Author's Notes - Thanks again to Padma97 for reviewing, and for everyone who's reading. It took a while to edit this chapter down to a T rating.

Waking from a long, deep sleep, Jack looked around in confusion. Something had awakened him as the muted light of dawn struggled to breach the white mini-blinds in the bedroom. He listened for sounds that did not belong, but gave up after five minutes when all he heard were the comforting creaks and groans of the house. Bright-eyed after such a long slumber, he reached for Melissa, pulling her against him, inhaling the comforting smell of her skin.

"You know that tickles," she complained playfully as turned to face him. She had been waiting impatiently for Jack to wake up for a while, even going so far as to pinch his nose a time or two. Happy to see him finally awake, she beamed at him.

Her smile was infectious, and he smiled back, their problems momentarily forgotten. "I can't help it. I love smelling you."

"I like it better when you're a little more hands on."

"I like that, too," he assured her, nuzzling her neck.

"I'm sorry."

He stilled at her words, wondering which minefield they were about to enter. She began to run her fingers through his hair. "Did he take you to Gray?"

"Yes."

The nightmare of that reunion filled his thoughts and he clung to her in despair, finally allowing himself to grieve in front of the one person who would understand. She held him tightly, allowing him to mourn the innocent boy his brother had been. As he trembled from the tears he refused to shed, she tried to assure him of his absolution.

"It wasn't your fault. It was the raiders. Please don't blame yourself. You did everything you could."

"I could have found him," he argued bitterly.

"You tried, remember? You told me how you looked for him as a Time Agent."

"It wasn't enough." He turned away from her, not quite ready to forgive himself.

"What did he do to you?" She didn't want to ask the question; it hurt her to know that he had been at Gray's mercy and she had been unable to help yet again.

"He didn't know about my problem with staying dead, so he tortured me slowly, in very inventive ways." She winced as he continued. "He told me that everything was my fault. I let go of his hand, and he was captured and then tortured for years. At first, I thought I deserved it. I thought that if he punished me enough, maybe he would eventually forgive me, but he never did. Finally, he got bored, and decided to poison me. I was dying and suddenly I realized that my brother had died a long time ago."

She squeezed his hand in sympathy, and he turned, burying his face against her chest, breathing raggedly until he could speak again. "When I knew I was dying, I stole my Vortex Manipulator from him. I was too weak to make the long trip here, and I was afraid I would lead Gray to you and the kids if I did. So, I programmed my wrist strap to take me five hundred miles away, and I died in the middle of the Peninsula. I admit by then I wasn't thinking too rationally. I don't know why I just didn't use it again, but it took me a week to walk to a settlement, and then a month to arrange transport to the capital. I had to make sure he wouldn't be hurting anyone else, so I reported his little torture chamber to the authorities. I didn't stick around to see what they found; I jumped here as soon as I could."

Teary-eyed, she whispered, "I'm sorry you had to die alone. I mess everything up. I couldn't stand to see them die. But I never wanted you to suffer. You have to believe me, Jack."

"Shh." He rubbed the scars on her back, knowing she felt guilty for so many things that weren't her fault. "It was worth the suffering. You saved Owen and Ianto, and Gray thinks I'm dead. We don't have to worry about him coming here and blowing up Cardiff, or shooting Tosh. Owen's not going to die in a nuclear power plant, and I am not letting him go anywhere near the Pharm. This reality is altered; it's not going to happen like it did before."

He had meant to reassure her that he would not make the same mistakes twice, but the realization that he remembered everything in the proper timeline filled her with dread. "You must hate me," she said quietly, her voice heavy with regret. "I stole you from Ianto, and kept so many things from you. You chose to reach out to me, and I embraced it, knowing you never would have in the real world. I've always been selfish when it comes to you, and I know sorry isn't good enough this time. I'll take the kids and move to London. It'll be easier to work with Rose-"

He stopped her self-recriminations with a harsh kiss. "Don't do this. I love you; it's always been you. Yes, I care for Yan, but it's not the same circumstances as before, is it? Besides, you've never been upset at sharing in the past. What happened before is my fault, and I was a stupid ape letting my fear of the Bad Wolf come between us."

