I woke up tangled in the sheets of the bed. My head was pounding, and the first thing I did was slam back a painkiller from the bottle on the bedside table. I then turned my head to the side to see Jack, splayed out, fast asleep. He had nothing covering him and was quite the sight to see. I laid and watched his chest rise and fall with his breaths for a moment. A smile crossed my face when I looked at the hand he had laying on his chest; his wedding ring on prominent display.

Memories of the night before floated through my head. I'd gotten out of the shower and dried myself off. I looked in the mirror and noticed how much livelier I looked after getting cleaned up. I noted that my chin was scruffy and needed a shave, but I didn't bother. I knew I would want to have a close shave in the morning anyways. Instead, I wiped my face off with my towel and hung it on the hook beside the bathroom door.

I don't know if it was the warm water and steam from my shower in the bathroom or the overwhelming variety of emotions flooding my head, but I exited the bathroom with a direct path to Jack. I wasn't even thinking about it. It was like some sort of innate force pulling me towards him without him even saying a word; without even looking up at me for that matter, as he continued to rest. I climbed up onto the bed and on top of him. His eyes drifted open and he smiled as he awoke. He rolled his head from side to side to stretch his neck and looked at me without saying a word. I leaned down and kissed him quickly before sitting back up.

"Well hello there," He had said, his grin spreading as he quickly wiped the sleep from his eyes. The 0-to-60 of his emotions from just waking up to suggestiveness and arousal was something that could only be seen in the Jack Harkness I had grown to know and love.

His eyes drifted down my torso and back up. His hands moved around my back and rested on my ass. I leaned back down and put my lips against his; a gentle kiss turning more intense almost immediately. I scooted down his body so that I had better access to kissing him. There was no sound in the room aside from the soft moans we let out as we bit at each others' lips and dug our nails into each others' skin. We were nothing more than skin against skin; mine still soft with the dampness of the shower. The coolness from the room was soon replaced with the heat and friction and the scent of sex. He'd grasped at my throat as I willingly gave myself over to him without a second thought.

The intimacy in which we'd engaged the night before had been intense and harsh. It was common for things to go that way for us after a stressful situation. While we were comfortable enough to talk about anything with one another, some things were easier said with sex than words. Sometimes it was a days-long tiring run-in with something from the rift, sometimes it was after a rough call with U.N.I.T., it could be a generalized frustration with our job, and sometimes it was a frightening health issue that sent us both into an emotional frenzy. It was a classic and obvious example of two men bottling up their thoughts and feelings until they could let it out through physicality. Despite that, Jack had been careful to avoid touching the back of my head. We hadn't paid such respect to the rest of each others' bodies, however.

Now, this morning, as I lay there watching Jack's breathing and seeing how his immortality had healed all his love marks overnight, erasing so much of my work, I felt so much more relaxed. I looked down my torso and saw bite marks and bruises and little red marks freckled across my abdomen. I could feel scratch marks on my back and shoulder blades from where we'd held onto each other as we'd made love. I couldn't see it, but I knew a large love bite would be on the side of my neck. Jack knew I loved

the feeling when he focussed there.

I leaned over and rubbed my hand side to side on his smooth chest. His eyes fluttered open. He took my hand in his own hand and brought it up to his lips; laying a kiss on my wedding ring. I turned further onto my side and slightly readjusted the pillow beneath my head.

"Good morning, Mr. Harkness-Jones," Jack said with a smile. He looked down my body. "I really did a number on you," he said. "Are you okay? I should have been more gentle." He ran his finger down stomach to touch the marks. I shivered under his touch. While I am certain that concern was on his mind, I knew he was also satisfied by what he was seeing.

"I'm fine," I smiled at him. "You looked the same as me last night. Your super powers just took away all my hard work overnight." I watched him chuckle when I said 'super powers.'

"I wish they hadn't," he said. "I would love to be able to have something to look at throughout the day so that I could think about you and remember our night together. Now you get to look down at yourself at any point and have a reminder of the feeling of me on you." He smiled and whispered, "And I know you will."

"That's enough out of you," I said with a laugh as I playfully pushed at his chest.

He smiled again and then reached his hand out and stroked my cheek. "So my love, what do you want to do today?"

I rolled back onto my back and stared at the ceiling, pondering his question for a moment. There wasn't much more in the whole world I could ask for than what he has already given me. "All I want is to lay in this bed all day, order room service, watch some stupid, cheesy romance films, and kiss my husband."

"I think that's the most decisive you've ever been, Ianto," Jack said. "That sounds nice." He reached over and opened the drawer to the bedside table, taking the room service menu out and tossing it to me. "Order anything that sounds good. Order it all if you want. Let's have a feast." He grinned and started to lean in to kiss me, stopping only inches from my lips. "And mimosas," he whispered. "Multiple mimosas." After finishing his thought, he gently settled his lips atop mine and kissed me. He pulled away, ran a hand through my hair, and then rolled off the bed to stand up.

