Thanks for being patient. I know I said 3 chapters, but I only managed to get 2 written, and I combined them into 1 as they were both the same situation...sorry. But I do have the next 2 weeks free-ish, so I shall be posting again by the end of the week for sure.

Enjoy.

Chapter 11

"That's...that's..." Jack stumbled to a halt as the not so dead man threw his arms around the boy leaning over him and pulled himself up to a sitting position.

"...not possible." The Captain finished. He turned to a wide-eyed Tosh beside him. "Go after Gwen and Owen, take the SUV and get back to the Hub. Tell them he's alive, nothing more."

Tosh looked at him questioningly.

"We don't know what's going on yet, but I'm going to find out."

Tosh nodded and went to leave, but then stopped as something occurred to her.

"You could have survived that."

"What?" Jack asked, confused.

Tosh nodded back to the scene of Cardiff's second localised earthquake in recent times, and then set off at a jog after her far ahead teammates.

The problem was his own thoughts had been dancing along the same lines, although he figured he was less likely to survive such an explosion than come back from it. Jack stared for a few more seconds, watching as the younger Agent started to help the other to his feet, keeping an arm around him for support. Needing to know what was going on Jack jogged over to meet them.

"Ianto?"

Blue-grey eyes locked onto his, and for a minute it really was Ianto Jones, his Ianto Jones staring back at him; young, confused, emotions flitting across his face, eyes open and so full of pain. He was clutching an arm to his stomach, mostly hiding from view the large tear in his bloody white vest, and he had a few small scratches decorating the visible parts of his body. All in all, miraculously uninjured for someone in his position.

"Jack." He was breathing heavily and the word came out rather faint and rushed, but it was heard nonetheless. He pushed himself up off of the boy, trying to stand on his own, only to stumble forwards as his legs gave way.

Jack reacted first, lunging forwards and catching him around the waist before he fell. The man now enfolded in his arms let out a gasp, pushing backwards again. Jack latched onto his forearms before he could pull away completely, and looked into Ianto's eyes. They were shining with fear, and something that looked a lot like pain...

Jack looked down at his arms and shirt. They were covered in blood: not his blood though.

The once-white vest opposite him had flapped open along the tear now there was no longer an arm to keep them in place. Revealed underneath was one long gash stretching along the left side of the torso underneath, from the hip upwards as far as the clothing showed. Beneath the torn skin was bloody, and obviously very painful.

"You okay?" He knew it was a stupid question, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to ask.

Ianto straightened up and blinked, and suddenly it was Jones who was standing there, held in Jack's grip.

"I'll live. Besides, the ladies dig scars."

"Not that you'll scar..." Jack muttered, eyes locked onto the bright green of the boy's behind. The young man titled his head, making his fringe fall in front of his eyes to obscure Jack's view of his face, a telltale sign that he hadn't yet mastered his poker face, and that Jack was at least partially right.

Flicking his eyes back to Jones, Jack was almost taken aback at the contrast between the man now in front of him and the one who had been there mere seconds ago, and who obviously still was there. Maybe he was just buried under the surface, maybe deep down, maybe mere centimetres. Maybe Jones was a mask he was wearing to protect himself, maybe Ianto had been the mask and Jones was the real-

Jack decided not to let that train of thought continue, and let go of Jones' arms.

Jones stepped back and straightened his clothing: a completely futile gesture considering most of his apparel was torn, bloody and creased.

Now Jack had a full view of the man in front of him, he could see the extent of the damage done, and not-done to him.

He looked and acted completely rationally – for a Time Agent – and there was no sign of a head wound, so no concussion; slightly bizarre after having half a road fall on you. Although it was also slightly bizarre to be alive at all in that situation.

The only serious injury he could see (or not-see as Jones had draped his arms over his torso again) was the gash on his side, but there were several cuts and hints at bruises decorating the exposed skin.

