Torchwood: Fanfic: Harsh realities

[m_findlow]

Title: Harsh realities
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Ianto, Jack, OCs
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 4,152 words
Content notes: none
Author notes: Written for m_findlow's prompt "Any, any, confronted with the reality of the situation" at fic_promptly
Summary: Ianto thought he was getting away from it all.

Ianto felt annoyed as he set the coffee mug down on the desk, Jack still ignoring him and pretending he wasn't there. It was made worse by the fact that Gwen was sitting in Jack's office on the opposite side of the desk, and that up until a just a few moments ago, they'd been laughing about something. Everything from the past few days with Gwen had been long forgotten it seemed, but still Ianto was in the doghouse. It wasn't fair.

Of course he'd known Jack would be mad with him. They'd had endless arguments about Flat Holm Island, and Jack had made his views on the matter exceptionally clear when Gwen had started poking around. Where Jack was quick to shut the whole thing down and bury it, Ianto couldn't help but let it gnaw away at him. He knew Gwen, and he knew she never gave up on anything - a quality he admired, even if it sometimes landed them in trouble. He appreciated that she cared enough to keep pressing the issue. They needed to do something. Anything. He just wished he knew what that was. Perhaps what they needed was a fresh pair of eyes. Jack could try to keep them all in the dark, but if just one of them knew the truth, well, that could open the floodgates to other possibilities.

That had been his hope, anyway. And open the floodgates he certainly had. Jack had been furious with him. He'd given Gwen the GPS and knew she'd be on her way out there the very next morning to check it out. He worried that it might all be a bit too much for her. It certainly had been for him that first time he'd gone out there. He knew he wanted to tell Jack what he'd done, and that they should go out there and be there when Gwen discovered the truth, so that they could soften the blow and explain why they'd never said anything about the place.

'I gave Gwen a GPA with the location of Flat Holm on it,' he confessed that morning as soon as they were showered and dressed. 'She's headed out there now.' He knew because he'd kept an eye on the GPS tracker in Gwen's phone.

'You did what?' Jack was beyond furious.

'We can't keep it a secret anymore. It's not right. They know what the rift is capable of. They need to know the rest as well.'

Jack didn't yell. That was the first sign that he'd made a terrible misstep. Silent anger was the worst kind.

'I'm going out there to bring her back,' Jack said. 'Don't be here when I get back.'

That had been nearly a week ago, and still Jack was treating him with disdain. Jokes and laughter for everyone else, but not for him.

Once Gwen knew about Flat Holm, Jack had been forced to come clean to the rest of them. He couldn't expect Gwen to keep it a secret the way Ianto had, not able trust either of them to keep their silence now. Ianto could tell it hurt Jack's pride to have to come clean and that he thought it made him look weak. There was no convincing him otherwise.

At least the rest of them had the good sense not to say anything further on the matter until all of this blew over. Deep down he knew Owen and Tosh were just chomping at the bit to discuss it and what more they could do. For now though, Ianto would have to suffer Jack's ire all on his own. That's what made his next decision all that much easier, walking in and slipping the piece of paper on Jack's desk without preamble.

'What's this?'

'My application to be transferred to Flat Holm for the week.'

Jack narrowed his eyes at Ianto, unsure what his agenda behind the decision was. Was this meant to further infuriate Jack? 'I'm not authorising this,' Jack replied flatly, pushing the piece of paper back across the desk. Such a requisition form hadn't even existed until Ianto had created it half an hour ago.

'Why not? You're the one who tells me I don't understand. Send me out there and prove it.' He wanted to go. He needed to get away from Jack's disappointed glares. If it turned out Jack could prove him wrong, at least he'd know. He had to start making amends somehow.

'I can't be a man down for a week. What if something serious happens?'

'I'm only a few hours away. Besides, you haven't needed me so far.' He knew it was a barb, since Jack was doing everything possible to ignore him, but it was partly true.

'Fine,' Jack said through gritted teeth. 'You can go first thing tomorrow.'

The next morning came rather more quickly than Ianto had expected. He'd spent the night before packing clothes - not his usual suits, but everything warm he owned, thick jeans, long sleeve tops and fleecy jackets. He knew how bitterly cold the winds were out there. Even if he would be inside it was still chilly out in the middle of the Channel.

On the charter across the channel towards the island he felt relief rather than anxiety. After so many days of tension at the hub it was nice just to get out and feel the wind on his face, smell the salty sea and breathe in the crisp air. Even now he couldn't accept that he'd done the wrong thing in telling Gwen. They were all Torchwood and this was as much a part of that reality as anything. More so, perhaps. What would have happened if Jack hadn't come back from his travels with the Doctor? If Ianto himself hadn't known about the place already, they'd have been in all sorts when communication came through requesting this thing or that. Instead he'd handled it all in Jack's absence and said nothing. He wouldn't have given it a thought except for the fact that he'd had to go and retrieve another victim on his own, taking them out there on a trip that always felt more like the final hours before execution than it did saving a life.