I watched him walk, fully undressed, with zero shame, out onto the balcony. He stretched his back and reached his arms up to the sky. I stared at him wide eyed for a moment before sitting up and looking through the menu. I picked up the phone from the bedside table and called down to guest services. I did, in fact, order us quite the feast. While my appetite was nearly nonexistent at that point, I knew I needed to have a higher caloric intake. I took Jack's advice and ordered us mimosas as well.

Before long, we were back in bed together, plates of food strewn in front of us, drinks in hand. I had put some cheesy rom-com on the TV. We practically ignored it as we devoured the food before us; everything much more rich than a typical full English. You could hardly find a full English anywhere in the U.S. anyways. Instead, we had opted for french toast, and omelets, sausages, and just about every item listed on the menu.

Several drinks later, we'd abandoned most of our plates. We'd laid back down, and Jack was holding me against his chest. I felt the slight buzz of alcohol in my head. I reached up and kissed Jack. I could still taste the somewhat bitter taste of prosecco on his lips.

While I was happy and comfortable, there was one thing that kept eating at me little-by-little. "I can't believe you've gone this long without checking your phone or checking in with work," I said, looking up at him, my eyes focussing in and out due to the alcohol.

"I don't need to. I promised you time for just the two of us," he said. "I like to keep my promises." He said it so matter-of-factly, but I knew him better than that. I heard the slight twinge in his voice.

"Yeah, but don't you wonder how everything is going? I mean do you think everything is okay?"

Jack shifted in an agitated way. "I mean yeah I've been thinking about it. I'm sure everything's fine though. It's just because it's the first time I've been away with no contact in so long."

Filling myself to the brim with anxiety, I couldn't help but project my emotions on him a bit. I knew it must be bothering him as well. "Maybe you should just check," I said.

He looked over at me. "Would it make you feel better if I did?"

"Yeah," I replied. "It must be bothering you as well. I know you well enough to know that."

He sighed and nodded. "Yeah I suppose. Let me grab my phone. I'll check my messages." He rolled to the side of the bed and let his feet hit the floor. He grabbed his phone and walked out onto the balcony to listen to his messages.

I grabbed the TV remote and began to flip through the channels. I landed on one and tossed the remote aside. I reached over and grabbed my bottle of painkillers. I tossed three of them back and swallowed them with the last of my mimosa.

"Shit," I muttered to myself. I was almost out. I knew I was taking them much more frequently than I was meant to, almost every other hour, but it was keeping the pain down and elevating my mood drastically from where it was. They'd only given me a small dose as it was. I grabbed my phone and took a picture of one of the pills so that Owen could get me more of them when we returned home.

I looked out the window and saw Jack facing out on the phone talking with someone; presumably Owen. I stood up and took a moment to revel in the plush carpeting beneath my feet before walking over to the sliding glass door. I pulled it open, letting the breeze from the ocean wash over me and walked out. Then I leaned up against the glass and faced him. Hearing me exit, Jack slowly turned around. His lips upturned into a grin.

I watched his eyes float up and down my body. He truly had a one track mind, didn't he?

"Owen, I've gotta go," he said abruptly. He hung up the call immediately, awaiting no response, and just stared at me. "Well I'll be damned," he said.

I laughed at his colloquialism. "What the hell is that supposed to mean? Sounds like something an old man would say." I raised an eyebrow at him. He rolled his eyes for a second before his response.

"I'd just love to tell the Ianto Jones of two years ago that he'd one day be standing naked outside on a balcony in California with me, overlooking the beach and wearing a wedding ring." He smiled further. "I think his cheeks would turn so red that his head would explode." He leaned back against the wood railing of the balcony and crossed his arms over his chest.

I felt my cheeks flush as I looked at him. It was always embarrassing. He always knew what to say to give me goosebumps. "I suppose that's probably true. I doubt I'd have believed you. I'd have probably thought it was just another one of your bizarre come-ons."

Jack pushed off the railing and walked towards me with his charming smile. "Yet here we are," he said.

I assumed he would kiss me. I assumed he would touch me. I assumed he would do what Jack Harkness does best; seduction. I think that was his plan, but I watched his movements fully pause. He stopped and looked at me for a moment. I could tell he was thinking about something. He stared at me for a moment. His eyes trailed up and down my body again, but this time it had no sensuality. His face changed a bit. He kept his smile plastered to his lips, but his eyes shifted. They became tired. They looked darker and sadder. His façade began to shatter. At one time he may have been able to fool me or convince me that he didn't have an ounce of fear in his bones, but not anymore. He'd done it to himself; he'd let himself get far too close with someone. I could see right through him.

Instead of kissing me, he walked up to me and wrapped his arms around my waist. He hugged me close to him, not an ounce of sexuality to it aside from our naked bodies. I was taken aback for a moment, it not being the reaction I had anticipated. Jack didn't waiver for a second. He just tightened his grip around my waist and buried his face into my neck. I finally came to my senses and brought my arms up around him. I laid a hand on the back of his head.

