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Splintered Consort	By : elruefaerie Category: S through Z > Torchwood Views: 2336 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Torchwood, its characters, or most Vampire lore. This is not for Profit, I just like to write.

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Disclaimer: I do not own Torchwood, its characters, or it's backstory. This is not for Profit, I just like to write.
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TRAP AND CAPTURE
April 21, 2110
Jack didn't come out of the office for days following that evening, and when he did, neither Alec nor Tilden saw him coming or going. He simply disappeared and returned the next day, usually a stench of alcohol filling the already musty basement.
There was a knocking on his office door that accompanied Jack's current hangover, he ignored it, continuing to stare at the ceiling when the door opened on it's own. �What the bloody hell has gotten into you?�
Jack groaned. �Til, Is there a Weevil on the loose?�
�No.�
�How about an unauthorized craft landing?�
�Not today.� �A strange murder?�
�Nope.�
Jack stood up and slammed his fists against his desk. �Then WHY are you in here?� He shouted at her, his eyes red and rimmed with circles.
There room blurred slightly and a 'crack' resounded in Jack's ears. When he refocused again, his cheek was stinging. He blinked stupidly at the woman in front of him. �You,� He stammered, �You slapped me,� He brought a hand up to cradle his own cheek while Til nodded, obviously trying to hold on to her propriety.
�Thanks. I needed it,� Jack smiled loftily at her.
Tilden just sniffed and handed him the file she had brought in, �Alec did some research on vampires. He was too afraid to confront you himself with it,� Jack winced as the guilt set in, but Tilden continued, �Whatever you did last week couldn't have killed it, not unless you had Garlic infused or wooden bullets loaded into the glock.� Jack reached for the file and opened it, shaking his head a bit in an attempt to keep the words from dancing across the pages.
�I'll get you some coffee.�
Another pang of guilt ran through him.
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April 23, 2110
Jack sat in the van, parked above the wharf. It had been two days since Til had handed him the file on vampires. The information was fairly basic and jumbled together. Not much was known about the vampire species outside of books that had been popular in the 21st century. The only truths they could gather were that Vampires were nocturnal in a completely unconventional sense. Once the sun rose, a vampire would fall asleep, as though they had always been dead, unable to reawaken until the sun fully sets. Reports were drawn of vampires being mistaken for cadavers in schools or morgues in some cases. Of course, if they did not reach an area devoid of sunlight, they would burn. Vampires lived on blood, but unlike most vampire folklore, the Torchwood files noted them as aliens from a planet that had no sun, who landed on earth when their food supply had been wiped clean by a comet that forced most of their home to be encased with ice. It was the strangest report Jack had ever read by a field agent.
Nevertheless, he had made his decision.
Jack climbed out of the van, which had the windows lined with a heavy material they sometimes used when they wanted to transport artifacts or other species through the city unnoticed. It was 1pm and the perfect time to walk around unhindered by executives returning from lunch and too early for school children to be running around.
Jack walked along the edge of the wharf where Ianto had fallen off the pier. The blood from when Jack shot him still stained the ground. A few meters away from where he stood the water lapped at a tube that ran under the pier and back into the city. Jack's shoulders fell as he realised he would be spending most of his afternoon smelling of sewer water.
He spotted one of the sewer entrances just beyond sight from passersby and climbed back into the van, parking beside it to block his view. He left the van with a Torchwood body bag tucked under one arm. Carefully, he lifted the lid and pulled out his gun, lowering himself into the smelly abyss.
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Ianto woke up to find the sewers were glowing oddly. He sat up and looked around, slowly taking in his surroundings. No, he wasn't in the sewers anymore. Instead, he was in a cement room that was split in half by a large glass wall stretching from floor to ceiling. To his left was a metal door, the top proving to be some kind of air lock where food was probably passed through. On the opposite side of the glass from him there was a short set of steps leading to a door with a key lock on it.
Ianto groaned, stretching to wake up the rest of his senses. He stood up and walked around the cell, finding more than enough room for him to stretch out in. Carefully, he tapped what he had first thought was glass finding it instead to be some form of enforced polycarbonate. A smile crossed his lips as he looked at the sleeve of his jacket. It was clean, which meant he had been redressed at some point during the day. At least he wouldn't smell like garbage anymore.
An hour passed before there was a click of a lock opening and the lights above him changed from black light to fluorescent. He watched as his captor entered the room, allowing for the door to shut securely behind him. They stared at each other for a long while before Jack's lips parted in a grin. �Welcome. You know, for a while there I really thought you were dead.�
Ianto snarled, showing his teeth. Jack continued, �Does that rigor mortise thing always set in during daylight? Cause it was a pain to carry you back through those sewer tunnels in a seated position...� Ianto practically barked, cutting him off.
�Let me out, Jack.� He growled, banging on the translucent barrier in front of him.
�So the amnesia back at the wharf was just temporary?� Jack asked, holding onto his smile as best he could.
