Torchwood: Fanfic: Endless night

[m_findlow]

Title: Endless night
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Jack, Ianto
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 2,824 words
Content notes: none
Author notes: Written for badly_knitted's prompt "Torchwood, Jack /Ianto, taking a riftugee over to Flat Holm island" at fic_promptly
Summary: Sometimes they think it would be better if the rift only went one way

There's some parts of the job that Jack hates more than others. Dealing with dangerous aliens is easy, getting covered in slime, just an occupational hazard, having to occasionally deal with situations where they can't save everyone is tough, but nothing compared to having to deal with those people who have been taken by the rift and then returned. It's easily the worst part of the job by a million, trillion miles.

The alarm is set for Jack's vortex manipulator. It's a singular signal that goes directly to him, even though the rest of the team now know about what the rift is actually capable of. He doesn't want to get them involved any more than he absolutely has to. They have enough to deal with as it is, and seeing the things he sees out at Flat Holm tears away a little bit of your soul each time. He doesn't want to subject them to that. No, only one person will accompany him in that task, and only because he's realises he can no longer do this alone.

The alarm goes off in the middle of the night. It always does. He's never known the rift to spit someone out in the light of day, as if it too is ashamed of what it's done. He doesn't make a sound whem the alarm goes off at night. There's nothing to be said when that alert comes through. They both simply know what needs to be done.

They dress quickly and quietly. Jack always used to say to Ianto that there was no time for coffee, but somehow ingeniously Ianto has devised a way to make it a quick process, able to fill a large thermos full of delicious brew in mere minutes whilst Jack is checking that the SUV has everything else they might need. The coffee serves three purposes; one to wake them up, just a quick mouthful before they start up the engine, two, to be offered to anyone who might have their wits about them enough to be able to stomach a strong reassuring brew, and thirdly, for the last hot remnants to be shared between them after all is done.

Jack is busy checking the medical supplies in the SUV. He knows that Ianto will have made sure Owen keeps their kit properly stocked, but it's always good to double check and add a few extra things for good measure. There's no telling what kind of state someone who's fallen through the rift might be in, and sometimes, even their medical supplies are not enough to patch the wounds. One time, it was all they could do to administer some morphine and watch as the person slipped away, so badly injured that even Owen would have been unable to save them. That's the thought that eats at Jack as he checks over their supplies. What condition will they be in when they arrive? Will they get there in time to help?

Jack feels even more anxious and nervous than usual, and he can't even stomach the thought of coffee tonight. Ianto senses his inner turmoil. It's the reason why he's here. As much of a loud, brash, overconfident person Jack usually is, the victims of the rift are a weakness in his armour. He hates this part of the job, and he hates that there's nothing he can do about it. He always says that maybe if he was a better leader they could find a way to fix it, but Ianto knows that Jack is doing the best job anyone could ever do, and that he blames himself for things he shouldn't. Ianto doesn't just need to be there for him, he wants to be there for him.

Ianto offers to drive tonight. He can tell that Jack isn't ready to face another rift victim tonight. They're becoming more and more frequent, and he can't decide if that's a good thing or bad. Good that perhaps those that have been taken can finally return home from wherever it is they've been taken, but bad because most of them come back so damaged that perhaps it's better if they'd never come back at all. He knows he shouldn't think like that, but he supposes if it were him that were taken by the rift, coming back might be a curse. Being home but unable to ever see your family and friends again, or even to get on with life they way you had before the rift took you, might not be life at all.

The drive isn't all that far though, just the other side of town tonight. The signal had come from an alleyway behind a large chain supermarket. He's secretly hoping that no one from the public has found them first. Most likely vagrants and homeless people hanging out by the dumpsters looking for a quick meal. No one else should be out at this time of night.

As he pulls the car in just outside the alleyway, not wanting to scare anyone who might be down there, he knows already that this is going to be a bad one. They haven't even opened the car doors and already they can hear the screaming. It's like a knife being plunged through Jack's heart, Ianto knows. He wants to give Jack's hand a gentle squeeze before they get out, but Jack is stalwart and out of the car before Ianto can offer his support.

