Jack looked over the railing down into the autopsy room. That's all it ever seemed to get used for. Never to save someone, never to heal any body, always to examine the dead. Just the occasional person was saved in there. This was accepted. It was an autopsy room and seeing dead bodies here was custom. However, tonight, it was different. Tonight, it wasn't an alien lying there. It wasn't a stranger from the streets. No, tonight it wasn't an anonymous being lying on the cold steel table.

Tonight it was Ianto.

The whole group was watching glumly from various areas around the room, but only Owen moved on the floor around the table. He was searching various drawers and cabinets for his autopsy tools, but even he moved slowly, almost reluctantly. Though he hadn't been known for his fondness of Ianto, it pained him to see his co-worker on his dissecting table. Part of his emotion was actually sorrow from losing the tea boy, but the other was a realization Owen had come to after seeing Ianto die before his very eyes; they all seemed to have forgotten that they were bound by the same rules as every other mortal. Only Jack could forget this because the rules of death no longer applied to him. Lucky bastard.

It wasn't until Owen finally found his kit and had rolled it out on the wheeled tray that anyone dared speech.

"Touch the scalpel and die," Jack said suddenly, his voice low and somber.

Owen's hand stopped, hovering just over the silver instrument. He looked up to Jack, who was leaning on the rail with his head lowered. "What?"

"Touch the scalpel, even think about touching the scalpel, and I will kill you."

"Jack, we need to do an autopsy," Martha piped up from the left concrete steps.

"Why? Why do we really need an autopsy when we all saw how he died?" Jack's head raised only a little.

"It's procedure Jack," Owen supplied. "It's the way we've always done it."

"Screw it!" Jack's head suddenly snapped up. "No one will touch him! Not until I say, got it?" A stern finger was shaken at Owen. "He is not to be cut open! Understand?"

"Why does it matter? He's going to have to be cut open eventually."

"Not. Yet," the look in Jack's eyes startled everyone, showing a conflict of pain and anger.
"Okay Jack, okay," Owen raised his hands in the air, stepping away from the tray.

"Show some respect," Jack growled, pushing off the rail. "It could've been you, after all."

The others looked uneasily at each other as Jack ascended the stairs and went into his office, closing the door with extra force. Walking to the glass windows, he slammed his fist on the metal frame, rattling the big windows several times, each a little weaker before finally resting his forearm across the glass and setting his forehead on it.

His anger dissipated into grief, his shoulders sagging. He wanted to cry. He felt the emotion, but the tears wouldn't come. He should've known this would happen. He knew that Ianto would die eventually. Everyone he ever cared about had and everyone he ever would care about had and will die, and he knew all this. He questioned why he even let himself fall for someone again. All it ever brought him was pain in the end.

He sighed, walking over to his office chair and sitting down in it heavily. His eyes roved around his office, thinking of how cold it seemed now. He couldn't help but feel alone and isolated. Everyone else was sad as well, but the death didn't mean as much to them. Ianto was more than just a co-worker to Jack.

His eyes trailed down to his desk, seeing the various papers and objects scattered about. Typed reports, all with organizational information hand-written in the upper right corner. Ianto's hand writing. There were a few hand-written official papers as well, but they would be typed eventually. Jack's eyes fell on some hand written notes, most from the others requesting various supplies or notes for someone who called for him. He picked up one yellow sticky note, looking at Ianto's scrawl. On official things, Ianto always had such neat hand writing, but when he was just writing a quick note, it turned out very messy. On any other day, Jack would've found Ianto's note asking for more paper clips and ink pens humorous. As Jack recalled, Ianto was trying to get out of the Hub quickly that day. There was a movie in theaters he had wanted to see and was already running late. Any other day, Jack would've smiled. But today, it just made his heart ache more.

He shifted a few papers, collecting them and neatly stacking them together. A small gleam of tarnished silver from underneath some papers attracted Jack's attention. Pushing the papers out of the way, he saw what it was.

With a lost look in his eyes, Jack picked up the object. It was Ianto's stopwatch. Old, tarnished, the silver was barely shining anymore and the faceplate had shifted and yellowed with time. The metal was smooth and cool in his hand, well used and well-loved. He had asked Ianto on one occasion about where he got the stopwatch from, and why he carried it around. Ianto stated that his father had given it to him. Shortly after, his father had died. Ianto had only been thirteen when it had happened.

