Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“I love you.”

“Don’t.” 

Ianto walks out of Thames house unwell, but alive. What was said, and what was unsaid , hangs in the air as heavy as the gas. It follows them far beyond Thames house, and long after.  

Love, and by extension Jack, is a sword unto which Ianto refuses to throw himself on. He’d made that promise to himself when they’d left Thames house, then again at Anwen’s birth, and again immediately after they’d picked up and assumed the roles of Ken and Ifan in the French countryside. Not so bad, that bit. Though, even the sun setting over beautiful scenery gets tiring when you can’t speak the language, and can’t talk to anyone other than Jack fucking Harkness. He figured, at first, Gwen drew the short end of the stick: staying in Wales, where she was undeniably less safe. She’d insisted, however, that she wasn’t going to raise her daughter anywhere other than her home country. Now, however, what he wouldn’t give to understand the street signs again, even be near his sister. 

He all but outright refuses to cave completely into Jack. What was left unsaid, what Ianto said, will remain frozen in time above their heads while Ianto ages into a boring, normal life and Jack stays exactly the same. Because one day, and he knows this to be absolutely true, Jack will pick up and leave. Whether it’s when he’s old and Jack is tired of him, or tomorrow, Ianto has no clue. So, baring the savoured moments when Ianto might fail to keep his promises (sex, kissing, Jack’s french toast on Friday mornings) they don’t need to pretend Jack is in love with him. Ianto will, in private, cherish the time Jack extends into whatever kind of house they’re playing, and he will love it. He does love it. And, of course, he loves Jack. That’s immutable. He’ll love Jack, even when he leaves him. 

He’d seen Gwen last just hours after Anwen was born. Final Torchwood Project she was at the time. She’d been tired, and angry, and wholly far too sweet, with a little bundle of pink and yellow. Anwen had been a tiny baby, almost to her due date, surprising the team a week early. She was smaller than Ianto remembers either Mica or David being: a small, helpless thing. Strong enough to survive by virtue of Gwen and Rhys, since Torchwood did nothing but ruin her very very short life thus far. 

And that was it; Jack and Ianto were named god-fathers (“by default.” Rhys had joked. “We’ve got no other friends.”) kissed Gwen and Anwen goodbye, shook Gwen and Rhys’ parents hands, and left for France immediately. Hospitals have far too much security, far too many eyes. They hadn’t heard a word of Gwen, beyond what Jack could discern from scanning every CCTV he could find. He needed to cheek up on her, keep eyes out for trouble. 

Ianto knows he misses her, like an open wound. Tried not to feel bad he couldn’t mend it. 

So Ianto tends a garden, in an all too quiet village, and stumbles through horrific small talk with retired neighbors. Jack draws crowds of them, feeding his ego and themselves with treats. It's not all horrible- but god is it mostly. 

He hadn’t considered, seeing as he was 19 at the time, how Torchwood seeps its way into your bloodstream. Like a drug. Sometimes he craves the feel of rusted metal under his hands, splintered wood of the tourist desk, or chalky retcon. He itches for an adventure, an invasion, rift activity, weevils, anything. No more, though. Couples spats about the laundry or the washing up and sex are as heated as anything gets here. 

He hopes Gwen is just as miserable, sometimes. Then regrets it immediately. Anwen must be a thrilling adventure on her own, and she must be sleeping through the nights at 18 months, right? He’s got no clue, only sure Anwen’s even alive by spotting her in Rhys’ carriage 8 months ago by a deli. Stalkers, the two of them are. 

So, he’s settled in routine. Ianto wakes up next to Jack in their bed. Goes to brew a coffee before Jack wakes. Tonight was a good night, no nightmares. No visions of dead friends clouding his mind as morning light streams in through the blinds. After coffee, he goes to check the Torchwood mainframe. Just in case. Jack strolls in and finds his perfectly brewed coffee on the counter. “Morning.”

Jack kisses his cheek, as if they’re a married couple in a sitcom. 

“Morning.” Ianto chimes right back. 

What Ianto is greeted too, when he gets to checking (he’s always sure nothing happened that could lead to Gwen, first thing. Then Rhiannon and the kids.) is completely strange. 

“The CIA is talking about us.” Ianto says, casually. Feeling too dumbstruck for anything else. Jack is at his side in an instant. “I’ve got- Tosh’s software keeping us updated on references to Torchwood. Every personnel at the CIA received an email with just the word Torchwood a couple hours ago.” 

Jack stares at the screen, a duplicate of some poor desk jockey agent. “What the hell?” 

“Exactly.” Ianto says, tapping around. He’s hoping for some other information, what else the CIA have on them now. “Their records of Torchwood should be destroyed, but- there’s always a chance…” 

And then, instantly, the screen goes black. Torchwood is wiped off the entire CIAs mainframe, and Ianto is left with nothing. No where to even begin, you can’t follow something that's erased itself from existence. 

“What the hell was that?” Jack asks, pulling the computer toward him. “Who sent that- and whose erasing it? Why even-”

Ianto catches Jack’s eyes. This is bad. This is probably really bad. 

“I’ve got to get to DC, check out what the hells happening.” Jack snaps up from his seat, and Ianto watches his mind race. “Can you book me a flight? Direct, within the next three hours. Pull whatever strings you’ve got too.” 

“Yes, sir.” Ianto sits down at their dining room table, as Jack fumbles, getting toast in the toaster. “And- what about Gwen, Jack?”

He pauses, facing away from Ianto. 

“She’s not safe, is she?” 

Jack’s silence speaks for him, and he sighs. “Book yourself a flight to Wales.” He says, turning back around. “And be careful. No strings pulled.” 

“Yes, sir.”

Jack heads back off toward their bedroom, before rewinding around the corner. “I am so happy to hear that again.” Jack grins at him. “Yes, Sir.” He laughs, ducking around finally. 

Ianto smiles to himself, taking note. 

Torchwood’s back in business, then. 

Their usually slow morning takes the drastic turn into rushing around, finding fake new passports which had been shoved in drawers, creating cover stories, and packing. Ianto forgets to eat, and Jack’s toast burns. 

Jack’s flight is first, and he’s going to take off any moment. Briefcase in hand, faux Visa and the tools he’ll need once he’s on the other side of the Atlantic to fake just about any story inside, with a spare change of clothes in case he does something disastrous. Ianto packs himself something more substantial- the cover story they’re following is he’s a Welshmen returning home after a work trip (for that horrible jellied eels company Tosh came up with). His flight isn’t for another ten hours, since Jack forced his hand and made him take the most packed, least noticeable one. He’ll be alone eating himself alive with worry for Gwen while Jack infiltrates the CIA. Lucky bastard.  

Jack steps out of their bedroom, where Ianto’s sat back at the computer. He glances up and gets deja vu. There's his Jack: the greatcoat, blue button up and suspenders, steel-toed boots. Oh, it’s a sight, and if it weren’t urgent he head off, Ianto would have him against the wall. 

“How do I look?” Jack smirks, noticing Ianto’s eyeing him up. 

“Just like new, sir.” Ianto gets up from his seat, and Jack takes him around the waist. His touch is light, though. Nervous energy radiating between them. 

“Promise me you’ll be careful.” Jack says, barely in a whisper. He’s got Ianto pulled close, but his eyes can’t seem to find his. 

Ianto furrows his brow. “Only if you do.” He’s equally as quiet. 

Jack smiles, before leaning into a- frankly- all too sweet kiss. He leans Ianto against the wall gently, without the ferver Ianto was just hoping for. They stay like that, kissing, Ianto grabbing the back of the coat, clinging onto the moment. Moments like these- Ianto can almost convince himself Jack loves him. Of course, he’ll know better in a moment, but for now, he’ll kindly take Jack’s caress and his lips against his own. He’d live in those moments forever, if he could. 

Jack pulls back, only enough that their lips no longer touch. “I’ll see you soon, please be careful.” Ianto can feel the ghost of his words against his cheek, the worry ringing in his voice. 

“Call when you can?” Ianto urges, desperate. 

“I will, I will.”

Then, Jack pulls away fully, and the moment is gone. Back to business, no more worried words against the wall of their cottage. No more tender caress from Jack, not until this is resolved. 

When he does make it to Gwen’s, after many anxious hours in the airport, then sat on the plane, she’s not home. It only sort of makes sense, Ianto can’t convince himself entirely. They could be out for dinner, but it’s late for a baby to be out. And where would they go if they were? Ianto breaks in, leaving very little mess if he does say so himself, and finds nothing out of the ordinary inside. There's pictures on the wall, all of Anwen. Parents' heads innocently cut out of the frame, but Ianto knows that's smart. If someone like him broke in, they’d look and not find any evidence this is the right place. He checks where he thinks Gwen would hide important documents, and finds them first try, in her underwear drawer. Sorry, Gwen. Pick a better hiding spot next time. But- everything's there. Fake passport, fake birth certificates, and Anwen’s real one, even Gwen’s Torchwood ID, which she should have gotten rid of. Jack and Ianto hadn’t either. He’s inside their house for twenty agonizing minutes before he hears sounds at the front door, Gwen telling Rhys to shut up, and he steps out of his hiding place. He keeps his torso covered, hoping Gwen doesn’t shoot him in the head. 

“Gwen! It’s just me!”

He hears something crash down on the floor, glass breaking and Anwen crying. “Oh bloody hell .” Gwen shouts. 

He emerges from their living room, to a hug and immediate slap. Gwen holds him by his shoulders. “What the fuck is he doing here?” Rhys shouts, covering Anwen's ears. She’s gotten so big. 

Gwen shoves him, and Ianto stumbles backward. “Sorry for the scare.” He apologizes. Gwen looks furious with him. 

“What are you doing here?” She whispers, harsh. Her gaze stays leveled with him, no matter how angry she must be. “Do you know what's happened?”

Ianto furrows his brow, searching her eyes. “No- what, wait what do you-?”

Gwen rolls her eyes, heaving a sigh. “Christ, Ianto. How come we’re all in the dark?” She finally smiles at him, taking Anwen from Rhys. “People aren’t dying. Andy tells me it's been over 24 hours since the last reported human death on Earth.”

Ianto can’t even begin to comprehend what that means, and what that means for Torchwood. “What the fuck?”

“That's what I said.” Rhys laughs, holding a sippy cup and applesauce. 

“Why are you here then? And-” Gwen looks around, suspect. “Where’s Jack? He’s alright, isn’t he?” 

Ianto nods quickly. “Yes, alright. In DC, or- should be. He got a flight this morning, after the-” Ianto waves his hand in the air, the rush leaving his body, being replaced with a horrible gut feeling. “The CIA was randomly notified of Torchwood, we thought- we thought you’d be in danger.” 

Gwen raises her brow. “When was this?” 

Ianto thinks back to this morning, which feels like years ago now that he’s standing in Gwen’s dark living room. “We noticed around six this morning, in France, but it had happened around 4 AM.” 

Gwen sags, running her hand through her hair. She struggles, balancing the baby on her hip. 

“Here, let me.” Ianto reaches for Anwen, and Gwen passes her over, watching his form carefully. She’s still small in his arms, little Anwen. Her bright eyes look up to him, and reaches out for him. “Oh, hello darling. It’s been too long.” 

“Lots of reunions, tonight.” Rhys pipes in. “She saw grandmum and dad earlier.”

Ianto furrows his brow at Gwen. 

“My dads in hospital.” She mumbles, slumping down on the couch. Ianto follows, still holding Anwen to his chest. She coos, grabbing for his tie. 

Ianto bounces the baby lightly. “I’m sorry. Will he be alright?”

Gwen’s laugh stings, bitterness throughout it. “Everyone will. No one’s dying.” 

“Do they- does anyone know how that happened? And- It's all over the world?” 

“Yep, and no clue. Andy wasn’t the least helpful, and it seems like the media is scrambling with the information.” 

Rhys comes over, handing Ianto the sippy cup, like he’s expecting him to know what to do. Gwen takes the baby from him. “Some peado in Kansas was supposed to be executed, right?” Rhys says, while Gwen forces the cup to Anwen’s lips. “Little do they know, nobody dies anymore. The guys’ an overnight media sensation ‘cause the religious idiots are fawning over him.”

Ianto cringes, rolling his eyes. “Americans.”

“You said it,” Rhys finds a chair, and leans back. “So do you think it’s connected? Torchwood and this?”

Ianto shrugs unhelpfully. “Probably.” He sighs. Gwen just looks exhausted.

“Bloody Torchwood.” She says. “What does Jack think?”

“No clue- promised me he’d call when he found anything.”

Gwen quirks her brow at him. 

“Burner phones.” He supplies. “Presumably, he doesn’t have his yet.”

“Ah,” Gwen rolls his eyes. “And he sent you to check in on us?”

Ianto smiles, just a bit. “No, I sent him away. I’m here on my own accord.”

Gwen’s smile breaks into something genuine, finally, and she pulls him into a tight, proper hug. With Anwen crushed between them. “Oh, I missed you so much.” 

“I did too.” He whispers, into her hair. “Glad you're safe. We worried.” 

Gwen just holds tighter, until Anwen squirms. “Oh, darling, I’m sorry. But we’ve missed Uncle Ianto.” Gwen grabs the baby up in her arms, kissing her head. 

Ianto’s heart pangs. He missed Anwen too, even if she can’t remember him. “I can’t believe she’s so big.”

“Lots of growing in 18 months.” She holds Anwen so Ianto can peer above her, and Anwen can reach out for his hands. “I’ve told her all the good Torchwood stories already. You didn’t happen to bring your diary, did you?”

Ianto smirks. “Never go anywhere without it.”

“Fantastic.” Rhys gets up, heaving a sigh. “You two can read her another horrific bedtime story. I’m knackered.” And with that, Rhys leaves the party to go upstairs. Gwen purses her lips. 

“He’s angry with me, worse that you’re here.” She explains. “Can’t really stay away from Torchwood when it breaks into your house.” 

“Sorry.” He says, patting down Anwen’s hair. “But- it’s really wonderful to see you Gwen.” 

“Oh, Ianto.” She grins, baby bouncing between them. “What have you two been up to? All sorts of trouble I bet?” 

Ianto rolls his eyes. “French countryside has little to offer, once you're over how beautiful it is,” He shrugs, and Gwen bumps shoulders with him. “Jack can speak more than I can, more to get by.” 

“Oh, poor Ianto.” Gwen pouts her lips. “Beautiful countryside and Jack not enough?” She jokes, but Ianto feels the sting of the jab. Like Jack is something special on his own, and doesn’t spend their time together just as bored by mundanity. Like Ianto’s holding him back here out of some obligation he’ll never truly wrap his head around. 

“You can only have sex in the garden so many times.” Ianto shrugs, and Gwen laughs her head off. 

“Oh god. Well, yeah, same here. Rhys and I are driving each other mad. I’m with the baby all day, talking to myself.” Gwen holds Anwen up, making a kissy face at her. “Remember how Jack said his friend could translate baby-speak? What I wouldn’t give to learn how they do it.” 

“I think it was psychic.” Ianto sighs, holding Anwen’s tiny hand. “You’d have her thoughts in your head 24/7.”

“So less than now? Sign me up.”

It’s Ianto’s turn to laugh, and he does, still enraptured by Anwen’s funny baby faces. “She’s awfully quiet.”

Gwen’s face drops. “I know.” She settles Anwen in her arms. “I’m worried I’ve done something. Don’t most babies talk by now? Rhys says she’s just a late bloomer, that he started late too. Doesn’t help, of course.” 

“Can you see a pediatrician?” He’s got no clue if they’ve even got one, up here. Might just have a GP. 

“Yes, she says it's not too worrisome. Just gotta start talking soon, honey.” Gwen says the last bit to Anwen, who stares at her like she’s being funny. Gwen sighs. 

“I didn’t talk til I was about three,” Ianto waves his hand around. “That was extreme.” He amends, off Gwen’s distress. “Autism, that was a sign. My mum used to point it out to the doctor.” He says, quickly. Gwen nods like she understands. He’d been diagnosed later in his childhood, after much frustration from his mum, as he’s told. 

“Ah,” Gwen says, still looking concerned. She sighs, glancing up at the clock on the wall. “It’s late for her, want to help put her down?”

Ianto nods, and follows Gwen’s lead to the nursery. It’s cute: yellow and green paint, dolls and trucks on the ground, and a comfortable rocking chair. Gwen turns on a soft lamp, which is shaped like a lamb. “She’s not too fussy at night, it’s getting her up that’s the pain.” She says. Ianto just nods along. 

They chat, just small talk, as Gwen changes Anwen, putting her in comfortable pyjamas, and sets her down. They both peer in. She tucks a blanket up on her tummy, and places a soft rabbit by her head. “Will you tell her a story while I shower? Then I promise- we’ll catch up.” Gwen winks. Presumably drinks, then. 

“Of course.” Ianto smiles softly, still gazing at Anwen. 

Gwen smiles, turning off the lights, leaving only a nightlight, and races upstairs. 

Ianto leans against the crib, smiling. “How about the story how I met your uncle Jack? That one’s not too horrible, right darling?” Ianto chuckles to himself. Tiredness sets into his bones, in the dimly lit room, and with Anwen’s cooing. 

His eyes are heavy as he begins, but his heart picks up; the tension finally rising out of him. 

“Once upon a time; far far away in Cardiff, where your mummy is from: there was a dinosaur trapped in a warehouse…”

Chapter Text

Jack’s trip to America is not wholly unsuccessful. If he does say so himself. However cold, wet and sacred he is. Still, nothing to report to Ianto, however much he wants just to call. Can’t draw suspicion. After he dumps Esther somewhere safe, and goes to change. He notes the unhealing cut. It nags in the back of his mind, worry settling in his gut. Back to the hospital for a few hours. He watches that man, who tried to kill them and knows about Torchwood, get his head cut clean off, and still open his eyes. 

He calls Ianto when he gets a safe distance from the hospital. 

“Jack?” He hears after the first two rings. He breathes a sigh of relief. 

“Yes, me. Safe?”

“Safe, yes. Gwen, baby and Rhys too.”

Jack closes his eyes, says a thank you to whoever's out there watching out for his friends. “Good.”

“Anything? Have you heard no one’s-”

“Dying?” Jack sighs. “Yeah, nothing to report. Almost got blown up for looking at our own file at the CIA archive-” he hears Ianto hiss at that, but Jack continues. “And watched a guy get decapitated, still looking around. It's horrible.” 

Ianto sighs, and he hears Gwen make a struggle for the phone. “Are you coming home?” He asks, having overpowered Gwen seemingly. 

Jack’s heart aches. Home; Wales; Ianto. “Yeah, I’ll book a flight for tomorrow. Into Wales, I guess.” 

Ianto breathes a sigh. “We’re asking for trouble, all three of us in one place.” 

‘ Exactly what I’ve been saying!’ he hears Rhys shout, on Ianto’s end. Jack laughs. 

“Oh tell Gwen and Rhys I’ll see them tomorrow. I’ve gotta get cleaned up.”

“Are you alright?” Ianto asks, quickly. Jack’s gut sinks. “Were you hurt?”

Jack chews his lip, hoping Ianto’s too tired to see (or rather, hear) straight through his lies. “All good, just. Long day, longer flight.” 

Ianto hums his response. 

“I can’t say when I’ll be in, but…” Jack wants nothing more than to keep him on the line. Something in him, call it instinct, says he needs to be on high alert. “Don’t leave Gwen’s, all of you. I’ll see you soon. Maybe have her pack a go-bag.”

Ianto takes a moment to reply, like he’s caught on. “Alright, will do. Night, Jack.”

“Morning Ianto.” Jack chuckles, minding the time difference. He hangs up, pulling the metaphorical band-aid off. 

It’s like that now, with Ianto. He hadn’t expected to fall so hard. Be so… clingy. Especially when confined to tight quarters and empty hillsides. Still- he misses their home. Misses Ianto, and Gwen. But Ianto is nothing if not astounding. Able to coax Jack out of a decades long slump, straight into one of his worst cases of puppy love he’s ever had. He can hardly stand it. 

Things were good, he thinks. They’d have to be, or else Ianto would tell him, wouldn’t he? He complains about the rest of the world, Jack’s style of hanging up the laundry, the works. But never them. That’s gotta mean something. Things are good; he sleeps with his arms draped around Jack, wakes up (when they make it through without nightmares) and finds routine. Jack tries to change it up, so there's not another Ifan the housewife induced crisis at hand. They have great sex, but even better, spend time just cuddled up, watching French cable TV and old movies. Even if it's boring- it’s something Jack’s never had before. Boring. He could stand a boring life with Ianto. He might even love it. 

That cut, and after further inspection bruises, bother him. He doesn’t bruise. His skin heals too quickly. Somethings definitely wrong, and he dares to hope his hunch is off. 

Something exciting flickers at the possibility, though. Being mortal, human again. A normal lifespan, set into motion by whatever this is. That would be livable, as long as he gets home to Ianto to live it. 

As he’s laying down, reflexively he grabs for a hand that's halfway across the world. 

The man, who ends up filling the seat next to Jack, is talking loudly into his mobile while he boards. Jack listens halfheartedly, until he sits down. 

“All right, now concentrate.” He says, voice tight. He’s not unattractive, someone Jack would otherwise chat up if it weren’t for Ianto. Jack listens. “The life of Gwen Cooper. What do we know?”

His heart stops, but he stays cool, still in his seat. God, he couldn’t have gotten luckier, or had worse luck. He’ll see. 

“All right, now hold on, hold on. Go through her police records. Find out everyone she worked with, everyone she trained with.”

Jack tries to hear the other end, but no luck. All he gets is mumbles. A stewardess approaches him, smile hiding her annoyance. “I'm sorry, sir. I have to ask you to turn your phone off now.” 

“CIA, and I'm sick.” The man even coughs, for emphasis. Then, back into his phone: “Gwen Cooper. Find out everything.”

Jack makes a snap decision, and grabs the phone to snap it shut. The woman on the other end calls out to the man- ‘Rex.’ This guy cannot get any more info on Gwen, not just so he can stew on it for 8 hours. Who even knows if Gwen was just his last stop on the Torchwood highlights tour- what has heard of him? Or Ianto ? He can play annoyed civilian, anything that shuts him up. 

“She said to turn off the phone.” He smiles, without it reaching his eyes, and the man huffs. 

He’s just in time, it seems. 

Jack trails Rex Matheson- CIA field agent, but he’s not too good at covering his tracks, all the way to Gwen’s home. He loses him for a bit in the airport, but the head start Rex has is deliberate. Can’t let him know the annoying man from the plane is following him, can he? 

Maybe that was a bad idea, the way he’s looking at it now. 

At least the car he’s stolen is coming in handy.  

“Can’t leave you alone for a minute!” He says, just as Gwen, Anwen, Rhys, Ianto and the idiot from the plane come running. Ianto looks up at him from the body of the car, and rolls his eyes. “Get in, c’mon c’mon!”

Gwen, Rhys, and Anwen take the back, covering the baby with their bodies. Ianto steps across him into the passengers side, and Rex stands in the sand.

“It’s you?” He screws his face up, staring at Jack. 

Jack reaches a hand out to him, tilting his head to the back of the car. “You wanna get shot, be my guest, or get in .” 

Rex joins the Coopers in the back. 

With a look toward Ianto, and a glance at the machine gun in his lap, Jack tears across the sand. 

All things considered, no one dies. Or- gets critically injured, and they take the helicopter down. All's well that ends well. Gwen’s going to kill him if her baby’s hearing is shot at the end of all this, he’s sure of it. Gwen and Ianto take to planning, and the only place they can think to go is back where the Hub used to be. Jack hasn’t been back to Roald Dahl Plass since he blew up. The city made it look nice, it seems. Rebuilt the towers and everything. There’s more pressing matters, including his itching arm, but- he keeps his hands shoved in his pockets, looking up at the sky. Gwen’s handling the leadership work, anyways. Rex watches them with disinterest. 

“Right, that's settled. Rhys and Anwen to my mothers: priority is keeping her safe- do you hear that, Jack?” 

He snaps out of his daze, making a show of his salute. “Yes Ma'am, protect the baby.” 

Gwen rolls her eyes, as does Ianto. Rhys seems preoccupied with baby Anwen. From where Jack is standing, Anwen’s just a bundle of pink and yellow blankets; but he can tell she’s grown. Gwen must be proud. “Ianto- I’m assuming you’ll want to inform Rhiannon?” Gwen turns to him, and he nods. “Right, we’ll get Rhys on that as well, thank you love.”

Rhys sighs dramatically, but nods. She’s awfully good, Gwen, jumping between wife and mum and uncover Torchwood agent. He’s missed her so much. 

“Jack, have you got any weapons? I’ve got the Eye-5s but that's all.”

He shakes his head. “Just what was in the jeep. Unless Ianto-”

Ianto turns out his pockets, smirking. “Just a handgun.”

Jack wags his eyebrows, and Gwen smacks him. “Shut it. Well, then Jack, you and I will figure something out. Next couple days we’ve got to stock up, who knows what else is coming.” 

“I told you, darling. First sign of trouble and mummy’s off with Captain Jack Bollocks.” Rhys coos, to Anwen. Gwen storms up to him. 

“What choice have I got? I mean, they rebuilt the tower, now we're rebuilding Torchwood. Isn't that right, Jack?” Gwen gestures toward him, spinning on her heel. “Are you even listening to me?”

He’s been playing with his sleeve, turning his arm over to look at it. The cut hasn’t healed, instead turning pink around the edges. It’s not normal, or- it’s too normal. 

“I cut my arm.” He says, holding it up. 

After a pause, Ianto storms up to him, brow pressed into worry. “You what?”

“Oh poor baby- there’s more important things to-” it seems to hit Gwen mid sentence. “No, you don’t mean?”

Ianto yanks his arm toward him, turning it over to see the cut. “It looks worse than it is.” Ianto doesn’t seem to register that, instead staring with intensity. Gwen meets them around his arm. 

“When was this?” Ianto demands, finding his eyes. They’re scary- how urgent his voice is, the line of his shoulders settling in a tight line. “Jack?” 

Gwen looks between the two, with some interest. 

“Two days ago, 1st night in DC.” Jack whispers. Ianto’s eyes widen, his grip strengthening on Jack’s arm. 

“So it’s not healing- that's not normal.” He nods tightly, rolling the shirt sleeve down gently. 

“Seriously though?” Gwen gwacks, glancing between the two. 

Ianto buttons his cuff, and squeezes Jack’s wrist. Their eyes find each other, before pulling apart. 

“It’s only a cut?” Rhys cuts in, getting up to come look. Gwen groans. 

“But it's Jack.” She scoffs. “The whole world turns immortal, and Jack-”

“I turn mortal.” He says, closer to a whisper than Gwen’s shout. Ianto stays by his side. “I don’t mend. I’m normal- human again.” 

“You’re what?” Rex heckels, incredulously. He tries to get up, but clutches his chest. 

“Doesn’t concern you.” Ianto shouts, hands back on his hips. He chews on his lip like he’s got something to say, and is waiting for a moment alone. 

“You talk some crazy shit. You know that right?” Rex rolls his eyes, holding himself up by the hand rail. Gwen watches him. 

“You should really get that seen too.” She points out, stomping up toward him. 

Rex grins, though there's something sharp behind his eyes. “Yeah any minute now.” 

As if on cue, sirens fill the air. Gwen’s eyes snap toward Rhys, who gets up and behind her. Ianto grabs Jack’s hand, preparing to run. 

“Ah, here comes my ride.” 

Gwen and Ianto’s attempt to run is futile, as another set of cop cars surround them. Jack tugs Ianto back toward him, standing shoulder to shoulder. Ianto steps in front of him, just one foot ahead. 

Andy Davidson steps out of the first car, shielding his eyes from Gwen’s shouting. “Andy, no, you can’t do this!”

“Orders from above. I’m sorry.” Andy sounds well and truly sorry, so Jack doesn’t plan to keep him on his shit list if they get out of this alive. “He’s in charge.” 

Rex grins, throwing his arms out like a freaking super villain. 

“Since when?” Jack shouts, but Ianto just grips his hand tighter. 

“He can’t arrest us! He’s american!” Rhys shouts, shielding the baby with his shoulders. Gwen surrounds Anwen, bracing herself around her. 

Rex motions toward one of the officers, who takes out the handcuffs. “I hate to bust up your sweet little tea party, but this isn't an arrest. This is a rendition.” He’s smug, dancing around the cops, like he owns them. Fucking American’s. “And on behalf of the CIA, under the 456 amendments to US code 3184, I'm extraditing this so-called Torchwood team to the United States of America. Now, get me out of here. Take me home.”

Ianto finds his eyes, wide and scared. He mouths ‘456?’ as an officer manhandles him away from Jack’s side. He shakes his head, hoping Ianto understands, as another cuffs him behind his back.

They’re all taken separately, straight back to tarmack for Jack. 

While in the police car, he does try scheming. Flirts with the PC, though it seems they’ve been instructed not to speak to them. He doesn’t have his lock pick, though even if he did it wouldn’t be much use. They’ve got no weapons, no reinforcements. His vortex manipulator is just a glorified heart monitor, absolutely useless. Even if he could send a distress signal- who’d pick it up? Certainly not the Doctor, the bastard. UNIT? No, they’ve never been too fond of Jack- even with Martha’s good word. John Hart is out of the question, he’d beam down guns blazing and make things worse. Sarah Jane wouldn’t be too horrible, she’s brilliant- maybe he can reprogram it to find Mr. Smiths’ signal? Though, better not. Can’t rope another kid into this mess, and Luke would follow along. All his contacts are halfway across the universe- and he’s a tad unprepared. Serves him right for letting the maintenance go on this thing. 

Jack watches out the window. They’re surrounded by cop cars, though he can see Rhys and Anwen in the one behind him. Gwen and Ianto must be up ahead- he hopes Andy got one of the two, so they can give him an earful. 

“Get out.” The PC grunts, opening Jack’s door. The maneuvering is awkward, while cuffed. 

He hears Gwen, Rhys and Ianto putting up a fight outside. Jack’s resigned. They’re getting on that plane whether they like it or not, better start thinking up plans for escape when they touch down in America. 

“They can't do this! I'm a British citizen on British soil!” Gwen screams. Jack cringes. They’ve got Ianto across from him, who's putting up a good fight. He finds Jack’s eyes once he realizes he’s gotten out of the car, asking desperately what to do. Jack hangs his head. 

“Yeah? Well, you've been too busy watching aliens.” Rhys scoffs, trying (and failing) to stamp on the PC next to him. “The fact is the Americans have been getting away with this sort of stuff for years.”

Rex laughs. He motions for the officers to line them up. “Hey, what? That supposed to be criticism?” Rex gets in Rhys’ face, grinning ear to ear. “What are you gonna do, write to your MP?” 

Jack tunes him out, as Harriet Smith comes to mind. She would have been helpful, right about now. Someone sympathetic to Torchwood in office would be fantastic right now. 

Lois Habiba?  No, he’d have no clue how to contact her in the first place. Maybe once they touch down. 

“And you, World War Two, I’ll take this.”

Rex points to his Vortex Manipulator. Ianto, on Gwen’s right, freezes. 

“It’s useless.” Jack says, straight faced. Not even a lie. 

Rex grabs his arm, strapping it off. “Then you won’t mind me having it.” 

Rex storms off with it, leaving Jack to feel useless. 

Ianto stretches, finding Jack’s eyes over Gwen’s head. Baby Anwen looks terrified, grasping out for Gwen from whichever PC has her in their arms. 

“It is useless, isn’t it?” Ianto asks, not letting on too much. He’s wondering if Jack’s been thinking what he’s been thinking, then. 

Jack sighs. “Yep.” 

Ianto nods, tightly. Back to square one for him, then. “No chance anyones gonna notice, either? We’ve been too deep undercover.” 

Jack nods his head Ianto's way, just letting him figure that one out. 

“Oh fantastic!” Gwen laughs, knocking shoulders with Ianto. “Neither of you bothered to tell anyone when you realized something was up.” 

Ianto shrugs, no use arguing with Gwen now. 

The group is quiet for a moment, thoughts racing. Jack’s coming up empty, and it seems Gwen is too. “How's your arm?” She asks. 

“I'll survive. I'm mortal, not dying. Well, technically I guess I am dying, but slowly.” Jack jokes, though neither Gwen or Ianto seem to accept the levity. 

Gwen purses her lips. “This thing that's happening to the world, this miracle, it must have something to do with you.” She sounds, unexpectedly, bitter. Jack furrows his brow. 

“Great, so it's my fault?”

“Can't be a coincidence, Jack.” She snaps. 

Rhys chimes in, just as Ianto opens his mouth. “Of course it's not a coincidence. Doesn't mean to say it's his fault.”

Jack screws his face up, smiling “Rhys, are you defending me?”

“No but-” He chuckles. “It's like we all got switched, isn't it? Nothing to do with Jack if the wires got crossed. Everything mortal becomes immortal, so everything immortal becomes mortal. See? I can be useful.” 

Ianto nods, like he’s got a point. He doesn’t get to voice it though, since Rex makes his way back over, and they all shut up. 

“Come on, let's go.” He calls out. Whoever he was talking to must have riled him up. “Get 'em. Take the husband back to Wales.” 

Gwen reacts first, trying to break away again, this time toward Rhys. 

“Jack! No!” Rhys calls.

The four struggle, suddenly being torn apart and toward the plane. Ianto elbows his PC in the crotch, getting him to lax his grip only for a second. Gwen struggles aimlessly, pulling herself toward Rhys and Anwen. 

There's nothing Jack can do.  

Ianto looks toward him, eyes scared and wild. Jack wishes he wasn’t so accustomed to that expression. Jack shakes his head, trying to get him to relax, even as Rhys and Anwen get pulled away from them, and Gwen gets forcibly shoved onto the plane. Ianto can’t seem to hold his gaze when there's nothing more Jack can do but tell Gwen to give in. 

Chapter Text

Gwen is close to sobbing between them. Ianto’s got one hand grasped tightly around hers, no matter how awkward it is while handcuffed. Jack is staring straight forward, the way he gets when things have gone to absolute shit. That bloody American agent is sitting down two and one across from them, and his girlfriend right behind him. Otherwise, the plane is empty. 

There’s got to be someone they can contact, once they land. He’s sure Jack’s already thought of that though, so next steps: how are they getting out of American custody, for starters? He’s going to propose a good-old-fashion escape plan, though he’s not sure how easy that is from an airport. Better that than CIA offices, or a jail cell. Then, Ianto’s not sure. He’s got ideas, many that make him wish Tosh were here. She could handle the science, all those things none of the remaining members are qualified for. How are they going to recruit a scientist? Unless Jack has American contacts he doesn't know about. 

He figures a call to Martha can’t hurt- at the very least ask where her bloody Doctor is. Then ask if UNIT is looking into Alien origin (blood control? Probably not) or Morphic fields. God, he could stand to hear Martha’s voice right about now.  

“They’ve got the whole plane booked out for the prisoners.” Jack quips, though his voice doesn’t really make it sound quippy at all. He sounds frightened. “All on taxpayer dollars? Not bad.”

Ianto rolls his eyes, but Gwen is quick to snap. “I am not joking around with you Jack.”

“Hey,” Jack turns, eyes leveled at Gwen. “I had no idea Rex could even pull that stunt.” 

Ianto leans back in his chair, preparing for an argument. He hadn’t missed their squabbles, that's for sure, but put Gwen and Jack in an enclosed area and they will find something to argue over. 

