Title: They're Still Killing Suzie
Author: Clarity
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Jack/Ianto mainly, also Owen/Diane, Owen/Suzie
Spoilers: Everything Changes, They Keep Killing Suzie, Out of Time
Warnings: Character deaths, violence, creepiness
Note: The first IM chat is lifted from the Torchwood Hub.
Summary: Because gloves always come in pairs (and evil geniuses always have a Plan B).

***

I'm going to die here.

Feels like worms made of ice are slowly crawling around me, into my body, eating me alive. Can't fight it. Hurts...

They will come, but it will be too late. Too late.

I'm going to die here.

*

JACK: I've found your car

IANTO: Righto.

JACK: Yeah.

IANTO: Is it in the garage?

JACK: Yeah.

IANTO: And John?

JACK: Yeah.

IANTO: Jack - are you okay?

JACK: You might want to

JACK: Get the car valet serviced

IANTO: Okay. What's the problem?

JACK: It's John. John's dead. He died in your car. Exhaust fumes. I'm sorry.

IANTO: Oh.

IANTO: Jack, I'm sorry.

JACK: I was too late for him. And I'm really sorry about your car.

IANTO: No problem.

IANTO: Random question - was he in the driver's seat when he died?

JACK: Yes. Why? Does it make a difference?

IANTO: No. No. Not at all. No. Thanks.

[ conversation ends ]

*

Ianto peels Jack's coat from his shoulders and removes it, eyes watering from the oily stench of exhaust fumes following him out of his office and into the main Hub like an ominous cloud.

In a second Ianto knows everything. Jack stayed with John. He let him take the driver's seat and have complete control over his suicide. He tried to experience his death with him, probably holding his hand all the way, and once more he was unable to die.

Jack is pale and haggard, like a man who has aged a hundred years in only an hour. His eyes are dead and his expression listless. He's lost. Ianto's chest aches for him. It's a wonder he had the presence of mind to IM him when he didn't have the presence of mind to take his coat off the whole time he was hiding away in his office, waiting for Toshiko to go home.

'Go take a shower,' he orders, softly. Jack nods, unquestioningly and wanders off towards the elevator. Ianto takes a moment to lock up the base and slip the coat into a bag to take to the drycleaners. Then he goes down a few floors and fetches some spare trousers and a towel to take to Jack.

He finds him leaning against the glass screen of the shower with his eyes closed, arms hanging limply, head bowed and barely breathing. Ianto quietly removes his clothes and gets in behind him. Jack doesn't react.

Methodically, Ianto washes every inch of his skin and massages his scalp with shampoo. Jack only moves when Ianto moves him. He only leaves the shower when Ianto leads him out and dries him. 'Put these on,' Ianto says, handing him his comfortable trousers. Again Jack says nothing, he just obeys wordlessly.

Ianto dries himself and puts his boxers back on. He fusses over Jack's hair with the towel for a few minutes, trying to get it as dry as possible. Then he takes him by the hand and leads him away to the office. He can pick up Jack's clothes and tidy around later. Right now, Jack needs him to be with him.

He guides him down the manhole in the office floor and helps Jack onto his bed at the bottom of it. Ianto gets in beside him. He tilts his head a little and kisses him. It is very chaste and one sided but he expects nothing else. This is not the first time he has seen Jack get like this. The very first time it happened, it scared him. Now he knows what to do.

Ianto kisses him on the forehead and then on his neck and shoulders and chest. Ianto takes each of Jack's hands in turn and presses his lips to the palm of each, not once breaking eye contact. Though Jack's eyes are empty he is watching. Ianto knows that.

Gently he moves down to Jack's sleeping cock, lying limply against his thigh. Ianto strokes his thighs and balls and nuzzles into his hair. Then he draws it gently into his mouth and lavishes it with care and attention. It takes some time for him realise that there is no response. That does surprise him a little since it really has never happened before.

Ianto continues on though, taking it gentle and slow. He looks up to see Jack still watching. After a few minutes, there is still no response. Jack's eyes fill with tears. Ianto draws away and moves up to kiss him again. 'It's okay,' he whispers in his ear and pulls the covers up over them. Ianto turns him onto his side so he can lie down behind him and spoon up against him. He listens to the choked up, stuttering sobs of half-realised tears Jack is trying not to let out, for as long as it takes for them to wear him out and send him to sleep.

His thoughts drift. They can't go on like this. Jack may not be dying physically but he's slipping away emotionally, day by day, hour by hour. Ianto has been watching it happen, bearing secret witness to his darkest moments. He worries so much he feels physically sick some days.

No, it has to end. Ianto has to stop it, or at least try. Until now he's managed to resist the small alluring voice whispering in his ear that maybe, just maybe, he knows of a way to help.

Even if it might be a trap. Even if his better sense is telling him it would be a spectacularly bad idea to try. The voice keeps on whispering and dangling it all before him. He can't ignore it any longer.

Ianto makes the decision there and then.

He decides it's time to let Suzie help him.

*

The next morning, after having his car taken away to be fumigated and getting Jack's coat drycleaned, Ianto takes care to serve everybody as much coffee as they want and make sure nobody goes hungry. The base is quieter than usual. Owen is unnaturally silent, his face pinched and his eyes dull. Gwen looks tired and worried. Only Toshiko seems to be acting normally, though the tense atmosphere can't help but affect her too.

Jack is back to acting normal again, or as normal as ever does. They don't talk about the previous night and Ianto receives no thanks. He never does. It's better that way, he thinks. Jack is unnaturally still compared to normal, staying at his desk, staying quiet; that is one of the telltale signs which Ianto can read. It tells him everything he needs to know about his state of mind.

Once certain they are all fed and watered, Ianto makes excuses about settling business at the bank. Then he walks into town and hires out a car for the day.

It is about half an hour's drive out of Cardiff to reach St Woolos Hospital but he knows no one will notice if he is gone all afternoon. He has already covertly called ahead to make an appointment. It's all set.

'I'm here to see Max Bayer,' he tells the nurse at the desk and gives his alias.

She hands him over to a warden in a white and navy uniform who runs through a little medical history of Max, some dos and don'ts, and some warnings. Ianto nods politely and takes it all on board. He knows what the man will be like. After all, he was the one who had him committed there.

Ianto is shown into a room with a lot of patients, mostly watching television or playing games. Max is at a table staring at a blank piece of paper. He has a crayon in his hand. Ianto gives him a quick, cautious once over and then takes a seat next to him. 'Hi Max. Do you remember me?'

Max furrows his brow a little and slowly looks towards him. His eyes light up. It's eerie. 'The suited man.'

'Yes. You remember when you were in that cell and I came to take you away and have you brought here? And you said you had a message for me from Suzie? You remember her? Suzie Costello?'

