Again, huge thank you's to everybody... I feel like I owe an apology for any false sense of security I gave in sending Ianto away for the moment... he doesn't stay away for long. And yes, Nerys helped them in the criminal endevours....
Chapter Eighteen:
Day Three, Part Two
"He who passively accepts evil is as much involved in it as he who helps to perpetrate it.
He who accepts evil without protesting against it is really cooperating with it."
Martin Luther King, JR.
"Sarah Jane," Ianto breathed softly into the hug she gave him. They were standing on the street corner where they'd first met when the Daleks invaded, before stealing the Earth out of orbit. "I can't tell you how glad I am to see you."
"Likewise," Sarah Jane told him.
"It's good to see you too," Ianto took Sara's hands into his and held onto them tightly for a moment.
"What about Jack?" she wanted to know, even though Sarah Jane must have told her that he was all right.
"He's fine," Ianto promised. "Well, he was after we got him out of the track pants and t-shirt he borrowed off Rhys," he added with a smirk.
Sara laughed at the mental image he'd just conjured for her. "I bet he wished he was dead all over again."
"Pretty much, yeah," he agreed. Then he turned back to Sarah Jane Smith. "How are Jason and Seren? Jack's mam?"
"They're doing fine. Luke and K-9 are looking after them," she assured him. "I think Jason is a little shaken by all this, but he's a tough little boy."
"He'd have to be." Everything Jason had been through, losing his other father, being brought back through time, finding his Papa again, finding him married, being stuck on a strange planet in what Jack considered the sexual dark ages, having to lie about so many things… Sarah Jane laid a hand on his shoulder. He gave her a tight lipped smile and asked if anyone had suspected that Jason wasn't being affected by whatever was affected the other children.
"No. We've kept him inside. But he's had visitors, Maria from across the street, and Clyde's been by. He's doing fine, Ianto."
"How has Seren been for you? Not keeping the whole house up at night, I hope?" He had so hoped to see both Jason and Seren for himself, to hug them, give Seren that kiss from Jack… but Sarah Jane was right not to bring them with her, it was too dangerous.
"Well… I must say I've never really had a baby in my house before… oh she's fine, Ianto," she said to his expression. "Jack's mum is lovely with her. And she said to give both you and Jack her love and that I should tell you to bring her son back to her in one piece," she smiled.
He grimaced; if Ella had had any idea what had happened to him… he forced a smile, unaware of the way he was rubbing his thumb against his wedding ring. He doubted his husband would ever tell his mother what had happened to him two days ago. "Give her Jack's love back, then. And mine. Tell her I'll be doing my best to look after him."
"Look after yourself, as well," Sarah Jane advised.
"Always. Thank you. I should be getting back," he told her then, glancing up and down the street… no one seemed to be paying them any mind. He reached into his pocket for a computer disk. "Here's everything we've got so far," he passed it over. "Is there any way you can contact Harry Sullivan?"
"I should be able to do, why?"
"Something is going on at Thames House. We have someone inside, but we could do with any help he can give us. The Home Office is…they've shut us out. They should have asked for Torchwood's help, but instead they tried to assassinate Jack, did kill three other people, but we don't know what the connection is. It's all on the disk."
She nodded and handed him a set of disks from her bag. "Here's everything we've got. Mr Smith was able to isolate the signal, it's definitely coming from space, but we can't block it. Whatever, or whoever they are, it's not a species I've seen before. Here," she handed him what looked like a mobile phone. "They can't trace this, it doesn't use the mobile network. You can use it to keep in touch."
"All right." He pocketed the phone and looked to Sara, "Ready to go back to work?"
She flashed a wide grin, "Oh yeah."
The Welshman turned to Sarah Jane. "Thanks again. Tell… tell Jason we love him. We miss him—both of us."
"I will. There's a disk in there marked 'personal'. It's not much, just something from Jason to you and Jack. He really misses you. Both of you, Ianto. That little boy loves you very much."
"I know. I love him too."
"All right," she gave him a quick, last hug, "now go on and do what you and Jack do best."
"I should think we'd better save the world first."
"Oh!" She his arm, laughing. "You. You've spent entirely too much time around that Captain of yours, Ianto Jones."
