Fic: Torchwood Paranormal, Part Fifteen
Still chugging away :).
Thump, thump, thump, thump
"Stop."
Thump, thump, thump, thump
"Jack, stop!"
Thump, thump--
"Jack!"
Ianto curled his fingers around Jack's wrists, shoving them aside to stop the compressions. As Jack fell back, Ianto rolled to his side and coughed, then continued moving until he was on his hands and knees. He felt a little light-headed but before he could take a deep breath, Jack was beside him once more, wrapping his arms around Ianto's shoulders and pulling him against his chest.
"Ianto! God, Ianto, don't move, okay? I'm going to get help."
Ianto squirmed around in Jack's embrace, struggling against his grip until they were face to face and he could put his hands on Jack's arms.
"Jack, listen to me, I'm fine. Jack?" Jack's eyes were wide as he searched Ianto's face and although Ianto wasn't sure if "fine" was an accurate description, judging from Jack's panicked expression, he knew that he was moving, he was breathing, and nothing seemed broken. More importantly, whatever had been hurting Jack had ceased. The deep, pounding vibrations had subsided, though Ianto could still feel a subliminal hum in his mind. "Jack? Can you hear me?"
If Jack could actually hear Ianto speaking, he gave no indication. He curved one hand around Ianto's neck, drawing him close until their foreheads touched as he dug something out of his pocket. Sensing the movement, Ianto moved back far enough to see that Jack had his mobile in his hand.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
Jack's attention was on his phone. "I'm calling for help," he muttered. He looked up at Ianto. "Don't worry, I'm going to get us out of here, you're going to be okay, I promise."
Ianto frowned at him. "Of course we are. Jack, wait." He grabbed the phone from Jack's hand and set it aside, out of Jack's reach. "Jack, listen to me, I'm okay, I'm fine." A sudden, horrifying thought occurred to him. "Oh, God, Jack, is it you? Do you need a doctor?" He ran his hands down Jack's arms, searching for injury. "Are you hurt? I thought I stopped it in time!"
The panic in Jack's eyes finally began to clear, quickly replaced by confusion and anger. Ianto lifted one hand to touch Jack's face, a tentative gesture to soothe and comfort, but Jack flinched away, eyes narrowing.
"No." Jack wiped his mouth with the side of his hand, and that's when Ianto noticed that his fingers were shaking. He scooted away until they were facing each other, sitting in dirt that was rapidly turning to mud.
"Then why were you calling--"
"You were dead, Ianto!" Jack's voice cracked as he rubbed his face with both hands, but when he looked up, Ianto was shocked to see moisture clouding his blue eyes, turning them as grey as the sky above them. "Do you hear me? Do you get it? Dead!"
Ianto didn't know what to say. He certainly didn't feel as though he'd been dead--in fact, aside from a slight headache and a buzzing sensation sliding along his nerves, he felt normal. It was Jack he was worried about, Jack who'd been writhing in pain only a few short minutes ago.
"I don't think so," he murmured.
"Oh, really? No, trust me, I was there. You didn't have a heartbeat."
"For how long?"
"What?" Jack scraped his fingers through his damp hair, disarranging it. "How long what?"
"Did I not have a heartbeat."
"I don't know--does it matter? I checked for a pulse, you didn't have one, I started CPR and the next thing I know, you're pushing me off."
Ianto tugged at his bottom lip, eyes on the horizon. "Not too long, then."
Suddenly Jack was on the move, kneeling in front of Ianto and framing his face between his palms. "This has to stop, Ianto. This has to stop now. When I looked up, and you were--" Jack looked away, eyelashes resting on his cheeks. "No more," he finished firmly. "This ends today."
Ianto's fingers closed around Jack's wrists, though this time he did not push Jack away. "I'd like nothing more," he whispered. "Nothing. But all we have is more proof that you are the one at risk here, not me."
Jack shook off Ianto's hands and leaned back. "And how do you figure that?"
"Don't you remember? You were attacked."
Whatever Jack was expecting Ianto to say, that wasn't it. Some deep emotion flared deep in Jack's eyes as he stared at Ianto, fists resting on his thighs.
"Yeah, let's try that again, because you know damn well that's not what's important here."
"It is to me," Ianto snapped. A wave of dizziness washed over him as the improbable scent of cloves and cinnamon filled his nostrils, accompanied by an intensifying of the vibration. He closed his eyes and coughed, then lowered his head to try and get his balance. Jack was beside him in an instant, pulling him into a loose embrace, and Ianto let his head rest on Jack's shoulder. That sat there together for a few minutes as Ianto regained his breath and the buzzing faded a bit, then he gently pushed Jack's arms away. Jack didn't move far, merely shifting his legs beneath him as he regarded Ianto through eyes filled with concern.
"So, we're back at square one," Jack said with a short smile.
Ianto's smile in return was just as brief. "Apparently."
"Let's try this again." Jack's tone was deceptively calm. "Give me the short version of what just happened."
"The short version?"
"Yes, the short version, because in two minutes I'm going to call Owen and I need to know what to tell him."
Ianto started to protest but held back. At this moment, Jack appeared all too ready to bring down every emergency service in Wales on their heads, so he took Jack's statement as compromise. He settled himself a little further away from Jack, his arms wrapped around his knees.
"Not exactly sure, to be honest. I remember the sounds, and the vibrations getting worse, and then you were on the ground." He shook his head as he recalled his anguish at seeing Jack--indomitable, unconquerable Jack Harkness--felled by an unseen enemy. "You were right, it was something coming from the mine, something that bypassed me and attacked you directly."
"Okay, I'm with you so far. Unfortunately, it got so bad I blacked out. What happened next?"
Ianto lowered his eyes. "I'm not sure I can put it into words."
Tucking two curled fingers beneath Ianto's chin, Jack exerted gentle pressure until Ianto lifted his head. "Try."
"I--I was angry, and frightened. I knew you were in trouble and that I had to stop whatever it was that was hurting you. Since it wasn't anything I could see or touch, I just--I guess I just--"
"Dropped a psychic bomb."
"I beg your pardon?" Ianto blinked at him. "A what?"
"Think about it, Ianto." Jack sat up straighter, warming to his theory. "The impact of your emotions literally fought off the attack. I heard it--heard something--and it was you, your mind, your feelings, your strength that saved me."
Ianto recoiled, unable to accept Jack's assessment. All he truly remembered was desperation and the fear that Jack was going to die. If that somehow combined into something forceful, some kind of weapon, he was unaware that he had such power.
"That seems unlikely. However," he looked up as rain began falling in earnest, finally driving off the aroma of spices that seemed to linger in the air. "I think we should leave this discussion until we get back to the Hall."
He stood up and extended his hand to Jack, who took it and allowed Ianto to help him to his feet. But once he was upright, he yanked Ianto into a crushing hug, swaying the two of them from side to side as he twisted his fists into the fabric of Ianto's jacket. Ianto returned the embrace, all other thoughts pushed aside as he let himself revel in the moment, a moment that had Jack alive and solid and safe in his arms.
"No more," Jack whispered against his ear. "No more."
~~~
Despite Ianto's best efforts to convince Jack otherwise, they were met on the mine's access road by Martha and Owen, the latter insisting on giving Ianto a quick examination on the spot. Sheltered beneath the boot lid of one of Torchwood's SUVs, Ianto sat patiently through having his blood pressure and pulse checked, even though he was far more interested in the conversation going on between Jack and Martha a few yards away--the conversation he couldn't hear.
Owen pulled off his stethoscope and draped it around his neck, then ripped the blood pressure cuff off of Ianto's arm. "Everything seems to be fine, although your blood pressure is a bit on the high side. Given the fact that Jack said you were dead, I'd say you've made a remarkable recovery."
"Jack is exaggerating, I wasn't dead," Ianto protested, though his heart wasn't in it. He glanced over at Jack and Martha, their heads bowed as they huddled under a tree. The rain had subsided to a light drizzle but with the weather still threatening, Ianto's most pressing desire was to return to the Hall. The vibration in his head wasn't fading even though they'd left the mine, so he wouldn't feel safe until it ceased altogether. "Actually, it was Jack who was injured, not me, though I gather he neglected to mention that part when he phoned Martha."
Owen paused in the midst of packing his gear. "Jack? Yes, as a matter of fact, he did. Oi! Jack!"
Jack nodded at Martha, then looked over at Owen. "What?"
"Ianto here says you were injured. Care to tell me about it?"
Jack scowled at Ianto as he and Martha approached the SUV. "No, not really." He held out his hands from his sides. "See? I'm all in one piece."
"As am I," Ianto pointed out, "yet I hesitate to mention you blacked out. Your words, not mine."
"Now, listen," Jack said, "let's not forget who--"
He stopped when Martha gave him a not-so-gentle slap to the back of his arm. "Is it true, Jack? Were you actually unconscious?"
"Well, okay, maybe for a minute--"
"That's it," Owen sighed, "take off your jacket, let's have a look at you."
Ianto stepped aside as Jack took his place on the bumper of the SUV, returning Jack's annoyed glance with a deliberately bland smile.
