Major spoiler alert for season 2, episode 5. Familiarity with the episode is assumed — this is intended to expand upon and fill in gaps in the story, not reiterate it in its entirety. This fic will follow the episode 'Adam' from Jack's perspective, beginning just after Adam implants the false memories in Ianto's mind. It all belongs to BBC and RTD; I just wanted to get into Jack's character some more. Cheers.

ver·i·si·mil·i·tude: n (formal): the appearance of being true or real; something that only appears to be true or real

The Hub was mostly dark, painted with ghostly shadows from the sleeping computers. Jack strode toward his office, uneager to linger here when he had enough ghosts in his own head.

"Jack…"

For a moment he froze. He whirled around, then let out a relieved sigh. "Ianto," he half-laughed, chiding himself for being paranoid, jumping at shadows. He forced himself to relax as he descended the stairs again. But Ianto didn't meet him, just sat there leaning back against the metal railing behind his workstation.

"Hey," Jack began, concern creeping up on him again. Ianto looked almost sick. "What's wrong?"

For a moment the young man didn't respond. Then he looked up at Jack and his blank expression crumbled. "You have to put me in the vaults," he said — his voice level and calm, except that he sounded hoarse, like he'd been crying, was trying now not to break down. "Lock me up." Jack stared at him, uncomprehending, and then Ianto dropped a bombshell. "I killed three girls." He sniffed a little. "Strangled them."

This would be freaking Jack out even if he weren't already on a hair trigger. "Stop kidding around," he said seriously.

Ianto looked up at him, eyes glittering strangely with the reflections in the Hub. "I'm serious. I murdered them in cold blood." He sounded calm, almost detached now, and Jack could only stare at him, lost. "I took their bodies… and…"

Suddenly he shot to his feet, jerking and looking around wildly. Jack instinctively took a step back, watching him warily. Okay, he thought grimly. Definitely something wrong here… other than the obvious. It had to be some kind of outside influence making Ianto say he'd killed someone. Maybe something he'd uncovered in the Archives?

The young man was staring at Jack again, seeing him and trembling. "You have to lock me away," he ordered. His gaze flicked away from Jack. "Before I turn on you…" he started to brush past Jack, heading for the hallway to the vaults. "None of your are safe!"

Jack sprang after him. "Hey." He grabbed onto Ianto's arm. "Hey! Come here!" Ianto struggled with him, forcing Jack to grab his shoulders tightly. "Come here!" he almost shouted, holding fast. Ianto stopped struggling and just looked at him, his whole body shaking under Jack's hands. "What's happened to you?" Jack asked gently, searching Ianto's face up close now. He saw no deception there — only desperate guilt and helpless fear and vulnerability. Some of that same fear ran cold fingers down Jack's spine, and he drew Ianto into his arms. Something is so wrong here, he thought, cupping the back of Ianto's head in an instinctively protective gesture. He ran his fingers through the young man's dark hair in tiny, soothing movements, but the tension in the body against his didn't ease. Instead he felt Ianto shudder against him, and then his lips brushed Jack's ear.

"I'm a monster."

Jack held them very still for a moment. Only when he felt a cold teardrop slide down his neck did he pull back, grasping Ianto's arms. "No," he said firmly. "No, you are not. Ianto, look at me," he ordered. He waited until blue eyes met blue. "You are not," he insisted, giving Ianto a little shake to emphasize his words. He let go of the young man's arms and rested his hands on his shoulders.

"But I remember it," Ianto insisted, dropping his eyes from Jack's. His fingers tugged gently at the edges of Jack's greatcoat.

"Hey." Jack pulled him closer again. "This can't be true. Come on, I'll prove it."

He pulled Ianto along into his office and sat him down in the chair in front of Jack's desk. He gave his shoulder one more reassuring squeeze before he crossed the room and opened up the safe.

"Aha," he muttered to himself, pulling out a black case stamped with both the Torchwood and UNIT logos.

"What is that?" Ianto asked quietly as Jack rolled up his sleeves to place sensors inside his arms.