"Every chance I get."
She shook her head, still smiling. "Take care yourself. And him. I know he's immortal, but…I still worry."
"Me too," he leant in and kissed her cheek.
Sarah Jane watched them go, then turned and headed home…
…………………………………………………………….
"So how bad is it, really?" Sara asked when she and Ianto got back on the road; they were in Mickey's jeep.
"We're living like criminals in an old abandoned Torchwood One facility. We have a hand full of guns, ammunition…contact lenses. Don't ask. And we've stolen enough money and computer equipment from the good citizens of London to, oh, I don't know, set ourselves up in a very small office cubical," his tone was ripe with cynicism. "But on the flipside, we can still get into the server, so at least we have access to all our software. And I managed to find an army surplus store that had a greatcoat in Jack's size," he added with a much less cynical looking smile.
Sara chuckled. "I'm sure you made him a very happy man."
"Not nearly as…" he cleared his throat, deciding not to go there. "It was nice to get him out of Rhys's clothes, at least."
"I'm sure it was," she smirked.
He remained mute on the subject.
Sara hesitated a moment before asking if anyone had heard from the rest of the team, yet.
"Mickey got a call from Tim and Abby a couple of days ago, but we haven't heard from them since, or from Bobby and Wendy. I'm sure they're fine," he lied. Well… it wasn't complete lie. He hoped they were fine. He believed that they were; he had to believe.
He continued to fill Sara in on the events of the last couple of days as he drove. By the time they reached to the warehouse, she was up to speed…and he saw that they had a visitor, Clement MacDonald, freshly sprung from jail thanks to Gwen—with a little help from PC Andy Davidson.
"Where's Jack?" he asked, realizing quickly that someone was missing.
"He went swanning off again," Mickey told him. "Me an' him were looking at the history for that Holly Tree Lodge, Clem there, and those other three people, the ones that died the same day…well…" he shrugged, Clem wasn't really within earshot, but he still wasn't going to say something like how Jack had died and come back, how he did it on a regular basis, in fact. "Then all of a sudden, he gets this funny look on his face and he bolts out the door without so much as a word about where he's goin' or why. I haven't heard from him since."
Ianto felt his jaw clenching in frustration. But getting angry wouldn't help. "All right. This is what I got from Sarah Jane," he handed over the disks, all but the one that was meant for he and Jack personally. "Hopefully there's something on there that will be useful to us. She gave me this too, said it was untraceable," he gave Mickey the 'phone,' and started to turn towards the kitchen area.
"What're you doing, then?"
"Putting on a pot of coffee." He needed it. He didn't care about what anybody else needed just then, he needed coffee. Of all the times for Jack to decide to pull a disappearing act on them…
"Ianto—" Mickey called, causing him to turn back around. "I…I'm not sure it's my place, mate, but Nerys had a go at Jack earlier. I only caught part of it…but… she's been kinda… distant since. I think it's the whole him not bein' able to die."
The Welshman bit down on his anger. Nerys wouldn't even be there if it weren't for Mickey the Idiot… no, he realized, that probably wasn't true. He knew what his sister was like. "I'll talk to her. Thanks."
…………………………………………………
Ianto found his sister sitting outside by herself just staring out at the city. The sun had set, the city was ablaze with lights. It almost seemed normal.
"Doesn't look the same, does it?" he asked her, handing her a cup of coffee and then sitting down next to her, his own mug in hand.
"Why didn't you tell me any of this Ianto?"
"Tell you what, exactly? You know what I do. You even know that Jack is from another time, another planet."
"But you said he was human."
"He is."
"He can't die."
"No. He can't die."
"And he never gets any older looking…"
He smiled. "He found a gray hair last week."
She just looked at him, unable to fathom his calm. "How do you do it, Ianto? How do you…how can you be with somebody who won't ever look any older? Someone who will outlive you, who…who will just move on when you're dead? You know he will, don't you? He'll meet someone else, start a new life…" despite her best efforts, she was crying again. She didn't even know why any more.
"I want him to move on, find somebody else. Love somebody else. Maybe even get married again," he smiled… the thought of Jack happy always made him smile, even if it was the thought of him happy with someone else.
