Disclaimers: I do not own Torchwood or any of its characters. I am making no money from this. It is purely for entertainment
Summary: Ianto has a secret. Set during series one, after Cyberwoman.
Warnings: MPREG!! I am a HUGE fan of Mpreg. There are also hints of past child abuse.
Notes: Please remember that I am just another stupid American. Please forgive any spelling or grammatical errors as I must
rely solely on my own knowledge and my irritating spell-checker.
More Notes: Still set after 'Random Shoes,' but before 'Out of Time.'
Jack drove at breakneck speed, weaving in and out of traffic, crossing into the oncoming lanes when he needed to. Ianto's
voice echoed in his head. Weak, rasping pleas. He'd called to Jack for help and he was on his way. Jack only hoped he
wouldn't be too late.
He didn't know what was wrong. But the fact that Ianto had contacted him at all was proof enough that something had
happened. The possibilities were endless and Jack had to force himself not to imagine any of the horrors his mind could
conjure. He'd know what it was soon and he would fix it. Ianto would be fine. His baby would be fine. They would both be
He had already contacted the Hub. Owen was meeting him at Ianto's flat. The medic would probably arrive first. Although,
with the way Jack was driving anything was possible.
Tosh was back at the Hub, monitoring her computers. Her voice came out clear over the Comms. "Jack, police are on scene,
following up on an alleged assault."
"Great," Jack muttered, slamming his hand down on the steering wheel in frustration. The last thing they needed was the Cardiff
police getting in the way.
"Victim is male, early to mid twenties." Her voice faltered, her breath hitching. "Jack, what if it's-"
"He'll be okay," Jack said, cutting across her words. He tried to intone a sense of reassurance and calm. The truth was he
wasn't so calm himself. They had no idea what had happened. But he couldn't have Tosh falling apart. They all had to hold it
He took a turn faster than he probably should have and then he saw it. Police cars. An ambulance. Jack's heart dropped. Even
having known that the police would be at the scene of the crime, it was something else altogether to actually see them. It made
everything seem more real, more undeniable.
Driving up, he could see Owen's car parked haphazardly, half on the pavement, the back end stuck out in the street. The
driver's side door was wide open, but there was no sign of the medic.
Jack pulled up and parked alongside Owen's car. He got out and strode toward the police cars, shoving onlookers out of his
way and ducking beneath crime scene tape. He ignored the young PC that tried to stop him, hearing now the snarky voice of his
medic demanding to see the assault victim.
"Torchwood has nothing to do with this!" someone shouted back at him.
Jack came around the side of the ambulance to see Owen squaring off against an unfamiliar DI. Owen, still glaring at the man
before him, didn't so much as glance in Jack's direction as he said, "It's not Ianto. But he may know what happened to him.
And to Gwen. I found her car, boot open and stuffed with boxes, but no sign of either her or Ianto. His flat's empty. Looks
like he left in the middle of packing. Or was taken."
"That's all I need to hear," Jack said, then turned to the red-faced man. "Clear your men out of here. This is a Torchwood
"You have no right-" the DI started.
Jack sliced across his words, leveling the man with a cool glare. "Two of my agents are missing. You can either get out of our
way, or we will move you. And you won't like where you end up."
A huffed insult and a barrage of threats later and Owen was clamoring into the back of the ambulance. Jack stood at the doors,
watching his medic do a cursory check over. "Right, he's probably got a concussion. He took a hard knock." He placed his
fingers on the man's face, prying an eyelid open. "Can you hear me? Do you know what happened to you?" Owen asked him,
speaking slowly and clearly.
The man moaned and mumbled something that sounded like, "stupid cow." He swatted at Owen's hand.
"Come on," Owen urged. "What happened?"
"Told you," the young man's voice slurred, his eyes flickering. "Bloody old bitch clocked me."
Jack spun and ran full pelt into the apartment block. A deep suspicion was growing in the pit of his stomach. He bolted up the
stairs, passing the few remaining members of the Cardiff police as they trickled down and out of the building. As he ran, he
barked out orders to Tosh. "I need everything you can get on one of Ianto's neighbors. a Mrs. Koladka."
"The elderly woman Ianto talks about sometimes?" Tosh asked. "The one who makes food for him?"
"That's the one," he replied.
He faltered when he reached Ianto's floor. There was a bloodstain on the floor, a frying pan lying near to it. Jack was almost
positive that the blood wasn't Ianto's. It must belong to the man who had gotten hit over the head. Head wounds did bleed a
lot. There was a lingering doubt though. It could be Ianto's. He didn't want to consider the possibility of Ianto being hurt.
