Fic- Forever Part Nine

[branwen_blaidd]

Title: Forever

By Branwen Blaidd & Oncoming Scone

Part Nine of Thirty One

Pairing: Jack/Ianto

Rating: Adult - Dark Themes, Violence, Graphic sex, AU

Spoilers: Torchwood & Doctor Who all seasons to date.

Summary: Set after Exit Wounds and Journey’s End, no-one is coping with recent tragic events. In an attempt to bring the team back to unity and strength, Ianto makes a decision that will change the fate of Torchwood, and the world, Forever.

Disclaimers: Despite 5 months of creating this together, we own nothing and never will! The various songs, verses, etc do not belong to us either. 

Notes: This is AU, though it begins in line with canon up to Exit Wounds. We hope to post one chapter each day at roughly the same time. Comments please!

 

Jack moved gingerly. Every second dragged. He knew he was in shock, drifting as each stray thought reminded him of what had just happened.

He buttoned his shirt. He felt the cold air on his chest. Each button felt stiff. He wondered when he’d last worn that shirt. He remembered Ianto had bought it for him.

He fastened his collar. He felt barely conscious. Yet everything was heightened. Every sound so loud. The hub was excruciatingly silent. Where was Ianto now?

He gasped and winced in pain as his bent down to adjust his sock. He straightened. He couldn’t remember experiencing such betrayal as this.

He finished putting his clothes on. His belt, his braces, his shoes. All so normal. But he could feel his dressing bunching in his underwear and he felt sick.

He ran a shaky hand through his hair. With a deep breath he ascended the ladder and walked confidently; as Captain Jack Harkness would walk, to his desk.

He was met with emptiness. He scanned the hub but Ianto was nowhere to be seen. He gently sat, swallowing hard and trying to ignore that bitter pain.

There he sat for some time. He wasn’t sure how long. The world had drifted to a stop, like a train losing power. No noise, no life, no light. He stared blankly at his unusually messy desk, numbness ringing in his ears.

After a while he sat back, wincing and shifting in his seat. He closed his eyes tightly but what he saw made him open them quickly. He stared at the floor.

Just as bad. A droplet of dried blood left over from some injury or other, stared back at Jack. He blinked. He noticed one or two more droplets. The floor was filthy. He scowled. Then he remembered; Gwen’s run-in with a Weevil. It was from that.

His brain was numb, under a shadow. Was it just him or was blood becoming a focal point? Blood. His mind tingled but it hurt to think.

File upon file was stacked in front of him. Reports scattered. Reminder notes stuck on everything. Jack frowned. It shouldn’t be like this. This hadn’t happened in years. Because he had…he had someone who looked after all that stuff.

Where was Ianto? His mind asked. His body asked. His heart asked. It dawned on him. Ianto had been absent for quite some time now.

He shook himself out of his reverie and realised something that suddenly seemed so obvious. Employees acting strangely. He was usually so quick to see it. His personal involvement with Ianto had blinded him. What the hell was going on?

And then much to his surprise he felt pure joy. It wasn’t Ianto. That was not Ianto. It wasn’t Ianto who’d hurt him. He laughed out loud, then on hearing himself, his elation quickly descended into panic. He forgot his own discomfort, his own trauma. Something had happened to Ianto.

Those words echoed in his mind and his eyes fell on a leather-bound book. Ianto’s diary.

Jack lurched forward and grabbed it. It was casually discarded under another mountain of paper work. He sent papers flying as he retrieved it and urgently ruffled through the pages to find the most recent entry.

It was from several days ago. He was sure Ianto kept his diary up to date daily. He smiled to himself as he read. It sounded like his Ianto. The sarcasm was unmistakable. But the entry was sad.

Jack had been acting like an asshole. Ianto poured his heart out here, about how he wished he could change Jack, change himself, do anything to make it more bearable for Jack.

‘If I could find a way to be with him forever, I would. I’d do anything.’

Jack felt his eyes prick with tears. His Ianto. But where was he?  Jack suddenly flashed back. Gwen. What had she said? ‘Something has changed him.’

 He ran into the main hub area to see if he could see Ianto, the diary still in his hand. He went to the kitchen. The coffee machine looked unused. Spotless, even. But then he saw it. Another dried splash of blood on the work top. He flashed back to his own blood and flinched. He flashed back to Gwen bleeding in the medical bay. Blood.

The dizziness returned and he tried to breathe deeply. He looked down at the diary and re-read Ianto’s entry.

