m-findlow.livejournal.com

Title: One wish
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Ianto, Jack, Gwen
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 3,349 words
Content notes: none
Author notes: Written for Challenge 151 - Wish
Summary: Ianto gets the chance to make one wish

There truly was no such thing as a night off, Ianto thought dejectedly, as the loud crashing sound jolted him from slumber. He rolled over on the empty bed and stretched to reach the alarm clock and read off time. 2.14am, lovely. He sat up, trying to clear the sleepiness from his head as another loud bang sounded outside. He wished he could say categorically that it was nothing more than a cat or a fox, crashing about in the dustbins for food, but a lot of years experience had taught him to expect the unexpected. And if it were a cat or a fox, it was a very, very big one judging by the noise.

At least the sound seemed to be coming from his yard. He half hoped it was just Jack doing something crazy or ridiculous, but those chances were slim. He was on rift duty back at the hub.

He began shuffling around the room, dressing in whatever he could bring to hand. The house was still in its honeymoon phase, even after five months. So few nights had he actually spent there so far, that he hadn't acquainted himself with the muscle memory that allowed him to navigate the house in the dark without stumbling into furniture. Whatever was going on outside, he wasn't keen to alert anyone by turning on the lights.  A few bumps and bruises was a small price to pay.

He left the bedroom and padded down the hall to the spare room, which faced out onto his yard, edging toward the window and carefully pulling back the sheer curtain just enough to see outside. It was a moonless night and thick with fog but there seemed no mistaking that there was something very large and very alien now parked there.

'Should've bought a place further from the rift,' he muttered. It had seemed a good idea at the time. The house was perfectly situated. Five minutes drive from the hub, or ten if the one way system was having a bad day, or a pleasant twenty-five minutes walk. It was much larger than his old flat, and the two story terrace was more suited to his comings and goings at all odd hours of the day and night. That was the problem living in a complex,everyone knew everyone, and everyone knew if you were the one that suspiciously got about in the middle of the night, or turned up looking like you were covered in slime, which he sometimes was, and what sort of people turned up with you. He hadn't been trying to attract attention, but he'd heard plenty of rumors about what his neighbours thought he was up to, and even more about the attractive bedfellow that was seen hovering in the vicinity on a regular basis. At least here, he could move about with relative anonymity, and blame the rest on shift work. A few curtains might twitch from time to time but he could live with that. Plus, if he had to pick a place far enough away from the rift, he might well end up in Swansea.

He should have called Jack straight away, then realised that whatever had just crash landed in his yard was probably big enough to have set off a rift alert that would knock him right off his chair, where he was likely laid back, daydreaming about a world with no paperwork.

He decided not to wait for Jack to arrive. In any case, he would likely pick up Gwen on the way and that would take him another twenty minutes. It wasn't an overconfidence of his own abilities, more a practical sense that whatever it was could be dangerous, or leaking toxic material, or someone could be hurt and in need of medical care. And it was his yard. If anyone had the right to trundle out there and be miffed, it was him.

He pushed the curtains back into place, unable to see much and made his way back to the bedroom, pulling open the side table drawer, extracting his gun and a blister pack of retcon. Padding down the stairs, he passed through the spacious kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water and tucking it and the retcon into the oversized pocket on the front of his hooded top. Chances were good that his new neighbours were just as nosy as the old ones, and someone was going to need to forget whatever it was they'd seen tonight. He hadn't anticipated his first introduction to the neighbourhood would be to invite them around for tea and retcon. Then again, perhaps he should have.

Before leaving the kitchen he bent down and pulled out the bottom drawer and fished out a torch. Resting it under his gun, he stepped toward the large patio doors and eased himself out into the yard.

It was cold, the fog hanging in dense patches, but beyond it he could make out a round metallic object at the far end of the yard, its warmth creating a steam that rose from its surface in the chilly air. Whatever it was, it had crash landed and caused a lot of mess. Mind you, the yard hadn't exactly been a contender for Chelsea, still pretty much in the same derelict state it had been when he'd first bought it. There just wasn't time for gardening. He really ought to arrange a Torchwood working bee to tidy it up. Surely they owed him that much after he'd spent the last five years tidying up after them. He supposed at least, if it had to crash anywhere, a Torchwood agent's yard was probably as good a place as any, assuming you weren't hostile and bent on destruction.

His hand tensed around the gun as he stepped closer. He hoped that if the vessel was occupied, that they were friendly.

Another loud bang and he caught sight of a panel on the side of the craft falling open, uncertain if it was from damage or intent.

'Hello?' he called out, then remembered that he should have done so in Galactic Standard, not English. He was far from fluent, only knowing a few basic phrases that Jack had taught him such as "hello", "are you hurt?", "we mean you no harm", and "don't shoot". One day he might venture to learn more, but since Jack had survived one hundred and fifty years without learning Welsh, Ianto figure he'd survive a few years without learning the universal standard. Perhaps if he were traveling, he might reconsider.

He tried again. 'Hello? Are you okay? I mean you no harm.' Adding "don't shoot" seemed a bit melodramatic at this point. Especially when he was the one armed with a gun.

