Jack sat down at his cluttered desk next to the Underground tracks, and started flipping through papers, most of them charts on rift activity. The coffee mug in the corner of the desk spilled, all over the papers he was trying to file. Jack didn't care. He was having what he called 'Ianto trouble' again. Ianto was jealous of Gwen even though Jack had told him, on many occasions, that there was nothing going on between them. She was married, after all. But no matter how many times Jack said that, no matter how persistent he was, Ianto refused to believe him. It didn't help any that his job definition was chauffeur/maid. That always added to any tension between them. He shook his head, a slight pain shooting through his heart. Which was, of course, from the dryness of the papers he was filing, not because of the situation with him and his coworker.
Just then, he was jolted out of his unpleasant thoughts by a faint whoosh, whoosh sound, getting louder by the second. Could it be? Jack thought. He hasn't come for years... no. It can't be.
As if to prove Jack's nagging thought, a blue police box slowly materialized in front of him. He, however, knew the real story of this box.
He walked toward the box, and stood there.
He was starting to worry. Normally, when the TARDIS landed, the Doctor came striding out to greet whoever was outside.
Now, however, no sound could be heard but the machine's faint hum. He fumbled around in his pocket for the key that the Doctor had given him sometime earlier. He found it, took it out and unlocked the door.
He pushed it open, and was greeted by a frightening surprise. The Doctor, normally having a fun twinkle in his eye, was laying unconscious on the TARDIS's grated floor.
He walked closer, and saw that an aspirin bottle was laying open on the floor, one of the obvious culprits. Why would the Doctor have this anywhere? Maybe for his companions?
Aspirin was poisonous to a Time Lord. The Doctor himself had told Jack that.
Jack picked up the Doctor and carried him with both arms, it being easy since, though shorter, Jack was the larger man of the two.
When he got to the outer wall of the TARDIS, he shifted the Doctor's weight onto his shoulder.
He then stroked the TARDIS, as he had seen the Doctor do many times before.
The TARDIS was alive, so it could hear him and communicate. Though it hated him, usually. Last time they'd met, she'd tried to shake him off, in the middle of the time vortex, no less. He hoped she would be a little bit more cooperative this time.
''Why'd you bring him here, old girl?'' he asked, still stroking the exterior wall.
Gwen suddenly rushed into the room. She opened her mouth, but before she could even utter a word, Jack said to her, ''Gwen! Get out of the way! I need to get him to the medi-room!''
Gwen moved out of the doorway and asked, ''Yes, Jack! But... Jack! Who is this man?''
''Just an old friend,'' said Jack, opening the door to the sick bay. ''A very old friend,'' said Jack, giving forth a dry laugh.
None of the three beds had been used in a long time, so they were all clean and ready. That, at least, was something for which Jack was thankful. He laid the Doctor down on the bed, and pulled over a chair from the table in the corner of the room.
Jack saw Gwen staring at him, so he turned to her, shaking his head.
"Jack. Please. Who is he? Why is he like this?"
Jack smiled sadly, then replied. "He's... a friend of mine. And," he sighed, "as for his condition? I know as much as you do." He paused for a second, then spoke again. "But, Gwen. You don't need to stay here. Really."
She looked at him quizically, then smiled. "If you're sure, Jack. If you're sure." She turned to walk out, looking deep in thought as she did.
Now that he was alone, he looked at his friend, questioningly, wondering what had happened. He saw beads of sweat forming on the Doctor's forehead, so Jack took off the Doctor's brown, pinstriped coat, and laid it over the back of the chair that he had dragged over.
When he did, he saw that the Doctor's shirt was heavily stained with blood. Removing the jacket didn't seem to help any with his temperature, so he unbuttoned the Doctor's blue shirt.
What he saw surprised him.
There were three large gashes, spanning the whole width of the Doctor's chest.
Jack wondered aloud, ''How could this have happened to him? Who could have done this?'' Jack had no idea about what had happened to the man before him, but a strong pain coursed through his heart at seeing his friend, one of the only people he truly loved, in such a fragile state.