Pulling his Webley from the holster, Jack took cautious steps around the small puddle of blood. He could see that Ianto's door
was open, a sure sign that he hadn't left under his own free will. Ianto would never leave his door unlocked, let alone wide open
Jack didn't head for the door though. Instead, he stopped at the door just before it and knocked sharply. There was no
answer. Not that he expected one. If he was right, then Mrs. Koladka was long gone.
Altering his grip on the pistol, he raised his leg and kicked the door in. The door frame splintered as the door swung free. Jack
moved inside, his weapon held ready.
Owen jogged up behind him. "Got the story out of him," the doctor said. "Says he heard yelling out in the hall, opened his door
and found Ianto sliding down the wall. Then the old bat clocked him. His memories are a bit hazy, but that's the gist of it.
We're lucky he remembered anything at all."
The flat was empty. It was decorated in pale shades with comfortable-looking seating. There was a homey feel to it, something
welcoming in the decor, or perhaps that had been due to the person who had lived here. Pictures of what were most likely
family members dominated the walls. Smiling faces stared back at him as he wandered through the rooms. Jack gave the
details little attention and continued on. If he thought about it, he would get angry and getting angry could lead to mistakes. He
had to detach himself from this.
The layout of the flat was the same as Ianto's and he went down the short hall toward the bedroom. When he opened the door,
his mind boggled at what lay inside.
"Jesus, Jack! Who is this woman?" Owen asked, shock and horror tainting his voice.
A single, small bed, perfectly made, was pushed into one of the corners. There was a chest of drawers beside it. Those were
the only things that marked this as a bedroom. Filling the rest of the room was a vast array of computer equipment and
monitors, and a line of high-tech scanners that were mounted on metal stands. Each of the scanners faced what seemed to be a
bare expanse of wall. Jack knew better though. Behind that wall was Ianto's bedroom. Mrs. Koladka had been spying on him,
Owen came to the same conclusion. "Well, here's the source of your interference," he said, examining one of the scanners. It
was no wonder Owen's equipment hadn't worked properly when these devices were busy taking readings.
"Jack," came Tosh's voice. She sounded frantic. "We have a problem."
Jack's eye caught sight of a single framed picture set atop the chest of drawers. It was the only picture in this room. There had
to be something important about it. "What is it, Tosh?" he asked, stepping closer and picking up the photograph.
"She's Torchwood, Jack. Mrs. Halina Koladka worked for Torchwood One. She retired two years ago. Through her high rank
and multiple connections both inside and outside of Torchwood, she was allowed to retain her memories."
Jack barely heard her, his eyes roaming over the image in his hand. "Shit," Jack muttered, recognizing all of the faces. Staring
back at him was Doctor Jenson and his research team. Lingering on the edge of the small group was Ianto, smiling sheepishly
and looking distinctly uncomfortable. Beside him was a man just about his age, a beaming smile on his face. Mrs. Koladka was
somehow involved with the project. He needed to find the links, the loose thread that bound all of this together.
"We're coming back," Jack said, shoving the framed picture into one of his pockets. He'd figure it out later.
"There's something you need to know!" Tosh blurted.
Jack froze, glancing over at Owen who seemed just as surprised by the sharpness of her voice. "What is it, Tosh?"
"Halina Koladka married a man by the name of Thomas Colby. They had three children - one son and two daughters - before
"How is any of this important?" Owen growled.
Tosh ignored him.
Colby. That name sounded familiar. Why? It came to Jack just before Tosh could tell them and he dug the picture out of his
pocket again. He had read the files from Torchwood One so many times, the names of everyone involved in Ianto's condition.
And this name was perhaps one of the most important.
"David Colby was her grandson."
That explained a lot, but not everything. David Colby, the man with his arm casually thrown across Ianto's shoulders in the
photograph. Halina Koladka's grandson and the father of Ianto's unborn son. He was the one who had thought using alien tech
as a prank was a good idea.
"Well, fuck," Owen announced and Jack couldn't agree more.
Someone was stroking his face. A gentle, caring touch that drew him from the deep, dark abyss he had been plunged into. The
darkness surrounded him, pressing down on him. It was a struggle to work his way up through the levels to breach
consciousness. When he did, it was to a world of hazy confusion and throbbing aches.
Ianto dragged open uncooperative eyelids. Something was wrong. He knew that. But he was having trouble focusing; not only
his mind, but his vision. The room he was in was filled with vague shapes, a dark blur leaning over him.