'Tell the suited man, there is means enough to save our Captain yet. Tell Ianto only.'

The same nervous sensation creeps up on him and makes him shiver a little. 'Another glove? You said there was another glove?'

'Tell Ianto I have hidden the second glove. He needs to know of it. For our Captain.' Max's eye twitches as he stares. Ianto gently guides his hand towards the paper, pressing the crayon's tip to it.

Ianto leaves a few minutes later clutching a piece of paper with an email address and a password scribbled onto it in green smudges. He knows that it isn't a product of Max's imagination; Suzie has left him a message.

He judges it best not to take a look from the Torchwood computer network. Toshiko would notice and probably crack it in seconds. So he stops off at the library and goes on the internet there, in a private booth that normally people have to reserve but he is able to get through a little bribery.

Address: captainmycaptain@gmail.co.uk

Password: 2ndchance

Inside there is one email, marked unread. The sender is, of course, marked out as being Suzie Costello. It is dated way back to when she had been alive. The first time, that is.

Tentatively he clicks on the message and mentally prepares himself not to get too excited or upset over anything that might be contained within. Ianto is still in two minds as to whether pursuing this second glove she thought might help Jack somehow is a good idea. Judgement rests upon the contents of her email.

Ianto,

If you're reading this, then I'm dead, and you will know what I've been up to. The path I'm heading down is a dark one. I know that. But I have to make this glove work. I have to. It's not something I can explain except to say that it is incredibly important and even if it destroys me, I have to do this.

The reason I went to these lengths to have you find this message should things not work out is simple. I always planned, once the first glove was working, to tell you about the second one. After we got the original glove, I went back on a hunch and found a matching one close by, along with a unique knife made of the same material. The other glove is an opposite of sorts; it sucks life out of things, instead of the other way around. I tested it a few times and killed a bunch of plants and flies. It left me with a sick, cold feeling though, like something dark crawled into the shadows around me and was watching. Scared me like nothing I've ever experienced. I didn't want to tell you about it until I was sure the good one worked, in case my theory went wrong and we needed it.

Oh yes, my theory. Unlike the others, you and I know all about Jack's indestructibility (even if he never knew that I figured it out). We've seen what it does to him and, for whatever reason, you're the one he turns to. I know you care for him deeply too (not like that, of course, I know you have a girlfriend).

Ianto winces a little and takes a deep breath before continuing.

I think the second glove can help him. It connects with death somehow. I'm pretty convinced it could actually cure him once and for all. I couldn't make it work all that well, not that I wanted to really, but since you share such a connection to him I think you could do it.

You have no reason to trust me or my motives, I know that. But I always considered us friends. We've been through a lot together, you, me and our Captain. I have a great deal of respect for him and, to be honest, I hate knowing what he must think of me now. And you too, Ianto. I hate knowing what you must think of me. In a way, this is to say sorry.

I have hidden the glove out in the countryside, in the outhouse of the farm my parents once owned in Gloucestershire. The property is empty now but I still own the land. It's about an hour away from where we camped out to catch that werewolf. Remember that? Details and maps are attached to this email. I wanted to make sure it was far away so it couldn't be found and used. It's a frightening thing so be sure not to let it take you over, the way the other glove did with me. I know you'll do the right thing.

Sincerely,

Suzie

He rereads the email once, twice, takes a breath and then sits back in his chair, thinking about it. Ianto accesses the attachments and recognises the route up to a certain point. There are directions going offroad that he will need to take by foot, which he's not sure he likes the sound of. He thinks it would be best to go by day. That means taking some time off.

Ianto returns to the Hub. Everyone has gone home, except for Jack of course. He's in his office. The lights are all still on.

Concern flushes his cheeks. He doesn't want to lie to Jack, and not only because he isn't very good at it. He always said he never would again. Ianto steels his nerves and schools his face into a well practised blankness. He knocks politely, enters boldly and asks Jack for a day off. He chooses the day after tomorrow, hoping that will be notice enough, mind racing with stories about sick relatives and emergency situations that might justify his absence. Jack gives him a warm smile, which crinkles the skin around his eyes adorably, and tells him he can have any time off he wants. He asks no questions. Ianto sees gratitude radiating from him for the night before. He wants to tell him that it's not necessary but knows that would be improper conversation.

They do not discuss their arrangement. Never. It simply is. Ianto has no clue what it supposed to be, or what it means. Yet the consideration does not concern him enough to speak of it; he will demand nothing from Jack. Some treasures are too precious to risk for idle curiosity. Or longing.

Ianto begins counting down the hours until his trip from that moment onwards.

*

Something doesn't quite feel right. A faint sensation of nervousness is bubbling in his stomach and he knows he can't leave without some sort of insurance.

Ianto contemplates forwarding the email to someone but soon dismisses the idea as they would get it too early that way. He considers printing Suzie's email out and leaving it somewhere they would be likely to look if he were to mysteriously disappear. The trouble is, he can't think of anywhere. And that option leaves too many factors unaccounted for. That is unacceptable.

In the end, Ianto decides to make the print-out and write a note in a language he is fairly certain only Jack will understand; a shorthand script of a dialect of English from the 51st century, which he picked up during an incident at Torchwood One - Ianto and a few others had been accidentally exposed to rays from a mysterious orb-shaped device, which came into Torchwood's possession through a time fracture, and it had affected their language centres for a little while. The incurable effects still linger. He knows Jack is from the future because of some occasional slips of the tongue he makes; small sounds and noises, which seem like nothing to everybody else, yet make perfect sense to Ianto. That, he supposes, is a story for another day however.

There are certain things in his letter that he has no wish for the others to read, even by accident. And perhaps he says more than he should because he knows they won't see it. Somewhere at the back of his mind he has realised that this may be the only chance he has to get a few things out in the open. To say what he really means.

Ianto is not fool enough to trust Suzie completely. Now that he has got his car back, he can make some preparations. He is taking his gun. His phone is charged. His car is filled up with petrol. Even his tyres have been perfectly pressurised. His boot is filled with something for every eventuality; heat blanket, extra boots, extra clothes, a spare wheel, food and drink and more. He is not going to go into this blind.

It is still no guarantee though. So if he lets loose a little more than he would normally dare to in the note, that's okay. It is justified.

Ianto leaves them all a note to be sure to check the mail if he isn't there, as something important will arrive that cannot be missed. Then he seals his letter and Suzie's information into an envelope, affixes a first class stamp to it and posts it early enough in the morning to be certain it will arrive back through the door of the Tourists' Office the next day. If he is not back by then, he knows the information will be appreciated.

He leaves quietly and early, before anybody can arrive and ask him questions. This is a mission and he must treat it as such, with careful planning and every eventuality covered. That's the Torchwood way.