His friend, normally looking so happy and full of life, was now lifeless and frail. Jack had never seen him like this before. The Doctor was a hard person to get to know, you never knew how he was really feeling. He was always so... cryptic. Jack guessed he himself could be like that, as well. Maybe the captain had learned that from him, after giving up his life as a con man.
Jack sat down in the chair, for the first time since he had dragged it over. He thought of all the adventures he and the Doctor had had together; the Battle of Canary Wharf, meeting the Master... and that was only just a sampling of their times together! He was so engrossed in his thoughts, he didn't even notice how much time had passed, or Gwen's reappearance into the room.
He finally noticed that he and the Doctor weren't alone when Gwen said, ''Jack, you've been in here for hours! Who is he, and why is he this important to you?'' She came and sat down on the bed beside the Doctor's.
''Like I said,'' responded Jack, ''he's an old friend.'' Jack shifted in his seat to face Gwen, every so often stealing glances at the Doctor.
''Jack, you're not telling me who he is, at least not really. I know there's something more to this." Gwen sighed. "Who is he, Jack?''
''Why not just have a listen with that stethoscope thing up there,'' said Jack, turning around again to face his dear friend. "You'll find out soon enough."
Gwen walked around to the other side of the bed, across from Jack, with the Doctor between them, and took the stethoscope down from the shelf.
''Be prepared for a surprise,'' said Jack, though he knew Gwen couldn't understand yet, evidenced by the puzzled look on her face.
She put the two buds of the stethoscope into her ears, and listened to the man's heartbeat.
After a few passes of the instrument over the nearly motionless chest, she was sure of an irregularity. As the truth of what she was hearing sank in, a look of shock appeared on her face...
''He has two hearts! Two heartbeats!'' Gwen said, in shock. ''Weak, but it's clear that there are two! How can that be? Jack?''
"You've seen plenty weirder than this." Jack turned to face Gwen. ''It's hard to explain. This man, the Doctor, is his name, he isn't quite... human.''
''What do you mean, not human? Excepting the dual heartbeat, he is, essentially, human! And the double heartbeat, while it seemed true, may have even been a phantom, or a malfunction in the stethoscope!'' said Gwen, walking around Jack and settling down on the bed again.
''No. It's no mistake. Listen, Gwen, the Doctor, he... well... he sort of travels in time and space, saving our world and many others from alien destruction.'' No need to tell her how old he is, thought Jack. Gwen's paradigm was already shifting too rapidly for comfort.
For a while, no one spoke.
''Okay. So if I do believe you, which I do, then how do you think he declined to this condition? What happened?''
''I saw a bottle of aspirin next to him when I found him like this.''
''And...?'' asked Gwen. ''How is that even relevant?'' Her voice began to rise.
''Okay, a little background here. The Doctor is a Time Lord. Actually, he's the last surviving Time Lord. Aspirin is poisonous to them. Yeah, the last SURVIVING. For now. Let's hope it stays that way." Jack paused, to get himself back on track, glancing back down, then back to the ex-police officer in front of him. "Yeah. Anyway. Thankfully, he only took one. One could be detrimental to his health, but two... two could be deadly. Really fatal. He would be dead like that,'' said Jack, as he snapped his fingers. Unable to regenerate, Jack said to himself, but he kept quiet.
There was a long pause.
''Wow. Jack, I... I appreciate your devotion to your friend, but you've been in here for hours! Let me watch him for a while. You need a break. You have my word I will alert you if anything happens. My word.''
After a few minutes of thinking, Jack answered, ''Okay, Gwen. Just don't let him anywhere near the aspirin. Promise me that.''
''I promise,'' Gwen said, and, satisfied, Jack left the room.
Jack noticed that he had been so busy, and now, worried, that he hadn't eaten anything today. He went into the kitchen to make himself a sandwich. As if by fate, Ianto was in there as well, leaning against the counter. A mug was in the coffee maker.
