Jack tapped his pen against the desk, the beat a rhythmic counter to his disjointed thoughts. It was a sign of his concern, a tell he really should have been able to suppress, but he was worried, more worried than he'd been in quite a while.
Owen had spent most of the night locked away in the lab, testing and re-testing samples he had taken from everyone, looking for something that made Gwen's virus different from the previous strain. Tosh had helped him for a while, before returning to the alien pod to look for any clue about the disease it had carried, but at one in the morning Jack had seen the fatigue drawing on her and he'd told Ianto to take her home and then get some rest himself.
The Welshman had indeed driven Tosh back to her apartment, but he'd returned a few hours later, impossibly refreshed and determined to help wherever he could. He'd ignored Jack's glares and commands to go home and spent the hours before dawn making sure that Owen had everything he needed and Gwen had someone with her every time she woke up, despite the fact that she drifted in and out of coherence without warning.
That fact in itself was alarming, but when her breathing had begun to labour, the atmosphere had grown even tenser than before. Now there was an oxygen mask clamped over her face, Owen sported a permanent scowl and Jack's mind was skirting around a fearful possibility he did not want to consider.
A shadow passed across the open doorway and Jack threw down the pen as he leapt to his feet. "Ianto!" he shouted, rounding his desk and crossing the room in two steps. "Get Martha on the phone right now!"
Out in the open area, Ianto had apparently just emerged from the autopsy bay, his arms filled with a variety of medical equipment. "Will do," he replied, his tone calm where Jack's was agitated.
The Captain took a moment to sweep his gaze over the other man, checking for signs of fatigue or illness or anything else that would add to the knot growing in Jack's chest. Fortunately there was no hint of any adverse effects of Ianto's prolonged contact with Gwen, just the usual impeccable bearing and a neutral expression.
"How is she?" Jack asked quietly.
Ianto shrugged eloquently within his neatly pressed suit. "Her breathing's still thready and Owen's been giving her more morphine than he'd like, but the lesions have only spread a little further up her arms and..." he paused and studied Jack. "You could come see for yourself," he suggested casually, though the underlying accusation was anything but light.
Jack clenched his jaw. He hadn't been back in Gwen's room since returning to the Hub the day before and he really shouldn't have been surprised that Ianto had noticed.
"Owen doesn't need me getting under his feet," he said defensively and the words sounded weak even to his own ears. He scowled, unhappy not only with the chain continually tightening around his heart, but also his inability to cope with a sensation that he'd thought himself accustomed to.
He'd encountered a lot of illness in his time, seen too many loved ones struggle for their lives, but this...it troubled him all the more because it was Gwen. Even beyond the fact that he couldn't do anything to aid Owen in his search for a treatment, he couldn't do anything at all, and it was rare for him to feel so helpless.
Ianto was still watching him knowingly. Jack had no doubt at all that the other man knew the root of his anxiety and he didn't know how he felt about someone being able to grasp his thoughts so easily. Unable to deal with that on top of everything else right then, Jack shook his head and stepped back into his office, away from the blue gaze which could see right through him.
Toshiko returned to work late the next morning, feeling more alert and upbeat than she had expected. She'd had to get a taxi in because her car was still at the Hub, and she hated making small talk with taxi drivers, but she was grateful that Jack had insisted she spend the night in her own bed.
She had, of course, argued at the time, but he and Ianto had skilfully manoeuvred her out the door and into Ianto's car without paying her protests the slightest bit of notice. When they'd reached her flat and Ianto had walked her to her door, he'd tried to pacify her by pointing out the fact that he was going home for a rest as well, but she doubted he had stayed away for the whole night.
Still, she couldn't deny that the sleep had done her the world of good and she was now brimming with ideas for her ongoing tests on the pod. Whether any of them would provide results Owen could use in helping Gwen was another matter, but unravelling the mystery of the alien object was the only real contribution Tosh could make towards the search for a cure.
After being updated on Gwen's condition by Jack and Ianto – the latter of which deftly avoided the subject of what time he'd returned to the Hub – she headed to Gwen's room and let herself in as quietly as possible. Owen was already inside, as she'd expected, fussing over the machines monitoring the other woman's progress.
