A Year Out of Time - part one.
Jun. 24th, 2009 09:56 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
silver_sunTitle: A Year Out of Time.
Author: the-silver-sun
Fandom(s): Torchwood and Doctor Who
Genre and pairings (if applicable): Action/Adventure/Romance. Ianto Jones/Andy Davidson.
Rating: R
Beta(s): Santousha and Dvanulya. Thank you for all your hard work.
Spoilers: series one of Torchwood and series three of Doctor Who
Warnings: Temporary major character death.
Word Count 30k
Summary: When PC Andy Davidson meets Ianto Jones the day after Harold Saxon is elected Prime Minister he has no idea of the devastation that is about to happen to Earth, or the fact that Ianto Jones will come to mean a great deal to him as they try to survive.
Notes: This is canon compliant for series one of Torchwood and series three of Doctor Who, but not afterwards.
The world has gone nuts; it’s the only logical explanation. Or at least that’s Andy’s opinion as he glances at the newspaper headlines. Where they proclaim, with varying degrees of sensationalism, that the newly elected prime minister along with the president of the United States are going to meet with aliens on board some UN ship. It’s either that or the newspapers are printing the April fools day joke a month late.
It’s as mad as the news broadcast he’d caught the previous day that had claimed that Captain Harkness, but apparently not the rest of Torchwood, was a terrorist. It was obviously a load of bollocks, well unless extreme innuendo has become recognised form of terrorism while he wasn’t looking, and he’s pretty sure it hasn’t.
He’s also sure that if he could speak to Gwen he’d be able to find out just what the hell was going on. So far though all he’s managed to get is the voice mail on her mobile. He’s left her a few messages, but she hasn’t called him back. Not that that’s so unusual these days, he thinks with some annoyance, once she used to reply straight away, now he’s lucky if it’s the same week.
Paying the bored looking woman at the checkout, and wondering how people who work shifts ever managed before the advent of twenty-hour supermarkets, Andy starts his short walk home.
It’s not a bad morning really, Andy reflects as he opens his sandwich and eats as he walks. Five am in the Cathays area of Cardiff seems amazingly peaceful, especially after his last shift. Friday night on Queen’s Street, especially on a Friday where Cardiff City had been utterly panned by QPR, hadn’t exactly been quiet or fun.
He’s about three streets from his flat, and debating whether to or not he should text Darren and find out if he’s still got that spare ticket for the rugby match on Sunday when he hears a noise.
In an alleyway just across the road from him there is a shout followed by the sound of breaking glass and a series of growls which make the hair stand up on the back of his neck.
“I’m going to regret this, I just know it,” Andy mutters to himself as he looks around at the deserted street. Then, putting down his bag of shopping, he goes over to the alleyway to investigate.
Parked at the back of the alley is a large, black and very familiar SUV.
Bloody Torchwood.
Andy hesitates, knowing that he be better off just walking back out the alley and leaving them to it. It’s not like they’d tell me what was going on anyway, he thinks crossly.
But if he does take the chance he might be able to ask Gwen and find out what’s really going on. Making his decision he walks forward.
“I might have known it’d be you lot,” he says a little louder than necessary, knowing that Torchwood tended to go around armed and startling anybody who was armed was likely to be an incredibly stupid idea.
Appearing from around the side of the SUV is a man in a suit. A little out of breath he leans against the side of the vehicle as he approaches, saying, “You’re Andy Davidson aren’t you? Gwen’s friend in the police.”
“How’d you know that? And who are you?” He’s fairly sure that he’s not seen this guy before. When Torchwood showed up it was nearly always Jack and Gwen, with the occasional edition of either a grumpy Londoner or a quiet Japanese woman.
“Ianto Jones, Torchwood.” He starts to offer his hand to Andy to shake, but a look of pain crosses his face and he returns the hand to where it had been held against his side.
“Are you all right?” Andy asks stepping closer, trying to get a better look at him.
“Not exactly.” His voice is taut, pained. Closing his eyes he bites his lip for a moment before continuing, “I know you’re interested in what Torchwood does, Gwen’s told me as much.” Stopping again he takes a sharp breath, pressing his hand tighter against his side, “How would you like to find out?”
“What’s the catch?” Andy asks warily, wishing there was more light in the alley so that he can see how badly Ianto is hurt. Because Andy is pretty sure that he is hurt. “And where’s Gwen and the rest of you lot?”
“No catch.” He bites his lip again, “I just need you drive me down Roald Dahl Plas, and then help me unload the SUV.”
“Where’s Gwen?” Andy looks around again.
“Right now? Katmandu, probably.”
“What that curry place over in Splott? That’s closed.” He’d always suspected that there was some reason other than lack of money it was closed down. Maybe they’d been using dodgy meat or something. All the same it was a bit weird to go looking at it so early in the morning. But then, Andy supposes a bit weird is what Torchwood does really well.
“I mean the place, in Nepal. The Himalayas,” Ianto says with a weary resignation, like he’s explained it a dozen times already.
Andy’s heard desk sergeants use pretty much the same tone after a long night on duty; it’s still annoying to be on the receiving end of it. “Well there’s no need to be rude about it.”
Ianto sags against the side of the SUV, “Sorry, it’s just this really is important, please. Could you just drive me to the Plas?”
Light from one the street lamp catches Ianto’s hand as he sags and Andy can see the blood on it where it’s held tight against his side.
“You’re bleeding, I should take you to A&E.”
“You can’t, it’s too dangerous. They’d ask too many questions, and I can’t risk anyone finding out I’m still here.” Still leaning against the side of the SUV Ianto makes his way slowly round to the front passenger seat.
Andy is about to ask why it would be too dangerous when something in the back of the SUV growls and slams against the side of the vehicle causing it to shake.
“What was that?” Andy steps back, rather more shaken by the strange noise than he would like to admit. “What have you got in there? A bear?” He’s fairly sure that it isn’t, after all what would a bear be doing in an alleyway in Cardiff? Only it doesn’t sound like a dog, not even a really big, really angry one.
“You know a bear would be easier to explain. A lot easier.” Ianto seems almost amused, as he ignores the continuing growls and gets into the vehicle. “Could we get going now, please?”
“All right,” Andy says getting into the drivers seat. Although the interior is as heavily modified as the exterior Andy is pleased to note that the modifications don’t seem to have extended to the actual way in which it drives.
Ianto looks pale and drawn in the seat beside him, the odd blue lighting in the SUV doing nothing for his complexion. He bites back a gasp of pain as he tries to fasten his seatbelt, fingers slipping bloody across the catch.
“You sure you don’t want to get that seen to?” Andy asks as he gets the SUV in gear and slowly manoeuvres it out of the narrow alleyway.
Ianto looks at him through half closed eyes. “Didn’t say that, I said no hospitals. Everything I need is back at the…” He hesitates, eyes closing for a moment, “Back at where I work.”
“Is there anybody there that can help?” Andy looks down at where the blood has welled through Ianto’s fingers and started to stain the seat. It’s hard to tell just how much it there is or how bad the injury might be, he just hopes that he’s doing the right thing by taking Ianto back to wherever it is that they are going.
Ianto shakes his head, his voice with tight with something that isn’t all physical pain when he replies, “No, there’s just me. I’ll manage.” He gives Andy a pained smile, as he takes a handkerchief from his pocket and holds it over where he’s bleeding. “I always do.”
“So Gwen really is in Tibet?” Andy decides to change the subject, hoping to find out a bit more about what’s going on. It just doesn’t seem to him the sort of place that Gwen would go, and he can’t imagine her going on holiday with Rhys somewhere like that.
“Nepal. Yes.” Ianto grits his teeth as the SUV goes over a speed bump, “Just something that needed looking into. A case.”
The streets are almost completely deserted this early in the morning so it only takes a few minutes to reach the edge of Roald Dahl Plas.
“Turn left here.”
“The Millennium centre car park?” Andy gives him a questioning look.
Ianto nods, “lowest level, far left hand corner.” He takes a plastic key card from his suit pocket and hands it to Andy.
“To pay for parking?” Torchwood going by the rules? That, in Andy’s experience, would be a first.
“To get into our garage.” Ianto closes his eyes again, breathing slowly, trying to psych himself up for getting out of the SUV.
The car park is completely unremarkable and there doesn’t seem to be anything particularly interesting about the far left hand corner either. Just a roller shuttered door to what looks like it should be some kind of goods lift.
Leaving the engine running, Andy gets out and looks at the door. There’s a small swipe card slot just to the left of it, but nothing else. No controls, no indication as to what floor the lift is on or even how many floors there are.
The panel beeps as Andy swipes the card through it and the shutter rolls up to reveal a downward sloping corridor. Getting back in the SUV Andy gives Ianto a questioning look.
“The things we load and unload out of the SUV we tend to not want an audience for,” Ianto replies.
“But you’re showing me. Isn’t that against the rules or something?” Andy’s still not totally convinced that there isn’t some ulterior motive in getting him to come here. He can’t actually think what it might be, but it doesn’t hurt to be cautious, not where Torchwood is concerned.
“Maybe. It wouldn’t be the worst thing that I’ve done though.”
At the end of the corridor is a rather ordinary looking garage. It’s something of a disappointment after the rather hi tech interior of the SUV, although any thought of mentioning it is scrapped when there is another growl from the back of the SUV and something starts to slam violently against the walls, attempting to escape.
Ianto slowly gets out of the SUV, a hand still pressed tightly against his side. He sways slightly on his feet as he moves round the vehicle. Opening the rear passenger door he drags a bag across the seat until it falls out the SUV with a thump.
In the light harsh fluorescent lighting of the garage Andy can see the pain and tiredness on Ianto’s face. A face that is younger than Andy had first realised, one maybe younger than himself.
There’s not much time for thought though as there is another snarl from the back of the SUV, and what sounds like claws scratching and scrabbling against metal.
“Are you going to tell me what’s in there?” he asks, wondering if he’ll actually get a straight answer.
“An alien.”
So much for getting a remotely sensible answer. “Really?”
Ianto ignores Andy’s disbelieving look and tone, opening the duffel bag to retrieve an aerosol can, some netting and a very large syringe. “We call them weevils. They live in the sewers, and as long as they don’t cause trouble we leave them alone.”
