AN: I sort of lost confidence and enthusiasm for this, hence the long time between updates. I finished this off today, in a bit of a hurry so there may be mistakes. I'm not giving up on this, but it may take me a long time to update again.

Ianto Jones stood at the cliff's edge, staring down at the ocean beneath him. The sun was setting beyond the horizon, casting a burnt orange glow over the clear water. This wasn't Earth, wasn't anywhere near the solar system in fact, but it felt close enough.

After his initial disappointment at having found nothing of his own world, he'd stopped off at a couple of planets before arriving at this one. Nothing existed of Gallifrey. Where the sphere should have been was nothing but empty space, and he couldn't even go back in time as there was a Time-Lock in place.

The TARDIS knew nothing of their planet's demise, and he could feel her irritability and anger crashing like waves against him. At least when he escaped the TARDIS he could feel alone and more like his own man.

The wind picked up, and he found himself again wishing that he had picked his coat up from its position on a branch in Bute Park. Luckily he still possessed his suit, and his parents had seemed to pick up a few on their travels as inexplicably there seemed to be a few dozen suits in the wardrobe. No coats though, and that was an odd thing. He'd have to pick one up on his travels.

Coats, however, were the last things on his mind. His most pressing concern was the Doctor. There were a lot of things that he didn't understand, such as the disappearance of Gallifrey and the lapses in his memories, and the Doctor was the only person he could turn to for answers.

It was the discrepancies in his memory that was preventing him from understanding where they had parted company. He remembered waking up and talking to the Doctor, but he fell asleep shortly after. The next time he awoke he was alone in the TARDIS.

But didn't the Doctor take Owen and Toshiko away? He watched the waves of the ocean crash against the cliff and felt the fog in his mind start to part. The Doctor left him alone to talk to Jack, the memory came back to him, but Jack was gone too. Where was Jack?

Did he leave with the Doctor as well? No, he wouldn't do a thing like that. Would he? Maybe Jack couldn't handle Ianto being an alien now. Although from the stories Jack had told him in the past, one would think that might be an advantage in Jack's eyes.

It dawned on him suddenly that in the three days since his transformation, he had not given a single thought to Jack. Where was Jack? Where was anybody for that matter? He had started out his voyage with four others, and he was alone in space with no clue of their location.

Making sure his tie was straight, he turned around to enter his Tardis. He would attempt to locate his old team, especially Jack. Recent events had left him confused, terrified and alone, and Jack would ground him, would hold him and make him feel safe.

He pulled open the door to the phone box (he hadn't worked out the chameleon circuit yet) and headed to the central console. The cylinder pulsed and hummed softly, flooding Ianto with a feeling of comfort. Ianto allowed himself to be soothed, and as the Tardis suggested a new place to explore he readily agreed.

He set a new course, and began to take flight. Forgetting at once what he came in to do.

The first thing he was aware of was a dull ache in his chest. The second thing he noticed was the oxygen mask clamped across his mouth. He ripped the mask away, taking in deep gulps of the air in the medical room. He took in his surroundings. In a cruel twist of irony, he found himself lying in an identical bed, in an identical room to the one where Ianto recovered from his metamorphosis all those years ago.

The dull ache in his chest flared at the thought of his former lover. In an attempt to ignore it, he focused on another pain. Looking down along his arm, he saw a tube inserted into the back of his hand. An IV drip was feeding liquid through the tube. Scanning further down his body, he found another tube inserted in his stomach. With a groan of discomfort, he clawed his fingers around the tube and attempted to pull it out. He bit his lip as the pain became unbearable.

Owen entered the room, noticing immediately Jack's attempts to pull the feeding tube out. He rushed over and restrained his Captain with an unexpected strength. Jack began to squirm beneath Owen's arms, panicked and alarmed.

"Easy, Jack! You're severely malnourished, dehydrated and close to death. This is for your own good."

Jack managed to free one hand from Owen's restraint and made another attempt to wrench the feeding tube out.