Ianto was about to flirt with Jack, but when he saw his face, he decided against it. Just from Jack's expression, he could tell now was not the time.
When Jack walked in, he said, ''Jack. I walked past the infirmary, which I had suspected to be empty, but saw you with some man. Who is he? Why is he here?''
As Jack was getting down the bread from the shelf, he answered, ''He's... well... that's...it's complicated.
''I have enough time,'' said Ianto. ''And I can understand it, even if it is complicated." God, just because he cleaned up after their s***, made their coffee, and drove them around, didn't mean he was thick or stupid. "Jack, tell me who he is.''
Jack got the roast beef out of the refrigerator. ''Well... he's an old friend.''
Ianto sat down at the table with a cup of coffee, a strange look on his face. ''What kind of old friend? Why is he so important to you? Why is he more important to you than Gwen or... or me?''
''Well... this man, the Doctor, he travels... in space and time... and he saves our world, and many others from intergalactic destruction." He paused, waiting for Ianto to take this in, Then he continued.
"Remember Christmas, five years ago? Giant spaceship over London? He was there! Four years? Hospital got transported to the moon? He was also there!" He sighed and shook her head, having deep contemplative thoughts with his bread slices. "This planet would not be as good as it is if not for him.''
There was a long pause, during which Jack assembled his roast beef sandwich and sat down at the table across from Ianto. He guessed Ianto was trying to understand it all. It had taken him a while, too, when he was still a con man. Boy, was that a long time ago!
"So he's sort of... an intergalactic superhero?" said Ianto with a laugh.
"I guess you could say that," said Jack, without returning a shred of humour. Nothing but today's ever so common dry laugh.
There was a momentary silence, as if the two men were deep in thought.
''Wow,'' said Ianto. ''So, this man, the Doctor, he's a really, really good friend, huh?'' A shred of jealousy came through in Ianto's voice, like in all those conversations about Gwen.
''Oh, no, Ianto. Not like that. He's not that kind of a man.'' Despite the countless number of times I've tried, Jack added silently.
''Oh.'' It was one syllable, but it was loaded with Ianto's relief.
After another long pause, Ianto was the one who spoke again. ''So... what do you think happened to him? I mean... why is he like this?''
''I saw a bottle of aspirin next to him when I found him unconscious. That might have something to do with it.
''Aspirin?''
He explained again about the Doctor's condition, as well as his origins. This time, a stronger pang coursed through his bloodstream than the last time he'd explained. That pain held all his worry, his love, everything.
He left out certain details about the situation, so as not to make Ianto question him more than necessary. He, as well, was already starting to get too suspicious for Jack's liking.
''Oh,'' said Ianto again. ''Might you want to go check on him? If he's in that bad a condition, why did you even consider coming down here?''
''Gwen's watching him.'' said Jack, getting up out of his chair. ''But I probably should get back to the sick bay to check how they're doing. She needs a break.'' Staying with an unconscious alien, that's a lot to do, especially if you don't know the person. Not many people knew the Doctor, truly. Especially not like he did. He shook the thought out of his head, bringing himself back to the present.
''Okay,'' said Ianto. ''Update me on his condition. Okay, Jack?'' It was clear that Ianto said that, partially out of caring, but mostly as pure courtesy.
''Okay,'' said Jack, walking out of the room. ''I will.''
As Jack walked down the stairs and through the halls to the infirmary, he thought to himself, ''Why is he like this now? I've never seen him like this, for all the years that I've known him. Why is now any different? What could have happened recently that sent him into this horrible condition?''
''Is he remembering Rose?'' he questioned. ''No. In all this time, he's never been driven to this over her. So what could it have been? Even the whole ordeal with the Master hadn't reduced him to this condition.''
He reached the sick bay, and as he walked in, Gwen looked up from the Doctor.
''Hi, Jack. I'm sorry, he hasn't woken up, he hasn't even moved. He is still breathing, though, and his hearts," as she said this her face scruched up perplexedly, "are still beating. Faintly, but still, they're working.''