Suddenly he straddled her, pinning her underneath him. Kissing her passionately, he made his hands lay claim to her entire body as he impatiently tugged off their clothes.

"You're wrong, you know." He breathed hotly in her ear. "When everything changes, I'll remember and find that stupid watch and rescue you and apologize for being such an idiot. But this is the real world right now, and you are mine."

As he felt his own arousal nearly overwhelm her, he demanded, "Tell me this is real."

"It's real," she gasped, her guilt finally vanquished as they sought comfort in each other.

Spent, they lay in each other's arms, enjoying the physical sensation of their trust and intimacy. Lazily, Jack caressed her skin with his rough fingertips, wondering how to ask her about the psychic bond he suspected she had formed with him.

"I didn't initiate it, Jack; you did," she said out loud in an amused tone of voice. "Forgot that we're touching? I can hear every unguarded thought in that head of yours right now, you know."

Laughing, he thought about a very vivid fantasy he had enjoyed dreaming up on the long trek through the Boeshane desert.

She slapped him playfully on the arm. "I'm not quite up for that one right now."

"Does that mean you will be later?" he asked hopefully. When she just smiled at him, he decided to ask, "How did I initiate a psychic bond, and why can't I feel it?"

"Remember when you reached into my mind after Manger had killed Susan and Matthew?"

His hands stilled on her stomach. He didn't like to be reminded of that horror. "I remember."

"I had retreated to the very center of my being, and you somehow found me." Your comforting me there was an offer to give yourself to me, even if you didn't understand what you were offering. I should have explained or at least asked, I know. But, I love you so much, and I felt so alone. I wanted you so badly. I just accepted." The more she tried to explain, the more agitatied she became, until she finished apologetically. "It doesn't make up for their absence, but it's so much better than being completely alone in my head."

"I'm glad, then. I just don't understand why I can't feel you like that. Is it because I'm human?"

"No," she admitted softly. "It's because I haven't offered myself to you."

"Why not?" he asked confused and a little hurt.

"It's a permanent bond, Jack. The only way to break it is through death, and I know that I'll die before you. I can't ask you to go through that."

"But you feel it every time I die. Does the bond break then?" He shuddered to think of her going through that pain each time his life ended.

"Yes, but it reforms as you revive. For some reason, I don't feel the desolation while you're dead. It's almost like the bond's simply waiting for you. I was more distressed when Hart took you so far away. I couldn't feel you at all, probably because you're not as strong of a telepath as I am." She kissed him, willing him to know that her reluctance was not a rejection.

"I want you, all of you. I'm going to outlive everyone I love, Melissa, and it's going to hurt. Don't deny me this, please."

Her resolve melted as he spoke the undeniable truth. He would lose her no matter what; how could she say no? In an instant, she was inside his mind, deeper than she had ever been before. She found him in a cold desert, wearing a suit of armor, resembling a medieval knight, complete with a sword in his hand. His face blazed with the fiery glow of the Vortex, and his eyes held the wisdom of age.

"Jack," she whispered, completely in awe at the man before her, unaware of anything but him.

When he finally noticed her, he grinned, instantly becoming the familiar figure she loved. "Thank you," he told her sincerely, kissing her chastely on the lips. "What do we need to do?"

"Whatever comes naturally," she smiled with a wicked gleam in her eyes.

"Let me show you what I had a month to think about, then."

"Perfect."

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Glancing reluctantly at the clock, Jack decided it was past time to shower and get dressed. They couldn't hide in the bedroom forever, although considering how they had passed the time, he was tempted. The new bond he shared with his wife was incredible, and a little overwhelming. Touching, he could feel every twinge of emotion she had.

