A/N: Another bumper chapter for you guys, I'm mega busy with school and art so make it last. If there are any questions about the fic thus far, don't hesitate to ask - a lot is happening at once. Song for this one is 'This Addiction' by Alkaline Trio, because it's beautiful. Enjoy. :)

It was more than they'd ever expected. Even having all hands on deck, it looked like too much.

The hulking creature had its back to them, its hide glistening metallically in the low evening light. It looked like it was made of white granite, as judging by the deep grooves worn into the earth and the smashed trees around them, it was heavy enough to be so.

Jack was whispering frantically into their comms, a whisper of moth's wings in their ears – "Protect Gwen, at all times. No Gwen, you will not be going anywhere near that thing. Stay at the SUV, give us supplies. No arguments." – but all Ianto was aware of was the thudding of his own blood gushing around his body.

In a sick way, he was reveling in the challenge, the idea that finally, here was something he could dismantle; here was something he could destroy with no guilt.

The 25 joints of the creature were clear, Jack had spotted them after a while of staring in dumb horror – already he was analyzing how to separate them. So this was what those Rift spikes had been; they were parts of this creature, being dropped off one by one.

It still had a vaguely scorched look to it, come to think of it.

"Okay team," the subtly panicked tone in Jack's voice brought him back, "On three, just how I said. One…two…three…"

Ianto was running by three, knowing nothing but the solid feel of the mallet in his hands and the freedom of running as fast as he could.

"He took the hit very hard," Daria said, shaking her head and opening her hands, "I've done all I can. He's sedated at the moment for his own safety. All we can do now is wait."

A sigh. He lay despondently, waiting the injury out.

Ianto was magnificent, and terrifying.

He leapt all over the thing, catlike, so very alien he didn't know quite how to handle it. After a while he realized what he was doing; lingering just long enough in one place for the creature to smash its own limbs against its joints, drawing an unearthly scream from its mouth.

He ran as quickly as he could to what he believed was a knee, and held the chisel to it, striking it as hard as he could with the mallet. Chips flew everywhere, the shock of the blow being absorbed by his thick gloves, but still no breakages.

Jack heard the squeal of brakes and dared to dart a glance over in the newly arrived car's direction. It was a battered old black van, and from it ran Learner and the pregnant Cath, her skin a deep blue like Learner's and shining. Other than her stomach, she looked all-Umbreyta; tiny spikes were even sprouting from her calves, arms and back, through holes awkwardly cut into her top.

Now there were three superheroes darting all over the creature, and then the first joint broke.

He glanced a hand over his fallen colleague's cheek, hissing sympathetically at the high temperature he was running. He was a hero; he only hoped he wouldn't die like one.

Decorum est pro patria mori, after all.

Limbs thudded to the ground, turning from their startling, glowing white to a dull grey. Yelping in shock, Charlton started to drag one across the ground, pulling it towards the SUV.

Unfortunately, the creature, having lost so many limbs in so little time, turned, throwing off Cath and Ianto; luckily, Learner caught Cath mid-fall, setting her carefully back on her feet before they reassessed their approach.

Charlton wasn't so lucky. And neither was Gwen.

It spotted them, both struggling to isolate the limb in a heavy container, and suddenly the creature was moving faster than they'd ever seen it move, a wordless screech echoing from its mouth; a sound like nails on a chalkboard, and shredding metal.

Suddenly time started to slow down.

Gwen closed her eyes, tears falling from her lashes; and muttered prayer issued from her lips; Jack screamed her name, and Ianto stood, shell-shocked, a pillar of strength frozen in horror. The limb crept towards Gwen at a snail's pace, and all he could think was – I can't let her and her baby die.

Time still moved slowly as he ran, and pushed her out of the way. Then the hit came, and time sped by,

and there was only blood

and noise

and darkness.

He presumed he was still alive. Or at least, he hoped so; he desperately hoped that fleeting, cold touch of a hand on his cheek was not a trick of his own mind.

He could hear them, most of the time. It was very reassuring, as if they were trying to carry on normally. His favourite thing to listen to was Daria – her even breathing, the taps of her fingers against her keyboard, the scratch of her pen against paper on a clipboard.

There was something mechanical about her at this point that he liked, that kept his mind off of the vague, random moments of Ianto, lingering just at the edges of his consciousness, so very close and yet just out of reach.

"Charlton!" Jack screamed, and Daria turned see Charlton on the floor, hit by the creature.

Suddenly it was as if she was on autopilot; dropping her chisel and mallet, she ran at top speed to the SUV, dragging the first aid kit out from under the passenger seat, and ran to his side, analyzing the situation.

No broken neck, but he wasn't breathing. That would be a problem.

Quickly, she sealed what looked like a broken nose, and began the mouth to mouth, listening and watching for the rise and fall of his chest in between rescue breaths.

"Come on. Come on now. Charlton, stay with us."

Gwen was unwinding bandages frantically, trying to stem the bleeding of a large cut to his head. In some places she could see bone – while head wounds bled heavier than others, this one was particularly severe.

