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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.

Chapter List
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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.

AN: For whatever reason, I never finished posting this fic to AFF.net. Appologies for anyone waiting to read it, however, even after almost 2 years I *still* haven't posted the final chapter anywhere...

Anyways, I hope you all enjoy!

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INTERROGATION

December 8, 2110

Jack returned for the eighth night in a row, a new whiskey decanter hanging from his arm. He didn't sit down though, instead choosing to lean against the railing of the concrete steps that lead to the floor which he usually occupied. He was arguing with Ianto's silence, bargaining for more information.

“C'mon,” He coaxed after a few minutes, “Just tell me how you survived down there. No humans to feed on, and I know that 'Alligators in the Sewers' thing is just a publicity trick. They're just trying to cover up the Wani invasion of the 1800's. Nasty aliens. Slimy when wet, easily dehydrated, and practically trash compactors when it comes to food. They'll eat anything, which is probably why they choose to hang out in the sewers with weevils,”

Jack continued rambling for half an hour before Ianto rolled his eyes and stood up. In the past Jack had always taken to talking to anyone that would listen to what he had to say. Ianto had never been one to say much, even now, so it hadn't bothered him, but this wasn't the 'good old days' anymore, and the talk of sewers was making him ill.

“Rats,” He finally interjected. Jack turned to look at him, having begun pacing across the floors during his one-sided conversation, “I fed off sewer rats.”

“And that was enough to sustain you?” Jack's eyebrow had quirked up in disbelief.

Ianto made a face, and for a moment Jack thought he might gag. “Of course not. Why do you think I was still down there when you returned? They're small-minded, insignificant animals. Their blood is full of diseases and the taste is akin to eating nuclear mud.” Ianto held his stomach, trying to be sure he really wasn't about to dry heave. “It was them or me. I chose them.” he finished after steadying himself.

The sight of a vampire losing his lunch was not something Jack felt like witnessing, even if it had been months since his last real feeding. His joyful mood from a few minutes before had dissipated, leaving the room feeling cramped and dark. Ianto went to sit down again, not prompting another conversation, but the nausea passing as he thought of deer and rabbits, anything that he remembered tasting sweet when he had no humans to feast on.

“Who made you?” Jack whispered through the air.

“Ah,” Ianto's elongated canines flashed as he grinned, “You already know the answer to that.”

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October 19, 2110

Had he wanted revenge for the way things had ended, rather than try to avenge himself for the pain Jack had caused him on the pier, Ianto could have stumbled back to Torchwood on his own. He would have feigned weakness and pity to infiltrate the hub until he'd killed everyone and tortured Jack for his past. The vampire voiced this to the man sitting on the cold concrete floor before him.

“Then why didn't you?” Jack swung another glass full of Whiskey down his throat, belligerence beginning to seep into his words.

Ianto shrugged, “I suppose I didn't have the heart for it,”

Jack laughed at that, and even Ianto seemed to let out a small chuckle at the statement. “Besides,” He continued, “It wouldn't have fit in with my original goal.”

“And what IS your goal, pray tell?” Jack's words slurred on 'is' as he poured himself another glass.

Ianto shook his head gravely, “Jack, Jack,” licking his lips as he repeated the name, “If I told you that, the game would be ruined.”

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December 25, 2110

The air lock hissed its usual greeting and Ianto reached in to pull out a fairly large, frightened sewer rat. He frowned as it nipped at his hand, but bit into the neck all the same. It had been months since Jack had fed him anything. It was his way to be sure Ianto wouldn't regain enough strength to break through his cell. When the rat fell limp, Ianto sucked on it one last time before tossing the carcass back into the lock and shutting the door. The fetid smell of rotting flesh already began to waft through it.

There was no look of accomplishment on Ianto's face this time, just the vile expression of loathing one who had eaten something rather spoiled and rotten would use. Jack's arms crossed over his chest and he smiled cheekily. “I remembered how much you liked those.” His head jerked towards the rat still sitting in the air lock.

The vampire growled a warning, but did not charge the plexiglass. Jack gave one last dashingly winning smile of triumph before turning his back to the cell, waving a hand as he headed toward the door and switched off the lights again. His voice dripped with sarcasm “Merry Christmas.”

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January 1, 2111

“Why are you always down here?” Ianto had grown thin again, and he lay in the corner, hugging himself against the cold outside Bristol. Would it kill Jack to give him a blanket or turn the heater on?

He looked over at the man sitting against the floor with yet another snifter of whiskey. This time he had brought a clear plastic cup with him as well as his own glass. The captain poured himself a generous portion before tipping the golden brown liquid again into the plastic cup, reaching the brim. Slowly, he stood, walked over to the hatch and slid the whiskey inside. Ianto waited until Jack stood in front of him again before removing the plastic cup from the lock.