"Shower together?" she playfully begged as he entered the bathroom, a pouty look on her face that looked more ridiculous than pitiful.

"If you promise not to keep your hands to yourself, Mrs. Harkness."

"I'm sure I can find something of yours to lather," she responded slyly as she turned on the hot water.

Much later, they finally started to dress, sharing the small bathroom vanity. Drying her hair, she watched him brush his teeth, smiling happily to herself. All of a sudden, she looked at him in surprise. "I'm famished!"

He answered without thinking. "It is past one, you know. I'm hungry, too. Guess we'll have to eat a late lunch."

"Poor Jack," she teased, "going hungry because his Time Lord wife can't keep track of time."

He felt her crushing panic as the significance of that statement finally pierced her consciousness. Shaking uncontrollably, her legs turned to jelly, and she began to hyperventilate. He grabbed her before she could sink to the floor, encouraging her to take slow, deep breaths while he struggled to maintain his own composure.

"I'm here," he repeated, over and over, knowing he couldn't offer her the hope that everything would be all right.

Eventually, her body calmed; yet her mind was so despondent that it threatened to crush him. He poured every positive thought and feeling he could imagine into their bond, hoping she would understand that he loved her unconditionally. Slowly, he sensed her resignation, although the despair remained absolute.

"Is this why you wanted to bond with me, Jack? Because you knew I was crippled?"

He couldn't believe the words coming out of her mouth. "How could you think that after everything we've shared?"

His anguish hit her like a tidal wave. Immediately remorseful, she tried to make amends. "I didn't mean it like that. I meant-oh damn, I'm sorry, Jack. Please don't be angry." Putting her head against his chest, she closed her eyes, but tears still leaked down her face.

Hating to see her so upset, he quietly held her until she calmed once more. "I don't know about you, but I've cried enough today." Gently, he dried her wet cheeks with his handkerchief.

"Yeah," she agreed, still sniffling. Looking up at him almost shyly, she asked, "Are you mad at me?"

"No."

"I lied to you."

"I know."

He thought of that frozen scene, Ianto crumpled on top of Owen, a strung-out blowfish pointing a gun at the young man's head, more than ready to shoot. Even his ability to die would not have ensured their survival. He just wished there had been some other way.

Dreading the answer, he asked, "Is it permanent?"

"I don't know."

"We're going to have to explain."

"I know."

They sat on the floor of the bathroom for some time without speaking. She was still coming to terms with her injury, and her mind was in turmoil; however, the absolute hopelessness of a few minutes ago was lifting. He would not have to worry that she would simply give up.

"Are you still hungry?"

"Starving," she replied, hugging him fiercely. Leading her out of the bedroom, Jack was somewhat surprised to find that they were alone in the house, although there was a note taped to the door.

Jack,

You owe Tosh. She brought over sushi last night. Your loss. She even stayed the night and helped me talk to Susan and Matthew this morning, which should have been your job. Your couch is shit as a bed by the way, especially for two. Call me as soon as you read this and tell me what the fuck is going on, or I will knock down the door myself and haul both of you to hospital where I can keep an eye on you. And where, I might add, you will unable to engage in your favorite pastime.

Owen

Jack smiled fondly as he read the letter, handing it to his wife when he finished. Placing the call, he tried not to laugh when Owen answered, "Jesus H. Christ, Captain, you took your time!"

"Beauty sleep," he responded, looking warmly at Melissa, who managed a smile at his comment.

"Are you going to give me a report, or am I going to have to make good my threat?"

"We're going to lunch," he responded. "All of us. We'll pick up Susan and Matthew on our way. Tell Gwen she can even bring Rhys if he can make it. There's a little cafe on Fifth Street that a friend of mine owns. Meet you there in thirty minutes."

"How is she?" Owen asked cautiously.