“But you know the way it works, Jack.” Gwen’s lips form a line, staring straight ahead. “Every time anyone ever gets close to you, nobody has a normal life again. Owen and Tosh and now me and Ianto.” He’s close to cutting in, before Gwen rallies herself again. “And do you know what? It really, and I mean it really pisses me off. I’ve had a whole year to stew over it. What took you so long? We have to nearly explode before you turn up?” 

Jack looks at her, really stares for a moment. Like he can’t believe she’s said that. It’s not like she’s wrong, per se, but- 

“Did you miss me?” Jack asks instead, a small smile forming. 

Gwen rolls her eyes. “Yes, very much.” She knocks shoulders with him. “I started to think it'd be like some kind of fairy tale. Me, Rhys and Ianto all dead, and you'd just turn up out of the blue, and visit my granddaughter. I'd be a memory and you'd be exactly the same.”

Oh. Ianto bites the inside of his cheek to keep himself from talking. He’d hadn’t thought- he supposes he should have figured, Gwen would- she would feel just as betrayed, just as hurt by that. The way Jack leads his life. He hadn’t expected her to, well, say it outloud for him, is all. 

Jack’s got nothing to say on that, and he looks to Ianto for support. He’s not feeling particularly willing at the moment. 

“I’m here now, aren’t I?” He sighs, incredulously. He’s only saved from more of Gwen’s shouting by Rex standing up. 

“Alright, lovebirds. Let me ask you a question. What the hell is this thing? All it does is go bleep.” He holds out Jack’s vortex manipulator, and it does, as stated: bleep. Ianto rolls his eyes. 

“So give it back to me.” Jack holds Rex’s gaze, stern. Rex laughs. 

“Yeah, I'm sure you'd like that.” He hurls snide remarks at Jack like they've got some personal vendetta, more than just being annoyed. “What does it do, measure how mortal you are?” 

“You still don't believe us?” Ianto chimes in, begging Jack to wind down his defenses. They’re not getting anywhere by biting the man's head off every time he speaks. Leave the head biting for Gwen. 

“ Please .” 

“The whole world can't die, but I'm the one who's being ridiculous?” Jack makes a big show of rolling his eyes. 

“What happens to us when we get to America?” Ianto asks, both because he cares, and so Jack can take a hint. 

“Oh, you'll be interrogated.” He says simply, with a cunning smile. Ianto nods, he can deal with that, and they can certainly scheme their way out of an interrogation. 

“You stupid, tiny, bloody little man.” Gwen growles. “For starters, we don't know anything. And even if we did, why didn't you just ask ?” 

“Oh hey, listen. I'm sorry.” Rex holds out his hands, mocking frown on his face. “Maybe I didn't explain it earlier. I don't think you actually know anything. I mean, come on, look at you. You're not that bright. What you are is connected. And someone has made a link between that old Institute of yours and the Miracle. And now they want to kill you over it. So we work out what the connection is, and then we start to solve it.” 

If Ianto were CIA, he’d understand the plan. It might even be a good one, for bureaucratic idiots. It's good, though, Rex doesn’t think they’re bright. That's an advantage if he’s ever heard one. He’s leveraging a plan, letting Rex tire himself out on superiority. If only he had a second to talk down Gwen and Jack, see what they think. 

“So is anyone doing investigations on morphic fields?”

All the eyes on the plane turn to Jack, including Ianto’s. ‘ Not bright , ’ for christs sake. 

“On the what fields?" 

He doesn’t let Jack stumble, though he knows Jack really doesn’t have a passable knowledge in Morphic fields. That was Tosh’s project, and by extension, Ianto heard his fair share of it. It had been an interesting one, though Tosh had never figured out why Jack had asked her to dig into it. Maybe this was it. 

“The Sheldrake theory.” He says. “The passing of connective information through the process of morphic resonance.” 

Rex squirms. So, no one is looking, then. “I'm sure it is.”

“The theory states that a bunch of monkeys on an island learn how to use a rock as a knife, then a bunch of monkeys on another island ten thousand miles away also learn how to use a rock as a knife, because they're connected through a morphic field.” Direct quote from Tosh, that is. Still, he savours the look on Rex’s face. 

“Come on now, that's just science fiction.”

“Except it's not a theory.” Jack’s turn, and he takes the lead as if Ianto’s wound him up like a top. “It's a fact. And the amazing thing about this is not that no one's dying, it's not that the human race has become immortal. It's that it happened to everyone at the same time. ” 

“Don't you see?” Ianto leans into Rex’s space. They have the man hooked, maybe he’ll be a good asset. “It was instantaneous. And that's a morphic event on a scale that no one has seen before. So whatever happened to us, it is massive.”

“Good to know you two still talk like bloody twins. It’s worse now, if you're wondering.” Gwen gripes. The vortex manipulator beeps again, and Rex stares. 

“By the way, your sodium is low.” Jack grins, shooting Ianto a smile. 

“My what?”

“That bleeping. It's found low sodium levels in your blood.” Jack grins. 

“You need salt.” Ianto smiles, the one he uses when he’s being extra cheeky. 

Rex looks between the three of them, smiles and (on Gwen’s part) pouting, and blinks a few times. Then, his signature, annoyed bark of a laugh. “Oh, boy. That's good.”

He acts like it's the stupidest thing he’s ever heard, but Ianto can hear him in the back, talking to his ‘Doctor Juarez.’ 

Once they’re proven right, he calls for the steward. “Danny, bring me some pretzels. The salty kind.” Danny brushes off to go fetch them. “So listen, meet me at the airport in six hours. And if you bring the painkillers, I'll let you examine the last mortal man in the world.”  

Ianto grips his pants leg tighter. No way in hell is he letting that happen. No one goes near Jack, especially not now. Not when Ianto has no clue what to do, especially in the worst case scenario. He needs Jack well, and alive, and with him; not just because Jack is good, or his boss. He just- he needs Jack. 

The three of them need to talk, and he and Jack need to figure out what to do now that he can be injured. What's the protocol there? Where does he even begin? Jack’s a 51st century man, and one whose well over 2,000, by the best estimate. Whatever that means for Jack’s physiology, his literal day-to-day health, Ianto has no clue. 

Jack and Gwen gripe over not getting water, though Ianto wishes they’d argue for a cup of tea. He’s got a headache coming on, which neither of them are helping with. 

“Thanks.” Jack says, taking the coke. 

“When do we land?” Gwen demands, holding the cup between her cuffed hands. 

Danny the steward eyes her, tilting his head. “Still not allowed to talk.” 

Jesus Christ. 

Gwen goes on about her prickly roses, which Ianto finds quite hilarious and Jack seems puzzled by. He does raise the point that's got to be a danger to Anwen, but Gwen seems more prepared to steer her toddler away from bushes rather than teach her daughter how to shoot an intruder. Ianto relents. Jack leans his head back in the chair, looking a little worse for wear. 

“You alright, Jack?” Ianto asks, leaning over toward him. Jack purses his lips, nodding. 

“Fine, yeah.”

Gwen glances at Ianto, furrowing her brow. Ianto nods. “You sure?” She asks. 

Jack, with his eyes closed, nods tightly. He’s not being incredibly convincing. 

“Jack,” Ianto stands, shifting his weight so he doesn’t topple over on the plane. “What's wrong?” 

Rex is up just as soon as Ianto, and Jack stands between the two of them, although he starts tipping over into Ianto as soon as he plants his feet. 

“Jack?” Gwen sounds panicked, and Rex tugs on Jack’s coat. 

“Back in your seat.” Rex says. 

Jack, although still in Ianto’s range, falls forward. “I’m going to be sick.” 

Ianto’s heart rate picks up, scrambling despite his cuffed hands to grab for Jack. Rex steps in between them. “It's all right. I'll take him.” 

Ianto doesn’t know what to do, other than let Rex guide Jack away. He sits down next to Gwen, and she turns to him: worry across her face. 

“Danny!” She calls, catching the stewards attention, even if he’s not allowed to talk. “Do you have any Dramamine back there?” 

Jack retches, from the back of the plane, and Ianto feels his heart drop to his stomach. Gwen squeezes his knee, though the touch and the sound are driving Ianto into overstimulation. He’s got no clue what to do- Jack’s never been sick before. This isn’t at all normal. He traces back whatevers happened since they boarded- it can’t just be airsickness. But all Jack’s had is a Coke? Unless- 

“I'm sorry, we didn't have time for a handover. There's no medication.” Danny winds back around to Gwen, holding his hands up. 

“Don’t talk to the prisoners!” Rex’s girlfriend shouts, still in her seat. Ianto stands, realization hitting him. 

“You gave him a drink- What did you do to it?” Ianto demands, toward Danny. The kid steps back, like Ianto could hit him. 

“Take it easy!” Rex shouts, bringing Jack back to his seat. 

“Are you saying I poisoned him?” Danny whispers, true terror in his voice. Oh, Ianto will show him something to be afraid of if he doesn’t fess up. 

“He drinks, he's sick. If you did anything, you'd better bloody tell me.” Ianto narrows his eyes, fists balling despite being cuffed. Gwen stands along with him, touching Jack’s head for fever. 

Danny stumbles, eyes wild. “I didn’t! I swear- she was with me!” Danny gestures toward Rex’s girlfriend. “I didn’t do anything!” 

Gwen shoots up, stepping between Rex, Danny and Ianto toward the woman. “You went to supervise- what do you need to supervise drinks for? What exactly did you supervise?” 

Ianto’s ready to push through Rex, but the man overpowers him without use of his hands. 

“Oh, are you accusing anyone now?” The woman rolls her eyes. 

“It's either you or the steward, my moneys on you bitch.” Gwen looks ready to bodily search her, and Danny backs further up from the center of the drama. 

“It's not me, I promise.” He squeaks. 

“Just search her, Rex.” Ianto steps back, finding his eyes. “Please, just search her.” 

Rex rolls his eyes again. “Look: no one can die.” He throws his hands up. 

“Oh yeah? What if you're wrong, Rex?” Gwen shouts, giving up on wriggling from her handcuffs. “What if your big success is two Welshmen and a dead body, huh? Just search her. That's all I'm saying. Search her. Rex, please, search her.” 

He can’t even begin to think about that. He’s never had to worry about Jack dying- he’s not starting now. He goes to Jack’s side, despite how horrific he looks: sickly and pale, sweat pouring down his face, his eyes closed in pain. Ianto holds a hand to his cheek, feeling warmth radiating beneath it. 

Rex relents, grabbing his poisoning girlfriend's handbag and pulling out a baggie of pills. 

“See! I told you!” Gwen shouts, trying to grab for it. Rex snatches it away. 

“Oh, you see medicine and your first thought is poison?” 

“What is it, then?” Rex turns to the woman, and shoves it toward her. “If it’s medicine you won’t mind taking it.” 

She rolls her eyes. “Obviously it's poison.” 

Rex’s eyes bulge, and Gwen starts throwing more of a fit to get her handcuffs off.  “Why would you-” He groans. “Stay there: what the fuck did you give him?” Rex cuffs her to the armrest. 

“I didn’t give him anything.” She insists, though Ianto can see straight through her. 

“Just tell us what it is.” He stands, keeping a hand on Jack’s shoulder. 

Rex turns back to him, as if balancing too many things, and reaches for Ianto’s hands. He uncuffs him, giving Ianto the bag. 

He rushes over toward Jack, dumping the contents out between them. “Here, here.” Gwen rushes over, peering over the top of the seats. “What do you think-?”

Jack struggles with moving, opening his eyes, but he cracks open one of the pills; white powder spilling out into his palm. He chuckles, though it sounds half hearted. “Cyanide.” He coughs. “Are my lips blue?”

Jack finds Ianto’s eyes, and Ianto grabs his chin; full use of his hands back. “No, no you’re just pale.”

Jack nods tightly. “That’s good, not cyanosis then.” His breath is ragged, though he keeps going. “I had a boyfriend who took arsenic for better skin, same consistency.” 

Ianto screws his face up, though mostly due to the absurdity. Rex, however: “Hold up, that was only ever a thing in the eighteen hundreds, what was he doing taking arsenic?”

Jack smirks. “It was 1892.” 

“Never mind that,” Gwen slaps the seat between them. “Focus. Look, how do you fix arsenic poisoning?”   

Rex reaches around, grabbing for his phone, and in doing so throws Gwen the keys so she can un-cuff herself. Ianto places a hand on Jack’s knee, frozen in time for just a moment. 

Jack finds his eyes. Ianto can, if he can do one thing, read this man. He knows Jack, he knows when a look means run or a look means meet me in the archives or a look means save yourself. He has no clue what to do, and Jack’s eyes fall closed. 

“Jack, Jack,” Ianto says, shaking him. “Jack please, oh god , Jack what should we- I don’t know what to do. Jack.” 

Gwen’s following Rex, who's shouting something at his doctor friend. Ianto can’t focus, can’t tear his eyes off of Jack. Gwen’s shouting something at the phone, but the sound isn’t hitting his ear right. 

He holds Jack’s cheek, begging for him to keep his eyes open. “I don’t know what to do- I don’t-”

“Ianto!” Gwen shouts, and he can’t keep ignoring her. “Laptop fuel cells,” and off of his look, “Antitoxin, c’mon! C’mon!” 

Ianto’s up and on his feet before he can comprehend the instructions, though his hands seem to understand. He smashes the back of someone’s laptop (hopefully the bitch who poisoned Jack) and finds the fuel cell. The rest of the machine crumbles onto the floor as Gwen calls them all into the back of the plane. 

“Right,” She says, lowering the woman’s locket into the kettle. “Where's the dichloroethane? We need dichloroethane. Dichloroethane . It's in degreaser.” She’s absolutely manic. 

“Oh. We don’t have that.” One of the stewardesses say, quiet as a mouse. 

Both Gwen and Ianto turn to her, focus drawn in. “Don’t say that Greta. You must have it somewhere.” 

The girl looks scared out of her mind, with Gwen’s eyes on her. “We don’t use it. I’m sorry- it’s just part of the automated system.” 

“The automated system.” Ianto repeats. “The automated system?” 

“The ARCS, it's like uh- a de-icer! There's a central pump and then there's the tubing that distributes it throughout the plane!” 

“Oh my god, tubing ?” 

Greta furrows her brow. “Yes, it’s uh, it’s orange?”

Ianto shucks off his suit jacket, rolling up his sleeves. “Where’s the tubing?”

“In the floor?” 

Ianto’s on his hands and knees at the front of the plane, Gwen beside him in an instance. There’s some commotion about ripping up the floor from the attendants, but- christ Ianto is willing to bring down this plane if it means Jack survives. 

Nothing under the 1st panel- all wires, and Rex directs the staff to start ripping up different pieces of flooring.

“Careful with that.” Rex instructs, and god could he care less. 

“Worried there, Rex? This might all be your fault.” Ianto snaps. “You put us on this plane. There's no fucking orange tube!” He throws his hands up, over to the next paneling. 

“Is there something between you two?” Rex’s voice is distant, kind of like a pest. 

He doesn’t even think before he opens his mouth. “Yes, he’s my boyfriend. Where do you use bloody degreaser!” 

“Where needs grease?” Gwen points, following her idea. “Wheels! Danny wheres the- the landing shit located?” 

“Uh- over here?” Danny taps his foot, glancing below him. 

“Move it.” Rex shoves the kid, on his hands and knees tearing the panel up. 

Ianto catches Jack- just out of the corner of his eye. He’s still drifting- eyes mostly lidded, as though he’s doing all he can to follow along. He’s torn away by Gwen’s shrieking. 

“Oh yes yes yes, Rex- your knife!”

“Wait a minute, wait a minute. We've got to be careful because it's not labeled. If it's part of the oil system, we're screwed.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Gwen dives in, and Ianto shoulder checks Danny to collect it in a paper cup. “That's beautiful, oh yes.”

As a team, he and Gwen move fast. Perfected in those long gone months after Jack abandoned them. They’re on their feet and back to the kitchenette in seconds. 

“Final ingredient-- touch of cyanide.” Gwen twists the pill, adding just a drop. Ianto’s heart stops. 

“Are you sure that's right?”

“Chelation means replacing one toxic substance with another. It's not enough to kill him. Promise.” 

Danny rounds back, brandishing a syringe. “There. I knew diabetes would be useful one day.”

Ianto grabs it, reaching toward Gwen and the concoction. “Lovely.” 

Gwen puts a steadying hand on his shoulder, as he fills the syringe up to the top line. There's quiet for a moment, until they all brush back to Jack. 

“He'll need help with his coat.” Ianto says, getting on his knees in front of Jack, pulling off his own tie. In any other circumstance- 

Gwen pushes Jack up by the shoulders as Rex slides the coat off. As soon as he can, Ianto pushes up Jack’s sleeve. “Be careful with his coat. That's it, that's it. Quick as you can.”

“I heard cyanide.” Jack whispers, only for Ianto to hear. 

“Just- trust me, Jack. You’re going to be fine.”

“No, you won't. Don't let them do this. They’ll kill you.” The woman shouts, though she sounds half hearted. 

“Shut up.” 

He taps Jack’s wrist, using his tie as a tourniquet, and finding a vein. Keeping his hands steady, Ianto spares himself one last look at Jack before he does it. 

“You're not filling me with confidence.” 

He must see how terrified he is. 

“Quiet.” Ianto grits his teeth, preparing the needle. “Alright, hold still.” 

Before he can begin, a leg comes flying into Ianto’s face. Her shoe only misses his nose by mere centimeters. 

“Whoa!” Rex shouts, and Gwen jumps around Ianto. 

“That was your last chance.” Gwen stands between Jack, the woman, and Rex: who doesn’t make a move to stop her.

“Yeah, and what are you gonna do about it?” The woman scoffs. “If you're the best England’s got to offer- you are screwed.”  

“I’m Welsh.” With one swing, and perfect aim, the woman falls to the floor at Gwen’s feet. Danny raises his hand. 

“I’ve got it!”

Ianto grabs the syringe back from him, inspecting it for just a second. Jack- god help them - Jack looks like he’s about to have a seizure. He injects him, desperately trying to steady his hand enough to administer it evenly. 

Jack hisses, pulling his arm back before seizing. 

“Jack?” Gwen presses in front of Rex, and down by Ianto. 

“I’m sorry- I’m- Jack?” Ianto’s frozen, watching. There’s nothing else he can do. It’s got to work, it's got to. “Jack, please. Oh my god, no-”

“The doctor said it would burn.” Gwen whispers, her hand on his back. 

“Please say it’s working, Jack. Jack?” He wipes his eyes quickly, not willing to look away despite how horrific it is. Jack’s writhing- that's the best he can describe it as. He’s writhing in pain; rapid breathing; biting down on his lip. “ Please , Jack.” 

“Yes- yes!” Jack grits out, hands gripping Ianto’s forearm. 

“It’s working?”

“Yes!” Jack sounds exasperated, which is good considering he’d been on death's door a moment ago. 

“Nice work.” Rex breathes a sigh, though Ianto’s not paying much attention. He grabs Jack’s cheeks once the worst of the fit has passed, and kisses him. 

He is not one for big, romantic gestures, but he’s even less enthralled with close calls. Jack’s close calls specifically. So, sue him. 

Jack melts into the kiss, as if he’s breathing in life again; one day he hopes this will be far away enough to make a Snow White joke, or something equally as obnoxious. Not today, though; not with Ianto’s cheeks wet from tears he hadn’t recalled letting fall, and Jack breathing normally again. 

When Ianto pulls away, which he must despite his body calling to stay exactly there, Rex grabs him and cuffs him again. 

“Alright Romeo, shows over.” He’s shoved into the seat next to Jack. “I am returning with four happy, healthy prisoners. Sit down.”

Chapter Text

Their escape is honestly, lacking. With a little bit less chatting on Rex’s end, and without their quick thinking he’s sure it wouldn’t have worked. Still, they make it outside and into this blonde woman’s car before anyone notices the wanted criminals walking around. 

Jack is crammed up next to him, then Rex, with Gwen and this new woman up front. 

“Oh Rex, she’s gorgeous. You sure Dr. Juarez isn’t your girlfriend.” Gwen chuckles. Ianto swats at her, though he had mirrored her gaze down Dr. Juarez’s legs. “If I weren’t a married woman.” She sinks back down into her seat. 

Rex groans. “Do you only hire gay people? Is that Torchwood’s deal? Some big gay British secret agency?”

Jack likes that, chuckling. “Gay, and they’ve got to stalk me.” He beams, cheeky bastard.

“Oi!” Ianto turns in his seat, cheeks burning, but Gwen laughs too. Cats already out of the bag, though. He can’t believe he was so stupid - calling Jack his boyfriend. He sounds like a kid. If Jack heard him… 

“Ianto you’ve got to admit that ones funny.” Gwen glances at him in the rearview. “Did we ever figure out if Owen was? Complete set, then?”

Jack shakes his head, but it’s Ianto’s turn to grin. “Oh, definitely.” He’s savored this information far too long, and if Jack can bring up arsenic-taking-boyfriends he can do whatever he pleases.  

Jack whips his head around, brow furrowed and smirking. “No. You didn’t?”

Whatever Jack is thinking, Ianto puts his hands up. “No, just- while you were away, early on so Owen still had a chip on his shoulder we went clubbing. Supposed to be on duty, but.” Ianto follows Jack’s eyes, trailing down him. Gwen listens, enraptured. “You know Owen, I owed him a drink for shooting him. Somehow we ended up back at his.”

Jack shoves Ianto, playfully, and Gwen laughs her head off.

“You didn’t tell me you had sex with Owen? With Owen?” Gwen gasps, twisting to look at him.

“I wasn’t exactly proud of it.” Ianto rolls his eyes. “And, Owen would have done worse than shoot me in the shoulder if I told you.“

Gwen laughs, and Jack finds Ianto’s hand, unsubtly squeezing it between their thighs.

“Is that what y’all did, beside ‘fighting aliens:’ screw each other?”

Jack ponders that. “Yeah… I’d say about a third of the time?” He looks at Ianto with raised brows.

Rex heaves a great, annoyed sigh. “Awesome.”

Rex is far too mean to Esther, the poor kid. Ianto likes her; she’s sweet, good hearted, and bright. Gwen takes a shine to her too, when she translates from British English to American. 

“Well, think next time!” Rex shouts, storming around. 

It’s not even that bad, all things considered. They’re trying to contact Gwen’s family as they speak- and Ianto’s got to call Rhiannon. Esther deserves to know her sister is safe. 

“Come on, Rex. She's not used to this.” Gwen says, still typing. 

“Well, I'm not used to this either.” He snatches up the rest of the gauze Gwen was able to track down. “It doesn't make me stupid.” 

“That's enough, okay?” Ianto shouts, and Rex stops in his tracks. 

“And who the hell put you in charge?” He glares, though standing in front of him shirtless with a gaping wound is not the least intimidating. 

“I think the CIA did.” Jack clears his throat, sitting up. “You're a member of Torchwood now, whether you like it or not. Ianto pulls rank over you, so listen up.” 

“I'm sorry, okay?” Esther’s voice shakes. “I really am. I just, I've never done all this before. You guys have. I sit at my desk and read blogs for a living. Rex, it's my sister. She's just. She's not well.” 

“Yeah, it's irrelevant.” 

He cannot believe him. Ianto goes to sit by Esther, squeezing her shoulder as he passes over to her left. “I tried to do a search on morphic fields,” Jack says. “Because that's the best that I could work out, that some sort of morphic field suspended the human race. But oh, it's got to be more than that.” 

“What do you mean?” Ianto tilts his head. 

“It’s like- Owen and Suzie were powered by the energy behind the risen mittens.” Jack explains, and the rest of the party follows his gaze. “There must be some sort of energy behind this. A- a will, a drive, a consciousness, because this miracle, it's more than people just surviving. They are so alive.”

Like you, Ianto thinks. He wonders if that's crossed his mind- could whatever happened to Jack, be happening now? Some sort of fissure in time, a weird fixation on this moment?  

“I've seen bodies at the morgue, burnt and broken, still alive, staring right at me. They weren't even allowed to be unconscious. It's as if some thing is willing them to go on, each and every individual forced into life.” 

“You’ve seen this happen before?” Rex questions, eyes bright and wide. 

Gwen shrugs. “Sort of. We used to have this technology that could bring someone back to life for a short period of time.”

“The Risen Mitten,” Ianto jumps in. “which drew its power from- what did we decide?”

“Empathy.” Jack leans back, not sounding all too thrilled by that. “But the second, that drew its power from the afterlife.” 

“Yeah,” Ianto waves a hand around. “So: we had a friend walking around who was dead, after we used it on him.”

“Worked too well, he’d always say.” Gwen chirps. Her smile falters a little though. “But this can’t- this is so much bigger than the glove?”

“You're telling me you had some- some zombie friend? That is some straight up bullshit.” Rex complains. 

“No it’s true.” Jack raises his brow. “Dr. Owen Harper; King of the Weevils, total asshole. You’d love him.” 

“Owen?” Rex’s jaw drops. “Not the same Owen that…”

“Yes.” Ianto says, tightly. 

Esther smiles, though she looks confused more than anything. “Did you sleep with him before or after he’d-”

“ Before .” Ianto groans, though a smile tugs on his lips. 

“So what did the search say?” Esther asks Jack, clearly cutting him some slack. 

“Well, that's the problem. Everybody's had the same idea. ‘Morphic field’ gets ten million results.”

Esther beams beside him, lighting up the room. “Then I'll go through them, all ten million.” She turns straight to her computer. He can help out, hell, it's the closest he’s been to archival work since the Hub exploded. “See, that's what I do when I'm at my desk. Hard work.” 

Ianto gives Esther a grin. “Let me help, this was my job too before Jack exploded it.” 

Rex just can’t let up, and stands over Esther’s shoulder. “He cockblocked the ATF.” 

“I have no idea what any of that means.” Gwen stifles a laugh. 

“The ATF's the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives.” Esther informs. “They asked the CIA about information on a warehouse here in Washington, but Friedkin forwarded the request onto ancillary three times.”

“What's ancillary?” Gwen gets up too, all four of the crowded around Esther’s monitor. 

“It's a paper chase. It's a guaranteed way to lose something in the system.” Rex smirks. 

“So if he tried to stop people from seeing the warehouse, then maybe he was paid to protect it, which would indicate there's something in there. It's at Third and Boston, southwest.” Esther pulls up a map of the area, pointing at the warehouse from a birds eye view. 

“All right,” Rex claps. “So we've got a mission. First thing we need to do is steal a new car.” 

Someone still thinks he’s in charge. 

“Ahem.” Ianto coughs, giving Jack a sideways grin. “Who's giving the orders again?”

Rex deflates, rolling his eyes. “Okay, Torchwood, what do you say?”

Jack bounces up, grabbing his coat off the hook. “We need to steal a new car.” 

Rex goes off on his own, when searching, and leads them past the double door. Inside, the warehouse is huge, staked all the way up to the ceiling with PhiCorp labeled boxes of painkillers. The balcony they’re on (which only hangs at half the height of the pillars full of drugs) looks out and over; silence falls over the party, and Jack takes Ianto’s hand. 

“These are all painkillers?” Gwen gasps, brow furrowed. She leans over the side, like she expects something to storm them from the bottom. 

“They’re ready for a war.” Jack says, voice low. Ianto has a different guess- though he can’t blame Jack for thinking that. 

“No,” Rex breathes, a hand drawing up to his damaged chest. “They’re ready for the Miracle . PhiCorp knew it was coming.” 

“Lets go-” Ianto whispers, itching to get out of here. “The cops will be coming any minute.”

Despite his tugging on Jack’s arm, he stays stuck for a moment; eyes glazed over, until he follows behind. 

They’ve got until tomorrow night, before Rex is going to try his instructor. None of the team are sure it's going to work- but Martha’s phone goes straight to voicemail. Jack sets out a plan to call Sarah Jane sometime tomorrow, but from there: there's no one readily available. 

They settle in for a long night, no one really willing to sleep; though they all need it. Ianto’s been awake since they’d left Gwen’s two days ago. The abandoned building they’re in doesn’t offer much for amenities, but they each section off a room, and Gwen (still trying to reach Rhys) takes first watch. 

Jack stretches out, hanging up his coat and looking around at the shabby conditions. “Your boyfriend, huh?” Jack smirks, stepping back towards him. 

Ianto freezes minutely, stopping mid undoing his cuffs. Though, with Jack’s hands gripping his waist, he’s going to melt into the man in spite of himself. “Oh. You heard that.” He whispers. 

Jack manhandles him to face him, leaning Ianto against the chair. “Yeah, yeah I heard that.” Jack kisses him, short and sweet. “Though, you were under duress.” 

Jack is giving him an out; a chance to take it back, return to normal ‘no labels,’ not discussing what Ianto is to him. He breathes in, and doesn’t take it. 

“If you- if something horrible did happen to you,” Ianto says, instead. Jack tilts his head. “What do you want me to do?” 

He’d had no clue what to do when Lisa ‘died.’ He’d been the only person left to tell her family. He didn’t know what she would have wanted, he didn’t know what was right; what was wrong. He couldn’t even bring himself to attend the funeral her parents planned, even though there was no body to be found. 

He doesn’t want to be lost, if the worst happens. He won’t do that again.  

Jack looks puzzled, the crease between his brows evident. “Ianto, lets not-”

“No.” He says, holding tighter to Jack’s shoulders; keeping him in place. He savors the closeness. “No, because I am not ever doing that again. So- I don’t know. Write me a list or something.”

“What do you mean?” He asks, breath on Ianto’s cheek. He sighs. 

“If you-” he can’t say it, it's practically unfathomable. “If something bad happened, and I needed to contact someone who would help you. Or, people you’d like to see, I don’t- anyone.” 

Jack leans forward again, kissing him. This time, it's slow, soft; none of their usual heat. Almost as if Jack is grateful. “I’ve never thought about who I’d want at my funeral. Never had to.” He pulls away, just slightly. 

“I didn’t say funeral.” Ianto corrects. He can’t- he won’t plan for that; not now and not ever. 

“Well, then,” Jack turns it over in his head. “I can… I don’t even know? Alice wouldn’t come, and the Doctor isn’t exactly easy to get a hold of.”

“Martha can- she’s got a direct line.”

“I’m not sure he’s picking up anymore.” Jack sighs. “All the shit we’ve seen, and he’s a no-show? I think he’s left and forgotten about us.” 

Ianto holds his breath. “The bastard.”

Jack chuckles. “You said it.” 

Silence hangs over them. The sort that was so rare back in the hub, and so common in the little cottage. He doesn’t know how to feel, in silence; doesn’t know how to breathe in it. “Please just, think about it, alright?”

Jack nods. “I will. But you won’t- I’ll make sure to be a little more cautious, alright?”

Ianto can’t help but laugh. “In our line of work? I won’t hold you to it.” 

Rex storms off in a rage, his hissy fit leaving a wound in the group none of them had expected. The contact was a bust, and so is Sarah Jane. Though, at the very least Jack gets to speak to her (via Mr. Smith) without worry they’re putting Luke in danger. She said she’ll do what she can, but that the Smith’s are staying home. Ianto can’t blame her. 

“Have you heard from him?” Jack asks, lower than before. If Ianto weren’t already eavesdropping, he would start then. 

“No.” Sarah Jane mumbles. Ianto bites the inside of his cheek. “I was hoping you had.” 

Jack groans, running a hand through his hair. He elected not to tell Sarah Jane he was mortal. “I keep thinking he’s moved on, off to some other Earth or-”

“He’d never.” Sarah Jane is quick. “If he- if he’s the same man I traveled with. He would never.”

Jack hums, and drops the thread of conversation. 

“Hey, if you’re willing: I’ve got two of my team here who’ve got family in Wales. Would you keep an eye on them?” Jack asks, instead. 

“Of course, Jack.” Sarah Jane’s voice is soft; maternal almost. “Your family is mine, what are their names?” 

Without Rex, and without a car; the team wanders. Esther and Gwen stand close to one another, Esther’s head on Gwen’s shoulder, speaking softly. 

Jack tugs on Ianto’s sleeve, glancing over toward a bar called the: ‘Golden Gopher.’ Ianto rolls his eyes. “I’m a mortal man, Ianto.” He smirks. “Mortal needs.” 

Ianto can’t say no to that, and they duck away from Esther and Gwen, who’re shouting after them.  

Only after Jack drags him away, and into the club, does he remember he hasn’t gone clubbing since before Owen died. And he’s never been to a gay club.

There's American men five years younger than him with perfect bodies eyeing him up. Men who hardly give him a glance before rolling their eyes, and men with eyes like Jack, that seem to mentally undress him and like what they imagine. Jack’s grasp on his hand gets tighter, until he drops him off at the bar. 

“Be good.” Jack whispers in his ear, making his way off to do god knows what. 

The bartender is quick to tend to Ianto, where he finds a bowl of sobriety chips. That's just horrible. While Ianto inspects them, the bartender shouts over the deafening music: “What can I get you?”

The man is thin, but muscular. He’s wearing a vest, cropped dark hair and eyes. Attractive, in the way most Americans make themselves, however inexplicably. Ianto leans in. “Manhattan. Two, please.”

The man’s eyes bulge, just a bit, giving way to a toothy smile. “Your accent- where are you from?” 

Ianto blushes, finally looking in the man's eyes. “Wales,” and on the man’s confused look. “It’s in England.” 

“It’s adorable.” The man’s smile broadens, and he goes to pour the drinks. See, this is fine, he thinks. No one’s going to eat him alive, nor is it scandalous he’s a bisexual in a gay club. Everyone he knows already knows he’s queer, why not breathe easy. Rhiannon would never let him hear the end of it, if she ever found out. 

Jack returns just as the bartender does, and of course receives just as much interested eye contact. “Awesome coat.” He says, checking Jack out as he hands over the drinks. “This your boyfriend?”

“Sure is.” Jack says, eyes lowered, hand across Ianto’s back. If he didn’t know Jack, he’d say he was coveting. “And you are?” There it is. 

“Available, and off work in an hour.” 

Jack raises his brow, and glances at Ianto. Is he really suggesting…? Ianto corrects himself instantly. It’s Jack. Yes he is.  

Ianto shrugs, why the fuck not: he’s immortal, Jack’s mortal, and the world might be ending. Why not shag the sexy bartender? Jack takes his cue. 

“We’re free all night, but,” Jack downs his drink in one swallow. The man watches his Adam's apple bob along with Ianto. “Let's have another round.” 

"Ianto, I was- I was thinking." Jack whispers, though he's not doing his best. The bartender- Corey, he's been told- is bound to wake up. Ianto's pressed between the two men, which truly isn't a bad place to find oneself warm, drunk, and exhausted. He turns to Jack anyway. The bed sheets are scratchy, and Ianto suspects the bartender does this often. His bed is huge, fit for three. There’s a window open, though, letting in a wonderful cool breeze. 

"You're drunk, stop thinking." Ianto whispers back, though he is closer to mouthing words. Jack rolls his eyes.

"I was thinking about- about how you're immortal, and I'm mortal."

Ianto's blood turns cold. No, he's not doing this; not talking like that.

"No." He says, coldly. "Not now."

"But- Ianto," Jack grabs his face with one hand, turning his chin. Ianto follows, despite himself. "We're good, yeah? You, me, and Gwen: we make a great team."

He nods, but keeps his eyes down.

"We don't need anybody else." Jack says, his gaze pointed. Ianto hates when he starts talking like this, leading him with a riddle to unwrap whatever true meanings under his coded language. "If anything happened- I don't need anybody else."

"I- Jack." He threads his fingers into Jack's, holding tightly. "I can't do this right now."

"Do what?" Jack moves just a smidge closer. He feels like he's going to suffocate between them.

