Torchwood: Divergence
Book Three: Rheoleiddiad
Chapter 33
Whatever was going on wasn't just bad… it was devastating.
"Ianto?" Jack called worriedly, joining the younger man on the decking and reaching out to steady him when he looked up at him with tortured, tear-filled eyes.
"M… Mica…" Ianto choked brokenly. "Oh God, Jack… they just saw her… She's only eight… she's too young to go into the Dark…"
"Oh, my God…" Gwen whispered, feeling tears burn her eyes as Harkness pulled the young Welshman into his arms, his own expression stricken.
"This…" Ianto grated, barely able to force the words out. "This is what's been… bothering me all morning… like I could feel something was… was horribly wrong… She fought for hours, Jack… she wanted to live so much… but… but she was the last he hit… she was crushed between the tyre… and the kerb… It took so long to get her out… The doctors tried… but they just couldn't save her…"
His voice trailed off into an agonized moan, even as he started to gasp for air in prelude to a seizure. The Captain simply held him tight, eased him down to a more prone position as his muscles started to spasm and his spine stiffened.
"Okay," Martha addressed the rest of the team. "Let's clear off back to the Boardroom, yeah? Give them some space for a bit."
The foursome trudged back down the corridor, wanting to help but knowing their absence was likely the best thing they could offer their friend at the moment. No-one was interested in finishing lunch, so Lois started to clean up, handing Gwen an unused paper napkin as she continued to cry.
"Mica's his niece, yeah?" Turlough queried quietly, dropping into his chair when Cooper nodded. "Bugger all… I didn't even think about that. To be honest, I'm not sure why I even brought the subject up. It was like a little voice whispered in my ear and told me to share what I'd seen."
"Maybe one of the Scieron did," Habiba murmured, looking like she could cry herself at any minute. "They knew his niece was dying and wanted to warn him before it actually happened."
"It's so unfair," Gwen lamented tearfully. "I met her when we tried to save the children from the 456. She was such a pretty, happy little thing. Not a mean bone in her body, so sweet and trusting. It just isn't right for her to die because some sodding drunk of a politician is allowed to keep driving when his bloody license has been revoked."
Everyone's earcomms hissed just then, and Jack's voice spoke quietly from the devices.
[Martha, I need you in the Lab,] the American stated tightly. [If the rest of you could clear things from lunch, I'd appreciate it.]
"On my way," Martha replied, giving Cooper a consoling pat on the shoulder as she headed back out into the Hub.
Turlough rose to assist with the clean-up, working around the still angry and crying Gwen.
"Poor Mrs. Davies," Lois murmured sadly. "She believes she's lost her brother, and now she really has lost her daughter. That must be awful."
"I don't think there's anything worse than losing a child," the former constable near the door said with a shudder, scrubbing the tears from her face only to have the replaced with more.
"There's always something worse," Turlough frowned. "Imagine losing a loved one and never getting to say goodbye, because you can't go to the services or funeral. Especially when you're privy to the details of what happened to them and know first-hand what death really holds for souls that pass that final Door."
"Ianto," Habiba breathed, preparing to take the plates of leftovers to the kitchenette. "You're right. I think that is worse."
The redhead took part of the items from her and they both started out, leaving the last member of the team to vent her distress alone.
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In the medical bay, Ianto was curled up atop the exam table, trembling violently and deathly pale. His jacket was hanging over the back of the stool, the left sleeve of his turtleneck pushed up past his elbow to expose blood-soaked gauze. In his vulnerable state, the intensity of the seizure had been enough to break open the slashes on his forearm and his temperature was climbing in response.
Jack was standing close behind him, patiently stroking his hair and using a clean white handkerchief to wipe the sweat and tears from his face as a glove-clad Martha unwrapped the bandages. She got everything pulled away, wincing involuntarily when she got a good look at the wounds, knife scored bone showing at the centre of each.
"Okay," the young physician breathed. "I'm going to clean them up a bit, then staple them closed so this won't happen again. We know the Scieron cells will push the staples out once the cuts seal, and they're faster to put in than regular sutures."
"She'll break…" the shivering Welshman on the table whispered tearfully, his eyes closed tight. "Rhi'll never get over this… or David… They showed me… When the kids screamed… tried to run… he couldn't keep hold of Mica's hand… like you said happened with Gray, Jack… He found her… sat with her… told her he'd take care of her while they waited for emergency services… lay down on the road as close as he could… and held her hand… It was her blood on him when Rhi… when Rhi and Johnny got to Hospital…"
"I know…" Harkness murmured, heartsick over the tragedy and wishing there was more he could do to comfort the distraught Changeling. "I'm sorry…"
His partner choked back a cry as the team medic started stapling closed the deep knife wounds on his arm, shaking harder than ever. Martha worked quickly but thoroughly, coated everything with antiseptic cream, got new padding and bandages in place. Then she carefully pulled down her patient's sleeve and nodded to the older man across the exam table.
"Bed," she advised, her dark eyes worried and sad. "He needs down time. I'll bring his jacket once I clean up here."
"I… feel sick…" Ianto hissed suddenly, tyring to push up into a sitting position.
The Captain helped his lover sit up with his legs off the side of the table, even as Martha grabbed a large autopsy pan and held it ready. What little the twenty-six-year-old had eaten since rising that morning made a painful and unpleasant reappearance, as his whole body rebelled against the shock of the loss his family had suffered. When the dry heaving stopped, the team doctor used a damp towel to bathe the young Welshman's face and hands, then helped him ease off the table for the assisted trek upstairs out of the Lab. Harkness snagged his jacket and draped it over his shoulders as he continued to shiver, then solicitously supported him up the ramp to avoid the potential tripping hazard of the stairs.
Turlough and Lois waited at the bottom of the kitchenette risers, having stored the leftovers and now not sure if their assistance was needed as the Institute's two senior members made their way toward the office. Jack gave them a reassuring nod to let them know he had things in hand, got his violently trembling partner up the steps to the room that hid their quarters and disappeared within.
Ianto had had an emotionally and physically damaging morning and early part of the day, and now it appeared that his suffering wasn't going to be ending anytime soon. And there was absolutely nothing the team at large could do to help.
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AN: And so it begins…
I fear I may be doing posts on Sunday for a bit… Saturdays are just too hectic right now… I apologise that RL is interfering with my posting schedule.
Thank you to those reading the story. And thank you to those who have followed, favourited, and reviewed. NM