"Alive, and that's all that matters to me."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Malcolm had outdone himself again. His chocolate cheesecake tasted every bit as good as one might find in New York. It was so good in fact, that Melissa had eaten two slices, in addition to the onion soup, hamburger, chips, and salad that she had devoured in record time. On the surface, everyone appeared relaxed and enjoying their lunch, but as the last regular customer left the cafe and Jack locked the front door, an apprehensive silence settled over the group.

"Don't look so glum," he lightly admonished as he sat back down. "It's nice to have an off-site every once in a while. Sometimes I forget that food doesn't always come in those little plastic containers."

"How are you, Jack?" Tosh asked nervously, voicing the concern of everyone at the table.

"Fine," he replied breezily, not wanting to dwell on the reason for his absence, or his team's lack of trust.

Owen, however, was not going to let him avoid the issue. "It needs to be discussed, Captain."

"What?" he hotly retorted, forgetting for a moment that the kids were present. "That John Hart kidnapped me on behalf of my insane, psychotic brother so Gray could torture me over four months before deciding to poison me? Or the fact that you all thought I would choose to go with him voluntarily while my wife suffered a seizure in the car park? Which is it, Owen? Because I really want to know."

"Four months, Jack?" Gwen asked in dismay.

"Six, actually." Eyes narrowing, he looked at Susan, who was squeezing Ianto's hand in a futile attempt to keep from crying. Then, for a moment, Ianto's and Jack's eyes locked, and the Welshman conveyed his intentions towards the Captain's daughter quite clearly.

More than a little taken aback, Jack missed Gwen's apology, but he couldn't help but notice how miserable he had made his kids feel. Regretting his outburst, he apologized to the group. "Look, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have told you like that. I just don't understand why you all think I would have run off."

"Mass hysteria?" Ianto suggested dryly. His wisecrack earned him a grin from the Captain, letting everyone relax somewhat.

"How can you be gone for six months? I saw you less than two weeks ago." Rhys was confused, not that most of Torchwood didn't confuse him, but this was more confusing than the odd Weevil attack.

Holding up his wrist strap, Jack answered. "Vortex Manipulator. Standard Time Agency issue; it has teleport and time travel capability. Hart had one as well."

Sitting next to him, Melissa asked in a small, hesitant voice that nevertheless was audible to everyone at the table, "Is six months a long time, Jack?"

Gently holding her hand, he swallowed a lump in his throat before he answered. "Yes." He could feel her confusion, frustration and sorrow bubbling to the surface.

"Dad?" Matthew asked fearfully as everyone stared uncomfortably at his mother.

"It's okay, Matt. We need to talk about this, too. Might as well do it while everyone's here."

"Melissa suffered a mild to moderate stroke," Owen announced, taking the burden of having to tell everyone away from her and Jack. We're still evaluating the deficits, but . . . ." He trailed off, knowing everyone had seen the most obvious effect of whatever had happened to her. He really needed to have a private conversation with her soon.

Embarrassed, the object of everyone's scrutiny studied the empty plate in front of her.

Deeply troubled, Ianto blurted out, "You mean she lost her sense of time because she saved us? How can she? She's-"

"Still in the room," Melissa managed to say loudly enough to stop him mid-sentence. He had most certainly guessed what species she actually was. Idly, she wondered if Rhys and Gwen were the only ones at the table who still thought her human. Surely, Owen had told Tosh at some point.

"Sorry." The archivist was acutely self-conscious of his near slip.

"What do you mean, because she saved you, Ianto? What happened?" Tosh had not been told the details of the encounter with the blowfish on the roof.

Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, Jack searched for something to say, but Owen beat him to it. "Ianto and I were being held hostage by a blowfish high on cocaine. He would have killed us both if she hadn't done some psychic shit that saved us but caused her to have a stroke."

"But I thought she couldn't do that since she killed that agent from Torchwood I?" Gwen was wary that she had been lied to again, but her comment shocked Rhys and the kids, who had no idea what she was talking about.

