Wow. Okay, this was the first chapter that I wrote entirely on the computer, without a draft of any sort, and only a vague (and I mean VAGUE) inkling of where it was going. However, I'm incredibly pleased at how it turned out, and I hope that you are, too. When I finished and glanced at the wordcount, I was pretty shocked - over 1,100 words of fic alone, A/N not included. I'm very pleased with that - I thought it might fall short of the 1K average, to be perfectly honest. But it exceeded it, and was finished nearly two hours early, so I might even start writing the next chapter.

I think, the way that this fic is going, that it might end up with fourteen chapters. This shouldn't make me as happy as it does.

Also, apologies for the slight timeskip early on; it was necessary. At first, I felt like I was being a coward by taking this way out of the 456 problem. But as I wrote it, I realised that this isn't the end. Not only will Jack not forgive himself for this, but somebody else won't be too pleased, either. A certain someone who will be the guest star of the first episode of the next season of Fourteen. And this chapter has a slightly bittersweet ending that might not make sense until tomorrow's update, which I'm REALLY looking forward to writing. =D

I hope you enjoy this chapter, anyway. I'm told that Ch9 was my best yet, so perhaps I should read more Janto before writing? XD Let's see how you react to this chapter to see if that's true or not. Don't forget to R&R!

There is silence in the tank, save for the slight hum of nearby machinery that has gone unnoticed in the background. Jack can hear himself breathing, heavier and slower than usual. The 456 is still to the eye, its tiny movements only a result of the swirling gases within the tank. They watch each other, unmoving. Breathing becomes harder and more focused. Jack's grip tightens on the fastening of his glove. "I told you to...leave." His voice is not nearly as commanding as he wishes, for he has neither the breath nor the energy to appear intimidating any longer. His throat is dry, his mouth hardly able to form the words that his brain communicates. "Now," he chokes out. The 456 remains motionless in the tank, and he struggles towards it, legs like lead, in a vain attempt to get it to react.

Before he can reach it, however, the entire tank appears to swim alongside the gases it contains, and he collapses into darkness.

Some time later, he wakes with another large gasp, body craving fresh oxygen. There is none. He can smell the sulphurous air surrounding him, has just enough time to retch before the darkness descends once more.

And then it happens again, and he registers Ianto pressed up against the glass once more, face contorted in horror and shouting silenced words. He sees Anna running towards the tank as well, a momentary lapse in her ever-calm face. Even before she arrives at Ianto's side, Jack is lost in the darkness once more.

-

"Come on. Wake up, come on." Jack can feel hands rubbing against his cheeks, ruffling through his hair. And he knows that accent, that undeniable concern in his murmurs. "Wake up, Jack."

A smile creeps across Jack's face before he even considers opening his eyes. "Ten more minutes," he whispers.

Ianto laughs then - a wonderful laugh of relief that betrays just how worried he was. He adjusts his position on the floor, and Jack realises with a growing smile that he is lying propped in Ianto's lap. He opens his eyes, sees Ianto beaming back at him.

A heap of blue material is thrown just inches from Jack's face. "Glad to have you back, Captain." Anna regards him for a moment before her stiff expression eases into a smirk.

Jack pulls the coat towards him and sits up. As he does so, he notices Ianto massaging his own leg, and wonders how long he must have been lying there for it to go numb. "You okay?"

"Fine." Ianto's smile is just a bit too sudden, a bit too bright. They both know they aren't simply talking about his leg.

Jack gazes at him for a second, weighing up circumstance, and decides that Anna's presence in the room is somewhat of a hindrance. "You owe me ten minutes."

And there's that bashful smile that's growing ever so familiar. "Right you are, sir," Ianto replies. "I'll be sure to work overtime."

Anna glances between them, aware that some sort of unspoken conversation is taking place. She's been on too many undercover missions before not to realise when people are speaking in code, and the two of them are being painfully obvious. It's Jack that remedies the awkward atmosphere, turning to her and regaining his brisk and businesslike tone. "What happened?"

"There was a small tear in the fabric," Anna says, gesturing towards the body suit crumpled on the floor. Another lies next to it, and Jack realises that one of them must have gone in to fetch him after he collapsed. Again. Somehow, he doubts that it was Anna.

Jack nods, more to show understanding than agreement. He doesn't agree with this at all. This was never meant to happen, wasn't part of the plan. In spite of all the threats, he had never truly intended to follow through with any of them unless there was any other choice. The tank is horribly still. The child, what is left of it, lies in the corner, in as much of a crumpled heap as the suit. The 456 merely continues to float, motionless and weightless amidst the gases. A chill hits Jack's spine. He wiped this race out.

"It was an accident." Ianto is by his shoulder. Jack didn't even notice him move. "It was an accident, and nobody will blame you."

It's a lie; Jack will blame himself, and they both know it. Possibly Anna knows it, too.

"He's right. Under the circumstances, you're a hero. You defeated the enemy, Captain. There is no shame in that. We gave it an ultimatum, and it declined."

"It didn't answer," Jack argues. "That's not the same as declining. A few seconds more, and it might have left peacefully."

"You said it yourself, it was an addict." Anna glares at him. "It wouldn't have yielded to our demands."

"We don't know that."

"Nor do we know that it would have left. Captain, as the leader of this team, you need to be realistic, not idealistic. What happened was not your fault, and millions of children have been saved because of your actions. No human casualties. I'd call this mission nothing short of a success." Yet there is a distinct lack of pride in her words.

Their conversation is interrupted by Gwen's voice over the com. "Everything all right over there? Ianto? Is Jack all right?"

Obviously they'd been talking while he'd been in the darkness, or in the tank. Ianto moves to reply, but Jack beats him to it. "I'm fine, Gwen. Get in touch with Rhys, call him back to base. We have a lot to sort out, and that footage might speed along some of the paperwork."

"Red tape," Ianto comments, smiling at Anna. "Even Torchwood gets caught up in it sometimes."

She grimaces and pulls out her own radio transciever. "All units pull back. Target has been eliminated." She ends the call with an abrupt sigh. Jack glances across at her, notes her head still held high. Distorted and confused replies flood back through her radio, and she uses it once more. "I said pull back. That's an order. And release Lois Habiba while you're at it." Then she switches it off, stores it back in her pocket.

"You skimped a little on the details." Jack raises his eyebrows at her.

"No need to unnecessarily complicate things."

Jack glances across at Ianto, though his gaze is not met. Ianto is distracted, talking anxiously across the com to Gwen. Jack continues to stare. "You might be right."