A/N: Because Christmas is fast approaching, here's an early delivery of the next instalment of angst ...

Chapter 35

Owen smiled as he watched Jack help Ianto sit up on the sofa before assisting him across the office and down towards the bunker that he jokingly called a bedroom.

"What are you smiling at?"

"Me? Nothing…" Owen shook his head vigorously, seriously concerned that he'd become sentimental since dying. That was all he needed, he couldn't digest food, drink beer or fuck, but apparently he'd got soppier – and Tosh just sat there grinning at him. What the bloody hell was he meant to do?

"I wasn't smiling – it was a grimace. OK – I can confirm that the weevil that chewed on the two goons in the van is virus-free." He produced the print out of the analysis results with a flourish.

"That would mean that they were probably transporting it somewhere to be used."

"Yeah, but it couldn't have been the same place they took Ianto to. That's been cordoned off by the police." Owen shuddered, the buildings out in the wilds had reminded him of their encounter with rural cannibals.

"I've been wondering why they would have taken the weevil, and Ianto for that matter, to an isolated farmhouse?"

"They were collecting blood. Perhaps their labs are somewhere that doesn't have the facilities for holding patients? Maybe the weevils are too feisty for them to control?"

"Owen, could it be that after Jack shut down The Pharm, there was still some unfinished research – possibly the genetically engineered virus – that somebody wanted desperately to get completed, but, without the complex of buildings and facilities that they previously had access to, they had to improvise?" Tosh was voicing thoughts that had been plaguing her all day. There had to be an answer to this – something that made sense of it all. She hated badly constructed puzzles that defied logical analysis.

"You think that by destroying the main complex, we forced them to resort to extracting blood from infected weevils and hapless teaboys in remote locations. Then they had it transported back to a smaller lab for purification of the virus?"

"That would help to explain what we've got so far." Tosh nodded her head, pleased that Owen could see what she was getting at.

"Shit – and from what Jack said about PO Box addresses, that lab could well be on our fucking doorstep."

"And if they don't need to provide wards and medical facilities for patients, that means they could operate out of a far smaller establishment, somewhere much easier to conceal."

"Let's work on that later - for now, we need to see what results we've got from those trials we set up this morning. The sooner we find a way to get Ianto well again the better, for all of us."

Jack had stripped both himself and Ianto down to their underwear, and then helped Ianto into bed, not once losing some form of physical contact. It occurred to him that he communicated far better when he actually kept his mouth shut, so he endeavoured to do just that.

Once in bed, Ianto lay on his back, one arm flung over his eyes, not wanting Jack to see just how red they were. He gripped hold of the sheet with his other hand, hoping to control the shaking, screwing up the cool cotton into a clump that he could hold onto tightly.

"I hate feeling this bloody weak and pathetic. I'm a grown man for fuck's sake, not a child."

Although Jack's kindness was touching and his gentleness endearing, Ianto yearned for a fierce embrace that demanded to be met strength for strength.

"Hey there, I've been known to get weepy and emotional at times and no-one's ever questioned my masculinity."

"Oh come on… honestly, you can get away with it- you're all fire and passion and when you cry, even your fucking tears are charged with testosterone. But me? Solid, dependable Ianto, makes coffee, gets everything ready … no, I'm not allowed to get upset without being thought of as a blubbering wreck."

"Ianto – it's OK for you to express how bad you're feeling-" Jack gently stroked Ianto's chest, running his fingers through the soft hair, trying to soothe him.

"No it's not. That's the whole fucking point. I'm bloody useless right now – I managed to go through the print outs, make some notes, then I couldn't even cope with that any longer, my head was spinning and the words just became a blur. You need someone you can rely on, someone who can get out there in the field –"

"I need you fit and well again, yes! Although I will admit some of my reasons are purely selfish."

Jack leaned over him, moving the arm from his face and kissed him softly, slowly, with just a hint of why he wanted Ianto able bodied again. Ianto draped his arm around Jack's neck and pulled him closer, deepening the kiss, letting his lover know that he wasn't the only one who wished they could indulge in something a damn sight more physical. With a sigh he broke the kiss and moved onto his side to face Jack.

"I'm sorry for being such a self-pitying miserable sod. It's just that I feel trapped. You know I've hardly been outdoors since we went for a walk in the marshes –"

"You mean when we ended up having sex in a birdwatchers' hide." Jack couldn't suppress a wicked smile at that particular memory. That had definitely been a new place for them both. He uncurled Ianto's fingers from the knotted sheet and grasped his hand, pleased to note that Ianto had relaxed a little.

"Oh God yes ..." Ianto sighed and shook his head wearily. "I need to get some fresh air, I haven't seen daylight or felt the wind and rain on my face for days and I might not –"

"Hold that thought – you will get outside again, I swear to you that I will take you out in the damn rain and wind, and you won't moan about the cold." Jack held onto Ianto's shoulders firmly, desperate for this to be a pledge he could fulfil.

