Title: The Uninvited

Summary: A simple accident leads to something far more complicated. And far more troublesome. Set after Adam (2x05).

Warnings: Language, slash and some violence. (There is something that MIGHT be considered non-con, but it isn't really to be taken that way and I hopefully haven't written it that way either.)

Pairing: Jack/Ianto. (Also I/OMC later on.)

A/N: After a few silly little fics I thought I'd bring out the big guns. Oh and I've not had it beta'd because I'm too impatient. Enjoy!

The rain had turned to hail, tiny lumps of ice suddenly battering down upon Ianto Jones as he hurried along the path. He scowled and lifted one arm, attempting to shield his head from the unexpectedly harsh weather. It was a pointless effort and he soon gave up, opting to merely wipe at his soaked face instead and press onwards. In his other hand he held his gun, pointing safely down towards the ground, index finger stretched out along the barrel instead of ready on the trigger; he already knew that he wouldn't need to use the weapon.

The team had spent the day following a fair-sized group of Weevils through the city, their nest apparently stirred up by some earlier Rift activity. The beasts had all finally been accounted for, save a particularly sneaky one that he and Owen had been attempting to flank in the narrow alleyways that wound through a collection of run-down old buildings. Considering Owen's last call across the comms. that he already had hold of the Weevil, Ianto didn't really need to hurry, but he still kept up the swift pace, rather eager to get out of the icy cold rain.

The wind picked up, howling along the narrow road and pushing him forward. Ianto shivered and tugged the collar of his jacket up. He hoped, he really did, that whatever had disturbed the Weevils had not bothered anything else, because the day had already been long enough and all he wanted right then was to change out of his wet clothes and spend the rest of the evening somewhere warm and dry. Preferably with the largest cup he could find, full to the brim with strong coffee.

Almost impossibly, the wind grew even stronger, forcing him to stumble faster towards the next corner that would bring him back to Owen and his Weevil. The noise of the air moving past his ears shifted up from a natural wail, increasing in pitch and volume until his head rang and his vision blurred. He staggered, his foot slipping on the wet curb, but before he could regain his balance a flair of light exploded before his eyes and he fell into the road.

The grey world tumbled around him, spinning so that he could no longer be sure which way was up, until at last it slowed and came to rest and he was on the ground, staring up into the hail.

Shocked, Ianto lay there, motionless, blinking occasionally against the frozen droplets falling onto his face. He was numb with surprise and alarm, but as he turned his head to the side, pain blossomed along the entire length of the right side of his body. Ianto gasped loudly, eyes squeezed shut against the agony, mind whirling with confusion over what precisely had just happened.

The sound of footsteps broke through his bewildered thoughts, moving steadily towards him, not hurried, not hesitant. He twisted, trying to look up and caught sight of a figure crouching down beside him. A pale face appeared above his own.

"Don't worry," a female voice said. "You'll be all right. I wasn't going that fast."

Ianto heaved in a huge lungful of air, hoping to ask her what had happened, but all that came out was a pained groan.

"Shh," the stranger said gently, placing a hand on his right arm and causing him to clench his jaw before another moan could escape. "It's okay, Ianto. You'll be okay."

He barely even heard the reassuring whisper, or the use of his name by someone he was pretty sure he didn't know. His eyes rolled back into his head and a blanket of darkness settled over him.