Author's Notes - Sometimes being the one who waits is just as stressful as being in harm's way, as you're about to see. Thanks to dwatlaskrhtcm and Kassandra J for reviewing the last chapter.

Melissa hovered near Martha's still form because she didn't know what else to do. If she thought about Jack or the Doctor too much, she knew she was going to lose what little emotional control she had left. Donna suggested she sit, but she shook her head emphatically and started to pace. When Mickey returned, he assured her that Jack was going to be fine, but it was difficult to believe him when his t-shirt was covered in blood.

Donna again tried to lead her away, but her clothes looked like they had been splashed with red paint, and something finally snapped. Wringing her hands, Melissa started to pace and mutter to herself.

Before she could fully work herself into a hysterical state, Ianto came up behind her and gently tapped her on the shoulder. Twirling around, she saw that he was dressed in an immaculately clean suit. Strangely comforted by that fact, she let him lead her to Jack's office where a tray of biscuits and a steaming cup of tea were waiting for her.

She sat in the recliner without a thought, mechanically eating the shortbread and chocolate wafers as Ianto handed them to her.

"Better?" He handed her the cup of tea.

Her hands shook, but she took a sip without spilling. "A little. Thank you, Ianto."

He gave her a tight-lipped smile. "There are certain advantages to being the tea boy." After a pause, he said quietly, "Jack's going to be fine. The blood made it look worse than it is. He'll need a new coat."

"He'll hate that."

"Don't worry; his tailor has several on standby. It's not the first time it's been replaced."

Sipping her tea, she did her best to calm down, but when Drocina walked in without knocking, she almost spilled the hot liquid in her haste to stand up. "Is he okay? Can I see him? Is he conscious? The bullet hit his left arm? I can recalibrate the tissue regenerator, you know. I did it once before, but his shoulder had been hit that time. It wasn't his shoulder, was it?"

"Emissary, slow down. Take a few deep breaths. Captain Harkness is going to be fine. He's unconscious due to blood loss more than trauma. He's getting plasma right now. He'll need some whole blood as well, but we have O positive stored."

"Can I see him?"

"As long as you promise to rest afterwards, I'll take you to see him."

"Fine, I promise. Just let me see him."

She walked to the medical bay in a haze, hardly aware of the people around her. Reaching Jack, she patted his uninjured arm. He was already becoming aware of his surroundings, and when he looked up at her, a pained smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"Hey."

"Hey, yourself. See what happens when you don't have me to watch your back?"

His smile widened, and then he winced as the pain spiked. "I'm glad you weren't, not after they found that gun. Did the Doc get it?"

"I don't know. He and that idiot Hart aren't back."

Briefly, Jack closed his eyes, biting back a groan. "I really hoped I'd hallucinated that part. Do you know why he's here?"

Shaking her head, she played with his hair. Silent tears rolled down her face, although she tried to tell herself that she was being ridiculous. Jack had been through much worse and survived. That thought wasn't giving her comfort at the moment, however.

"Hey, it's okay, Sweetheart. Everything's going to be fine. The Doc and I promised, remember?"

Her bottom lip quivering, she nodded, but the tears wouldn't stop. It upset him more than his injury, but there was little he could do but reassure her as he lay on the table.

As her tears continued, they both heard the commotion caused by the Doctor and Hart's return. Knowing that the Doctor was out of harm's way and relatively unscathed opened the floodgates. She found herself leaning against the table, her breaths coming in huge gasping sobs.

Instinctively, Jack tried to sit up to comfort her, but he immediately found that to be a bad idea. Black spots danced before his eyes, but he found he still had his voice. "Doc! Drocina! One of you guys needs to get in here, now!"

His shouts brought the Doctor, Donna, Ianto and John Hart to him at a run. Hart watched the unfolding scene with undisguised interest as Ianto and Donna lingered in the background, unsure of how to assist.

As he wrapped his arms reassuringly around Melissa, the Doctor quietly spoke to Jack. "Drocina's with Martha at the moment. Mickey thought she was having trouble breathing. She'll be here when she can."

