Jack gasped, feeling the pain slice through him as he struggled for breath. His eyes throbbed and his throat was parched, raw. He whimpered, just the simple effort tearing at his damaged flesh, making him claw at his neck, instinct telling him he couldn't get enough air.

Strong hands closed over his, pulling his fingers away from his throat, enclosing them in warmth. He was cold. He hadn't even realize he was cold. Now he shivered.

"Shh," a gentle voice told him. It sounded far away. "It's alright, sir. You're going to be just fine." He wanted to get to the voice. It was soothing. He struggled against the weight on his chest. "Relax."

"H-hurts," he managed to say, the very effort feeling like razorblades in his mouth.

"I know," the voice whispered, and a slight pressure was applied to his forehead. A kiss, he concluded. "I know it hurts, but you have to remain still. Your body is healing."

His eyes opened slowly, a bright, piercing light hitting him and making him squint. His mind supplied that it was a street lamp. He blinked a few times, his surroundings finally swimming into focus. An alleyway. A dank, dark alleyway, lit only by the single lamp on the corner. What a pleasant place to die.

He closed his eyes again, not wanting to see anymore. Besides, his eyes still throbbed and the light was making them worse. He shifted minutely, realizing he was half-lying on the ground, half on something firm yet comfortable. Another body.

Flexing his fingers, he found they were still tucked into warmth, held against his chest by the body beneath him. The weight on him lifted slightly as fingers wound between his own, then settled back down, holding him tightly.

"Ianto."

"Yes, sir," the voice replied. Yes, now he could make out the beautiful Welsh vowels. He allowed himself a small smile. His beautiful Welshman. "I'm here."

He sighed, using his increasing strength to squeeze Ianto's fingers. "I died again…Ianto?"

There was a soft sigh, and Jack felt another kiss on his forehead. "Yes, you did."

"Must have been…bad." He shifted, wanting to sit up.

"That it was, sir. And stay down," Ianto added, releasing Jack's fingers to press against his chest. "Trust me."

"Weevil?"

"Three of them. I couldn't get here fast enough." The last words were a bit choked, and Jack could feel a tremble go through the other man, then there was a whispered, "I'm sorry, Jack."

The switch to his name made Jack's eyebrows knit together. That only happened when they were intimate, Jack was being obnoxious, or Ianto was feeling especially emotional. The latter was extremely rare. Ianto tended to internalize his emotions.

"Not your…fault," Jack told him, words still a been stilted but throat feeling significantly better. And his memory was coming back. "They're…getting smarter."

He felt the tension in the other man release slightly, though his hold on Jack had not. Letting his eyes blink open again he found that the light was not as intense. In fact, the street lamp was a dim yellow glow. His eyes adjusted slowly and he took a deep breath. It didn't hurt.

"How are you feeling?" Ianto asked him, brushing the damp hair from Jack's face.

"Much better," said Jack, letting his free hand settle on Ianto's leg. He squeezed, smiling as he snuggled a bit into Ianto's embrace. "But this is nice."

"Well," Ianto huffed, stroking Jack's hair. "I can think of many words for this grungy, disgusting alleyway, and nice is not among them."

Jack chuckled softly. "I meant you and me, Ianto." He raised the Welshman's hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to his fingers before letting their hands settle on his chest once more. "This."

"Oh."

Jack wiggled his toes. He hadn't thought to do so before. They seemed okay. He bounced his knees. No pain. He knew his arms were fine.

"I think I can sit up now."

Ianto tensed but said, "Okay."

With the other man's help Jack slowly rolled to a seated position. His back felt a bit tight, but other than that he deemed he was healing nicely. Of course, he still didn't know the extent of the damages, but he figured Ianto would fill him in when necessary.

"Were you hurt?" Jack asked him, realizing he'd not yet even checked.

"Just minor scratches," was the reply. Jack breathed easier. "Nothing I can't handle."

Wanting to see the Welshman, Jack turned his head. He felt a sharp pull in his neck and hissed. Ianto immediately straightened Jack's posture, holding his head.