"You two seem to be finding more than your fair share of trouble." Owen wrapped the blood pressure cuff around Jack's arm. "Anyone care to explain why I'm more useful as a doctor than a camera man on this shoot?"
"Believe me," Jack said, "what happened today isn't my idea of fun, either."
"I don't suppose you have any idea how to avoid these mishaps in the future."
Ianto took a breath to reply but Jack spoke first. "As a matter of fact, I do." When Ianto looked at him, one eyebrow cocked, Jack amended his statement. "Unfortunately, the owner of the Hall refuses to take a year-long, 'round-the-world cruise with me, so instead, we're going to throw everything Torchwood Paranormal have at the music room tonight."
Hands in his pockets, Ianto frowned. "And what, exactly, does that mean?"
"On a typical shoot," Martha said, "we only use the equipment we've prepped, based on the sort of encounters we're expecting. However, we obviously weren't expecting anything like this."
"So, tonight," Jack pulled his jacket back on, "we've got a few tricks up our sleeve to try and get Adam to come out and play and, if we're lucky, we can convince him to find another house to occupy. Preferably a deserted one."
"Adam?" Owen asked. "Who the hell's Adam?"
"Is that wise?" Ianto directed his question to Martha. "We've already seen that Jack is vulnerable to Adam, why would we want to give him the opportunity to do more harm?"
"I'll ask again," Owen said, "purely for medical reasons. Who the hell is Adam?"
"It's the name we've assigned to the music room entity," Jack said. "Because it was better than hey, you."
"If you say so," Owen muttered.
"Are we done here?" Ianto glanced up at the sky. "If so, a lift back to the Hall would be very much appreciated."
Owen closed the boot and nodded. "Look, as far as I can tell, you're both fine, but that's not exactly what I'd call anything close to a proper examination. Frankly, if this had happened anywhere else or under any other circumstances, I'd say you both need to be taken to hospital immediately." He held up his hand, silencing Ianto and Jack as they started to protest. "That's just my opinion as a medical doctor, so no need to pay it any heed at all."
"Maybe Owen's right." Martha held out her right hand to Ianto, who took it in his left. "A quick trip into town isn't a bad idea."
Ianto gave her hand a squeeze. "Considering that Rhiannon is even now preparing what is sure to be an over-abundance of food, it would be better for everyone's health if we arrived before it goes cold."
~~~
Unsurprisingly, Ianto didn't have much of an appetite. On the ride back to Caernarfon Hall, he sat in the back seat beside Jack, his face turned toward the window, his thoughts on the hilltop and what he'd seen there, the annoying buzz behind his eyes causing a reoccurance of his headache. As scared as he'd been when Adam had taken Jack in thrall, it was nothing compared to the mind-blanking fear he'd felt when Jack went down to the dirt, his face a mask of unbearable pain. Never in his life had Ianto felt so helpless, so utterly terrified, and if what Jack surmised was true, that it was the strength and depth of those raw emotions that had stopped the attack, then it was an ability that Ianto did not want to ever use again in his lifetime.
Nor was he comfortable with the apparently random telepathy that he and Jack seemed to share. It struck him as odd that he'd lived his entire life without experiencing anything like it, yet every day revealed something new about his strengthening link to Jack--Jack, who could also talk to ghosts, communicate with Philip, and would probably leave Ianto broken-hearted in less than a week of their first meeting.
Something about his state of mind must have given him away, a sigh or expression, because Jack's warm hand wrapped around his own. He turned to look at Jack, only to find himself under observation, the worried frown between Jack's eyes a reminder that there may still be a reckoning for this day's adventure.
"I still feel it," Ianto murmured, keeping his voice low. "Do you?"
Jack looked thoughtful. "I feel something, but nothing like what I felt before. It's probably just a residual effect tied to the proximity of the mine."
Ianto shifted in his seat, away from the window, Jack's hand still gripping his own. "Does it make sense that you were attacked because you've had contact with Adam?"
"Not just contact," Jack said, his tone equally hushed, "but an invitation. Maybe the fact that Adam was friendly towards me pissed off whoever--whatever--is in the mines." He canted his shoulders, bringing him closer to Ianto. "Which makes me wonder if that's not where Adam and Philip came from."
"A copper mine?"
"Not the mine, but from whatever existed there before. Those prehistoric digs--maybe something was released, or set free, or escaped. I don't know, something like that."
Looking down at their clasped hands, Ianto considered Jack's theory. It was now more than possible that there was some correlation between the mine and the Hall, and would certainly explain the tenuous link they'd made when they'd found that scrap of newspaper, the clipping that Philip had led them to via Lucy.
"What are you thinking?" Jack whispered.
Ianto raised his gaze to Jack's eyes. "That I wish I could speak with Philip. So much of this could be answered if he would just come back."
"He will." Jack's grip tightened. "He's getting stronger, he'll come back to you, I promise."
Impulsively, Ianto leaned forward and pressed his mouth to Jack's. It was meant to be a quick kiss of gratitude for Jack's steadfast faith, but after a moment's hesitation, Jack was kissing him back, his hand coming up to cup Ianto's jaw, his fingers gentle against Ianto's cheek. It was a moment of re-connexion for them both, an affirmation that they were together in this and so much more.
"Hey, you two! Time and place, all right? Bad enough you've got mud all over Martha's seats."
The kiss wasn't meant to last, even without Owen's annoyed remark from the front passenger seat. They parted with a shared breath of laughter but remained close for the duration of the drive back to the Hall, fingers entwined.
By the time they pulled up to the Hall's front steps next to the other Torchwood vehicles, Ianto felt as though he'd regained his equilibrium enough to face his sister and the rest of the Torchwood crew, despite the vibration beneath his skin that he couldn't seem to shake. He and Jack had agreed that after lunch, they'd tell Torchwood everything that had occurred that morning save for the telepathy, and so he knew that Rhiannon would be upset, no matter how much they downplayed what actually happened near the mine. It wasn't in his nature to share his problems, but it was obvious that it would take a team effort to save the Hall now.
Climbing out of the SUV, Ianto pulled the straps of the rucksack onto his shoulder and gazed up at the lowering sky. The temperature was dropping and though it was too early in the season for snow, the air had a snap to it that told him the last of the autumn warmth had passed. He took a few steps onto the grass as Owen and Martha went up the stairs and into the Hall, then turned to say something to Jack, who'd come around from the other side. But whatever it was he meant to say was lost when he was suddenly caught up in a strong, cedar-scented wind that swirled around him and rushed over his senses like a drenching rain, rooting him to the spot.
The rucksack slid unnoticed off his shoulder and he closed his eyes, every part of him soaring as Philip wrapped his presence all around him. He could feel Philip's soothing touch on his skin, there were purple sparkles dancing on his eyelids, and the familiar, fresh scent that meant so much--home, love, safety--filled every sense so completely that Ianto forgot his surroundings and gave himself up to the moment without hesitation.
It was the joyous reunion Ianto had prayed for, made all the sweeter by the evidence he felt of Philip's returning strength. At first unable to form a thought beyond happy incoherence, he finally was able to piece together a question, no less important for being silent.
"Are you all right?"
The breeze around him convulsed with amusement. Eyes still closed, Ianto smiled at the reaction, since it spoke to Philip's opinion of Ianto's priorities and that was itself an answer. But beyond Philip's joy at being reunited with Ianto, there was an underlying emotion of urgency in his touch, so strong that Ianto wondered if he'd somehow been marked by what had happened at the mine and Philip was determined to find it. He waited patiently as Philip checked him over, then breathed a sigh of relief when Philip's mood changed to one of triumph, as if he'd been held captive and was suddenly free.
Ianto didn't know how long the moment lasted, he only knew when Philip receded, and he opened his eyes just in time to see Philip rolling back into his familiar, lavender-tinted sphere as he retreated toward the Hall, trailing the scent of mown grass. Ianto watched, entranced and relieved, as Philip wafted through the wall beside the large front doors, then he laughed out loud when Philip popped back out and blew a fountain of iridescent sparkles in Ianto's direction before disappearing completely.
"See? I told you he'd be back."
Ianto whirled to see Jack standing by the boot of the SUV with a wide grin on his face. He had a fading patch of lavender sparkles on the shoulder of his jacket and when Jack saw Ianto glance at them, he followed Ianto's gaze and then nodded.
"Yeah, I got a quick once-over by your friend, too." He grinned at Ianto, then reached out and pulled him into his arms, hugging him hard and lifting him off his feet. "Didn't I tell you it'd be okay?"
Laughing as he regained his footing, Ianto gave Jack a playful shove. "Are you always this obnoxious when you're proven right?"
Jack tugged at his ear as he pretended to consider the question, then nodded. "Yeah, pretty much."
"Yet another fact about you to file away for future reference. Let's go inside, I want to see if I can talk to Rhiannon before--"
He was interrupted by the ringing of Jack's mobile, unfortunately in the Queen ring tone he'd apparently assigned to John Hart. Jack rolled his eyes and pulled the phone out of his pocket but didn't answer it right away, instead giving Ianto a look of wry apology.
"I know," Ianto said as he picked up the rucksack, "it's better to take it than ignore him. I'll see you inside."
