Author's Note: Wordcount: 46694. Please send me love, I have a 15 hour day tomorrow. *Goes to bed tired but happy*

Ianto slumped against the door as soon as he got inside and rubbed the back of his neck tiredly. John watched him but said nothing, giving him the chance to get inside and take his jacket off. He sat on the steps close to the sofas where John was sitting and rested his elbows on his knees to rub at his eyes. "You sold him to them," he challenged him quietly.

"Yes," he admitted.

"Why?"

"Because they didn't want me," he snapped, but didn't rise. "Because I was small fry, but if I failed to comply, they'd add aiding and abetting a known criminal onto both our charge sheets," he gave a heavy sigh and shook his head. "For him no biggie, he's never going to see the light of day without that one anyway. For me, it meant the difference between dying free and dying in a box, staring at the same walls until I went mad and stopped eating."

"That's how it works, is it?" Ianto asked in a flat tone. "They lock him away and leave him to die. Except he won't, will he?"

"It's a time lock," John explained tiredly. "Put you in it and time outside your bubble stops for you. Food replicates, waste dereplicates, or whatever the word for that is. And the lock disengages when it detects that life signs have stopped."

"With a delay so that it can't be tricked?" Ianto guessed. "How long is the delay?"

"Twenty four hours."

"And how long would it take Jack to come back to life?" he asked.

John turned to him and frowned. "You should know this one, better than I do. Why don't you know anything about me?"

He shrugged. "Should I?"

"You should hate me," John told him quietly. "The last time you saw me, you told me that if you ever saw me again, if Jack wasn't there to stop you, you'd kill me. And you meant it. But now... now you can't decide whether to trust me or not, but you don't hate me. So..." he stretched and stood up, coming to lean on the pillar above Ianto. "Why don't you remember me, Ianto Jones? Did he take your memories? Why would he do that, though?"

"I'm from a parallel universe," Ianto sighed. "I'm not the Ianto you met, I'm not the Ianto that Jack loves. I'm just a poor facsimile."

John came and sat down next to him. "You're a fresh start, more like. I'm guessing you don't know most of the shit that you can Jack put each other through, and yet you love him anyway."

"Hang on, you're saying that I love him despite not knowing all the bad stuff?"

"Yeah," he shrugged. "Because it's the bad stuff that shows you how important you are to each other, because once you get through it, you've got through it."

"Huh," Ianto laughed. "I guess. So what did you do?"

John shrugged. "Saved my own skin and, in doing so, got two of Jack's team killed and caused him to be buried alive for two thousand years," Ianto's face flushed in sudden fury and John raised an eyebrow. "Oh, now you look like the Eye Candy I remember."

"You utter shit," Ianto growled.

"Yeah," he smiled sadly and stood up again, walking away. "I am, and the Time Agency knew it. Regretting keeping me safe?"

"No," he sighed, folding his arms around his knees and turning away. "You're more use to me here that on an slab."

John nodded and returned to his chair in silence, leaving Ianto to his thoughts. He watched Ianto bury his face in his arms and shudder, and heard his muffled, "Where the fuck is he?"

"Who?" he called across the room.

"The Doctor," Ianto raised his head and tipped it back so that he could look at John side-on. "Apparently he's preparing a case for Jack's defense."

"That's good, isn't it?"

He shrugged. "Only if it works. There's something weird going on, I can feel it."

"There is at that," John agreed. "They shouldn't have arrested me, because I'm still working for them at this point in time. And they know how important Jack is to the time lines, so they shouldn't go anywhere near him at all. Someone high up should be keeping an eye on both of our time lines and making sure that we're not arrested or our time lines changed, but they're ignoring that at best. They know that they're causing a temporal ambiguity, which could result in a complete rearrangement of history, and yet they're doing it. They're manipulating things, but why?"

Ianto stared at him blankly. "Say that again?"

"Someone high up at the Time Agency is trying to change time by arresting Jack," John sighed. "I mean, legally they should arrest him, but temporally they shouldn't."

"So you're saying that he should get away with his crimes... because he already has?"

"Yes."

"Well if you'd put it like that," Ianto huffed and folded his arms around his knees again. "I don't want to believe that he did it though."

"It was a long time ago," he pointed out. "And Jack had his reasons."

"For murder?"

"Like it or not, Eye Candy, that's what Jack used to do for a living. We were assassins for the Time Agency, and then he went to Cardiff and started working for Torchwood, killing alien threats. Sure, he tried not to if he could help it, but he killed for a living."

Ianto looked across at him properly. "You mean that the murder charges are just people they didn't tell him to kill?"

"Or that they changed their minds about after the event, yeah," he shrugged. "I think that that was one of the reasons he went rogue."

