Chapter Seven

Océane: well, yeah. Here's the chapter, I own nothing but the plot, and don't sue.

John: you're mopey today.

Océane: congrats. Give the idiot a metal. Sorry I've been MIA… My mom put me on probation from FanFiction. Which leads me to explaining the rating. It's M. Live with it.

John: ooohhh… somebody got busted. Wait, let me guess: your mom… *Interrupted*

Océane: Wanted: assistance character who has a brain and self-preservation instincts. Here's the fic. Don't like don't read.

DEATH_

Reappearance and answers

Jack turned back around, just in time to see another wormhole flash into life. However, this one snapped out of reality a millisecond after it opened.

In its place, was John.

John lay on the ground, sobbing weakly. He didn't notice that he had moved, or even that there were people there. All he knew was that he felt pain. And a lot of it.

Jack ran over, kneeling down beside John. He couldn't speak, couldn't even think of what question to ask first. With shaking hands, Jack reached out, trying to touch John's shoulder. The moment John felt Jack's presence, he curled tighter into a knot, clutching his legs to his chest in an attempt to protect himself. Finally, Jack swallowed, whispering one word.

"John…"

John blinked, biting his lip to hold in his tears. It didn't work, and soon, tears were streaming down his face. It was all just too much for him. Pain, death, pain, joy, freedom. There wasn't anything he could do anymore. All he managed around the soreness of his body was roll over, meeting Jack's eyes.

Once again, John started crying. "Jack…" He moaned, pausing to cough. John blinked, tasting the metallic tang of blood in his mouth. Shit.

Jack smiled weakly. John shut his eyes, lest Jack disappear again. He felt a soft touch, gently lifting him into a sitting position. John shuddered, pressing his mind towards Jack's. But a sharp, piercing ringing shot down his hopes.

John buried his face in Jack's shirt, unable to do much more than cry. He felt so damn useless. Unable to speak, unable to move, unable to even breathe without feeling like there was a knife in his side. Jack ran his hands along John's sides, freezing when John winced. It was then that Jack's eyes adjusted to the darkness, and he noticed just how bad of a shape John was in.

"John…" Jack managed to choke out, lifting the other man's face so he could examine the expression. "What happened?"

It wasn't really a question, but John couldn't answer it. He swallowed, meeting Jack's eyes. He pulled his head away, placing it once more on the soft, comforting material of Jack's shirt. He smelled nice, and right. The thought soothed John, enough that he managed to think something coherent.

'Nothing you need to be concerned with babe.' Whether or not Jack heard him, it didn't matter. One lie was the same as all the others.

Jack sighed, indicating that he had indeed heard him.

"John, this is important. What Happened?"

John shook his head again, wincing as the ringing returned. Damn it. His head must have gotten banged up pretty bad if it was affecting their link. Then again, hadn't all of him?

"Jack! Why's he back here?" Gwen screamed, having woken up. John winced again, clutching at Jack's suspenders. He didn't have to speak – Jack knew him well enough that he understood.

'Hide me.'

"Gwen," Jack replied calmly, and quietly enough that John didn't feel like his head was going to explode. "Shut up please."

Shocked, Gwen obeyed. John relaxed, squeezing his eyes shut and praying that he wouldn't cry anymore. Only children cried. That's what they had told him. Tenderly, Jack traced the side of John's face, wiping away the stray tear.

"John, please." Jack begged. "Tell me what happened. Please."

John swallowed, hoping that his voice would work.

"I went home. And…" he shuddered, forcing the memories out of his head. "And I hadn't done what they wanted. The Agency was pissed. My mother and father were furious. They told me…"

John let his voice die. Jack didn't need to know everything he had learned.

Jack let out a soft breath. "Alright John. I won't ask." Cautiously, Jack shifted his grip, so that he could lift John. "I'm going to pick you up, alright?"

John clutched him tighter. 'Don't leave me. Please. They'll come back for me if you leave me.'

The tears came again. Silently, John cursed himself. 'Weakling. Can't even take a beating without bursting into tears. You should've been a girl. Just another thing wrong with you.'

Jack sighed, taking John into his arms and carrying him over top the SUV.

"John, close your eyes." He requested gently. John glanced up, confused. Jack smiled kindly. "The light will hurt if it hits your eyes."

Obediently, John shut his eyes, trusting Jack not to do anything. The others, not so much.

"Owen." Jack called out softly, placing John down next to the Range Rover. "Can you get the Med-bag out of the back?" Owen made some response, but John only heard Jack's growled reply.

"I'm not expecting you to Owen. That's why I'M taking care of him." John shivered, cuddling closer to Jack's body heat.

"Shh, it's alright John." Jack soothed, combing his fingers through John's hair. "You can open your eyes now."

John blinked, adjusting his eyes to the light. Distrustful, he glanced around the group, releasing Jack's shirt. All eyes were on him. All held nothing that spoke well for him. John bit back a sob, drawing his knees up to his chin. He pulled himself into the tightest ball he could, wishing that that would protect him from their glares, like it did from a beating.

Owen placed a backpack next to Jack, snorting. "I don't even know why you still care about the freak."

John's heart dropped. That's what he was, after all. If the man and woman who had raised him thought that he was cursed, why should anyone else think differently? Why should Jack think differently?

To John's surprise, Jack was on his feet before Owen had even finished his statement.