"Your neck was bad, sir," he said, resting his head against Jack's. "Best to keep looking straight ahead, for now."

Jack pouted, despite the pain. He wanted to make sure Ianto was okay. He was in the habit of caring for himself last. "Come here, then," he said, indicating the area in front of him. "Let me see you."

"Sir…"

"Ianto…"

There was another sigh and then Ianto got to his feet behind him, shuffling slowly until he was in front of Jack. Knowing he shouldn't move his head, he waited until Ianto sat back down, this time cross-legged.

"Satisfied?" the Welshman asked, eyebrow raised.

Jack gasped, reaching out a hand to touch the other man's face. "Oh, Ianto."

Ianto flinched, turning his head. "Please don't."

Jack's hand retreated, and he swallowed hard. Seeing what the Weevils had done to the beautiful man before him made his heart clench. There was blood on his face along a jagged tear. It extended from Ianto's left temple down along his cheek and ended just before his throat. It would certainly need stitches, and Jack knew it should be sooner rather than later.

"You need to see Owen," he told him, fingers itching to touch him, to make it better.

"When you're healed."

"Ianto, that injury needs attention."

"I'll be fine."

"Ianto…"

"It's just a scratch."

Jack sighed. He knew Ianto would always sacrifice himself to make sure the rest of the team was okay. That Jack was okay. No one looked out for Ianto except Jack. Not even the Welshman himself.

He noticed there were other scratches, albeit much more shallow than the slice down his face. They covered his other cheek, his neck, and based on the fact that Ianto's suit jacket was torn at the shoulder and ripped away, leaving a tattered dress sleeve beneath it, Jack was pretty sure the scratches continued down his arm.

"You're losing a lot of blood," he said, frowning. "We need to go now."

"Head wounds always bleed a lot, sir," Ianto argued, shaking his head. He winced but tried to hide it.

"Alright, that's it," Jack growled, gathering his legs beneath him and getting slowly but determinedly to his feet. He felt woozy for a moment but regained his composure. "We're going. Now."

"Jack, please," Ianto started, but Jack put up his hand.

"Enough. Let's go."

They made their way back to the SUV, Ianto insisting upon Jack leaning on him as they went. He was feeling better with every minute that passed, whereas Ianto, he could tell, was feeling worse.

Jack insisted upon driving, given the blood loss Ianto had suffered, and had Ianto call Owen's cell to ensure the medic would be able to get back to the Hub in a timely manner. He saw no need to contact Gwen or Toshiko, as he had sent them home hours ago and this alert had been his and Ianto's to handle.

When they arrived at the Hub Jack kept an arm around Ianto, but it was more for the younger man's benefit than his own. Making their way to the medical bay Jack took little sidelong glances at the man beside him. Ianto was making an effort not to show any outward signs of pain, but Jack knew better.

Owen made no apologies for being snarky as he pulled on his latex gloves. "You're lucky I'd already sent my date home."

"I think your love life can take a backseat to Ianto's injuries," Jack replied, folding his arms over his chest.

"It's not that bad," Ianto commented, scowling as Owen hooked him up to intravenous fluids and then swabbed his scratches with alcohol.

"That would be incorrect, Tea Boy," Owen told him, turning to rummage through a drawer. He didn't see the look Ianto shot him. "You've lost quite a bit of blood, you're dehydrated, and that wound needs stitches."

"How many?" Ianto asked, eyes wide. Jack took his hand, squeezing it gently.

"At least twenty. That Weevil got you bloody good, mate."

Ianto's eyes darted to Jack's face and then then away. Jack sympathized. He knew how much Ianto hated needles. "Can't you use something from the archives instead? There has to be something there."

Owen turned back with a large needle and surgical thread. "Afraid not, Ianto. There're no broken bones to knit, just a deep wound that will easily get infected if we don't close it up now. Lay back."

Jack felt Ianto's grip tighten significantly, and saw the man swallow slowly. "What about a scar?"

"I'll try my best, Ianto," Owen replied, swabbing along the sides of the wound with a mild anesthetic. Jack knew from experience Ianto would still be in pain. "No promises."

