Torchwood: Divergence
Book Three: Rheoleiddiad
Chapter 41
Morning found Gwen and Turlough bustling around the Hub, Lois in the Tourist kiosk upstairs and the rest of the team on their way to University Hospital to see what could be done for the Davies' son. It was going to be a hard day for the family, as they made arrangements for their young daughter's funeral and tried to do what was best for her traumatised brother.
Ianto and Jack were with Martha for the visit. The young Changeling was definitely improved from the day before, but continued to tire easily and was still running a noticeable fever, the wounds on his arm not quite healed enough for the staples to come out. There'd been none of the hoped for "dabbling" the night before, but at least he'd gotten some much needed rest. Even still, he was pale and quiet, hadn't been interested in much more than coffee and a few bites of toast for breakfast, and was having to watch his breathing since he was periodically battling flares of extreme anxiety. There was no way he wouldn't at least try to go see his nephew though, so his partner simply intended to stay close and do whatever was necessary to help the younger immortal make it through the morning.
Johnny Davies met the Torchwood team as they entered the front doors of the big medical building, lead them to the seventh floor and the psychiatric ward. It had been the only area with a private room available the previous evening, but it was obvious he and his wife weren't pleased with the location.
"Let me pop in and do a once over, take a look at his chart," Martha suggested, hoping to find a good reason to have the boy released. "I'll see if they'll let you all use the cot room over by the nurses' station. More places to sit that way, and I'll be over as soon as I've got a treatment plan in mind."
The duty nurse was amazingly accommodating after seeing the young black woman's UNIT identification, and let the two couples into the staff room for a little privacy. Rhiannon moved to hug her brother as soon as they were inside, reached up to touch the thin Y-shaped scar on his right cheek.
"You look better than last night," she said with a slight smile.
"You look tired," Ianto countered, steering her toward one of the cots. "You two should try to get your heads down for a bit while Martha works."
"He's right, Rhi," her husband nodded. "Catch a short nap. I'll take the papers downstairs and be back, yeah?"
"Papers?" Jack queried, noticing the folded forms the man was clutching.
"Release forms for transport," Davies frowned. "Waiver for the funeral home, permission to take Mica's body…"
"There should be a place where you can designate a proxy," Ianto stated with a wince. "Put my name down. Jack and I will go to the morgue, get everything taken care of so you can stay here to rest too."
"You sure?" Johnny prodded, obviously torn between accepting the offer and wanting to see to matters himself. "You don't look so steady still. Don't want you taking this on if you're too sick."
"I'll manage," his brother-in-law reassured. "I've handled this kind of thing before, and you need to be fit to help with David."
Somewhat uncertain, the heavy-set blond nodded nonetheless and unfolded the paperwork to flip through the pages. He found the proxy waiver, filled in the blanks with the pen the nurses had given him earlier and signed it. Then he handed over the whole packet to the twenty-six-year-old nearby. Ianto scanned through the lot quickly to be sure there weren't any missed initials or signatures, pulled a pen from his field jacket's inside breast pocket to write in and otherwise mark his portion, then met the other man's tired gaze.
"We'll go sort this and be back," he promised quietly. "Try to rest while you can."
The two Torchwood agents left the room and headed for the nearest lift. Inside, Ianto put his back into one rear corner, leaning there and trying to drop his breathing to a more normal speed as he started to shake. His partner simply moved a little closer, got a hold of his left hand and quietly encouraged him to relax.
"Are you sure you can do this?" Jack prodded worriedly. "They'll ask you to look at the body for positive ID."
"I know," Ianto whispered, managing to take several deep breaths and let them out slowly as he gratefully squeezed the older man's hand. "Better me than Rhi or Johnny though. I don't want them to see her laid out like that… they need to remember her the way she was when she was alive, and I've already been shown the damage the accident did to her. This is the right thing to do. Just… don't let go, yeah?"
"Not even if the ME is a total hottie, I promise," Harkness reassured with a smile, but his eyes were dark and serious, lending true weight to the otherwise flippant words.
The lift doors chimed open and the younger immortal eased away from the wall, the two exiting and immediately turning left. They both knew exactly where every morgue, funeral home, crematorium, and cemetery was in and a good distance out around Cardiff. Torchwood had to visit them all often enough. When they came to the desk outside them cold rooms, the young Welshman handed over the paperwork to the mid-fifties looking woman on duty, reclaimed his left hand just long enough to produce his recently updated driver's license for inspection.
"Ianto Jones," he stated quietly, his voice forcibly steady. "I'm Rhiannon Davies' brother. I'm acting as proxy for her and her husband in the arrangement to transport their daughter's body to the listed funeral home."
The coroner looked at and returned the ID, flipped through the paperwork, then gazed at the two men as the younger shakily put his wallet away.
