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It was dark by the time Jack got back to Cardiff—four hours after The Doctor had dropped him off in London that he finally arrived home. After seeing Martha to her mum’s house and making sure Mickey had found an old friend to stay with, he’d eventually decided to wear the cost of paying for a cab to take him the almost-three-hours it took to drive from London to Cardiff, rather than waiting on a train or bus.
He gave the driver twice the fee for his trouble, before wearily climbing out in front of the Plass, the cab speeding off before he’d barely shut the door. Possibly because of the dozen or so Daleks standing motionless around the base of the water tower. Top half exploded, definitely no threat to anyone, but after what Earth had just been through, he wasn’t surprised people were wary.
The question was, after the Torchwood hub had taken over as the source of the signal when Harriette Jones had been discovered and killed, how long had it taken the Daleks to find Ianto and Gwen? Obviously, they were fine, he’d seen that for himself when The Doctor had contacted them to help bring the Earth back to where it belonged. But the thought of the two people he cared about most in the world facing down some Daleks on their own left him feeling uneasy.
He skirted the motionless metal monsters and made his way over to the invisible lift, sighing over the fact they’d have to start a clean-up operation in the morning. He wouldn’t be surprised to hear from Ianto that the mayor had already been on the phone, complaining about bloody Torchwood and ranting about the cost to the city of the latest damage.
He flipped open the cover of his wrist strap as he stepped onto the paving slab and pressed a button to activate it.
As soon as he started sinking, he could smell the subtle, left-over tinge of electrical smoke in the air from all the equipment that had shorted out when they they’d been using the water tower as a giant relay to contact The Doctor.
The lights were all on, which meant Ianto had to be here at least. He surveyed the mess as he descended. It’d been bad when he’d left, but Earth’s return trip had clearly shaken loose anything that hadn’t previously already been scattered and strewn when the Daleks had first stolen the planet.
“Ianto? Gwen?” he called out, surprised they hadn't appeared at the sound of the lift coming down.
“Ianto?” he yelled louder, but only got silence in return. He jogged off the lift and around the base of the water tower, only to pull up short as the cog wheel door came into view. He slowly topped the stairs near the work stations, hand landing on his holstered gun out of habit. A half-exploded Dalek stood just beyond the large blast door.
He stole a glance around, unable to tell if the Dalek had done any damage inside the hub because of the general destruction of everything in sight.
“Gwen! Ianto!” His heart sped up, making his next breath short. They were fine. He’d seen that. But where the hell were they?
He spun and went over to the nearest workstation—Tosh’s workstation—and started searching for a comm. Brick dust covered everything, interspersed with small chunks of crumbled mortar. Never mind cleaning up the Daleks on the Plass, it was going to take forever to clean up in here.
When he couldn’t find anything, he started searching through the papers and things that’d fallen to the floor. With a muttered curse, he ran up to his office to grab the one out of his desk draw. He quickly attached it then patched himself through.
“Ianto? Gwen? Are you there?”
“Jack,” Gwen answered right back. Not the voice he’d been wanting to hear, he suddenly realized, but better than nothing. “Where are you?”
“At the hub,” he replied with a relieved smile. “But you stole my thunder. I was going to ask you the same thing. Where are you?”
“Bute East Dock.” Her words were distracted, as if she was concentrating on something else.
“What are you doing there?”
“Chasing bloody weevils. Like that was all we needed tonight.”
“Ianto is with you?” It was probably a stupid question, Gwen wouldn’t have gone hunting weevils by herself.
“Yup, I’m here,” Ianto replied, sounding puffed. “Just a little busy at the moment.”
“Ianto! Watch out for—” Gwen yelled through the comm, making Jack wince and just about leaving him deaf in one ear.
Ianto let out a string of curses that would have made Owen proud.
“Where are you exactly? Sounds like you could do with some help.”
“No, it’s fine, Jack,” Gwen returned, voice sharp. “We’ve got this under control. We’ll be back in a little while.”
He opened his mouth to reply, but she cut the connection. Taking the comm out of his ear, he stared at it incredulously like it would provide answers as to why he’d just been pretty much given the cut direct by his own team.
And after spending half the cab ride home thinking about the reunion hugs, too.
Jack tossed the comm onto his desk and went out to Gwen’s workstation. He brought up CCTV of the garage—empty of course because Gwen and Ianto had taken the SUV—but this way he’d know the second they got back. He then checked the rift monitor and made sure there weren’t any other unusual reports demanding immediate attention.