Seeing that Gwen was on the verge of making an uncomfortable accusation, Melissa quickly defended herself. "I honestly don't know how I did what I did, Gwen. I'm just glad it worked." Which was the truth; her memory of that time was now encased in a fog. Seeing the former constable continue to stare at her suspiciously, she added nervously, "I'm not a threat to any of you, I promise."

"Of course not, Sweetheart," Owen encouraged her gently, once again surprising just about everyone with his kindness.

"You shouldn't have," Ianto announced decisively. "That was too high a price to pay."

"It was mine to pay." Melissa retorted haughtily, eyes flashing. Softening her tone, she continued, "And I would pay it again, Ianto Jones, even knowing the consequences, so don't start wallowing in misplaced guilt-you, either, Owen."

Finishing, she turned to the medic, holding his gaze for a few moments before pasting on a halfway believable smile. "I'm sure it will be an adjustment, but I want to go back to work."

When Jack, Susan, Matthew and Owen all opened their mouths to protest, she quickly added, "Not fieldwork, I realize that. However, I know more about aliens and the Rift than the rest of you put together, including you, Jack. Even if I have to go back to being only a consultant, I still want to help."

"That sounds reasonable," he assured her, knowing she needed some sort of goal to work towards. "Any other questions?"

"One." Rhys surprised everyone by speaking. "What happened to this Hart fellow who has a time travel watch like yours? Will he come back for you?"

"No," Jack answered tersely. Then, understanding that everyone wanted to hear the explanation, he clarified. "Hart's dead. He put together the canisters he had us collect and it turned out to be a bomb triggered to his DNA. Very nasty way to go."

Seeing there were no other questions, Jack tried to fake a semblance of normalcy and grinned. "Reports, people. I want to know what nasty treasures the rift's spit out since I've been gone. And Susan and Matthew, you can explain to the team how they missed the eight Tretals who attend your school. We're talking green skin, guys!"

Chuckling to himself, Jack watched his team squirm as his kids began their tale. Being back in Cardiff, talking with the gang, sorting problems, it all seemed so normal and right. Glancing at Melissa, however, he was forcibly reminded of just how much was wrong. As his thoughts turned poignant, he felt a warm sense of optimism suddenly fill him. Amazed, he recognized that it came from her. If she could be hopeful, then he could as well. Sending her a burst of gratitude, he relaxed, focusing on the day to day strangeness that was Torchwood.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Owen, you know as well as I that a body scan now would be pointless. The damage is already done." Melissa looked at the medic wearily, trying to remain patient. At least he had let her go home with her children before ordering Jack to haul her into the Hub for tests.

"We're going to do what we should have done the first day you started work. A proper scan with the proper equipment so I'll at least have a starting baseline, even if you are impaired at the moment."

Jack had ordered Tosh and Gwen out on a reconnaissance mission to Tinturn Abbey to investigate supposed sightings of strange lights, and Ianto was holed up in the archives, the better to avoid his former lover and father of his current one. More importantly, the Captain was stuck in his office trying to catch up on paperwork. It was the perfect time to do a few tests.

"Fine," she reluctantly agreed.

"Stand still." He snapped out of habit as she started laughing while the scanner ran up her body.

"It tickles," she complained, but held her body motionless for the rest of the test.

Together, they analyzed the results. "That's amazing. Your brain's isn't divided into two hemispheres, it's one seamless organ."

"Easier to use all of it that way," she commented smugly, a smile on her face.

"What's this part then?" Owen asked, pointing to a defined area in the exact middle of her brain. "It looks like there might be some scarring in this area, see?"

Her smile vanished. "That's the temporal lobe. Not quite like your temporal lobe; speech is controlled from this part here, see?" She pointed quickly to a spot in the front of her brain before continuing her explanation. "Our temporal lobe is just that, the area of the brain where we process our sense of time."

"But it's huge," he remarked, looking at the large area on the top; it was a deep blue, in contrast to the light pink of the rest of her brain.

"Time Lord, remember?" There was no hint of humor in her voice, however, just fatigue.

"Does your brain tissue heal?" He watched her grimly stare at the display.