He avoids Jack's eyes because- what is he supposed to say? He can't lose someone again? Can't go through the pain of losing someone he loves- someone he loves so all consuming, despite how much he hates it. He barely survived losing Lisa. He doesn't know how he made it all those months, in the oppressive silence in the hub, after Owen and Tosh. He knows, deep down in the darkest parts of his mind, he won't survive losing Jack.

"I can't-" He weighs his options; honesty, or deflection? The worlds changed overnight, and Ianto picks honesty. "I can't lose somebody. Not again."

Jack blinks a few times, slowly following the thread of conversation.

"Oh." He mumbles.

"So don't- don't , alright?" He lets Jack kiss his palm, cheeks growing hot. "And if you do, tell me what I'm supposed to do after you?"

His hearts’ banging against his ribs, and the words come out all tangled up. He shuts his eyes, so he can't see Jack's reaction. He can't bear it.

Jack throws an arm around his shoulder, and lets Ianto hide himself in his chest. If he's holding back tears, he'll blame it on being drunk. He bites the inside of his cheek.

"You keep going." Jack says, very quietly now. Like he's sobered up a bit. "You and Gwen, go home. Be there for Anwen's birthdays. Find someone nice. Be normal."

Ianto can't believe that, coming from him. There's no normal after Jack. He should know that. "I won't do that."

"Yes, you will." Jack assures. "You- for me? You have too, yeah?" 

Ianto breathes, trying to find some composure while pressed into Jack's chest; hidden from the rest of the world.

"Well, don't." Ianto huffs, trying for laughter and failing miserably. "And neither of us will have to find out what'll happen."

Jack hums, though he doesn't sound too convinced.

Chapter Text

Ianto and Jack stumble in the late morning, both reeking and hungover. 

“We slept with the bartender.” Ianto whispers conspiratorially into her ear, while leaning over her shoulders. Gwen laughs. 

“Now who sounds like Owen!” She gives him a slight shove, which Jack steadies when Ianto tips over into him. 

“Oh god I’d forgotten about them!” Jack laughs, loud and hearty. “He never did actually bang those two, did he?”

Gwen makes a face, and Esther listens with the interest of someone left out a private joke. Rex just listens, disdain for Jack written across his face. “No, though Tosh and I had a hand in making sure of that.” Gwen chuckles. 

“If only Owen were here.” Ianto laughs too, more privately. Jack’s face falls, and pulls Ianto closer by the belt loop.  

Gwen marks those moments in her mind, saving them for a quieter moment with Ianto. Hopefully, just Ianto. Esther’s a wonderful kid, but… it’s not the hub, is it? If she were Tosh, Gwen wouldn’t have thought twice, but Esther’s here, and she’d never consider asking around Rex. She files those moments away though: the quiet way Jack guided Ianto through the airport, hand on his back; how Ianto clings to him coming in from their disastrous evening; Jack’s eyes sliding over to Ianto’s when Rex says something unfortunate; and how Ianto steps in front of Jack- seeing as he’s the immortal one now.

She can’t really believe it. Like watching children grow up. Her friends really found it. Jack reminds her of Rhys, the way his nervous energy always finds an outlet on Ianto’s thigh, his hands. And Ianto herself, wearing a strength that she hadn’t expected ever coming from him.

They’re well and truly in love.

She misses Rhys more than anything, and second Tosh. God- if Tosh were here she’d have someone to poke fun at them with. But between Esther and Rex, she doesn’t feel right ribbing them about this. Owen would, though. God, Owen would punch Rex for the things he says, and go right about asking Ianto how he’s taken to being the wife. The idiot.

Jack grabs Rex’s painkillers right from his hands, with some prejudice. “I thought we broke up?” He quips.

“Hey I need those for legitimate pain.” Rex grabs the bottle back. Ianto rolls his eyes. 

“So do I.” He says, turning to Ianto. “I am loving this hangover. I knew mortality would make life more intense. Ow!”

Ianto catches Jack as he stumbles over himself, and Jack leans into the touch. 

“You-” Rex shoves the bottle in his pockets, making a show of it. “Weren’t impaled.”  

“Ha. You should have seen the other guy.” Jack takes the pill, and swallows it dry. Rex rolls his eyes, very clearly grossed out. Ianto looks away, hiding a laugh. “Oh, that face.” Jack jokes, slumping into his chair. “Rex doesn't like his jokes too gay .” 

Ianto freezes, just minisculely. If she weren’t his best friend, she wouldn’t have noticed how the line of his shoulders stiffens. Rex stares between the two, looking caught out. 

“No, Rex doesn't like men in their forties acting like they're twenty.” He says. 

Ianto’s turn to roll his eyes. 

“ Forty? Oh, Rex, I'm flattered.” Jack presses a hand to his heart. “Try four thousand.” 

“If he can’t stand the thought of us shagging, I’d hate to see what he thinks of the age gap.” Ianto’s smile quirks, but Gwen catches the uneasiness in his voice. This kind of joking is new, evidently. Nothing like the ribbing Owen did, which lost its venom after Ianto had shot him. Rex is- well. Rex is American. Rex doesn’t know them like that.
Esther does chuckle at that, though, from her desk. 

“Alright alright, Ianto wins that round. Now, Rex, c’mon.” Gwen shoves his shoulder, and Rex trains himself back on her. “Esther is typing, watch.” 

“So!” Esther presents their hard work. “I can communicate with whoever is wearing the Eye-5s, simply by typing.” 

She writes: Hello Gwen, It's Esther. 

“Hello Esther, it’s Gwen.” She says, deliberately without looking at Rex’s monitor. “See?”

“Awesome.” Rex watches himself on the screen. “But there's no sound.” 

Jack rolls his eyes. “We lost the sound addition when the hub was destroyed- But it’s got lip reading tech.” 

“Say something.” Gwen prompts. 

“My name is Rex Matheson, representing the Central Intelligence Agency.” 

Esther’s computer spits out just that, a few seconds off, in a british accent. Rex marvels. 

“Hell yeah. I can work with this, now we’ve just got to get me inside.”

Gwen tuts, keeping the contact case close to her chest. “Nuh-uh. Eye-5s are biometrically tuned to Torchwood employees only-”

“Isomorphic.” Ianto chimes in, playing along. 

“Yes- that.” Gwen points. “So, I have to go in.” 

Esther snickers behind her, and types quickly. Liar! 

Gwen shuts the laptop on Rex’s lap. “Sorry to burst your bubble.” 

Rex just sits back in his chair, like she’s really ruined his day. Serves him right, no one nags her best friends but her. 

“And really Rex, didn’t you do your homework?” Ianto clears his throat, digging through files around them. The hangover seems to be wearing on him, but Jack looks dazed still. “First thing anyone learns about Jack after a second of digging is that he's ageless.” 

Rex just groans. “Sure, and how old are you- 600?”

“28.” Ianto smiles, that cheeky one he brings out for really annoying monsters. Gwen smiles privately, and Jack beams. 

Rex sputters for a moment, before putting that conversation aside at last. 

Chapter Text

With their information secured from Gwen’s mission into Jilly Kitzinger’s office, and Jack nursing some new bruises after his run-in with Oswald Danes: the gang is hitting Hollywood. Or, rather, Los Angeles. Same difference. It’s been decades since Jack’s been to this side of the Americas- and the car ride proves why. Twenty seven hundred miles squeezed between Rex Matheson and Gwen Cooper, in a compact car, is going to drive him to new levels of insanity not yet seen on Earth. Ianto got lucky, and gets the passenger's seat while Esther drives. The two seem to have hit it off, and they control the radio. Gwen’s got her head resting on the window, watching the passing nothingness. They’re halfway through Arizona, and any thread of conversation has fallen way to oscillating from listening to local DJs and local NPR stations. They’ve found some college radio playing 2000s hits, which is mostly unremarkable until- the opening chords of Toxic dings out. 

Jack can’t help but bark a laugh, though the rest of the car just stares at him. 

“What's so funny?” Esther asks, not annoyed. She’s got the cute smile on her face, as if she’s anticipating one of Jack’s otherworldly stories. 

If Rex really is bothered by Jack’s many lives, he keeps his head down. Jack grins her direction, taking the bait. “A good friend of mine loved this song.” He smiles broadly. Ianto finds his eyes in the rear-view, looking exceptionally fond, and exasperated. “She told me- and Rose was a girl to trust, so I’ll take her word for it- that this song gets played as the Earth itself explodes. An Old Earth ballad they’ll call it.”

Esther giggles, moving her shoulders side to side along to the music. “Jack, you can’t expect me to believe that.” 

“At some point you’ll get used to him, darling.” Gwen pats her shoulder, over the seat. 

“But that- was she from the end of the Earth?” Esther continues, playing into Jack’s game. 

“Oh no, Rose was from 2005- but we had a mutual time traveling friend. I met her in 1941.” Jack explains with a straight face, though Ester’s face is driving him to crack. “I was working as a con, then. God that must be-“ Jack looks to Ianto, winking. “Eight thousand years ago?” 

Esther laughs, batting a hand at Jack’s knee and missing. “You’re a terrible liar!”

Ianto turns in his seat, eyes sparkling. “He might not be eight thousand, but I did confirm he was in London during the Blitz- twice .” God, Ianto doesn’t even know the beginning of it. At one point he was avoiding three other versions of himself in one night. 

“I avoided myself, and did my patriotic duty.” Jack grabs Ianto’s arm, fingers gracing his bicep. “Though, if I’d seen myself I think the worst that would happen is-“

“And that's enough, Jack!” Gwen shouts, following along. Jack holds his hands up, raising his brow. 

“What's the least believable is that Toxic is the song they picked- Britney Spears, really?” Rex turns Jack’s direction, making a face. 

“Hey- What's wrong with Britney Spears?” Ianto asks, leaning over Jack’s reach. 

Rex laughs. “Now I really know your gay.” 

Ianto crosses his arms, but Jack laughs too. 

“But seriously, not… Mozart, Beethoven, Louis Armstrong? Hell- Michael Jackson?” Rex poses the question to Jack, but he just shrugs. He doesn’t know why- neither did Rose. He never had a chance to figure that out- though, if he makes it to the year five billion, he should remember to ask a music historian. 

“It’s up to you all to decide what gets remembered at the end of the world. Britney might just hold on longer in the global consciousness.” 

“But-” Rex is getting into it now, the same way Gwen used to. “No it's not- if you got a friend from 1941 and 2005, it’s already happened: backwards and forwards?” 

Ianto grins, tucking his chin down. “Oh Rex, best not get him started.”

Jack, however, springs into his favorite explanation; it makes him feel a bit like the Doctor, even if it's a poor caricature. “Thing about Time is, Rex, and I’m living proof; it's less a linear construct- always trudging on. Its more like-“

“A mass!” Gwen giggles, throwing her voice down into a lower register. “Of all the possible timelines, people jumping back and forth tangling up the twine and pieces becoming junk once something becomes a fixed point-“

Jack, jaw dropped, rolls his eyes. Before he can start again, Ianto joins in: giving his worst American accent.

“You live your life like you're driving on a road- but there's so much more happening on your shoulder! I could jump back into 1854 and just drag my line along with me.” 

“Stop it.” Jack grabs for Ianto around the seat, but he dodges him by leaning forward.

“But it gets dangerous!” Gwen shouts, gesturing for Ianto to continue. “When you alter the timeline too much. There used to be people out there making sure time mended itself back together when someone cut the thread, but now it’s a free for all.” 

“I’ve had a hand in the mending post-time-war, thank you very much.” Jack pouts, though his good humor isn’t dashed. Rex and Esther laugh out loud, throwing their heads back, just as Toxic fades out into the radio announcer's cheery voice, introducing their next favorite song that marked their teenage hood. That makes him feel old.  

This is good, he thinks. His heart is light, their families are safe; Gwen and Ianto are safe. They make a fantastic team, and- well, he can see a future out there, one with Ianto, Gwen, Rhys and Anwen down the road. One where they go home, friends and contacts in America. 

He’s only got to hope they make it there. 

“I’m not gonna pretend,” the tattooed, motorcycle-gang-type landlord waves a hand around their seaside accommodations. Gwen got her wish. “It ain’t Nirvana. But- if you want somewhere with no questions asked: this is the best I’ve got.”

Jack nods, eyeing him up and down. Ianto slaps his shoulder. 

“Well, as long as it’s got electricity and a roof, this is all we need.” Rex sighs, looking around the place. From his look, Jack wonders if Rex has been hard up before, been without a roof or electricity. Even if he has, he’s not sure he could get Rex to open up about that. 

“Hot water would be nice!” Esther laughs, though she sounds nervous. 

“I don’t suppose it’s any good asking who you are?” The landlord eyes the rest of them up, eyes flitting over Ianto longer than Jack would like. 

“We’re a traveling circus.” Jack grins, and, despite his new cover story, Ianto rolls his eyes. 

“Yeah, he’s the clown.” Rex points at Jack, setting down his things on a table. 

“And I’m the bearded woman, but I’ve shaved.” Gwen grabs her chin, as if she’s feeling stubble coming in. 

“And you?” The landlord turns to Ianto, who looks wholly unprepared for this improv. 

“I’m the… ringmaster?” He holds his breath, reaching into his pockets. “Now, cash in hand; and there's more of that tomorrow if you don’t tell anyone we’re here.”

“If anyone does ask-” Jack jumps in, watching the handoff, and the landlord’s hands lingering on Ianto’s. “You tell us.” Jack levels his eyes with the man. 

“Sure thing.” He smiles, shaking Jack’s hand with none of the lingering contact he gave Ianto. Before he leaves, the landlord turns back to him. “And by the way, if y’all get hungry: there's a fantastic cafe on the corner that does a guava jalapeno cheese tart that's just fabulous , laters!” 

He leaves the group a tad stunned. Maybe he really believed the circus bit. 

“ Fabulous ?” Rex groans, throwing himself down on the couch. “What? You guys make everyone around you gay?” 

“That's the plan!” Jack chirps, before Ianto has a moment to sulk. Or realize the man was chatting him up. Either of the two are equally disastrous considering Jack’s plans for him tonight. They’ve finally got a proper bedroom to themselves; he is not letting the time slip away. 

“Okay…” Esther cuts in between Rex and Jack. “Now we can use this place as our delivery address, we can order that spare server. Then we start in on PhiCorp. But first thing we've got to do is lift out the security profile.” 

Gwen’s phone goes off, cutting through the air. Rex audibly rolls his eyes. “Oh, sorry- sorry. It’s Rhys- I’ve gotta-”

Ianto taps her out, but watches the window as she steps outside. Just in case. 

While she’s out, the rest of the team sets up their equipment in relative silence. Ianto keeps glancing up at the window toward Gwen; Esther fiddles with the angling of their projector anxiously; and Rex is surly as he piles out computer monitors, unfolding tables. Everyone is itching to call someone important, but Gwen is the only one who commands enough confidence and urgency to bite the bullet. 

He’ll have to set up a call for Rhiannon and Ianto, it’s the least he can do. Then they’ll see about Esther’s family. 

“Sorry, sorry- you know Rhys.” Gwen blusters back in, rushing over to help Ianto. He waves her off. 

“It's fine.” He says, focused. 

“We’ve all got family Gwen,” Esther gives her a small smile. “How’s the baby?”

“Oh, she’s well, Rhys hasn’t let her gorge herself on sweets just yet.” Gwen laughs. Her eyes are tired, longing. 

Maybe it’d be best to send her home. Jack knows how hard it must be to be here, and have her child hundreds of miles away. He manages to get the projector up and running, and it projects Oswald Danes’ latest- and most horrific- interview on some cable news. Gwen sucks in her cheeks. “You’re obsessed with this bastard.” She comments, grabbing a spot next to Jack.  

Jack glares. Honestly, he can’t stand to look at the man. He’s known evil, beyond the scope of what's conceivable on Earth; none pull the disdain Jack has for this man out of him. “I'm gonna put a permanent trace on him so we always know where he is.”

“And Jilly?” Esther asks. “Did we find out anything more on her?”

“She’s freelance, been working for PhiCorp for six months.” Rex lists. “She’s good, but she ain’t that good. She just got lucky.” 

Esther takes that in, nodding slowly. “She’s like Danes, then. So: why are we bothering with them?”

Ianto glances up, checking in with Jack, just for a second. Jack thinks he knows where he went when he disappeared for that hour or so, in DC. Always too good at reading him, too good at understanding Jack’s patterns. If he does know, he doesn’t say anything. Then, he puts his head back down. 

“Because our greatest problem is that what's happened to the world is invisible. But quite by chance Oswald's found himself right at the heart of it.” Jack leans back, putting an arm over the couch. Gwen leans in. “George Eliot wrote this chapter in Middlemarch: says that if you take a piece of metal with random scratches all over it and hold a flame up to the metal, the scratches look like they're forming patterns circling around the light. And that's Oswald. He's blazing away and patterns are starting to revolve around him. And all we have to do is keep watching.”  

“Rhi, nobody goes into hospital al-” Ianto sighs dramatically. “No, yes Mica should go to her asthma specialist, only if it's not urgent. And ask him to give you whatever stock pile of her medicine he’s got.” 

Jack watches the line of Ianto’s shoulders soften. He’s not too far off, just down in the backyard of the house they’re in. The summer sunlight is good on him, he thinks the Welsh in the party might even get a tan. He sends Jack an annoyed look. 

“I’m fine, Rhi. Yes, I promise. I can’t- yes. Yes , Jack is here, now shut it.”  

He knows Ianto misses her, however much he wouldn’t say. Jack knows they were never close, not in the way one would hope. Maybe drawn closer by Jack’s insistence Ianto reach out, in those weeks after Lisa. But- well, Jack knows you just can't go about not missing a sibling like an arm and a leg, no matter how much you hate them. 

Jack got to hear more than a few stories about Rhiannon and their childhood, while they lived in France. Most of them good; brotherly pranks, sisterly squabbles, getting to meet his nephew for the first time, and having to be in Rhi’s disastrous wedding party. Some, of course, were less than, and Jack marvels at the fact Ianto told him at all. They had something good in France, something reserved only for the two of them. He can’t seem to recapture it on the run.  

“Rhiannon sends her love.” Ianto sighs, rubbing his eyes with his palm. “And demands we come over for dinner when this is all said and done. Wanted criminals or not.” 

“Oh,” Jack smiles, leaning up to grab Ianto’s hand. “She take a shine to me? Even after whisking you away?”

“No.” Ianto deadpans. “I think she’s got plans to beat you over the head with a frying pan.” 

Jack laughs, pulling Ianto toward him. “Well, it wouldn’t be the worst meet-the-family I’d ever done if she did.”

Ianto cringes at that, but lets Jack pull him into the kiss he’d intended, though the heat is nowhere to be found. 

“Everything alright?” He asks, softly. Ianto breathes shakily. 

“Would you, really?” Ianto asks. Jack isn’t following. “If- if we make it out of this. Really like to meet her?”

Jack smiles softly, holding Ianto’s cheeks between his hands. “Yeah, maybe not the frying pan bit, but. Of course I would.” 

Ianto breathes, though Jack hadn’t noticed he’d been holding it. He stands back up, deciding to lean against the shitty lawn chair Jack’s found himself in. Jack follows his gaze. “Did you think-”

Ianto purses his lips, shaking his head. “I never really know, with you.” 

Jack’s heart beats. He can feel it hammering on in his chest, persistent, though right now it’s feeling sort of crushed. He doesn't mean that, Jack tells himself. In the growing silence his mind draws a blank with what to say. What does he mean- does he not know? He must know? Right?      

“When we make it out of this, Ianto, and we will.” Jack points, with his free hand. Ianto smiles, still looking off in the distance. “I think, back to Wales? Right?”

Ianto nods, his interest in whatever clouds he’d been following dissipating. Doesn’t dare look at Jack yet, though. 

“I’m sure there's more trouble we can make there. You know- apartments to rent. Sisters to have over for dinner.” Jack grins. “And- They’re still calling it a Civil partnership these days, right? Never paid much attention.” 

Ianto turns to him, very slowly; all the markings of Ianto controlling his reaction with fine precision across his face. He gets a scrunched up look, like he’s eaten something sour. Awfully cute. 

“Yep. Still that.” He chokes, eyes scanning Jack not so subtly. 

It had been in the works, in France. Only felt natural, all the retirees trying to snatch him up, easier to let them down if he had a wedding band. That, and well, he thought it might be nice. It’s been ages since Jack’s been married. Something about losing Alice and Steven, shook a little piece of him loose. He needed- something needed to change, and he figured: the common denominator was always him. He’d never given enough, wound people into horrible positions, and when they weren’t dead they were left high and dry. Alice was proof of that- how horrible and destructive his presence had become, the way he operated with the ones he loved. The least he could do for Ianto was grow up a little. 

Ianto needed someone who loved him, someone he could solve problems as a team with, someone who’d say the hard thing, when neither of them wanted to. Ianto needs someone who’ll stay with him, too. Jack can be those things, he will be those things.     

“Right, well.” He chuckles, Ianto’s eyes following his movements with precision. “If you’d like that, I would.”

Ianto sucks in a breath, and Jack is reminded of that office. Asking Ianto out properly, for the first time. “Yeah, yes .” He says, almost breathless. 

Jack beams up at him, squeezing Ianto’s hand. The sun, from where they’re shaded, peers out from the clouds again. “I’ll get you a ring, then. Once we’re settled.” 

Ianto breathes deeply for a moment, like he’s counting very slowly in his head. 

“Rhiannon’s really never going to let me live this down.” He says, still sounding dumbstruck. Jack laughs, bright and loud, pulling Ianto down for a kiss.  

Chapter Text

Ianto’s still shaken, and decides to let Jack and Esther handle dinner. Gwen’s off talking to Rhys or something again. Knowing Jack, he’ll probably get something crazy. Not like he’s already put Ianto's through enough today as is. 

He can’t believe him. He can’t believe him. Jack fucking Harkness, asking if its still called a ‘Civil Partnership’ of course it fucking is. He knew that- and he still… 

Jack just asked him to marry him, didn’t he? Oh god, Jack asked him to marry him, and he said yes.  

Is he engaged? Jesus christ- he remembers when Gwen got engaged. Felt like the most far away, strangest thing he’d ever heard of: Torchwood team leader getting engaged . 

That, which is weird on its own, and that Jack can’t tell him he loves him, but wants to marry him? Oh Ianto could kill him. He’d agonized over calling Jack his boyfriend outloud for weeks- for nothing? Gwen’s going to kill him- if he tells her that. 

Gwen’s going to be mental when she finds out. 

He really thinks he should be happier. It’s not like he hadn’t thought of it before, while in France. He wouldn’t have brought it up ever, but still. He can’t pinpoint what he is. 

Maybe- okay, maybe he is happy. He is involuntarily grinning as Rex steps in to watch the news with him. It’s just- it’s unexpected. It’s throwing him off. 

Ianto deals with the unexpected everyday, and he thinks all things considered he handles it well. But- there's a level of expected , unexpected he’s regulated his body to: aliens, monsters, weevils, shagging Owen, nobody dying? He can do that. Jack proposing? He’s going to wind up spiraling if he doesn’t stop thinking. His heart beats so loudly he’s sure Rex can hear it. He needs to take his mind off this. 

Thankfully, Rex answers his prayers. 

“The fuck are you watching this for?” He groans, leaning back on the doorframe. 

The woman on TV has been going on about her ‘Dead is Dead’ campaign. From the outside, Ianto must look very concentrated on it. 

“Jack thinks the media is involved, so I will watch the worst they’ve got to offer.” He sneers. 

Rex shakes his head, and turns down the volume. 

Now, he can hear Gwen laughing with Rhys, or maybe Anwen, down the hall. He smiles. 

“Don’t you have family in L.A. Rex?” He asks, turning to face him. 

Rex screws his face up. 

“Esther gave me your file, so I could add it to the Torchwood mainframe.” He explains. “My job used to be archival work, you know.”

Rex grumbles for a moment, before staring straight ahead and pouting. “There's no one, okay?” 

Ianto watches the man, just for a moment. He thinks about Gwen, Rhys and Anwen; Esther and her sister; Jack and Alice. He thinks about Rhiannon and the kids. He knows who’d they’d call on if something horrible happened. Who’d miss them. He’s got nowhere to start on Rex’s family. 

“I don’t know you Rex, or your family but- I’m just saying: if you’ve got someone around, I think it's worth it to see them one last time.” He says, very quietly. 

Rex cringes. “What the hell man? Why are you so morbid about this all of a sudden?”

Ianto doesn’t look at Rex, though he can tell he’s breaking. “I can’t go and see my sister. She’s got- I’ve prepared her for the worst, a while ago, but there was a long time she had no clue what I did.” Ianto keeps his eyes on the TV, and lets Rex come to him. “Every time there was a close call, I wished I’d told her what to do. So she wouldn’t be alone when I died.”

“Wouldn’t Jack help her out?” Rex’s voice softens.

Ianto bites the inside of his cheek, keeping himself from saying more than he intends. “Jack is unpredictable.”

Rex laughs, something bitter. “Trouble in paradise?”

Ianto returns with just as bitter of a bark. “Jack has been alive longer than I can comprehend. He has perfected the art of walking away from a battlefield.”

Rex’s presence turns cold, the air settling between them. “So, you're saying I should write a will, and make sure Jack isn’t the only witness?”

Ianto chuckles. “Sure, if that's what concerns you.”

Rex thinks on that, though, maybe his mind is somewhere else.

“Ive- Ive seen you and him, though.” Rex points out. “It seems like you really-“

Bloody fantastic, if Rex heard. Now he’ll really never hear the end of it. “I do, really.” Ianto sighs, letting it remain unsaid. “But… like I said. Jack is more than I could possibly begin to comprehend. At the end of the day, all I can hope to be is a happy blip in the centuries that’ll unfold when he leaves.”

Rex whistles. "That's depressing, man."

Ianto shrugs. He's not entirely sure Rex is wrong, but- he's not right, either. "I'm happy, though.” As he says it, the feeling lights up in his chest. “You know, I didn't think I'd live past 18, then 23, and 26 and- I'm still here, and so is he."

"Torchwood's got high mortality rates." Rex nods, but Ianto hadn't meant that. He's always known his time at Torchwood is a race against the clock, but behind Torchwood has always been a far more imminent threat. He's doing better, he thinks. 

No- he knows. Ianto knows it in his bones. He’s going to fight to stay with Jack- he’s going to get a stupid little flat with Jack, have dinner with his sister, and-

He catches himself beaming at the prospect. 

Oh, he thinks. I’m happier than I’ve been in ages. Since Lisa. 

Ianto doesn't say, and just nods along. 

It just took a moment to catch up to him to himself. 

Ianto is sure to record Gwen’s atrocious American accent. It’s hilarious! Perfect blackmail for the next time one of them needs to embarrass the other. He even considers sending it to Rhys- though he suspects Rhys will be far more offended by Gwen playing house with Jack. Gwen slaps him across the face when he shows her the recording. 

“You little shit!” She reaches over his shoulders, climbing over him to reach the laptop. Ianto passes it off to Esther, who is in the midst of a fit of giggles. “I’ve still got those photos- give me that!”

Gwen doesn’t get her hands on the laptop, not until it’s saved in the permanent, virtual, archive. 

“Photos?” Esther giggles, bright eyed and beaming. She’s got a cheeky streak- that Esther. Rivaling Tosh in her schemes. 

“I’ve got Ianto’s yearbook from year 12, he was goth .” Gwen shrieks, narrowly avoiding Ianto’s attack to bring her down to the couch. “Dyed black hair, big fringe, eyeliner: the works!”

“I was 16!” He shouts, though it’s futile. Even Rex is laughing now, and he’s made it clear he’s not one for their childishness. “It was the 90s!” 

What's Torchwood if not a little fun, though?  

“I still can’t believe you took your school photos like that!” Gwen succumbs to her laughter, and flops right on top of Ianto’s legs. 

Jack watches from the doorframe, a quiet smile across his face. He’s seen the photos, more than Gwen’s been allowed, but he doesn’t chime in. Ianto finds his eyes, for just a moment, and something in his chest breaks a little loose; setting him on fire with it’s warmth. 

Esther, still laughing, does turn and give him a sympathetic smile. “Don’t worry Ianto- I had a punk phase when I was 16.”

Rex cracks at that, his laugh striking and loud. “I need to see those pictures, Esther.”

Esther blushes. “They don’t exist, Rex.”

Rex raises his brow, grinning. “Let's see what Charlotte and Noah say about that: I can put them on the case.” 

Esther swats at him, but it's all in good fun. She’s still got her cute smile plastered on her face. 

Jack steps into the room, finally, grinning at the group. “So, who's used a blowtorch before?” 

Esther laughs out loud again, and Gwen’s hand shoots all the way up. 

“Esther says good luck.” Gwen whispers, knocking their hands together. She’s almost as tall as him in her stiletto heels, and she really does look fantastic in this get up. Very un-Gwen, but, if Ianto weren’t already spoken for… 

That's so odd to think. He’s spoken for. He’d never dated, barely shagged anyone else since he and Jack started up (when would he have found the time?), but he’d never laid claim to any sort of exclusivity. He figured Jack was going to shag whoever he wanted, and that was that. Now, Jack’s voluntarily signed himself up for at least another decade of Ianto, and only Ianto. Maybe more. He’s itching to tell Gwen, the warmth rising in his chest again just thinking of it. He only wishes Tosh were here too. He can’t picture her reaction fully; obviously, she’d be happy for him, but- would she and Owen have gone on that date, if they were alive? Would she be regretful or empowered in some stability? He can only imagine how much Owen would nag them. 

He can’t really imagine moving on, into this phase of his life, without Tosh. Who’d fielded Ianto’s ministrations on Jack when they’d only been shagging, and who gave her quiet support when he’d needed it most. 

Gwen shows her passport to the man at the security desk. He wishes they’d retire the Yvonne Pallister alias, considering Ifan Lewis is playing her assistant today. It brought up too many memories of another boss; in similarly styled high heels and blouses. 

Esther takes the man’s call, and he sends them up to floor twenty one. 

Ianto takes Gwen’s arm when she offers it, and they step in the lift. 

Gwen takes off her heels as soon as they’re alone; returning to her far less put-together personality. He presses the button for floor thirty three. 

“I’ve got something I should tell you.” Ianto says, as the lift jolts up. “Don’t look at me, okay. It’s private.” 

Gwen tilts her head, eyes bulging. “Ianto…?”

“Nothing bad.” He promises, trying to keep the ease in his voice. “So don’t freak out.”

“You are not making that easy.” Gwen chuckles, but she averts her eyes, and stares at her stocking clad feet. 

“Jack asked me to marry him.” He says, the words coming out all at once. His cheeks burn in an instant. 

Gwen’s head pops right back up, her lips parted, eyes bright and wide. “He did what?”  

Ianto turns away from her. He doesn’t want Rex and Esther hearing this. “He asked me to marry him.”

Gwen slaps his shoulder, and when he turns back around she’s beaming at him. “And what did you say?”

Ianto rubs a hand down his face, trying to stop himself from grinning. “I said yes.” 

Gwen erupts into shrieking, slapping his shoulders another couple times. Ianto stands, and his heart bursts. “Oh my god, I can’t believe it- when? When did he ask?”

“Our second day in L.A.” He mumbles, hoping Gwen doesn’t capture that. 

“Oh my god- oh my god!” Gwen shouts, they’re really making a scene. Good thing this lift ride is so long. “That’s an entire week ago!”

Ianto laughs. “Was I supposed to tell you right away?” 

Gwen stares like that's the dumbest question he’s ever posed. Maybe it is. “Yes. Yes you tell your best friend when you get fucking engaged!” 

They’re on floor twenty-nine right now, so he’d better quiet this. 

“Did you know?” Gwen asks, hushing herself. “I suspected Rhys was going to for months before he finally did.”

Ianto shakes his head. “You know Jack. He’s unpredictable.”

She nods, like that isn’t the only truth they can count on now. “Oh, Ianto I can’t believe it.” She still smiles, as they hit the thirty-third floor. “Am I meant to keep this quiet? Does Jack not want me knowing?”

He’s got no clue. “Best, for now. While we’re with Rex and Esther, at least.” 

She looks well and truly put out by that. “I’m planning you the most ridiculous stag party there’s ever been, alright? Soon as this is all over.” 

Ianto chuckles, but the service lift, and (more importantly) Jack in a tight broiler suit keeps him from arguing. 

“Hello handsome.” Jack grins. 

Ianto’s in a fairly standard suit, though maybe Jack missed his put togetherness in the L.A. heat. Noted. 

“You’re-“ Ianto stutters, his cheeks turning red and hot. This is embarrassing. Rex and Esther are watching him while he eyes up Jack’s legs in this getup. “I like this. Keep it.” He says, deciding his dignity is already on the floor. Might as well trample on it. 

“Yes, Sir.” Jack bats his eyes. 

“Oh, stop ogling.” Gwen slaps Jack’s bum, and gets him going. She gives Ianto a crazed smile behind his back. “Now move it.” 

Jack pushes the cart, as Ianto pulls out a scrap of paper and lighter. They’ve caused enough fires in their time together, so, this better work. 

The fire alarm goes off; blasting and loud, and Gwen announces Esther will be sending the department to floor 14. 

The door to the server room, where Jack waits, is locked and loaded. The computer asks for their name, and Gwen plays the tape of Nicholas Frumpkin. 

“Place your right hand on the censor, as indicated.” 

“Fingers crossed.” She sucks in a breath, before placing a stamped faux hand on the scanner. 

There's a horrible moment where the computer keeps loading, where all of them hold their breath. Finally, it accepts, and shoots out another command. “Look closely at the circle below.” 

Gwen positions herself, and Esther works her magic. 

“Access granted.”

Gwen steps back, eyes wide. “I cannot believe that worked.”

Ianto grins at Jack, and helps push the cart inside. 

“Welcome back, Nicholas.” 

Inside, the server room is awash in white, baring the stacks. Ianto goes ahead, just as Jack lists off the agreed upon server they’re stealing. 

“Yes, thank you, sir.” He rolls his eyes. 

Gwen’s phone beeps, and she groans. “Idiot- it’s Rhys.”

“He’s fine.” Jack says, through his teeth. “Leave it.”

Gwen’s already on her hands and knees tearing up the servers wiring, and got her phone tucked between her ears. 

Jack groans, turning to Ianto. “Keep watch, I’ve got this.”

Ianto furrows his brow, but acquisses. He does help Jack lower the server out of the box, before going, though.

From a distance, he can only catch snatches of Gwen’s conversation. Jack rounds the corner, taking the desired server in the cart with him. “Be careful,” Jack says quickly, before kissing him. 

“Yes, you too.” If Ianto grabs Jack’s thigh in the broiler suit, no one but he and Jack are to know. Jack leaves with a smirk, down the service lift again. 

Ianto runs back to Gwen, who's repeating the numbers Esther projects. He kneels down next to her and offers a hand. 

If there were footsteps, neither of them heard it, too caught up in trading wires. 

Ianto is knocked out with the end of a torch to his neck, and barely catches Gwen’s scared eyes as she’s struck across the face. 

He wakes with a gasp, the back of his head throbbing. Next, he notices he’s bound: hands above his head and tied to a server, with Gwen and Jack also tied up beside him. Then, a small knife, cold against his cheek. A monologging man in black, wields the knife in front of him. If it weren’t pressed against his cheek, this would all feel like a James Bond movie. Too bad he’s the damsel in distress. 

“-told me it was a very long time ago. Don’t you remember?” The man says, slow and antagonistic. He keeps the knife flush to Ianto’s cheek. 

Jack looks to him, eyes wide and frightened, then back to the man. “Who? Who told you that?” 