“You’re not joking, are you?”
Ianto shakes his head, then looks as if he regrets the sudden movement. Leaning against the side of the SUV he closes his eyes and takes several deep, unsteady breaths.
“Are you all right?” Andy asks stepping closer, wondering if Ianto is going to pass out, throw up or possibly both.
“I will be. Let’s get this over with.”
Andy is about to ask just what it is that they are going to be doing when Ianto hands him the net.
“I’m going to open the door, when I do, throw the net over what comes out. I’ll do the rest.”
If the rest involved bleeding on it and possibly passing out Andy thinks Ianto has probably got it well covered. Anything else and he’s not so sure.
“Ready?” Ianto asks, hand already on the boot catch.
“As I’ll ever be.” Andy doubts that he’ll every really be ready to see an alien, if that is really what’s in there.
Ianto seems to take that as a yes and what happens next is mostly a blur, taking just a few seconds. The boot opens, and Andy throws the net and Ianto jabs the syringe into the back of the creature’s neck.
The first impression that Andy gets of the weevil even before it has stopped thrashing about in the net is the smell. The second, once it has stopped moving is that it’s probably one of the ugliest creatures that he’s ever seen.
Ianto is breathing raggedly as he puts the syringe back in the duffel bag before turning back to Andy. “That should keep him knocked out for about half an hour.”
It’s all too surreal, Andy decides as he drags the unconscious weevil into a lift and takes it down to what appears to be a cell block, while Ianto opens doors for him and gives directions. He’s sure there are questions that he should be asking, but at the moment nothing specific comes to mind.
Another weevil growls at them from its cell as they pass it, it sounds more questioning than threatening.
Just how many of these things are in here? Andy wonders as he tries to work out how he’s managed to live in Cardiff pretty much all his life and has avoided seeing one of these things until now. He’s always thought of himself as being more observant than that.
“That one’s Janet,” Ianto says a little breathlessly as they drag the still thankfully unconscious weevil into a cell.
“Janet? I suppose this one’s Brad.”
Ianto blinks at him, looking a little dizzy as he closes the door to the cell.
“Rocky Horror Show. You know Brad and Janet, and that guy in a corset who was really an alien.”
“Oh yeah.” Ianto leans weakly against the wall now that the alien has been secured, starting to shiver.
“Are you going to let me take you to A&E now, or would you prefer to expire quietly down here?”
Ianto’s mouth quirks into a pained smile, “Tempting, but no.”
“I hope you mean A&E,” Andy says as much to himself as to Ianto.
Ianto stumbles against him as they start walking, “So do I.”
By the time they reach the substantial metal door at the top of the stairs Ianto is leaning heavily on him, a thin sheen on perspiration on his face from the effort of keeping himself moving.
The door rolls aside to reveal a huge cavernous space that seems to be equal parts underground station and hi-tech office, with possibly a bit of mad scientist’s laboratory thrown in for good measure.
Andy is still trying to take it all in when something overhead screeches. Looking up he catches a brief glimpse of something large and airborne circling above them.
“What was that?” Andy flattens himself back against the wall, pulling Ianto with him.
“It’s just Myfanwy.” Ianto bites his lip, the sudden movement obviously having hurt more than he’s going to admit.
The creature circles lower before perching on a metal girder above them.
“It’s a dinosaur. Pterodactyl.” Aliens and dinosaurs, Andy thinks, are all a bit much to take in before breakfast.
“Pterodon actually. She’s won’t hurt us.”
Still a little dubious about having a dinosaur watching him, and possibly considering them as food, Andy glances up occasionally at the creature as they cross the open space.
Ianto is unsteady on his feet, his complexion almost grey with exhaustion as they walk down the steps into what Andy thinks looks suspiciously like an autopsy bay.
Once Ianto has sat down, Andy helps him to remove his suit jacket. Andy takes a sharp breath as he sees the amount of blood that has soaked through Ianto’s shirt. The cuts, gouges really, that have been made by the weevil’s claws are visible through gaps in the shredded material. Starting low on Ianto’s back, they curl downward around his side, ending just above his hip.
Looking around, Andy asks, “Have you got a first aid kit?” A first aid kit seems a little insubstantial for what he is being asked to do, but there isn’t anything else he can think of to ask for.
Ianto nods, looking like he’s still trying to concentrate on not passing out, before waving a bloody hand in the direction of one of the cabinets.
Opening what is most probably the most well stocked first aid kit he’s ever seen, Andy puts on a pair of latex gloves.
Ianto’s near silent stoicism in the face of what Andy thinks is probably quite a lot of a pain finally crumbles as Andy tries to peel the shirt away from where half-dried blood has stuck it to the cuts.
“Stop,” Ianto asks hoarsely, voice rough from trying to contain the pain.
“I can try to soak it off,” Andy offers, glancing over at the sink. He’s not sure that it’s going to be all that effective.
Ianto takes a shuddering breath, then shakes his head. “Just get me the packet in the drawer over there.”
The packet is of prescription strength painkillers. Turning it over Andy reads the instructions: no more than 2 tablets every six hours, not to be taken with alcohol.
Taking a single tablet from the packet Ianto dry swallows it, grimacing at the taste.
“You can take another one if you want.” Andy takes the packet back off Ianto.
“No. Last time Owen gave me these they knocked me out for hours. One will be enough.”
The wounds look deep enough that Andy is sure that they should probably be stitched. Even though there is a suture set in the first aid kit he doesn’t feel confident enough to use it. Because the last time he’d attempted to sew anything it had been a button back on a shirt, and it had fallen off again the next time he’d worn it.
There are a lot of steri-strips though, as well as bandages and some anti-sceptic sprays and gels. He just hopes that it’s enough to do the job.
Spraying antiseptic over the sluggishly bleeding wounds, Andy tries not to think of how much it must still hurt. “Are you really sure you don’t want to go to hospital?” Andy asks again, hoping that this time Ianto will say yes.
“I’m sure,” Ianto says through gritted teeth, the painkillers obviously not having totally kicked in yet.
Opening the first packet of strips Andy hesitates, feeling out of his depth. “It’s going to scar you know, if I do it like this.” He doesn’t really want to use scare tactics, not least because he’s fairly sure that he pretty bad at it, but he feels like he’s got to try one last appeal to common sense.
“It doesn’t matter, it’s not like anybody ever sees me.” Ianto hangs his head and concentrates on breathing evenly. “No one will care.”
There’s not much Andy thinks he can say to that. It’s the bleak certainty in Ianto voice, that he knows that there’s nobody who cares about him, that Andy finds the worst. He can’t imagine what it would be like to truly have nobody. There’s always been his mum and sister, his nan, auntie Ellen and her husband Dave. Not to mention the lads down the station, and Gwen.
As he works Andy notices other marks on Ianto’s skin, old scars that look like they might have been made by claws, a burn on one of his arms that probably isn’t more than a year or two old, and a small scar on his neck which Andy really doesn’t want to think about how it was received. There are bruises as well, some fresh, some faded to nearly healed yellowish blemishes.
Ianto stands stiffly as soon as Andy has finished securing the bandages that cover the steri-strips, the painkillers having finally kicked in.
Walking up the steps from the autopsy room Ianto leans heavily on the stair rail and then the walls as he makes his way to an oversized coffee machine. Reaching it he calls back to Andy, “Do you want milk or sugar?”
“Milk and one sugar.” Disposing of the gloves and washing his hands Andy follows Ianto over to where he’s loading the coffee machine with freshly ground beans. He watches him for a moment before saying conversationally, “this is crazy, you do know that? You’ve been mauled by an alien and now you’re acting like you’re working in Starbucks.”
“I don’t have time to sit and dwell on it. There’s too much too do, there always is. Anyway it wouldn’t help.” He glances down at the bandages, eyes looking a little unfocused now that the painkillers have kicked in. “And if this is the dress code for the Starbucks you go to you might want to consider finding somewhere else to get your coffee.”
“You’re mad.”
“Maybe I am.” Ianto smiles, and hands him a mug.
The coffee is worth waiting for, and is certainly better than the usual vending machine brew that he gets back at the station.
Sitting down on the sofa Andy stares into his coffee for a moment, trying to workout what to say now that the immediate danger seems to have passed. The only thing that comes to mind though is, “So what now?”
“I hadn’t really thought that far ahead.” Ianto doesn’t make eye contact, as he sits down awkwardly, trying not to put too much strain on his injuries. “I suppose I was going to retcon you.”
Whatever retcon is it doesn’t sound good, “Are you?”
“No. Actually I was thinking of offering you a job.”
“Can you do that?” Andy doesn’t want to be rude about it, but Ianto doesn’t really seem to be that high up in Torchwood to be making job offers.
“You didn’t panic when you saw your first alien and I don’t think you’re planning to tell everybody about what Torchwood does at the first opportunity. I doubt that Gwen will mind working with you again, and Tosh and Owen will probably be all right with it if it means us not being short staffed.”
“And Harkness, what will he say?” Given the contact that the police have with Torchwood and Captain Jack Harkness, and the fact that they never get told what’s going on, he’s doubtful that Harkness would be all that keen on giving him a job. It’s not totally out of the question though, he supposes, as they’d had recruited Gwen. But Gwen, to him at least, had always been a special case.
“Jack? I don’t know. He’s away, and we’re not sure when he’s coming back.” Ianto sighs, his tone of voice suggesting it’s probably more a case of if he comes back rather than when.
“He didn’t go with Gwen to the Himalayas then?” It still seems weird, the idea of Gwen being up a mountain somewhere.
“Maybe,” Ianto says sipping his coffee. “We got a call from the prime minister saying that there might be something Rift related opened up in the Himalayas, reports of people just appearing. We hoped one of them might be Jack.”
“He’s disappeared?” That hadn’t really been something he was expecting, although given the TV report he thinks that perhaps he shouldn’t be all that surprised.
“Well gone anyway. We’d gone out to get coffee and when we came back he was gone. He just left without a word.”
