Disclaimer: I don't own anything Torchwood, including the boys, but I would give them a home if anyone wanted to give them to me as a present.

A/N: Thank you to my wonderful beta jolinarjackson. You make this fic better all the time and I greatly appreciate everything. Thank you again for doing everything that you do. On that note, I've been a bad girl and added a few things after my beta saw the story so all mistakes are mine.

Thank you to all those that have read, put this story on alert, and commented. Especially those that commented because it lets me know you are enjoying this story. I really appreciate that you took the extra step and let me know. Here is the next chapter!

Chapter 3 – Thursday Morning/Afternoon

Tosh stared at her watch for the fifth time during the last hour; the train was running late, something to do with all the work they were doing just north of London. The usual Welsh rain dripped down the grey concrete building, trickling into the cracks in the surface.

She still couldn't believe she'd agreed to do this, after all these years of making her own life and getting over her unrequited crush on him, she was standing in the drizzling rain, without an umbrella, waiting. The irony was not lost on her.

In some ways she understood Jack better than anyone. She'd followed her object of obsession into some of the weirdest, wildest experiences of her life. The whole time she hoped that he would notice her, fall for her. The difference between her and Jack was that her crush always realized it, but was never interested (and sometimes had let her know that in cruel ways).

She peeked at her watch again, another six minutes passed and the train was yet to be announced. She reminded herself that she had Tommy in her life now and he was wonderful, gentle, and loving; in one word, a complete opposite of Owen. Sometimes she wondered whether that played a part in falling for Tommy but she stopped herself before allowing those dangerous thoughts to take any concrete form or shape. She loved Tommy because he was Tommy.

Drenched, shivering even though it wasn't that cold, she sighed in relief when the train was finally announced. She still questioned her sanity in agreeing to pick him up but it was too late to back out now, so she squared her shoulders and plastered a smile on her face as she continued to wait.

.

Owen hated trains. He hated being packed like a sardine sitting between the fat guy wheezing and an old woman eating pickles… pickles!... on the train.

Actually, these days, he hated everything, so he drank. He hated getting drunk as well.

Already too pissed for the hour, he originally just wanted to take the edge off but then couldn't stop. Between the stress of training to be a doctor and Katie's death, he chose escape when he could and these few days in Cardiff, he hoped, were going to be wonderfully nonexistent.

He had just asked Katie for her hand in marriage a week before they found out. She'd fainted and he'd driven her to their A&E for testing, even though fainting wasn't a serious thing he worried for his love so his overprotective instincts kicked in. After testing, the doctors had found a malignant brain tumor, inoperable. She'd died less than three months later.

Instead of planning a wedding, he'd planned a funeral.

He really didn't care about Ianto's wedding, he remembered caring about that uptight prick in the past but couldn't bring himself to care about anyone else's happiness when all he felt was unbearable pain or self-inflicted numbness.

The train stopped with a jerk, he grabbed his bag, and elbowed his way out.

.

Tosh watched Owen stumble down the platform and before she could stop herself, she was running into his arms squealing in greeting, "Owen!" As their bodies collided, she couldn't help but crinkle her nose at the stench of alcohol and possibly the last few days without a shower invading her sense of smell. Still, she clung to him. "How are you?"

Receiving a grunt in response, she pulled back and was finally able to get a good look at him. Owen looked awful; he had dark circles under his sunken in eyes, his pupils were dilated (she hoped just from the alcohol), his clothes were crinkled like he had slept in them for a few days, and he was barely standing on his feet.

"Come on; let's get you to your hotel room."

She was rewarded with another grunt and, grabbing his arm, led him through the crowds, holding on tightly to keep him steady.

They drove in silence, Owen nodding off in the passenger seat. Wondering what happened to her friend, Tosh spared worried glances his way. Despite his state, she still felt some of the old feelings stir and decided in that moment, she would try to take care of him as best as she could.

She had Tommy but that didn't mean she couldn't still care.

After checking Owen in and dragging him up to his room (while desperately trying to avoid odd looks from other patrons and staff), she gave in and texted Jack; she knew when she was over her head and needed to ask for help.

They had a few more hours until Ianto's stag night. Knowing it probably wasn't a good idea to have Owen around alcohol but not wanting to ruin Ianto's special night, she resolved to leave the decision up to Jack.

She dragged her friend's half-limp body into the bathroom and sat him down with his head against the toilet in case he became sick. She drew a hot bath and dipped her fingers in to make sure the temperature was perfect.

Stripping off his reeking clothes down to the pants in the most clinical way possible (stuffing the flutter in her stomach into a box and solidly closing the lid), she dragged him into the bath, thankful that he was small and wiry.

Owen grunted, "Alw'a wan'ed to get clotheses off m'."

She rolled her eyes (Ianto would be proud). "Yes, Owen, my dreams come true. Now, get into the bath."

As soon as he hit the warm water, his eyes started to close. Tosh made sure he didn't drown as she took care of him. Dragging a soaped up sponge over his body, Tosh wondered how he allowed himself to get into this state. Owen may have acted like a total prat in the past but she'd seen his kind side as well, like when he'd saved her from Mary's psychotic mind games.

