Rating: T (R)
Spoilers: Journey's End (Doctor Who), Exit Wounds
A/N: yup, I continued at last!  I don't know exactly where this story is going, but it felt unfinished, so here it is.  A big thank you to everyone who reviewed.  This is for those of you who asked for more.  If anyone has any ideas about where this should be going, please let me know.  As always, enjoy!

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feels like ...

"I meant what I said, about not being up to much."

They were in the bunker under Jack's office, the earlier emotional argument still simmering under the surface, but nonetheless Jack shot Ianto a big smile. The younger man smiled back automatically.

"I know, Jack. I told you, whatever you need."

Jack didn't like the sound of those words, but given their argument, he wasn't going to bring it up. Instead, he moved closer to Ianto, laying a hand on Ianto's hip. "I do want you here." He stared into Ianto's eyes, for a moment feeling helpless, completely at Ianto's mercy of whether or not the other man wanted to stay. "It's been a long day."

Ianto smiled again, that private smile that only Jack got to see. He reached out and slid a hand into Jack's hair, saying, "For me, too. Let's just --" He broke off and looked at his hand in surprise. He held it up for Jack to see, displaying fingers darkened considerably, smudged and dirty. "What happened to you, Jack?"

Jack grimaced, and told him briefly about getting shot by a Dalek and the incinerator.

Ianto paled visibly, his hand gripping Jack's arm unintentionally hard. "You died again," he said hoarsely, "you died again, Jack."

Ianto sounded hurt, disturbed, almost anguished. Jack drew him into his embrace, holding him close, drawing strength from the contact as much as Ianto was. He didn't know how long they stood like that, simply holding on to each other, but eventually Ianto was the first to move away, smiling slightly at Jack and saying, "Come on, we better get that hair of yours washed."

In the shower, Jack marvelled at how used to each other they'd become, moving around each other, anticipating the other's moves. Ianto, very gently and almost tenderly, spread the shampoo through Jack's hair and rinsed out the suds that turned grey, repeating the process until the water ran clear. Jack closed his eyes, strangely comforted by letting someone, letting Ianto, take care of him.

They'd survived a rough patch, were still surviving a rough patch, if tonight was anything to go by. Jack knew he'd asked a lot of Ianto in the last few months, dealing with the new demons that had been haunting him. During the day he'd had enough distractions, forcing himself to hold it together in front of Gwen, to still be the team leader even though he only had half his team. But at night it hadn't been so easy to hide, and Ianto had seen him at his worst a few times, bearing the brunt of Jack's emotional mood swings.

"Let's get you into bed," Ianto said, shaking him from his reverie.

He nodded, even now wanting to retort something flirtatious, and caught Ianto's raised eyebrow at his hesitance. Ianto had been expecting it, and Jack smiled enigmatically, keeping up the mystery.

They both dried off quickly, not bothering with any clothes, making their way from the small bathroom to the bedroom and crawling under the blankets. Jack pulled Ianto close against him, and Ianto draped himself half over his body, hooking one leg around Jack's, curling an arm around Jack's waist and making himself comfortable on Jack's shoulder. Tonight Jack wouldn't protest, needing the closeness and the assurance it brought.

The last 36 hours had not only taken a toll on Jack, but on Ianto as well, and as soon as he was warmly ensconced his eyes started to slide shut, and he soon drifted off to sleep. Jack closed his eyes as well, trying very hard to will all the whirling thoughts of the last 36 hours, and the last few months, years, decades, centuries, from his mind, but sleep was not so easy.

An hour later, he found himself still staring into the darkness. Ianto shifted on his chest, withdrew the arm that was stretched over Jack's midriff, lifted his head and rubbed at his eyes. For a moment, Jack found himself thinking how adorable that gesture was, how young Ianto looked, and almost leaned in to kiss him on the forehead.

"You can't sleep," Ianto stated, craning his neck to be able to look at Jack.

Jack nodded. "Too many things to think about." Ianto only looked at him for a while. Eventually Jack continued, "I'm sorry for leaving the way I did."

Ianto shook his head. "No, don't apologise. I've no right asking anything of you."

Jack brushed that aside. "I shouldn't have left the way I did. They would have found you, I left you defenceless, I shouldn't have done it."

Ianto cut his eyes away, dropping his gaze to Jack's chest instead. "What you need to do, was more important," he said, something in his voice that Jack couldn't quite identify.

Jack narrowed his eyes slightly. "What aren't you telling me, Ianto?"

Ianto looked back at him again, a small spark of trepidation in his eyes as if he was about to confess something. "They did find us. There's something you don't know yet, something Tosh did."

Jack tensed automatically at Tosh's name, then forced himself to relax. "What did she do?"

Ianto told him, about the time lock, the Dalek, and the saucer above the bay.

Jack felt his blood run cold. "You did what?" He sat up fully in bed, dislodging Ianto from where he'd been lying comfortably. "You let me take the only weapon out of the hub that could have saved both your lives? You knew before I left, you thought -- I was gonna come back to --"

He found himself without something to say for the first time in a long time. Contemplating the possibility of, instead of returning victorious and finding his team there, returning to find both of them dead; Gwen, Ianto, his beautiful Ianto, dead at the hands of a Dalek; his team sacrificing themselves for his peace of mind. He found he couldn't contemplate it, it made him feel sick. He rolled out of bed and stumbled blindly into the bathroom, throwing up the meagre contents of his stomach. He rinsed his mouth and took a sip of water, noticing that his hands were trembling.

When he went back into the bedroom, Ianto was looking at him with a mixture of concern and remorse on his face. Jack held up a hand to forestall him, catching his breath and digesting what he'd just been told. He was angry, but he couldn't really blame them. They were both so young, so willing to sacrifice themselves. It made him shudder to think of their mortality.

"I'm sorry," Ianto offered.

Jack shook his head. "The world was ending," he said, putting more conviction in his words than he felt. "You did what you thought was best. I'm not sure that it should have gone any other way."

They were silent for a moment. Ianto said, "Come back to bed, Jack."

He went back reluctantly, seriously considering not attempting sleep again, but still feeling exhausted, he decided working through the night tonight would not be an option. He settled back into the small bed. Ianto seemed reluctant to scoot over to him again, but Jack wanted him near now more than ever, knowing how close he had come to losing the young man. He reached out and coaxed him closer, and Ianto slid over gratefully, settling back on Jack's chest again.