He eyed Jack suspiciously before sniffing the contents. Jack, it seemed, took no offense and lifted his own glass to the vampire before downing his own helping in one large swing. Ianto raised an eyebrow and copied the man before taking his own sip. The alcohol burned down his throat, but warmed him considerably, and he closed his eyes to savor the taste.

“I suppose I pity you.” Jack replied, filling his glass again from the snifter.

Ianto sneered. “I don't need your pity.” he hissed, before drinking a healthy gulp of whiskey.

They sat there for hours, neither speaking up as they drank into the night.

“It was dark,” Ianto breathed so softly Jack had almost missed the words, “When I awoke. I was confused and it was dark. I reached out to find a lamp, but all my fingers met with was wood. I reached to the other side, and then tried to sit up. Each time smacking into the exact same barrier.”

Jack could barely breathe. In the year Ianto had been kept down in the underbelly of the hub, he had never talked about his Rebirth. Jack nodded slightly to show Ianto that he had the Captain's attention. Ianto stared into his empty cup, having finished the drink long before.

“The last thing I remembered was seeing your face. Telling you...” He paused, “Talking to you.” He finished, not wanting to repeat the three words Jack had never spoken back to him, “The next thing I knew, I was in a box, and it was dark.”

“I screamed for hours, hoping someone would hear me. The sun must have risen. I fell asleep, thinking I was truly going to die of asphyxiation from being buried alive; but then I awoke again the next night. I wasted no time that night, and began beating against the wood above me...”

“Jesus,” Jack whispered and Ianto looked up at him, “You dug yourself out of the grave?” Ianto nodded, frowning.

“There were some punk lads in the cemetery that night. They were young, stupid, and drunk. I walked up to them in the suit I had been wearing when...in the suit that I had been wearing.” A deranged sounding laugh escaped him. “God, it's been hundred years, and I still can't admit that I was dead.”

“You are dead.” Jack replied.

Ianto sneered, irritated that he had been interrupted, but not wanting to miss the look on Jack's face as he finished his story. “I was confused, disoriented. They tried to haze me a bit. Scare me off and poke fun at me as though I were some old nutter loose in the cemetery.

“One of them pushed me, and I grabbed him by the scruff of his neck. The force alone almost broke his collarbones. I could feel the blood pumping beneath his skin,” Ianto barely noticed the green tinge Jack's face took on as he recounted those moments, hand squeezing at the air as though the kid were still within his grasp. It was as though he were reliving it all over again. The hunger and the need to kill already etched into his features.

“I didn't even know what I was doing until my teeth broke the skin,” His tongue slid gently over his fangs as though polishing a prized trophy, “The life of the boy coursed through me, and I was already gone, giving into the instinct and raw animal desire.” Ianto's breathing increased and he could feel himself growing hard at the memory of such pleasure, “I killed them all within a matter of minutes. Six of them, with a speed I still couldn't understand, but felt so natural.” He finished, eyes closed and head back. He took a few more breaths of air, grinning at the ceiling before letting his head loll to the side and opening his eyes where they could fix onto Jack's horror-stricken face.

“You went into shock.” The words passed through Jack's lips without him realizing he had even spoken.

Ianto's smiled faded, “Yes. It's known to happen when a vampire awakens without a sire there to guide him.” He unfolded his legs away from the wall, eyes never leaving Jack's, his erection persistently tenting his pants, “In that moment I gave in to the darkness; and I never looked back.”

Jack's eyes watered over, “Until I shot you,” He whispered, as unembarrassed of his tears as Ianto was of his own body's reaction. “You didn't know what you were doing, you didn't have a choice,” Jack mumbled, shocked as Ianto stood and launched himself toward the glass at a disconcerting speed in his weakened state.

“DON'T do that. Don't try to humanize what I did.” He growled angrily.

“It wasn't your fault! You woke up alone.” The tears flowed freely down Jack's face now.

“Because YOU. Weren’t. There.” Ianto bit out bitterly.

Jack raised a hand to lay over Ianto's from the opposite side of the cell, “How could I? Tell me who did this to you! Tell me why!”

Ianto's anger faded sourly, but the resentment still showed. He crawled back to the corner he had occupied throughout the night, as though he had never left it, and shut his eyes, “I keep telling you: You already know the answer to that.”

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February 5, 2111

Jack didn't visit for a month after that night. Ianto couldn't say he missed the feeling of all air being sucked from the room, but he was dead bored stuck there all alone, no pun intended.

Jack was binge drinking again when he returned, usually supporting the idea that the day had been rough, someone innocent had most likely died. Ianto rolled his eyes “Doesn't your liver ever get tired of being abused?” He reprimanded.

