Language warning.

Trigger warning for this chapter: (I suppose this story in general.) Mentions of domestic violence/abuse.

Also just a quick note - I am not a doctor and nor do I work for the police force. I apologise for any mistakes I make in this case.

The following morning Ianto jolted awake suddenly, heart racing and body sweating, the memories of a nightmare fading fast. He rolled over carefully to check the bedside clock, wincing only slightly from healing bruises, and was amazed to see that it was already half past ten in the morning. Jack would have already left for the office; Ianto hadn't even heard him leave.

Ten minutes later Ianto decided to examine the state of his phone as he cradled a mug of coffee at Jack's kitchen table. He hadn't checked or responded to any messages since Lisa's last voicemail the previous morning. He was unsurprised to see a long list of messages, varying in tone and attitude:

Ianto call me.

Ianto where are you?

Why are you ignoring my calls?!

I love you, please answer me xxxxxxxx

Ianto you are my life, please call.

Who are you with?

I can't live without you Ianto xxxxxx

We can get through this together my love

ANSWER ME FOR FUCKS SAKE!

Ianto what the fuck are you playing at?!

I am looking at the bottle of sleeping pills maybe it would be better if I wasn't here.

I love you

If you don't call I will kill myself and blame you.

This is all your fault. If I die you will be to blame.

Why are you so pathetic and stupid?

Ianto, baby, please call me

I love you but you really push me sometimes to do these things

Enough was enough: Ianto suddenly hurled the phone through the kitchen door; it flung into the living room and hit the wall opposite where it lay, screen blank and cracked.

Jack listened to the all too familiar sound of Ianto's voicemail for the third time that morning. He was really starting to grow concerned. He had left the young man fast asleep in the flat, exhaustion having overcome him early the previous evening after their day in the fresh air. But now he was getting no response to his text messages, and he wasn't answering his phone. Jack knew he couldn't settle his mind to anything until he knew for sure he was ok, so he grabbed his coat and motioned to his boss he was taking an early lunch.

"Ianto!"

Jack tore through the flat, heart in his throat and dreading what sort of sight might greet him. Had Lisa tracked him down? Had he hit rock bottom and decided to cause himself harm, or maybe even worse? Everything seemed to be in its proper place, but there was no immediate sign of the blue eyed Welshman.

"Ianto! YAN!"

"Jack, I'm in the kitchen!"

Jack burst through the kitchen door, breathing hard, and found what he was looking for scrubbing the hob of Jack's electric oven.

"What's happened?" Ianto had paused in his cleaning spree, looking delightfully domestic in his yellow marigolds and one of Jack's old T-shirts, despite the old cuts decorating his otherwise flawless facial features.

"I… I just thought…" Jack breathed heavily and leant against the doorframe. "I hadn't heard a thing from you, and I just kept getting your voicemail and I thought…"

"You were worried about me?"

Jack took in the shocked look on Ianto's face as he realised he was the reason behind the urgency.

"Yeah, yeah I really was."

"Oh," Ianto swallowed. "Well, in that case I'm really sorry. I… I smashed my phone."

"You did what?"

"I threw it against the wall."

"Any… any particular reason why?"

"Lisa."

Ianto removed his marigolds, and began busying himself making coffee for the two of them as he spoke.

"The messages, the relentless texting and pleading, the threats and begging, I'd had enough."

"I can understand that." Jack sympathised, then gestured around the kitchen. "And… the cleaning?"

"Oh, that," Ianto grinned. "What can I say? It makes me feel better and, no offense Jack but the state of your oven was criminal!"

Jack let out a long laugh, relief flooding his body as he accepted a coffee from the man in front of him. His fingers brushed Ianto's a second longer than would be considered normal, and he felt a jolt of electricity flow through his arm.

When the week came to an end Jack's flat was as spotless as it had been the day he moved in, and a new phone had arrived via his Amazon prime account for Ianto. The two spent their morning working out the new phone's functions and features, whilst taking it in turns to choose the next film. Once lunch time rolled around, Jack presented a large meat feast pizza and they munched around the kitchen table swapping more stories and snippets of their lives.

"Honestly, I realised then I had a knack for organising, why else would they give me the task of rearranging the entire library after the refurbishment?"