John Hart's intrusion was annoying but did little to dent Ianto's buoyant mood, especially when Lucy greeted him on the steps, tailing wagging furiously. Entering the Hall with her loping along beside him, he made an immediate turn into the dining room and after a quick greeting to Tosh and Andy taking tea at the table, he went into the kitchen in search of Rhiannon. Philip was nearby, a subtle presence to be sure, but as solid and comforting as he'd ever been, almost as though he'd never been lost. Ianto knew he needed time alone with Philip to fully understand what had changed, but for now, he was content to have Philip home.
He found Rhiannon at the family table, looking remarkably calm as she reviewed her menu, pencil in hand and a cup of tea at her elbow. Behind her, platters of food covered every available surface, and the aromas coming from them awakened Ianto's flagging appetite.
Rhiannon looked up as Ianto took the chair beside her, setting aside her pencil. "There you are, love. Martha called and said you'd taken a tumble, but aside from the mud on your clothes, you look all in one piece. Everything all right?"
Bless Martha for playing down the reason she and Owen had been called out to the mine. That must've been Jack's forethought, and it served Ianto well, not to have to make uncomfortable confessions and also explaining Rhiannon's attitude now. This way, he could tell his sister the truth and also present the undeniable proof that he was unharmed.
"Actually, it wasn't much more than a tumble, but, well--you remember me telling you about the ghosts?"
Rhiannon's frown was more absent-minded than worried. "Your brother telling you your childhood home is crawling with invisible beasties isn't exactly something you're likely to forget, you know."
"Well, we--Jack and I--think there are more of them, or something like them, out at the mine. And they weren't too keen on visitors, apparently."
"Oh?" Rhiannon's eyes narrowed. "What happened?"
"They attacked Jack."
"Attacked him? Oh, my God, is he all right?"
"He's fine, he's perfectly fine, it didn't last long and I think they were just trying to scare us off." A slight deviation from the truth, but Ianto's aim was to reassure his sister, not alarm her.
"Oh? And how did they do that?"
"It's rather hard to explain, actually. You see, it wasn't a physical attack so much as it was--as it was--"
"Yes?"
Ianto ran his hand through his hair as he realised this was much harder to explain than he'd expected. But he was committed to remaining truthful to Rhiannon, and he could only hope that he she would continue to be as accepting as she'd been so far.
"Jack thinks--" that's it, blame it on Jack --"that it was like a psychic attack."
Rhiannon crossed her arms as she leaned back in her chair. "Right. Go on."
"Yes, a psychic attack, you see and--listen, will you just trust me on this? I don't have it all quite sorted out myself. But Jack's fine, I'm fine, no harm done."
"And the likelihood that this is the same kind of thing that happened to you in the music room?"
Ianto shrugged. "Strong. That's why we have to have Torchwood complete their investigation. Tonight, if possible. The sooner we resolve the issue in the music room, the sooner we can begin booking the Hall for guests again."
Rhiannon lifted her tea cup to her lips and took a quick sip, grimacing when she found its contents had gone cold. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves," she murmured. When Ianto frowned at her, she continued. "Listen, if you say you and Jack haven't been injured and Owen is satisfied, I'll leave it for now." She picked up her pencil and pointed it at him. "And don't think I won't ask him, either."
Ianto nodded, relief flowing through him at this reprieve. He knew something was bothering Rhiannon but before he could pursue the subject, she changed it.
"So," she said with a teasing smile, "other than being attacked by ghosts, how was your walk?"
"Um, well," Ianto looked down at the table to hide his smile, "it was informative."
"Informative? Ghosts or no ghosts, you're out on a walk with a good-looking bloke and all you have to say is that it was informative? Honestly, Ianto, you need to get out more. In fact, I was wondering," she added with a patently false expression of innocence, "d'you think you and Jack are, well, you know?"
She made a vague circle with her hand and Ianto shook his head. "Sorry, not following."
"Well, it's obvious the two of you are head over heels for each other. If he asks you to go to London, will you go?"
Though it hurt to say it, Ianto's answer was immediate. "No, I can't leave the Hall, or you. Not for the foreseeable future, at any rate."
"Hmm," Rhiannon grunted, then slapped the table. "The future may be coming sooner than any of us think." She rose to her feet and gave Ianto a critical look. "You'd best go change out of those muddy clothes and make it quick, we'll be serving a lot of food as soon as Annie gets here and I'm going to need you."
"What do you--"
Ianto was interrupted by a soft knock, followed by the appearance of Andy coming through the swinging doors, bearing an empty plate.
"I hope you don't mind the intrusion," Andy said, "but Tosh was wondering if there were any more of those chocolate biscuits."
"Tosh, is it?" Rhiannon said. "Such a big appetite she has," she added with a wink.
The tips of Andy's ears turned pink. "They're very good," he stammered, "you should think of selling them."
Ianto got to his feet, curious about Rhiannon's vague warning but choosing not to pursue it just then. He'd done a half-arsed job of telling her what happened at the mine, but once she was satisfied that no one had been injured, her mind had gone on to other problems, not the least of which must've been the meal she was about to serve. Annie, their part-time server, arrived through the back door just as Rhiannon was admonishing Andy not to ruin his appetite while slipping him a few more biscuits, so Ianto left them to change into a proper suit before returning to set the table and sideboard.
It was as he was knotting his tie that he realised that the subliminal buzzing in his head had stopped some time ago. He met his own gaze in the mirror, the expression he found there perfectly reflecting his own confusion. If there was some significance to both its presence and absence that he was missing, he could discuss it later with Jack.
By the time Jack joined the rest of his team in the dining room, having changed into clean clothes like Ianto, everyone else was already on the first course. The noise level was high and everyone seemed to be in a good mood--everyone except Jack, who took his seat at the head of the table with only a tight nod in Ianto's direction. Assuming that Jack was troubled by his phone call with John, Ianto made a point of resting his hand briefly on Jack's shoulder as he served him, a gesture rewarded when Jack lifted his own hand to grip Ianto's fingers in a brief, centring touch.
And above it all, hovering in the corner like an indulgent uncle, was Philip. His presence was as warm as it'd ever been, and under different circumstances, Ianto would have excused himself from the service and invited Philip into a private conversation in his office.
But it would have to wait. Jack was looking more discouraged with each passing moment and Rhiannon, though efficient as usual, also seemed distracted. It had become a tradition for Ianto and Rhiannon to join the crew once all the food was served but today she begged off, saying she was going to take food out to the security van. Annie was too shy to join the others, so Ianto ended up taking a seat at the table between Rhys and Tosh, though his appetite, regained upon reuniting with Philip, had again faded in reaction to Jack's obvious distress and Rhiannon's preoccupation.
If the rest of the Torchwood team noticed Jack's disquietude, they made no mention of it. And to be fair, Jack was doing his best to hide it, but Ianto watched him too closely to miss the worried expression that crept into Jack's eyes when he wasn't conversing with his team mates. It was one more black mark against John Hart, that he could so easily turn Jack's mood from playful and joyous at Philip's return to one of dark contemplation.
All this was going on inside Ianto's head as he spoke with the others at the table, rising often to refill a platter or a glass. He even flirted a bit with Tosh, both of them knowing it was all in fun. That was the only thing to really catch Jack's attention, as Ianto looked up to see him watching them with a knowing, amused glint in his eye. All in all, it was a successful meal, especially after Andy talked Rhiannon into joining them for pudding.
But once those plates were removed and fresh coffee and tea distributed--along with a tray of biscuits near Andy's elbow--Jack brought all eyes at the table to him with the quiet clearing of his throat.
"As of last night's shoot, we're temporarily shutting down principal photography for this episode of Torchwood Paranormal."
"Really?" Gwen looked around the table. "But there's so much more here. Right, Ianto?"
Ianto shared a glance with Jack. "You've probably gotten the best of it. I've shown you all the primary haunting spaces on the property."
"Besides," Jack said, "we have another job to do."
"Another job?" Rhys crossed his arms over his chest. "That's it, we're going straight to another shoot? When did we sign on for that?"
"No. I've asked permission--and Martha has agreed, pending everyone's agreement--that we conduct another investigation of the music room. We'll film it, but not for public viewing, strictly for research."
"Research?" Gwen asked. "I don't understand."
Jack leaned forward, wrapping his hands around his coffee mug. "There's no doubt that Caernarfon Hall is haunted by traditional spirits. But as I said before, the entity in the music room--"
"Adam, if anyone's curious," Owen muttered.
"Is not a traditional ghost. Neither is the other main entity living here in the house."
"Yeah, who is that?" Andy asked. "We haven't talked about him much, have we?"
"Philip." Ianto looked down at his hands. "His name is Philip."
"And he's one of the good guys," Jack said. "He's the one that came in and broke the control that Adam had over me in the music room."
"Yeah, on the night you were attacked. Listen, Jack," Gwen pushed her hair behind her ears, "Torchwood Paranormal is a television programme about hunting ghosts, not an actual group of scientists studying paranormal activity. We do this for entertainment, not science, and after what happened to you and Ianto, don't you think we should leave this to the professionals?"