"Oh no, you don't!" Owen captured the hand and pinned it by Jack's side. "As your doctor, I'm ordering you to leave it alone! Do you want to die?"

Jack made no reply, but Owen could see in his eyes what the answer was.

"Oh, great; a depressed, suicidal immortal. This is way outside of my expertise. Doctor!" Owen bellowed. "Listen Jack, whatever happened, it can be fixed, ok?" As he watched Jack's head roll lifelessly to the side, and witnessed a tear escape and slowly trail down Jack's cheek, he wondered if things had changed forever.

After saving two planets from being consumed by a star gone supernova, managing to correct an ice planet's alignment that had been knocked off course and heading straight into a sun, and helping to establish democracy in a fiercely fascist republic, Ianto was starting to feel a bit uneasy. He had adapted to his new life with little difficulty; able to play the hero without a second thought.

The Tardis had guided his every step, influencing and instructing him in what to do. He realised that without her, he wouldn't be able to save all those aliens and life forms. She was moulding him into a better man.

A hero.

A Time Lord.

But for all his worthy deeds, Ianto felt numb. He was unable to remember the faces of the ones he saved. He felt no emotional attachment to his work. It was almost mechanical, and this was what troubled him most. He felt as if on autopilot, utterly powerless in his own body. His actions and words operated by remote-control.

The Tardis was weak; having lied dormant for so long before a frenzy of activity had drained her resources. They had no choice but to return to Cardiff and use the rift to charge up their batteries.

And so, Ianto found himself outside the Millennium Centre once more. The Tardis needed to be dormant while energising, and was forced to relinquish her control over Ianto. He breathed in the sea air, and knew he was home.

Before he left the Tardis, he scanned the base below the water tower. Only Gwen and Rhys were below the Plass. Jack, Owen and Tosh were still missing. Now he began to get worried, why hadn't they returned yet? He looked at the Tardis, making a note to locate them once she was back online.

A scent drifted though on a breeze, and Ianto closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. He had missed that smell so much. With a new purpose, he set off across the fish bowl with only one thing on his mind.

Caffeine.

Within a few days, through careful monitoring and treatment, Owen and the Doctor had managed to restore Jack back to health. At times the Doctor wondered whether it would perhaps be easier to let Jack die and allow his own body to mend its wounds, but what that would do to Jack's already fragile mental state was an unknown factor, and the Doctor would rather not take that risk.

He had given Owen and Tosh some simple diagnostic tests to carry out in the main room, affording Jack and him some privacy. The immortal was sitting in his bed, gradually allowing his mental state to re-sync and take in what had happened. The Doctor's thoughts wandered off on a tangent, wondering what you would call a man that could die, but always come back to life. Certainly not immortal, that implies that you could never die. Jack could die over and over again.

"You came back for me." Jack's voice was strained and quiet, his vocal chords unused for almost a decade. The Doctor detected incredulity in his words.

"Well, had to, didn't I? Never would have heard the last of it otherwise." The Doctor studied Jack's face, screwed up in concentration as he struggled to remember.

"I called you...No, you weren't there. I left a message... Did I? Did I leave a message?"

"Yes, Jack. We got the message. Unfortunately, it was impossible to get to you any sooner than we did. I tried, believe me. There was a lock around the planet."

"Where's..." Jack cut off, unwilling to talk about the other man. The Doctor, however was not keen to avoid the subject.

"You said Ianto was in trouble," he noticed the way Jack flinched when he said Ianto's name, and made a note to get the absolute bottom of this, "I came to find you first. If Ianto's in trouble, I need your help. You're the only one who really knows him. He trusts you, cares about you." Jack shook his head vigorously, denying the Doctor's words with vehemence.

"He hates me. I'm nothing to him." Jack's fingers found their way to the bandage over his stomach and absently began to pick at it.