"Never say that about him again." Jack ordered. John's head snapped up in shock, to watch Jack's expression. Jack's eyes blazed, and it was clear that he was resisting the urge to slug Owen one hell of one in the eye.

"Ever." Jack snapped. Owen blinked, taken aback by Jack's tone.

"Alright." He spat out, eyes wide.

Jack growled. "Get the hell out of my sight. Now. And don't come back until you're ready to take it back."

Owen shrugged, moving to the other side of the SUV. It was clear that he wouldn't be back for a while. Jack sat down next to John once more, addressing the remains of the team.

"Any of you that think the same way as him can do the same."

One by one, the other three left, until it was just Jack and John sitting there. Tosh was the last one to leave, her hand over her mouth and tears in her eyes.

When Jack spoke again, his voice was soft. "John, I need to be able to take care of you. I promise, I'll be quick. But I need to be able to see where your hurt." Jack smiled softly, placing one hand on John's knee. "I need you to get yourself out of that knot so I can actually see what I'm dealing with, alright?"

Tiredly, John nodded. To tell the truth, he was exhausted. So he didn't put up any resistance to Jack's examination. After nearly every inch of his body had been bandaged, splinted, or coated in iodine, John moaned.

"You aren't going to ask me to talk again, are you?"

Jack sat back on his heels, smiling kindly. "Only if you'll talk to me about it."

John sighed, pulling his knees up to his chest, but wincing as he did so. Jack smiled again.

"I suggest you don't do that," He placed a hand on John's knee, gently pressing them back to the ground. "Until we have a chance to get you under the scanner."

John nodded weakly, then snapped upright as Jack stood.

"Where are you going?" He demanded, grabbing Jack's hand. Jack sighed.

"I'm just going to talk to the others. I swear, if you need anything, I'll be able to hear you perfectly."

John bit his lip, but nodded. He wasn't entirely comfortable with Jack leaving, but he managed to settle himself. Jack took off his coat, and wrapped it around John's shoulders.

"I'll be right back. I promise."

With that, he walked around the SUV, where the others could be heard talking. John leaned back, listening to their conversation.

"He's in pretty bad shape." Jack admitted, despite the fact John hadn't heard anyone ask. "From what I can tell, he's got at least three cracked ribs, four broken fingers, a snapped wrist, and a fractured collarbone and tibia." Jack paused for a breath. "He's also got a nasty cut down his side, I think he has a concussion and god knows what other damage internally. The rest are just relatively minor cuts and bruises."

Tosh spoke, almost too quietly for John to hear. "Why would anyone do that? And how? He was only gone for a second."

"Tosh, if I knew that, then I wouldn't be working for Torchwood." Jack admitted. "All I can assume is that his parents had something to do with it. And as for how… I'd say that… to him, he was gone for at least an hour. His VM must have saved these co-ordinates, so when he tried to Jump, it sent him here."

"I have a more important question." Gwen piped up. John grinned bitterly. He'd been waiting for her to speak.

"What Gwen?" Jack asked, as if admitting defeat before he even started.

"Why the hell are you even taking care of him?" She demanded. John's heart stopped dead, more tears climbing from his eyes. Gwen continued to complain.

"I mean, he did try to kill us all. And he almost destroyed Cardiff. Why do you want to help him? Isn't this what he deserves?"

John gasped for air, the temporary wall he had erected to keep back his memories snapping.

'This is what you deserve. Freak. You ruined everything.' His mother sneered, held tightly in her husband's arms.

'You never really were our son.'

John couldn't breathe. Every movement felt like he was burning alive.

'What…'

'You're a freak.' His brother laughed – no, not his brother. Not anymore. Never his brother. Another lie. Everything a lie. 'You always deserved this. Since you were first born you were cursed.'

John's mother – no. Not mother. Not his mom. John didn't have a mom anymore. John's family died. They had always been dead. She nodded.

John felt still more of his blood smear across the floor, his brother – no, not his brother – press harder into him. Unable to breathe, to speak, even to think, John screamed.

John's eyes snapped open. Dumbly, he searched his surroundings. Then, reality came back to him. He set his head back against the SUV, his pulse pounding.

He didn't have a family anymore. He was wrong. A toy for the Time Agency to test. A thing to be used. That was the only reason They had taken him. They wanted him to bring their family into the limelight. They wanted their son to be married to a celebrity.

John swallowed, slamming another wall back up, stronger this time. He didn't need to remember. It was over. He would heal, time would take it away, and his once-family would fade, like murder rehab had. Like high school had. Like Jack had.

John felt nauseous, as he began to listen to the other's conversation once more. Owen was speaking.

"Sorry Jack. I'm not treating him. No matter how hard you beg me. No."

"Owen!" Tosh cried. John closed his eyes. She sounded like she was crying. "You can't just let him die!"

"The hell I can't."

"Then you're worse than him." Tosh replied. Owen was silent. "Owen, if you won't do one damn decent thing to help another human being, then you don't deserve that medical degree. And if I'm the only one here that can see he's in pain, then you're all blind, or stupid. I don't know which."

Jack sighed. "I was going to say something else, but I think Tosh has covered everything."

Finally, Ianto spoke. "Why?" then, he clarified his statement, so as not to be asking the same rude question as Gwen. "Why did he act like that, happy one minute, then miserable the next?"