"Scars are distinguishing," Jack said, smiling at Ianto. "Real men have scars."

"You don't."

Jack frowned. "Yes, well…we all know why. Believe me when I say I'd rather I did."

Ianto met his eyes for a moment and Jack knew that for as much worry and pain he saw etched there, Ianto was able to see in his own sadness and regret. Jack would give anything to be normal. While he liked being able to take the brunt of danger, as he had tonight, there was nothing he wouldn't do to be able to die like the rest of them.

"Alright, starting now," Owen stated, pressing the needle to Ianto's temple.

Ianto's face was a world of misery as Owen stitched him up. Jack stood beside him, Ianto's hand held within both of his own, letting the man release his pain on him. With every insertion of the needle Ianto tensed, his hand squeezing Jack's as if it were his lifeline. By the time Owen was done – nearly fifteen minutes and twenty-five stitches later – Jack's hand was red and throbbing. A short time later, however, the condition passed, and Jack sighed.

"Alright, mate," Owen said, dabbing the long cut again with alcohol. "All done with that." Ianto went to get up but the medic pushed him back down. "Not yet, you don't. Steady fluids for the next several hours, and then you can take it easy."

"Seriously? Owen, I'm fine."

Owen folded his arms. "Oh really? Another thirty minutes with that wound hanging open and you'd have collapsed."

"I'll make sure he stays put," Jack informed the man, settling a hand on Ianto's knee.

"I'm not an invalid."

"Keep him lying down," Owen instructed, putting his supplies away and dropping the needle into the sterilizer. He handed a small bottle of pills to Jack. "I'll be back in early to take out the IV, and then Ianto can go home."

"I'm right here, thank you very much," Ianto muttered. "You don't have to talk around me."

"Sorry, Ianto," Jack responded, tucking the bottle into his pocket. "I'll stay with you. Owen, go ahead and head out. We'll see you in a few hours."

The medic nodded and then saluted, hopping up the steps into the Hub and then heading out through the cog door.

"You don't have to wait here, sir," Ianto said when the door closed behind Owen. "I'll be fine. You have paperwork to do."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "You really think I'd rather do paperwork than sit here with you?" He pulled up the medic's stool, bringing it around to the side where he'd been standing. "Surely you jest."

Ianto rolled his eyes. "Silly me."

Thirty minutes later and Ianto was sleeping peacefully. Apparently Owen had slipped pain meds into Ianto's drip. Jack smiled, watching him sleep. He stroked Ianto's hand before brushing his fingers through Ianto's hair gently. He really was beautiful.

When the cog door opened and the alarms sounded, Jack was knocked from his light slumber. He raised his head from where it rested on his chest and looked around. Tosh was looking down at him from the railing.

"Good morning, Jack," she said. "You two okay? Owen called me this morning to let me know Ianto had been hurt."

He glanced down at Ianto, who was just starting to rouse from his sleep. "Yeah, we're alright. Ianto and I took an alert last night. Turned out to be several Weevils and they got the jump on me. I've healed up but Ianto here…well, he got a pretty nasty cut."

"I'm fine," Ianto grumbled, sitting up and rubbing the back of his head. "But…Owen drugged me!"

"He does that," Tosh replied, offering Ianto a sad smile. "Usually when he's convinced you won't take the meds on your own."

"He knows me well," Ianto said, looking down at his clothing. "I'm going to need a new suit."

Tosh headed off to her work station and Jack glanced at his watch. It was a quarter past seven. He didn't normally expect Owen in until around nine, but since the medic had said "early," he hoped he'd make an appearance soon. Ianto, while being somewhat rested, could not be very comfortable on the metal table and he knew he was antsy.

"You could always walk around naked," Jack offered, shrugging.

Ianto shot him a look. "Amusing, sir. I believe I have another suit stashed here somewhere."

"Well, since I'm taking you home after Owen clears you I doubt you'll need it."

"That's really not necessary, sir. I feel fine."

"Ianto, I'm not letting you work today." Ianto opened his mouth as if to argue. Jack shook his head, holding up his hand. Ianto's brow furrowed but he closed his mouth. "You need to take at least a day to rest."

