All The Little Things

by NarikoD

When Ianto wakes up in a mental institution, he refuses to believe what everyone is telling him: that Torchwood is a delusion and he's schizophrenic. But the longer he stays there, the more he starts to wonder if Torchwood was ever real to begin with.

10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

When Ianto opened his eyes again, he quickly realized he was no longer in the medical bay. He wasn't even sure how much time had passed. A quick look around revealed two things: he was in the barely used recovery room of the Hub, with him occupying one of the six beds that were there (he hoped the sheets had been cleaned before they had placed him on the bed), and Harkness was sitting by his bedside reading a book. Ianto shifted, but winced when moving his arm tugged on the IV needle that was currently buried under his skin.

Harkness looked up and grinned wide when he saw Ianto awake. "Hey." He closed his book and put it on the rickety table that sat beside the bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Weak." Ianto's voice was still raspy. He grimaced.

Harkness—or Jack, now that Ianto realized that there was no need to refer to him by his last name—quickly poured some water from the pitcher that was on the bedside table. He placed a straw in the glass and helped Ianto lift his head to drink. He emptied the glass.

"You're going to feel weak for a quite a while," Harkness—Jack—said, pulling the glass away when it was empty. "You were without food and water for over a week before we found you."

Ianto got as comfortable as he could on the bed. He watched Jack owlishly, taking in the lines of exhaustion that crinkled his skin. "How long have I been asleep?" he rasped.

"Ten hours. It's around three in the morning. Tosh went home, but Owen stayed behind so he could keep an eye on you. He's bitching about being cock-blocked." Jack rolled his eyes. "The only thing that's cock-blocking him is his inability to get an erection."

Owen bitching. Ianto should be glad to hear about that, but it was difficult when he had a kinder Owen fresh in his mind. "That's why I always wondered why he bothered with porn," Ianto murmured, making an effort.

"Says that it's still artistic." Jack snorted, but then his amusement vanished. "I'm sorry for punching you."

Ianto thought the apology was redundant, but he shrugged. "It's okay. You were just trying to help." He cleared his throat. "So who was the alien behind this?" It definitely hadn't been the Chyla.

"An Uktoba. A very angry, resentful, and out-for-vengeance Uktoba."

Ianto frowned. "I remember an alien grabbing me. It had multiple limbs, skeletal head, and yellow eyes."

"Yep, that's an Uktoba, although the skeletal head indicated that it was still a teenager in human terms. A full-grown adult would have already grown flesh and muscle over it."

Ianto tucked that kind of information away for later, when he was well enough to go to his Archives and find information on Uktobas. "What happened to it?"

"Dead. It, ah, wasn't very cooperative when we found it and when I interrogated it . . ."

Ianto blinked. "Don't tell me you got carried away."

Jack was sheepish, although there was a twinge of regret lurking in his eyes. "Time was running out and I sort of let my anger take over."

Ianto absorbed that for a moment. "The Uktoba said it was waiting for a long time and that it was going to destroy Torchwood, but I don't recall ever dealing with it."

"That's because Torchwood dealt with this particular Uktoba back in the early 1900s. It came through the rift, and my superiors ran painful tests and experiments on it. I wasn't here during that time—I think I was in America somewhere—but by the time I came back, the Uktoba had somehow escaped. They never explained how, but I knew that the Uktoba had dug into the ground. My superiors knew so little about Ukotbas that they didn't realize Uktobas mostly live underground. Their skin can't really handle the sun and they don't really need a lot of oxygen, so whenever they're away from their planet they make homes underground."

"So this was the same Uktoba?"

"He used colorful language, of course, but I got the feeling that it's the same one."

"But why come after me? I didn't do anything to it." He cleared his throat, feeling it go dry again.

Jack was quick to pour another glass and helped him drink.

"It wanted Torchwood gone and it figured the best way was to get its access codes. The Uktoba wanted passwords, sensitive information, the database, all of it." When Ianto drained the glass, Jack put it back on the table. "Its main objective was to destroy Torchwood as payback for what my superiors had done to it, but Uktobas are opportunists. Getting all that information about other alien races, about earth, that was all icing on the cake."

"That still doesn't explain why it came after me. How did it even know I had them?" As soon as he asked the question, he already knew the answer. That had been one of his theories when he first woke up in Whittier. "It watched us." Jack nodded grimly, which didn't surprise Ianto. "For how long?"

"Months, maybe years. Uktobas aren't a patient lot, but I guess this one decided that patience was well worth getting his revenge exactly right. It realized that you and I were . . ." Jack hesitated.

Ianto knew what Jack was implying. "Fucking?" he offered. Jack looked distinctly uncomfortable, tension rising in the air, and Ianto knew Jack was thinking about their fight, about his last words to him. Unwilling to let the conversation get sidetracked, especially when he was in no mood to talk about their fight, he hypothesized. "So it realized that Torchwood had access codes, or maybe overheard one of your superiors talking about access codes, and it decided to extract revenge on us. It took it's time to come up with its perfect plan to get the codes, and figured that since you and I were fucking, I would know what they are."

"That's the gist of it, yeah. It knew the leader would have the codes, but it also realized you had them, too. Made sure of it, actually. Don't ask me how," Jack answered before Ianto got the opportunity to ask. "Like I said earlier, I got a little carried away. There are some answers that we're not going to get, and that's one of them."

"Fantastic," Ianto muttered. "Why didn't it go after you, then?"

"Because I wouldn't have made the best target. I mean, with the plan it chose to go with to extract the information it needed, it wouldn't have worked on me."

"And what route was that?"

Jack hunched forward a little, placing his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together in front of his face. "Because of the uinolils. It needs access to a user's mind, remember?"

He did remember, and Ianto blamed his slow thinking on exhaustion and weakness. In order for a uinolils to create an illusion, it needed to connect with the user's mind, create a sort of pseudo-psychic link so the device could have access to a user's memories and get a feel of a user's inner most desires to create the perfect alternate reality.

Jack's mind was heavily protected with mental barriers that kept anyone from peeking into his thoughts without his permission. Ianto had had psychic training at Torchwood One, but it had been basic and his own mental barriers weren't like Jack's. The uinolils would not have worked on Jack, not like it had worked on Ianto.

"The Uktoba probably bought the uinolils on the alien black market."

Ianto's brows arched. "Alien black market?"

"Yep. Probably made a few contacts over the years, arranged to have it delivered or maybe found a way to leave the planet to get it."

"We have an alien black market?" Ianto asked slowly.

"Well, yeah."

Jack said it like it was obvious. Ianto squinted, wondering if it should be obvious but his pounding head wouldn't let him see it as such. He'd get back to it later.