''Thank you, Gwen. I think I'll stay with him for a while. You can leave. Thanks for your help.''
''You sure, Jack? You look pretty worn out.''
He sighed, looked to his feet, to Gwen's Converse, then back up to her face. ''Yes, Gwen, thank you. I think... I think I'd like to be alone with him for a while.''
''Okay, Jack. If you say so. Remember, I'm here.'' said Gwen, and left the room.
Jack watched Gwen leave, sighing, and then walked over to the small row of three beds, the middle one occupied.
It was dark by now, and the Doctor had arrived in the early afternoon.
Jack ran his fingers over the bandages that Gwen had placed over the Doctor's wounds, and saw that the Doctor had bled through the bandages.
He had medical training, albeit minimal, when he had started the new regime of Torchwood. He recalled, from the recesses of his mind, that for a human, when either a day had gone by, or they had bled through the bandages, you needed to change the dressing. Time Lords, with two hearts, had more blood circulating than humans, so it was logical that they would need any wounds tended to twice as often.
He took the bandages off the Doctor's chest, and saw that the cuts, while they had not gotten worse, had not healed either. His worry rose up in his body, no matter how much he tried to squelch it. Time Lords were supposed to heal much faster than humans.
Again, Jack wondered what was troubling his old friend. What could have happened?
Jack replaced the bandages and then sat down in the chair next to the bed.
He was trying to come up with reasons why the Doctor could be like this, but none worked, or even made sense, according to what Jack knew about his friend.
He then remembered something he had heard somewhere: Even when you're unconscious, you can sometimes still feel a hug. Was that true? Whether it was or not, Jack needed it, even if the Doctor didn't.
He sat down in the chair beside the bed, and Jack pulled him up into as much of a sitting position as he could, Tears rolling down Jack's face, hehugged him. Even Time Lords need hugs sometimes.
Whether it benefited the Doctor or not, Jack did not know, but it benefited Jack.
But Jack felt the Doctor's hand again, and it was shockingly cold. Not just as cold as his
skin was normally, but ice cold. Was that to be expected with an unconscious Time Lord?
He didn't know, he had never seen anything like this. Why would he have?
Finding himself fidgeting, he walked over to the medical supplies cabinet, and got out a hot water bottle. He filled the bottle with hot water from the tap and walked back over to his friend, all the while hoping it would warm him up some.
He put the bottle under the Doctor's hand, as that was what was cold, and got a blanket from the cabinet on the opposite side of the room.
He walked back over to the bed and spread it over his friend. He sat back down in the
chair, and thought about all the other adventures they had together, but he just couldn't concentrate, the worry inside him was all too palpable and rising up. It almost felt like it was filling his lungs, drowning in his own fear and worry.
He kept looking at the Doctor, checking his pulse to see that his hearts were still beating.
He did this every few minutes, and each time, thankfully, he both heard and felt the faint, bumbum-bumbum that told Jack that ever so faintly, the Doctor's hearts, both of them, were still beating. It wasn't great, but it could be worse, he told himself. And he continued telling himself that for a while, a very long while...
While the Doctor was not aware of the real world, he was dreaming of another. One he destroyed years ago. His own home planet of Gallifrey.
He was dreaming of a time before he ever knew he was to become who he was now, before he ever knew what destruction he was going to cause.
''Hi, Theta!'' he heard a voice say behind him.
He swung around quickly, to find that his old friend Koshei was running towards him.
This was centuries before the events that led him to be known as 'The Master'.
Theta and Koshei were friends when Gallifrey still existed, when its magnificent Citadel of the Time Lords still stood.
Koshei came running to him, and ran past him, stealing Theta's hat as he went. They were only seven years old now, young, even by human standards.
Theta ran after Koshei, and before long, the two were involved in a rigorous game of tag.
Theta's mother came out to check on him, but when she saw what was happening, she went back inside, not wanting to distract her son from the fun he was having.
