Chapter Fifty-Four
I'm sorry, I'm sorry... I had a music exam on Saturday, and then a sleepover, and have simply not had the time to write. :-( So sorry, once again.
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?
In other words, I don't own Torchwood.
Jack froze. He could hear the blood hammering in his ears; he felt as if somebody had kicked him in the stomach. "W-What are you talking about?" he demanded, willing his voice not to crack.
Gwen sighed. Her voice echoed emptily down the phone line. "The Doctor left the aliens some technology which they then ... well, they used to give people leukaemia."
"But the Doctor wouldn't kill anyone. He wouldn't kill Ianto." Jack rubbed his thumb along the seam of his trousers, wincing as it snagged a small cut. "He wouldn't," he repeated.
"No. I don't believe you. There must be some sort of misunderstanding," Jack said. He stuck his thumb in his mouth, tasting the iron tang of blood on his tongue.
"No misunderstanding, Jack," Gwen said sadly. "He admitted to it."
"This can't be happening," Jack said, pulling his thumb from his mouth and watching the blood well, scarlet tears that stung like bitter wine. I'm going to wake up, and everything will be fine.
"It is, Jack," Gwen said, her voice sympathetic. Damn you, Gwen bloody Cooper and your bleeding heart. "What do you want us to do?"
Jack clenched his fist, the skin stretching and whitening over the bone, and took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. His thumb throbbed, but as he glanced at it he saw the cut was now barely a scratch. "Gwen, do whatever you think is best. I'll be back sometime tomorrow." He ended the call before Gwen could respond, casting the mobile onto the floor with a clatter.
"Sir?"
Jack looked up; Cleo was standing there, a concerned frown on her pixie-features. "Surgery be almost over, sir," she said.
Jack felt a slight twist in his gut at the word 'sir', but stood up and nodded briskly at her. "Right, then," he said. "I'd better..." he trailed off, gesturing vaguely at the door behind her.
Cleo shook her head, her dry hair fluffed around her face. "The two be sleeping."
"I just want to see him. Them." Jack tried to step past her, but she barred the way.
"Wait," she pressed. "They two wake up."
"You want me to wait for them to wake up, before I visit?" Jack checked.
Cleo nodded solemnly.
"Oh. Okay, then." Jack scowled at the breeze-block wall. "How much longer?"
"Not long," Cleo said reassuringly and patted his arm somewhat awkwardly. "They be fine."
"I know," Jack said, wishing that the tight coil of nerves in his stomach would just relax. "I know."
-T-
The Doctor tugged at his bonds, cursing his bad luck. Beside him, Rosalinne's watery eyes were large above her gag, her shoulders shaking as she tried not to cry.
"Beddy-byes, kiddies," one of Blackbeard's henchmen – who the Doctor had privately named 'Annoying, Insulting Cockney Twat' – said with a smirk.
The Doctor would have made some smart-ass reply if it wasn't for the gag over his mouth. Instead, he thought of all the rudest names that he could remember – and there were a lot of them – and imagined yelling them at the top of his voice.
"Sleep tight – hope the bed-bugs don't bite," 'Annoying, Insulting Cockney Twat' continued, backing out the barn. He slammed the door behind him and the barn was left in darkness.
Darkness which then came alive, wriggling and scratching and smothering and biting and clawing.
-T-
Ianto opened his eyes to see Jack hovering over him.
"Y'know, this is becoming a far too regular occurrence," he managed to croak.
Jack's face broke into a relieved grin. "You're feeling okay, then?"
"Mmmhmm," Ianto agreed, shifting uncomfortably in his bed and trying to ignore the urge to scratch at the IV embedded in his hand.
There was a skylight in the middle of the ceiling, with dancing shafts of sunlight falling through the glass and pooling on the breezeblock floor.
Ianto frowned. "I thought we were below sea-level," he said, craning his neck to try and see through the skylight. He could just see the branch-tip of a gorse-bush tapping on the misted glass.
