Ianto hung up the phone abruptly, telling Owen he'd call him back when he could. When it immediately rang again, he silenced it and tossed it on a nearby chair. Taking off his jacket, he began to pace the two-room suite, running a shaky hand through his hair as he tried to calm his racing, panicked thoughts and figure out what to do next.
Jack was dead.
He tried to tell himself it was okay. He had seen Jack die from a gunshot wound to the head and wake up gasping for life. He had watched Jack lie in the morgue, cold as ice, until days later he had reappeared, as alive as the rest of them. And he knew Jack had died during his time away with the Doctor, when he'd been held captive on board the Valiant.
But Ianto hadn't seen Jack die since then. He'd never been right there holding his hand, never experienced it so personally, so suddenly, and so alone since Jack had come back and had asked him on a date. Now Jack was lying on the bed, eyes closed and lips already turning blue. He wasn't breathing, wasn't moving, wasn't there.
He was dead.
Ianto kicked at a chair, knocking it over and then swearing in bad Welsh when his foot started throbbing. What the hell was he supposed to do now? Just sit back and wait for Jack to come back to life? What about in the meantime? Make him comfortable? Was he hungry when he woke up? Thirsty? Tired?
Once again Ianto was overwhelmed by just how much he really didn't know about the man lying before him. Jack had been gone for months, but had come back a changed person, a man who had wanted more from Ianto than just the casual lonely-nights-at-the-Hub sex it had been until Jack had run off with his Doctor. He wanted dates—dinner and movies and late nights talking, shopping and cooking and of course, more sex. Even better sex, actually.
And it was good. It had taken several weeks for them to build that trust again—the attraction between them was never the problem—yet slowly but surely they had fallen into…well, a pattern. Maybe even a relationship, of some sort. Ianto wasn't sure what it was and wasn't sure if he'd ever know, given it was Jack. Jack Harkness was immortal; he had lived so many lives over the years that sometimes Ianto wondered if Jack ever really committed to anyone anymore, after losing so many people. Ianto was more afraid of losing Jack so soon after losing Lisa, even though he knew Jack couldn't die; rather, Ianto would grow old, and Jack would leave him again one day, continuing his immortal life with other lovers.
That was, if he came back this time. Ianto had no idea what had happened, what kind of poison had taken him down so quickly or how long it would take him to recover. Glancing at Jack, Ianto realized he needed to know more about the situation; he needed to do something, or he would go crazy just thinking and waiting. There was work to do—always work, including staying alive until Jack revived.
He arranged Jack as neatly as he could on the bed, taking off Jack's coat and shoes and even placing a blanket over him to keep his cooling body warm. Ianto poured himself a drink from the wet bar—a double, since it was Jack's account and still Ianto's birthday—then he took out his laptop, pulled up a chair at the foot the bed, and called Owen back.
"Tell me what the hell's going on, Ianto," Owen said without greeting. Ianto took a deep breath as he held the phone under his chin and logged into the hotel wi-fi, securing his connection so he could get onto the Torchwood servers remotely.
"We came to London," he began, then Owen interrupted him.
"Hang on, I'm putting you on speaker now the gang's all here."
"Ianto!" He heard Gwen's voice call. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine—almost got killed, but that's Torchwood for you. Follows you everywhere, I suppose." He laughed nervously, feeling slightly out of character, and took a deep sip of his drink, the whiskey burning his throat. He needed to be more in control, and he would, in time, but the truth was that he was completely freaked out at the moment. Maybe talking it out would help.
"All right, Jones. Start over."
"Jack and I came to London, to Canary Wharf. Or rather, I came and he invited himself along." Ianto wasn't sure why he added that last bit, even though it was partially true. He just wasn't ready for the others to get the wrong idea about him and Jack…or the right idea, depending. "We met a woman there who told us that someone was killing all the other survivors. She warned us about it, then told us to run."
"Did you?" asked Tosh. It was so good to hear her voice, Ianto finally started to relax. "Run?"
"We did. There appeared to be several suspicious suits around. Unfortunately they followed and trapped us between them. Their leader—at least, the first man we encountered and the only one who spoke—had a dart gun of some sort. Never seen it before, my guess is it was alien tech."
"And he shot Jack." That was Gwen again.
"He was aiming for me," said Ianto. "I'm the survivor. He said they were cleaning up."
"Cleaning up what?" asked Tosh, and Ianto shook his head in frustration even though he knew perfectly well they couldn't see him.