"Is the uinolils banned or something?" The files on the uinolils didn't say anything about the device being outlawed.

"It's banned from most galaxies."

"Why?"

Jack tilted his head, confused. "Didn't you read the files on the thing?"

"A lot of the files are incomplete. The file on the uinolils is one of them." Ianto shifted against his pillows, getting more comfortable. "Probably got lost after the Archives became neglected."

"Maybe." Jack sighed. "People who use the uinolils have complete control over their illusion when they first connect to it. The device creates an environment based on the user's desires and memories, kind of like a template, and from there the user can pretty much do what he or she wants in the illusion. It's their reality to play with. That was the original purpose of the device, to be used as a virtual getaway from the real world." He grimaced. "But a lot of users began to stay within their illusions longer than recommended, and the illusions became addictive, like a psychic drug, and users didn't want to get out the illusion. The problem, though, is that the longer you're in an illusion created by the uinolils, the more you begin to believe that it's real."

Ianto took a deep breath, remembering how he had struggled for days with doubts before he began to believe that everything in the illusion was real. God, even when Jack told him what was going on Ianto hadn't wanted to leave.

"Once you start believing the illusion is real, you start losing control over it," Jack added. "It evolves on its own, and the more you believe it the less you're able to change things."

"Which is why I couldn't control anything when you told me I could."

"Yeah, but I didn't know how far gone you were. Chances are that you had some control in the beginning, you just didn't know it."

Ianto closed his eyes, going back over his time in the mental hospital. Then he snorted.

"What?" Jack asked.

Ianto shook his head, opening his eyes as he thought the little things that he had wanted to happen: his grand escape by climbing a tree, running away without getting caught, not being put in isolation when he was returned to Whittier. He had thought someone was looking over him; he just hadn't known that it was him forcing things to go his way.

But hadn't he also wanted the Hub to appear when he arrived at the tourist center? Hadn't he wanted his friends to remember who they were?

"I'm assuming the Uktoba did its best to make sure I had no control over it."

"Definitely. You were already at a disadvantage by not knowing that you were connected to the uinolils, but the Uktoba made it even more difficult by blocking a lot of things you probably wanted to happen when you first arrived in the illusion. It figured out a way to control the illusion even though the Uktoba wasn't the actual user, and to get the codes it created a place that would make you feel safe enough to reveal them. But," Jack stressed, raising a finger, as if it would somehow put more emphasis on the word, "it turned out that whatever illusion he had planned to create meshed with some of your inner desires and memories." He lowered his hand, and he looked oddly proud for a moment. "Your will was too strong for the Uktoba to be able to have complete control."

"It still had most of the control, though."

Jack nodded grimly. "Oh, yeah. It didn't even care if you got stuck in the illusion as a result, it just wanted you to say the codes."

"You said if I reveal the last code I'll get stuck there. Does that have something to do with the illusion becoming real for me?"

"Unfortunately, yeah. When a user believes the illusion is real, they can't be taken out of it. Not forcefully, not willfully, because the psychic link between the user's mind and the uinolils becomes permanent, and there's always something that solidifies that link. For you, it was the codes, and if you had said that last one then that's it. There was no way to get you back from that."

No wonder Jack had been so desperate to prevent him from saying the last code. He would have been trapped in a made-up alternate reality, unaware that he was living in an illusion of his own making. Blissfully unaware. Ianto couldn't help but think that he wouldn't have minded so much living an illusion if Jack hadn't told him the truth about the situation.

Ignoring the slight pang in his chest, he asked, "Why didn't you just destroy the device when you found me?"

"Doing so might have caused brain damage. The connection between your mind and the uinolils wasn't permanent, but it was strong enough to make us worry about forcing you out of it and causing damage to your mind."

"And what would have happened if you tried to get me out of the illusion if the link had become permanent?"

"Death."

Ianto took a deep breath. "Wow."

"I know. We went without sleep for about twenty-four hours trying to figure out the best way to save you without causing damage."

Twenty-four hours? Ianto frowned. Hadn't Jack mentioned something about going without food or water for over a week? "How long had I been missing?"

"Nine days or so."

"Nine days?" Ianto's eyes were wide with shock. "But almost a month passed by in my illusion."

"Illusions tend to run on a faster time stream. Days in your virtual reality can be mere hours in reality, and anyone who uses the uinolils can live out a lifetime in their illusions, but if you die in the illusion, you die in reality. It cuts off brain activity and without brain activity . . ." Jack let the sentence trail off. There really was no need for him to finish the sentence.

It would have been nice to know all this. He made a mental note to add the information in the uinolils file.

Ianto shifted when the position he was in began to get a little uncomfortable. Jack quickly stood up and removed the pillow from his back, letting him lie down. Ianto turned on his side to give his back some respite from lying on the mattress, which wasn't as comfortable as his bed at home, or even the bed he had had at Whittier.

"Nine days," he murmured. "So it's been about ten since we went to the park?"

"Just about. That's another thing I got out of our revengeful alien. It released the Chyla in the park to lure us there, and when we did, it dragged you underground and took you to its lair."

"Lair," Ianto mused quietly. "Sounds sinister."

Jack smiled slightly. "A bit." He lost the smile. "I knew something was wrong when the comm-unit got cut off, and then Tosh said she heard you shout. We didn't know where you were, and after we grabbed the Chyla we looked everywhere. The Uktoba crushed your phone so we couldn't even trace you that way, and by the time we realized where you were and went after you your health was shot to hell. Probably would've died if we hadn't found you when we did." He made a face. "As it was, we barely cut it close in terms of your other reality."

"What do you—" He paused, realizing what Jack was referring to. He squirmed, uncomfortable as he was reminded of how close he had come to saying the last code.

"I think something inside of you knew that Torchwood was real and that's why you lasted as long as you did, but I hadn't realized you were so far gone. I got a bit desperate." He smiled again. "Not that I need to tell you that."

"No, you don't," Ianto murmured, remembering how Jack had pushed him to the ground and punched him across the jaw.

Jack pinched the bridge of his nose. "Since the link wasn't permanent it was still possible for you to come out of the illusion, but at that point the only way to get you out was to make you see that it wasn't real, to make you want to come back to the real world. I didn't expect it to be so damn difficult to get you to see that it wasn't real, though." Jack lowered his hand and smiled at Ianto. "Once you accepted that the reality was false and stopped wanting to stay there, it was easy for you to come back on your own."

Ianto snuggled his face into the pillow, feeling a bit sleepy. He wasn't ready to go back to sleep, though, not until he had all his questions answered. "So answer me this. If the device was connected to my mind, how did you enter the illusion?"

"Thank Tosh. She found a way to insert me into it." Jack grimaced. "It wasn't easy, though. There were some complications, initially."