"Because they changed their minds? I don't blame him," Ianto huffed. "Sounds like most management systems, really."

"Yeah, one would think that it had advanced since the twenty first century, but managers never really learned."

"That's because people don't change," Ianto pointed out. "Every manager still needs to learn it again."

The door was flung open and Ianto stood up quickly, the hope fading from his face when he saw that the Doctor was alone. "Did you get to see him?" he asked.

"I did," he confirmed, pulling his coat off and throwing it over the railings. "Come on, kitchen, both of you."

They followed him through and Ianto busied himself making a pot of coffee for them all. "What did you find out?"

The Doctor was watching his quick, nervous movements around the kitchen, and had to shake himself back to the subject. "Someone at the Time Agency is doing this on purpose. So we're in with a chance if the courts aren't under their control, but if they are, then Jack's sentence is already decided," he explained whilst Ianto brought the coffees to the table.

"So what can we do?" John asked, accepting a mug and leaning forwards.

"Well..." he leaned back and looked between them. "Our first stop is the court case. Argue for Jack's release based on the temporal stabilty requirements. Jack is an extremely important figure in history because of his fixedness, and the history of the twenty first century is in flux at the moment. It could go either way, and we need to argue that without him returning there, it will come down the wrong way."

"And if the court is already swung?"

"Then we use the TARDIS to break him out and go back into the Time Agency to find out who is after him, and untangle the mess," he said darkly. "Don't worry, we'll get him out."

"I trust you," Ianto told him. "How long have we got?"

"Ten tomorrow morning, twenty two hours," he nodded at Ianto. "We need to plan for worst and best case scenarios, get some sleep and eat."

"Worst case scenario?" Ianto asked.

"Jack goes to prison and we have to get him out," he thought out loud. "He'll be allowed to take one bag in with him, so we need to pack that for him."

"I'll do it," Ianto told him hurriedly. "There's a bag in my room that I can use."

"And best case scenario?" John asked.

"Jack gets cleared and has to return to Cardiff. He won't be able to leave, but he'll have a purpose and Ianto, so I don't think he'll want to," he looked up at Ianto and found him staring down at his hands. "Okay, John, I need your help in preparing our case. Ianto, you need to dress up tomorrow and act the part of the devoted partner and convince them that Jack has changed and that you need to return to Cardiff with him."

Ianto nodded and turned his mug around. "I'll need to know why Jack left Cardiff, then," he pointed out. "With an explanation that doesn't involve my death."

"Yes, well, I'll explain over breakfast. You should go and get a suit now, Ianto, before the wardrobe disappears."

"Oh, right, second wardrobe?"

"Yeah, down the corridor..."

"Left through the window, door behind the curtains and then down the long corridor, door is up the secret staircase in the fireplace in the library."

"Exactly," the Doctor smiled. "Go on, we'll get on with this case."

He nodded and stood up, left his mug on the table and headed down through the convoluted corridors to the wardrobe. A rack of suits by the door presented his best option, so he sorted through them absentmindedly, mind more focused on the following morning. Eventually, he chose a black pinstripe suit with a waistcoat, coupled with a red shirt (crimson-ish, if he was being honest. Definitely not pink... really) and a black tie. He'd wanted to go with white, because it was more formal, but it made him look even worse than he already did. He was pale and his eyes had dark shadows under them – he needed a shave as well. With a sigh, he picked up the suit he'd chosen and headed for the door, stopping short with a curse. "Oh shit."

The door was gone.

He swore again and hung his suit up carefully, controlling his movements as much as he could to keep his emotions under control. Twelve hours until he could get out. "Shit, shit, fuck," he announced as he slid down the wall where the door had been and dropped his head back against the wall. It hurt, but he barely noticed. "Why did we come here?" he whispered, wrapping his arms around his knees again and resting his cheek on one knee. "I wish I'd never met him, I wish I'd never met the Doctor. I wish I'd just stayed in Cardiff, not knowing about aliens, just living a normal life... Even I don't believe that," he sighed heavily and turned his head so that his forehead was resting against his knees. "How thick can I get, getting locked in here?" He sighed and stood up, moving the suit onto the coat stand next to the door so that he could find it. "There has to be another way out..."

He looked through all the wardrobes for false backs, peered through every rack of clothes from every direction, checked inside chests of clothes and boxes of shoes and eventually conceded, after two hours, that if there was another exit, he wasn't going to find it. Closing the chest of mothballs and rolled up ties, he sank down onto it and rubbed at his face again, brushing away his tears angrily. He had to be stronger than that – he had nineteen hours until Jack appeared in court, and he couldn't remember how long it would take for the door to reappear. It was either twelve hours or twenty four...

"You'd better let me out in time," he growled at the ceiling. "I'm going to be there, I have to be there."

