Fandom: Torchwood 

Characters: Ianto, Owen, Jack

Author: m_findlow

Rating: PG 

Length:  3,134 words

Content notes: none. 

Author notes: Written for Challenge 377 - Trip 

Summary: Jack’s misadventures result in Owen and Ianto both taking an unexpected trip to find him. 


Owen hated the late night phone calls. Even more so when he could see from the caller ID that it was Ianto. Probably something unpleasant, Owen automatically assumed. Jack always made someone else deliver the bad news so that he wasn’t on the receiving end of his team's ire at having to haul their arses into the hub when they should have been sleeping or having some semblance of a life.

‘What now?’ he grumbled into the phone, trying to simultaneously tug on the sock that had been left on the floor by the bed in his haste to undress and sleep. His hand wasn’t coordinated enough yet to maange in, succeeding only in it catching his big toe before slingshotting itself under the bed in protest. ‘Balls,’ he muttered. ‘No, not you,’ he said before Ianto could get on his high horse.

‘Jack’s gone missing,’ Ianto said without preamble. It was the kind of thing you wouldn't bother to call someone about, like telling them you were out of bread or the newspaper didn’t arrive when it should have.

‘So stick his face on the side of a milk carton and let me go back to bed.’

‘Maybe if you’d picked up your phone the first three times I tried calling you.’ There was an acerbic tone to Ianto's voice as Owen studied the screen, realising he’d slept through the buzzing until now.

‘I was tired, okay? Can't blame a guy for putting his phone on vibrate to get some rest.’

‘Must be nice for some. Now, are you coming to help me find him or not? There is either something medically wrong with him, or it's alien. Either way, I think I'm going to need help.’

Owen knelt on the floor and retrieved his wayward sock from under the bed. ‘Yeah, yeah, alright.’ He had no idea why Ianto was making such a fuss or what the problem seemed to be but he knew better than to argue with him when he was in a mood like this. It would only earn him a week on decaf if he didn’t.



It was late so Owen made good time to the hub on account of the severe lack of nighttime traffic. Ianto was waiting for him in the central hub, a worried look on his face as he sat at Tosh's desk and scanned all six computer monitors with a judicious eye.

‘You're not dressed,’ Owen observed, making sure he remembered the moment when he’d first spied Ianto sporting batman pyjamas and making sure that he would get good mileage out of taunting him about it in the weeks and months to come.

‘Sorry, I didn't realise I needed to change into a suit for this.’

Owen pointed at the computer screens. ‘This is you looking for him?’

‘I've got every security camera running a facial recognition scan for him in the event he pops up on one, but so far nothing. It only confirms what I already suspected. He’s lying low in the archives, away from cameras or anything else we might use to find him. That’s where he was headed when I lost him.’

Owen parked himself in Tosh's chair and swung idly around on it. ‘So exactly what happened that's made you think Jack’s just taken off to go play hide and seek?’

‘I don’t think he’s taken off. I know it for a fact,’ Ianto replied with no amount of frustration in his voice that Owen would disbelieve him for even a second. ‘We were in bed. We'd only been asleep for about an hour and then I woke up when he started trying to twist us both into knots under the sheet. He was totally fine and then he just started freaking out.’

‘By freaking out you mean…?’

‘Disoriented. Panicked. He just leapt out of bed and started running off. I was yelling after him but he just ignored me.’

‘And you lost him? How does a man lose a guy in no clothes?’

‘He’s not lost as such. Like I said, he's' down in the archives…somewhere.’

‘Life signs?’

Owen received an annoyed huff for his troubles. ‘You know that stuff doesn't work properly down there. Too much alien tech causing interference. You either get a display lit up like a christmas tree or total blackout. Nothing Tosh has tried so far has worked when we’ve tested it.’

‘Almost like he knew you wouldn't be able to find him down there.’

‘I doubt we can give him that kind of credit given the state he seemed to be in.’

‘Well, it doesn't help us now, does it?’

‘Look, would you just help me find him? He’s clearly not himself and right now I can't tell you why or how.’