He didn't know exactly what he'd do when he got out there. He'd simply called ahead to let them know he'd be there for a few days to help with anything they needed and to get a proper sense of the place and how it could be improved. That was big on his to do list. Jack hated the place. Ianto had only been there a few hours at a time, and then only very occasionally, but he could picture it perfectly in his mind, every dark gloomy corner and the general drudgery that hung in the air. No wonder Jack hated it. Jack was the very antithesis of the place; bright, bubbly, vivacious, full of optimism. He wished it were more warm, light and and calming, like a cup of tea and a hug from his mum.

Helen, their charge nurse, met him at rickety dock and lead him up through grassy hillside, through the dunes and deep within the old World War Two bunker system. The geography looked so different during the day. He was accustomed to coming out here only in the dead of night, as if the rift itself were too ashamed to dump its victims back out in the harsh light of day. In daylight, the island was quite rugged and beautiful in its own way. A week out here might be just what the doctor ordered.

Helen advised him that he was in luck, when he asked her what he could do to help. One of their carers was feeling under the weather so it was apt that he could help out with some of the day to day duties. It was good just to busy himself in that initial period of nervousness with idle domestic tasks such as laundry and cleaning. There was food preparation to be done also, though no one here was accustomed to anything but instant coffee, and he had neither the equipment of supplies to change that.

Helen held him back from direct contact with their residents at first. Most of them were skittish and mentally unsound, and didn't like strangers. Not that any of them were exactly strangers to him. He knew their personnel files by heart - names, dates, backgrounds, family members, and all the subsequent medical assessments that had been conducted. The difference was that none of them knew him. One or two might remember him being there the night they were brought here, but otherwise the only human contact they'd had was that small handful and dedicated individuals who lived here and took care of their every need.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when the screaming started whilst he was carting a small bundle of freshly pressed towels. It cut right through him like nails on a chalkboard. Jonah Bevan. He'd read about Jonah's story but they'd not mentioned how horrific a sound it was.

'Is he okay?' he asked, when Helen gave him a look of concern on her way past to shut the door, muffling the worst of the cries.

'None of them are, but we do what we can.'

The screaming persisted through the day, more a long wail than anything else. It rang in his ears and caused his head to ache, even as he tried to review a budgeting plan for the costs it would take to run this facility properly. As if sensing his distress, a cup of tea was slid across the table towards him. 'Thank you,' he said.

He tossed and turned that first night in the small room that was allocated to him. It was actually nothing more than a spare room, waiting for the next victim of the rift to occupy it, but for now it was his. Jonah's screams continued all throughout the night, keeping him awake, disturbing his short snatches of sleep with nightmarish visions. It was easier to not sleep than face the demons that the sound generated in his subconscious.

Come the morning, he tried to ignore the tired feeling of having not slept by getting stuck into work. There were doors that needed hinges oiling, plumbing that leaked, paint that was flaking off walls. All of it took time and time was one thing that was in short supply for the people who worked here. When the screaming finally stopped, it was like someone had flicked off a switch. His whole world went deathly silent and he thought for a moment that he'd gone deaf. Then he realised that the paint scraper in his hand was still making a sound as he forced it up and down the wall. He let out a breath of relief.

Helen had him help deliver lunches to the residents. He didn't want to think of them as victims or patients, simply people living here communally. He knocked quietly on doors, gave a polite smile and a little hello, used their names and introduced himself, before leaving the food on neat little trays on side tables. One or two of them came out of their rooms and ate their lunch in a space that served as a bit of a cafeteria. In truth, it was nothing more than a couple of small formica tables and chairs, clustered together. Even so, the residents tended to sit by themselves, or might agree to share their table with one of the carers.

Helen pointed him over to a table with an Indian man hunched over it and indicated that it was okay for Ianto to sit with him. Saeed, Ianto recalled. He looked up as Ianto quietly sat down on the opposite side and Ianto gave him another little smile, saying nothing. Saeed was quite for a long time as he poked around the mash and peas, before finally asking Ianto if he was new. Saeed himself had been here longer than Ianto had even worked for in Cardiff.

'Just visiting for the week,' Ianto replied.

Saeed eventually opened up a little bit, telling him how he was an accountant in a previous life and that his biggest client was Tata Steel, and how he'd hated the commute from Cardiff to Swansea all the time. Ianto knew all of this from his file, but it felt different hearing it from the horse's mouth. Left behind in Cardiff were his wife and two boys, now aged eight and ten, who thought he'd just up and left them, having an affair with some coworker. He didn't say anything about what happened to him when then rift took him, but his left hand shook almost permanently throughout the entire exchange.