"We were," Jack said, getting up and lifting a vase of sea-lavender to press a couple of buttons on a keypad concealed beneath, "but this part is higher up, in the cliff."
Part of the wall slid down, revealing a glass panel that looked out across the sea. The sun was glittering off the water; seagulls swooped across it, their wing-tips just skimming the surface of the waves. Ianto could imagine the fresh breeze on his face, and the tang of the salt in the air.
"Nice day," Jack said, perching on the edge of Ianto's bed and gazing out across the sea. Guernsey was just visible on the horizon, a looming, misshapen mass of trees, houses and rocks.
"How come this has never been discovered?" Ianto asked, taking his eyes off Jack to stare out the window. "Surely people must have come across it before?"
"Perception filter," Jack said casually, looking around at him with a slight smile quirking the corner of his lips.
"Of course," Ianto said. He felt a bit stupid. "Sorry. That was rather obvious, wasn't it?"
"Just a bit," Jack agreed with am amused chuckle.
Ianto let it drift into silence, just watching the boaters out on the water; water-sports were popular today, he noted.
Finally breaking the companionable quiet after a couple of minutes had passed, Jack said, "We can go home today, if you like."
"What about G-Ianto?" Ianto stared at Jack, surprised that he could forget so quickly.
Jack shrugged. "Well, I kinda assumed that he'd want to do his own thing."
"Have you asked him?"
Jack worried his lower lip between his teeth, eyes narrowed slightly. He still didn't look at Ianto. "Not exactly. He's not awake yet."
"How is he?" Ianto asked, suddenly anxious for the well-being of his doppelganger.
"I ... I haven't actually checked in on him yet," Jack admitted. "I wanted to wait for you to wake up, first."
"You idiot," Ianto said. He ignored the little voice that whispered in his brain, 'See, this is how much he cares for people who love him.' "Go and check on him, now."
"Are you—"
"I'll be fine." Ianto nodded at the door. "Now go!"
-T-
"Jack?"
Jack swallowed, taking a step closer to the bed so that G-Ianto could see him. "I'm here."
"Hurts, Jack," G-Ianto said in a cracked whisper.
"I know. I'm sorry." Jack carefully reached out and smoothed back G-Ianto's sweat-soaked hair from his face. "It'll be alright. You'll see."
"'kay." G-Ianto closed his vivid green eyes and took a careful gasp.
Standing by the bedside, Cleo turned her orb-like grey eyes on Jack, almost reproachful. "Not long now," she said.
"Yeah – your medicine's amazing. We'll have him up and running about in no time," Jack agreed, smiling in spite of himself.
Cleo hesitated. Then, "Not up."
Jack frowned. "What d'you mean?" he asked with a nervous laugh. "Of course he'll be fine."
"He not from here," Cleo said sadly. "He from water-world."
"'Water-world'?"
"World made by vibrating water molecules," Cleo said, fixing her eyes on the ceiling as if reciting from memory. "Creates world within world – water-world."
"So what're you saying?" Jack asked. "Are you saying that he needs to go back to his world?"
"He die."
Jack shook his head. "No. No – surely there must be something you can do. You cured Ianto of leukaemia – surely you can stop him dying?"
"He die," Cleo repeated, checking the IV feed implanted in G-Ianto's hand. Then, with a swift tug, she pulled it loose. "Peaceful. He saved friend."
"But he's dying!" Jack exploded. He grabbed Cleo by the shoulders, ignoring her muffled squeak of protest. "You have to do something!"
"Nothing can do!" Cleo whimpered, eyes wide and terrified. "Nothing can do!"
Jack let her go; he knelt by G-Ianto's bedside and took his clammy hand in his own. "So that's it?" he asked quietly. "I just have to ... let him go?"
"Nothing can do," Cleo repeated. "Nothing can do."
Okay, I hope you enjoyed/liked this chapter, and I'm sorry about the long wait.
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