Owen’s doctor instincts began to kick in at the statement. ‘What about you? Do you feel okay?’

‘Does any part of the conversation we've had so far sound totally unreasonable to you? No, wait, don't answer that. I’m fine. It’s Jack we should be worried about. You know him as well as I do. He doesn't just flip out like that. Fly into a rage, have a tantrum, sulk… absolutely. This was absolutely not Jack.’ Ianto pulled up a few seconds of footage saved from one of the gantry cameras just outside Jack's office, showing Owen the moment Jack dashed out in a panic. The body language was just as Ianto described it - not like Jack at all.

‘He was with us all afternoon,’ Owen said. ‘So we know he didn't tinker with anything alien.’ If anything, Tosh’s presentation on crystal mechanics and their applications had dragged on for far too long, leaving them all desperate to get out of there, even those with infinite amounts of patience and good manners, which didn't include himself.

‘Exactly,’ Ianto agreed. ‘There's nothing I can think of that could have suddenly caused this change in behaviour, unless it was something that's been inactive for days or even weeks and is only just now making itself known.’

‘Bloody hell, well that could be just about anything.’

Inato pulled out Tosh's desk drawer and extracted a second flashlight to match the one he already had readied on the desk. ‘So, let's just find him first and figure it out from there.’



Owen wasn’t anticipating it being an easy task to find Jack, but perhaps even he’d underestimated just how vast the archives were, and how much of it was so dark that there could be anything hiding down there.

‘Jack!’ Ianto kept on calling out at regular intervals, hoping beyond hope that their fearless leader might just be playing a terrible prank on them, or otherwise have come to his senses and make himself known.

Owen was less hopeful, keeping his eyes peeled as they wandered in what he could only assume was a logical and systematic way around the long shelves and piles of junk that wound their way in endless variety around the place. Small wonder they could never find anything down here, even with Ianto’s filing system. ‘This is hopeless,’ Owen muttered. ‘We can't even be one hundred percent certain he's down here.’

‘Or he could be down here unconscious. Or worse,’ Ianto reminded him. ‘I just don't get it at all. What could suddenly cause him to act like this?’

‘Your guess is as good as mine,’ Owen replied.

‘Maybe we should call in the others. Help cover more ground.’

It was hard to disagree. They’d been wandering around for nearly an hour and were no closer to knowing if Jack was right under their noses or miles away. By now he could have snaked past them and made him getaway back up and out of the hub altogether, though Ianto insisted he’d know. Jack’s wrist strap if nothing else should have given him away with its unique signature anywhere outside of the main archives, but their scans down in the archives were producing predictably unpredictable results.

‘Jack, please for the love of god,’ Ianto cried out in frustration.

Owen knew they'd need to find Jack soon, as much for Jack's own wellbeing as it was for the fact that Ianto was slowly losing it. Owen wanted to say that Jack would be absolutely fine, and he would be - probably. He couldn't die at the very least so that had to count for something. It was the not knowing why he was suddenly acting out of character that troubled owen. He hoped that whatever it was it was neither contagious or spreading.

‘Where are you, you stupid git?’ Owen muttered under his breath, letting his torchlight pan across the mile high piles of old artefacts and rusted filing cabinets. This place was such a rabbit warren they'd soon be lost themselves if they weren't careful. He’d always hated coming down here. It was dark and creepy and it smelled a hundred years old which, to be fair, it was. That didn’t mean he had to like it, though.

Ianto sneezed suddenly and the sound made Owen jump. ‘Jesus,’ he grumbled. ‘You trying to scare me to death or something?’

‘Sorry,’ Ianto said, patting himself down looking for a handkerchief or a tissue and realising he had none, lest any pockets in which to keep one, forced to wipe it on his sleeve before another one caught Owen equally off guard. ‘It’s the dust down here,’ he explained.

‘No shit, Sherlock,’ Owen replied, watching as they kicked up more of it from the floor as they moved - Owen in his ratty trainers and Ianto in what could only be described as fluffy black and questionably unmanly slippers. ‘Lucky you don't have to spend much time down here.’