There is such an amount of loss in Ianto’s tone that it makes Andy wonder if there is more to the relationship between Ianto and Jack that just boss and employee. Given the rumours back at the station about all things that Jack has said, suggested or very occasionally got caught doing, it doesn’t seem all that surprising he’d get involved with one of his employees. “So why didn’t you go with Gwen and look for him?”
Ianto looks conflicted for a moment, deciding what he can tell Andy. “We decided one of us had to stay here, there wasn’t something quite right about the request, it felt too much like somebody was trying to get us all out of the way. Anyway the Rift still needs monitoring, and Myfanwy and the weevils can’t just be left.”
Andy’s not sure what the Rift is, and somehow he doubts the explanation is something that he really wants to hear or will, in all possibility, understand. “So let me get this straight. The prime minister has sent everybody apart from you to the Himalayas to look for your boss who went missing while everybody had gone out for coffee. But you couldn’t go because somebody had to stay here to feed the aliens and the dinosaur.”
Ianto laughs briefly before wincing and holding his side. “It sounds crazy doesn’t it?”
Crazy doesn’t even begin to cover it as far as Andy is concerned. The conversation starts to trail off as tiredness starts to take hold.
Ianto looks half asleep where he’s leaning back awkwardly on the sofa. Andy yawns and glances down at his watch. Nearly 10am. The broadcast with the PM and the US president would be on in a minute, providing it hadn’t been some kind of wind up. It’s odd to think that only a few hours ago he had thought that the whole alien thing the newspapers had been reporting was a load of rubbish. Now it’s suddenly reality. He wonders if he should be grateful that he’s been one of the few who’ve got an advance warning.
“I don’t suppose you’ve got a TV down here?” He asks looking around at the numerous computer screens, wondering why a team of what appeared to be just five people needed so many.
Ianto opens his eyes, giving him a bleary, confused look, “Why?”
“The new PM, what’s his name, Saxon, he’s going to tell everybody about the aliens. I thought you’d be interested.”
“I guess that’s why he wanted us out of the way.” Ianto’s shoulders seem to slump, before he says a little sadly, “Jack always said that the 21st century is when it all changes. I never really thought he meant like this.”
“The 21st century is when it all changes? That’s a bit cryptic isn’t it?” Andy thinks for a moment before adding, “Anyway how did he know?”
“He just did. Jack always just did.” Ianto smiles faintly, as if remembering something that seems to mean more to him than what he’s just said.
“And you never asked how?” He’d thought that the whole cryptic, not telling the whole truth thing was something that Harkness reserved for dealing with the police or any other official body. Somehow he’d expected him to be a bit more open with the people he actually worked with.
“No. I…” He sighs, looking down at his mug of coffee, expression distant and a little sad. “Asking Jack questions rarely gets you any answers, and even if you do get one, it’s never the one you want.”
“I know a few DIs like that.” Andy finds himself smiling. “So where exactly is he anyway? I saw some news report saying him and a couple of doctors were terrorists?”
Ianto frowns, and then sighs, running his hands through his hair. “The Doctor, I should have known he’d be mixed up in this somehow.”
Getting up slowly, still a little unsteady on his feet, Ianto moves stiffly over to the nearest of the computer terminals and sits down. Switching it on, it only takes him a couple of minutes to get it tuned to the latest news broadcast.
The press conference seems fairly normal at first, especially considering it’s supposed to be about telling the world that aliens exist. Saxon and the US president stand together on the bridge of a ship, while Saxon’s wife stands in the background, looking glamorous but rather disconnected from everything that’s going on around her.
There’s no real indication of where this is happening. Somewhere neutral, Andy guesses, although he’d always thought that tended to be somewhere like Switzerland, and they weren’t really known for having ships, what with the whole being landlocked thing.
Ianto frowns as he watches the armed military personnel at the back of the bridge.
Leaning in a bit closer to the screen, Andy gives him a questioning look. There doesn’t seem to be anything odd about having security for something like this, although the fact that they are obviously armed does seem a bit unusual.
“They’re UNIT troops; they deal with alien threats,” Ianto says as he points at the red-bereted soldiers.
“I thought that’s what you lot do?”
“UNIT do as well. They deal with large scale incidents, threats of invasion, and things outside the UK.”
What happens next is almost too quick to follow clearly. A silver ball appears on screen next to the President, and a moment later he’s dead. The camera covering the press conference swings around wildly, finally focusing on hundreds, maybe even thousands, of the silver aliens streaming past the windows of the ship.
Ianto’s eyes are wide in horror as he covers his mouth with a hand. Keeping the press conference in one corner of the screen, he quickly brings up footage from one of the CCTV cameras in the city centre. For a moment it seems like nothing has happened, and then there is panic, people running for cover inside shops as the aliens descend.
It feels like watching a film. It’s too much to take in, and Andy finds himself staring at the screen open-mouthed, unable to express anything apart from blank horror as he sees people cut down in the street.
Abruptly the monitors go blank, sparing them the sight of the massacre that’s only just beginning. Overhead the lights flicker for a moment before they fail, leaving the cavernous space lit by nothing more than some red LEDs and what Andy thinks look a lot like a few strands of Christmas tree lights.
“What’s happening? Are we under attack? Have they got in here?” Andy looks quickly around for something, anything that he might be able to use to defend himself and Ianto. Not that he thinks it will do much good, but he feels that he should at least try.
“Not exactly.” Ianto’s voice sounds a little distant, disconnected. “We’ve gone into lockdown. Nothing gets in, nothing gets out. We’re safe.”
“Safe?” Andy gives him an incredulous look, “There are people dying out there. We’ve got to help them, get them down here. We’ve got to do something.”
“Can’t. We’re in lockdown.”
“Well there must be a way to unlock it!” The once huge space seems suddenly small and confining, and Andy can start to feel panic set in, replacing the numbness with which he’d watched the initial attack.
“There’s not. Twenty-four hours, if there’s still power, it’ll open by itself.” Getting up from his seat Ianto sways for a moment, hands gripping the edge of the workstation.
“That’s stupid. There’s got to be a way.” Andy starts towards the door. “We could pry it open; there must be something we can use.”
“It won’t work,” Ianto says, rubbing a hand across his eyes. “We just have to wait.”
“My nan is out there!” He gestures at the door, wishing that he didn’t feel quite so helpless. His nan who every Saturday morning would be down at the market, her two fat corgis in tow as she checks the stalls for bargains. He’s glad his mam and sister have gone on holiday, hopefully these things, aliens, whatever the hell they are, won’t get as far as Greece.
“I’m sorry,” Ianto says faintly, still looking at the blank screen.
Sorry seems of very little use right now. Here he was stuck under ground while his family and the city that, as a police officer he was suppose to help protect, were cut down. “So what are we going to do?”
“I don’t know. Lie down.” There’s a tremor in Ianto’s voice as he slowly lets go of the edge of the workstation.
“What sort of plan is that?” Andy snaps, hating how scared, angry and helpless he’s starting to feel. “I thought Torchwood was supposed to deal with this stuff. And what about that UNIT lot, what are they doing?”
Ianto gives him a bleary-eyed look as he sways on his feet, his face shockingly pale in the dim light, as he makes a grab for the edge of the workstation and fails.
Andy barely has time to wrap an arm about Ianto’s waist as his legs buckle, and he slumps against him.
Ianto’s cheek is cold and clammy where it rests against his neck. His pulse, when Andy feels for it, is faint and erratic.
Shock. Andy berates himself that he hadn’t even considered it as he helps Ianto stumble back to the tattered old sofa. He supposes it’s because Ianto has, until this point at least, seemed so calm, so in control, that he just took it for granted that he was going to be all right.
Whether the shock is because of the blood loss or the attack going on outside, or a combination of the two, Andy can’t tell. All he knows is he is woefully unprepared to deal with anything like this. His training is to keep people calm until a medical professional arrives - it’s not to go it alone.
Settling Ianto down as well as he can on the sofa, Andy quickly heads back down to where he’d found the first aid kit. Checking the cupboards, and wishing that he had a torch, he eventually finds what he’s looking for, a foil blanket.
Wrapping the blanket around him, Andy waits until Ianto feels warmer and his pulse running at something like what he thinks is a reasonable level, before deciding it’s time to try to call his nan and find out if she’s okay.
Andy is surprised to see that his hands are shaking as he gets out his mobile. There’s barely any reception down here, but he knows he has to try, if only to try to put his mind at ease.
The call finally connects to voice mail after ringing for long, tense minutes, and Andy can feel the despair start to mount. He decides to leave a message any way, because it seems the more hopeful thing to do. “Hi, nan, just a quick call to see if you’re all right. I’m okay, speak to you later.”
Slipping the mobile back in to his pocket, he sits down on the floor; his back leant against the end of the sofa. Behind him Ianto whimpers softly in his sleep, although whether it’s from pain, fear or both, Andy has no way of knowing.
Closing his eyes for a moment, Andy wonders how he’s managing to stay so calm through what has just happened, and what is probably still happening. He thinks that it might be that the enormity of it just hasn’t properly hit him yet, that he’s still too numb.
It’s hard to make sense of everything, of the destruction that has happened and how nothing is going to be the same ever again. He’s sure that having been awake for nearly twenty-four hours isn’t helping either.
* * *
It’s evening when Andy wakes, disturbed from a sleep that he hadn’t realised he’d fallen into by Ianto’s pained gasp as he tries to sit up.
The Hub is still lit by emergency lighting as Andy helps Ianto to his feet and walks him slowly over to where the toilets are.
Ianto still seems disorientated as Andy helps him walk unsteadily back to the sofa, where, as soon as he lies back down, he falls asleep again.
As the night progresses Ianto’s temperature start to slowly climb. By dawn, although it’s only his watch that tells Andy that it’s morning once more, Ianto is running a fever, his hair sticking damply to his pain creased forehead.
Twenty-four hours comes and goes without any of the Hub’s systems powering back up. While Ianto continues to lie on the sofa shivering and moving restlessly in his sleep, waking only when Andy rouses him give him more painkillers and some water.
Being trapped in the surprisingly well-hidden underground base of the country’s least secret secret organisation while aliens attack the planet is, Andy thinks, something that should only happen in a sci-fi film or a TV show. It certainly shouldn’t be happening to a PC from Cardiff whose most pressing concern, just a day ago, was whether he should go to a rugby match or not.