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Jack."

"I promise you this, Ianto – whether Owen finds a cure or not, I shall take you outside again."

"Thank you." Ianto's eyes closed as he understood what Jack was saying and he was grateful.

"Come on now, you're exhausted. You should sleep." Jack was aware of the fact that Ianto was forcing himself to stay awake talking, that he was almost afraid of falling asleep, but he could also tell how drained he was. He took hold of Ianto's arm and pulled him over onto his chest, wrapping his own arm about the younger man's shoulders.

As Ianto rested his head on Jack's chest, the sound of his heartbeat filled his mind as he found himself drifting off into a dreamless sleep.

Jack held onto Ianto tightly, not wanting to let go for a moment.

"So what do you think?"

"I'm not convinced - it's obviously designed to work alongside physiological processes, which means that anything we're observing in a test tube just isn't comparable to how it would react in Ianto's bloodstream."

"Owen – you have to accept that we just haven't got time for the whole nine yards of animal testing, phase I and phase II trials."

"I know that, it's just that – fuck it, I'm looking for a bloody miracle and all we've got so far is a half hearted magic trick. Yes, it does seem to have stimulated the production of antibodies to deal with virus in the blood plasma and it has also managed to stimulate some bloody effective killer T cells – that's the bloody trouble-"

"But that's what we want isn't it? Cytotoxic T cells that destroy infected tissues?"

"Oh yeah, these bastards are effective – too fucking effective, they're ruthless – wiping out any antigen presenting cells and all those in close association with infected cells."

"Owen – just what is the problem?" Tosh was frowning, she could tell that Owen had found out something far from satisfactory, but he was so pissed off that he was having trouble explaining it to her.

"Think of weapons – ideally what we need is a precise, targeted weapon, one that brings about a surgical strike in effect. What we've got here is the immune system equivalent of a fucking great cannon ball. It takes no prisoners, which means it doesn't just destroy the virus infected cells, but large areas of surrounding tissue – collateral damage on a potentially large scale. No doubt Jack's body can take it, especially with his speedy recovery properties. But Ianto isn't quite so well prepared for what this will do."

"What do we do? Is there any way of moderating its response?"

"Not in the time frame we're working to – the clock's ticking, Tosh and there's fuck all I can do to slow it down. It's all or nothing. We either take a risk with this or we watch him deteriorate and die."

Ianto had turned onto his side facing the wall, afraid of letting Jack see his face contorted in pain. He was comforted by the warmth that covered his back, proof that Jack wasn't going anywhere, he was spooning himself around his back and holding onto him as if frightened to let go.

Ianto was breathing shallowly, partly because his chest hurt when he took deep breaths and partly to quell the coughing fit that he could feel building up inside. He knew that one deep breath would set it off and although Owen had given him antibiotics, all they seemed to have done was bought him some time.

"You OK? You're very quiet and I know you're not sleeping – your breaths are too fast and too shallow for that."

Jack had got even closer as he spoke softly, letting Ianto know that he couldn't fool him for much longer.

Ianto couldn't answer out loud now, it was impossible to speak without taking that deep breath that would trigger his cough. He tried to nod in a convincing way, but Jack wasn't buying it.

"Come on – speak to me. What is it? The truth, Ianto – tell me."

Inadvertently he took in a gulp of air, and that was it, he doubled over coughing as his reflexes responded to the irritation in his lungs. He was vaguely aware of Jack pulling him into a sitting position, one arm about his shoulders supporting him as his eyes watered and his chest convulsed.

Jack looked on in horror as tiny specks of blood appeared on the sheets beneath Ianto's head. He recognised this – it was the sign that lung damage was close to entering an irreparable phase. If they didn't get a treatment for him soon it would be too late.

"Ianto, listen carefully, I need to get Owen – just stay like that sitting up OK?"

Jack propped him up with extra pillows and pulled the duvet up over his chest.

Pulling on his trousers and clambering up the ladder clutching a tee shirt, Jack ran out of his office and down the stairs towards where he could hear Owen and Tosh talking.

"Owen – get your ass up here now."

"What's happened?"

"It's Ianto – he's starting to cough up blood – not much. But you'd damn well better have that treatment ready."

"Shit – you need to listen to me, Jack. Yes, we've isolated the agents from your blood that will trigger an immune reaction that will wipe out the virus and any infected cells-"

"Great – give it to him!"

"It's not that fucking simple. Like any immune response the side effects are likely to be worse than the actual symptoms of the disease. It might do more harm than good, but from what you say, it's our last resort – there's nothing else I can do for him."

"So the cure won't work?" Jack looked to Tosh, who was sitting there, biting her lip anxiously.

"It will rid him of the virus. But it might have as bad an effect as the potential cytokine storm that we've been trying to avoid. There's no way of telling – this is something completely new. All we have to go on is that it works for you. And to be honest, you're not exactly the average man-"

"Damn!"

"What's it to be, Jack? Are you willing to risk it?"