"All seems to be in order," she nodded, her expression softening slightly as she adjusted her glasses. "You understand I'll have to have you see the body to be sure it's your niece, don't you?"
"Yes, ma'am," Ianto managed tightly, glad to feel his partner take up his left hand again and twine their fingers together.
The greying redhead at the desk rose and motioned for them to follow.
"You look less than well, young man," she observed as they entered the morgue itself. "Are you sure you're up for this?"
"I've seen bodies before," the Changeling breathed. "I'm just dealing with a recurrent illness. I'll be fine."
"And I'm here if you're not," Jack put in firmly, able to feel the trembling setting into his companion's muscles.
The Medical Examiner nodded again and lead them to a short side of the T-shaped room where she unlatched the square door of the centre compartment in the middle row. She pulled it open, tugged the rolling slab out to reveal the small, red draped figure it held. The woman beckoned the two men closer, then carefully folded back the cover to expose the child's head, and Jack felt his lover's hand tighten convulsively over his own.
Ianto gazed down at his niece's chalk-white face, shakily reached out with his free hand to brush wisps of her dark hair back from her closed eyes, and lightly touch the livid bruises and deep abrasions down one side of her face. Then he leaned over to place a gentle kiss on the eight-year-old's ice-cold forehead, all too aware of the terrible damage the red drape was hiding from her shoulders to her knees.
"I'm so sorry, Mica…" the young Welshman whispered, tears burning his eyes as he thought about the sweet, diminutive girl lost in the Dark beyond Death's Door.
The T3 Archivist straightened and nodded quickly to the ME, trying to take deeper breaths. His Captain pulled him close and put his arms around him, letting him hide his grief against the side of his neck. The coroner covered the little girl's marred face and got the slab back in place, closed the door and relatched it with a clang. Harkness felt the younger man's entire body jerk at the sound, then the hot trickle of the twenty-six-year-old's tears dampening his skin and shirt collar.
"Deep breaths, buddy," the American encouraged, tightening his embrace and trying to offer what comfort he could.
The Medical Examiner moved away, only to return with an ancient looking metal folding chair that she opened and placed nearby.
"You two take a few minutes," she advised sagely. "I'll get the paperwork processing. Just come on out whenever you're ready."
"Thank you," Jack offered earnestly, guiding his distraught lover to the chair and helping him sit down before crouching at his side. "You've been very kind, Doctor…?"
"Helen Baines, Captain," the greying redhead provided quietly, looking at the seated Welshman, then the obviously surprised RAF coat clad man with him. "I dealt with Owen Harper several times back before the bombings a few years ago. I'm glad this wasn't about one of your weird happenings, but almost wish it was instead of the tragedy it truly is. I'm sorry for your family's loss, Mr. Jones. It's always hardest with the children. I'll bring you some water, just stay down until the tremors stop."
She disappeared back the way they'd come in, and Harkness reached up to touch his lover's cheek, drying his tears. There was a brief flash of red light in the Guardian's eyes when he opened them to look at the older immortal, his expression sad and lost.
"Sorry…" Ianto whispered; his voice barely audible.
"You did good," Jack countered, rising to stand close enough to hold the Changeling against him. "What were your Shadows telling you?"
"They tried to help," Jones murmured, weakly wrapping both arms around the American's waist and leaning wearily against his coat muffled body. "They showed me… They couldn't stop her from dying, but they made sure she wasn't afraid… Mother Shadow met her in the shape of a winged pony like Cyfnos, and guided her to the Door… told her to close her eyes and think of her favourite place to be as she passed into the Dark, so David and Rhiannon and Johnny would know where to find her whenever their own time came."
"Wow," Harkness blinked in surprise. "They really do see you as kin. I can't imagine that kind of race going to those lengths for any other reason. Sometimes knowing you're at least one quarter Vortex-Void Dweller Shadow now makes me nervous… my old 'trust nothing' paranoia. But then there's something they do like this, and it makes me really glad they went that far in changing you, because it proves how serous they are about their Guardians."
The twenty-six-year-old nodded, closing his eyes again as the Captain rubbed his back and stroked his hair. The ME returned with a small bottle of cold water, gave it to the pair with a sad smile and departed once more.
It took about fifteen minutes and half the water for Ianto to settle enough to feel like heading upstairs once more. They left the folded chair against the wall in plain sight, thanked the apparently Torchwood aware woman at the desk for her patience, compassion, and long-standing discretion, then made for the lift once more. Time to see if there was any way to bring peace to young David, knowing that the Scieron had gifted it to Mica.
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AN: Ianto will always try to spare his family any suffering, no matter the cost to himself. He and Jack are doing their best to help them all move forward. And they appear to have found a previously unknown ally as well.
The site is still fighting me tooth and nail. Please be assured that I am doing my best to get a chapter to post every week. The struggle is real…
Thank you to those reading the story. And thank you to those who have followed, favourited, and reviewed. NM