Melissa trembled against him, now crying silently. He soothed her as best he could, stroking her hair and murmuring encouragingly in her ear. Finally, she appeared to calm down.

"It's alright, Em. I'm fine, not a scratch on me, and Jack's going to be fine just as soon as we get some blood in him, right, Captain?"

"Right," he answered in a fair imitation of jauntiness. "In fact, I'll be perfect once we get rid of John. No offense, but I really don't have time for whatever you're selling."

Walking forward, the disgraced Time Agent tried his best to ooze charm. "I'm wounded, Jack. I'm not selling anything."

Ianto snorted loudly enough that Hart turned to face him. "Eye Candy! Still looking good in a suit. Since Jack's obviously dumped you too, care to join me? I taught him everything he knows. Might be fun—you, me, a couple of hypervodkas."

"Not even after a dozen."

Pouting, John returned his attention to his former partner. "God, you spoil your pets." After receiving several icy glares, he put out his hands. "Okay, okay. Jesus, you people have no sense of humor."

Shrugging, he finally got to the point. "I just came to give you some friendly advice. You know how I said a while back that there were just seven of us now? I might have exaggerated a little."

"How little?"

"Oh, you know, the whole the Time Agency doesn't exist anymore part. And, uh, they might know where you are."

A pin could have dropped at that point, and the sound would have echoed. The Doctor was the first to react.

"What? WHAT? Let me guess who gave them the information."

Backing prudently away, Hart hotly defended himself. "It wasn't my fault! They drugged me!"

Jack stared upwards, counting to a hundred. The Time Agency wasn't even on his list of concerns at the moment. "Get out."

Whatever reaction Hart had expected, it hadn't been that one. He looked genuinely confused. "Huh? You still woozy from the blood loss, Jack? I just told you the Time Agency is after you. You need me."

"Clearly, I don't. Now, get out before I order someone to shoot you. And the next time you get picked up by the Agency, you can tell them I'd like to see them try."

"You really play hard to get, don't you? Okay, I'm going do something out of character here and tell you the truth. They don't know where you are, yet. But they are looking for me. I thought I could work here while we decide what to do."

Jack almost retorted that there was no 'we', but he knew arguing would only prolong Hart's stay. No, his former partner required a more direct approach. "Ianto, still got that stopwatch of yours?"

"Always."

"Good, if he's not gone in sixty seconds, shoot him."

Unruffled by the request, the Welshman pulled out his stopwatch and an automatic pistol.

"Shit! You are all bat shit crazy!" Whining a little, he tried to get Jack to hire him until Ianto calmly informed him that he had ten seconds. Assuring them all that they would regret their decision, he disappeared from the Hub.

Sniffling in the Doctor's arms, Melissa wondered out loud. "Do you think either one of those stories was true?"

"Don't know and don't care," Jack answered flippantly. "I want to know if you got that gun, Doc."

The Doctor went completely still, his pent up fury exploding so forcefully inside him that Melissa shrank away. Belatedly, he attempted to calm down, but it was difficult. His tone was scathing when he finally replied.

"Oh, I retrieved the weapon, not that it matters. There's no way to know if they have more of the poison stored elsewhere. And, as Drocina and I discovered when we analyzed it, the fourth ingredient precludes the possibility of an antidote. In fact, the other three ingredients are purely window dressing."

"So what is it already?" Jack asked crossly.

"It's digilitum."

"But, that's impossible." Melissa truly hoped he was mistaken. The ramifications if he were right were far too great to contemplate.

Jack shared her dismay. "Oh. Shit." He couldn't help but think that maybe he should have kept John around for a little while longer. "Why isn't Martha dead?"

"The digilitum has been genetically modified to target triple-stranded DNA."

Standing in the shadows, Ianto felt like he was the odd man out. "Sorry, but can someone explain what digilitum actually is?"

As troubled as the rest, Donna answered somberly for the group. "It's a poison that stops the heart almost instantly, and there's no antidote. More importantly, it isn't invented until the fifty-first century."

