Interrogation

[sam_storyteller]

Title: Interrogation
Rating: Light R
Summary: After Jack returns and John Hart departs, Ianto and Owen both get to confront Jack about his immortality in their own way. (Jack/Ianto)
Notes: Something that occurred to me recently was that none of the Torchwood agents except Gwen really had the opportunity to process Jack's immortality when they found out about it, and they would naturally have questions when he returned. Thanks to mcgonagalls_cat for betaz!
Warnings: None.

Originally posted 2.15.09

Also available at AO3.

***

The first word Owen said to Ianto after John Hart didn't blow up but did walk through an open rift was: "Dibs."

Ianto, who was following Jack to...well, to wherever Jack was going...turned his head but kept walking. "Sorry?"

"Dibs. On the Captain," Owen whispered.

Ianto half-smiled. "I'm sure he'll be thrilled."

"Funny. We have six hours of time-loop to take advantage of. Before Gwen drags him off again or Tosh catches another Rift spike or you distract him with coffee, I want half an hour with him."

"What are you going to do, kill him?"

"No. And also you have to help me."

Jack had stopped on a corner outside the parking garage, as if he were trying to figure out where to go next.

"Why?" Ianto asked.

"Okay!" Jack said, rubbing his hands together. Owen, who had been about to speak, snapped his mouth shut. Jack continued, oblivious. "We can't go back to the Hub. We have to clear out of here pretty fast. Who's got a spare secret headquarters on offer?"

"Can't go home," Gwen said. "Rhys is there. If I go home, he won't phone me, and..." she made a looping gesture with one hand.

"Mine's a bit close to the Hub for comfort," Tosh said. "And we went past it on the way to the bar. Risky for another hour or so."

"Don't look at me," Owen said. "I left a girl at mine when I went out on the call."

Jack gave him a momentary good for you look, then glanced at Ianto.

"I...was...at the Hub," Ianto said slowly. "All night. Well, or, out and about. Mine is a safe bet, so long as we're quiet and don't answer the phone."

"Good! Sleepover at Ianto's. Sweeter words, never spoken, all that jazz," Jack said, turning back to the street. Then he hesitated. After a few seconds of awkward waiting it became evident that Jack did not, in fact, remember how to get to Ianto's flat.

"It's not very far," Ianto said finally. "And we probably shouldn't use a cab."

"Lead on," Jack made a grand after you gesture. Ianto gave Gwen and Tosh a reassuring look and turned left. Jack, looking slightly relieved, followed. Owen darted around Jack and caught up with Ianto.

"What are you doing?" Ianto asked in a low whisper. Gwen and Tosh were talking with Jack, behind them, something about a welcome-back party. Jack was no doubt making remarks about clothing being optional.

"Okay," Owen said. "Think back. Jack bolted and the next day the PM-to-be sent us off to Tibet. What was the first thing we did after we got back from the Himalayas?"

"Went to a pub and got drunk," Ianto said promptly.

"Fine, the second thing."

Ianto looked thoughtful. "Got shouted at by Gwen for coming in with hangovers?"

"Between those two." Owen waited until it was obvious Ianto didn't get it. "We talked about Jack. Remember? You were going to punch him and I was going to tie him down and run tests on him. Which you didn't, by the way."

"Neither did you." Ianto frowned. "Also, I was dru...oh. Oh."

"Yeah. Help me get Gwen and Tosh out of the way for half an hour and you can have him for the rest of the night. All the punching you want. I'll help tie him down if you like."

"Not usually necessary, thank you," Ianto said absently. "You might wait a day or two to start playing Mengele with him."

"I just want to ask him some questions."

"Yes, he's so good at answering those," Ianto drawled.

"I can make him," Owen said grimly.

"You can't, but it'd be fun to watch you try. Why me, though? Gwen would be more help."

"You are a daft moron," Owen said. "You have to help me because you're the one he wants to get alone."

"Ianto," Jack said, catching up with them and slinging an arm equally around Owen and Ianto's shoulders, interrupting them before Ianto could react or reply. "You look like you're plotting something. Stop corrupting Owen, he's too good for this world."

Owen raised his eyebrows at Ianto across Jack's shoulders. Ianto nodded.

"I've often said he should find some other world to inhabit," he remarked, as they slowed to a halt. Gwen and Tosh came up behind them, hesitating on the edge of Ianto's vision.