"Ianto?" a voice, sounding muffled and far away, called to him.
He licked his lips. His mouth was so dry. "What?" he croaked weakly, fighting against the urge to give into the welcoming
darkness again. He had to know where he was. What was going on?
Slowly, the blurred shapes resolved themselves into clarity. The face looming over him came into focus.
Mrs. Koladka smiled down at him.
Ianto jerked back. He didn't want to be touched by this woman. What she had done; he remembered it and he didn't want to.
He had trusted her. The sense of betrayal settled in his chest like a stone.
He pushed himself up and away, then regretted it as his stomach clenched painfully. Ianto soon found himself leaning over, soft
hands on his shoulders stroking and soothing as he retched into a conveniently placed bin beside the bed he'd woken on. He
dropped back onto the bed, shaking and weak.
"I told them not to use sedatives," Mrs. Koladka said with a sigh. "Too dangerous with your condition." She reached out to
him, fingers boldly brushing over his stomach.
He looked down at her hand, eyes widening in fear as he realized that he saw the protruding mass of his belly. A quick shift of
his attention to his hand showed that the ring was gone from his finger. Also worrying, was the fact that his clothing had been
stripped away and replaced by a flimsy hospital gown.
He bit down on the nausea and pushed her hands away. The feel of her fingers made his skin crawl. "Why are you doing this to
She sat back and regarded him with a smile. "For your own good, of course. Someone needs to take care of you and I don't
trust that Captain Harkness or his little team to have your interests in mind. Who knows what sort of dangers they're putting
"They're helping me," Ianto replied.
Mrs. Koladka clucked her tongue sympathetically. "Oh, you really believe that, don't you?" She laughed, a bitter sound.
"They're Torchwood. You can't trust Torchwood and I should know. I used to work for them. Heartless bastards, the lot of
She cut him off. "I've been watching you for months now, dear. Ever since David told me. That grandson of mine, such a
good boy but a bit scatterbrained sometimes. Always the joker, trying to entertain. And so easily manipulated by his superiors."
She sighed, a sound of familiar resignation. "I had to monitor you, of course. How could I trust that Doctor Jenson? And then
Canary Wharf happened. My poor David. He was such a good boy."
Her hands trembled. She tried to smile again and failed. She fiddled with a loose bit of the bare mattress Ianto was resting on.
Ianto was still trying to get his mind around the fact that not only was she a former coworker at Torchwood One, she was also
the grandmother of his baby's biological father. It was a bit much. He felt dizzy and let himself sink back, forcing his eyes to
stay open despite the swirling of the room.
"And you left London. Wasn't difficult to follow you. Not with my surveillance equipment. You could have picked a better
neighborhood to live in though."
"But you were there when I moved in. Already a resident," Ianto said, confused. He remembered her helping him.
"Oh, that was easy. You had to go back to where you'd left your Lisa, didn't you? Money goes a long way when there's
something you want. The young couple next door didn't mind moving so much."
Ianto's mind focused on something she'd said earlier. Them. She'd told them not to use sedatives. Who were they? He
blinked, dazedly, and realized he was slipping away again. "You're working with someone. Who?"
A hand slid along his cheek, but he was too weak to push it off. "It's the sedatives, dear. Don't you worry, just rest."
"Who?" he asked again, struggling against the cresting waves that threatened to drag him under.
Mrs. Koladka was smiling once more, but it seemed darker somehow. "Well, I couldn't exactly take care of your myself, could
I? I've no medical experience. I needed someone who was an expert. And there was such a small number of survivors."
A sickening feeling settled in Ianto's chest. It made his stomach roll unpleasantly. He knew. Even before she confirmed it.
There was no one else it could be. Only one member of that research team had survived. "Nathaniel James."
She brushed her fingers through his hair. Despite himself, he couldn't deny that it felt reassuring. "Sadly, yes. I have no love
for the man. But he is the only one left. I had a rough time getting him out of that hospital."
"You're trusting my life - our lives - to a madman!" He was losing the fight, falling. The room was dark around the edges,
growing darker still.
"Sshh," she hushed him, petting him tenderly. He could feel her free hand pressing against his belly, stroking him through the
thin barrier of cloth. "I won't let anything happen to you. Either of you. My David, he would have been a good father."
When Ianto awoke again, it was to the familiar feel of fingers carding through his hair. He jerked awake, shoving himself up and
away. Nausea rolled his stomach and he leaned over, pressing his hands to his knees and swallowing thickly around the rising
"Ianto! It's okay. It's me!"