From out of the darkness and the fog came two objects. They looked like giant mauve eggs, carried about on three tiny little legs, and about three feet tall. At the top of their egg-like apex,was a tiny little face, but no noses.

'Don't shoot!' came the reply.

He blinked for a second, trying to process whether he'd heard the response in English or Galactic Standard. He was pretty sure it was neither. Then it dawned on him that it was in Welsh. Aliens that speak Welsh? That can't be right.

'Hello?' he tried again in English.

'Make up your mind! The translator is getting confused!'

'Sorry,' he apologised, sticking to English, and stepping closer, figuring if anyone was going to kill him, they'd have done it by now. People didn't usually ask you not to shoot, then shoot you themselves. From what he could see of the two small egg creatures, they didn't look dangerous.

'We checked the local dialect before we exited. I didn't think they spoke Galactic Standard on this planet.'

'They don't,' Ianto answered. 'My name is Ianto Jones. I work for Torchwood. We're the, uh, welcome wagon for intergalactic visitors.' He made sure he tucked his gun into his waistband and out of view.  

'Ah, I see,'  said the first egg. 'Intzi, make a note of that when we get back.'

'Yes sir,' came the reply from the other egg, trying to salute with his tiny little arm, but failing to reach his forehead in the traditional way Ianto expected. He probably shouldn't think of them as eggs, he decided. They had limbs and faces and were conversing with him, after all.

'Apologies for our unexpected arrival. My name is Artol. We were traveling through your part of the galaxy. Your rift caught us unawares and we were pulled in by its gravity, without enough fuel on board to break away. We used what little we had left to try to control our landing. Apologies for the damage we've caused.'

'No problem,' Ianto assured them. 'Most of it was in a mess before you got here. Is your ship badly damaged?'

He took a moment to cast a backward glance at the outside of the ship. 'No, Intzi should be able to fix it. A few scratches easily repaired. We'll be on our way just as soon as we can get some replacement fuel.'

'We should be able to help you out with that,' Ianto affirmed. 'What do you need? Oil, nuclear fission? We can arrange for most types of gases as well.'

'Oh, nothing like that,' Artol replied. 'We abandoned fossil fuels millenia ago.'

'Oh,' Ianto looked crestfallen. He suddenly really wanted to be able to help them, but wasn't sure how.

'Don't look so sad. Of course you can help us. All we need is your mind.'

Ianto felt a chill run through him, and it had nothing to do with the weather. He didn't like the sound of this.

'My mind?'

'Do not be afraid. Let me explain. Our ship is fueled by a semi sentient engine which feeds on positive energy sources. Donors place themselves in the chamber and the engine absorbs the energy.'

Ianto still didn't like the sound of it. Donors? It sounded like giving up a kidney. 'How exactly?'

'There's a neural link to the donor. Each donor is given one wish to explore any desire they choose and the machine creates a mental reality in which the donor experiences their desires. This in turn generates happiness and positive feelings which are stored by the engine. No harm comes to the donor. It is as if they are in a dream state, and then once it's over, their memory is purged of the dream.'

Ianto furrowed his brow, trying to follow their explanation. 'So it's like a virtual reality simulator?'

'More than that,' Artol added, 'you would have full physical sensation of everything you experience inside the dream. It would seem as real as this life itself.'

'And if I went through with this, how long would I be stuck there?'

'Time has no relative concept inside the engine. Each donor session lasts only an hour, but what passes as an hour in this reality, could be hours or days, even years inside the dream. It all depends on what your wish or desire is. If you wanted to experience a meal, it would last as long as that meal. If you wished to travel to a certain place, your journey would last as long as you wished to remain in that place. Your body stays here, unaltered. Only your mind will travel.'

'Okay,' Ianto said slowly. 'When you put it like that, it doesn't sound quite so bad.'

'All of our vessels use this technology. I can assure you that dozens of species all over the universe have been willing donors to assist us in refueling. The ability to experience ones greatest desires is prize enough, even when they know that they will not be able to recall the details afterwards.'

He knew he should probably wait for Jack and Gwen to arrive, but they did seem genuine, and they were stuck here for the time being. What could it hurt to take them at their word? If they ended up sucking his brains out to power their ship, then it would be his own stupid fault for being so trusting.

'Alright. My friends will be here soon, but I agree to help. Will you tell them what's happened?'

'Of course. Please be assured that this is completely safe and that we will explain the same to your friends when  they arrive. Whilst you're inside the chamber we can attend to the minor repairs on the rest of the ship.'

The two egg heads, Artol and Intzi, for he hadn't yet thought to ask them their actual species name since he had first names to address them by, lead him through the open hatch and into a room that sat off to the side of the main corridor. It wasn't huge, but it had a warm yellow glow running around the edges that made him feel secure. At the centre was a long platform, rather like a couch you might find in a psychiatrists office.

'If you could lie on the platform please,' Intzi instructed, moving towards a panel that jutted out from the wall at his touch.

Ianto removed the gun from the back of his jeans, and the water bottle and torch from his front pocket, placing them on the ground next to the platform, so that he could lie down easily. The platform was actually more  comfortable than it looked.