"I don't know. The other survivors. The woman was also from Torchwood, and she said more than half the survivors are dead now. It's only been a year. That's not a coincidence."
"Tosh, can you—" started Owen, but Tosh interrupted him.
"Already on it. I'll pull up all the survivor records and cross reference them with police records from the past year."
"Thanks Tosh," said Ianto. "I'm online, send them to me when you've got something. The woman we met was named Fiona. I remember her, she had just started with Lisa when…well, when." He left it off at that.
"Ianto, where's Jack?" asked Gwen. "Owen said he was hit. Is he all right?"
"Well, not exactly," said Ianto, glancing at Jack, who still hadn't moved. "He's dead, actually. It was some kind of fast acting poison dart. We barely made it to a hotel. Jack wouldn't go to the A&E. I suppose his condition makes it a bit complicated."
"His condition?" asked Tosh, clicking away on her computer.
"The coming back from the dead condition, remember?" answered Owen. "Bit hard to explain that to the NHS, don't you think?"
"Right. Ianto, so far I've found as least half a dozen recent deaths among the survivors," said Tosh, sending him some encrypted files. It only took him moments to open them and scan the contents.
"So it's true," Ianto murmured. "Bloody hell, it's true."
"All right, we need to get to the bottom of this," said Gwen. "We can't have you walking around London with a target on your back."
"I'm not going anywhere until Jack wakes up."
"That's right," said Owen, his voice both gentle and strict. "Just stay right where you are. We'll do some more research over here and keep you updated. Meanwhile, you need to keep yourself safe if someone's after you. You've got your gun, right?"
"Of course I do."
"Good. They might come after you again to finish the job. Use it if you have to."
"I already did. I hit the man who shot Jack. Probably why he didn't get off a second shot." Ianto shuddered to think what might have happened if the dart had hit him. He'd be dead at Jack's side…with no chance of waking up.
"Good shot, then," said Owen. "I'd say we could check hospital records to see if anyone matching his description comes in, but—"
"—but men like him don't go to hospitals," finished Ianto. "This was definitely not an every day mugging. It was covert, as if they were just waiting for us."
"Did anyone know you were going to London, Ianto?" asked Gwen.
"Just Tosh." There was silence on the other end of the line before he could hear Tosh talking to Owen and Gwen.
"What?" she said. "He emailed me about it just yesterday." There was a pause. "Do you think they hacked our system?" she suddenly asked.
"Either that, or they just wait at Canary Wharf for survivors to show up," Ianto replied. "Can you look into it?"
"If anyone was reading my email, a dozen alerts should have gone off," Tosh replied, sounding angry. "If there's a hole, I'll find it."
"Thanks, Tosh." Ianto paused to take another drink. "What I don't get is the gun, why alien tech, why—"
"Why poison?" finished Owen. "That's just damn odd when they could use a bullet."
"Less to cover up if it looks like I just died from a stroke or something," Ianto murmured, thinking of the many times he'd had to cover up a suspicious death.
"Well, I really wish you had an anti-toxin kit with you."
"I didn't want my mechanic wondering why I had all sorts of alien drugs in the boot of my car last time I took it in," Ianto snapped, wishing the same thing. "So I'm sorry, but there's nothing I can do unless you can recommend something at the local pharmacy."
"Just don't get shot, mate."
"Sod off."
"All right, settle down," said Gwen. "Ianto, I know you're upset, but it'll be all right. Owen, is there anything Ianto can do to counteract the poison if he is hit?"
"Without knowing what it is, there's nothing I can recommend, no. Unless Jack sucks it out like a snakebite."
Ianto let out a nervous bark. "Right. Not going to happen. I'm not letting him go through that again. He's got only a tiny puncture wound in his shoulder, but whatever it was, it started to paralyze him almost immediately. He was gone in less than twenty minutes."
He could almost hear Owen thinking over the mobile. "Seriously, Ianto. Be careful. Lock the door, don't open it for anyone, and stay away from windows. If these guys are taking out survivors and missed you, they'll be back, and probably with something stronger than a dart gun."
"Don't you think I know that?" Ianto grumbled, finishing his drink in one last pull. "But I can't stay holed up here forever."
"What hotel are you at?" asked Gwen. "We could come and get you."
Ianto almost rolled his eyes. "Gwen, anyone could be listening, although I'm sure it'd be easy enough to track us through Jack or the CCTV." The thought sent a rush of panic through him, and he stood to double-check the deadbolt.