“This would have been so simple in the old days.” The assassin sighs, trailing the knife down toward Ianto’s throat. Gwen watches, and it occurs to him briefly Esther might be watching this. “Tell me what I want, or I’ll slit his throat.” 

He presses harder into the soft flesh, and Jack struggles forward. They- whoever’s employing this man- must know about him and Jack. Why would they go for him, if not? That means they’ve been watched- maybe as far back as France, maybe even longer. Ianto holds his breath, a tear rolling down his cheek.

“I keep wondering, during these miraculous days: would it be better or worse knowing he’d live in agony, forever?” The man bends down next to Ianto’s face; eyes crazed, hot breath hitting his face. “I think better.”

He presses the knife even closer, and Jack shouts “Leave him alone!” 

“Then tell me!” The assassin doesn’t remove his hand, and Jack struggles against his bonds. 

“I don’t know.” He gasps. Gwen looks to Ianto, and with the little he can see out of his periphery, he tries to tell her he’s got no clue either. 

“You're very special to them, Jack. They trust me enough to tell me that. But I hear rumors of miracles yet to come, of a new society being forged here on Earth, and I'd like to guarantee my place. So, tell me, what did you give them so long ago?” 

The knife stays pressed against Ianto’s neck, and Jack’s eyes are frantic. “When?” 

He’s lived such a long and sordid life, the amount of enemies Jack must have stacked up- and it's going to get them killed. Fantastic. 

“Tell me who’s employing you.” Gwen says, through bared teeth. The assassin’s hold against the knife slips just slightly, giving Ianto room to breathe. 

“You’ll never stop them.” He smirks. “For this is who they certainly are: they are everywhere.” 

Gwen rolls her eyes. 

“They are always. They’re no one. They’ve been waiting such a long time. Searching the world for a specific geography.” 

Jack gapes, brow furrowed. “What the hell does that mean?” 

“That means,” The man pulls his knife away, but his other hand moves to something else in his waistband. He pulls a gun, and presses it against Ianto’s forehead. Jack and Gwen both hold their breath; unable to move, just keep him talking. “That they’ve found it. And they’ve made us magnificent.” 

“Who are they?!” Gwen shouts, struggling. 

The man grins, something wicked. “They once had names, long ago, and those names were-”

Rex empties an entire clip into the man’s skull, and then collapses against the wall across from them. “Holy shit.” 

Ianto stares, in disbelief. Rex is bleeding across from them, and the man is making horrible, strangling noises from the floor. “He was just about to tell us.” He gasps. 

“Thanks?” Rex makes a face. “Anyone? Thanks?”

“You shot him in the throat.” Gwen shouts, slamming her hands against the server she’s bound to. 

Rex just groans, shrugging. “Yeah, well. Dead is dead.” He spits. 

Jack, who’s breathing awfully hard, catches Ianto’s glance. In a look, he asks if he’s alright. Ianto nods. He’s not even bleeding, just a bump and shock. Though, from the look on Jack’s face, he must be thinking the same thing Ianto is: whoever wants to get to Jack, is willing to use him. Ianto’s a noted weakness. 

Jack kicks Rex’s leg. “Little help?” He motions to his binding, and Rex groans, but cuts them all loose. 

They all crash, once back at the home-base. Ianto sleeps a magnificent sixteen hours, well into the next day. When he wakes, Jack is next to him, even though he’s not sleeping. “Morning.” He whispers. “Or- afternoon.” 

“Mhm,” Ianto turns into his chest, sleep still fighting to drag him back under. 

“I think you have a concussion. I shouldn’t have let you fall asleep so fast, yesterday.” Jack says, though he keeps his hand around Ianto, trailing it up and down his spine. “How do you feel?”

“I’ll live.” He mumbles, though the humor is lost between them. The number of concussions the team rounds up between them every year- this is nothing he’s not used too. Too bad they don’t have Owen to give him a shot of whatever alien medicine fixed them right up. His head isn’t hurting too bad, though. “And you?”

Jack huffs a laugh. “I’m always fine.” 

Ianto hums, unamused. 

“He caught me off guard- plus, I was a little more concerned that you and Gwen were okay. I’m really fine.” Jack cards a hand through his hair.  

“That man.” Ianto makes a valiant attempt at sitting up, but decides pressing his face into Jack’s chest is as good as he can do. “He wanted you.”

“He did.” Jack says, quietly. He holds Ianto between his shoulder blades, palm hot against his skin. 

“Do you think someone’s been watching us, then?” He mumbles. “How else would they know to use me to get you to talk?” 

Jack balls his hand, and kisses the top of Ianto’s head. “I don’t know.”

Ianto sighs, willing himself to finally sit up. When he does, Jack avoids his eyes. “Well, I lived, didn’t I?” He tries for some levity. “Felt like a bloody damsel in distress, but-”

Jack smiles at that, making a move toward standing on two feet. Ianto watches him carefully; the way soreness sets his jaw, the purple bruises between his shoulders from slamming himself against the server system. He’s never thought Jack looked vulnerable naked before, but he does now. 

Jack offers him a hand, and Ianto takes the help. Once standing, only swaying a bit, Jack helps him dress. His hands linger, and Ianto returns the favor by buttoning Jack’s shirt, even with shaking hands. 

“I’ll get you something to eat, yeah?” Jack kisses him softly. He’s being way too kind. With the brain fog, Ianto can’t pinpoint if it was the scare yesterday, or something else bringing this on. “Fair warning: Esther forgot we shared a room, and woke me up around 8.” 

“Oh.” Ianto desperately tries to get his brain to make that make sense. “Fantastic.” 

“She sounded very sorry, but I’d maybe avoid Rex until you’ve had a cup of coffee.”

“Oh.” It dawns on Ianto. Of course, Esther saw them sleeping together; naked and together. There's only one conclusion to draw there. It’s not like she didn’t know they were shagging. 

Jack chuckles, and leaves Ianto to work himself up for leaving their room. 

He’s pretty sure there's no longer any bad blood between him and Rex. Not after their little chat, and Ianto covering for his disappearance for a few hours right after. Once he’s certain Jack is out the door (to the cafe the landlord recommended- it truly does have gorgeous pastries. Sub-par coffee, though.) Ianto steps out. 

Esther waves, almost like she’d been expecting his entrance. He smiles back, sitting down across her on the couch. 

Rex and Gwen are bickering over something on the projector, speaking just a tad too loudly for Ianto’s headache. Esther taps his knee, and he glances at her. 

She holds out one of Rex’s painkillers in her palm. A peace offering. He gladly accepts it, and goes to get some water from the tap. 

“Got it.” Esther shouts, from her computer. “First basic pattern, land prices . Estimates dating back years and they're all linked to these construction plans.” 

Rex crowds in. “Plans for what, exactly?” 

“They're calling them overflow camps for all the patients in ICU. Looks like PhiCorp is taking charge of them, like they own them. Sold some kind of strategy to the UN.”

“PhiCorp and whoever else is behind them. But what the hell are they up to?” Gwen chirps, taking the space next to Ianto against the counter. She rests a hand on him, checking in. He nods, and she mirrors it. 

“Whatever it is, I bet it ain't good.” Rex groans, running a hand down his face. 

Gwen’s phone goes off, loud and high pitched. It makes Ianto want to crawl back into bed. Gwen scrambles to answer it. 

“Bollocks! Bollocks!” She answers, which is a little funny. “I am so, so sorry. I have been so busy I didn't ring you back. But look, I'm gonna call you back in half an hour and that is a promise.” 

The group quiets, thankfully, except for Gwen and Rhys through the phone. 

Ianto watches Gwen, her shoulders deflate when Rhys assures he’s got good news. Then, her grip tightens on the hem of her shirt. “What scheme?”

Jack gets back, just then. The quiet in the room takes him aback, and he glances between Ianto and Gwen.

“Overflow camps?” Gwen says, distress lining her face. “Okay, Rhys, listen to me. Do not let them go. Do not let them take my father. I haven't got time to explain, just bloody move .” 

Gwen paces around the room, and Jack joins Ianto at his side. He looks to him, but Ianto’s doesn’t know what to say.  

“Then stop them, okay? This is bloody PhiCorp, Rhys, and they are up to something. Move! Don't let them go! Just get him back. Get him back now!”

Gwen stares off into the distance for a long moment, before she hangs up on Rhys without a proper goodbye. Then, she turns to them. “They've got my dad, Jack. They've got my dad.” 

Chapter Text

Jack hopes he’s doing the right thing, sending Gwen home. She and Ianto exchange hushed words right before she leaves, and Jack can’t discern what they’d spoken about. It seemed dark, whatever it was. He suspects back up plans- in case they can’t get Gwen’s father out. Whatever it was, Gwen tells Ianto to take care of Jack : so it must be weighing on the pair. 

Rex calls on his beautiful doctor friend, and she comes running. Jack knows there's something between those two. Vera’s flight, however, won’t come in for another few hours: which leaves them with nowhere to go and nothing to do. 

Ianto suggests a walk on the beach. He must be feeling a bit better. 

Rex offers to catch up on sleep at the base, and Jack decides maybe some fresh ocean air is what they need. 

So, that's how Jack ends up carrying Ianto’s shoes; watching he and Esther roll their pant legs up and kick water at one another. He’s seized with affection, seeing the two acting childish in spite of everything. Ianto, his cheeks showing a little bit of color after so much time in the sun, kicks water up at Esther, who runs away giggling. It reminds him of team basketball tournaments, when rift activity was slow: Tosh chasing after Owen hogging the ball; Gwen calling foul when Ianto tossed the ball in from the mezzanine with ease. Jack gave him and Tosh a point still, for ingenuity. 

He wishes he could turn, and see Tosh next to him. She’d always known what to do, when it got particularly horrible. Owen’s medical expertise would be appreciated, too. He’s got no idea what to do, and a disjointed team counting on him alone to figure this out. They’ve all got too much staked in this; and it’s bigger than anything Jack’s ever dealt with before. 

Ianto’s laugh draws him out of his sulking. He looks so young, with Esther. They’re a couple months apart in age, but they get along like twins. (Though, Esther lords those few months over Ianto’s head whenever they’re joking with each other.) She counters something in Ianto Jack hasn’t been able to draw out of him since Tosh died; a quiet camaraderie, smirking across dining tables and whispered laughs. Everything with Ianto, while gorgeous in its own right, is so bright and white hot between them- or at least it had been in France. Jack begins to wonder if mortality stripped him of some of his charm- or if Ianto is just settling into this new, yet still terrifying, warmth between them. 

“Jack!” Ianto calls, slipping in the sand. Esther follows behind him, grinning conspiratorially. “Lunch?” 

She points across the beach, to a shack teeming with customers. It’ll be serving overpriced ice cream and hot dogs, but Jack can’t resist. He takes Ianto’s hand as they walk halfway across the beach, Esther flanking his other side. 

They all do that now- always someone on either side of Jack, when he used to lead. Like they’re protecting him, the fragile mortal man he is now. 

Jack sends Ianto off to order, and he and Esther find a seat still in view of the queue. She traces the grated table, lips pursed. “Do you think I’m useless?” 

Jack pauses, just for a split second. He hears Ianto, Suzie, even Rose in that question. Her voice is so small. 

“No.” Jack assures, putting his hands on the table. “I think you’re new to this.” 

Esther rolls her eyes, but keeps them trained on the table. “Yeah, but I’m CIA.” 

Jack shakes his head. “So is Rex. But he's just pretending.” He finds her hand, and gives it a squeeze. “That's the big secret, Esther Drummond. At times like these the game goes to the person who speaks with the loudest voice. But pretty much everyone just wishes their mother was here.”

That makes her smile, even if it doesn’t meet her eyes. 

Ianto joins them again, carrying a tray of food, and they pass it between them. And while Esther gives Ianto a smile and thanks, she still looks so uncertain. 

Jack can change that- this, he can fix. “Ianto, you remember when Gwen joined Torchwood?”

Ianto grimaces, taking a bite of his hot dog. “Course- it was the day Suzie died.” 

Jack holds a hand out. “Not the point I was trying to make.”

“Sorry.” He shrugs. “What about Gwen?”

“Do you remember how scared she was, how she nearly quit after the first week?” Jack asks, and Esther’s eyes widen. It sounds so foreign, even to him: Gwen, frightened? Giving up? Not his Gwen. 

Ianto nods, and Esther looks to him for confirmation. “She had one hell of a first case.” Ianto explains. “There was this device- it could show you ghosts of someone’s past, but Gwen saw someone’s future as well.”

Jack remembers it well, the sinking guilt that formed when Gwen cried, and how blasé the rest of the team had been. They needed a heart like Gwen’s on staff, desperately. 

“It ended up being one of those ‘you can’t change the future once you see it,’ type things. Things went south, she took it really hard.” 

Esther, lips pouted, glances between them. “How- how’d she get so good ?” Esther whispers, like a kid. Jack grins. 

“She was really out of her depth- even though she’d been a police woman before.” He makes a point to wink at Esther. “But she worked hard, made mistakes. Lead with her heart- that's what drew me to her: Gwen, even when she’s lacking in strategy, or experience, always did what her heart told her was right. And, she’s done pretty well for herself thus far.” 

“I can’t even picture that… Gwen breaking under pressure.” Esther says, and Ianto knocks shoulders with her. 

“She’s great at hiding it, but once you pick up on her tells, you see it all the time.” He says. 

“Was it- was it hard when you joined, Ianto?” Esther furrows her brow, and Ianto glances up at Jack. He nods, hoping Ianto will tell the truth. 

He thinks he can win Esther over, if they drop the veil of Torchwood’s zeal. They’re regularly struggling, cowardly or cruel, the only thing separating them from that and cowering is confidence Jack can turn on at a moment's notice. 

“I started at Torchwood one, in London, but yeah. Terrifying.” Ianto lowers his eyes. “And, well. I wasn’t well when I joined Torchwood three, don’t really remember much of it.”

Esther tilts her head. Ianto knows he can say whatever is comfortable; they’d gotten to the point where mentioning Lisa didn’t cause him to retreat into himself, though it still made his heartbreak. Jack could tell. 

“Torchwood one had been ground zero for an Alien invasion. I didn’t leave, so much as I was the only one left.” Ianto doesn’t add anything else. Jack can’t blame him. 

“I’m- I’m sorry.” Esther says, quietly. She finds Jack’s eyes, and though she’s worried for Ianto, she looks more sure of herself. 

“S’all right.” Ianto nods. Jack takes his hand across the table, anyways. 

Esther looks like she’s about to pose another question- but her phone goes off. 

“Rex?” Jack asks. She smirks. 

“The loudest voice.” She chuckles, before answering. 

They’re up and off to meet Vera, and Jack is back to playing leader, then. 

“Well, Useless Esther. C’mon, world to save.” 

Jack knew it. Rex can’t keep his hands off her. His smugness is only dashed by having to hear Rex and Vera make out through the thin walls. Ianto dramatically plugs his ears, and Esther sits uncomfortably while helping Jack set up Gwen’s video call.

“And Torchwood is go!” Jack announces, just as Rex and Vera make their reappearance. “This is everything we've gathered so far. And we've got chases updating every twenty seconds, tapping into major news feeds, WikiLeaks, backdoor routes into the CIA and FBI. What about South Wales?” 

Ianto grins, knowing how much Jack enjoys these show-and-tells. Easiest part of leadership. 

“Yeah, I’m here. Can you see me?” Gwen’s voice comes out tinny, but her video feed is strong. She’s got baby Anwen bouncing on her knee. 

“Clear as day, Agent Cooper.” 

Vera steps away from Rex, staring at all the work they’ve got up on the walls. 

“Have you seen the latest?” Gwen asks. “France and Germany have all started Overflow Camps. The whole of Europe is joining in.” 

Ianto hums. “China's saying no to the camps and the Pan-African Summit said yes.” 

Vera stands in front of Jack’s station, brow furrowed. “You're researching morphic fields?” 

“Yeah, that's Jack's favorite subject.” Rex scoffs. Vera, however, regards Jack with surprise. 

“It kept getting mentioned on the medical panels. But it's only a theory, isn’t it?” 

Ianto turns in his chair. “Yes and no- it's a fact of life: it really does exist, but how it works we’ve got no clue.” 

“Huh.” Vera stares at Jack’s work some more, though he’s sure there's not much more to discern there. She turns to the other monitor. “That's Jilly Kitzinger. Are you following her?”

“No, we're following Oswald Danes,” Rex points to the photos tacked to the wall. “but she never leaves his side. He's connected to the top, even if he doesn't know it yet.” 

Vera turns away from him, and stares at the rest of the group. There's a tense silence hanging in the air Jack has yet to diagnose. 

“So this name, Torchwood. You're like… private investigators?” Vera sits next to Jack on the couch. 

“More like… change makers: outside the government and beyond the police.” 

“That makes you sound like terrorists.” Vera grins, voice thin. Rex sighs. 

“Look, Torchwood's gone, okay? It's just a name these days. Just kind of works as a codeword to connect us, that's all.” 

“Hmm. So am I Torchwood now?” Vera raises her brow. Jack extends her a fist bump, and she regards him like one would a very annoying coworker. She still caves and bumps fists, though. Jack grins, and Ianto rolls his eyes.

“Welcome aboard.” 

“Not sure if that's good or bad.” She hums. 

“Okay, let's learn how these categories work. Esther.” Ianto redirects. 

“Er, yeah.” She hums, trading papers around on her desk, which is filled to the brim with paper. 

“Well, they've activated the categories over here.” Gwen says, from her spot on the computer. “It's officialdom gone mad. So listen, Category One is bad, yes?” 

“ Yeah. That's people with no brain function or anyone who would normally have died. They're now officially Category One.” Vera speaks to Gwen. 

“Ordinary people are Category Three.” Ianto nods to Rex, getting him up to speed. Vera smiles at  him. 

“Right. That's people with no injuries, nothing. They're fine. Then Category Two is everyone in-between. People who are alive and functioning with an illness or injury that's gonna persist but not kill.”

Rex stares between Vera and Ianto, lips parted. “Like me.” He says. 

Vera nods tightly. “Yes, like you.” 

“Wait a minute. When I got hurt, I should have died. I was Category One. But now I'm healing so I'm Category Two. So which one am I?”

“Well, that's the point.” Vera waves a hand around, frustrated. “People don't fit categories.” 

Jack takes his chance to eye Ianto, who shakes his head. 

“Worse than that, this process has given the United Nations a definition for life which is therefore a definition of death.” Ianto claifiries, taking something from Esther's desk. 

“The government now has the power to decide whether you're dead or alive.” Jack says, sardonically, and Vera furrows her brow. “No one should have that much control.” 

From there they catch Vera up on what they can discern of PhiCorp’s plot, though she seems skeptical. She’s clever, that's for sure, but a tad trusting. She’s too intertwined with governance and the people at the top for Jack’s liking. Ianto and Esther seem to take to her efficiency, though. And Rex- well. Rex follows her around like a lost puppy. 

Esther looks up from her desk to Jack, grinning. “San Pedro needs clerical staff. Ianto and I can get inside the office, there's bound to be paperwork on the Module.” 

Ianto follows Jack’s gaze; he thinks Esther might want the backup, on her first real inside job. Jack thinks he might be right. 

“I could get inside.” Vera counters, from beside Rex, who sits up. 

“What?”

“If I use my position on the medical panels, I could go to San Pedro as an inspector.” She shrugs. 

“Vera, this isn't a game, okay?” Rex puts a hand out, his voice soft. “Infiltration is specialized work and this time, I'm pulling rank. I'm the only one that can get to the heart of this Category One thing. And you know why? Because I've got this.” Rex taps his chest, grinning. 

Vera isn’t following. “But- you’re now a category 2?”

Rex turns to Jack, who is following, and doesn't like this plan either. “I can figure it out once I get into the camps, all I’d need to do is play up the injury enough to get taken there.” 

Jack stands. While he doesn’t love it, he trusts Rex to get the job done. That, and he trusts Rex to get out of there safe more than he trusts Esther, Vera or Ianto. Rex has less at stake here, understands the objective. If anything goes sideways- he’s sure it’s going to get Esther or Ianto caught up in it. “Sounds like a plan.” 

“You’re just jealous.” 

“No. I’m not.” Ianto doesn’t appreciate Jack’s game, making Rex his fake boyfriend. “It’s childish.”

“So is homophobia.” Jack counters. Ianto doesn’t reply, and Vera and Esther join them from changing. The ambulance sirens, that is taking Rex to the overflow camp, fade into the background. 

“He's on his way.” Jack sighs. 

“Right,” Vera brushes off her blazer, and hangs an ID tag onto the collar. “I'm gonna follow. I phoned Washington and pulled a few strings. I've got observer status.” 

Jack truges after the three, who are all making their way toward the door. “No- Wait a minute. That's why we sent Rex.” 

Vera turns to him, putting on a sweet smile. “I’m not a member of Torchwood, so you can't give me instructions.” She says. “And I need to see that place for myself. I was on the panels, Jack. I helped set these things up.” 

“Any trouble, I can help get her out.” Ianto peers around her, catching Jack’s eye. There’s something else in his look, call it caution, like Ianto doesn’t want Jack going anywhere near the camps. 

He’s absolutely not having that. “Okay, I'm going with you. I don't know, I could be your assistant.” 

“That's my job, sir.” Ianto smirks. Bastard. 

“We told you, not a chance.” Esther chuckles. “That assassin said that you're too connected. If it’s PhiCorp, they’re gonna have their eyes out for you.” 

Jack stares at them, all ganging up on him. What happened to looking to him for instruction? 

“And besides,” Ianto steps in, smiling softly. “you're too fragile, mortal man.” His voice is low, and he leans in for a quick kiss. 

“All I get is a kiss?” Jack mumbles, beside him. 

“Don’t get into any trouble, alright.” Ianto lets a hand linger between them. His eyes are serious though, truly asking. 

“We’ll see.” Jack rolls his eyes, squeezing Ianto’s hand. Esther crowds in, not noticing their connected hands.  

“You look after yourself.” She gives him a quick hug, re-adjusting her bag. “You're unique. You're Category Jack , so listen to Ianto.”

Ianto grins, smug, as Jack watches them go. 

So much for not getting into any trouble. 

Jack can’t help himself- you can’t leave a man cooped up at home all day while his team is off investigating. Getting to do all the fun stuff. And he’s not fragile. He knows how to handle himself. It gives him an excuse, however, to find Danes. He’d rather keep the rest of the team at a distance, even if that means he’s exposed to PhiCorp, or whoever else is watching. 

The miracle rally is horrifically crowded, and the speakers are all sorts of wretched people. Jack slips in easily, just slinking behind over-eager civillains. He bullshits his way past security, and where Danes must be in the dressing rooms.
Jack catches him- standing outside, looking nervous. Ms. Kitzinger shouts at him for a while, and then storms off. 

He lets Danes wander over to him, while Jack lays waiting in the doorway of the stairwell.  

Oswald’s eyes betray him, just for a second, and he stares at Jack, before settling into his repulsive smile. “Mister Jack Harkness. I could accuse you of having an obsession with me.” 

Jack gives him a sideways smile. “What happens afterward, Oswald,” He whispers, trying not to draw attention. “When the fever dies down and the world wakes up to the fact that a murderer is standing centre stage? Somewhere out there, those men are waiting for you in the dark.” 

Danes just grins, a sickening smile. “I know. I can smell them.”

“But what if you became a hero instead?” 

Oswald and Jack hold eye contact, for a long moment. Jack can’t read him, but his eyes take in every detail of Jack’s face. 

“Oh my, sure. Certainly that would be good.” He hisses. 

Jack takes a breath. This is a messy call, but he hopes it’ll get whoever’s at the top scrambling. Set fire to their centerpiece, prized possession, see who tries to stamp out the flames. “You're about to go out onstage and talk to the world with a happy little PhiCorp speech, yeah? But you could use this moment, Oswald. Here's your speech.” Jack passes him an identical yellow paper speech. “Say those words instead. PhiCorp knew about the Miracle. They've been ready for years. That's the proof all written down ready for everyone to hear it.”

Danes tilts his head, pursing his lips. “You want my help.”

Jack tries to keep his breath steady, holding Oswald’s gaze. “I want anyone’s help. I've never dealt with anything like this. It's way beyond me. But you, you could expose PhiCorp live on air and help me change the world.” Jack 

“We'd be partners?” Danes says, voice tightening. 

“Mmm.” God no.  

“And what would I get out of it?” 

“End the miracle, then you can die.” Jack’s smile frays, his disgust showing for a split second. “You're cursed with intelligence. Clever enough to know who you are and wise enough to want it to end. You help me and I promise, I will help you to die.”  

Kitzinger rounds around the corner, shouting Danes’ name. 

“Oswald. Oswald, they've been looking for you! You're on in thirty seconds!”

Danes holds his gaze, making a decision. He nods, tightly, avoiding Jilly. 

“Yeah, sure. Certainly.” He says, and Jack steps back. 

“Do the right thing, Oswald.” He broadens his smile, giving him a nod. Kitzinger looks between them, eyes wild. 

“I'm sorry, who are you?” She asks, an anxious smile across her face.  

“You've got one chance. Take it.” Jack keeps the smile plastered on his face, ignoring Jilly all together. Danes steps away, glancing at Jack’s speech. 

“One chance for what? What exactly did you just say to him?” She steps into Jack’s space, taking Danes’ spot. 

“Maybe you're about to find out.” Jack grins. 

“Who are you?” Jilly demands, but he side steps her, making his exit the opposite way he came. 

“Don't miss the speech.” He calls, shoving his hands in his pockets. He keeps a calm pace, though he’s scouting for another, new place to go watch the stage. 

“One more thing, soldier.” Jilly shouts, her voice turning chipper. Jack turns, just as Jilly snaps a photo on her cell phone. 

Damn it. 

Ianto only checks in once, letting Jack know they’re picking up a second shift. Doesn’t stop worry from festering in him. He’s making himself busy, trying not to think about his futile attempt at swaying Danes, the picture Jilly Kitzinger has of him now thanks to his stupidity, and wondering what is keeping Rex, Vera, Esther and Ianto. 

A computer across the room buzzes with the familiar sound of the Eye-5s being turned on. Jack gets up, and Gwen is looking at herself in the mirror. 

“Hello. Anybody home?” Her words come out tinny and monotone from the computer, but she looks nervous. 

Jack writes as quickly as he can: ‘ ur a sight for sore eyes.’

Gwen smiles, rolling her eyes. “Jack, is that you?” She asks. 

‘In the flesh.’ 

Then, after a beat. 

‘U OK?’

“No.” She says, though her voice doesn’t betray her, since he can’t hear it. “No, it’s horrible Jack.’ 

Gwen’s eyes fill with tears, and Jack scrambles. He wishes he could call her, but it looks like she’s still “at work” in her nurses scrubs. 

‘Gwen- whats wrong?’

She breathes slowly, and doesn’t say anything. Jack’s heart jackhammers in his chest, itching to grab his coat and go find her. 

‘Gwen?’

“I just need you to see. Record this for me.” 

‘Tell me ur ok 1st. Ur safe?’

She wipes her eyes, her lip wavering. “We’re safe. All of us.”

‘Ur father?’

She nods, tightly. “Yes- he’s not well but Rhys is bringing him home.”

He debates sending this, hovering over the keyboard for a moment. ‘Do u want to come back?’ 

Gwen takes in a deep breath, and nods again. “Yes. Jack, I’m coming back to the fight.” 

‘OK.’ 

Gwen hangs her head, for just a moment. Her hands are scrubbed raw, and from the looks of it she’s in a dirty bathroom. She’s got an ID badge hanging from her chest. 

‘ready to record, whenever u r.’ 

He hits record. 

Gwen steals one last firm look into the mirror, and turns away. Leaving the bathroom, she exits into what Jack can only assume is the overflow camp. 

It’s dark- Gwen only runs into one or two other nurses, who avoid her eyes. Jack watches, through her eyes, going through the groups of people. There must be hundreds of them- all sick, some with visible, horrible injuries- laying in small cots that sag under their weight. It’s dingy, dark and unsanitary. He doesn’t spot a single doctor, or a single patient being treated. If this is anything like the LA camps, he starts to understand what's holding the rest of the team up. 

Gwen leaves out a back door, into the dark countryside. Wherever she is going, she steals a motorcycle to get to it. It must be far. Though, watching people drive through the Eye-5s is nauseating, he keeps his eyes trained on the scene. She drives for at least another 15 minutes, until she reaches a large warehouse building. She looks into the mirrors on the bike. 

“Jack, you watching?” 

‘Yes.’

She continues on. Inside the building, it’s dark, with very little structure at all. She rounds the open space, placing something down every couple feet. Jack watches, with bated breath. Once she’s rounded every corner, she leaves out the front door, jumping back on her motorcycle and driving a few yards away. 

Gwen checks the mirror, once again, and nods. She’s holding a detonation device in her hands. “ That was just the module you just saw.” She says. When she can’t look away, her eyes betray her: she’s scared, unsure. She needs Jack to tell her to do it.

‘I figured.’ He writes, hands shaking. He needs Ianto to call, or even better for all four of them to walk through the door. Once that text is gone: ‘go ahead.’ 

The building goes up in a burst of flames, then smoke. Gwen’s eyes water, and she stands, watching it for a long moment. 

Back into the mirror, she says: “I’m going home now, Jack. I’ll see you.” 

‘Yes u will.’

She looks heartbroken, hands gripping the steering tightly. 

‘Be careful Gwen.’

“Bye Jack.” 

It’s not until nearly the next morning that Rex, Ianto, and Esther return home. They’re all in tatters; and have clearly been crying. 

Jack stands, as they come in, but doesn’t step closer. They all look exhausted, and Rex’s wound has been bleeding badly. Ianto and Esther are sporting black eyes; dark purple bruises on their wrists and, in Esther’s case, her neck. 

Ianto won’t look at him, as he hangs up his soiled suit jacket. Esther stays close, resting her head on the wall. 

“Where’s Vera?” He asks, dread filling him. 

Rex is the one who meets his eyes. “She didn’t make it.” He says, before pulling the red tape recorder out. He shoves it into Jack’s hand, and brushes past him. He’s limping, holding his hand to his heart. 

Esther and Ianto stand in their spot in the entryway for a long while. Jack watches them breathe; Esther with her eyes covered by her palms, and Ianto’s back to him. He leaves a solid hand on Esther’s shoulder, but doesn’t move. 

He hears Rex take painkillers, the place is so quiet, but for Esther’s hitching breath. 

He’s got no clue what to do. He’s still holding the tape recorder 15 minutes later, when Esther takes a long, shaking breath, and steps toward him. 

“I’m sorry, Jack.” She whispers, hanging her head. “I’m sorry.”

“Esther it’s-” He takes her around the shoulders, though his eyes try to find Ianto’s. He still won’t look at him. “It’s okay, I- it’s going to be okay.” 

Esther sobs into his chest, and Ianto closes the door to their room behind him. 

Chapter Text

Ianto will blame it on the shock, after the camp. He’d been clouded, those days spent in between coming home and Gwen’s fated re-arrival. It’d been his fault Vera ended up alone. He could have stopped it. He’d been avoiding Jack, avoiding Esther, and more than happy to keep his distance from an incredibly volatile Rex. Understandably so, Vera was- Vera was very important to him. And having to see that happen, right in front of him. Ianto has an idea of what that must have been like; watching Lisa die in front of him had been like ripping his own heart out. He was a wreck for months. Rex is doing well, considering.  

Esther’s not. She keeps telling Jack she’s fine, but Ianto can see it like a mirror image of himself. She’d told Ianto about her sister, and where she ended up, at the facility. She kept a strong face, but, well. Ianto can read her like a book. She’s carrying far more on her shoulders than she deserves, but Ianto can’t bear anymore. Jack doesn’t know how to help either- he’d never been saddled with it before. There’d always been Gwen, or Tosh, around to carry someone through grief. A sardonic joke and an offering of a drink in the quiet of the hub was the best Jack was ever capable of. 

He keeps thinking about Owen. 

He’d forced himself to watch the tape of Vera. He’d been the one who posted it. He can’t- was that what it was like? When he died? Did he feel every second of it, like Vera had? Did he scream until the radiation choked it out of him, like he watched Vera fall victim to the flames? 

Jack’s seen too much death, Ianto can see it on his face. His eyes slide over the destruction and his mask slips when he thinks no one is paying attention. This is just another name on a long, long list. 

So, when Gwen greets him with smiles and promises she’s got something from back home in the car, he can’t blame himself for following along despite her evasiveness. He only sees it coming though, when Gwen already has her hand wound up, the taser already buzzing.

When he wakes, the first thing he sees is Jack’s boots. His feet are tied together with zip ties. He shoots Ianto a glance, begging him to keep quiet. 

He’s tied down, is the next thing he notices. His hands are bound behind his back, his feet the same as Jack’s. He, however, is also buckled into the seat. 

He keeps his eyes lidded, though: that's definitely Gwen in the driver's seat.   

His heart races, and Jack opens his mouth. 

Gwen cuts in. “I can tell he’s awake, Jack.” She sounds exhausted. 

Ianto takes that as his cue to open his eyes. He can only see the back of her head, and her eyes reflecting in the rearview. 

“Gwen,” He says, quickly. “What's going on?”

Jack leans his head back in the seat. Gwen twists herself, just a bit, so he can see her. 

“They’ve got my family, Ianto.” She says, desperately. “Someone’s hacked the Eye-5s and they’ve got my family.”

Ianto’s stomach drops. He can draw the line, from coaxing them into the car, to who exactly must have Gwen’s family. And- who they want out of this. 

Jack is fuming, beside him. It looks like he’s already tried to talk to her, and struggled some. 

“And they want Jack?” He asks, very quietly. Gwen nods tightly. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry Ianto but-”

“They’ve got your family.” He sighs, chewing on his lip. “It's alright.” 

Jack shoots him a glare, but Ianto raises his brow. Jack’s gaze softens, and he nods with quiet understanding. Ianto is never going to give him up; he just needs time to think. 

Gwen holds her gaze out the front window. She only budges to rub her eyes. Ianto scans the car; obviously, they’ve got no weapons on hand, but there’s probably something in the trunk, and Gwen’s taser. Though they're tied up, it won’t be too difficult to get themselves undone if they help one another- but that requires Gwen pre-occupied. 

Gwen gasps, a soft sob. “It's me.” She cries, tightening her grip on the steering wheel. 

Jack and Ianto glance at each other. “What do you mean?” Ianto asks. 

“It's me. I caused this.” Gwen glances up into the mirror, but can’t hold his gaze. Ianto keeps his steadily trained on her. “I made this happen. I knew Torchwood was toxic right from the moment I joined up, the very first day, but I stayed.” 

“I'm glad you did.” Jack says, softly. That only makes Gwen mad. 

“Stop being so nice.” She shouts. “We left nice behind a hundred miles back. I'm trying to be honest, okay?”

Jack sighs, annoyed and angry. 

“Because do you know what the worst thing is of all?” Gwen says, with a horribly broken laugh. “Out of all the shit we have seen, all the bloodshed, all the horror, do you know what is worse than all of that? I loved it. I bloody loved it. And I'd keep telling Rhys I was sorry , and I'd say to little Anwen I'm sorry, but I loved it so much . My God, this is all my fault and now they've got my beautiful little girl and I wished this on her.” 

“I used to think the same about Torchwood,” Ianto starts. If anyone could blame their shit life on Torchwood- it’d be him. But- he loves it. He loves it so much, he’s not sorry. “But Gwen, I-”

Gwen slaps the steering wheel, then scrubs at her face. “That's what I'm saying .” She shouts. “Do you see what you’ve done, Jack? Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Jack freezes, and lowers his eyes. Gwen stares into the rearview. 