He'd been there for her when her mother died, they'd both got pissed and even though the next day she'd still been grieving, at least she'd known she had a friend, someone to support her. And then the kiss, the one wonderful, amazing kiss at Christmas after a pub crawl under some hanging mistletoe. She'd thought it would change everything but in reality, it had changed nothing. Except that she'd then followed him around for the next year like a pathetic love sick puppy.

She reminded herself that she had Tommy who she loved and who loved her back. And Owen, she felt pity for him. It hurt that he hurt but… maybe; just maybe, her feelings were more those of a concerned friend than anything else now.

After draining the water and drying Owen off, she dragged him to bed and tucked him in comfortably under the duvet. She watched him drift off as she sat on the side of the bed holding his hand while he slept.

A jack hammer pounded straight through his cranium, even though he'd woken up like this almost every morning since her death, he still didn't like it. He felt the bed next to him shift, someone was sitting there.

He wracked his brain, trying to determine what had happened before he'd passed out. Tosh. She'd been supposed to pick him up at the station and then… she must have taken him to the hotel.

He wondered whether she'd stayed because she was still bloody love sick with him. He opened his eyes, about to thank her when...

"What the fuck?"

"Hi, Owen. I should be asking you that question."

"How the bloody hell are you here, Harkness?" His groan was partially muffled by the pillow.

Jack passed him a bottle of water with a bendy straw and two aspirin. "Here, it'll make you feel better."

Tosh did a good job providing what Owen would need when he woke up. After taking the offerings, Owen swallowed and then pressed his face into the pillow.

"Feeling better?"

"No."

"Good. It needs to hurt. Now, why the fuck did you show up at eleven in the morning this drunk?"

"Leave me alone," Owen muttered into the pillow.

He heard Jack's footsteps walking away and sighed in relief.

"What the bloody fuck!" Owen jumped out of the bed after Jack dumped ice water on his head.

"No mercy, Harper. Spill."

"Bloody hell! You're here ear..."

Jack's voice was commanding but gentle, "No deflecting, Harper. Poor Tosh dragged you drunk off your ass through half of Cardiff; she bathed you, and took care of you. So give me a good reason why you would do something like that to a friend? Better yet, give me a reason why I shouldn't smack you right now?"

Owen's body trembled and tears started to flow down his face. Jack's heart ached to see Owen so broken; he grabbed his friend into a big bear hug (grimacing inwardly that ice water wasn't one of his best ideas) and just held him there while the other man sobbed.

It seemed like hours and Jack's shirt was soaked through with his tears and water before Owen settled down. Jack asked him gently, "What happened?"

Owen kept his face buried in Jack's chest while mumbling, "She d-died."

Jack waited silently for Owen to continue in his own time.

"I l-loved her. Still d-do."

Caressing his hair, he held on tighter still waiting patiently.

"Katie… just proposed and then f-found the b-brain tumor."

He could feel his friend's pain in every tense muscle of his body. Owen had been known to be a mean wanker but Jack knew that was just his defense mechanism and it had worked well in the past. Seeing Owen so bare and broken without his façade was really a painful sight, bringing tears to the corners of Jack's eyes.

"A month of hell, Jack. D-don't know if I c-can l-live witho-out her."

"You are strong, Owen. I know it hurts right now but I know you. You're a survivor."

He screamed in anger and pounded his fists against Jack's chest once, pushing him away. "You don't understand, Harkness!"

Jack kept his voice calm and gentle but strong as he gathered the stray fists in his hands, "I lost Gray and my dad, remember? I know what it's like to lose those you love."

Owen paused fighting him and then his shoulders sagged. "I'm s-sorry." Owen started sobbing again, all fight drained out of him. "I w-want the pain to stop but I don't either. I don't want it to stop h-hurting 'cause then I'll forget. Don't want to f-forget. But I can't live with the p-pain."

"After all these years I still feel pain in my heart when I remember Gray or dad. I try to focus on the good memories. It's hard sometimes, but that is all I have left of them. Although, the pain isn't as sharp anymore, now it's bearable. It took time though. And no one will ever replace either of them, wouldn't want them to."

"She's the only one I ever l-loved. H-how do you move on after that, w-without a future?"

Jack lifted Owen's chin with his fingers and stared straight into those shattered brown eyes. "Do you think she would want you to give up on your life? I know that if I died, I would want those I love to be happy and move on. I think she would want that for you too. What would you say if it was the other way around, if you left her?"

"I would want her to be h-happy."

"I bet that's what she wants for you from whatever afterlife she's at out there."

"I d-don't know if I can."

"You don't have to know. Just try a day at a time. You will have bad days and you'll slip but what's important is to get up the next day and try again; to never give up."

"Thanks Jack. I-I'll try." He gave him a strained smile. "It will be hard at Ianto's stag party. I was supposed to be planning my wedding right now, instead I planned a funeral."

Jack lay down on the bed next to Owen and settled in, both man staring at the ceiling in silence for a few moments before Jack spoke again, "Don't go then. Ianto would understand."

"I don't know…"

"He loves you too. He wouldn't want you to come if you felt uncomfortable."