"If they're listening, they can certainly trace the signal," said Tosh. He could hear her still clicking away at her computer. "Which is why I scrambled it as soon as Owen put it on speakerphone. I'll get on to the CCTV footage."
"Thank you, Tosh." Ianto sighed. Like him, she thought of the details. "So, have you found anything else?"
"Yes, it's almost half the survivors, just like you said. All have died within the last six months. I'm actually surprised the computer didn't pick it up and flag it for us."
Ianto thought about it. "Maybe it was tampered with," he said, a black thought starting in the back of his mind. "If someone got a hold of our email…" he trailed off.
"The only people who could tamper with records and software like that would be UNIT or…" Now it was Tosh's turn to leave her sentence unfinished.
"Torchwood," finished Ianto.
"You think one of us is going around killing the survivors of Canary Wharf?" asked Owen, sounded disgusted.
"No, you muppet," said Gwen, and Ianto could almost imagine her punching Owen's arm. "One of the other survivors."
"They'd have the experience and knowledge, not to mention the security codes," said Ianto. "I'd hate to think so, but we have to assume it's possible. Especially since that dart gun did not look familiar. It could be UNIT, or someone could have knicked it from Torchwood One."
"Well, to find a killer, you need a motive." Gwen went into police mode, which was probably what they needed. "So why would someone try to kill you?"
"I heard someone was upset I didn't make the coffee this morning," Ianto murmured, and Owen snorted on the other end of the line.
"And you are forgiven as long as you get back here alive and make it up to me."
"Right." Ianto sat down and stared at his laptop, at a loss. "Tosh, keep sending everything you have on the other survivors. I'll go through it and see if I can't find anything. I was there, after all. I may not have known them all, but I might see something, some connection no one else can."
"Right. I'm trying to pull up footage of the attack, but it looks like someone else got to it first."
"Which means we're definitely dealing with someone who knows what they're doing," said Ianto, his heart sinking.
"Someone good," Tosh agreed, "but we're better, don't worry." There was a pause. "How are you holding up? Is Jack awake yet?"
Ianto glanced at Jack. "No, not yet, and I'm fine. I want to get started on these files, though. Thanks for taking care of things. I'll call you back after I've gone through them."
"Hang in there, Jones," said Owen, once again surprising Ianto with his compassion. "Jack'll wake up, and we'll figure out who's trying to kill you before they do."
"Yeah, Owen can't live without your coffee, so he's all over it," added Gwen. Ianto could almost picture the supportive smile on her face, and Owen rolling his eyes this time.
"Thanks," Ianto replied, knowing they were trying to make him feel better. "I'll get back to you soon."
"Be careful," said Gwen, genuine concern in her voice.
"I will. Bye."
Ianto hung up the mobile and set down his laptop. He checked on Jack, but there was no change, so he went to the loo, washed his face in a useless attempt to do something to make himself feel less stressed, and sat back down, pulling out a snack and picking up the laptop as he waited for Jack to revive.
Yet one file in, and he couldn't concentrate, and he wasn't really hungry. Jack was lying next to him on the bed, dead. Dead. Bloody hell, he was sleeping with a dead man. Yet Jack also a man who couldn't actually die. If it wasn't so insane, Ianto thought he could cry. But he'd seen some strange things at Torchwood, and right then all he could do was laugh, albeit slightly hysterically given he was on the run from dangerous assassins with alien tech in a posh hotel with a dead body.
He decided he needed to just lie down. The emotional rollercoaster of seeing Canary Wharf again, of telling Jack his story, combined with the adrenaline high of the past hour had left him feeling drained, so he closed his laptop and got onto the bed with Jack. He didn't feel as cold, or perhaps that was just the blanket. Propping himself up against several pillows, Ianto gently pulled Jack up between his legs, laying Jack's head on his chest and wrapping his arms around the man's broad shoulders. He let his own head fall back as he sat there, but refused to let the tears fall.
Jack would come back. It was what he did. Ianto had to trust that, and then he'd have to figure out what the hell to do about the men trying to kill him before they actually managed it.
He'd almost started to doze off when suddenly Jack gasped, jerked in his arms, and struggled to sit up. Ianto loosened his embrace to let the man have space, but Jack grabbed him and clung to him instead, so that Ianto wrapped his arms around Jack once more, feeling Jack's heart race under his hands.