"You seem like you're getting along okay," Jack observed.

"Conditional ceasefire," Owen said.

"Conditional on what?" Jack asked.

"You being gone," Ianto said. Jack flinched. "Now we'll have to renegotiate. By the way, unless you let go of me, I can't get my keys out. We're here."

Jack reluctantly released them and stepped back, shoving his hands in his pockets. Ianto unlocked the front door, held it for them as they entered, pushed past them in the foyer, and led the way up a flight of stairs to his flat.

It seemed tiny with five people in it, but at the same time having someone else in his flat pointed up how little he himself was there, and how perhaps he ought to really have a proper try at furnishing it one of these days. Owen studied the battered sofa while Gwen drifted to the window in the living room and Tosh perched on a chair at the small dining table, which was currently doubling as a workspace and bookshelf.

"Coffee," Ianto decided. "Gwen, can you help?"

"Of course, love," Gwen replied, turning and joining him in the kitchen. He moved quickly but subtly, so that he was blocking the door and she was on the inside.

"I think there's some biscuits too." He pointed to a high cupboard -- then, out of the corner of his eye, caught Owen bending to speak to Tosh, pressing something into her hand. Tosh looked annoyed, but a few minutes later the front door opened and closed as she left.

"Your kitchen's not very well-stocked," Gwen remarked. Ianto was busy measuring beans into the grinder and watching Owen and Jack talk quietly at the window.

"No," he said absently. "I was going to get groceries tomorrow."

"That's a lie," Gwen said cheerfully. "You're just never here."

"It's my secret method for success," Ianto confided to her. "I plan to make my millions by only eating on Torchwood's tab."

"What I mean is, that'll stop now that Jack's back, won't it?" she said. He stepped backwards and opened the fridge door to pass her the cream, just in time to block her from leaving the kitchen.

"Coffee cups in the cupboard," he said. Gwen nodded and went to get them. "Why would you say that?"

"What?"

"That I won't be at the Hub as much now that Jack's back."

"Well, one more person to take a shift. And you don't have to haunt the place waiting for him anymore."

"I wasn't haunting anywhere," Ianto said, annoyed. Gwen patted his arm. "I wasn't."

"Well, then, now that he's back he'll make you go home more often."

He couldn't see much more than body-language, from here. Jack looked stiff and awkward, Owen leaning into him with his usual on-the-case slouchy fascination.

"So," Gwen continued. "If we all stay here tonight, who's sleeping where? I don't think we should let Jack have the bed, he doesn't deserve it."

"Once you know Rhys has called you, you can go home, can't you?" Ianto asked. "That'll be nice for you. And Tosh'll be able to go home as soon as she knows we're not in the area anymore. The other us, I mean."

"All-boys sleepover?" Gwen raised her eyebrows.

"Stay if you want, it's no concern of mine what Rhys thinks," Ianto answered evenly.

"Mm. Point."

"Besides, Owen's girl is probably going to get tired of waiting for him. I'll send him off when you go."

"Still leaves the question of who gets the bed," Gwen said, but something in her tone made him glance at her as she watched the coffee percolate. She gave him a smug grin.

"As you say, perhaps Jack ought to be relegated to the couch," he answered smoothly.

"Coffee's almost ready," she prompted.

"Looks like Owen's having words with Jack," Ianto said, making a final gamble. "Best have a cup in here first."

"Why's Owen get first crack at him?" Gwen asked.

"Because you'll spend all tomorrow debriefing him on everything that's gone on, and because this is much better coffee than Owen deserves," Ianto said. He poured her a cup, added sugar, and offered it to her. She looked at him over the edge of it, measuring him in that disconcerting way she'd developed since taking over in Jack's absence, and sipped.

"You make it really hard to be angry at you," she said.

"It's the face." He pointed to his face. "Butter wouldn't melt in my mouth, you know."

Gwen grinned at him. "I thought it was the narcotics you were slipping into the coffee."

"Oh, well. A little chemical joy never did any harm."

"Honestly though, what do you think they're saying?" Gwen asked, peering past him. Ianto gave them a cursory glance. Looked like Owen was getting frustrated.

"I reckon Owen wants to find out what makes Jack tick. Well -- what makes him stop ticking and then start again."

"I keep forgetting none of you knew," Gwen remarked. "You won't get any answers out of him about that. I tried."

