Alone Together

by goddessmaat (LJ | e-mail | comment)
Torchwood | R | Jack/Ianto | 20,046 words

This fic provides Ianto with a back story. Why did he need to save Lisa? The reason is hidden in the childhood he can't remember, and the terrible, horrific dreams that come at the same time every year. Canon in so much as Ianto and Jack are developing a relationship over the course of the story.

Betas: rojodiablo and Rebecca E

Art by Taliosi_x (LJ | comment) and Tigress35 (LJ | comment)

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Chapter 1 – Awaken

Dim light filled the unnaturally silent room, softly illuminating the three men; the American stood nonchalantly against the wall in his shirt sleeves with his arms crossed. The younger man wore an immaculate dark suit, an intense but slightly glazed look in his eyes and the hint of a smile on his lips. The other man, naked, gagged making not a single sound, shackled to a shining steel table.

"For me?" Ianto turned to Jack as he asked the question giving a truly enchanting smile.

"Yeah. Do you like your gift?" Jack's bright blue eyes were fixed on the bound man, watching him intently as he spoke to Ianto; anticipation of the younger mans reply burning through his veins.

"Oh yes," the Welshman replied breathily his accent strengthening as a result of his excitement.

Ianto walked over to the table. He looked the bound man up and down, grey eyes dragging cruelly over the pale skin almost like a physical sensation. His heart filled with happiness, he could hardly believe that Jack had done this for him. It was an immense thing the logical part of mind knew, that his partner had kidnapped this man and brought him here as a present for Ianto, to play with.

He dragged a finger softly down the shivering torso. Grey eyes met fear filled brown ones, Ianto smiled cunningly as he moved his hand up and held the man's nose closed. His smile grew as the man struggled in his bindings and tried to breath through the gag. Every part of him filled with such energy and lift, how could something like this ever be topped. He released the nostrils and turned back to Jack.

But he'd gone! The room was darkening he quickly turned round but as he did so he noticed a knife dripping with warm blood in his hand. The bound man was still there, but now he was covered with deep cuts.

Ianto started to scream. The sound of his screams echoed in his ears as he suddenly awoke. He looked at his hands; they were empty. Salty tears stung at the side of his eyes as he lay back in the sweat soaked sheets still gasping for breath. A wave of nausea flooded through him. He tried to calm his breathing as he stood and stumbled through the darkness to the bathroom.

Cold damp hands connected with icy smooth porcelain grasping it until his knuckles whitened as he emptied the scant contents of his stomach down the toilet.

Dry heaves eventually gave way to convulsing exhaustion. He sat, naked but for his boxer shorts, his back against the cold hard wall of the bathroom. The only light was that of the full moon shining it's white light through the small window. Scared to close his eyes again he stayed there watching the play of light on the wall until his heartbeat slowed to something near normal.

Standing he stripped off and stepped into the shower. Turning it on the water was glacial, stinging his shoulders before it gradually warmed, getting hotter and hotter until it ran down his back in a burning stream washing away a superficial surface layer of the nightmare.

The water was cooling before Ianto turned it off and stepped out grabbing a towel and wrapping it round his damp body. He went back through to the bedroom and noticed the bed was still a mess. That would need changing he thought to himself, as the logical orderly part of his mind took over from the overwhelming fear that he'd woken with.

He sat on the edge of the bed, towel wrapped round him. He shivered, not with cold, but at the thought of the dream he'd had. He retraced the steps in his mind footfall by footfall. He had learned at a relatively young age that dreams always held a deeper meaning; they were your subconscious mind attempting to deal with issues you'd pushed away while awake.

He remembered opening the door to the Archive room, seeing Jack standing there waiting for him. He experienced the pleasure he always felt at the sight of his boss, the pleasure he refused to acknowledge and continually pushed away in real life. Now the memory of the sight of the man bound on the table sent a shiver of horror through him replacing the pleasure he remembered he'd felt in the dream. With one determined effort he shut the doors in his mind and closed off the memory with quick practiced efficiency, locking it away with others. He didn't want to look for deeper meanings even if he knew that he should.

He glanced at the clock on the dresser in the corner of the room, it said four am. He knew that there was little point in him trying to go back to sleep, so he pulled on some fresh underwear, loving the feeling of their silk on his skin.

He stripped the bed, putting the sheets and duvet cover in the washing machine and re-made it with fresh ones. His stomach now settled he made a coffee, bringing it through to the bedroom while he got ready for work. Selecting his suit, he laid it on the bed, after picking out a shirt he went through his ties until he found one which co-ordinated to his satisfaction.

He glanced round the place as he picked up his keys, phone and wallet; everything was tidy, clean, in its correct place. It was still dark outside and he switched off the apartment lights, climbed into his car and headed to The Hub.

He entered through the Tourist Office and leaving the door unlocked behind him he flicked on the light in the back office. Dropping his keys on the desk he pressed the button to open the door to The Hub and headed downstairs.

The lighting was dim, computer monitors and air-conditioning hummed as always. His footsteps were loud on the metal stairs and walkways, but he was accustomed to it. Jack was usually in, there was no sign of him at the moment but he went into the kitchen and set the coffee machine to work anyway.

While he was waiting for the coffee to finish he went down to the main level. Sitting down at a bank of monitors he reviewed the nights CCTV footage. Despite the fact that he knew the computers monitored activity and they would be notified if anything happened, he still liked to check for himself. He gave a quiet chuckle as he watched the activities of his fellow team members as they left the previous evening and then closed the files.

Hearing the sound of movement from Jack's rooms below, he headed back to the kitchen to get himself and the other man some coffee, he was still early he realised, the microwave clock said ten minutes to five.

Picking up two steaming mugs he carefully carried them through to Jack's office.

The older man looked up, a hint of concern on his face.

"You shouldn't be here," Jack said, curiosity colouring the words.

"But I am, couldn't sleep. Coffee Sir," Ianto phrased it as a statement and with years of practice, deftly diverted the conversation.

"Oh and I doubt that Owen and Gwen will be in early this morning Sir, I believe he was planning to take her to Bar 38, he heard they were having a special Tequila night."

Jack spluttered spewing coffee everywhere, and grinned.

"You did that deliberately Ianto," his eyes gleamed with laughter.

"I wouldn't do that Sir," he replied smoothly.

"I need to go through some figures Tosh gave me," he turned to leave. "Good Morning Sir," he smiled, nodded and left.

Chapter 2 - Absolution

Ianto settled back down at a bank of computers and started them running through the figures Tosh had left for him to look at. His pale, slender fingers flew softly across the keyboard, creating algorithms that few people other than he and Tosh would understand or appreciate the beautiful complexity of.

Jack stood in the doorway of his office in a t shirt and trousers, hair messed up and coffee mug in his hand, a smile on his face from just watching the younger man work in the quiet and calm of the morning. He'd never said it, but he found Ianto's quiet efficiency calming and soothing in its inevitability.

Ianto was still something of a mystery to Jack but this was something that he could relate to and understand although he doubted the young man realised just how much. He knew that he himself was probably the only other person in Torchwood who was hiding more than the young Welshman. Jack had gone through Ianto's personal file shortly after he joined, he'd been intrigued by the quiet, efficient, hot looking young guy in the immaculate suits who had been so determined to join Torchwood. What little he'd found had made him very curious about what he believed was missing from the file, and over the years since he'd done some hunting and asked some searching questions and filled in the large gaps with material that he, and he alone knew.

He took a sip of coffee; perfect as it always was, as long as Ianto made it. The Welshman looked up from his work and gave Jack a small smile. He grinned and lifted his mug in salute.

"Just going to grab a shower Ianto," he called, slamming the empty mug on a table as he passed. "Join me if you like," he laughed, knowing what the answer would be before Ianto even replied.

"Harassment Sir," the lilting smiling words followed Jack as he went down to the showers in the lower level.

He stood, hands flat against the wall, steaming hot water running over his back. The shower was always one place where Jack found he could focus his thoughts. Somehow in here he managed to filter the multitude of memories and feelings that built up in his mind over the too many years he'd been alive. He rarely cried nowadays, occasionally something would happen to set him off, but usually now if he chose to let go it would be in here, where he didn't notice as much, where it didn't seem to matter as much, where the tears washed away with the water.

Jack switched off the shower and got out, wrapping a towel around himself he picked up his clothes and went back to his room underneath his office. He dressed with a quick efficiency born of years and years dressing in the same style clothing and straightened his bed with a military neatness. He smiled to himself as he did it, remembering the one time that he'd not done this first thing, being dragged into an emergency. Ianto had come up to him once they'd got back, and offered to tidy his private room and make his bed. Jack had thanked him and said it wasn't necessary he would do it himself.

It had given Jack an insight into the Welshman's obsessive need to put things in order, and that small thing had forged within Jack a small realisation of Ianto's uniqueness. The two men had developed an understanding and balance. Jack made messes, Ianto tidied them up, Jack flirted outrageously, Ianto rebuffed him, Jack drank lots of coffee, Ianto made exquisite coffee and kept the best for Jack away from the other members of the team. Jack knew that they never realised Ianto made two lots of coffee one for Jack, one for the rest of them.

With Lisa everything had come tumbling down. The hands off, sympathetically harmonious friendship that had developed between the two men was destroyed with the swift, sudden revelation of the young Welshman's betrayal.

Ianto paid the price for his betrayal. The wordless conversations between the two men had led to him coming to see Jack one night shortly after he had finished ridding The Hub of the superficial signs of what had gone on there. He hadn't been surprised to see the young man.

Jack hadn't apologised for putting a gun to Ianto's head, and Ianto hadn't apologised for calling Jack a monster. Ianto simply asked for Jack's forgiveness and in order for him to give it, Jack asked to know why he'd done it. He had driven the young man to tears once again. Subserviently kneeling on the floor in Jack's office, tears pouring down his pale cheeks and splashing on the immaculate black suit trousers, Ianto said only that he wanted to help her. His demands to know why didn't result in any answers that satisfied Jack with the knowledge that Ianto himself knew why he'd done it. He said that Ianto would have to earn forgiveness from the team. As the young man had left his office that night he'd put one final question to him.

The memory surfaced in Jack's mind.

Ianto stood in the doorway, his head bowed and clothes hanging loosely showing loss of weight that he could ill afford to lose.

"What is it you don't forgive yourself for Ianto," Jack's words cut sharply through the air. Ianto stumbled and turned to look at him, surprise and confusion in his eyes.

"Nothing Sir, only trying to hide her" he replied.

Jack had taken a long shower that evening, thankful that his tears were private and unseen.

Jack shook his head, bringing himself back to the present. Ianto had earned their forgiveness, Jack in particular had noticed all the things that Ianto had done and the gradual restoration of their unique friendship had pleased him.

He was climbing up into his office when alarms went off. Glancing over he noticed that he and Ianto were still the only two people who were in. Five am, still early he thought.

"I've got an indication of someone with alien tech here," Ianto said pointing at a small red ring slowly moving on a blue outline map of the streets of a Cardiff suburb.

"Where's Tosh?" Jack asked, eyes on the screen. He looked up to see Ianto with his phone to his ear already making the call.

"Tosh, where are you," the words were halted by the sound of the big disc door grinding open.

"Here Ianto," Tosh called as she ran inside.

"Ok, Tosh, you stay here and monitor what they do, Ianto you're with me."

He grabbed his greatcoat out of Ianto's hands, grinning as he realised that Ianto had to have gone to his office to fetch it. Both men put on their headsets as they ran towards the garaged SUV.

