I must apologise now for the extremely long wait, but if it's any consolation, I've finished writing it now. There're two more chapters, and the possibility of an epilogue, should people want there to be one.

Please read and review! Comments are what keep my muses alive and kicking!

Disclaimer: I only own Griffin, everything else is thanks to Russel T. Davies.


Chapter 3: Disaster Strikes

The end of the day was rolling around and the team were experiencing a rather welcome lull in the usual daily proceedings. After hours of deliberation, Ianto now took his chance to speak to Owen about Jack. He discreetly made his way down into the autopsy bay, where the medic was hiding, and leaned against the wall.

"Yes, tea-boy?" Owen asked wearily, not moving his eyes from the file he was reading. "Griffin got a cold again? I told Jack not to get worried every time he sneezed."

"It's not Griffin." Ianto replied, his tone flat and a little dark. Owen looked up instantly, inquisitively, inviting Ianto to carry on. "It's Jack. We're pretty sure he's… you know…"

It was still a slightly awkward topic for the two men, despite the fact that they were infinitely more involved in the proceedings than the two women, who took it in their stride. Owen just nodded, wanting to get the rest of the story out of Ianto. He wasn't dense enough to think that Ianto would react this way to the possibility of another baby. There was something more.

"The thing is, Jack's not dealing with it well… not at all, in fact. He denies it every time I try to bring it up and he's completely withdrawn when he's on his own. I can barely get through to him. The only time he seems himself is with Griff." Ianto sighed heavily, rubbing his eyes and avoiding Owen's expression.

"Well… without looking at Jack and doing tests, I can't really give an accurate diagnosis, you know that." He chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment whilst he mulled over his thoughts. "I think we also both know that he's not going to let me do tests, but I do know what you're talking about… I've caught him staring off into space when he's alone in his office."

"As much as I hate to say it, I'm worried that he'll do something… That he'll kill himself or something." Ianto muttered, looking embarrassed with himself for saying it. He felt guilty as soon as he spoke the words, like he was betraying the man he loved. "Only if it gets worse though."

"Don't worry Ianto, nothing we say here's going to leave the room." Owen was in his professional mode, something Ianto was exceedingly glad about. "It sounds to me like he's depressed, which I'm sure you'd agree with. From experience, we can't give him drugs because his body burns them up too quickly. Rapidly fluctuating moods and mental alterations aren't going to do him any good."

The two men looked at each other hard. A message seemed to go between them without being spoken, something that Owen grimaced at and made Ianto feel his stomach drop through his feet. Ianto simply nodded and headed up the stairs, turning briefly as Owen called him.

"Ianto?" He met the medic's sympathetic eyes. "I've got to try to talk to him. I've got to make sure he knows all the options, you know that."

"Yeah," The young man felt himself deflate a little further. "I'm going to be down in the archives… Tosh and Gwen have taken Griffin out, I'd go talk to him now if I were you."

Ianto carried on his walk and headed steadily through the hub, ignoring the darkened office that was so eerily quiet. There was no angry yelling at a UNIT or governmental official over the phone, no playful banter with the local police force, no innuendos drifting out to him in the hope of a new cup of coffee. It was still. He carried on, suppressing the anxiety burning in his chest, ignoring the sympathetic grimace of Owen as he emerged from the autopsy bay and made his way to the office next door.

Owen knocked gently on the slightly open door, but didn't wait for a reply to enter. He stepped inside and stood a few feet away from the desk with his hands in his pockets. He watched Jack as the captain slowly drew his eyes away from the spot on the wall he'd been inspecting and swivelled in his seat to face him.

"What can I help you with, Owen?" he asked casually, his tone that of non-chalence. Jack's eyes were distant, his expression weary.

"I think it's the other way round, Jack." Owen's words seemed to hit him, and a small amount of the forced bravado slipped away. "We need to have a pretty serious talk."

"It's just the flu, I'll be fine in a few days." Jack's words were commanding and his eyes fixed Owen's forcefully.

"Don't get cute with me, Harkness." Owen looked at him scathingly. "It's not the flu, it's not an illness at all. Whatever you're telling yourself it is, it needs to stop. You're doing more harm to the both of you than good."

Jack opened his mouth to interrupt, but Owen cut him off. "I understand that it's another huge change to your lives, but as much as it pains me to say it, you're hurting Ianto and soon you'll be hurting Griffin. They need you and you need to stop this and face up to what's happening."

Jack slumped completely, resigned to what Owen was saying. He closed his mouth and looked away. Owen just dogged on with what he had to say. "Once you've accepted it, there's two options; work through this all and carry on or have a termination."

"No," Jack snarled, sitting up sharply and slamming his hands down on the desk, glaring at the medic.

"Well then, buck up your ideas and try not to wallow in too much self-pity." Owen challenged, fighting back a smirk. "I would give you something to help you get through the next few months, but there's nothing that wouldn't just mess your mind up. You're a very hard person to medicate, Jack. All I can say is that I'll be monitoring you and we'll stick with this as long as possible. The moment there's any danger to you or the baby, I'll operate, but not a moment sooner. You can trust me on that."