‘Har har.’ It sounded like Ianto was about to make some other dry witted comment before his own sneezing cut him off.

There was another sound that caught Owen's ear just in between Ianto’s sneezes which continued unabated. ‘Shh!’ Owen said.

‘Oh yes, I'll just stop on your command,’ he snapped, looking increasingly disgruntled about the handkerchief situation. ‘Wish you'd told me sooner and saved me all this bother.’

‘Shh!’ Owen hissed again. ‘You hear that?’ Owen could swear he heard the faintest sounds of whimpering. ‘Jack?’ he called out quietly so as not to startle anyone.

‘Mum?’ came the faint shaky reply.

Twin beams of torchlight searched for the direction of the sound but there was still no visible sign of Jack despite Owen's ears telling him otherwise. ‘Jack?’

‘Mum, is that you?’ Jack's voice was a little bit louder this time, but still strangely slow and uncertain.

‘Jesus,’ Owen muttered. He really was delusional. ‘It's me. Owen,’ he replied. He paused and looked at Ianto who seemed half relieved and half worried, before debating internally whether to announce he was here as well. In the end Owen figured Jack would have run by now if Ianto was the reason he’d scarpered in the first place. ‘Ianto’s here too. Where are you?’

Jack didn't reply, but his whimpering sounds carried across the darkness until Owen’s torchlight landed on a pale bare foot, peeping out from behind a large crate where Jack was crouched and hiding in its shadow. But for the sounds he was making they could have completely walked by him without seeing him.
Owen set his torch down on the ground and slowly moved towards Jack, keeping his body low to the ground and unthreatening. There was Jack, huddled in a ball in his t-shirt and boxers.

Owen’s torch momentarily swung round to face his teammate. ‘Thought you said he was naked.’

‘No, you just assumed that.’ Ianto's head shook in disbelief. ‘Did you really think that in the middle of winter we'd be sleeping without clothes on?’

Owen cocked an eyebrow at him and Ianto gave a despairing roll of his eyes. ‘Yeah, fine so sometimes we don’t. How often do you get dressed after-’

‘Don't need the mental image,’ Owen said, cutting him off. ‘Not important right now.’ Or ever, he probably should have said.

Jack’s eyes were glazed for a moment as he stared at Owen’s outline, face barely illuminated by the torchlight. ‘Owen?’ he finally said, as if releasing who he was.

Owen gave him a quick visual inspection before reaching out to put hand on his shoulder, hoping the touch might bring him back to the present. He seemed physically okay, but mentally was another matter altogether. ‘You okay?’

‘I… I was…’ His lower lip began to quiver and tears welled up in his eyes until they spilled over onto his cheeks in fat drops.

‘It’s alright now, mate,’ Owen said, pulling his boss into a reluctant hug. ‘We’re here’. Jack curled against Owen’s side and began sobbing into his sleeve. Owen frowned at Ianto who looked put out that Owen was the one he was pawing at for comfort, but didn’t say so in as many words. His disgruntled expression was enough for Owen, who would have gladly palmed Jack off onto his boyfriend if he thought he wouldn’t freak out again. Instead he just clung to Owen and there was no rationale as to what he was so upset about or why. At least he hadn’t tried to run off on them again, which at least gave Owen the opportunity to start figuring out what was wrong.

Owen waited until Jack had the unctrollanbel sobs out of his system before letting go and pulling back. ‘Let's get you back upstairs and get you warm. How's that for a start?’

Jack nodded feebly, still not all there as far as Owen was concerned. He was more like a frightened child than a fully grown adult having a moment.



Jack slowly became more sensible as they made the slow climb back up to the main hub. Within seconds of reaching Owen’s medical bay, Ianto was there fussing over Jack just like he always did, bringing him a blanket and his dressing gown and another pair of matching ugly fluffy slippers and then muttering something about hot chocolate before Owen could tell him Jack was to have nothing by mouth until they'd gotten to the bottom of why he’d flipped out in the first place. The only concession for Owen was that Jack was now so tightly wrapped up that getting away in a hurry would be a real challenge.

