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Chapter 2

The metal of the autopsy table felt cold against Ianto's skin. A shiver traveled down his spine. It was not something that anyone would find particularly relaxing.

"Alright, I'm done for now," Owen said, tossing his gloves into the bin.

Ianto slowly sat up, making sure the room wasn't going to shift beneath him again. Gravity did seem to have something against him lately. He kept his eyes down and avoided Owen's gaze as he slipped his shirt and jacket back on. Too tired to be bothered with his tie and waistcoat, he folded them and placed them under his arm.

He cleared his throat nervously. "Umm … Well, if we're all done here, I'm going to head out. Thank you, Owen." He chanced a look at the doctor and regretted it. Owen's face was hard, and his gaze seemed to see straight through to Ianto's core. He felt exposed, and he wanted more than anything to just disappear.

As he turned to walk toward the stairs, he could feel Owen's eyes burning a hole in the back of his head.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Ianto stopped, turning to look at the doctor in confusion. He hadn't expected to hear anymore from him tonight. "Is there something else?"

Owen let out a dry, humorless laugh. "Did you really think that after I put all that effort into fixing your ass today, I was going to just let you walk out of here and undo all my hard work?"

Ianto hadn't really thought about it until now, but after giving it a moment's consideration, yes, he did indeed believe Owen would let him. The doctor wasn't exactly known for his bedside manner or compassion. Leaving Ianto to go home and recover alone was exactly what he had expected.

Apparently, he had remained silent too long, and Owen felt the need to continue. "As I see it, you have two options. The first, which I'm most partial to, I lock you in a cell until I am sure you are no longer a danger to yourself."

Ianto felt his face blanch at the suggestion. Seeing this reaction, Owen smiled smugly.

"Or two," he continued. "You come home with me where I can keep an eye on you."

"E-excuse me?" The suggestion hit Ianto so hard he choked.

"You," he said slowly, pointing at Ianto, "come home with me." He then pointed at himself.

"I can't trust you to remember eat, sleep, or not harm yourself. So, those are the options. You either come home with me where I can keep an eye on you, or you go in a cell."

"For how long?"

Owen's brow furrowed as he walked up to Ianto, poking a finger into his chest. "Until I decide otherwise."

Ianto swallowed hard. The reality of the situation began sinking in. The simple act of breathing suddenly took on a new level of difficulty for Ianto. His knuckles were white as he gripped the metal railing; his other hand was clenched in a fist. He considered whether an escape was feasible. He might be able to get as far as the cog door, but the delay in opening would surely forfeit any head start he had. The invisible lift wasn't an option either. No matter how he crunched the numbers, he was going to be stuck facing off with the irritable doctor. Again.

Owen folded his arms over his chest and cocked his head to the side, awaiting a response. Ianto briefly considered walking himself down to the cells and plunking down on the hard shelf that posed as a bed, but then that would make Owen's day, and Ianto wasn't feeling that giving.

Using the last bit of energy he had left, Ianto took a breath and straightened his shoulders.

"Should I follow in my car or ride with you?"

xXx

Awkward didn't really begin to describe the feeling in the car on the way to Owen's flat. The brief stop at Ianto's place to retrieve some basic necessities was quick, and Owen never got further than an arm's reach the entire time.

The reality that Owen was deadly serious in his words was starting to sink in. He knew Owen wasn't a complete ass. He had always believed that underneath the shell of sarcasm and discontent that there was a decent human being, but seeing him suddenly acting so caring was … strange.

Overnight bag in hand, Ianto moved toward the door to his flat, but stopped when Owen turned and dashed toward the kitchen.

He heard the knocks and bangs of his cupboards being opened and slammed, followed by Owen's harsh voice. "Jesus, how can you live like this?"

"Owen?"

"Here, these will do." Owen appeared again caring a packet of Hobnobs, tossing them to Ianto.

He caught them, turning them in his hands for a moment. "Hobnobs?"

"Don't start with me. You need something in your stomach. It's not my fault you don't have shit to choose from."

Owen brushed past him and waved impatiently for Ianto to hurry up. "Get moving, I want to be home sometime tonight."

As they pulled away, Ianto attempted to slip the packet of biscuits down beside him, but was stopped when Owen's hand thumped him hard in the chest.