He clicked the button on the top, starting the ticking of the clock. How many times had he heard that sound for various things? And now, it seemed so far away.

Jack's mind began to wander back to earlier times.

"By the way! Love the coat," Ianto called as Jack walked away, heaving the Weevil around his neck.

Jack never paused. He only shook his head as he continued to walk.

Jack weakly smiled. As far as first impressions go, Ianto's hadn't been that bad. Maybe a little pushy, but he knew what he was doing, and he complimented Jack. That always scored points in his book. He had often wondered if Ianto knew this, had heard stories and all. Still, whether he had or hadn't, Ianto knew that a little flattery could help.

"Look, you checked me out," Ianto stopped Jack's progression again.

"You knew what a Weevil was," Jack stated. "Thought I was gonna have to come deal with you."

"But instead you can see I have the right qualifications for the job."

"There is no job! We're nothing to do with Torchwood London. I severed all links."

"Yeah, well it burnt!" Ianto called as Jack pushed forward and started walking again. "Two members of your team scavenged the ruins," Ianto stopped Jack again, standing in front of him.

"Don't want the equipment getting into the wrong hands," Jack removed Ianto's hand.

"And you're the right hands are you?" Ianto paused. "Trial period. Three months."

"No," Jack shook his head.

"Three weeks," he paused. "Three days!" he offered when he saw Jack's expression didn't change. "Let me prove myself to you. I'll work for nothing!"

"No," Jack pushed past Ianto again.

"I saw what they did at Canary Wharf!" Ianto stopped Jack again, pressing on despite the angry sigh Jack gave him. "What am I supposed to do with those memories?"

"You are not my responsibility," Jack stated loudly. "And we're not hiring."

"Same time tomorrow then?" Ianto called as he watched Jack walk away.

"There is no job for you here and there never will be."

"Okay this has to stop," Jack stated crossly as he walked towards Ianto.

Ianto's eyes squinted in the bright headlights of the car, but he never backed down. "No, listen to me."

"I don't have time for this!" Jack pointed a finger at the man as he came closer and stood in front of the car with him. "Look, I don't care what you're problem is, I want you out of the city by sun rise. There is no place for you here! Go back to London, find yourself another life. Keep stalking me, I'll wipe your memory!"

"No, but the thing is if-"

"Look, any conversation between us, no matter what the subject, is over! Finished! Done! Forever! I'm getting back behind the wheel of that car. If you're still standing in the road, I'm gonna drive through you."

With that, Jack started back to the car. But then Ianto said something that surprised him.

"So you're not going to help me catch this pterodactyl then?"

Jack couldn't help but chuckle a little at the memories of his first introductions to Ianto Jones. He had been annoyed, at the time, but also partially impressed. Of course, the thing that annoyed him and impressed him were one in the same. He was amazed by how persistent Ianto was. He really didn't think Ianto had it in him to continually badger some one until he was accepted, but that was one of the reasons Jack let him in. He did have a backbone buried somewhere in there.

"And this is Ianto Jones. Ianto cleans up after us and gets us everywhere on time," Jack turned to Ianto, who smiled as he was introduced.

Ianto politely bowed his head. "I try my best."

"And he looks good in his suit."

"Careful," Ianto called as Jack walked past. "That's harassment, sir."

Ah, yes. Gwen's first introduction to Torchwood. It hadn't been all that long since Ianto had joined. Jack found it a little funny that Ianto was working for them doing just what he had said. Shop keeper, food fetcher, coffee brewer, cleaning up messes and all those kinds of things. A butler is what he was, really. A butler who knew how to shoot a gun. The young man had been good to his word. Jack had never regretted letting Ianto join him after he saw he was a good worker.

Well, hadn't regretted it until tonight.

Ianto was so lost and confused, barely noticing he was walking. He had a dazed look about him, but Jack never looked to notice. He just gave Toshiko orders and after lying Owen down, put his hand on Ianto's shoulder to keep him from walking away.

"On your knees," Jack commanded Ianto, turning him around, forcing Ianto to his knees and effectively bringing him back to reality. "Hands above your head!"