Jack had brought down a bottle of gin along with his usual whiskey. Both were nearly empty. “That's the thing about being immortal and unable to die. You're liver will never give out on you, no matter how much you drink.” Jack's grin was lopsided as he lifted another glass in salute to Ianto before knocking back the whole shot.

The vampire raised a single eyebrow. “Nothing?” He asked incredulously. Jack shrugged.

“Like every other time I get hurt. It affects me, but only for a certain length of time, which always varies. Things just mend on their own, outside and in.” Jack's face looked placid before suddenly scrunching up in denial, “You're telling me you've been around for a hundred years and you still don't know this?”

Ianto shrugged as well. “Guess I never paid much attention to it is all.”

Jack scoffed drunkenly, “You have to be the most boring vampire to ever roam this planet.”

Ianto smirked, not seeming to take any offense from the remark, “At least I was the best dressed.” He commented. “Perhaps I should have taken up smoking, too, if my lungs can't get damaged either.”

“I never liked smoking. Filthy habit,” Jack shook his head, taking light of the situation, “The smell gets into everything: Clothes, furniture, and it will always ruin a first kiss. Every time.”

An awkward silence followed Jack's statement and Ianto's mood seemed to deteriorate again. Jack continued to finish off the bottles beside him before passing out on the concrete floor, Ianto quietly watching as his chest rose and fell. It had been a long time since Ianto had been able to watch Jack sleep, and longer still since he had been able to touch Jack or lie next to him. More memories flooded Ianto's head and he ripped his gaze away from the sleeping form of his former lover, trying to suppress the splintering ache in his chest. It felt like the longest night that he had spent in the cell since he had arrived.

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May 17, 2111

“Funny,” Ianto commented airily, as though speaking to himself.

Jack's eyebrow quirked in curiosity, “What is?” It was the first words they had spoken to each other in months.

“Funny how a single year begins to feel like barely a month when you can live forever,” Ianto turned to look at Jack, gauging his reaction.

One corner of Jack's mouth lifted slightly and he leaned his back flush against the wall, looking up to the ceiling as well. “You get used to it.” He reminisced vaguely. “Time doesn't hold as much meaning as it used to when you're immortal.”

Ianto nodded his head in agreement. “Makes those years when I was alive feel rather insignificant.”

Jack picked his head up and looked over at Ianto, feeling a little hurt at the remark. Aside from the pallid look on the vampire's face, Jack could almost see the human side of him again. He sighed deeply and pushed the nostalgia away as best he could, “Guess it makes you feel better to know you're not wasting that much time down here then,” He stood up and stretched, deciding to get some sleep before the others arrived for the day.

“Perhaps there's someone missing you up there, though?” Jack suggested to the silence, turning with one hand on the door to the upstairs. Ianto had already turned away from him. “Who made you, Ianto?” He repeated for the hundredth time. Ianto simply shrugged.

“You already know the answer to that.”

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September 10, 2111

“What was it like, when the wars started?” Jack had read up on the Earth's history during his absence, but he still missed out on most recounts of the events that had taken place. Not all bombings or army invasions were covered in detail, and most were just sort of glossed over with 'when Italy took over...' without any talk of how they had taken over, or the people they had captured.

He was horrified to see Ianto's lips twitch in satisfaction, “People ran from the cities. Most left during the day when I was sedated, but sometimes I would find families trying to sneak out in the darkness. Most of the attacks came around midnight or later. People were so desperate to stay safe that the smaller towns were building underground shelters. I'd wait in one during the day, and at night they would flee the falling shells, only to end up as my meal.” He stretched his arms and rolled his neck, placing his hands behind his head and stared up at the ceiling dreamily. “The fear was so tangible in those days. It was like a high, feeding off those families. They escaped one disaster only to die in another,” He stopped as Jack growled from the other side of the room.

“Forget it. Sorry I asked.”

There was another long silence, but the discussion had seemed to put Ianto in a good mood, “I traveled a lot in those days, moving through France and Spain before spending more time in Italy and Rome than I did the UK,” Jack pretended not to be listening, “I didn't care much for Rome, though. The vampires there were rather unaccommodating. I intended to leave at the first full moon and try out Germany when I was abducted by the counsel.”

Jack's curiosity got the better of him. “Vampires have a counsel?”

Ianto shrugged, “They like to think they do. An elder who calls himself ‘Cassini’ runs it. He had heard of my presence and decided to invite me into his,” there was a slight pause, “hospitality, for a few days.” Ianto trailed off.

Jack had rarely ever heard him talk so much, but he could tell there wouldn't be anymore coming when the silence stretched on for another fifteen minutes.

When Jack awoke the next morning, the black lights had kicked on and Ianto lay in the middle of the floor like a dead body where rigor-mortise had already set in. A chill shimmied its way down Jack's spine at the sight and he turned away quickly. Breakfast didn't seem much like a good idea that morning.