The TARDIS didn't respond, but he got the feeling that she'd got the message. He slid off the chest and leaned back against it, resting his head back on the top of it and letting his tears flow. No one was going to see him, no one could rely on him, no one expected him to be strong and be there. He'd never felt more alone; he needed to be with Jack, needed to be doing something to help in some way, not just sitting around locked in a wardrobe because he hadn't got out in time.

Assuming that it was twelve hours, he had ten hours left in here. He checked his watch and confirmed that, then settled back down against the chest. "Fuck," he swore again and looked around for a blanket of some sorts, in the vain hope that he could get some sleep.

Two hours later found him pacing again - the thick fur coat he'd curled up on top of (because the floor had proved very uncomfortable) was draped over the chest. Another hour and he was sitting on the chest again, head in his hands and trying not to cry. After an hour spent thinking, he did three hours of trying again to find a way out of there. With three hours left before, he hoped, the TARDIS let him out, he made a pile of coats and pulled a thick cloak over himself, curling up as small as he could and hoping that sleep would make the time pass faster.

John paced up and down the corridor, checking at every turn to see if the door was there yet. As soon as it was he wrenched it open and burst into the room, slowing to a stop when he saw Ianto curled against the chest. He continued as quietly as he could and crouched down next to him, shaking his shoulder firmly enough to rouse him. "C'mon, Eye Candy," he muttered. "Door's open."

Ianto grunted and curled in on himself further. "Use my name."

John stood up and turned away. "Jack needs you, Ianto," he snapped. When he looked back around, Ianto was looking guilt stricken, and he sighed. "It's not your fault," he told him quietly. "There wasn't time for you to come in here anyway, the Doctor says."

"There was," Ianto disagreed quietly. "I should have been quicker to get out, I knew I didn't have long."

"And you had a lot on your mind," John told him, turning back to help him hanging the coats back up. "Did you sleep much?"

"A couple of hours," he shrugged. "I don't normally."

"I guess it must be hard sleeping without Jack, too?"

Ianto shook his head. "I've never slept with him."

"What?" he looked up, astonished. "But you two..."

"Us two what?" Ianto asked sourly. "I'm the physical copy of the man he loved, and he's a hard man to resist. He's held me at arms' length since I met him, really – well, not tried for anything more than friendship – and I still fell in love with him. He didn't think I was interested though."

"Regretting it?"

"Who wouldn't?" he asked bitterly. "I have all the time in the world, and yet it always slips away."

"You'll get him back," John told him confidently. "We'll get him back. Now come on, we've a lot to do still before the hearing."

"Yeah," Ianto went first to his room, to get the bag of things he'd bought that day and to collect the bag he was going to use to take stuff for Jack, then took both round to Jack's room. The Doctor was in there making a pile of things on the bed, and Ianto stopped short in the doorway. "Heya."

"Ianto, good, you got out of there," he greeted him. "Is there anything else you think Jack would want or need?"

Ianto looked through the pile and set his bags down on the bed next to them. "Yeah, his coat."

"He'll be indoors though," the Doctor pointed out. "He's not going to need it."

"Yes he is," John and Ianto told him in unison. Ianto smiled briefly as he scrambled across the bed to get Jack's big, heavy coat out of the wardrobe, then folded it carefully and put it in the bottom of the bag. The Doctor and John watched as he packed it methodically with clothes, wash stuff, notebook and pens, a few books, the box of sweets that Ianto had bought for him in the market and, finally, the box containing the toy kitten. He glanced up at the Doctor, waiting for his nod of approval before he zipped it up.

"He probably won't need it, right?" he asked quietly.

Ianto sat in the waiting room in a state of shock, not really comprehending what had happened. People came and went and talked to him and John, but John fielded there questions and dealt with instructions, letting Ianto process what had happened, whilst the Doctor went back to the TARDIS to get Jack's bag. As far as Ianto could tell, Jack's sentence had been decided before he'd even stepped into the room, probably before they caught him, even.

The Doctor arrived quietly and set the bag down next to Ianto, then sat down in a chair across from him. Ianto nodded a greeting at him, then opened the bag and pulled out one of the notebooks and a pen, opening it on his knee to start writing. "Ianto," the Doctor warned him. "You can't send messages."

"Well..." he said determinedly. "I hope they don't find it then," he kept going and nearly filled a page, then closed the notebook and put it back in the bag with the pen.

"What did you say?" the Doctor asked.

"What do you think?" he asked, rolling his eyes. "The usual."

"Ah, I see."

"And that we'd get him out," he conceded. "Mostly the 'I love you and I believe in you' crap, though."

"That's not crap, Ianto," the Doctor chided him.

"No? It feels it," he zipped the bag back up and stood. "How long did they say?"