“What I'm saying is no more . Because I know exactly what you're thinking, Jack Harkness. I know it. She won't do this. Not really. Not my Gwen. No, Gwen, she can't hurt me. Gwen loves me. She'd never hand me in.” Gwen pitches up her voice, mocking. “Well, this is about my daughter. And I swear, for her sake, I will see you killed like a dog right in front of me if it means her back in my arms. Understood?” 

Ianto holds his breath. It’s been a long while since he’s heard Gwen use that tone, and he’s never heard it up close before. It's terrifying, and if he were any other man, he’d run in the opposite direction. 

Instead, Ianto leans forward, urging her to reconsider. 

“Understood.” Jack grits. He leans forward too, but presses himself as close to Gwen as he can manage. “And let me tell you. Now that I'm mortal, I'm gonna hang on to this with everything I've got. I love you, Gwen Cooper, but I will rip your skin from your skull before I let you take this away from me. Understood?” 

Ianto leans back. The tension in the car is palpable. Jack slumps back into his seat, and glares out the window. He can’t believe the pair of them. 

“Understood.” Gwen sighs. “I feel like I know you now better than I've ever done before.” 

“Neither of you mean that.” He says, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from crying. “You don’t mean that.”

Jack turns to him, eyes sad and tired. He opens his mouth to say something, but closes it again. Gwen looks away, bothering to look somewhat ashamed. 

He needs time to think. He needs- well it would help if he didn’t have a raging headache, but he needs to piece together what he can. And quietly, if they are in the Eye-5s. 

He lets them fall silent, all three staring out separate windows. The silence is heavy, wearing him down, keeping him from asking Gwen exactly what she knows about the situation. Gwen’s not an idiot, she would have found a solution if it were within arms reach. But, Ianto can stretch himself just a little further, and piece together what was once unreachable; he has too, dealing with these two hot headed idiots. He’s been a PA for most of his adult life: he is nothing if not an expert problem solver. 

“Do you remember Tosh’s mum, Jack?” Gwen breaks the silence, anger dissipating. 

Ianto remembers, vividly. Tosh always had something wonderful to say about her, always took mothers day off. Ianto couldn’t believe someone had that sort of a relationship with their family. 

Jack doesn’t say anything. 

“You made me go to her, tell her Tosh had died.”

Ianto’s heart pangs, and Jack looks away, guilt evident on his face.

He’d gone to Owen’s mum- hard to find, she was. That’s why it’d been Ianto’s job, and well- didn’t seem right to send Gwen on that one. He’d never considered it should have been Jack. It should have been Jack to break that news, and watch those mum’s heartbreak. Ianto had made her a cup of tea, sat with her as she cried. Owen had hated his mum, he knew that. Took some solace in it; most people have shit relationships with their families. Until, of course, he’d met her. Then all he felt was guilt, and shame and- he’d felt so sorry for her. 

“Do you know how horrible that was, Jack? Not just having to tell her- knowing you wouldn’t have bothered to show up if I died.” 

“She knew who you were, Jack- she asked about you.” Gwen’s voice breaks, there. “I am not letting you do that to Rhys, not to my mother, not to Rhiannon. If we don’t make it through this and you fucking do you show up .” 

Ianto hadn’t realized he’d been included, and certainly not that he was taking Gwen's side. Other than about handing Jack over, which there was no way in hell Ianto would let happen, Gwen was right.  

But- oh - Gwen had just brought the plan into reach. That's got to work- it’s going to have to, it's all he’s got. 

“Gwen, look away, alright?” Ianto says, turning his head so she can’t see him. “Stop looking in the mirror.”

She does what she’s told. “Ianto, there’s nothing- if there were something I would have thought of it.”

“Have you tried Rhiannon?” He says, down into his chest. 

Gwen stills, just for a second. “No, what do you mean?”

“Call her, or let me- and she can phone Andy. Let him bring out the big guns.” Ianto coaxes. He thinks it might just work, if they're not tapping Rhiannon’s phone. 

“They’ll be tapping Andy’s phone.” She sighs.

“Sure- yes.” Ianto corrects. “But, okay. Have Rhiannon go to him indirectly, they can’t have eyes on everyone we’ve ever known.” 

“Are you sure, Ianto?” Jack asks, eyes sliding over him. He nods. 

“Rex and Esther will have noticed we disappeared, and if they’re not already following I’ll bet they will.” If they time this well, work quickly, this could work. It has to work. 

Gwen wrings her hands on the steering wheel. That's a crack in their plot, whoever wants Jack. 

“We can’t contact them, but Rex has managed hostage situations before. He’ll know what to do.” 

Jack turns his head, brow furrowed. 

“Has he really?” Gwen asks, sounding scared and desperate. Ianto nods, though he’s lying just a tad. Rex has studied the protocols, and is quick on his feet. If he can help, he will, Ianto trusts. “Do you think this will work?”

“Yes, Gwen I think so.”

Jack looks between the two of them, lips pursed. If he disagrees, he keeps his mouth shut. 

“I’ll-“ Gwen closes her eyes, and throws him back her phone. “You’ll have to do it. Make it look- make it look normal.”

The sun rises just as Gwen gets told to pull over. 

Ianto’s shaking with anxiety, his hands no longer tied up. Jack’s are: they’ve got to maintain the illusion. They stay, backs flush to the car, watching another SUV turn toward them from a speck on the horizon. 

This is going to work, it’s got to.

“This is it.” Jack says, jaw set. He stares ahead, eyes tracking the car. “It's been a long time coming. All those years.”

Whether he means whatever mistake he made, or if he thinks Ianto’s plan is going to collapse underneath them, he’s got no idea. Gwen looks exhausted, rubbing her eyes. 

“What's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen? Not just on Earth.” She asks, softly. Ianto cringes. They are not doing goodbyes. No way in hell. 

“I'm not doing this.” Thank you, Jack. “I'm not giving final speeches.” 

“Just tell me.” Gwen begs, anyway. She always knows which way to twist the knife, to get Jack to talk. “Anywhere in the Universe.” 

Jack sighs, tearing his eyes off the car to glance at Ianto. He does everything in his power to hold his gaze, though it feels like flames lapping at his skin. “I saw a firebird once.” He says. “A tiny little thing, even smaller than a hummingbird.” 

“Oh?” Ianto smiles, in spite of himself. 

“Literally made of fire. It only lives for a minute. It blazes different colors and sings. It gets so bright you have to close your eyes. And when you open them, it's gone.” 

Something clicks, for Ianto, sliding into place in his heart, and he drops Jack’s gaze. 

“Oh.”

“But the image stays behind your eyelids for longer than it was alive.” Jack says, finally. 

Ianto fiddles with his sleeve, too overcome to look at Jack again. It feels like his heart is trying to claw its way out of his throat. 

That's how he must see them, isn’t it? Ianto could cry. A bright, beautiful flash, and gone. That’s who he’ll be in ten, twenty years time.  

“Tell me another one.” Gwen whispers. 

Jack shakes his head, finally turning away from Ianto and back to the approaching SUV. “I've said enough.”

“No, go on, tell me.” Gwen pleads. “Just tell me about your life, all the things that you've never said. How many children did you have, Jack?” 

Children . That's a good question. How many lives has Jack torn through before theirs? How many people have felt this way before him? How many more daughters is he hiding behind closed doors, families he’s visited in secret; watched from afar. He never wrote Ianto that bloody list. He can’t breathe, thinking about it. 

“I've lived a lot of lifetimes, Gwen. I can't tell you everything.”

He used to let these questions fall behind him, there was no point in wondering how many people Jack had loved before him, or how many would come after him. There was no point asking, Jack would just draw up walls and barricade himself behind them, just like he’s doing now. They’re going to choke him now; the way they cloud his mind, every single one bringing up ten more. 

“A lot of lifetimes. That's a consolation, isn't it? Is it? I mean, you've had more lives than anyone.” Gwen’s voice breaks, and the SUV drives closer; maybe 100 yards away now. 

“It's not enough. I don't want to die.” 

“You're not going to.” Ianto clears his throat. If anything, he’s got to ask Jack those questions. He needs to see him on the other side of this, or god help him. “So both of you, shut up.” 

The SUV pulls up in front of them, and a very well dressed, thin woman steps out with armed guards. 

“Know her?” Ianto whispers. 

“No.” Jack scans the woman, who’s dusting herself off. 

“Right.” Gwen rolls her eyes. 

“Thank you.” The woman calls, keeping her distance from them. “You’ve followed the instructions, far as I can tell.” She nods, regarding Gwen, and takes just another step forward. Toward Jack. “Captain Harkness, the last mortal man. It is so good to finally meet you.” 

Jack furrows his brow, but then drops his gaze. 

Thank god. 

A tiny, red dot trails up and down one of the armed men. Then, a shot goes off at his feet. 

All of them move to cover their ears, and the man who was almost shot points his gun at them. 

“What was that? Find out who that was?” The woman shouts, looking around frantically. 

“It’s on you.” Ianto smirks, nodding. The red dot climbs up the woman's legs, and settles on her heart. She looks down, and tries, funny enough, to brush it off. 

Then, they all go very, very still, but for the guns pointed at them. 

“That must be Rex and Esther!” Gwen mumbles. She looks around them, though Ianto tugs on her sleeve. 

The plan is going just as expected, but Gwen is still shaking. 

“If they're here, Andy’s got Anwen, alright?” 

“You’ve got a little something on you there.” Jack smirks. “Now, unless you wanna be diagnosed Category 1-” He motions toward the gunmen, and the woman heaves a sigh. 

“Put your guns down.” She commands. They all, reluctantly, disengage. 

Gwen’s phone rings, though Ianto doesn’t pick it up. Instead, he watches another car come down the hill, carrying Rex and Esther. 

Gwen brandishes her taser, keeping everyone at a standstill. 

Esther jumps out of the car before Rex has put it into park, running toward them. “It's okay! It's okay!” She shouts. “Your family and baby, they're safe.” 

Rex climbs out of the car, already annoyed. Ianto grins. “Next time, just ask for help. I'm sick of Torchwood acting like amateur clowns.” 

Gwen runs up and hugs Esther, then Rex. Kissing them both on the cheek. “Oh, Thank you. Thank you!” 

Esther grins at Ianto, who gives her a wink, before motioning toward Jack’s still tied hands. “You’re both alright?” She asks. Jack nods, allowing her to cut him loose. He shakes his hands off, before pulling her into a hug. 

“You did good, Useless Esther.” He kisses her cheek, and she grins. Pulling away, Esther ropes Ianto into a hug as well. 

“Your sister is very nice.” She chuckles. “But, I think you might be on babysitting duty for the rest of your life for pulling this stunt.”

Ianto tries to roll his eyes, but Esther squeezes him and in this moment: he’s just glad everything went well. He breathes a sigh. “I’m sure I will.” 

Gwen breezes over to them, grinning. “Thank you.” She says, again to Esther. “And you, you're gonna live.”

Jack just smiles, something sardonic behind his eyes. “It's a talent of mine.” 

Gwen, still with a finger raised to Jack, looks at him very deliberately. “I meant every word I said.”

Jack raises his brow. “So did I.” 

“Good.” She nods. Ianto goes to step in, but the moment passes, and Gwen turns to the woman. “And as for you, you'd better pray that death comes back to this planet by the time I'm finished with you.” 

“So tell us who you are before I let her loose.” Jack chuckles. 

The woman regards the five of them, Rex with a handgun still trained on her, with something like confusion; how you’d look at a misguided child. 

“I don't see that anything's changed.” She says, small and polite. “You're still coming with me.” 

Ianto steps into Jack’s space, brushing shoulders, and Jack stares at her for a moment. “Why would I do that?” 

“You'll want to come with me because I can take you to the one man who knows how the Miracle began.” She smiles. She looks like she’s telling the truth; confident gaze, holding Jack’s eye contact, even with a gun trained on her. 

“Who's that?” Jack asks, voice low. 

“Angelo. Angelo Colasanto.” She says, in a whisper. The man must be familiar, because Jack tightens his jaw. “He's waiting for you, Jack. He's been waiting for such a very long time.” 

Jack's explanation of who, exactly, Angelo Colasanto is to him is as helpful as you’d expect. He’s evasive, keeping his eyes down as he answers plainly. “He was a man I knew in the late 20s. I only knew him for about two years.”

“And what did you do to him, Jack?” Gwen demands, from the backseat. Ianto, privately, thinks it's smart Esther separated them, but that forces Jack into the front where he can more easily avoid his eyes. 

“I didn’t do anything, Gwen.” Jack snaps. “We were together, and we worked together for a few years. Then I left.” 

“So the whole worlds gone to shit because two gay dudes had a hissy fit?” Rex laughs, leaning against the driver's side window. Ianto swats at his shoulder, which he deserves. Rex turns slightly, to catch Ianto’s eyes in the rearview. “I’d hate to see what happens when he leaves you.” 

The whole car quiets, like everyone’s holding their breath. He feels everyone’s eyes on him and Rex. 

Jack coughs, tearing through the tension with a blunt edge. “I left, because he’d betrayed my trust. I don’t know what he expects from me now.” 

“Sorry.” Rex says, quietly. Ianto nods. 

“You better be.” Gwen simpers, and grabs Jack’s seat in front of her. “But Jack- there must be something. Did you tell him about your-” 

“Yes, he knew.” Jack rubs his face. Ianto keeps his chin tucked, though Jack is making him feel very unimportant right now. This man knew Jack was immortal? How many others knew? “But- I don’t even understand how it happened, not fully. There’d be no way to replicate it for the entire human race.” 

“Maybe- maybe he didn’t.” Ianto mumbles. “What's happened to the human race isn’t your immortality. It’s like a second rate version.” 

Esther nods, like he’s made a good point. “So, maybe he came to understand something about you Jack, but not all of it. Maybe that's where the morphic fields come in?” 

“Like he’s made a poor replica, or he made something and it malfunctioned?” Gwen chimes in. 

“Maybe.” Jack sighs. “We’ll just have to ask him.”

Rex pulls up beside a number of cars, outside a mansion. 

Olivia Colasanto greets them at the door. 

When they all climb out, leaving Esther, Jack goes around the opposite side of the car, and stands at Ianto’s side. Through his confusion, Ianto takes his hand. 

“I’m guessing you have questions, Captain.” Olivia guides them into the mansion. It’s ornate inside, though it's cold and lacking personality. Jack squeezes his hand. 

“What do you want with me?” Jack snaps. “I don’t know anything.”

Olivia laughs. “Oh, I know Jack. But you were very important to my grandfather, he always talked about his immortal man from old New York.” She stops at a large, wooden doorframe. Ianto’s heart pangs with a bit of jealousy. “He never forgot about you, Jack.”

He almost laughs. How could anyone forget Jack? Maybe he and Angelo will have more in common than he’d like. 

“You inspired him.” Olivia explains, holding her hands together in front of her. “You proved immortality was possible. And he devoted the rest of his life to finding out how to live forever.” 

“And he did it?” Jack’s eyes brighten, searching Olivia’s face. “He's still alive? He's still young?”

Olivia smiles, something sad behind her eyes. “Oh yes, he's still alive. Angelo Colasanto is still very much alive, but he's not young.” 

Jack deflates, confusion lining his face. 

“My grandfather waited all this time to live forever. And his wish came true too late.” Olivia moves, bringing them into a large, plain room. In the center is a man, sleeping in a hospital bed, wired up to multiple monitors. Next to him is a giant television, with numbers scrolling across it. 

Jack stops dead in the doorframe, holding up Gwen and Rex behind him. Rex glances at him, furrowing his brow. 

“What's wrong with him?” Jack asks, stepping into the room slowly. Ianto squeezes his hand. 

Olivia scoffs. “At his age? Just about everything.” She stands at the side of the bed, crossing her arms. If she was close to her grandfather, all affection is drained from her now. 

Ianto follows when Jack steps forward again, but holds off when he approaches the bed. He hangs to Gwen’s side, at the perimeter of the room. 

Looking at Angelo, Ianto sees himself. 

Not truly, he hopes he ages gracefully. Maybe dies before he loses all his functionality. But, seeing Jack with someone so old. Someone he’ll be one day. Hopefully. But a memory, nostalgia. The heat of Jack’s prescience Ianto’s so used to is drained so fully from him, he quietly wonders if Jack avoids the elderly out of discomfort. Or, maybe he sees himself too plainly in them. In front of him lies someone who knew a different Jack. In another circumstance he’d hope to talk to him, discern anything significant about their time together. Figure out if he and Angelo have anything in common, beside Jack, find a pattern. Now, that want is replaced with something cold and distant. 

Jack bends down over Angelo’s body; his greatcoat hiding his face from them. He stills for a moment, as Olivia eyes him. Gwen looks up at Ianto, but he shakes his head. Rex fiddles with the cell phone, supposedly changing the settings. It looks like he’s doing a whole lot of nothing, though. 

“It's him.” Jack says, quietly. Olivia pouts, crowding in over Angelo. 

“You must be horrified.” She sighs, a hand trailing the railing on the bed. Jack looks up at her. 

“Why would you say that?” 

Olivia stares at Jack, folding her hands in front of herself again. “Well, he's grown so old.” 

Jack stands, putting his hands in his pocket. “Not compared to me.” Jack chuckles, though, he does look sad. Rex grins at the phone, holding it up. 

“This is for Esther.” He says, and the mobile rings faintly. “Just keeping an open line to make sure we're all safe.” 

Olivia stares for a moment, pursing her lips. “After everything I've heard about Torchwood technology, you're gonna rely on an open handset?” 

Gwen rolls her eyes. It is a bit juvenile compared to their old tech. 

“Yeah, well, we had to leave LA in a hurry, thanks to someone I could mention. Anyway, what the hell's going on with the stock markets?” Rex snaps, pointing up to the giant TV projecting falling numbers. 

Olivia explains the falling stocks, and bickers with Gwen over the efficacy of kidnapping her daughter to get to Jack. She gets so annoyed with Gwen she leaves them alone, with Angelo, to get something to drink. 

Behind them, on the mantle, is an array of photographs, all of Jack. Some are even still in black and white, going much further back than the 60s. It’s a tad… much. Stalkerish. 

Of course, though. That is Jack’s type, isn’t it? 

Gwen points to one, a photo of Jack with a large mustache; slightly blurry with motion. “When was that?” She chuckles. 

“Oh, the seventies?” Jack laughs, picking up the photograph. “What do you think?” He tilts it toward Ianto. 

“Hmm,” He does his best to humor Jack. “It certainly was a choice.” 

Jack grins at him, placing the picture back on the mantle. “It was in fashion.” 

Ianto looks through the photos. The oldest must be from the early forties, where Jack looks like he fits in the best. It makes him smile, imagining that. Jack- walking around in an era where he doesn’t stand out. The newest can’t be from more than a few years ago, though none of the team is captured in it, he is walking past Roald Dahl pass with a cup of coffee. “He watched you for decades.” Ianto says, softly. 

Jack’s face doesn’t falter, though he’s hard to read, at the moment. “But he never made contact.” 

Olivia’s heels click behind them, and a tray of glasses is set down. “You may not be ashamed of being old, Jack, but my grandfather was.” 

Jack works his jaw, but doesn’t bother with replying. Ianto takes his hand again. 

“Hold on now. So- Angelo didn’t cause the miracle?” Gwen asks, taking the scotch she was offered. Olivia shakes her head. 

“No, he lived this long through natural means. He kept his body at a temperature two degrees below normal. He controlled his caloric intake, kept his blood pressure below one ten.” 

“Does that work?” Ianto scoffs. 

“Oh, yes.” Olivia smiles tightly. “Prolonging life is simple. But no one's worked out how to make a profit at it, so it's not advertised.” 

Rex laughs, from his spot looking around the room. 

“So this whole time he was looking for immortality?” Jack asks, glancing back up at the mantle. 

“It's not as impossible as it sounds. You are not the only remarkable thing on this Earth, Jack. Consider the jellyfish. The species turritopsis nutricula is considered to be immortal. Its cells undergo a process called transdifferentiation. Quite simply, it can revert to a younger state, and grow old again. And then repeat without limit. It's possible there are individual jellyfish upon this planet that have existed longer than you, Captain.” 

Jack chuckles, smirking in Ianto’s direction. “I'm not as special as I thought.” 

“You never were.” Olivia says, plainly. “Even within the human body, cancer cells are immortal. Stem cells, in theory they can divide forever. And this is the research that Angelo investigated. Well, they all did, because my grandfather wasn't alone.” 

“Who were the others?” Jack steps forward, leaving Gwen and Ianto behind him. 

“Well, the story says that it started with three men, each representing a different family. And when you were being murdered over and over again, these three men came to witness your resurrection.” 

That bit of context would have been nice, Jack. 

So, that's how Angelo came to understand, or somewhere close to it. While watching Jack be tortured. Ianto’s stomach turns, stepping forward to take Jack’s hand again, even if he thinks he should face this alone.    

“I saw them.” Jack says, accepting Ianto’s hand. “They made a deal.” 

Olivia nods, pacing; her heels clicking on the hardwood floors. “They formed an alliance to purchase the power of resurrection. And when you escaped, the three families swore that they'd find the gift again.” 

“What were their names?” Rex shouts, trudging forward. Olivia acquiesces. 

“The Ablemarch family, the Costerdane family and the Frines.” 

Rex speaks back into the mobile. “Ablemarch, Costerdane, Frines. Did you get that?” Rex wanders off again, dictating the spelling with Esther on the other end. 

“So what happened then, in 1928?” Ianto asks. 

“They lost Jack, but they still had his blood.” 

Jack gazes off in the distance, behind Olivia. “I thought they were draining it away, but they were collecting it?” 

“All they had to do was figure out how to use it.” Olivia grimaces. Jack shakes his head. 

“But that doesn't work.” Jack's voice is firm, though his eyes remain unfocused. “There's nothing special about my blood in itself. That's not what made me immortal. It’s not genetic, it's a temporal anomaly.”  

“Then how did they do it?” Rex asks, holding the mobile between Jack and Olivia. 

“I don't know.” Jack groans. 

“Whatever they were planning, my grandfather wasn't included.” Olivia’s mask slips, just a bit, sounding bitter. “I think- they considered him inappropriate.” 

The line in Jack’s shoulder sets, his hand holding Ianto’s firmly. “What was inappropriate?” 

Olivia looks unoffended, smiling simply. “He loved a man. He did go on to have a family of his own, and I think he loved my grandmother very much, but he never lied about you, Jack.”

If he could speak to Angelo, Ianto’s quite sure they’d have a lot in common. He tries not to think too hard about Jack, living in times like those. It must’ve been hard; exhausting and fruitless. It’s almost impossible to imagine- though, the 21st century must feel conservative and oppressive compared to the 51st. Ianto only stopped lying about Jack a few months ago. Maybe he’s been too hard on Jack- in some areas. He can’t imagine having to go through that, over and over again for centuries.

“And I think that Ablemarch, Costerdane and Frines found that a little unfortunate. As a result, Angelo was forced to watch them from afar.” 

Jack’s hand shifts in his own, rubbing his thumb up and down Ianto’s palm.  

“Made enough money by the looks of it.” Gwen comments, gazing up at the high ceilings. 

“Well, Jack told him enough to navigate his way through the twentieth century and make a profit.” Olivia chuckles. 

“But what did these families do to the world? They started in Manhattan with Jack’s blood. Eighty years later, the whole planet becomes immortal? That just doesn’t make sense.” 

“In 1998 we intercepted a message. It was just one word. Blessing.” 

It’s funny they’re tracking something that took place when Ianto was 15. If only he’d known, gotten a head start. 

“We've heard about The Blessing.” Jack says, and Olivia nods. “They found it. Whatever The Blessing is, the three families found it.” 

“And now it's time that we found them. Esther, have you got any news for us?” Rex says, into the mobile. He listens, Esther’s voice small and tinny. Then, glances at the phone, confused. “Esther? Esther? I think there's trouble.” Rex says, running to the window. “Shit.”

Gwen joins him, then Jack and Ianto: a mass of cars have surrounded the property- CIA uncover trucks. 

“What is it, Rex? What's happening?” Gwen peers around him. Rex pushes past her, brandishing the mobile toward Olivia. 

“Tell us where we can find the three families, quickly.” 

Olivia shakes her head, confused; staring out the windows. “You'll never find them, that's the whole point. They came out of New York with the motivation of keeping this secret. Where's the best place to hide yourself? In plain sight.” 

The door breaks in, a swarm of CIA agents with handguns trail into the room. They immediately aim for Jack and Rex. 

“Everybody, stay where you are. That's an order. You, with the others. Matheson, don't try anything.” One of them shouts. Gwen raises her hands above her head. Rex and Ianto follow reluctantly, and Jack keeps his shoved in his pockets. 

“We are arresting all of you for violations of the Miracle Security Act.” Rex and Esther’s idiot boss shouts, his voice wavering; sweat pouring down his forehead. “This is the same as treason now, folks. And I want a word with Rex. Right now. Secure him.” 

“Who the hell are you?” Gwen shouts. 

An agent points a gun at her. “Don't move. That's your last warning.” 

“Brian Friedkin.” Esther says, from where she’s being held by another agent. 

“Yeah, of course it's Friedkin.” Rex scoffs. “If anyone's working for the three families, it's him.”

The man- Friedkin- sweats bullets, his face turning in anger. “That's enough! Keep him covered. We may have to end this with an unfortunate number of Category Ones.” He motions for another agent to grab Rex. “Get him out. Take him out.” 

“You're not taking him.” Ianto rushes forward, but Jack grabs his shoulder. “Jack-”

“Back down.” An agent orders. Gwen takes her chance and does the same as Ianto, from where Jack can’t grab her. 

“No, you're not! Rex!” She screams. Esther closes her eyes, pulling away from the agent. 

“Back down!” The agent matches Gwen’s tone, roughly grabbing her around the waist. Ianto shoves Jack’s hands off him as soon as Gwen is tossed around.

“Okay!” Jack shouts, pulling Ianto back again. “Okay, all right, okay? It's alright!” Jack looks between them all, eyes wide. Ianto steps back, though Jack doesn’t release his grip. 

“They've just taken Rex.” Gwen glares. It’s not until she meets Jack’s eyes that she backs down. “All right.” 

Jack squeezes Ianto’s shoulder. “Okay?” He holds Ianto’s eyes. He’s planning something. 

“Alright. It's fine. Right, right.” Ianto breathes. 

“They are not legitimate CIA.” Jack says, quiet and short. 

“No.” Ianto nods, eyeing the agent up and down. She’s wearing plain clothes- no identification. Her gun isn’t even standard issue. “No they’re not.” 

The agent tilts her head, gun aimed at Ianto now.

The door slams against the wall of the entrance corridor, and another obnoxious American voice comes yelling down the hall. Jack keeps his hand on Ianto’s shoulder; eyes glancing at Angelo and the large TV beside him.  

The Television flickers to a projection of Friedkin, close to the camera: close enough to pick up what he’s saying. “What do you mean transmit ? Transmit from where? You're not wearing a wire, we already checked.” 

Gwen pats down her coat and jeans, staring at the screen. “Ha. The Eye-5s: he stole them!” 

How Rex managed that, between getting into the Colasanto’s estate, he’s got no clue. He’s going to have to get Rex to teach him his pick-pocketing technique. 

Esther twists herself, smiling at whoever’s come down the hall. “Mister Shapiro, you've got a confession from Brian Friedkin live on the air.” 

“You're lying.” Rex’s boss says, but his lip wobbles. More, official CIA agents flood the house; banging down doors across the hall. Olivia stands close to her grandfather’s hospital bed, gripping the railing. 

“Agent Friedkin, show yourself!” The annoying voice shouts. The man is tall and gray; mid 50s, maybe. He walks with confidence, his gun still in its holster. 

The extra ‘agents’ are all cuffed and taken away, leaving Esther and Rex to re-join them in Angelo’s room. Rex grins, smug, while meeting the annoying fed. 

“Mister Shapiro, sir,” Rex says. “Tell me something. All that time I was on the run, did you think I was a traitor?” 

Rex levels his gaze, and Mr. Shapiro holds it steadily, before nodding once tightly. “There was evidence, woven through your records going back ten years or more. Whoever these people are, they're a lot smarter than Friedkin. And they're operating on all sorts of different levels.” 

“Yeah, but now we've got them on the run.”

Mr. Shapiro hums, taking up pacing in front of the team. Esther stands, straight backed, while Gwen slumps over and Jack keeps his hands shoved in his pockets. Ianto brushes shoulders with him, glancing between the group. “Maybe. So, let's start from the beginning. Exactly what is going on?”

Rex nods tightly, putting back on his CIA mask. 

“Er, hold on a minute, mate. Rex,” Gwen mumbles. “Look, I need to know, did you plan this whole thing from the start?” She flexes her hands at her sides, balling them into fists. Rex shrugs, grinning. 

“No, I just improvised when these Colasanto people appeared.” He says, casually. Gwen rolls her eyes. 

“Okay. Well, you could have warned us.” 

Shapiro narrows his eyes, tapping his foot on the floor. “People seem to be talking over me, which is fascinating and rare.” He snips. “And forbidden. I'll come back to you. First of all we're gonna deal with this Colasanto woman. The granddaughter Olivia. Have I got that right?” 

Olivia simpers, nodding tightly. “Yes, and as far as I'm aware, the CIA does not have the authority to question me on my property.” 

Shapiro runs a hand through his hair, tsking. “Get her out of here.” 

“This is my house!” Olivia evades the first agent, but another grabs her around the waist. 

“Take her to the safe house.” He directs. “Tell her to line up her lawyers so I can piss on them long and hard. So, these are the Torchwood clowns?” 

Olivia is cuffed and taken away. She doesn’t put up a fight, her heels clicking back down the hallway and out the door. 

“Torchwood did more to piece this together than the entire CIA.” Ianto cuts in, though Jack tugs on his shirt from behind. “Esther and Rex have managed to-”

“You're Ianto Jones. PA. 28. English. Have I got that right?” 

Ianto stares at him, and Jack tugs him back again. Whoever this man is, Jack thinks it's serious. Too bad . “No, I'm not a PA and I’m not English.” 

“Ianto,” Esther murmurs. “This is Allen Shapiro. Don't. Really, don't.” 

“Well, he's not scaring us. Hello.” Gwen steps forward, and Jack tries to wrangle her as well; like they're children, or disobedient puppies. 

Shaprio smiles, sardonically. “And you’re Gwen Cooper. Ex-Police.” He rolls his eyes, and Gwen balls her fists. “I am sick of ‘ Torchwood’ already. Can we deport her? Let's deport her.” 

“Hey, hey!” Jack wretches Gwen back by the shoulder, standing in front of them both. “Leave her alone.” 

“Don't you dare.” Ianto grits. Jack glares at him, but tugging on their leash is only making him more uncomfortable. Jack’s lost his grip on leadership, if he’s willing to bend the knee for the CIA.   

Rex steps in between Gwen and Shapiro. “Don't touch her.” He puts his hands up, glaring at Gwen. “Sorry, sir. With all due respect, Torchwood has proven to be extremely useful. I think it's worth keeping them all on our side.” 

Shapiro tilts his head, eyes scanning up and down Gwen’s body. “Did you sleep with her?” He asks. Gwen’s jaw drops. 

“Pardon me?” 

“No, sir, I did not.” Rex glances at his shoes. 

“Because most women that bitter you've slept with.” He turns to Esther. “Did you make that mistake?

Esther’s lips form into a thin line. “No, sir, I did not.”

Ianto might actually make this man a Category 1 by himself. Shapiro shifts his weight, watching Esther squirm. 

“Esther Drummond. Rex said you did a good job out in the field.” 

“Thank you, sir.” Esther smiles, slightly. Shapiro rolls his eyes. 

“In my opinion you deserted your post. I'm docking your pay.” With that, Shapiro turns to Jack, pointing a finger at him. “And what is it with you, Red Baron? You got Snoopy up your ass?” 

Gwen chuckles, beside him. Ianto doesn't get the joke, though. Jack stares plainly at him. “While you're wasting time, Mr. Shapiro, we've got the names of the people who are responsible for causing the Miracle. I suggest we get to work.” 

They have a silent standoff, Shapiro holding Jack’s gaze for a long moment. 

“Torchwood is going to work for the CIA?”

Jack laughs. “I think the CIA can work for Torchwood , if you're lucky.” 

“We've got a plane ready and waiting twenty minutes away.” Shapiro groans. ‘“The sooner we pool our resources, the sooner we can end this thing. All right, let's go. Everybody out.” 

“What about him?” Jack motions to Angelo. “We've got a very sick man here.” Shapiro eyes him, before throwing a hand up. 

“Didn't you read the news? Nobody dies. Now, there's a nurse around here somewhere.” 

Jack doesn’t make any move to leave, and Shapiro heaves a huge sigh. 

“You got two minutes. Don't leave them alone.” 

Shapiro and crew, minus one agent, leave; Jack turns to the rest of them. 

“Jack,” Ianto takes a step forward. “Did we just join the CIA?”

He grins, laughing a little. “I think we did.” 

The CIA gets busy once Friedkin blows up the car containing the only woman who knew anything about the three families. Just their luck. 

Jack goes to say goodbye to Angelo one last time. Ianto stands just outside the door frame; close enough to hear Jack, but far enough for privacy. 

“More bloodshed.” He hears, though Jack is quiet. “All these years later and my life hasn't changed. I can't believe you were watching me.” 

“Maybe you said hello. Some old man asking me for directions and I just looked right through you.” Jack sounds his age; world weary, exhausted and sad. Ianto leans against the doorframe, closing his eyes. “Did you see him?” 

Ianto’s heart picks up, though he couldn’t say who the ‘him’ is. Jack takes a moment to gather himself. “Did you see Ianto?” He asks Angelo. His voice tightens, close to breaking. “All those years, spying. You must’ve. I think you’d have liked him.”

Ianto is taken aback- just for a second; time freezes around this moment, overhearing Jack speak so softly, so kindly, about him. In his mind's eye, Jack has a small smile; the one he only shares in quiet moments, usually in the dark. 

“Or- probably not. You’re both the jealous types.” Jack chuckles, to himself. “You’ve got to admit, though. He’s-” His breath comes out shaky, and Ianto peeks; just be sure he isn’t crying. “He’s a better man than I’ll ever be.” 

Ianto turns back quickly. Jack doesn’t seem to have noticed, but- who knows with Jack. Ianto holds his breath. “I haven’t loved someone like this in a long time, Angelo.” Jack whispers. “Men like you; you kill me.” 

Ianto’s going to be sure that last part never happens. The first bit though, makes his heart pick up it’s pace; breathless against the doorframe. 

He’s spent a lot of time being hard on Jack. It’s easy- Jack will live forever, Ianto won’t: his anger feels righteous, irrational. He knew, he’s always known Jack will leave him. He’s hardly considered how horrible that will be for Jack, only his own heartbreak; the loss he’ll feel when Jack is gone from his life. That heartbreak might last longer than Ianto was even alive, for Jack.

Sometimes he looks at Jack and hates him so much, for that. That Jack can never draw the short end of the stick, from his perspective. He gets to dance his way through life, be the bright; dashing hero forever and ever. He loves him for it. More than he hates Jack, he knows he is a good man. He has the heart to care so broadly, for so long; knowing he’ll lose everything. He does it again and again, and he’s doing it for Ianto right now. He looks at Jack and has seen how much weight he bears on his shoulders, alone and scared and lost. He looks at Jack now, and really sees him for the first time. 