�You'd be surprised at what a bullet to the head can accomplish,� Ianto turned his head to the side to show a small hole oozing dried blood from his head, �You seemed to have hit the right spot.�
�You've told me that before.� Jack was playing with him, like a game, but Ianto knew the rules this time.
�You always were a cocky bastard,� He coughed, still scowling.
Jack only grinned wider, �Well, I couldn't imagine you would forget someone has handsome as me. It was only a matter of time.�
�Let me out,� Ianto cajoled softly, as though speaking to a child, �and we'll talk.� the last word rang with seductiveness, another look that was out of place on the Ianto he remembered. A man who too was shy to even speak of sex on a normal day.
Jack walked up to the glass separating them, �First, tell me, if you didn't remember anything then why send me the dead bodies?�
Ianto lost his patience, �Let me OUT!� he charged the glass from the center of his cell, only to bounce back again. Jack didn't flinch, and Ianto growled at that damn smirk still plastered to his face.
�Like your room? Newly renovated, just for you.� He grinned cheekily. Pointing up to the lights �Black light instead of total darkness during daylight hours when you become a stiff again,� he let the pun drag through a moment of quiet then turned back to the translucent plate of plexi in between them, �And you've already noticed the glass,� he rapped it smartly a few times with his knuckles, �Lexan, enforced with a 3 inch thickness to keep it steady.�
�You think this,� Ianto mimicked Jack's earlier knocks with his own fist, double enforced by his unnatural strength. �will keep me in here?�
�Not if we intended to feed you often, no.� Ianto's eyes widened at the remark and Jack's smile spread in an almost evil way. �Which is why I hope you savoured the last meal you had.�
�And what of your companions? Those now running Torchwood up above?� The vampire asked slyly, sniffing at the air to reveal he knew they were walking around above him, as though their scents were intoxicating.
�They can't get in. I've locked this room from the main system; they don't even know it exists.� Ianto could almost recognize the smile on Jack's face as the same one he wore when he was proud of a particularly insane idea.
�Still keeping secrets from your teammates, then?� The vampire asked.
Jack frowned, �Get used to it. No one but you and me down here.�
Ianto pushed himself away from the wall of Lexan and backed up a few paces, hands on his hips he looked up at the ceiling lights, �And where is 'here?'�
Jack smiled triumphantly. �Torchwood Four, popped up in Bristol about four years ago. We had to abandon Five soon after, anyhow.�
Ianto matched Jack's smile, as though he were proud, �You always said you'd find it sooner or later.� Ianto smile turned dismal, thinking back to the time when he'd first joined Torchwood at the Cardiff base. He placed his hands in his pant pockets and looked around, noting the fresh installation of the air lock and plate glass. Even the cement seemed newly set in some places. �It's a lot cleaner than Three was. There were stains in that place even I couldn't get rid of.�
Jack felt a sense of disarm. He was acting like the real Ianto Jones now. The same Ianto Jones he had worked with for so many years, whom he had relied on in the worst of times, whose bed he had shared and whose body he had slept beside for so many nights. Ianto looked down again and caught his eye, an alien sneer crossing his lips, �Who's the hypocrite now?� The vampire leered.
Jack shook himself from his reverie. �I don't know what you mean.� He began to walk back up the steps toward the door. Jack felt he had given away much more than he had planned for one evening.
�Feeling lost over an ex lover, someone who died and became a monster,� Ianto called out to him, referring to the day Lisa had run amok in Torchwood. Jack paused on the second step, his hand gripping the rail. �Slight difference. You're not trying to take over the universe.�
Ianto huffed in disagreement. �I kill to feed and create others in my shadow. Sound familiar?� He mocked.
�You are not a Cyberman.� Jack whispered, still holding on to the railing so tightly his knuckles ran white from the pressure.
�I am not Ianto either.� Jack stopped walking up the steps and moved back in front of the Lexan.
�Funny, you look just like him. Even answer to the same name.� He snapped back.
The vampire's eyes fell to the floor and he turned to walk to the back of his concrete room, �At least, I'm not the Ianto you remember. You should kill me now while you still have a chance.�
Jack let an incredulous chuckle escape his lips. �I've got time; and so do you it seems.�
Ianto remained standing in the center of the cell, hands still in his pockets and back facing Jack as he looked up at the lights.
�Where did you come from? Who created you?� Jack called after him when the vampire made no move to continue the conversation.
�You already know the answer to that.�
A ghost of a smile lay across Jack's lips as he backed up to lean against the cement wall directly across from the tank in a casual manner, �Well then, just for kicks, why don't you remind me?�
A growl ripped through the vampire and in one swift movement he turned to charge at the glass separating him from his captor, �KILL ME!� He screamed, beating against the shatterproof walls.
Jack's smile faded and he shook his head, turning back to the door to leave, �Not tonight.� he called back flatly.
Ianto's anger raged on throughout the night.