Nearly half an hour later, and Jack was fighting the urge to get back on the comms when the SUV finally pulled into the garage. He jogged down to meet them just as Gwen was opening the back to reveal the sedated weevil they’d bagged.
“Oh good,” she said as she saw him. “You can carry the weevil this time. He’s a big bastard.”
“This time?” he repeated.
“Fifteen weevil reports in the last few hours. Seems the Earth being dragged half way across the universe and back again upset them just a little,” Ianto reported as he came around the end of the SUV. He was walking stiffly and holding his left hand pressed against his right shoulder. Beneath his palm, Jack could see his shirt was ripped and darkened with blood.
“Ianto! What the hell happened?” He reached up and gently pulled Ianto’s hand away to examine the nasty scratches across his upper chest.
Ianto sent him a flat look. “My boss decided to get all chatty on the comms just as I got the super-sized weevil cornered.”
“Damn it, I’m sorry.”
The weevil made a low guttural sound before Ianto could reply.
“Be sorry later,” Gwen said, motioning at the creature. “After you get it locked up in the vaults.”
“Gwen, take him to Owen’s— to the medical area and I’ll come up as soon as I get our guest settled.”
Ianto rolled his eyes, though the effect wasn’t quite as cutting as usual because his expression was tight and features pale. “Pretty sure I can take myself there.”
“All the same, I’d feel better if Gwen went with you.”
He held out his hand for the weevil spray Gwen was holding. She handed it over and then linked her arm through Ianto’s.
“Come on then, Ianto, luv. Let’s get that shoulder looked at.”
“If it needs stiches, I’m going to the hospital.” There was a clear note of warning in Ianto’s voice. “No way am I letting either of you near me with a needle and thread.”
The two of them disappeared toward the hub and Jack sighed before turning to survey the sedated weevil.
It took a lot longer than Jack would have like and a lot of cursing to get the weevil secured in the vaults. By the time he got back up to the hub, Ianto was sitting shirtless on the autopsy table with Gwen dabbing at the three ragged claw marks on his upper chest.
“How’s it looking?” Jack stepped up behind Gwen and set his hands on her shoulders as he leaned in to study the wounds more closely.
“I don’t think they’ll need stiches,” she replied. “What do you think?”
Though they looked vicious, they weren’t deep and had mostly stopped bleeding.
“I think you’re right. A tight bandage should do it. Did you use some antiseptic spray, Owen’s special mixture?”
“Really?” Ianto groaned. “That stuff stings like buggery.”
“You want to get some weird infection from the weevil, fine with me.” Jack went over and rummaged through the nearby cabinet until he found it and then turned back to face him. “But otherwise I’d strongly suggest immediate intervention.”
Ianto sighed and clamped both his hands on the edge of the autopsy table. “Okay, get it over with then.”
As Jack came nearer to him, Ianto squeezed his eyes closed.
He quickly spritzed the antiseptic spray generously over the wound and then pressed a clean piece of gauze on top of the injury. He knew from all the times Owen had insisted on using it on him that the spray really did hurt like a son of a bitch. But apart from clenching his jaw and making a low noise, Ianto hadn’t even flinched.
“Okay?” he asked as Ianto finally opened his eyes and took a breath.
Ianto nodded, blinking, since his eyes were watering a little.
Jack reached over and grabbed a water-proof dressing to finish covering the injury.
“So,” he said, wanting to distract Ianto from the pain. “Which one of you is going to tell me about the Dalek in the hub?”
Ianto and Gwen exchanged A Look, but neither answered straight away.
“How long after I left did they find you?”
The silence stretched as Gwen and Ianto stared at each other.
“It wasn’t after you left,” Gwen finally said.
Ianto shook his head subtly at her, but Jack caught the movement, and suddenly he didn’t like whatever they were silently trying to communicate between one another.
“Explain,” he clipped out, finishing with Ianto’s bandage and then stepping back to cross his arms.
“It wasn’t after you left that they found us, Jack,” Gwen burst out with.
“It doesn’t matter,” Ianto insisted in a tight voice. “We’re fine—for the most part.”
He glanced ruefully down at the dressing on his chest.
