Jack sat by Ianto's bedside, half listening to the ipod that had been hooked up to the speakers. Tosh had brought it, mentioning something about familiar sounds and custom play lists. Jack vaguely remembered her explaining how she had used star ratings and play counts to find Ianto's favourites. Funny that, Jack had never figured the man for a Broadway fan. He knew Ianto would be touched by the effort when he woke up, if slightly embarrassed.
His eyes flicked up to the monitors; again, wanting to reassure him self Ianto wasn't as dead as he looked. Gray and still, with a shadow of a beard and unruly hair. Jack was incredible grateful, that Owen had threatened had railed at him until he had signed off on a new, state-of-the-art infirmary. He didn't want to think about them having to try to treat Ianto in the autopsy bay, with whatever spare equipment Owen had acquired over the years. He didn't want to imagine Ianto on a dissection table, looking like he did now.
Jack shifted, relieving the pain in his leg from sitting still too long. He hadn't felt his feet in awhile.
It'd been two days. Two hellish days of Owen frantically working to try to save Ianto. He was still unconscious, but at some point Owen had decided that Ianto would live, at least until the doctor decided to kill him. He had started running interference, keeping his teammates from underfoot with reassurances that 'Ianto's doing better, and would you all please back the fuck off already?'
He didn't want to think about it. He didn't want to remember. But despite himself, his eyes squeezed shut and he could see it playing like a horrible movie behind his eyelids. Ianto seizing again on the lift, nearly throwing them all off of the platform as they pinned him to the paving stone. Lifting him onto the gurney that had been waiting. Tosh had climbed up on the gurney with Ianto, straddling his hips and pumping air steadily into lungs that could no longer function, and they had headed to the infirmary at a run. Why had they put it so far away from the main hub? There had been a good reason, Jack was sure.
IVs, stomach pumps, charcoal, medications, it was all a blur for Jack, but he prayed that it had worked. Ianto had been in and out of it, not quite all there at any point since he'd gone to sleep on the long, desperate drive back. He hadn't breathed for himself for hours. Jack was terrified he might never wake up. Even though Owen said he would. He was just so still. The guilt gnawed at him. Why hadn't he noticed? He'd always prided him self on being a people person. On talking to people, getting to know them. And yet he hadn't realised he man he loved was this sick?
"Oi! Broody. Coffee's here."
He glanced up as an exhausted looking Owen came in and handed him a mug. He hesitated and took a sip, then winced. Owen obviously hadn't been improving his coffee making skills.
"Don't give me that. It's got caffeine ain't it?" He drank from his own mug, bracing himself and indulging in a full body shudder. Jack knew the feeling. "God I miss Ianto's coffee... I don't know what he does. I swear if I wasn't so addicted to the stuff myself I'd test it for alien compounds, or crack or something."
Jack snorted. "So where have you been?"
"Now that he's stable, I went to see that Dr. Brenson that Ianto's been going to. Fucking quack." Owen snarled. "Had some lovely therapy. Screamed my self nearly horse, then retconned his ass back to the Stone Age. He's managing a Jubilees Pizza in London. The worst he can do is clog innocent arteries. I doubt he'd even recognize a prescription pad if he saw one."
Jack hid his smile behind the bitter coffee. Owen had become protective of their young Welshman rather quickly. "That's good. I was going to visit tomorrow. My plan involved taking Myfanwy for walkies though, with some barbecue sauce."
Owen choked on his coffee, drowning a laugh. "You are an evil man Harkness. Wish I'd thought of that."
Jack set his mug down on the night table and watched Ianto closely, picking up his hand, hoping for any sign he was still in there. "He looks rather peaceful doesn't he?" "Yeah well wait till he's shoving a gun in your face and screaming his head off for Percodan."
"What?" Jack tightened his hold on Ianto's limp hand.
"He's been on large doses for a while now. He's going to go though withdrawal. Just like any drug user." Owen sighed and pressed the heel of his hand into his eyes. "As if we haven't had enough fun yet, right?"
"But...he's not a junkie!" Jack protested. It had been an accident. Ianto had just been trying to get help.
"Doesn't have to be. You use anything addictive long term and you're gonna go through withdrawal. Look at us. Two days and we're getting twitchy because Ianto's not supplying us with bottomless coffee cups, and that's just caffeine. Ianto's going to go bat shit crazy wanting his drugs."