As they slowly make their way down the dark alleyway, Ianto can feel his heart pounding a million miles an hour. Gone is the calmness that he usually feels when they approach. The screams are enough to completely shatter his world. They're the screams of a little boy. Please God, he begs, why do you have to be so cruel?

The boy's screams die in his throat when he sees the silhouette of Jack approaching, and they devolve into great heaving sobs. Jack is making gentle shushing sounds as he slowly approaches, trying to ease in, with calming reassurances. It's the compete opposite to how he feels on the inside.

Ianto is already tearing off his coat, ready to bundle up the boy who can't be more than eight or nine years old, the same age as his nephew, he realises.

Jack is knelt beside him brushing aside his tears and at the same time quickly checking him over for injury. Down his entire left hand side there's a strange blue scarring, and his fingertips on one hand are blackened as if by frostbite. They work in silent unison, Jack taking the coat and wrapping it around the boy, telling him everything is going to be okay. He picks up the tiny bundle and carries him back to the car, settling him in the back seat and staying with him there, leaving Ianto alone in the driver's seat to take them down to the docks.

The little boy is much calmer now, Jack having slipped him a sedative to help with the journey. Most people they picked up needed to be sedated in some shape or form. Whatever they'd been through was traumatic for even the most innocent cases, and none of them knew about the rift or what had taken them, let alone how they ended up back home again.

He pulled up beside a small quay on the far side of the marina. The boat that was moored there belonged to Torchwood, but you wouldn't have known it. Where everything else in Torchwood was shiny and gleaming, and the height of modern technology, there was nothing shiny or new about the old used trawler that sat moored there. They needed a vessel that could withstand the choppy Bristol Channel and one that didn't attract attention at odd hours of the night. A trawler was the perfect cover, since they often left in the wee hours of the morning, off in search of rich fishing fields.

Out of the car, it was Ianto who bundled up their small charge whilst Jack strode confidently forward to the boat, hopping on board like he sailed it every day, and went through the process of starting up the engines and setting the navigation.

Ianto had two options, take the boy below deck to the small galley below, or to stay up on deck in the sheltered lee on the side of the boat. He chose the latter. It wasn't overly cold tonight, and he never enjoyed the rocking of the boat when he couldn’t keep his eyes on the horizon. Sea sickness was only an occasional problem, but being up in the fresh air always helped.

Jack stood in the wheelhouse taking command of the vessel. It was the one thing in tonight's events that he could control, hearing the faithful churning of the engines as he navigated out of the marina, and pulling her into full throttle once they reached the open channel. The journey would take about an hour all up. He stayed in the wheelhouse a while longer, collecting his thoughts as he always did. Somehow the hard part of the journey seemed over. Those first few traumatic minutes of meeting their latest victim were always the worst. Now in the open water, he could match up the roiling in his stomach with the roiling of the sea beneath him.

He checked over the navigation once more, hands flowing over the rough timber between the dials. It had once been gleaming and polished, but no longer after years of hard use by even harder men. When he'd bought her six years ago she'd been called the Dawn Savior. He found the name ironic more than hopeful, but he'd never bothered to change it.

Out on deck, Ianto had the boy huddled in his arms. He couldn't stop thinking about his nephew, and squeezed him tighter to him, praying that whatever happened next that everything would work out okay. With a spare hand he manged to take a photo of the boy's face and tried to run a search for missing persons. Surely something would turn up. He wasn't disappointed, but after reading the details he fell into a despondent stupor, tears welling in his eyes. He understood why Jack hated this part of the job so much. Some things you just couldn't fix.

When finally Jack came to check on him, he showed him the result from his PDA, and Jack slumped down next to him. Their little lost boy was indeed missing, and had been since 1993. His mother would have given up searching for him decades ago, resigned to the fact her the little boy had been taken or hurt or died somewhere, alone and scared. All Ianto could picture was his own sister's face in place of the mother's, knowing how distraught she would be if David had ever gone missing, even just for an hour. What future did this little boy have now, scarred and scared and without a mother to look after him and chase his nightmares away? It made him want to cry, and he could see how upset it made Jack as well. There were the three of them huddled in the middle of the ocean, each feeling lost and alone.