"Did those complications involve you popping into my illusion as a frozen ghost?"

"Yep. Tosh converted the energy emitting from the device into computer codes. She tried to manipulate the codes to get you to see that the illusion wasn't real, but the codes kept changing because the illusion kept evolving and there wasn't time for her to figure out how to use the changing codes to her advantage. That's when we decided to connect me to the device and try to get me into your illusion so I can tell you what's happening. The Uktoba wouldn't tell me how it managed to connect itself to the device, though, and that's when I got a little too aggressive" Again, that flash of regret, but Ianto wasn't sure if he regretted killing the alien, period, or killing the alien before Ianto could be disconnected from the uinolils.

Jack ran a hand down his face, expression weary. Ianto wondered if Jack had been sitting by his side while he slept.

"Ianto?"

His name had him fluttering his eyes open. He hadn't realized he had closed them. "What?"

"I could finish explaining later—"

"No."

Jack was hesitant. "Are you sure? You look about ready to knock out."

"Not yet, not until I know what happened. Everything. Please?"

"Stubborn," Jack muttered beneath his breath, and Ianto glared. "So since the Uktoba was dead—and Owen threw one hell of a bitch-fit because of it—we spent some time trying to find a way to connect me to the device. When we did, all I had to do was put a couple of electrodes to my temples that were attached to the device, and lower my mental barriers to make the connection possible. Easy enough." He shook his head, a sarcastic snort escaping. "But instead of being able to move freely in your illusion, I was stuck, frozen. I could hear, I could see, but I couldn't do anything else. That's when Tosh realized that two things were working together to keep the illusion going: your willpower and the Uktoba's willpower."

"But the Uktoba was dead. How was its willpower still a part in the illusion?"

"It left its fingerprint behind, I guess is the best way to say it. The illusion was evolving and was taking its cue from the basic desires and memories it got when you and the Uktoba first connected to it." Jack scowled slightly. "And it was the Uktoba's will that kept making me appear all wrong."

Jack lifted a hand and poured some water into glass. Ianto was about to mention that he didn't need to drink any when Jack drank it himself, making Ianto realize that all the talking must have made him thirsty. Ianto almost felt bad about it. Almost being the operative word, of course.

Ianto scowled when he caught himself watching the way Jack's throat moved as he drank. He averted his gaze, annoyed when his belly warmed. There he was, lying on a bed barely able to move, and he was getting turned on. Bloody typical.

He kept his gaze averted until he heard the faint thud of the glass hitting the table. He looked at Jack expectantly.

Jack understood the quiet expectation. "The Uktoba's fingerprint or whatever kept interfering with my presence. Since I wasn't part of the original 'codes' that initially created the illusion, as Tosh had explained it me, I was like an unwanted virus or a program the codes didn't recognize, preventing me from 'installing' properly." Jack rested his crossed arms on the bed by Ianto's hip. "Tosh managed to find a way to get me to install properly—don't ask me how, her explanation went way over my head—and I was finally able to move." Jack smiled gently. "You know the rest."

Ianto fought a yawn, feeling his jaw tremble with the effort it took. If he wasn't so tired, his mind would have probably been going a mile a minute, trying to process all he learned and experienced.

Ianto drew the blanket higher, feeling a bit chilly in the recovery room. "So Owen is still a bastard?"

"Yep. Kept bitching about your weight when we carried you out of the Uktoba's lair."

"Of course." His eyes closed, but he fought them open. "And Tosh isn't crazy?"

"No. She's still the same sweet Tosh."

Ianto hesitated, but asked, "Gwen?"

As expected, Jack's expression flickered at the mention of her name. It was the big Welsh elephant in the room, but Ianto wanted to make sure all was right in his world. "Still on her honeymoon, but I think she'll be back soon. She called to see what was going on and we told her. She was worried."

Ianto couldn't hate her. He had hated the Gwen in his illusion, but he couldn't hate the Gwen he knew, certainly not for the issues that had sprouted between him and Jack.

"I fought it when I first woke up in the illusion," Ianto declared softly, needing to let Jack know that he hadn't given in so easily. "I felt that something was completely wrong, but everyone kept saying I was crazy, and then I kept finding proof that they were right. I escaped to look for the Hub, but it wasn't there. Yates and Glyn were telling me that the illusion was my reality, Tosh was a patient with a bold personality, Owen was a doctor with a nice personality, Gwen wanted nothing to do with me, and you—" Ianto cut himself off, feeling slightly embarrassed.

"I was your husband," Jack finished.

"Right." Ianto struggled not to let heat fill his cheeks.

"Tosh, Owen, and I were created because of you. That was your Torchwood life bleeding through, right down to Gwen's absence from the illusion, apparently. The other two—what did you call them? Yates and Glenn?"

"Glyn."

"Yeah, them. The Uktoba created them, along with the setting and the people. They were easier to get rid of. Tosh and Owen were a little harder to remove from the illusion."

"I thought you said you couldn't get rid of the illusion."

"We couldn't. Not all at once, at least, and definitely not while you thought the illusion was real, but since the connection between you and the device wasn't completely cemented yet we were able to still tweak things, if we knew what needed to be tweaked." Ianto was confused about that, something Jack picked up on. "Too much tweaking, or tweaking the wrong thing, could have damaged your mind. So every time I entered your illusion, it gave me an idea of what was happening and we managed to figure out what aspects came from the Uktoba and what aspects came from you."

"So you heard me?" Ianto asked sleepily. "When I asked for a sign."

"Yeah." Jack's voice was soft. "I tried so damn hard to move for you, and the way you looked when I didn't—" Jack made a disappointed sound. Ianto chose not to comment. "Anyways, once I was actually in there, the plan was to remove certain things that would convince you I was telling the truth. Once we got around the Uktoba's fingerprint, Tosh first removed the things the Uktoba created since they were the easiest to remove, considering the Uktoba was dead and there was no brain to worry about from that angle, but delicacy was required for anything that was created because of you."

"Like you, Tosh, and Owen?"

"Exactly."

And instead of their personalities being the same, the Uktoba's willpower changed them. It was a brilliant plan, and it had worked beautifully. "That's a lot of effort," he said quietly, "just to save me."

Jack cocked his head. "You were going to die if you stayed in that illusion. We weren't about to let that happen."

"Oh." Ianto failed to find anything else to say to that. He couldn't remember a time when the team put so much time and effort to save him. Not that he ever thought that they would let him rot and die—although there were a couple of times after the Lisa incident when he had thought that they'd turn their backs on him if he ever needed their help—but he was still very much grateful for their efforts.

"But according to Tosh," Jack continued slowly, "my twin was the biggest complication of all. It was all you."