It was taking too long now to get him to breathe. She carried on, running short of breath, until she felt hands at her back, supporting her.

"Daria. Come on; let me do it for a while. Sort out his other injuries."

Silently, she let Ianto take over, and miraculously, after 5 sets of rescue breaths, Charlton spluttered once, and began to cough, groaning a little in pain as he came to semi-consciousness. Turning his head to the side, he spat, and Daria saw blood.

That would be another problem.

"Ianto, get me the stretcher," she said, but Ianto was staring quietly at Charlton, carding a hand through his sticky, reddened mass of curls comfortingly. She frowned, barking, "Ianto! Make a move! Now!"

Quickly, Ianto fetched the stretcher from the back of the SUV – she'd never been so thankful for requesting it, or grateful to Ianto for expanding the SUV to fit it, somehow – and together, they slid Charlton carefully onto it, wheeling him back into the back of the SUV.

"Jack! We've gotta get him back to the Hub, he'll bleed out if we don't go now!"

"Take Ianto and Gwen and get him back there! The Basement and I will handle this!"

Gwen got into the driver's seat, working, like her, on autopilot. She and Ianto clambered into the back of the SUV with Charlton, and they were off.

It was just her and him, working over Charlton. Their eyes met across him and she hated the look in Ianto's eyes – like he was losing something he'd only just found.

God. He wanted to gasp out, but feared it would reveal his nearing consciousness.

He didn't know why it was such a terrifying prospect, coming back to his life. Maybe it was the way Doctors kept appearing through his life, in his house. Maybe it was the alcohol and the way it made his blood seep out just that bit too much.

It was comfortable, in the darkness. Better than the pins-and-needles of tiptoeing around Ianto.

He watched them, covered in his own blood.

He'd been hit by the creature several times, had died once already and was probably nearing a second, but at least they had 10 of the 25 pieces of it isolated in crates just behind the Basement's SUV.

He hated to think how Charlton, drunk when they'd set off, had taken the hit. Alcohol tended to thin the blood somewhat; it might be more difficult to stop the bleeding. And blood loss, well…it wasn't fun. As Jack was finding out, the edges of his vision blurring.

Learner and Cath leapt around the creature gracefully – despite her pregnancy, Cath was still faster than the creature, which was all they needed. He marveled at the way the Officials could just dig their fingers into the creature's joints as if it was made of butter.

He'd seen the stone under Ianto's fingernails, and shivered at the thought.

He dragged another limb into a crate and slammed it shut, attempting to haul it along the floor to the SUV, but found that his knees gave way in a very strange and frightening way. It was always scary, dying. No matter how many times he went through it.

"Hey, guys? I'm gonna be out for a while. One of you is gonna have to do the hauling," he yelped, beginning to fall to the floor. This type of death was very familiar; the most significant death of his life was a slow fade, just like this, and so much had changed afterwards he was afraid to let himself go.

The darkness crept in, slightly. Bizarrely he felt tears prick at his eyes, and moved his hands feebly as if to cradle the memory of Ianto's body in his arms. Ianto's body, draining of life.

He knew he had to go, and that it would be for the best, but he still tried to linger.

"How long has it been since we left them?"

"3 hours. Well, getting on for 4 now."

"And he's been out for that long."

Ianto didn't say it like a question, so she just nodded a fraction and went back to sitting at Charlton's bedside quietly. To her surprise, Ianto slammed a fist down on the table. She tried to ignore the dent.

"Christ, Ianto, what?"

"Not like this. I've gotta go."

Before she could say anything to stop him, he'd sped out of the door, a fleeting ghost in the coldness of the autopsy bay. Shivering, she pulled on her thick jumper, and returned to reading to her fallen friend.

When Jack revived, it was over.

He gasped back to life, as per usual, but was surprised when warm hands pulled him back into a more relaxed position, into a comfortable lap and the softness of a familiar suit. Ianto carded his hands through Jack's hair, but he was too far back to Jack to see his face.

"…hey," Jack mumbled, addled from death's deep sleep, "…s'over?"

"Yeah," Ianto said distantly, "'S'over.'"

"Huh." A pause. "I always seem to miss your shining moments of glory."

The hands in his hair stopped for a moment, and then carried on, "I don't mind."

Suddenly, a flash of light caught Jack's eye, and he sat up, shocked to see a pile of white going up in flames. Ianto's hands, warm like the life flowing back through his body, pulled him back, calmly but firmly.

"What is that?"

"It's their way, Jack."

"What is that?"

"It's the creature."

There was no way that pile of white dust and splinters could have been the creature. No way that they could have taken it to pieces so quickly. Unless…

"How long was I out?"

"…twenty minutes."

His blood ran cold, and over the other side of the fire, Jack noticed Learner and Cath standing stoically, twin Umbreytas, watching the rubble burn down. Both were covered from head to foot in white dust.

"They've killed it, then."

"It's their way. They're not Torchwood."

"Ianto. Look at me."