"I don't care," Ianto shrugged. "Owen does, though."

There was a buzzing noise in the living room. both Owen and Jack jumped, Jack's hand automatically going to the weapon at his hip. Ianto set his coffee cup down and walked to the front door, pressing the TALK and DOOR buttons simultaneously.

"It's open, Tosh," he called into the intercom, without bothering to push LISTEN to hear if it was her. Soon after, the front door opened and Tosh reappeared with a large brown paper bag.

"Owen bought us Chinese," she said, setting it on the table and opening the stapled-shut top of the bag. Ianto gently maneuvered her out of the way, into one of the dining-table chairs, and began passing around the food. Gwen sat in the other chair, Owen in a rickety wing-chair near the window, and Jack snatched a carton of fried rice with an almost religious expression on his face before sprawling on the sofa.

"We had a deal," Ianto said softly, handing a styrofoam bowl of spicy soup to Owen.

"Working on it," Owen muttered back. "Food first."

"So," Jack said, shoveling the rice into his mouth with characteristic enthusiasm, "in all the confusion, I didn't ask, but just how busted am I?"

It was almost comical how everyone looked at him at once. Even Owen stopped with a piece of chicken halfway to his mouth.

"Very," Ianto said, because someone had to say something. Jack gave him a curious look. "We're considering demoting you."

"Oh yeah?"

"You're probably going to have to depend on how much we missed you to prevent us from remembering how annoyed we are at you," Tosh put in.

"You let them get pretty noisy while I was gone," Jack said to Gwen. "I approve."

It was all very amusing and friendly, but there was an undercurrent of real resentment, too. Ianto knew that Jack was navigating difficult waters. Not that he deserved anything less; as it was they were going to let him back in with far less effort than most people would demand.

"I'd like to make a suggestion," he said. Everyone looked at him. "I'd like to suggest that we suspend this discussion."

"Until?" Jack asked.

"Uh...the end of time?"

"Which discussion exactly are we suspending?" Jack asked.

"Whether you're fit to command, where you went, what you did, what we did," Ianto said, ticking off each point on his fingers.

"It's the glad-to-see-you-again thing," Tosh added. Ianto loved Tosh. She always took the hint and usually could be counted on to get his back on a moment's notice. "And it's not funny, not really."

"Ianto's trying to say you should stop being charming because you're afraid we hate you," Owen said.

"Because we don't hate you," Gwen put in.

"Speak for yourself," Tosh replied. "But we won't let it get in the way of liking you."

Jack blinked at them.

"You can't have it back the way it was," he said slowly. "Things have changed. You've changed. I know I have."

"Yeah, but do we have to talk about it?" Owen asked.

Jack glanced at each of them in turn. "Motion seconded?"

Tosh raised her hand.

"All in favour?"

Everyone but Gwen put their hands up. Gwen sighed and raised hers, too.

"Motion carried. I won't be charming, you'll pretend you're not angry at me, and we won't talk about it. Well, see? We're working as a team again already," Jack said.

"Talking of," Owen set his empty soup cup on the table, "I need a ride home eventually. Tosh, you safe to go back yet?"

Tosh checked her watch. "Should be. Walk me back to mine, I'll give you a ride."

Ianto sometimes loathed, just a little bit, how much advantage Owen took of Tosh's good nature and affection for him. On the other hand, Owen had promised, and while Ianto wasn't sure what he'd do with that much time alone with Jack, he knew in an unconscious sort of way that he definitely wanted it.

"Gwen?" Jack asked. "Rhys call you yet?"

Gwen took out her mobile and switched it on. "Looks it, yeah. About fifteen minutes ago. I'm not far, I'll walk."

"Keep to side streets," Jack advised, helping Tosh on with her coat. She turned and gave his hand a squeeze. Jack grinned. "Stay safe out there. Take the night, get some rest."

"You're not going anywhere," Owen said, zipping his jacket. It was half a question, and oddly insecure coming from Owen.

"Nope. See you tomorrow morning," Jack said. Owen and Tosh were already out the door; Gwen stopped, gave Jack a searching, soulful look, and then followed.

When the door had closed, Jack sat down on the couch again, picking through the other boxes of food strewn around the coffee table. Ianto began clearing away the empty containers and the half-full coffee cups. He was just reaching across his dining table to pick up Tosh's when he felt Jack's hand on his arm.

