Disclaimer: I have the DVDs. Does that count? No? Dammit. BtVS was created by Joss Whedon and Torchwood by Russell T Davies.Note:
This story is the final installment in the Moving On And Coming Back series. Thank you to all of you who have waited for this story to be posted. Time permitting, I'll be adding a chapter a week, hopefully each Thursday.Note 2:
going to be multiple pairings throughout the fic, but I'll add them as the fic progresses so you all have a little surprise.IMPORTANT! PLEASE READ!:
There will be chapters in this fic which are FR-21. The chapter's rating will be altered to the appropriate level when they come.Pairings This Chapter:
Story 3: Damaged Souls
“I’m fine, Willow.”
“You were impaled!”
“Dude, just listen to her. She won’t quit until you do. We’ve unloaded everything anyway.”
Ianto shook his head, chuckling as he dropped into a small spot of the couch that wasn’t covered in the few boxes they had.
They’d been unpacking for the last few hours, much to Willow’s annoyance. It hadn’t been anything major, mostly clothes and the odd knickknack they’d picked up when they were still in Cleveland, but Willow had been overprotective since Sunnydale. So he’d almost gotten himself killed during the battle with the First. No big. All he’d done was help Willow with the spell to call the Slayers and then go off to the battle itself…okay, so he’d drained himself a bit during the spell, but he’d had enough of standing back and letting others fight when he was in Torchwood.
He wasn’t a master witch by any means. He was strong, sure, but he’d only just started learning when he got to Sunnydale, so he’d just left the magic up to Willow. She’d needed his help in the battle, though. She hadn’t felt secure enough to try the spell on her own.
Ianto shuddered, remembering the shock he’d felt go through his body when he did the spell. God, what a rush. It had felt like nothing he’d felt before, the surge that went through him while he and Willow were engulfed in a blinding light.
He shook his head, clearing his head of the image, shaking away the feeling as magic began to spark at his fingers. “At least hand me my laptop, Xan,” he said, reaching out a hand for the Dell he’d hidden on the bus before the battle began.
Xander rolled his eyes, mumbling something about living with computer geeks as he handed over the laptop.
Ianto rolled his eyes, waiting for the computer to turn on so he could check his e-mail. He hadn’t talked to Owen, Gwen, or Tosh in over a week. Getting ready for the battle had become so hectic that he’d barely had a spare moment to sleep, let alone keep in touch with friends a continent away. His cell phone had barely survived the battle, the screen was smashed now (not that it really mattered since it was still on Cardiff time), but he hadn’t been able to get a new one without getting one with a number that would tell Owen he was back in Cardiff. He wasn’t ready for that yet.
Great. Ianto sighed, clicking the oldest one.
To: Ianto Jones
From: Toshiko Sato
May 15, 2008
We fixed everything. Don’t worry. Gwen and Owen are officially back in their own bodies. Gwen’s ecstatic that she doesn’t have to be a guy anymore. I think Owen is a little disappointed that he can’t torture Gwen anymore with the threat of showing up dressed like one of his bar pulls. Though, he’s probably just as happy as Gwen in the aspect that he doesn’t have to deal with Rhys trying to bring up the kids topic.
I can’t decide if the image of Owen pregnant is funny or horrifying.
Did Gwen tell you her news yet? If she hasn’t, I won’t say. She’s been bouncing around the Hub since she came in this morning. I don’t want to kill her happy.
E-mail me back when you get this, okay? You’re responses have been decreasing and they’re barely a paragraph. You’re beginning to worry me. I need to know you’re okay. I worry about you being so far away.
Ianto’s eyes softened. He hadn’t thought she’d worry that much about a few short e-mails.
To: Ianto Jones
From: Gwen Cooper
Subject: OMG! IANTO!
May 15, 2008
IANTO! I’M GETTING MARRIED! RHYS PROPOSED!!!!! CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?!?!?!?!?!
YOU HAVE TO COME! PLEASE! I WILL BEG! DO NOT DOUBT A FUTURE BRIDE! WE GET WHAT WE WANT AND I WANT YOU AT MY WEDDING!!
I’M GETTING MARRIED!!!!!
Ianto blinked. Wow. Attack of the CAPs lock. She deserved it, though. She’d gone through so much since joining Torchwood. Gwen deserved to be happy.
To: Ianto Jones
From: Toshiko Sato
May 20, 2008
Ianto? Come on. This isn’t funny. You know how I worry. My CCTV cameras don’t reach the States. I can’t peek in to make sure you’re okay. I need you to reply. Please. Owen’s getting snappy. He’s been calling your phone for the last hour. You know what it’s like when Owen of all people begins to worry.
Please e-mail me back. Or call Owen.
Please, Ianto. You’re starting to scare me. It never takes you this long to reply.
Ianto closed his eyes, his mind going back to the twentieth. He’d been in the high school when she wrote that. He’d been fighting for the world and she had no idea.
To: Ianto Jones
From: Gwen Cooper
Subject: Where are you?
May 21, 2008
You’re really starting to scare us, Yan. You’ve always gotten back to us in at least a day. It’s been six and nothing. Owen is going out of his mind, checking his phone every five seconds. Tosh is trying to hack into any camera she can in the States trying to find you.
Please call us, cariad.