"No change?" Tosh asked, setting down her laptop on one of the tables that had been moved into the room.
"Not really, but at the moment I'd have to say that's a good thing. Neither the sores or her breathing have got any worse in the past–" he glanced at his watch, "-two hours. If they remain stable, there's a chance she'll start to improve soon." He turned to see Tosh setting up her computer. "What's going on?"
"I thought I'd sit with her for a while," Tosh said. "Give you a chance to take a break, get some...well, not sleep, but rest, I suppose."
Owen shook his head. "No need, I'm fine."
"You're not fine, Owen, you've been working non-stop all night and before that you were in here every available moment seeing to her rash. Even if your body doesn't need to relax, your mind does." Tosh paused, a little surprised by her own outburst. "You need to take some time away from trying to figure this out," she went on, softer than before. "Maybe you'll have some blinding flash of insight and realise how to fix it."
On the bed Gwen stirred from her doze at Toshiko's raised voice. She opened her eyes a fraction and peered up at the new arrival. "Kick 'im out," she croaked through her oxygen mask.
Tosh smiled, partly for the sentiment but mostly for the fact that Gwen was awake and lucid, which was an improvement on when Tosh had last seen her the day before. Her arms were still wrapped in thick bandages, beneath which her skin was apparently in a bad state, but at least her eyes were no longer completely vacant.
She glanced across at Owen. "Two against one," she said innocently and the doctor scowled at her.
"Fine, I can tell when I'm not wanted," he announced, his lips tightening into a thin line and his eyes flashing with frustration. He tugged off his medical gloves as he made for the door, tripping slightly over his own feet as he strode out. Tosh could hear him cursing in the hallway and couldn't hold back the affectionate chuckle that slipped out.
Gwen briefly laughed as well, until she fell silent with a wince.
"Are you okay?" Tosh asked, immediately hurrying to her side and helping her pull aside the mask.
"Yeah," she said hoarsely. "Just hurts."
Tosh struggled to keep hold of her smile. "Is the morphine not helping? I can get Owen back in here if-"
"No," Gwen interrupted. "Got this." She lifted a hand and showed Tosh the button she was holding. She pressed it and sighed a moment later as another dose of morphine made its way through her IV. "Instant high," she explained dreamily.
Tosh took a moment to study her colleague, her eyes lingering on the thick white salve spread over the visible skin of her red upper arms. She supposed Owen was hoping to keep the blisters from spreading with the rash, but if he couldn't treat them already, she wasn't too sure if he could prevent them either.
Apparently the additional drugs in her system hadn't managed to completely distract Gwen, for she noticed the look upon Tosh's face and waved a limp hand to get her attention. "Hey," she said, making Tosh jump with guilt. "Don't."
Tosh grimaced. "Sorry."
"Not your fault."
"But if I hadn't opened the pod..."
"If, if, if," Gwen chanted, grinning blearily through the morphine. "Don't be silly. Always risk an' danger. Don't blame you."
Tosh smiled but it was forced. It didn't help ease her feeling of culpability, but protesting wouldn't do any good and she knew it. "Rhys sends his love," she said, hoping to change the subject.
"Aw, bless 'im," Gwen slurred. "He's coming in?"
"Oh, um, I'm not sure..."
"Really wanna see him."
"Oh, of course you do. I'll find out. Do you want me to find out?" Tosh asked, feeling suddenly very uncomfortable. She had a feeling Jack wouldn't allow Rhys into the base, but she couldn't very well tell Gwen that.
When Gwen didn't respond, however, Tosh leaned forward, noticing that her eyes had closed and her breathing had evened out. Deflating with relief, Tosh replaced the oxygen mask before moving back to the table and slumping into the plastic seat beside it.
Ianto wheeled a chair over to Tosh's desk and sat down beside her, nudging her shoulder with his own in quiet reassurance. Tosh was the only person Ianto could touch so freely – apart from Jack of course – and not feel awkward doing it, although it still happened rather infrequently.
"You okay?" he asked, noticing her gaze was fixed on her keyboard even though she wasn't typing.
Tosh sighed softly. "Gwen's been asking for Rhys."
