Words: 2663

Subtitle: Migraines are a bitch.

Ianto was in a room somewhere deep in the Archives, crouched against the wall and digging his fists into his forehead. He had shut the lights off soon after he had walked into the room, and the files he had been carrying were lying abandoned, on the cold—he could feel it through his suit—floor, beside him. Ianto groaned quietly and leaned back against the wall, but miscalculated the distance and accidentally banged his head against it. He muttered a swear then gave out a wail of pain, letting his head fall back into his hands, letting the pressure from them try to relieve the pain.

The room itself was fairly small, but quiet, and one of the one ones where the Hub's drain system and massive generators were not heard. Through a thick glaze of pain, Ianto supposed that it was probably the best room to collapse in. Pretty soon, though, those, as well as all other, thoughts left his, as Ianto let an unsteady sleep overtake him.


Owen's hands were slimy from the alien he'd been elbow-deep in not two minutes ago. He loudly and rudely called Tosh over of turn the faucet on for his so he could wash them, which she did while Gwen berated him for his tone. Up above in his office, Jack was yelling at a UNIT general to "not even dare, in this century or any other, set up in Cardiff!" The conversation, as far as Owen, though his own argument with Gwen, could tell, was going in the Captain's favor.

Tosh handed his a towel, which he took with a "Thanks, Love," just as Jack hung up and walked out of his office, no doubt searching for Ianto. The loud, and, frankly, annoying, shout of "Ianto!" only confirmed Owen's thoughts.

"It's time for lunch, kids," Jack announced, grinning in a self-satisfied way. "We can celebrate the fact that UNIT won't be poking its big nose into Cardiff for a couple years at least."

Tosh shared a grateful smile with Jack, which Owen caught, and squeezed her hand in support, for which she thanked him silently.

"Where's Ianto?" Gwen suddenly spoke up, oblivious to the silent half-conversation going on around her. "He should have come up by now."

Tosh, Owen, and Jack had joined Gwen by now, and all four had puzzled looks on their faces.

"Maybe he's hiding another robot there," Owen offered, getting a dirty and terrifying look from Jack and slaps from both Gwen and Tosh for his words. "What? I'm kidding."

"Hell of a joke. Maybe there's an alien in your brain making you say it," Jack's words were a warning, one that made Owen back off and apologize.

"Maybe he's lost," Gwen took her turn and got incredulous looks for her effort. "Any normal person would be."

"Ianto had the layout of the whole Hub memorized," Jack instantly rejected the idea with a touch of pride in his voice.

"Wow," Gwen replied with wide yes, while Owen muttered about not getting his coffee on time and going into withdrawal.

"Is that all you care about?" Jack turned on him angrily. "Old wounds and coffee?"

"Of course not, Jack," Owen's voice turned softer, concern for both him and Ianto showing through.

"We could check the CCTV," Tosh said, interrupting them with the correct feed already up on her computer. "We installed it after. . . well."

"I wonder why he couldn't hear me," Jack said with a concerned frown.

"Maybe he's too deep for the sound to carry," Tosh guessed.

"He's taken his comm out," Gwen observed.

"I'll get him," Owen offered. "No offense, Harkness, but if something is wrong with him, you're too tightly wound around his little finger to help much."

If there were any protests as he walked away, Owen didn't hear them, and let the stairs lead him where he needed to go.


The Archives were christened by Suzie as a "macabre cave of wonders, a maze of boring paperwork and weapons that could end the world" or MCOWAMOBPAWTCETW (pronounced em-cow-amob-paw-tee-see-eht-double-u). And they definitely were that. Until Ianto had come along, it had been impossible to navigate them without a complicated and sometimes inaccurate map, even for Jack, so nobody else bothered to try. Now, though, a clear, Ianto-made map was available at the entrance, which Owen took and followed to where the cameras showed Ianto to be.

The Archives were organized like a warehouse or a filing room. They comprised of dark hallways with identical rooms, each filled with a designated something. Owen wasn't sure of what, nor did he ever want to be sure. That was Ianto's job. Ianto was in one of the paperwork rooms. This was to Owen's benefit, because for huge chunks of time, mostly during various wars or the changing of leaders, there had been no paperwork.

The correct door was closed, just like all the others, and Owen had no qualms about opening it. Just before he could, however, a light crackle sounded in his ear.

"Are you there yet?" Tosh's voice came from his comm.

"Just about to open the door," Owen replied. "Why? Aren't you watching? I thought Gwen wanted to see everything with how nosy she is. And what about Jack?"

"They went to check out a Weevil sighting near a school," Tosh explained. "I'm coordinating, so I've had to shut off my observation. Keep me posted?"