Ianto blinked. "Me?" Jack nodded. Ianto hadn't expected that. "So his personality was because of me?"

"Everything, including the personality, stemmed from your desires and memories. He also had the greatest influence on you, and was the main component that drew you further into that reality. The others helped, of course, but it was him who was really tying you down." Jack smiled kindly. "I should be flattered."

"Don't be." Embarrassed that his desires had been on display for Jack to see, Ianto words were frosty and sharp. Any hint of levity vanished. "That man doesn't and will never exist." His chest tightened at his own words.

It hurt, and it shouldn't. Ianto had loved him, but logically speaking, Professor Jack Harkness had existed only because some stupid alien attacked him and connected him to alien tech, and any love Ianto felt for the professor had been because of the love he felt for the real thing. Professor Harkness wasn't real, and the most humiliating thing of all was that Ianto hadn't realized he even wanted that kind of man to exist, and now everyone knew it.

There was silence for several seconds before Jack grabbed Ianto's hand. "Ianto, about what happened that night in my bunker, when I said—"

"I don't want to talk about it." He really didn't want to talk about it. It was another elephant in the room, and it was surprising how much room there was for two elephants, but he was willing to ignore both. He carefully withdrew his hand from Jack's and turned around until he was giving Jack his back. He closed his eyes. "I'm too tired."

When Jack said, "Okay," he could hear the disappointment in his voice. Funnily enough, Ianto was a little glad about that. It matched the disappointment in Ianto's heart.

---

When Ianto was able, he wrote a report. All incidents that occurred required a report to be filed and put away, and while Ianto didn't what to reveal everything he saw, heard, and felt in the illusion, he forced himself to write the words down. It might come in handy later for future Torchwood operatives.

It took a few days before Ianto was able to get out of bed, but Owen was quick to tell him that he was only able to do light duties. Ianto had protested, until the simple action of working on a computer tired him out quickly. While Ianto wanted to do more, he followed Owen's regime only because it would speed up his recovery. Didn't mean he had to like it, especially when Ianto wasn't able to go out to help the others whenever the rift alarm went off. Ianto ended up spending a lot of time at home, preferring the comfort of his own bed and couch over the recovery room and the Hub's lumpy furniture.

As soon as Ianto was able to go to the Archives without breaking into a sweat, he completed the file on the uinolils, making sure to put down all the information Jack had given him so any future Torchwood operatives would have all the information about the device. Ianto couldn't be sure if having all the information would have helped him, but there was always a what-if scenario that it might have.

Gwen returned from her honeymoon the day after Ianto was able to leave the recovery room, and Ianto was the first she hugged, expressing her worry. Ianto reassured her that he was fine, just a bit weak, and Gwen practically coddled him all day. It was a bit stifling, but he endured it, smiling when Gwen gave him a black beret that she had bought just for him.

Although everything seemed to get back to normal, the relationship between him and Jack didn't resume. It was like a chasm had appeared between them. Jack attempted to talk to him, but Ianto found reasons or excuses to escape. He could see the frustration in Jack's eyes, but Ianto didn't want to talk to him just yet, not when he still felt hurt by what Jack had said during their fight and not while he still had Professor Harkness in his mind.

Tosh noticed, of course, which was why Ianto ended up being cornered in the Archives at one point.

"Tosh," he groaned as soon as he saw her, already seeing the question in her eyes. He took some files out of a cabinet. "Please don't ask."

"I'm just worried," she said softly as she approached him.

"I get that, and I'm grateful, but I'm fine."

"Are you?" She leaned against the file cabinet. "Look, I know it's none of my business, but you and Jack—"

"Are okay. I'm just dealing with some things, and Jack has never grasped the notion of giving someone space." Total understatement, but at least it was the truth. Sort of.

Tosh obviously didn't buy it, but she didn't push, and Ianto felt a twinge. The Tosh in his illusion would have pushed. She would have demanded to know what was going on, practically twist his arm until he gave her answers.

But this Tosh wasn't like that. She was still mousy, still quiet and respectful of others' feelings. So he wasn't surprised when Tosh took one moment to study him before nodding. "All right. But if you ever want to talk, I'm here. You know that, don't you?"

Ianto smiled, the curve genuine. Tosh may not be loud or abrasive, but she was kind and caring. He closed the cabinet drawer. "Yes, I know. Thanks."

Tosh pushed away from the file cabinet and started walking away, but she paused and turned towards him. "Ianto, just so you know, Jack killed the Uktoba not because it wouldn't answer his questions, but because it laughed in his face and said you dying wouldn't be too much of a loss since you weren't worth saving." She rubbed her cheek against his shoulder, looking hesitant but determined. "Jack was furious, but he was also scared and desperate to save you. He said, and I quote, 'I'll be damned before I lose him.'" With that said, she left.

Ianto stared at her retreating back, left with folders clutched in his hands and her words echoing in his head.

---

When the rift finally died down, and Ianto felt more or less recovered, he decided to use the free time to take a trip to where Whittier had been located in his illusion. He wasn't surprised to find nothing but trees and grass. There was no evidence that anything had been built upon the land.

Well, at least Ianto was assured that his knowledge of Cardiff was solid.

He walked for a while, taking in the fresh air, and paused in front of a tree. He studied it for a while, determining its height, its limbs, until he decided that it was good enough. At least this time he was wearing trainers and not slippers.

He took a breath and began to climb.

Ianto didn't climb too high, only reaching the lowest of the limbs. Once he settled on the thick limb, legs straddling it and back against the tree trunk, he momentarily closed his eyes to better enjoy the caress of the breeze against his skin. It was peaceful, with nothing but nature surrounding him.

Opening his eyes, Ianto leaned forward a little and managed to remove the cross-body bag he had brought with him. He opened it and took out a brand new sketchbook and a drawing pencil he had bought in an art shop. He settled back against the tree trunk, getting comfortable on the limb without losing his balance. It was a delicate business, but as soon as he found a position that was both comfortable and safe, he opened his sketchbook and began to draw.

He ended up drawing Jack—his husband Jack—from memory. He added the longer hair, the glasses, the clothes, and the wedding ring. Especially the wedding ring. In the end, the drawing wasn't as great as the ones in his illusion, but he didn't need it to be perfect. Drawing was a rediscovered hobby he was determined to keep no matter what level his skills were.

He traced his fingers over the page, missing his husband so much it was downright pathetic. He dreamed of him sometimes, of loving words whispered in his ear, of adorning touches on his skin. His heart ached, and no matter how many times he told himself that his husband had never existed, he still felt like he was grieving over a dead loved one, and he was finding it more difficult than he ever thought possible to get over his experience and move on.

