Torchwood: Divergence
Book Three: Rheoleiddiad

Chapter 27

Jack was around the bed and closing on the unsteady Welshman in the blink of an eye, the same cold dread and panic he'd felt at Thames House icing through his veins at the sight of the elaborate hunting knife in the younger man's hand. If that razor-edged flare of silver was going to draw anyone's blood, it would be his… penance for pushing his beloved too far yet again without listening to the tell-tale protests or seeing the warning signs. He cried out as the blade flashed before he could catch hold of the twenty-six-year-old's hand, deep crimson welling in the metal's wake.

It wasn't from Ianto's heart however, but the back of his left forearm, and he'd managed to make three bone-scoring slices between wrist and elbow through the heavy fabric of his work shirt before Jack was able to stop him. The Captain yanked the knife away from the younger man, not caring about the scattering of blisters it left on his fingers and palm as he quickly cast it aside to dissolve and disappear. Then he met his lover's tortured gaze, found horror, panic, and pain in his blue-grey eyes just before they unfocused and rolled up under fluttering lids when his head thumped back hard against the wall and he gave a strangled gasp.

Jack pulled his Archivist close and simply sat down where he was near the wall with the convulsing man held tight in his lap. He pinned the Changeling's lacerated arm against his own chest, trying to mitigate the bleeding if possible. He'd seen battle traumatized soldiers hurt themselves the same way after particularly harrowing close combat or when forced to take part in morally questionable missions. It was very much like the penance he'd been considering seconds before, which didn't make sense… Ianto hadn't done anything wrong to cause the kind of guilt that sort of self-injury was meant to purge. So why had he done it?

The American held the younger man until the long, ugly seizure petered out, then simply struggled to his feet with him in his arms and strode over to the expansive bathroom. He eased the panting, trembling twenty-six-year-old down into the empty soaking tub, grabbed a towel from the nearby bar and stripped open his ruined shirt sleeve to cover the gaping slashes in the flesh beneath. He used pressure to control the bleeding as he tried to get his lover to focus on him. But Ianto had his eyes closed again and wouldn't open them, his breathing now very shallow as he began radiating heat.

"Why did you do this?" Jack pressed, briefly lifting the Changeling's wounded arm to indicate what he meant. "Why the Pledge Blade?"

"It just… appeared…" Ianto panted, his eyes still closed but his expression lost and haunted as tears escaped from beneath his lashes. "An answer… to despair. But… I don't want… to leave you…"

"I don't want you to go," the Captain insisted firmly, the very thought making his heart race, his throat tighten and his guts turn cold. "I'm glad you didn't… but I don't understand why you used it on yourself anyhow."

"Punishment…" his Archivist whispered miserably.

"For what?" Harkness demanded in surprise. "You haven't done anything to deserve this or anything else. I'm the one to blame for your current state, why should you be the one to get punished?"

"I'm a liar," Ianto half sobbed, trying to curl up in the tub. "I… I lied to that girl today… I told you… I didn't want you to… to change because of me… but… but then I want you to… stop feeling… the way you do about Gwen. I'm rubbish… I hate feeling like all I do… is drag you down… and make you miserable. Thinking it… it would've been better… for everyone… if the Scieron… had left me dead. If you didn't really want me… didn't mean the Pledge… my life now is a lie…"

Jack stared at the young Welshman in horrified shock, slowly released his towel bound arm. Then he shakily reached out to grasp the distraught Guardian by the shoulders and pull him into a sitting position.

"I can't do this 'fixed point' thing without you, Ianto," the Captain grated desperately. "Please, look at me… look into my eyes. No barriers, no hiding, nothing but the truth."

Reluctantly Ianto complied, met the American's desolate gaze.

"What I showed you last night was true reality, exactly what happened that night when I abandoned the Earth six months after you died," Harkness insisted solemnly, feeling tears sting his eyes. "What I was feeling when I ran, because nothing I tried to get you back or be with you in the Dark had worked. And even reliving it didn't teach me a damn thing, because I went right back to business as usual. But I need you, or I can't face eternity… not anymore. If I lose you again, Ianto, I don't give a damn what happens to the Universe or the future. They mean nothing to me. I will use the emergency code on my Vortex Manipulator and teleport myself into the farthest reaches of deep space, because it's the closest I can come to dying too now.