"Ah. So, the Time Agency is after Time Lords?"

About to give his opinion, the Doctor became aware of the fact that Melissa had begun to tremble again, her eyes glassy and vacant. "Donna, get Drocina. Now."

As Donna raced up the stairs, the Doctor desperately tried to assure Melissa that everything would be fine. It was difficult convincing himself, however, especially when her eyes rolled to the back of her head and her knees buckled.

"Ianto, a little help here!"

As Jack helplessly looked on, the Doctor eased their wife to the ground with Ianto's assistance. Sitting next to her, he felt her neck. Her skin was clammy and her hearts were racing. Sparing an agonized look towards Jack, he ordered the archivist to find out what was taking so long.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Taking the stairs to the medical bay two at a time, Drocina took one look at her patient and pulled out the scanner. Confirming her suspicions, she briskly found the necessary supplies to start the pregnant Time Lord on an IV of Dextrose. Standing up, she handed the bag of glucose to the Doctor to temporarily hold.

"Her glucose levels dropped precipitously, but she shouldn't suffer any lasting effects. Keep holding that, Doctor, until I can get her off the floor." Looking around, she frowned. "We should have thought to put one of those recliners in here. I'll be right back. Ianto, she's going to need some type of soft drink, not diet. Donna, pick up some take away, something with a high carbohydrate and fat content, pastry, pizza, whatever's closest, and get enough for the rest of us."

Holding the IV bag aloft as everyone scurried to follow the healer's orders, the Doctor wondered how a bad day had turned even worse so quickly. "I didn't have any warning," the Time Lord confessed. "Did you?"

Lying flat on his back, Jack could hear the self-recrimination in the confession and wished he could reach out to comfort his bond mate. The best he could do was to attempt to convince him that he wasn't to blame. "No, at first, I thought she was hysterical. She seemed to pull herself together okay, but then I guess it just happened too fast."

There was no reply, and they both sank into a depressed silence.

It seemed to take forever for Drocina to return. In reality, the young woman and Mickey appeared merely a few minutes later, lugging the recliner from the archives down the short flight of stairs. Affixing the IV bag to a pole, Drocina ordered the Doctor and Mickey to place the chair near where Jack lay. Then, the three of them carefully lifted her into it. Reclined, it made a decent substitute for a bed.

"Let me know when she wakes. I've got to get back to Martha. The anesthetics were very powerful." With that, she and Mickey raced back up the stairs.

Left alone again, the Doctor and Jack waited apprehensively for Melissa to regain consciousness. Ianto returned at some point with a tray of various drinks, from Fanta to ginger ale to Coke to freshly made lemonade. Placing it on an unused table, he left quietly, not wanting to intrude.

When she did wake, she was disoriented and confused. "Doc?"

Crouching beside the chair, he tenderly pushed a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. "How are you feeling, Em?"

"I don't—" Glancing around, her lips pursed into a puzzled frown. "How did I. . . ? Jack?"

"I'm here, Sweetheart. You fainted. You're going to be fine."

Craning her neck, she was alarmed to find him lying on the table. "You're hurt? I . . . What's going on?"

"Here, Emma, drink this." Carefully sitting her up, he put one of the straws Ianto had thoughtfully provided into a bottle of Fanta. As she absentmindedly sipped the orange soda, he tried to explain what had happened, speaking slowly and distinctly, not sure how much she could yet understand.

"Your glucose levels are too low. You lost consciousness, but you're going to be fine. It's normal to be a little confused."

It was a testament to her mental state that she didn't think to inquire about health of the fetuses, or ask what had happened to Jack. "My brain feels all mushy," she remarked dazedly, still processing what the Doctor had told her.

Both men blanched at her turn of phrase. Ignoring the narrowing of his vision, Jack pushed himself up with his good arm. When she noticed his injury, she didn't understand. "Did Gray do that, Jack?"

The Captain had to force himself to speak, his throat choked with unabashed terror. "Gray?"