“The only reason we’re fine is thanks to Tosh,” Gwen shot back at him. “If it wasn't for Tosh, Jack would have come back to find—”
She broke off, taking a breath, clearly trying to compose herself. He couldn’t tell if she was angry or upset or both. And then her words really sank in. Tosh had saved them?
“Someone better start completing sentences and tell me exactly what happened.”
“We knew the Daleks had found us before you left, Jack,” Ianto said, a hint of resignation in his voice. “They were already closing in on the hub.”
“What?” A wave of disbelief and sharp guilt cut through him. “And neither of you said anything? You just let me leave, thinking you were fine?”
Ianto glanced away from him, but not before Jack caught the emotion in his blue eyes. “You needed to go. The Doctor, the whole bloody planet needed you more than we did. I knew if you found out the Daleks were coming, you wouldn’t have left.”
He closed the distance between them and caught Ianto’s shoulders. A little too tightly if the way he winced was any indication.
“Of course, I wouldn’t have left! You could have been killed!”
“Then tell me, whatever the Doctor did to stop the Daleks and put Earth back where it belonged, could he have done it without you?”
Jack couldn’t answer that. He’d played his part, he’d gotten himself killed on purpose, found Mickey, Jackie Tyler and Sara-Jane. He’d been fully prepared to use the warp-star to destroy them all until the Daleks had used a trans-mat to put a stop to that. If he’d not been there, he didn’t know what might have happened to them all.
“I can see the answer on your face,” Ianto replied, sounding tired. “So this conversation is pointless. You left, but we survived.”
“Because of Tosh.” His statement sounded more like a question.
“That last line of defence she’d been working on, the time bubble?” A small smile played over Ianto’s lips. “Apparently, she finished it, but never got the chance to tell any of us.”
Jack couldn’t help but grinning fondly at Tosh’s genius that was still saving them to this day. “The rift created a time bubble that trapped you inside and stopped the Dalek from getting in?”
“Bloody brilliant, she was,” Gwen murmured wistfully.
“Yeah, she really was,” he agreed, reaching out to take Gwen’s hand and giving it a quick squeeze. But then he decided he was long overdue for those reunion hugs and pulled her against him.
She wrapped her arms around his waist, holding on tightly like maybe part of her had thought she wasn’t going to see him again. And maybe for a minute when that Dalek had come through the doorway, before Tosh's defence had activated, she really had thought that. They both had probably thought they were going to die. Hell, they’d watched him leave, assuring him they would be okay when the exact opposite had been true. At the time, he’d caught the emotion Ianto had tried to hide behind his quick smile, but had assumed it was more to do with the fact that he was running off after The Doctor again, when he knew it had hurt Ianto last time he’d done it without a word.
“I’m glad you’re both okay,” he said into Gwen’s hair before letting her go. “And for what it’s worth, I am sorry.”
“There’s nothing to apologise for,” Ianto said, his voice a little gravelly. “The world was ending. Again. You did what you had to.”
Everything Ianto had said was the absolute truth. But it didn’t make him feel any better. In that situation, there hadn’t been anyway to keep them safe. Maybe he could have taken them with him, but the Dalek Crucible would have been like exchanging one hell for another. Besides, without the two of them manning the hub, water tower and rift, they couldn’t have put the Earth back where it belonged.
“Now, Jack, no offense, but I’ve had enough of this bloody place for today.” Gwen was already backing up. “I’m going home where I should have been hours ago. Rhys will be going out of his mind. And I’m not coming in tomorrow.”
“What about all the half-exploded Daleks on the Plass?” he demanded, not really serious as she jogged up the stairs.
She waved an arm dismissively. “Get UNIT to clean it up. ‘Bout time they did something useful for us.”
Before he could say anything else, she’d disappeared, leaving him alone with Ianto. He looked down to see Ianto staring up at him. Jack reached down and took his arm, and as soon as he touched him, it was like releasing a spring wound too tightly. Ianto was on his feet and against Jack in another second, arms wrapped tightly around each other.
Jack breathed him in, threading his fingers into his thick hair, while Ianto buried his face against the collar of his coat, shuddering slightly in his arms.
“I can’t believe you stood there and told me you’d be fine when you knew the Daleks were coming.” Now that Gwen was gone, Jack let the emotion he’d been holding back into his voice. “You lied to me. And I think you once promised never to do that again.”
“Do I get let off the hook for the fact that the fate of the entire planet was on the line?” Ianto leaned back, nose wrinkling a little. “No offense, but you smell like smoke and weevil and something else rotten that not even your 51st century pheromones are compensating for.”
