Rubbing his eyes, Jack pulled it closer to him. He couldn't believe what he was reading.
Torchwood House
The Werewolf Report
Part 55
2008
I. Jones
"What the hell is this?!" Jack shouted, looking around the room and staring at the three people in it. 'Why would Ianto write a report for Torchwood House? And about werewolves? We haven't even seen a werewolf, so how the hell can he write them…'
"Read it, Jack. Then we'll tell you why we wish to talk with Ianto." Martha said in a calming voice.
With his face tight with skepticism, Jack opened the file. He was a bit surpried to find that there were only two bits of paper wedged between the heavy card. The papers were sunburnt and stained with god knows what, making it difficult to read in parts. With a quick glance Jack could tell that the scraps were not in-sync to one another, like they had come from different ends of the report.
Werewolves and their change are not solely ruled by the full moon. They may change between their human and werewolf form whether it is night or day, half moon or no moon, but they cannot stop the change that will take place during the full moon. During certain months that changing between bodies becomes more exhausting and difficult than others e.g. March, December. Other months the changing becomes easier e.g. February and October.
Werewolves age at an almost unnoticeable rate, far slower than that of a human, meaning they live to a very old age (no figures at this time). Rumours tell of a human being newly turned in the mid 1800's alive to this day (2009). Similarly, there is evidence of a werewolf born in 1916 also alive today (2009). He is officially 93 years old, but because of the slow aging rate, looks no older than early 20's. (See The Blaidd Report 1966 for further details.)
Most werewolves will only mate with other werewolves that they have turned; while others will mate solely with pre-existing werewolves. This means that many wives, husbands, girlfriends and boyfriends have been turned. There is also a very small group of werewolves that don't mate with any other werewolves, these are usually the loners of the 'pack' or don't wish to be involved with subjects regarding their alternate forms. A small few of that group 'mate' with just humans.
Reluctance to mate with other werewolves may be a result of the afflicted living in denial of their change, or equally, owing to a desire not to pass their 'curse' onto a beloved.
Torchwood House
Page 5 of 35
Jack flipped over the next page, but immediately saw it'd been torn. A great diagonal rip/tear ran up the base of the page and off to the right. A dark odorless fluid had spattered across the text but whether it was coffee or mud or even blood he had no way of telling. The heading,
The Werewolf Report Part 55 Ianto Jones
2008
, was barely intact.
The Captain squinted at the neat letters blurred below. He could see documentations of months and the cycles of the moons relating to werewolves (harvest, blood and others he'd never heard of, the words 'sugar moon' and 'frequent recreational sex' and 'killings' taking his interest) and silently raised an impressed eyebrow. If the report hadn't appeared so weather-worn he'd have suspected the doctor had damaged these herself. Jack could see traces of Ianto's cooled intellect and couldn't see why the pushy blonde was so up-in-arms. By all accounts this report seemed sound, even if it was lacking a good thirty pages at least.
Maybe she was here to force the rest of out the Welshman?
The report was something that Jack could see Ianto writing. His Ianto maybe, but not the Ianto that had worked at the Tower when everything in his life seemed to be going so well, his job, Lisa. He could imagine his Ianto sitting in the depths of the archives or curled up in the corner of his couch, ink spattered hands and hair ruffled, leaning over files and folder. It was an image that made Jack smile.
And while he could not deny that the report had the same feeling of past reports that Ianto had written and while he wouldn't shy away from such topics, Jack just couldn't accept that Ianto would do something like this without saying something.
In his mind Jack admitted he thought Ianto could have written this, but a name and a feeling wasn't much proof.
"You're telling me that you want me to call Ianto in on his day off just to talk about a report that he may have written and all the proof you have is this cover and two pages of a report. Is that that you're saying?" Jack asked, slouching confidently back in his chair.
"You just confirmed that the Ianto Jones who wrote this report is the same Ianto Jones who works for you. I order you, Captain, to call him in right now." Doctor Hill insisted, glaring down at him.
Jack turned his chair, "What aren't you telling me?" he asked the Brigadier, who looked up from his hands.
The Brigadier sighed, "Ethan Pierce is being transported here."
"Who's Ethan Pierce?" Jack raised an eyebrow ", and why is he being brought here?" Jack asked. That feeling of dread was beginning to rise.
"Ethan Pierce was a werewolf -a very old werewolf- who was captured by Torchwood One just over three years ago, weeks before the battle of Canary Wharf. During the battle he escaped to Scotland, but a few months ago he was seen in Wales. UNIT caught him roaming the west side of the Brecon Beacons national park near Carreg Cennen Castle."
"Why is he being brought here?" Jack repeated through clenched teeth, feeling frustrated that his question was being ignored.
"Torchwood One was going to question him about being a werewolf for the report and then…" The Brigadier trailed off, looking uncomfortable. "...then they were going to execute him for his crimes. Murder, rape, disfiguring and mutilating innocents and corpses as well as turning people into werewolves." Jack felt his mouth go dry, shocked that Ianto was even remotely involved in this at Torchwood One. The Brigadier cleared his throat, drawing Jack's attention back to him.