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October 29, 2109
It had been six months since Jack had locked up Ianto Jones, the Vampire, in the sub basement of Torchwood. Each night after his team left, Jack would walk down the steps to the door with the keypad and punch in the access code to look at the monstrosity he had captured. Ianto had always been a caring man, soft but brave. This being in front of him was nothing but a monster; proud, strong, and full of rage. He shouted at Jack most nights to let him go or completely clammed up if Jack tried to ask him questions, not once giving him anything to eat.
Ianto began to weaken, the quiet between them became more frequent, but Jack continued to visit him. His Ianto, the Ianto he knew, would talk when he felt like it, or when it suited him best, and so Jack waited until he was ready. This night he had brought back a small mouse, the kind pet stores used to hand feed snakes. He tossed it into the air lock and sent it over to the other side of the cell.
Before he could even move back to stand in front of the glass, Ianto had grabbed the mouse and shoved it towards his mouth, the final squeaks of the animal resounding throughout the room in its last seconds of existence.
Jack watched as the man before him breathed deeply, shoulders moving up and down in a slow pattern. For a moment, he expected to see the Ianto he remembered turn to look at him again, but as the being before him turned all wishes were quickly swept away. The vampire's eyes were dilated like a junky with his first long awaited fix. Blood stained his mouth and dribbled down the pale neck as though he himself were bleeding. Ianto tossed the carcass back into the lock like he was throwing out a pair of dirty socks.
A look of disgust must have surfaced onto Jack's face as the vampire grinned devilishly and brought his dead fingers to his lips, licking and nipping them seductively. Jack looked away, retreating to a spot along the back wall where he had left a decanter of whiskey for himself. Ianto watched as Jack poured himself a glass and drew a long sip from it.
�Are you going to tell me why you were trying to get my attention now?� Jack asked again, but Ianto was resilient.
Jack took another drink and sat down against the wall. For some reason, he found himself down here more often than he did in his own bed on the nights when things were quiet around Torchwood. It was almost comforting, in some very twisted ways, to see Ianto pacing around his cell, not saying anything. Then again, Jack was drinking more and more alcohol on those nights too.
�I wasn't sending any kind of message.� Ianto retorted after about half an hour. �I already told you: I didn't remember anything until I woke up the next day with a bullet lodged into my skull. Those people they were...� He trailed off, trying to understand what had been happening himself six months ago.
�They were what?� Jack inquired, standing up and crossing his arms against his chest, the glass hanging from one hand. �Nightmares. I was having dreams that I was killing people, people who I felt close to. I was blacking out from the onslaught of whatever it was I had forgotten.�
�So let me get the straight,� Jack uncrossed his arms, �You stumbled into Cardiff, just passing through, and were losing consciousness - or whatever I guess you would call it - during the night, killing people who reminded you of your past life?�
�Yes.�
�Then I come along, shoot you in the head and everything just comes back?� Jack was pointing at Ianto now, the whiskey in his hand forgotten. For a moment the vampire shied away, something the living Ianto Jones would have done back when he was at Torchwood when he knew he had done something wrong.
�Yes. No. Bits and pieces at first. Getting shot isn't exactly something you walk away from,� he paused then seemed to chuckle, �Well, something I couldn't walk away from, even as a vampire. The more I resuscitated myself with blood, the more memories came back.�
Jack turned back to the wall and bent over to set the glass by his feet, �Like what?�
With his back turned, Jack missed the grin that crept over Ianto's lips. His eyes bearing the same dim red color that night on the wharf. �Like Tosh and Owen. Visions of Lisa. Bits of information concerning Torchwood and, among my favorites, how to operate the bloody coffee machine.�
Jack's back straightened and he turned to stare Ianto down, gauging his reaction. There was a motive in here somewhere. He let the vampire continue, watching him pace back and forth in front of the glass. �How every one else was allowed to leave on the weevil hunts. How under appreciated I was.�
�You BEGGED me for that job!� Jack interrupted, despite himself.
Ianto walked towards Jack, as close to the glass as he could get without hanging on it. �I begged you for a starting point! For something that would allow me to prove myself, and you hired others to do what mattered, rather than promoting me!�
Jack's hands balled into fists at his side, �Stop it! You're not going to rattle me!�
�You never trusted me; you kept me in the dark. It wasn't until half the team died that you started to hand me my own missions.�
�I said Stop it!�
�Ianto the tea boy. Ianto the housemaid. Ianto the lost pup.�
�Stop it Stop it STOP IT!� Jack hurled the glass snifter at the Lexan glass where it shattered into large shards and amber liquid sluiced down the pane like muddy rain water.
The pale figured behind smiled in the dark, the light reflecting off his ashen skin as he savored a small victory. Jack gulped in lung-fulls of air as he tried to slow down the erratic beating of his heart.
�Tsk Tsk.� Ianto clucked. �Anger never was a good color on you.�
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AN: Feel free to review!
As Always, thank you to my Betas Jen and JonesIantoJones!
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