Parasitism 8/?

[missthingsplace]

Title: Parasitism
Author: missthingsplace
Parings/characters: Jack/Ianto, Gwen, Andy
Disclaimer: I don't own Torchwood or any of the characters ... unfortunately, just borrowing them for a while.
Summary: A simple lapse of judgement leaves one of the team battling for their life.
Warnings: Slash, angst, horror
Spoilers: Anything is fair game
Rating: NC17 for series

This is a sequel to 'Predation', the master List for this can be found here: http://missthingsplace.livejournal.com/324094.html

“Fuck!” Ianto exclaimed, throwing the scalpel he'd been using into the metal sink, the loud clunk it made echoing around the autopsy way and then yelled at the alien creature, now in a hundred or so pieces on the autopsy table. “what the hell have you done to him you little shit?”

“Ianto?”

Ianto looked up to see Jack peering down at him, his hand scrubbing over his face in an attempt to wake himself up properly.

“I've rerun all the tests again and taken Brad apart bit by bit but I still don't have any answer as to what it's ... infected you with!” Ianto exclaimed, this time picking up a pair of surgical scissors and flinging them in anger into the sink where the scalpel now resided. “I must have missed something but I can't work out what!”

“There's no point getting stressed over it,” Jack rationalised. “we'll find a way to get rid of it, whatever it is.”

“And just how is it now, the rash?” Ianto asked, throwing bits of alien flesh and organs in a black plastic bin bag, wiped down the surface of the autopsy table and then added the cloth and disposable gloves he was wearing to the bin bag.

“I think ... it maybe a little ... strange,” Jack uttered, staring at his hand and then sweeping his eyes slowly up his arm. “this can't be good.”

Ianto dumped the bin bag on the floor and ran up the stairs two at a time, grabbing Jack's hand before he could object and looked in horror at the state of it and Jack's arm.

“It's not a rash Jack, that's why I ran all those tests while you were asleep. It's not spreading, it's separating and moving,” Ianto said, his eyes fixed on the Captains limb. “whatever it is is under the skin, is not a reaction causing what looks like a rash, the heat and that needle sensations you're experiencing are what's making you itch.”

“Then Brad let me a gift when he bit me, but what?” Jack frowned.

“That's the problem, I couldn't find anything in Brad to give me any clues and believe me I looked in every inch, nook and cranny so I have idea what it is!” Ianto retorted. “Antibiotics and antihistamine haven't had any effect, what do we try now?”

“First we take a skin sample, see if that turns up anything and if not, we pull out the big guns,” Jack replied. “metaphorically speaking of course.”

“Such as?” Ianto asked, scared of where this was leading.

“Poison, bleach,” Jack suggested.

“Things that could kill you along with ... the ... parasite?” Ianto snarked.

“Parasite? Is that what you think it is?” Jack asked.

“Brad infected you with something, my guess is that it was it's some kind of parasite which now residing in your hand and arm and will grow inside you,” Ianto replied. “but getting back on track, things that could kill you?”

“I know you hate it when I die, I hate dying too but if it turns out to be the only way to stop them what choice do we have?” Jack asked him.

“Last resort Jack, very last,” Ianto warned him.

“Then we should take the skin sample and start there,” Jack replied. “we can think about our other options afterwards.”

“Fine, lets get it done,” Ianto said resignedly, leading the way back down to the autopsy bay and getting a sterile scalpel out of the drawer along with antiseptic wipes and a large plaster.

Jack settled on the autopsy table and held out his arm for Ianto, since losing Owen they had had to brush up on their meagre medical skills, a lot of which had been learnt from books and the internet.

“Do you want me to numb the area before I start?” Ianto asked the Captain.

“No, just do it,” Jack told him.

Carefully Ianto wiped one of the antiseptic wipes over the area he selected with the most raised bumps and then slowly and carefully set about removing a small piece of skin.

“Oh fuck!” Ianto exclaimed, lifting the scalpel and wiping away the small amount of blood. “Now that was something I couldn't never have foreseen.”

“What's wrong?” Jack asked adding jokingly. “Did you muck it up?”

“Nope, they ... moved!” Ianto replied, having seen the little round bumps scatter from the incision sight only to settle again a couple of inches away.

“Oh that's so not good!” Jack said, stating the obvious and bringing his arm closer to see for himself, there was now a ring of untainted flesh around Ianto's incision.

“It's like they knew,” Ianto said in complete amazement. “they just scattered while I made the incision.”

“But that's insane,” Jack frowned. “that would mean they are already able to at least sense what's happening in their surroundings.”

“Not good is a major understatement then,” Ianto grumbled, waving the scalpel in the air. “is there any point me doing this?”

“There's nothing to lose if we do, so do it,” Jack told him decisively.

Ianto nodded and extracted the small sample of Jack's skin, placing it in a Petri dish and closing the lid before cleaning up the small wound and sticking the plaster over it despite knowing it would be healed in a few hours.

“Are you going to kiss it all better?” Jack asked, trying to lighten the mood.

“How old are you Jack?” Ianto sighed, placing the scalpel in the sink with the other item to sterilise when they were finished.

“No-one is ever too old for a kiss to make it all better,” Jack pouted.

Ianto stepped between Jack's thighs, his own pressing against the cool metal of the autopsy table and kissed him tenderly followed by resting his head on the Captains.

“We will find a way to get rid of these things without you dying first,” Ianto insisted. “I promise.”

“If anyone can, you can,” Jack agreed. “we should get on with the skin test but first I need to be honest with you about something.”

“Tell me,” Ianto sighed, lifting his head from Jack's.

“It's beginning to hurt more, what felt like needle pricks now feels more intense, like they are burning hot,” Jack admitted. “it's becoming hard to cope with.”

“Why do you always feel like you should suffer?” Ianto asked, feeling a little angry with him. “No, don't answer that, but you are taking one of our industrial strength painkillers.”

“You're not going to be getting any arguments from me this time,” Jack told him. “It hurts so much I want to chop my arm off, hey, maybe that would work?”

“Another last resort Jack, maiming yourself is only just below killing yourself in my opinion and anyway, they might sense it, like the scalpel.” Ianto told him adamantly.

“You're right,” Jack conceded. “now where's that painkiller?”

Ianto fished the bottle out of the medicine cupboard and tipped one into his hand.

“Do you want some water?” Ianto asked.

 

“No, it's okay,” Jack told him, swallowing the pill dry and then getting of the autopsy table to assist Ianto with the tests on the skin sample.


TBC


A/N: Posting of this and my other AU maybe a little erratic this week as my reel_torchwood  bunnies have returned for and i need my contibution finished by the weekend so my beta can beta it before the deadline!
 

Comments

[iantosgal.livejournal.com]

Ooooo the mystery thickens!! I love how protective Ianto is! :D Can't wait for more! x

[missthingsplace.livejournal.com]

Thank you so much :D