"It's all right, you're all right," Ianto babbled senselessly. "You're back, you're alive…Jesus, Jack, you're actually alive…" He couldn't go on and willed the tears pricking at his eyes not to fall. He had to be strong for Jack; he could only imagine how hard it was to die and come back to life, and he would not let Jack see how much it scared him.
"Ianto?" Jack finally asked, though he did not turn around. "Are you all right? They didn't hurt you, did they?"
"I'm fine," Ianto soothed. "Thanks to you." It suddenly occurred to him that Jack had saved his life knowing full well that nothing would hurt him. The thought made Ianto slightly sick, that Jack could throw himself in front of just about anything to save Ianto and wake up a few hours later hardly the worse for wear.
"What happened after I fell?" asked Jack, interrupting his thoughts. "It's all a bit fuzzy."
"Well, I hit the man with the fancy gun before he could take another shot. He ran off, although it was probably because you'd taken down his other goons so fast you scared the shit out of him." Jack breathed in a silent laugh.
"Where are we again?" he asked, slowly sitting up and turning to face Ianto. He glanced around the spacious rooms. "Oh. The Four Seasons." And then he grinned, just like Jack again. "King size bed. Nice."
"You asked for the suite," Ianto laughed, relief flooding through him as he gazed into Jack's eyes, saw the color returning to his pale face. "And I have to admit I did open the wet bar."
"Yeah, well, go ahead. I'm not used to so much space, so I take advantage of it when I can." He suddenly leaned in and kissed Ianto, long and hard, and Ianto let himself sink into it, too relieved that Jack was alive to care that there was still someone out there trying to kill him, someone they had to find and stop before even more people died.
"Thank you," Jack finally said, pulling away. "For getting me out of there, for staying with me."
Ianto didn't know what to say. He ran his hand through Jack's hair and felt the tears prickle at his eyes again, though he still held them in. "I'm just glad you came back," he murmured.
"I always do," Jack said. "And I always will. Especially if I wake up in your arms." And to Ianto's surprise, Jack turned around and snuggled back down against him with a content but weary sigh. Ianto smiled to himself.
"Is it tiring, coming back?" he asked, idly rubbing Jack's arms as he held him. He felt Jack nod against him.
"Depends on what happened. Sometimes it takes longer, sometimes it doesn't. Sometimes I'm up and ready, others I stumble around a bit. Poison…yeah, poison is not fun. But I'll be all right."
"Do you know what kind of poison it was?" Ianto asked. "I talked to Owen, but without any real information, he couldn't tell me anything other than to not get shot."
"Good advice," laughed Jack. "It felt alien, though, and that dart gun was not earth technology."
"No, I didn't think so either," agreed Ianto, dreading what that meant. Not many people on the planet had access to extraterrestrial technology, so their suspect list had definitely been narrowed.
Jack was silent. "How long was I out?" he asked softly.
Ianto glanced at the clock. "A few hours. I should probably call the Hub and let them know you're awake."
"So you told them where we were, what was going on?" Jack glanced up at him.
"Of course I did. They're on it already."
"On what?" Jack asked.
"Trying to figure out who did this."
"Right." There was another pause. "And why. I just can't figure out why anyone would want twenty-seven innocent survivors of Canary Wharf dead."
"Me neither," replied Ianto. "Tosh sent me files on all of them, along with the police reports of all those who have died. I tried to go through them, but didn't get far. Been a long day already."
Jack sighed as he sat up. "Tell me about it. Well, let's do some reading, then. Maybe get some room service? I'm starving."
Ianto nodded as he reached over for the phone. "Sounds good. Exactly how I wanted to spend my birthday, trying to figure out who wants to kill me with alien blow darts."
Jack patted his knee. "Could be worse."
"How's that then?" Ianto asked. Really, he could think of far worse things, had experienced them tenfold. He was just curious what Jack would say.
A grin crept across Jack's face. "Could be evil flying monkeys in vests on Boxing Day."
Which didn't make any sense at all, and Ianto laughed as some of the tension left him, glad that Jack was there with him after all.
Author's Note:
I don't usually post such quick updates, but there seemed to be some confusion after the last chapter so I thought I'd follow up on it quickly. This story is set during season two, so yes, everyone knows about Jack's resurrection ability. In my mind, that doesn't mean they wouldn't try to help him anyway, or be concerned. I'm sure it's still very new to them all. So I hope this clears it up. I liked writing this chapter, so I also hoped you enjoyed the update!