Torchwood: Divergence
Book Four: Hatchweliad
Chapter 11
It was shortly after 9:00 am when Martha made it into the Hub, her arrival coinciding with the re-emergence of Jack and a crutch supported Ianto from the office.
"How's our patient today?" the young doctor smiled, pausing on her way to the medical bay.
"Improving," Ianto reassured with a tiny smile and slight nod. "Turlough removed the neck to waist bandages, staples attached, estimates the brace can come off before lunch tomorrow, and advised caution for a day or two after that. Oh, and we ate your breakfast bacon butty, sorry."
"I'll forgive you," Martha laughed as she started unbuttoning her overcoat. "For two reasons. First, because you're definitely feeling better and you're in a good mood. And second… because I don't normally get to see you in slightly oversized track bottoms, especially when you obviously aren't wearing pants under them and the lot's held together with pins. Lose a couple and down they go!"
"No belt loops," the young Welshman replied with a slight shrug. "I haven't felt like hunting another pin to put in a pleat, and the crutches make my hoodie ride up. So, you're more than welcome to whatever cheap thrills my current attire provides."
"I love it when he gets cheeky," Jack grinned, heading for the kitchenette as his partner started toward the couch. "Gwen, how does Ianto take his coffee?"
The former constable rose to climb the stairs behind the man, even as Martha chuckled her way down into the Autopsy Lab.
"Rift's pretty quiet," Cooper stated as she quickly poured a cup of plain black coffee for their leader, and added a heavy splash of milk to a second one for the younger immortal below. "But I'm seeing some odd wave patterns that could be building to a sizable spike."
"Or slipping something through like the Xhoquitt," Harkness frowned, taking charge of both cups once the Welshwoman had added a scant spoon of sugar to each and stirred well. "Keep an eye on it. If the wave pattern fades, check the area of peak activity for anything unusual. If it rises into a full surge… well, we'll get an alert and deal with it as needed. Thanks for the heads-up."
They parted at the base of the risers, Gwen returning to her station as the American aimed for the couch where their resident Changeling sat with his braced leg propped on the far side of the low table there. He handed off the appropriate hot drink, then went around the table to settle on the cushions beside the younger man. After a minute or two, the Captain fielded the book they'd brought back from their holiday and they started going through it with a packet of coloured labelling flags, continuing a project they'd started the week before of marking the various stories with the likeliest Rift alien to explain the incidents.
Things clicked along quietly aside from the occasional spate of laughter from the pair on the couch. Then Gwen's chair rattled as she rolled back to turn to the redhead behind her.
"Those wave patterns are rising," she announced. "I think we're headed for a pretty major spike."
The words were barely out of her mouth, when the Rift alarm chimed through the Hub.
"Extreme surge," Turlough reported evenly. "Positive for mass transmission, system's trying to identify."
"Spike is centred on the outskirts of Whitchurch," Cooper added. "Accessing available CCTV in the area."
"Negative for life forms," the young alien nearby continued. "Scanning for alternative patterns from the Omicron 12 autopsy… still negative."
"Hello!" Gwen piped up in obvious surprise. "Oh, boy…"
"Now that's going to be hard to explain in broad daylight," Turlough snorted. "We have a thankfully empty and non-functional, fairly bullet riddled Spitfire sitting in the car park of the Bonus Buy on the northeast edge of Whitchurch."
Jack howled with laughter, the rest of the team sharing in the amusement to a slightly lesser degree.
"Call UNIT," Harkness finally managed, wiping tears from his eyes and fanning himself with a magazine from the table he sat behind. "See if they can arrange to haul it to a museum or something, let them make the excuses. Oh, man… I was thinking we were about to have another damn Death Hound, or a pack of Maws, or worse. Was not expecting a derelict World War II fighter after all that build up."
"Did yield some interesting data to watch for though," Turlough put in as Gwen dialled UNIT. "If large mass transmissions through the Rift are preceded by those wave patterns as a build-up… it could help us identify major incursions faster. I can set up a subroutine in the Rift Monitor programme to track them for a while… see if they're helpful or if this was simply a coincidence."
"The more we can decipher about how the Rift works, the better," Harkness stated with an approving nod.
"Hand me a laptop and I'll issue an administrative approval for you to amend the programme," Ianto called. "Otherwise, Mainframe will view you as a security risk and disable all of your logons entirely."
Their Time expert delivered the requested item, waited for the twenty-six-year-old to access the system and do what was necessary, then got the laptop out of his way once he'd logged off and shut it down.