There was a brief silence around the table and Ianto exchanged a worried look with Rhiannon. Gwen's suggestion was perfectly understandable under the circumstances, especially given that they all had proof that Adam was a threat. He even managed to return Gwen's apologetic smile with a brief one of his own, telling her silently that he understood her reasoning.
"Agreed," Jack said. "But Rhiannon and Ianto have neither the time nor the resources to hire a group of scientists to investigate the music room. In fact," Ianto gave him a nod, knowing what was coming next, "the Hall is in dire financial straits, which is why I'm asking all of you to volunteer your time and talents now."
"Well, count me in," Martha said promptly. "We're the ones who stirred things up in the first place, so it's our responsibility to see it sorted."
"You don't know that," Rhys argued. "Maybe that thing up there was preparing to get nasty and we just happened along at the right time."
"No," Jack said, "it's us. More specifically, it's me. That's why I'm only asking for volunteers and anyone who's not interested can leave for London this afternoon without prejudice. And before anyone asks," he added, "base salaries will be covered, and some expenses too, if necessary. I'm asking for volunteers because we're using equipment and resources without the blessing of the production company, and that could get us into trouble. But I'm not asking anyone to work for free."
"Of course," Rhiannon said, "it might be of interest to some of you that this also includes a continuation of the catering agreement."
"Right," Andy said, "I'm in. Oh, don't everyone look at me like that, I was in before anyone mentioned food."
Ianto hid a smile behind his hand, relieved that at least one of the Torchwood crew besides Jack and Martha was ready to help. He wasn't surprised when Toshiko chimed in and offered her services, followed by Gwen and Rhys after they held a brief, private discussion. The only one left after that was Owen, who when asked directly by Jack if he was going to participate, merely shrugged.
"Why not?" He reached past Andy and snagged a biscuit from the plate. "Of course I'm expecting tonight to be a proper cock-up, but someone's going to need to put the pieces back together, may as well be me."
"Thank you," Jack said, "Everyone, thank you. It means a lot to me."
"And to us." Rhiannon rose to her feet. "But I won't tolerate anyone getting hurt over this, d'you hear me?"
After giving everyone a glare, she returned to the kitchen to a chorus of yes, ma'ams, leaving Ianto with the Torchwood crew and Philip. But it wasn't until he looked up to Philip's resting place in the corner above the sideboard that he realised that there was someone he'd neglected to consult and from the looks of it, wasn't on board with the plan to visit the music room again.
Technical conversation regarding the upcoming investigation swirled around him, but Ianto was concentrating too hard on Philip to pay much attention. Philip's colours had deepened from their normal lavender to a flat, unreadable grey, his amorphous shape also having changed into an almost perfect, hard-edged circle. Ianto silently reached out to him and Philip reached back, his touch reassuring but stern, telling Ianto that Philip didn't want them confronting Adam but that his doubts were out of concern, not anger.
Ianto understood. Oh, he understood all too well. Adam was a serious threat not only to the Hall but to Philip and Jack, and Ianto had no intention of risking either of them. Jack would be safe in the comm van, but there was no way to protect Philip from Adam--or from Philip making a choice that Ianto couldn't live with.
Someone must have asked Ianto a question. The room had gone silent and everyone was looking at him, including Jack, whose compassionate expression told Ianto that he too, was worried about Philip and the struggle that awaited them.
"I'm sorry," Ianto said, "what were we talking about?"
"Start time," Jack said. "We were trying to work out a timeline for the rest of the day. When do you think we should begin the investigation?"
Ianto swallowed before answering, the reality of what lay ahead momentarily robbing him of breath. "There's nothing holding us back from starting right now, actually."
"Well, yes, there is." Tosh looked up from her notepad. "We'll need time to set up properly and since no one's been in the music room lately, at the very least, we've got loads of sound and light checks to do."
"Right, that's your department, so you and the boys can work on that this afternoon," Jack looked directly at Ianto, "since neither Ianto nor I will be getting any closer to the music room than the hallway."
"What about me?" Gwen asked. "If this isn't for an actual episode, then that makes me odd man out, doesn't it?"
Rhys took her hand and gave it a squeeze. "Ever fancy being a roadie?"
***
It was late afternoon when Ianto finally allowed himself to retreat to his office. He'd helped Rhiannon and Annie with the massive clean-up and just when Ianto thought they'd finished, Rhiannon had given him a rundown of the food she'd prepared for a light meal that evening, along with a list of instructions. Her Sunday afternoons were always spent at home with Johnny and Ianto saw no reason to change her schedule, even though she offered to come back during the investigation. He loved her for her willingness, but having her safe at home was one less thing he had to worry about.
The basics of the installation concluded under his supervision, Jack had excused the team with the admonition to get some rest before returning to the Hall and beginning the night's activities. Then he'd disappeared, but Ianto was fairly sure he hadn't gone back to town with the crew. Given his mood after John Hart's call, he'd probably wanted some time to himself, which left Ianto free to take a seat at his desk and wait for Philip to show up.
It didn't take long. Ianto felt his presence before he actually appeared, and he closed his eyes to simply live in the comforting sensation as Philip coalesced. But in that moment, those few brief seconds, with no other input than Philip's presence gathering around him, Ianto knew things had irrevocably changed.
Opening his eyes on a painful gasp, he found Philip hovering in front of him, his familiar spheroid shape undulating silently above Ianto's desk. Sharing their non-verbal communication, Ianto was nearly overwhelmed with the feeling of heart-breaking regret that emanated from Philip, a feeling that pressed against Ianto's chest and brought unexpected tears to his eyes.
"What's happening?" he whispered. He blinked back the moisture and leaned forward. "You're back, you're safe, we're going to defeat Adam and things will return to the way they were." He swallowed, running his tongue along suddenly dry lips. "Won't they?"
He asked the question, already knowing the answer, already feeling his heart being torn asunder as he heard Philip's tender, firm reply that was devastating in its simplicity. No, came the response, the word floating on the air between them on a grass-scented air current yet striking Ianto like a closed fist. Confused, his throat tightening, Ianto surged to his feet so quickly the chair hit the wall behind him.
"Why not?" Even to his own ears, he sounded like a forlorn, confused child.
At first, it seemed that Philip wasn't going to answer. He gave Ianto no indication of his thoughts, but subtly, slowly, his colour began to fade. Ianto watched transfixed as Philip paled to the lightest pearl, only the distortion caused by his wavering edges giving his form any delineation. There was no sensation of pain, no indication that this transformation was in any way harming Philip, but at the same time, Ianto was experiencing the return of the vibration that had accompanied him home from the mine. Wincing as the shaking increased, it took him a moment to understand that this time it wasn't coming from within himself--it was coming from Philip.
Or rather, from what Philip was revealing as he became entirely translucent. In the midst of his being, cradled within his softly glowing shape, was a smaller sphere, this one a warm copper colour that appeared lit from within. As its colour intensified, the vibration Ianto was experiencing lessened until it was gone altogether, and it was only then that Ianto picked up on the delicate aroma of warm spice that wove around the room and underscored Philip's green, fresh scent.
"I don't understand," Ianto muttered, but as soon as he said the words, he knew that wasn't exactly true. Either instinctively or with Philip's aid, he did understand that the copper orb was its own entity, somehow transported to the Hall. Whether Ianto had hosted the new being--he didn't think so, since he knew what that felt like--or it had somehow come along for the ride through unknown means, it was definitely from the mine. Its scent, the warm, spicy aroma Ianto first encountered on the hilltop, was as unique a signature as Philip's scent of freshly cut cedar and Adam's darker odour of acrid decay.
Philip began turning opaque, hiding the entity within him as the aroma in the room faded. Ianto waited, unsure how to proceed now that it wasn't just Philip he was dealing with. Part of him was intrigued by the new arrival, part of him was concerned how the balance of things with Adam would change--but all of him was still reeling at the revelation that the special relationship he'd shared with Philip was forever altered.
It was devastating but undeniable. Whatever the newcomer's role was in the unfolding drama of Caernarfon Hall, its mere existence presaged a change to the dynamic between Philip and Ianto, even more than the awakening of Adam had threatened it. The link with Philip was still there, and so was the unwavering love, but it was obvious that things between them would never be the same.
Ianto had so many questions but now, he found himself almost afraid to ask them. All his life, he'd thought of Philip as his companion, a spectre unlike the others at the Hall but not so different that he hadn't accepted him for whatever he truly was. And whatever he was, Ianto had always assumed he was one of a kind, so finding that Adam was similar to him had been a shock.
And now there was another, this unknown being--at least unknown to Ianto. But from Philip he received the strong impression that not only was the copper entity known to Philip, it was treasured by him, as well. There was a new tenderness in his demeanour, though Ianto couldn't quite define it. Parent to child or lover to lover, it was difficult to tell, but through the ties that connected them, Ianto understood that Philip cared for this newcomer, cared deeply, and the truth behind that knowledge broke Ianto's heart just a little bit more. To have known that a beloved was so close and yet be unable to touch them was a fate no one deserved.
Angrily blinking away fresh tears for Philip's loneliness as well as his own crippling sense of impending loss, Ianto loosened the knot of his tie and stripped it off his neck.