Jack noticed that Ianto had also grabbed a small black rucksack that he'd slung on his back.

"What's in there," he asked, always one to get his curiosity satisfied whenever he could.

"Just a few essentials Sir," Ianto replied, a small smile on his face as he got behind the wheel of the SUV.

"Ianto, I want to drive," Jack whined like a child who knew that his parents would say No.

"Yes Sir, I know you do, but I think the residents of Cardiff would rather you didn't if at all possible."

Jack's answer was to stick out his tongue. He knew Ianto was right, his driving was rather reckless, possibly something to do with being immortal he thought to himself as he heard Ianto give a faint laugh.

Chapter 3 - Instigation

Ianto drove quickly through the quiet streets of early morning Cardiff, Tosh guided him without hesitation, nearer and nearer to an industrial complex inland from the Bay.

They drove through the entrance, in to the warehouse parking area. It was empty of vehicles for which Jack was grateful as Ianto did a glorious screaming handbrake turn opposite a big open roller door, before switching the engine off and leaping out of the car, pocketing the keys as he did so.

Jack was out of the vehicle and following the younger man; coat swirling behind him in the breeze and his headset glowing blue, he looked like some kind of comic book superhero, assured, determined and astonishingly beautiful.

The warehouse was dim inside with the only light coming through the open door and a dozen or so skylights in the ceiling. Ianto shone his torch around, into far corners, and over dusty, dirty piles of crates.

Tosh's voice in his ear guided Jack.

"Ianto, over here," he called as he ran up a steel staircase leading to an overhead walkway which led to another floor, his booted feet all that broke the stagnant silence.

Only fractionally behind Jack, Ianto saw the man first, the light from his torch flashing over him purely by luck as he stepped off the stairs onto the walkway.

The two men ran over to him, Jack knelt down and checked his vital signs. Ianto ran his eyes over the unconscious man. He was tall and thin, his face had a hint of emaciation about it, as though he hadn't eaten in a while, he was probably in his mid fifties, dark haired, with a hint of grey, his skin pasty and dull. Ianto's eyes re-focused on what Jack was handling, a wide silvery metal band encircling the man's wrist. Jack ran a scanner over it and tried to undo it but in the dim light he couldn't find a way to release it.

"This is what we've been looking for," he paused looking up and glancing around. "He's breathing, just unconscious but we can't send him to the hospital with this though." He indicated the wristband.

"We'll take him back to The Hub. Call Owen and tell him to get his lazy skinny ass in to work."

Ianto nodded, and bent down to help Jack pick up the unconscious man. An uncomfortable shiver ran through Ianto as he did so; he pushed his puzzlement at his feelings out of the way and with his free hand pressed his speed-dial for Owen. It took a while as the medic was a long way down his dial list.

Pale grey eyes glanced round the building as he waited for Owen to pick up.

"What do you want Ianto?" the Doctor said as he picked up the phone.

"You're needed at the Hub on a medical matter, we'll be back in about 10 minutes."

"I can't get there by then, anyway what am I needed for, Jack hasn't been shot again has he," there was a hint of pleased anticipation in Owen's voice as he asked the question.

"No, you wouldn't be needed for that anyway. Be there." Ianto said dismissively as he slid his phone shut.

Back at the SUV Jack manoeuvred the man's body into the cramped back seats, while Ianto went quickly back to give the building a final check over so that no one would know they had been there.

Returning, quickly, he gave a frustrated sigh as he realised that Jack was already in the driver's seat. Getting into the passenger side he slammed the door and grimaced as Jack tore off in a screech of rubber.

"Aren't we meant to be a secret organisation?" Ianto said, wearily.

"Ya think? You have seen TORCHWOOD on the side of this, and our pretty blue lights. You really think my driving's going to make any difference?" Jack grinned and laughed at the rhetorical question.

Their ongoing argument regarding his driving was a constant source of amusement to both men, and annoyance to Tosh and Owen.

He pulled to a screeching halt in the garage and both men jumped out of the car. Just as Owen stumbled through the doorway, a scowl on his face.

"Ahh, you made it in then Owen, good morning!" Jack said loudly and cheerily.

Ianto didn't think it was physically possible, but he was sure that the man's scowl became even more pronounced.

Jack and Ianto got the unconscious man on to a trolley and wheeled him down to the medical area.

Owen's instincts and medical training soon took over. None of the team could deny that he was a brilliant medic, and the man was soon cleaned up and being monitored. He slid a wallet out of the back pocket and threw it to Jack.

"Do you want me to take this off?" he indicated the wristband.

"Get Tosh to do that," Jack mumbled as he ran through the contents of the wallet.

"Call me when you've done it." he continued, as he left.

Tosh took fifteen minutes to find the hidden clasp to remove the metal band. Clearly it was meant to say in place once the wearer put it on. Her face screwed up with concentration as she studied the sets of readings on her hand held scanner.

The man, still unconscious, thanks to the sedatives fed to him by Owen, mumbled and tossed and turned after she removed it.

"It emits some type of empathic and telepathic waves," she said, by way of explanation, as she left taking the object with her.

Five hours later found Owen and Ianto depositing the still unconscious body of David Clarke onto the sofa in his living room.

Ianto glanced round the flat; filthy, dark stinking of stale urine and a general indeterminate mustiness, his mind was pulled between wanting to get out and quickly as possible and wanting to clean the place from top to bottom. As he looked round taking in the lack of personal items something uncomfortable pricked at his consciousness once again just as it had in the warehouse. Owen's voice broke through his thoughts and he pushed them away.

"Pass me that bag will you."

He handed over the clear plastic bag containing a vial of Retcon and a syringe. With his usual professional swiftness Owen filled it and plunged the needle into the man's arm. Pulling the sleeve back down he replaced the items in the bag and pocketed it before looking up at Ianto.

"Come on then Tea Boy, drive us back." His eyes ran over the unconscious body on the sofa.

"He'll be fine, won't remember a thing. I'm that good." He gave a self-congratulatory grin.

"Retcon is that good," Ianto corrected, as they headed out of the door.

Back at The Hub, Jack sat at his desk looking at the copies of the items from David Clarke's wallet. Something about the man rang a bell in his head, but try as he could he wasn't able to put his finger on what it was. He looked out of the open office door at Tosh describing with childish glee to Gwen what she was discovering about the wristband.

The door to the garage clattered open as Owen and Ianto returned. Jack's eyes automatically met Ianto's.

"Coffee Sir?"

Chapter 4 – Giving

Life and work in The Hub continued, normality being a relative thing in their line of work. Nothing out of the ordinary had happened that day when they'd found David Clarke, and it had been forgotten about along with the other mostly mundane things that were the bread and butter of life working for Torchwood.

A faint noise woke Jack from the doze that was his equivalent of sleeping. He rubbed his eyes and ran fingers through his hair. Pulling on a t shirt against the cold of the upstairs he climbed up the ladder. He was concerned, but not particularly surprised to see Ianto.

Jack made his way up to the kitchen and stood lounging in the doorway, contentedly watching the young Welshman.

"I take it you'd like a coffee Sir," Ianto asked calmly without having shown any other indication that he'd known Jack was there.

Jack smiled to himself, Ianto was always aware of everything that went on. He'd learned that early on in their working relationship that he was the one person who he could rely on to know everything that happened.

"You're in early again Ianto," Jack replied, knowing that the coffee question was entirely rhetorical.

Ianto turned round, handing Jack his full mug silently, his mind was racing with multiple thoughts. He was no longer able to easily push the dreams aside and they were starting to fill his waking thoughts more than he was comfortable with.

Sighing softly, he picked up his own drink and walked through to the meeting room. He liked this room; its glass walls giving a clear view of the main Hub floor, he never felt hemmed in here. Strangely the Archives were the only other place where he felt like that.

"I can't sleep, so I may as well come in here and work and tidy up after the others." He paused, taking a sip of his coffee. Looking up as Jack dragged a chair over in front of him, he watched incredulously as the other man lounged back in the chair. How he managed to look comfortable in these chairs Ianto was never able to work out, he was certain they'd been specially designed to be as uncomfortable as possible.

"You should ask Owen for something to help you sleep. I can't have you going off work sick." The soft look in the bright blue eyes contrasted with the hint of harshness in the words.

Ianto raised an eyebrow at that.

"Ask Owen? No I don't think so." He said quietly. "It will pass." The words held a tone of hopefulness.

The vivid bloody and erotic images from his dream popped unbidden into his mind again, and he bowed his head, sighing quietly, trying to shut them away.

Jack watched, the young man battle with his emotions, the usual hint of a wry smile on his face. It occurred to him as it had a couple of times in the past, that they both had similar ways of locking feelings and memories away inside their heads. He finished his coffee and put the mug down on the floor.

The sudden slam startled Ianto and he looked up to be met by those familiar bright blue orbs. Emotions carefully shielded, Jack's eyes gave none of his thoughts away, they only held the younger mans gaze with a searching look. Ianto looked away before the blue lazers bored through to his soul.

"I need Saturday off," he said, changing the subject abruptly.

"Ok," Jack replied non-committaly. Then he stood up and held out his hand.

"Come with me," he paused, "better get your coat though, it's chilly out" he smiled.

Ianto took Jack's hand and stood. He picked up their empty mugs and took them back to the kitchen before getting his coat.

"Where are we going," he asked genuinely curious, but also slightly concerned that he might be dragged along on one of Jack's mad escapades into the Cardiff underworld. Not that he would mind, he'd just like a bit of forewarning before something like that.

"You'll see," was the sly reply. "You're curious now, if I told you it would spoil the surprise and you'd think of some excuse to stay here," he said as they left The Hub.

Ianto couldn't think of a suitably clever retort; Jack was right of course.

Their long strides matched as Jack led him across the Plas, through the streets, dimly lit in the dawn light, to the Altolusso Building. Ianto knew the building, everyone in Cardiff did. He was only mildly surprised when a keycard was produced and he was led into the building and over to the lifts. Once inside Jack pressed the button for the top floor. Ianto felt the other man's shoulder bump his as he leaned back against the wall. He tried to push away the thoughts that invaded his mind of Jack's heat, and the smell of coffee, maleness and the elusiveness that was uniquely Jack.

The lift came to a smooth stop, Jack took Ianto by the hand and left him out of the lift, He had a big smile on his face which Ianto didn't find reassuring in the slightest. He was led up a fire-escape staircase, through a small doorway and onto the roof. He paused, gasping in pleased surprise at the view.

Jack turned to him an understanding smile on his face.

"I've seen lots of views, all over the place, but still, this is impressive," he said happily.

Ianto followed him along a narrow walkway, and out onto a piece of wall which hung in thin air, making a white frame surrounding nothing but a large piece of empty space. Jack stopped and sat down, feet hanging over the edge. He indicated for Ianto to do the same.

"It's refreshing up here, somewhere to think without external things interfering," Jack said, quietly.

Ianto smiled slightly to himself. Sitting up here, hundreds of feet above the streets of Cardiff he felt powerful, almost omnipotent, but curiously he thought what affected him most was the realisation that Jack had brought him to something which had up until now been private. He'd let him into a little part of his world that the Captain kept locked away from the others.

"Jack," he turned carefully, to face the other man, "thank you." He smiled. "For bringing me up here." His eyes met those bright blue ones, and a small shiver went through him, whether from the cold or the penetrating expression in those eyes, he couldn't decide.