"Eat," Owen voice bordered on a growl, sparking a sudden interest in the Hobnobs that he hadn't felt before.

He peeled the package apart and ate in silence. It did nothing to settle his stomach. Actually, between the stress of being so exposed and the constant ache in his gut, he was feeling nauseous.

He knew Owen had more to say. It was obvious from his body language, the tension in his shoulders, the grip on the wheel, the disconcerting looks. There were even a few times when Owen's mouth opened only to snap closed again, followed by him clenching his jaw. Oh yes, Ianto was in for a speech.

When the car finally came to a halt, Ianto couldn't help but notice Owen wasn't making any move to get out. Ianto took an unsteady breath, desperately trying to rack his brain for something to say to break the tension. He didn't need to though. Owen seemed to have finally gotten his thoughts in order.

"Look, Ianto." Owen turned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I know we've had our differences, but I do care about what happens to you, alright? So just … just try and work with me here. I really am trying to do the right thing for once."

Ianto was taken aback by the sudden change in personality. He had expected to be reprimanded, chastised, but not that.

Ianto nodded, his face betraying his confusion. "Okay."

"Good. Now that we have that sorted, let's get inside. I want you showered and fed, so I can chew your ass out properly."

Oh, apparently he didn't dodge that one after all.

xXx

Ianto stood in the shower, leaning his head against the cool tile and wondering just how his day had become such a mess. The water stung the skin of his hands, but he relished the feeling. The pain made him feel alive when every other part of him felt dead.

He heard the bathroom door open and footsteps approaching the shower. "Don't think you're going to hide in there all night, mate." Owen punctuated his words by flicking at the shower curtain.

"Do you have no social skills?"

"Ha, that's funny coming from a man that spends his day alone in a basement. Hurry up, I mean it. We need to talk."

He waited until he heard the door click closed before turning the water off and stepping out. He shrugged on a pair on track pants and a cotton tee. He felt naked without the protection of his suit. When at work, or around his colleagues, his suits let him feel safe, offering him a way to hide in the openness of the hub. But here at Owen's, he was left unprotected, completely vulnerable to his scrutinizing gaze.

The distinct smell of curry drew Ianto toward the kitchen. He was greeted by Owen, who was padding around barefoot in similar attire as himself. He gestured to the table where there were two plates set out, and Ianto watched as he stirred what looked like a Tikka Masala one more time before serving it on the plates.

"You going to stand there gawking all night, or are you going to sit down and eat?"

Owen plonked down in his chair, raising an eyebrow at Ianto. "Well?"

Ianto nodded and sat across from Owen and tentatively began eating.

The strangeness of the situation was nearly too much for Ianto, and he considered turning and bolting for the door, but he didn't. It almost felt good to be around someone else again.

"Thank you, it's good."

Owen grunted in response as he stuffed another forkful of food into his mouth. As Ianto watched him, he realized that Owen had more in common with the weevils than just growling. His table etiquette was on par with Janet's.

They ate in silence, and Ianto couldn't help but wonder when the lecture would begin. Ianto watched as Owen scraped the last of his curry off the dish before shoving his plate away and leaning back in the chair, rubbing his stomach in satisfaction.

There was still over half of what Owen had served him left, but Ianto couldn't force anymore down. It had been a while since he had eaten that much. Even before joining Torchwood, he was never one to eat large meals.

Noting Owen's gaze, and trying his best to ignore it, he stood and cleared the table, placing the dishes in the sink. Glancing around the kitchen, he located the dishwasher and began taking care of the aftermath of Owen's culinary adventure. He figured it was the least he could do, as Owen had prepared something that was more than edible.

Unfortunately, Ianto's lower back was not as agreeable to the idea. But using his years of practice at concealing his emotions, Ianto bit back the discomfort and continued. He had already shown enough weakness for a lifetime today and didn't need to be caught whimpering while straightening the kitchen.

Swallowing hard, Ianto placed the washcloth he had been using on the counter and turned back to the room. Owen was still at the table, but now was turned in his chair, watching Ianto.

"You're in pain, aren't you?"

"It's just a twinge."