Well, okay, it isn't really, but it's how he thinks it should be.

*

TOSHIKO: Owen, you got a minute?

OWEN: Nope.

TOSHIKO: Fine.

OWEN: Where are you?

TOSHIKO: Jack's office.

OWEN: Oh. Okay. Why?

TOSHIKO: Jack's computer has got some viruses. I'm just cleaning them out.

OWEN: He's letting you hang around in his office while he isn't there? Weird.

TOSHIKO: I thought so too. Do you know what else is weird?

OWEN: Nothing springs to mind.

TOSHIKO: Jack's gone out to fetch us coffee. He never does that.

OWEN: Didn't notice.

TOSHIKO: By the way, do you know where Ianto's gone?

OWEN: No.

TOSHIKO: He's never taken a day off before. Something's going on, I can sense it. Jack looked miserable this morning. And he's been so fidgety.

OWEN: I'm sorry, is there a point to this?

TOSHIKO: Owen, are you alright? You've been snippy since...

TOSHIKO: Oh I'm sorry!

OWEN: Don't want to talk about it.

TOSHIKO: I can't believe John killed himself either. Did you get to know him really well?

OWEN: That's not it.

TOSHIKO: Oh.

OWEN: Just forget it.

TOSHIKO: It's Diane isn't it?

OWEN: It's nothing. Just drop it.

TOSHIKO: You can always talk to me you know.

[ OWEN HAS LEFT THE CONVERSATION ]

*

Ianto looks at his watch and feels stupid. It's taken nearly four hours to get there, when it should have taken only three. All because they forgot to put his bloody GPS back into the glove compartment of his freshly serviced car and he didn't notice.

Reaching the site where they camped out during the werewolf hunt had not been a problem. Ianto made a point of passing through, if only to see if the tree Jack had carved “Owen 4 Suzie”, “Toshiko 4 Owen” and then, as an afterthought, “Jack 4 Ianto's ass” into was still there. It was. And so was the carving, half hidden behind moss down near the roots. Seeing it made him grin. Jack had only showed that to him after he made it. Not the others. He can still hear Jack's laughter, so free and open and kind of childlike, ringing in his mind from that day.

From there the map grew vague and he had taken too many wrong turns along the tiny country roads that rarely seemed to be traversed. But Ianto takes a deep breath and puts the frustration behind him. He is there. That is all that matters.

He parks his car at side of the road leading into a private property and quickly takes a look at the cast iron postbox beside the gate. It has the name Costello stamped on the side. 'Here we go,' he mutters to himself and double checks that he has his gun and his phone with him.

Ianto climbs over the gate and wanders ahead, up the dirt path, wondering how far he will have to go to reach the actual farm. He is led through the middle of some fields and up a sizable bank slope. Only once he has gone over the top of the hill does he see the collection of stone houses which had to have once been Suzie's home. He remembers, idly, that she mentioned growing up on a remote farm in the countryside once, since her dad had dreamed of being a farmer despite spending most of his life as a restaurant entrepreneur. He recalls that she didn't seem to be all that enamoured by that fact. Suzie had got out and gone to the city as soon as she was old enough to do so and never regretted it.

Still it's a beautiful little farm and one he can't imagine anybody disliking. Ianto walks down the path, noting the eerie silence cast over the place. He tries to imagine what it was like when there were livestock and chickens and the like there, bringing the place to life. It's difficult. The closer he gets to the cottages and barns the more creeped out he feels.

He takes out the directions from his pocket and rereads them. He is directed around the side of the main house, through a long garden reaching back to a dense patch of woodlands, over to a wooden outhouse. It's large and sturdy, but doesn't seem to be quite as old as everything else.

Ianto goes inside and fumbles to find a lightswitch as all but one of the windows are shuttered. The lights flicker reluctantly to life and reveal all kinds of junk piled around the place. Straight ahead he sees a familiar object, standing on a wooden table against the opposite wall, on a raised up level made of pinewood. Ianto takes a deep breath and starts forwards along the dirt floor, over to the three steps leading up towards it.

There he stops and hesitates, feeling cold prickles on the back of his neck. He never did like the glove Suzie had worked so hard on, even before they discovered its true nature. And this was one is making him feel even worse, if that's at all possible.

The memory of devastated tears in Jack's eyes and of a dozen nights wrapped around him, trying to soothe his uneasy sleep, steel his nerves however. Ianto can and will do this, because he is doing it for Jack.

He goes up, one step at a time and walks forwards across the wooden boards towards the table, eyes fixed on the prize ahead. The way the light is catching it makes him think of Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark, when Indy is about to steal the idol from the weighted plinth. He discovers his palms are sweating as he reaches out and, after a moment of hesitation, grabs it.

Ianto turns around and suddenly he is falling.

Everything goes black.

*

Ianto,

Not sure if I'm going to send this email yet. I suppose it depends on what I end up saying in it. I'm not even sure why I'm writing it at the moment.

Thing is, we're both terrible at talking. Not about the frivolous stuff of course, that's a walk in the park. When we're talking about nothing much at all we can outtalk the best of them. But start on important stuff and neither of us can say a damn thing.

Back in the forties people used to write letters. This isn't as good but it'll do. In my imagination you get back this evening and stop by to make sure the Hub is all closed up properly and the pterodactyl (that's how you spell it, right?) is in for the night. You check your email just to be sure you haven't missed anything, and this catches your eye. After all, I never send you emails.

So there you are, looking really perplexed and probably feeling more than a little worried. Then you open it and you get to this point, and probably look around to check I'm not standing over your shoulder (don't worry, I won't be).

Then you see this: I want more for us.

In my imagination you're smiling now. Nothing big. Just shyly, to yourself. I hope so. I love that little smile you get when you're touched and you let it show because you think no one is looking. Bet you didn't know I thought that.

Nothing we have is normal and I want it to be. I'm not even sure if you know what it means to me, what you do I mean. It's been a long time since I really shared stuff like that, you know, when I've just lost it, with anyone. Not even the people I've loved. Actually, especially not them. I've always hidden it and had my bad moments in private. I like to keep a front going. You know, big unflappable Jack. Never fooled you though, did I? I still don't understand quite how you just stepped right over all that. Some day you're going to have to tell me.

I guess what I'm saying is, you're different. Or I'm different. Something like that. I'm not sure why this is suddenly happening to me now. Feelings stuff. I really want to know why. I want to take you out and talk to you properly, outside of work. Try some coupley stuff. We've been playing around for ages. We've had our ups and downs (big time). Yet, despite all of that, you're the only one I could ever possibly imagine doing what you do. You always drive all the bad stuff away and barely need to say a word. No matter how shitty my day, waking up in your arms makes it all better. You make it all better. There's another thing I just don't understand.

