Sharpened steel pressed eagerly into Ianto's throat, cutting off his terrified gulp. The man above him grinned wickedly and tightened his grip on the handle of the gleaming knife. The assaulter chuckled deep in his chest and dug the blade in a little more to barely slice through the skin. Small beads of blood popped up but didn't drip.

"Sorry son, but you pushed me a little too far this time. I regret to say there won't be any more play times after I'm through."

Paralyzing fear rooted his feet in place. It really was his father holding the weapon poised to slit his throat. No amount of begging was going to go him out of this one, this time the unstable man was aiming to kill. Fighting was the only way he was possibly going to get out of it. So, for the first time in his life, Ianto drove his knee sharply between his father's legs and slipped away up the dark stairs. He ran without looking back, no room in his head for sympathy or regret. Only bone chilling fear ruled him now, and he was shocked at how grateful he was for the speed it lent his otherwise short legs.

Down the hall and into the boy's bedroom. Locking the door and trying to get the window open as fast as he could. This was the last time he would allow himself to be trampled on like this. As soon as he feet hit that pavement he would be sprinting to the police station. Harold would be behind bars and he could live his life freely...with whoever he wanted.

But to his dismay, the window wouldn't open.

His fingers fumbled violently with the latch and tugged upward in vain. Heavy foot-falls reached his ears and he began to pund the thick glass in unrestrained frustration. Complete terror fueled his movements now and he didn't think twice before smashing a heavy bronze award through the window. Tiny shards sprayed him as it burst into a million pieces, falling into a razor sharp puddle at Ianto's feet.

Freedom!

Ianto flung himself towards the empty frame with a strangled laugh, the only sound he could hope to produce at the moment. Not caring about the small blades jutting from the wood and cutting into the meaty flesh of his palms, the pursued balenced on the sill with both hands on either side of him for balence. With one deep, shuddering breath for comfort...

...he was yanked back into the room by the scruff of his neck. The boy fought vainly and ended up against the wall with his father spitting venom into his face. Red welts began to appear on his wrists from the furious twisting Harold did as he breathed, "Now look what you've gone and done. Cost me a perfectly good window. I was just going to slice your throat and be done with it, but no. You had to go and make me even angrier. Well I think we'll just prolong your suffering then, shall we? Just for you. The son that never did anything wrong..." Calloused fingers wrapped around Ianto's throat, constricting upon first contact. He whimpered helplessly and scraped a foot across the firt skin he came into contact with. It just so happened to be the shin, and he was rewarded by an annoyed was short lived however when a fist made a painful impact with his jaw, snapping his head back into the wall and covering his vision with dozens of blinking stars.

"You might as well just stop fighting son, we both know how this is going to end. I just have one regret," Harold's choking grew more urgent as he lifted Ianto into the air, sliding his back up the bricks, " and it's that your poor mother wasn't here to see this. I just know she would so enjoy the performance."

The hand at his throat made it nearly impossible to get any of the air filling the room, and his oxygeon starved limbs were twitching uncontrollably. Blackness began to press on the edges of his mind, beckoning to him temptingly. 'This is it.' Ianto thought, tears rolling over his cheeks now. 'I'm really going to die at the hands of my father...sorry I couldn't finish teaching you Jack.'

A sudden pain in his bottom jarred his eyes open and he began to blink immediately. Harsh sunlight was blinding his now unobstructed view of the broken window. No derranged father in his way, no hands around his throat and no knife in his chest. Subconciously he bagan to lightly rub his neck, trying to block out the memory of squeezing hands. What had happened? Ianto scanned the room with his eyes, still feeling too weak to move and found the most pleasantly shocking sight he'd ever seen.

Harold lay sprawled out of the floor, his fat mouth swollen even more and bleeding in a steady flow. Over him stood...Jack? Hand closed in a tight fist, the skin over his knuckles white with exertion. A hardness in those blue eyes that Ianto had never seen before, determination in his posture. How had he gotten out of the hospital? Did it even matter? He was here, he had saved him. That gaze turned to him now and softened instantly, but not all the way. There was still a spark of something...Anger? Rage?

"Ianto are you okay? Did he...do anything else to you? I oughta kill him now for beating you like this." Jack knelt beside him and looked him over earnestly, concern knitting his brow. "Are you really okay?"

The distance between them was barely a breath, and Ianto knew if he moved forward even a centimeter that their lips would touch. So, like the good boy he was, he pushed forward an inch.

The two were on each other in a tangle of lips and limbs, each one trying to tear the others shirt off first. In a surprising moment of gentleness, Jack picked up his bruised body and layed him carefully on the bed. The American settled on him again and smiled before...shouting.