“I’m sorry time wasn’t kind to you.” Jack stands. Ianto hears his coat shuffle. “I really am.” 

Some of the monitors start beeping; high pitched and squealing. 

“I’ll see you later, old man.” 

It sounds like Jack kicks something over, or fumbles with some of the equipment. “What's the point of that? He's sick, I know. Oh, how do I-?”

All the beeping stops at once, the room going stiffly quiet. 

“Sorry, Angelo. But even if your heart stops, you go on living nowadays.” Jack sighs, his boots creaking across the floor. “Like I said, I've got to go.” 

“No way.”

Ianto pauses. He hears the buzzing of Jack’s wrist strap. 

“That's impossible.” 

Jack stumbles for a moment, before Ianto turns into the room. He’s got his knee’s up on the hospital bed, starting compressions. 

“Jack? What-?” 

“How the hell did you do this?” 

Ianto stares, before kicking into action. While Jack is doing compressions, he plugs the entire life support system back in; scrambling to understand what is happening on the monitors. They’re just screaming right back at him again. 

“I've got a man dying here!” Jack screams. “Do you hear me? Someone's dying!” 

Gwen rounds the corner, followed by Rex and Esther. “Jack? What's happening?”

Jack steps away from Angelo, spreading his arms out. 

“He's dead. He died.” His voice is tight, eyes wide. “Angelo died right in front of me.”

Gwen furrows her brow, pressing her hands together. “Just think about it, Jack. He can't die.” 

Jack swivels around to her. 

“Listen to me. This man's dead.” 

Shapiro, and the rest of the CIA, cut in- shooing everyone else away from Angelo’s bedside.

“Get away from the bed. Clear the area.” Shapiro shouts. Jack stays, staring at Angelo’s corpse. “That's an order.” 

Ianto tugs on Jack’s sleeve, winding a hand around him. “Jack, just let the medical staff take a look at him, okay?” 

“He can't be dead, Jack.” Esther paces. “He just can't be. That's impossible. Nobody can die. He's just Category One.” 

“I scanned him. He's gone.” Jack shouts, exasperated. 

“But is it everyone?” Rex asks. “I mean, did the world just change back? And if so, what happens to me? I was supposed to die. You, tell Langley to go online, check the hospitals. Check with everyone. Because if he's dying, then who else is dead?” Rex pats around for his phone. “Matter of fact, just come with me. Excuse me.” He grabs Esther’s arm, pulling her away. 

Jack follows them into the hallway. “He's dead!” He shouts after them. 

Shapiro stomps around, distraught. No one else has died at all, other than Angelo Colasanto. He keeps shouting orders, though Jack, Gwen and Ianto stand in the corner.    

“We should go.” Jack whispers, leaning into them. Shapiro snaps around to them. 

“No, no, no, no. Nobody is leaving. This house is secure.” 

“It's not a crime scene.” Ianto furrows his brow, stepping in front of Jack. 

“Are you sure about that?” Shapiro crowds in on them, stepping into Ianto’s space. “Dying of old age can now be considered a crime. Something happened here, and we are going to search this place for every last bit of information. And nobody is going to leave until we know exactly what happened. So you can stay just where you are, Captain .” 

He leaves in a huff, leaving people to watch them. 

“I'm sorry.” Gwen mumbles, staring at Angelo’s empty bed. 

“Yeah.” Jack sighs, running a hand down his face.  

“And you really don't know what happened to him?” 

Jack tightens his jaw, lowering his gaze. Ianto puts a hand on his shoulder.   

“What is it, Jack?” Ianto asks, quietly. “Are we in trouble?” 

“Yes.” He nods, pointedly. 

“We're in trouble because he died?” Gwen whispers, glancing around at the CIA agents across from them. 

“Yeah.” 

“But why?” 

Jack doesn’t answer.

Chapter Text

He needs to get Gwen and Ianto home. He’s been thinking up ways to get them back since Gwen’s family was officially safe. For how long though, now? Now that he knows there's three other well connected families watching their backs? The Colasantos just got lucky, but the three families will make their move soon, he’s sure of it. 

He doesn’t know what to do, but he’s not willing to let this go sideways. These families are too close, and they’ve proven they won’t relent, won’t spare their own in getting what they want. They won’t relent in getting to Jack, which means having the team close is putting them in the line of fire. 

No one’s bothered with the floor yet, which is fantastic. If Jack can get Rex alone, he might just be able to get the CIA off his back for long enough to do what needs to be done. He hadn’t known what it was right away- but he’s pretty sure. 

Esther is milling around the platform, which Jack watches. She’s just been out for a while, coming back with red eyes and steaming. He’s not sure what's up, but when she crouches down to inspect the platform, he shoots up. 

“Esther. What are you doing?” He mumbles, stepping just a tad too close. She backs up. 

“Have you seen this?” She points at the platform, shrugging. “Maybe it's the floor.”

“What do you mean?” Jack keeps his voice low, hoping he doesn’t attract Gwen or Ianto’s attention. Esther furrows her brow. 

“Well, we're going through evidence like Angelo's body did something. But the only strange thing with this room is the floor. I knew something was bugging me. Look, the bed's on a sort of platform.” She ducks down again to toggle with the wood, and Jack swats her hand away. 

“Esther, don't. Just leave it.”

She looks at him, really stares, for just a second. Jack watches something click behind her eyes. 

“But… look, it's not part of the original design. It can't be.” 

“Esther, seriously.” Jack leans in closely. She doesn’t back away. “Listen to me. Don't say another word. Just leave it.” 

“Jack?” Ianto says, from across the room. Esther turns to him. 

“It's the floor.” She says, pointing. Ianto screws his face up in confusion, looking between the two of them. Gwen steps in. Fantastic. 

“Esther, stop , right now.” Jack says, through gritted teeth. Shapiro enters behind them, smoking inside. 

“This is a hell of a lot better than nicotine gum, let me tell you. You know what the rumor is from Washington? If cancer cells are immortal, well, then the Miracle switched them around and made them just plain mortal. They're keeping it quiet in case there's an outbreak of spontaneous joy. I mean, we can't have that. But it means we've got nothing to worry about. We can smoke our way into the next Great Depression.” He laughs, callously. “Now, somebody want to tell me what's going on? Torchwood?” 

He points at Jack and Esther, leveling his gaze at Jack. 

“Nothing.” He says quickly, stepping in front of Esther. He grabs her arm, but she tugs herself away toward Shapiro. 

“I'm sorry, Jack, but we're trying to figure out how Angelo Colasanto died.” She finds his eyes, and through the confusion she is determined. “I think there's something under the floor.” 

Shapiro furrows his brow for a moment, but trusting Esther’s word: the room is flooded with CIA, and the platform is removed. Jack sits on the windowsill and avoids Ianto’s questioning. 

“Okay, people, thank you very much.” Shapiro stands at the head of the hardware, glaring. Jack’s hunch was right. “Leave the room immediately. Good work. Wait for my call. Captain Harkness, what is that?” 

“No idea.” 

“Jack, tell us what it is,” Esther pleads, pointing at it. Jack can’t look her in the eye. “because if you could hear my sister volunteering to be categorized, you would help.” 

Ianto glances at her, but doesn’t make a move to comfort her. He looks at Jack like he’s caught on. “If he says he doesn't know, he doesn't know, alright?” Ianto steps in front of him, placing himself between Shapiro and Jack. He’s got no idea what to do, but he needs time. Gwen and Ianto can buy him time. 

“I've read the Torchwood file. Are those materials extraterrestrial?” Shapiro steps in, and Gwen cuts him off. The two of them, Gwen and Ianto, stand in front of Jack shoulder to shoulder. Both of them level their gaze, and Jack hangs his head. 

“He said, he doesn't know. Now get out of his face.” Gwen barks. Shapiro grins, sickeningly. 

“The file also says that Jones, Cooper and Harkness inevitably form an alliance, and the best results can be achieved by separating them.” He steps into Gwen and Ianto’s space, before turning to one of his men. “Okay, get them out of here.” 

Gwen and Ianto stiffen, glancing at each other. If anyone works like a pair of twins, it's them. 

“And I mean it this time. You’re deported; no longer welcome in the United States. Get them out of the country.” 

Two CIA agents come up around them, grabbing for their arms to cuff them. Gwen stamps on one’s foot, and Ianto evades the others' grasp. Jack steps back. It will be better to get them out of here, in the long run. Ianto’s going to hate him for it, though. 

“Don't touch me. Don't touch me.” Gwen throws her hands up. Ianto maneuvers her away from them by grabbing her shoulders, and they stand back to back. 

“Gwen- Ianto, just-” Jack starts, though he can’t really bear to finish. They both turn to him like he’s insane. Even Esther turns her head. 

“Oh, you have something to say?” Shapiro laughs. “No? Well, I'm sorry, but from this moment on Torchwood is defunct. You will be removed from American soil immediately. And God help Great Britain.” 

One of the agents grabs Ianto’s forearm and shoves him. “With me. Don't cause trouble.” 

“Jack?” Ianto struggles, but he’s cuffed behind his back. “Jack you can’t-?” 

“Sir, you've got to reconsider this.” Rex steps in, from his place at the back wall. 

“We'll find you, alright, Jack?” Gwen shouts, still putting up a good fight despite having one hand cuffed already. 

“Jack!” Ianto shouts. His voice breaks, and if Jack were looking: he knows he’d see him pleading to understand Jack’s plan here. The problem is, there isn’t one, beyond getting them home, and safe, and away from this. 

“Just-” Jack turns to Shapiro. “Stop. Okay?” The man grins. 

“Then talk. By all means, start talking, and I’ll stop.” 

Jack holds his breath, and avoids Ianto’s eyes. 

“The CIA doesn't have any authority over me.” Gwen shouts. “You're not deporting me. I'll come back. I'm coming back!” 

Shapiro stares into Jack, as Gwen and Ianto are dragged out of the room, and down the hall. His eyes bore holes in Jack’s coat, all the way until he hears the heavy doors slam shut behind the rest of his team. “Still got nothing to say?” He pouts. “Well, then you're not gonna mind if we dig this thing up and take it back for analysis.”

“You can't.” He surges forward. “I'm sorry, okay. But you can't touch it.” 

“Oh, he speaks at last.” 

“Jack, come on.” Rex urges. “What the hell is it?” 

Jack groans, running a hand down his face. “Some sort of transmitter.” 

Rex rolls his eyes. “Okay, what does it do?”  

“Well, it mostly proves my theory that immortality is caused by some kind of morphic field.” He snaps. 

“Wait a minute.” Shapiro stands by Rex’s side, laying a hand out. “You know what's causing the Miracle?”

“No.” So nobody bothered to research Morphic Fields in the meantime, either. Great. “Saying it's a morphic field is as vague as saying it's radiation. I still don't know how, where or what is creating it.” 

“So, it transmits… what?” Esther steps in, observing the panel. “Some sort of field that cancels out the first one so Angelo could die?” 

“And where did he get it?” Rex adds. Jack stares at the pair for a moment. 

“I don't know everything.” 

“How big is this field?” Shapiro presses on. “The whole house?” 

“Smaller. About the size of that panel.” 

“So…” Shapiro paces the perimeter of it, then looks back up at Jack. “We would be able to stop the Miracle if we could create a field as big as what, the whole planet?” 

“No, you need a structure like this panel as big as the whole planet .” 

Shapiro, clearly caught out, turns away. “Well, I'm sure we'll be able to replicate its effects.” He bends down to touch it. 

“Don't touch it. Seriously.” Jack says, pulling him back. “That's a proper null field. You change the dynamic and it could nullify everything, even life.” 

“Well then, you need to make it safe.” Shapiro shakes his hand off. 

“I am not an expert.” 

That doesn’t seem to phase him, and Shapiro fucks off to whatever he does while he stalks over to the rest of the CIA. “You're the closest thing we've got. Now make it safe. And then we're gonna take this thing back to Langley.” 

The only flaw, in his plan to get Ianto and Gwen home, is Rex and Esther require some convincing to do what they’re told. He gets them to pretend to work, while the Null Field covers for them. Now- he just needs to get himself out of here. He explains the technology, though Rex seems to have fallen back in line with the CIA. Esther, however-

“He's right.” She says, absentmindedly pressing her fingers against the panel. 

“Whose side are you on?” Rex mutters. 

“Even if the government had this one panel and they put people inside and they died, it's the same thing as the ovens.” Esther says, doing her best not to look like she’s speaking. She’s not very good at it. “It's control over life and death, and we've seen that that doesn't work.” 

“But you trust me, don't you? Both of you? After all we've done?” Jack begs, looking at both of them. “Please, I'm begging you, get me out of here. Look, this is the Alpha plate. Without it this is just a bunch of metal. You've got to get me and the plate away from this house.” 

“Jack, listen to me. We can't, okay? We are the CIA and this is a genuine CIA operation.” Rex whispers, shaking his head. Esther looks willing, but Rex’s word would dissauge Shapiro. 

“This is history , Rex.” He pleads. “This is everything . Please, get me out.” 

He snags the Alpha plate, just as Rex stands. 

Then, it is time to play the waiting game. Esther knows better than to ask questions with CIA agents hovering around, but she does stay close. Unsubtly glancing up at Jack every few minutes, checking he still has the plate. Rex comes back into the room, rubbing his eyes.   

“Hey, Jack, Shapiro wants to see you.” Rex winks, before turning to the agent currently keeping an eye on them. Jack pulls his coat on, putting the Alpha plate in that pocket. “Yeah. Wait a minute. You might want to grab your coat. He's outside by the forensics vehicle.” 

“Thanks.” The agent turns to grab his jacket, and Rex knocks him out with the butt of his gun. 

“Thank you.” Jack says, honestly. Rex rolls his eyes. 

“Yeah, just shut up.” He directs Jack and Esther to the door, whispering. “Now listen, this is the story. Jack knocked him out, held us at gunpoint and stole a car, okay? All right, come on, okay.” 

Jack nods, following where Esther points to the courtyard. Once outside, they keep their heads down, and Esther passes him a car key. 

“ All right, now listen. There's gonna be a guard on the gate. I'll tell him that Shapiro authorized a car. Just keep your head down. Go, go, go.” Rex turns away from them, rising up and walking normally toward the front gate. He and Esther slink around the cars. 

“Which one is it?” Jack asks, holding the key up. Esther shrugs. 

“I don't know. They're all the same. Just chirp the thing.” 

There are some sounds from across the courtyard, and then a man- an armed CIA agent- steps out from the shadows. “Hey, stop!”

Jack grabs for the car door, shoving the key in. 

“I said, stop.”

He feels the bullet, before he hears or registers it. He crumples, though it's definitely not the worst he’s ever gotten. He’s got to remind himself he’s not going to heal, though, he’s going to lose a lot of blood. Esther grabs at his coat. 

Esther and Rex deal with the man, and dump him into the back seat. His shirt is getting soaked in blood; the world going sideways as Esther takes off into the night. 

Chapter Text

He and Gwen both sob through the first leg of the flight home. He can’t help it- it’s almost like months worth of emotion floods out of the two of them, and neither of them say a word until they’ve landed for the 1st layover. He should’ve spent the eight hours figuring out what to do next; gathering information or figuring out who to contact to get them back to L.A. or- anything. Instead, he and Gwen look like zombies, barely having spoken to each other by the time they land in Cardiff. Gwen calls Rhys from a courtesy phone, and he promises to come pick them up, so they sit and wait. 

Ianto paces, feeling the need to move, willing his brain to think and coming up empty. They’re going to be banned from flying- all of their fake IDs and Visas still in the safehouse in L.A. Creating new fakes isn’t too hard, but he’s certain the CIA will warn customs, in Wales and the states. 

All his things are still in France, right where he left them months ago. 

He’s tempted to try and call Jack’s mobile from the courtesy phone, but that might be too obvious. He might not be able to answer, anyways. The CIA probably has him in the back of an armored car. 

At least he’s safe. Jack is probably safer with Rex and the CIA than he is with them. 

He could call Esther. She would answer, and she could cover for them. Her allegiance to the CIA only extends so far as their moral integrity, and from where Ianto’s standing; they’ve got none. He’ll call her tomorrow, once he’s rested and ready to pick back up the fight. 

“This is all my fault.” Gwen says, unprompted. She’s been sitting on a little bench, head in her hands, for the past ten minutes. Ianto doesn’t say anything. “I’m so sorry, Ianto.” 

He puts a hand on her shoulder. He doesn’t have it in him to be angry, or upset right now. “It’s alright.”

“No, I mean it.” Gwen looks up at him, with those round; sad eyes. Jack always hated that look; knowing he was going to fall in line in an instant. “If I hadn’t-” Her eyes well up, and she rubs her face. “I’m just- I’m sorry.” 

Ianto nods tightly, and sits down next to her. “I’m not upset with you, Gwen.” He mirrors her pose, holding his head on one palm. 

“You should be.” She laughs, darkly. “You should be there, with Jack.”       

That's the first time either of them have said Jack’s name in at least 20 hours. It stings; the usual warmth (or, embarrassment) that follows a mention of Jack being doused with something cold. It feels like, though he knows it isn’t exactly true, Jack abandoned them again. 

No- he didn’t abandon them. He just let them go, he didn’t even put up a fight. That feels worse than being abandoned. 

Ianto rubs his eyes. “It’s a good thing I’m not.”

Gwen hums. “Good, good you're mad at him too.”

“Of course I am.” Ianto smirks, glancing at her. “He’s horrible. I’m sure he has some stupid plan he thought we couldn’t handle, and didn’t bother to tell us.” 

Gwen pats his knee, nodding. “It sucks you still love him, huh?” She grins, though it’s small and kind. 

The familiar warmth floods him again, thinking about loving Jack. God damn it.  

“Yes.” He groans. It might be smart to have Ianto out of the way so the families or the CIA can’t use him as bait or cannon fodder, but still. He can hold his own, and Jack is well aware of that. When he sees him again he’s going to be so pissed, though right now he can only summon a flicker of anger against the warmth in his chest. “The bastard.” 

Gwen hums sympathetically, though the weight on her shoulders seems to have shifted. “Do you think there’s anything we can do?”

“I’m not sure.” He says, running a hand up into his hair. “I thought Esther would be worth calling, then see from there.” 

Gwen nods, thoughtfully. “Right. Yes.” Her voice is stiff, and she stares out into the empty baggage claim. 

Though Ianto would like to keep Gwen on the team, he thinks better of it. She needs a break- she needs Anwen, and Rhys. If the last forty eight hours are indicative of anything; its Gwen needs to be with family right now. Not fighting. He taps her hand. “I think it might be good for you to take some time off the case.”

She furrows her brow, annoyance clouding her eyes. “What do you-”

“I mean,” He puts a cautionary hand out. “You’ve just had a scare, with Rhys and Anwen. And there's not much we can do, not right now at least.” 

Gwen purses her lips. “Ianto, I am trying very hard not to be offended right now.” 

Ianto smirks. “Well, you did almost hand my fiance over in a hostage situation, so-”

Gwen swats at him, but she heaves a great sigh and relents. “Right. Guess I should quit my job and be a full time mum, the pressure has finally gotten to me.”

“I’m sure Rhys wouldn’t mind.” He chuckles. That earns him another slap. 

Gwen turns that over for a while, and the two sit in silence. 

“I only will if you agree to keep me informed.” She says, quickly. “No keeping things from me, just because I’m being a mum.” 

“I promise.” He says. Gwen nods. “There'll be no secrets on this end of Torchwood.”

When he promised no secrets from Gwen, he hadn’t considered they were both going to be living in her parents house anyways. You can’t keep many secrets at all when you’re living down the hall. But, neither of them have the hub they can go back to now, and every flat or room left to rent is currently being filled by the elderly emerging out of retirement homes now that they’ll live forever. He hadn’t considered the renters market would take such a toll from the Miracle, but that just shows where his priorities had been. It’s probably for the best, considering they need someone at home at all times to watch Anwen and Geraint. 

Esther is no luck- which is worrying. He’d really believed she would pick up, let him know Jack was okay. Jack doesn’t answer his mobile, but who knows if he even still has it. The best they can hope is he’s in CIA custody, where he’s (hopefully) least likely to be assassinated. Gwen tells him to cool it, that if Jack didn’t want them there he’d probably instruct Rex and Esther not to contact them until they had too. 

He has a hard time believing her. 

No Martha still, either. UNIT must’ve upped security. Sarah Jane gets in touch herself- asking around for Jack. Ianto doesn’t know what to tell her, but she seems used to men like Jack going AWOL when they’re most needed. She does offer up Luke and his friends babysitting capabilities, which is very sweet, but he and Gwen think it’s better not to endanger more children. Between scavenging for what little information he can gather on PhiCorp, the three families, and Colasantos, he goes to visit Rhiannon. He can’t bring himself to call ahead- a very loud voice in his head hoping she’s out and he can come back when he’s a little more sure of where he stands. It hits him, while standing in her driveway, he hasn’t seen his sister in well over a year. David’s 13th birthday has come and gone, and Mica will be turning 8. 

Rhiannon’s… complicated. He hopes in the year past them she’s warmed up to the idea of Jack; more than just Jack. That Jack just might be a staple in his life, going forward. He knows, somewhere deep within him, that Rhiannon doesn’t truly mind; that her ribbing comes from someplace caring. She’s just got an odd way of showing it. Johnny’s no help, either. 

He wills himself to knock on her door. There's a shout from the other side, so Rhiannon is clearly in, and the sounds of someone undoing locks. 

When the door swings open, Rhiannon stares at him. 

“Oh my god.” 

He gives her a slight smile, but her eyes stay bulged out like she can’t believe he’s real. “Hi, Rhi.”

“Oh my god!” In an instant, she grabs him around the shoulders; pulling him into a crushing hug. “What are you- what are you doing here?” She holds him out an arms width away, taking him in. 

“I got deported.” He chuckles, but that doesn’t soothe her at all. She looks around them, then tugs on his jumper; forcing him inside. She locks the door behind her, and the noise of her front yard quiets. From what he can tell it looks like Mica and David are off at school. 

“Is everything alright?” She says, standing against the door. She looks well, all things considered, with her hair down and in a comfortable jumper. 

“Yes. Yes!” He puts a hand out between them, calming her. “I’m just- I’ve come ‘round for tea. If you’re not busy.” He chuckles. 

Her shoulders sink, a breath washing over them. Then, she smiles. “You bastard.” She says, sounding dumbstruck. 

“Sorry.” 

“No, I mean it.” Rhiannon slaps his shoulder, stepping in past the entryway. “You could’ve told me you were alright, after calling to tell me all that.” She clears a space on their counter; which is filled with magazines and forgotten school work. 

“See that was the problem,” he grins. “I got kicked out of the country before I had the chance.”

“I thought you were going to be murdered!” 

“ Nobody can be murdered.” He says, sitting down across from her. He’s sweating, just a bit, waiting for her to mention Jack. Or, God forbid, he has to mention Jack first. 

“Did you- did you figure out what's caused this? This Miracle?” She fills the kettle with water, leaning away from the sink. “I told Johnny this was something your people would be investigating- he thinks I’m lying, so you’d better tell me.” 

“We are investigating it, but- we haven’t got much. We were close, before we left America.” 

“But,” she chews her lip. “Will you be able to solve it? Make it stop?” 

“I-” Rhiannon’s gaze is so strong, pinning him in place. “I think so. I hope so.” 

She nods, tightly, before going to put the kettle on. 

With her back to him, he rubs the side of his face. He tries for anything non-Jack related he can tell her, of his last year and a half, and comes up empty. She sits. 

“How’ve things been, with the kids and-” he tries. She rolls her eyes. 

“Schools are still functioning, which is good. But David’s been suspended three times this year, so we’ll see if he keeps it up.” She clicks her tongue. He’s sure there's been an uptick in all sorts of violence and upset amongst kids- this sort of disturbance is bound to cause distress. He should say something like that, but Rhiannon continues. “Mica is doing good, though. Got good marks.” 

“And- you and Johnny?” 

She sighs. “I’m sure you’ve heard. Everyone’s been taking pay cuts and getting sacked. We’re lucky we’ve both kept our jobs as it is.” 

Ianto had known, distantly, but it's much different to hear it out of your sister's mouth, than read it from a report Esther’s just projected across the wall. He’d been so caught up in everything Torchwood: the not dying, Jack, the secret plots and intrigue, he’d almost forgotten what it must be like to live with this every day. To see it and be able to do nothing, other than scrounge up what is yours and hope for the better. 

“I’m sorry.” He says, and means it. 

“Yeah, well,” Rhiannon taps the counter between them. “You just put an end to it, alright?” She smiles, though now- he can see how exhausted she must be; how worried. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t call- I-”

“You were busy, it’s okay.” 

“It’s not,” and he knows it to be true in an instant. It’s not fair to Rhiannon; to Rhys and Mary, that they live like this. Saving the world has never felt less important, when he sits down and can’t even bother to fix it for their families. He doesn’t know how Jack keeps pressing on like this. “But, once this is over, I’ll be back at home. Permanently.”  

She smiles, just slightly, before the kettle goes off. 

“That’d be nice.” She grabs a pot holder and pours them both a mug. “I wouldn’t worry so much, if I knew where you were.” 

She knows which tea he’ll like, and how he likes it- she’s been making his since she was old enough to use a step ladder and the stove. He accepts the warm mug and her carton of milk gladly. 

They both settle into the silence, waiting for drinks to cool. Rhiannon purses her lips, and Ianto fidgets with his sleeves. He can tell, that she can tell, both of them know the other is avoiding a Jack sized elephant in the room.    

Rhiannon peers over her mug, before asking: “So, is your boss-“

“ Yes, Jack is.”

“You didn’t even let me finish!” She giggles.

“I knew what you were going to ask.” He groans. 

“And what was that?”

“If he was with me, or if I was with him all year or if he was staying with me when this is over.” He mouths, petulantly. 

Rhiannon rolls her eyes. “I was going to ask, where is he now?”

“How do you know he’s not in Wales?” 

She rolls her eyes, taking a sip of her tea. “You haven’t mentioned him once.” 

Damn it. “He’s still in America.” 

Rhiannon grins, sipping her tea. “But, I’m glad to know you were with him all year long. ” 

“Rhi.” 

“He’ll be with you, when this is all over, as well?” 

“Shut up.” 

“It’s just good to know.”  

Ianto, face flush and annoyed, gets up to pour himself some more tea and avoid eye contact. 

“Am I ever going to be allowed to meet him?” Rhiannon sinks down onto her elbows, reveling in having thoroughly embarrassed her brother. 

Ianto still, carefully drawing out pouring the tea so he doesn’t have to face her when he says: “Yes.” 

“Oh?” Rhiannon chuckles. 

“I think- uh-” he clears his throat, feeling an embarrassing fondness flutter in his chest when he thinks about this. “I think Jack is sticking around, in my life- I mean.” 

She raises her brow, skeptically, and hums. She knows how to get Ianto to spill, being his older sister after all; nothing could pass between him and his mum without Rhiannon finding out for many, many years, all due to a hum or a skeptical look his way. They both inherited their father’s ability to get their way just from a carefully thrown glance. 

“I don’t know how things will shake out,” he sighs, leaning against the counter. “You know- Torchwood- but Jack wants to have a life together. And I do too.” 

Rhiannon smiles, genuine surprise fluttering across her face briefly. “That’s good. I’m glad.” She says, softly. 

They’re quiet for a while- a silence unfounded in their childhood, and all too common in their adulthood. The silence of their childhood was always one of held breaths; anxiety and rage building up behind it. In their adulthood it layed over them like a shock blanket- neither of them able to bridge the gap of having children; moving to London; losing their mother; and Torchwood had wedged between them. 

“I really am glad to see you happy, Ianto.” She mumbles, the quiet pillowing around them. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you like this.” 

He gives her a smile, shaking his head. Rhiannon had never met Lisa- he’d never had a chance. She’d had a new baby; there’d been no reason to run after her brother in London. He’d barely mentioned her, even after she died. She might mean before London, though. She probably does. 

It’s almost hilarious how dismal his twenties had been, brightened only by a light at the end of the tunnel. He hopes his thirties will be happier. 

He goes to sit down across from her again.

“Yeah.”

Rhiannon squeezes his hand, standing up. “Want to stay for lunch? I can make-”

Ianto purses his lips. “Let me, yeah?”

He knows she can’t cook, so she acquisses. She sits back down, and he gets up to look into her fridge. He hasn’t had the chance to cook in months, given they didn’t have much of a kitchen, or time, in LA. He pulls out a few things, though tries to pick what the kids won’t miss. When he steps back, he catches a glimpse down the hallway to Rhiannon and Johnny’s bedroom.

Across the room, hidden in the hallway where it’s less noticeable: is a new crib, still mostly un-assembled leaning against the wall. He stares at it, for a very long moment, before he looks back at Rhiannon.

“I wasn’t going to tell you.” She says, quickly. “I’ve- we hadn’t been expecting it.”

“No- are you serious?” He says, still holding a carton of eggs. “Thats- thats good?”

Rhiannon shrugs, but she’s smiling in spite of herself. “There's going to be a baby boom, from what I hear.” 

“Do the kids know?” 

She rolls her eyes. “Yes, there's half a nursery in the hallway. Do you think they’re stupid?” 

He throws his hands up. “Sorry just- Mica’s not going to be the baby anymore.”

“Oh I know.” She groans. “It’s been quite a shock.”

Ianto raises his brow. He can only imagine: poor Mica. “How far along-?”

“Five months. It’s going to be another girl.” She glances down at herself, grinning. 

“David must be pissed.”

“Yes he is.” 

He stands there, taking that in. Rhiannon clears her throat.

“So, if you can: it’d be nice if this was all over in a couple months.” She says, coyly.
He laughs, finally dumping the egg carton on the counter. 

“I’ll do my best.” 

Seeing Rhiannon lights a fire under him, and he starts working twice as hard on tracking down the families (and Jack) in the next month. They keep busy; he and Gwen go out and steal drugs; becoming drug runners for the rest of the neighborhood. Rhys handles the distribution, while he’s between jobs. The days weigh on them- leads falling through their hands just as it seems it will follow through somewhere. He gives up on calling Esther, since she evidently won’t, or can’t, answer. Trying Rex is futile as well, but that was more expected.  

If there is any, and he means any, saving grace to his long days: Anwen is definitely it. Ianto's never been that good with kids, but Anwen's sweet; she's quiet; and it's nice to be able to steal the baby away for a long walk and be thanked for it.

"How are you?" Gwen asks, laying a hand on his shoulder. He's watching Anwen scoot around cheerios, sometimes putting them in her mouth.

She's good company, and he gets to give her back to mummy when she's being difficult.

"I'm, well," Ianto chuckles. He feels like he hasn't slept in years; like someone has ripped a piece of him out and he's been trudging through the rest of his life bleeding. "You know."

Gwen laughs, nodding. She messes with Anwen's bow from her grandmum, and decides to take it off. "Yeah."

She leans against his shoulder, watching Anwen across from them. "Do you think she'll remember this?" Gwen asks, sounding distant. Ianto shrugs.

"Hopefully not." He cringes. "I think she's going to be an interesting kid, though."

Gwen laughs, bringing a cheerio up to Anwen's lip. "Yes, I think she'll scare all the other children on the playground." Anwen doesn't accept the food, instead grabbing Gwen's hand to put a finger in her mouth. 

"You should put her in karate, or something. Somewhere she can show off."

Gwen tsks, wiping her hand on her jeans. "Might be smart, and my mum would hate it."

He laughs. “What do you think, Anwen? Are you going to be tough?” He asks her, but all he gets for a reply is her hand slapping the high chair. “Mhm, yes I think so too.” He turns to Gwen, then. “I think she’s already got it.”

“O-oh yes.” Gwen chuckles, picking Anwen up and out of the chair. She stands her up on her thighs. “Mummy and Ianto can teach you how to fight weevils all summer and then send you off to school to pick on the boys.” 

Gwen moves Anwen’s little arms to mime punches. Ianto puts his own hands up, and lets her tap them with balled baby fists. Anwen gets a kick out of this, laughing and screeching her head off. It’s all in good fun, could even be swung as working on Anwen’s strength in her legs. She can toddle around, but she’s shaky on them. Gwen and Rhys coddle her, too, but Ianto can’t blame them. With all they’ve seen- between the weevils, the fairies that will steal children, Daleks, and the 456- he’s surprised Anwen is allowed outside at all. 

Neither of them notice Rhys standing in the doorway. He clears his throat. “It’s bath time for the baby Torchwood.” He smirks. Gwen pouts, but passes Anwen over into Rhys’ arms. 

“Do you want any help?” She asks. Rhys shakes his head. 

“I’ll manage.”

They listen to Rhys make it up stairs, drawing a bath. Anwen giggles upstairs. Gwen slumps forward, into herself. “I can’t help but think how badly I want Jack back to normal.” She sighs. “It’d be some consolation. That he could make sure Anwen and her family are safe when I’m gone.” 

Ianto hums. There's no way the miracle is staying, but Jack’s mortality could. They never know. He’d prefer if Jack went back to normal as well, though. He can’t- it’s impossible to imagine Jack dying of old age, somewhere forty years down the line. It’s a tad selfish- he wants Jack to be back to himself, be safe from whatever comes after this. He can’t imagine a world without him. It might bother him, but Jack is so much more than Ianto’s: the world needs him, needs someone as dedicated to it as him. 

Jack’s been here long before Ianto was ever born, and he hopes he’s there after. 

“I’d better go check on dad.” Gwen stands, heaving herself up. 

Mary goes to get the door. Gwen is doing the washing up, and Ianto’s hunched over their only remaining laptop with Torchwood software researching ‘the Blessing.’ 

The delivery man walks right past them, hiding his face. 

“It is posh getting deliveries, mind.” Rhys says, pointing the man through to the kitchen without looking up. 

“Oh, it's my mother's latest scheme. She's starting to cook for the club, raising money and charging two quid a cake.” 

The delivery man sets down the food, behind everyone’s backs. 

Ianto sits straight up, his heart racing when he hears the man speak. 

“Oh, isn't she pretty? Are you eating that food, honey, or are you wearing it?” 

He stands, quick enough to see Gwen grabbing Anwen from Oswald Danes’ hands. Gwen rushes over to Rhys, pointing him out of the kitchen. 

“I realize this might be something of a surprise, but-” Danes smiles. 

“What's going on?” Rhys mumbles, as Ianto pushes past him. 

“I've been told that you have certain information that I need.” Danes puts his hands up. He doesn’t have any obvious weapons on him, though the big pullover might be for hiding something. “I apologize for the subterfuge, but I do happen to have the most recognisable face on the planet.” 

“Not anymore.” Gwen turns around, saucepan in hand, and smacks him across the face. Then again, until Danes hits the floor. Ianto takes her side, though there's not much else they can do. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Rhys shouts, holding Anwen’s head into his chest. Gwen stares, wide eyed, at Danes. 

“Look at him, for God's sake! Look at him!” She shouts. “It's Oswald Danes in our house.” 

“Oh, my God.” Gwen’s mother covers her mouth, standing next to Rhys in the room over. Danes stirs, grabbing his face. 

“You touch my daughter again and I will kill you.” Gwen points a large steak knife at him. “Take her out of here, Mum, now.”

Mary takes Anwen from Rhys and grabs her coat. 

“Good, thank you. Because I don't want her to see her mother-”

Ianto moves to grab her arm, but Rhys cuts in between Gwen and Danes before she can do anything. 

“Stop it! Stop right there.” Rhys shouts, putting his hands in front of her. “Hush now. Come on. We don't want you arrested for murder.” 