"Right, then," he sighed, "where do we start?
Thump, thump, thump, thump
"Stop."
Thump, thump, thump, thump
"Jack, stop!"
Thump, thump--
"Jack!"
Ianto curled his fingers around Jack's wrists, shoving them aside to stop the compressions. As Jack fell back, Ianto rolled to his side and coughed, then continued moving until he was on his hands and knees. He felt a little light-headed but before he could take a deep breath, Jack was beside him once more, wrapping his arms around Ianto's shoulders and pulling him against his chest.
"Ianto! God, Ianto, don't move, okay? I'm going to get help."
Ianto squirmed around in Jack's embrace, struggling against his grip until they were face to face and he could put his hands on Jack's arms.
"Jack, listen to me, I'm fine. Jack?" Jack's eyes were wide as he searched Ianto's face and although Ianto wasn't sure if "fine" was an accurate description, judging from Jack's panicked expression, he knew that he was moving, he was breathing, and nothing seemed broken. More importantly, whatever had been hurting Jack had ceased. The deep, pounding vibrations had subsided, though Ianto could still feel a subliminal hum in his mind. "Jack? Can you hear me?"
If Jack could actually hear Ianto speaking, he gave no indication. He curved one hand around Ianto's neck, drawing him close until their foreheads touched as he dug something out of his pocket. Sensing the movement, Ianto moved back far enough to see that Jack had his mobile in his hand.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
Jack's attention was on his phone. "I'm calling for help," he muttered. He looked up at Ianto. "Don't worry, I'm going to get us out of here, you're going to be okay, I promise."
Ianto frowned at him. "Of course we are. Jack, wait." He grabbed the phone from Jack's hand and set it aside, out of Jack's reach. "Jack, listen to me, I'm okay, I'm fine." A sudden, horrifying thought occurred to him. "Oh, God, Jack, is it you? Do you need a doctor?" He ran his hands down Jack's arms, searching for injury. "Are you hurt? I thought I stopped it in time!"
The panic in Jack's eyes finally began to clear, quickly replaced by confusion and anger. Ianto lifted one hand to touch Jack's face, a tentative gesture to soothe and comfort, but Jack flinched away, eyes narrowing.
"No." Jack wiped his mouth with the side of his hand, and that's when Ianto noticed that his fingers were shaking. He scooted away until they were facing each other, sitting in dirt that was rapidly turning to mud.
"Then why were you calling--"
"You were dead, Ianto!" Jack's voice cracked as he rubbed his face with both hands, but when he looked up, Ianto was shocked to see moisture clouding his blue eyes, turning them as grey as the sky above them. "Do you hear me? Do you get it? Dead!"
Ianto didn't know what to say. He certainly didn't feel as though he'd been dead--in fact, aside from a slight headache and a buzzing sensation sliding along his nerves, he felt normal. It was Jack he was worried about, Jack who'd been writhing in pain only a few short minutes ago.
"I don't think so," he murmured.
"Oh, really? No, trust me, I was there. You didn't have a heartbeat."
"For how long?"
"What?" Jack scraped his fingers through his damp hair, disarranging it. "How long what?"
"Did I not have a heartbeat."
"I don't know--does it matter? I checked for a pulse, you didn't have one, I started CPR and the next thing I know, you're pushing me off."
Ianto tugged at his bottom lip, eyes on the horizon. "Not too long, then."
Suddenly Jack was on the move, kneeling in front of Ianto and framing his face between his palms. "This has to stop, Ianto. This has to stop now. When I looked up, and you were--" Jack looked away, eyelashes resting on his cheeks. "No more," he finished firmly. "This ends today."
Ianto's fingers closed around Jack's wrists, though this time he did not push Jack away. "I'd like nothing more," he whispered. "Nothing. But all we have is more proof that you are the one at risk here, not me."
Jack shook off Ianto's hands and leaned back. "And how do you figure that?"
"Don't you remember? You were attacked."
Whatever Jack was expecting Ianto to say, that wasn't it. Some deep emotion flared deep in Jack's eyes as he stared at Ianto, fists resting on his thighs.
"Yeah, let's try that again, because you know damn well that's not what's important here."
"It is to me," Ianto snapped. A wave of dizziness washed over him as the improbable scent of cloves and cinnamon filled his nostrils, accompanied by an intensifying of the vibration. He closed his eyes and coughed, then lowered his head to try and get his balance. Jack was beside him in an instant, pulling him into a loose embrace, and Ianto let his head rest on Jack's shoulder. That sat there together for a few minutes as Ianto regained his breath and the buzzing faded a bit, then he gently pushed Jack's arms away. Jack didn't move far, merely shifting his legs beneath him as he regarded Ianto through eyes filled with concern.
"So, we're back at square one," Jack said with a short smile.
Ianto's smile in return was just as brief. "Apparently."
"Let's try this again." Jack's tone was deceptively calm. "Give me the short version of what just happened."
"The short version?"
"Yes, the short version, because in two minutes I'm going to call Owen and I need to know what to tell him."
Ianto started to protest but held back. At this moment, Jack appeared all too ready to bring down every emergency service in Wales on their heads, so he took Jack's statement as compromise. He settled himself a little further away from Jack, his arms wrapped around his knees.
"Not exactly sure, to be honest. I remember the sounds, and the vibrations getting worse, and then you were on the ground." He shook his head as he recalled his anguish at seeing Jack--indomitable, unconquerable Jack Harkness--felled by an unseen enemy. "You were right, it was something coming from the mine, something that bypassed me and attacked you directly."
"Okay, I'm with you so far. Unfortunately, it got so bad I blacked out. What happened next?"
Ianto lowered his eyes. "I'm not sure I can put it into words."
Tucking two curled fingers beneath Ianto's chin, Jack exerted gentle pressure until Ianto lifted his head. "Try."
"I--I was angry, and frightened. I knew you were in trouble and that I had to stop whatever it was that was hurting you. Since it wasn't anything I could see or touch, I just--I guess I just--"
"Dropped a psychic bomb."
"I beg your pardon?" Ianto blinked at him. "A what?"
"Think about it, Ianto." Jack sat up straighter, warming to his theory. "The impact of your emotions literally fought off the attack. I heard it--heard something--and it was you, your mind, your feelings, your strength that saved me."
Ianto recoiled, unable to accept Jack's assessment. All he truly remembered was desperation and the fear that Jack was going to die. If that somehow combined into something forceful, some kind of weapon, he was unaware that he had such power.
"That seems unlikely. However," he looked up as rain began falling in earnest, finally driving off the aroma of spices that seemed to linger in the air. "I think we should leave this discussion until we get back to the Hall."
He stood up and extended his hand to Jack, who took it and allowed Ianto to help him to his feet. But once he was upright, he yanked Ianto into a crushing hug, swaying the two of them from side to side as he twisted his fists into the fabric of Ianto's jacket. Ianto returned the embrace, all other thoughts pushed aside as he let himself revel in the moment, a moment that had Jack alive and solid and safe in his arms.
"No more," Jack whispered against his ear. "No more."
~~~
Despite Ianto's best efforts to convince Jack otherwise, they were met on the mine's access road by Martha and Owen, the latter insisting on giving Ianto a quick examination on the spot. Sheltered beneath the boot lid of one of Torchwood's SUVs, Ianto sat patiently through having his blood pressure and pulse checked, even though he was far more interested in the conversation going on between Jack and Martha a few yards away--the conversation he couldn't hear.
Owen pulled off his stethoscope and draped it around his neck, then ripped the blood pressure cuff off of Ianto's arm. "Everything seems to be fine, although your blood pressure is a bit on the high side. Given the fact that Jack said you were dead, I'd say you've made a remarkable recovery."
"Jack is exaggerating, I wasn't dead," Ianto protested, though his heart wasn't in it. He glanced over at Jack and Martha, their heads bowed as they huddled under a tree. The rain had subsided to a light drizzle but with the weather still threatening, Ianto's most pressing desire was to return to the Hall. The vibration in his head wasn't fading even though they'd left the mine, so he wouldn't feel safe until it ceased altogether. "Actually, it was Jack who was injured, not me, though I gather he neglected to mention that part when he phoned Martha."
Owen paused in the midst of packing his gear. "Jack? Yes, as a matter of fact, he did. Oi! Jack!"
Jack nodded at Martha, then looked over at Owen. "What?"
"Ianto here says you were injured. Care to tell me about it?"
Jack scowled at Ianto as he and Martha approached the SUV. "No, not really." He held out his hands from his sides. "See? I'm all in one piece."
"As am I," Ianto pointed out, "yet I hesitate to mention you blacked out. Your words, not mine."
"Now, listen," Jack said, "let's not forget who--"
He stopped when Martha gave him a not-so-gentle slap to the back of his arm. "Is it true, Jack? Were you actually unconscious?"
"Well, okay, maybe for a minute--"
"That's it," Owen sighed, "take off your jacket, let's have a look at you."
Ianto stepped aside as Jack took his place on the bumper of the SUV, returning Jack's annoyed glance with a deliberately bland smile.
