Fandom: Torchwood

Characters: Ianto

Author: m_findlow

Rating: PG

Length: 2,418 words

Content notes: Spoilers for Coe Ep 1

Author notes: Written for Challenge 224 - Hunt

Summary: Ianto seeks refuge the only place he knows.



It felt like there were eyes everywhere. Each time he slipped around another street corner he was sure this would be the last. Was it the sound of footsteps he could hear or only the pounding of blood in his own ears? He couldn't afford to let his thoughts wander, even for a second. If he did, that little red dot would find him and his brains would be blasted all over the pavement before he'd even realised what had happened.

What had happened? Why had the government suddenly turned on them? It was one thing to not want them involved, but to try and take them out altogether was bordering on unthinkable.

He wondered if Gwen and Rhys had gotten away, and where. They'd been trying to make rendezvous plans when she slammed the phone down on him. They were close, forcing Gwen to run. Did she make it out? Was she still alive, or was he now on his own? He had no way of knowing.

They should have all been dead, by rights. None of them were supposed to discover the bomb than had been planted inside Jack. Clever, letting their murderous plan walk right in through their front door. They'd killed Jack and put it inside him. He had no idea. Ianto swallowed hard and leant back heavily against the brickwork. No, he couldn't think about Jack. He'd already spent hours watching on from afar as the special forces teams rolled in to the scene of the crater, where once the hub had proudly sat under that gleaming water tower, pulling away debris. He'd wanted them to find Jack and pull him out, assured that he was okay, even if that meant he might be captured. Instead all he saw was a mangled and burnt piece of forearm and a few other unrecognisable pieces, recovered and shipped away. Jack couldn't die, yet the evidence suggested otherwise. Tears burned behind his eyelids as he squeezed them tightly shut. He had to keep moving. They weren't ever going to stop hunting him down, and now in broad daylight he'd made their job that much easier.

He'd hoped that maybe staying in crowded spaces might afford him some protection, at least from sniper bullets that had haunted him in his escape from the wreckage of the hub. He could have melded into the mass of shoppers on St Mary Street. Just as easily though he might find himself suddenly surrounded on both sides by armed police, carrying him quietly and efficiently away, where he could be dealt with later.

The other problem of being in such a public place was the sheer number of security cameras, positioned on street corners, outside shopfronts and inside shops as well. With facial recognition software they could pinpoint him in no time. He needed somewhere to hide, just until he could figure out his next move. His house would be watched, as would the airport, every bus terminal, train station and taxi service. They'd be keeping tab on anyone and everyone who knew him, which basically meant his sister's neighborhood. There was nowhere they wouldn't be watching and waiting for him to make an escape. It wasn't just about his own safety, but this thing with the kids wasn't going away either. We are coming. Tomorrow. There was only one place he could think of that he could go.

He weaved around the city streets, using the map in his head to avoid high traffic areas where cameras would abound, choosing side streets and restricted access laneways, slipping between buildings, down obscenely narrow spaces lined with bins and homeless folk. Finally he reached the end of an alley that appeared to just stop as the cement back wall of a commercial building jutted up at its end. He turned left and found the imposing metal door tucked away in the far corner. If you didn't know what you were looking for, you probably wouldn't have noticed it. Perhaps it had some kind of perception filter qualities that kept it hidden from prying eyes. He'd only been here twice, and both times with Jack taking the lead. He only hoped that he wasn't making a huge mistake coming here now. He scanned the alley once more, searching out for any eyes, before rapping hard on the door which clanged loudly.

He waited a long time before there was any movement, until finally a small hatch slid open at eye level.

'Who're you?'

'Torchwood,' he replied.

'You're not him,' came the gruff reply. By "him" they meant Jack.

'I'm here on his behalf,' Ianto lied. 'You know the drill.' He only hoped he knew the drill enough to bluff his way inside.

He could see the eyes behind the hatch squinting hard at him, as if trying to decide whether he was serious. Perhaps it was the angry gash on his face that made him look scarier than he was - one he hadn't noticed until hours later when finally the adrenaline wore off and the stinging started up - but whatever the reason, the hatch slammed shut and the door heaved slowly open.

'Thank you,' he said, stepping inside. At least for a few brief seconds, he was safe.

Inside the place was smokey, though it was cannabis he could smell rather than tobacco. It had always irritated his sensibilities - the smell, the squalor, the undertones of criminal intent. It was part bar, part brothel, part backpacker's hostel, but all unappealing.

That this place even existed was less good planning than it was necessity. Whilst Torchwood did its best to send stranded aliens back where they'd come from, there were always some that could never go back home for one reason or another. As much as possible, they did their best to settle stranded beings into something as close to their normal lives as they could. For some who were able to shift their appearance, that was easy, finding them a place to live in the city, and even a job. For others, it was an out of the way cottage in the valleys, or whatever their usual abode, underground, underwater, in a tree. Torchwood was nothing if not accommodating to the seemingly endless possibilities of alien life.

Then there were the aliens that chose to be here - the asylum seekers. Only not all of them were here seeking refuge from war, political imprisonment or racial hatred. Some were here to avoid arrest and prosecution.

It turned out there was a snag in Unified Conglomerate law that allowed criminals to claim asylum on planets where the Shadow Proclamation had no official judiciary presence. In short, that meant primitive worlds still afforded the general protection of Conglomerate laws - Level Five worlds and lower, of which Earth was one. In short, if you made it here under your own steam, no one could force you out to face justice elsewhere.