It’s not that he doesn’t believe that they are locked in. It’s just that he can’t sit around and do nothing; it’s not how he does things. Anyway, keeping busy means that he has less time to wonder how his family are, whether his friends have survived and if he’s going to get out of this alive.
There’s not much that’s accessible, most of the substantial metal doors having sealed themselves when the lockdown took effect. There’s an office, with a hatchway down to a cramped and barely furnished bedroom, which Andy can only imagine is used in emergencies. There is also a corridor with a couple of old arcade games machines, neither of which works due to the lack of power. And what appears to be an interview room. Andy can’t quite imagine how you’d interview a weevil or a pterodactyl, so he suspects that Torchwood must also deal with other, more talkative aliens.
There are lower levels as well as the garage and cells that the weevils are in, Andy’s sure of that. However, all doors remain stubbornly closed despite his efforts to open them.
It’s disheartening, the lack of success in finding anything useful or any way out. The constant twilight of the Hub’s back up lighting systems doesn’t help; neither does the constant fear that they might fail at any time, leaving them trapped in complete darkness.
Finishing his exploration of the Hub, he goes back to check on Ianto, hoping that the combination of painkillers and few hours rest will have helped.
There’s no improvement, and Ianto seems only half conscious of what is going on as Andy hands him a glass of water and puts a damp cloth on his forehead.
The afternoon drags on and by evening, Ianto’s temperature has continued to climb to the point that he is shaking, skin hot and dry as fever takes hold.
The cause of Ianto’s fever becomes obvious once Andy changes the bandages over the wounds; one of the claw marks is red, angry and inflamed.
Cleaning the wounds and putting on more antiseptic gel, before redressing it is, Andy finds, is one of the hardest things he's had to do. Not only because he feels ill equipped to deal with it, but because Ianto is so distressed by it.
Delirious, Ianto tries to fight Andy off, incoherently pleading with him not to eat him or convert him. Andy doesn’t know what Ianto believes is happening, and given the abject terror on Ianto's face and the fear in his voice, he’s glad that he doesn’t.
Andy doubts that the sofa is comfortable, but he's not been able to find any other way down into the cramped bedroom under the office apart from climbing through the hatchway. A hatchway that's not big enough for him to climb through while carrying Ianto, and he knows that there is no way that Ianto will be able to manage to climb down by himself.
The Hub echoes with the sound of dripping water, which Andy suspects is from the rain running down the fountain on the Plas above. The only other sounds are the occasional squawk from Myfanwy as she circles the Hub, seemingly confused at what is happening, and the jumbled words and cries from Ianto as he alternates between fever driven nightmares and near unconsciousness.
The fact that the Hub is cool, bordering on cold and Ianto is near naked seems to have little effect on reducing the fever that's raging through him.
Even with no medical training beyond a basic first aid certificate, Andy can see that Ianto is struggling to fight off the infection unaided. Andy knows what Ianto really needs is a doctor, access to a hospital and a course of antibiotics. Getting the first two are out of the question given their current situation, but the antibiotics might not be impossible given how well the first aid kit had been stocked.
Most of the cupboards in the autopsy bay are locked, and it seems to be nothing more than an exercise in frustration as he forces open cupboards and drawers to find nothing useful inside.
Eventually, as Andy is about to give up hope of finding anything that might actually help one of the cupboards proves to be some form of medicine cabinet. Most of the bottles and packets bear names that are unfamiliar, but there are a couple that are labelled as penicillin.
There aren’t any instructions, but Andy remembers from a couple of years ago when he’d cut his hand open trying to help a friend dismantle an old greenhouse, that he’d been prescribed penicillin and told to take two every six hours. He hopes these are something similar.
Putting the tablets and a mug of water down on the floor by the side of the sofa, Andy gently shakes Ianto’s shoulder. “You need to wake up for a minute, okay?”
“Hurts,” Ianto groans softly before slowly opens his eyes. Eyes that are too bright with fever and too unfocused for any real comprehension.
“Sorry.” Andy slips an arm under Ianto’s shoulders, trying to hold him a little more upright so that he can take the tablets without choking on them.
“It’s all right, Jack,” Ianto sighs, leaning against Andy, his eyes closing again. “You stopped them.”
“I’m not…” Andy stops as he sees some of the tension leave Ianto’s face as he settles against his arm. He doesn’t like the idea of lying to Ianto, but if it gives him some comfort, then he’ll do it.
Taking the cloth off Ianto’s forehead, Andy tips some of the water from the mug onto it, and wipes the sweat from Ianto’s face and neck, trying not to worry about just how limp Ianto feels against him.
“I never thought it would be aliens,” Andy says with a fake cheerfulness that he really doesn’t feel. He’s not sure that Ianto is listening or if he’ll understand what Andy’s saying, but the silence of the last couple of days has been getting to him. He knows that talking is probably as much for his own sanity as to try to reassure Ianto that he’s not alone. “I suppose it could be worse. At least it’s not zombies. Colin always said it would be zombies.”
“What with zombies?” Ianto asks, his voice a little slurred as he opens his eyes again.
“The end of the world. Colin said it would be zombies. Liz on traffic said it would be a meteor strike or something like that.” They’d had some odd conversations in the station canteen in the early hours of the morning as they’d tried to catch up on coffee fuelled paper work. Andy wonders if Colin is disappointed or relieved that it’s aliens rather than zombies. Either way he hopes that Colin is still around to be relieved or disappointed at anything.
“Not Suzie?” Ianto frowns, squinting into the darkness of the Hub. “There’s not another glove?”
“I don’t think there’s any gloves.” Andy’s not sure what someone called Suzie or gloves might have to do with zombies, or even if that’s what Ianto means.
Taking two of the tablets out of the packet, he tries to reassure Ianto. “I’ve not seen any.”
“Good.” Ianto grimaces at the taste of the tablets, but swallows them as Andy holds the mug of water so he can drink.
“Do you want to try and eat something?” Andy asks once Ianto has finished the water.
Ianto shakes his head and mumbles something that Andy can’t quite catch, before putting an arm around him. “Don’t go.” Ianto sounds lost as he holds on tightly to Andy’s shirt.
“I won’t.” Hoping that he’s doing the right thing, Andy lets Ianto hold onto him until he falls asleep.
* * *
There doesn’t seem to be any improvement between the first and second doses, and Andy worries that he’s not given Ianto enough. Or that he’s given him too much. Or that he’s just left it too late for the medicine to do Ianto any good.
Time seems to drag, minutes stretching out until they feel like hours, but eventually Ianto’s fever breaks. His temperature gradually reduces over the course of the day, and by the following morning, although still a little feverish, Ianto is lucid.
Ianto still looks sick and exhausted as he sits up and looks around at the dimly lit Hub. His expression is as much one of confusion as it is of concern, as he asks, “How long?”
“Nearly three days,” Andy says, as he walks over from where he’d been checking their dwindling food supply and sits down on the sofa beside him.
“There’s still no power?”
“I know.” Andy hands him a couple of cereal bars. Not the healthiest of choices Andy knows, but there’s not much else that he can offer him.
“I should get up, check the fuses. If the power has been out this long…”
“If it’s been out this long it can wait a bit longer,” Andy says firmly, not wanting Ianto to push himself too hard too soon. “You should try to eat something.”
Ianto nods and slowly unwraps one of the cereal bars. “All right, but then I’m getting up.” He glances down at himself, seeming to notice for the first time that he’s mostly undressed. “And I’m finding some clothes.”
Andy not sure that it’s a good idea for Ianto to be getting up yet, not when only a day before he’d been so sick and delirious that he’d thought Jack was there. But short of physically forcing Ianto to lie back down and rest, Andy knows there’s not really anything that he can do.
As soon as Ianto’s finished eating he gets up. Moving stiffly and occasionally stopping to lean against the wall, Ianto refuses any assistance from Andy as they slowly make their way to Jack’s office.
The fact that Ianto has a spare set of clothes where he works doesn’t surprise Andy. It was a fairly usual thing back at the station as well, so that you had something to change into after getting out of uniform.
The fact that Ianto’s spare set of clothes are hung up next to his boss’s, and that Ianto smiles slightly as he picks up a tie that’s fallen on the floor, saying quietly, “And you said you didn’t have it,” makes Andy almost sure that his earlier suspicion, that there really had been something going on between Ianto and Jack, had been correct.
Not that it’s any of his business, Andy decides, as Ianto gets dressed. Although he has to admit that, despite never really having any feelings in that direction himself, he can see why somebody would be attracted to Ianto.
The fuse box, which proves to be on the opposite side of the Hub, is behind a nondescript metal panel, and Andy thinks that he could have searched for days without ever finding it.
Andy keeps close as Ianto starts to flick switches in the fuse box. Repairing electrics has never really been Andy’s thing. The idea that only a small amount of plastic coating on the wires separates him from several thousand volts has always been enough to make him leave it to a professional.
When none of the switches seem to work, Ianto picks up the voltmeter that’s lying at the bottom of the fuse box. The lights on the meter stay resolutely blank as he tests the current across the wires.
“The national grid seems to be off, or at least any part of it which connects with Cardiff. Nothing is going to power up,” Ianto says frustratedly as he closes the panel to the fuse box with rather more force than is necessary.
“There’s no way out then?” The hope that Andy had been clinging to, that somehow Ianto would just flick a switch and they would be able to get out, is dashed.
“There’s no way of powering up all the systems, but,” Ianto starts walking towards the office, “there should be a couple things in the safe that we can use.”
Opening the safe, Ianto hands Andy two angular metal objects before closing it again.
There’s nothing about the objects that Andy finds recognisable as any form of technology that he’s seen before. Turning them over in his hands, he’s not even sure how or if you plug them in or even if they are switched on or not.
Ianto smiles slightly at his confusion. “They’re alien if you’re wondering.” He points to the slightly larger of the two devises. “That one is a power cell, the other is for opening locks.”
“Do they work?”
Ianto frowns as he takes the power cell back from Andy, saying, “They should do. There’s not much of a charge left in this one. But there should be enough to get one of the computers working for a couple of hours or so.”
part two, part three, part four.