Jack gave him a horrified look.
Owen sighed. "Jack, he's going to be ok. He's survived the worst of it now, and he'll survive the withdrawal. Just like he'll survive Gwen and Tosh smothering him, and you treating him like he's made of glass. It's just a matter of waiting for his lazy arse to wake up so I can kick it for scaring the shit out of all of us like that." Owen paused. "And there's that very long, loud lecture I promised him." A small, but dangerous smile reached his mouth.
"Oh yes. That's really going to make me want to wake up." Ianto's horse whisper, tinged with a heavy accent floated from the bed. "Failed your bedside manner class, I presume?" Both men's heads jerked sharply up towards Ianto's face. He watched them tiredly.
"Ianto! You're awake!" Jack was out of his chair and leaning in over Ianto, a huge grin on his face, his hands brushing carefully over Ianto's face and tangling in his hair.
"Hey." Ianto breathed.
"Hey." Jack replied, dipping in and pressing a kiss to the corner of Ianto's mouth, torn and bruised from where the breathing tube had been secured.
"Oi! Stop molesting the patients." Owen roughly shoved Jack out of the way and started checking Ianto over. "Good morning, Idiot." He greeted him. "How are you feeling?"
"Rather...dreadful."
"No shit. You nearly died. Because you went to some fucking quack excuse for a doctor, didn't tell me what medication you were taking, and I ended up overdosing you after you got your self mauled while you were up to your eyeballs in Oxycodone." Owen was very quickly getting up to foaming-at-the-mouth rage as he ranted, though his hands were still gentle as he checked the stitches on Ianto's arm.
Ianto looked up at Owen through his lashes, and Jack immediately recognized that particular expression. It often showed up when Ianto was trying to make himself look harmless and contrite. Jack wondered if Owen could resist it better than he could. "I'm sorry I caused so much trouble, Owen. Thank you for taking care of me."
That took the wind out of Owen's sails, and Jack smirked as the doctor visibly deflated. Chalk up one more victim to the Ianto Jones' Puppy Dog Eyes.
To Owen's credit he rallied quickly, tucking Ianto's arm back under the covers. "Fine, but next time we're snogging in the backseat I fully expect you to follow through."
Ianto gave Jack a panicked look, and the monitoring equipment protested at the sudden spike.
"I think the technical term is mouth to mouth resuscitation." Jack reassured him, sounding amused.
Owen smirked as Ianto blushed, and concentrated on the machines' readouts for another minute before starting yawn.
Jack gently pulled the doctor back, away from the bed. "I think you need to go get some sleep. Have you gotten more then an hour or two in the last two days?"
Owen resolutely did not look Jack in the eye.
"Thought so. Now that Ianto's awake-" He looked over to see Ianto's eyes sliding shut, before snapping open again. "…mostly. Why don't you go get some rest?"
"Owen's going home?" Ianto looked a little nervous at proclamation, and Jack filed that piece of information away.
"It's fine. He's crashing in my bed."
"What about you?"
"I'm staying here."
"...your bed?" Ianto's eyes widened. "Did you change the sheets?"
Jack lightly banged his head against the wall.
Owen snickered before taking a deep breath and rubbing his hands over his face. "I'll be down in Jack's room, catching a short nap. If anything, and I mean anything changes, call me! And I'm talking 'sneezing funny' level of changes. I have the laptop set up with the CCTV running."
Jack gave him a look. "You're supposed to be getting some sleep."
"Well if I trusted you not to coddle him, I could!" Owen snapped, grabbing his coffee mug, sloshing more out on the floor. He stomped out of the small room muttering about annoying sheep-fucking Welsh men, and their lousy pathetic looking eyes.
"He means that with love." Jack clarified, shutting the door in Owen's wake.
Ianto gave a doubtful hum.
"Do I really coddle?" Jack asked, turning to face the bed.
Ianto looked faintly amused. "It's in your nature, Sir." Ianto shifted and winced slightly, opening his eyes to see Jack already back at his side. "Not that I'm complaining."
He smiled and pulled Jack down gently for a kiss.
"I really am sorry," He murmured, pressing his face against Jack's neck as the kiss broke, burrowing into the familiar scent.
"I know." Jack whispered back, kissing him lightly on the ear. He grinned wickedly "Though I think you're still in trouble with Owen." He laughed as Ianto made a worried noise against his throat.