I know what you're thinking. Is this an email or an essay? Well, I'd never get all this out to your face if I tried. So this is the next best thing. It's not as good as a letter though.

Jack

PS — I downloaded some porn (crashed my computer with about two hundred viruses but I think it was worth it) and I can definitely get it up now. I was just out of it last night. Just so you know.... ;)

*


Ianto wakes with a start and a gasp. Pain shoots through his head, making spots of colour dance before his eyes.

He finds himself half submerged in two feet of stagnant water and the sticky mulch beneath it. Weight is pressing down on his stomach. He looks and finds a heavy metal glove on top of him.

Only then does he remember how he came to be there. He grabbed the glove, turned and then...?

Ianto looks up. He at the bottom of a tunnel. A well, he realises. The ceiling and the light just visible at the moon-like opening at the top tells him that he is still in the outhouse Suzie sent him to. The wooden platform has opened into a door; a trapdoor, obviously.

A booby trap.

He is spurred into action. First he rescues his phone, gun and torch from his pockets, checking each to make sure the water hasn't ruined them. His torch still works at least and Ianto uses it to see his surroundings better.

The well is made of large stone bricks and looks like it's probably been around for a while. About a metre up, several of them are missing, creating a large hole. A small wooden music box has been placed on the ledge created by this. Too deliberately for his liking.

All of his senses are telling him that he is in danger. He has already realised that it must have been a trap all along and doesn't want to find out why he has been lured out there. All he wants to do is get out. Now.

The first thing he does is try his phone. There is no signal but he keeps trying, hoping against hope that it will work. It doesn't. So he puts the phone, the gun, his torch and the glove on the ledge and gathers himself as best he can to try and climb the wall.

He doesn't get far before slipping back into the stinking mud with a messy squelch.

Ianto stops still for a moment and tries to clear his head. He's beginning to get very worried and more than a little panicky.

'What would Jack do?' he mutters to himself, almost unconsciously. The question doesn't prove to be much help, because he suspects the answer would be that Jack wouldn't have been stupid enough to get himself into such a position in the first place. Jack wouldn't have been blinded by hope the way he has been.

After some contemplative minutes, Ianto sighs and decides he has no choice but to follow the clues set out for him. He takes the box from the alcove, along with his torch, and slowly opens it up.

It's empty. Though the ballerina in it turns around to the tune of the Sugar Plum Fairy. In other circumstances he thinks finding such a toy might have been endearing. In these it is merely eerie.

He puts it back, feeling more than a little puzzled to have found it empty.

Unless he wasn't supposed to fall into that well after all? Unless it was a horrible mistake that Suzie did not plan?

A few minutes pass by and Ianto tries his phone again. It still won't call or deliver messages. It's no great surprise considering how out of the way he is.

Time begins to tick by, slower and slower. He's cold, wet, muddy, miserable and wondering what he's doing there. Every now and then he finds himself thinking about what Jack would say if he could see him. Or imagining what Jack will say to him when he receives the letter he posted and comes after him.

In good moments he can imagine a happy reunion where Jack is so touched he would go to such lengths for him, he'd sweep him away in his arms and never let him go again. When he's being more realistic, all he can envisage is shouting and a lot of anger.

Hours go by unmarked before he properly explores the walls. Not that he's searched for a magic exit button. Well, not really. He's curious about possible structural faults. Something, anything, that might give him an idea of how to get out of there.

As he checks out the alcove, hoping it might have a door at the back of it — the start of a secret tunnel out of the well — and is disappointed.

He finds his eyes getting drawn to the metal glove more and more. It's still creepy, but close up he can see the artistry of its design.

Eventually, out of boredom he picks it up to look closer. It's a heavy object and the metal is smooth. But it's not cold. Whatever strange metal it's made of retains some slight warmth somehow. It makes it feel strange. When he turns it over, to look inside, he realises there is something inside it.

Ianto grabs his torch and looks closer. It looks like a small plastic bag has been taped inside one of the fingers. He tried to grab it but can't quite do it. The edges of the selotape fixing it in aren't immediately visible either. But he keeps trying, pushing his hand further and further in, trying to get a grip.

At some point his whole hand slips inside and suddenly, a huge surge of something rushes through him and grabs him at the core of his body, like an inhuman claw reaching inside. It's like electricity, yet cold. His whole body shakes with it.

With considerable effort, he manages to pull it off his hand and he drops it down into the water. Ianto falls back against the wall, half-gasping half-shrieking for breath.

That felt nothing like the other glove.

He had tried the one Suzie had been obsessed with once, just to see if he could get it work. Barely anything had happened, and what did happen he had to force. Why he had connected so readily with this one, when there wasn't even a subject to focus it onto nearby, he honestly didn't know.

Once he had caught his breath sufficiently and managed to calm himself enough to stop shaking, Ianto realised he had something in his hand. It was the rolled up plastic bag from inside the glove. He fought to control himself enough to properly unwrap it.

Thirty seconds later, he had liberated a rolled up piece of paper. Duly he wiped his hands on the small part of his jacket that wasn't covered in muck and carefully unrolled it, using his torch to see.

When I was a little girl, my father used to make me stay down here for days when I was bad. I was bad if I didn't do what he wanted me to do. What he wanted me to do nobody should ever have to do.

He stole my life. That's why I deserve another one. But I can't have that life if you don't die.

I'm sorry Ianto.

*

Oh God. Oh God. What is this? What...?

S'cold... oh my God.

Breathe. Breathe.

Box. I'm in a box. I'm in a...

Morgue.

Oh... oh it worked. Yes, it worked. Max did it.

I'm alive! Again.

Oh my god, I was shot. He shot me!

That bastard!

But it won't be me full of holes. Not for long. It'll be him. I'll live. No more darkness. No more.

First need to... get... out...

No no no, can't move the door. Can't move it. Why? Is it stuck? Am I too weak?

It's... it's been locked. Fuck!! Fuck, I didn't think of that.

Damn them! Oh fucking hell it's cold in here.

No, Suzie, just calm down. Think this through.

Wait. Wait until you're stronger. Then you'll be able to break out.

Wait. Just wait.

This time they'll never figure out how to stop it. You have time. All the time in the world! Ha!

Just wait...

*

Jack steps out of his office with caution, half expecting Ianto to be at one of the computer stations, smiling at his email, exactly as he imagined.

Instead he finds the Hub empty and strangely silent.

He's taken aback a little by just how disappointed he feels. Jack ends up standing on the upper level for a while, overlooking everything, half waiting for Ianto, half marking time. Finally he gives himself over to the urge he has been suppressing all day and wonders just what has called Ianto away so suddenly. Jack even finds himself wishing him back with all his might.