Ianto never looked up at Jack as he obeyed, raising his arms and putting his hands submissively on the back of his head. He didn't need to look up to know the barrel of Jack's Webley was mere inches away from his forehead. He was fighting back emotions as he knelt down before their leader.

"Jack, for God's sake, what are you doing?" Toshiko cried, flashing her flashlight to see Jack's face.

"Tosh! I gave you an order!" Jack cried, never moving. After a pause, he barked out "Gwen, help her!"

Toshiko obeyed, seeing that this was not the time to question Jack. She turned her attention to the structure behind Jack, though she kept glancing at the two men.

"Did you know that thing was down there?" Jack asked, his voice only slightly calmer.

"I put her there," Ianto replied, his voice unwavering.

"You hid a Cyberman within Torchwood?" Jack's voice was quivering with anger as he pulled Ianto's head to the side, grabbing a hold of the short hair. With the other hand, he pressed the end of the gun on Ianto's temple. "And you didn't tell us? What else are you keeping from us?!"

"Like you care," Ianto spoke, his voice showing he was near his breaking point. Jack let go and backed away, lowering his gun a little. "I clean up your shit," Ianto nearly sobbed as he held his hands on his head, staying on his knees and looking up to Jack. "No questions asked and that's the way you like it. When did you last ask me anything about my life?"

Jack angrily disengaged and lowered his gun in one fluid movement.

Jack hung his head. That was the darkest moment in Torchwood, he thought. The group had been through a lot by then. Aliens of all kinds, death of a comrade, but betrayal was the worst. And not only that, it was betrayal by the one person he thought was more loyal than any body else. Ianto was right though. They thought they knew him, everyone did, but the truth was that no one knew him. Jack had read that Ianto had been with someone a while back, but when they met for the second time, Ianto had stated she was dead. Jack supposed that she might as well have been.

Jack shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. He remembered vividly that night. That terrifying, awful night. The night that everything changed. Ianto had become more than just a tea boy and butler. He was a human being with feelings and emotions. Jack really hadn't wanted to shoot Ianto, though he had been completely prepared to do so. For what he had done, that's what Ianto really deserved. But Jack couldn't bring himself to pull the trigger without giving Ianto a second, or third, chance. He didn't want that kind of reputation.

"If you're interested, I've still got that stopwatch," Ianto stated, seeing Jack's face.

Jack looked at him with a puzzled expression. "So?"

"Well, think about it. Lots of things you can do with a stopwatch," Ianto stated plainly, smiling a little.

Jack paused, and chuckled as a smile came over his face. "Oh yeah. I can think of a few."

"There's quite a list."

"I'll send the others home early. See you in my office in ten," he held up his wrist to look at his watch.

"That's ten minutes," Ianto pulled the tarnished, sliver stopwatch out of his pocket, "and counting," he pressed the button on the top to start it.

Jack pushed off the doors and began to walk away while Ianto crossed to the other side of Suzie's body. But then he turned to look at Jack.

"Oh Jack!" he called, causing Jack to stop and turn back to look at him. "What do you want me to say on the death certificate?"

Jack thought about this, looking down. "Good question."

"She had quite a few deaths in the end."

"I dunno," he paused as he thought. And then he looked seriously back at Ianto again. "Death by Torchwood."

There was another moment of silence.

"I'll put a lock on the door just in case she goes walking again," Ianto offered.

"Nah," Jack shook his head. "No chance of that. The resurrection days are over thank God."

He turned and started to walk away again.

"Well, I wouldn't be too sure," Ianto called, though he was looking down at the clipboard he held in his hands. "That's the thing about gloves, sir," he looked up and watched Jack stop. "They come in pairs."

Jack perked a little.

That was true. He remembered Ianto stating that about the last Resurrection Gauntlet, the one they had destroyed when it nearly killed Gwen. He wasn't sure if it was accurate for this glove. Technically, it wasn't an actual glove. It was…well, a gauntlet. They were made in pairs too, usually.

But the nagging thought in his mind crept up, asking if he really wanted to take the risk. It was Ianto, and Ianto's life was worth it to him, worth every chance and risk, but would the others agree? He would give everything to bring his lover back, and yet, he felt the rest of his team wouldn't agree. They didn't have the same relationship with Ianto, naturally.