"How…how can you say something like that? You're supposed to want him to love you. Only you."
He set down his cup and rested a hand on her arm. "Nerys, his life is too long. Mine is too short. When I die, he will move on. I'm at peace with that. I have been for a long time."
"How?"
"I love him."
She was about to open her mouth, to ask how anybody could possibly love someone that much, when a pair of unfamiliar vehicles, both SUV's, rounded the corner and stopped just in front of the warehouse.
Ianto swore and bolted back inside.
"We've got company!" He announced, grabbing up the gun he'd set down when he went to make the coffee. Mickey had his in hand by the time Ianto was armed and ready.
Clem flinched and darted behind Rhys as Gwen and Sara armed themselves as well.
A moment later they heard the voice.
"Here it is, Torchwood…" Tim stopped mid-sentence.
There was a moment's pause while all and sundry gathered up scattered wits before guns were lowered and exuberant greetings exchanged.
"I was so afraid I would never see you again," Wendy pulled Ianto up into a fierce, nearly rib-cracking, hug.
He didn't mind. "Me too," he told her. "We knew they deployed teams to the US, but we couldn't get in touch, not without risking…" guilt still plagued him for that. He should have risked it, should warned them.
She shook her head. "It was the right decision, Ianto."
Martha was behind her, waiting for a chance to hug him; her embrace was eager. "Where's Jack?" she wanted to know, after they'd pulled apart and she'd had a chance to look around. "Ianto…"
"He's all right," the Welshman assured her quickly. "He—"
"He ran off again," Gwen cut him off. "Don't know where, but that's typical Jack, then, isn't it?" she didn't sound pleased.
"I'm sure it was something important," Ianto said in a firm tone, not that he was any more pleased with Jack than she was at the moment, but he was aware that the man the others brought with them, a man he recognized from his background search on Abby and Tim as their former supervisor from NCIS, was listening. Watching. Assessing the situation. He straightened himself and walked over to him, extending his hand. "Ianto Jones-Harkness, Sir. Welcome to Torchwood—such as it is at the moment."
"Jethro Gibbs," he accepted the young man's handshake; it was firmer than he would have expected.
"If it weren't for Gibbs we never would have gotten home," Abby informed Ianto.
"We appreciate the assistance," the young Welshman said to him, in an earnest, formal tone—although he had no idea what Jack was going to say to it when he got back. "Can I offer you a cup of coffee?"
"Ianto makes the best coffee!"
"So I've heard," said Gibbs, still regarding the young man in the three piece suit with interest. Most of the rest of the group seemed to be falling in line behind him, making a semi-circle around him, all except for the dark skinned kid in a leather jacket, who was back at the computers working on something, and the big guy… the old man… the girl sitting on the sofa looking a big shell shocked.
"I don't know about the 'best' coffee," the Welshman said modestly, casting a quick glance in Wendy's direction, "but I certainly try. Please," he gestured courteously towards the make-shift living area. "I'm afraid it's not much, but we've got the basics covered at least. Obviously you've met Bobby and Wendy," he said, beginning the introductions. "This is Gwen Cooper and her husband, Rhys Williams,"
"Not Torchwood, thank you," Rhys informed him, although his tone was amiable enough. "Just an average citizen doing my bit for crown and country, yeah," he added with a grin.
Ianto continued, "This is Sara Sidle, formerly of the Las Vegas Crime Lab, in the United States," (she reached over and shook Gibbs' hand, exchanging brief pleasantries) "and that's Mickey Smith over there by the computers."
The dark skinned kid looked up, flashed a grin and gave vague sort of a salute.
"And this is my sister Nerys… and Mr Clem MacDonald," he nodded towards the skittish looking old man who seemed to be trying very hard not to be noticed. "Coffee won't be a moment, feel free to make yourself comfortable," he added in Gibbs' direction.
He nodded his thanks and took a seat that gave him a good vantage point of most of the area. The boy in the suit—he couldn't be more than twenty five—wasn't the one Gibbs would have pegged as the leader, but he seemed to bear the role comfortable, and the rest of them seemed to respect him in it.