Jack looked up at his lover. "Hey." He reached up to place his hands on either side of Ianto's face. Ianto met his gaze, biting anxiously on his lower lip. "Do you trust me?" Jack asked softly, teasing his lip free of his teeth. "Ianto, I wouldn't hurt you, I swear." He ran one hand over Ianto's hair, slightly reassured when Ianto leaned into his touch. "This is not a mind probe or anything that will cause you pain, I promise. I'm just going to need you to talk — just tell me the full story, that's all." He leaned forward and dropped a small kiss on the tip of Ianto's nose. "You okay with this?"

Ianto gave a shallow nod. "I—I trust you," he murmured.

Jack kissed him again, briefly. "Okay." He stood and stepped back behind his desk. "Best lie detector on the planet," he explained as he assembled it. "If something's untrue, the light turns red." A green glow lit up the machine. Jack looked across at Ianto. "Go."

For a moment Ianto just stared at the machine, starting to breathe harder. "My hands…" he began haltingly, "around her throat…" Jack frowned at the green light. C'mon, turn red. That can't be true. He glanced up in time to see an unrecognizable expression distort Ianto's features. "It felt so good," he hissed to Jack's alarm. "Squeezing the life out of her…"

The green light reflected off of his face. Jack pressed his fingers hard against his mouth.

"It reads as truth," Ianto pointed out shakily, in a very different voice.

Jack looked up at him. "I don't believe it," he replied fiercely, holding Ianto's eyes so that neither of them would keep looking at the damning green light. It isn't true. It's just taking the machine a while to warm up — it's been in storage for how many years? "Okay," Jack said firmly, "tell me about the second girl."

Ianto dropped his gaze from Jack's staring at the lie-detector again, still flashing bright green. He whimpered softly. "She tried to get away," he said, his voice breaking as a tear spilled onto his cheek. Then his fingers clenched and his voice changed again, dropping to a deeper register which frightened Jack. This can't be happening. "But I was too quick," Ianto hissed viciously. "Pleading… and I—" his voice broke again, another tear sliding free. "I didn't care!" He shuddered violently, his eyes fixed miserably on the green light. "Something in me wants to kill…"

That was enough for Jack. "No," he denied, shaking his head. "This is not you." He knew Ianto Jones — knew him better than anyone else, and there was nothing in this man that would lead him to kill someone innocent, someone he risked his life every single day to protect from the Rift. That was not the Ianto Jack knew and… and worked with, and laughed with, and confided in, and yes, damn it, loved. This wasn't him, and Jack knew that. Little green light be damned, he knew Ianto Jones.

Abruptly he pulled the plug on the lie detector and stood up. "Something's changed you," he declared, striding around his desk. "You're not a murderer — I'm certain of it!"

Jack squeezed Ianto's shoulder as he passed, heading for the computers — only to be brought up short by a quiet, "How can you be so sure?"

Jack turned back. Ianto had folded over on himself, hiding his face in his hands. Jack knelt in front of him and grasped his wrists gently. "Because I know you," he said firmly. "And because this is the first you've spoken of it. When do you remember killing those girls? Was it tonight?"

Ianto shook his head slowly, dazedly. "No… um… I'm not sure…"

"See?" Jack persisted. He placed his hands around Ianto's face. "When has your memory let you down like that?" Ianto didn't look convinced, and Jack pressed a kiss to his forehead. "And because you are not that kind of person," he insisted in a low voice. "Ianto, think about this — you just started remembering this tonight, and you came and told me. This is something you can't live with. You would not have done it."

Ianto was still shaking, and Jack stroked his hair tenderly. "I do not believe that you could murder someone in cold blood," he stated, willing his confidence into his young lover. "And I think that something has gone wrong—" he shook his head and stood, tilting Ianto's face up to maintain eye contact. "Something's going wrong with our memories: Gwen forgetting Rhys, memories I buried long ago, false memories that you never made…" He pulled Ianto to his feet, looking grim. "Something's sabotaging us, and it must have started…" he paced back toward the computers, pulling up the internal CCTV. "I don't know. But we can start with what happened to you between when I dropped you off and when I got back," he muttered, mostly to himself. He scrolled through the work hours, selecting the timestamp marked just hour earlier.