The two men sat in companionable silence watching the sun slowly come up in the clear autumn sky. Each man was lost in contemplation; Ianto wondered what Jack thought about when he came to these places that seemed to be so uniquely his, far above the oblivious mass of humanity which continually moved below. The young man was distracted with thoughts and feelings that had started to become more frequent and involved the increased comfort with which Jack was becoming more important in his life. It was only looks, and words, but now it was this as well. Jack's place. . . .

The fiery red ball rose casting its bright flame over the city and the noise from the streets below grew as time passed.

"Hadn't we better get going Sir?" Ianto said finally. He had to admit to himself that he was starting to get cold as well.

Jack sprang up, Ianto closed his eyes and held back a wince as the thought of Jack falling off and crashing to the street below crossed his mind. He caught hold of the proffered hand and followed Jack back to the lifts and back to The Hub.

Chapter 5 - Discovery

Ianto woke early from the same type of half sleep that had been plaguing his nights for the last few weeks.

After putting on the coffee he took a shower and dressed quickly. He grabbed a steaming mug of coffee and sat at his kitchen table. Picking up his mobile he sent Jack a quick text – I will be in tomorrow to catalogue the artefacts in the corner of your office – it was also a reminder to the other man that he wouldn't be in today.

Jack didn't need any reminders though; as his phone bleeped at him he somehow knew that the text would be from Ianto. Sitting at one of the Hub's workstations he picked up his mug and took a long sip of coffee. Not quite as good as Ianto's he thought to himself, but not bad. He smiled. Contrary to popular belief, and Owen, he was quite capable of making a decent cup of coffee, it was simply that most of the time it was much more enjoyable to get, and watch, Ianto making it.

He read the short text, and glanced up at the monitor, watching the flashing red dot that was the tracer on Ianto's car.

Over the last couple of weeks he'd watched the young man, at the same time as in previous years, get increasingly tired and worn down. Their sojourn on the roof earlier in the week had finally spurred him to a decision, and subsequently to this morning's action. His fingers flashed across the keyboard as he re-routed the tracer feed to the SUV. He drained his mug, grabbed his coat off the back of the chair and headed up to the garage.

He was nearly halfway to Ianto's when the tracer started moving, so he settled down to follow. He suspected that he knew where Ianto would go, but you could never be sure of anything, particularly in Torchwood's world and the young man seemed to be determined to keep him on his toes.

They travelled out towards the Breacon Beacons, beyond where the incident with cannibals had occurred, and further north. Eventually Ianto started to slow down, Jack held back as the other vehicle drove through the narrow lane towards a small village and came to a stop.

It was little more than a hamlet, a huddle of a few houses, farms and a dilapidated church. He settled down and waited patiently to give Ianto some time to do whatever he was doing and made a quick call to Tosh to check that Owen was behaving himself.

He glanced at his watch, before getting out, locked the vehicle and pocketed the keys. A cold wind blew across the bare rocky landscape, flicking his coat around his ankles. He shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his trousers and strode determinedly down the lane. The place was silent, although he grinned because he was sure he noticed a few net curtains flickering. His presence would keep the village in gossip for months he thought to himself.

Ianto's car was parked outside a small single story stone cottage on the left side of the street. Jack stopped and leaned against the low, grey, stone wall opposite, arms crossed. His eyes were drawn to the worn blue garden gate and he contentedly watched it blowing in the wind banging repeatedly against the latch but never locking.

He looked up as a different sound drew his attention. Ianto stood on the doorstop, saying goodbye to an elderly man. Jack shook his head mentally reprimanding himself as his eyes unwittingly gravitated towards the younger man's denim clad ass; now's not the time, he said to himself silently.

Blue eyes watched as the young man glanced over his shoulder and started as he noticed Jack. He paused for a moment and continued his conversation. He seemed to come to an agreement then he gave the old man a brief hug and turned to leave.

Jack smiled as he met Ianto's icy grey eyes; he'd expected a cold, angry, reaction to his appearance, so it was no surprise. But, what did surprise him was the instant softening in the young man's look.

"Jack," he looked away from the searing blue eyes, "why are you here?"

"I've been worried about you, and then when you asked for the day off, I decided to satisfy my innate irresistible curiosity," he grinned.

They stood there in the middle of the road, Ianto looking at the ground, and Jack wanting him to look at him.

Ianto looked back at the house he'd just left.

"I come here every year on my Uncle's birthday, he's the only family I have left." He paused as his thoughts seemed to flip to another subject. "I have problems sleeping, a lot, I mentioned it to Uncle Steven, he caught me yawning, very impolite," he murmured almost to himself. "He told me that it was time I went to visit the churchyard."

The puzzled, childlike look on his face made Jack want to wrap him in his arms and magically wave all his worries away. Still, baby steps, Jack told himself.

He took Ianto by the hand.

"Let's go then," he said, pleased at the brief flicker of grateful acceptance that flew across the young man's face.

He let go of Ianto's hand and, side by side, they walked the brief distance to the Church. The rusty wrought iron gate screeched as Ianto pushed it open, the mournful noise fitting the gloomy grey clouds and cold wind, almost portentous of some forthcoming doom.

Jack followed the younger man into the overgrown churchyard. Brambles and long grass tugged and brushed at their trousers, but both men ignored it.

He came to a halt as Ianto stopped in front of a smooth grey headstone, almost entirely hidden by dense weeds.

"How do you know this is what your Uncle meant," Jack asked, calmly.

Ianto's eyes wavered with uncertainty.

"I have no idea," he replied, softly, wonderingly.

Jack looked at him briefly, before kneeling down in front of the stone. His big hands made short work of pulling the weeds out. Ianto stood like a statue, unmoving as Jack revealed the carved inscription.

There was a shake of the head.

"My sister, Jack?" there was the sound of a question and wonder in the whispered words.

Jack nodded his head, and stood, gathering Ianto in his arms, wrapping him in a hug.

Chapter 6 - Consternation

Jack led Ianto, arm around his bony shoulder, out of the dull, cold, windiness; into the shelter of the old Church. He settled them into a dusty pew at the back, Ianto sat not saying a word, unmoving staring but not seeing his tightly clasped hands held on his knee.

Jack looked around. A breeze blew through the broken windows, the small interior was covered in dust, and dirt and dead leaves, but it was dry and warm, and felt tranquil. He glanced back at the young man. Tranquil was certainly what they needed right now.

"Did your parents never mention her?" he asked quietly.

"No," Ianto replied dully, "they never mentioned much of anything, that I can remember."

Jack didn't reply. He was surprised that his staff never seemed to consider that he'd seen all of their personnel files, even the bits that they themselves didn't remember.

"After the crash I never asked, my grandparents never talked about them, and I didn't . . . ." he tailed off into silence.

Jack thought for a moment, remembering that Ianto's parents had been killed in a car crash and that the twelve year old boy had survived apparently without a single scratch. He'd then been sent to live with his maternal grandparents until he'd walked out at the age of eighteen, never to return.

"She must have died just before the crash," he looked up, tear filled grey eyes meeting Jack's blue ones. Jack nodded affirmatively.

"Sometimes, when I'm asleep I dream about this girl, with long dark curly hair," he hesitated, struggling to form the words in his mind. "Do you think that's her?" he asked wonderingly.

Jack laid his arm along the back of the pew, barely touching Ianto's jacket. He was aware that he had to tread very carefully regarding what he said.

"It could be her," he gave a small reassuring smile.

The big wooden door rattled and clanked in the wind.

"I want to remember Jack, I need to, now I know this it can't stop here," a fresh flood of tears ran down Ianto's pale cheeks.

Jack leaned forward and took the thin hand.

"Come on, I'll drive you back, you're in not state to drive yourself," he said firmly.

"My car . . . "

"Give me your key's, I'll get someone to bring it back," Jack replied.

Ianto handed over his car keys. Even if he'd been clear headed enough to ask, he knew simply to trust that he'd have his car back in Cardiff when he next needed it.

They left the Church, Jack carefully closing and bolting the door behind them. As they walked back down the street towards the SUV Jack again felt that they were being watched, this time from Ianto's Uncles house.

Jack paused as they reached Ianto's car. The younger man stood and watched, expressionless as he knelt down and put Ianto's car key's on top of the right hand front tyre hidden beneath the wheel arch.

He got out his phone and sent a quick text message before turning to Ianto.

"It'll be back by this evening," he smiled.

Ianto shook his head, as if his car was insignificant. Maybe it was Jack thought. He glanced with open curiosity at the young man who held such a strange fascination for him, yet at the same time was still an almost complete enigma.

He took Ianto's hand, as if he was a child, and led him down the lane and round the corner to the entrance to the track, where he'd parked the SUV. Settling the young man into the passenger seat he fastened his safety belt and slipped in the other side, wrapping his long coat around himself.

With an almost unnatural ease he turned the big black vehicle around before heading back onto the Beacons, towards Cardiff.

Both men were silent during the journey back, Jack kept giving Ianto fleeing glances, but the young man had his head turned away, eyes blankly looking out of the window at the passing bleak landscape.

It was only midday when they reached the outskirts of Cardiff and Jack knew that there was a high likelihood that either Gwen, Tosh or Owen would be in The Hub. Although he'd not got any phone calls, Tosh at least would probably have gone into work on a Saturday.

"Ianto, I'll take you home, the other's will probably be in."

Ianto turned to look at him, grey eyes assessing everything, as if he was seeing Jack for the first time. The older man raised an eyebrow questioningly, the look had made him feel strangely naked. No not strange he thought to himself more odd. He admonished himself for the path his mind was taking.

The younger man seemed to come to some sort of internal resolution, as if deciding that Jack was the right person to help him down this difficult path his life had taken.

"Ok," he said, eyes turning blank once more as he turned back to the window, now filled with suburban streets rather than the empty moors of the Beacons.

Ten minutes later Jack was inserting the SUV into a parking space which seemed far too small. Somehow he managed it though, and gave himself a small smile of satisfaction as he switched off the engine.

"Come on Ianto, you're home. Keys?" he held out his hand, as they walked through the entrance way of the apartment block and up to Ianto's flat.

Ianto fished around in his coat pocket and handed Jack a small bunch of keys on a ring decorated with a little silver coloured metal dragon. The older man unlocked the door, quickly switching off the alarm. He knew the codes to all the Torchwood employee's alarm systems, and had their front door keys too. He simply felt it was more polite to ask for the keys even given Ianto's current shocked state.

He moved through to the immaculate living room, glancing back to make sure the other man was following.

"Sit down," he indicated the large comfortable black leather sofa. "I'm going to make some coffee."

"I can do that," Ianto replied brokenly.

"Sit," Jack said, as if to a misbehaving child, "my coffee's perfectly good you know."

He glanced back as he said it, and was surprised, and pleased, to see a faint hint of a smile on the young man's face.

"I know Sir."

Chapter 7 - Inception

Jack could feel Ianto's eyes on him, watching his every move as he made two mugs of coffee. That was good he thought to himself, he was focusing on something other than the recent discoveries.

He grinned as he placed the mugs on the dark wood coffee table, and shrugged off his coat, slinging it over the back of the sofa.

He settled down at the opposite end from Ianto, near enough to show support, but far enough away to give Ianto some space. He knew the young man could be touchy about his personal space.

"So you don't remember anything?" Jack asked seriously, his voice devoid of its usual ever present amusement.

Ianto looked up, glancing at Jack before looking away.

"I dream, sometimes of a little girl, with long dark wavy hair," his voice drifted into nothing. "I dream of other things too," his eyes met Jack's briefly, and he winced as he remembered last night's dreams. "Horrible things I just have this feeling . . ." He paused in his train of thought, stopping himself from carrying it on, "every year they get worse and then they stop."