Abby joined Mickey at the computers and asked him to fill her in on what they had; Tim and Sara followed right behind her.
"We've been compiling the data we got from Sarah Jane," Sara told her, "we're trying to use it to get a more complete picture of what's really going on out there."
Ianto looked over his shoulder while he was making the coffee. "Bobby, Martha, I'd like you to have a look at Mr MacDonald…" he glanced around. "Clem?"
He had moved further behind Rhys again, further into the shadows.
"It's all right, mate," the big man told him. "They're friends. Really. You can trust us."
"She's different," he looked directly at Wendy. "She doesn't smell like the rest of you. She isn't human!" he cried, much to Wendy's obvious discomfort.
Bobby shifted closer to her, took her hand.
Gwen moved towards Clem at the same time. "You're safe here, remember?" she soothed. "And remember, when we talked before and I said I'd met lots of aliens? Not all of them are bad. Some of them are our friends. Wendy is our friend. She would be your friend too, if you wanted her to," she held her hand out for Wendy.
Bobby gave her a look, silently questioning if she was sure what she knew was doing—across the room, Ianto's expression was much the same, especially as he glanced towards Tim and Abby's old boss—but Wendy moved over to him anyway and Gibbs didn't show any signs of thinking this was weird. Which really only meant he must be a Hell of a poker player.
"I won't hurt you," Wendy promised the old man.
He sniffed the air. "You're telling the truth!" he looked at Gwen, "She's telling the truth!"
"Yes she is," she agreed.
Wendy favoured him with a kind smile. "I know it's overwhelming here," her tone was equally kind, patient. "I was overwhelmed when I first met all these new people too. But they're good people, Clem. Good friends."
He nodded, slowly, but he looked less afraid.
Gwen took him by the hand and drew him out from around her husband. "Bobby and Martha are doctors…"
He flinched.
"Not that kind of doctors," she assured him quickly.
The pair exchanged brief perplexed looks; she stepped forward first, seeing as the old man seemed to have an easier time with strangers who were female.
"Clem was it?" She asked in a gentle tone. "My name's Martha," she held out her hand… he accepted…and drew it up to his nose, inhaling deeply. Whatever he smelled, he seemed satisfied by it. "Well, that was…different…" she glanced up at Bobby, who had no more idea what that had been all about than she did.
"Clem is the only adult being been 'affected' the same way as the children," Gwen told them. "We don't know why, but Mickey can pull up his history for you," she nodded to Bobby, since Clem was still eyeing him wearily but seemed to have accepted Martha.
"That's not quite true," Wendy told them in a sheepish tone. "He's not the only adult. I erm… something… I feel something, every time they speak through the children, I feel it."
Clem looked back at her wide eyed, but not with fear—it was more like he finally felt wasn't alone any more, that someone else understood him. Really understood him.
Ianto looked up as well, however his expression was anything but happy.
Wendy cleared her throat. She wasn't used to being front and centre, only it wasn't just Ianto staring at her, waiting for an explanation. "It started right before the first incident," she said, "and hasn't really gone away since, it just…it changes. I can feel it changing just before the kids start to speak—every time it happens, it feels like I'm getting a better handle on it. I don't hear the words, but whatever signal they're using to make the kids do that, I feel it, too."
"We think it's because of what Wendy is," Abby interjected. "Because her senses are so much better than ours…"
Ianto shot her a dark look. It was one thing to have the raving lunatic going on about her not being human—
"It's all right, Yan," Wendy told him. "He already knows."
Ianto blinked. Nodded once. And went back to fixing the coffee. He would decide later if they were going to have to retcon Jethro Gibbs. Or better yet, Jack would decide, if he ever came back.
"Hey, guys," Sara called, drawing their attention towards the computer. "I think that woman you've got inside just put the contacts in. I'm getting a signal."
"Oh yes, Lois! Good girl!" Gwen exclaimed, darting for the computer. Sara slid over so her colleague could get in front of the laptop. "Thanks… Clem," she motioned him towards her as the others started to gather around. "Clem, come see this," she coaxed gently.