“Ah, that would be from being tossed in a Dalek equivalent of a rubbish bin and then sent to the incinerator.”
“Incinerator?” Ianto repeated, both his eyebrow hiking up. “Jack, you didn’t—”
“Die?” he finished before Ianto could. “Maybe just a little bit.”
Ianto didn’t look happy about that as he pulled him in close again. They stood there holding each other for another few long moments, until Jack felt Ianto shiver. It was chilly in the autopsy bay, and Ianto was missing a few clothes.
“How do you feel about getting out of here?” Jack pulled back, looking around for Ianto’s discarded jacket. His shirt was bunched up on the nearby trolley, too bloody and torn to be salvaged. Pity, that pink shirt was one of his favourites. Ianto looked delicious in it. Maybe its demise wasn’t such a bad thing. There’d been days when he’d worn it and Jack had barely been able to do anything except think about all the places he wanted to lick him.
“If you’re taking me back to my flat, then it sounds like an excellent idea. If, however, you’re hoping for dinner and movie, I’m afraid I’ll have to disappoint you.”
“There goes my plans for a steak,” he teased with a grin as he settled Ianto’s jacket over his shoulders. It’d be too painful for him to move his right arm to slid it into the sleeve. The jacket draped over him would have to do until they got back to Ianto’s flat.
While Ianto went straight down to the SUV, Jack went around and switched off all the lights. The cog wheel door couldn't close properly because of the destroyed Dalek, but he locked down the elevator and tourist office as best he could. Not ideal, but better than nothing.
The drive to Ianto’s flat mostly went by in silence, with Ianto slouched in the passenger seat, eyes drifting closed every now and then. He still looked pale, and Jack cursed himself for not thinking of raiding Owen’s dwindling supply of painkillers.
Outside of Ianto's flat, he parked the SUV half on the pavement and Ianto didn’t make a single comment about him blocking either the footpath or the narrow road, which always led to at least one of the neighbours complaining.
Jack jogged around the nose of the SUV and got to the passenger side to help him out, then wrapped an arm securely around him.
“I can walk fine on my own. It was my shoulder that got injured, not my legs,” Ianto muttered indignantly.
“I know,” Jack sent him a cheeky grin. “I just like making gossip for your neighbours.”
Ianto shook his head slightly as he pulled his keys out of his pocket. “You’ve got old Mrs. Riggs in a tizz. I swear she wants to ask me if we’re together, but she can’t bring herself to say the words. If I told her the truth, I think she’d probably spend a month of Sundays saying the rosary to save me from damnation.”
Jack slipped Ianto’s keys from his hand and then pulled him to a stop so he could study his face in the light cast by the streetlamps and neighbour’s windows.
“It doesn’t bother you, does it, what people think?” God knew Jack had never cared himself. He hadn’t grown up here, he didn’t share the limited view many people of this planet clung onto for whatever reason. But the fact that Ianto might be embarrassed or ashamed of him, of them, of what they had together was suddenly like a stone in his guts.
Ianto stared at him for a long moment, just long enough for Jack to start worrying about what his answer was going to be. Except then he reached up with his left hand—because he was keeping his right arm with the injury on his shoulder cradled to his side—and slid his hand to the back of Jack’s head, fisting a handful of his hair as he tugged him in for a hard, decisive kiss.
By the time Ianto pulled back, Jack was breathless and more than a little turned on.
“How many neighbours do you think saw that?” Ianto asked, a hint of defiance in his voice and a whole lot of heat. Obviously, he hadn’t been the only one affected by the intense moment.
“Hopefully all of them,” he murmured, leaning in closer. “And right now, they’re squirming with jealousy.”
Ianto gave a short, surprised laughed. Jack kissed him again—quickly, just to tide himself over while he unlocked Ianto’s door. Then he turned and tugged him inside, kicking the door closed as he pulled the jacket gently from Ianto’s shoulder.
Except Ianto was steadily backing away from him with a stern look. “You’re not going anywhere near my clean sheets until you’ve had a shower.”
“Fine with me. Shower for two.” Jack reached for him, but Ianto dodged him. Apparently, he’d gotten too good at anticipating Jack’s moves.
“Nope, I’m going to get some water and probably a sandwich since I can’t remember the last time I ate. Then, when you’re done, I’ll take a turn in the shower.”