"I'd noticed," Jack said calmly. He heard Ianto sigh in reply, annoyed with himself as he realised that he'd not hidden it as well as he'd hoped he had. He sat, quietly, calmly, watching the younger man. The traffic and noise of the outside world was barely audible which surprised him, but it was good, it provided silence to think.

"You need to decide what you want to do now," he stood up, and moved to sit on the coffee table, immediately opposite Ianto. The younger man looked at him, a brief flash of irritation in his eyes. Excellent, Jack thought to himself.

"What do you think I should do then Jack?" frustration and anger flooding through the other man's voice. "What does the great Captain Jack Harkness think I should do about the sister I never knew I had?" Too tired and too confused to hide his hurt any more fury coloured his words, before he leaned back, closing his eyes in exhaustion.

"I can't tell you, not about this, but then you know that," Jack replied, a hint of reprimand in his voice.

"I've got to find out about her, I can't not now," he paused, "can I?" The words were pleading, but at the same time he knew once again that Jack couldn't provide the answer.

Jack stayed silent not needing to reply to the rhetorical question, he was aware that Ianto knew he only had himself to convince. He moved his hands to rest them on Ianto's knees. He could feel the warmth flooding through his hands, up his arms to the rest of his body.

"I'll help you, but you need to make the big decision," Jack said, quietly.

Ianto opened his eyes and met Jack's, then they flicked away, as if still trying to convince himself that he was doing the right thing.

He looked back at Jack again.

"Help me find out what happened to my sister, and why I can't remember anything about her."

Jack smiled as Ianto wriggled forward and sat up, coming to rest his hands on top of Jack's, as if affirming Jack's silent confirmation, that how could he ever have thought that he wouldn't help.

Ianto looked wrung out, not surprising, Jack thought to himself.

"You need a nap," he said firmly. "I've got some things at The Hub that you need to see, later, when the rest of the gang have left."

"I can't sleep, when I do I always have nightmares at the moment." The young man mumbled, almost to himself.

"Come on," Jack said, sliding his hands from under Ianto's thinner, smaller ones. He stood, legs touching the younger man's knees and taking one hand he pulled Ianto gently to his feet and led him through to the bedroom.

Immaculately tidy as always, it showed no sign of the young man's sleepless nights. He pushed Ianto to sit down on the creaseless dark cream duvet cover, and knelt on the floor. He untied Ianto's boots, and then his own, before throwing his phone on the bed and placing his holster next to his boots on the floor.

Jack clambered onto the middle of the bed. It would be more comfortable without clothes, he thought, but now was not the right time. Now the younger man needed rest and comfort.

"Here Ianto," he reached over and touched a tense shoulder.

Grey eyes met his, he heard a quiet, pain filled sigh. The bed moved as Ianto climbed up, and settled, lying beside where Jack was sitting.

The small gap between them felt like a chasm.

Jack smirked, and pulled Ianto into his arms as if he were no heavier than a child.

"How can I drive away your nightmares if you're there and I'm here," he laughed gently.

Ianto said nothing, but huffed softly and nestled deeper into Jack's arms.

"You promise?" Ianto looked up, a touch of fear in his eyes.

"Can't do that," Jack said sadly, "but it will help, that I do promise."

Ianto said nothing, but closed his eyes and laid his head back down.

They stayed like that for a couple of hours. Ianto slept in Jack's arms occasionally wriggling and mumbling to himself, but there were no big nightmares that Jack could tell.

The older man spent the time running over what had happened, and what he knew. He had long ago learned not to anticipate what might happen, but with Ianto lying in his arms, he couldn't help but run a few unfortunate scenarios through his head

Jack heard his phone ring. He answered it to hear Gwen telling him that her Owen and Tosh were going home for the day. She tried, unsubtly, to find out what he was doing, but he evaded her questions with practiced ease and told her to get going herself.

He hung up, and looked down to see a pair of sleepy grey eyes looking up at him, questioning.

"Gwen,"

Ianto simply gave a small smile.

"Thank you," he said quietly.

"Any time," Jack grinned, he couldn't help himself.

Ianto rolled away and got up.

"I'm going for a shower," he said, not looking at Jack as he walked into the bathroom.

The shower refreshed Ianto, and woke him up. It didn't ease his mind very much though, still filled with tumbling thoughts and questions about his family and his past. He was grateful to Jack, and there were other feelings mixed up with the gratefulness, but he didn't want to think about them at the moment, there would be time for that later.

He turned off the shower and stepped out, wrapping himself in a towel he walked through to the bedroom. The room was empty and the bed was made perfectly. His heart started to race, where was Jack! But then he heard a noise and looked through the open door into the living room. He saw Jack walking back towards him, carrying two mugs of coffee.

He smiled to himself, he was still here, he hadn't gone, then he turned away, looking for clean clothes to wear.

Chapter 8 – Incensed

Jack looked through to the bedroom, watching as Ianto struggled to decide what to wear. Flicking through the contents of his wardrobe from one immaculate suit to another.

"Jeans," Jack called through.

Ianto turned, a faintly horrified look on his face.

"I can't wear jeans into the office."

Jack gave him a slightly mournful look his full lips pouting.

"Ok, ok," Ianto sighed, it wasn't like he could make the decision himself at the moment anyway. He turned back, swiftly retrieving a pair of jeans, a t-shirt and long-sleeved top.

Fifteen minutes later as they were getting into the SUV Ianto noticed that his car was parked in its usual place.

"Thank you," he said.

Jack looked up.

"Oh, your car," he grinned, "not a problem."

They sped through the quietening streets of Cardiff. Even Jack's hair-raising driving, which Ianto had long ago gotten used to despite their regular bickering over it, didn't serve to calm his churning mind.

The short period of sleep had not solved any of his problems, not that he'd thought it would. It would have been nice, though he felt, if it had served to ease his confusion and upset slightly.

Jack pulled the vehicle, tyres screaming into The Hub garage.

"It doesn't help our anonymity at all when you drive like that," Ianto commented once again as he got out, and headed down into The Hub.

Jack simply laughed in reply. A more serious look suddenly falling over his face, as his mind re-focused on the reason why they were here.

"Ianto," he called over towards where the young man was standing looking with disdain and disgust on his face at Owen's rubbish covered workstation.

"Mmm, yes Sir."

"Come on, my office," he paused, "I'll get the coffee."

Ianto's worried face lit up with a smile.

"I'll get the coffee Sir," he replied firmly.

Jack nodded and headed to his office. Shrugging off his coat, he hung it up. Glancing through the glass walls to where Ianto was walking back with two steaming mugs of coffee, he sighed. Never one to shrink from difficult or unpopular choices he still knew that this would be hard on both of them. Over the last 24 hours he'd felt his relationship with Ianto shift, to a new starting point and was loath to risk that, but he hoped and believed that it would survive the tough discoveries he knew Ianto would make.

"Sit," Jack said giving him a gentle smile.

"Won't we need the computer?"

"No, we won't," he replied, softly.

It still shocked Jack to see the shutters come down in the deep grey eyes, emotions violently and suddenly pushed away and boxed up.

He moved round, leant back on the edge of the desk facing Ianto, their knees touching.

"I have files about all of you that even you don't know about. Each and every one of you, that I've put together myself, even UNIT doesn't have this information," he paused thinking for a second, "well it may, but it didn't get it from me."

"No, no, no" Ianto whispered quietly, shaking his head knowing where this was going, "you knew all this, about my sister, and all these empty spaces in my head, all . . . . "

He looked up at Jack, unadulterated fury flashing from his eyes.

"You FUCKING knew about her and never . . . " he screamed at Jack before the words slowed to silence, only broken by the faint humming of machinery.

"You, of all people know I couldn't tell you," pure calm flowed through Jack's logical words. "We all have secrets, some are our own, some belong to others, but we must still hold our tongues."

Ianto stood suddenly pushing the chair away, ice and steel spitting from his lips, his hands went to Jack's shoulders pushing him back. Sadness at the events of the last day turned now to anger.

"That was a low blow Jack," he said, roughly.

"I know," was the confident drawled reply.

Ianto wandered over to the big wall-safe and fiddled with the locks; all the while he could feel Jack's eyes on him, burning into his back. Anger was still boiling through his veins, at the knowledge Jack had hidden this from him, at the same time the cold logic that was so much an integral part of him was telling him that he shouldn't have been surprised, that he should be relieved that Jack could help him and had what he needed to know at his fingertips, that the other man was right. In his heart of hearts of course he knew. His fingers fumbled with the dials that he was usually able to open with such precision and speed.

"Show me," he said, shortly. Turning back without looking at him he sat back down in the chair.

Jack opened the safe and retrieved a fat brown covered file. Ianto Jones was written in the top right hand corner, thick black letters in Jack's distinctive cursive script.

He placed the file gently in Ianto's lap.

"It won't answer everything, but it will fill in a lot of holes." He let go of it and stepped back.

"Ianto," Jack waited as a pair of turbulent grey eyes looked up at him.

"I haven't looked at it since you joined here, but if you can forgive me for keeping it from you, I'll help you find the answers you need after you've read this. If you want."

The young man looked at the file lying in his lap, indecision warred with anger and need.

"Go Jack, let me read. I'll find you once I've done," the words were dull and subdued, but more understanding than Jack expected at this point.

Chapter 9 - Destruction

As he started to read the papers in the file, all the surrounding sounds of The Hub at night died away. All that existed in his mind were the printed words in front of him.

The first page contained what he expected, a copy of his birth certificate, Ianto David Jones, born, 25th July 1979. Following this there were a few sheets of paper covered in Jack's beautiful writing containing names of people who were noted as his parent's friends, there were scans of photographs with names and a few dates scribbled on the back. He was in a few of them, always held in his mother's arms, his parents had happy smiles on their faces. He fished through the few memories of them in his head but he couldn't remember them smiling.

He read everything, every word, every conjunction. All of it filling in the big empty holes in his mind. He'd never been concerned about them in the past, he assumed that everyone was the same, that people didn't remember their childhood other than with the odd flicker of memory. People had never asked him much about it and so he'd never struggled to remember. He'd passed the psych assessment for Torchwood 1 without a problem, it never occurred to him that they would have had a file like this, although he doubted that he went into the intricate details that Jack's was seeming to, such as his mother's favourite flower being a breed of old English Rose, and his favourite toy as a child being a small blue bear called Toby. It was so maddeningly familiar, this feeling that others knew more about him than he did himself. Somehow with Jack it had always been like that, but he'd found it comforting, mostly, rather than frustrating. Now though, as he read he felt an anger building inside him once again, a feeling of being an outsider in his own life.

He turned a page, and came upon another birth certificate, so similar to his own, only his eyes moved as he read the words on the red and cream piece of paper. The name was the same one that he and Jack had read on the gravestone hours earlier. Moira Francis Jones, born on the 10th of June 1981, more copies of photographs followed. Now it was Moira held in his mother's arms, in some of the photo's he was standing in front of his father a skinny curly haired little boy, then gradually he was in fewer of the pictures. Details of his schools and school reports showed that he was a clever child, a note from one of his junior school teachers made a point of saying that he could be 'difficult and uncommunicative,' this was followed by some rather decorative exclamation marks' of Jack's. He couldn't help but give a small involuntary smile at his boss's annotation.