Owen spat, "I don't want his pity!"

Jack rubbed the other man's hand. "He wouldn't pity you. He's had his share of losses too."

"I just..."

Turning to face Owen again Jack offered, "Let me talk to him."

"I don't want to ruin his wedding. He should be h-happy. At least one person should."

"I know him getting married hurts but he would want to be there for you. You know our Ianto, he wouldn't blame you."

"I want to try. Please, don't tell him."

"I won't then. Just please, don't drink as much. It's not good for you."

He gave Jack a hopeful smile as he snorted, "I'll try."

Jack just flopped to the side and threw his arm around his friend's waist. "Sleep now, Owen. Think later."

"Oi! You gonna cuddle with me, Harkness?"

Jack chuckled as he cuddled in closer. "If that's what it takes to get you to rest sober. Sleep now."

The tux rental shop attendant eyed the two men that walked in. David Smith had started working the job two weeks ago and was still nervous when interacting with customers. The two men walked up to him and the pale dark haired one with sexy stormy-blue eyes, David was always drawn to pretty eyes, spoke in a melodic Welsh accent, "We have tuxes reserved under Jones."

As the attendant looked through the computer system, he also peeked at the older man out of the corner of his eye. He showed off perfect teeth as he poked the Welshman in an endearing, playful way.

The beautiful eyed man huffed in annoyance, "Jack..."

The other man, tall, dark, and handsome, continued to poke the Welshman.

"Jack!" The sexy blue-eyed man grabbed his hands in an attempt to hold them still. The attendant smiled at the adorable interaction between them, wishing he could find a partner to click with so well.

David smirked. "I have here two reservations under Jones and may I say that it is nice to see gay couples committing themselves these days. And the chosen tuxes will match perfectly for the ceremony."

The Welshman blushed deep red while the other man - Jack - seemed to recoil back into himself. Sexy blue-eyes stuttered, "Uh, we're not… uhm, I'm… uh, not… he's my… uh, best man."

"Oh, sorry, I thought… sorry." The attendant blushed from embarrassment. "I'm just going to go get them then." He slipped away hurriedly into the back.

Jack was actually blushing, he never blushed. "Ianto, I… uh, I'm sor…"

"Doesn't matter." Ianto's voice was unemotional, distant.

They both waited, avoiding each other's gazes and fidgeting nervously, for the attendant's return.

Jack never felt comfortable in formal wear even though he wore suits to work on a regular basis (although refused to be bound by ties unless they bound him to the headboard). He much preferred the casual jeans and t-shirt look he wore on weekends. Trying to get the tux on was torture but he managed. Now, the tie was still a mystery.

Ianto, on the other hand, was very comfortable in suits and formal wear. They were his armor against the world, his mask.

When he came out of the dressing room, he was greeted by a spectacle of Jack struggling with his tie while murmuring curse words under his breath (some of them surprisingly in Welsh).

He smiled at the sight, a warm feeling passing through his body. Jack confused him. He was still the same man he remembered from Oxford and even still behaved in the same childish way. They still interacted the same, same banter, same feely-touchy, flirty Jack. But now he made Ianto nervous, almost giddy.

When they had shared the flat, Ianto didn't think twice about waking up in Jack's arms on the sofa after falling asleep during a late night movie. He hadn't let many people inside but Jack seemed to worm his way in without Ianto noticing. Their friendship was just… easy.

Until now.

He knew Jack always flirted with everyone and slept with many without regard for the person's gender. But since yesterday, he felt Jack looking strangely at him sometimes, eyes borrowing into the back of his head. And when he'd look back, Jack's gaze would always be somewhere else. That made him feel... unsettled.

He always thought Jack was at least kind of attracted to him; he was attracted to many people and Ianto (even without a Harkness sized ego) thought he was at least average looking. But for the first time, Ianto started to wonder whether he was attracted to Jack as well.

He'd caught himself describing Jack as gorgeous when telling Lisa about him, and did straight men think that way? That really was dangerous thinking. He was getting married soon. And he was straight. He was!

Yet, in this moment, he was amused at Jack's struggle and decided to help his friend and best man.

He walked up to Jack and grabbed his hands gently, their touching fingers sending electric shocks through his body he ignored. "Here, let me help."

Ianto's stomach fluttered and he suppressed the feeling deep down. Suddenly, he couldn't wait to have Jack out of his life again. He wasn't sure he could deal with all these perplexing feelings.

Ianto's long, graceful fingers worked the tie quickly as Jack trembled under his intense gaze. Coming here not only brought all his feelings back out into the open but somehow Jack thought he felt them stronger. And he just wasn't tough enough to be so close to Ianto physically yet so far away emotionally. The other man was untouchable.

Standing this close, Ianto's scent filled his nostrils making him light headed; Jack's lips were almost touching the tips of Ianto's hair. So close, just a small movement and he could kiss his forehead then move down to the jaw, earlobes, lips, those wonderful pink lips, and taste…

Jack pushed away. "Thanks."

Confusion flickered behind Ianto's eyes before his mask went back into place, "Uh, these are good then, yeah?"