‘If I could find a way to be with him forever, I would. I’d do anything.’

He was touched by it a few minutes ago. Now it was chilling. He smelt a strange scent. Like incense. Only he wasn’t smelling it. He was remembering it. That club. Those people. The girl. That other half-remembered memory.

Suddenly Jack knew. He knew everything. He knew what had happened to Ianto. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen it before.

“How could I be so fucking blind?” he whispered bitterly to himself, before slamming the diary shut. He pulled himself together with a deep breath and was Captain Jack once more.

He turned on his heel and began to leave the kitchen only to find Ianto approaching him. He looked white and shaken. Jack expertly concealed the diary and stood firm.

 “I need to go out,” he said before Ianto could say anything. “I need you to stay here and keep an eye on things.”

 “Jack, I…”

“No arguments,” shouted Jack. And he swept out through the cog door.

Ianto stood stunned. Something gnawed at him in the pit of his stomach. But elsewhere he was calm. He pushed his feelings, his messy remorse for Jack to one side, the calmness taking him completely. And then there was only one thing to do. Feed.

He smiled to himself.

                                             * * *

Jack couldn’t breathe. He strode purposefully into that red velvet draped room, fury pushing him on.

She smiled. “I’ve been expecting you.”

Jack slammed the door behind him and anger welled further up inside him when she didn’t react.

“What in the hell have you done to Ianto?”

She smiled, neatly lining up her cards. “I’ve given him what he wanted.”

Jack threw himself down on the chair across the table from her and gave her his best, fiercest glare. “You’ve destroyed him.”

“He is who he is. I gave him forever. He wanted forever. For you.”

“That’s not him. You…you gave me some monster forever. It’s not him.”

Infuriatingly calm, she put her head on one side and considered him. “You can save him. If you are willing to risk everything.”

                                             * * *

Ianto felt it so severely, that need. A hunger he’d never had was suddenly his everything. He craved it like oxygen. He felt so ready.

He had intended to stay in the Hub; do what the man asked of him. He’d been working for a while. But he couldn’t remember why he should want to anymore. Not when there was such a glorious reward to be had outside. Not when his insides ached for satisfaction. For fulfilment.

He left the Hub without another thought. Fuck Torchwood. Lame alien-fighting squad. Ianto laughed to himself as he rose on the invisible lift into the centre of the Plass.

He looked around. So much blood, so little time! He patted his back pocket as he considered his wallet and the credit card inside. If he wanted the food he would have to make the bait a little tastier. He headed for the high street, semi-hard, licking his lips.

There were naked necks everywhere. Flawless skin just begging to be compromised. Licked. Penetrated. Bitten. Torn. He focussed his mind on himself. No one would be able to resist him.

The grey clouds above him protected him from the sunlight. No wonder Cardiff was such a hot spot for Vampires, he grinned to himself. He noticed a terrified pair of eyes on him. He glared back. She ran away. So little, pink coat with a yellow balloon. She knew. Children often did. She ran as fast as she could away from him. Ianto couldn’t help but notice, as she disappeared how smooth was her skin.

The sun never emerged. Ianto spent some time in and out of shops until he found the perfect outfit in which to hunt his pray. He got changed in a public bathroom and dumped his suit in the bin.

It was dusk as he left the shopping mall. He looked incredible. Tight dark blue jeans. Black fitting shirt, accentuating his muscular body. Fitted leather jacket. He was radiant. People gazed at him as he walked down the street, his own personal cat walk. His eyes shone, gleaming at passers-by. He was surrounded by powerful aura.

Darkness descended. Now, lit only by the cloudy moonlight and the odd orange street lamp, he headed for the back streets. Another cute club. He’d been thinking about it all day. What he was going to find?

And there he was. Exactly what Ianto had pictured for the last few hours. A slim, blond boy of nineteen or so. He was mesmerised by Ianto. He was clearly aroused; his tight jeans didn’t do much for his modesty.

The beat of music filled the air. The boy was outside the club smoking a cigarette. Ianto scanned him intently and the boy began to breathe heavily. Absently, the boy stubbed out his cigarette and flicked it into the gutter. He gazed at Ianto.

Ianto closed the distance between them and was immediately kissing him violently. He tasted ash. The boy responded as well as he could. Then Ianto pulled away.

“So,” said Ianto with a smouldering gaze and a slight smirk. “Are you going back in there or are you coming with me?”