Rating: PG (so far. Might get higher and the subsequent chapters)
Pairing/Characters: Ianto; Jack; Gwen; Martha; Mickey; (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!
For the second time in the same evening, Martha's car sped through the streets of London too fast to be legal, but neither driver nor passenger seemed too concerned about it.
“Are you sure about this Martha?” Asked Mickey without taking his eyes off the road. “It’s sounds crazy, even for us. A man returning from the dead?”
“Jack does it.” Martha pointed out, glancing at her husband from the corner of her eyes.
“Yeah, but he’s Jack. It’s different. How do you know it’s really him and not some alien planning a trap?”
“He said something to Mum, something only he would know. It’s really him Mickey. I almost certain it’s really him.”
“Alright, if you’re that sure, why didn’t you call that friend of yours from Torchwood, Gwen?”
Martha looked away, biting her lower lip. “We-ell...I’m 90% sure it’s him," she hedged, "but if it isn’t, I don’t want put Gwen through that. So I’ll call her when I’m 100%.”
Martha had that tone in her voice that told him she wouldn’t give up on this. That she was going to see this whole thing to the end, and the only thing left for Mickey to do was follow her and make sure nothing too shitty happened along the way. She was stubborn like that and he loved her even more because of it.
He arrived at the coordinates Martha gave him: an abandoned warehouse like any number of abandoned warehouses scattered throughout London with broken windows, chipped and peeling paint, and rusting metal pipes seemingly wending their way around the walls of their own volition. Scrubby weeds dotted the gravel and concrete, and moonlight glinted in the puddles from the rain. With a resigned sigh, he parked the car and killed the engine.
“Alright, we’ll go in, but under one condition.”
“What?” She asked, grinning because he had finally given up.
“We treat him like a threat until we’re 100% sure he’s really Ianto.”
“Okay.” She knew he would say something like that!
They slid from the car and met at the rear where Martha unlocked and opened the boot; she picked up a black backpack and hoisted it over her shoulders while Mickey took a rifle, shouldering the strap before shutting the lid with a satisfying thunk and silently observed the abandoned building. One of the Torchwood London’s warehouses according to the coordinates from "Ianto".
“You go through the front, I’ll get the back.” Mickey instructed, locking the car. Martha nodded, checking her handgun (just to reassure her husband. She wasn’t planning on using it.) and rushed up to the main entrance.
The metal doors were half-opened. Someone was expecting them, perhaps? She pushed them open completely, gritting her teeth and the grinding metal-on-metal sound of the doors scraping along the tracks, and stepped inside carefully, handgun raised. Weak moonlight filtering through the grimy windows did nothing to help Martha get a better view of things, so she reached inside her bag and pulled a small torch, sweeping the dull yellow beam around the cavernous room. There was a mouldy couch at the far end, near stairs that lead to an upper level, and an assortment of battered tables and ratty chairs. Martha inched closer to that only piece of furniture in the room when a pale white light.suddenly engulfed the entire area. She spun around, gun raised, and found Ianto to her left, by some sort of lever. He smiled a little at her.
“Thanks for coming.” He said.
“Hands in the air!” Martha instructed and he nodded, doing as he was told. “Come closer.”
Again he obeyed, walking slowly towards Martha, hands behind his head. When he was about five feet from her, he paused and dropped to his knees before Martha could even order him to do it. She smiled a little despite herself and walked closer, stooping to handcuff him.
“Sorry; it’s just precaution.” The doctor said apologetic.
“I understand.” Ianto said quietly.
“I check the place, no one else around. Everything alright in your end?” Mickey's voice echoed as he advanced toward them. He drew up behind Martha and she nodded.
“Yes. I told you it would be fine.” She smiled a little at her husband. “You remember Ianto.”
Mickey nodded shortly, before taking the man by the arm and guiding him to the couch without lowering his gun. Until someone proved him wrong, this was an alien and he wasn’t going to give him a chance to jump and kill them all. Ianto took a seat without saying a word and waited as Martha pulled a table closer and opened her backpack, pulling out a laptop and another, smaller, bag. She powered up the computer and unzipped the bag, revealing a set of syringes, test tubes and Petri dishes. She snapped on latex gloves and spun back to Ianto and Mickey.
“Roll up his sleeve.” She instructed, glancing apologetically at Ianto. “I need to get a blood sample.”
“I understand, don’t worry.” Ianto replied, his tone serene. “I’m very glad you’re here Martha, I didn’t know who else to call. Jack wasn’t answering and Gwen…” He sighed deeply and regretfully.
“Everyone thinks you’re dead.” Martha replied sadly.
“And we’re still thinking Ianto Jones is dead until these tests say otherwise.” Mickey cut in, sending a meaningful glance to his wife. He didn’t want her to get her hopes up just to be crushed again. Martha rolled her eyes at his rude words and stepped closer to Ianto, who just looked resigned. Having his hands cuffed behind his back, Ianto didn’t have a view of what Martha was doing. He waited patiently for the small prick of the needle and a second later, the doctor moved away from him again.
“Tell me what happened…” He pleaded, craning his neck and searching out Martha's eyes. It was the only movement he allowed himself under the watchful eyes of Mickey Smith. Ianto didn’t want to give the man an excuse to shoot him.
“Jack managed to defeat the 456.” Martha answered vaguely--the silence a little too long and a little too awkward for all involved. “Then he left. That’s what Gwen told me.”
“Left?” Ianto felt a stab of pain in his chest. Jack was gone. “You don’t know where he’s gone to?”
Martha shook her head slowly, without turning to look at Ianto. She couldn’t bring herself to do that. “All I know is that he’s not on Earth anymore. He said it was too small.” She replied in a low voice while setting a sample of Ianto’s blood in a Petri dish in another tray and hooking that to her laptop. She was thankful that she had “borrowed” some of UNIT’s technology after she left the organization; it would make comparing Ianto’s DNA with the archive much more easier. “He was in a terrible shape. Grieving. At least, that’s what Gwen said.”
Ianto nodded his understanding, not trusting his voice to speak. He didn’t have time to mull this news over, though, a sound drew his attention; his head snapped forward again, startled. Mickey noticed the alarmed look and followed to where Ianto's eyes were glued to the metal doors of the front end of the warehouse. Something was not right.
“We need to leave.” Ianto said slowly. The sound was muffled, but he could definitely make out movement outside. “Right now.” He looked to Mickey and Martha.
The couple exchanged a look, obviously having an entire conversation without saying a word. There was something in Ianto’s tone that made both of them believe danger were up ahead. Mickey nodded sharply to his wife and reached over to release Ianto, while Martha threw her stuff back inside her backpack.
“Don’t think for a second I trust you.” Mickey warned as he took a step back from Ianto, who just nodded.
“That way.” He said, leading the couple towards the back door, from where Mickey had come. “And I suggest we run.”