconds, he couldn't help but listen to what it was saying.
Clocks reminded him of Ianto. You didn't always notice them, but they were always there, reliable and reserved. Like clocks, Ianto was timeless – Jack was convinced that Ianto would manage to fit right in wherever he went, whenever he went. Ianto was that sort of person.
There was a strained whimper from the bed; Jack threw down the magazine and leapt to his feet.
Ianto was pale as death itself, as pale as Owen, and he looked dreadful. There was a mottled bruise across his right cheekbone, and his eyes dopey. He smiled up at Jack, and Jack struggled to keep back the tears.
"What possessed you to stand right on the edge of a cliff, you idiot?" Jack asked, trying for a chuckle despite the tightness in his throat. "That's strictly for me to do."
Ianto frowned. "I—"
Jack stopped him with a forefinger gently touched to his lips. "Ssh. Don't try to talk now. We'll discuss everything once you're feeling better."
"But aren't you—"
"Please just rest, Ianto," Jack pleaded, the worry he felt spilling over into his voice and face. "You had a nasty head wound. If the Doctor and Julia hadn't found you when they did—" He broke off, his voice catching in his throat. He grimaced. "Anyway, I need you up and running as soon as possible. You were out for a good forty-eight hours."
Ianto's eyes widened. "Two days? What—?"
Don't worry," Jack said, anxious that his heart rate didn't get up after the surgery. "Everything's OK. Just rest, and get better. Please. For me."
Ianto settled back into the pillows, wriggling sideways to make space on the bed. "Stay with me?" His eyes were beseeching, his entire frame looking fragile against the white sheets.
Jack smiled at him. "I was only waiting for you to ask."
Jack bent down to unlace his shoes, before settling down next to Ianto and draping an arm over him. "That OK?"
"Mmhuh..." Ianto sighed contentedly, closing his eyes again.
The door opened and Owen poked his head in. "Gwen wants to speak to you, Jack," he said apologetically, holding out his mobile phone. "She wouldn't take no for an answer."
Jack growled under his breath. "Tell her to try again later."
Owen repeated this to Gwen down the other end of the line, and winced as Gwen unleashed her temper on him. He held the phone away from his ear. "She says that you need to stop being such a bloody idiot as what she has to say is important."
Jack sighed. "I said no."
Ianto rolled over to lie on his back and prodded Jack in the side with his good arm. "Go on," he encouraged, through a wide yawn. "She's only trying to help."
Jack scowled. "Fine. Gimme the phone."
Owen handed Jack the mobile and left the room, shutting the door behind him.
"Gwen." Jack was too tired to dole out the cold act. He just wanted to get this phone call over and done with, so that he could just hold Ianto and sleep.
"Finally! What the hell persuaded you to talk to me?"
"That doesn't matter. Just make it quick – I wanna go to sleep." Jack rubbed his eyes, his vision blurry from exhaustion.
"I think that I've found something else about our aliens," Gwen said, speaking at top speed. "Apparently Mrs Applegate's daughter, Clara, was talking to mermaids before she died."
"So?" Jack fought a yawn.
Ianto shifted so that his head was resting on Jack's chest.
Jack smiled and carded his fingers through Ianto's hair, only vaguely realising that Gwen was saying something. "Hmm?" he asked. "Sorry, can you repeat that?"
Gwen sighed. "I said, Clara was talking to mermaids before she died – the doctors just thought that she was crazy."
"But you think that it's something else— hang on a sec, I'm just going to put you on speaker." Jack pressed the speaker button and placed it on the bedside table. He wrapped an arm around Ianto, hugging him tightly.
"Is Ianto awake, then?" Gwen asked, sounding hugely relieved.
"I'm here," Ianto replied. "Just tired."
"How are you feeling, sweetie? Do you need anything? I can get you a tea from the—"
"I'm fine, Gwen," Ianto cut her off. "You were saying about Clara?"
Gwen paused for a moment. "There isn't much to say, really. She died a few months back, from leukaemia. She had apparently been talking to what she called mermaids for years beforehand – the doctors were completely at a loss as to why she thought that, so they treated it like a mental illness."
"So... what are you suggesting, exactly?" Ianto asked, frowning. He wriggled to sit up properly, grimacing as he banged his arm. Jack steadied him, sitting up as well. Ianto squeezed his hand by as a thankyou. "D'you think that the 'mermaids' were actually the aliens?"
"I don't know," Gwen said, "but I suspect it. What I'm wondering is why they made contact with her in the first place, and why it's taken so long for them to get hold of us."
"It was definitely leukaemia that killed Clara?" Jack asked, far more awake and alert than he had been a minute ago.
"That's what Julia said," Gwen replied. "Why?"
Jack tugged on his lower lip with his teeth, not answering. His eyes were vacant as he stared at the poster on the opposite wall, one advertising Kleenex.
"Jack?" Gwen pressed.
Ianto poked him in the side. "Jack, Gwen just asked you a question."
Jack turned his vacant blue gaze on Ianto, seemingly not recognizing the Welshman for a moment before he shook himself and smiled at Ianto. Ianto nodded at the phone.
"Jack, what's wrong?" Gwen asked. "What happened?"
"Nothing to worry about," Jack reassured her. "I was just thinking."
"Thinking about what?"
Jack took a deep breath. "I was wondering if that was the way they killed," he said, struggling to get the words out.
Ianto frowned. "But—"
"The symptoms all fit," Jack said softly. "The nausea, the tiredness, the headaches... I thought that you were looking a little paler than usual recently."
"Are you saying that I... died... of leukaemia?"
Jack swallowed. "I think so, yeah."
"But doesn't it take a long time for leukaemia to develop?" Gwen questioned. Her voice sounded almost prickly through the line.
"In normal cases, yes," Jack said. "They most likely accelerated it, or something."
Ianto was silent, and when Jack looked at him he saw that shutters had closed across his face. He felt a sharp tug in his gut that Ianto was still shutting himself off, after everything that they'd been through together - he wanted to reach out and envelop his lover in a hug, to protect him from all of this. But he couldn't. He had to be the Captain.
"I'm not an expert on cancer," he continued, "so I think it would be better to ask Owen, but I'd put my money on there being a connection between Ianto and Clara."
"I need to talk to Tosh now, let her know that you're awake, Ianto," Gwen said. "You OK?"
"Yeah, we're fine," Jack lied. "See you."
He reached over to pick up the phone and snapped it shut, unable to look at Ianto.
"Jack?" Ianto's voice was barely more than a whisper.
"Yeah?"
"I... I'm scared, Jack," Ianto admitted, biting his lip and plucking at the sheets, not meeting Jack's eyes.
This time, Jack didn't stop himself from drawing him into an embrace, which Ianto sagged into.
Careful not to knock Ianto's broken arm, Jack manoeuvred them into a more comfortable position, with their heads close together. He stroked Ianto's back and allowed himself a brief moment to worry and feel the full extent of his fear.
They couldn't take Ianto away from him again – he didn't think that he'd cope this time.
Ianto sighed, his breath ghosting over the shell of Jack's ear. Jack smiled sadly and wrapped his arms tighter around his younger lover, burying his nose in Ianto's shoulder and simply savouring the moment.
The clock ticked away in the corner.
I know I said that it was only going to be 35 chapters, but it looks like it's going to be more – even with these longer chapters, the muse got a hold of my plot and started playing... 'nuff said. :-P
Hope you don't mind – and reviews are loved! :-D