Perpetuity
All four of them stood in the doorway, watching as Jack simply stared at the food on his tray.
"I don't want to have to start an IV." Owen shook his head. "Not the way he's been reacting. It wouldn't end well."
"Maybe Abaddon didn't kill him," Ianto said, trying, yet failing to keep the sadness out of his voice, "but he destroyed Jack just the same. Look at him, he helpless. Hopeless. He doesn't even know how to eat anymore."
"Sure he does," Tosh said with the same mock cheeriness she'd had since this nightmare began. "We just have to show him what to do." She made up a plate for herself and brought it into the room. Pulling over a chair, she sat down, being careful to be just far enough away so Jack wouldn't react badly to her presence. "It's been a really long day. I bet you're hungry, I know I am." Moving slowly, she picked up a piece of toast. "Now, some people say that toast is only for breakfast, but you know what? I eat it whenever I can." She took a small bite and chewed it slowly. "I always thought it was interesting, what people will put on toast. Some people will only eat it plain, others like it with a little butter or marmalade." Out of the corner of her eye she saw Jack reach out hesitantly to pick up the piece of toast off of his plate, but Tosh pretended not to notice, continuing to ramble about toast instead. "I even had a friend once who insisted on eating it with ketchup. Can you imagine that? Toast with ketchup?" Jack was mimicking her, his movements unsteady and unsure, but he was eating. "I like mine like this, just a little butter, put on when the toast is hot so it melts in nicely. And you know what goes well with toast? A nice glass of juice." And slowly, ever so slowly, she picked up her glass to take a sip.
Jack made it halfway through his juice and even had a bit of banana before he started visibly flagging. Tosh managed to convince him to lie down for awhile, not an easy feat considering he still wouldn't let her touch him and wouldn't acknowledge her directly, before she finally slipped out of the room.
"You did good, Tosh." Owen patted her shoulder.
"Oh, yeah," Gwen agreed. "I'm sure he's coming around. He'll be back to his old self in no time."
"No time at all," Ianto echoed.
It took three days for the team to admit that they were wrong. They'd managed to get him to the point where he could manage the simplest of tasks if prompted- eating, dressing, using the toilet- but nothing else. He was just a shell of his former self, capable of existing, but nothing more.
As the weeks passed there were no further improvements on the horizon.
"It's been three weeks now." Owen leaned against the desk, letting it take the brunt of his weight. "He's not getting better. I don't think he's going to get better. We're running ourselves ragged trying to take care of him. We can't keep doing this." He scrubbed his face with his hand. "I can't keep doing this." He looked at the others, waiting for their reactions to his admission.
"I... I think you're right." Tosh's gaze fell to the floor. "Jack needs more help than we can give him. Maybe, maybe the right kind of facility could... do more."
"Ianto? Gwen?" Owen asked, "What do you think?"
Ianto shrugged, biting his bottom lip, before quietly admitting, "I made some calls earlier this week. In recognition of," he made invisible quotes in the air, "his century of meritorious service to the Crown, all of Jack's needs and care will be taken care of, in perpetuity if necessary." He sighed. "I did some research, it's a good facility, very good."
"I'm sure it is, sweetie," Gwen said, patting Ianto's shoulder briefly. "And there really isn't another option. We'll get him settled there and visit him all the time and before you know it he'll be back to his old self."
Something between a sob and a laugh tore through Ianto. "We rose up against him. Mutinied and then murdered him. He was still recovering from that when he sacrificed himself to save the world from our stupidity. He was dead for three days, three days, as a result of that. Do you really think he'll ever be back to his old self?" he spit out, mocking Gwen's previous conciliatory tone. "He doesn't smile. He doesn't laugh. He doesn't even make a sound other than that whimper when someone gets too close. He's broken- whether it was what Abaddon did or us, I don't know- but the end result is the same. Jack, our Jack, is gone.
"Ianto," Gwen began, but she trailed off when he turned towards Jack's office.
"I'll put together some of his things. Owen, how long do you think it'll take to get him ready?"
"Better give me at least an hour. I'll call and arrange medical transport."
Ianto paused in the doorway for a moment before nodding and continuing on his way, "the number for the asylum is by my phone."
It was closer to two hours before a dull eyed Jack shuffled his way out the Hub. The four remaining members of Torchwood watched him wordlessly: Tosh sobbed silently from the catwalk, Gwen stood stoically in the doorway to Jack's old office, Owen, fists clenched, leaning against the stairs while Ianto waited at the cog door, signing the final paperwork.
"We'll take good care of him," the nurse said as she took the papers, "like he was one of our own, just as you have been doing."
"Treat him better," Owen said quietly as the cog door rolled shut, "Torchwood's never been too good to their own."