"Ah."
"I mentioned it to Jack but he didn't seem too thrilled by the idea."
Ianto nodded and smiled faintly. "Yeah, that wouldn't surprise me."
"I think she thinks she's going to die," Tosh went on, looking up at Ianto at last. Her eyes weren't red, but Ianto could see she was struggling to hold back her fear and worry. He knew it wouldn't take much to draw tears from that dark gaze.
Ianto placed a hand on her arm, then changed his mind and slipped it across her shoulders instead. "She won't. Jack won't allow it."
"What can he do to stop it?" Tosh asked, voice dropping into a whisper and eyes darting towards the door to Jack's office. "And if she dies he can't even bring her back like Owen now that both gauntlets are gone." She winced. "Not that I'd wish that upon her."
Ianto didn't know what to say to reassure her, so he held his tongue and rubbed her arm gently.
"It's all starting to fall apart, isn't it?" Tosh went on quietly after a moment. "Gwen's on her deathbed, Owen's body would shatter if he tripped down the stairs and Jack..." She guiltily dropped her eyes away from Ianto's. "Jack already disappeared once..."
And he might disappear again at any moment, Ianto finished silently for her. He didn't rush to defend the Captain, finding himself unable to lie on his lover's behalf, especially as he'd experienced those same concerns ever since Jack had returned from the little trip that he still refused to talk about.
"It won't fall apart," he eventually said, feeling the slight tremors in Tosh's shoulders. "We'll get through this, just like always."
"It can't last," she replied, either not hearing or simply ignoring his words. "The things we do...it's all going to come crashing down around us sooner or later." She shook her head. "Sooner, most likely."
Ianto frowned, troubled by this fearful side of his friend that had suddenly emerged. Tosh didn't just give up like this, she kept pushing and pushing until something clicked into place and opened up a new path that in turn led to a solution; they all did that, in fact, which was probably why they had been, why they were, such a capable team.
But maybe Tosh had a point. The turnover for Torchwood employees was far higher than any other organisation in the country, possibly in the world, so perhaps she really wasn't being too fatalistic to worry that the end was nearing for their little family.
It was still unlike her, however, to be cowed in such a way, and in a sudden flash of insight, Ianto realised the truth of the matter. This was her grief for Owen; the grief she'd refused to face when he had been shot was finally breaking through thanks to the emotional upheaval surrounding Gwen's illness. It was perfectly understandable and Ianto had been expecting her grief to emerge at some point; despite holding back her mourning as Owen wasn't actually gone from their lives, Tosh still needed to grieve for what had happened to him.
Ianto laid his free hand over hers, where they lay folded together in her lap. "We'll get through this," he said again, hoping for her sake that he wouldn't be proven wrong.
Alex opened the door, a smile already on his lips. He stepped back and waved Ianto inside. "Three times in four days," he said cheerfully. "I could get used to this."
Ianto scowled at him. "Please don't sound so happy about it."
Chastened, the smile faded from Alex's face. "Sorry. That was insensitive of me."
"It was," Ianto agreed, the tension thrumming in his body stretching his politeness to the limit.
There was a moment's hesitation as Alex studied him carefully. "If you wanted," he began, "you could try talking about it." Ianto's lips pressed together unhappily and the other man shrugged. "I'm serious. To go from once a week to this...has something happened?"
"It's not been a good week." Ianto looked away and sighed. "I don't come here to talk, Alex. That isn't part of the deal."
"No, it isn't. But I'm still offering it."
Ianto said nothing for a long minute and then shook his head. "I can't," he said, his chest beginning to feel constricted; the emotions roiling deep within him conflicting with his instinct to suppress them. "I'm not much of a talker." He grimaced around the words, pained by the effort of admitting his weakness.
"It's okay, I understand," Alex said soothingly. "But maybe it's time we consider changing your scenario. It isn't enough for you anymore, is it?"
"It works."
"It could be better," the older man told him. "If you'd just let me show you."
Ianto looked away and shrugged helplessly. "I don't want to try anything new right now."
Alex sighed quietly. "You're the boss." He took a step away and motioned towards the door behind which the young man could face his secret needs in safety.
