Breathe in, breathe out.

Ianto repeated those words through his head the entire way back from ...there. He couldn't even bear to think of the name. Everything that happened was tied to that place. He could still feel the blade against his throat, the same as the stabbing pains from the ...the... tenderising. Ianto shook his head.

No thinking about anything that happened.

He didn't want to be stuck in a nightmare where all that surrounded him was the experience over the past 24 hours. So he couldn't let himself think at all. Jack sat in the car, silent, just observing. For once he paid careful attention to the road, and drove like a normal person. Oh how Ianto wanted him to take his bruised body in his warm, protective arms and never let go. Suddenly he jumped at the sound of a car door shutting behind him.

When did we stop?

Ianto's senses were dulled, as if his mind was trying to save him from the overload it would have caused. The others were getting out, but he remained stationary. Jack looked towards him, and observed the stern pale face that didn't even notice Jack was staring right at him. Ianto, usually so perceptive, seemed to be lost in his own mind. Jack guessed he actually was.

"Yan?"

Ianto jumped again upon hearing his name. His eyes darted up to meet the Captain's, unsure if he was supposed to answer a question that had been posed to him without his knowledge.

"Yan, it's ok, it's me. I'm going to take you home ok?" Jack uttered, slowly and carefully. Ianto seemed to be trying to keep it together, but Jack didn't want to do anything that would strain him. Better to just take him home than see if he'd cope getting back himself. And to avoid posing it as a question, as if testing his strength. If there was one thing Jack knew Ianto hated, it was people thinking he was weak. Well that, and when Jack left his dirty socks strewn about the office floor.

Before long, Jack parked outside of Ianto's place. It was a small townhouse, old but well kept. Ianto slowly turned his head, the pit of his stomach falling to the floor. This was it, he was going to be left alone now. And it was his chance to prove to his boss that he was strong.

"Thanks" he mumbled, still not really focused on what was happening. Jack wanted to reach out and firmly grasp his shoulders, look him directly in the eyes and tell him that he was going to take care of him. But he didn't. He didn't want to cause any reactions by touching Ianto if he didn't want it. Ianto still hadn't gotten out of the car, but Jack didn't mind.

"Call me. Seriously. Call me if you need anything. I don't care if it's just to make sure my number is still working, or to ask for the time. Or even if you really need to talk. Please."

"Thanks, Sir. But I -"
"No, just ... know that you can."

Ianto was pleased to be cut off. He really didn't want to finish that lie. He dragged himself out of the car, and walked up the steps to the front door. He froze. It would be dark inside. He took a steadying breath and unlocked the door. There were butterflies in his stomach before, but now it felt more like snakes. Snakes that slithered up his body, constricting his chest and sliding up his airway. He snapped the door open. Dark, as expected. He glanced a quick pleading look to Jack, almost begging him not to make him do it alone.

It's just walking into my own house. I can do this. Stop being a baby.

He walked inside, flicking on the lights before closing the door. Panic still gripped him, but he shut the door behind him without saying goodbye to Jack. He didn't want it to be a goodbye. But he heard the car drive off, and dread washed over him as he realised he was alone.

Jack drove back home, to the Hub, still thinking about Ianto. The others he was worried about as well, but not as much as his Ianto. The boy hadn't had crisis management training. He wasn't a field agent, he was ... well, the administration. Gwen had her police training, and he'd given Tosh and Owen their training personally. And they all had more exposure with traumatic experiences. Granted, this was high on the list of traumatic experiences, but they had training with how to cope. He regretted leaving Ianto alone, but he didn't want to impose himself if all Ianto wanted was to cope alone.

He walked to his office and sat in his chair, putting his head in his hands.
"Ianto, I hope you're alright..." Jack said under his breath. He had his phone out on the table, and found himself just staring at it, waiting.

Ianto had turned on all the lights he had, and sat in the corner of the living room with his legs held firmly against his chest. Here, he was able to let his façade down and express his emotions. He grasped his phone in his hand. He'd thought about calling, a couple of times over the past few hours. But he couldn't let Jack know he was so weak he couldn't be in his own house.

A moth flew into the window, making a soft tap, and Ianto jumped out of his skin. He stared at the window, panting, and despite knowing it was just the moth that continued to flight against the glass to access the light, he kept staring. He felt sick to the stomach, but his throat was dry and aching for water. Shaking, he stood with his back sliding up the wall. He walked through the lounge and into the kitchen. He froze. The fridge.