"Get up you bloody wanker! You'll be late for that stupid job if you don't wake up!"

Electric light poured in as Ianto snapped open his eyes to Harold's unshaven face leaning over him. Depression washed through the boy upon realizing one of his eyes was still swollen shut, and there wasn't a beautiful mental patient on top of him. His father smacked a hand into his groin, calling Ianto's attention to the rather large tent in his pants.

"You better have been dreaming about naked girls, that's all I'm going to say." The older man stalked away into the kitchen without another word, scratching his butt the whole way.

Naked girls, as if.


"Jones you look an absolute mess! What did you do to yourself, get in a fight at the pub or something?" Owen asked genuinely before laughing and clapping a hand on the intern's sore shoulder. Well, all of him was sore to say the absolute least.

The make up he'd tried putting on had done nothing to cover the royal color of purple over his eye, but the swelling had gone down so he could see fine now. Bandages had been wrapped around his ribs and he wore a long sleeved white shirt under his baggiest, atrociously yellow scrubs. He had to agree with the doctor, he didn't look his best. Far from it if he was to be brutally honest. The pain still between his legs made it excrutating to walk and he did so with a limp that was very obvious. In his head, he thanked Owen with providing him with an excuse. He had drawn a blank on the way to the office of how to explain it, but god must be watching over him.

"Yeah actually. The guy thought I'd taken his seat or something...popped me a good one in the eye. He got thrown out though." Ianto said quickly and glanced towards the patient area, hoping to catch a glimpse of Jack.

"I feel ya buddy, I've had my share of good fights. I remember this one guy that hurled me into a table cause he thought I was trying to take his girl home. Although I was trying to take her home, to her house. There was no way she would have been able to drive. And what do I get for trying to be a friendly gentleman? Two broken ribs and three inch splinters up my arse. But I got up from that table and..."

"Oh don't go scaring Ianto off with your boring made up stories. Everyone knows you tend to exaggerate Owen." Tosh cut in, and for once the intern was glad to hear her candid voice. The nurse made her way over to him and touched the side of his face gently. He winced and she pulled away quickly, moving to the other side of the counter.

"He must've had one hell of a left hook." She smiled sympathetically and went back to filing papers. Owen was typing furiously on the computor, but looked up in the moment of silence.

"Don't get upset about it, it was your first fight right? We've all been there I'm sure. Just make sure to block next time." Ianto nodded and grinned weakly. If only he could block. Blocking earned him a hot iron to his bare back, just like getting home late got him a painting smashed over his head. These people would never know what that was like to be abused like he was. Great for them.

"Yeah it was my first fight. I'm not really the rough and tough kind of guy you know? I'm not all big and braver like you Dr. Harper." Owen shook his head and chuckled. "My name is Owen to you mister. Hey! Why don't you come to the bar with me tonight? I'll make sure nobody lays a hand on you eh?" The intern thought for a moment. If it was to a bar with alcohal and girls, sadly his dad wouldn't care if he was home late. Anything to give him the idea that his son wasn't a total snob.

"Yeah that sounds like a plan, don't think I'll be picking anyone up with this shiner though." He joked half heartedly and was surprised when he was answered with laughs all around. Tosh even looked up and grinned before turning back to her work. He almost excpected Owen to just say okay, he wasn't expecting the next tease.

"Forget the black eye, it'd be hard to pick up anyone with that face of yours." Everyone giggled, including Ianto. Working here really wasn't as bad as he'd expected. The employees were actually genuinely nice, not to mention one certain patient. The boy shuddered and tried to not think about his dream. It would not be appropriate to get hard in front of his bosses.

And speaking of the American...

"Is it all right if I go visit Jack real quick Tosh? I left something in there yesterday and I also left him kind of suddenly. He might be worried that something happened...I just want to make sure he knows everything's fine." And he wanted to make sure Jack knew the kiss wasn't what made him run out like he had.

Ianto shifted awkwardly at the silence that greeted him. Owen had stopped typing, fingers hovering over the keyboard. Tosh slowly stopped messing with papers and looked at him strangly. Was that...sympathy, in her gaze? The nurse spoke softly, as if to a forlorn child.

"Ianto...I thought you'd heard. Jack may be getting transferred to Torchwood. He's under lock down."


Wow I'm really typing a lot...yay! The ideas for this story just keep flooding my brain and I can't stop. Oh well, I'm sure you guys don't mind right? This is also making up for my sparse updating over the last month. Let me know what you think please, I love to hear your feedback! ~ NightWhisper666

PS- I'm on Internet Explorer at the moment, and it isn't helping me check my spelling. If there are any mistakes I'm so so sorry. As soon as I get on Firefox I will try to edit it.