"John…" Jack searched for the right term. John bit his lip, toughing through the pain to stand. This wasn't Jack's to explain. It was his.

"He isn't a freak. He isn't wrong. Hell, he isn't even crazy." By the silence following that statement, John could tell none of the others believed him. "John is normal." Jack insisted. "He's just sick. He just needs help. And we're the only ones that can help him."

"Why is it our job?" Gwen demanded. "Surely there's some nut house he can go to to get better."

John shivered, leaning heavily on the SUV to support him. Wincing with every step, he started to move around the car. Jack began to speak once again.

"No Gwen. I refuse to send him to an asylum. He isn't crazy." John could feel the disgust in Jack's statement. "The last time he went to one of those, everyone behaved like Owen. I refuse to put him – or Anyone – through that. Ever. And that is final."

"Plus it'd screw up time." John shrugged, walking up to Jack. "They'd probably be freak'd ou' by my-" His voice collapsed into a coughing fit. Jack smiled tenderly at him, wrapping a supportive arm around him. Immediately, John felt infinitely safer. They couldn't get to him.

"Hey." Jack smirked at him, forgetting the others for a minute. "I didn't think you would be up and moving around yet."

John grinned sheepishly. "Ah, you know me." He coughed again, instinctively cuddling closer to Jack. "I got curious. Thought you all were havin' a party or something without me."

Jack smiled at him once again. Then, he turned to the remainder of the group.

"We're going to have to avoid ourselves for a while. Just for tonight." He glanced over at Ianto. "Ianto, could you see if there's anywhere not connected to any of us that we can stay around here. I mean, besides the obvious."

To John's surprise, Ianto smiled. "Sure."

Ten minutes later, Ianto had found a small hotel about as far from the Plass as it could get. John handed Jack his coat, smiling for the first time in what felt like Years.

They were all climbing into the SUV when John first had trouble. Owen claimed driving, and Gwen sat next to him. It was clear those two got along very well. Tosh sat in one of the back seats, and Ianto sat next to her. John had the feeling that he very much Wasn't wanted by any of the people up front, so he started to climb into the back.

As he started to pull himself into the back of the SUV, the gash in his side tore open. John cried out, falling out once again. Immediately, Jack was standing next to him, helping him to his feet.

"You shouldn't try to move around too much." Jack chided, hefting John into the back of the SUV. John grinned.

"And you already know how well I take care of myself." If the marks on his arms were anything to be judged by…

Jack laughed softly, climbing into the car next to him, and slamming the trunk closed.

"It never hurts to try to teach you something new."

John grinned wryly, as Owen started the engine. Jack wrapped a protective arm around his shoulders, pulling him close as they both leaned back against the door.

"Jack, you should be up front with your team." John sighed, pushing Jack away weakly. "They deserve some explanations more than I do."

Jack shook his head. "No, they don't." the SUV shook, jostling them uncomfortably. "Plus, I don't think I would be very welcome at the moment."

John glanced forward, just in time to glimpse the slightest blush on Tosh's face. The ringing that had been blocking his thoughts earlier had subsided, but he still couldn't link to Jack. Maybe in a little bit he could, but right then, he was too tired to push it.

After about a minute of awkward silence, Jack spoke again.

"So, how're you feeling?"

John grinned. "There's three parts of me." He explained, counting them off on his fingers like a kid. "There's the part that's Beeeat…" He exaggerated the last word, because honestly, he really wanted to sleep. "There's the part that wants to get hammered, fucked and forget about life…" John felt Jack smile. "And you very well know the third part."

Jack nodded. "I sure do." Gently, he kissed the top of John's head, as John leaned against his shoulder. "And I'm not sure about that part, but I'm positive that I can do something about the first one." Jack sighed, murmuring into John's hair. "And I think we could come up with something for the second part."

John lifted his head, grinning. "Does that mean I get to keep you awake all night?"

Jack smirked. "Not a chance. And you aren't getting drunk either." John pouted. "Hey, you know very well what the Doctor would say if he found out I'd let a person who'd just gotten the crap kicked out of them have alcohol!"

John grinned, putting his head back on Jack's shoulder. Yes, he knew very well what the Doctor would say. From John's brief encounter, he managed to get a pretty clear picture.

"Yeah. I'd assume It'd be somewhere along the lines of 'Jack, you idiot, don't you know… blah blah blah and a lot of techno-babble'. And not the therapeutic kind."

Jack grinned. "Yeup. Unfortunately, you might not be so happy with how the 'forgetting life' works."

"Why not?"

"'Cause the Retcon probably would burn off."

John smirked, nodding. Ianto turned around, one eyebrow raised.

"How do you figure sir?" He asked. Jack smiled. John raised an eyebrow.

"He called you sir. It must be serious." He whispered. Jack rolled his eyes, then answered Ianto's question.

"Well, for one, I've broken Retcon 32 times. All of which I remember being dosed clearly." John could hear Gwen's indignant snort. 'She probably broke it once and assumed she was special. Typical.'

"And secondly, John and I have higher metabolism rates than most other people we give it to." Jack concluded. "So it'd burn off faster. Hence cranky John in the morning."

"I'm always cranky in the morning." John muttered.

"Yes, I know." Jack sighed. If anyone were to know the mayhem of dealing with John in the morning first-hand, it would be him.