Jack was laughing at the image of Ianto the librarian, fussing over whether the books were the right way round or alphabetised.

"I think you'd make a cute librarian," Jack winked, causing Ianto to blush.

"I've not had a job since," Ianto said quietly, not meeting Jack's eye.

"Do you want one?"

"I guess, I mean, I need to start contributing to society again."

"Yan, there's no rush," Jack said seriously. "It's only been a few days since you decided to change your life completely… and I just called you Yan again, didn't I?"

"You did." Ianto whispered.

"I'm sorry, slip of the tongue. You done?"

He gestured at Ianto's plate, where he'd only managed yet again to finish half a meal.

Ianto nodded, already beginning to blame himself for the shift in the mood of the conversation. Why couldn't he just talk without bringing up how pathetic his life was? He wondered why Jack was putting up with him for so long, or what he was expecting in return…

"Penny for your thoughts?"

Jack's voice jolted Ianto out of his brooding.

"Oh, it was nothing," Ianto told his hands. "I was just wondering…"

"Go on," Jack prompted gently.

"How long did you want me to…? I mean…" Ianto stammered, feeling his palms begin to sweat.

"You can stay as long as you like, as long as you need. Whichever." Jack said softly but firmly. "No pressure, no obligation."

Ianto nodded.

"Why don't you like to be called Yan?" Jack asked suddenly.

"Actually I do," Ianto responded, surprisingly to Jack. "But not just by anyone. It's not a nickname I allow easily. Lisa never used it, thankfully. She thought it sounded too weird."

"I see."

"I'm sorry, it's nothing against you personally Jack," Ianto explained hurriedly.

"Hey, please, enough with the apologising," Jack sighed. "It's ok, it really is. I want to help you find who you are again, and to do that I need to ask about things. Don't feel you have to explain the meaning behind every little thing, every answer."

Jack reached out slowly across the table, and after hesitating for only a moment, placed his hand over Ianto's.

"You're safe here."

In the middle of another film, Jack's phone buzzed and Owens name flashed on screen.

"Harkness." Jack growled, moving towards the kitchen.

Ianto yawned and stretched out his arms and legs, noting the significant change in the colouring of his old bruises. He couldn't remember the last time he had actually been able to move so freely. His burnt side was still sore and healing, but generally his body was healing well.

He stood in front of Jack's living room mirror and raised his t-shirt; he was still wearing Jack's cast offs which were slightly on the large side. He made yet another mental note to do something about that this week. Just as he was examining the state of his own bruise-covered back for the first time in a long while, Jack returned.

"Looking good Tiger," He quipped, flashing Ianto one of his flirtatious winks.

Ianto jumped, and dropped his t-shirt hurriedly.

"I didn't hear you."

"I didn't mean to make you jump," Jack's voice filled with concern. He had hoped his comment would lighten the mood; seeing the extent of the damage on Ianto's body that was still left to heal had shook him. He felt his fury rise but pushed it back down to the pit of his stomach.

"I'm ok."

"Ok," Jack returned to the sofa. "Well, that was actually Owen on the phone. He's booked you in for some sessions with a therapist he knows. Obviously it's your choice, but he wanted to try and pull some strings to get you in as soon as possible. Your first one is tomorrow."

Ianto sank back onto the sofa next to Jack, nodding silently.

"You ok?" Jack probed. "Her name is Doctor Martha Jones, Owen highly recommends her."

"I…" Ianto started but didn't know how to continue.

"Hey," Jack placed a hand gently on Ianto's shoulder, noting that the resulting flinch was a little less pronounced as usual. "Give it a go, even if it's just the once, for me? And then if you really do hate it, we can always think of something else."

"I guess…"

"Do you want me to go with you?"

"No!" Ianto answered, a little too hurriedly. "I mean, thanks for the offer but, well. I don't want, I mean, you don't…"

He hesitated, playing with his hands in his lap. Jack placed his other hand over them gently.

"I understand, I really do." He whispered. "You only have to tell me what you feel comfortable telling me. And that's only if you feel ready. You might find that you can talk easier to this doctor if she is a complete stranger."

"Just over a week ago you were a complete stranger."

"That's true," Jack nodded. "And now?"

"And now I can't imagine not knowing you." Ianto turned to look at Jack, his eyes full of emotion. "I really do owe you my life Jack."