Everything he had ever wanted in Jack had been there for him to enjoy, and a part of him hated the captain for taking that away from him.

He looked down when he heard a distinct cough. Jack was standing underneath him, looking up with a smile. "Hello."

Ianto's brow furrowed. "How did you find me?"

"GPS on your new phone."

"Brilliant," he said sarcastically. "Does this mean I can't go anywhere without you or the others finding me?"

"You were just kidnapped. We're a bit wary." Ianto restrained his hostility. Jack had a point. "Care to come down?" Ianto looked away, considering. Jack cleared his throat. "Or we could talk this way, whatever works."

He knew it. Jack may be wary about Ianto leaving without letting anyone know where he was going, but clearly Jack was using the rift's downtime and Ianto's full-recovery to his advantage.

Ianto attempted to put his materials away, but when he nearly fell off the limb, he reached out to grab onto the trunk. The shift sent all his drawing materials tumbling to the ground, and Ianto cursed. He grimaced when he saw Jack reaching for them, and as quickly as he dared, Ianto climbed down the tree.

When his feet touched the ground, Jack had already picked up all his items and was busy looking at his drawing.

"Good drawing," Jack commented. "I like the glasses on me. Makes me seem like a hot nerd."

Ianto swiped his sketchbook out of Jack's hands. "I didn't draw you." He closed the sketchbook and put it back in his bag.

"I know," Jack said softly, offering Ianto his drawing pencil.

Moodily, Ianto took it and put it in the bag as well. "What do you want?" Ianto zipped his bag closed and mildly glared at Jack.

Jack studied him, not answering the question right away. When he did answer, it wasn't what Ianto had been expecting to hear. "I've spent the last couple of weeks trying to figure you out."

"What?"

"I've been trying to reach you, but you always find an excuse or a reason to avoid me. It's like you don't want to be alone with me."

Ianto rolled his eyes. "If you're referring to sex—"

"No, of course not." Jack dug his hands into the pockets of his RAF coat. "You're so impersonal and distant with me, like I'm an acquaintance."

Fine, if Jack wanted to talk about it, Ianto was going to let him have it. He tilted his chin up. "How else would I treat an ex-lover?" He frowned. "No, not lover. I was just a fuck, right?"

Jack winced, hearing the sarcasm in Ianto's tone. "I probably deserve that."

"Probably?" Ianto arched a brow.

"Definitely. I deserve all the scorn and anger you feel."

"Well, thanks."

"I didn't mean it," Jack said. "When I called what we had a fling, I didn't mean it. And I didn't mean it when I said you were nothing more than a fuck. I'm sorry for even saying it."

"And, what, you think that makes it okay?' Ianto scoffed. "You can't take the words back."

"I know that." Jack's hand twitched, lifting a couple of inches, but Ianto took a step back. He didn't want to be touched. Jack dropped his hand. "Why do you think I've been trying to talk to you?"

"So you could clear the air, bat your eyelashes, and make a lewd joke about make-up sex. That's what you always do, and I always end up forgiving you and letting you sweep everything underneath the rug so we never have to talk about it again." Ianto narrowed his eyes slightly. "Sorry, that's not going to happen. Not this time. Not ever again."

"Then talk to me." Jack moved forward. Ianto didn't move back, but Jack seemed to sense that Ianto wanted distance. There was a respectable amount of it between them when Jack stilled. "Please."

Ianto tore his gaze away from Jack and looked around the area, thinking of what he should say. There were a lot of things that needed to be said, but he didn't know where to start. When he looked back at Jack, his mind provided him with an image of the Jack from his illusion, which made looking at the man standing in front of him almost painful.

"I'm finding it difficult to reconcile you and the Jack in my illusion. I know he wasn't real, but I miss him. He was . . ." Ianto closed his eyes, remembering the private conversations, the hand holding, the sweet kisses, the laughter. "He was so bloody wonderful." He opened his eyes. "I could've had such a good life with him, and I end up coming back to this, to you." He slipped his bag over his shoulder. "You have no idea how bad I want him back."

To give him credit, Jack didn't seem offended by Ianto words. Most people would feel a bit put out at hearing someone say they prefer an illusion over the real thing. Jack gently said, "You can't have him back, and I can't be that man for you."

"I know that," Ianto snapped. "No matter how hard you try, you can never be him. He was so much better than you."

Now Jack looked slightly hurt. "Not holding back, huh?" he said flippantly.

"Why should I? You never do. You never take a moment to think if the next thing you say or do is going to hurt me. You just say whatever you want, do whatever you want, and expect me not to be hurt by any of it."

Jack swallowed. "I'm sorry, Ianto. Not just for calling our relationship a fling, but for anything else I've said or done to have hurt you. Let me make it up to you. Give me a chance."

"I gave you a chance when you asked me out, and you fucking blew it." Ianto laughed sardonically. "But you want to know the funny thing about that? I already had a hunch that you would hurt me. It's not like I'm the one you really want."

Jack looked confused for a moment. "If this is about Gwen—"

"Gwen, the Doctor, Rose—all these people you love, and I'm competing with all of them. You speak of the Doctor like he's some kind of god, and the way your eyes light up when you mention Rose . . ." He snorted. "And Gwen. Jesus, the way you stare at her, and defend her, and touch her, and talk about her." His hands clenched as they hanged at his sides. "You don't think I don't know that you told her that you came back for her? That the only way you survived being away, that the only thing that kept you going, was the very idea of returning to her? Not the team, her."

"I never said—"

Ianto cut him off. "Don't insult me by lying, Jack. I saw it on the CCTV and heard it over the audio feed. I saw you. And I saw the way you looked when you realized she was engaged. It was like your whole world crumbled."

Jack tightened his lips and he closed the distance between them. He grabbed Ianto's shoulders. "But I asked you out, Ianto. You."

"Who else were you going to ask?" He attempted to dislodge Jack's hands, but they only tightened in response.

"I could've asked no one." Jack said it like the words should mean something to Ianto.

"For all I know, you used me as a way to get over Gwen. Maybe I'm a rebound." Astonishment flashed in Jack's eyes. "Makes sense, doesn't it? Why else would you ask me out hours after practically declaring your feelings for Gwen?"

"You were never a rebound. I would never do that."

"Yes, you would. You've done it before, haven't you? Used men and women left and right for your own selfish desires?" Ianto's words were justified when Jack looked away, guilt written all over his face. Ianto knew Jack like the back of his hand, which made it all that more confusing as to why he had chosen to get involved with him in the first place. Ianto's anger bubbled very close to the surface. "Jesus, why in the hell did you even ask me out?" When Jack didn't answer, Ianto growled softly. "Tell me, Jack. What else can you say that can hurt me?"