"As we found Ethan in Wales it was thought that Torchwood Three would be the best place for the questioning and execution. That decision was based on the fact the Mr. Jones works here and he is the only Torchwood One member who isn't dead, in a nursing home or been Retconned." The Brigadier gave a cautious look to the blonde Doctor. "Another factor was that Doctor Hill here feels that he is interfering with her research by carrying on with this report." The Brigadier paused, leaning forwards.
"Jack, UNIT and Torchwood just don't have the money to even think about trying to contain him. And I know you don't execute anyone or anything just because we tell you to, but trust me when I say that he can't be allowed to live. He has killed and ruined so many lives and he will carry on do to so. Even if we held him in some sort of cell he would break free because it won't be strong enough or he won't be watched closely enough. And god only knows how long he will live, I mean, he's been alive for over a hundred years, who the hell would want to waste their life watching him only to be replaced by wave after wave of younger officers to do the same job."
Jack was unimpressed that this whole thing was being lumped on Torchwood. On him. And so what if Ianto's report clashed with the blonde's? She worked for UNIT and Ianto for Torchwood. Ianto's findings was for private eyes only and hers for UNIT and Torchwood eyes. Looking at the impatient blonde doctor and a worried looking Martha, Jack stared into the Brigadier's eyes.
"So what you're telling me is that you are having a disturbed man transported here just so she," Jack thumbed towards Doctor Hill, "can question him?" The Captain felt his eyebrows rise in distaste, ", and then what?"
Jack looking from person to person interrogatingly.
"You're going to execute him, Doctor? You Alistair? What about you Martha? Or are you going to give the honor to me? And why the hell should I phone Ianto and tell him to come in just so you can interrogate him about a report that you don't have the whole of?" Jack stood up, leaning on his desk, looking down that the three of them.
"Don't make this more difficult than it has to be, Jack. We just want to talk to him before Ethan gets here." Martha said, leaning her palms on Jack's desk, looking him straight in the eye.
"What do you have to say about this, Alistair?" Jack looked at the now quiet Brigadier who had inched to the edge of the sofa and was looking at him with a tired helplessness.
"Jack, I'm just here to observe these two young ladies during this investigation and the execution of Ethan." The man lowered his voice to something gentler. "I'd also like to talk with Mr. Jones again." The Brigadier said softly.
Sighing, Jack tilted his head down towards his desk, not truly looking at it. Instead, he was looking fondly at the group photo which was barely new on his desk. A kooky snapshot of all five of them, squished on the sofa behind Tosh's desk.
Ianto was sat on his lap, his own arms that were bare to the bicep with the rolled-up sleeves of his shirt wrapped around the thin waist. His suave grin and Ianto's kind smile weren't aimed at the camera, but each other in a private little encounter. Tosh leaned at his other side with Owen's arm around her. She was blushing and trying to hide her small smile with her hair. Owen wasn't paying any attention to the camera, something embarrassingly coy mixing with his usual nonchalance as the snapping lens caught him glancing nervously at Tosh. And there at the end was Gwen, the only one who was looking straight at the camera, scrunching her face comically and flashing the gap in her teeth and fluttering her brown eyes at it, truly happy to be there.
It'd been Ianto -in his own adorably morbid way- that had spurned him wanting a keepsake of their abnormal 'family', saying 'It's a rare treasure the five of us together, Sir. Too bad it won't stay that way forever.'.
Jack sighed. 'How many times am I going to do that today?' "I'll call Ianto, but you are going to tell my team everything that you just told me while we wait. Then the eight of us are going to talk about this bloody report and what is going to happen with Ethan Pierce. And no, Doctor Hill, you, nor Martha gets a say in this if you want Ianto Jones here." Jack glared at the young woman before looking from one to the other, "Do you understand?"
"We understand perfectly, Jack." Jack caught a glimpse of the tight 'Got my own way' smile from the blonde as she turned to look at the Brigadier. "Martha, why don't you lead us up to the boardroom while Jack talks with his team?"
The Brigadier stood from the sofa and opened the door, holding it -seemingly mostly out of duty- for Martha and Doctor Hill. After the girls slipped past he turned back to Jack, "I'm sorry about Doctor Hill and Doctor Jones. You know how young officers want to show that they're the best even if they are being out of line." Alistair gave a small smile before he too slipped through the door, closing it behind him.
Slowly sitting down, Jack rubbed his hands frustratingly over his face. 'Fuckaty fuck fuck.' Reaching over, Jack moved the mouse of his computer. There on the screen was what was left of Ianto's file. After the battle of Canary Wharf there was very little of it left. Ianto had filled in as much as he could -or as little as he could get away with- name, date of birth, address, school grades, family, past jobs and medical notes. There was nothing even hinting at any of the things that had been said, no report, Ethan or anything Werewolf related. Closing the file, he jumped from his seat and marched out the door, signaling to Tosh and Gwen to follow him into Owen's lair.
