Torchwood: Divergence
Book One: Dychwelyd
Chapter 55
Jack slumped slightly where they sat cuddled up together, and gave a slight groan of annoyance when he remembered that they had unfinished business down in the Lab.
"It's too dangerous to keep here in the Vaults," he sighed, reluctantly stirring with the intention of rising. "And there isn't exactly an alien zoo we can send it to... not yet anyway. I don't know if cryo would work on it, and there's no real point if there's never a way to send it home or make it safe."
"Was the second analysis complete enough to indicate a substance that could kill it?" Ianto wondered, trying to get up as well, but finding himself too shaky still to manage it. "Something quick if not entirely painless so it doesn't suffer too much?"
"I think I can figure something out," the American reassured with a frown. "I don't like just killing aliens that come through the Rift, they can't help that they end up here. But this thing... it's way too dangerous, Maws times ten, and we really don't have any way to safely contain it."
"Gimme a minute," his Archivist murmured from his place on the bed, taking a deep breath. "I'll come help."
"Poison's hard to come back from," Jack stated sympathetically, offering a steadying hand as he stood up and prepared to go take care of the venomous little beast. "Just rest a while. I'll deal with Squishy."
"No," Ianto insisted, slowly but surely working his way to the edge of the mattress and sliding his legs off so he could carefully stand up. "I know this kind of thing bothers you, no matter how good you've gotten at hiding it. You named it for pity's sake. I won't let you do the hard bit alone."
"I think those angel wings are giving you delusions of Saint-hood," the Captain complained, but his eyes showed how much he appreciated the offer of support.
"They're silver crow's wings, thank you very much," his partner countered, checking his own balance before attempting to move. "With a touch of owl, a healthy splash of red kite, and a whisper of swan to buffer all the predator DNA. And Saints are only the result of popularity contests to win a VIP pass in Heaven. Which doesn't really exist anyhow, at least not the way everyone imagines, so there's hardly a point. Besides, I've already been to Hell, so I don't think the theoretical other side's likely to want me. Plus, my reasons in this are purely selfish, I assure you. I want to be close, so I can console you with a kiss."
"Touché," Jack chuckled.
"That too," Jones murmured with a slight smile, accepting the older man's helpful arm around his waist.
They made their way down into the Autopsy Lab once more, to find the cause of their recent troubles trying to climb the wall of its habitat to get to the lid. Harkness left the younger immortal by the computer to start looking for lethal agents, then stepped over to pick up the one by two foot but surprisingly light weight cylindrical glass and metal container the alien was in and give it a vigorous shake before turning off the air recycler. The creature spiked out to look like a pile of damp kelp again, obviously alarmed. The Captain smirked, heading back over to where Ianto was sifting through the information from the second analysis of the alien. The Changeling was cross referencing the creature's basic chemical makeup with available materials that could destroy or break down the components. He compiled and discarded several possibilities, concentrating on the monitor hard enough that he didn't realise he was beginning to lean to one side until his hands started shaking so badly that he couldn't type.
"Easy now, I've got you," Jack was there to support the young Welshman, steadied him until he could briefly step away to grab the wheeled, chair-backed stool Martha often used in the Lab. "Sit down and just breathe for a few minutes, yeah? I told you poison'll knock you for six. Now, what were you trying to check?"
"Science Fair volcano," the unsteady Archivist stated, smiling wearily when his partner gave him a blank look. "Bicarbonate powder and vinegar with a bit of salt, causes a chemical reaction that makes quite an impressive mess. All three have pinged as possibilities, so I was curious if combining them would do the trick."
"Let's run a simulation and find out," Harkness suggested, taking over the keyboard. "Okay, take the water into consideration and... ouch, death by volcano. I think we have a winner. Question is, how do we get it into the habitat without Squishy escaping or managing to envenomate one of us?"
"Shake it hard so it tries to hide," Ianto shrugged wearily. "Pop the top, one of us dumps in the dry materials, the other adds the vinegar, we slap the lid back on tight and let Vesuvius erupt."
"Sounds like a plan," the Captain acknowledged evenly. "Do we have this stuff here at the Hub or will I need to find an all-night convenience store?"
"Small storage room past the broom cupboard," his Welshman half-smiled. "Row two, shelf four, centre, in alphabetical order with the other items for the kitchenette. I'd say pull two tubs of bicarb, a full gallon of white vinegar, and a box of salt."
"Is there anything you don't keep on hand and know the exact location of?" Harkness asked with an arched brow.
"Not if I can help it," Ianto stated with a slight huff of laughter.
"Well, you sit and rest up a bit," Jack urged, briefly rubbing the Scieron Guardian's shoulders. "I'll go get what we need, hunt up some wide mouthed beakers or the like to put the stuff in so it's easier to pour all at once, and then we'll deal with Squishy."
The American disappeared out of the Autopsy Lab, and Ianto rolled his seat over a couple of inches to the side so he could lay one arm along the edge of the exam table and put his head down on it for a few seconds. He closed his eyes, able to tell the Shadows inside him were still working to repair the remaining damage from the alien's venom by how much heat he continued to radiate. Jack was right, poison was the absolute worst. The Scieron had worked through him to neutralise the substance and bring him back to life, but it had been an unpleasantly long process, leaving him feeling strangely sore and stiff deep inside. The twenty-six-year-old wondered if the stuff was a neurotoxin, hemotoxin, or both... probably the latter. Venom designed to paralyse and completely incapacitate as it slowly killed the prey, even as it began breaking down the vascular walls, organs and soft tissues so it would be a nice sealed container of warm soup when Squishy latched all its nasty little mouths onto it to feed. Likely the only reason it had taken as long as it did to bring him down, was because it was a shallow cut, he was probably bigger that its normal fare, and the Shadows in his cells had already been trying to fight it.
