Pairings: Jack/Ianto, Ianto/Lisa
Disclaimer: Torchwood is not mine. No matter how much I sometimes wish it was.
Spoilers: Better say everything through s2, just to be sure, although it takes place pre-S1.
Summary: Why didn't you tell us? We could have helped you. - Well, what if he did?
This chapter: What has happened to Ianto?
Thanks to: My beta cazmalfoy for all her wonderful work, and my cheerleaders angelzbabe1989 and piper08 for putting up with me when I whine about being stuck.
Author's Note: Huge thanks to whomever it was nominated this fic for a Children of Time award!!!
Fic starts here
Previous chapters at my master list
Owen was beside them in seconds.
He ran off again in the direction of the medical bay, leaving Jack kneeling helplessly beside Ianto’s unconscious form, unsure of where he could put his hands that might staunch the worst of the bleeding.
It seemed to be coming from everywhere, but Jack was too scared to touch him in case he actually made things worse. Tosh and Suzie stood motionless just a few feet away, and it was clear from their expressions that they were just as scared and clueless as he.
The distress on his face was plain to see by the time Owen returned, less than a minute later, with a medical kit.
Dropping down beside him, Owen pulled out several large gauze pads and pressed them to some of Ianto’s wounds. He grabbed Jack’s hands a moment later, holding them to the pads while he took a closer look.
“What is it?” Jack was growing ever more worried.
“Some of the slashes have nicked internal organs,” Owen told him, his own voice tense. “I just don’t have the facilities here to treat him. We need to get him to a hospital, and fast.”
Hearing this, Tosh reached for her mobile, and then froze. “Where do I call an ambulance to? Can we even call an ambulance?”
Jack would have hit something if his hands had not been busy holding down Ianto’s dressings. “Dammit, no. We can’t risk letting the paramedics in here, even for Ianto.”
“But we won’t get him there safely in the SUV,” Owen pointed out, pressing yet more clean dressings to Ianto’s cuts. “There isn’t the space.”
Jack blew out a frustrated breath before an idea hit. “Tosh, call that ambulance. Tell them to go to the car park outside our garage. Owen, where did you leave that old stretcher? The one you sometimes use for shifting aliens for autopsy?”
Owen stared into the mid-distance for a second as he thought. “Cold storage, I think.”
“On it.” Tosh had just started giving the emergency operator directions to the location when Suzie ran off.
It took all four of them to manoeuvre Ianto onto the stretcher without causing him too much more damage. The stretcher itself wasn’t exactly clean, and Owen worried a little about infection or contamination of Ianto’s wounds, but they didn’t really have a choice.
They made it out to the car park just a little under a minute before the ambulance drew up, lights and siren blaring.
As soon as it came to a half, the paramedics jumped out and rushed to tend to Ianto’s still form. Jack knew he was being short with them when they asked what had happened, but he just didn’t have the composure at the moment to come up with a convincing cover story.
“Does it really matter what happened? Just help him!” he found himself crying at them in frustration.
There hadn’t been room in the ambulance for him to go with them. Owen, in his capacity as medic, had climbed into the tiny space with the female paramedic as her partner leapt behind the wheel. The doors had slammed shut behind them, leaving Jack just standing there, feeling a little lost, Ianto’s blood all over his hands and clothes.
It was several long moments after the ambulance pulled away, siren once more ringing out, before Jack shook himself, and started thinking about what needed to be done.
“Cleanup of the creatures can wait,” he said, turning to his two female team-mates. “Right now we need to get to the SUV and get to the hospital. Ianto needs us.”
It wasn’t until they were at the doors of the SUV that Jack looked at his hands and realised the state they were in. Not wanting to waste precious minutes going back into the Hub to clean up, he simply wiped them on his already stained shirt, reflecting that even Ianto probably couldn’t have saved it anyway.
He was about to open the driver’s door and climb in when a hand on his arm stopped him.
“What?” he muttered harshly as he turned around to find Suzie right behind him.
“Give me the keys.” She held out a hand. “I’m driving.”
She held firm. “I’m driving. It may sound terrible to say it, but I’m not as close to Ianto as you and Tosh are. You’ll be distracted and dangerous on the roads, I won’t. And you’re wasting time here arguing this. Just give me the keys.”
Accepting her argument of the passing time, if not the rest of them, Jack reluctantly relinquished the keys, stepping swiftly around the bonnet to climb into the passenger seat.
The drive to the hospital, even though Suzie – at their urging – broke more than one speed limit, seemed interminably long to both Jack and Tosh. They knew, just from the looks that had passed across Owen’s face in the Hub, that there was a very real possibility that Ianto might not make it through this, and not being right there with him was killing them.
They were out of the SUV and running into the Accident and Emergency department foyer almost before Suzie had brought the vehicle to a stop.
The waiting area was crowded, but Jack took no notice and strode right up to the reception desk.
“Torchwood. Our colleague was just brought in, where is he?” Jack barked at the frazzled young woman behind the counter.
“If you could just calm down for a second, sir, I can find out for you,” the girl said, clearly used to dealing with angry and anxious friends and relatives. “Now, what’s his name?”
“He came in with our medic just a little while ago. He's the only bloody Torchwood staff member you've admitted; just tell us where he is!”
“I'm sorry sir, but I'm going to need that name, or I can't tell you anything.”
“Jones. Ianto Jones,” Jack answered, the frustration evident in his voice. “What's happening to him?”
“Just one moment sir while I look it up…”
“Look it up? Why can’t you just tell us?” Jack’s worry had clearly started to override logical thought.
Luckily for the harassed receptionist, the double doors swung open at that moment and a tense looking Owen strode out.
Forgetting the receptionist completely, Jack and Tosh ran over to him, joined a few moments later by Suzie.
“How is he?”
“What’s going on?”
“When can we see him?”
“Is he going to be okay?”
Jack and Tosh’s questions came thick and fast, and Owen held a hand up to silence them.
“They’ve taken him straight into theatre. He’s lost an awful lot of blood, and I was right, he has damage to several of his internal organs. The surgeons are doing their best though, I promise. And look, I can’t stay; I have to get back up there to help. I’ll make sure you’re told as soon as there’s anything to tell, though, yeah?”
Without another word, he swept back through the doors, leaving the rest of the team slightly stunned.
Despite Jack’s earlier behaviour, the receptionist took pity on them, guiding them to a quiet waiting room with surprisingly comfortable seats.
Not that Jack or Tosh put them to much use. Two hours later, with no additional information forthcoming from theatre, Jack hadn’t sat down once. He alternated between staring out the window into the darkness and pacing across the small room.
Tosh sat down intermittently, but was unable to stay settled and often joined Jack in his pattern across the floor.
Suzie was the only one able to show any modicum of calm, but her colleagues’ worry was palpable in the room and had even her a little restless.
They all turned with a start when the door suddenly opened.
An unknown doctor came in, his face grim.
“You’re here for Ianto Jones, yes?”
Jack cleared his throat. “Yes.”
“Mind if we have a seat?”
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