Author: the-silver-sun
Fandom(s): Torchwood and Doctor Who
Genre and pairings (if applicable): Action/Adventure/Romance. Ianto Jones/Andy Davidson.
Rating: R
Beta(s): Santousha and Dvanulya. Thank you for all your hard work.
Spoilers: series one of Torchwood and series three of Doctor Who
Warnings: Temporary major character death.
Word Count 30k
Summary: When PC Andy Davidson meets Ianto Jones the day after Harold Saxon is elected Prime Minister he has no idea of the devastation that is about to happen to Earth, or the fact that Ianto Jones will come to mean a great deal to him as they try to survive.
Notes: This is canon compliant for series one of Torchwood and series three of Doctor Who, but not afterwards.
The world has gone nuts; it’s the only logical explanation. Or at least that’s Andy’s opinion as he glances at the newspaper headlines. Where they proclaim, with varying degrees of sensationalism, that the newly elected prime minister along with the president of the United States are going to meet with aliens on board some UN ship. It’s either that or the newspapers are printing the April fools day joke a month late.
It’s as mad as the news broadcast he’d caught the previous day that had claimed that Captain Harkness, but apparently not the rest of Torchwood, was a terrorist. It was obviously a load of bollocks, well unless extreme innuendo has become recognised form of terrorism while he wasn’t looking, and he’s pretty sure it hasn’t.
He’s also sure that if he could speak to Gwen he’d be able to find out just what the hell was going on. So far though all he’s managed to get is the voice mail on her mobile. He’s left her a few messages, but she hasn’t called him back. Not that that’s so unusual these days, he thinks with some annoyance, once she used to reply straight away, now he’s lucky if it’s the same week.
Paying the bored looking woman at the checkout, and wondering how people who work shifts ever managed before the advent of twenty-hour supermarkets, Andy starts his short walk home.
It’s not a bad morning really, Andy reflects as he opens his sandwich and eats as he walks. Five am in the Cathays area of Cardiff seems amazingly peaceful, especially after his last shift. Friday night on Queen’s Street, especially on a Friday where Cardiff City had been utterly panned by QPR, hadn’t exactly been quiet or fun.
He’s about three streets from his flat, and debating whether to or not he should text Darren and find out if he’s still got that spare ticket for the rugby match on Sunday when he hears a noise.
In an alleyway just across the road from him there is a shout followed by the sound of breaking glass and a series of growls which make the hair stand up on the back of his neck.
“I’m going to regret this, I just know it,” Andy mutters to himself as he looks around at the deserted street. Then, putting down his bag of shopping, he goes over to the alleyway to investigate.
Parked at the back of the alley is a large, black and very familiar SUV.
Bloody Torchwood.
Andy hesitates, knowing that he be better off just walking back out the alley and leaving them to it. It’s not like they’d tell me what was going on anyway, he thinks crossly.
But if he does take the chance he might be able to ask Gwen and find out what’s really going on. Making his decision he walks forward.
“I might have known it’d be you lot,” he says a little louder than necessary, knowing that Torchwood tended to go around armed and startling anybody who was armed was likely to be an incredibly stupid idea.
Appearing from around the side of the SUV is a man in a suit. A little out of breath he leans against the side of the vehicle as he approaches, saying, “You’re Andy Davidson aren’t you? Gwen’s friend in the police.”
“How’d you know that? And who are you?” He’s fairly sure that he’s not seen this guy before. When Torchwood showed up it was nearly always Jack and Gwen, with the occasional edition of either a grumpy Londoner or a quiet Japanese woman.
“Ianto Jones, Torchwood.” He starts to offer his hand to Andy to shake, but a look of pain crosses his face and he returns the hand to where it had been held against his side.
“Are you all right?” Andy asks stepping closer, trying to get a better look at him.
“Not exactly.” His voice is taut, pained. Closing his eyes he bites his lip for a moment before continuing, “I know you’re interested in what Torchwood does, Gwen’s told me as much.” Stopping again he takes a sharp breath, pressing his hand tighter against his side, “How would you like to find out?”
“What’s the catch?” Andy asks warily, wishing there was more light in the alley so that he can see how badly Ianto is hurt. Because Andy is pretty sure that he is hurt. “And where’s Gwen and the rest of you lot?”
“No catch.” He bites his lip again, “I just need you drive me down Roald Dahl Plas, and then help me unload the SUV.”
“Where’s Gwen?” Andy looks around again.
“Right now? Katmandu, probably.”
“What that curry place over in Splott? That’s closed.” He’d always suspected that there was some reason other than lack of money it was closed down. Maybe they’d been using dodgy meat or something. All the same it was a bit weird to go looking at it so early in the morning. But then, Andy supposes a bit weird is what Torchwood does really well.
“I mean the place, in Nepal. The Himalayas,” Ianto says with a weary resignation, like he’s explained it a dozen times already.
Andy’s heard desk sergeants use pretty much the same tone after a long night on duty; it’s still annoying to be on the receiving end of it. “Well there’s no need to be rude about it.”
Ianto sags against the side of the SUV, “Sorry, it’s just this really is important, please. Could you just drive me to the Plas?”
Light from one the street lamp catches Ianto’s hand as he sags and Andy can see the blood on it where it’s held tight against his side.
“You’re bleeding, I should take you to A&E.”
“You can’t, it’s too dangerous. They’d ask too many questions, and I can’t risk anyone finding out I’m still here.” Still leaning against the side of the SUV Ianto makes his way slowly round to the front passenger seat.
Andy is about to ask why it would be too dangerous when something in the back of the SUV growls and slams against the side of the vehicle causing it to shake.
“What was that?” Andy steps back, rather more shaken by the strange noise than he would like to admit. “What have you got in there? A bear?” He’s fairly sure that it isn’t, after all what would a bear be doing in an alleyway in Cardiff? Only it doesn’t sound like a dog, not even a really big, really angry one.
“You know a bear would be easier to explain. A lot easier.” Ianto seems almost amused, as he ignores the continuing growls and gets into the vehicle. “Could we get going now, please?”
“All right,” Andy says getting into the drivers seat. Although the interior is as heavily modified as the exterior Andy is pleased to note that the modifications don’t seem to have extended to the actual way in which it drives.
Ianto looks pale and drawn in the seat beside him, the odd blue lighting in the SUV doing nothing for his complexion. He bites back a gasp of pain as he tries to fasten his seatbelt, fingers slipping bloody across the catch.
“You sure you don’t want to get that seen to?” Andy asks as he gets the SUV in gear and slowly manoeuvres it out of the narrow alleyway.
Ianto looks at him through half closed eyes. “Didn’t say that, I said no hospitals. Everything I need is back at the…” He hesitates, eyes closing for a moment, “Back at where I work.”
“Is there anybody there that can help?” Andy looks down at where the blood has welled through Ianto’s fingers and started to stain the seat. It’s hard to tell just how much it there is or how bad the injury might be, he just hopes that he’s doing the right thing by taking Ianto back to wherever it is that they are going.
Ianto shakes his head, his voice with tight with something that isn’t all physical pain when he replies, “No, there’s just me. I’ll manage.” He gives Andy a pained smile, as he takes a handkerchief from his pocket and holds it over where he’s bleeding. “I always do.”
“So Gwen really is in Tibet?” Andy decides to change the subject, hoping to find out a bit more about what’s going on. It just doesn’t seem to him the sort of place that Gwen would go, and he can’t imagine her going on holiday with Rhys somewhere like that.
“Nepal. Yes.” Ianto grits his teeth as the SUV goes over a speed bump, “Just something that needed looking into. A case.”
The streets are almost completely deserted this early in the morning so it only takes a few minutes to reach the edge of Roald Dahl Plas.
“Turn left here.”
“The Millennium centre car park?” Andy gives him a questioning look.
Ianto nods, “lowest level, far left hand corner.” He takes a plastic key card from his suit pocket and hands it to Andy.
“To pay for parking?” Torchwood going by the rules? That, in Andy’s experience, would be a first.
“To get into our garage.” Ianto closes his eyes again, breathing slowly, trying to psych himself up for getting out of the SUV.
The car park is completely unremarkable and there doesn’t seem to be anything particularly interesting about the far left hand corner either. Just a roller shuttered door to what looks like it should be some kind of goods lift.
Leaving the engine running, Andy gets out and looks at the door. There’s a small swipe card slot just to the left of it, but nothing else. No controls, no indication as to what floor the lift is on or even how many floors there are.
The panel beeps as Andy swipes the card through it and the shutter rolls up to reveal a downward sloping corridor. Getting back in the SUV Andy gives Ianto a questioning look.
“The things we load and unload out of the SUV we tend to not want an audience for,” Ianto replies.
“But you’re showing me. Isn’t that against the rules or something?” Andy’s still not totally convinced that there isn’t some ulterior motive in getting him to come here. He can’t actually think what it might be, but it doesn’t hurt to be cautious, not where Torchwood is concerned.
“Maybe. It wouldn’t be the worst thing that I’ve done though.”
At the end of the corridor is a rather ordinary looking garage. It’s something of a disappointment after the rather hi tech interior of the SUV, although any thought of mentioning it is scrapped when there is another growl from the back of the SUV and something starts to slam violently against the walls, attempting to escape.
Ianto slowly gets out of the SUV, a hand still pressed tightly against his side. He sways slightly on his feet as he moves round the vehicle. Opening the rear passenger door he drags a bag across the seat until it falls out the SUV with a thump.
In the light harsh fluorescent lighting of the garage Andy can see the pain and tiredness on Ianto’s face. A face that is younger than Andy had first realised, one maybe younger than himself.
There’s not much time for thought though as there is another snarl from the back of the SUV, and what sounds like claws scratching and scrabbling against metal.
“Are you going to tell me what’s in there?” he asks, wondering if he’ll actually get a straight answer.
“An alien.”
So much for getting a remotely sensible answer. “Really?”
Ianto ignores Andy’s disbelieving look and tone, opening the duffel bag to retrieve an aerosol can, some netting and a very large syringe. “We call them weevils. They live in the sewers, and as long as they don’t cause trouble we leave them alone.”