"Apparently a lot." Jack ran a hand down his face. "I'm attracted to you, Ianto. I've always been attracted to you. Isn't that enough of a reason for me to ask you out?"

"That's enough to fuck me, not date me. And if you really wanted to date me, you would've put more effort instead of the three dates you took me out on. So maybe it was guilt for the way you had treated me before you left, or maybe it was because you wanted to fuck me again but knew the only way to get me into bed with you again was to take me out and pretend to actually want more than just sex."

At his last suggestion, Jack's expression became appalled and flabbergasted all at once. "No," he firmly said. "I did not ask you out so I can get you into bed. No matter what I did in the past, I certainly don't do that now and never with you."

That didn't exactly make him feel better since Jack still hadn't answered the question. Maybe Jack didn't even know himself why he asked Ianto out.

Ianto looked away. "In my illusion, my husband had known why he wanted me. I could see it in his eyes, in the way he held me and kissed me. He knew me in ways that even Lisa hadn't been able to." The chirp of a bird caught his attention and he looked up, seeking out the bird to avoid looking at Jack's face. "He gave me a taste of something I hadn't realized I was missing."

"Normalcy?" Surprised, Ianto looked at Jack, finding blue eyes watching him steadily. "That's what you said when I was trying to convince you that you were trapped in an illusion. You said that you had a chance at a normal life."

Had he said that? His mind had been all over the place during that time, so he couldn't quite remember everything that had come out of his mouth in that moment of desperation. "I guess a part of me does miss that," he mused, mostly to himself. "Who wouldn't? I stay at Torchwood willingly, but there's always going to be a piece of me wishing that I had a life without aliens."

Jack toed the ground with the toe of his boot. "I can give you that."

"Give me what?"

"If it's a normal life you want, I can give you that. I can give you retcon."

Ianto gaped, the only thing confirming that he had heard right being the serious expression on Jack's face. "You were right," he managed to say. "There is a lot more you can say that can hurt me."

Furious, Ianto shoved pass Jack and stomped away. Was Jack truly that heartless? Ianto was having a hard time accepting the falsity of his husband's existence precisely because the man he wanted would never exist, and Jack had proven that point fantastically. They were had been lovers, damn it. It shouldn't be so easy for Jack to offer him retcon like it was candy.

He didn't get too far, his arm grabbed by firm fingers wrapping around his bicep. "Don't do that," Jack growled.

Ianto tried to yank his arm out of Jack's hold, but Jack held firm. "Let go of me, you unfeeling bastard."

"Don't walk away from me. Tell me what I said to piss you off because I just offered you a chance to have what you want."

"Do you seriously think that's what I want? A normal life with a random stranger who I'll meet on the street? Didn't you pay any attention to my illusion?" Ianto got into Jack's face. "I don't have any inner desire to be domestic with some stranger, Jack."

"Then explain it to me, because clearly I'm too thickheaded to figure it out on my own," Jack snapped.

"Hell has frozen over, Captain Harkness has finally admitted to having a flaw." He yanked harder on his arm, but when Jack continued to hold on, Ianto used a fist to punch Jack's shoulder. The fingers loosened and Ianto pulled his arm completely from Jack's grip. He glared. "If that's what I wanted then don't you think that my husband would have been anyone but you?" Ianto stepped back and paced a little. "I created a husband who knew everything about me. He treated me like someone who mattered, made me feel like I was his equal instead of a convenient fuck."

"Ianto—"

Ianto spun around to face him. "I'm not finished. You wanted me to talk and that's what I'm doing so you better damn well stand there and hear me until I'm done."

Ianto saw the struggle on Jack's face, the urge to say something because Jack wasn't the kind of guy to take anything silently. But he nodded his understanding, even though his jaw was clenched tight.

Ianto placed his hands on his hips. "The last time I felt anything even close to that was when I was with Lisa and how she made me feel like the luckiest bloke in the world. That's what my fake husband made me feel and no matter how crazy or neurotic or out of control I was in the illusion, he was there willing to be hated just to make sure I was okay. He put me first." Ianto felt his body tremble with all the emotions he was feeling, and it took effort to force his muscles to stop quivering. "But more than that, I created a Jack who knew me."

He stopped and waited for Jack's reaction, hoping that he was actually listening to what Ianto was saying.

Jack's confusion shifted to shocked understanding, and Ianto knew Jack finally got it.

Ianto abruptly deflated, shoulders slumping and his anger vanishing. "It's a difficult thing to bear being treated like I'm your flavor of the century when I'm emotionally involved." His voice was weary, and Ianto was too tired to hide behind an emotionless mask. "Giving me retcon isn't going to give me what I want, because I won't have the person I . . ." Ianto bit his lip. He didn't need to say the words, he was pretty sure Jack got the picture.

He inhaled sharply. "I've accepted a lot of your ways and beliefs, and compromised a lot of my own in the process, but you don't seem willing to do the same. At first I thought it was worth it and that's why I didn't say anything, but it's not worth it. You don't seem willing to put my happiness first, and all I've ever done is put yours first. I've compromised with your flirting, your secrets, and your love for an open relationship." Ianto shook his head. "Did you know that you slept with Gwen in my illusion?"

Jack's eyes flashed with guilt. "Yes," he admitted. "I read it in your report."

Ianto wasn't surprised. Jack usually didn't read the reports, but Ianto's experience in the illusion had been a lone journey. Of course Jack would want to know what had happened. "Even in my illusion, you weren't faithful. Clearly my memories were bleeding through, but you would think my desires would've been strong enough to create a faithful husband. Says a lot about my insecurities, doesn't it? To make up a husband who cheated on me."

"But you forgave him." Jack sounded put out and completely lost. "You make him sound like a saint even though he cheated on you. I may have been oblivious to a few things, but I never slept with another while I was with you."

Ianto could hear the accusation in Jacks last words, as if Ianto was committing a crime by forgiving a man who wasn't real and denying a man who was real the same courtesy. "He made a mistake, and while his actions were horrible at least there was a more tangible reason for him fucking Gwen instead of just fucking her for the sake of lust the way you want to. He saw how much it hurt me and tried to make things right. He didn't make dirty jokes about it, or belittled me or my pain. He didn't try to justify it or argue with me, and he didn't lash out at me by calling me a fuck." He ran a hand through his hair. "He knew me enough to respect my feelings, to respect my desire for space, to put me first instead of focusing on himself the way you do."

Jack's lips tightened. "He was from your own mind, Ianto. Of course he would know you."

"And doesn't that tell you anything about what I want from you? You don't know me, Jack. I don't think you ever had, because if you did you would've tried to understand why I was angry at you for jerking off to Gwen. But you didn't try, Jack. You never do."