“Thank you, sir.” Danes groans. Rhys turns on his heel, balling his fists. 

“They can arrest me for that. Now you tell me. Tell me quickly, you murdering bastard! Come on. Tell me before I get the boys round. Before I shout your name out loud in the street and fetch the bloody mob, tell me, what do you want?”  

In that moment, Ianto comes to understand just why Gwen is in love with Rhys. 

“Jack Harkness.” Danes says, a smile curling on his lips. “The men who smuggled me into this country, they brought Harkness in three weeks ago. Now I paid good money to find you, Gwen Cooper, and-” he nods at Gwen, then finds Ianto’s eyes. “Ianto Jones, so: I really need to see Jack. And you will do exactly what I ask.” 

“We don’t know where Jack is.” Ianto says. He hopes he’s lying- there's no way Jack is in the UK. If he were- why wouldn’t he find them? Contact them? What could he be running from that would bring him here, even? 

Danes makes a face rolling his eyes. “Oh, but I know your little captain has been watching me, Mr. Jones.” he wags a finger around, tapping his chest. “And he’ll be very concerned if I’m at his friends’ doorstep.” He points the finger at Gwen lazily. “Friends and-” then, he aims at Ianto. “Fiance, if I’m not mistaken?”

Ianto works his jaw, and Gwen grabs his sleeve. 

“Ah, congratulations.” He hisses. Ianto moves to grab Gwen’s knife, but she snatches it away. 

“Even if Jack were here- why wouldn’t he just kill you himself?” Gwen spits. She puts a hand out across Ianto. His phone starts ringing in his pocket, and he grabs for it. 

“He’ll keep me around,” Danes levels his gaze, grotesque smile plastered on his face. “Because I have a name. I have the name of the man who created the Miracle.” 

They all hold their breath, and the phone stops ringing. 

Gwen elbows him, eyeing his pocket. If someone is calling around for them, someone is looking for them. He pulls it out, to check. 

His screen, with a missed call and text from an unknown number, reads: Look out the front window ;) - J

Chapter Text

Esther’s sitting outside, definitely pissed he’s doing this. 

Jack peers out the stalkers window, catches a glimpse of a certain tall, handsome figure. Before he parts the curtain, he sees Esther’s car out front. She waves.  

“I need you to have no memory of seeing me, so I can leave you with nowhere to put your hat, or you can drink it. Option two is better.” 

Once the man downs the Retcon, he does feel a little bad. But he was handsomely paid, so not too much. 

Ianto pulls open the curtain, and looks up into the only lit window. His face lights up immediately. 

He smiles, saluting, and then steps away. 

Gwen and Ianto meet him in the street, and Esther steps out of their car. Gwen picks Esther up, mid sprint, and pulls her off the ground with her tight hug. Ianto, though, stops dead in the street when he meets Jack’s eyes. 

Jack slows, too; time stopping in the space between them. He understands, just for that second, what it must feel like to have a timelord’s perception. He sees every possible future between them, every option on this timeline for them. Then, Ianto steps forward, and the moment is broken by him crashing into him. 

Ianto wraps his arms around Jack’s middle, tucking his chin into his chest. The wind is knocked out of Jack, but he wraps his arms around Ianto. 

“Oh thank god.” He mumbles, tightening his hold on Jack. Jack cringes, pain shooting through him. Ianto looks up to see him wincing. 

“Sorry. Wait- what happened to you?” He says, pulling his arms back, and replacing them with gentle hands. Jack intercepts one.  

“I'm fine.” He promises. “I am, don't worry.” 

Ianto finds his eyes again: he’s scanning Jack’s face, and looking manic before Jack presses in, gently, for a kiss. Ianto stills, for a second, and then deepens it. Ianto’s hands find their way inside his coat, and Jack’s hold him tightly between the shoulder blades. The kiss is burning hot; electric- before Ianto pushes him away bluntly. 

“Where were you?!” He shouts, though it comes out more confused than angry. “Where the fuck have you been?” 

Jack puts his hands out. “It wasn’t safe to contact you- I’m sorry-”

“No, where have you been?” Ianto’s voice is filled with disbelief. 

“We’ve been on the run, trying to get as far as possible.”

Ianto’s shoulders sink, rolling his eyes so hard his head goes with him. “You bastard.”

“Sorry,” Jack says again, making a tentative step into the space between them. “Really. I didn’t- I didn't want to abandon you.” 

Ianto purses his lips, glaring in Jack’s direction. From his peripherie, he can tell Gwen and Esther are watching intently. 

“Shut up.” Ianto steps in, falling into Jack. “It’s alright.” He says, into Jack’s shoulder. 

Jack holds him, very tightly, and kisses the top of his head.

Esther steps in beside them. “I’m sorry- I got your calls.” She says quickly. 

He snatches his gaze over to Esther, dazed. “What?”

“Your messages.” Esther smiles. “Sorry we couldn’t come out of hiding sooner.” 

Ianto just shakes his head, pulling her in for a hug. 

“It's so good to see you!” Esther giggles, into his shoulder, as Ianto picks her up as well. She gets a beaming smile, and Gwen steps in toward Jack. 

She swings her arms around his neck, and he holds her tight. “He always knew you were coming back.” Gwen chuckles. “He’s just pissed.”
“I can tell.” He grins. He’s glad to see she’s safe, even if he knew it from a distance. It’s always better to see it; be able to hold them in his arms. 

“Oh God, I missed you. I have missed you so much.” She holds him out, arms width away. “But why's Oswald Danes in my mothers kitchen?” 

Jack grins. “Let's go find out.” 

Jack ties Danes up with Ianto’s help, while Gwen gets Esther situated and on Wifi at the kitchen table. Ianto can’t seem to leave his side, glancing up every few seconds like he’s got something important to say. 

When Jack sits down, he’s holding Ianto’s hand.  

“Okay, all we need is information.” Esther says, leveling her gaze at Danes. She’s gotten so good, in the months they’ve been on the run. “Tell us what you know.” 

“And what happens to me after that?” Danes raises. Rhys, standing at Gwen’s shoulder, laughs bitterly. 

“Oh, then we kill you.” He grins. “And don't forget, there's no murder anymore, so I can make you Category One forever, pal.” Gwen swats at him, and he rolls his eyes. 

“We haven't agreed to anything.” Ianto says, strictly. Danes’ gaze rolls over to him. “So you just tell me what you know or we are calling the police now .” 

“And rat out your dear friend?” He smiles sickeningly. Gwen turns to him sharply. “You're keeping a few secrets yourself, Gwen. All those whispers, all those looks towards that cellar. Are you hiding something down there by any chance? But- excuse me, you were gonna call the police.” 

While Danes talks, Ianto and Gwen hold each other's eye contact, shoulders stiffening. Whatever they’re saying in that look, they come to a consensus, and don’t say anything.

“Okay, there may be deals to be made.” Esther looks around, awkwardly. “There may not. But before we can decide anything, there needs to be a full and fair exchange of information. Mr. Danes, there's no going back. You need to tell us what you know.” 

Danes clicks his tongue, and Ianto’s hand in Jack’s sweats. 

“I'll say this. PhiCorp gave me an assistant, a woman called Jillian Kitzinger, and in my crate over there I have Miss Kitzinger's laptop.” 

“For God's sake, is that it? We raided her file way back.” Gwen groans. 

“Wait a minute.” Danes’ voice pitches up, his shoulders rising. “As soon as I'd stolen the laptop, good little Jilly did exactly the right things. She changed the passwords, opened new accounts, deleted the old ones. But I was watching. And I know my way around online better than most. I know how to keep myself hidden. So I shadowed her, and I've been following Miss Kitzinger these past two months. Here's a funny thing. Yesterday at twelve midday she disappeared. Her entire profile online vanished. Jilly Kitzinger ceased to exist.” 

That gives pause to Esther and Ianto, so it must be interesting. 

“You said you had the name of a man .” Esther points out. 

Danes breathes a heavy sigh. “Soon as I say this I'll be at your mercy.” 

“Tell us his name!” Jack demands. 

“I'll have to trust you. Remember that. I'm trusting you. One man's name keeps reoccurring. Kitzinger was employed to send him information. And his name's Harry Bosco.”

The room holds their breath, while Esther chuckles. 

“Esther?”  Gwen shoves her a bit. 

“You think you're clever, Oswald? Is that really all you had?” 

Danes furrows his brow. “It's a name?” 

“Harry Bosco isn't a man. Harry Bosco's a process.” Esther leans on her elbows, squaring her eyes with his. “It goes back to Vietnam. It was the first war to be televised and the government didn't want US networks taking feed directly from the Vietnamese, because for the first time information was beyond their control. So they put agents into every newsroom, every major TV network, filtering the output for the public. Cleverest of them all was a man called Harry Bosco.” 

“What did he do?” Ianto asks. 

“He'd alter information. It was subtle. He did it by mistranslation. He couldn't censor or change, but he could manipulate the English translation. Change one word, change the entire meaning. If you say victims instead of bodies, you influence public opinion. All the channels ‘Harry Bosco’ these days.” 

“So that's it? Dead end? Done? Can I have him now?” Rhys jumps, and Gwen slaps him again. 

“My point still stands.” Danes speaks up. “The name's still important because Kitzinger works in PR. Why would she be handling this Harry Bosco process?” 

Ianto looks to Esther, who nods. “To be fair, it's a good question. Why would the families hire Jilly to do all this in the first place?” 

“What's she translating?” Ianto moves around to Esther’s side, bringing the suitcase with Jilly’s laptop, all while still holding Jack’s hand. He maneuvers it into a completely uncomfortable spot, but Jack doesn’t let go. 

“The three families changed their name, now Jilly's changing words? That’s connected.” 

Ianto and Esther work to power up the computer, while Gwen and Jack remain useless. Danes is kicked into the corner, tied to the refrigerator door. Ianto and Esther get so absorbed in going through Jilly’s emails, that Gwen figures it’ll be more productive to get dinner than stand around reading. That, and she needs to call after her mum and Anwen. 

When Esther hits a break through, she presents it to the class. 

“Jilly processed this clip from a local news station in Shanghai. It's got three layers of language. It's in the local Wu dialect dubbed into Mandarin and then she sent it out with English subtitles. How are we supposed to know what's wrong or right?” 

“What, nobody speaks Chinese?” Oswald laughs. 

“Shut it!” Rhys shouts, but the man is right. Esther finds his eyes. 

“Esther?” He raises his brow. She simpers. 

“Yeah, I know.” She pulls up her phone, and calls Rex. 

He picks up after the third ring, while Gwen and Ianto look put out. 

“ What?” Rex says, halfheartedly. 

“Rex. It's Esther.” She speaks softly, grinning at him through the phone. “Don't tell anyone, but I need your help. I've got a lead.”

With the phone on speaker, he can hear Rex shouting for people to clear out, and then his end quiets again. 

“Where are you?” He says. 

“Can't say, so don't make me.” She sing-songs. Jack looks to Ianto, who just steps in to put a hand around Jack’s hip. “We're safe. We're fine. We're okay.” 

“Well, if that's the plural, I take it that World War Two didn't die.” Rex chuckles. Ianto’s grip tightens around him. 

“It's gonna take more than that.” Jack soothes, but Ianto still furrows his brow. 

“What the hell happened?” He says, reaching for where he must feel Jack’s bandage through his shirt. 

“Nothing.” Jack assures. Ianto evidently, based on the crease between his brow, doesn’t believe him. 

Rex laughs on the other end. “Okay, so that's Ianto. Which means you're in Wales. So much for undercover work. You know, you're idiots. I didn't even have to trace you.” 

“Except you're not tracing us anyway, are you?” Esther hums. 

“No, I'm not.” He admits. 

“We need help, Rex. We need the CIA. We need translations specifically.” Esther focuses up, typing something on her laptop. 

“Oh, shit. Er, okay, I'll try.” 

“You can't tell them why.” She reminds, and he breathes a heavy sigh. 

“Oh, I know, believe me. This place isn't safe. What's the language?” 

“Spanish, and Mandarin. We think somethings been intentionally mistranslated.” 

The videos Jilly mistranslated are horrific, but they point in two very concrete directions. 

“How are we going to get into China, though?” Gwen asks, sinking into her chair. “All the borders are closed.” 

“You could take a slow boat.” Danes chirps. Gwen shoots him a nasty look. 

“Wait a minute, who was that? Who else is there?” Rex asks, his voice getting louder. 

“Just,” Gwen stares at them for help. “Just Rhys.” 

“I knew a man once way back, who worked out of Hunan Province.” Jack suggests, though it might be useless. He’d have to track down the man and hope he remembers him from correspondence. 

“No, just listen.” Ianto points out, pulling up a map on Jilly’s computer. “Who burns down a hospital? I mean who does that? Turns out we've got two twin mis translations. The English stories say medical facility, but look at the addresses. Two blood banks.” 

Esther’s shoulders stiffen, and if that didn’t give them away to Gwen and Ianto, Rex does. 

“Blood again.” He says. 

“Why's that important?” Gwen presses, already suspicious. Ianto looks at Jack. 

“I think,” Esther says, before Jack can interject. “Since Angelo said they used Jack’s blood, there’s got to be something still important about it. ”
Ianto nods carefully. “That's why the families want Jack dead?” 

“I think so. So- I’ve been collecting it.” Esther says, sheepishly. The suitcase with bags of Jack’s blood is still unopened across the room. No one had even asked what it was. 

“What?” Ianto asks, brow furrowed. “Collecting it?”

“Like donating blood.” Jack puts a hand on Ianto’s shoulders, squeezing them. 

“You think that will do anything?” Gwen whispers. 

“Well, they want to make sure he isn’t alive, probably so Jack and his blood can’t get anywhere near the Blessing .” Esther turns. 

Then, just as they were getting somewhere, police break down Gwen’s door. The whole room freezes for a second, until Gwen, Rhys and Ianto spring into action. Gwen locks eyes with Ianto, who's closest to the cellar door. He nods tightly, before pulling it open and disappearing inside. A swat team fills the kitchen a second later. Jack grabs Danes, and forces him to face the other way. 

“Hello there, Gwen.” A very slimy, thin man says. Gwen crosses her arms. 

“Hello.” 

“Got company?” He peers around. Jack steps a foot in front of Danes, sweating. 

“Yeah.” he adjusts his accent quickly- and quite poorly. “We're just visiting from London!

“Don't worry.” The man, thankfully, doesn’t even bother to check who he is. “Anyone who can leave the house under their own steam is of no interest to me.“

Ianto returns, stepping out directly between the man and Gwen. He glares. “What do you want?” 

“Been busy down there, Mr. Jones?” 

“No.” He smiles something rotten. “Just setting rat traps.” 

“Well, you won't mind if I take a look then.” He uses two fingers to guide Ianto away from the entrance. Jack stares daggers. “In the old days, to find a dead body you'd use a sniffer dog. But they've gone the way of the miner's budgie. Brand new app. Thermal imaging. Brilliant, it is.” 

The man takes one step down, brandishing his phone. 

“This is good.” Danes chuckles next to him. “I'm the most wanted man on the face of the Earth, but they want someone else.” 

Jack lunges at him, balling a hidden fist. 

The whole room listens, carefully for what the man could be looking for. Jack’s heart picks up, with an idea what he’s after down there. 

“We've got him!” The man calls, and Gwen pushes past Rhys to race down the stairs. “Behind the wall. Pull it down.” 

“He's not dead! He's not dead!” Gwen cries, her footsteps stopping. Above ground, Rhys and Ianto stand at the edge of the door frame, giving each other equally horrified looks. They’re pushed away by armed police, and a stretcher is brought downstairs with them. 

Jack watches, in horror, as Gwen comes up sobbing, following her father on the gurney. Rhys grabs her around the waist, but she pushes him off to follow. 

Rhys runs after her. Ianto stays in his place beside the cellar door. 

Jack, after telling Danes to stay where he is, grabs Ianto’s hand. 

Ianto stares after Gwen, through the doorway. From where he’s standing, they can see Mary slumped over Geraint’s body. He’s fixed, in that moment, watching her kiss him and cry. 

Ianto pulls him forward, and they join Gwen once the ambulance sirens begin. 

They flank her on either side, and Gwen passes Anwen to him, the little girl cowering into his shoulder at the loud noise. She steps forward, watching her father be driven away. 

“What do you want to do?” Jack whispers. 

“Go to Shanghai.” She snaps. “I don't care if we have to walk. I will travel the whole bloody world to put this right, Jack.” 

Ianto nods at him, tightly. He understands, and goes back inside. 

Rex is called again, and everyone works through the tension around Gwen and Mary. Rhys puts Anwen down for bed upstairs, though everyone can hear her crying through the walls, so Mary goes to soothe her again. Rhys collapses on the couch. 

“I think I can get us in.” Jack looks at the map on Esther’s screen. “Back in the old days, Torchwood tracked down a black market trade in alien artifacts coming out of China. We closed it down but the route stayed open for arms dealing.” 

“We're gonna trust arms dealers?” Esther turns to him, but Gwen just grins. 

“I don't care. I'll do it.”

“But, wait.” Ianto says, from across the table with the other laptop. “What about Buenos Aires? Travel would be easier, but which city is it?” 

“I don't know.” Esther furrows her brow, rubbing her temple. 

“It's both, you bunch of nuts.” Rhys says, from his spot on the couch. He gets up, holding a blow up globe. “You can't see for looking, can you? Look.” He stretches it out to Gwen, using two fingers to hold it up right. “Buenos Aires, Shanghai. Opposite sides of the world. Quite literally, opposite sides of the Earth, yeah? So whatever's going on, there's got to be something connecting them.” 

Gwen jumps up. “Are you kidding me? Is that right?” Esther’s already typing. 

“They're antipodes!” She grins. “They're the antipodes of each other. Two massive population centers balanced on either side of the planet.”

“As the old saying goes, count your blessings, because it turns out there's two of them.” Oswald laughs, and everyone stares daggers at him until he shuts up. 

“But what does it mean?” Gwen peers over her shoulders. 

“Look at the PhiCorp logo.” Ianto grabs one of his folders, holding up a large document. “The letter phi, a circle with a line through it. It's been right there in front of us staring us in the face all this time.” 

“A line through the world?” Everything clicks into place, and Jack takes the ball from Rhys. “The Blessing. The Miracle. We can get into Argentina no problem.” 

“Maybe we need to get into both, Jack.” Ianto says, following his gaze. Jack turns to Esther, who looks like she’s read his mind. 

“Maybe you should go one way.” She smirks. 

“And you the other.” 

“So this is what we're doing?” Gwen marvels, between the two of them. “A mission on both sides of the world?” 

“Biggest mission yet.” Jack grins. 

“Suppose it is, yeah.” Ianto chuckles. 

“And you're taking me with you.” Danes pitches. 

The room stills. 

“No, no, no.” Rhys turns to him, putting on a biting smile. “I've got better plans for you, mate.” 

Danes tsks. “And that's your problem, isn't it, Gwen? You can't let me walk free. Not a man with my desires. And you can't have me arrested. Not now that I know all about your little plans.” 

“They can leave you here with me.” Rhys sings. The rest of the room focuses on Danes’ face. 

“Well, that's just it, you joyous man. You've just trapped your wife completely.” He turns to Gwen. “Leave me here with him and I think he would. I actually think he would. Your husband would kill me. He'd make me Category One with his own bare hands. You would kill me, wouldn't you?” 

“Yeah.” Rhys beams. 

“Is that what you want?” He asks Gwen. She glares at him. “No. I'm coming with you. There's no choice. There's not a choice in the whole of the world.” 

Gwen heaves a great sigh, nodding. Rhys’ jaw drops, throwing a hand out. “No way.” 

“Yes.” Gwen shouts, throwing her hand out. “Yes you bloody listen to me, Rhys Williams.” 

Rhys steps back, and holds Gwen’s gaze. 

“Fine. You take him.” He rolls his eyes. 

“Fine.” Jack snaps. “Danes, Gwen, Ianto and I will head to Shanghai, and Esther will meet Rex in Buenos Aires.” 

Ianto clears his throat. 

“I'm going to have to insist, sir,” He says, far too quietly. He only uses that voice when he’s about to say something devastating. “I’m going with Esther.”

“No.” Jack spins on his heel, leveling his gaze. Ianto avoids his eyes. “No, no- why would we do that?” He almost laughs: he’s not letting Gwen or Ianto out of his sight if he can help it. Two months away was long enough to convince him of that. 

Ianto’s lips form a line, and he looks at Jack. The gaze is private, pleading, and calculated. “You know why.” 

He wants to argue he doesn’t, but he can see it in his eyes. He wants to argue Ianto will always come first, before any mission; any miracle- but he knows he’d only be proving him right. 

“Rex will meet her-“

“No, Jack.” Ianto steals his gaze. “We need an experienced Torchwood member there, you know that.”

Jack furrows his brow, but Ianto's eyes are telling him he’s already lost this argument. 

“Then, I’ll go with Esther!” Gwen steps in, unlike herself. She doesn’t step in on couples disputes, not with them. She'll usually contribute, take sides; but not try and resolve. 

Unless-

Oh. Ianto’s told her, hasn’t he?

Good man.

“Gwen-“ Rhys grabs her shoulder. 

Ianto avoids her gaze. “For Anwen’s sake, Gwen.” He mumbles. “I’d feel better if you went with Jack, alright.”

Gwen stares, open mouthed. “You bastard.”

“I’m sorry.” Ianto gets even quieter. 

‘Thank you.’ Rhys mouths, above Gwen’s shoulder. 

“I’m not happy with this arrangement.” Jack tucks his chin, putting his hands in his pockets. “But, fine.”

Ianto gives him a small smile. Esther looks at them with wide eyes. 

“I don’t get a say?” She asks. 

“No.” Ianto, Gwen, Rhys, and Jack all say at once. 

She puts her hands up. “Fine, fine.” 

Jack looks around at the room; his lover, his best friend, the woman who’s saved his life tirelessly the last two months, and they all look to him for instruction.

When Alex put him in charge, over a decade ago now, what the hell was he thinking?

"Alright: we'll leave for Shanghai and Buenos Aires in three hours. Esther, Ianto, I trust you'll arrange transportation for you and Rex." 

Ianto nods quickly, and Esther is already typing furiously. 

"Gwen and I will prep for Shanghai- we'll need extra first aid, food, whatever we can carry."

"Sounds good." Gwen nods. "Rhys: would you mind shopping for some non-perishables?" 

Rhys rolls his eyes, but grabs his car keys. He eyes Danes suspiciously. 

"You even speak to my wife, and I'll-"

"Oh, don't." Oswald rolls his eyes, big, dramatic and calculated. 

Rhys stomps off into the living room. 

Once things are settled (Ianto and Esther have a flight in four hours, giving them enough time to get to the airport, and Rhys has returned with packs of Jerky and banana chips) they're left to sulk. Gwen, Rhys, and Mary all turn upstairs. A private Cooper-conference to be had. No shouting yet, so that's a good sign. Jack steps outside, after making sure Esther is alright to be left alone with Danes for a moment, in search of Ianto.

He finds him, standing in the grass, smoking. 

Jack hasn't seen him smoke in years. He must have taken it up again in the months since Jack last saw him. 

"That'll kill you." He says, from the stoop. Ianto doesn't jump, so he'd been expecting him. 

"Ha, ha." He gripes. Jack goes to stand next to him, breathing in the second hand nicotine and night air. "You, quiet."

"You're so bossy lately." Jack tugs Ianto, holding him around the waist. The other man leans in, so Jack is bearing some of his weight. 

"And?" Ianto glances up at him. Cheeky. 

"It's promising." Jack squeezes his thigh, and Ianto takes another drag, satisfied. He almost kisses the inside of his palm, letting his eyes fall closed. 

There's so much Jack has to say. The weight on his shoulders, growing since he's become mortal without ever even realizing, feels like it's going to collapse over him- sending himself crashing down. He's got so much to say, but he can't get his mouth to do it. 

So, instead: he moves Ianto's hand away from his mouth, and kisses him. Rough, needy and desperate. 

Ianto, stunned for a moment, holds his still lit cigarette away from them (always minding Jack's coat) and uses his other hand to get a good pull on Jack's hair. They're needy, breathless and hot again, just while the moment lasts. Jack's hands wander down past the curve of Ianto's back, and drinks in the touch, mapping his silhouette in his mind's eye; the arch of his back; his fingers pressing into Jack's neck; his stark blue eyes; Welsh vowels moving toward incoherence.  

Jack only pulls away when he's desperate for air. It's still a sight: Ianto kiss tousled and aroused. His eyes blown and bright under the night sky. 

He stamps out his cigarette with his heel, once his brain catches up to him. 

"I've never been to South America." Ianto comments, turning his foot. "Have you?"

"Spent some time there in the 90s," Jack shrugs. Torchwood business. "My Spanish isn't as good as my French. And don't even ask about my Portuguese." 

Ianto chuckles, leaning back into him. 

The fire; the heat that marred the longest portion of their relationship might be gone, but... Jack is warm, content now. He hopes Ianto feels the same. 

"Ianto- if anything happens, I want you to know-"

"Don't." He cuts in, quickly. Despite his tone, he turns into Jack, and holds him tightly. 

“I will -“ Ianto holds tightly to his coat. “I will see you here again. Soon as this bullshit is past.”

Jack laughs, trying to keep himself from crying. “Mhm, little flat.” He mumbles.

“Large bed.” Ianto leans against his heart. “God, I could sleep for ages.”

“Sleep, and some.”

Ianto hums. “So, whatever you've got to say, you can save it for when I see you again, alright?” He says, voice wavering now. 

Ianto turns his face into Jack’s chest, and Jack gets a horrible, sinking feeling in his gut. 

He’s going to do everything in his power to get back to him. He'll tear up the world if he has too. 

Jack rests his chin on Ianto’s shoulder. “I never did get you that ring.” 

Ianto’s breath hitches. "S'all right Jack." Jack pulls him closer, hiding his tears between them.

Chapter Text

“ Obviously , we need the blood.” Rex puts his hands out, and Ianto dramatically rolls his eyes. They’ve been at it for the past twenty minutes- worse than Gwen and Jack. “You really think they’ll let us walk right in with a suitcase full of it? No, so-”

“Rex, you’re healing.” Ianto shouts, shoving a hand out. “But you won’t survive a blood transfusion. Let alone multiple.” 

Esther grinds her teeth. He’s right, of course he’s right. But Jack would never forgive them if something horrible happened to Ianto. 

“So, what do you suggest?” Rex levels his gaze. An agreement happens, silently, between the two of them. “Fine.” Rex groans. “But if your boyfriend gets pissed with that you are taking the blame.”

“Fine.” Ianto says, releasing Rex. “Thank you.”

Esther clears her throat. “You won’t even consider me?”

Ianto freezes, his eyes focused on Esther’s. He deflates, the line of his shoulders drooping. “Esther- it’s-“

“I don’t have anybody waiting for me, when this is all over.” Esther controls her voice, though her lip wobbles. “You’ve got Gwen, and Jack, your sister.”

Ianto holds his breath, taking a few steps toward Esther. He’s barely younger than her, only by a couple months. He feels so much older than her in this moment, though. The gravity of this situation sits firmly on his shoulders, when Esther feels like she’s being crushed. Like he knows so much more than she ever could. Still- Ianto looks at her like he understands; like he knows what it's like to be completely and totally alone. 

“No.” He says, quietly. “No, Esther, I am pulling rank.” He rubs his eyes, voice shaking. “And- and yes you do. Your sister is out there, and your nieces, and- and there is so much more out there for you than this.” 

Her eyes tingle; getting that prickling between her eyebrows that happens when she’s trying not to cry. That is so unfair. “But-“

“No.” Ianto turns, looking away. She really hears the Welsh vowels Jack obsessed over, there. “I signed up for this- this is my job. You didn’t.”

“Ianto, but what if-“

“Enough, okay?” Ianto looks at her, and though he sounds furious, he looks heartbroken. “If anyone is dying for Torchwood, it is me. End of story.” 

“Okay.” Esther breathes, and Ianto nods stiffly. 

Rex stares between them. He blinks a few times, before hanging his head. 

Torchwood, right. She thinks. He’s dying for Jack.

Chapter Text

Ianto knew, in Gwen’s kitchen, if Jack’s blood was that important, and if the families had connected enough dots to know Ianto was good bait: Jack would only be able to do what has to be done without him. There'd be no danger in Jack putting him first, or giving himself up for Ianto. He won’t be there to stop Jack, either, no matter how horrible the conclusion he’s drawn is. Maybe that's the more truthful version of why he’d insisted he go with Rex and Esther. Can’t keep what he assumes is coming for Jack if he’s all the way in Buenos Aires. 

And, Jack won’t be able to stop Ianto, if that's what it comes down to, to end this. 

He agonizes over it. If the blood transfusions weren’t so horrific, he’d be thinking about it constantly. 

He owes it to Rhiannon; to Gwen and Anwen and Esther to make sure this ends. Esther’s on edge, constantly checking in with him. He blisters, pushing her away. He truly cannot believe he finds Rex to be better company, but at least he isn’t concerned if Ianto’s boyfriend will be upset with them when he finds out. 

Jack and Gwen call, once they make it to Shanghai. It’s timely too, since his blood transfusion this morning. Rex doesn’t have nimble hands, and while changing the bag out: a drop of blood fell on the concrete. They watched it roll, on even ground, in a straight line away from them. Gwen says they’ve seen just the same. 

“ So we've got blood heading northwest, fifteen degrees thirty eight minutes thirty nine seconds north. What have you got?” 

“Er,” Esther checks what they'd written down earlier. “It's heading southeast, twenty three degrees six minutes four seconds south.” 

“You keep that blood safe. They've destroyed blood banks in both cities. That's got to be important.” 

Rex looks between them, and rolls his eyes at him. “It's safe.” 

Jack gasps, groaning on the other end. 

“Jack?” Ianto says, pushing himself out of his chair despite his body aching. 

“Damn it.” Gwen mutters, muffled by movement on her end. 

“Jack? What's wrong?” 

“It feels like all the blood inside me is trying to get out, churning.” 

Esther glances up at him, eyes wide and accusatory. He waves her off. 

“But you’ll be alright?” Ianto presses, his voice wavering. Jack breathes a sigh, on the other end. 

“Yes, yeah. Don’t worry about me.”

“Ha.” Ianto smiles. “

“Okay, okay lovebirds.” Rex taps the table. “Let's get back to the mission, people.” 

“If both cities are connected underground, it's like a pole.” Gwen refocuses. 

“A secondary pole.” Jack points out. “The magnetic pole goes north to south, and now this, from Buenos Aires to Shanghai.” 

“So… what is it?” Esther asks. 

“Dunno.” Gwen says. “But I'm gonna follow. If I keep going fifteen degrees thirty eight minutes north, I'll find it. Wait for my call.” 

“Will do.” Ianto says. 

“And you all, you take care, okay?” Her voice softens. “You never know. We might meet in the middle.” She sounds nervous, laughing into the speaker anxiously. 

Esther chuckles. “Good luck.” 

“And hey, you take care.” Rex leans forward. “Don't do those stupid, lame-ass Torchwood things. Be professional for once.” 

“Just like you taught me, right, Rex?” She laughs. 

“You’re no fun.” Jack’s voice is muffled, but it sounds like he’s making an effort to be heard. Ianto snickers. 

“I think Rex has proven his methods to be a tad more effective, sir.” He chirps. 

“Are you saying he’d be a better leader, Ianto?” Jack’s voice gets clearer, humor clouding it. Rex looks to Esther, who grins in spite of herself. 

“Yes, sir.” Ianto grins, hearing Jack’s dramatic gasp. Esther puts her hand down on the table, beaming.  

“We’ll see you soon, yeah Jack? When all this is over we can take a vote.” 

“If we make it through this Esther, I will willingly step down.” Jack chuckles. They hear Gwen slap him through the speakers. “Hey!” 

“I’ll hold you to that, Jack.” Esther holds the phone up, for final goodbyes. Before they can send the rest of the team off, though, Gwen gets into it with Danes. 

Jack takes the phone, once she’s stomped off. 

“Jack, listen to me. I've got no choice now. I need to bring in the CIA. for backup. Because if we find this place, we're gonna have to move in and take it fast and hard.” Rex follows the plan to the letter. Ianto couldn’t be more grateful for someone who values some structure, even if it usually falls through. 

“Don't give away our location.” Jack reminds him. “Keep Torchwood a secret. Promise?” 

Keep Gwen safe, that reads. At least Jack can keep up that part of a plan, if nothing else. 

“Sure.” Rex rolls his eyes. “And hey, let's meet up for drinks afterwards.” 

Jack signs off, making promises to be careful, and leaves the rest of them in an oppressive silence. 

They all keep talking about ‘afterwards’ as if they can will it into existence. Ianto’s guilty of it, though after each blood transfusion, ‘afterwards’ feels like it falls further from his grasp. 

There’s not much more time to wallow, though- once the CIA joins their forces again. 

Chapter Text

“Who are you?” Danes searches Jack’s face, eyes wide and terrified. Good. 

“Captain Jack Harkness.” Jack smiles. It doesn’t reach his eyes. 

“No.” Danes huffs, turning away. “I spent a long time in prison, and I know the smile of a man who's done terrible things. And your friends, your boyfriend, I've been watching them. Sometimes they like you, sometimes they love you and sometimes, just once or twice, glittering away in those tiny little gaps, they fear you.” 

Jack swallows down the terror he feels, walking into this. The longing he feels to get back to Ianto, safe and sound. He knows, god does he know who he is. He is cruel, withholding and spineless; he’s never been a good man- only learned to do the right thing when someone so good, so compassionate swept into his life. 

“I'm from the future.” He muses. Danes laughs. 

“Well, now.” He steps forward, back into Jack’s space. “Then you must know. Do we make it through this day?”

It's clear as day on Danes’ face, how desperate and greedy he is. Jack won’t give him the satisfaction. 

“The future can change. It's being written right now.” Danes’ face falls, but Jack keeps going. “But one thing I do know. I've seen the stars. I have seen the Universe. I have seen the human race become vast and magnificent and endless. And I wish you could see it, Oswald. I wish you could see that too. Because then you'd know how small you've made your life.” 

Jack knows who he is- beneath all his lives, the bullshit he’s seen, the lies he tells. He can see it on Ianto’s face everytime he looks at him.  

The run over is tense, with Danes following behind. What Oswald said lingers in Jack’s ear, even as they burst into Gwen’s location, the woman who owns the building swatting at them with a newspaper. Gwen’s sitting against a wall, her head in her hands. She’s still. 

“Gwen, what have we got?” He says, tentatively. Gwen’s breath hitches. 

“The sublink's just said there's been an explosion in Buenos Aires. Special ops. It’s-” 

The world stops, staring at Gwen. She looks up at him with those horrible, sad eyes. They’re not dead, he can’t be. 

“I’m sorry Jack, I’m so sorry-” 

Ianto can’t be dead, not yet, not when Jack has so much left to say. 

“They're dead?” Danes gasps, his voice pitching up: getting all too real for him again.

Gwen growls, charging at Oswald. “What do you care? Why don't you just shut it!” 

He lets Gwen get a punch in, before grabbing her away from him. 

“Okay. Okay!” He shouts, holding Gwen’s shoulders. His body screams at him to follow Gwen’s path, tearing through him. “We can't do this, not now.” 

“This is about you, Jack.” Gwen cries, face falling. “ If the Miracle is connected to your blood, then God help them, but they had the only reserve. The only blood we have now is in you.” 

“Then I'd better be careful.” He says, despite himself. Gwen rubs her eyes, grabbing onto his sleeve. 