"Or course, Toshie," Owen replied. "Good luck."

"You, too," she said before terminating their connection.

The door creaked as it opened, revealing a dark room. But it was empty. He tried another room, another door. Owen took his penlight out of the pocket of the lab coat he'd forgotten to take off and shone it around, at first, not finding any traces of Ianto.

At the sound of a quiet whimper, Owen returned the light to the corner he'd just directed it at.

"Ianto?" he asked.

"Please turn it off," Ianto replied, still in the same weak voice.

"You alright?" Owen did as he was asked and crouched down onto the floor next to Ianto, who was huddled against the wall.

"Hurts," Ianto said after a few seconds, the word coming out of his mouth with an effort. "Too loud."

"Sorry," Owen lowered his voice to a soft whisper. "What hurts?"

"Head," Ianto's voice hadn't changed, still hollow and dry, consumed by pain. "A lot."

"Anything else?" Owen risked putting a hand on Ianto's shoulder, and kept it there when Ianto minutely shifted towards it.

"I'm going to. . ." Ianto's words slurred, and he swallowed heavily. "Owen. . ."

Owen got the message and quickly looked around and shoved a well-placed nearby trashcan under Ianto's face, just in time for him to empty his breakfast into it.


When Owen and Ianto emerged from the Archives, the latter with closed eyes and pained expression leaning heavily on the former, Tosh was receiving news of a new Weevil tagging and the soon return of Jack and Gwen. She was just about to ask what happened, but Owen fixed her with a gesture to be quiet and deposited Ianto on the couch.

"Turn the lights off," he whispered close to her ear, then, to both her and Ianto, "I'll be back in a few."

Owen after getting the dirty trashcan from the Archives and shoving it into a bathroom, returned to a now darkened Hub with a washcloth, a bottle of water, and one of painkillers. Ianto was still sitting on the couch, but he had slumped sideways, and his head was now nestled in between the cushions.

"Ianto," Tosh said quietly and gently put a hand on his shoulder to get his attention. "Owen's back."

The words got the response of Ianto shifting to face them, his face one of abject misery as the washcloth was placed unceremoniously on his forehead.

"I brought some painkillers," Owen wanted to rattle the bottle for effect, but consideration for Ianto's sensitivity to sound made him settle for just lifting it. "And water."

"Thanks," Ianto said and smiled lightly through a wince of pain. "Any chance I could have some?"

"Yup," Owen unscrewed the bottle and handed it to Ianto, but kept his hands close in case Ianto couldn't hold it, then gave him a cup. "You can spit in here."

"Thanks," Ianto said it so quietly, the word might have been mouthed, but the grateful look accompanying it spoke the volumes it did not as Ianto did as he was told.

Owen counted off four tablet, then handed them to Ianto with a look that said, "Don't argue. I'm your doctor."

"He looks peaceful," Tosh whispered as Ianto slept, his head on Owen's lap, the doctor's cool and steady hand over the washcloth on his forehead.

"Gwen," Owen said suddenly, causing Tosh to look at him in surprise. "When are they coming back?"

"About 15 minutes, why?" Tosh replied, her eyebrows furrowed.

"She's too loud," Owen decided. "Can you tell Jack to drop her off at home? And to come in a quieter way?"

"Of course," Tosh stood up and walked out of hearing range to contact Jack and Gwen.

Ianto shifted in Owen's lap, then mumbled something incoherent before falling asleep again.

That was how Jack found them when he came back. Ianto was asleep on Owen, who was beginning to drift off himself, and Tosh was watching over the two. Upon seeing Jack, she put a finger to her lips, and at his questioning and concerned look, mouthed, "Migraine."

Jack winced in compassion, knowing the pain of migraines only from word of mouth, just as Owen began to stir. He held his breath, thinking that the movement would rouse Ianto, but let it go when it was only Owen who opened his eyes. Owen nodded am acknowledgement to Jack before gently moving Ianto off his lap. Jack slid into his place instead of the pillow Owen was about to put there.

Owen beckoned Tosh aside, where she immediately asked, "What are we going to do?'

"I can't really do much else," Owen shrugged apologetically. "Neither Jack nor Ianto will be that much help for the rest of the day."

"And Gwen's at home," Tosh finished, catching on. "So it's just us."

"I'll make it up to you, I promise," Owen offered, taking hold of her hands. "Take you to dinner."

"Alright," Tosh agreed with an easy smile. "We're just going to have to move them."

"Right," Owen nodded.

He led the way back to the couch, where Jack was running his fingers through Ianto's short hair, a concerned look, seemingly permanently, fixed on the young man's face. When Owen addressed him, Jack's faze didn't shift from Ianto, but he paid attention nonetheless.