The two boys ran over the colorful hills and the red grass, trying to catch up to one another.
Theta was normally the faster runner, but his uncomfortable shoes disadvantaged him and he could not catch up to Koshei.
It was amazing, how much energy these two boys had. It seemed they could never tire.
But, of course, they did.
They sat down on a bench beside the colorful, rolling hills, where they could get a fascinating view of the two suns as they shone over the brilliant planet.
''Isn't this amazing?'' asked Theta.
He had always been interested in the sciences of space, so this kind of a question was not unusual for him to be asking. Koshei had gotten used to it, although it could get annoying sometimes.
''I mean, all the heat those two stars must give off to make this planet perfect for Time Lord life! Isn't it just fascinating? Not too hot, not too cold, just the right temperature, with the atmosphere shielding us, for us to live on this planet! And all the other planets too! Perfect for the lifeforms that live on each one! Don't you think that's amazing, Koshei?''
''Yeah, fascinating." There was a slight annoyance in his voice, but it dissapeared quickly. "Hey, Theta, do you think when you grow up you might study space and try and find new planets and stars? Since you're so interested in it.''
''I don't know. I might. How should I know? We're only seven years old! We have hundreds of years ahead of us! Why should I have to choose now?" He gave a loud, genuine laugh. "What about you, if you're trying to get me to choose. What do you want to do when you get to be older?''
''I see why you can't answer," he breathed. "It's a pretty hard question. But to try to answer it, I'm as interested in the natural sciences, chemistry and biology, as you are interested in the science of the universe.''
''Oh. Okay.'' Theta normally couldn't stop talking, it showed he was interested when he was speechless, or even near it.
Just then, Theta's mother came out of the house, and said, ''Theta! I need you home!''
''Okay, mother,'' he said.. ''Bye, Koshei,'' he said, and the two went running opposite ways to their homes.
The Doctor's mind then flashed back to an incident, centuries later, when the two boys were not as friendly towards each other as they had used to be.
The Master, his old friend Koshei, was dying in his arms, refusing to regenerate and therefore be imprisoned with the Doctor for the rest of his life.
The Doctor was just about to take responsibility for this man that had, oh so long ago, been his friend. Maybe he hoped that could happen again, that they could be partners, equals, in exploring the universe. He knew the chances of this were slim, but, being who he was, he refused to give up hope.
The Master, wondering what would happen to him, and admittedly, a little scared of the results, asked again, "You still haven't answered the question. What happens to me?"
He knew what he had to do. "You're my responsibility from now on. The only Time Lord left in existence," he said, in a moment he would remember until the end of his lives.
He knew it might have been foolish, taking in the Master, but he could only think of what would happen if he didn't. These people, filled with rage at this man who, in their eyes, seemed evil and insane, through and through, would kill him for all he had done.
The Doctor, however, could see through the facade of insanity and evil, to see an old man, like himself, who had turned insane as a child because of his elders. The Master was only evil because he was filled with anger towards those who had forced him to see something so horrible, he naturally went mad.
His insanity, brought on by the same people his true anger was directed towards, only added to that evil. But the Doctor had known the Master long before these people, these humans, ever had, long before his fury came on, long before he was forced to look into the whole of time itself. Before that, the boys had been friends. Before, Koshei had been remotely normal, for a Time Lord, at least. Sure, he had been a little crazy, but in a good way, not nearly like he was now.
These memories had convinced the Doctor to try to protect the man, this friend turned insane and evil, he had once known, and now knew again.
He was brought out of his memories by Jack, his voice doubtful and unsure, but in no way trying to stop him. "Yeah, but you can't trust him."
The Doctor knew that. He knew that if he took in the Master, he would need to keep his eyes on him at all times, like a small child, who doesn't know what would hurt himself or others. He knew how manipulative the Master could be. He still didn't care. He just wanted to protect his old friend. He knew what he had to do, what he had to say.