“You’re not joking, are you?”
Ianto shakes his head, then looks as if he regrets the sudden movement. Leaning against the side of the SUV he closes his eyes and takes several deep, unsteady breaths.
“Are you all right?” Andy asks stepping closer, wondering if Ianto is going to pass out, throw up or possibly both.
“I will be. Let’s get this over with.”
Andy is about to ask just what it is that they are going to be doing when Ianto hands him the net.
“I’m going to open the door, when I do, throw the net over what comes out. I’ll do the rest.”
If the rest involved bleeding on it and possibly passing out Andy thinks Ianto has probably got it well covered. Anything else and he’s not so sure.
“Ready?” Ianto asks, hand already on the boot catch.
“As I’ll ever be.” Andy doubts that he’ll every really be ready to see an alien, if that is really what’s in there.
Ianto seems to take that as a yes and what happens next is mostly a blur, taking just a few seconds. The boot opens, and Andy throws the net and Ianto jabs the syringe into the back of the creature’s neck.
The first impression that Andy gets of the weevil even before it has stopped thrashing about in the net is the smell. The second, once it has stopped moving is that it’s probably one of the ugliest creatures that he’s ever seen.
Ianto is breathing raggedly as he puts the syringe back in the duffel bag before turning back to Andy. “That should keep him knocked out for about half an hour.”
It’s all too surreal, Andy decides as he drags the unconscious weevil into a lift and takes it down to what appears to be a cell block, while Ianto opens doors for him and gives directions. He’s sure there are questions that he should be asking, but at the moment nothing specific comes to mind.
Another weevil growls at them from its cell as they pass it, it sounds more questioning than threatening.
Just how many of these things are in here? Andy wonders as he tries to work out how he’s managed to live in Cardiff pretty much all his life and has avoided seeing one of these things until now. He’s always thought of himself as being more observant than that.
“That one’s Janet,” Ianto says a little breathlessly as they drag the still thankfully unconscious weevil into a cell.
“Janet? I suppose this one’s Brad.”
Ianto blinks at him, looking a little dizzy as he closes the door to the cell.
“Rocky Horror Show. You know Brad and Janet, and that guy in a corset who was really an alien.”
“Oh yeah.” Ianto leans weakly against the wall now that the alien has been secured, starting to shiver.
“Are you going to let me take you to A&E now, or would you prefer to expire quietly down here?”
Ianto’s mouth quirks into a pained smile, “Tempting, but no.”
“I hope you mean A&E,” Andy says as much to himself as to Ianto.
Ianto stumbles against him as they start walking, “So do I.”
By the time they reach the substantial metal door at the top of the stairs Ianto is leaning heavily on him, a thin sheen on perspiration on his face from the effort of keeping himself moving.
The door rolls aside to reveal a huge cavernous space that seems to be equal parts underground station and hi-tech office, with possibly a bit of mad scientist’s laboratory thrown in for good measure.
Andy is still trying to take it all in when something overhead screeches. Looking up he catches a brief glimpse of something large and airborne circling above them.
“What was that?” Andy flattens himself back against the wall, pulling Ianto with him.
“It’s just Myfanwy.” Ianto bites his lip, the sudden movement obviously having hurt more than he’s going to admit.
The creature circles lower before perching on a metal girder above them.
“It’s a dinosaur. Pterodactyl.” Aliens and dinosaurs, Andy thinks, are all a bit much to take in before breakfast.
“Pterodon actually. She’s won’t hurt us.”
Still a little dubious about having a dinosaur watching him, and possibly considering them as food, Andy glances up occasionally at the creature as they cross the open space.
Ianto is unsteady on his feet, his complexion almost grey with exhaustion as they walk down the steps into what Andy thinks looks suspiciously like an autopsy bay.
Once Ianto has sat down, Andy helps him to remove his suit jacket. Andy takes a sharp breath as he sees the amount of blood that has soaked through Ianto’s shirt. The cuts, gouges really, that have been made by the weevil’s claws are visible through gaps in the shredded material. Starting low on Ianto’s back, they curl downward around his side, ending just above his hip.
Looking around, Andy asks, “Have you got a first aid kit?” A first aid kit seems a little insubstantial for what he is being asked to do, but there isn’t anything else he can think of to ask for.
Ianto nods, looking like he’s still trying to concentrate on not passing out, before waving a bloody hand in the direction of one of the cabinets.
Opening what is most probably the most well stocked first aid kit he’s ever seen, Andy puts on a pair of latex gloves.
Ianto’s near silent stoicism in the face of what Andy thinks is probably quite a lot of a pain finally crumbles as Andy tries to peel the shirt away from where half-dried blood has stuck it to the cuts.
“Stop,” Ianto asks hoarsely, voice rough from trying to contain the pain.
“I can try to soak it off,” Andy offers, glancing over at the sink. He’s not sure that it’s going to be all that effective.
Ianto takes a shuddering breath, then shakes his head. “Just get me the packet in the drawer over there.”
The packet is of prescription strength painkillers. Turning it over Andy reads the instructions: no more than 2 tablets every six hours, not to be taken with alcohol.
Taking a single tablet from the packet Ianto dry swallows it, grimacing at the taste.
“You can take another one if you want.” Andy takes the packet back off Ianto.
“No. Last time Owen gave me these they knocked me out for hours. One will be enough.”
The wounds look deep enough that Andy is sure that they should probably be stitched. Even though there is a suture set in the first aid kit he doesn’t feel confident enough to use it. Because the last time he’d attempted to sew anything it had been a button back on a shirt, and it had fallen off again the next time he’d worn it.
There are a lot of steri-strips though, as well as bandages and some anti-sceptic sprays and gels. He just hopes that it’s enough to do the job.
Spraying antiseptic over the sluggishly bleeding wounds, Andy tries not to think of how much it must still hurt. “Are you really sure you don’t want to go to hospital?” Andy asks again, hoping that this time Ianto will say yes.
“I’m sure,” Ianto says through gritted teeth, the painkillers obviously not having totally kicked in yet.
Opening the first packet of strips Andy hesitates, feeling out of his depth. “It’s going to scar you know, if I do it like this.” He doesn’t really want to use scare tactics, not least because he’s fairly sure that he pretty bad at it, but he feels like he’s got to try one last appeal to common sense.
“It doesn’t matter, it’s not like anybody ever sees me.” Ianto hangs his head and concentrates on breathing evenly. “No one will care.”
There’s not much Andy thinks he can say to that. It’s the bleak certainty in Ianto voice, that he knows that there’s nobody who cares about him, that Andy finds the worst. He can’t imagine what it would be like to truly have nobody. There’s always been his mum and sister, his nan, auntie Ellen and her husband Dave. Not to mention the lads down the station, and Gwen.
As he works Andy notices other marks on Ianto’s skin, old scars that look like they might have been made by claws, a burn on one of his arms that probably isn’t more than a year or two old, and a small scar on his neck which Andy really doesn’t want to think about how it was received. There are bruises as well, some fresh, some faded to nearly healed yellowish blemishes.
Ianto stands stiffly as soon as Andy has finished securing the bandages that cover the steri-strips, the painkillers having finally kicked in.
Walking up the steps from the autopsy room Ianto leans heavily on the stair rail and then the walls as he makes his way to an oversized coffee machine. Reaching it he calls back to Andy, “Do you want milk or sugar?”
“Milk and one sugar.” Disposing of the gloves and washing his hands Andy follows Ianto over to where he’s loading the coffee machine with freshly ground beans. He watches him for a moment before saying conversationally, “this is crazy, you do know that? You’ve been mauled by an alien and now you’re acting like you’re working in Starbucks.”
“I don’t have time to sit and dwell on it. There’s too much too do, there always is. Anyway it wouldn’t help.” He glances down at the bandages, eyes looking a little unfocused now that the painkillers have kicked in. “And if this is the dress code for the Starbucks you go to you might want to consider finding somewhere else to get your coffee.”
“You’re mad.”
“Maybe I am.” Ianto smiles, and hands him a mug.
The coffee is worth waiting for, and is certainly better than the usual vending machine brew that he gets back at the station.
Sitting down on the sofa Andy stares into his coffee for a moment, trying to workout what to say now that the immediate danger seems to have passed. The only thing that comes to mind though is, “So what now?”
“I hadn’t really thought that far ahead.” Ianto doesn’t make eye contact, as he sits down awkwardly, trying not to put too much strain on his injuries. “I suppose I was going to retcon you.”
Whatever retcon is it doesn’t sound good, “Are you?”
“No. Actually I was thinking of offering you a job.”
“Can you do that?” Andy doesn’t want to be rude about it, but Ianto doesn’t really seem to be that high up in Torchwood to be making job offers.
“You didn’t panic when you saw your first alien and I don’t think you’re planning to tell everybody about what Torchwood does at the first opportunity. I doubt that Gwen will mind working with you again, and Tosh and Owen will probably be all right with it if it means us not being short staffed.”
“And Harkness, what will he say?” Given the contact that the police have with Torchwood and Captain Jack Harkness, and the fact that they never get told what’s going on, he’s doubtful that Harkness would be all that keen on giving him a job. It’s not totally out of the question though, he supposes, as they’d had recruited Gwen. But Gwen, to him at least, had always been a special case.
“Jack? I don’t know. He’s away, and we’re not sure when he’s coming back.” Ianto sighs, his tone of voice suggesting it’s probably more a case of if he comes back rather than when.
“He didn’t go with Gwen to the Himalayas then?” It still seems weird, the idea of Gwen being up a mountain somewhere.
“Maybe,” Ianto says sipping his coffee. “We got a call from the prime minister saying that there might be something Rift related opened up in the Himalayas, reports of people just appearing. We hoped one of them might be Jack.”
“He’s disappeared?” That hadn’t really been something he was expecting, although given the TV report he thinks that perhaps he shouldn’t be all that surprised.
“Well gone anyway. We’d gone out to get coffee and when we came back he was gone. He just left without a word.”
There is such an amount of loss in Ianto’s tone that it makes Andy wonder if there is more to the relationship between Ianto and Jack that just boss and employee. Given the rumours back at the station about all things that Jack has said, suggested or very occasionally got caught doing, it doesn’t seem all that surprising he’d get involved with one of his employees. “So why didn’t you go with Gwen and look for him?”