‘Stop loitering and make yourself useful,’ Owen barked at Ianto as he hovered near Jack, trying to get close enough to fuss some more. ‘Just because I said he can’t have anything doesn’t mean you can’t fetch me a coffee. And biscuits.’

‘I’ll have biscuits, too,’ Jack said, sounding much more like his old self.

‘No, you bloody wont,’ Owen snapped. ‘Not until you explain yourself. Do you or do you now have any recollection of getting out of bed in the middle of the night and running to hide in the archives?’

‘Um… yes?’

‘Wanna tell us why?’

Jack paused for a beat as he considered how to answer the question. He certainly didn't look to Owen like someone who had lost their marbles, though experience had also taught him that this kind of thing could be fleeting or deceptive in its insidiousness. ‘I just woke up and there was this horrible monster trying to attack me.’

‘If by horrible monster you mean the bedsheets, or me…’ came Ianto’s disparaging remark from somewhere nearby.

Owen ignored it and focused on his patient.’ Bad dream? That’s all ths was?’

‘No, it wast a dream. It was real. I could hear its hissing breath, smell its foul stench. It was chasing me. I had to get away. It was coming to take me away.’ Jack shuddered slightly at the memory.

‘I was the one chasing you, you idiot,’ Ianto snarked, reluctantly carrying a tray down the medical bay steps laden with more mugs and biscuits than Owen had authorised. ‘And only because you were going all crazy. I was trying to stop you. Or at least stop you from hurting yourself.’

‘You genuinely didn't realise it was Ianto?’

Jack shook his head. ‘You don’t know what it was like. It was…’ he shuddered again. ‘The worst creatures imaginable. They came before, back on Boeshane. They took the people. Tortured them. Killed them. It was like I was back there, twelve years old again, running for our lives.’

‘Well, that would explain why you were calling for your mum,’ Owen said, to which Jack bowed his head either in shame or embarrassment. ‘None of it was real.’

Ianto offered Jack a mug of hot chocolate despite Owen's instructions and Jack pulled his arms out from under the blanket to cup it between his hands, staring down into its depths rather than drink it. ‘It felt real.’

‘You’re okay now?’

‘I think so.’

Owen folded his arms as he considered Jack. ‘Wanna tell us what you took that made you go all bananas like someone on a bad drug trip? I mean, people don't just suddenly freak out and have night terrors like that. It's usually induced by something else.’

‘Especially when they've never had them before,’ Ianto added. ‘Tossing and turning in bed plenty of times, but never this.’

Jack sniffed and wiped his wrist across and underneath his nose. ‘I was starting to feel a little sniffle come on just after dinner so I grabbed those cold and flu capsules to try and knock it on the head. You know, a good night's sleep and all. I only took two.’

Owen raised an eyebrow in askance. Could it really be that simple? You’ve had them before though, right?’

Jack’s eyebrows knitted as he looked first at Ianto, then back at Owen. ‘No. Why?’

Owen groaned. ‘Because they have highly active agents in them. Side effects not unlike taking ketamine. That’s why they’re banned for sale in large quantities. Because drug users make methamphetamines from them. Hallucinations are definitely possible if you have a sensitivity to the active ingredients. It would explain the complete dissociation you experienced.

‘I got that from a few little cold and flu tablets?’ He chuckled. ‘Wow, they’d pay big money for that in the Vegas Galaxies. I smoked peyote once with an Apache shaman in Mexico. Didn’t do a thing except make me a bit giggly. Definitely didn’t commune with the great spirits. Although, that is not an experience I’d be keen to repeat anytime soon.’ He sniffed again and went to wipe his nose using his wrist again and this time Ianto was less sympathetic this time, thrusting a box of tissues in his direction.

‘Well, perhaps from now on you’ll stick to tea with lemon and honey. Or better yet, see a doctor. Not like you don’t have one on the payroll.’