"Even if Owen says I'm fine?"

"Yes, even then. But it's not going to happen."

As if on cue the sirens blared and the man in question made his way into the Hub, heading immediately down to the medical bay where Ianto and Jack sat waiting.

"Right then, let's get that IV out of you," Owen said, snapping on gloves and moving over to Ianto. He removed the line fully, then checked Ianto's wound. "No seepage. That's good."

"So when can I get back to work?" Ianto asked, looking from Owen to Jack and then back again. "The Captain wants me to go home for the day."

"That'd be my recommendation as well. I'd prefer if you didn't drive, however," Owen confirmed, cleaning the wound quickly with a swab. Ianto slumped unhappily. "Oh cheer up, mate. Would you rather have to deal with Gwen? She and Rhys have been fighting again and you know how she gets."

"Moody," Ianto acknowledged, sighing. "Fine. Sir, take me home."

Jack smirked. "I thought you'd never ask."

"Oi!"

They made their way to Ianto's car, Jack trying not to look at the cut on Ianto's face but finding himself drawn to it. While it was no longer bleeding, the stitches made it look worse. He itched to reach out and touch him, to make it better, but he knew Ianto didn't want his pity, and there was really nothing Jack could do to make the wound go away.

"You're staring, sir," Ianto told him, frowning as he got into the passenger side of his car.

"Sorry," Jack apologized, sliding into the driver's seat and starting the engine. "Does it hurt?"

"Not too much. Whatever Owen gave me is still working."

"Good."

Ianto flipped down the sun shade, looking in the mirror. "Oh my God."

Jack grimaced, not turning to look as he backed out of the parking spot. "It's not that bad, Ianto."

"It's horrible," the other man argued. "How long do I have to have these things in for?"

"I don't think Owen said," Jack replied, heading them out of the underground car park and on towards Ianto's flat. "But I'm sure once the swelling goes down it won't be as bad as you think."

"Not so sure about that," Ianto grumbled. "It's going to scar. I'll be hideous."

"You could never be hideous."

"Yes, Jack, I could."

Jack sighed. He knew arguing with Ianto was always a lost cause. If the man thought he was going to scar badly then there'd be no convincing him otherwise. All he could do at this point was support him while he healed.

An hour later and they were settled on Ianto's couch, freshly showered. Ianto had slipped into pajama bottoms and a t-shirt and Jack wore a pair of his tracksuit bottoms and another t-shirt. He smiled at Ianto. "You look more comfortable without the torn suit."

"I feel more comfortable." Jack noticed he didn't return the smile. "Are you staying for the day then?"

Jack's eyebrow went up. "For a while, I suppose. Did you not want me to?"

"No, I'd like the company," Ianto replied. "Though I won't be much good to you. Too tired from the pain meds."

"What do you mean?"

"Well I can't imagine I'll be very entertaining. At least, not in the usual way."

"Ianto, there's more to life than having sex." Jack knew the medication Owen had given him would likely inhibit his libido. He'd live without having sex with Ianto that day, and for as long as it took for him to feel better.

"Of course," Ianto snorted, looking away. He picked up the remote control and turned on the television. "I wouldn't want to sleep with me either. It's not like I'm attractive right now, anyhow. Not looking like this."

Jack pulled the remote from his hand and clicked it back off. "I'm here as your boss and your friend, Ianto, not just as a lover. But you happen to look just fine."

Ianto met his eyes. "There's no need to hide it, Jack," he said, shrugging. "I've seen myself in the mirror. I look like a mutant."

"Ianto, you do not look like a mutant." Ianto didn't appear convinced. "And furthermore, your injury is not nearly enough to make you unattractive, so cut that out!"

"The scarring will be."

Jack growled, dropping the remote onto the table with a thud. He moved towards Ianto, cupping the uninjured side of his face and pressing their lips together. Ianto didn't return the kiss and eventually Jack pulled back, hurt.