"You two seem to be finding more than your fair share of trouble." Owen wrapped the blood pressure cuff around Jack's arm. "Anyone care to explain why I'm more useful as a doctor than a camera man on this shoot?"
"Believe me," Jack said, "what happened today isn't my idea of fun, either."
"I don't suppose you have any idea how to avoid these mishaps in the future."
Ianto took a breath to reply but Jack spoke first. "As a matter of fact, I do." When Ianto looked at him, one eyebrow cocked, Jack amended his statement. "Unfortunately, the owner of the Hall refuses to take a year-long, 'round-the-world cruise with me, so instead, we're going to throw everything Torchwood Paranormal have at the music room tonight."
Hands in his pockets, Ianto frowned. "And what, exactly, does that mean?"
"On a typical shoot," Martha said, "we only use the equipment we've prepped, based on the sort of encounters we're expecting. However, we obviously weren't expecting anything like this."
"So, tonight," Jack pulled his jacket back on, "we've got a few tricks up our sleeve to try and get Adam to come out and play and, if we're lucky, we can convince him to find another house to occupy. Preferably a deserted one."
"Adam?" Owen asked. "Who the hell's Adam?"
"Is that wise?" Ianto directed his question to Martha. "We've already seen that Jack is vulnerable to Adam, why would we want to give him the opportunity to do more harm?"
"I'll ask again," Owen said, "purely for medical reasons. Who the hell is Adam?"
"It's the name we've assigned to the music room entity," Jack said. "Because it was better than hey, you."
"If you say so," Owen muttered.
"Are we done here?" Ianto glanced up at the sky. "If so, a lift back to the Hall would be very much appreciated."
Owen closed the boot and nodded. "Look, as far as I can tell, you're both fine, but that's not exactly what I'd call anything close to a proper examination. Frankly, if this had happened anywhere else or under any other circumstances, I'd say you both need to be taken to hospital immediately." He held up his hand, silencing Ianto and Jack as they started to protest. "That's just my opinion as a medical doctor, so no need to pay it any heed at all."
"Maybe Owen's right." Martha held out her right hand to Ianto, who took it in his left. "A quick trip into town isn't a bad idea."
Ianto gave her hand a squeeze. "Considering that Rhiannon is even now preparing what is sure to be an over-abundance of food, it would be better for everyone's health if we arrived before it goes cold."
~~~
Unsurprisingly, Ianto didn't have much of an appetite. On the ride back to Caernarfon Hall, he sat in the back seat beside Jack, his face turned toward the window, his thoughts on the hilltop and what he'd seen there, the annoying buzz behind his eyes causing a reoccurance of his headache. As scared as he'd been when Adam had taken Jack in thrall, it was nothing compared to the mind-blanking fear he'd felt when Jack went down to the dirt, his face a mask of unbearable pain. Never in his life had Ianto felt so helpless, so utterly terrified, and if what Jack surmised was true, that it was the strength and depth of those raw emotions that had stopped the attack, then it was an ability that Ianto did not want to ever use again in his lifetime.
Nor was he comfortable with the apparently random telepathy that he and Jack seemed to share. It struck him as odd that he'd lived his entire life without experiencing anything like it, yet every day revealed something new about his strengthening link to Jack--Jack, who could also talk to ghosts, communicate with Philip, and would probably leave Ianto broken-hearted in less than a week of their first meeting.
Something about his state of mind must have given him away, a sigh or expression, because Jack's warm hand wrapped around his own. He turned to look at Jack, only to find himself under observation, the worried frown between Jack's eyes a reminder that there may still be a reckoning for this day's adventure.
"I still feel it," Ianto murmured, keeping his voice low. "Do you?"
Jack looked thoughtful. "I feel something, but nothing like what I felt before. It's probably just a residual effect tied to the proximity of the mine."
Ianto shifted in his seat, away from the window, Jack's hand still gripping his own. "Does it make sense that you were attacked because you've had contact with Adam?"
"Not just contact," Jack said, his tone equally hushed, "but an invitation. Maybe the fact that Adam was friendly towards me pissed off whoever--whatever--is in the mines." He canted his shoulders, bringing him closer to Ianto. "Which makes me wonder if that's not where Adam and Philip came from."
"A copper mine?"
"Not the mine, but from whatever existed there before. Those prehistoric digs--maybe something was released, or set free, or escaped. I don't know, something like that."
Looking down at their clasped hands, Ianto considered Jack's theory. It was now more than possible that there was some correlation between the mine and the Hall, and would certainly explain the tenuous link they'd made when they'd found that scrap of newspaper, the clipping that Philip had led them to via Lucy.
"What are you thinking?" Jack whispered.
Ianto raised his gaze to Jack's eyes. "That I wish I could speak with Philip. So much of this could be answered if he would just come back."
"He will." Jack's grip tightened. "He's getting stronger, he'll come back to you, I promise."
Impulsively, Ianto leaned forward and pressed his mouth to Jack's. It was meant to be a quick kiss of gratitude for Jack's steadfast faith, but after a moment's hesitation, Jack was kissing him back, his hand coming up to cup Ianto's jaw, his fingers gentle against Ianto's cheek. It was a moment of re-connexion for them both, an affirmation that they were together in this and so much more.
"Hey, you two! Time and place, all right? Bad enough you've got mud all over Martha's seats."
The kiss wasn't meant to last, even without Owen's annoyed remark from the front passenger seat. They parted with a shared breath of laughter but remained close for the duration of the drive back to the Hall, fingers entwined.
By the time they pulled up to the Hall's front steps next to the other Torchwood vehicles, Ianto felt as though he'd regained his equilibrium enough to face his sister and the rest of the Torchwood crew, despite the vibration beneath his skin that he couldn't seem to shake. He and Jack had agreed that after lunch, they'd tell Torchwood everything that had occurred that morning save for the telepathy, and so he knew that Rhiannon would be upset, no matter how much they downplayed what actually happened near the mine. It wasn't in his nature to share his problems, but it was obvious that it would take a team effort to save the Hall now.
Climbing out of the SUV, Ianto pulled the straps of the rucksack onto his shoulder and gazed up at the lowering sky. The temperature was dropping and though it was too early in the season for snow, the air had a snap to it that told him the last of the autumn warmth had passed. He took a few steps onto the grass as Owen and Martha went up the stairs and into the Hall, then turned to say something to Jack, who'd come around from the other side. But whatever it was he meant to say was lost when he was suddenly caught up in a strong, cedar-scented wind that swirled around him and rushed over his senses like a drenching rain, rooting him to the spot.
The rucksack slid unnoticed off his shoulder and he closed his eyes, every part of him soaring as Philip wrapped his presence all around him. He could feel Philip's soothing touch on his skin, there were purple sparkles dancing on his eyelids, and the familiar, fresh scent that meant so much--home, love, safety--filled every sense so completely that Ianto forgot his surroundings and gave himself up to the moment without hesitation.
It was the joyous reunion Ianto had prayed for, made all the sweeter by the evidence he felt of Philip's returning strength. At first unable to form a thought beyond happy incoherence, he finally was able to piece together a question, no less important for being silent.
"Are you all right?"
The breeze around him convulsed with amusement. Eyes still closed, Ianto smiled at the reaction, since it spoke to Philip's opinion of Ianto's priorities and that was itself an answer. But beyond Philip's joy at being reunited with Ianto, there was an underlying emotion of urgency in his touch, so strong that Ianto wondered if he'd somehow been marked by what had happened at the mine and Philip was determined to find it. He waited patiently as Philip checked him over, then breathed a sigh of relief when Philip's mood changed to one of triumph, as if he'd been held captive and was suddenly free.
Ianto didn't know how long the moment lasted, he only knew when Philip receded, and he opened his eyes just in time to see Philip rolling back into his familiar, lavender-tinted sphere as he retreated toward the Hall, trailing the scent of mown grass. Ianto watched, entranced and relieved, as Philip wafted through the wall beside the large front doors, then he laughed out loud when Philip popped back out and blew a fountain of iridescent sparkles in Ianto's direction before disappearing completely.
"See? I told you he'd be back."
Ianto whirled to see Jack standing by the boot of the SUV with a wide grin on his face. He had a fading patch of lavender sparkles on the shoulder of his jacket and when Jack saw Ianto glance at them, he followed Ianto's gaze and then nodded.
"Yeah, I got a quick once-over by your friend, too." He grinned at Ianto, then reached out and pulled him into his arms, hugging him hard and lifting him off his feet. "Didn't I tell you it'd be okay?"
Laughing as he regained his footing, Ianto gave Jack a playful shove. "Are you always this obnoxious when you're proven right?"
Jack tugged at his ear as he pretended to consider the question, then nodded. "Yeah, pretty much."
"Yet another fact about you to file away for future reference. Let's go inside, I want to see if I can talk to Rhiannon before--"
He was interrupted by the ringing of Jack's mobile, unfortunately in the Queen ring tone he'd apparently assigned to John Hart. Jack rolled his eyes and pulled the phone out of his pocket but didn't answer it right away, instead giving Ianto a look of wry apology.
"I know," Ianto said as he picked up the rucksack, "it's better to take it than ignore him. I'll see you inside."