"I'm sorry I left you like that in London, I should've made them send your body home with Gwen and Rhys. I was too numb to even think about it at the time. I can never make up for that mistake but I swear I will do whatever you need me to, whatever it takes to make you see that your new life isn't a lie. It's the most incredible gift I've ever been given, and one I obviously don't deserve or you wouldn't be like this right now. You're the only reason I came back to Earth, Ianto, the only reason I'm still here and running Torchwood again. If I have to fire Gwen and Retcon her entire damn family to solve this, I will. If you'd rather leave the Institute, start a new life somewhere, we can do that. If you want to leave the planet, explore the stars, I'll find a way. Just please stay with me."

The Scieron reborn Welshman simply stared at him, never breaking eye contact, his breathing still alarmingly shallow and his expression that on a heartbroken child. After several nerve-wracking minutes, it seemed he'd sussed the truth of what he'd been told and considered his options. Looking utterly lost and scared, he slowly leaned forward to hesitantly brush his Captain's lips with his own, shakily slipped his uninjured arm around the man and hid his face against the side of his neck.

"I'm a failure as a Guardian," Ianto whispered tightly, trembly violently. "I get hurt and upset you all the time. I'm jealous of my oldest friend. I ask too much of you and don't do near enough to prove I was worth being brought back from the Dark. Why would you still want me?"

"Because my heart and soul don't care about any of those things," Jack growled fiercely. "They just can't endure the cold, echoing void inside them both when you aren't with me. Love doesn't judge or keep score, it just is. Otherwise you'd've told me to sod off a long time ago.

"You are so damn hard on yourself, Ianto. I wish you could see what I do. You're a fantastic Scieron Guardian, you always put the safety of others before your own, which is why you get hurt. I'm only upset because I'm still scared of losing you every time something major happens. You wouldn't be jealous of Gwen if she and I didn't keep giving you a reason to be. And you've only ever seriously asked me for two things… my love and my trust. You've got both, Ianto Jones. You and only you. The rest should be common sense, and means I still have a whole lot of age-old selfish habits to break."

"I'm sorry I got so upset," Ianto breathed, shivering as his temperature climbed another notch, the Shadows in his body stirring to heal the lacerations on his arm. "I didn't mean to ruin your day…"

"No harm, no foul," the American reassured, wrapping his arms around the younger man and simply letting himself be grateful for his continued presence. "Why don't we see if there's anything here to clean up your arm, then you can tour me around the flat before we decide what to do with the rest of the day, yeah?"

"Help me up?" his partner requested quietly, needing the assistance and support to exit the tub, the recent seizures and newly spiked fever making him shake too hard to manage it alone. "First-aid box is under the basin there… no time to organise the medicine chest yet."

Harkness helped him to sit on the wide edge of the tub, then turned to open the cupboard under the sink. Expecting a little plastic kit with sticking plasters and cotton swabs, the ageless brunette was surprised to find a large expandable hardcase like paramedics used in the field.

"Have you already stayed here?" he wondered aloud, not knowing of any complex that included ambulance worthy medical boxes with their units.

"No," Ianto shook his head, still very quiet and seeming rather depressed, even though they'd apparently worked through the current issue. "I just added a few items to be prepared for if you decided to use the place. Decent first-aid kit's always a good idea, so I got one like Owen used to use. Stocked towels, cleaning supplies, bottled water in the fridge, linens and things for the bed… that kind of stuff. Same at the big house, so we'd have the basics whenever you wanted to try an overnight."

"Good to know," the older immortal nodded, peeling away the blood-soaked towel that covered his companion's self-inflicted wounds. "Another plus, is that whatever your shirt's made of soaks up blood really well. It's pretty much shot, but there's not a drop of red in the tub or out in the bedroom, and only a tiny smear on my shirt. Hmm… Let's get it off now though and have you come stand with your arm over the sink. I'll disinfect it, see how much it's still bleeding and go from there."

Time to really start proper damage control.

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AN: Poor Ianto is having a really crappy day…

For those who may wonder, no Ianto's "overload" induced seizures are not like epileptic seizures, where you take precautions but do not restrain the person seizing. With Ianto, his chances of injury are from if he falls (and where he lands because of that), and the initial sharp jerk as the seizure sets in that could tear muscle or (in the right position) snap his neck. He is safer being restrained unless he manages to make it to a bed or other large soft surface, and the contact actually makes it easier for him to come out of the disorientation after the seizure ends.

Thank you to those reading the story. And thank you to those who have followed, favourited, and reviewed. NM