As soon as lunch was over, the screaming started up again. Had the four hours really gone that quickly? Helen had warned him to get used to the sound, since it was twenty hours of every day. It was an impossible task, struggling through another sleepless night. In the morning he managed to escape it for a while, heading outside to clear some of the underbrush that was threatening to force its way inside a couple of the hidden entrances. It had been a well concealed bunker when it had been built eighty years ago, but now it was being overrun by tall grasses and shrubby salt bushes. As he beat back the verge with what limited tools he had, he made a mental list of things that were needed out here. It was only as he was thinking of what he had to do when he got back to Cardiff that he realised no one had contacted him. Three days without so much as a text message or an email. It just went to show that he was right when he'd said to Jack he wouldn't be missed. His coffee perhaps, but not him. It was slightly disappointing. He'd hoped that perhaps by now Jack might have found it in him to forgive Ianto. They'd been going well before he'd gone and mucked it all up with his executive decision making.

His head began to hurt again the minute he came back inside, greeted by that constant scream. How the hell did the others put up with it all day every day? He threw back two aspirin and collapsed on the end of a sofa in the recreation room. He'd only just closed his eyes when he felt the opposite end dip slightly. There was Alice, long blonde hair covering her face from the scarring that marked it. She didn't say anything, but she put a box on the coffee table in front of the sofa and opening it, spilling out the jigsaw pieces from inside and began sorting them. She pushed a pile in his direction without a word. They must have spent hours sorting out the pieces and putting it all together in total silence. Then, just as soon as it was complete, she pushed the completed puzzle back off the table, letting it tumble into pieces into the box and carried it away with her back to her room.

'She must like you,' Helen said. 'Not everyone is allowed to help her with that puzzle.'

He went into the kitchen and helped a busty woman called Ceri chop vegies for a stew she was making, which wasn't unlike one his mum used to make. By the time it was ready, and he'd helped distribute the trays to the residents, he was too tired to eat. He retired to his own room, much like most of the residents, and promptly fell asleep, screaming be damned.

It was lucky he did sleep early, because it was the sound of thrashing and banging that woke him in the middle of the night. Just two doors down, one of the residents Emil, in his late twenties, hardly older than Ianto, had begun causing a ruckus. There were two carers in there with him already before Ianto was at the door, ready to assist. Emil's arms and legs were covered in bleeding scratches as the carers were holding him down and injecting him with a sedative. His struggles stopped almost instantly, leaving him limp and bloody between them on the floor.

'Sometimes he imagines there's creatures inside him and he tries to get them out by clawing at his skin. We have to keep his nails cut short to avoid the worst of it, but he can still do a lot of damage before anyone finds out,' one of the carers explained, cleaning and bandaging the wounds, before letting Ianto help her lift him back onto the bed to sleep off the drugs.

The event left him feeling shaken. He knew that the people who lived here were damaged by their experiences, but seeing the way that it impacted their lives was something else altogether. He never saw most of this when he came here to drop off their latest victim, usually so focused on just getting them here, where the carers could patch up any obvious injury and get them settled in. It wasn't until you stopped and saw these people properly that you realised they really couldn't be integrated back into normal life. He recalled his own memories of the weeks and months after he lost Lisa. There'd been so many sleepless nights and nightmares, whole days and weeks where he felt numb and disassociated from the world, just wanting to curl up in a ball. How much worse was it for these people who didn't even know about Torchwood until their lives had been destroyed by it. At least he'd known what he was getting himself into.

He woke up, finding himself curled over on the sofa in the recreation room, a blanket laid over him. He didn't remember lying down, nor how he could sleep when his mind was so overwrought, and Jonah's screams still piercing the air.

He got up and headed for the kitchen, the smell of scrambled eggs already wafting outwards. He made himself a cup of instant coffee and didn't even cringe at the taste, downing the whole mug in one go.

'Rough night, pet?' Ceri asked.

She pushed a plate of eggs at him but he couldn't stomach them. Instead he showered and forced himself to do morning rounds, serving breakfast to everyone else, picking up laundry and shadowing Helen on her medical check-ups. Medicine could only do so much, really. It couldn't fix what had happened.

He set himself the task of walking the perimeter of the facility, checking for external damage caused by the elements, or anything else that needed fixing. In truth, he just wanted to get out. The sound of the waves crashing and the local birdlife was a welcome reprieve. Being useful was just an added bonus. He was tugging away some overgrown grasses from one of the large skylights. They were tougher than expected, and the grasses cut into his hand as he tugged at them in earnest. Why did everything around here have to be so stubborn and harsh, he thought, feeling angry at it refusing to come out. He tugged again, feeling it slice his palm and he hissed in pain, standing up and kicking it in frustration.

