Tosh arrived at Ianto's flat 15 minutes later, stopping the car in the nearly-empty parking lot. It was a nice place. Not shabby looking, well kept. Very Ianto-like. She made her way to the door, pulling out the spare key to the lock, and opened it.

The flat was empty. No Ianto, or any sign of him. Everything was neat and in it's place, just as it always was. She looked around for any sign of something out of the ordinary, finding nothing to give them any clues. Owen soon followed behind, double-checking what Toshiko had searched. He still found nothing.

"Where's the little teaboy gone off too..." he thought out loud, enough for Tosh to hear. Immediately she stopped in her tracks.

"What if he's left us? I wouldn't blame him. He puts up with enough shit from you. You calling him teaboy and such. Y'never give him a break, do you? He's probably left 'cos you're such a bloody prick!" The angry words made from frustration and worry spilled out, making Owen flinch. This was unusual for Tosh, but Owen couldn't blame her. He never did give the kid a break, always on his case. And Tosh seemed to worry about Ianto most out of the three of them. Gwen was always too busy with Rhys or Owen, and Owen was too busy with Gwen to really care about anything about the man. Only Tosh, lonely Tosh would take notice. She'd seen the flinches and irritation from the Welshman after he'd received a tongue-lashing from Dr. Harper. The pent-up anger from biting her tongue for so long had broken free, and as she finished, Tosh's eyes shot open wide as she paled, quickly apologizing for what she'd said, claiming she didn't mean it (even though she did).

Owen faked just brushing it off as he headed for the door, saying that it didn't bother him, when inside, it ate him up.


Riling from the unwanted touch, Ianto made quick work of cleaning himself, scrubbing off the dried blood and dirt, the water quickly browning from the filth.

A towel sat on the counter, folded neatly. He rose from the water, stepping over the edge of the tub, water dripping down onto the tiling. The air felt cold against him, so he quickly wrapped the fabric around him, drying the water from his skin.

Sure enough, at the end of the ten minutes, the Captain was back, carrying clean clothes. The pile was handed to Ianto to change into. He quickly put the clothes on, smoothing them out. They weren't fancy- just a pair of boxers, jeans, what was meant to be an undershirt, and a pair of socks. They were all a bit big, but at least they were proper clothes, and not the tattered pieces he'd been wearing earlier.

Once he was dressed, the shackle was re-attached to his ankle. The door was opened and Ianto was lead out, back to his 'room' (which was more of a cell to him. Room implies comfort and familiarity, where as this was a prison to him). The end of the chain was put back into place on the floor, and Ianto sat on the edge of the bed, feet and legs curled up beneath him. He said nothing, instead staring at his captor intently.

"If looks could kill," the Captain joked, chuckling lightheartedly to himself. Seeing the scowl on Ianto's face, he shrugged. "I don't understand why you're so against this. It's not like I've killed you. Then you'd have an excuse to be upset. Trust me, I've been there. It's especially not fun to be woken up to only stay for a millisecond, then back into the darkness..." suddenly, Jack seemed to have aged ten years, his face losing it's smile, and his eyes darkening.

With a shake of his head, he was back to the way he was moments ago, as if he hadn't ever said anything.

Ianto remained silent.

Jack sat down, back against the wall, eyeing Ianto. The minutes turned into a game of will, Ianto fighting the urge to ask why him, to beg to be let go. But no, he wouldn't. He knew better. If you give in, you give away your power, and those against you win everything.

He wouldn't let the Captain have it all. Having him was enough; but not his sanity, nor his pride. Captivity was enough.

"You're better off here, you know. Safe from the world. Protected."

Ianto scoffed. "Yeah, with a psychotic man who claims to have lived more than once, and who's completely destroyed my life. Completely better off. I feel so safe." His voice, loaded with sarcasm, was sharp, each word intended to be a bullet.

Except Jack had a bulletproof vest on.

Ianto was wrong. He was safe here. He couldn't be hurt by anyone.
Jack would take care of him.
Jack would keep him safe.

Ianto was wrong.

That's how he saw it. Just protection, just safety. His success in attacking Ianto last night proved that he could not survive the world without him. That's why he had to take care of him. Right and wrong collided, and for the first time in many a millenium, Jack Harkness had someone that he could save, even when he couldn't save himself.