It seemed that Jack had collected together everything he could about the two of them. Moira's school reports showed the difference between the two siblings, stating that she was a very popular girl, but needed to spend more time working and less chatting.

Included were a couple of hospital reports, one mentioned that he'd been taken there from school after getting into a fight. A note, by someone, it didn't mention who, stated that he had told the staff that he'd been defending his sister.

There were notes about the holidays the family had gone on, pictures showing their parents playing, almost always with his sister and not with him. In amongst these though there were two which seemed to have been taken by someone else; there were the faint figures of their parents in the background. It showed Ianto, with his arm round his sister, grinning a genuine look of joy on his face, and her eyes riveted on his, the other showed her giggling, while he tickled her. They were older in these pictures, he wasn't quite sure how old though.

For the first time since he'd started reading he felt tears prickle at the corners of his eyes. He'd loved his sister, that much was clear, from the photo's and also from the feeling inside him when he looked at them and read about her, a burgeoning feeling of warmth filled him when he looked at Moira's image and when he thought about her.

How much would he find out about her he wondered; there were some odd little notes that Jack had scribbled in the margins from time to time, like 'favourite book Heidi,' that Ianto appreciated and it made him smile that he'd found the little things too, that a lot of people may not have thought about. Jack was so complicated.

He picked his coffee up and took a sip, it was a lot cooler, but still not too bad. The pause helped him take stock of what he'd learned up to this point. His sister was becoming a more rounded figure in his mind, he knew now that the little girl of his dreams was definitely Moira, it was pleasant to feel that there was a certainty that had grown out of the vast depth of unknowing which he had felt when sitting with the unopened file on his lap.

Turning over the page his eyes widened, a combination of horror and fear shot through him. It was a faded, but still legible copy, of a report from Carmarthenshire Police.

A middle aged man had been pulled over at a regular Police traffic stop for driving erratically, the bodies of two children had been discovered in the boot of the car, the 10yr old girl Moira Jones was pronounced dead at the scene, the twelve old boy, Ianto was taken to hospital unconscious suffering from the effects of physical and sexual abuse.

Ianto dropped the file on the floor and hand over his mouth, he ran to the toilet and threw up what little food and drink was in his stomach. As he knelt on the cold floor, whitened knuckles gripping the ceramic rim of the toilet bowl he felt a cool hand, smooth calming strokes gently over his hair before another hand held out a glass of water.

"Thank you," he croaked up at Jack.

The older man said nothing, simply handing him a warm damp cloth to wipe his face.

"I won't ask how you feel; what are you going to do now?" Jack sounded as though he knew what the answer would be, almost before he finished asking the question.

"I need to carry on reading," Ianto said hoarsely, a single tear running down his cheek. He looked away, and felt a tender finger wipe away the tear.

"I understand," Jack replied, stroking a hand down Ianto's cheek.

The younger man looked down at the floor before turning to go. Returning to Jack's study he was somewhat relieved to see that the papers had stayed in one pile. He picked them up and placed the ones he'd read on the desk, leaving the police report on top.

Gritting his teeth he started reading. It seemed that their parents had reported them missing twelve hours before the car had been stopped and they had been found. The coroners report on the next page stated that Ianto had probably been lying next to his sisters dead body for a couple of hours. Further reports from the Police and the Crown Prosecution Service showed that Clarke had kept them both at his house for a few hours, drugged and mutilated them before sexually assaulting Moira and then him. The intricately detailed reports drew him to read every word, the horrors of what Clarke had done to them revolted him, but he had to read it, to know what had happened.

Clarke had got 15 years in prison for what he'd done to them. Not nearly enough Ianto thought to himself.

The CPS report detailed the trauma suffered by the young Ianto, apparently the only words he'd said for months were "Couldn't save her."

Underneath the final court reports was another police report and hospital report. The police had been called by a neighbour to their house after hearing yelling and screams. His father had been arrested and later released without charge, Ianto had been taken to the hospital and kept in overnight with minor head injuries and a broken cheekbone and ankle.

Then six weeks later his parents were killed in a car accident, Ianto, a passenger in the back of the car had escaped without any visible injury. Knowing what he'd gone through Social Services had sent him for a psychiatric assessment, all they had been able to find out was that he seemed to have suffered almost total loss of memory regarding all the members of his family. The psychiatrist reported that it was probably his way of protecting himself, and because he'd started to talk again they took little notice of it.

He steadily read the other pieces of paper, regarding his progress through Foster Care, school, College, University and then Torchwood 1. He knew most of the rest of the contents and it didn't interest him quite so much, but as he was flicking through he caught a glimpse of another court report detailing Clarke's release from Prison. He sat and looked at it not knowing how he should feel about it. He'd known nothing of this man until a short time ago, but now he was the man who'd destroyed his life, stolen it away from him, and taken his sister and his parents.

He closed the file, placing it neatly on top of the other papers on the desk. Bowing his head on his arms he silently wept, for his sister, his parents, himself and the childhood he'd never realised he'd lost.

Jack stood in the doorway of his office watching, a terrible sadness on his face.

Chapter 10 - Volatile

Jack watched, giving Ianto some time to cry himself out. As the tears lessened he came up and knelt next to the chair. He stroked the soft dark hair soothingly, just as he had done earlier in the bathroom.

An element of uncertainty still flowed through him, he wasn't sure what would happen now. He'd built up this file over many years, starting when Ianto was hired, and he'd kept it from him, as he had kept all their files from them. Truthfully for a long time he'd remembered very little of its contents, only the bare outlines, it was enough to know that he had it to refer back to if needed, he didn't need to remember everything in it. It was only a few weeks ago that a memory of a name had triggered a need for him to read the file once again, cover to cover.

He'd consumed an entire bottle of very expensive Single Malt Whisky that evening; it only slightly dulled the pain of the feelings he'd got by reading about Ianto's childhood.

He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and slipped it into a cool damp hand. Ianto didn't make a sound, but he lifted his head fractionally and wiped his eyes and nose.

He could feel the tightly wound self control, the shield Ianto had round his emotions.

"You knew, you knew all this time," a combination of incredulousness and icy anger filled his voice. "Of course you knew," he murmured to himself shaking his head.

Jack watched, trying to decide what he should do. He wanted to stop the deterioration of their friendship, he had learned to value it, it was more important to him than he'd care to admit to anyone, other than maybe Ianto himself.

"Do you think that will fill in the holes of what you remember," he asked.

"I believe I was doing perfectly well with the holes in my memories Sir," was the spiteful reply.

Jack was grateful that Ianto wasn't looking at him; he struggled to hide a grin at the venom in the reply. Anger was good, it was a useful emotion, as he'd learned a long long time ago, but it wasn't something Ianto seemed to be generally comfortable with.

Finally a pair of tear filled grey eyes looked up at him, full of sadness but also with an element of understanding; Jack held the gaze, and stroked a consoling finger down a damp, soft cheek. He was pleased when Ianto didn't pull away, or flinch.

"You were, you did very well, but now you know what was missing, which is important." He said firmly. "Everything that happened is what's made you you. The enigmatic Ianto Jones." Jack smiled.

"I'm tired," Ianto said, quietly, like a small child. It was as though what he'd read had finally tapped the last reserves of strength left after the broken nights of the last few weeks.

"Come on, time for tired boys to go to bed," Jack's irrepressible humour breaking through the slowly lessening tension. Ianto gave him a puzzled look.

"No kinkiness now Jack, I'm too tired," he said seriously.

Jack led him carefully down the ladder to his bedroom, he sat him on the edge of the bed and removed his boots before lifting the long denim clad legs onto the bed. Ianto lay there, silent, watching him, as he turned to leave.

"Jack, I don't want to be on my own, please," it was barely more than a whisper, exhaustion flooded through every word, but the grey eyes were wide and full of apprehension.

He came back and sat on the edge of the bed, pressed up against Ianto's legs.

"I need to make a couple of calls and lock up, no more than five minutes," he said calmly.

"Promise?"

"I promise," he said with a smile before standing to leave.

He could feel Ianto's eyes on him as he climbed out. As promised he swiftly went to do what he needed to; multitasking, he logged onto a computer and started checking the security and Hub access points, he picked up a phone and called Tosh, no doubt in his mind that she'd still be up at this time, but if she wasn't he'd leave a message.

She answered the phone after the second ring.

"Don't you ever sleep?"

"Touché Jack," was the smart reply.

He laughed.

"Would you pick up clean clothes for Ianto on your way in later?"

"Is he ok?" concern immediately showed in her voice.

"He will be," Jack reassured her.

Part 11 – Exposure

The weeks following the discoveries and revelations by Ianto about his family continued to all appearances as normal.

Ianto's usual nature was that of hiding his feelings, it was what he did and it was a sign of the enormity of his discoveries that the others only occasionally felt what it was like to be on the other end of one of his rare bursts of anger and frustration.

Despite frequent indications to the contrary Jack was a patient man. He knew that Ianto had to come to him; he simply gave the younger man an occasional reminder that when he had done some processing of his thoughts he would be there, if Ianto wanted.

Jack did get endless amusement at Owen's genuine shock, when one scarcastic comment too many led to him being flung across the Medical bay and held up against the wall by his throat by a furious Ianto, although he didn't really help his cause much when once released he joked about coffee boy's and hormones. Only Jack dragging Ianto out complaining about how difficult it would be to get a new medic, helped him that day.

Gwen was told in a very icy manner to keep her nose out of business that didn't belong to her and only Tosh didn't feel the full wrath of Ianto. She clearly knew that something was wrong after being asked by Jack to bring Ianto clean clothes the day after he'd found out about his family. So Ianto in fairness was more tolerant of her concern, he simply said he was fine, and apologised for being short with everyone and Tosh said nothing more about it.

Jack carried on watching and waiting for Ianto to break, to need him again. It didn't take much longer.

Tosh was re-examining the cuff they'd found round 'warehouse guy's' wrist a few weeks ago. Ianto strode over, a tray with two remaining mugs of coffee in his hand, he set it down beside a pile of papers and perched on the edge of the desk watching as she worked. She looked up at him curiously he simply gave her a small smile and got a tiny grin and a nod in return.

It wasn't like watching Jack work, which he also did whenever he could, he could just about recall what calmness felt like as he watched Tosh's long fingers at work, running over the artefact and her keyboard at a blistering speed. Whenever he watched Jack in the same way, it sent shivers down his spine and it brought on feelings that he'd been considering doing something about before all the recent personal issues cropped up.

He picked the cuff up, turning it over in his hand. Now he knew where the clasp was it was easy to find, he flicked it open, looking up as Tosh mumbled something to herself. She looked at him and put her hand out to take the cuff back off him. As she did so Ianto's fingers caught it and it snapped into place around both their wrists.

Tosh let out a cry of surprise as mass of dark, painful, confusing emotions hit her mind. Ianto felt her logical, but lonely thoughts dancing on the edges of his mind, but his own amplified emotions overwhelmed everything else with a wave of darkness.

"No, no, no, " he cried, involuntary tears running down his face, as he realised what he was doing; that the wristband as well as amplifying the emotions of a single user allowed joint users to share their emotions.

Jack had been sitting quietly at his desk reading the weekly report from UNIT, when he heard a cry, and knew something was wrong.

At Tosh's workstation he found her and Ianto joined at the wrist by the cuff they'd found on the man in the warehouse a few weeks ago. Ianto had tears running down his face, and was mumbling 'no' over and over again, Tosh was silent and white as a sheet, her finger fumbling with the clasp as her eyes looked blankly at theirs wrists.