'Have you had enough yet?' came the question from behind him. He turned to see Jack standing there, long greatcoat flapping in the breeze, looking just as tired and worn as he himself felt. It was so tempting to lie and say that he was fine, but in truth, he was far from it.

'You knew,' he said. 'And you let me go anyway.'

'Yes,' Jack replied.

He supposed he deserved that. He'd been the one hell bent on proving Jack was wrong about this place, but it left him feeling completely defeated. Nothing he'd done had made the slightest bit of difference. All the money in the world couldn't fix this.

Before he could say anything more, there were strong arms wrapped around him. He leaned into the embrace, closing his eyes.

Jack held him tight. He didn't have to imagine too hard how much this place must have affected his lover. He was sensitive to other people's emotions and this place was full of every kind of horror imaginable. But Ianto had wanted to go and Jack had let him, not to teach him a lesson, but to help him better understand. Gwen had already undergone her own trial by fire. She'd seen how much it had destroyed Nikki Bevan knowing the truth. She didn't want another family to suffer like that. Ianto though, he just wanted to fix everything. He liked projects, putting things in order, making them right, but this place was outside of even his considerable talent. People were too complicated. You couldn't put them in a spreadsheet or give them a fresh coat of paint. Even the best medical people in the world probably couldn't make them whole again. Lord knows Owen would try. Jack hated feeling so helpless. It was one of the reasons he tried so hard to shove this place to the back of his mind. It was just another failed attempt to try and fix the damage caused by the rift.

He let go and brushed a hand across Ianto's cheek. He looked exhausted and mentally drained. Jack knew instinctively that Ianto had come here to try and atone for his actions. 'I know why you did it,' Jack said.

'No, you don't.'

'I do. Believe me.' He knew that Ianto thought Gwen might be able to persuade him. There was something about the way she put things into a different perspective. He'd hoped it might be enough to convince Jack. If anything, it was a relief not having to keep the place a secret anymore. It was hardly better than an asylum, and certainly wasn't rehabilitating anyone, but since then Gwen had tempered her efforts. It was almost a disappointment. He really wished that his team of very clever people could do more than he'd ever managed, but then task was just so insurmountable. If the two people with the biggest hearts he'd ever met couldn't make things right, then what hope was there?

'I've come to take you home,' Jack said. After five days he must have been going crazy cooped up here. Jack was ready to leave after five minutes. And for all his anger, he'd missed Ianto like crazy. He didn't care if Ianto was angry, contrite or otherwise. He just wanted him home.

Ianto just nodded and started the slow trek back over the rugged hills, letting Jack amble beside him.

Inside, he packed his things slowly, feeling like he'd been thrown around in a tumble dryer these past few days.

Jack leant in the doorway and watched him intently. 'You okay?'

'First person to ever come here and return back to normal life,' he replied, hugging the armful of clothes to his chest and looking around the small room. He set them down in his satchel and zipped it up.

'Okay, let's go.'

Ianto shouldered the bag and stepped out into the hall. He spotted the laptop he'd left on one of the tables yesterday and had a thought. 'Just one second, yeah?'

Jack looked at him quizzically and shrugged.

Ianto clutched it and moved down to the hall before knocking gently on one of the doors. Saeed slowly opened it.

'I was working on some budgets for this place,' Ianto said. 'I'm no financial expert but I was wondering if you might like to look them over.'

'Okay,' he replied, taking the laptop.

'Helen has my email if you need anything.'

As Ianto returned, he saw Jack conversing quietly with Helen.

'You're sure he can't stay a few more days?' he heard her ask, smiling across at him.

'Sorry,' Jack apologised. 'Really need him back in Cardiff.' Ianto had never been more glad for the lie.

'He's been such a help.'

'Irreplaceable,' Jack agreed.

There was a light tug on Ianto's his sleeve, and he turned to find Alice standing behind him, puzzle box in her arms, looking straight at him.

'I have to go,' he said. 'But maybe next time? I'll bring a new puzzle and we can do it together.' She didn't say anything in reply, just wandered off and sat down on the sofa, pouring the box out on the table to begin again.

'He has a gift,' Helen whispered to Jack as he waved to yet another resident passing down the hall to come and watch the television

Kindred spirits, Jack thought. Torchwood had messed up all of their lives. As he watched their exchanges, he wondered if perhaps there was some hope left after all.

Comments

[jo02]

This was really, really good, thank you.

[bk_forever]

If anyone could make even a small difference to a single one of the residents, without even realising it, that would be Ianto. He accepts people without question, and he's so intuitive, but being there for days was bound to wear him down. I'm glad Jack seems to have forgiven him.