Jack smacked at Owen's legs silently as he rang up Tosh. The doctor grumbled but pulled himself up, making room for Jack on the couch. The seating space was a little limited, especially after Owen had declared the bed off limits due to the fact that Ianto popped up like a wack-a-mole anytime either of them so much as got near it.

Owen listened in to the one sided conversation, vaguely considering having the couch all to himself again. Maybe if he kicked Jack?

"Tosh? Hey everything ok? No problems? Good." Jack nodded, and Owen wondered if he knew how stupid he looked.

"We're still at Ianto's, uh and speaking of that, could you or Gwen drop off a TV or something on your way home? Owen and I are going to wind up in blood shed soon if we don't have some form of amusement. Yeah, no he doesn't have a TV. It is scary, yes. So? Good, see you then."

Jack snapped his cell phone closed. "Gwen or Tosh'll be over soon with a something to keep us from going insane."

Owen sighed and went back to studying the ceiling. "Hope it's soon. I think I'm starting to snap already. Before you know it I'll be rocking in the corner, writing on the walls 'All work, no play make Owen go crazy'." It had been a really long fucking day. At least Ianto got to sleep through must of it.

Jack snorted and swatted at his head. "You are such a drama queen."

"Well Ianto's out, so not like we even have the crazy Ianto show to entertain us."

Jack gave him a sudden hard glare.

"Oh don't give me that look. It's not like there's anything else to do when we can't poke the crazy person." Owen was firmly of the belief that anything that couldn't be understood or controlled should be laughed at. "They used to do that for centuries before they suddenly decided it was wrong to poke crazy people and giggle."

Jack rolled his eyes. "Yes, you are just so more sensitive and caring. Your love of humanity is stunning I think I might just go into a diabetic coma from the sweetness over dose."

"Well at least poking your corpse would give me something to do...wanna try it?"

Jack snorted, and they slipped back into a sort of silence for God only knew how long.

After a while Ianto shifted, curling on to his side and knocking a few pillows off of the bed.

"Is Ianto going to be okay?" Jack asked suddenly. "How long is he going to be like...?" he settled for waving his hand in a vague circle near his temple.

Owen frowned and rubbed his face. "I don't know. It's brain damage. Days. Longer. There's no way to tell at this point. We just have to hope it gets better soon."

"What if it's not?"

"If it's not...well this is going to be a lot fucking harder." Owen shook his head sharply. "We're going to need help, if this is more then a few days. Even if it's not, the two of us can't baby-sit him 24/7. Hell I don't think even the four of us can."

Owen couldn't help but think that if it had been him, or one of the girls, Ianto would have been able to handle it, adding sitter to his list of job titles and still getting the coffees out properly and on time.

"So what do we do?"

"We're gonna have to hire someone. Lots of someones." Owen really didn't like to admit that he had thought about it, but he had been the one to interpret the scans, knew he would have to make some sort of Plan B just in case.

Actually, knowing Ianto, he'd probably approve, and offer up a Plan C, D, and E, one of which would undoubtedly involve a short course in proper body disposal. He could be a ruthless son of bitch when the job called for it.

"We can't take on any more Torchwood personnel-" Jack argued.

"I didn't say that. I was thinking more… home nurses. But it's going to get suspicious if a lot of them start showing up with missing memories." Owen shuddered a little. "And all things considering, Retcon doesn't sound so great at the moment."

Jack had begun to sit up straighter, managing to appear professional without saying anything. It was obvious that Jack was in boss mode.

"Any other options?" the captain said shortly.

Owen swallowed hard and looke d away. He tried to ignore the gnawing guilt that they were thinking of ways to get rid of the tea boy, already, knowing by the hard set in Jack's eyes that he felt the same.

"We can't take him to a psych unit. I mean yeah, anything he babbles about no one will believe, but still he knows too much for us to have him in this state around outsiders. He can't go in the field, or provide support from the hub. He probably shouldn't go into the archives by himself." Owen saw a twitch in Jack's jaw, and sighed. He really didn't want to think about this anymore. "Look, Jack. Honestly, it's too early to worry about this. Give him… a week. Then we can have this conversation again."

Jack winced and looked over at Ianto. "So we just hope he get's better soon..."

"Or at the very least stops going all 'special' on us. The actual concussion will take time to fully heal, but hopefully he'll stop having these… episodes."

Jack sighed. "Torchwood one had a whole hospital, just for staff."

"Yeah well they went and got them selves killed, and we're stuck baby sitting our injured people our selves."

Jack gave him a paranoid look. "You're sure your okay? Because we really, really, really can not deal with two of you being down right now..."

Oh for Christ's sake. Owen was starting to miss the Jack that had ordered him back to work while he was still recovering from attempted suicide by Weevil. It was all Ianto's fault of course. He had woken up Jack's inner coddler and then refused to stick around to deal with the consequences. Without the tea boy, Jack had set his worrying sights on the doctor.

Owen flipped him off, not even gracing him with a verbal reply.

"Well good to know, you're your old intelligent self. Where would I be, without that witty banter?" Jack said dryly.

Owen snorted. "Shagging the unconscious tea boy?" he went back to staring at the ceiling, effectively ending the conversation.

From the bed Ianto murmured in his sleep, burrowing deeper into the pile of pillows.