Of course, the other consideration was that he wasn't even sure a companion gauntlet existed. That would be too much to hope for. He was just caught up in wishful thinking. That's all the other glove was at this point. It was just a symbol of hope that Ianto would walk and talk with the rest of them again, even if it was just a minute or two. That didn't change the fact that Ianto was dead, and he died right before Jack's eyes.

"And I was powerless to save him…" Jack growled to himself.

Something caught Jack's attention. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed something on the corner of the cabinet behind his desk. Swiveling around, he got a good look at it. It was a dark, small leather-bound book with a strap and latch on the side, though it was not fastened. Extra papers stuck out at various intervals and dark tabs marked certain pages. Jack reached out and grabbed the thing, bringing it closer though he didn't need to in order to identify the object.

It was Ianto's diary.

Jack flicked the strap a little, a very weak chuckle coming out of his mouth. "Never could keep the stupid thing closed."

He ran his fingers across the black cover before flipping it open to a random page. He read a little of the entry before flipping to another. Another partial entry read before he continued forward. He did this multiple times, each time sinking his spirits lower and lower. And when he flipped it open to the last, currently blank page, he nearly lost it.

Tucked away in the back, as though it was a forgotten memory, was a single, tattered picture from years ago. It was of Ianto and Lisa. The backdrop was a green, grassy field encased by a healthy forest. They looked to be on a picnic since there was a wicker basket just visible behind Ianto. The pair was smiling, even Ianto. It was a smile Jack had never truly seen on Ianto's face, a true, genuine, happy smile. Lisa was smiling too, teasingly holding her fingers right above Ianto's head as though she was doing bunny ears but got tired.

It hit Jack, as he looked at the picture, just how young Ianto really was. Twenty-five. He had a whole lifetime in front of him, many decades to come, but he was shot down by a revenge-crazy scientist. Ianto was just doing what came naturally: serving and protecting. He had done that right to the end.

A morose smile creased Jack's lips. Even when he was unhappy, Ianto tried so hard to please. Jack had never really noticed how miserable Ianto had been. He had been secretive and it wasn't until he had been working there a while that he saw just how depressed, especially after the half-converted Lisa had been slaughtered. Jack felt he was just starting to see the real Ianto, the Ianto that existed below the depression. He was just starting to break through Ianto's sadness and show him that he can find love again. Or at least, Jack fancied that he was. Still, it was a moot point. He would never really know. Ianto was gone. He couldn't be brought back. The very thought made the small smile he had melt away once again.

"That's the thing about gloves, sir. They come in pairs."

Jack shook his head. That one phrase. That one simple phrase refused to leave him alone. Of all the things he had to be remembering about Ianto and what he said, that would've been Jack's last choice. He admitted that Ianto made a good point, but it didn't matter. And if circumstances weren't going to change, he'd much rather think about other things and better times.

"That's the thing about gloves, sir. They come in pairs."

But mates for gloves got lost all the time. Buried or discarded or destroyed, as they had done with the first gauntlet. Even if there had been one, there's no promise it was still around. Whether it was or wasn't still in existence was a huge factor. He didn't want to go looking after the thing if it no longer existed.

"That's the thing about gloves, sir. They come in pairs."

Besides, he didn't even know where to look. The first one they found was a fluke. A very lucky fluke, though it turned bad, but a fluke nonetheless. It wasn't supposed to happen. He couldn't just track it down, especially if it was dormant. It probably had gone without use since the time of its creation. Otherwise, Torchwood would've picked it up already. It would have no energy signature if it had been inactive that long. That meant he couldn't find it.

Unless…

Jack set the diary down on his desk, springing to his feet and grabbing his military coat as he slipped the stopwatch into his pocket, feeling it drop heavily to the bottom. Racing out the door of his office, he quickly jogged down the steps.

"No one is to touch him until I get back, understand?!" Jack called as he went for the gear door. "If there is even on extra scratch on him, someone will be hurting!" he shot a warning look at Owen, who was sitting in his chair at his computer.

"Wasn't planning on it after the last threat you made," Owen raised his hands and his eyebrows. "But where—"

Jack was out the door the door before Owen could complete his question, leaving the rest of his bewildered staring after him.