Finally, he let him go, and Jack sat up, turning to look at Ianto, who had pulled himself into a more comfortable position, looping his arms around his legs. He was covered in white dust, no injuries but a small cut perpendicular to the one he'd gotten that horrible week his whole world had died.

"Oh, God."

The look on Ianto's face hurt, "Yeah."

And then Ianto got up, dusted himself off and walked away, leaving Jack to stare blankly at the blackened, smouldering remains of the creature, and wonder at what had happened to his team.

"Ianto! God, Ianto, you look horrible…" she paused, and he watched her reassess the circumstances, "It's done, then?"

He slid easily into his seat at Charlton's bedside, "Yeah. It's done." Staring down at his colleague, he sighed, "The Officials are disposing of it."

She noticed the smell of burning that clung to him, and decided not to press further. Yawning, she stretched, and said, "Ianto, I'm going to have to take a nap, just for a half hour. Could you watch him, please? He's taken an unusual amount of time to come out of the sedation…if he isn't awake after my nap, then…we'll have to figure out what to do. I'll be back in half an hour."

He nodded, and she sighed gratefully, retiring to the luxury of the new Torchwood sofa, asleep as soon as her head hit the cushions.

"What did you do to him?"

The pair looked at him immediately, and even without their pupils, Jack felt they were staring right at him. Learner started, "To Ianto? Harkness, you have the paperwork, you know –"

"– No. I didn't know about this part. The part where he can destroy a creature made of stone in twenty minutes. Explain that to me," he felt himself shake with anger, and tried to keep it under control. He failed, allowing his body to be wracked with shivers, "Explain how Ianto Jones, my archivist, the maker of the best goddamn coffee in the world, managed to demolish that thing in so short a time that my blood hasn't even dried yet."

Cath tilted her head curiously at him in a way that gave him the feeling of being looked through, "You don't understand yet, do you?"

He sighed, exasperated and angry, "Understand what?"

"How much Ianto loves this new life of his. The feeling's been with him since the beginning of his life, since Torchwood One and Canary Wharf. He loves the bloodiness of it, the chaos and destruction, and now he can act on it. You still don't understand why we chose him, do you?"

"The Rift told you to."

"No. We chose him because he was born for this life. He was ours as soon as he came into the world, long before you ever set eyes on him. He was never yours, not really. And now that he's stronger than you, you can't cope," Cath paused, trailing her finger around her belly button in a spiral meditatively, "You were never the hero, Jack. As soon as he came along, you were the damsel."

With that, Learner shepherded her away from him, away from the charred patch of earth where they'd burned the creature and loaded its remains into a container and shoved it in their SUV, saying simply, "We'd give you a lift back, but there's no room for you."

He watched their taillights fading into the distance, and sighed, starting the long trek back to home, Cath's words weighing heavily on his mind.

"God, I wish you would just wake up, you know."

Listening to Ianto was entertaining, in a way. As if he didn't know Charlton was listening intently.

Maybe I just need a push? he thought smugly.

Oh, yeah, you would say that.

Holy shit. Could Ianto hear him?

Yes. I can. What's keeping you, Charlton?

He paused for a moment, not wanting to give the Welshman a reply just yet.

…ah. I see.

Well, there was the part where Ianto would know either way. He felt pressure on his hands and realized Ianto had gathered them in his.

Thanks. I'm feeling rather cold in the body department, Charlton admitted sheepishly.

No problem. That's a good sign, really; the amount of alcohol in your blood, we thought you'd never stop bleeding.

Sorry about that. I like a drink, I suppose.

There was something that felt like a snort, before Ianto replied, Yeah, I guessed. Charlton, would you come back, please? You're getting near to what we call The Point of No Return.

We? Charlton inquired, imagining raising his eyebrow.

Well, me. I can feel the dark creeping into you. Feels like how I did when I died, to be honest, not enjoyable.

Charlton sighed quietly internally, flexing his fingers, Ianto, why do you want me to come back so badly? You've spent a lot of time avoiding me and some time kissing me. I'm finding it hard to distinguish what we're doing, here.

He felt Ianto sigh, too. He winced. Maybe it was too heavy a question, when he could die any moment.

Not any moment, Charlie. But sooner than I'd like. Truth be told, I'd like you back because you're the only person here who seems to understand me; you're also the person who knows least about me.

He laughed inwardly. He knew a great deal about Ianto from observation, really, and let it scroll through his mind for Ianto's benefit.

Ah, well. Point taken. I suppose you feel quite smug about all of that. There was a pause, and Charlton waited patiently. Okay, well, you understand me even with the whole revival thing added to the equation. I've been in love with a man who can't handle that for so long; maybe I want to know what it's like to be loved despite it.

That would do nicely. Finally, someone called me Charlie.

He drew in a breath in a quiet gasp, and noticed Ianto was still holding his hands in his. Opening his eyes, he stared up into a pair of pewter eyes, boring into his own with such determination that he smiled slightly, croaking, "Hello."

"Back with us, Charlie?"

He raised one of his hands in a shaky 'a-okay' symbol, remarking quietly, "Can't keep me down."

The look in Ianto's eyes was warm and sparkling. He was home.