Jack feels like he’d know- he would know if Ianto were gone. He can’t be, not like this. That's the only thing keeping him going: dragging him toward the Blessing. 

“But you could die this time.” 

“That's the game.” He presses on. Gwen lets go of his arm, taking in a deep breath. 

“Yeah.” Her voice is still shaky, but she holds his gaze. 

He pulls her into a tight hug. “Let's go.” 

Jack’s fighting anxiety as the service lift lowers them down. Whoever’s down there must have seen them, given they didn’t take out the cameras. Gwen takes his hand, as the elevator lurches. 

The doors open, and they’re greeted by armed guards, Jilly Kitsinger, and a singular blonde woman. 

“Captain Jack Harkness. At last.” She grins, clasping her hands together. On her other side is a huge, gaping hole. It’s almost… fleshy, pulsing. Like its aching. 

He’s a little deflated there's not a whole ‘three families’ reunion going on. 

Danes takes his cue. He’s nothing if not a prolific actor. “No, no, this isn't about Jack. No, ma'am. Excuse me, but it's not at all. My name is Oswald Danes. Well. Hmm.” He regards the blonde carefully, gaze flitting up and down her before turning to Jilly. Jack drops Gwen’s hand, a wave of nausea hitting him. “Good evening, Miss Kitzinger. You've been promoted. And this is the new empire you're servicing? My, my, my.” 

The blonde’s lips form a line, and she levels her gaze. “With all due respect, Mister Danes, you're a by-product of the Miracle. Not really relevant at all.”

She aims that toward Jack, but Danes presses on. 

“That's what the Captain said. He tried to tell me that my life has become a very small thing. Tiny. And yet right here, right now, at the very end, I would describe myself differently. I would call myself vital .” Danes, with the same propensity for dramatics Jack saw on PhiCorp’s stage, opens his jacket; baring himself to the families. The bombs strapped to his chest connect to a single detonator, held carefully in his hands. “Madam, you're a fine woman. You should be careful now, very careful indeed. It seems like you've been planning some kind of an explosion, but I'd love to make sure you're still inside.” 

“Advantage Torchwood.” Jack grins, despite the sinking, wretched feeling in his gut that's been festering since Gwen told him what happened. 

The woman stares carefully at Oswald, before chuckling. An overhead intercom system clicks on. “Well, I'm afraid we have a major disagreement here in Buenos Aires.” 

A man’s voice, clearer than you’d expect, hums through the intercom. The blonde smilies up at it. “I'd say advantage Families. Say hello to your friends.” 

“What's that supposed to mean?” Jack demands, heart rising. Gwen shifts, her shoulders tightening. 

“He means us.” A familiar voice grunts. 

“Rex?” Gwen gasps, hands over her mouth. “And Ianto? Esther?” 

“We’re here.” Ianto says, loud and clear. “They caught us.” Jack can even hear the embarrassment coursing through his voice. 

“Just glad to hear you're alive.” Jack shouts. 

“I'll swap your standoff,” The other man says, coy. “for my standoff.” 

A gun is cocked, and he hears both Rex and Esther shout. 

“Don't!” Esther shouts, but the man just laughs. 

“But nobody dies. He'll keep on living, just perforated.” His voice is like ice, chill running down Jack’s spine. “We know how precious he is to you, Captain.” 

No, no no. Not him- anybody but him. 

“Esther. Rex,” Ianto says, cool and calm as ever. “It’s fine. Let him.” 

Jack’s heart drops through his chest, pushing past Oswald to aim his own gun at the blonde woman. “If you hurt him, we've got explosives here ready to go.” He shouts.  

“And don't imagine I won't.” Danes laughs, joylessly. “Whatever happens here tonight, there's no place on Earth that I can go, and I wasn't planning on coming out of here alive.” 

There is a horrible, tense few seconds of silence. Then he hears the safety reset on the gun. 

“So, who's gonna lose their nerve first?” The intercom clicks off, but he’s sure the connection isn’t lost. 

Gwen chuckles, pursing her lips. Jack takes another step forward toward the mass ahead of him. 

“ The thing is,” He pulls out a thin knife, holding the blonde’s attention captive. She doesn’t make any moves to stop him, though. “We don't need explosives or guns or threats, because I've got the most powerful thing of all.”

Jack cuts his finger, just a prick, and the blood flies straight forward into the mass ahead of him. The rest of his body feels drawn into it, aching. “It wants me. Mortal blood.” He gasps. 

Getting ahold of himself again, he turns back to the blonde woman. “The only one in the whole world. So I suggest you're very careful with me, okay?” 

“And if you fail to take the Captain's advice, you can certainly come to oblivion with me.” Danes chuckles. The woman cringes, as Gwen joins Jack at his side. 

She makes a face, curling into herself. “What the hell is that thing?” 

“Can you feel it?” He whispers. It’s calling him in, drawing out the bile in him. 

“Yeah, I can feel it.” She catches her breath, staring it head on. “God, I can. Okay, God.”

Heels click on the grated floor behind them. “It is said that it reflects your own self back at you. What can you see?” 

Gwen’s eyes grow watery, her lip wobbling. “Enough guilt to last me a lifetime.” She breathes, closing her eyes again. “But that's okay. I'm a working mother. I don't need the Blessing to tell me that.” 

Jack chuckles, putting a steadying hand on her shoulder. For her, and to ground himself. 

“And you, Jack?”

It’s not that simple. It’d never be, not with him. Guilt, anger, pain, and the brightest moments, his happiest memories twine themselves inside him; curdling in his gut. Even then, it’s not as awful as he thinks it should feel. 

“I've lived so many lives.” He decides. “And now I can see them all. Not so bad.” 

Gwen shoots him a watery smile. 

“Well, you might want to question your choice of weapon, soldier.” The heels were Jilly’s then, and she snaps just as proudly as her shoes. “Let's see. You brought the world's biggest bastard, wired him up to a bomb and then showed him his soul. Hmm, that's good work. You know, I feel really safe right now.” 

Fuck. 

“Oswald?” Jack rushes over, not daring to put his hands on the man. “ Oswald . Don't lose it.” 

“Sin. The Blessing feels like sin.” Danes eyes are snapped shut, drawing in on himself. 

“Oswald, don't. I need you.” 

He watches Danes unfurl himself, like he’s literally pushing the Blessing’s effects down, locking it away. He breathes heavily. 

“I guess I'm accustomed to sin.”

Jack stares, unsure. “Thank you.” 

“I still don't get it. What are we looking at? The Blessing, is it the rock or is it the edge? What?” Gwen flounders, throwing a hand up at it. Jack’s eyes are drawn to the center; the darkness in between. 

“It's the gap in between, the nothingness. The space. It's alive.” 

Gwen turns to him, pressing closer against his shoulder. “You're the expert. What is it?” 

He leans forward, on his elbows. “The world's been turning for over four billion years. There's so much buried under its skin. The Doctor used to say there's Silurian mythology, Huon particles, Racnoss energy, an expansion of their hibernation matrix, maybe.” 

The com system clicks back on, and he hears the tail end of Ianto’s laugh on the other end. He knew they’d be listening. 

“You don't bloody know, do you?” Gwen chuckles. 

“No.” He grins. 

“No.” She shakes her head, posed on the railing. “It's been here since the Earth began?” 

He raises his brow. “Could be.”

“Yeah. It has. I can feel it.” Gwen grips her hands around the railing, breathing in. “We're so used to these things being extraterrestrial, but this might be the most terrestrial thing of them all.” 

“So, you found The Blessing and you worked out this morphic field.” Rex’s voice breaks through the com system, commanding from Buenos Aires. 

“The Blessing exists in a symbiotic relationship with the human race.” The man on their end says, cool and calm. The room in Shanghai stills to listen. “It transmits a morphic field around the planet, binding us together like magnetism, like sunlight.” 

“But finding it wasn't enough. You had to experiment on it.” Esther says, slyly. 

“No, we fed it.” 

The blonde woman steps forward, as if they’ve choreographed this monolog. “We fed it the blood of an immortal. We had one remarkable artifact. We found a second remarkable artifact. The combination was inevitable.” 

“So The Blessing absorbed the blood, copied it like a new template.” Gwen mumbles, glancing between Jack and The Blessing. “So, the system changed its setting.” 

“You know why it did that? I think you hurt it.” Jack moves in front of her, staring down the blonde woman. “It was being attacked, so it took the blood pattern and made it a gift. It's exerting itself to sustain every person on the planet. This whole Miracle, it's trying to be kind .” 

“ You've seen immortality. I'm living it.” Rex shouts. “Why would you want this?” 

The man laughs, cold and cruel. “This is only stage one.” 

“But you ruined the world out there!” 

The woman purses her lips, chuckling. “The Miracle shocked the economy. The economy collapsed. We tear down in order to rebuild. And now it's almost within sight. The new world.” 

Gwen scoffs. “Yeah, with no room for the poor, the weak or the ones that don't fit in.” 

“That's the way the world works.” Blondie points out, stepping into Gwen’s space. “Now, we're just making it official. The families have just been waiting. Now we can step in to control the banks. The banks control government. The government controls people. Soon we'll be able to decide who lives, how long, where and why.” 

“It's about time!” Jilly shrieks, pumping her fists. Gwen rolls her eyes. 

“So it's the world according to Kitzinger, is it?” 

“Listen, are you really gonna tell me the world was working before?” Jilly eyes Gwen, manic. “Because I have worked for the rich and the powerful. I have stared into the high end of Western society and let me tell you, it is like shoveling an open sewer. These families, they want to make the world fitter , more compact , more disciplined . And I like the sound of that. That sounds like salvation.” 

Jack steers Gwen away from her, making moves to finish this confrontation. “But before you launched this brave new world, you had to deal with one more thing. Me.” 

“So as soon as the miracle happened,” he can hear the grin in Esther’s voice. “you sent the Torchwood email.” 

“His blood endangers the plan. We had to draw him out into the open.” The man chuckles. 

“Well, you failed.” Jack takes his knife out again, brandishing it. “I got to Shanghai. I've got the only mortal blood on the planet. If it gets into The Blessing, life switches back. I can make the whole world mortal.” 

He holds the knife against his arm, pressing the blade into soft skin and watching the blonde woman’s keen eyes follow it. The woman laughs, loud and cackling. “No.” The man, on Ianto’s end, joins her. 

“Oh, no.” 

“Sadly not.”

“He's not listening.”

“He doesn't seem to get it.”

“No, no, no.”

“Polar dynamics, Jack.” The blonde woman says, mocking him. 

“Everything on this axis operates in a polar dynamic field.” 

“You could reset the Blessing,” The woman furrows her brow, pressing her hands together. “Your blood could make the whole world mortal again, but only by introducing it to both cities at once.”

Gwen looks to Jack, holding her breath. 

“You’d need blood in both cities, entering the blessing simultaneously. That’s how we made the world immortal, and I’m sorry: but for you that's impossible!” 

“You did very well, almost worked it out, but all that spare blood of yours went up in flames.” The man says triumphantly. Jack’s heart sinks, frantically clawing for another way out, any other end to this. Ianto, Rex and Esther are very quiet on the other end. 

“So I'm just gonna have to kill you.” The blonde woman laughs, shouting an order in Mandarin. All the guards aim their guns back at Jack. He throws his hands up, and Gwen steps in front of him. 

If there's any other solution- any third way out the Buenos Aires team is hopefully finding- it’d be great if they spoke up. Jack has nothing. They had one plan going into this, one attempt. God he’s an idiot. 

“Jack, I know how your mind works. Even now you're ferociously calculating how you can get your blood to the other side of the world. But I can't allow that. Absolutely not.” 

Danes raises his arm with the detonator, grinning madly. “Oh, oh, oh. I'm warning you, I'll do it.” The blonde woman looks at him, bored. 

“Then I'll die. And that's a shame, because you can blast his blood into that wall and it won't make any difference at all.” She grins. 

On either ends of the world: guns are cocked, there's shouting in Spanish and Mandarin, and then a single voice, beautiful Welsh vowels, cuts through.  

“Listen to me!” Ianto shouts, breaking through the chaos. 

“I'll do it! I'll do it!” Danes screams, looking toward Jack for a cue. 

“If we need the blood of Jack Harkness on the other side of the world, then-”

“I'll do it!” Danes looks manic, brandishing the detonator. 

“Just listen to me! Jack!” Ianto’s voice cuts through the air; strong and commanding. An awkward silence follows it. “It's fine.” He snaps, much quieter than before. “As I was saying, if we need Jack's blood, how about this?” 

There's a silence, everyone listening with bated breath for any sign of what's going on in Buenos Aires. Then, the ground quakes beneath them, and Gwen grabs for Jack. 

“What was that?” Blondie gasps, turning around herself. “What happened?” 

“Ianto, what did you do?” Gwen shouts, holding tightly to Jack’s coat. He pulls her in, keeping her close.  

“That's impossible.” The man in Buenos Aires gasps. “There's nothing special about you.” 

“That's where you’re wrong.” Oh that is his Ianto; his wonderful, cheeky, stubborn Ianto. “I've got Jack's blood flowing through my veins. It's inside me.” 

Jack’s heart drops out of his chest. 

“What?” Gwen gasps. 

“Ianto, dont-”

“See, we knew this blood was important, so as soon as we arrived.” Rex says, his voice strong. 

“We transfused it into Ianto, exchanging his blood for Jack's.” Esther chirps. 

“It should’ve killed me.” Ianto says, and Jack’s heart breaks. “But thanks to your Miracle, I’m the most dangerous weapon in the world.”  

“And everyone thought the blood was gone, so no one even suspected. All we did was keep one final bag, filled the rest with Ianto’s blood, and Jack's mortal blood.” Esther explains. 

“Just walked right in.” Rex laughs, his voice picking up. “Hey, Oswald, you want to be a walking bomb?” 

“Get him out of there!” Blondie screams, directing the armed guards toward Jack and Gwen. 

“Shoot me! Do it!” Ianto shouts. Guards in Buenos Aires ask the man questions, who’s shouting at them to stop. 

“Get him out! Get him out!”

“Nobody moves! Nobody move!” Jack shouts, pointing his handgun in either direction. He looks up toward the com. “Ianto, what the hell?!” 

“You just shut up.” He snaps, all Welsh vowels. “How are you doing this? This is excruciating.” His voice drops, something private between them. 

“Barely holding it together.” Jack groans. “ You are not helping!” 

“Jack-” Gwen cuts in. “We've got blood on both sides of the world, but-” 

“But they will die.” The blonde woman’s voice could cut through ice; all callous and scorned. “Is that what you want? The Blessing will take every last drop. You'll both die, gentlemen. You'll both kill yourselves. You will die in a pit in Shanghai, Captain. Is that what you want?” 

He doesn’t want to die. He can’t bear that Ianto’s so willing. 

“No.” Ianto says, equally as cold. “It’s not, but this- this is worth dying for.” 

Jack’s heart plummets. What has he done; to Ianto, to Gwen, to Esther and Rex. He’s taken their lives and twisted them, ruined them, and theirs are so short- Jack has had all this time and he still hasn’t said it.

“If I die, so the rest of the world- the poor and the sick and everyone you’ve condemned get back their right to life- then this is worth dying for.” 

“And what about your poor Captain?” the man in Buenos Aires sneers. “We’ve been keeping tabs on you, Ianto. Everything Torchwood’s taken from you, everything Jack’s taken from you. Is he worth dying for?” 

Ianto laughs, bittersweet. “ Yes , and I knew that the day I started at Torchwood so you can stuff it.” 

Screw that, he thinks. If he dies in a pit in Shanghai, and Ianto in Buenos Aires- he’ll die knowing he did the right thing, knowing Ianto knows .  

“Ianto- I should have said it sooner, I-”

“Does it need saying, Jack?” Ianto’s voice is desperate, sad. Jack presses on. “I know.”

“Yes! Yes, it really does. I love you.” Jack shouts, wishing he could see him. See his face one  last time. Jack’s heart is lighter, having done that. “I’ve- I should have said it a long time ago, I’m sorry. I love-”

“I love you too, Jack. I love you too.” Ianto’s voice is thin, like he’s crying. 

Jack wants to laugh, hysterically. Gwen smiles, though it's weary. “I’ll miss you both.” She says, tears racing down her cheeks. “You bloody idiots. I can’t believe you Ianto.”

“Sorry Gwen, and hey-” Ianto’s voice is so sad, so worn. “I love you, I’ll miss you. Give Anwen our love, okay?” 

Gwen’s already slipping mask falls, and she sobs, rubbing her eyes. “Oh you bastard.” 

Ianto’s watery laugh rings around the room. “Tell Rhiannon and the kids I love them too.”

“I will, I promise.” Gwen shouts. The building is crumbling, Jack can feel it shaking. 

“I’m scared, Jack.” Ianto’s voice is so quiet. There’s all sorts of shouting on either side, but that's all Jack can focus on. He is too, god is he terrified. 

Ianto deserves someone who's strong, who can guide him forward. “I know. I’m sorry.” 

Jack faces Gwen, cocking his gun. She looks at him with tears in her eyes. 

“Just one last thing, Jack.” 

“What?” 

Gwen holds his gaze tenderly. Her lip wobbles as she says “You don’t have to do this alone.” 

He aims her gun at him, and he nods tightly. 

“Thank you.” 

“Bye, then.” She whispers. There’s so much he should say, so much she should know. She’ll be alone without them. 

“Bye.” Is all he can bring himself to say. 

“Face front.” 

Jack turns, breathing in. 

“Alright.” He says, for Ianto’s benefit. 

“I’ll see you on the other side, yeah?” Ianto whispers, sounding shaky. Jack doesn’t have the heart to warn him, like he had Owen. 

“Yeah. I love you, I’ll see you soon.”

“You too.” Ianto says. Then a gunshot rings out, and all hell breaks loose. 

“No! No! No!” They hear someone fall, and Rex screams.  

“What was that?” Gwen lowers her gun. 

“What was that!?” 

“You bastard! You son of a bitch!” Ianto shouts, joining in on the new chaos. Somethings gone sideways, and Jack can’t piece together what.  

“Esther, come here. Oh, God.” Rex’s voice breaks. 

“These are the days of the Miracle, Mister Matheson.” The man says, voice rising over Rex’s shouting. “She can't die, and we have infinite resources. We can help her. We can make her better.” 

“If the Miracle ends, she dies.” Blondie stares at Jack. “Is that what you want? All of you with your fine and noble deaths, do you really want to bring about hers?” 

Jack breathes heavily, his heart hammering against his chest. 

“Jack, what do I do?” Rex cries. 

“I don't know.” He mumbles. His mind is blank- he’d planned to die, and he was okay with that. But Esther- 

“Oh God, what do I do? What do I do?” 

“I'll tell you what you do, Rex.” Ianto’s voice cuts in, cold. “ Get up, give me your gun.” 

“You carry on. Keep going back to the plan.” Gwen cocks her gun again, aiming 

“We'll kill her.” Jack stares down the barrel of her gun. 

She nods tightly. “I know.” 

“This is Esther we're talking about.” Rex sobs, his voice a horrible reminder over the intercom. 

“Yes, I know it's Esther,” Gwen speaks evenly, but her eyes are watery. “And it's my dad, and it's the only friends I have left, and it's everyone who's ever gonna die. But, Rex, we've got to do this and I'm gonna tell you why.” 

Buenos Aires, and Ianto, are silent. 

“Because I'm standing here and I'm staring at Oswald Danes. And he chose when that girl lived and he chose when that girl died. And no one should have that power. Not the rich, not the mad, not anyone.” 

“You're choosing now.” Danes chuckles. Gwen closes her eyes, shaking her head. 

“Yeah, you watch me.” Gwen snaps. 

“You'll kill Jack. All of your Torchwood team. You'll kill them all.” 

Gwen steals her gaze, locking eyes with Jack. He nods. “Yeah.” 

“Oh, you are magnificent .” 

“Ready? Rex, Ianto?” 

“I'm sorry. Yeah.” Rex’s voice is so small, unlike himself. “Ianto?” 

“Thank you, Rex.” 

“I'm so sorry.” Gwen whispers, as blondie and the man scream to get someone to stop them. 

Two twin gunshots go off, and Jack sees white. Hot, searing, familiar pain seeps through him, and he dies. In his last moment, desperate and aching, he thinks of Ianto; in the same pain, on the other side of the world. 

And then, he wakes up. 

Gasping for air, grabbing around for Ianto beside him. Gwen shrieks, fighting off Kitzinger to throw him into the elevator. He and Gwen book it out of the building, leaving behind Danes and the woman from the families. They’re barely out the door when it all goes up in smoke.   

He pulls Gwen away from Jilly, and she squirms. But Jilly gets up, and they keep running. 

“You changed back.” Gwen says, back in the hostel. Without Danes. Without Rex, Esther, or Ianto. “Maybe they got out- maybe they-” her voice shakes, sounding far off; distant. 

“I don’t know, I don’t know.” Jack holds his head in his hands. Gwen tries their cells- and there's nothing. There's nothing.  

“So, what do we do, Jack?” Gwen asks. Her voice is small. It reminds him of Alice, small and frightened. He’s sure she means where do they go- home, or to Buenos Aires. The bodies will need to be recovered, before UNIT closes the sites for good. He’s got to call his contact at UNIT, for that matter. He should call Martha. He can’t will himself to do any of that, can’t bring himself to tell Gwen that. “Jack?” She says, again, and Jack looks up. Her eyes are filled with tears, bloodshot and tired. She’s looking at him and pleading. 

“You need to go home.” He says, quietly. If he can’t do the right thing for Ianto, he can do it for Gwen. “and I’ll come back, once I-” he chokes on the words. “Let me handle the Torchwood business, alright? You get back to Anwen.” 

She nods tightly, like she understands. 

“You’ll come back?” She whispers. She sounds like a little girl. 

Jack steps forward, pulling her into his arms. “I will, I promise I will.” 

On the other side of the world, after being airlifted out of the site of The Blessing, Ianto is elated. Not because he’s alive- though that is something to celebrate. But because if he is alive, and he knows this to be true- more than he’s known anything, Jack is alive. Every cell in his body knows it, like his heart is being stitched back together evenly and completely. Taking out the defects and the scars sewn over by heartbreaks past. 

Jack is alive; the world is right; and he loves him. 

Nothing could be easier, no fact more simple; more intrinsic to the fabric of the universe. 

He’ll see him soon. 

Chapter Text

The concept of a stag party usually requires the bachelor to have, among other things: friends, a bride-to-be, and a propensity for going out. Ianto is batting zeros all around. So, what Gwen plans for the night after the stupid signing of papers, is more ‘getting wasted in their apartment’ than it is anything else. 

Gathered here today are just about every bit of their family Jack and Ianto have left. That’s something truly miraculous. Rex and Esther even made the journey to Cardiff- promised sightseeing and vacationing after the jet-lag and hangover subsides. Sarah Jane sends her love, but said she’s too old to party nowadays. Jack had a laugh with that. Martha, and her husband Mickey, bring a giant, expensive bottle of wine (“UNIT pays well.” Gwen had joked, elbowing Jack. He rolled his eyes.) and the tightest hug Ianto’s ever had. 

“Oh I am so happy to see you!” Martha shrieks, wobbling back and forth with him in the sitting room. The Welsh in the party are already a tad tipsy. “I’m sorry- I know I already said, but really I am sorry- we weren’t allowed to contact Torchwood.”

Jack scoffs. “Figures.”

“But!” Martha raises her wine glass. “Thanks to my good word, and some hearty persuasion, UNIT’s officially indebted to you, Jack.”

“You leave out the bit that it was his fault in the first place?” Gwen quips. Jack wheels around to glare at her. Martha gathers Gwen up in her arms next and Mickey gives Jack a warm, bro-ish hug behind the girls. 

“What they don’t know can’t hurt them.” She giggles. 

When it’s Jack’s turn to get a bruising hug from Martha, she gives him a private smile; all watery and kind. “I’m so glad you’re okay.” 

Jack wraps his arms around her waist, despite being taller. “I’m always okay.” 

She smacks his shoulders. “Don’t even lie to me, Jack Harkness. Ianto will give me all the gruesome details once he’s drunk enough anyways.” 

Jack beams at that, drawing his gaze back to Ianto. He pulls Martha the way of the rest of the party. Rex is sitting with a suspicious arm around Esther (he will be cornering them to figure out what that is about) and listening to Gwen rattle on to Rhys about their adventures in L.A. Rex throws in embellishments. 

“And just as we were about to hear the names- bloody Rex barges in, guns blazing and shoots his head off!” She laughs now, and Rhys sips at his drink. 

Jack rounds behind Ianto, putting a hand in the small of his back. He leans into the touch, slowing down for a moment. They’ve had a tender day; all sweet kisses, gentle guiding hands and tickling warmth glowing between them. It’s lacking the bruising, blistering fire that once was, but he can’t really bring himself to miss it when Jack tells him he loves him, again, for the 100th time in one day. He truly thinks he might never tire of it. 

Then, Jack trails his hand down somewhere lower, and Ianto rolls his eyes. 

There’s no Rhiannon, though Ianto is definitely going to point out she couldn’t come even if she wanted- no fun if you can’t drink. But, he’s not ready to invite her into this, just yet. He’s warming up to the cold still. 

“Team TARDIS, team Torchwood!” Jack grins, waving a hand between Martha, Mickey, Rex and Esther. “Martha Jones, Mickey Smith meet Rex Matheson and Esther Drummond: newest American branch of Torchwood 3.”

Rex shakes his head. “We are not Torchwood, we’re CIA.”

“But you’ll do Torchwood work!” Gwen elbows him. “Thus, you’re part-time Torchwood part-time CIA.” 

“We’ll see about part-time CIA.” Esther purses her lips. “Rex is trying to keep me from quitting.”

“You saved the world!” Rex shouts, like they’ve had this argument many times before. “We should be running the fucking CIA!” 

“I don’t want to run it.” She groans. “And neither do you! You want to save the world not- push papers around and yell at field agents.”

Rex rolls his eyes, deflated. 

“It sounds like,” Jack grins, sitting down in the chair across from them. “You want to work for Torchwood.” 

Ianto leans against the arm, a little unwilling to lose Jack’s touch. 

“You’re lucky you’ve got CIA contacts.” Rex rolls his eyes. 

Martha grins at him, pointing at Rex subtly. ‘Together?’ She mouths.

Ianto nods, which earns him an excited smile. “Right well, Torchwood, CIA, and UNIT: what sort of trouble are we causing tonight?” 

It’s actually a fun party- like the nights in with the entire hub. The talking does get a bit much for Ianto, after a few hours though. He goes outside to smoke. Jack’s unhappy that’s stuck, but it only takes a reminder of why he picked up the habit again to get Jack to quiet. And to kiss him, forcing him to forget the cigarette anyways. 

Jack doesn’t join him outside tonight though, enraptured in an aggressive debate with Rhys, Mickey and Rex. Instead, Martha slips out the sliding glass door to the balcony. 

She takes the spot by his side. “Needed a break?” She mumbles. 

“Loud, and I’m going to be so hungover tomorrow.” He lets his head slip past his shoulders to lean on the railing. The cool metal presses against his forehead. 

Martha rests a comforting hand on his shoulders. “I wanted to say congratulations- didn’t get a chance earlier.”

Ianto smiles, into his arms. He pulls himself up to look at her. “Thanks.”

Martha’s smile is watery, and she moves her mouth like she’s got more to say. “I can’t believe you did that for Jack.” She wrings her hands together. “I got the full story, how things went down from Gwen.”

Martha’s a good friend, but god does he hate she gets everyone to spill their guts to her. Some trick she must have picked up as a doctor, though Owen certainly didn’t have it. 

He’s been trying to keep himself from that train of thought tonight, but it all washes over him at once who, exactly, is missing from the party. He can feel Tosh and Owen’s absence like a sore; loud and blistering tonight. 

“It- it was just the mission.” He deflects. “Saving the world, all in a day's work.” 

Martha purses her lips, leveling her gaze. “I’ll have you know, Ianto, I would have done the same for somebody I loved.”

He gets the distinct feeling this person isn’t Mickey. She may love him to death, found something akin to normalcy with him; but there's always going to be the wedge of the man that drew them together. 

“So, from one idiot to another, I’m here if you need anything.” 

Ianto smiles, and takes a drag. He lets silence settle over them for a moment. “Tosh told me the same thing when I first started shagging Jack.” 

“About shagging a man from the 40s, or being in love with a dickhead?” Martha laughs, though the humor isn’t in it. She leans her elbows the opposite way against the railing, so she’s looking into the party. “I’m sure you’re all missing her right now.” 

He hums, biting the inside of his cheek. “This whole year.” He sighs. “I kept thinking, ‘If Owen were here, if Tosh were here’ but-” 

Martha watches him carefully, as he takes a drag. “I think they’d be proud.”

Ianto’s not crying again today, so he presses his hands to his eyes. Today isn’t for crying- todays for celebrating. Tosh would be so happy if she were here, and he’s going to be happy for her. Owen would be getting obscenely drunk, so he’s going to do that too. 

He chuckles. “I keep wondering if Tosh would have gotten over Owen, or if they’d still be idiots.”

“Still idiots, I’d bet.”

Ianto chuckles, turning around to look back into the party. Jack’s talking animatedly inside, beaming. “I guess, if Jack and I could make it work, Tosh and Owen could’ve.” 

“You and Jack were fated-” Martha shoves him lightly. “You weren’t there to hear how much he talked about you, when we first met. Couldn’t get him to shut up.” She notes, grinning. “His ‘ beautiful Welsh boyfriend’ - the Doctor couldn’t stand it.”

He’s known that, able to piece it together after Jack’s horrific attempt to ask him out. But hearing it still lights a spark in his chest, his cheeks turning red. 

“All embarrassing, I presume.” 

“Of course, it’s Jack.” 

Martha waves when she brushes past him, and Ianto squeezes in next to Rex, trapping him from the rest of the party and into a conversation. 

“So, you and Esther?”

He chokes on his drink.

“Man,” Rex knocks on his chest, turning Ianto’s way. “Shut up.”

“I’ll just put it out there, if you-“

“Yeah, yeah fuck off. Gwen’s already given me the speech.” He waves, downing the rest of his glass. “You’re all some kinda relationship freaks. Esther’s a grown woman.” 

Ianto scoffs. “I’m not worried about her, I’m worried about you.” He grins. “Trailing around like a lost puppy all night.”

Rex stares at his shoes, sputtering for a comeback. 

“She just might pull you out of the CIA, I really think so.”

“Really regretting getting you champagne.” Rex laughs. “Congrats on your happy relationship now, fuck off about mine.” 

“It is happy, then?” Ianto smirks, leaning into Rex. “I’m glad to hear it.” 

Rex groans, tilting his head up to the ceiling. “I’m getting another drink.” 

Jack steals Rex’s spot, sliding up against Ianto’s side. “Hello handsome,” he says, winding a hand up into Ianto’s tie. 

“Having fun?” He shoulder checks him, knocking his glass. Jack sets his drink down, snaking an arm around his waist. 

“Mmh I can think of some things that would be more fun.” He crowds in, nipping at Ianto’s neck. “Like: bedroom, or, balcony. If you’re feeling adventurous.”

“We’d be charged with indecent exposure.” He chuckles, winding their hands together. Jack rolls his eyes.

“You’re no fun.”

Ianto kisses him tenderly, before biting his lip in retaliation. Jack stifles a groan, and Ianto pulls away before he does get roped into sneaking off to their bedroom.  

“I was wondering,” Jack smiles, something private and saccharine. “Mr. Jones-Harkness? Harkness-Jones?” 

Ianto’s heart flutters, resting his hands on Jack’s hips. “I like the sound of Harkness-Jones.” 

“Me too, sounds cooler.” 

“Please get a room!” Rex shouts, from across the room. Gwen and Esther laugh, shoving him. “Don’t encourage them!” 

Jack rolls his eyes, taking Ianto’s hand in his. “We won’t be missed, twenty minuets tops.” 

“Thirty.” Ianto squeezes his hand, giving in, and letting Jack pull him down the hallway.

By the end of the night, well into the wee hours of the morning. Most of the party is finding places to shut their eyes on the couch, or in Gwen and Rhy’s case- the back of her mum’s car. Rex and Esther are cuddled up on the couch, and Martha’s knocked out sitting up in her chair.

Only Jack and Mickey are left awake, though Ianto is making a valiant effort to rouse himself. Jack isn’t helping, rubbing circles into his back where he sits at the kitchen counter. 

“Go to bed, I’ll meet you there in a bit.” Jack urges, leaning down to whisper. 

“Mhm, no.” Ianto slurs, head spinning. “I’ll help, just give me five minutes.”

Jack chuckles, kissing his temple. “Kay, five minutes.” 

Ianto puts his head back down on the table, and hears Mickey stumble in with wine and shot glasses clinking. Jack thanks him, but just rinses them out in the sink rather than washing them like he’s supposed too. Married life, he guesses. Bound to have more of those mundane spats. Not tonight. 

“You know, you really were the last person I thought we’d see settling down.” Mickey quips, sotto voce. 

“I’ve been married before, Mickey.”

“Oh you’re such a heartbreaker, huh?”

Mickey scoffs, heaving a great sigh. “I was warming up to say I was happy for you.”

Jack chuckles. “Thanks, Mickey Mouse.”

Mickey groans. "I know you couldn't tell me what Mickey even sounds like, Captain Cheesecake."

"I met Walt Disney when he was creating him!"

"Can you?"

Jack's silence speaks for himself. "The stuff I'm nostalgic for doesn't come out for another 3 centuries, get off my back."

"Oh, yeah just blame the time travel." Mickey laughs, knocking shoulders with Jack. “How often do you use that one with Ianto?”

“Ianto won’t let me get away with anything.” He groans, but there's no bite to it. 

Mickey chuckles, and the two of them let the quiet of the night wash over them. From where he’s resting, Ianto can hear Rex snoring in the other room. 

Jack knocks some glasses together, turning on the tap. 

“It's weird, ya’know.” Jack sighs, sounding wistful. Far too wistful for tonight. “I’ve known so many brilliant people, sometimes I just wish- I wish I could introduce them. I just know -“

Mickey hums, sympathetically. “I think Rose would like him too.” He says, knowingly. 

“I just wish I could bring them together, you know? Have my whole family in one place."

"Yeah, yeah. I know what you mean."

He hears Jack pour them another shot, glasses clinking. They both down it quickly.

"I'm sure Martha misses it?" Jack mumbles.

Mickey hums, something bittersweet in his voice. "Nah, you know. Her family's here."

"Are you saying she's moved on from him?" Jack jokes. 

"I'm saying he's not part of her family, anymore."

Jack shifts, awkwardly. "It's gotta be difficult for him."

Mickey barks a laugh. "Sure, doesn't mean he didn't barge into our lives and leave us high and dry."

Jack doesn't say anything else.

"Don't you ever think, if he really did care, he'd have done the right thing? All he did was save himself the heartbreak." Mickey pushes. "He doesn't care if that ruins the rest of our lives."

Ianto raises his head, catching Jack’s eyes for just a second. His are watery, though hidden from Mickey's gaze. He knows what Jack must be thinking. He may have been like the Doctor- even wanted to be like the Doctor at times; but always falling short. Maybe that's for the better, though. Jack learned how to stay- the Doctor never has. Ianto pushes himself up out of the chair, taking Jack’s hand. He leans his head on Jack’s shoulder. 

"You're right." Jack whispers, toward Mickey. "I wouldn't have let any of you go."

And, throughout the decades; despite what Ianto thought he knew- that Jack would leave, someday. He never does.