Disclaimer: Torchwood is the property of the BBC and Russell T. Davies. This fanfic is purely for entertainment and I am not making a penny off it.

Alice had refused to believe her child was dead. Johnson only had the medic check the boy to humor her, but to everyone's shock, a weak pulse was found. Johnson immediately had Steven and his mother airlifted to the nearest Unit medical facility.

"Don't tell my father," Alice half-pleaded, half-demanded of the government agent, "He doesn't deserve to know."

Perhaps she took Johnson's silence for assent. If so, she was mistaken. Once the helicopter was in the air, Johnson phoned Ianto's sister, hoping Ianto and Jack were there, or that she could at least get in touch with them. It turned out the two men were not there, but their colleague, Gwen Cooper, was. Once they got past the mutual hostility and distrust, Johnson was able to leave a message and contact number for Jack.

Less than ten minutes later, Johnson's mobile rang. She answered on the first ring, "Johnson."

"Where is he?"

"Hello, Captain Harkness. He's been taken to a Unit-run medical facility. He'll be well taken care of there; they have access to technology not found in any other hospital on the planet."

"Why the hell didn't you tell me sooner?" he growled suspiciously.

Johnson let out an irritated sigh. "I would have done if you and Jones hadn't been so eager to scarper off. Neither one of you had phones on you. I wasn't even sure you'd be at Rhianna Davies's home."

Jack's answering sigh carried an air of grudging acceptance. "Where's this facility?"

"If you'd like I can send a 'copter to take you there."

"And why would you do that? Why'd you bother contacting me at all, for that matter?"

"Your actions saved millions of lives, Captain," she replied, "I feel we owe you."

Jack seemed to mull it over, then he gave her a location to pick him up.

"I'm going with you," Gwen said as soon as Jack hung up the phone.

The immortal shook his head. "No. This isn't Torchwood, Gwen. This... It's family," he swallowed thickly, "Stay here with Rhys."

"You can't go there alone, Jack," Gwen argued, "What if it's some kind of trick?"

"He won't be alone," Ianto spoke, drawing their attention, "I'll be with him."

Jack was about to argue when the Welshman gripped his arm and said, "I'm living with this, too. Remember?"

The older man's objections died on his lips. The truth was, he didn't want to face whatever lay ahead alone. He took Ianto's hand in his own, gave it a grateful squeeze. "Okay."

They said their goodbyes to Ianto's family as well as Gwen and Rhys. As Jack embraced her, Gwen whispered into his ear, "Come back safely. Whatever it takes."

Jack pressed a kiss to her temple, then he and Ianto left for the rendezvous.

Moments later, standing together atop yet another tall building, Jack glanced at the younger man beside him and stated, "You're exhausted."

Ianto snorted, "So are you."

Jack tried to remember the last time either one of them got any real sleep. Thinking about it made the weariness all the more noticeable, so he pushed it to the back of his mind. They would go and see Steven, Jack vowed to himself, then he and Ianto would find a room at the nearest habitable hotel and spend the next few days hibernating.

The sound of beating rotors drew the immortal from his reverie. Jack's greatcoat billowed around him as the gleaming black helicopter landed. The two men hunched down and ran to the waiting 'copter. Once they were helped aboard and settled in their seats, the pilot lifted off.

Even flying, it was quite a distance from Cardiff to wherever in London the Unit facility was located. Ianto's eyelids grew heavier, despite the noise of the rotors. He felt Jack's arm around him, gently urging him to lean against the older man. Ianto rested his head on his lover's shoulder, let the exhaustion draw him into much-needed sleep. He wasn't sure how long he dozed. Before he knew it, Jack was shaking him awake. Ianto squinted out the window, saw the glow of predawn behind the cityscape. The helicopter was lowering itself onto a helipad atop a nondescript, utilitarian building. Uniformed soldiers in distinct red caps waited for them to land, along with a young woman in a white lab coat and a man in dark civilian clothing. Ianto recognized the woman and smiled. He looked at Jack, saw an even broader grin on the older man's face.