They continued to look at each other grudgingly for a moment more before Owen silently turned and left the office. I really should get a raise for this, he thought, slipping back into his usual persona.


The next few months saw the team becoming increasingly concerned with Jack's behaviour. At first, Jack had been fine, he'd snapped out of whatever was holding him under and the team had enjoyed having him back, especially Ianto. However, he'd soon started to slip away again, within several weeks. Owen had told the two women the situation as soon as they'd handed Griffin over to Ianto on that first evening, and since then the three had been on alert for both Jack and Ianto.

Jack was obvious. The aim was to stop him, at all costs, killing himself. He was in shock, probably suffering from depression due the unplanned pregnancy. If he was dead for the usual ten to twenty minutes then the baby would be brain damaged, or dead. That was the last thing that any of them wanted to happen. By roughly the six month mark, Owen had a complete operating tray set up and shelved for easy access should the time arise.

When it came to Ianto, the three needed to support him more than usual. They needed to take some of his jobs and look after Griffin when needs be. Gwen and Rhys took him for more days out and Tosh managed to cut back on his administration tasks. All he really had to do now was keep the archive up to date and go on runs.

They'd soon worked out that someone needed to stay in the hub with Jack at all times, and by about the four months mark, Ianto had forced him to stop going on runs. That left the usual team of five for callouts at a queasy total of three. However, they pulled together and made it work.

Jack had steadily become quieter and darker, only talking to anyone but Ianto on occasion. Even when he did talk to the young man, he was barely there, something which caused Ianto to become extremely concerned over. The only thing that could pull him back, even for a little while, was looking after Griffin. Ianto reasoned that as soon as their son couldn't get through to him, they were running out of time.

Owen and Ianto became increasingly more stressed as the weeks progressed. When they were safely past twenty four weeks, Ianto began to lose sleep. When they were at twenty eight weeks, he'd developed full blown, stress related insomnia, something which Owen tried to treat with sleeping pills. By thirty four weeks, Owen had given up on trying to get Ianto to sleep as he himself was succumbing to the stress. The two had become surprisingly companionable over the past week.

It was partly thanks to this newly forged friendship that what happened that evening wasn't the disaster it could so easily have been.


For the past week, Jack had slept more, only waking for long enough to sign a few documents and have a cup of coffee. Ianto forced him to eat; the source of many arguments between them. He also tried to get Jack to look after Griffin more often, but the man had practically ignored the little boy for several days now.

As was the usual Thursday afternoon plan, Tosh and Gwen took Griffin for a walk to the local playground, getting the little boy (and themselves) out of the hub and into an atmosphere that was infinitely lighter and happier for all of them. Owen was down in the autopsy bay, flicking through some filing he was reluctantly finishing, humming something that sounded to Ianto like the Rolling Stones. The young man managed a smile as he dropped the coffee for the medic off before bracing himself and heading into Jack's office.

Tonight was different to usual, Jack was sitting at his desk, his chin resting on one of his hands, his elbow on the desk. His gun was lying on the table and he was staring off into space. Ianto tried to ignore the scene in front of him, but he caught a glimpse of Jack's eyes. It was normal for Ianto to see them this empty, this distant and pained. It was like a stab to the gut each time he glanced at them, to the point where he'd avoided them for the past couple of days.

"Here's your coffee." Ianto put the coffee mug down with a little more force than necessary, the sight of the uneaten food on his desk making him angry.

"What's the problem, Ianto?" Jack's voice was just as distant and empty as his eyes.

"Why haven't you eaten?" Ianto managed to reign himself in and kept a gentle, inviting tone in his voice.

"I wasn't hungry." Jack said flatly, looking away at the wall again. Ianto didn't make a move to say anything else, something which made Jack look back. "You standing there and watching me isn't going to make me eat, you know."

"I know." Ianto forced himself to look back at Jack's eyes and he felt a strange happiness to see a flash of annoyance in them. It was a start, at least. "You need to eat, Jack, even if you aren't hungry."

"Isn't it enough that I'm still alive here?" Jack growled, spitting his words out contemptuously. Ianto felt a stab of hurt somewhere deep inside, but he was immensely surprised to see Jack suddenly remorseful, regret glittering where the annoyance had been. "I'm sorry Ianto, I just keep messing everything up, don't I?"

Ianto paid full attention, freezing in position. Jack hadn't apologised for a long, long time. "Jack… what's wrong?"

"Everything's wrong!" He looked at Ianto desperately, imploringly. "I shouldn't be putting you through this, Yan! We shouldn't be in this mess and I should've done this a long time ago."

Before Ianto could begin to protest, Jack had picked up the gun, placed it to his chin with a look of deep apology and remorse, and fired. There was a sickening crunch and Jack's lifeless head lolled back against the chair, his arm falling to his side limply as the gun clattered on the concrete floor.