John Hart's intrusion was annoying but did little to dent Ianto's buoyant mood, especially when Lucy greeted him on the steps, tailing wagging furiously. Entering the Hall with her loping along beside him, he made an immediate turn into the dining room and after a quick greeting to Tosh and Andy taking tea at the table, he went into the kitchen in search of Rhiannon. Philip was nearby, a subtle presence to be sure, but as solid and comforting as he'd ever been, almost as though he'd never been lost. Ianto knew he needed time alone with Philip to fully understand what had changed, but for now, he was content to have Philip home.
He found Rhiannon at the family table, looking remarkably calm as she reviewed her menu, pencil in hand and a cup of tea at her elbow. Behind her, platters of food covered every available surface, and the aromas coming from them awakened Ianto's flagging appetite.
Rhiannon looked up as Ianto took the chair beside her, setting aside her pencil. "There you are, love. Martha called and said you'd taken a tumble, but aside from the mud on your clothes, you look all in one piece. Everything all right?"
Bless Martha for playing down the reason she and Owen had been called out to the mine. That must've been Jack's forethought, and it served Ianto well, not to have to make uncomfortable confessions and also explaining Rhiannon's attitude now. This way, he could tell his sister the truth and also present the undeniable proof that he was unharmed.
"Actually, it wasn't much more than a tumble, but, well--you remember me telling you about the ghosts?"
Rhiannon's frown was more absent-minded than worried. "Your brother telling you your childhood home is crawling with invisible beasties isn't exactly something you're likely to forget, you know."
"Well, we--Jack and I--think there are more of them, or something like them, out at the mine. And they weren't too keen on visitors, apparently."
"Oh?" Rhiannon's eyes narrowed. "What happened?"
"They attacked Jack."
"Attacked him? Oh, my God, is he all right?"
"He's fine, he's perfectly fine, it didn't last long and I think they were just trying to scare us off." A slight deviation from the truth, but Ianto's aim was to reassure his sister, not alarm her.
"Oh? And how did they do that?"
"It's rather hard to explain, actually. You see, it wasn't a physical attack so much as it was--as it was--"
"Yes?"
Ianto ran his hand through his hair as he realised this was much harder to explain than he'd expected. But he was committed to remaining truthful to Rhiannon, and he could only hope that he she would continue to be as accepting as she'd been so far.
"Jack thinks--" that's it, blame it on Jack --"that it was like a psychic attack."
Rhiannon crossed her arms as she leaned back in her chair. "Right. Go on."
"Yes, a psychic attack, you see and--listen, will you just trust me on this? I don't have it all quite sorted out myself. But Jack's fine, I'm fine, no harm done."
"And the likelihood that this is the same kind of thing that happened to you in the music room?"
Ianto shrugged. "Strong. That's why we have to have Torchwood complete their investigation. Tonight, if possible. The sooner we resolve the issue in the music room, the sooner we can begin booking the Hall for guests again."
Rhiannon lifted her tea cup to her lips and took a quick sip, grimacing when she found its contents had gone cold. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves," she murmured. When Ianto frowned at her, she continued. "Listen, if you say you and Jack haven't been injured and Owen is satisfied, I'll leave it for now." She picked up her pencil and pointed it at him. "And don't think I won't ask him, either."
Ianto nodded, relief flowing through him at this reprieve. He knew something was bothering Rhiannon but before he could pursue the subject, she changed it.
"So," she said with a teasing smile, "other than being attacked by ghosts, how was your walk?"
"Um, well," Ianto looked down at the table to hide his smile, "it was informative."
"Informative? Ghosts or no ghosts, you're out on a walk with a good-looking bloke and all you have to say is that it was informative? Honestly, Ianto, you need to get out more. In fact, I was wondering," she added with a patently false expression of innocence, "d'you think you and Jack are, well, you know?"
She made a vague circle with her hand and Ianto shook his head. "Sorry, not following."
"Well, it's obvious the two of you are head over heels for each other. If he asks you to go to London, will you go?"
Though it hurt to say it, Ianto's answer was immediate. "No, I can't leave the Hall, or you. Not for the foreseeable future, at any rate."
"Hmm," Rhiannon grunted, then slapped the table. "The future may be coming sooner than any of us think." She rose to her feet and gave Ianto a critical look. "You'd best go change out of those muddy clothes and make it quick, we'll be serving a lot of food as soon as Annie gets here and I'm going to need you."
"What do you--"
Ianto was interrupted by a soft knock, followed by the appearance of Andy coming through the swinging doors, bearing an empty plate.
"I hope you don't mind the intrusion," Andy said, "but Tosh was wondering if there were any more of those chocolate biscuits."
"Tosh, is it?" Rhiannon said. "Such a big appetite she has," she added with a wink.
The tips of Andy's ears turned pink. "They're very good," he stammered, "you should think of selling them."
Ianto got to his feet, curious about Rhiannon's vague warning but choosing not to pursue it just then. He'd done a half-arsed job of telling her what happened at the mine, but once she was satisfied that no one had been injured, her mind had gone on to other problems, not the least of which must've been the meal she was about to serve. Annie, their part-time server, arrived through the back door just as Rhiannon was admonishing Andy not to ruin his appetite while slipping him a few more biscuits, so Ianto left them to change into a proper suit before returning to set the table and sideboard.
It was as he was knotting his tie that he realised that the subliminal buzzing in his head had stopped some time ago. He met his own gaze in the mirror, the expression he found there perfectly reflecting his own confusion. If there was some significance to both its presence and absence that he was missing, he could discuss it later with Jack.
By the time Jack joined the rest of his team in the dining room, having changed into clean clothes like Ianto, everyone else was already on the first course. The noise level was high and everyone seemed to be in a good mood--everyone except Jack, who took his seat at the head of the table with only a tight nod in Ianto's direction. Assuming that Jack was troubled by his phone call with John, Ianto made a point of resting his hand briefly on Jack's shoulder as he served him, a gesture rewarded when Jack lifted his own hand to grip Ianto's fingers in a brief, centring touch.
And above it all, hovering in the corner like an indulgent uncle, was Philip. His presence was as warm as it'd ever been, and under different circumstances, Ianto would have excused himself from the service and invited Philip into a private conversation in his office.
But it would have to wait. Jack was looking more discouraged with each passing moment and Rhiannon, though efficient as usual, also seemed distracted. It had become a tradition for Ianto and Rhiannon to join the crew once all the food was served but today she begged off, saying she was going to take food out to the security van. Annie was too shy to join the others, so Ianto ended up taking a seat at the table between Rhys and Tosh, though his appetite, regained upon reuniting with Philip, had again faded in reaction to Jack's obvious distress and Rhiannon's preoccupation.
If the rest of the Torchwood team noticed Jack's disquietude, they made no mention of it. And to be fair, Jack was doing his best to hide it, but Ianto watched him too closely to miss the worried expression that crept into Jack's eyes when he wasn't conversing with his team mates. It was one more black mark against John Hart, that he could so easily turn Jack's mood from playful and joyous at Philip's return to one of dark contemplation.
All this was going on inside Ianto's head as he spoke with the others at the table, rising often to refill a platter or a glass. He even flirted a bit with Tosh, both of them knowing it was all in fun. That was the only thing to really catch Jack's attention, as Ianto looked up to see him watching them with a knowing, amused glint in his eye. All in all, it was a successful meal, especially after Andy talked Rhiannon into joining them for pudding.
But once those plates were removed and fresh coffee and tea distributed--along with a tray of biscuits near Andy's elbow--Jack brought all eyes at the table to him with the quiet clearing of his throat.
"As of last night's shoot, we're temporarily shutting down principal photography for this episode of Torchwood Paranormal."
"Really?" Gwen looked around the table. "But there's so much more here. Right, Ianto?"
Ianto shared a glance with Jack. "You've probably gotten the best of it. I've shown you all the primary haunting spaces on the property."
"Besides," Jack said, "we have another job to do."
"Another job?" Rhys crossed his arms over his chest. "That's it, we're going straight to another shoot? When did we sign on for that?"
"No. I've asked permission--and Martha has agreed, pending everyone's agreement--that we conduct another investigation of the music room. We'll film it, but not for public viewing, strictly for research."
"Research?" Gwen asked. "I don't understand."
Jack leaned forward, wrapping his hands around his coffee mug. "There's no doubt that Caernarfon Hall is haunted by traditional spirits. But as I said before, the entity in the music room--"
"Adam, if anyone's curious," Owen muttered.
"Is not a traditional ghost. Neither is the other main entity living here in the house."
"Yeah, who is that?" Andy asked. "We haven't talked about him much, have we?"
"Philip." Ianto looked down at his hands. "His name is Philip."
"And he's one of the good guys," Jack said. "He's the one that came in and broke the control that Adam had over me in the music room."
"Yeah, on the night you were attacked. Listen, Jack," Gwen pushed her hair behind her ears, "Torchwood Paranormal is a television programme about hunting ghosts, not an actual group of scientists studying paranormal activity. We do this for entertainment, not science, and after what happened to you and Ianto, don't you think we should leave this to the professionals?"