"Give it ten minutes or so to cycle through all the onsite and remote servers as well as the satellites," the Archivist advised with a wince, shifting his braced leg uncomfortably. "Then do a total shut down and reboot of your station. Tosh didn't like 'outsiders' touching her precious programmes, so the approval has a time limit. You'll have access to her original coding for forty-eight hours. Once the permission expires, I won't be able to reissue it until a full twenty-four hours after that."
"Good thing I can code quickly," Turlough replied with a crooked smile. "I'll finish this last Archive search for when those bloody Rellaphoran Slugs first started appearing, then get to work on the new subroutine."
Relative quiet descended in the Hub once more, but Jack started noticing that his partner's attention on their book was wavering and he'd broken out in a cold sweat.
"Not liking the shade of grey you're turning," he murmured softly to the younger immortal, just as the Changeling winced sharply and reached for his crutches with a gasp. "Ianto?"
"B… Bones'n things shiftin'," the Welshman choked, his voice barely audible and accent heavy as he tried to struggle to his feet. "Room… now… 'fore I scream…"
"Leave them," Harkness advised, scooping the young Guardian into his arms and hurrying toward the office. "I'll come back for them."
The team members at the workstations watched them disappear, not privy to the breathless conversation that had just taken place. Then they heard a very muffled but no less terrible cry of pain from the room behind the bookcase, even as the double purpose door thumped shut. To their surprise, their leader reappeared in the office doorway, then strode over to grab his partner's crutches.
"Shut down the audio feed from the office," the American stated tightly as he moved back toward the room he'd just exited. "Some of the bones and tendons in Ianto's leg are moving back into correct alignment and trying to fuse now that things are healed enough for the joint to reform. He'd prefer you not have to listen to him scream while it's happening, and I can tell you from personal experience that there's no way he could endure it quietly without tonnes of drugs. Come knock if you really need me. Barring that, we'll be out when the worst is over."
And he was gone again, a strangled moan followed by an agonized keening briefly audible as he opened and closed the bedroom door.
"That is the worst thing about those two healing the way they do," Martha commented from the top of the Autopsy Lab stairs. "Especially for Ianto. Jack burns off narcotics and local anaesthetics at a super-fast rate, but at least they work on him. The Shadows don't allow that for our Changeling… he just has to try to bear it, no matter how bad it gets."
Gwen cringed, knowing all too well that she shouldered part of the blame for this round of misery. Her gaze kept wandering to the darkened office, would jerk back to her monitors whenever the twenty-six-year-old in the bedroom beyond cried out loudly enough for a barely audible echo to be heard in the Hub. After an indeterminant span of time there was quiet again, so she nearly jumped out of her skin when her mobile rang. The former PC answered it quickly, not looking at the caller ID.
"This is Gwen," she said hurriedly.
[Forgot to grab a comm] Jack's voice stated from the other end of the line. [Can you bring us some orange juice and a cold pack? Ianto's feeling kind of hypoglycaemic again and his temp's up.]
"Sure," Cooper agreed readily, already on her feet and heading for the kitchenette. "I'll bring you a headset too, so you'll have it if you need it."
[Thanks] Harkness replied. [See ya in a few.]
Then he disconnected the call, leaving the raven-haired woman to pocket her phone and pull the requested items from the fridge. She wasn't sure why he'd called her instead of Martha. Maybe to punish her by forcing her to see their friend suffering? Feeling more and more nervous she hurried down the risers, snagged a Bluetooth from the chargers and continued on to the office. At the bookcase door, she took a deep breath then knocked.
"Come on in," the Captain called evenly.
Gwen entered carefully, found the pair on the bed, the older brunette with an arm around his partner's shoulders and a damp cloth in his free hand that he was using to wipe sweat and tears from the Changeling's face.
"Here," Cooper offered, quickly opening the juice and holding it out for whichever man wanted to take it. "Let me slip this on you, Jack… Okay, where do you want the cold pack?"
"Mid-chest," the American advised, steadying Ianto's hand so he could sip the chilled orange juice.
The former constable leaned over the older immortal to lay the large frozen gel pack in the centre of her friend's now flannel shirt clad chest where he sat partly upright against the pillows, then moved back uncertainly.
"Can I do anything else?" she asked quietly as the juice was handed off to be placed on the night table.
