19. Tea

He found her in the archives, curled up on the old chair he'd found and moved to the work area near the entrance. Her legs were tucked under her, and she'd wrapped the blanket from the back of the chair around her shoulders. Staring off into the dark aisles, her face was a portrait of sadness and loss.

"I made some tea," Ianto said quietly, holding out Tosh's favorite mug. "The fruity green tea you and Gwen seem to like so much."

She glanced up in surprise and took the warm mug between cold hands. Taking a sip, she smiled at him. "It's good, you should try it."

He took a sip from his own mug, clearly coffee, black with sugar. Pulling over the desk chair, he turned it backwards and sat down in front of her, arms resting over the back. "No thank you," he said, continuing their long running banter over her preferred choice of tea. "Real tea is black with milk and honey," he said. "Not green with mangoes and pears." He smiled, and she shook her head fondly.

"You don't know what you're missing." Taking another sip, she sighed. Of course it was perfect; even if he didn't drink it himself, Ianto knew how to prepare it exactly as she liked it. "Thank you for this," she said.

"Haven't seen you for a while," said Ianto. "Figured you might be cold down here."

She shrugged. "It's chilly, but quiet."

He nodded in understanding. "There's a lot going on upstairs."

"Everything's changed," Tosh whispered, her eyes slipping shut. "Only it hasn't, not really. We thought we lost him, but we didn't."

"And yet, we have," said Ianto. "He's different now. We'll all have to adapt."

"Especially Owen," said Tosh.

"Especially Owen," echoed Ianto. He cleared his throat. "He can, you know. And he will. He has to."

Tosh shook her head and took another sip of warm tea. "He's so angry right now," she said, thinking of Owen's confrontation with Death. He'd been so willing to sacrifice himself, not only because he was a hero, but because he was a man who believed he'd lost everything.

Ianto was quiet for a moment. "He's scared, I think," he finally said. "Yes, he's angry…angry that he died but didn't die, and now he's living this strange half-life where he can't eat, can't breathe, can't even sleep. And he's on borrowed time. I don't think he wants to actually die, forever, but whatever's happened could be over in a day, a week, a year. That's terrifying."

Tosh nodded slowly, thinking about it. "But that's Torchwood," she pointed out. "We all live on borrowed time, don't we? It could be a Weevil tomorrow, or the Rift next week. We all face the risk of death with Torchwood."

"You're quite right." Ianto nodded, smiling as he glanced down. "Now I'm really depressed." He was clearly joking, however, and Tosh fussed at him.

"Stop it," she said. "You signed up for it, just like the rest of us, and you love it, just like the rest of us. But Owen…Owen didn't ask for this. Life, death…but not stuck in between."

"He didn't," Ianto agreed. "And I think I'd feel the same if I were brought back to such a life. Angry and scared."

Tosh was quiet for a moment. "Why did Jack do it?" she finally asked, knowing it was all right to ask Ianto. He wouldn't hold it against her, and he may even want to talk about it. She could never ask Jack; there were clearly too many emotions at play for both him, her, and Owen.

Ianto looked troubled, and he took his time replying. "I don't know, Tosh," he finally said, his voice quiet and low. "I really don't … it's not like we talk about…well, things. Feelings." He shrugged. "I get it, though. Doing anything to save someone… it's not like I can damn him."

"None of us can," Tosh said quietly, thinking of what'd she'd done for her mother, what Ianto had done for Lisa, and Gwen for Rhys. "Only I guess I…" She wasn't sure what she wanted to say, admit out loud. That she hadn't realized how close Jack and Owen were? She still wasn't sure, which was why it was confusing at times, and it wasn't what she was really worried about, deep down. As he so often did, Ianto knew what she was thinking.

"You wonder if he'd do the same for the rest of us?" She glanced at him in surprise, grateful that he could say what she could not. Ianto sipped at his coffee with a sad look on his face. "I can't stop thinking about it," he whispered. He set down his mug and rubbed at his face. "And I hate myself for it."

"Oh, Ianto," she said, sitting on the edge of the chair and reaching out for his hands. "Of course he'd do the same, especially for you."

He shook his head. "Please don't say that. He cares for all of us, we're his team. The thing is, I don't know if I…well…"

"If you'd want him to bring you back?" Tosh asked, and he nodded. "I don't know either. I always thought I'd die a hero."

"And not stick around for your own funeral?" Ianto asked, a smile pulling at his lips. He took a deep breath. "I'm glad we have Owen, for however much longer we have him, but it won't be easy for him. I don't think I could do it."

"Me neither," she whispered, and he squeezed her hands. "But Owen can."

"But Owen can," said Ianto. He leaned over and picked up his mug, then stood and held out his other hand for Tosh. "Come on, I'll take you home."

"You don't have to," she started, and he held out his elbow for her.

"I want to," he said. "Gwen took Martha back to her hotel, and Owen is talking to Jack. So you're stuck with me."

She laid her head on his shoulder. "Thank you, Ianto," she said softly.

"You're welcome," he said, and they made their way upstairs, to a new normal with Torchwood.

Author's Note:

I realized when I was halfway through this one that it's Ianto in the archives again, only with Tosh instead of Gwen. What can I say, his role of team caretaker, and his friendship with Tosh, is so entrenched in fandom sometimes that it's hard not to go there!