Everything had been about me as of late. I had been paying so little attention to Jack's wellbeing and emotions and needs. I could only imagine that he was exhausted emotionally and mentally. I knew there was more to it than that, but when you're dealing with a man who has lived as many lives as Jack, you have to pick and choose your metaphorical battles. I wondered what had set him off. I rubbed my hand up and down his back, feeling his soft and warm skin against my fingertips. I went to pull away to look him in the eyes, but he held on tight. I heard a quiet sniffle from my shoulder. I pulled back from him with a gentle but firm force and grabbed his face between my hands.

His eyes were red and his smile long-faded. I looked at him and thought about the fact that I hadn't ever seen him truly cry. Maybe I'd seen him come close when Suzie died, but I had never seen him cry. The trails of his tears stained his face, and he tried to dodge my eye contact, turning his face to the side. I grabbed a towel from the railing and dabbed at his tears.

I gently took his face between my hands again. "My love," I whispered. I reached up and kissed his forehead. "Let's go inside." I took his hand and guided him inside. I had him lay on the bed and then walked around to the other side so that I could lay next to him, spooning him, and holding him tightly. Instead, he rolled so that he was facing me and wrapped himself around me. I, too, wrapped my arms around him

His cries had become more like sobs, and I watched his walls come down. He didn't say a word. He only cried and held onto me like his life depended on it. My heart was broken for him. I didn't even know exactly what was bothering him, but I knew he was hurting. The way he held me reminded me of a child who grabs onto their mother when they're scared because that's the only source of security and safety they have. I didn't see him as a child, but I did see him as being scared. He shook slightly as he cried.

I kissed the top of his head and rubbed circles on his back, doing everything to try to soothe him. "When you want to talk," I whispered, "I'm right here. If you don't want to talk, we can just lay here." I squeezed him a little tighter so that he knew I wasn't going anywhere.

He didn't talk right away. His cries settled down for a bit, turning to soft sniffles. He still did not let go. I made sure to hold him back. I didn't want him to worry that he was bothering me at all. It must've been at least half an hour before he spoke. His voice trembled, and the words he spoke were muffled against my skin.

"Don't leave me," he whispered.

I couldn't help but let the memories of those very words leaving my lips flow into my head. They were the words I'd said to him as I begged him to stay with me at the hospital. My head had been clouded beyond belief, and the only emotions I felt were fear and sadness. I had cried to Jack, asking him not to leave me. The only thing I knew was that I needed him to comfort me. I didn't just need comfort. I needed comfort from him. He laid there with me, cramped in a tiny hospital bed that night. He'd held me without hesitation. He didn't know how I was feeling, but he knew that I needed to feel safe and loved. Now here he was, barely a few days later, begging me in the very same way.

"I'm not ready yet," he whispered against my chest. "I've lost so much already." I still didn't know what to say. I refused to loosen my grip around him. My heart started to hurt; literal physical pain pounding in my chest. I prayed that he could not hear or feel it as he laid there. I let my head fall so that I could rest my cheek against his head. Tears slowly fell down my cheek. I made sure to wipe them away before Jack could see them or feel them.

Every time I saw how much I brought him down, I couldn't help but think about the Jack Harkness I'd met years ago - dashing, lively, unbothered. He was a mystery, both in spirit and in history. I couldn't believe what I'd reduced him to; a scared, crying little boy.

I stayed quiet for a moment, knowing that if I were to speak, it would be evident that I was crying. I needed to be strong. He'd been strong for me so many times. I'd argue that he had always been strong. Now it was my turn in a moment of his weakness. I could tell by the way he shook that he was remembering all the people and things he had lost throughout his life. They may have even been flashbacks. I struggled to know how his mind worked. I didn't know quite what to say to help him. I was able to put it out of my mind after a while; force my tears to stop and my breath to stop shaking. I took a deep breath in.

"Jack," I said. Testing the waters of my voice with one word to see whether the trembling had stopped or not. I got lucky. "Today I am here with you. I love you. You know I do. I can't even pretend to be able to understand the things you've been and all that you've lost. You will lose me one day. I can't pretend that isn't the reality. You will be fine, though. You've loved and lost before, and while it isn't fair, you are resilient."

He slowly leaned his head back at me. His face was red and he'd been biting his lip so hard that the skin had slightly split. The look on his face formed a knot in my stomach, but I kept a stiff upper lip. I softly ran my fingers through his hair and massaged his head as he laid there. He just looked at me for a while. I pulled the comforter up a bit around us. He finally let his head fall again. His cries had ceased, though he still shook quite a bit.

"I don't know how much longer I can do this, Ianto." His voice was stiff now. "I want to go with you. I don't want to keep going." He didn't say it in a whisper. He said it clearly and stiffly.

How does anyone respond to a comment like that? I thought about the irony of the suicidal, immortal man being comforted by a dying man. My heart hurt for him. All I could do was continue to hold him tightly, to kiss him on the top of his head, and to make sure he could tell that I was there, right then, in that moment.

"They all still need you, Jack." I let the words sit for a moment. "And I need you to be here for them."