Tosh turned around also. 'Honestly.' John thought. 'These people have no self-preservation instincts. Don't they know that these things are moving oil bombs? Then again… I'm being hypocritical again.'

"Why's that?" Tosh wondered. Jack grinned.

"Really?" Both Ianto and Tosh nodded. John smirked, listening to the inevitable response.

"Give humanity another Three THOUSAND years to evolve, and yeah, their metabolism's going to speed up. Along with other body processes." Jack glanced down at John, and rubbed his arm soothingly.

Gwen's indignant squawk came from the passenger's seat then. "Three thousand years?" John bit back a laugh. "You are both nuts! There's no way either of you-"

"Thirteen seventy fifty-twenty-two" "Ninety four fifty-twenty-four" Both of them recited. Gwen was silent. John grinned.

"You so owe me five bucks."

"What were those dates?" Ianto asked. Jack grinned.

"Dates of graduation in our respective calendars."

Tosh blinked, then spoke. "So, what else is different? Because you both look like twenty-first century humans."

"Well, healing rate speeds up after WWIII" John stated. Jack pinched him slightly. "Ow! What was that for?"

"Timelines. You, not knowing them." John rolled his eyes. "And that would be why we can't take John here to a hospital. He'd freak out most of the staff."

"So it wasn't just to torture me." Owen muttered. Jack sighed.

"No, Owen, it wasn't. And I'm not Deaf." As if on an afterthought, Jack muttered, "Or dead yet."

"Don't say that." John pleaded, wrapping his arms around Jack. "I don't want to think about it."

Jack sighed. "Alright. None of the 'D' word for the rest of the night. Is that okay?"

John nodded, fixating on the floor in front of him.

The SUV stayed silent for a long time. Finally, John spoke.

"They said I was wrong." He whispered, so that only Jack could hear it. "Most of the blood… it isn't mine." John felt Jack relax, starting to rub soothing circles in his arm. "They weren't my family. They lied. I – I knew that she hadn't carried me, but… they never were my family. It was all a lie. They wanted Chad to… they wanted him to get famous. The two… they smiled. It was all just a plan for their name to get into the records. They let him... They locked me in my room, and… Chad had me. They said I was wrong."

Jack froze, as John began to cry again. He couldn't keep his voice down anymore, so he mumbled the rest into Jack's shirt.

"John, you know that isn't true." Jack complained. John nodded, contradicting him.

Before they had a chance to debate what John had said, Owen stopped the SUV.

"We're here." He snapped, getting out. Gwen followed suit just as rapidly. With a glance backwards, Tosh slid out as well. Finally, after Jack's insistent glances, Ianto got out.

"I don't think you have to come in yet." Jack assured John, opening the back hatch. "Once we get rooms, I can come and get you."

John's eyes went wide.

"No." He pleaded. Jack froze, realizing his mistake. "Don't leave me out here alone. The Agency'll find me again." John confided in a hushed whisper.

Slowly, Jack nodded. "Alright."

At that moment, Tosh walked over.

"Jack if you want me to… I could…" she stumbled over her words, but neither of them rushed her. "I could stay here with John while you check in."

Jack bit his lip before responding. "I think that should be fine, unless…" he glanced sideways at John.

He grinned, sliding over to make room on the tailgate for Tosh. "So long as you aren't allergic to ultra-sexy men from the future, it'd be fine by me."

Tosh smiled shyly. "Well, then…" She climbed up next to John, winking at Jack. "I think we will get along fine."

Jack blinked, then grinned. "Well, it's good to see someone doesn't want to …" he paused, correcting his statement to avoid using the bad 'd' or 'k' words (also the 'm', 'h', and 'c' words). "… severely cause John bodily harm."

With that, he started to walk off, following the others.

"Jack." John called out. He turned around, smiling.

"Yeah?"

"Can I… Umm…" John tried to get around his embarrassment. "Can I bunk with you tonight?" He finally asked. "Just so I… Umm… not like …" He tried to clarify.

Jack smiled, nodding. "Of course you can John."

John let out a breath he had unknowingly been holding. "Thanks."

Jack grinned, nodding before he started after the others.

Tosh smiled softly, starting to talk to John.

"Well, that was an interesting way to put it." She commented. John grinned.

"Jack and I agreed to avoid the word, um…" John dragged up his ancient Spanish lessons. "– muerte – for the night…" and that was all John said on the topic. Tosh sensed his change of mood, and shifted her comments accordingly.

"I … um…" she stumbled, unable to form a valid sentence. Fortunately, John had something he needed to get off his chest.

"I'm sorry." He admitted. Tosh blinked.

"Why? You didn't do anything."

"Yes, I did." John sighed. "I'm sorry for putting you all through hell. Especially you. You were nice to me." John grinned at her, before turning back to face the wall. "And I repaid you by knocking you out and hurting Owen."

"Owen deserved it." Tosh snapped, reaching out to take John's hand. He blinked, meeting her eyes. Tosh smiled.

"If he's fully willing to break his Hippocratic Oath for a personal grudge and Gwen getting a good scare, he deserves a lot more than what you gave him." Tosh grinned wickedly. "I would've put him through the seventh layer of Hell by now."

John laughed. "You're quite the devious techie, aren't you?" Tosh nodded.

"Not usually around the others, but…" she tilted her head sideways, smiling serenely. "There's something about you that isn't like anyone else. Jack too."