Eventually, he makes the decision to make a phonecall. Nothing overbearing of course. Just a friendly call. It wouldn't mean anything; just one friend enquiring after another.

The realisation that Ianto's phone is out of range perturbs him a little, but Jack decides he has no option but to let it lie. If Ianto doesn't want to be contacted, that's his decision. Jack has made every effort not to make a fuss and to not let himself seem overly interested. It's stupid, that much he knows, that even after so many centuries of falling in and out of love, on those rare occasions when he wants to go beyond flings, fun and fucks to explore something deeper, he turns into a mess. All of his trademark confidence tends to go out of the window, leaving him like a schoolboy asking after a date.

Jack wanders back to his office and puts on some music, quietly. He occupies his evening dancing with himself and popping off some rounds on the firing range. Then he goes to bed, wishing very much that he wasn't going alone.

*

Ianto wakes up with a start. The simple act of movement hurts his aching limbs considerably and makes him groan.

For some reason he feels prickly in certain areas of his back and chest, like he is being prodded by invisible nails. Ianto tries to ignore it and attempts to think of ways to get out of the well.

Every limb feels heavier than usual as he pulls himself up out of the gunk lining the bottom of the well and tries to find a way out. He knows it's unlikely that he'll find a secret door if he hasn't found one the last three or four times he'd looked, but he tries all the same. There's not much else he can do, after all.

All too soon he has to give up and sits back down in the water, defeated and tired. His watch says it is going nearing midnight.

He drifts off back into an uncomfortable, dreamless sleep, only to wake up again some time around three a.m., screaming.

*

The moment Suzie lands on the floor she starts chuckling to herself. Waiting had been the right option. Not only is she strong enough to have broken the flimsy old lock put on her morgue bed's alcove, she is more or less able to walk too.

She's going to get away with it this time, she can feel it.

Suzie hurries over to the morgue slot around the side and out of the way, where she hid some supplies for this eventuality a long time ago. There is a bag inside with a set of clothes, a set of keys, some shoes, a watch and a piece of alien technology she stole from the archives which will offline any CCTV she goes near. Such things will be needed in order to make good a quick escape with no one watching. Last time she had to have the others bring her back so she couldn't have used it.

This time things were so much simpler.

They'd never know she was missing. It was a plan so perfect she wanted to laugh and laugh and never stop laughing.

Of course she takes care to close both morgue doors and to hide the broken lock. It wouldn't do for someone to notice something amiss, after all. Suzie quickly tests the device with all the CCTV cameras and manages to overload all of them she goes near.

It's only just gone three in the morning. No one will be in the Hub, except for Jack, and she intends to be very quiet. He'll never know she was there.

Suzie straightens her long, dark hair and clears her throat. Excited butterflies are in her stomach now. Because this time she will truly be able to disappear forever, and there is nothing any of them can do to stop her.

This time, she's going to live.

*

Panic grips him as he wakes up with blood seeping through his shirt in heavy spots. It takes a moment for his head to clear enough to realise what must be happening. After all, he was the one who wrote all of the notes on the condition of Suzie's body. She had been shot six times by Jack; twice in the chest and four times in the back.

The holes opening out in his body and boring pain through him match up exactly to the injuries he listed.

Ianto fights to control his breathing. It can't be happening. He went nowhere near Suzie's body with the glove, she can't have made a connection with him the way she did with Gwen. It makes no sense. It can't be happening.

Except it is.

He thinks back to what they did the last time and the solution becomes immediately obvious. He reaches for his gun stands the glove up on the alcove, moving everything else out of the way.

It's difficult to take aim as his hands are shaking. The knowledge that this could be life or death manages to steel him enough to take aim. Ianto puts one arm across his face to guard against possible shrapnel and fires a bullet directly into the metal hand.

As with the first one, it shatters into pieces immediately; something to do with the unique alien metal and the way it reacts to fire, he remembers Toshiko saying.

Ianto sags back against the cold stone wall, gasping with relief. He's destroyed the glove, it must be over. Jack will come and he'll be rescued. Things will be fine.

Something blocks his throat and makes him cough. He finds blood on his lips.

He knows it but he doesn't want to admit it. Not even though the bullet wounds in his torso are still hurting and the red spots on his shirt are still getting bigger. It can't be true, it just can't be.

Destroying the glove had to have worked.

Except it hasn't. And he's never been so scared.

*

Jack,

You'll forgive the language I'm using to write this letter. There are certain things in it I don't want the others to ever be able to read. It's just for you (you always did like receiving letters, after all).

You will have read the printout I made of the email from Suzie by now. This being the case, you will be pretty angry at me. For that I'm sorry. I don't have much of defence. Only that I thought it was the right thing to do.

However, if you're reading this, it means things have gone wrong. I intended to be back before this letter arrived. This was only a precautionary measure. We all know how devious Suzie can be.

I know what you're thinking. Why now?

The answer is simple. You can't go on the way you are. You may not be able to physically die but you're dying inside. I don't pretend to understand what you're going through. I don't pretend that it's anything other than selfish to take it back to me and what that does to me, but I'm going to do just that and tell you truth.

I can't bear it anymore. Your pain bleeds. It's in everything around you. It gets into me and it hurts me too. That's the only way I can explain it. I do everything I can to try and help and it's not enough. It will never be enough.

This is a chance to save you. It's dangerous, I know that. But you're worth the risk. Of that I'm certain. You mean more to me than you know. I would do anything, absolutely anything, to take this pain away from you.

Remember, it was my decision to do this and mine alone. Therefore any consequences are entirely my own fault. So please don't dwell on it. People do stupid things for love all the time and you know I have a history of that.

Regards,

Ianto

PS - Occasionally you slip into your native language, usually when swearing. Why you speak a 51st century dialect of English, I won't ask. Just so you know how I wrote this letter, I got blasted by an alien device at Torchwood One a while back and picked up language variations from all kinds of eras. That's all. I never mentioned it because I was intending to surprise you one day by swearing back.

*

Owen enters first, taking care to be extremely quiet. He whispers to Toshiko to guard the door and treads lightly across the floor of Ianto's apartment, clutching at his gun.

He knows immediately that she is there, just as Toshiko predicted from the pattern of CCTV going offline across Cardiff.

The shower is going and for some odd reason, it makes Owen's mouth twitch to hear it. After all, he and Suzie once had a great deal of affinity for the shower and all its kinky possibilities. They came back from a lot of missions covered in slime, or mud, or dirt of various kinds and that had made the shower a pretty essential part of their routine.