As the others gathered around the computer, Nerys slipped into the kitchen area to give Ianto a hand. "Ianto, I…" she laid a hand on his shoulder. "I—I'm sorry—what I said. I know what I must've sounded like."
"You're entitled to your opinion," he said, his tone colder than he'd meant it. He didn't look at her, not directly. He was busy fixing everybody's cups.
"Ianto…please."
He stopped, met her gaze. "You really are entitled to your opinion, Nerys."
"I'm sorry."
"Accepted." He smiled. "I realize that there are a lot of people who wouldn't understand about us. I don't understand it myself most of the time," he admitted. "I just know how I feel, how much he means to me. There is nothing about my life that I would change." Just please get back here… he thought in the other's direction.
…………………………………………………
"So what is this," Gibbs was asking, as Ianto set the coffee cup down by his elbow, the handle exactly at seven o'clock. He regarded it a moment, regarded the young man, and then turned his attention back to the laptop screen. "Some kind of surveillance glasses?" he questioned.
Gwen grinned up over at him, "Something like that."
"Audio?" he asked.
"No. But we have lip reading software."
"Except she can't see his face, can she?" Mickey pointed out.
"Hang on," Gwen typed something onto the keyboard.
" 'Need to see his moth'?" Rhys queried.
"Shut up," Gwen snapped as she retyped the sentence, without the typo this time.
"You can send messages—?" Gibbs wanted to know.
"She sees the words I'm tying," the Welshwoman confirmed. "Pretty cool, yeah?"
"You should have seen the Hub," Abby began. She glanced around; she hadn't asked yet, she'd been too afraid to. "How bad is it?"
"Total destruction," Ianto informed her.
"Myfanwy?"
"Flying around Barry," said Rhys. "Saw it in the Sun last night, 'Dinosaur Sighting'," he gave a broad grin in Abby's direction. "Had to be her, didn't it? Well, unless there's another one flying around…"
Gibbs gave him a look, clearly not certain whether or not he should believe anything about flying dinosaurs in Barry, or anywhere else for that matter.
Ianto cleared his throat, effectively ending the discussion about the pterodactyl. It was going to be him and Jack who would have to track her down, catch her, bring her back home again, when this was all over. He was the only one she would really come to anyway, although he supposed she did rather fancy Abby almost as much as Abby fancied her.
"Why can't we hear the alien's replies?" Mickey wondered aloud; Lois had moved so that they were getting Frobisher's half of the conversation, but not that alien's.
"Probably because it doesn't have a mouth," Sara opined. "No mouth, no lips to read."
"Hang on…" Gwen typed in a message for Lois.
The image panned down to her notepad…
"Great, bloody shorthand," Rhys grumbled.
"I can read that," Ianto told them.
"Me too… I just…" Tim cleared his throat. "You know, if you need help. I'll shut up now," he offered.
"I still love you, Timmy," Abby comforted him.
Gibbs made little effort to hide his smile at that.
"Shhh, quiet," Gwen hissed. "Frobisher is talking again."
Just then there was a slight jolt from Lois as green slime splattered all over the inside of the tank housing the alien.
"What the Hell was that? " Sara leaned in for a closer look as Clem MacDonald flinched away, terrified. Wendy sidled in next to him, telling him quietly that it was all right, she wouldn't let anything happen to him, she promised.
Martha peered over Gwen's other shoulder. "Can you zoom in at all?" she asked.
"A bit yeah," said Gwen, but it didn't seem to help. "It's that smoke, it's too thick, we can't see a bloody thing!"
Sara reached around Gwen as she was talking and typed what just happened? into the keyboard.
" 'Was going to ask you same,' " Ianto translated the shorthand.
Bobby edged in between Sara and Martha, looking over top of Gwen's head for a better view of the screen. "I've never seen anything like that before."
Gibbs gave him a look. "You see a lot of aliens in Cardiff, Dr Chase?" his tone was incredulous. He didn't notice the guilty look plaguing Abby's face, didn't know that the cause of it was having had to retcon Tony last Christmas…
"Plenty, thanks," the Australian replied, taking a sip from his coffee cup. He turned back to the screen. "I just wish we could get a first hand look at that room. It looks like there's some kind of gauge on the outside of the tank," he pointed it out. "If I could see it, I might be able to tell what the atmosphere inside the tank is. It might give us a better idea what we're dealing with."