Ianto's stomach flipped and he thought he was going to vomit. He knew it was just his fridge, he knew exactly what and where the contents were. But it didn't help.

I will not be scared of my fridge.

He made sure he told himself to make it sound ludicrous. He put one reluctant foot after the other to reach the sink. Fumbling, Ianto took a glass from the cupboard and filled it from the tap. He could feel the fridge watching him. Lurking behind him. Waiting for him to turn to face it. Ianto took a mouthful and willed the liquid down. His shaking hands let the glass slip, but before his reflexes could catch it, the glass shattered over the sink. The shards had sliced the palm of the hand he'd tried to catch it with, and blood drizzled out from the few gashes. Ianto stared at the blood. Bleeding. They were going to bleed him...before they carved him up.

Ianto couldn't breathe. He kept trying to breathe in, but no more air would get into his lungs. Still, he tried profusely. He couldn't even feel the pain in his hand. His knees buckled and he crumpled to the floor, also not feeling the thud. He saw the blood from his hand smear down the cupboard door and across the floor where he'd landed. Images flashed through his mind of meat hanging, blood everywhere, and he vomited the bile from his stomach onto the kitchen floor. He still couldn't breathe. He curled into himself in the corner on the floor, and dialled Jack. Ianto didn't even care what his boss thought of him.

Jack stirred at the noise. He'd dropped asleep at his desk, drooling enough that the papers on it were now stuck to his face as he sat up. He swiped up the phone and, without looking who was dialling, answered.

"Ianto?"

Jack heard ragged breathing, gasping for air, and a squeak. Jack had a quick look at the caller ID, and it was indeed Ianto's number.

"Ianto what's wrong? What's happened?"

Jack's inquiry was met with a truncated sob, cut off with more gasping. Wasting no time, Jack grabbed his coat and walked out the door.

"Ianto, I'm coming. It's going to be alright. Just listen to me, ok? You don't have to talk, just stay on the line. Can you do that?"

A shaking Ianto nodded on the other end of the line. He felt like he was going to cry more, the tears were definitely falling, but he felt like he couldn't draw enough breath. He was feeling dizzy already.

"Ianto, I'll be about 10 minutes. I'm sorry I left you there. I thought you wanted space. I'm sorry." Jack pleaded while he got in the car. Technically it was 20 minutes to Ianto's, but Jack figured that it was early morning and, in emergencies, road rules were more guidelines than actual rules.

Jack pulled to a stop outside Ianto's door. He left his car on the road, but figured that cars could get around easy enough so the could just complain. He hopped up the steps and banged hard on the door.

"Ianto, it's me."

Jack listened to the noise on the phone line. He could still hear the soft gentle sobs, but there was no movement to let him in. He grabbed his keys from his pocket, and found the pink one that was Ianto's. He let himself in, leaving the door ajar, and searched the house. All the lights were on in every room downstairs, but upstairs looked dark. He hung up the call, and shouted out for Ianto. Moving into the lounge, he could hear noises getting closer. Jack approached the kitchen, and saw Ianto curled up in the corner of the bench on the kitchen floor. Jack was stunned at the initial sight: glass shards scattered about, a small pool of vomit on the floor, and blood smeared over the cupboard, the floor, and Ianto who was sobbing gently to himself amidst harsh breaths.

"Ianto, I'm here. What happened?" Jack asked softly as he knelt down beside Ianto. Jack carefully took Ianto's hand and inspected the wound. It was fairly deep, and continued to seep blood over the floor and Ianto's clothes. He was fairly certain it was accidental, it had small glass shards on the edges stuck to the blood.

Ianto didn't really register what was going on. He didn't hear Jack come in, or talk to him, but did notice his hand being taken away. With frightened eyes, he looked up at the Captain.
"Jack..." he whispered, and shuffled to move into what he hoped would be a hug. Jack embraced him, rocking him back and forth slowly, chin rested on his head.

"It's ok my love, it's ok. I'm sorry. I'm here now." Jack soothed. Ianto calmed down at his words, eventually stopping shaking. Knowing Ianto needed medical attention, he thought it was best that he took him back to the Hub. He didn't want to risk A&E doctors noticing, and acting on, his state of mind right now. It's not like Ianto could tell them what happened anyway. Jack carefully lifted him up and guided him out the door and into the SUV. He'd worry about the mess later, it wasn't going anywhere.