John snorted. "Pheromones. They're hell on the 21st century mind."

Tosh smirked. "Not quite, but maybe…"

John felt a blush growing, so he quickly changed the topic.

"So, you lot have a Pterosaur?"

Tosh laughed. "You know, you're the first not to call her a Pterodactyl?"

John rolled his eyes. "Well, duh. It's too bloody big to be a Pterodactyl mate."

"Ianto would be happy not to have to correct someone on that for once." Tosh assured him. "Literally, it's practically the first thing he says to anyone. 'She's not a pterodactyl'." Tosh tried to impersonate Ianto's voice, but it came out very wrong.

John laughed. "So, what's her name?"

"Myfanwy." Tosh pronounced.

John crossed his eyes. "So my lessons in Welsh and Gaelic are going to be useful then?"

Tosh laughed. "Well, John, you are in Wales. It would be helpful."

John grinned, before his vision went white. Weakly, he fell against the wall of the SUV.

"John!" Tosh cried, trying to support him. To her surprise, he was relatively light. Too light, Tosh suspected, noticing the thin marks that showed as his Jacket sleeves pulled up. It was then that she was positive, John was hiding more than Jack had let on – Much more.

"I'm fine…" He muttered, pulling his hand away.

Tosh set her jaw, refusing to take that as an answer. "The hell you are." She retorted, pressing a hand to John's forehead. "You're running a fever. And I doubt that you told any of us the truth about how you really were feeling. Especially Jack."

John blinked, then pulled away. "Why do you say that?"

Tosh pointed to his arms. "I know the signs John." She muttered. "And I'm not stupid."

John blushed. "The fever's just blood loss." He couldn't explain away the scars, but he somehow knew that Tosh wouldn't tell anyone.

She nodded. "That would make sense. And with your faster metabolism, it would set in quicker… how long has it been since you've eaten a decent meal?"

John's blush deepened. "Ummm…" he bit his lip, meeting Tosh's eyes. They dared him to screw around. He looked away, speaking to the ground. "Before Natalie – the woman from the hologram." He explained.

Tosh blinked. "Which was exactly how long ago?"

John swallowed. "Seventeen days ago…" he muttered.

"John!" Tosh snapped. "You starved yourself for over two weeks, with a metabolism rate like yours? It's frankly amazing that you aren't dead yet. And with your trauma!"

John held up a hand. "Please, Tosh. I know, it's stupid. But it's the only thing I can do to make the guilt bearable." Well, that and the counting.

"John…" Tosh breathed, starting to see him in a new light. "Why? Is it that bad?"

John nodded, sniffing. "After you hit ten, then twenty, then thirty, on and on and on… it's the only thing you can do to convince yourself that you're still human." John swallowed, meeting her eyes once again. "Please, just … don't tell Jack."

Tosh nodded, sympathizing with him. Softly, she took his hand.

"I won't." she assured him. "Just promise me that you'll eat something."

"I don't know if I can." He mumbled. Tosh smiled.

"Of course you can." She leaned close to him, whispering in his ear, "Because I forgive you."

John smiled, nodding. "Thank you." He mumbled. Tosh smiled kindly, squeezing his hand reassuringly.

"It's high time someone said it."

At that moment, Jack chose to show up. He smirked, glancing between the two of them.

"I'm not sure who to suspect first. Tosh for getting a wild hair, or you for seducing my computer geek." He grinned. Tosh blushed, and John paled considerably. Jack just laughed.

"I'm kidding. Com'on, we're checked in." He grinned, offering Tosh a hand out of the SUV. She took it, and climbed out. Then, Jack helped John out, wrapping an arm around his waist when John tripped.

After five minutes of slowly limping, being carried and receiving weird glances, Jack unlocked the door to their room. It was small, with a table and couch crammed into a corner near the window. Next to the door, a small open area led to the bathroom.

But the one thing that really set John's heart to ease was the fact that there were two beds.

John smiled. Earlier, he might have been depressed at having missed a chance to share a bed with Jack, but right then, he wasn't up to the challenge. If they were left alone for long enough, John probably would have wound up caving and the two of them would have gotten thoroughly fucked.

So yeah, two beds were a good idea.

Jack sighed, noticing John leaning against the wall.

"I'd normally suggest reminiscing until dawn, but in light of recent events…"

John nodded. Jack took this to mean that he either was nauseous, or just too tired to respond.

"John, I'd like to check that all of your bandages are holding."

John moaned, pushing himself off the wall to sit down on one of the beds.

"Can't it wait until tomorrow?" he asked wearily. "'Cause I'm knackered."

Jack sighed. "Alright, I guess. Just…"

His statement was interrupted, because John had already taken his boots off, and was fast asleep on top of the covers. Jack smiled. Some things Never change.

DEATH_

A few minutes later, Tosh knocked on the door. Jack answered, smirking.

"Oh, hi Jack. I just wanted to see how John's doing." Tosh blushed, as if embarrassed by her own concern. Jack smiled, glancing behind him to the sleeping John.

"Sorry Tosh," Jack whispered, watching John's eyelids flicker in his sleep. "He literally just passed out."

"Without eating?" She worried. Jack nodded.

"He pleaded me to not even check his bandages until tomorrow." Jack grinned. "Hell, didn't even bother getting most of the blood off."

Tosh blinked. "I'll take it that's unusual."