Jack's first reaction to the fact that Jones wasn't dead had been to think that he was somehow like himself. As he knew the man had travelled with the Doctor, it meat that although it wasn't very likely, it was still nonetheless possible that the same thing later happened to Ianto as happened to him.

But now he was being presented with indisputable evidence that Jones wasn't like him at all. Although alive where he had previously been dead – despite popular opinion Jack wasn't dense – he was definitely injured and in pain, and Jack's body healed after every death, leaving him as he had been before. And surely the Doctor would know about another fixed point in time and space? Surely he wouldn't have allowed it to happen again?

Had the kid had some kind of healing device?

Had Jones really been dead in the first place?

Jack blinked, bringing himself back to the present and realising he was still staring at Jones – not that that embarrassed him.

As if he'd been reading his thoughts, Jones gave a small grin and spoke, his serious tone at odds with the smile on his face. "We'll talk later."

His eyes flickered to the side, clearly indicating the other Agent behind. The message was clear: no talking in front of him. And thinking of 'him'...

"What your name then kid?"

The boy frowned, not as if annoyed at being referred to as 'kid', but more like in confusion. Jones spoke up for him.

"Jack, this is Marge Alec."

Marge Alec frowned again, and opened his mouth to speak, but once again Jones spoke for him.

"Alec, this is Jack Harkness."

"Captain." Jack put in.

Jones rolled his eyes. "Captain Jack Harkness." He corrected.

Alec went to speak yet again but Jones half turned and shot him a look that seemed suspiciously like the one he had given Jack not a minute earlier.

A quick conversation without words with his friend, and Jones turned back to face Jack. Not wanting to make it seem like he cared, Jack refrained from asking what their relationship was, going instead for the most obvious question.

"Marge?"

The Time Agents shared another look, this one harder to analyse.

"Incident with some butter substitutes in the 1800s. Best not to go into detail – might cause the world to implode."

"Ah." He didn't enquire further.

Unexpectedly, Jones stumbled again, but this time caught himself before either Jack or Alec had a chance a react. Jack didn't miss the stab of pain in his face, even if it was there for only a second.

Obviously Alec hadn't missed it either, although being behind Jones Jack wasn't entirely sure how that was possible. However, it was, and the younger man's hand slipped slowly to Jones' and squeezed before retreating.

Jones shot him a small smile, before letting the mask fall in place once more.

But Jack didn't miss how he clutched his hand closer to his stomach, and he also didn't miss how his fingertips were coated in red. He was worried, but he knew Jones wouldn't want him to show it, wouldn't want his concern, especially not in front of Alec, who seemed to look up to him. So Jack kept quiet: he hoped he wouldn't regret it.

There was a pause in the conversation, where everyone suddenly realised that they had nothing left that all three of them could discuss, and that they'd really just been wasting time.

Jones turned to Alec before the silence became awkward.

"Whatever happened to stay on the ship?"

"I got bored – and it was a good thing I did."

Jones sighed, knowing when he was defeated. "Is there anything left of Fred?"

Alec shook his head. "Nope, 'cept some blood and guts."

"What about our tech?"

"Couldn't see none of that neither."

Jones nodded but frowned at the same time. "Watch your grammar and get back to the ship, do a full sweep of the area from above; make sure nothing gets left behind. This lot would probably find some way to kill each other with it, and obliterate the future."

Alec grinned.

"And make sure you don't uncloak – we don't want a repeat of last time."

The young man's face took on a decidedly sheepish appearance, and Jack wondered what exactly had happened 'last time'.

Then Alec stuck out his arm – the one with his Vortex Manipulator attached, and Jones punched something into it.

Suddenly Jack understood.

Honestly he should have realised earlier; all the signs were there: Alec was only a cadet, not a Time Agent, new to Retrieval, probably hadn't been with the Agency too long by the look of him. Recruits weren't allowed to use a lot of their equipment without the authorisation of a fully authorised Retrieval Agent. Jones wasn't his mission partner, his friend, his lover, ect...he was his teacher, his babysitter.