Jack crossed his arms. “What and then we meet in bed and you tell me you’ve got a headache and then fall asleep like an old married couple?”
“Yes, Jack, that’s exactly what’s going to happen.” Ianto’s tone of voice suggested he was an idiot and he rolled his eyes as he turned away from him, heading for the kitchen.
Jack huffed a thwarted sigh and went to the shower like he’d been told. He didn’t take long, and when Ianto walked into his bedroom carrying a glass of water a few minutes later, Jack was laying naked on his bed, waiting for him.
Ianto didn’t hide the fact that his gaze was roaming hungrily over him, but he simply set the glass of water on the nightstand and then left to shut himself in the bathroom.
Jack was tempted to join Ianto in the shower, but as much as he loved being naked and wet with him, his shoulder was injured and when major end-of-the-world type things happened like they had today, Ianto needed time alone to decompress. Jack had learned that Ianto would come to him when he was good and ready. Once he had things somewhat sorted out in his own mind, Ianto always came to him.
A few minutes later, Ianto reappeared in the bedroom, still dragging the towel across his damp skin and then scuffing it over his hair, leaving it mussed and sticking out in all directions in a way that was too gorgeous for words.
Jack caught him as Ianto came down onto the bed, gingerly avoiding putting any weight on his injured shoulder.
“Are you okay, does it still hurt?” Jack traced light fingers over the water-proof bandage to make sure it hadn’t grown damp underneath while he’d been in the shower.
“Twinges a bit, but it’s fine.” Ianto settled back on the pillows with a tired sigh.
Jack propped himself up on his elbow, staring down at him as he ran a soothing hand over his chest. “If you really do just want to go to sleep—”
“Jack, I thought I was going to die today. Again. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve thought oh shit, this is really it. When you left, all I could think was that you were going to come back and find the Daleks had killed me and Gwen. After Owen and Tosh, I didn’t know how you were going to cope with that, what it would do to you.”
Jack clenched his jaw, unable to say anything over the fact that Ianto had thought he was going to die, but he’d been more worried about Jack than himself.
“And I thought, you’d get over it eventually, wouldn’t you? Because you’d have to. Because you have. Gotten over other people you've loved. So many times before. I’d just be another memory in that long lifetime of yours. Eventually, you’d forget the sound of my voice. What I look like. All the time we’ve spent together. It’d just been gone like dust on the wind—”
“Ianto—” His words were gouging into him with fear and anguish because he didn’t want to hear the truth of what he was saying.
Ianto stared up at him. There wasn’t any sorrow or resignation in his gaze, just a calm acceptance that was almost unnerving.
“So, if you don’t kiss me, then I’m going to start getting rather angry about the time we’re wasting when we could be—”
Jack didn’t let him finish, leaning down to catch his mouth beneath his in a long, languid kiss. It wasn’t hard or hurried, he didn’t want to risk hurting Ianto—or Ianto hurting himself—if things got too energetic. But the intensity was still there, humming all the way through his body.
Jack shifted on top of him, keeping his weight braced on his arms, but pressing against him, relishing the way Ianto welcomed him, rocking close, the sensation of warm, naked skin against warm, naked skin.
Though he could tell Ianto was becoming increasingly restless and impatient, Jack took his time, not wanting to rush any of it. Finally, though, Ianto decided he wasn’t having any more of it and managed to reverse their positions. Before Jack could worry about his injured shoulder, Ianto had sunk into his body, groaning like he’d found utter bliss.
Jack couldn’t draw a full breath from the waves of pleasure rippling through him. Ianto had taken up where he’d left off, pace slow and measured, building them both up in almost frustratingly gradual degrees.
But it couldn’t last, and even as Jack started tightening up all over, he felt Ianto tensing against him. Ianto dropped his head and Jack cupped his face, holding him close as everything fell away and in that moment of pure euphoria, there was nothing but the two of them, the sound of Ianto moaning deeply in his ear rippling through his entire body.
A moment later, Ianto dropped to relax on top of him, releasing a long breath, sounding replete.
Jack threaded a hand through his still damp hair and pressed an intimate kiss to his forehead.
“You’ll never just be another memory for me to forget, Ianto.” The words seemed so inadequate, and he didn’t know if Ianto would ever believe them.
“I love you too,” Ianto whispered in return.
Jack didn’t answer. He couldn’t. There wasn’t anything else either of them needed to say.