"All human record is a lie," Adam's voice burst from the speakers, silky sweet and calm. The shaky images resolved into two figures in the darkened Hub, one scrambling frantically away from the other. "You crave flesh," Adam insisted. He lunged forward, his fingers grasping at Ianto's face. "Remember this!"

Jack watched, horrified, as Ianto screamed. Adam's fingers dug into his skin, pressing painfully as he hissed, "remember it!"

Jack remembered. He remembered Adam's hand reaching for his shoulder just an hour ago, his voice saying in confusion "Well I came with you, Jack, remember?" And then he had.

Other timestamps, from earlier in the day, back through Adam touching Toshiko, seeing them kiss — when had that happened? — seeing Gwen arrive late in the morning, seeing the smile fall from her face — "who the hell is this?" — until Adam touched her shoulder, and then she grinned and they hugged, and then Gwen had forgotten she had a boyfriend…

Remember — remember — remember —

Jack whirled toward Ianto. "C'mere," he said, grasping Ianto's wrist when the younger man protested. "Come here," Jack repeated, pulling Ianto in front of the computers. "Just look. Look," he insisted, pointing toward the first video, from an hour ago: Adam's fingers digging into Ianto's temples, Ianto shaking and screaming. He was shaking again, now. Jack smoothed his hands over the young man's shoulders, a strange feeling bubbling up in him. Still confused, but now they were getting somewhere. Ianto's first thoughts on those supposed murders had appeared just after Adam had… what? What the hell was Adam doing?

"Remember it — remember it — remember it!"

Jack hit the keyboard to shut him up. "You didn't do anything," he exclaimed triumphantly. "Something's wrong here, and Adam's the key. What the hell is going on?"

Ianto took in a shuddering breath. "Jack…" he turned and met the Captain's eyes. "How can Adam be doing that? Messing with memories… and why now, after all this time? D'you think he's possessed or something?"

Jack stared at him. "All this time," he repeated slowly. He shook his head. "No… Gwen said it this morning. I'm starting to think that I can't trust any of my memories of Adam… all three years' worth of them." He looked down at the desk, frowning at the items. A couple books, some pens, a few small artifacts and trinkets. Nothing struck him as Adam's. He let go of Ianto and crossed to Gwen's station. She always kept pictures of the team in the clutter around her… yet he couldn't see a redhead.

"Where's Adam in the pictures?" Jack called back to Ianto. "He's not in any of them, not a single one."

"So he… takes them, doesn't he?" Ianto answered distractedly.

"Or he's never been here before," Jack growled. "Two days ago we logged a Rift spike, but nothing was reported to have come through. What if something did — but we ended up thinking it's been here for a long time?" Another idea struck him, and he raced down the steps into Owen's work area. He yanked open the fridge and pulled out a container of dark red vials. He held it up and scanned the names. Sato, Toshiko; Harper, Owen; Cooper, Gwen; Ianto Jones — that must be one that Owen labeled himself instead of having Ianto do them — except Owen's always so precise, so neat — except that's so unlike Owen…

He shook it off as something else weird. "Where's Adam's blood sample?" he called up to Ianto. He took one more look before he set it aside and bounded back up the stairs to Ianto. He was buzzing, excited and furious, absolutely livid that someone was messing with his mind, with his team, with Ianto — but part of him still insisted that Adam was a teammate, that Jack had recruited him three years ago.

That part was rapidly growing quieter and weaker, though.

Ianto pulled up Adam's personnel file on the computer. It, at least, looked the same as everyone else's, but…

"Everything's in order here," Ianto pointed out.

"When was it last updated?" Jack countered.

"Uh…" Ianto tapped a few keys, then froze. "Twenty-four hours ago."

Jack drew in a deep breath — and then the cog wheel door rolled back with all its fanfare. Hurriedly Ianto cleared the computer screen and stood up — Jack grabbed the nearest book and opened it to a random page. He looked up in time to see Owen peering at the two of them from behind an enormous bouquet of white flowers.

