Turning Point - 17/64
Title: Turning Point
Fandom: Torchwood
Pairings: budding Jack/Ianto, references to past Ianto/Lisa
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: If I was the one who owned Torchwood, you think I'd admit it now?
Spoilers: Some information and events from s1,2. NONE for s3.
Summary: In the aftermath of Lisa's death, Ianto is struggling to cope - and new surprises don't help matters much. Can his friends on the team at Torchwood help him carry on?
Author's Note: Sequel to Guilt.
Thanks to: My lovely beta cazmalfoy, angelzbabe1989 for idea bouncing, and morbid_sparks for cheerleading even when she doesn't know what happens.
Previous chapters at master list
Chapter Seventeen
Jack was beginning to wonder if the gods, or the fates, or whatever was or wasn’t out there controlling everything, just didn’t want him ever to finish this book.
He had originally planned to go out and pick one of his favourite rooftops to sit on for a while, gazing out at the Cardiff skyline and the evening bustle below. He’d quickly abandoned the idea when the skies had opened, gifting Cardiff with an onslaught of particularly heavy rain.
In the interests of staying warm and dry - because hypothermia was not the most enjoyable way to die - he’d decided he might as well try another quiet evening with a book. His last one, after all, had been interrupted by the unfortunate death of their most recent glove test subject.
He had a strong sense of déjà vu when, the moment he’d settled down - sitting sideways on his camp bed with his back against the wall - there was an insistent beeping from something in his office.
He already had his mobile in hand in preparation before he even climbed out of the hatch into his office. A few moments in front of the computer confirmed his suspicions; it was exactly the same alert as a few nights previously.
Within twenty minutes, the four of them were once again ensconced in the SUV, wipers swishing wildly against the rain, on their way to the scene. It was surrounded once again by blue lights and crime scene tape, but a few strong words in the right ear and the police personnel scattered.
Jack buttoned his coat right to the top as he climbed out of the SUV; at least it might stop the rain trickling down the back of his neck quite so much.
The last few officers from beside the tape dispersed as they swept through; Jack noted absently that they looked as miserable in the rain as he felt.
Even through the rain, the blood pool from the body was still visible on the concrete below their feet. Owen, Tosh and Suzie moved quickly into the same positions they had occupied the last time. Clearly none of them wanted to spend any more time in the downpour than was actually necessary.
Jack stood a little ways off, watching them set up from the corner of his eye as he glared at the clouds above. “I hate the rain,” he announced to no one in particular. “And…” He stuck his tongue out. “There’s something in it.” He stuck his tongue out again, catching several raindrops on it. “I think it’s oestrogen. Yep, definitely oestrogen, I can taste it.”
He sighed. “You take the pill, flush it away, it enters the water cycle. Feminises the fish. Goes all the way up into the sky, then falls all the way back down… onto me. Contraceptives in the rain; gotta love this planet.” He shrugged, realising that the rest of his team wasn’t paying attention to him. “Still, at least I won’t get pregnant. Never doing that again.” He hadn’t meant to do it the first time, either.
He turned back to his team, crouched on the ground around the body. “Nearly ready, there?”
Suzie nodded. “Nearly. Just got to wait for it to…” She tensed slightly, just for a fraction of a second, as she and the glove… connected.
“Right!” Jack called. “Owen, take over taping for Tosh. Let her try talking to him this time. Since you insisted on telling the last one he was injured and he spent two whole minutes screaming for an ambulance.”
“All right, all right,” Owen grumbled, swapping places with Tosh. “But I still don’t think it’s a good idea to tell them that they’re dead.”
“Well,” Jack said. “We can find out.”
Suzie placed her hand on the back of the young - too young, Jack thought - man’s head, and the rain around them seemed to just… stop. Jack glanced around briefly to note that it was still pouring outside their little circle; the glove must have been doing something to stop it over the area around them.
The man gasped as his eyes flew open, swinging around wildly in confusion. “What… where… I was… I was…” He breathed deeply. “I was… oh my God… I was going home! What’s happening? Who are you?”
Tosh held up a hand and spoke in a calm voice. “Shhh, just trust me. You’re dead.”
The man’s eyes grew even wilder. “Dead? I can’t be dead. How am I dead?”
“You were stabbed,” Owen said from behind his head; the young man’s eyes rolled back for a moment, trying to see who had spoken.
“I can’t be dead,” he repeated. “I can see you!”
“You’re dead,” Tosh said, firmly but gently. “We brought you back, but we only have a couple of minutes. Tell me, did you see anything? Who did this to you?”