"The hell it is," Owen said as he slid his chair back and moved towards Ianto.

Ianto's brow furrowed and he stepped back, bumping his back painfully into the counter behind him. A pained groan slipped from his throat.

"Whoa, easy, okay? I'm not going to hurt you. Give me some credit, would ya?" Owen was standing in front of Ianto. "I just want to help. Remember what I said in the car?"

Ianto nodded and watched Owen cautiously.

"Turn around." Owen's hand motioned in a circle.

"What? No."

"Jesus, Ianto. I'm not going to molest you." Owen hand firmly gripped Ianto's shoulder, twisting him around to face the cabinets.

"Ow."

Owen only chuckled in response, and before Ianto could protest, Owen was pulling Ianto's shirt up. He flinched in surprise as warm, calloused fingers began prodding the muscles, probably feeling the knots that he knew riddled his back.

Owen made a few noncommittal noises before letting Ianto's shirt fall back into place.

"As I doctor, I can say with authority, it's a fucking miracle you're even standing."

"Why thank you, Doctor Harper, for that brilliant piece of insight." Ianto tugged his shirt back down fully, smoothing the hem of the cotton tee.

Owen's hand shot out and grabbed one of Ianto's, pulling it into the light for inspection. Ianto knew what had caught his eye and shame enveloped Ianto. Owen's touch was gentle as he examined the faint scars on Ianto's arm, carefully feeling over the marks with his fingertips.

"They aren't … I wasn't trying to kill myself if that's what you're thinking."

Owen released his hold and stepped back, leaning against the center island. He crossed his arms over his chest and nodded for Ianto to continue.

"It was a week after Jack left. The night we went after the two weevils in Splott -when we found that girl."

Ianto felt the darkness creeping in on him again as he thought of the images from that night, the small body, hardly recognizable, torn apart in a back alley, the way her blond hair was streaked with blood. He shuddered at the memory.

"When I got home that night, I couldn't sleep. I don't even remember deciding to do it. It just happened. The last time before that was years ago." He stopped, looking up to meet Owen's eyes. He didn't look disgusted or judgmental like Ianto had thought he would. He looked understanding.

"Have you done it since?"

He shook his head. "No."

Owen nodded, contemplating what Ianto had said. "And you starving yourself, that's for the same reason as the cutting?"

Ianto shrugged. "I never really thought about it. It's just happens."

Owen scrubbed a hand over his face, moving it up to ruffle his hair. He sighed and studied Ianto carefully. "Well, I won't lie, psychiatry was never my strong suit, but I'll do everything I can to help you out. Tomorrow, I'm going to make some calls and get you on some meds. At minimum, you need something for that ulcer you're developing and some vitamin supplements for the malnutrition."

Owen reached out, squeezing him on the shoulder. "Hey, it's not that bad, could be worse."

Ianto gave him a skeptical look.

"Well, I can't fix everything wrong in your head tonight, but I can help with your back if you let me."

Ianto scoffed. "And how would you do that?"

Owen held up his hands, waving them in the air.

"You want to give me a massage?" Ianto asked, bemused.

"Yeah, but don't expect a happy ending. You're not my type."

"You're such a prat."

"You wouldn't want me any other way, now go lay on the bed. I'll be right there." Owen waved in the direction of his bedroom.

"I didn't realize I had agreed yet."

"Just shut up and do it. I am a doctor, you know. It's not like you have anything to hide." A mischievous grin spread across Owen's face. "Unless you fancy me and-"

Ianto shoved a hand hard into Owen's chest. "Don't," Ianto warned.

Owen put his hands up in a placating gesture. "Sorry, just trying to lighten the mood. Seriously, Ianto, go lay down, and I'll see if I can do something for your back."

Ianto really wasn't sure if it was possible for the universe to be turned inside out, but he was pretty sure it had at some point in the last thirty minutes.

Hearing Owen enter the bathroom, Ianto hesitantly made his way toward the open expanse of space Owen referred to as his room. He looked down at the bed with apprehension, but the idea of being horizontal on a soft surface was too enticing to deny, and he gave in to his body's needs and climbed onto the bed.

As he settled down on his stomach, Owen's voice called from the other room. "Make sure you keep your pants on. I'm not Harkness."