Jack had never truly liked the idea of letting them stay here, but without any legal backing to be able to get rid of them, it was easier to play nice and keep a careful watch on them instead. Most weren't stupid enough to re-offend the same crimes here on Earth, which would nullify their rights to asylum, but it never paid to be too careful. Torchwood wouldn't go out of their way to re-establish them here, but they still provided a roof over their heads and some basics to help them along. It was like the intergalactic embassy that catered for all kinds. As a result, Ianto had come to call the place Snowden House.

Jack had told him to keep an eye on police reports six e making him aware of its existence. Anything he could do to remove some of these undesirables from his city would be welcome, and all they had to do was be caught doing the wrong thing in order to earn themselves an extradition. They didn't have to like Jack, but they respected him and his generosity in overlooking petty crimes. There was a definite line, and so long as you didn't cross it, you were fine. Perhaps it hearkened back to Jack's own days as a bit of a conman. There was an understanding that you had to make a living, just so long as no one got hurt along the way.

The two times he'd come here with Jack had been to make sure everyone who lived at Snowden House was toeing to the line, which including more than a few posed questions about crimes that had been reported to Cardiff Metropolitan police in the past few months. Ianto provided factual support, having memorised the police reports in detail, but otherwise had remained quiet throughout the exchanges. Walking into a criminal den was not his idea of fun. It was however off the official Torchwood books. They were the only ones who knew this place existed, which now made it was his only option.

Ianto didn't have to wait long until he spotted the one alien he needed to speak to.

'Who'd d'you want to interrogate this time?' their self appointed leader asked him. The alien was portly and hunched over, steel grey skin that crumpled into a dozen chins over his face and with a long pointed nose like ones Ianto had only seen in picture books of witches and goblins. In fact, a goblin always a very good way to describe him, Ianto thought. He didn't even attempt to address him by name. It had been hard enough for Jack to wrap his tongue around the alien syllables, and Jack was a master of languages. It was as far removed from the English and Welsh he was accustomed to speaking as anything. Luckily for him though, at least their leader knew English. If he'd had to converse in Galactic Standard, as was sometimes needed for some of the residents here, he'd have been lost.

'No one,' Ianto replied. If he could avoid most of them, that would be ideal. Without Jack here to back him up, he felt very much like an unwelcome intruder.

'Thought you musta been blown up,' the alien said. Ianto found it strange how he'd inherited a rough East London accent. 'Saw it on the telly. Big mess. Figured you thought it was one of us and come to drag em away.'

'It was the government,' Ianto said. He didn't have categorical proof of exactly who had issued the order, but the way they'd swarmed the scene in the morning left no doubt in his mind. It couldn't be a coincidence that they'd been taken out on the same day children everywhere had been possessed by something. Someone wanted them out of the game. 'I was hoping I could stay here for a bit.'

'Here? No way.'

'You saw what happened. They're trying to kill us. Wherever I try to go in this city I'll have a target on my back. I need somewhere to hide from them and figure this out.' And find Gwen and Rhys, he silently added. And Jack. The number plate he'd written on his hand was burning. Perhaps wherever they were taking Jack's... He didn't finish the thought. Wherever it was, they could have answers he needed. It was his only lead.

The alien leaned against the concrete wall. 'Why should I care if Torchwood gets iced? Make our lives a lot easier. No one coming around to rat us out to some Judoon patrol.'

Ianto was tired of playing nice. Someone wanted him dead and had already killed Jack. It really was true what they said: when you've got nothing, you've got nothing to lose.

'They're coming today, whoever they are,' he replied. 'If we're fucked, then so are you. You won't be able to stay hidden away here. I'm not asking you to fight or even help. I just need somewhere they can't find me until I can figure out my next step.'

'And that's it? That's all you want?'

'That's it.' A cup of tea and some toast was probably pushing the friendship. Right now he just needed an hour's sleep to clear his head and to not feel like he was seconds away from having a bullet in it. Everything was happening so quickly he didn't even have time to process it. Aliens, children, the government, a blank page order with his name on it.

The alien huffed but nodded his head ever so slightly. 'Down here, then.'

He was lead down a cramped and filthy hallway before the alien finally stopped at a doorway and opened it, revealing the squalid room inside. 'You can stay here. Don't come out and upset the others. They're not as generous as I am.'

'Thanks. Any chance you've got a laptop I could use?' He really needed to get a trace on that number plate. If for no other reason than to know where Jack has been taken. If he really was gone, at least he'd know where find the remains and given him a proper burial, assuming he survived beyond today to make that happen.

'This isn't a charity. Besides, we don't use them. Figured you'd only hack them and keep tabs on us that way.'

'Buy me one then. Here,' he said, handing over his credit card. One of them was surely an expert at forging signatures. He didn't care much if they were tracing his payments. It wouldn't be him making the purchase. 'Jack's been good to you over the years.' Even though you don't deserve it, he thought. He didn't like the idea of intergalactic criminals coming to hide out in his home town. It felt dirty, like they were intentionally harboring them, even though according to the law, they weren't actually doing anything wrong.

'Not that good. You've got a space to work. That's it. Everything else is your problem.' The door shut behind him and he was left on his own in the filthy room with nothing more than a rotting mattress and a small desk.

Ianto sighed. He should have felt relief at being hidden from eyes that wanted him dead. Instead he felt alone with no way of knowing if the others had gotten out alive. He might be all that was left of Torchwood for all he knew. That meant that for now, everything really was his problem. They'd never stop hunting him if he didn't figure out was was happening and how to stop it.