"No. The only safe place for him is the TARDIS."
The Master's voice immediately came to his ears, full of anger, but also just a little bit of curiosity. "You mean you're just gonna…keep me?"
The way the Master said it made him sound like the Doctor's pet. But the things the Doctor had to keep him from doing were much worse than chewing up the furniture, or his shoes, like a dog would do. It was more like universal destruction and domination.
He'd been wandering aimlessly for longer than he could remember. Maybe now was the time to stop.
"Hmm." he said as he gathered his thoughts, then looked into the Master's eyes. "If that's what I have to do."
He turned to look at Jack, his funny and slightly off-color friend. "It's time to change. Maybe I've been wandering for too long. Now I'll have someone to care for."
Out of nowhere, a gunshot rang out, and the Master staggered backwards. It was obvious what had happened. The gun, dropped by Francine, was available to be used by Lucy, to shoot her husband.
Jack ran over to Lucy, and took the gun out of her shaking hands, while the Doctor ran over to his friend.
Lucy's hand was still on the gun, as Jack took it away. "Put it down." Jack's voice was soft, yet still full of anger.
The Doctor barely noticed.
He was on the floor, with his friend in his arms, shaken from what had just happened.
Though he was dying, the Master didn't seem angry or vengeful. Rather, he seemed, not quite glad, but happy nonetheless. The Doctor had no idea why.
"Always the women," said the Master, in a soft voice, though he didn't sound at all bitter.
"I didn't see her."
It was the truth; he was too focused in his own memories, his own thoughts, to see what was coming.
"Dying in your arms. Happy now?"
No. Not at all, he wanted to say. He wasn't at all happy. He had seen too many deaths over the courses of his lives. He didn't want another, didn't need another implanted, embedded, in his memory. He already had enough.
Then he started to wonder why the Master didn't just regenerate. The Master seemed angry about coming with him, yes, but wasn't that better than dying?
He tried to keep the tears already in his eyes from spilling. "You're not dying, don't be stupid. It's only a bullet. Just regenerate."
With true indignance, the Master's voice came to his ears. "I guess you don't know me so well. I refuse." He heard, along with the words, the Master struggling to breathe.
The tears in his eyes threatened to come cascading down his face, but he tried to keep them at bay.
He didn't need another death to look back on years from now. He'd already had that happen countless times. Thinking of this just brought more tears to his eyes, and made him feel guiltier, so he just stared at the man in his arms, indignant even at his time of death.
The tears that had been welling in his eyes finally started to fall, and with them came all the guilt he had been trying to hide for so long, and his pure despair at his friend dying in his arms. He begged for what he knew would be refused, but even so, he tried.
"Regenerate. Just regenerate. Please! Please! Just regenerate!"
He started yelling in desperation. "Come on!"
He knew the refusal would come, again, the same lividity in the voice as before.
"And spend the rest of my life imprisoned with you?"
That's better than dying, he thought to say, but he knew this would only be revoked.
The memories he had been working so hard at trying to avoid came bursting through with extreme clarity. He relayed them to the dying man, still sad, though remembering good times.
"You've got to. Come on. It can't end like this. You and me, all the things we've done. Axons? Remember the Axons? And the Daleks?"
In a moment of sheer and utter despair, he pleaded with his dying friend. "We're the only two left, there's no one else. Regenerate!"
Thinking about the world he'd lost, the planet he'd destroyed, brought tears to his eyes yet again, and made the misery of the present even worse.
Again, the refusal. He had expected this, but he could not hold back his plea.
"How about that? I win."
After a few seconds, the Master spoke his last. He asked a question about the one thing that troubled him his whole life: the drums.
"Will it stop, Doctor? The drumming. Will it stop?"
The Master's eyes fluttered closed, and as he died, the Doctor held him close.
This time, no memories came, whether they were to comfort, anger, or sadden him. Maybe no thoughts could get through the mournful wall in his mind.