“How can I be dead?”
“Please, concentrate,” Tosh begged. “What happened? Who attacked you?”
His head twisted in Suzie’s hand. “I don’t understand! I can’t be dead!”
“Just focus on me,” Tosh tried calmly. “What did you see?”
“I… I don’t know.”
“Did you see who attacked you?”
“I was just… I didn’t see anything. There was something behind me…”
“The police did say he was stabbed in the back,” Owen interjected.
Tosh deflated. “So he didn’t see anything.” She looked around them. “What do I ask now?” she murmured.
Jack hunkered down beside her, catching the eye of the young man. “Hi. What’s your name?”
“John,” he stammered. “John Tucker. Who are you?”
“Captain Jack Harkness,” Jack introduced himself, a flicker of his trademark grin ghosting over his face as he said it. “What was it like? What did you see, when you died?”
A look of horror came over John’s face.
“What did you see?” Jack repeated.
“Nothing,” John said, the panic beginning to reappear in his voice. “Oh God, there was nothing!”
His eyes rolled back in his head and his body slumped, the rain starting to fall over them again as the last of the life left him.
“Just over two minutes,” Suzie said quietly. “About the same as last time.”
“What was that all about?” Owen asked, staring at Jack as all of them bar Suzie got to their feet.
“We had to ask him something!” Jack retorted. He didn’t mention that he had wondered if what he saw after death was different to everyone else; if his immortality had changed that for him too.
“I still think it was a stupid idea to tell him he was dead,” Owen grumbled.
“Well, we don’t really have many options,” Tosh pointed out.
“Maybe there is no right way to go about this,” Jack said, shrugging a little.
A flash of luminescent yellow caught his eye from above and he glanced up, catching a glimpse of a head looking over the edge of the multi-storey car park beside them.
“What do you think?” he yelled up, unsurprised to see the head disappear as the woman ran off.
The others sharply followed his gaze. “Shit,” Owen said succinctly. “How much do you think she saw?”
“My guess would be everything,” Jack replied, watching Suzie pack up the glove. “And in a couple of days she’ll have convinced herself that she imagined it.” He shifted his shoulders, shrugging water off. “If I’m wrong and she proves to be trouble, we’ll deal with it.”
Chapter Eighteen
Comments and concrit are loved!
Fandom: Torchwood
Pairings: budding Jack/Ianto, references to past Ianto/Lisa
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: If I was the one who owned Torchwood, you think I'd admit it now?
Spoilers: Some information and events from s1,2. NONE for s3.
Summary: In the aftermath of Lisa's death, Ianto is struggling to cope - and new surprises don't help matters much. Can his friends on the team at Torchwood help him carry on?
Author's Note: Sequel to Guilt.
Thanks to: My lovely beta cazmalfoy, angelzbabe1989 for idea bouncing, and morbid_sparks for cheerleading even when she doesn't know what happens.
Previous chapters at master list
Chapter Seventeen
Jack was beginning to wonder if the gods, or the fates, or whatever was or wasn’t out there controlling everything, just didn’t want him ever to finish this book.
He had originally planned to go out and pick one of his favourite rooftops to sit on for a while, gazing out at the Cardiff skyline and the evening bustle below. He’d quickly abandoned the idea when the skies had opened, gifting Cardiff with an onslaught of particularly heavy rain.
In the interests of staying warm and dry - because hypothermia was not the most enjoyable way to die - he’d decided he might as well try another quiet evening with a book. His last one, after all, had been interrupted by the unfortunate death of their most recent glove test subject.
He had a strong sense of déjà vu when, the moment he’d settled down - sitting sideways on his camp bed with his back against the wall - there was an insistent beeping from something in his office.
He already had his mobile in hand in preparation before he even climbed out of the hatch into his office. A few moments in front of the computer confirmed his suspicions; it was exactly the same alert as a few nights previously.
Within twenty minutes, the four of them were once again ensconced in the SUV, wipers swishing wildly against the rain, on their way to the scene. It was surrounded once again by blue lights and crime scene tape, but a few strong words in the right ear and the police personnel scattered.
Jack buttoned his coat right to the top as he climbed out of the SUV; at least it might stop the rain trickling down the back of his neck quite so much.
The last few officers from beside the tape dispersed as they swept through; Jack noted absently that they looked as miserable in the rain as he felt.
Even through the rain, the blood pool from the body was still visible on the concrete below their feet. Owen, Tosh and Suzie moved quickly into the same positions they had occupied the last time. Clearly none of them wanted to spend any more time in the downpour than was actually necessary.