Jack gently held their wrists as his fingers swiftly unlocked the cuff. He dropped it on the desk, sat on the floor, gathering a sobbing, shaking Ianto into his lap, and wrapping one free arm around Tosh. He stroked Ianto's arm soothingly, rocking him gently like an injured child, he kissed Tosh softly on the head.

"What happened?" he asked her quietly.

It took a few moments for her to gather her scattered thoughts and form some coherence, before she managed to tell Jack what had happened. He nodded, and looked at her a rarely seen look of seriousness on his face.

"How're you doing?" he asked.

She shook her head as if trying to clear her thoughts again, and looked down at the still sobbing figure of Ianto, curled puppy-like in Jack's lap.

"Scared, for him," she said quietly, nodding at Ianto. "It's so overwhelming for him, but it was emotions, not thoughts, I just. . . " she stopped, trying to decide what to say.

"Look after him Jack," tear filled dark eyes looked up at Jack's bright blue ones.

He stroked a hand down her face, smiled and nodded.

"I think you should go home, get some rest, all those foreign emotions wear you out. Trust me, I know."

Tosh didn't look surprised; she knelt up on the floor, and kissed Ianto's cool clammy forehead.

She stood up, holding onto the desk to steady herself before gathering her belongings together. Slipping into her coat she picked up a laptop and glanced down at the two men.

Jack looked up at her and smiled.

"I'll call you later, to make certain you're ok," he said quietly so as not to disturb Ianto who seemed to be calming finally.

"You don't have to Jack," she said, dismissing any problems she might have as insignificant in the face of what she suspected Ianto's were.

"Indulge me," he grinned, "you know I always get what I want in the end."

Tosh couldn't help but give a soft giggle at the innuendo in the innocent statement of fact.

"Ok, you win," she had a serious, sad look on her face as he glanced down at Ianto once more, before giving Jack a nod and turning to leave.

Jack sat quietly, stroking Ianto's arm, listening to the humming of machines in The Hub until he heard the big door roll closed behind Tosh.

He gently shook the younger man, trying to rouse him. Ianto suddenly jerked awake

"Jack? what, oh no!" he looked up at the shining blue eyes and his started to fill with tears as he remembered what he had just felt. All his despair, sadness, frustration and anger amplified a hundred times, and, he just remembered, shared with Tosh.

"How's Tosh?" he asked, in barely more than a whisper.

"Come on Ianto, let's go downstairs. I think you need to talk about some things, even if you're tired." Jack said, firmly.

Ianto squirmed unconsciously in Jack's lap, prompting Jack to bite his lip in frustration. Now was REALLY not the time he thought to himself.

"Don't want to Jack," Ianto replied, his Welsh accent strengthened by heightened emotions.

"You've lost your choice with this Ianto, you've been sniping at everyone this week, you even had to apologise to Tosh because of it. You're not going to disrupt things any more, you're going to accept the help I offered you," he pressed a kiss to the curly dark hair. "Ok?"

Ianto pressed his face to Jack's now damp shirt, and murmured his assent.

Chapter 12 - Possibility

Jack managed to get Ianto down to his room, he considered pointing out how cute he found the younger man when he pouted and sulked, but common sense overrode the other feelings for once.

He settled Ianto on his bed, leaning back against the wall, and removed the young man's immaculately polished shoes.

"Stay here, I'm going to get coffee," he said, firmly. Ianto replied with an icy glare and silence, which simply drew raised eyebrows from Jack.

It didn't take Jack long to fetch two steaming mugs of coffee. He handed one to Ianto, who took a careful sip.

"It's good," was the quiet, reluctant comment.

"Your secret stash," Jack gave a cheeky grin.

"It's still good," was the reply, accompanied by a very very faint smile.

"They blamed me," Ianto continued, looking down at his hands wrapped round the hot mug.

"Of course they did," Jack said, and decided to go for the jugular, letting out his inner 'nasty Jack'.

"Did you blame yourself for Lisa's death?" he said, cuttingly.

"Yes," and then Ianto paused, realising the immediate logic of Jack's point and what he'd just said.

"You're a bastard," he continued, eyes, flashing icy fire.

Jack was the one who did most of the talking; Ianto listened with occasional interjections. He pointed out that Ianto would have been suffering from survivor's guilt from when he was a child. That he knew deep inside him that his sister's death wasn't his fault, even if he couldn't remember anything about it.

They talked about Ianto's childhood, being moved between foster homes because people didn't want to deal with a clever but uncommunicative and rather obsessive child. About how he managed to find his Uncle, the one who Jack had seen him with that day out in the Beacons, and how he wasn't really sure how to relate to the old man, even though he wanted to.

Eventually they ended up, with Ianto wrapped in his arms. Jack liked the feeling and although he knew that Ianto was more than capable of looking after himself he wanted to take advantage of this opportunity to look after someone who needed it, even if only for a short while.

Jack knew how short life was, for everyone but him and a few others. At times like this, when he felt relatively content with his life he wished he could bottle the feeling, storing it forever. This clever young Welshman, with the cutting, black humour had sneaked up on him, quite an achievement against someone with his extensive experience of people.

"I need to find where they're buried," the lilting words cut through Jack's introspection.

"We should be able to do that quite easily, you could do that without my help."

"I'd like your help though," Ianto looked up, a smile that reached his eyes finally breaking through. "I want to go home and change," he grimaced at the realisation that his clothes were all creased and he'd been in them all day.

Jack laughed.

"You can access all you need to from your computers at home can't you?" he asked.

Ianto nodded.

"I'll come with you if you want," Jack said, wanting to be with Ianto as much as possible while he went through these discoveries.

"Ok," the young man smiled.

Half an hour later found the two men at Ianto's flat. Ianto had driven his own car and Jack had brought the SUV; wanting to make sure that the other man still felt that he had his own space.

Ianto indicated for Jack to help himself to a drink while he had a shower and changed, and a short time later the two men could be found ensconced in one of the two spare bedrooms, which Ianto had made into a study.

As the computer was booting up Jack looked around. This was one room he'd never been into; as impersonal as the rest of the flat it was filled with high-end computer equipment and books.

"Very Tosh, well apart from the books. Owen would be surprised if he saw it," Jack said, as he took a sip of coffee.

"Owen is never going to set foot in my flat," Ianto laughed softly.

Jack watched Ianto's slim fingers fly over the keys. He stood behind him, hands resting gently on the broad bony t-shirt clad shoulders, feeling warmth pass between them.

It didn't take the young man long to find what they were looking for. He found the record of his parents' deaths on 21 November 1991 at Carmarthen Hospital. The Parish Register for the City stated their cremation was five days later.

"Do you want to go to Carmarthen?" Jack stated questioningly, as he pressed a kiss to the damp hair.

He could almost feel the wheels of thought turning in Ianto's mind.

"No," he said, sadly, "I don't want to know any more, not yet."

Ianto sat, staring at the screen, saying nothing, just feeling Jack's warm hands on his shoulders.

"I'm going to go to bed," he said, standing up. He could feel Jack's eyes looking him over, in a silent assessment.

"Thank you Jack, for being with me, to do all this." He looked up at the older man, eyes moving from the artfully tousled hair, to the amazing, shining blue eyes which sent shivers down his spine as always.

Ianto stepped up to him, wrapped his hands round Jack's head and placed a gentle kiss on the full lips, before letting go.

"Was that just gratitude?" Jack didn't like having to ask, but the young man had already wormed his way into his heart to such and extent that he needed to know where he stood. Now seemed as good a time as any to ask.

Ianto was startled by the sudden show of vulnerability revealed by Jack's question.

"No, it was something I've been hiding away along with everything else, trying to convince myself that there was never a right time," he ran a hand down the side of Jack's face.

"I was right, there never is a right time, and I have less left to lose now than ever," he pulled his hand away hesitantly, still unsure.

Jack smiled, that brilliant, gleaming, Harkness smile.

"You're losing nothing Ianto. Maybe gaining slowly."

"I'm glad," he said quietly smiling.

Jack pressed a returning kiss to the young man's lips.

"See you in the morning," he said picking up his coat and slipping it on. He turned and blew Ianto a kiss before striding out of the flat coat flowing behind him.

The young man switched off his computer and walked through to the bedroom, flicking lights off as he went. He brushed his teeth and slipped out of his clothes, folding them neatly before slipping under the covers.

As he lay there in the darkness, he ran over the events of the day, Tosh, the cuff, Jack, his parents; he closed his eyes and wondered how long it was going to be before the nightmares took over again.

Chapter 13 - Connection

In his dreams he was watching, pinned to the wall, as his sister was dragged across the floor, beaten, raped. Burning tears poured down his cut and bruised face, he tried to scream but no sound came out through the dirty smelly gag that had been forced into his mouth.

His mind flicked to another scene, like a changed channel on the TV, and once again he was in The Hub's basement, with a dark-haired man, bound and laid out for him. He held a knife while Jack lounged smiling by the door, as a feeling rushed through him of wanting and needing to cause the man pain. He pressed the knife in and pleasure rushed through him followed by a sudden icy realisation of what he was doing.

Ianto woke with a gasp. He could feel beads of sweat running down his forehead, his heart racing with the terror of his nightmares.

The second dream was one that had been repeating itself periodically over the last month and it was the presence of Jack in it that kept bringing it back into more vivid reality than any of the others, which sat quietly in his mind once he'd calmed down after waking. This one took longer to settle.

He and the other man were the connections between the dreams. His mind drifted as he gradually calmed down, staring up at the white, flat ceiling above his bed, but flashes of his little sister kept appearing in his mind.

All sense of calm vanished with one revolting image in his mind. He didn't know any longer what was dream and what was memory, he ran to the bathroom, retching, trying to empty his already empty stomach.

Half an hour later Ianto was showered and as immaculately dressed as always. The pink shirt and pink and blue tie partially hiding his paleness, although he knew that Jack was bound to pick up on it. What he'd do about it he really didn't know at the moment, but wished he did, the uncertainty was just another added concern.

As he drove towards The Hub, through Cardiff's light early morning traffic, a nagging little spike of feeling kept intruding on his thoughts. All logical sense and the chat he'd had yesterday was being sidelined inside his head.

He was responsible for his sister's death, the voice inside his head wouldn't stop telling him that, despite all attempts of the usually stronger logical side of his mind trying to point out that, of course he wasn't responsible.

Jack saw as soon as Ianto walked in that something was wrong, but he did his job as efficiently as usual, handing out coffee's, tidying the worst of the mess off Owen's workstations and having a quiet conversation with Tosh.

Jack had called her last night once he got back from Ianto's. She'd recovered mostly ok other than still having an overwhelming concern for the younger man. Jack knew that that could either continue or wane, either way they would work it out .

He sat and watched them talking and wondered whether Ianto's special connection with Tosh was an unconscious attempt to have a sister figure in his life, that thought in turn led Jack to Lisa.

"Ianto," he called.

The younger man turned round, even from this distance Jack could see the look of comprehension flash across his face, that he wanted to know what was wrong.

"Sir," the young man shut the door behind him.

"Tell me," Jack said, as he held the tired grey eyes.

He watched as Ianto's impassive face almost hid his decision making process.

"I should have been able to save her, I was her big brother, I keep going over and over that in my head while I'm awake, and in my dreams when I'm asleep," he sighed and Jack watched him look away.

"You know how impossible that was though, you read through your lists of injuries."

The words made Ianto squirm uncomfortably in the chair.