"Let me help," Jack said. "You have your hands full."

Ianto lifted an eyebrow, but let Jack clear up the dining table and followed him into the kitchen. He poured out the coffee, set the cups in the sink, threw the cartons away, and found Jack blocking the exit to the kitchen not unlike he himself had been doing to Gwen earlier.

"The little runaround you and Owen just pulled," Jack said, leaning against the door-frame. "That was subtle. You two seem close."

"We've had to be," Ianto reminded him.

"What was the deal? What do you get in return for the half-hour alone he got with me?"

Ianto shrugged. "The rest of the evening."

Jack looked startled, as if that were the last thing he'd been expecting. The look lasted slightly too long before a slow, familiar smile spread across his face.

"Why, Ianto Jones," he said, pushing away from the wall and coming forward, stopping well into Ianto's personal space. "Why would you want that?"

Ianto didn't answer; he was trying to breathe and keep his head clear.

"And what are you going to do with me now that you have me?" Jack continued. Ianto swallowed.

"I have questions too," he said. Jack froze even as he was swaying forward. His nose brushed Ianto's cheek.

"I should have expected that," he said, breath warm on Ianto's skin. He leaned back. "I thought we agreed not to talk about where I was. You suggested it."

"That was a favour to you. I don't need to know where you were. That's not what I want to ask about."

Jack tilted his head. "Oh?"

Ianto nodded. He reached up and straightened Jack's collar slightly, smoothing one of his coat-lapels. He leaned in close, whispered in Jack's ear.

"You can't die," he said. Jack stiffened. "Or, I suppose -- you can't stay dead."

"It's not as great as it sounds."

"It sounds horrifying," Ianto agreed, and felt Jack relax a fraction, shoulder easing under his hand. "But I have questions."

Jack leaned into him slightly.

"Make you a deal," he said to Ianto.

"Seems to be my night for those."

"Take me to bed and I'll tell you what you want to know."

Ianto leaned back and gave him a skeptical look. "You never tell anyone anything."

"Take me to bed," Jack repeated, "And I'll tell you what you want to know. Where I was -- it gave me a new view on the trust I don't place in people. So. Take me to bed. I trust you to ask the right questions, and not to ask the wrong ones. I'll answer you."

Ianto slid his hand down Jack's arm, twined their fingers together.

"Done deal," he said. It occurred to him that he was selling himself for Jack's secrets, but he ignored the thought. After all, he'd done worse before. It wasn't like he didn't want this, and Jack apparently needed it. And it was a good excuse for both of them. He could have Jack and still be angry with him; Jack could talk to someone about his life without having to pretend he didn't want to, having to pretend he couldn't.

Ianto wondered, as he took Jack's coat and hung it on a hook in the living room, if he was ever likely to have a normal relationship again.

Probably not.

Jack was sitting on the bed when he walked into the bedroom, working at his boot laces, braces off his shoulders. Ianto pushed him back gently, then knelt to take the boots off.

"Optional question," he said slowly.

"Okay," Jack said.

"Wherever you went -- taught you to trust me more?"

"Yes," Jack said, one hand stroking Ianto's hair as he lifted his other foot to strip off his boot and sock.

"Why?"

Jack's hand kept moving, gentle -- but with an almost tangible desperation.

"I saw...things that test who a person is, things that teach you who you are. I know how far I can trust you to stand on my side," Jack said.

"How far is that?"

"Pretty goddamn far, Ianto. Come here."

Ianto stood, expecting Jack to stand as well, but instead he just slid back on the bed and looked up at him. Ianto could take an invitation when given -- he straddled his thighs, let Jack cup his face and kiss him, run his fingers through his hair again.

"It's been a long time," Jack said. "Long time since I could touch anyone like this."

Ianto began to ask how long, but stopped; Jack was trusting him not to ask questions that couldn't be answered. Instead, he bit Jack's lip gently and pressed forward to rest his hands on the bed, forcing Jack to lean back on his elbows.

"Has it always been this way?" he asked Jack, tilting his head. "Were you born this way?"

"No," Jack replied, kissing him quickly.

"When did you find out?"

Jack's eyes clouded. "A long time ago."

Ianto frowned, wondering...

"How old were you?" he asked.

"Thirty-five, I think. I was jumping in time a little, I'd lost track."