Gwen. That was Gwen. He looked over his shoulder and saw her sitting behind him, her hands raised in a placating gesture.
Unlike him, she had been allowed to retain her clothes, instead of being forced into a hospital gown, though her coat was
missing. He felt a flash of indignation over that. Then again, she wasn't the science experiment here.
"Gwen, are you okay?" he forced himself to ask, then frowned at the gravely sound of his own voice. "You're not hurt, are
you?" She looked all right, but there could be an injury he couldn't see.
"A bit of a headache. It's nothing," she said, waving off his concern. "Probably from whatever tranquilizer they used. I only
just woke up on the floor. I was scared when I saw you lying there so still."
Ianto rubbed his forehead. His head didn't ache. He was more nauseous and dizzy than anything. "I think they used a different
dose on me," he admitted. "I woke up earlier. But I couldn't stay awake."
She rubbed his arm. "This is about your baby, yeah?"
Ianto nodded. He couldn't deny it and Gwen deserved to know the whole truth. He told her everything Mrs. Koladka had said,
and the few things he had inferred from the conversation. He wasn't sure Mrs. Koladka truly knew just what kind of a man
Nathaniel James was. Ianto doubted he'd be leaving this place alive.
"Don't you start talking like that," Gwen ordered when he told her his fears. "Jack will find us. And he will get us all out of
Ianto nodded, though he wasn't sure he believed her. He took a moment to look around the room. There was nothing to see.
There was only the one cot that was bolted down to the floor and nothing else really. The chair Mrs. Koladka had been sitting in
earlier was gone, as was the bin he'd been forced to use when his stomach had rebelled. There were no windows and only one
solid metal door. The walls were bare and metal as well, and the lighting was too high above their heads to reach.
To his distaste, there was a metal sink and a matching toilet taking up a corner of the room. He didn't want to contemplate that.
"Hey," Gwen called, her fingers ghosting through his hair just over his ear. He turned to her, watching the small smile flicker
across your face. "Don't give up now. You've come so far already. That little boy is going to be so beautiful because you took
such good care of him."
Ianto didn't know what he would have said, or if he would have said anything. Either way, the option was taken out of his
hands as the door to their cell swung open. An armed guard came in, swiftly training his weapon on Gwen. Another guard
stepped in with him, this one striding straight to Ianto and grasping him by the elbow.
"Come along, Mr. Jones," called a voice that Ianto had hoped to never hear again. He shuddered as Nathaniel James came to
stand in the doorway. "Your colleague will remain here and unharmed so long as you cooperate."
Ianto flashed a look over to Gwen. He understood her expression well enough to know that she was ready to try and make a
break for it. But he couldn't risk her like that. He shook his head almost imperceptibly. She didn't seem to relax, but there was
a fraction less tension to her shoulders. It was enough to assure him that she wasn't going to do anything reckless right now.
"Just a routine exam," Nathaniel continued. "We need to see how well you're progressing."
Ianto was dragged to his feet. The guard pulled him along. With one last look back at Gwen, he was taken from the room. The
door was slammed shut and locked behind him.
He looked around as he was led along. This seemed to be an industrial building, comprising an area for offices or some other
such storage space and a larger area for a warehouse. Already, he had a few ideas as to where he was.
A door ahead of him was shoved open and he was urged through. He froze in the doorway, breath catching in his throat. "Keep
moving," one of the guards ordered, nudging him with his weapon.
Ianto did not obey. One look at the table dominating the center of this room and his blood had run cold. He didn't care how
clean everything seemed to be. Or how many monitors and other such medical equipment was surrounding it. The table itself
was frightening enough. If they wanted Ianto anywhere near it, they'd have to drag him.
So they did.
He dug his heels in and tried to struggle. But really, he was no match. They manhandled him over to the table and forced him
up onto it. He threw out an elbow, feeling a flare of satisfaction at the resounding crack of a nose breaking. His elation was
short-lived as two more guards came out of somewhere to help.
Breathing heavily, heart racing, Ianto soon found himself lying on his back. Someone held his wrists down, another fastening
them into padded restraints. "Stop," he tried, gritting his teeth and struggling all the more when one of the men grabbed a flailing
"Enough of this, Ianto," Nathaniel cooed. "You'll just wear yourself out."
Ianto didn't let up. He wasn't about to lie back and take it.
His other ankle was gripped and he was unceremoniously dragged down closer to the edge of the cold metal table. Ineffectually
kicking, he let out a growl of rage as his legs were forced up into the pair of stirrups and strapped down to the icy metal. With
his knees bent and spread apart, he felt mortified and more vulnerable than he could ever remember being before.