"How is he?" Jack wondered.

"He was in pain," Owen reported. "He was sick."

"Is he okay, though?" Jack asked, finally looking at Owen with wide, slightly scared, eyes.

"He's going to be okay, yes," Owen confirmed, feeling sorry for the Captain. "It's just a killer headache on steroids. No loud noises, bright lights, or sudden movements. He's going to be fine. Well, as fine as he ever was, in any case."

Jack looked relieved, both because of Owen's confirmation and because the doctor considered Ianto well enough to joke about, and asked, "Where should we go?"

"You could take him to your bunk," Owen offered, then looked dubious. "But I don't think it'll be big enough to be comfortable."

"Can I take him home?" Jack wondered.

"Sure," Owen nodded. "Just be as gentle as possible about it."


"At least it's a quiet day," Tosh sighed as she added another paper crane to a growing pile.

"The new Weevil is boring," Owen added his crane to the rest. "And we'll only release it next week."

"At least Myfanwy's having fun," Tosh pointed up to where the pterodactyl was flying around.

"Naked chicken has a better day than we do," Owen snorted. "What a life."

"Yeah," Tosh agreed sadly. "Figures that the only calm day is when we're stuck here."

"Not even the Rift is making us miss dinner," Owen stated confidently, then promised, "We'll ignore it."


Jack held a sleeping Ianto, letting the young man bury his face in his shoulder. Even though his eyes were closed, and the fact that he was, for all intents and purposes, dead to the world, Jack could tell that Ianto was not that at peace. Every so often, a light groan or moan would escape his lips, or his face would slightly contract in pain, before resettling back to the calm it had been.

Getting Ianto home had been easy, even though the pain and fatigue had made it hard for him to cooperate. Jack had never seen Ianto so, essentially, helpless. Ianto had lost the ability to interact with his surroundings, and was mainly focused on making Jack's job easier by forcing his body to work. Jack hated seeing his lover in pain, and hoped that it wasn't only the sleep and painkillers that would make Ianto feel better. That it would be him as well.

With these slightly bleak thoughts on his mind, Jack fell asleep, breathing in Ianto.


Ianto woke up before Jack did, still in the older man's embrace. The warmth of their two bodies, as well as that from the blankets that cocooned them, and Ianto felt like basking in the comfort. If it weren't for the small twinges of pain at the base of his skull from moving too much, Ianto would have felt amazing. As it was, he set out to get that feeling by looking at Jack in much the same way that Jack had looked at him.

Jack shifted, sensing a change in Ianto, and opened his eyes, blearily meeting Ianto's equally blue ones. Jack pulled Ianto closer to him, keeping his hands around Ianto as he, in turn, let his head resat on Jack's shoulder.

"How are you feeling?" Jack asked, concerned.

"Good," Ianto smiled, then deciding to keep Jack on the same page as himself, corrected with, "Better."

""How better?" Jack wondered, demanding the truth and confident that he would get it.

"No more pain," Ianto elaborated. "No more elephants doing the macarena in my skull, so long as I don't do anything overly active."

"You up for breakfast?" Jack offered.

"Yeah," Ianto nodded against him, tickling Jack's chin with his hair.


The lights in Ianto's flat were still off, the curtains still closed, from when Jack had tried to make it comfortable for Ianto the previous night. Ianto smiled a "thanks" for the effort and went about his daily ritual. Jack left him to it and went into the kitchen. However, his initial plans of making Ianto a romantic breakfast fell through the roof when he saw how barren the cabinets and refrigerator were.

"Don't you have anything?" Jack asked loudly, grinning, despite himself, at Ianto's competence in the Hub, but complete inadequacy at keeping his own flat habitable.

"I think I have milk," Ianto replied from the bathroom. "Possibly. Might be expired, though."

"You have coffee," Jack muttered to himself, finding the milk, thankfully, not out of date, and reaching into the cupboard. "And a half-empty box of cereal. Ianto, why do you only have cereal?"

"We live on takeout," Ianto explained, joining Jack in the kitchen and hearing his last question. "Go home too late to eat anything, so I only have essential breakfast supplies."

"We're not having this for breakfast," Jack berated. "I'm taking you out."

"Alright," Ianto slightly rolled his eyes, but agreed and went to get his shoes. "But you're not wearing the coat."

Jack pouted, but followed Ianto to the door, where he got dressed as well.

"Wait," he said when Ianto put a hand on the door and grabbed the young man's arm.

"What?" Ianto wondered.

"Forgot to do this when we woke up," Jack explained nonchalantly, before pressing his lips to Ianto's.