Ianto blinked. "Can't have been too long then, can it? How old are you now?"

Jack's face went...smooth, unyielding, unemotional. "A hundred and seventy. Give or take a decade."

It felt like a kick in the chest. A hundred and seventy years old. It had been strange enough to be ten years younger than a lover, which had been a guess at best.

Jack was seven times his age.

Jack was also staring at him, looking worried and almost fearful. Ianto dipped his head, nuzzled at Jack's collar, reached up with one hand to unbutton his shirt. Jack let him, tilting his head back and sighing softly.

"How much of that in Cardiff?" Ianto asked, kissing the underside of his jaw.

"About a hundred, maybe a little more." Jack reached up, balancing on one elbow, and tugged on Ianto's tie. "I can't tell you much about where I was before then. Timelines."

"Fair enough." Ianto leaned back, let Jack sit up and work the tie loose, unbutton his shirt. "Do you remember what happens when you're dead?"

"Not in this world," Jack said fiercely, shoving Ianto's shirt off his shoulders. When they kissed he bit Ianto's lips.

"What do you remember?" Ianto asked, struggling a little as Jack held him in place, wondering if he'd be bruised tomorrow.

"Darkness," Jack hissed. "And then light -- like being strafed. With fire."

"I'm sorry," Ianto mumbled against Jack's forehead, lifting up so that Jack could slide his trousers down.

"Doesn't matter," Jack said. He ran a hand down Ianto's chest, appreciative, almost covetous.

"Doesn't matter that it hurts?" Ianto asked. "Or doesn't matter that I'm sorry?"

Jack pushed him just enough to slide him off the edge of the bed. He kicked his clothing away, tugged on Jack's trousers to get them off as well.

"Either," Jack said, looking up at the ceiling. "I don't want pity."

"Who said that was pity?" Ianto replied, dropping to his knees. Jack caught one hand under his jaw and lifted it, shaking his head.

"You can't ask questions if you're doing that," he said, a half-smile on his face. "But that's really your choice."

Ianto smiled and let Jack guide him up onto the bed again, sitting lightly over him.

"What do you want?" he asked.

Jack lifted an eyebrow. "In general, or here in bed?"

"Either," Ianto echoed his words, down to the inflection. Jack laughed a little, but it didn't sound very honest.

"I want..." Jack rolled, pushing him down on his back. He looked suddenly possessive, and the desperation that had been shuttered away before was now there in full force. "I want something fast."

Ianto grinned. "In general or in bed?"

"In bed," Jack said. He leaned forward and Ianto wrapped his arms around his shoulders for leverage, arching in time with the rhythm Jack was setting. Skin against skin, messy but fast, which he could appreciate -- however long it had been for Jack, for Ianto it had been as long as Jack was gone, and he had no problems with fast. God, Jack smelled good, felt good, his hands...

"Were you born then?" Ianto asked, as Jack's hips bucked down against his.

"Born then?" Jack seemed confused.

"The past -- what, eighteen...hundred something..."

Jack chuckled. "Math's failing you?"

"Were you?"

"No," Jack answered, breath coming short and fast. "I told you when I'm from."

"What?" Ianto asked, momentarily distracted. Jack wasn't; he kept moving, kissing a line down Ianto's jaw, biting his earlobe.

"I told you -- when I'm from," he repeated. "The third time we met."

Ianto let his head fall back, considered it. The only time Jack had ever mentioned anything like that, back then, was --

"Fuck," he said. "I thought you were joking! Or -- or wearing some kind of -- " he moaned. "Fifty-first century pheremones..."

"You have no idea," Jack growled, amused, and bit his shoulder hard. The spike of pain made him twitch and struggle against the heavy weight on top of him, but Jack kept him steady, kept him grounded.

"Coming back," Ianto managed. "Does it make you -- feel -- alive?"

"No," Jack replied. A bead of sweat rolled down his temple. Ianto licked his skin -- oddly sweet, like the scent of Jack when one got too close. Apple-sweet.

"What do you want, Jack?" he asked again, around a gasp.

"Ianto," Jack murmured.

"What do you -- god -- what do you want?"

Jack pressed his forehead to Ianto's shoulder. "I wanted -- wanted to be -- fixed -- I wanted to be normal -- "

"What do you want?"