Mistaking the cause of his upset, she remorsefully confessed, "I couldn't feel you. I wanted to help, but I couldn't. My head's so mushy."

Swiftly returning the Fanta to the table, the Doctor had his arms supporting Jack before he could fall over. "Easy, there, Captain. Lie down and don't jump to conclusions. I'll get Drocina."

Once he had made sure Jack was comfortable, he spoke gently to Melissa. "I'm going to get someone who can help you. Can you stay here and make sure Jack rests?"

She appeared befuddled again, and he steeled himself for wherever her confusion would take her next, but it seemed the treatment was starting to have some effect. "Doc? I feel really tired. Where's Owen?"

Or, perhaps not.

"Owen's not here right now, Em, but I'm going to find someone who can help you and Jack. Just stay here and I'll be right back."

"Owen's dead," she said flatly. "And, Jack, Jack was shot? Everything seems kinda foggy."

"Your glucose levels dropped too low. You lost consciousness for a while, and it's normal to be confused. Rest while I get Drocina."

When she didn't protest, he sprinted upstairs, finding the healer tending to Martha. Waiting only somewhat impatiently, he was grateful to see that his former companion was breathing easily. From analyzing her blood, he knew she would be unconscious for several hours; the combination of the anesthetics had been quite potent.

Finished for the time being, Drocina looked up to acknowledge the Doctor. "She's awake?"

"Yes, but she's still very confused. I'd like you to make sure nothing else is wrong."

Returning, they found Melissa only partially aware. With a frown, Drocina soon discovered why her patient wasn't recovering as quickly as she had anticipated. Quietly, she informed the Doctor.

"The glucose is being funneled to the fetuses first, rather than to her organs. It will take some time for her mind to clear, but it will. Reassure her if she becomes distressed."

The Doctor let out a breath in pure relief. Reassurance was something he was very good at. Thanking the healer, he mentioned, "I think you might need to look at Jack. He would have collapsed if I hadn't caught him."

"Captain Harkness is under strict orders to lie down."

"Yeah, well, I'm sure you've noticed by now that Jack doesn't always follow orders."

Biting back a sarcastic comment, Drocina checked to make sure the Captain had not ripped his sutures. Starting him on a bag of whole blood, she gave the half conscious man a stern lecture about listening to his physician before excusing herself.

The Doctor watched her leave and then turned his attention to Melissa. Studying him, she apprehensively rubbed her stomach. "You aren't angry, are you, Beloved? You were dead, and I was so alone. Don't hate me like Susan. Please."

Kneeling beside her, he reassuringly stroked her cheek, wishing not for the first time that he could have somehow protected her from so much tragedy. "Susan doesn't hate you. Of course she doesn't. She's just scared right now. No one's angry. Everything will be fine; you'll see."

"I'm having a girl." Smiling timidly, she took his hand to rest it on her huge belly.

Reaching out, the Doctor touched the consciousness of their daughter. There was nothing wrong with her glucose levels. She was happily putting her foot in her mouth. He could only hope their son was just as content.

"A beautiful girl, Emma, just like her mother."

"Jack's so excited."

"With good reason," he devotedly assured her, hoping that she wouldn't take this particular memory too far.

For a while, she passively held his hand. Eventually, she became more alert, blinking her eyes and rubbing her face. Groggily, she asked, "What happened?"

"You fainted," he simplified, not quite sure if she was totally coherent. "But you're going to be fine.

"I don't remember." Glancing past him, she questioned him anxiously. "Is Jack going to be okay?"

"He's just tired. He lost a lot of blood."

For a moment, it appeared that she was zoning out yet again, but a soft smile briefly transformed her face into a thing of beauty. "Oh, she's so clever. She's found her toes."

He couldn't help but grin. She was firmly in the present. "Yes, nothing wrong with her glucose levels."

"Is that what happened to me?" Belatedly, she noticed the IV, and her smile crumpled.