Ianto looks conflicted for a moment, deciding what he can tell Andy. “We decided one of us had to stay here, there wasn’t something quite right about the request, it felt too much like somebody was trying to get us all out of the way. Anyway the Rift still needs monitoring, and Myfanwy and the weevils can’t just be left.”
Andy’s not sure what the Rift is, and somehow he doubts the explanation is something that he really wants to hear or will, in all possibility, understand. “So let me get this straight. The prime minister has sent everybody apart from you to the Himalayas to look for your boss who went missing while everybody had gone out for coffee. But you couldn’t go because somebody had to stay here to feed the aliens and the dinosaur.”
Ianto laughs briefly before wincing and holding his side. “It sounds crazy doesn’t it?”
Crazy doesn’t even begin to cover it as far as Andy is concerned. The conversation starts to trail off as tiredness starts to take hold.
Ianto looks half asleep where he’s leaning back awkwardly on the sofa. Andy yawns and glances down at his watch. Nearly 10am. The broadcast with the PM and the US president would be on in a minute, providing it hadn’t been some kind of wind up. It’s odd to think that only a few hours ago he had thought that the whole alien thing the newspapers had been reporting was a load of rubbish. Now it’s suddenly reality. He wonders if he should be grateful that he’s been one of the few who’ve got an advance warning.
“I don’t suppose you’ve got a TV down here?” He asks looking around at the numerous computer screens, wondering why a team of what appeared to be just five people needed so many.
Ianto opens his eyes, giving him a bleary, confused look, “Why?”
“The new PM, what’s his name, Saxon, he’s going to tell everybody about the aliens. I thought you’d be interested.”
“I guess that’s why he wanted us out of the way.” Ianto’s shoulders seem to slump, before he says a little sadly, “Jack always said that the 21st century is when it all changes. I never really thought he meant like this.”
“The 21st century is when it all changes? That’s a bit cryptic isn’t it?” Andy thinks for a moment before adding, “Anyway how did he know?”
“He just did. Jack always just did.” Ianto smiles faintly, as if remembering something that seems to mean more to him than what he’s just said.
“And you never asked how?” He’d thought that the whole cryptic, not telling the whole truth thing was something that Harkness reserved for dealing with the police or any other official body. Somehow he’d expected him to be a bit more open with the people he actually worked with.
“No. I…” He sighs, looking down at his mug of coffee, expression distant and a little sad. “Asking Jack questions rarely gets you any answers, and even if you do get one, it’s never the one you want.”
“I know a few DIs like that.” Andy finds himself smiling. “So where exactly is he anyway? I saw some news report saying him and a couple of doctors were terrorists?”
Ianto frowns, and then sighs, running his hands through his hair. “The Doctor, I should have known he’d be mixed up in this somehow.”
Getting up slowly, still a little unsteady on his feet, Ianto moves stiffly over to the nearest of the computer terminals and sits down. Switching it on, it only takes him a couple of minutes to get it tuned to the latest news broadcast.
The press conference seems fairly normal at first, especially considering it’s supposed to be about telling the world that aliens exist. Saxon and the US president stand together on the bridge of a ship, while Saxon’s wife stands in the background, looking glamorous but rather disconnected from everything that’s going on around her.
There’s no real indication of where this is happening. Somewhere neutral, Andy guesses, although he’d always thought that tended to be somewhere like Switzerland, and they weren’t really known for having ships, what with the whole being landlocked thing.
Ianto frowns as he watches the armed military personnel at the back of the bridge.
Leaning in a bit closer to the screen, Andy gives him a questioning look. There doesn’t seem to be anything odd about having security for something like this, although the fact that they are obviously armed does seem a bit unusual.
“They’re UNIT troops; they deal with alien threats,” Ianto says as he points at the red-bereted soldiers.
“I thought that’s what you lot do?”
“UNIT do as well. They deal with large scale incidents, threats of invasion, and things outside the UK.”
What happens next is almost too quick to follow clearly. A silver ball appears on screen next to the President, and a moment later he’s dead. The camera covering the press conference swings around wildly, finally focusing on hundreds, maybe even thousands, of the silver aliens streaming past the windows of the ship.
Ianto’s eyes are wide in horror as he covers his mouth with a hand. Keeping the press conference in one corner of the screen, he quickly brings up footage from one of the CCTV cameras in the city centre. For a moment it seems like nothing has happened, and then there is panic, people running for cover inside shops as the aliens descend.
It feels like watching a film. It’s too much to take in, and Andy finds himself staring at the screen open-mouthed, unable to express anything apart from blank horror as he sees people cut down in the street.
Abruptly the monitors go blank, sparing them the sight of the massacre that’s only just beginning. Overhead the lights flicker for a moment before they fail, leaving the cavernous space lit by nothing more than some red LEDs and what Andy thinks look a lot like a few strands of Christmas tree lights.
“What’s happening? Are we under attack? Have they got in here?” Andy looks quickly around for something, anything that he might be able to use to defend himself and Ianto. Not that he thinks it will do much good, but he feels that he should at least try.
“Not exactly.” Ianto’s voice sounds a little distant, disconnected. “We’ve gone into lockdown. Nothing gets in, nothing gets out. We’re safe.”
“Safe?” Andy gives him an incredulous look, “There are people dying out there. We’ve got to help them, get them down here. We’ve got to do something.”
“Can’t. We’re in lockdown.”
“Well there must be a way to unlock it!” The once huge space seems suddenly small and confining, and Andy can start to feel panic set in, replacing the numbness with which he’d watched the initial attack.
“There’s not. Twenty-four hours, if there’s still power, it’ll open by itself.” Getting up from his seat Ianto sways for a moment, hands gripping the edge of the workstation.
“That’s stupid. There’s got to be a way.” Andy starts towards the door. “We could pry it open; there must be something we can use.”
“It won’t work,” Ianto says, rubbing a hand across his eyes. “We just have to wait.”
“My nan is out there!” He gestures at the door, wishing that he didn’t feel quite so helpless. His nan who every Saturday morning would be down at the market, her two fat corgis in tow as she checks the stalls for bargains. He’s glad his mam and sister have gone on holiday, hopefully these things, aliens, whatever the hell they are, won’t get as far as Greece.
“I’m sorry,” Ianto says faintly, still looking at the blank screen.
Sorry seems of very little use right now. Here he was stuck under ground while his family and the city that, as a police officer he was suppose to help protect, were cut down. “So what are we going to do?”
“I don’t know. Lie down.” There’s a tremor in Ianto’s voice as he slowly lets go of the edge of the workstation.
“What sort of plan is that?” Andy snaps, hating how scared, angry and helpless he’s starting to feel. “I thought Torchwood was supposed to deal with this stuff. And what about that UNIT lot, what are they doing?”
Ianto gives him a bleary-eyed look as he sways on his feet, his face shockingly pale in the dim light, as he makes a grab for the edge of the workstation and fails.
Andy barely has time to wrap an arm about Ianto’s waist as his legs buckle, and he slumps against him.
Ianto’s cheek is cold and clammy where it rests against his neck. His pulse, when Andy feels for it, is faint and erratic.
Shock. Andy berates himself that he hadn’t even considered it as he helps Ianto stumble back to the tattered old sofa. He supposes it’s because Ianto has, until this point at least, seemed so calm, so in control, that he just took it for granted that he was going to be all right.
Whether the shock is because of the blood loss or the attack going on outside, or a combination of the two, Andy can’t tell. All he knows is he is woefully unprepared to deal with anything like this. His training is to keep people calm until a medical professional arrives - it’s not to go it alone.
Settling Ianto down as well as he can on the sofa, Andy quickly heads back down to where he’d found the first aid kit. Checking the cupboards, and wishing that he had a torch, he eventually finds what he’s looking for, a foil blanket.
Wrapping the blanket around him, Andy waits until Ianto feels warmer and his pulse running at something like what he thinks is a reasonable level, before deciding it’s time to try to call his nan and find out if she’s okay.
Andy is surprised to see that his hands are shaking as he gets out his mobile. There’s barely any reception down here, but he knows he has to try, if only to try to put his mind at ease.
The call finally connects to voice mail after ringing for long, tense minutes, and Andy can feel the despair start to mount. He decides to leave a message any way, because it seems the more hopeful thing to do. “Hi, nan, just a quick call to see if you’re all right. I’m okay, speak to you later.”
Slipping the mobile back in to his pocket, he sits down on the floor; his back leant against the end of the sofa. Behind him Ianto whimpers softly in his sleep, although whether it’s from pain, fear or both, Andy has no way of knowing.
Closing his eyes for a moment, Andy wonders how he’s managing to stay so calm through what has just happened, and what is probably still happening. He thinks that it might be that the enormity of it just hasn’t properly hit him yet, that he’s still too numb.
It’s hard to make sense of everything, of the destruction that has happened and how nothing is going to be the same ever again. He’s sure that having been awake for nearly twenty-four hours isn’t helping either.
* * *
It’s evening when Andy wakes, disturbed from a sleep that he hadn’t realised he’d fallen into by Ianto’s pained gasp as he tries to sit up.
The Hub is still lit by emergency lighting as Andy helps Ianto to his feet and walks him slowly over to where the toilets are.
Ianto still seems disorientated as Andy helps him walk unsteadily back to the sofa, where, as soon as he lies back down, he falls asleep again.
As the night progresses Ianto’s temperature start to slowly climb. By dawn, although it’s only his watch that tells Andy that it’s morning once more, Ianto is running a fever, his hair sticking damply to his pain creased forehead.
Twenty-four hours comes and goes without any of the Hub’s systems powering back up. While Ianto continues to lie on the sofa shivering and moving restlessly in his sleep, waking only when Andy rouses him give him more painkillers and some water.
Being trapped in the surprisingly well-hidden underground base of the country’s least secret secret organisation while aliens attack the planet is, Andy thinks, something that should only happen in a sci-fi film or a TV show. It certainly shouldn’t be happening to a PC from Cardiff whose most pressing concern, just a day ago, was whether he should go to a rugby match or not.
