ONE MONTH LATER

Harper wandered into the boardroom and put the bag of bagel's and cup holder down on the table. The other four all dug in as they resumed what they were doing; Cameron checking House's mail, Sato and Chase were doing a medical cross word together and Foreman was making some notes from a large book on the table.

"He's still not in yet, then?" Harper asked as he sat down and started munching on a bagel.

"It's only eleven," Cameron replied not looking up from the computer. "Sometimes he doesn't come in until nearly four."

Harper raised his eyebrows slightly, but pulled a newspaper towards him and started flicking through it.

--

House was sat in bed; glasses perched on his nose as he turned the page of his book. He could hear Wilson clattering- louder than was necessary- in the kitchen, probably in an attempt to let him know that he ought to get up.

House ignored the noise until eventually Wilson wandered in with breakfast on a tray. He handed it to House and stood watching him, with his hands on his hips.

"I'm not your slave," he said pointedly. "We agreed that if I moved in, it would be on equal terms."

"I'll make you breakfast," House replied.

"When?" Wilson asked.

"Tomorrow," House put his book down on his bedside table.

"Pfft, yeah, ok," Wilson turned and headed back out.

House pulled a face as Wilson walked out and turned towards the handmade breakfast in front of him. Macadamia nut pancakes, his favourite. This was exactly the reason he'd persuaded Wilson to move in. Well… not the only reason.

"And I've had to do the washing up," Wilson stuck his head round the doorway. "Again."

"Alright! Alright!" House sighed and rolled his eyes. "I'll do it tomorrow, ok? Promise."

Wilson looked doubtful but nodded and went to find his coat. The only reason he was still there was because he'd taken the morning off, hoping he'd be able to get some extra work done, but instead he'd ended up taking care of House. As always.

"I'm going in now," Wilson called from the living room as he grabbed his car keys. "Do you want a lift?"

"Nah, I'll be alright," House called back.

"See you later."

"Bye," House picked up his mobile as he heard Wilson leave.

He knew that he ought to find a way to say thanks for everything his friend did. So he dialled and pressed the phone to his ear smiling slightly.

--

CARDIFF

Gwen was wandering round the Hub gathering up various bits of paper from different desks and looking through them. Life had been pretty hectic since they'd returned home, especially since they were down three Torchwood members.

"Jack?" She darted into Jack's office where the Captain was sat behind his desk.

"Mm?" Jack looked up from his computer.

"How much longer are you going to let Tosh and Owen stay in America?" She asked. "We can barely cope now, what's going to happen if some alien invasion starts?"

"We'll manage," Jack replied.

"No, Jack, we won't," Gwen shook her head. "You're only here half the time… I'm practically running the Hub on my own."

"I know," Jack rubbed his face tiredly. "I'm sorry, but it'll get better."

"It might not," Gwen stood there with her hands on her hips. "Jack, we can't carry on like this."

"I'll fix it ok!" Jack snapped standing up and slamming his hands on his desk. Gwen didn't even flinch; she just stood there glaring back at Jack.

"Some things you can't fix, Jack," she said gently.

--

The brown haired woman wandered towards him, giggling foolishly and waggling her fingers. He tried to get away, but she grabbed him with razor sharp nails, digging into his skin painfully and pinning him down so he couldn't move.

He struggled but she held him still, her bright red lips looking comical in their dark surroundings. The woman suddenly started dragging him backwards and he found himself being held underwater. He flailed more desperately, unable to breath, but she held him there smiling maliciously…

Ianto woke with a start and groaned. Third time that week he'd woken from the same nightmare in a wet bed and it was only Tuesday. He sighed and turned onto his side glancing at the clock next to him. Nearly midday. Jack would be back soon to make him lunch.

Ianto sat up and went to find some fresh clothes before heading towards the bathroom. At least he could remember how to wash himself now… and manage to do it without having a seizure.

He undressed and stepped under the warm water, sighing slightly as he let it run down his back. He traced the scars dotted along his body, down his chest, along his abdomen, still angry red and sore.

Ianto rested his head against the cool tiles of the wall, standing directly under the stream of water so he couldn't tell what was from the shower head and what was slowly falling down his cheeks from elsewhere.

He hated what he'd become. He wasn't his own person anymore. He couldn't take care of himself, he couldn't work for Torchwood anymore, he couldn't…

Ianto still had some vague memories of what had happened between him and Jack, and vague memories of what had happened before he'd fallen ill. He hadn't mentioned anything to Jack, though, and the Captain - apart from looking after him twenty four seven - had kept his distance.

Not that Ianto would be able to verify his feelings even if he wanted to. His brain wasn't the only thing that had gone a bit wonky. He ran a hand over his face and heard the door bang.

"Ianto?"

Ianto didn't reply. He knew Jack would hear the running water and put two and two together.

He stepped out of the shower and dried and dressed quickly, pulling on a pair of jeans, t-shirt and dark blue hoodie. He wandered out into the hallway and spotted Jack coming out of the bedroom with the sheet and duvet cover in his arms.

"You could've called," Jack said gently, putting the bundle into the washing basket. "I'd have come back earlier."

Ianto continued down the hall to the living room, settling himself on the sofa and switching on the T.V., trying to ignore the sounds of Jack changing the bedclothes and cleaning up the mess he'd made.

When he'd finished Jack joined Ianto in the living room, hanging his coat that had been on the back of the sofa up properly. Ianto had pulled his hood up now but Jack knew he was staring at the T.V. not really seeing it.

"Do you want something to eat?" Jack asked gently.

Ianto shook his head mutely.

"Are you going to talk to me?" Jack watched Ianto carefully.

The Welshman just glanced at him darkly.

"I'm only trying to help," he said softly. "Sorry."

Ianto looked at him again and, sighing, reached out to squeeze Jack's hand. Jack smiled slightly and squeezed back.