"N… nuh…" Ianto started to answer shakily, only to gasp and grimace in pain, turning slightly to hide his face against his partner's chest. "Jesus Christ… fuckin' shoot me…"
"Easy," Harkness soothed, doing his best to support and comfort the young Guardian. "I've been there, buddy. I know how bad it can be. Just try to take deep breaths, I'm right here for you."
"I should go," Gwen breathed, her guts knotting at the sight of her young friend in such agony and knowing he was holding his tongue because she was there. "Just… call over the comms if you need anything else, yeah?"
"Thanks for the fetch and carry," Jack nodded, giving her a quick look before centring his attention on the Welshman in his arms again. "Hopefully this round will peter out in the next hour or so. We'll try to be back in the Hub by lunch time. But this is gonna happen off and on until the joint and all the bones, muscles, nerves, and connective tissue around it have fully repositioned, reformed, knit together, and properly re-meshed as a whole. The bones shifting and fusing are the worst bit, but after they've settled the rest shouldn't be anywhere near as traumatic."
"God, I hope not…" Ianto choked, his grip on the bed covers tightening and twisting as his leg made a wet crunching sound and he gave an involuntary jerk.
"Is…" Cooper began hesitantly. "Is there anything the Scieron can do to help with the pain?"
As though in answer, red light flickered in the tormented Archivist's eyes.
"Re… refocus?" he hissed, looking a little confused. "Like… hypnosis?"
Before any explanations were made, there was a searing flash of crimson light from the en suite, then a skinny black and while Shetland Sheepdog with glowing eyes and a worn red collar trotted from that room to jump up on the bed. She minced across to lay down along Ianto's lower right leg, rested her delicate muzzle over his damaged knee and met his unsteady gaze.
"Oh…" the Changeling whispered, relaxing slightly. "I see… I'll ask next time… promise…"
"Looks like your Faery Shadow Mother's got your back," Harkness half-smiled, glancing over at Gwen and giving her a slight nod. "Good suggestion. And definitely something to remember in the future. I think they're using Hardd as a focus for him, to sort of help him loop his attention away from the pain. Not as intense as that Kagawa Virus you and I were infected with that time, but enough to keep him from feeling the pain as much. I doubt he knew to ask, and they likely thought it wasn't bad enough to intervene if he wasn't asking for help. He's already relaxing way more than he had been, and his fever's coming down too, so… wow, he turned that to soft slush pretty fast."
Jack handed the former constable the now palpably warm gel pack and gave her a tiny smile.
"Thanks again," he murmured. "We'll be out as soon as we can. Give me a heads-up over the comms if something major comes through the Rift."
"Will do," Cooper nodded, watching Ianto's expression smooth as he slowly blinked and maintained eye contact with the little dog that had died twice at Harwood's months before. "Glad I could help at least a little. I think Turlough's working on that subroutine, so I'd best get back to regular monitor duty. Let me know if you need anything else."
The immortal American nodded in return, settling in more comfortably beside his lover as she turned to go. Gwen exited and closed the door, went to put the cold pack back in the tiny freezer area of the fridge and grabbed some coffee on her way to her station.
"Everything okay?" Martha asked, starting for the Hothouse stairs.
"Yeah," the one-time PC replied. "Turlough, do you remember the dog we caught a glimpse of at the hatchery? That's Hardd… the one the Scieron took away from Harwood's after that alien device resurrected her and Ianto had to put her down. The Shadows are using her as a kind of… vessel, I guess… here in the living world. They just sent her to help Ianto focus on something so he isn't in so much pain. Jack said it was a mental loop to keep him distracted."
"It could be a troupe of ballet dancing Weevils," Martha commented, though she was obviously impressed. "If it helps, I'm all for it. Nothing I can do will, that's for sure."
"Ianto's idea?" Turlough asked without looking up as their teammate stepped into the plant room. "Or yours?"
"I just asked if the Scieron could help," Gwen admitted. "The rest was all them. He didn't know he could ask for them to help, and they apparently didn't realise they needed to without him asking. But they've got that sorted now."
She looked over at the young redhead, just as he glanced up at her. He gave her a tiny nod of acknowledgement, then went back to his work on the Rift Monitor programme. Cooper blinked, realising she'd inadvertently done something good, that both Jack and Turlough were pleased with. Feeling a little less miserable and hard done by about the day, she focused on her array of screens with a smile.
TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT
AN: Speed healing is definitely not for the faint of heart…
And Gwen does have good ideas sometimes, though it's usually up to others to actually make things happen.
And yes, Best Girl Hardd is back.
Thank you to those reading the story. And thank you to those who have followed, favourited, and reviewed. NM