Title: Lazarus (Chapter 3)
Rating: PG (so far. Might get higher and the subsequent chapters)
Pairing/Characters: Ianto; Jack; Gwen (if someone else pop in, I'll let you know); Jack/Ianto and there probably will be mentions of Gwen/Rhys
Genre: General so far, but maybe romance eventually? It is after all a Janto fic
Summary: Nine months later and Ianto wakes up from death.
Spoiler: Mentions of Children of Earth, but nothing especific, except Ianto's death, but I don't consider it a fix it fic; at least not yet.
Disclaimer: Sadly, they are not mine. I'd never kill Ianto and ruin the best cannon shipper ever!
Notes: Huge thanks to specialj67 for being my beta. Jackie, you rock!
Once he had distanced himself enough from MacLeod Enterprises, Ianto allowed himself to stop running and duck into a dark alleyway.
He was still in London, and that was some sort of comfort--it was familiar ground. But he needed to get back to Cardiff, back to Jack.
Ianto retrieved the pilfered mobile and dialed Jack’s number. Immediately, he got an automatic message telling him that the number had been disconnected. He sighed heavily, sagging against the wall. He couldn’t contact Jack and that scared him a little.
He stared at the phone's glowing keypad for a couple of seconds before dialing Gwen’s home number. It rang twice before a cheerful male voice crackled a greeting over the line. Rhys. A crying baby was audible in the background, then Ianto remembered: Gwen had been pregnant when he died.
“Hello? Anyone there?” Rhys asked, and Ianto realized he had spaced out for a second.
“Yes, I’m here.” He replied quickly. “I need to speak to Gwen.”
Ianto sighed. He couldn’t say who he was. Rhys would never believe him, what with the being "dead" and all.
“Mate, I asked who it is.” Rhys repeated his tone slightly annoyed.
“Listen, I just needed to talk to Gwen, that’s all. Just let me talk to her.” Ianto pleaded, feeling a little desperate.
He could almost hear Rhys thinking over the phone before emitting a sigh. And then silence. A couple of seconds later, he heard Gwen’s warm, if suspicious, tone over the line and breathed out in relief. Ianto had never been so thankful for hearing the woman’s voice in his life.
“Gwen, I need you to listen to me and please don’t hang up.” He started urgently.
“Alright, but who’s speaking?” She asked and he could make out skepticism and worry in her voice and maybe just a hint of recognition.
“That’s not important, just…” Ianto tried, but Gwen was having none of that.
“Listen, if you need to tell me something, you’re going to start by telling me who you are, mate.”
The Welshman sighed; he would have to do it. “It’s Ianto, Gwen.” There was a pause on the other side of the line.
“Do you think this is funny?” She shouted furiously. Ianto winced.
“Gwen, listened to me…” He pleaded, but she cut him off.
“If you EVER call this number again, I will hunt you down and kill you, do you understand?”
She didn’t wait for a reply before hanging up. Ianto was pretty sure that she slammed to phone for emphasis. He sighed deeply, closing the mobile. That had been a complete failure, but really, what was he thinking? Calling Gwen and identifying himself when she was sure he was dead? And not managing to think of anything else to say--at all?
He sighed again. What would he do now? Without Jack and Gwen, what could he do--what resources did he have to return to Cardiff?
He considered calling Rhiannon for a second before dismissing the idea. It would be Gwen multiplied by ten.
Ianto thought of UNIT: they had a base in London and a fairly civil relationship with Torchwood. He dismissed the idea when he remembered that they probably knew he was dead, and showing up there alive and well would guarantee his future use as a lab rat.
He could try Martha; if anyone from UNIT could be trusted it was her. Except Ianto didn’t know if she was still stationed in New York or not. Last time he heard from her, she was on her honeymoon and that had been nine months ago.
Suddenly, a thought came to Ianto’s mind. Martha’s family lived in London, he was sure of it--he had met them at her wedding. They seemed like fairly nice people and, more importantly, they were aware that aliens did exist. And they weren’t familiar enough with Ianto to know he was dead. Yes, that might work. Ianto would go to them and asked to get in touch with Martha. She would answer a call from her parents. She would come and maybe, if she saw Ianto with her own eyes, she would believe him. As plans went, it was flimsy at best, but it was the best he could devise while tired, hungry and cold.
Ianto hauled himself to his feet and got moving. He needed to find Martha's parents. Now.