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November 30, 2111

“Did you sire many others?” Jack's curiosity was catching up with him. It had been a year and a half since he'd brought Ianto down here, and he was no closer to finding out the Vampire's origin than he had been since Ianto's story of his Rebirth.

Surprisingly, Ianto nodded and moved to sit in front of Jack, leaning against the glass with his back and looking towards the back of the concrete cell. He didn't continue until Jack had sat down on the opposite side of the glass and poured himself a drink. A human and a vampire sitting back to back with a plate of glass between them, if there hadn't been such a foreboding presence among them Jack imagined the scene would be comical. “Four,” Ianto replied. “One girl, three boys.”

Jack half snorted. “I guess I still had an influence on you, didn't I? Even if you couldn't remember,” He added the last sentence after taking a large gulp of whiskey.

“Even I needed companionship after a couple of years, Jack. They never lasted long, though.” Ianto trailed off.

Jack downed another shot. There was something in him that boiled when he thought of Ianto sleeping with someone other than himself. Sure, he had gone out and spent the night away from Ianto while he lived, but that was an entirely different matter in his opinion. Jack's brow furrowed and he looked accusingly at his empty glass as he contemplated this in the silence growing around the room. Dammit, he really was a hypocrite!

“There were a lot of things that stuck with me,” Ianto whispered with his own frown marring the words, “For one, the need to keep things tidy all the time.”

Jack's concentration broke and he chuckled. “Is that so? How did that work out for you, being the bloodthirsty bastard you had become?”

There was another long silence as Ianto thought about his first few years as a vampire. He pushed himself off the floor and walked away from the glass. Jack could almost feel the connection they had break at the loss of minimal contact. He turned around to watch Ianto standing idly in the center of the cell. He was weaker than Jack had ever let him get, but things had been hectic above ground, and there hadn't been much time to find an animal to feed him that wouldn't return the vampire to full strength.

“There were things, small things, that occasionally pushed themselves to the surface. Sometimes they were so overwhelming I had to fight to control myself. Deep down, I don't think I wanted to remember my first life,” He turned again to look at Jack, but the man had already begun gathering up his drink for the evening. Jack's mind spun from the things he'd heard; things Ianto was admitting to. He had wanted to forget Jack, forget the time they spent together. Ianto had fought to let go of everything he had been. Everything Jack had cared for. Ianto had purposely allowed himself to forget before running into Jack.

Suddenly, he didn't feel much like listening to the rest of Ianto's story that night.

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March 9, 2111

“Did you love her?” Ianto had been silent all night, and Jack had just stood up to stretch before walking towards the door to the upper floor. He stopped his hand on the doorknob, “Who?”

“Gwen. Did you love her?” Had Jack's heart not dropped to his stomach, he would have missed the slight waver in Ianto's voice as he asked his question.

Jack took a deep breath, followed by two or three more, before turning around and releasing the doorknob. He lifted his chin high enough to look at the cell, but his eyes stared at Ianto's feet, so as not to make eye contact. “She belonged with Rhys.”

There was a thickness in the air Jack couldn't place and a lump in his throat as Ianto's shoes disappeared from his view. He took another deep breath and walked back down the steps. He had seen the look in Ianto's eyes back then. Every time Jack embraced Gwen, every time he seemed to crumble under her words of praise toward Rhys, Ianto had noticed and Jack had seen how much it hurt him. He hadn't done it deliberately, but there were so many conflicting emotions running through him at that time.

Jack placed a hand on the Lexan and leaned his forehead against the oddly warm window, waiting for Ianto to speak again. Another hour passed before Jack could hear the whimpers subside. A hundred years later and Ianto was still hurt by Jack's actions. In that moment, he felt like the world's biggest fool.

“I always knew she was the reason you didn't love me back.” Ianto whispered tears still apparent in his voice. Jack's head snapped up and he stared into Ianto's back. “Didn't love...Tell me that's not what you really thought?”

Ianto said nothing. The lump in Jack's throat grew larger, and he choked over his next words. “Answer me!” He shouted at the figure in front of him.

Ianto's shoulders suddenly stiffened, “You're team is arriving for work.” He turned his head a quarter of the way to the side, a nostril flared at the scent of the two humans coming into the sub basement above them.

“Ianto, I'm not leaving. Not until you know that...”

An alarm went off around them. Jack sneered as he wiped his face on his sleeves. Of all the times for something to threaten them! He slid his jacket back on and trudged up the stairs, making his way out of the room without so much as a glance towards Ianto. They would have to finish this conversation another evening.

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AN: Hehe-Finally getting closer to the truth! Please review if you have a few extra seconds to spare-I hope this is a good read for everyone!

As Always , thank you to my Betas Jen and JonesIantoJones!
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