'What do I do now?' he asked, half expecting them to wire him up to something.

'It's very simple. All you have to do is think about the thing you desire most, or anything that you could wish for,no matter how impossible, that would make you happy.'

'Genie in the bottle type wish?'

'I don't understand that reference,' Intzi said, looking perplexed.

'Never mind.'

He lay there and closed his eyes. His mind was always so methodical and pragmatic that at first he couldn't think of anything. He always spent his time diligently making up lists and prioritising. One wish for anything he could imagine seemed like the sort of thing he should have considered long and hard before coming to a conclusion. Instead he found his mind immediately drifting in a direction he hadn't even consciously been aware of, seeking out his most deeply embedded desires.

Ianto woke up in his own bed, comfortable and warm, the pale light of morning streaming through the window in gentle stripes through the gaps in the blinds.

He was confused. Hadn't there been a spaceship come crashing into his backyard last night? Maybe he had dreamt it. As he moved he found a heavy arm wrapped around him. Jack.

'I thought you were working at the hub last night?' he asked when the arm gripped him tighter.

'Came home early,' Jack murmured, still sounding sleepy.

Ianto didn't think on it any further. The rest of the day passed by uneventfully, as did the weeks and months that followed. They lived and loved, worked and drank coffee, fought aliens, and saved the world. Jack would die and come back. Sometimes Ianto would die and come back. No one ever questioned how that was possible, it just was, and always had been as far as they could remember. They were the impossible couple. Both immortal and undying.

Years passed by, and Torchwood carried on with new team members, new adventures and new perils, but always Jack and Ianto stood together at the helm. Finally one day, a dangerous entity tried to come through the rift and destroy the world. They set off a device that caused the rift to implode on itself, sealing it off, and stopping the creature forever.

With no rift, Torchwood's functions became research only. The Institute no longer needed them to carry on its duties, and so they chose to say goodbye to their friends and family and take to the stars.

There were so many incredible places to go and things to see, that they were glad of their immortality to have the chance to see it all. Unbeknownst to Ianto, the machine was using all of the memories of its previous donors to generate the infinite number of places for them to experience.

Hundreds of years flew by in a flash of memory. They raised a family dozens of times over, in between their travels and adventures, their descendants scattering across all of time and space, but always loved and cared for, no matter how young or old or distant.

All through the millenia they stayed close by each other's side, loving, fighting, but always coming back to one another, and never growing tired of each other's company.

Hundreds of thousands of years ticked by, maybe even millions, for it was hard to tell after so long, but eventually even immortals began to age and grey. Perhaps it was the magic wearing off, perhaps time itself had become jealous of their infinite lifelines, or perhaps it was just a mutual desire. As if by some unspoken agreement they had chosen a moment in time when they felt they'd lived long enough and were ready to move on. In much the same way as Ianto's memories had begun, they were lying together at the end, finally departing the world, and assured that if there were a life beyond this one, that they would find each other again.

Ianto awoke on his back, in a dark room with a soft yellow glow. His head felt a bit fuzzy. He couldn't remember how long he'd been here or what he'd been doing. In the back of his mind, it felt like he'd been here forever, but then his mind cleared and he remembered the spaceship in his yard, and the aliens that asked him to help them refuel their ship. He pushed himself up off the platform and out of the room. He was surprised not only to find the two aliens there, but also Gwen and Jack, both with looks of slight concern and now relief. He checked his watch, and true to their word, only an hour had passed. Jack and Gwen had arrived whilst he'd been inside.

'Er, hello,' he greeted them sheepishly.

'Are you okay?' Jack asked, seeming worried.

'Fine, I think.' He turned his attention to Artol. 'Did it work?'

'Intzi?' Artol asked the other egg head, who was consulting some displays on the side panel of the vessel.

'We're at full power, sir.'

'Thank you. Thank you so much,' Artol beamed. He tried to reach up to shake Ianto's hand, but his short arm meant that it was Ianto who had to bow low to reach it.

Jack had sidled over to Ianto and wrapped an arm around his waist. 'Saving the world without us now, are you?'

Ianto blushed. 'Just doing my bit, sir.'

'We are very grateful for your contribution. It proved much stronger than we anticipated. The people of your world have much hope.'

Jack grinned, always amazed by the power of positive thinking.

'We wish you safe travels and long journeys,' Jack replied, using a formal greeting that was universally accepted as high praise.

After a brief interlude, Intzi had made the necessary repairs, and the ship slowly rose up, before rocketing away into the night sky.

Jack thrust his hands in his pockets and considered his two teammates, standing in the chilly air watching in awe as the ship disappeared amongst the stars.

'So, Artol was explaining what it was you agreed to do for them. That must have been something else.'

'I couldn't say,' he admitted. 'I don't remember any if it.'

'Still, must've been one hell of a wish to generate that kind of energy. What did you wish for?'

'You can't ask him that, Jack!' Gwen cried. 'If you tell someone, then it won't come true.'

Jack just laughed and wrapped an arm around each of their shoulders, guiding them back inside the house. 'You people and your superstitions! I'll bet you anything it was about me.'

'You wish, Jack,' replied Ianto. 'You wish.'