Ianto turned to look at Jack, his eyes startled and confused. Jack met his gaze for a second before the archivist turned and hurried away. Owen set the flowers on Tosh's desk and went down into his bay without meeting Jack's eyes. For a moment the Captain stood there, an unknown book in his hand. The buzz of adrenaline hadn't left him, but he stood still for a moment, breathing deeply. It was later than he'd realized. The rest of the team would be in soon… including Adam, whatever that meant.

The door rolled back again, allowing Toshiko and the redhead to enter together. Jack retreated to his office, where he watched Owen approach Toshiko over the flowers. Though he couldn't hear, the conversation seemed awkward, but sincere; it ended with Owen's shoulders slumping dejectedly when Tosh turned away from him, sticking the card rather carelessly back into the huge bouquet of flowers.

Wrong. Somehow, something about that is wrong.

Jack crossed his arms, watching through narrowed eyes as his team gathered around Gwen, asking about Rhys, about her memories. Jack pressed his fist against his lips, staring at them. Memory was the key to this whole thing. Somehow, their memories had been tampered with—

Not somehow, Jack reminded himself sharply. Someone. He narrowed his eyes at the redhead in the middle of the team hug. Touching Tosh and Owen and Gwen. Ianto skirted around them, eyes flicking briefly toward Jack. The CCTV from last night had showed Adam, his fingers digging painfully into Ianto's skin, touching him as Ianto screamed…

Jack closed his eyes, picturing his team. Owen and Toshiko — two brilliant, shattered people Jack had saved, had gathered to him and practically adopted. He saw the shy glances between them, wished that they would find a little bit of happiness in each other, knew that they could if they would just see...

Gwen — Gwen Cooper, what an incredible stroke of luck for Torchwood. Jack almost smiled, knowing that it had been stubbornness, not luck — that utter implacability sometimes clashed with his own, but he loved her fire, her determination to succeed and protect people, her sheer will forcing things to be right.

And Ianto… well, Ianto was special. Irreplaceable, no matter what he assumed. Broken in a way that had always called out to Jack, and still strong and beautiful despite — or maybe because of it. Oddly enough, it had taken Ianto's betrayal — that whole awful business with Lisa — to make Jack see that the young man had the most incredible capacity for loyalty and love that Jack had ever come across. Jack had spent a lot of time trying to be worthy of it.

Then he came to Adam. Adam was there, in his memories, three years worth of memories. Jack could remember recruiting Adam from the government, because he was wasted there — he could remember training him, becoming friends with him. He remembered introducing Adam to Tosh and Owen, remembered having him show Ianto around the Archives, pairing him up with Gwen on so many missions because they made a great team…

He remembered all of these things. But he didn't feel a single one of them.

His memories of Adam weren't steeped in emotion they way the rest of them were. He felt so much pride, so much love, when he thought of his people: his Toshiko, Owen, Ianto, Gwen. They had their faults — they all had faults, Jack included, and they were as dysfunctional as any family sometimes, but they were his family, and he'd protect them at any cost.

Even from their own memories.

~to be continued~

The episode 'Adam' has always been one of my personal favorites. The characters become absolutely fascinating. Unfortunately, what with the whole Retcon thing, it's rather difficult to write a reaction piece. (Though not impossible: if anyone's interested, toddle over to Archive of Our Own or livejournal and look for the fic 'Amerauder' by thraceadams. Absolutely amazing.) Since I see nothing at all wrong with the episode except that it's only fifty minutes long, I wanted to just do a gap-filler beginning with the really angsty stuff. I was absolutely floored and very touched by Jack's total faith in Ianto in this episode, and I also loved the insight into all the characters. Plus, I felt like getting back into Jack's headspace after what feels like an age away from fanfiction.

The final result is somewhere around 10,000 words — it'll be posted as I go along tweaking and finishing. Please feel free to review or PM me anything you have to say about it - even if you disagree about my interpretation, don't worry and leave a guest review. I won't bite - I'd genuinely like to discuss other peoples' views on the subject. For now, I just hope someone enjoys reading this as much as I did writing it. Cheers, all. Good luck reading and writing!