"Well whatever it is, that air can't be anything like Earth's atmosphere," said Martha.
"No…" he agreed, leaning in closer, right over top of Gwen, trying to get a better look.
"Hang on," she adjusted the zoom for a wider view as Lois turned back towards Frobisher. He speaking again.
"God, is he a smarmy weasel or what?" Mickey said, not quite under his breath, as the politician rambled.
"The smarmiest," Abby agreed.
"I've been given a request for specific information," Frobisher was saying, his words relayed to them through the laptop. "It has been asked, why the 456 chose Great Britain as its chosen place of embarkation."
" 'We came here,' " Ianto said, reading Lois' shorthand.
"Because?" Sara asked him.
"That's all it says," Tim interjected before the other could reply.
"It's like it's thinking about the answer…?" Ianto shot over a questioning look.
"Why would it have to think about it?" Mickey wanted to know. "It must know why they came here."
"Hang on," Ianto told them. " 'We came here because you are of no significance'," he read. " 'You are middle men.' "
"That's a lie!" said Gwen. "They came here because they've been here before, in 1965! We know that."
Gibbs gave her a look. "You do. But does anybody else whose seeing this know it?" he inquired in a thoughtful tone.
They looked at one another… "They couldn't," Gwen finally answered him. "Not unless somebody told them…"
"They're covering their asses," said Sara. "Those…"
"Those rotten, no good, smarmy weasels!" Abby cut her off. It wasn't what Sara was going to call them, but it was close enough.
"It's Frobisher," Ianto breathed. "His office. The Home Office. Whatever happened in the past, they're the ones who are hiding it. That's why we've been cut out of what's going on—why Martha was cut out."
"Politicians," said Gibbs, draining the last of his coffee. It didn't matter what side of the Atlantic one was on, politicians were all the same.
"I don't understand," Nerys spoke up for the first time, having watched the whole thing in stark, gut twisting horror. "Why would they do that? Aren't you lot supposed to be the alien experts or something?"
Ianto slid over to her, eased his hands around her waist, drew her in close. "It's not that simple, Ner—"
"Hang on," said Tim, "It's Lois," he drew their attention back to the screen. "She says they have a 'request'," he translated the shorthand. "The aliens, they have a request," his tone betrayed his dubiousness of the nature of anything they might be about to ask for.
"By all means," Frobisher responded.
"We want a gift," Ianto got the next bit of shorthand.
"By all means," said Frobisher. "What ah, what nature of gift?"
" 'We want a gift'," it repeated.
"A gift, gladly, but what do you want?" Frobisher repeated.
" 'We want your children. We will take your children,' " even as he read the words, Ianto's stomach churned and tightened into a cold hard knot. Nerys turned in his arms, silencing her sob into his shoulder; he wrapped his arms around her, but he couldn't think of anything to say.
"They want to take them," Clem was pacing. "They want to take them like they did before, like the man did…"
"No," Abby protested. "No. We won't let them…no!" she looked to Ianto, but the Welshman was still too stunned to speak.
"Like Hell those…whatever they are, are taking anybody's kids," said Gibbs.
"Hell, no!" Mickey agreed with him.
"Right," Martha nodded. "We need a plan."
"We need Jack," said Ianto, his voice so quiet nobody but Nerys heard him. "I need him," he whispered, softer yet.
Behind them, Clem was still pacing, still rambling, sniffing the air as if he could smell something.
Wendy tried to calm him. "It's all right," she said. "No one's coming, it's all right, you're safe here. I promise you, you're safe here," she looked up as she heard footsteps in the warehouse, but it was just Jack. She knew his scent. He was finally back and everything would be all right. "Clem…" he'd stopped pacing and was staring straight ahead:
"No, no it's not all right! He's coming back. The man… he's coming, he's coming…he's …he hasn't changed, he's just the same!"
"Clement MacDonald," Jack's voice, though softer than usual, brought about absolute silence, save for soft the hum and whir of the computers running. "Just another name. It was easier if you didn't know the names."