It’s not that he doesn’t believe that they are locked in. It’s just that he can’t sit around and do nothing; it’s not how he does things. Anyway, keeping busy means that he has less time to wonder how his family are, whether his friends have survived and if he’s going to get out of this alive.
There’s not much that’s accessible, most of the substantial metal doors having sealed themselves when the lockdown took effect. There’s an office, with a hatchway down to a cramped and barely furnished bedroom, which Andy can only imagine is used in emergencies. There is also a corridor with a couple of old arcade games machines, neither of which works due to the lack of power. And what appears to be an interview room. Andy can’t quite imagine how you’d interview a weevil or a pterodactyl, so he suspects that Torchwood must also deal with other, more talkative aliens.
There are lower levels as well as the garage and cells that the weevils are in, Andy’s sure of that. However, all doors remain stubbornly closed despite his efforts to open them.
It’s disheartening, the lack of success in finding anything useful or any way out. The constant twilight of the Hub’s back up lighting systems doesn’t help; neither does the constant fear that they might fail at any time, leaving them trapped in complete darkness.
Finishing his exploration of the Hub, he goes back to check on Ianto, hoping that the combination of painkillers and few hours rest will have helped.
There’s no improvement, and Ianto seems only half conscious of what is going on as Andy hands him a glass of water and puts a damp cloth on his forehead.
The afternoon drags on and by evening, Ianto’s temperature has continued to climb to the point that he is shaking, skin hot and dry as fever takes hold.
The cause of Ianto’s fever becomes obvious once Andy changes the bandages over the wounds; one of the claw marks is red, angry and inflamed.
Cleaning the wounds and putting on more antiseptic gel, before redressing it is, Andy finds, is one of the hardest things he's had to do. Not only because he feels ill equipped to deal with it, but because Ianto is so distressed by it.
Delirious, Ianto tries to fight Andy off, incoherently pleading with him not to eat him or convert him. Andy doesn’t know what Ianto believes is happening, and given the abject terror on Ianto's face and the fear in his voice, he’s glad that he doesn’t.
Andy doubts that the sofa is comfortable, but he's not been able to find any other way down into the cramped bedroom under the office apart from climbing through the hatchway. A hatchway that's not big enough for him to climb through while carrying Ianto, and he knows that there is no way that Ianto will be able to manage to climb down by himself.
The Hub echoes with the sound of dripping water, which Andy suspects is from the rain running down the fountain on the Plas above. The only other sounds are the occasional squawk from Myfanwy as she circles the Hub, seemingly confused at what is happening, and the jumbled words and cries from Ianto as he alternates between fever driven nightmares and near unconsciousness.
The fact that the Hub is cool, bordering on cold and Ianto is near naked seems to have little effect on reducing the fever that's raging through him.
Even with no medical training beyond a basic first aid certificate, Andy can see that Ianto is struggling to fight off the infection unaided. Andy knows what Ianto really needs is a doctor, access to a hospital and a course of antibiotics. Getting the first two are out of the question given their current situation, but the antibiotics might not be impossible given how well the first aid kit had been stocked.
Most of the cupboards in the autopsy bay are locked, and it seems to be nothing more than an exercise in frustration as he forces open cupboards and drawers to find nothing useful inside.
Eventually, as Andy is about to give up hope of finding anything that might actually help one of the cupboards proves to be some form of medicine cabinet. Most of the bottles and packets bear names that are unfamiliar, but there are a couple that are labelled as penicillin.
There aren’t any instructions, but Andy remembers from a couple of years ago when he’d cut his hand open trying to help a friend dismantle an old greenhouse, that he’d been prescribed penicillin and told to take two every six hours. He hopes these are something similar.
Putting the tablets and a mug of water down on the floor by the side of the sofa, Andy gently shakes Ianto’s shoulder. “You need to wake up for a minute, okay?”
“Hurts,” Ianto groans softly before slowly opens his eyes. Eyes that are too bright with fever and too unfocused for any real comprehension.
“Sorry.” Andy slips an arm under Ianto’s shoulders, trying to hold him a little more upright so that he can take the tablets without choking on them.
“It’s all right, Jack,” Ianto sighs, leaning against Andy, his eyes closing again. “You stopped them.”
“I’m not…” Andy stops as he sees some of the tension leave Ianto’s face as he settles against his arm. He doesn’t like the idea of lying to Ianto, but if it gives him some comfort, then he’ll do it.
Taking the cloth off Ianto’s forehead, Andy tips some of the water from the mug onto it, and wipes the sweat from Ianto’s face and neck, trying not to worry about just how limp Ianto feels against him.
“I never thought it would be aliens,” Andy says with a fake cheerfulness that he really doesn’t feel. He’s not sure that Ianto is listening or if he’ll understand what Andy’s saying, but the silence of the last couple of days has been getting to him. He knows that talking is probably as much for his own sanity as to try to reassure Ianto that he’s not alone. “I suppose it could be worse. At least it’s not zombies. Colin always said it would be zombies.”
“What with zombies?” Ianto asks, his voice a little slurred as he opens his eyes again.
“The end of the world. Colin said it would be zombies. Liz on traffic said it would be a meteor strike or something like that.” They’d had some odd conversations in the station canteen in the early hours of the morning as they’d tried to catch up on coffee fuelled paper work. Andy wonders if Colin is disappointed or relieved that it’s aliens rather than zombies. Either way he hopes that Colin is still around to be relieved or disappointed at anything.
“Not Suzie?” Ianto frowns, squinting into the darkness of the Hub. “There’s not another glove?”
“I don’t think there’s any gloves.” Andy’s not sure what someone called Suzie or gloves might have to do with zombies, or even if that’s what Ianto means.
Taking two of the tablets out of the packet, he tries to reassure Ianto. “I’ve not seen any.”
“Good.” Ianto grimaces at the taste of the tablets, but swallows them as Andy holds the mug of water so he can drink.
“Do you want to try and eat something?” Andy asks once Ianto has finished the water.
Ianto shakes his head and mumbles something that Andy can’t quite catch, before putting an arm around him. “Don’t go.” Ianto sounds lost as he holds on tightly to Andy’s shirt.
“I won’t.” Hoping that he’s doing the right thing, Andy lets Ianto hold onto him until he falls asleep.
* * *
There doesn’t seem to be any improvement between the first and second doses, and Andy worries that he’s not given Ianto enough. Or that he’s given him too much. Or that he’s just left it too late for the medicine to do Ianto any good.
Time seems to drag, minutes stretching out until they feel like hours, but eventually Ianto’s fever breaks. His temperature gradually reduces over the course of the day, and by the following morning, although still a little feverish, Ianto is lucid.
Ianto still looks sick and exhausted as he sits up and looks around at the dimly lit Hub. His expression is as much one of confusion as it is of concern, as he asks, “How long?”
“Nearly three days,” Andy says, as he walks over from where he’d been checking their dwindling food supply and sits down on the sofa beside him.
“There’s still no power?”
“I know.” Andy hands him a couple of cereal bars. Not the healthiest of choices Andy knows, but there’s not much else that he can offer him.
“I should get up, check the fuses. If the power has been out this long…”
“If it’s been out this long it can wait a bit longer,” Andy says firmly, not wanting Ianto to push himself too hard too soon. “You should try to eat something.”
Ianto nods and slowly unwraps one of the cereal bars. “All right, but then I’m getting up.” He glances down at himself, seeming to notice for the first time that he’s mostly undressed. “And I’m finding some clothes.”
Andy not sure that it’s a good idea for Ianto to be getting up yet, not when only a day before he’d been so sick and delirious that he’d thought Jack was there. But short of physically forcing Ianto to lie back down and rest, Andy knows there’s not really anything that he can do.
As soon as Ianto’s finished eating he gets up. Moving stiffly and occasionally stopping to lean against the wall, Ianto refuses any assistance from Andy as they slowly make their way to Jack’s office.
The fact that Ianto has a spare set of clothes where he works doesn’t surprise Andy. It was a fairly usual thing back at the station as well, so that you had something to change into after getting out of uniform.
The fact that Ianto’s spare set of clothes are hung up next to his boss’s, and that Ianto smiles slightly as he picks up a tie that’s fallen on the floor, saying quietly, “And you said you didn’t have it,” makes Andy almost sure that his earlier suspicion, that there really had been something going on between Ianto and Jack, had been correct.
Not that it’s any of his business, Andy decides, as Ianto gets dressed. Although he has to admit that, despite never really having any feelings in that direction himself, he can see why somebody would be attracted to Ianto.
The fuse box, which proves to be on the opposite side of the Hub, is behind a nondescript metal panel, and Andy thinks that he could have searched for days without ever finding it.
Andy keeps close as Ianto starts to flick switches in the fuse box. Repairing electrics has never really been Andy’s thing. The idea that only a small amount of plastic coating on the wires separates him from several thousand volts has always been enough to make him leave it to a professional.
When none of the switches seem to work, Ianto picks up the voltmeter that’s lying at the bottom of the fuse box. The lights on the meter stay resolutely blank as he tests the current across the wires.
“The national grid seems to be off, or at least any part of it which connects with Cardiff. Nothing is going to power up,” Ianto says frustratedly as he closes the panel to the fuse box with rather more force than is necessary.
“There’s no way out then?” The hope that Andy had been clinging to, that somehow Ianto would just flick a switch and they would be able to get out, is dashed.
“There’s no way of powering up all the systems, but,” Ianto starts walking towards the office, “there should be a couple things in the safe that we can use.”
Opening the safe, Ianto hands Andy two angular metal objects before closing it again.
There’s nothing about the objects that Andy finds recognisable as any form of technology that he’s seen before. Turning them over in his hands, he’s not even sure how or if you plug them in or even if they are switched on or not.
Ianto smiles slightly at his confusion. “They’re alien if you’re wondering.” He points to the slightly larger of the two devises. “That one is a power cell, the other is for opening locks.”
“Do they work?”
Ianto frowns as he takes the power cell back from Andy, saying, “They should do. There’s not much of a charge left in this one. But there should be enough to get one of the computers working for a couple of hours or so.”
part two, part three, part four.