Jack nodded. "Extremely. He used to be able to go twenty hours straight, and always showered off after…" He shook his head, dispelling the memories. "Anyway, yeah, you can come in and check on him." Jack stepped back, holding the door open for Tosh. She smiled, walking over to John's bedside.

"John," she sighed, gently shaking him. "Wake up. You promised me you'd eat something."

John's eyelids fluttered, and he turned his head to face her.

"I'll eat something for breakfast." He moaned. "Swear."

Jack smirked, as Tosh tried to pry one of John's eyes open.

"No. You are going to get up NOW and eat something." She ordered, sounding more like a high-school nurse than a mother hen.

John groaned. "Tosh… Please." He whined, opening one eye (not the one that Tosh was holding open). "I jus' wanna' sleep…"

Jack smiled, as Tosh opened her mouth to make some retort. She closed her mouth when Jack placed a hand on her arm, pulling her back slightly. Tosh glanced at him, then sighed, turning back to John.

"Alright." She sighed. Tosh pushed John's hair back from his forehead and, after a moment's hesitation, planted a small kiss of his temple.

"Just so long as you promise." John smiled slightly, as Tosh continued. "Goodnight John."

"'Night." He muttered back, before falling silent.

After saying goodnight to Jack, Tosh left.

Jack sighed, sitting down on the edge of John's bed. Gently, he pushed John's messy hair back from his face. John smiled slightly in his sleep, and Jack once again was amazed at how innocent he seemed while sleeping. It was as if, after he had washed all the blood and muck from the day off, his mind purged the images as well.

It still never ceased to be astounding to Jack how rapidly his friend's demeanor could change because of something as simple as sleep. When John was awake, he was a tough, hard-hearted agent. He never cried until he was positive that they were alone in their apartment. But when asleep… he seemed to be his age once his eyes closed. Like all of the stress and aging washed off of him and he was a kid again.

After all, Jack thought, he's younger than almost anyone in Torchwood, except…

At that moment, another knock came from the door. Jack sighed, still smiling at the thought. When he opened the door, his smile widened.

"Hey Ianto." Jack grinned. (Speak of the archivist and he WILL show up…)

"Hello… Sir." Ianto replied, hesitant. Jack rolled his eyes.

"How many times have I told you to stop calling me that?"

Ianto started to examine his shoes. (They were very nice shoes. Very…shoey.)

"Twenty times Si- Jack…" He muttered, correcting himself half-way through. Ianto blushed, as Jack's smile widened.

"I assume you want to come in?" He smirked. Ianto nodded.

"I just – after everything…" Ianto searched for the right words, before finally setting on, "I figured you'd want company."

Jack shrugged, stepping backwards so Ianto could come in. Ianto smiled slightly, following Jack into the room. The first thing he noticed was John, asleep and fully dressed, lying on top of the covers.

Ianto blinked, surprised by the first thought that came to mind.

'He looks like a kid who's fallen asleep after finishing some project…'

Jack smiled, as if he had just had the same thought.

"I guess it would be pointless of me to say make yourself at home…" He muttered, glancing backwards at Ianto. The younger man smiled slightly, sitting down on the couch.

Jack watched him for a moment, before sitting gently on the edge of John's bed. Ianto watched, his curiosity growing, as Jack gently traced John's features as he slept. A small feeling rose in his chest, but Ianto couldn't quite place it, but when he did, he felt his eyes widen slightly.

He was jealous.

Ianto swallowed, forgetting the feeling for the moment. He resumed watching Jack, until the other man's expression got to him.

"So," Ianto wondered aloud. "How is he?"

Jack sighed, tenderly brushing his fingers over john's peaceful features. Finally, after delaying his response as much as he could, Jack sighed.

"Not as good as he lets on." He admitted, unable to look away from John's face. Then, Jack started to speak again.

"It just seems so… weird." Jack confided. "He doesn't even look his age anymore, let alone act it."

Ianto blinked, puzzled. "How old is John?"

Jack smiled. "How old do you think?"

Ianto shrugged in response. "I couldn't guess, but at least thirty, thirty-five. Maybe even forty." Jack laughed, startling Ianto. "What?"

Jack grinned. "That's what everyone thinks." He snorted. "His life's aged him faster than any time stream could ever." Jack finally looked at Ianto. "John is Twenty Nine years old."

Ianto blinked, stunned. John was only four years older than him? They looked drastically different; John's hair had already begun to fade and his skin was marked and scarred. It was as if he had an extra decade added on to his life by just the stress of living.

Jack snorted. "It isn't just living Ianto." Ianto glanced at him warily. It wasn't the first time Jack had seemingly read his mind, but after what Owen had said about his and John's link… Ianto couldn't be sure which thoughts were private anymore.

Jack glanced over at him. "What?" He demanded, taken aback by Ianto's expression. Then, reality seemed to hit him full in the back of the head. "Oh, you're worried about the… ESP thingy between me and John, aren't you." Ianto blushed, nodding sheepishly. "Don't worry. Whatever Owen told you, it isn't me. I can just read emotions. John's the actual telepath." Jack grinned wryly.

"How?" Ianto wondered. Jack bit his lip. Then, he stood, and walked to the other side of the bed.