There was a brief silence around the table and Ianto exchanged a worried look with Rhiannon. Gwen's suggestion was perfectly understandable under the circumstances, especially given that they all had proof that Adam was a threat. He even managed to return Gwen's apologetic smile with a brief one of his own, telling her silently that he understood her reasoning.
"Agreed," Jack said. "But Rhiannon and Ianto have neither the time nor the resources to hire a group of scientists to investigate the music room. In fact," Ianto gave him a nod, knowing what was coming next, "the Hall is in dire financial straits, which is why I'm asking all of you to volunteer your time and talents now."
"Well, count me in," Martha said promptly. "We're the ones who stirred things up in the first place, so it's our responsibility to see it sorted."
"You don't know that," Rhys argued. "Maybe that thing up there was preparing to get nasty and we just happened along at the right time."
"No," Jack said, "it's us. More specifically, it's me. That's why I'm only asking for volunteers and anyone who's not interested can leave for London this afternoon without prejudice. And before anyone asks," he added, "base salaries will be covered, and some expenses too, if necessary. I'm asking for volunteers because we're using equipment and resources without the blessing of the production company, and that could get us into trouble. But I'm not asking anyone to work for free."
"Of course," Rhiannon said, "it might be of interest to some of you that this also includes a continuation of the catering agreement."
"Right," Andy said, "I'm in. Oh, don't everyone look at me like that, I was in before anyone mentioned food."
Ianto hid a smile behind his hand, relieved that at least one of the Torchwood crew besides Jack and Martha was ready to help. He wasn't surprised when Toshiko chimed in and offered her services, followed by Gwen and Rhys after they held a brief, private discussion. The only one left after that was Owen, who when asked directly by Jack if he was going to participate, merely shrugged.
"Why not?" He reached past Andy and snagged a biscuit from the plate. "Of course I'm expecting tonight to be a proper cock-up, but someone's going to need to put the pieces back together, may as well be me."
"Thank you," Jack said, "Everyone, thank you. It means a lot to me."
"And to us." Rhiannon rose to her feet. "But I won't tolerate anyone getting hurt over this, d'you hear me?"
After giving everyone a glare, she returned to the kitchen to a chorus of yes, ma'ams, leaving Ianto with the Torchwood crew and Philip. But it wasn't until he looked up to Philip's resting place in the corner above the sideboard that he realised that there was someone he'd neglected to consult and from the looks of it, wasn't on board with the plan to visit the music room again.
Technical conversation regarding the upcoming investigation swirled around him, but Ianto was concentrating too hard on Philip to pay much attention. Philip's colours had deepened from their normal lavender to a flat, unreadable grey, his amorphous shape also having changed into an almost perfect, hard-edged circle. Ianto silently reached out to him and Philip reached back, his touch reassuring but stern, telling Ianto that Philip didn't want them confronting Adam but that his doubts were out of concern, not anger.
Ianto understood. Oh, he understood all too well. Adam was a serious threat not only to the Hall but to Philip and Jack, and Ianto had no intention of risking either of them. Jack would be safe in the comm van, but there was no way to protect Philip from Adam--or from Philip making a choice that Ianto couldn't live with.
Someone must have asked Ianto a question. The room had gone silent and everyone was looking at him, including Jack, whose compassionate expression told Ianto that he too, was worried about Philip and the struggle that awaited them.
"I'm sorry," Ianto said, "what were we talking about?"
"Start time," Jack said. "We were trying to work out a timeline for the rest of the day. When do you think we should begin the investigation?"
Ianto swallowed before answering, the reality of what lay ahead momentarily robbing him of breath. "There's nothing holding us back from starting right now, actually."
"Well, yes, there is." Tosh looked up from her notepad. "We'll need time to set up properly and since no one's been in the music room lately, at the very least, we've got loads of sound and light checks to do."
"Right, that's your department, so you and the boys can work on that this afternoon," Jack looked directly at Ianto, "since neither Ianto nor I will be getting any closer to the music room than the hallway."
"What about me?" Gwen asked. "If this isn't for an actual episode, then that makes me odd man out, doesn't it?"
Rhys took her hand and gave it a squeeze. "Ever fancy being a roadie?"
***
It was late afternoon when Ianto finally allowed himself to retreat to his office. He'd helped Rhiannon and Annie with the massive clean-up and just when Ianto thought they'd finished, Rhiannon had given him a rundown of the food she'd prepared for a light meal that evening, along with a list of instructions. Her Sunday afternoons were always spent at home with Johnny and Ianto saw no reason to change her schedule, even though she offered to come back during the investigation. He loved her for her willingness, but having her safe at home was one less thing he had to worry about.
The basics of the installation concluded under his supervision, Jack had excused the team with the admonition to get some rest before returning to the Hall and beginning the night's activities. Then he'd disappeared, but Ianto was fairly sure he hadn't gone back to town with the crew. Given his mood after John Hart's call, he'd probably wanted some time to himself, which left Ianto free to take a seat at his desk and wait for Philip to show up.
It didn't take long. Ianto felt his presence before he actually appeared, and he closed his eyes to simply live in the comforting sensation as Philip coalesced. But in that moment, those few brief seconds, with no other input than Philip's presence gathering around him, Ianto knew things had irrevocably changed.
Opening his eyes on a painful gasp, he found Philip hovering in front of him, his familiar spheroid shape undulating silently above Ianto's desk. Sharing their non-verbal communication, Ianto was nearly overwhelmed with the feeling of heart-breaking regret that emanated from Philip, a feeling that pressed against Ianto's chest and brought unexpected tears to his eyes.
"What's happening?" he whispered. He blinked back the moisture and leaned forward. "You're back, you're safe, we're going to defeat Adam and things will return to the way they were." He swallowed, running his tongue along suddenly dry lips. "Won't they?"
He asked the question, already knowing the answer, already feeling his heart being torn asunder as he heard Philip's tender, firm reply that was devastating in its simplicity. No, came the response, the word floating on the air between them on a grass-scented air current yet striking Ianto like a closed fist. Confused, his throat tightening, Ianto surged to his feet so quickly the chair hit the wall behind him.
"Why not?" Even to his own ears, he sounded like a forlorn, confused child.
At first, it seemed that Philip wasn't going to answer. He gave Ianto no indication of his thoughts, but subtly, slowly, his colour began to fade. Ianto watched transfixed as Philip paled to the lightest pearl, only the distortion caused by his wavering edges giving his form any delineation. There was no sensation of pain, no indication that this transformation was in any way harming Philip, but at the same time, Ianto was experiencing the return of the vibration that had accompanied him home from the mine. Wincing as the shaking increased, it took him a moment to understand that this time it wasn't coming from within himself--it was coming from Philip.
Or rather, from what Philip was revealing as he became entirely translucent. In the midst of his being, cradled within his softly glowing shape, was a smaller sphere, this one a warm copper colour that appeared lit from within. As its colour intensified, the vibration Ianto was experiencing lessened until it was gone altogether, and it was only then that Ianto picked up on the delicate aroma of warm spice that wove around the room and underscored Philip's green, fresh scent.
"I don't understand," Ianto muttered, but as soon as he said the words, he knew that wasn't exactly true. Either instinctively or with Philip's aid, he did understand that the copper orb was its own entity, somehow transported to the Hall. Whether Ianto had hosted the new being--he didn't think so, since he knew what that felt like--or it had somehow come along for the ride through unknown means, it was definitely from the mine. Its scent, the warm, spicy aroma Ianto first encountered on the hilltop, was as unique a signature as Philip's scent of freshly cut cedar and Adam's darker odour of acrid decay.
Philip began turning opaque, hiding the entity within him as the aroma in the room faded. Ianto waited, unsure how to proceed now that it wasn't just Philip he was dealing with. Part of him was intrigued by the new arrival, part of him was concerned how the balance of things with Adam would change--but all of him was still reeling at the revelation that the special relationship he'd shared with Philip was forever altered.
It was devastating but undeniable. Whatever the newcomer's role was in the unfolding drama of Caernarfon Hall, its mere existence presaged a change to the dynamic between Philip and Ianto, even more than the awakening of Adam had threatened it. The link with Philip was still there, and so was the unwavering love, but it was obvious that things between them would never be the same.
Ianto had so many questions but now, he found himself almost afraid to ask them. All his life, he'd thought of Philip as his companion, a spectre unlike the others at the Hall but not so different that he hadn't accepted him for whatever he truly was. And whatever he was, Ianto had always assumed he was one of a kind, so finding that Adam was similar to him had been a shock.
And now there was another, this unknown being--at least unknown to Ianto. But from Philip he received the strong impression that not only was the copper entity known to Philip, it was treasured by him, as well. There was a new tenderness in his demeanour, though Ianto couldn't quite define it. Parent to child or lover to lover, it was difficult to tell, but through the ties that connected them, Ianto understood that Philip cared for this newcomer, cared deeply, and the truth behind that knowledge broke Ianto's heart just a little bit more. To have known that a beloved was so close and yet be unable to touch them was a fate no one deserved.
Angrily blinking away fresh tears for Philip's loneliness as well as his own crippling sense of impending loss, Ianto loosened the knot of his tie and stripped it off his neck.
"Right, then," he sighed, "where do we start?