"What are they doing here? And why are you three coming down here?" Owen asked, looking up from his gameboy.
"They want to talk to Ianto-"
"What's he done to make UNIT come all the way here just to talk to him?" Owen asked, hopping off the autopsy table to stand next to Tosh, gameboy forgotten.
Jack frowned, his expression tight, closed off.
"Something about a report that he apparently wrote about werewolves when he was at Torchwood One. Doctor Hill thinks that he is interfering with the research she is doing now." Jack's voice was lowered. Gwen was watching the three officers as they sat waiting. Tosh's face was tight with worry about UNIT's presence, but Jack could see in her eyes that she was relieved that it had nothing to do with her. Owen looked petulant at not knowing what the hell was going on. "I want you three to go up there and listen to what they have to say." Jack's body was tense, knowing that the reaction to the next piece of news wouldn't be good.
"In a few hours one Ethan Pierce is going to be arriving here. UNIT are going to be questioning him and then… then he is going to be executed." Jack warily mouthed that last sentence, knowing it would only give him a few seconds before-
"WHAT!?! No! Jack, we don't just execute people! We lock them up or we try and take them back were they came from!" Gwen shrieked pushing forwards, she pulled on his braces.
Grabbing her wrists, Jack pulled her hands off of him sternly. "Gwen, the people that we try and help haven't killed hundreds of people or mauled children for fun. That's what this man has done for the last hundred years." Jack gently shook the Welshwoman.
Letting her go, he headed back up the stairs, once at the top he turned back, "Now please go listen to them while I go see if I can persuade Ianto into coming in." Going back into his office, Jack sat down and picked up his phone, dialing the familiar number. In the past he had dialed and dialed repeatedly only to hang up before the other had the chance to answer, realizing with embarrassment that he had nothing to say. No asking if he was allowed around, no meaningless chit-chat, not even an emergency to use as an excuse to call him. That'd neverhappened to him before.
Ring-ring, ring-ring, ri-
"Hello, Ianto Jones speaking."
oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo
Ianto had pulled on a pair of ratty old jeans and a red holey t-shirt. The only part of the outfit he wore still in one piece being a pair of knee-high rainbow striped socks.
They'd been a gag-gift from Tosh last Christmas. Only a few months had passed since then and already he was down to them, his last clean pair, Ianto mused. He hadn't had the time for laundry lately.
Lifting a knee, he regarded the footwear with a humoring cringe, thinking how he looked like the Wicked Witch of the West beneath the piano.
Retreating to the kitchen, Ianto was drying his last plate, glowing with happiness at finishing sorting a month's supply of laundry, when he heard the phone ringing. Looking through the kitchen door into the sitting room, he put the plate down on the marble counter. Walking quizzically over to the sofa, he picked up the phone and, pushing the answer button; he pressed it to his ear.
"Hello, Ianto Jones speaking." He said into the phone, sitting down, absentmindedly pulling loose fluff from his top. He didn't have the time to deal with anything that wasn't on his list for the day.
"Ianto… Ianto you have to come in."
Ianto was floored with disbelief.
He knew that this would happen one day. He just thought he would be better prepared for when it did. Maybe, just maybe, he could get out of this.
"Jack… Jack it's my first day off and I have plan-"
Jack butted in, not giving Ianto a chance to continue, his tone rushed and apologetic, "I know that and normally I wouldn't call you in, but UNIT is here and Ethan Pierce is being brought in later this afternoon. And-"
Jack's voice faded into white noise. Ianto felt like his world had stopped. 'Ethan Pierce…' "UNIT and Ethan?..." Ianto could barely say that name. He was beginning to feel sick.
Ianto swallowed down his fears, hardening, letting his anger take over. "I'll be there as fast as I can."
"Ian-" Ianto cut Jack off, anxiously chucking the phone back on to the sofa. He ran out the door and down the corridor towards his bedroom. He banged into the door, causing it to crash into the wall, a terrified sob caught in his throat. Throwing himself on to the floor next to his bed he pulled out a small navy blue cash box, opening it resolutely. There sitting on the bottom was a H&K USP Match.[1]
Picking it up, he stood straight, the cold metal heavy in his hand. He checked to see if it was fully loaded -it was- and that it had the safety on. He pushed it into the back of his trousers and hid it with his t-shirt. Leaning over the bed he grabbed a black zip-up hoody and headed out to the front door, pulling it on was he went.
Stopping, he slipped on old black suede shoes and yanking his keys off the hook. Ianto struggled to open the door as he felt the panic inside of him rising. Taking a deep breath, he calmly undid the three door chain and turned the two deadbolts.
Slamming the door shut, he locked it and jogged along the corridor and down the stairs. Coming out of the converted flats he set off at a run down the street. He didn't live that far away from the hub, but Ianto hoped that the time it took him to get to the hub he'd have calmed down enough that Jack or anyone else wouldn't notice that he was freaking out.
[1] - I "borrowed" the gun from Underworld (Film)