"In my dreams I know that I should be saving her, then our parents wouldn't have held me responsible, and hated me and maybe they'd all be alive today ," Ianto hid his face in his hands.

"And then you wouldn't have held yourself responsible," Jack paused, "you've carried on trying to save her all your life, it's time to stop, to start forgiving yourself."

"I failed there too. You shot her," Ianto replied with icy acceptance, knowing without hesitation that Jack was referring to Lisa

"Touché," Jack replied offhandedly.

"I know too many of your methods now Jack."

"Damn, and here I was thinking I knew how to easily get you riled up," he grinned.

"You're right though. You generally are. If you can forgive me for what happened, maybe I should consider trying to forgive myself," he gave Jack a hesitant look, "it will be hard though."

The alarms went off and Owen called through to them; work took over. Ianto was turning to leave, already running through the mental organiser in his head.

"Ianto, you'll be all right?" Jack called out, needing to check.

The young man turned smiling, a small smile, but a true one.

"Of course Sir. Thank you."

Baby steps towards healing had started, but Jack knew that it would take the young man a very very long time. Ianto had taken the first hesitant steps towards working through some aspects of the discovering that he had made, although it would take years, if ever, before he came to any sense of peace regarding his past.

Later that day once humankind had been saved once again, Owen was happy and busy dissecting the alien they'd found, Gwen was off liasing with ex-colleagues at the police and Tosh was buried deep in some coding, Jack sat back, drinking his coffee, and the two men talked.

Jack felt the strengthening of the connection between them. He knew what it was like to lose part of yourself, to have pieces missing from your past, to be haunted by nightmares over which you knew you had no control. There were occasional glimpses of appreciation and the black humour that was one of Ianto's trademarks.

Chapter 14 - Offering

Jack walked into The Hub the following morning. He'd spent the night wandering the streets of Cardiff trying to gather his thoughts about what was happening between him and Ianto and the usual work of his team.

As the cog door rolled open he was surprised to see Owen and Ianto sitting on the sofa chatting. The two men had reached an uneasy truce but that, coupled with a reluctant admiration for each other's abilities, seemed at least most of the time to work for them and enabled them to actually work rather well together. Still, they rarely sought each other out for companionship, but Jack knew that surprises were what made life interesting.

". . . all over her. You'd have had kittens." He heard Owen say with a grin.

Ianto spluttered, laughed round the mug of coffee he was drinking from.

"You're a bad, bad man Harper," he grinned.

"Morning boys," Jack said cheerily, having pushed away a spike of jealousy, realising that if Ianto was happy talking to Owen then so be it.

"Jack."

"Sir," Ianto said, standing in one fluid movement. He smiled faintly and headed to the kitchen to get Jack a drink.

The day transitioned into a perfectly regular one, no sudden unexpected rift openings or alien discoveries. There were a couple of possible Weevil sightings and Jack sent Owen and Gwen off to investigate and Owen came back fluently cursing Welsh teenagers who ought to be in school.

Ianto spent a lot of time in the Archives, Jack wasn't concerned though, given what had happened in the young man's life over the last few weeks he was relieved that the Welshman hadn't taken to living down there.

Jack found relief from everyday life wandering around Cardiff and standing on rooftops, Ianto descended into the Torchwood Archives, on particularly bad days only re-appearing to supply coffee and to order pizzas. There had only been a handful of these days recently and Jack knew that this was clearly not one of them, when a plate of sandwiches accompanied by a mug of coffee was placed on his desk.

"Ahh Ianto, that looks wonderful," he smiled.

"You know Sir, there's very little happening, you could have gone out for lunch," Ianto said matter-of-factly.

Jack grinned, his eyes flashing cheekily.

"That wouldn't be nearly as enjoyable as you bringing me my lunch."

"You know the saying about ignorance being the mother of presumption," Ianto raised an eyebrow before turning to leave.

"Marie de Gournay," Jack called out, he watched as Ianto paused fractionally, and he grinned to himself.

"Nice, Jack," was the quiet reply.

A 5am phone call a few days later led to Jack being invited by Ianto to visit his sister's grave with him. Jack was truly surprised, but felt that he hid it quite well, and so, 7am that morning found Ianto picking Jack up, and the two men headed out to the Beacons once again.

"Thank you for inviting me," Jack said, as they left the outskirts of Cardiff behind them.

Ianto glanced over, smiling gently.

"You've been with me from the start of this Jack," he paused, concentrating on the traffic for a while, then gave a quiet harsh laugh.

"From long before I knew anything about it myself thanks to your special files on us all." he said, a hint of sadness and rarely heard bitterness in his voice.

Jack looked out of the window watching the countryside fly by, wondering. No matter how long you lived he knew that there were always times when you had to take a leap into the unknown, into the darkness that could become warm light or icy coldness.

This was one of those moments.

"I wanted to be with you, as soon as I saw you. Through everything, that's never changed."

Ianto turned to look at him, keeping half an eye on the quiet road. Grey eyes reading Jack's open face; calculation working out exactly what the older man meant. He gave a faint smile and a nod in response.

Jack let out a breath of relief that he hadn't realised he was holding and mentally kicked himself. Unspoken feelings between himself and the young Welshman had been bubbling under the surface for a very long time and now, when they were on the way to visit his sisters grave for only the second time, he had to mention how he felt.

"Jack," the words were spoken softly.

Jack looked back up at Ianto.

"It's good," the young man smiled reassuringly. "I understand," and he did.

From coasting along, they had been pushed together, Jack had opened himself up a little bit more to Ianto in offering what he'd had hidden: the information about the young man's family. Ianto had seen that Jack had felt that he was protecting him and he had enough experience in working for Torchwood and for keeping things hidden himself, to know that Jack was doing what he believed was right, and what he felt it was his responsibility to do.

It wasn't necessary to debate whether what they'd done was right or not, that wasn't important. What was important was that they both knew where they stood at this point, and thanks to Jack's few words in the car, and Ianto's understanding, they did.

A calm, companionable silence filled the car for the rest of the journey.

"Are you going to visit your Uncle?" Jack asked, as they entered the village down the single street.

"Not this time; this visit is for Moira," they pulled up in front of the Church.

Ianto got out and opened the boot, picking up a bouquet of flowers, Jack glanced at it and smiled, it contained white roses and rosebuds, white lilacs, daises and other flowers, each one having it's own meaning. It was true that the young Welshman had hidden depths, he was speaking to his sister through the flowers he'd brought to lay on her grave.

"You coming Jack?"

"Oh yeah," he grinned as Ianto shook his head, and followed him up the path.

http://www.flowerstories.net/index.html

Chapter 15 - Inquisition

Jack walked up the path beside Ianto, their way lit by dull autumn sunlight. The wind blew Jack's coat against Ianto's legs, the sensation filling the young man with reassurance.

Jack stopped, letting the younger man carry on up to the grey headstone, where Ianto knelt and placed the flowers on the ground.

The soft lilt of Ianto's voice carried to where Jack was standing.

"I've discovered a lot of things since I was last here little sister. A lot of things about you and me, and our parents and what happened to us. I'm not sure if I'll get over it, but maybe I will learn to live with it better.

"Jack's helping, I think that one good thing from this, apart from finding out about you is that it gave us the push we needed. We'd been dancing around each other for a long time. I wonder if you'd have found it funny.

"Jack said that I've always been trying to save you; I can't help but feel guilt that I survived and you didn't.

"I'm getting tired of being angry, at him, at them. I just want it to stop."

Jack's eyes watered, he blamed it on the wind, but he knew that part of it was listening to the words of the softly spoken Welshman, such sweet sad words from a mouth that could also produce words that would cut someone to pieces.

He smiled as Ianto held out a hand to him, the cold fingers wrapping round his.

"This is Jack, Moira," still kneeling, he rested his head against Jack's leg. "He's important to me. I hope you'd have liked him.

Ianto stood up, head bowed he still looked down at the flowers on the ground. Jack said nothing, simply wrapped a big wool clad arm around the younger man, pulling his head to rest on his shoulder, Ianto briefly turned his head burying his face in Jack's shoulder.

"Cysga'n dawel, chwaer fach,* " he said in a whisper. Before turning away, pulling Jack after him.

The drive back to Cardiff was quiet, neither man talking. Jack had offered to drive back, but Ianto refused to let him behind the wheel of his car, as usual. Jack laughed to himself, some things never changed.

Ianto dropped Jack at The Hub before heading home, if the older man was surprised that he wasn't coming in to work, he didn't say anything.

Ianto let himself into his flat and shut the door behind him, placing his keys carefully on a bowl on the side table. He took off his shoes and hung up his coat, mentally debating whether to leave his tie on, in the end removing it won out.

He went through and switched on his computer leaving it to boot up while he fetched a coffee. He placed his hands on the counter and sighed to himself while he waited for machine to brew it. He felt drained, the anger that was his constant companion of late still bubbled inside him.

Ianto carried his coffee through to his study. He logged on, and then sat, staring at the screen, trying to muster his thoughts into a semblance of order.

David Clarke, the name of the man who had destroyed his family had been echoing round inside his head ever since he read it in the file. The man had been released from prison, which had produced the effect of igniting his anger to the point of him smashing up a very expensive vase in his living room one evening when he'd spent too much time thinking.

'Start with the simple things' he thought to himself, and he Googled the name. When nothing sprang up he accessed the Torchwood network. He knew that Tosh would spot that he had got in, but he did it from time to time, and she knew that he was as good as she was in his own way, so she wouldn't think anything of it.

Ianto worked for a couple of hours, accessing Police, Court and Probation Authority files. It really was terrible he thought to himself, how easy it was to access information about people, nothing was private and confidential anymore.

He pulled a hardback spiral bound notebook off the shelf above the desk and neatly jotted down dates, addresses, times, everything that he needed to know and might need to refer back to.

The sky outside darkened as he sat at the desk, the only light a pale blue illumination from the screen. Staring into space he vacillated between what he wanted to do, what he thought he should do and what he knew he ought to do.

His elbows rested on the desk and he held his head in his hands, tears falling onto the keyboard. He wanted to scream and scream and it was a terrifying sensation, for him to feel so out of control of his thoughts and emotions.

Jack kept him grounded, more so in recent weeks than ever before, but right now Jack wasn't here. It would be easy to pick up the phone, but then Jack may ask questions.

He lifted his head up, a mobile ring-tone cutting through his thoughts, he glanced at it. Jack. Running his fingers through his short hair he answered.

Damn the man, he just knew when something was wrong, it was uncanny. But then Jack was an unusual man.

He made a deliberate effort to sound fine, and achieved it, Jack agreed to see him in the morning and hung up.

Ianto switched off his computer and changed into jeans, t-shirt, jacket and boots. Picking up his notebook and car key's he headed into the less salubrious part of Cardiff.

Weevil hunting with Jack had stood him in good stead, as he set out hunting a prey that was solely his own - Clarke.

Welsh Translation
Cysga'n dawel, chwaer fach – sleep quietly, little sister.

Chapter 16 - Strike

Ianto was stunned, he looked at the photo's of Clarke that he'd printed out, checking again, looking at the man locking the door of the dilapidated flat behind him, he accessed his memory of the man they'd rescued from the warehouse week's ago, the one who'd been wearing the empathic cuff.

They were the same man.

An intense fury and frustration flooded every inch of his being; aimed at himself, for not fitting the pieces together before.

Ianto watched Clarke walk away from him, down the alleyway between the buildings.