"I don't know," Jack moaned. He was shaking -- sobbing or aroused, difficult to tell with his face hard against Ianto's neck, hidden there. "I don't -- "

He stiffened, a half-suppressed yelp hoarse in his throat, and Ianto's own orgasm took him just as much by surprise a second later. He clenched a hand in Jack's hair, waited for him to relax -- the soft slump of muscle, the sprawl of Jack's body over his. Not unfamiliar, nor truth be told unwelcome.

Instead, Jack kept shaking. Clinging to him, shaking, short harsh breaths that would drive him over into hyperventilation soon. Ianto pulled his head up and kissed him, forced him to breathe through his nose -- deep, calming. When the kiss broke, Jack ducked his head and thudded it against Ianto's chest.

"I waited here for him for a hundred years," he said finally. "I waited for him to come back and fix me."

Ianto's heart broke for him, just a little, as angry as he was that Jack had abandoned them. He knew what it was like to hope for help, to hope that someone would fix what was broken even when you knew, really, that nothing could.

"He said he couldn't fix me at all. He said I shouldn't exist. And I don't know what to do now."

"Well," Ianto said thoughtfully, after a minute, "A glass of water and a washcloth would be nice."

Jack lifted his head, confused.

"Get off," Ianto said gently, as if speaking to a child. "I'll bring you some water."

Jack nodded, wiped his face and rolled to one side. One of Jack's hands traced his skin, ribcage-hip-thigh, as Ianto got off the bed and walked to the bathroom. The water seemed strangely loud as it ran into the glass.

When he returned, Jack sat up and took the glass, let Ianto wipe the sweat from his shoulders and -- well, other things -- from his body, before lying down again. Ianto sat on the edge of the bed, wondering what he should do. Material needs were really more his thing.

Jack cleared his throat hesitantly. "Thank you."

"We made a deal. I haven't any complaints."

That got him a slight smile. "I know. But..."

Ianto raised an eyebrow, turning just enough for his face to be visible.

"I didn't mean to do this," Jack said. "Not like this. I know you're angry I left. I would be too. I get that. I'm going to fix it. I am," he said, as if convincing himself. "I'm going to set things right with everyone."

"Tosh will have questions too. Owen will probably have more," Ianto said, as Jack tugged a corner of the blanket up over his body. "Gwen will no doubt press you on where you've been."

"Already has."

Ianto snorted. Jack grinned.

"Was she a good leader?" he asked.

"She wasn't you." Ianto plucked at the blanket. "There's no point comparing."

"Ianto."

He glanced back at Jack.

"Whatever...this was, tonight, it wasn't what it should be," Jack said cautiously. "It's not going to be this way. I don't want it to be. We can't go back, so we have to go forward. Works for us just like it works for the team. Do you understand?"

"Depends on what going forward means," Ianto said.

"Well, it means me buying you dinner at some point. Taking you to a movie...not fucking it up."

"Can I ask one more question?" Ianto said. Jack looked wary. "Optional answer."

"Go ahead."

"Do you want to die?"

Jack flinched as if he'd slapped him. Ianto kept his eyes on Jack's.

"Nobody who's seen death wants to die," Jack said quietly. "I want to be able to grow old. Make a life with someone. Stop...living through the centuries, watching everyone around me disappear. I don't want to be the only one anymore. And you can't help that, and he can't fix that, so it doesn't really matter."

"Jack -- "

"But I don't want to die. Not right now. Not yet."

Ianto nodded. Jack rested his head against one of the pillows, eyes closing. Ianto slid down onto the bed next to him, studying his still face. He was almost sure Jack was asleep, miracle in itself, when he spoke again.

"I watched you die," Jack said. "Where I was. Where I went. I had to watch you die. They brought you in and told you, kill him or kill yourself. You knew I wouldn't stay dead, you knew it wouldn't matter, but you still put the gun to your own head and pulled the trigger. And I thought, why would you do that?"

Ianto considered this information, feeling more detached than he probably should. "They sound like bastards. I probably knew I was going to die anyway."

"Yeah. That's what I thought after a while. You smiled when you did it. I just think..." Jack sighed. "I think you were showing them that they couldn't control you. I think you were being...yourself."

"Sounds like me," Ianto agreed. "Welcome home, Jack."

"I'm so glad none of you are dead anymore," Jack said, words slurring a little as he dropped into sleep.

Ianto lay awake for a long time, watching.

END