Owen nudges the ajar door to the bathroom further open and is hit in the face by a small gust of steam. He can practically taste Suzie in it, though he might be imagining that. He nudges his feet forwards, into the room, with great caution. Immediately his eyes focus on the figure inside the shower stall; a figure he knows all too well.

'Get out,' he orders, doing his best not to let the tremble in his chest come through into his voice.

She turns, startled, and then seems to relax a little. 'Owen, didn't I always used to tell you never to come into the bathroom while I'm in the shower unless you intend to get in with me? Hmm?'

Her voice is leisurely and purring. She knows every button to press and Owen finds himself gulping at the thought. Suzie was always the sort of girl who loved to play mind games. Nothing like...

Owen has to fight approaching thoughts of Diane. Yes, they are both tall, lean, strong minded women, but that is where the similarities end. Suzie had none of the vulnerability he connects with Diane, which made him fall so hard for her. Suzie was hard as steel where it counted most. At the time that had suited him. Now, it just made him sick.

'Congratulations, you caught me. Now what?' she asks, casually, continuing to enjoy her shower.

'You're going to get out of the shower and put some clothes on. Now.'

She snorts and turns around to him, smiling that smile which makes his balls shrink up into his body. 'You're too late, you know. There's no point to this.'

Suzie slowly steps out, beads of water rolling down her slender body, long dark hair stuck against her skin like the serpentine hair of Medusa.

'Stay there,' Owen growls, unconsciously stepping back himself.

'Look,' she says and points to the blemishes across her torso where Owen knows Jack's bullets had torn through her that second time she died. They are nearly faded now, although Owen notices that the stab wound from the Life Knife is still there. 'Almost healed.'

'How?'

She shrugs and moves closer. 'This feels like old times, doesn't it? You, me... a hot shower.' Suzie puts her hand over his gun and pushes it down, pointing away from her.

For some reason, he doesn't fight her. All he can see is her naked form and all he can smell is the heady scent of shower gel, steaming off her body.

'What was it you used to call us? Fuck buddies... Good times.' She giggles.

That snaps him out of it and he pushes her away; just as she was about to go for his gun, he realises. Owen glares, enraged and screams at her, 'Fucking women! You're all fucking the same!' He takes a shot and she dodges it.

She actually looks completely taken aback, realising that he actually had been aiming for her and isn't fooling around. Suzie lunges at him, twisting his arm to get the gun free. Owen pulls out of her lock and hits her, hard enough to floor her.

He kicks and kicks and kicks, seeing Diane where Suzie should be, screaming incoherently at her until hands are dragging him away and Toshiko is holding him. She tries to put her arms around him, cooing, 'Oh Owen, I'm so sorry about Diane...' but he pushes her away and storms out.

It is left to Tosh to handcuff and cover up a partially unconscious Suzie and to escort her into the car.

Owen doesn't go back with them, electing to stagger away into the night instead with no explanation.

*

I'm going to die here.

Feels like worms made of ice are slowly crawling around me, into my body, eating me alive. Can't fight it. Hurts...

They will come, but it will be too late. Too late.

I'm going to die here.

*


'What does it mean?' Gwen asks, quietly, eyeing the note Ianto left him.

Jack doesn't have to look to know what she is talking about. He thinks he probably should have left it behind, yet he couldn't quite manage to put it down before going. He had put it back with the maps and the print-out of Suzie's email and brought them all along.

He doesn't take his gaze off the road and doesn't reply. His eyes are hard and glassy because he isn't blinking enough. They've broken every speed limit on every road they've hurtled down, and it's a dark night, after all. Jack can't afford to crash, but he can't afford to hang around either.

'Jack?' she insists. 'Is it some sort of code?'

'Yes.' His tone is one of a final word on the subject.

Of course Gwen keeps pushing. It's in her nature. 'So why did he write to you in some sort of code, then?'

'Because it's private. It's not for you or the others to read.'

That answer clearly dissatisfies her a great deal. Gwen sits back in her chair, lips pursed, eyes narrowed. Apparently she thinks she can figure it out by thinking about it, or by getting it out of Jack in a different way. 'Is it something to do with that whole thing with Lisa?'

He frowns. 'No. It's personal.'

She thumbs past the cryptic note and returns to Suzie's email. 'She said that Ianto knows you can't die. I didn't know that,' she pushes some more, gently, only continuing when he doesn't respond. 'When did he find out?'

'He's always known. He's Ianto.' Jack only realises how stupid that sounds once he's rounded a particularly sharp corner, almost offroading them, and gets back onto a straighter road which requires less concentration. 'What I mean is, he sees everything that goes on in the Hub. Always has. You don't get to clean up shit without knowing how it gets made.' He risks a quick glance in her direction and sees that she wants more. 'I told him because he needed to know.'

There is a long pause, and then, 'Would you have told me if Suzie hadn't shown me the way she did?'

'It's not always about you,' he snaps and surprises himself a little. 'I mean, no. You wouldn't have needed to know, anymore than Tosh or Owen do. Ianto is...' He catches himself and sighs.

She gives him a stare but says nothing, even if she clearly wants him to tell her more.

They race around along the country roads in silence. Gwen makes an attempt to put on the radio but Jack switches it straight off again. He's just not in the mood for the Bay City Rollers' Greatest Hits.

Eventually, they reach the end of the last track. Jack stops the SUV next to the car already parked and leaps straight out. He doesn't even have to look to know that it's Ianto's car.

Jack hops right over the fence, his greatcoat billowing out behind him, and he takes off along the track at full speed, not waiting for Gwen. Once he reaches the farm, he stumbles between the buildings, torch in hand, yelling Ianto's name.

'The map says... outhouse...' Gwen says once she had caught him up, completely out of breath.

He grabs the map and spins around, searching for it. They run behind one of the buildings and it becomes immediately visible at the end of the garden since the light is on inside. Jack does a headlong dash towards it.

The moment he has made it through the door he calls out Ianto's name again. Together they stumble forwards, looking around, eventually coming to the steps and the wooden platform ahead. Gwen begins towards the table and has to be yanked back from the edge of the hole in the floor.

Jack kneels down and shines his torch down the well. 'Ianto? Ianto?' He peers in. 'I think I see him!'

Immediately he whirls to his feet and looks around the room for something to help him get down there, while Gwen peers down herself, trying to see.

'Give me a hand,' he calls, and she runs over to help him pull out an old ladder stuck beneath the junk. It's long and wooden, and is discoloured at the base of one end.

When they put it down the well, it fits perfectly. It seems to have been used in such a way before. Jack slings his greatcoat over at Gwen and leaps down, two rungs at a time, down into the darkness.

She peers into it, hearing slight splashing noises and Jack's voice echoing around, unintelligibly, then silence.

Then, sobbing.

*

'Oh.'