Jack practically leapt from the helicopter the second it touched down and ran to the beaming woman, scooping her up in his arms and spinning her around. "Martha Jones, voice of a nightingale!"

"That's Jones-Smith now," she laughed. The moment Jack set her down, she went to Ianto, who'd approached at a more dignified pace, and embraced him with the same affection. "Ianto, I'm so glad you're alive. I'd seen your name on the casualty reports from Thames House."

"I wish I could tell you how I made it," Ianto smiled.

Martha drew back, surprised. "You mean..."

"I was dead, apparently. And then...I wasn't," he shrugged.

Martha looked at him, looked at Jack, who was chatting up the dark clothed man. Ianto heard the words Mickey Mouse and Captain Courageous exchanged.

"Was it Jack?" she asked, keeping her voice low so only Ianto heard, "Did he bring you back somehow?"

"I really don't know. Neither does he."

Martha nodded, then wisely dropped the subject for the time being. "Let me introduce you to my husband."

After Ianto and Mickey exchanged greetings, Martha escorted the newcomers into the facility. Inside, there was little to distinguish it from any other hospital. Same harsh fluorescent lighting, same sterile halls, same disinfectant smells. The Unit soldiers passing them in the halls were the only obvious difference at first, but Ianto caught glimpses of equipment his experienced eye identified as modified alien technology. If ordinary citizens knew the kind of miracles Unit's doctors worked in places like this...

Martha brought them to a halt in front of a nondescript door. She turned to Jack, her expression sober. "You need to prepare yourself."

Jack squared his shoulders. "What's his condition?"

"He's sustained massive cerebral trauma. There's no sign of any higher brain functions, and we've used every advanced piece of equipment at our disposal. Only the brainstem is functioning, and that is beginning to fail as well. We had to put him on life support." Throughout her explanation, Martha's eyes held a depth of sorrow for her friend that made Ianto realize Steven's odds were very slim.

Jack saw this, too. His voice cracked a little as he asked, "What are his chances?"

Martha bit her lip, shook her head. Her eyes shone with tears. "I'm sorry, Jack. We tried everything we could. The damage is just too severe."

Jack's grief threatened to break through his stoic façade. Wordlessly, he reached out and Ianto took his hand. Both drew strength from the simple contact. Jack took a breath, "I need to see him."

Martha nodded and reached for the door handle.

"What are you doing here?" The harsh voice startled them all into looking behind them where they saw a glaring Alice holding a steaming paper cup of tea in her hand. The brunt of her anger was focused solely on Jack. "Haven't you done enough?"

"I just need to see him one last time," Jack answered in a quiet voice, "Then I'll be out of your life forever."

"No." Her tightening grip threatened to spill hot tea over her hand. "You're not going anywhere near him. You did this to him."

"Steven agreed to do it," Jack explained, "He knew what would happen, but he wanted to help save those millions who would've been taken. He's a hero."

"He's a child!" Alice flung her tea. The paper cup landed on the floor less than a foot away, splashing its contents over their ankles. Alice spun on Martha. "Get him out of here. I want him out!"

While Martha tried to calm her, Jack met Ianto's gaze and gave a faint nod. Ianto nodded back, and the two men suddenly rushed through the door into Steven's room, slamming the door shut behind them.

"No locks," Ianto observed. He leaned his weight against the door while on the other side Alice screamed and beat her fists against it.

Jack stood at the foot of the hospital bed, gazing down at his grandson. Steven looked so much smaller, lying in the bed that was too big for him, hooked to tubes and wires, surrounded by equipment that blinked and beeped. His eyes were closed, body perfectly still. He was fed oxygen through a tube down his throat.

Tears fell down Jack's cheeks. "I'm so sorry, Steven."

The thumps on the door got louder. There were other voices now; soldiers, most likely. They were trying to force the door open. Ianto planted his feet and pushed back. "We don't have long."