"Alright, you really want to know?" Ianto nodded slightly. "The fifty first century, and humanity has come into contact with hundreds of different species. Many are telepathic. And almost no one is 100% pure human anymore. I'm pretty positive I'm not, and John sure as hell isn't." Ianto raised an eyebrow, and unspoken question. "His family has lived on a planet in the Andromeda galaxy for as long as he could trace it back. As with most colonies, humans ended up… partnering with the locals. So, some of the abilities get passed down." Jack straightened John's boots, placing them by the corner of the bed before he started to take off his jacket. "It wasn't actually intentional." He muttered. "They put the two strongest telepaths in the same class, and it just sort-of happened."

Ianto raised an eyebrow. "So it was longer than the five years?"

Jack froze, as if stillness could help him avoid Ianto's question. Finally, he blushed, gazing down at the sleeping John.

"Yeah." He muttered, resuming his task of taking John's Jacket off. (He wasn't worried about waking him. Jack had done this at least four times before, and when John was out, he was out like a fried light bulb. There was no way he was waking up anytime soon.)

Ianto continued to watch, waiting for Jack to continue. Instead, Jack stayed silent, until he started to pull John's sleeves off.

"I suggest that you don't watch." He recommended. Ianto shrugged.

"Why not?"

Jack sighed. "You don't want to know some things."

"Like how it was more than a fling you walked out on?" Ianto questioned. Jack stared at the floor, slowly continuing to pull John's jacket off. "How long?"

"Just over ten years." Jack admitted quietly, slipping John's arms out of the Jacket sleeves. "We met in high school, and it just took off from there. And yes, I did just walk out on it."

Jack hung the jacket up on the bedpost, before setting about pulling John's shirt off. He winced slightly as it revealed just how abused John was. Ianto watched Jack's care for John in mild jealousy.

"And what about the three months you were gone?" He asked.

Jack froze, his hands shaking in terror.

'Please, no. No, don't … don't let him ask that. Please. Please. I can't… he shouldn't know. He can't know…'

"Jack, I know." Ianto sighed. "I know that it was more than three months. I know that something bad happened to you."

Jack shuddered. "What makes you think that?" He wondered, knowing he was just avoiding his guilt.

"You look different." Ianto smiled slightly. "And I've seen the looks you and John give to each other. You both know something that you don't want us to know about."

A bolt of terror ran down Jack's spine. He fumbled with the hem of John's shirt for a few seconds, before entirely giving up his toils and sitting on the edge of the bed. Finally, he muttered a faint response to Ianto's question.

"I found the Doctor." Ianto nodded. They had already been told that. But that offered no explanation for WHY Jack had gone with him.

Jack seemed to notice Ianto's mistrust of his motives. Then again, of course he did. Jack was an empath.

"Ianto, I can't possibly expect you, or anyone to ever understand my motives." He sighed. "But I do hope that you can one day forgive me."

"I can try." Ianto admitted. "But I want to know where you went first."

Jack swallowed, biting his lip. "I found the Doctor. And I had been waiting for him for so long… I just didn't think. But when I finally met him, he had changed." Jack glanced down at John, tears in his eyes. "I asked him if he could fix me, and he said no." But that wasn't the only thing he had said.

After a long while, he looked up, wiping his eyes. "The rest of it you don't have to know about it. Just remember that I came back for You, and only you."

"Really?" Ianto wondered, unsure. "You were very quick to include the entire team earlier. So why should I think that I'm the special one?"

Jack smiled. "It's true that I did miss all of you, but you were the one in particular I came back for." Jack sighed, moving to kneel in front of Ianto. "It's like… all of you are parts of a bridge that kept me afloat while I was gone. Everyone was a piece, but you Ianto… you were the Keystone."

Ianto smiled softly. "Then why don't you tell me about it?"

Jack swallowed. "It would give you nightmares worse than anything you ever experienced."

Ianto raised any eyebrow, unsure if Jack was exaggerating or not. His nightmares had gotten pretty bad, but then he remembered that Jack couldn't die. So he had a much wider range of pain than anyone else… torture would be pushed much farther for him because he could always come back, no matter what happened.

Weakly, Ianto nodded, agreeing to not ask any more questions. He watched Jack return to the unconscious John, small bolts of Envy going down his spine at the care Jack administered to the other man.

Jack gently pulled John's shirt off, laying it down on the other bed. Ianto's eyes were fixed to Jack, or else he might have been nauseated by the extent of John's injuries. Then, Jack moved to John's belts, unstrapping them slowly. Ianto's heart quivered, as Jack's hand brushed slightly against the unconscious man's hip. Jack's smile waivered slightly, allowing Ianto to make out a mild tremor, as if he longed to say or do something, but no longer had the courage. Finally, after excruciating seconds passed, Jack sighed, laying the belts next to John's bloody, ripped shirt.

Jack placed his hands on the mattress next to John, watching him for a long time. Silently, he tried to convince himself that John would be fine, but in reality, he knew that was just a faint hope. John wouldn't be fine for a very long time to come.

Jack sighed, beginning to wrap John's arms in Ace-bandages. He had pulled them out of the med-bag that Owen had packed, knowing that John wouldn't let him even BEGIN to treat his arms. Especially not where the others might have seen. But he wouldn't mind Ianto, would he? After all, John had practically given approval of their relationship before he died, didn't he?

'Ianto… Jack loves you … Take care of him.'