Gwen gives Toshiko a moment to take in what she has just told her.

There is a huffing sound over the line as Toshiko takes a deep breath. 'But did you find the glove?'

'In pieces. He must have shot at it before he... Obviously, it didn't work. Something else must be doing this. How's Suzie?'

There is a pause as Tosh stops to choose her words carefully. 'The wounds which killed her before are healed up.' She decided it was best not to mention the way Owen had gone to town on her and caused a few new ones. 'She's locked up and handcuffed right now. Not going anywhere.'

'Right, good. We'll be back in about an hour and a half. Say about eight thirty.' Gwen turns off the earpiece and concentrates on driving.

Her gaze soon falls onto the rear view mirror. Jack is in the back seat, eyes closed, and Ianto is in his arms, head tucked under his chin, cold and grey and muddy from the well they'd found him in. Jack hasn't said a word since they'd set off. He barely seems to be breathing.

As she watches, a tear rolls down the side of his face. It finally breaks her. 'Jack I... I'm so sorry.'

'Don't be. He's coming back.' His eyes open and glare back at her in the mirror like blue steel seeking a target. Then he cups Ianto's cheek and tilts his head back enough to press their lips together for a moment before staring down into his peaceful face. 'She's not taking him away from me,' he growls. 'This was to hurt me. I'm not going to let her do this to him, Gwen. I'm not losing him. Not now. Not yet. No way.'

Gwen contemplates asking how long he and Ianto have been having some sort of relationship, as she now realises they were, but realises the answer would probably be the same one she received earlier.

He's Ianto, and that means something to Jack. Something she had never suspected.

*

Yeah, you've reached my phone but I can't be arsed to pick up right now. So leave a message after the tone, 'k?

*BEEP*

Owen, please pick up. Look, you need to come back to the Hub. Jack and Gwen are on their way back. They... they were too late. We... Look, we really need you right now, okay? I know you're hurting but... please just... come back. I'll um... I hope to see you in a bit.

Oh, it's Toshiko, by the way. Uh, yeah... Bye.

*BEEP*

*

'You look like you need a Doctor.'

Suzie cracks one eye open and glares at him. 'Keep going Captain, you'll get the art of irony eventually.' She sighs and sits up from the plain bed of her cell, stiffly. 'Who pissed in Owen's gravy?'

Jack smiles, broadly. 'Oh, what Owen dished out pales in comparison to what I'm planning to do to you.'

She takes a moment to gauge his seriousness, and then leans back against the wall, projecting a distinct lack of concern. 'I fancy a coffee,' she says, and smiles back.

Although inside he is exploding with anger, Jack manages to rein it in. 'You're going to tell me what I need to know to reverse this.'

'What makes you so sure it can be reversed?'

'We reversed it last time.'

'You had a glove to destroy last time,' she shoots back, without hesitation. 'Gwen mentioned it had been destroyed. Lovely girl; very helpful, I find.'

'Then you've pulled this off another way,' he replies, just as quickly. 'But whatever it is, however you've done this, I'm going to figure it out. You can count on that.'

'And if you don't?'

He steps right up close to the plexiglas, almost pressing himself against it. 'If I don't, I'm going to kill you. Slowly and painfully. And if you come back to life, I'll do it again. And again. And again. And never ever stop. I will make you pay for this every second of every minute of every hour of every day of your miserable little existence until you beg me to let you die for good.'

Suzie chuckles a little but he can see she is rattled by his words. He isn't fucking around, that much is obvious even to her.

'Kill me, you'll never get him back,' she growls. 'You'll have two corpses on your hands instead of one.'

'That's a risk I'm willing to take.'

'I don't think that'll be necessary,' a voice says, and Owen steps out of the shadows.

Jack turns around to him, curiously, surprised he hadn't heard him climb down there.

'Hello Suzie.'

'Owen,' she practically spits his name out. 'Over Deirdre yet? Or was it, Diane?'

'Don't bother, love. See, I took a little walk earlier. Got some fresh air, watched the sun rise, that sort of thing.'

'I always thought you hated fresh air,' she replies.

He shrugs. 'Turns out it has its benefits. Cleared my head enough so that I got to thinking about all of this. I realised something. The bullet-wounds you had all healed up because they got sent over to Ianto, right? But why just those? You still have a stab-wound to your chest, and one that doesn't appear to be affecting you at all. Now I'm no Doctor — oh wait, I am — but that doesn't tally. That led me to thinking about that pretty little knife we've got locked away. Part of the matching set, isn't it? Same weird metal.'

Jack looks at Owen with dawning realisation.

'Then when I got here, Tosh said the second glove was destroyed but you're still around. It all clicked into place. It's the knife isn't it?' He looks smug. 'This was your backup plan because it could only work if you'd already got yourself connected up to the knife, which we had to do to make the first glove work. Presumably that meant that Ianto didn't even have to touch you with the other one, all he had to do was connect to it himself, and voila. You got jumpstarted.'

The look on Suzie's face tells them both that Owen has cracked it.

'Holy fuck!' Jack gasps and makes a run for the ladder.

'Jack, wait! I haven't told you everything!' she yells after him, frantically. 'There are things you need to know about the other side. Things only I can... tell you...'

But she is alone.

'About the thing that's coming for you...' she mutters and steps back from the screen, looking around the cell, hoping against hope to find a way out. This isn't right, none of it. She is supposed to live this time. It's not right.

Jack goes straight up to his office and into his safe to find the weapon Ianto had once jokingly named the Life Knife. He pulls it out of its containing box and goes back down into the main Hub, where Gwen, Owen and Toshiko are waiting for him.

He mounts the knife on a table, trapped between two books to have it stand on end and steps back. Then he takes out his gun and aims at it, one eye squinting. 'Bye Suzie,' he says as he pulls the trigger.

The spark makes the metal blade explode into fragments in the exact same way the two gloves did.

Toshiko runs to her computer monitor and checks the CCTV footage of the cells. 'She's dead,' she gasps and smiles.

A loud clatter draws their attention and has them all running for the adjoining autopsy deck, where Ianto had been laid on the table. He is on the floor beside it, hyperventilating, struggling with the air.

Alive. Very alive.

Immediately Jack is by his side on the floor, dragging him into his arms. 'Ianto, it's okay! It's okay, I've got you. I've got you.' He kisses into his hair, frantically trying to hold him still.

Eventually Ianto stops struggling and relaxes into his arms, though his eyes remain wide open, staring off to places they can't see and probably would never want to see.

'I've got you,' Jack continues to promise, rocking him slightly.

Ianto doesn't respond.

*

He doesn't respond the first few times Jack calls his name and doesn't react until he slides his arms around him and presses close. Even then it's only to flinch.