"Ianto…"

"I'm sorry, Jack. Just…don't." Ianto got up, heading for the bedroom. "I'm going to go lay down. Thank you for taking me home. You're welcome to stay, if you want. Otherwise you can take my car back to the hub. I don't mind."

With that Ianto disappeared into his room, leaving the door ajar behind him. Jack heard the rustling of the duvet and sighed. Did Ianto really think he wasn't attracted to him any longer? Part of him was upset that Ianto would think that way, but another part of him knew it was his own fault. He'd made such a big deal out of Ianto's looks at every opportunity, it was no wonder the man thought that Jack would be turned off by his injury. And as far as Ianto believing Jack only wanted him for sex, Jack, once again, could only blame himself.

Easing off the couch Jack followed the man to the bedroom. Standing in the doorway he took in the mass covered almost entirely by the bedclothes. Jack frowned. Ianto was huddled into the fetal position, facing the wall. He normally faced the middle of the bed, tucked into Jack's chest. Walking to the bed, Jack turned back the covers and slipped underneath. He reached a hand to Ianto's shoulder but the man flinched away. Jack's heart clenched.

He was torn. While he didn't want Ianto thinking he was no longer attracted to him, he also wanted to prove that they were more than just sex partners. He enjoyed Ianto's company, whether inside the bedroom or out. But how could he show him that without him thinking he was no longer interested?

In the weeks that followed it only got worse. Ianto became distant, keeping their interaction at coffee time to a minimum, and he found reasons to stay in the archives much of the day. Jack knew that the Welshman had ensured by now that those rooms were organized and clutter-free. That could only mean he was avoiding him. And that really hurt.

When the stitches came out Jack tried to be there for him, moving to his side in the medical bay. Ianto frowned and waved him away, saying he was fine and didn't need an audience. Jack started to protest but Ianto's glare told him there was no arguing the point. Ianto was determined to go it alone.

Jack was glad the scarring wasn't nearly as bad as Ianto had been afraid of, but that was, apparently, not an opinion Ianto shared. He found a way to avoid standing with his left side to anyone, and when asked if he was okay he would answer, "I'm alright, considering."

It had been over three weeks since Jack had stayed with Ianto at his flat, and even longer since Ianto had stayed overnight at the Hub. After he'd sent everyone home, Jack decided he'd had enough. Determined to fix whatever was wrong, he called Ianto to his office.

"You rang, sir?"

Jack frowned at the reference. "I want you to stay here, tonight."

"I thought we'd discussed this, sir."

"No, no we didn't, Ianto."

Ianto straightened his shoulders. "Permission to speak freely?"

"Of course!"

"I'm not interested in a pity fuck, sir. Now if there's nothing else I'd like to be on my way home."

"God damn it, Ianto!" Jack growled, standing and slamming his hands down on his desk. "I'm not interested in that either. What did I do to make you so angry with me?"

"It's not you, sir," Ianto replied. "It's me. I'm no longer the same man."

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

"I've had to adapt. I'm no longer the pretty face in the nice suit. I can't use my looks to get by anymore."

"So that's what you were doing before?" Jack asked, cocking an eyebrow. "You really aren't as intelligent as you come across? You can't recite the last ten entries into the archive log by memory? You can't keep this team on schedule, can't make a damned fine cup pot of coffee, and can't put a hole through the middle of a target from further back than any other member of this team?"

"Sir…"

"And I suppose you also can't wrestle a Weevil to the ground faster than anyone I know?"

Ianto flinched at the mention of the Weevils. "No," he said calmly, though Jack could see his eyes had filled with tears. "No, I can't. I think we both know that now."

Spinning on his heel Ianto headed out of his office. Jack closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. The Weevils. So that was it. Oh, Ianto.

"Ianto, wait!" He grabbed his coat and his Webley, tucking the gun into its holster and then slipping into the coat as he hurried after the Welshman. "Ianto!"

Spinning around at the open cog door Ianto stood with shoulders squared. "I'm leaving, sir," he said, and Jack's heart pounded in his chest. "Please, if you've any decency in you at all, you won't follow me."

And with that he walked out of the Hub, leaving Jack standing there staring after him.

~tbc~