Rating: PG-13 (for now)
Characters: Ianto, Jack, Rhiannon, Tosh, Owen, Gwen, Rhys, Martha, The Doctor (10th), Others
Spoilers: Starts beginning of TW season 1 and DW season 3
Summary: Ianto Jones has been searching for information about who he is his entire life. Canary Wharf gave him some answers and a whole new set of questions.
Disclaimer: BBC drew them, I just like to color outside their lines.
A/N: Many thanks to the fabulous sparking_off for beta-ing. Any mistakes left are all mine.
Things have been a little chaotic lately, so updates are going to be mainly on Fridays for a bit.
Reviews are always great! Thanks for reading!
The ground shook beneath him, and Ianto barely had time to duck before the next offense began. Crouching low behind a rusted truck, he made his way slowly to the edge of the broken tailgate, attempting to get a glimpse of his attackers. A boulder, followed by a shard of ice, a bolt of lightning, and a ball of fire, all sped past. He grinned, identifying their point of origin as a large rock across the quarry. Launching himself high into the air, he kept his gaze fixed on the rock. Holding his hands in front of him, he fired a series of energy blasts directly at it, effectively shattering the rock, and exposing his opponents. As they made ready to fire another volley, he quickly formed an energy barrier to surround them, trapping them where they stood.
“Nicely done,” said Rhys, gliding over to hover next to Ianto. They watched as one of the four trapped guardians attempted to break the barrier, only to receive a slight shock and be thrown back onto the ground. Rhys chuckled, and Ianto grinned before shaking his head. It had been too easy to beat them. They had been training for five days straight; they should not have been caught in such a simple trap.
“We need more time,” he said, looking to where several other teams of four were going about similar exercises with somewhat limited success. Rhys followed his gaze before pointing to a group at the far end of the quarry floor. They were some of the oldest guardians present, and had been among those born on Talfryn before the fall. Upon closer examination, they seemed to be working together, using their various talents to offset, and complement, rather than counter-act, each other.
“That’s what we need to see the rest of them doing,” observed Rhys. Ianto nodded his agreement.
“Care to do a little demonstration and show them how it’s done?” Rhys asked with a grin. Ianto chuckled and rolled his eyes.
“You just want an excuse to blow something up don’t you?” he joked.
Rhys’ smile grew wider and he patted the two-handed axe at his belt. “Meilyr here, has been itching for a little use. I see you brought your Ceri out to play too.” He gestured to the sword strapped to Ianto’s waist.
“I think we need to show them that the elements aren’t the only weapons usable in battle.” Ianto raised an eyebrow and didn’t respond. “Besides, Rhia has been doing amazingly well as a healer,” Rhys continued. “If we cock anything up, she has three days to make sure we’re good as new before Saturday.”
Ianto watched the teams a moment longer before sighing and turning to Rhys. “It would seem that we don’t have a choice,” he admitted. “They have to be ready. We have two weeks before the election, and the Doctor has the same sense of unease about the time streams as I do. If that means you and I get a scratch or two to drive the point home, so be it.”
Rhys grinned and punched Ianto in the arm. “That’s the spirit. Nothing like seeing your future leader take down the supposed ‘future saviour of the race’, to get them motivated,” he said with an evil grin.
Ianto looked to the trapped guardians below, and released the barrier with a flick of his wrist before turning back to Rhys. “You might be bigger and stronger than me, my Lord,” he said with a smirk. “But you certainly aren’t faster.” He winked at Rhys and flew at breakneck speed to the other side of the quarry.
“Cheeky bastard,” muttered Rhys before hollering to the battered guardians below him to meet at the far side of the field for a demonstration.
Aderyn Healing Center - Newton House - Two days later
“And just how the hell am I supposed to fix all of this before tomorrow?” asked Rhiannon, shaking her head as she looked over Ianto’s battered wing.
“You should see the other guy,” Ianto winced in reply.
“Shuff fup, ‘oo fosser!,” said Rhys from the bed beside him.
They had spent the better part of the last two days being targets for group battle tactics exercises, encouraging the others to work as a unit against them. They made a game out of it, seeing who could take down more units, and encouraging the guardians to come at them with increasing ferocity. That had all changed this afternoon, when Ianto and Rhys had slammed into each other at full force while flying through a fog bank. Ianto’s left wing was bent at an odd angle, and his fist was wrapped in gauze with two broken fingers. Rhys, on the other hand, had a black eye, a jagged cut down his arm, and a swollen lip from where his face had collided with Ianto’s fist.
Rhia gently ran her hand over Ianto’s wing and tried to straighten out the fragile bones, only to hear him yelp in pain. She sighed in frustration and turned to Elder Nerys, who was watching her work.
“It’s fractured. I can fix it, but I don’t know that I can make it strong enough for the gathering tomorrow. Can you possibly handle this while I take a look at his puffiness over there?” she asked, gesturing to Rhys.
“Normally I would have you try anyway, but given the circumstances, I’ll handle it,” answered Nerys, moving to place her long fingers along Ianto’s wing. She told him to hold still, and as he did, warmth flowed over his wing as the bones underneath knitted together. When she finished, he flexed it experimentally and was pleased to see that only a soft ache remained.
“It won’t be 100 percent until you rest it a day or two,” she said. “Try and keep the flying to a minimum, and no battle work for the next two days.” Patting his arm, she fixed his hand as well before stepping back once more. Ianto nodded and thanked her, before turning to watch Rhia work on Rhys.
His sister had come a long way. As her confidence in her abilities grew, so did the strength of her healing. As he watched, a faint blue light emanated from her hands as they moved over Rhys’s arm, stopping the bleeding and leaving his skin whole once more. Once that was done, she took a step back and squinted as she took in the black eye and puffy lip.
Rhys smiled lopsidedly at her, and she burst into laughter.
“Wot? Ifs nof fhaf baf, ifs if?” he asked, and Rhia started laughing again. Rhys’s eyes narrowed and he looked at Ianto.
“Hey don’t blame me, you’re the one who wanted to go full out,” said Ianto, raising his hands in mock surrender. “I’m not the one who looks like he locked lips with a puffer-fish.”
Rhys attempted a scowl, and this time Ianto started to laugh as Rhia attempted to undo some of the damage. “Hold still,” she said, placing her hands over his eye. “This shouldn’t take long, and then you can verbally abuse my brother with something other than a three-year-old’s lisp.”
Once the eye had healed, she gently took away the ice pack he had placed against his mouth and replaced it with her hand. Within moments, his face was back to normal, and he started moving his lips into a familiar grin.
“That should do it,” she said, taking her hands from his face and running them under some cold water to clean them. “I should tell you to keep the talking to a minimum so that the heal holds, but knowing you two, that’s too much to ask.”
“Too true,” said Rhys as he stood from the bed. “I’ll give you this round, Jones, but next time, I say we keep it on the ground and elements only,” he said, grabbing Ianto’s arm and hauling him from the bed. “Aleta and Den are waiting to toast our bravery in the lounge, best not to keep them waiting.”
“Behave yourselves, and no more fighting until Monday. Understood?” said Rhia, hands on her hips. “You two need to look presentable tomorrow, and I don’t want to see any more black eyes until after the gathering is over, got it?” The two of them nodded, looking like guilty schoolboys, before turning tail feathers and running from the room.
“The future of our race,” muttered Rhia with a huff. “Gods, Nerys, let’s hope that they can handle the responsibility.” The Elder chuckled in agreement as they cleaned the infirmary for the next patient.