'What were you looking at?' Jack asks, quietly, wondering why Ianto had been standing morgue, in front of Suzie's final resting place, staring up into the cavernous darkness above the lights in the enormous chamber.

'There are eyes.'

'Where?'

'In the shadows.' Ianto frowns and blinks a few times, like he's having to snap himself out of some kind of fugue. Tentatively, cold fingers trace along Jack's arms and he double wraps his arms over Jack's, around his body. 'Have the others gone home?'

'Yes. They won't be in for the rest of the day unless there's an emergency.' He kisses Ianto on the neck and smells the soap from the long shower Ianto has recently taken. 'Just us now.'

Ianto sways a little, relaxing into his arms, leaning his head back on his shoulder. 'Is this what you see when you come back?'

He peers up into the darkness that so seems to be mesmerising Ianto. 'What?'

'All those eyes.'

'I... don't think so.'

A slight shiver goes through them both. 'I understand why Suzie did it. The darkness... it's alive... it's moving. All the while. I never saw it before. But it's just like it was there.' He frowns. 'It's watching us.'

Jack spins him around and stares into his eyes, holding onto him by the forearms. 'Don't talk like that,' he says, more than a little freaked out and understandably so.

But Ianto's eyes just slide closed. 'It wants you, Jack. So bad. It... hungers.' His face crumples a little with the threat of tears. 'I don't want it to get you.'

'It won't. It won't.' He pulls him into his arms and holds him as he sobs into his shoulder. 'It'll be fine. You're alive, that's all that matters. Just... don't think about it.'

Ianto relaxes so much Jack finds himself grabbing onto him and lifting him up into his arms. Arms wrap around Jack's neck and Ianto nestles in against him, like a sleepy child. 'Take me to bed, please,' he whispers and goes completely limp.

The lights automatically turn out behind them, one by one, as Jack carries him down the white walkway leading out of the morgue. Suzie, and all of the other dead corpses, are once more left in the darkness.

Jack manages to get him all the way up to the Hub and to his office, only letting him down to climb down the rung ladder into his private room.

Once there, Ianto stands with his eyes half closed, leaving Jack to peel away the layers of his suit, item by item. Once the top half has been stripped, he allows Jack to lay him down on the bed to remove the bottom half of clothes, along with his shoes and socks. Ianto opens his eyes briefly to watch Jack get undressed and smiles a little when he lies down beside him. Jack strokes Ianto's cheek and tilts his head to the side in order to kiss him.

'Make love to me,' Ianto sighs, almost inaudibly.

'Sure?'

Ianto nods and Jack thinks he understands. They need to affirm that they are alive. It strikes him as funny that, normally things are exactly the other way around when they are in this bed. Normally Ianto is the one having to make everything right. That consideration only makes him all the more determined to do things right and to prove that he can be there for Ianto the same way he's there for him.

If he doesn't know any better, he would have said Ianto is asleep. He is still and small, barely clinging to existence. Jack covers his body with kisses and lavishes his hardening cock and balls with attention, even daring to slip a tongue down along his sensitive perineum and along the entrance to his body. He spreads Ianto's legs and puts a pillow under his hips, making him as comfortable as is possible. Then he dribbles honey-flavoured slickness all over and inside him. Ianto may not seem to be with him but Jack instinctively knows he is, all the way.

He starts to put on protection but Ianto stops his hand and shakes his head a little.

Again, Jack understands. He slides one arm underneath Ianto's back and just holds him close while he carefully opens him more and more with his fingers.

'M-mark me,' Ianto gasps, suddenly gripping onto the hand resting on his hip.

Jack quirks an eyebrow but doesn't question the demand. He draws the pearly skin over his ribs between his lips and makes a mark. Then he bites his shoulder a few times and leaves some lovebites on his neck.

A grin threatens to take over his face as Ianto begins pushing down onto his fingers and shuddering, his stomach quivering. Jack holds it back, though a proud smirk slips out. His eyes are bright and sparkling as they take in the sight of Ianto, glowing like a mother of pearl shell under the soft lights, trembling under his touch. He rolls on top of him, hooking his arms under Ianto's shoulders to the elbow and caressing his face and hair as he kisses him. They only break apart when Ianto gasps and throws his head back a little, moaning at the sensation of Jack sliding into him.

'Don't stop never never stop,' he gasps in the future dialect he knows Jack speaks.

'Wouldn't dream of it,' Jack replies and gently rocks them into a familiar rhythm, taking time to build it all up.

Chest to chest, stomach to stomach, every movement he makes creates friction against Ianto's cock and elicits sounds from his lover that go straight down through his spine. Jack loves it more than he could ever say.

'Mmmore.'

Jack picks up the pace a little and drives himself home as far as he can, making Ianto arch into him and cling on tight, mumbling something obscene in Welsh. His heels dig into the small of Jack's back as they ride the crest of a wave of pleasure for what seems like an eternity.

The, almost too soon, Ianto shudders from head to toe and comes in pulses between them. With a few hard thrusts Jack pours everything he is and everything he feels into the man in his arms, delighting in the precious moment between them which almost never was.

'Don't know what I'd have done if I'd lost you,' Jack breathes into his ear, collapsing over him, enjoying the sensation of heated skin on skin.

It takes him a moment to catch his breath and pull himself together, but when he does he is startled to see Ianto staring upwards at nothing, eyes wide open. It was the same expression he had been wearing in the morgue.

'What if you did?' Ianto whispers. 'I... don't feel all here.'

'Shhh.' Jack rolls them over so that he can't look at the darkness anymore; he has to look at him. 'Whatever you're seeing, don't look at it. Don't look. It's not there. You're here, you're alive and I love you. Hold onto that, you hear me?'

Ianto nods, tentatively. 'You do?'

'Yes.' A small, almost shy smile touches his lips. 'I do. Nobody can pull me back from the place I fall into sometimes, except for you. No one. So let me return the favour. I can do that much at least.'

'Jack I'm... I'm scared,' Ianto admits. 'And I'm... so cold.'

He pulls him a little closer, arranging their bodies so that Ianto can rest his head on his shoulder for approaching sleep, the way they often sleep. 'That'll pass in a day or two. The fear... that never really goes away. It just becomes bearable. More bearable with someone to share it with.'

Ianto lies down on him and slings his arm over Jack's chest. 'Okay.' His eyelashes begin to flutter and his eyes slowly close. Just when Jack thinks he's asleep, Ianto mumbles, 'Mm love you,' and seems to sigh.

'You too.' He kisses into his hair and then lies back, listening to his breathing evening out and holding him protectively.

Unable to sleep himself, Jack just stares up into the darkness above them.

The darkness looks right back at him.

And starts to move again.



THE END

***