"Let me go."
Nathaniel ignored him, still smiling a frankly disturbing smile. Ianto flinched as the man touched his knee, sickening fingers
grazing up his exposed thigh. "It's good to see you again, Ianto," the oily man said. "I have to apologize about the decor,
however we weren't expecting your arrival quite yet. Circumstances dictated we had to move our plans forward a bit. Couldn't
exactly risk you spending the rest of your pregnancy locked up in that secret base of yours, could I? I'd never get my results
"Don't touch me!" He jerked back, but didn't get far and Nathaniel's hand began to dig into his skin, holding tight, far too tight.
Abruptly, Nathaniel released him. He walked around to the other side of the bed and picked up something from a tray there.
"Look familiar?" he asked, grinning widely.
Ianto would know it anywhere. It was the device that had caused all of Ianto's troubles. A simple enough looking device.
Small, metallic. It sort of looked like a wide, flattened hammer to him. Maybe a mushroom. Definitely not something you'd
assume would be able to cause a man to get pregnant.
"Of course you do," he said, answering his own question. "You wouldn't be in this state without it. When those metal men
came I hid it away. I knew I had to. Couldn't let the experiment be ruined." He pet the device almost lovingly. "I knew I'd
need it. No other way to harvest the nanogenes from your body afterward. And of course, I'd need it to implant them in the
Ianto flexed his hands. Already the bastard was talking about his next subject. Some other poor fool who would be allowed to
die for the remnants of Torchwood One.
Nathaniel shook himself, his distant smile slipping away. He returned to the here and now and placed the artifact onto the tray.
"Let's get started then, shall we?"
Ianto watched him scrub up and don a pair of gloves. He had no choice but to submit to the scans being taken of him, to the
blood being drawn. One of the men he'd assumed were just there to guard him stuck an IV cannula into the back of his hand
and taped it down.
"What's that?" Ianto asked, watching the bag dangling from the IV hanger.
"Don't you worry about it," Nathaniel said, moving around to stand by Ianto's feet. Much to Ianto's mortification, the oily man
dropped onto a stool he'd set up down there. Hands caressed his inner thighs in the most unprofessional of manners.
Ianto choked on his breath. He kicked a foot, but it did no good. He was restrained too well. Nathaniel only chuckled, his
hands sliding further up.
Movement beside him made him turn. The guard was there again, a syringe in hand. He injected it into Ianto's IV.
"Help me," Ianto pleaded, not even bothering to try and stop the few tears from trailing along his cheeks.
There was no response from the man. Not even a glance in his direction. He turned and walked away.
Ianto pulled against the straps again, but the effort was useless. He fell back against the metal table, panting out of frustration
and panic. Dimly, he became aware that something was wrong. The sounds around him were growing dimmer and the lights
seemed both too bright and more distant at the same time. He could feel his breath slowing, his heart calming. Had they sedated
him? Was that what they'd injected into the IV? Or was it the solution in the bag itself causing this?
"Are you feeling it yet, Ianto?" Nathaniel asked from what seemed to be so far away.
"What-What did you do?" Ianto asked, mind muddled.
Nathaniel's hands were squeezing the muscles in his thighs. Ianto shivered. Then his body seemed to go completely slack, as if
all of his bones had melted.
"Just a little something to help you stay calm," he said, then removed his hands. "Doctor Jenson perfected it. A cocktail of
sorts. Keeps your heart rate and breathing down and knocks your senses a bit askew, but doesn't interfere with the nanogenes
or the fetus in any noticeable way. There's a mild paralytic effect too. I'm almost sorry to say it does nothing for pain though.
And this is going to hurt quite a bit."
Ianto could feel one of Nathaniel's hands shifting his genitals out of the way, a sickening touch that would have left him
shuddering if he could have. Instead he lay there, whimpering pathetically as the man groped him shamelessly. He palmed
Ianto's testicles, even as he touched something with a cold metallic chill to the exposed skin below them.
"I have been looking forward to this," Nathaniel said. "The last subject didn't live long enough for me to fully examine the
alterations to his body."
A sharp bite. Ianto gasped, eyes widening in horrible realization. A scalpel. Nathaniel had cut into him. He vaguely heard the
clatter as the cutting instrument was cast aside and Nathaniel's hand returned to him, fingers prodding belligerently at the fresh
slice. Then he knew nothing other than pain when those fingers slid into him.
He wanted to scream. But only whimpers and tears escaped him.
To Be Continued ....