Ianto watched, mildly horrified, as Jack gently wrapped the bandages around his friend's arms. How had all of those marks gotten there? Along the inside of each of John's arms ran a line of thin, consistent scars. Each was approximately three inches long, and about an inch apart.

"What happened to him?" Ianto asked, finally ghosting his eyes over John's features. Jack shrugged.

"I'm not too sure yet… I'll tell you when I figure it out for myself." At that, Jack left the room. When he returned a few seconds later, Ianto blinked. Jack had taken off his blue RAF shirt, and had his suspenders hanging from his hips. He caught Ianto's eye, raising an eyebrow. Jack glanced down at himself, then back at Ianto.

"Too much blood…" He muttered, walking back over to John's bedside. Gently, he lifted the smaller man into his arms, surprised at how light John was. He had lost at least ten, maybe twenty pounds since Jack had last met him. It couldn't just be from blood loss, could it? Jack recalled Tosh, and her insistence that John wake up and eat something… was there more to what had happened to John than he thought?

Jack sighed, placing John under the covers, and pulling the blankets up around him. John never seemed to be able to live on his own, namely because he couldn't stand himself. Self-loathing was the worst punishment anyone could endure, because it left you so alone.

Jack left the room once more, but returned seconds later. He now returned with a damp cloth in one hand. Tenderly, he began to wipe the blood off of John's skin. Ianto could feel the envy growling deep inside of him, dissatisfied by Jack's behavior. HE knew that John was injured, and therefore deserved sympathy, if not aid… but that didn't make the smile on Jack's face any less genuine.

Just over ten years… to stay with someone, be committed to someone for over a decade without any formal marriage or even societal pressures… and during the most tumultuous part of anyone's life, early adulthood. Jack and John must have been very committed, exceedingly close… just for their relationship to survive that long. Provided, they did have that mental bond…

But what chance did that leave Ianto for his relationship with Jack?

Before he could continue to follow that train of thought, his mind was overrun by an outside source. Ianto leaned forward, gripping his head.

"Ianto?" Jack wondered, pausing in his care of the unconscious John. When the only response he got was Ianto grinding his teeth, he became worried. Very worried.

"Ianto?" Jack repeated, kneeling in front of the young man, his concern evident. "What's wrong?" Jack placed a hand on Ianto's knee, and he finally began to speak.

"It's – there's this song playing through my head… But I've never heard it before." Ianto met Jack's eyes, and was surprised to see pure, clinical acceptance.

Jack nodded calmly, reaching over to the table next to him. He handed Ianto a notepad and pen, gesturing to them.

"Write it down." He instructed. Then, as if realizing he had forgotten something, "Please."

Ianto raised an eyebrow, prompting Jack to elaborate. "It might be important."

Ianto blinked, curious as to how his potential insanity/music-obsession/forgetting-song-titles/mind-being-bored-and-composing-random-song-lyrics could possibly be important at that moment, but did as instructed.

About a minute later, when he handed the sheet over, Jack glanced at it for a second. Clearly, that was all the time he needed to figure out the significance, because he then did something odd. Jack smiled softly, sitting back on the edge of John's bed. He took one limp, bandaged into his own, running his fingers over the wrappings, which were already beginning to show red. When Jack finally spoke, it was so soft and incidental that Ianto could barely hear it, almost missing the faint sentence.

"Genesis…" Jack muttered, gazing intently at John's face. That should have had no significance normally, considering John's adoration of the late 20th century. But that one song… he had abhorred it for as long as Jack could remember. So why would he be dreaming it?

"… No Son of Mine." Jack shook himself out of his trance-like state, glancing sideways at Ianto. The young Welshman looked entirely out of his depth. Jack sighted.

"That's the song. 'No Son of Mine' by Genesis." He bit his lip, debating internally whether to continue or not. "It's John." He explained, softening the confusion on Ianto's face.

Even in his sleep, John was a strong telepath. With how weak he was, it wasn't all that surprising to Jack that his barriers had collapsed the moment he did. The temptation to peer into John mind, find out exactly what was troubling him was immense. But Jack would – could – never betray his trust like that again. He would just wait until John told him the whole truth – no matter how much it hurt him to not be able to help. Wasn't that all anyone could ask for from another person? To eventually hear the truth, as much of it as they were willing to divulge… that was all he could hope of receiving from John.

"You asked me earlier what happened to him?" Jack asked, meeting Ianto's gaze full-on.

Ianto nodded, hesitant to answer. "I didn't mean to pry, but…" something about Jack's demeanor told him that he would not like the answer to his question. "Yeah."

"I couldn't really say earlier, because I just wasn't sure. John said a lot of things, and I wasn't positive what he meant by them. I had an idea… but until now, it was just a thought." Jack sighed. "But now… that song seals it. Now, I'm nearly positive. I think I figured out what happened to him."

Ianto waited for Jack to continue.

"I think…" Jack hesitated, biting his lip. "John was raped… by his brother."

Death_

Océane: Done! Anyone want to guess the WHOLE story? Brownie points for the closest & most creative!

John: (curled in the fetal position in my corner) Meanie! Why? WHY?

Océane: Oh, oops… sorry John. But I had to.

John: Why? Why my BROTHER?

Océane: The plotline demanded it. But remember… "Most of the blood isn't mine"?

John: *Grins* Oh, Yeah. Please, tell me that it got bloody.

Océane: Spoilers! Anywhoos… Review!~