"Should be any time now," John told him. "You've been practically catonic for nearly an hour."

"I'm sorry," he wheeled around completely unapoliogetic. "Jack's about to go to prison because I left him behind in the TARDIS..."

"It's not your fault," John interrupted him sharply. "It's mine and we know it, but they would have got him in the end," he sighed. "It was just a matter of how and how soon."

Ianto glared at him, but shook his head and turned away. "Whatever."

The atmosphere became tense, and the door opening was like a breath of cold, fresh air. The Doctor sprang to his feet and greeted the sergeant without any of his usual cheeriness. "Can we see him?" he asked sharply.

"I'm sorry," he stuttered in the face of the Doctor's glare. "Only Mr. Jones can see him, Harkness is a next-of-kin-only prisoner, sir."

The Doctor tensed up, then relaxed carefully and turned to Ianto, picking the bag up and pressing it into his hand. "You're on your own, Ianto."

He nodded and tightened his grip on it. "I know, I understand."

Jack was already waiting in the tiny room down the corridor, accompanied by two armed guards. Ianto set the bag on the table as one of the guards indicated, then ignored them both completely, dragging his chair around next to Jack's and sitting down, taking Jack's hand in both of his and playing with his fingers. Jack closed his hand and caught Ianto's in it. "I'm going to miss you," he whispered softly.

Ianto closed his eyes and shook his head, then wrapped one arm around Jack's neck and pulled him in to hug him, pressing a kiss against his neck. "I'll miss you too," he told him. "I already do."

Jack reciprocated the hug and leaned into him. "You should get away, Ianto. John and the Doctor will look after you. Just, promise me you'll be okay?"

Ianto shook his head against Jack's neck and held him even tighter. "How could I be, knowing that you're in here and I'm out there?" he kissed Jack's neck once more, then pulled back and found his lips. "Did you mean it, Jack? Really?"

Jack nodded and kissed him again. "Yeah, I still do."

"I'll wait for you," he promised. "As long as it takes. I'll come back for you."

"You can't," Jack gripped his hands and stared at them, rather than meeting his eyes. "You know you can't."

"I can try, though," he insisted. "And I will."

"Thank you," Jack smiled and kissed him again, soft and wet with tears.

Ianto didn't speak again until then got back tot he TARDIS. Only then did he look up and meet the Doctor's eyes across the room. "Tell me there's something we can do, Doctor?"

His gaze darkened and he flicked a lever. "John, have you got those details."

"Yep, got them here," John gave him a printed sheet. "Paperwork never went out of fashion."

"Good for us," the Doctor pulled a computer screen over and started programing figured into it. "Ianto, get to that side of the console and keep the readings level, show John how to watch the alarms."

"We're getting him out?" John asked in shock. "Just like that?"

"Just like that," the Doctor agreed grimly. "And then we are shutting down whatever branch of the Time Agency did this – someone is playing with time and I don't like it."

Ianto smiled tightly and felt the light of hope flare somewhere in his chest. "What do you want from us, Doctor?"

"Hold on," he instructed as the ship swayed violently. "This is precision work."

They lurched once more and an alarm on the console rang loudly. The Doctor grinned and ran to the door. "Ianto, we've been spotted. Go in and get him, fast."

"What?" but he was already running, wrenching the door open and stumbling out into Jack's arms.

Jack stared at him like he'd seen a ghost, then crushed him close and kissed him, tears running down his face like they had been the last time Ianto had seen him. With any luck, they were the same tears. "You came," he gasped between kisses. "You did it, you came!"

"Yeah, we did," Ianto told him, squeezing him tightly. "Come on, we have to go, we've already tripped the alarms."

Jack nodded, apparently reluctant to let him go, but broke away at last. "There's just a couple of things I want," he told him, running across the room and giving Ianto a moment to look aruond. It was much like their rooms on the TARDIS, but more spartan and with a food dispenser in the wall. Jack collected his coat from the bed, the notebook and books from the bedside table and the kitten from the middle of the bed. "I'm ready," he said at last.

Ianto stopped to wonder how long it had taken them, but Jack seemed sane, and pleased to see them – to see him – so he pushed the thought away. "Then let's get you out of here."

The Doctor was grinning maniacally when they got back into the console room, and the doors slammed shut behind them. "Good to have you back with us, Jack. Gentlemen, may I point out that we're on the run?"

Ianto clung onto Jack and a pillar as the ship launched itself into the void and turned his face into Jack's shoulder to hide his tears. "So fucking worth it," he muttered tightly.

Over his head, Jack met the Doctor's eyes and nodded sadly, holding Ianto against him as they both cried. It had been half an hour for Ianto – the time lock had made it six and a half years for Jack. Ianto could never know.