"I don't need long." Jack moved to the side of the bed. He reached for Steven's breathing tube.

"Jack!"

He looked at the Welshman. "Remember when Lisa threw you across the Hub?"

Ianto swallowed the lump that formed at the memory of one of the worst days of his life. "I remember."

"Your neck was broken. You were dying."

Ianto blinked in surprise. "But I woke up. I..." he frowned in thought, "I thought you resuscitated me."

Jack shook his head. "I healed you."

A hard thud shoved Ianto forward a few inches. He quickly slammed his body against the door and managed to shut it again. "Can you heal Steven?"

"I can try." Without hesitation, Jack grasped the tube and pulled it from Steven's throat. The boy immediately started to choke while the monitoring equipment bleeped in alarm. Jack gently cupped his grandson's face in both hands and kissed him on the mouth. Ianto was never sure, but he thought he saw a faint glow surround them for a moment. Steven's arms started flailing. Jack broke the kiss and backed off.

Ianto took that as his cue to jump away from the door. Alice, Martha, Mickey, and a couple of soldiers burst in to find both men standing beside the hospital bed where Steven was sitting up, a confused look on his face.

"Steven!" Alice rushed to her son's side, wrapped her arms around him and kissed his face all over. "Oh, my god. My baby."

Ianto felt a weight begin to lift from him as he watched the scene unfold. But then he noticed something; Steven's puzzled frown didn't fade when he looked at his mother. It was almost as if...

Alice started to notice as well. "Steven?" She cradled his face in her hands, gazed into his clear eyes. "Steven, it's me. It's Mummy."

The child didn't respond. He stared at the woman before him without a trace of recognition.

Jack's kiss saved Steven's life, but not his memories. His brain was fully healed, but the memories, every moment of his short life, were gone.

Alice entered the sparsely furnished room where the facility's security guards placed her father and his companion. It wasn't quite a cell, but there was a lock on the door which required a keycard to get in. One of the soldiers standing watch was kind enough to let her in.

Jack and Ianto were seated at a small table, each nursing a cup of coffee. Jack stood upon seeing his daughter while Ianto remained seated.

Alice approached her father, calmer now than she'd been an hour ago, her gaze level. She stopped an arm's length from him. "You saved my son's life," she stated, "I'm grateful for that. But the person he was, the little boy I raised for nine years, is gone. Likely forever. He'll relearn how to walk, how to speak. He'll go back to school, make new friends, live his life. But he won't be the same Steven. You saved him, but you're also the one who killed him."

Jack didn't respond. Nothing she said was untrue.

Alice took a step closer, shrinking the distance between them. When she spoke, there was no trace of spite, nor kindness. "I want your word," she said, "that you'll stay away from us. Don't visit. Don't call or write. Don't watch us from a distance or keep tabs on us to see how we are. We're no longer your family. Do you understand."

Jack nodded slowly.

"I need to hear you say it."

He managed to get the words out, "You have my word."

Alice stared at him for another beat, then turned away and left the room without a backward glance. It was the last time Jack ever saw her.

The immortal lowered himself into his vacated chair, feeling every year of his too-long life. "I saved her son, and I still lost them both."

"I'm sorry, Jack." The compassion in Ianto's voice brought tears to his eyes.

"Doesn't matter," he sighed, bowed his head, "Everyone leaves me."

Ianto scooted his chair closer to Jack's, placed his hand on the back of the older man's neck and rubbed gently. "I won't leave you."

Jack looked at the Welshman with a sad smile. "Yeah, you will. Someday you'll walk away, or be killed, or time will take you from me." The finality in his tone was far more tragic than any amount of sobbing. Ianto wished with all his heart he could argue against the inevitable. All he could say was: "I can't do anything about dying, but I promise I will never walk away." Then he screwed up his courage and said, "I love you, Jack."

Jack didn't shy from the words. Instead, he brought his hand to Ianto's cheek and slowly leaned in until their lips met in a soft kiss.