In the Agency they were often called Watchers, not everyone was one as most of the older Agents were too rude, mean or insane to look after anyone but themselves, and sometimes they couldn't even do that. There weren't often changes in Retrieval anyway, most veterans liked their jobs too much so the turnover rate was surprisingly low, and most recruits preferred to keep their sanity relatively intact thank you very much. So when there was a new batch of idiots in for processing, each was given a Watcher, who – quite literally – watched over them. It was a way of integrating them into the system, and letting them get to know how everything worked without risking blowing up the universe.

Alec was a new recruit – hence his inability to mask his feelings, or act much like a Time Agent at all: Jones was his Watcher.

The fact that Jones and Alec weren't involved brought Jack a strange feeling of relief, something he decided he wasn't going to think about, and would in fact just pretend it had never happened in the first place.

He watched as Alec disappeared in a flash of-

"Pink? You made his teleport pink?"

Jones gave a small shrug, and took a deep, rattling breath, which didn't go unnoticed by Jack.

"Hey – you okay?" Repetition of stupid questions doesn't make them any less stupid, or deserve any less than a stupid answer. Therefore it was of great surprise to Jack that that wasn't what he got.

"I could do with a bandage." Jones smiled weakly, and pulled a completely bloody hand away from the remains of his vest. "And a bath and a change of clothes wouldn't go amiss either – for both of us." He added, taking in the Captain's appearance as well as his own.

"Together?" Jack had long since learned that actually showing concern where Time Agents were involved wasn't usually the best policy: it was a much safer bet to stick to what they knew best.

Jones grinned, this one anything but weak, and definitely not innocent. "That depends, Captain, on how good you are, and how quickly we get back to the hub..."

Jack grinned back. "Well, we're going to have to use that anyway," he gestured to Jones' wrist strap, "because the rest of the team took the SUV."

Jones' face fell. In other circumstances Jack would've laughed at the comic value of such a move on Ianto's face, but he had a feeling it didn't bode well for him.

It didn't.

Jones blinked. "It doesn't work."

"What?"

"It doesn't work: that's why I was trapped under that lot in the first place; this thing's faulty and I couldn't get the teleport to get me out in time."

Judging from the flicker of amusement in the other man's face his own reaction was also comedy gold. They both looked at each other for a couple of seconds, and then Jack's eyes widened and he was frantically searching through his pockets, as Jones looked on with his eyebrows raised.

Finally coming across what he was looking for in a trouser pocket, he pulled it out and presented it to Jones, whose face took on a more gleeful expression again.

"I knew it'd come in useful." He swiftly took the sonic screwdriver off Jack, twisted some part Jack had never realised twisted before, and made it light up and hum.

Whilst Jack himself had been quite good at using the thing (when the Doctor let him) on the Tardis, he could tell that Jones' skill with the instrument was top notch. Knowing Ianto as he did he shouldn't have been surprised: the man had always had a knack for getting things to work for him, and to work well – take the coffee machine for example; Ianto had been the only one who could use the thing, let alone make good coffee with it...

Jack suddenly realised he was referring to Ianto in the past tense. Although the man was technically standing in front of him, Jack only had Jones' word that he'd get his Ianto back, and he still distrusted all Time Agents on principle – wisely so.

He looked up to see Jones looking at him, a small, knowing smirk on his face. For a second Jack wondered if he'd become telepathic, but soon dismissed the idea after projecting a few very obscene thoughts across and getting no visible reaction. Shame really: it could have been fun to freak out Owen.

Jones stuck his arm out to Jack, wiggling his fingers as he did so: the sonic screwdriver had disappeared again. Jack's mind brought up pictures of another man doing exactly the same thing, but he didn't comment.

"Fixed?" he asked instead.

Jones nodded and hit a button as Jack grabbed hold of his outstretched arm.

Space twisted and then they were-

"HOLY SHIT!"

On second thoughts maybe materialising in the middle of the Hub hadn't been the best of ideas.

TBC