"You doing okay?" Jack's voice called worriedly from the Lab's stairs.
"Bed is sounding awfully nice," Ianto admitted, opening his eyes and levering himself upright on his seat once more. "But we need to get that little menace taken care of first."
Harkness nodded, bringing his armload of supplies down to sit on the exam table before hunting the counters, cupboards and drawers for pour-friendly containers. In the end he chose two good sized autopsy pans with one edge formed into a wide, sloped lip for controlled liquid disposal. The vinegar went into one, the salt and bicarbonate were mixed in the other, then he placed each on the counter a small space to either side of the habitat. Ianto joined him, a trifle shaky, but determined to get the job done. Squishy egged them on, flopping portions of its gooey mass against the glass and scraping its multitudes of needle fine lamprey-like teeth against the surface. Jack shook the habitat hard, bouncing the alien from end to end a few times with jarring force. It huddled in its leafy form in the water at the bottom when he sat the container down, too disoriented to make an escape attempt when Ianto popped off the lid. The young Welshman dumped in the dry goods, his partner poured in the vinegar and the top of the habitat was slammed back down and locked.
The chemical reaction between the introduced materials was instantaneous, the substance bubbling, frothing, and expanding. The alien trapped with it changed from its kelp-like form to the gelatinous blob and back a couple of times, tried to slap its way through the glass without success, then began to fizz and dissolve like a slug covered in salt. In the space of thirty seconds, Squishy had been reduced to a few oily looking greenish patches in the still gently foaming vinegar solution. Then even those were nothing but a faint murk in the liquid.
"Okay," Harkness breathed, his expression grim. "I'm going to call UNIT for a bio-hazard disposal, take the remains up to the TIC and let them pick it up. You need to crawl under the covers for the night."
Ianto had gone back to the stool and computer when the habitat had gotten slammed closed, and now looked up to meet the older man's unhappy gaze.
"UNIT's on its way, should be here in ten minutes now that they have a crew on stand-by at the Precinct," he stated quietly, closing down the computer. "And I'll wait for you on the couch. I'm not going to bed without you, especially after this."
Jack's expression softened and he came to kiss his poor exhausted Welshman on the lips then the forehead.
"Let me get you to the couch then," he murmured gently, helping his lover up from his seat and heading him toward the stairs out of the medical area. "Then I'll chuck the habitat into a heavy-duty trash bag and take it upstairs."
"Bin liners are in the broom cupboard," Jones supplied helpfully, gratefully settling to the cushions when they made it to the couch. "Be careful that thing doesn't slosh on the way up. UNIT's bringing a special container for it."
"I'll worry about Squishy soup, you lean back and relax," the Captain stated firmly, going to the nook with the brooms, mop, vacuum, and other cleaning supplies before returning to the medical bay with a heavy black plastic bag in hand. "I'll be back shortly to tuck you in."
The cog-wheel door rotated open a few minutes later, but Ianto had closed his eyes. When he opened them again it was to see his partner reaching for him with panic clearly written on his face.
"Jack?" the young Changeling whispered, his throat scratchy and slightly sore, just like his insides still felt.
The former Time Agent didn't reply, he simply sat down to pull the eternal twenty-six-year-old into a tight embrace and held him.
"It didn't look like you were breathing," Harkness finally explained, his voice less than steady. "God, you're still burning up. That venom must have really run roughshod through your system. Come on, bedtime."
"Which means," Ianto breathed, struggling to rise when his companion released him. "Cruel as it may have been, destroying that alien was the right thing to do. I feel bruised all over, even inside... which is probably why the Scieron cells are still so active."
"Your knees go weak one more time and I'm carrying you," the Captain warned, his concern obvious.
"Incredibly romantic," Jones half smiled, even as his balance wobbled again. "If I didn't feel like total shit, that is."
"We'll worry about the romance part when your temperature is back to normal," Jack promised, shifting to scoop his partner up into his arms for the second time in as many hours and stride toward the office, still finding the Welshman's extreme weight change disturbing. "It's going on 3:00 am, tonight's been both amazing and gut wrenching, and I say Torchwood is closed till morning. Whatever decides to drop out of the Rift between now and when the team gets in, will just have to wait."
Inside the bedroom, he got them both undressed and under the covers, cuddled close with his beloved Changeling and sighed. Ianto stirred beside him, shakily levering himself up enough to give Jack a good solid kiss. Then he snuggled back down and relaxed.
"'Always kiss me goodnight'," Harkness whispered, quoting a phrase he'd heard and read often but couldn't place the origin of.
"Yes, sir..." Ianto breathed wearily; glad to be safe and warm in his partner's arms after all the ugliness of the last few hours.
He didn't see the smile that appeared on his Captain's face, but he heard the immortal's contented sigh and that was all that mattered.
Quiet claimed the small room as the pair relaxed, another unpleasant but successful mission accomplished. Time ticked away, the world turned, and Torchwood was ready… for some well-deserved sleep.
End Book One
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AN: So, there you have it. A wee bit of fluff to end Book One… I hope you've enjoyed the ride.
Book Two will start posting for Ianto's birthday in August.
Thank you to those reading the story. And thank you to those who have followed, favourited, and reviewed. NM