"You gave everyone quite a scare, Emma. But, you're going to be fine." Bending down, he pressed a kiss on her forehead. "I think the Captain would say something like, you should rest, Sleeping Beauty."

"I can't remember much past hearing that Jack had been shot. Everything else is hazy. You're sure he's going to be okay?"

"I'm certain."

"And Hart?"

"Gone."

"Do I want to know?"

"Jack sent him away, and the rest can wait for later. You should try to sleep, conserve your energy."

"I am tired."

He stroked her cheek until her breathing became slow and even. Standing up, he caught the Captain watching him. "How long have you been awake?"

"Long enough. I didn't want to upset her by calling out. She is going to be okay, isn't she?"

"Yes, she is. How are you feeling, Jack?"

"Don't ask," he answered ruefully. "Being mortal sucks."

Abruptly, the Time Lord leaned over and kissed him fiercely. "There are certain advantages, wouldn't you say?"

"Hell, yeah, Doc. I just hope I don't have to get injured for you to do that again."

A smirk tugged the corners of his mouth. He'd been terrified when he'd realized Jack had been injured, but for once, Torchwood had been lucky. "Now, now, Captain. I thought you agreed to celibacy for the duration of Emma's pregnancy."

"Kissing doesn't count, Doc. It's like breathing."

"To you maybe," he replied archly. Then, he repeated the kiss until Jack was breathless.

Pulling back a few inches, his demeanor flipped, and he self-consciously patted Jack's uninjured arm. "I'd prefer you didn't do that again."

"What? Kiss you? I think it was the other way around, actually."

"That's not what I meant, and you know it." He answered with a hint of annoyance. "Don't use yourself as a human shield. Donna said you were shot because you pushed her out of the way."

"And you think I should have let Donna get shot?" He couldn't believe he was being lectured for saving a friend.

"Of course not! I . . . I really didn't think that one through, did I?"

"No, but none of us are at our best. I still can't get my head around that fourth ingredient. How many groups are sophisticated enough to get their hands on genetically altered digilitum?"

It was a distraction tactic, and it worked. He did not want to continue the other topic of conversation. He had a sneaking suspicion that he would have to tell the Doctor off about being overprotective, and he didn't have the stomach or, frankly, the energy to do that quite yet.

"Almost every species with time travel technology would have the knowledge required to tailor the poison to fit their needs. The real question becomes who has motive?"

"Do you think the Agency is really after me?"

"If they were, why use a poison specific to Time Lords?"

"Maybe they've heard I'm immortal. Wanted to get to me through the people I love?"

His simple declaration made the Doctor's hearts thud loudly in his chest. Why was it so difficult for him to say those words? Emma and Jack had no problem saying them to him.

Pushing that aside for the moment, he shook his head. "I don't think so, Jack. If they wanted to punish you, it would be easier to simply blow up the Hub with everyone in it.

He winced. "Thanks for that image, Doc. As if my usual nightmares aren't bad enough. So, it's not the Time Agency."

"I didn't say that, did I? I said they weren't targeting you. I can think of several reasons why they might target Time Lords."

"Their official policy is that Time Lords are myths. But, it would be like them to manipulate Earth First into doing their dirty work. Plausible deniability is their middle name."

"Let's not jump to conclusions. It's a popular CIA tactic as well."

He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Hey, as much as I don't like your brother, he does seem devoted to you and Melissa. You aren't actually accusing him of engineering this, are you?"

"If he had a good enough reason, my brother would do just about anything. But, no, I'm not accusing Brax, at least not yet. There are simply too many suspects at this point. It could also be any of a number of species whose planets were wiped out in the Time War out to take revenge. There's even a chance that UNIT had this in their black archives. They secured the Valiant while you and I were preoccupied with other things. The Master always did like to play around in the lab."

He didn't believe the last scenario for an instant. "Please, like the Master was ever going to kill you."

The sneer he received as a reply was full of raw contempt. The Captain's breath hitched, thinking he had finally crossed an irrevocable line. "Look, Doctor, I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything by it. You told me yourself that he wouldn't kill you."