He just sat there, rocking on his heels, and holding his friend's dead body to his own live one. He knew the others were looking at him, but he simply didn't care. He screamed in powerless rage at thin air, nothingness...
It was late evening now. It had been an hour since Jack had come back to check on the Doctor, and he had not even moved once.
The man's arm then fell, limp, off of the bed. Because of this, the cuff of his shirt sleeve rolled up, and Jack discovered something he had not seen before.
There were many small scratches, all the way from his wrist up to his inner elbow. Jack thought, ''Why would he do this to himself? Does he want to die? The aspirin, now this? Why did he do this?'' After this discovery, the platitudes he had been telling himself did no good. It felt as if he was choking on his own feelings, drowning. He grabbed the glass of water from the bedside table, and drank it down slowly. The feeling of suffocation began to abate, but the liquid fear was still leveling inside him.
Just then, snapping him out of his worries - which Jack had needed -, Ianto came in.
Ianto looked at Jack, sitting next to the man laying on the bed. He sighed, then began to walk toward the captain.
''Jack? You need anything? Would you like a break? Go to the shops, have a good time! You certainly do need it. I'll stay here for a while, if you do.''
Jack was obviously surprised by Ianto's question, his total turnaround. After all, earlier this afternoon, it hadn't seemed like Ianto had been very warm to the alien man. Ianto understood that. He also understood why it took so long until Jack said, "You sure, Ianto?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm sure." He gave one of his smiles to the man, urging him to get up, get away. Of course, this would partially serve Iantos purposes, but Ianto knew he was right: Jack needed a break.
Ianto saw Jack's face change, deep in thought; only for a moment, then half-reluctantly disentangle his fingers from the Doctor's and stood up. "Okay, Ianto. No aspirin, though,'' He left the room, without his usual spring in his steps, his usual cheeky grin lacking from his face.
While Jack was away, Ianto mulled over the man before him.
Ianto hadn't exactly had the best feelings about the Doctor since he'd gotten there, so it was a surprise to everyone.
True, he was jealous of the alien at first, and he still was unsure that this 'Doctor' was no threat to the growing relationship between himself and Jack.
His boss had said that the Doctor was not a man's man, but Ianto could never be sure. Jack had a tendency to flirt with everyone he met, wherever he met them. Including some enemies of Torchwood, at times. Later, there was always a reason for that, but couldn't he have achieved the same result some other way?
Ianto sat in the chair beside the bed, and looked at the alien before him. ''Who is he?'' he thought. ''Why is everyone else so friendly towards him? He's an alien, and Torchwood Three - much less Torchwood One, Four, and Three - has not exactly had the best experience with aliens. We're here to fight aliens, scavenge from them, not befriend and take care of them! It seems like... Is everyone just forgetting that?''
He was snapped out of his thoughts by a moan, and, eventually, his heart melted (slightly) for the man before him, just as everyone else's had already.
Just then, Ianto spotted something curious on the man's lower arm. He gently lifted the man's arm back up onto the bed, and examined it. There were many small scratches, as Jack had seen before, but that wasn't what caught Ianto's attention.
He saw a purplish-black welt on the man's arm. It looked almost like... no... it couldn't be. Was that a brand? It looked like it. It looked almost like a Soviet or Nazi brand from the second World War, but not exactly.
A Soviet brand was the closest thing Ianto knew to compare it to, but as he studied it further, he noticed the words were in some weird, indecipherable foreign language, comparable to nothing Ianto had ever seen. The depiction on the brand, as well was strange. It wasn't etched very clearly, but it was obviously not human.
Ianto's curiosity for the man increased, while decreasing his suspicion.
Like everyone else, he wondered, ''Who is this man?''
Ianto debated whether to tell Jack about the brand, then finally decided not to. It was better if he found out for himself.
Ianto heard the Doctor mutter in his sleep, ''Rose... Bad Wolf...'' He filed the words away in his mind to ask Jack later, he might know what they meant. Jack would certainly be glad the man had spoken, a sign of his gradual recovery.