"Jack," the Doctor admonished, stilling Jack's fingers. He thought back to the young man he spoke to in the medical room. He could see the connection between Ianto and Jack, there was loyalty there, and love; respect and adoration. Without Jack, the Doctor knew Ianto would be lost and alone. Yet it seemed Ianto had utterly broken Jack. "I want to know what happened, Jack. Every single thing."

"You were right, Doctor. He's just like the Master. And it's not even that thing doing it to him." Jack breathed deeply as memories of their last meeting began to choke him. "He murdered me, Doctor. He killed me. He's a murderer. My..." Jack stopped himself from saying his Ianto. That wasn't true anymore. He still couldn't bear to speak his name. "He killed me."

"He was being influenced, Jack. He's not a killer, you know that."

Jack shook his head again, looking up at the Doctor with a clear gaze.

"He said, just before, he said that he'd killed three girls. Strangled them. After I – Torchwood killed Lisa. It's strange – I know it's true. I can't explain, I can't remember it, but I know he was telling the truth."

"You can't know that."

"But I do. It's in the back of my mind, blocked from my memories. He's killed before and he'll do it again."

"That's it, then? You're going to give up? No second chances, that's about right for you, isn't it, Jack?"

"I recall you abandoning me on the Game Station. What was it you said? You ran away from me."

"That's right, and I'm not proud of it. But look at us now, Jack. You've forgiven me. From the sounds of it, Ianto is in serious danger and he needs our help. And you're prepared to abandon him for something you have no memory of."

"He killed me."

"Which is an indicator to me that something is skew-whiff about this whole thing. Despite what you believe, Ianto is not a killer."

"When did you become such an expert on my boyfriend?" Jack grumbled. The Doctor just grinned.

"Aha! You do still love him."

Jack couldn't deny it. Even after everything Ianto did to him, he would always love him. It was the thought that Ianto no longer cared about him that hurt him more than those hands around his neck.

"Excellent! We're going to find him, Jack. And we're going to fix this mess. Molto bene!" The Doctor clapped his hands together and dashed out of the room. Jack pushed himself out of the bed and followed slowly.

At one time, the thought of seeing Ianto after eight and a half year might have made him smile and filled his belly; now he wanted to weep.

Whistling a tune that seemed to be a cross between 'Dancing Queen' and 'I Don't Feel Like Dancing', PC Andy Davidson walked across the plass armed with a tray of four coffees. He looked over to the invisible lift in front of the water tower mournfully; Gwen and Rhys hadn't actually asked him to be a full-fledged member of Torchwood yet, much to his disappointment. He thought he had proved himself, liaising between them and the police in order to bring them bizarre and weird cases since Jack and the other lot mysteriously vanished.

He passed a phone box, serving as a reminder to give his mam a ring later; she'd left a ton of messages on his answering machine asking about his promotion. It was a small lie, but it made him sound more successful than PC Andy.

No; Gwen and Rhys seemed happy to man the fort by themselves. Of course they'd employed a new physician - only temporarily so they keep saying - a sweet girl by the name of Martha, he wondered briefly if she was seeing anyone.

The lift was off limits to non-employees, but they couldn't stop him from using the tourist office entrance. Well they'd tried, but if there was one thing that could be said about PC Andy Davidson, it's that he was persistent.

So he'd decided to bring them coffees, and a messenger bag filled with unsolved cases that might have a touch of the extra-terrestrial about them.

And maybe this time when he asked for a job, they couldn't find any reason to turn him down.

He scanned his surroundings, as was a force of habit, and stopped dead in the middle of the fish-bowl.

Leaning his elbows against the railings, and cradling a cup of coffee in his arms was a suited gentleman. He popped the lid off of his cup and inhaled the aroma, eyes closing in delight as he savoured the welcome scent of his beverage. Then he sipped it. And Andy didn't go in for all that poof malarkey, but the orgasmic expression on the gentleman's face as he tasted his coffee certainly made him hot under the collar.