It feels like and eternity and no time at all before the tiny boat is steaming toward the dock, ready for Jack to swing the mooring line out and guide the boat right up to the side of the jetty. There's someone waiting there for them, just as there always is on nights like these. It's often Helen, and tonight that's exactly who they find. Ianto is sure she must never sleep, but then he knows what it's like to be in charge of keeping a place like this going. Some things you just prefer to do yourself. Ianto watched the look of despair that passed between Helen and Jack as she got her first glimpse of her new charge. Cleary Jack hadn't mentioned it when he'd radioed ahead to tell her they were coming. Still, she's as professional as always and leads them off the jetty and across the hills and dunes towards the secret entrance. Once inside, it's like a different place. It's dark and silent yet there's always movement. Like Torchwood, the place never rests. Its residents can't half tell up from down, so day and night hold no meaning for them, and night only brings nightmares, so perhaps it's best to stay awake.

Helen pulls the boy from Ianto's grip, and he struggles to let go, unconsciously wishing he could protect him from the big nasty world out there. 'He'll be okay, Ianto,' Helen assures him, passing him to another nurse who takes him away to be checked over and admitted. It's at that point that Jack disappears. He can't stand being in here a minute longer now that they've handed over the boy, and Ianto knows he won't see Jack for several hours now.

Helen offers him a cup of tea and they sit down and chat as if it's the most normal thing in the world. He doesn't know how she does it, but it's as if she knows that it's not just the riftugees that need a bit of comfort once they arrive here. They discuss trivial things and important things alike. He asks her what they need in new supplies and he adds it to his list for their next shipment. There's a local conservation group that share the island and conduct research on the local bird life, so the island is accustomed to visitors mooring regularly at its docks.

Ianto stays there, chatting with the motherly figure for over an hour, checking on a few of the other residents whilst he's here. Some are not as bad as the others, and he can carry on basic conversations with them. They're not nearly well enough to go back out into the real world, but they appreciate being able to have a conversation with someone who can. Somehow it always makes him feel better to know that they're not completely broken.

He checks on their new ward and finds him sleeping in a small bed, just like any ordinary little boy. What will happen to him next he doesn't have an answer for. Will he be okay enough to go to school and to grow up and have a reasonably normal childhood, or will he be stuck here forever? If he is okay, who will look after him now? So many questions he doesn't have answers for, and probably won't for a long while yet. He only had one question left on his mind now, and that's to know how Jack is.

Ianto knows where to find him, he always does. But then Jack has become himself quite predictable. The island is not overly small, but there's still not enough space for him to get away, to run, to chase something or to vent his frustrations. All he can do is find the highest point on the island and sit there, letting it all play out below him. Once the victims are here he doesn't know what to do with them. He's not a healer or a carer, he's a doer. He's got them this far and now it's up to someone else to take charge. That's where Ianto is so good. He's a natural carer. He knows what people need even before they themselves do. This place is perfect for him. It requires organistion and planning, people and processes, and above all it needs heart, and he can't think of anyone with more heart than Ianto. The best thing he can do at this point is to step aside and let the professionals take over. He's a third wheel in a well oiled machine.

He can hear the footsteps crunching toward him. Somehow Ianto knows that he needs caring for too, and that his job isn't over until he's made sure Jack is okay.

He sits down without a word, and the thermos appears from nowhere as the sun begins to rise over the waterline. The coffee is exceptional, but it's nothing compared to the company, both of which he desperately needs after a night like this.

They don't exchange words for a long time, just sitting there sipping coffee and watching the sun rise. Watching the dawn break makes the night feel like it's being washed away, like rain driving away the dirt. The horrors of the rift are left to the darkness, but now in the light there's an easing of burdens, and a new day breaking with the possibility of wonder and joy. Flat Holm will still be here, but it's memory will fade for a while, allowing them to remember that for every bad thing in the world, some good must exist as well, and that they should embrace the good, for who knows when the rift might come calling for them again.

Comments

[bk_forever]

Beautiful, so sad but with a ray of hope. Maybe the boy will be okay, at least he's in the best place now, safe and with people who will care for him. Ianto will look after Jack, and without even knowing he's doing it, Jack will look after Ianto because they're each other's support. Hopefully the Rift won't take or return anyone for a good long while.

Thanks for a wonderful fill.