Clearly the address he'd got was right, it seemed Clarke was being truthful with his Probation Officer about where he was living. Ianto closed his eyes, his head was pounding and he was cold. Given what he'd discovered, that he had seen this man before, he decided to go home, to attempt to get some sleep, and to re-assess the situation tomorrow.

Clarke haunted his dreams even more than usual that night and at 4am Ianto gave up, giving in to the fact that he wasn't meant to get any sleep.

He showered, drank coffee, dressed and headed to The Hub through the quiet early morning autumn darkness of Cardiff.

Locking the door of the Tourist Office behind him he headed down, Jack would be the only person around at the moment. Ianto felt guilt mixed with anxiety about what he was going to do, but overriding all this was the need for payback and closure of this part of his life which had haunted him even when he didn't know it, it's insidious fingers had worked their way into everything.

"Morning Jack," he called from the kitchen.

He heard a faint reply.

Jack wasn't in his office when he took the coffee in, Ianto could hear the shower running down below.

He placed the mug on the desk and went over to the safe, he knew the codes now and unlocked it.

Various thoughts ran through his head as he opened the door, and kept one ear on the sound from downstairs. He was concerned that he was breaking Jack's trust, but maybe the other man would understand. He hoped so, and he promised himself that he would call the other man when, well, when the time was right.

He retrieved the cuff and quickly and quietly re-locked the safe and left, as he did he heard the shower turn off.

Ianto went back up to the tourist office and slipped the cuff into his coat pocket before returning to his usual duties.

The remainder of the day passed quietly for the Torchwood team. If Jack noticed anything wrong with Ianto he didn't say anything.

At five that afternoon Owen and Gwen left, and shortly afterwards Ianto stuck his head round the door of Jack's office.

"I'm going to go now Jack, there are some things I need to get done," he said smoothly.

Jack looked up from his desk.

"You ok?" he said, a combination of curiosity and concern flooding the few words.

Ianto smiled confidently and nodded.

He went back up and slipped on his coat, his hand going immediately into his pocket, checking that the cuff was still where he'd left it.

Locking the door behind him Ianto went straight home to change. Dark jeans, dark red t shirt and black jacket, finished off with black boots, he hardly recognised himself, still he smiled at his reflection, along with anticipation there was a kernel of calmness that was starting to grow within him.

He went back through to his bedroom and retrieved the cuff, which was lying on top of the chest of drawers then he went to the wardrobe and kneeling down unlocked the gun cabinet he had bolted to the floor. Placing the gun he used for work inside he got out his personal one, the one registered to him at home rather than him at Torchwood. Everything was significant, including this. Loading it he placed it in the holster, and locked the cabinet. Reaching behind it he pulled out a sheathed commando knife, slipping it into his jacket, the only reason he'd bought it was because of the strange shaped pocket. He picked up his phone, his car keys and then left.

Driving through Cardiff Ianto headed for the same dilapidated area he'd to been before. Parking his car a few streets away from Clarke's flat, he went the rest of the way on foot. As he walked, he started to release the anger that had been kept mostly contained over the last few weeks.

It burned through his veins like fire, pain, sorrow, anger; so many dark emotions, but together surrounded by the feeling of finality which was starting to grow, he felt almost invincible.

He stood with his back against the brick wall where he'd been last time. Grey eyes as hard as flint, watching the battered looking green door. He saw movement behind the tattered curtain. Good, Clarke hadn't left yet, he was completely certain he would, and his instinct rarely failed him.

Ianto fished his phone out of his pocket. He had a promise to himself to keep: not to hide things from Jack. He wasn't certain he was doing the right thing, still he pressed one on speed dial and prayed to the God he didn't believe in.

"Ianto?" Jack answered with a question in his voice.

"I've found Clarke," the young man replied softly, "I . . . I've taken the empathic cuff. I just needed you to know. No secrets Jack, I didn't want to hide it but," he paused. "I need to make him understand what he did."

Jack didn't say a word.

"He's the man in my dreams Jack, I finally worked it out. How could I have taken so long to do that," he paused at the rhetorical question. "The man I tie down and torture, I don't know if I could do that though, but you're always there in those dreams too Jack. Always there watching, I know you've tortured people but . . . you always have a smile on your face," there was puzzlement in Ianto's voice.

As he'd been speaking Jack had logged on to Tosh's computer and located where Ianto was. Grabbing his coat he picked up the keys to the SUV and went after the young man.

"Ianto," Jack cut in quietly, "I can understand why you want him to pay for what he did, but remember that whatever you do will be with you forever. Even with Retcon you'd still have done it, it doesn't stop what's happened."

"I know Jack," he could hear the sadness combined with an icy simmering beneath the young man's reply.

"Wait there Ianto, I'm nearly with you."

Chapter 17 - Retribution

Not long after he hung up on Jack, Ianto heard the unmistakable sound of the SUV in the distance. Not more than five minutes later he felt a hand on his shoulder.

He'd known he would come, why else would he have made the phone call, he thought to himself.

"Jack," he whispered. "Don't try to stop me, please."

Ianto felt two strong arms wrap around him and a kiss was pressed to his head.

"I wouldn't dream of it cariad," Jack drawled quietly.

A noise from one of the flats drew their attention. Jack felt Ianto tense in his arms and they watched in silence as Clarke locked the door and started down the outside staircase.

Hidden by the shadows he didn't see Ianto, until the younger man grabbed his arm, flinging him against the wall before wrapping one arm round his throat.

"Not a word," he whispered hoarsely into Clarke ears. Jack doubted that the man could have said anything anyway with his airway cut off by the black clad arm.

He followed as Ianto dragged the stunned man into an empty ground floor flat and watched as the younger man pulled off his belt and secured the other man's hands behind him. Clarke was just starting to come round as Ianto flung him down on the dirty floor in a corner.

Jack stood watching the scene unfold before him, he understood why Ianto had to do this but wondered how many other people on this planet would. In order to move on the young man had to mete out his own version of justice. Everything that had been hidden from him for all those years and that had been so brutally exposed had caused a wound that would only heal with a very specific dressing, and that was what was happening here and now in this dismal, dirty run down room that stank of rats and urine.

Ianto saw the man come round, and he smirked nastily.

"Let me introduce myself," he said, his native accent thickening in anger. "Ianto Jones, I doubt you'll remember me, after all I was a lot younger, only twelve when you attacked and raped me, and murdered my sister," he said slowly, nonchalantly getting out his gun and knife out.

Clarke whimpered and tried to crawl further away but was stopped by the corner.

"Which do you think I should start with Jack, gun or knife?" Ianto asked, without taking his eyes off the pitiful creature in front of him.

"Oh, I dunno, I'm always partial to a bit of pistol whipping myself," he laughed cruelly.

Ianto gave a nasty laugh, and put them back before pushing a hand into his trouser pocket.

"B, b, but I served my time," Clarke cried quietly.

Ianto moved like lightning, and placed his booted foot on the man's airway, pressing him brutally into the floor.

"You are worthless, you're alive and my sister is dead, you can never serve enough time."

With one flick of his wrist Ianto attached the cuff, binding his wrist to Clarke, and he gave a gasp as he let it all out.

Clarke screamed like a dying animal as his mind was bombarded with all Ianto's darkest emotions. Ianto was impassive, but for the tears flowing down his face as he forced everything out and into the other mans' mind. Then as quickly as he'd attached it he released it and took a step back.

He stood looking at the quivering pitiful creature in front of him as if he were a lab rat, then he placed the cuff back in his pocket and got his knife out once more. Stepping up to the man in the ground he leaned over him.

"Clarke, Clarke, look at me," he called sweetly in a sing-song voice.

A pair of terrified watery brown eyes opened.

Ianto very deliberately placed the knife at the man's throat, lightly dragging it, just enough to cut the surface of the skin. Pinprick pearls of scarlet blood appeared in a perfectly straight line. A map of Ianto's pain and anger and lost childhood.

"Remember me," he said icily, slowly removing the knife from Clarke's throat.

The other man nodded frantically.

Ianto turned and walked away. Jack cocked his head questioningly and smiled before taking Ianto's hand as they walked out into the dark night.

"Better?" he asked the young man nonchalantly.

Ianto turned to Jack and wrapped his arms around him, before resting his head on the older mans shoulder. He took a breath before answering.

"Truly, yes I do. It's as though something has been unlocked and I can see the sunlight once more." He paused before continuing, faint worry in his voice. "He'll be alright?" he asked hesitantly.

"He'll live," Jack replied after thinking for a moment, "which is more than he deserves."

The streets were silent as they walked back to the vehicles. Ianto looked up at Jack, and he felt around in his pocket for the car keys.

"Would you like a coffee, the good stuff," he asked, uncertainly.

Jack laughed softly and smiled.

He stroked a finger down Ianto's nose, so quickly the young man wasn't sure whether he'd imagined it or not.

"I'd love some, I'll follow you." He headed for the SUV, glancing back once to see Ianto getting into his car.

It took Jack a while to find a parking space, and he let himself into Ianto's flat with his key. The smell of fresh coffee greeted him as he slipped off his coat and laid it over the back of the sofa. He gave a small smile at the sound of the shower running, not surprised that the young man had headed straight for the shower.

Jack debated going to join him, a smirk crossing his face at the thought of hot, wet Ianto, but then the sound stopped. Suddenly he felt like a kid who'd just had his candy taken away by the teacher.

He went into the kitchen grabbing two mugs from the cupboard and poured the coffee, a soft sound made him turn. Ianto was standing there, looking so unlike himself it took Jack a second to react; when he did it was with a true, genuine look of joy, at the sight of which a similar look appeared on the Welshman's face.

"If I'd seen you like that before I couldn't have kept my hands off you for this long," Jack smiled.

Ianto had a towel in his hand and was rubbing his hair dry wearing only a pair of faded blue jeans just pulled on with only the zip done up, the button hanging undone.

It took a fraction of a second for Jack to wrap Ianto in his arms, kissing him with the passion of a starving man.

That night the two men made love, freed of the cloud of Ianto's past that had been hanging over them.

Ianto knew that Jack may wander, he understood that and accepted it, he was worth it.

There was something Jack had that he could never find in anyone else. Jack knew what it was like to be surrounded by the darkness and that was unique, they needed each other, because they both understood.

Epilogue

One year later

The little robin sang its song joyfully as the early morning autumn mist drifted over the hills. His song was interrupted by the noise of a powerful engine as a big black SUV sped through the village. He watched, his head cocked to one side as it came to a stop outside the Chapel gate. Two men got out, they were similar in height but distinctive in their appearance, one wore a long blue military coat, the other a shorter black overcoat and carrying a large bunch of flowers.

The one in the long coat paused as he stepped round the back of the car, holding out his hand to the other man who smiled and took it. Holding hands the two men stepped through the gate and walked into the graveyard.

The robin sang once again before flying away.

This time Jack and Ianto walked up to Moira's grave together. Ianto firmly holding Jack's hand, he squeezed it gently, the older man turned and smiled.

They stopped as they reached the gravestone, it was cleared now, well, not as overgrown as it was a year ago Ianto thought. He smiled to himself, like him and Jack really.

He released Jacks hand and knelt, placing the flowers on the ground.

"Well Moira, it's been a year. I thought about coming before, after, well after some stuff that went on. Jack told me I shouldn't though," he paused. "I think he was right."

Next to him Jack laughed softly and laid his arm across Ianto's shoulder.

"I'm glad, I'd hate to think that you'd have waited a year to come back here if you'd thought that I was wrong."

A frown crossed Ianto's face soon replaced by a soft contented smile.