Torchwood: Divergence
Book Three: Rheoleiddiad
Chapter 44
This whole situation had been a horror show from the very beginning. And Jack could only hope he truly had the wherewithal to get Ianto through it.
"Sorry I lost it again," Ianto whispered after a moment. "Tried not to… but I kept seeing Mica… could hear her crying when she was pinned…"
"Hey, it's not a problem," the American reassured. "I've had the same issue. Gods… the nights I'd spend trying not to walk out the airlock because I just kept seeing your face after Thames House. I still see it, watch you die in my arms… it's hard not to the times the Scieron have to take you to Hell, or when you're really hurt and so damn pale."
"Kiss… kiss it better?" Ianto breathed haltingly; his eyes closed but his expression mournful.
"You or me?" Harkness queried with a tiny smile, easing the Welshman back so he could see his face.
"Yes…" the younger immortal replied, his voice barely audible.
Taking that to mean they both needed a good solid snog, Jack carefully supported his lover's head and obliged. When he started to ease away however, the twenty-six-year-old found the strength to protest by weakly capturing his bottom lip with both of his own and encouraging a second, deeper kiss. Finally, they parted, the Changeling giving a contented sigh and actually managing a ghost of a smile.
"You still owe me…" he murmured wearily, obviously referring to the 'promise' from the night before.
"And I will happily pay up tonight if you're feeling better," the Captain chuckled, moving to get the younger man comfortably settled against the pillows and straighten the covers. "So, you need to have some of the water Gwen's bringing, snuggle down and try to sleep. How's the arm doing?"
"Sore…" Ianto admitted, pulling the limb close to his body under the blankets. "But healing…"
"Sorry," Cooper called as he hurried into the room with the cold pack and a bottle of water. "Got sidetracked by a call from Andy. Got a minute, Jack?"
"I think I can spare one or two," Harkness shrugged, helping his partner sit up and drink some of the chilled water, then easing him back again. "I'm gonna lay this on the sheet over your chest. It'll actually help with the fever a lot faster than having it on your head and neck, because it's cooling the blood at the heart. Think you'll be okay for a couple minutes?"
"Yeah…" his Archivist breathed, already feeling himself start to drift as exhaustion drowned everything else.
The Captain rose carefully and followed Gwen out into the Hub.
"He looks done in," she said with a worried frown. "Rough time at the hospital?"
"He acted as proxy for the family at the morgue," the ageless American nodded, his expression grim. "Wanted to spare them seeing their child's corpse. Had to hear his sister say she wished her daughter had disappeared instead of having to see her all broken, and that she didn't know how to help her son come to terms with what happened. Then he held all that misery in, so he could talk to his nephew and snap him out of his shell-shocked state. I thought I knew everything about him. But I keep learning new things all the time. About his childhood, his life before Torchwood, his personal life in London, how lonely and wounded he was after we killed Lisa but before he took up with me.
"And it all shows me that I really underestimated him the entire time I knew him before the 456. Torchwood underestimated and undervalued him. He has resources of strength, intelligence, courage, and patience that surprise me sometimes. But he's got limits too, and more often than not he pushes way past them. Always has, just more so since he came back in August. Then he ends up like he is right now, sick and exhausted."
"Then you might want to save the news Andy just passed on," Cooper warned, her tone becoming bitter. "There won't be justice for his niece, or the crossing matron, or the other three of the children who've died. Councilman Buel was found dead in his jail cell this morning. The assigned ME is delaying the autopsy without giving a valid reason, but saying possible aneurysm in spite of that. Which would give his barristers grounds to claim the accident wasn't his fault due to medical issues and just bury the astronomical blood-alcohol level registered right after it happened. That means no restitution to the families, no admission of responsibility. The families of the victims are going to be burying their loved ones in the coming days and won't see a scrap of anything to ease their grief. He'll have gotten by with murder."
Jack's face was a mask of rage, and he looked like he wanted something to hit or throw.
"Find out where the body is," he growled. "Then get his biggest enemy among the Council on the phone. Tell them you're with one of the news agencies and you've heard the ME on the case is helping cover up the truth. Suggest the Council may want to assign an independent physician to perform the autopsy ASAP before they can be accused of conspiring to sweep the incident under the rug."
"On it," the former constable nodded, hurrying to her workstation and running the necessary searches.
"I'm gonna sit with Ianto for a while," Harkness stated, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. "Let me know how it goes."
He headed back into the bedroom, pushed the door to, and moved to sit on the chair to remove his boots. Then he slid over onto the mattress, eased the covers back to check the cold pack and grimaced. It was now warming slush in its casing, so he relocated it to the night table and got the blankets bundled over his sleeping lover once more. A quick kiss on the forehead told him the young Welshman's fever was down slightly, and he settled close to rest a comforting hand on his blanket muffled chest.
Somehow, he'd find a way to bring Ianto and his family the closure Gwen harped on so much. This wasn't a matter of hiding damage caused by aliens or the Rift itself, this was shining a light on the criminal negligence of a poor excuse of a purely terrestrial human being… and it was personal.
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AN: Perpetrators trying to wriggle out of taking responsibility (even when it's done by others for them posthumously) is far, far too common. In this case, Torchwood will not let it stand.
Your continued patience and support is greatly appreciated.
Thank you to those reading the story. And thank you to those who have followed, favourited, and reviewed. NM