"Yes and no. As we age, our cells renew, even brain cells. However, scar tissue like that is not a product of the aging process, but some sort of trauma; it's not going to simply disappear." Resigned, she began to study the other scans of her body.

"What's that in the middle of your sternum?" Owen asked, fascinated by her physiology.

"It helps maintain proper oxygen levels in the blood if I'm not breathing. It's part of my respiratory bypass system."

"How long can you go without breathing?" he asked in astonishment.

"Not really sure at this point," she answered honestly. "Every time I think of how long anything, my head feels fuzzy. I'm going to have to see if I can relearn some things." She went on to her lymphatic system, grateful that Owen didn't offer his sympathy once again. Pity was one emotion she could not bear.

He remained quiet, simply watching her, until his curiosity got the better of him. "That's the most efficient reproductive system I've ever seen. How the hell did your people deal with overpopulation?"

She laughed, amused by his question. "You're still trying to relate my physiology with a human's, Dr. Harper. The release of an egg is a voluntary process. And yes, it's a very efficient system."

"Placement of the egg here," she pointed at the display, "all but guarantees fertilization. The fertilized egg then travels along here, attaching firmly to the uterine wall. And lest you think that the females had all the power, males could consciously choose to withhold sperm, or not. Pregnancy was a very deliberate condition with my people."

"How did you end up with twins, then?"

Not wanting to explain the chameleon arch or the alternate universe for that matter, she merely smirked. "Jack's just that good."

He rolled his eyes, and then, the physician in him taking over, he asked without thinking. "How long is the gestation period?"

Frowning, she simply raised her eyebrows.

"Oh, right, sorry. We've really got to work on that," he apologized, focusing once again on her immediate problem. "Any ideas on how you might go about regaining your concept of time?"

As Owen shut down the display and saved the information on his computer, she answered, "A few." After discussing theories for over an hour, Melissa's stomach growled. "I'm hungry; can we eat now?"

"I was just coming to get you two," Jack answered for Owen as he walked down the stairs. "It's definitely lunchtime; although with a stomach like yours, who needs a watch?"

"Jack, you're a genius! Owen and I have been going round and round trying to figure out how I can experience time like a Time Lord again, when you humans already have time all figured out. Well, at least figured out in the sense that you measure it, chop it up into tiny little pieces and put names on it. If I can just grasp those basic concepts, I can get by on Earth with a wristwatch and a calendar!" Excited, she raced upstairs.

Still in the autopsy bay, Owen looked at his friend sadly, "The scan revealed scar tissue in her brain; she doesn't think it will heal. How can she stay so positive?"

"I have no idea, Owen; I'm just thankful she does," Jack admitted, his eyes haunted.

Changing the subject as they walked up the stairs, the medic asked, "By the way, how long is a Time Lord's gestation period? We discussed her reproductive system, but she couldn't give me an answer with her head still messed up."

"Why the hell were you discussing that?" Jack demanded, suddenly panicky.

Not noticing the Captain's nervousness, Owen responded, "Academic curiosity. She finally let me do a full body scan. Did you know she has a respiratory bypass?"

"Oh yeah, I know all about that one." Jack grinned lecherously.

"Don't enlighten me, please. I really don't want to know. Just answer the question."

Very reluctantly, he admitted, "I don't know, Owen. I wasn't there for the pregnancy or the twins' birth. I met them when they were fifteen." He hated all reminders that biologically they belonged to another man. It had been such a long time since he had thought of them as anything but his own that the medic's question gave him a sharp pain in his chest.

"Christ, I forgot." Owen studied his friend for a moment. "I guess we all assumed that you were able to stay with her until the twins were born."

"I wish I could have," he said, his voice full of emotion.

"No wonder she's such a strong person."

Shaking himself out of his fantasy, Jack replied briskly, "She is, and a hungry person, too. I bet she's forgotten about lunch while looking for a watch and a calendar. Come on."