The gentleman looked down at him and caught him staring, one eyebrow raised in questioning. If he recognised him at all he made no show of it. Without another word or gesture, the gentleman recapped his coffee and walked in the direction of the millennium centre.

"St... Stop!" Andy called after him, not very forcefully. "Police!" He struggled with the coffees in one hand and the bag in the other to dig out his ID. In the meantime, the suited gentleman had turned around to face him, amused at his bumbling behaviour.

"I know who you are, Andy Davidson."

"You're one of them Torchwood lot, I recognise you."

"I used to work for Torchwood."

"Oh, I see. Does Gwen know about your resignation, then? And where are the others, eh?"

Ianto's face fell at the mention of Gwen. He had quite completely forgotten about the compassionate woman. How was she coping on her own? Well, perhaps she wasn't on her own, after all Rhys had proven himself capable with the alien manatee, small matter of getting shot notwithstanding. And Andy? Did he work there too?

"Please pass on my deepest apologies to Gwen. Due to unforeseen circumstances I cannot return to Torchwood. And as for the others, I don't know where they are. Their last known whereabouts were with the Doctor. She'll know what I mean." And Ianto turned away once more.

"No." Andy had to compose himself not to reel back in surprise at how commanding his voice sounded. Maybe hanging around with Gwen was helping him. As it was, Ianto was now staring at him with surprise and shock.

"No, what?"

"You know Gwen Cooper as well as I do, and if I tell her what you just told me, well then she won't be happy, will she? She'll tell me to go over it again and again; 'Was there anything I missed? What do you think he meant by this word? That word? Are you sure he didn't say anything else? Why can't he come back?' No, thank you, mate. Facing a grilling like that? I think she'd appreciate it more if she heard it from you."

Andy's adept summation of Gwen was spot on and Ianto almost chuckled. As for Gwen preferring to hear the truth from the horse's mouth, Ianto couldn't refute that but he just couldn't deal with that at present. He'd rather Gwen remembered him the way he was; faithful, stoic, quiet, dependable Ianto. Time for a swift subject change.

"And what have they got you doing? Fetching coffees?" He pointed to the tray in Andy's hand.

"Hardly." Andy looked affronted at the suggestion. "This is just a gift, really, butter them up, like." His eyes opened wide as he realised he'd said a bit too much. Ianto only noted that there were four cups on the tray; assuming one for Andy, Gwen and Rhys, who was the other for?

"You're not fully signed up then?"

"Not as such. I more sort of freelance for them, bring them weird cases, spooky doings and all that."

"You're a police constable. I suppose that means you'd go out of your way to prove someone's innocence and another's guilt?"

"Of course I would, you daft git!"

"What about aliens?"

Andy felt the tray slipping from his hands and dropped his bag in order to save them. The bag remained forgotten on the floor as he considered Ianto's question.

"Aliens?" Andy repeated, receiving a nod from the other man. "I suppose... if they were innocent, are there good aliens out there then?" Another nod and then a wry smile. "Wow, you'd never think with all that happens with Torchwood. Justice for all, yeah, that's me!"

Ianto's smile seemed to grow wider, and Andy gulped as he felt as if he had just signed up for something of which he knew nothing about.

"I've got something to show you, PC Andy Davidson."

Gwen stood by the fax machine as the last of the missing person's reports came through. Recently, the numbers of disappearances in Cardiff had gone through the roof and with the disappearance of four fifths of Torchwood as well, she taken a personal interest in it. Her project, Rhys had called it, though he had only been too happy to help after she glared daggers at him.

She flicked through the files as she wandered back to her desk, stopping dead as she recognised one of the faces.

"What's the matter with you?" Rhys asked, looking up from his desk at his frozen wife. "You'll catch flies, standing about like that." He pointed to her open mouth. Wordlessly she handed him the missing person's poster and he looked at it with confusion. "But that's Andy..."

"Would somebody mind explaining to me, what the BLOODY hell is going on around here?" Gwen snapped.

Rhys decided it was time for a coffee.