Ianto sighed, sending Gwen’s last message to her folder. “Time to face the music,” he mumbled, dialing the number to his phone so he could check his messages. He paused a second before typing in his code and pressing 1 to play.
“Thirty new messages,” the automated voice toned. Ianto was almost sure he heard it laugh at him.
“May fifteenth, 3:28 PM.”
“That message sucks,” Owen’s voice said, “There’s no reason for you to do a translation in Welsh. Who the hell do you talk to that needs you to speak in Welsh?” He snorted. “Damn Welsh.” Ianto could hear Gwen shout out an indignant hey!
“Call me back.”
“May fifteenth 8:54 PM.”
“I told you to call me back,” Owen sing-songed, laughing a second later as he lowered the phone, flirting with whoever he was near before bringing the phone back up to his ear, “Call me tomorrow. I’ll be unavailable tonight.”
“May sixteenth 1:48 PM.”
“Dude, seriously. What did you do? Finally hook up with someone? Call me back.”
The messages after that grew more often, Owen’s voice changing from annoyed to worried by the tenth message.
“May twenty-fifth 9:15 AM.”
“Ianto fucking Jones, this isn’t funny anymore. Call me back.”
“May twenty-fifth 9:21 AM.”
“Call me the fuck back, Ianto.”
“May twenty-fifth 9:23 AM.”
“End of messages.”
Ianto closed his eyes as he snapped his phone shut, jumping when the phone rang a second later. Damn it, Owen. He groaned, closing his eyes again as he opened it, bringing it to his ear. “Hi, Owen.”
“Don’t fucking ‘hi’ me!” Owen snapped, “Where the fuck
have you been?!”
“Don’t give me fucking excuses!”
“NO!” Owen was silent for a minute before exhaling slowly. “Where the hell were you?” he asked, his voice softer this time.
“Moving.” That was as close to the truth as he could get.
“It doesn’t take ten days to fucking move!” And the yelling returns.
“Things got crazy. My phone got packed by mistake and I didn’t find it until now,” he lied.
“And your laptop? The girls have been going crazy!” Ianto bit his lip against the unspoken addition of ‘so were me and Jack’.
“And no one else has a computer?!”
Ianto sighed. “We just finally got here this morning.” At least that wasn’t a lie. They had just gotten there a couple hours ago. There hadn’t been much to unpack, most of their stuff lost when Sunnydale became a crater. Giles had called in a couple favors to get the former dance hall furnished with the basic furniture and got them a few gold cards. Willow had been the one that had done the shopping, insisting that Xander wasn’t allowed to shop for himself and Ianto was too injured.
So he’d gotten stabbed. Big deal. It wasn’t like he’d died.
Though, maybe he had to admit that it probably wasn’t the smartest idea to run off into battle after almost completely draining himself. He’d lived at least…though he wasn’t sure how.
Ianto jumped, wincing in pain as he jarred the still tender injury. Okay, so maybe he did need to rest a bit. “I’m here.” Not like he’d get any with Owen on the phone.
He heard the girls shriek on the other end of the phone.
Ianto could swear he heard Owen let out what could only be described as an evil chuckle as he heard the rustle of the phone being grabbed.
“WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?!” Gwen shouted. Ianto didn’t get a chance to reply as Tosh grabbed the phone, screaming at him in Japanese.
“Tosh,” Ianto tried, the only result being Tosh’s voice going an octave higher, “Toshiko-” More screaming. “Toshiko, yamate
Tosh quieted, whether in shock of Ianto raising his voice or him knowing Japanese, Ianto wasn’t sure, but took the short silence when he could.
“Not when I’m through with him,” he heard Owen mutter, realizing belatedly that they’d put him on speaker phone.
“Are you okay?!”
“I’m fine, Gwen.”
Gwen sighed. “I’M GOING TO KILL YOU! DO YOU KNOW HOW WORRIED WE’VE BEEN?!” She went off in an angry stream of Welsh after that, speaking too fast for him to pick up. He hadn’t heard anyone speak that fast since his mam when he ran away one Christmas.
“I’m with Gwen,” Owen piped in after a couple minutes.
“You don’t even know what she’s saying!” Ianto cried.
“You disappeared and she’s yelling. I really doubt she’s singing ‘Happy Birthday’.”
“Owen, shut up!” Oh, thank God. The Welsh was over.
Now that the other end was silent, Ianto could hear the tap tap
of rigid fingernails hitting something.
Ianto forced back the wave of emotion he felt. He hated the man for leaving, but he’d never thought he’d ever hear Jack tapping out his nervous habit again. Jack had probably gnawed halfway through his bottom lip. He always did.
His eyes searched the room helplessly, falling on Xander as the other man emerged from across the room. “Help me,” he mouthed.
Xander looked at him clueless for a minute before catching on and taking a step back. “Ianto! Can you give me a hand with this!” he called, knocking over a stack of plastic cups and silverware.
“Guys, I have to go,” he lied, “I think Xander broke something.”
“You’re not going anywhere!” Owen shouted.
“I’ll call you back at noon your time.” Our time, Ianto silently added, flipping the phone shut before anyone could protest. He muttered a thank you
to Xander before turning to his left and hitting his head against a box filled with magic supplies Giles had sent.
“You okay?” Xander chuckled.
“Do me a favor?”
He hit his head again.
This was just going to get worse.