Instantly, the Time Lord's expression changed to one of profound mortification. "Jack, those days on the Valiant were some of the most painful days of my life. Everything he did was a sick ploy to gain my attention. Every time he had one of the guards brutalize you, every time he had you whipped, every time he killed you, it was my fault, all of it. I was so selfish. I should have insisted you leave with Martha. It would have been safer for both of you. But, I didn't think I was strong enough to stand up to him without you."

Belatedly, he understood. The contempt hadn't been meant for him, it was focused entirely inward. "Doc, you don't have to explain. It's over."

"It might be over, but I think I've owed you an explanation for a long time."

"You really don't." Surprisingly, he knew he was speaking the truth. "I love you. The worst thing about that year was knowing how much he was hurting you. It's over. We have so much to look forward to. Don't let his memory tarnish any of that."

He was completely stunned. "I don't know what to say."

A decidedly cranky voice rose from behind him. "You'd better say you love him, Doc, or you're going to be sleeping in the back garden."

"I love you."

He had turned towards Melissa at the sound of her voice, and the words spilled from his mouth so quickly that he wasn't even facing Jack when he said them. Knowing that he hadn't done it quite right, he ruefully rubbed the back of his neck as he faced the man he loved.

"You do know that, don't you? I mean, I might not be the best at expressing my feelings. You can ask Donna about that if you don't believe me. I love you, Captain. I have for a long time. I just, didn't think it could be like this—not to imply that this isn't good, not at all. This is amazing. It's just certain aspects of this were, um, uncomfortable, for me. Not that the actual act was uncomfortable, far from it, but, uh—what I mean is, it's nice to be proven wrong. Brilliant, even. I mean surprises are good, don't you—"

Breaking into a genuine grin for the first time that day, Jack stopped the Time Lord before he could ramble his foot into his mouth. "Doc."

"Yes, Captain?"

"I love you too. Now, can you help me up? I think the three of us would be much more comfortable in the TARDIS, don't you?"

"Most likely, but the TARDIS is currently at the house."

"Isn't that precisely what Emergency Program Four is for?"

Looking somewhat sheepish, he clarified, "Actually, there has to be someone inside the TARDIS to activate that particular program."

"Doc."

"Yes, Captain?"

"That's a stupid program."

"Yes, it is," Melissa agreed tiredly. "Since Jack and I seem stuck here for a while, do you mind holding our hands? I'm getting a crick in my neck trying to see him."

As soon as he complied, the three of them were transported to the valley of Mt. Endeavor. Running through the red grass, a very pregnant Melissa threw herself at both of them, squeezing them in a ferocious, possessive hug.

"Everything's going to be alright," the Doctor said, as much to himself as to his bond mates.

Pulling back, she answered dispiritedly. "You're just hoping you're right, Doc. You can't promise that."

Rejecting her premise, Jack scooped her up and spun her around, enjoying the freedom their mental landscape afforded. "Hope's a good thing, Sweetheart, remember? Earth First is crippled; the gun's in our custody; I've been patched up; and Drocina's going to make sure nothing happens to you or the children."

When he put her down, her smile was fleeting. "I'm just so tired. And I was so scared for both of you."

The Doctor knew of only one thing that might make it better. Standing calmly before her, he dropped his last defenses, inviting her and Jack to do the same. As soon as they joined, there was a crescendo of fear and apprehension and worry, but they acknowledged those emotions without letting them become all consuming. Gradually, a sense of peace suffused the three, growing into a profound joy as they touched the mind of their daughter, who replied with simple delight. Reluctantly, they finally separated, the Doctor pouring as much strength as he could into both Jack and Melissa before they were once again alone with their own thoughts.

Melissa had already relaxed into a deep slumber, Jack nearly so. Releasing their hands, the Doctor momentarily braced himself on the table's edge. He was suddenly exhausted, but it came with a feeling of satisfaction that he wouldn't have traded for the world. At least for now, he knew everything was truly alright. Quietly, he sat between the two people he loved, guarding their sleep.