There was silence, but the silence wasn't quiet. It was filled with tension, with echoes of their words. It was a pregnant silence that was not at all comfortable.

Jack didn't seem to know what to say to his words, and Ianto wasn't surprised. It was probably too much to handle for a man who was emotionally stunted.

Ianto inhaled deeply, too tried to continue with this discussion. Too tired to deal with Jack.

"I think it's time we officially end it."

Jack's eyes widened. "No, Ianto—"

"It's not just the things you said that night, Jack. It's how you've treated me since you came back from your trip with the Doctor. I'm not a lover, or a boyfriend, or anything. I'm just the bloke you fuck and occasionally take out. That isn't a relationship. That's not even an affair. It's a waste of my time." Ianto attempted to walk away, but Jack practically lunged forward to grab his shoulders and keep him in his place. "Jack—"

"I can't turn myself into your illusionary husband, Ianto. I can try to mold myself to be like him, but I know how I am. I'll eventually run away so I wouldn't have to deal with the restrictions anymore, probably fuck someone else or keep you at arm's length, and I'll break your heart. I'll hurt you more than I've done in the past if I force myself to become that man for you."

Jack tightened his hold on Ianto's shoulders. "But you're right. I've been a total bastard in how I've treated you, but it's not because I'm doing it on purpose. Sometimes I forget that the world doesn't revolve around me. I forget that my personality is a little too much. And in my attempts to not change who I am, I didn't notice that you were compromising a lot so I wouldn't have to."

"That's the problem, Jack. You don't notice anything about me, not until it's convenient for you to do so."

"And that's my mistake." Jack stepped close, sliding one hand to the back of Ianto's neck, the other sliding down his arm until he could tangle their fingers together. "But believe me when I say it'll be different this time. I'll make some compromises, and I'll pay more attention." Desperation began to fill his eyes. "Just let me prove it. I may not deserve it, but give me another chance and I swear I'll do it right this time."

"Why? What's the point?"

"Because—" Jack cut himself off and he suddenly looked uncomfortable. He looked down, up, away, obviously struggling to figure out his next words. Ianto huffed and tried to back away but Jack made him stay put by firming his grip on Ianto's nape. "I—" Jack visibly swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing with the movement. "There's more than just—" He suddenly cursed. "Jesus, I'm not good at this emotional shit." He paused. "You're important. What I feel for you—" His gaze flicked over Ianto's face. "I'm emotionally involved, too."

Ianto lifted his free hand to cup Jack's cheek. Jack's eyes glowed with hope. "I already know how it's going to go," he said softly. "You're going to be attentive at first, pay more attention to me than you've ever have before, trying so hard not to mess up, but then something will distract you—"

"No," Jack insisted.

Ianto smoothly continued. "—or someone will pull you away, and then you'll stop trying. We'll end up right back where we started."

"Ianto, please." The hope in Jack's eyes was rapidly disappearing. "It'll be different this time."

"I know how are you are, Jack. I know how fickle you can be." This time, Ianto managed to disentangle himself from the hold Jack had on him. "That's the sad thing about all of this. I know how you are, and I still allowed myself to get involved."

"Just give me another chance, Ianto. I won't fuck up this time."

Groveling. Jack was actually groveling. Ianto should feel pleased at the sight, revel that the heartthrob was begging him for another chance when Jack could have so many at the snap of a finger, but Ianto wasn't reveling or gloating. He just wanted the conversation over. "Yes, you will. You always will."

With every ounce of courage he had in him, he shook his head, turned, and began to walk away. He forced himself to move one foot in front of the other, refusing to look back. He was afraid of giving into Jack's pleas, of running back to him.

God, he loved him. He hadn't expected to fall in love again after Lisa, let alone fall in love with Jack, but somehow Jack managed to wiggle his way into Ianto's heart and stay there. But loving him just wasn't enough anymore. Ianto needed more—no, he deserved more, and the illusion had opened his eyes to that fact.

He knew it would be hard to move on. Despite their break-up, Ianto would never truly be free of him. Jack would always own a piece of his heart, but that was okay. Ianto would do his best to get over it. He had survived so many things; heartbreak wasn't going to destroy him. He wouldn't let it.

"Tiger lilies," Jack called out. Ianto slowed down, startled. "You like tiger lilies."

Ianto came to a complete stop. He barely turned his head, still unwilling to completely look at Jack. "What?"

"You have them in your flat, but you always claim that they're gifts from a neighbor. I'd believe that, if you didn't give tiger lilies to the girls or bring them to the Hub whenever you decided to spruce the place up a little."

Ianto heard the faint crackling of dry leaves behind him. Jack's voice got closer as he continued to speak.

"You prefer classic movies, usually black and white films, but on occasion you enjoy a cheesy sci-fi flick that's mindless entertainment and serves no other purpose than to make you laugh. I didn't understand why until you explained that since you practically live in a sci-fi world, the violence and death you see every day can be temporarily forgotten whenever you watch sci-fi movies with stupid plots and stupider dialogue."

Ianto remembered giving that explanation when Jack had come over to his flat unexpectedly one night, catching Ianto in the middle of a movie that had been depicting green aliens fighting with humans.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, feeling Jack's body heat behind him. "You pretend to eat vegetables, but you do your best to avoid them whenever you could. You shove them aside on your plate, you put them in napkins, or you just offer them to someone else. Carrots, you're okay with, but you really seem to have an issue with broccoli and cabbage."

Vegetables just weren't his thing, and when Ianto had first started working at Torchwood Three Jack had said he needed more vegetables in his diet because vegetables had iron that was good for the body.

Jack chuckled. "And you love mystery novels, mostly because you enjoy trying to guess who the killer is before he is revealed. Last I checked, you managed to guess the killer of twenty out of the forty mystery novels you have."

"Twenty-one," Ianto said hoarsely. He pressed a hand against his stomach, feeling something flutter inside. It felt like hope, but he didn't want to feel that.

Jack walked around until he was standing in front of him. His expression was solemn. "You're a dog person, and the only thing that's stopping you from adopting one is that you're not home often enough to take care of it properly, but if you did adopt a dog you'd get an old one since no one else seems willing to take home the older dogs."

Ianto had let that slip while investigating alien sightings in an animal shelter. There had been an abundance of older dogs sleeping in their cages, and Ianto had been tempted to take one home with him.

"You're ticklish underneath your right thigh, so whenever we have sex I make sure to caress you there just to hear you laugh." Jack's gaze was achingly soft. "You have a nice laugh and you don't do it often enough, so I like to hear it whenever I could."