Jack stood a little ways off, watching them set up from the corner of his eye as he glared at the clouds above. “I hate the rain,” he announced to no one in particular. “And…” He stuck his tongue out. “There’s something in it.” He stuck his tongue out again, catching several raindrops on it. “I think it’s oestrogen. Yep, definitely oestrogen, I can taste it.”
He sighed. “You take the pill, flush it away, it enters the water cycle. Feminises the fish. Goes all the way up into the sky, then falls all the way back down… onto me. Contraceptives in the rain; gotta love this planet.” He shrugged, realising that the rest of his team wasn’t paying attention to him. “Still, at least I won’t get pregnant. Never doing that again.” He hadn’t meant to do it the first time, either.
He turned back to his team, crouched on the ground around the body. “Nearly ready, there?”
Suzie nodded. “Nearly. Just got to wait for it to…” She tensed slightly, just for a fraction of a second, as she and the glove… connected.
“Right!” Jack called. “Owen, take over taping for Tosh. Let her try talking to him this time. Since you insisted on telling the last one he was injured and he spent two whole minutes screaming for an ambulance.”
“All right, all right,” Owen grumbled, swapping places with Tosh. “But I still don’t think it’s a good idea to tell them that they’re dead.”
“Well,” Jack said. “We can find out.”
Suzie placed her hand on the back of the young - too young, Jack thought - man’s head, and the rain around them seemed to just… stop. Jack glanced around briefly to note that it was still pouring outside their little circle; the glove must have been doing something to stop it over the area around them.
The man gasped as his eyes flew open, swinging around wildly in confusion. “What… where… I was… I was…” He breathed deeply. “I was… oh my God… I was going home! What’s happening? Who are you?”
Tosh held up a hand and spoke in a calm voice. “Shhh, just trust me. You’re dead.”
The man’s eyes grew even wilder. “Dead? I can’t be dead. How am I dead?”
“You were stabbed,” Owen said from behind his head; the young man’s eyes rolled back for a moment, trying to see who had spoken.
“I can’t be dead,” he repeated. “I can see you!”
“You’re dead,” Tosh said, firmly but gently. “We brought you back, but we only have a couple of minutes. Tell me, did you see anything? Who did this to you?”
“How can I be dead?”
“Please, concentrate,” Tosh begged. “What happened? Who attacked you?”
His head twisted in Suzie’s hand. “I don’t understand! I can’t be dead!”
“Just focus on me,” Tosh tried calmly. “What did you see?”
“I… I don’t know.”
“Did you see who attacked you?”
“I was just… I didn’t see anything. There was something behind me…”
“The police did say he was stabbed in the back,” Owen interjected.
Tosh deflated. “So he didn’t see anything.” She looked around them. “What do I ask now?” she murmured.
Jack hunkered down beside her, catching the eye of the young man. “Hi. What’s your name?”
“John,” he stammered. “John Tucker. Who are you?”
“Captain Jack Harkness,” Jack introduced himself, a flicker of his trademark grin ghosting over his face as he said it. “What was it like? What did you see, when you died?”
A look of horror came over John’s face.
“What did you see?” Jack repeated.
“Nothing,” John said, the panic beginning to reappear in his voice. “Oh God, there was nothing!”
His eyes rolled back in his head and his body slumped, the rain starting to fall over them again as the last of the life left him.
“Just over two minutes,” Suzie said quietly. “About the same as last time.”
“What was that all about?” Owen asked, staring at Jack as all of them bar Suzie got to their feet.
“We had to ask him something!” Jack retorted. He didn’t mention that he had wondered if what he saw after death was different to everyone else; if his immortality had changed that for him too.
“I still think it was a stupid idea to tell him he was dead,” Owen grumbled.
“Well, we don’t really have many options,” Tosh pointed out.
“Maybe there is no right way to go about this,” Jack said, shrugging a little.
A flash of luminescent yellow caught his eye from above and he glanced up, catching a glimpse of a head looking over the edge of the multi-storey car park beside them.
“What do you think?” he yelled up, unsurprised to see the head disappear as the woman ran off.
The others sharply followed his gaze. “Shit,” Owen said succinctly. “How much do you think she saw?”
“My guess would be everything,” Jack replied, watching Suzie pack up the glove. “And in a couple of days she’ll have convinced herself that she imagined it.” He shifted his shoulders, shrugging water off. “If I’m wrong and she proves to be trouble, we’ll deal with it.”
Chapter Eighteen
Comments and concrit are loved!