Ianto shuffled his feet, remembering the countless times Jack purposely ran his fingers across the skin underneath his thigh. Ianto had initially told him that he was ticklish there and asked not to be touched there, but Jack had continued to do so. Ianto had simply assumed that Jack hadn't remembered that he was ticklish in that spot.

Jack took in Ianto's appearance, fingers tugging on his sleeves, the front of his shirt, grazing his belt and the top portion of his jeans. "You like wearing suits, but that's mostly because dressing casually like the way you're dressed now makes you feel vulnerable and exposed. You hate feeling that way."

Ianto looked away. That was more insightful than he had thought Jack capable of. He was impressed—and scared. His heart was pounding madly and whether he liked or not, hope blossomed and warmed his insides until he could ignore it no longer.

"You're a James Bond fan, and you not only have every single film on DVD in your home, you also have a collection of James Bond action figures hiding underneath your bed."

Ianto's eyes widened. "How did you—"

"I snooped around one day while you were sleeping." He paused. "Which I guess isn't helping my case right now, but the point is I know about it, right?"

Ianto sighed. "Jack—"

Jack placed his hand over the hand Ianto still rested on his stomach. "There's a thick scar just above your belly button from your encounter with a Cyberman at Torchwood London. You think it's ugly, but I consider it a badge of courage and strength, because anyone who comes out of that fiery hell with only a thick scar must have those two qualities." He moved his hand around Ianto's body until he was touching Ianto's lower back. "There's a mole right here that wasn't there last year, and I kiss it every time I see it because its proof that you managed to stay alive long enough to have one here." He slid his hand from his lower back to his right hip. "You have a faint scar right here. You got it after falling off your bike when you were eleven." Jack smiled with amusement. "You were embarrassed because you were trying to show off to a girl who lived in your neighborhood."

"She laughed at me," Ianto whispered. He remembered falling off that bike, and how eager he had been to show off to his pretty redhead neighbor, only to look like a fool when he fell off and painfully landed on gravel. What he couldn't remember was telling Jack that particular story, which only made it all that more touching that Jack remembered.

"Yes, she did laugh at you, but she kissed you on the cheek to make you feel better." Jack paused, hesitant as he gazed at Ianto. "Every time we sleep together, you curl in my arms because it's probably one of the few times you're able to block out every bad thing that's ever happened to you and it makes you feel safe. You feel protected, and you never ask for it. You don't think you have the right to ask or you're afraid that it'll make you look weak."

Ianto had to look away from the intensity in Jack's gaze, feeling beyond mortified that Jack knew that. How many times had he buried himself against Jack's chest, hiding a smile when Jack's arms wrapped around him, simply because he could pretend for a little that the monsters he faced were nothing more than myth and legend? Too many times to count, but he did it anyway, even as he joked with Jack about grown men cuddling together so Jack wouldn't know why he liked to be curled up against his lover

Jack grabbed his chin and gently moved his head until they could face each other again. "I wrap my arms around you because I like making you feel safe, and that's when I can pretend that I'm capable of protecting you, and that nothing will take you away from me."

"Jack," Ianto breathed.

"I know you, Ianto. More than you realized, more than I realized. I know you."

Jesus, Ianto's heart was beating so fast he was surprised it hadn't burst right out of his chest. It was astounding how Jack managed to remember all those things, tidbits that were shared only among lovers who felt more than lust.

"I get distracted by a lot of things and a lot of people," Jack murmured, taking one step forward so their chests could touch, "but that has more to do with how I was raised. It's not because you're not enough for me." He grabbed Ianto's hands, his skin warm and the limbs shaking. Or were Ianto's hands shaking? He couldn't tell, and it wasn't as important as the determined way Jack looked at him. "I was taught that love isn't restricted to just one person at a time, and it's true in a lot of ways. That's the beauty of humans, the capacity to love so many all at once. So yeah, I'm not going to stand here and say that my heart is limited to just one person. That would be a lie and you'd probably see right through it."

Ianto opened his mouth to speak, but a hand covered it. "Let me finish," Jack pleaded. "I'm almost done." Ianto slowly nodded, and Jack dropped his hand. He took a breath. "I may love multiple people at the same time, but sometimes there's one person who manages to monopolize most of it, and when that happens . . ." Jack swallowed, and he looked nervous. "When that happens, he makes me care so damn much that I have nightmares of losing him and I start getting scared of the day when I get left behind. He makes me wish that happily-ever-afters were real. He makes me want to be faithful no matter how many temptations are thrown in my path. He makes me feel safe enough to lower my defenses and let him in to see pass the masks I wear."

Jack's palms framed Ianto's face. "And right now, he makes me want to fight to keep him in my life for however long I could have him, because he matters to me." He pressed their foreheads together so Ianto couldn't avoid his gaze. "You matter to me," he whispered harshly.

It had been easier to walk away earlier when he had thought that Jack was an ignorant, flirty bastard who had taken Ianto for granted. But now? God, now Jack had decided to open up and let Ianto know that he had been paying more attention than Ianto had initially given him credit for, letting him know in that indirect way of his that Ianto's love might me reciprocated.

His head was telling him to walk way. The smartest thing to do was to stick with his decision and breakup with Jack. It would be better for everyone. Ianto could continue working at Torchwood, have his own flings, and be free from any more emotional pain. Jack would eventually move on, find someone else, maybe even fight for Gwen.

But his heart was telling him not to let go. Jack was fighting for him now. Jack, who could have anyone, was trying to convince an average Welshman to give him the chance to prove that he could change things. Ianto could end up regretting it for the rest of his life for walking away.

Maybe it would all end in heartbreak for him . . . but maybe it wouldn't.

Ianto kissed him. He kept it slow, putting all his emotions into it. He had told the Jack in his illusion that he loved him, but he couldn't repeat the words to this Jack, and that was okay. This Jack wasn't ready, and might never be ready, to hear those words, but if Jack had paid as much attention to his words and his kisses the way he had paid attention to all the little things Ianto had told him over the past several months, then Jack would already know how much Ianto loved him.

When he pulled back, Jack was breathing heavily and his eyes were slightly dilated. Lowly, he said, "Please tell me that wasn't a goodbye kiss."

Ianto shook his head, although he wasn't going to give Jack a chance without one important warning. "You have one more shot at this, Jack. Just one. If you screw up—"

"I won't," Jack quickly interjected.

"If you screw up," Ianto repeated steadily, "I will end this. No more chances."

Jack nodded his head vigorously. "I know."

Ianto peered into Jack's eyes and saw nothing but sincerity. He nodded once. "Okay."

Jack cocked his head slightly. "Okay?"

Ianto began to smile. "Okay."

Jack blinked, and then he grinned, white teeth flashing and eyes sparkling. "Okay."