Ianto doesn't know what's happening until it's too late and Jack is throwing himself over the railing. Ianto's teacup shatters on the floor as he hops himself, still secured to the chair, over to see Jack lying in a pool of blood, broken on the floor three stories below. The chair is in splinters, which was Jack's intent. Ianto hates it, has always hated seeing Jack die, but it was the most expedient answer. Now there's nothing to do but wait, watching until Jack revives.

It always seems to take forever, but it's only a few minutes until Jack's broken bones start to rejoin and straighten, until his neck aligns and the collapsed side of his skull fills out. Soon he gasps back to life, flailing as Ianto hasn't seen since Jack first came back from his time with the Doctor, back before he got used to having Ianto there when he revived. The tape is still tight around Jack's wrists, and his torso and ankles are still attached to what's left of the chair, but he's mobile. They could have wasted time trying to pick or cut their way out of the tape, but Jack has accomplished it in moments, and while his wrists are still bound, he's now able to move about, which will make things easier. He stretches as well as he can, the snaps and pops of his final alignment echoing softly in the cavernous space.

"I'll be right up," Jack calls as he rushes to the staircase that will bring him back to the control center, the clanging of his boots on the metal risers reminding Ianto of the Hub. While he climbs, he starts to tug at the tape securing the chair back to his midsection.

"Don't bother," Ianto calls. "Porcelain is sharp enough, just break a saucer." He resists the urge to tell Jack that they could have started with this tactic, though it would have taken longer and they'd likely have cut themselves in the process.

It works beautifully. Jack hands Ianto a shard of Flora Danica and works his wrists free on it, then turns his attention to freeing Ianto.

Jack is bent over trying to cut the tape off Ianto's ankles without leaving him bleeding, which puts his face right in Ianto's groin, and he's… sniffing? When he looks up, his pupils have gone wide. Even in a crisis, Jack can't seem to keep his libido in check.

"God damn it, Jack! Get your head in the game. I swear to you, when we get through this and save the world, you can bend me over anything you like and shag me into oblivion, but for now, fucking concentrate on the task at hand!"

Ianto snorts at how quickly Jack finishes cutting him loose after that. He hadn't meant to proposition Jack, he's still not sure how he feels about the man, but there's no denying that it was an effective tactic. Once they're both free, attention is turned to the business of reconnaissance. Jack wants to stay and fight, of course, but Ianto manages to convince him that going after Missy with just the two of them is likely to get Ianto killed. Again. They need to gather all the intel they can, then get out.

"I need to show you something," Ianto says. Jack needs to see the coral. Whatever Missy is doing, and Ianto can't imagine what that might be, it must have something to do with the coral. Having memorized the floor plan, Ianto knows how to get back to that room, so he leads Jack through the corridors, pointing out the working parts and the safety features along the way.

"How do you know this?" Jack wants to know.

It's an old game of theirs, so Ianto answers in the traditional way, "I know everything." He pauses for effect, then continues. "Also, I did a report on the Uskmouth plant in Newport when I was in primary. They're very similar. The turbines are over there, that's what turns the generator. Steam powered. In this day and age, we're still using steam to make electricity. Even in nuclear plants, it's all about steam. I was so disappointed as a child; I was hoping for something modern and shiny."

"Except that there's no steam. No heat at all anywhere I've been, yet I can hear the turbines running. What's powering the station?"

"I think we should find out. Let's go take a look at the turbines."


Jack is down. Not dead this time, not even unconscious, but not there. Having had his own panic attack earlier in the day, Ianto is intimately acquainted with the signs. Jack's face is pale, his eyes glassy. His breath comes shallow and quick, and he's backed himself against a wall, shivering.

Ianto isn't sure what triggered Jack, just that they'd been looking into the turbine chamber when Jack saw a sphere and started backing away from the glass. At the same moment, the sphere opened up somehow and giggled, swooping toward them.

"Pretty Jack, come to play? We've missed you, pretty Jack. What have you brought us? You know how we like your friends, pretty Jack!"

The turbines, previously a low, rumbling hum, sped up to an alarming whine, and then CHUNK! stopped abruptly. Thick steel doors slammed down over the viewing windows, and Ianto could hear the clicking of locks engaging. The lights went out, then backups came on.

The station is in safety lockdown. They're stuck until the system resets, and Jack is currently curled up in the corner, white as snow, shivering and crying softly.

"Jack," Ianto says softly, kneeling next to the man. "Jack, it's me. Ianto. Everything is all right, you're safe." Jack doesn't respond, but doesn't resist as Ianto sits next to him and pulls Jack's head into his lap, stroking his hair gently. "Come on, Jack, talk to me. You wanted answers. We have time now, just come back."

"Ianto?" Jack whispers. "I had the most wonderful dream you were real. Then it turned into a nightmare like always, but first I dreamed I got you back. And I'm dreaming again, I suppose, but I don't mind."

"I'm real. I assure you."

"That's what you always say just before I wake up."

How is Ianto supposed to counter that, he wonders. "Don't be daft. If this were coming out of your subconscious we'd be naked by now."

Jack is becoming more lucid. As his eyes clear and focus, he sits up, leaning against the wall without breaking contact with Ianto.

"I suppose you're right. So…you're alive? Really, truly alive? You said something about Cybermen, before."

So Ianto tells him. Tells him the whole story, from waking up in Torchwood Four to taking over the Retrievals team. From his fears about the Cyber implant to his conflict about leaving his old life behind.

He never contacted his family, only tracking them via their accounts to make certain they were all right. They had received his estate and death benefit- they must have been shocked at the amount, having believed him to be a tourism employee- and used it to move off the estate, to send David and Mica to a better school. He's manipulated data to get Johnny a better job, and Rhi is taking accounting classes at night. Ianto's 'death' may have been the best thing that ever happened to them, as Ianto recounts to Jack. Everything else, Ianto abandoned. His flat, his hidden accounts, his secure logins to government websites, all left untouched. In five years, he's not so much as set foot in Cardiff. He never even visited Gwen, the one person who might have accepted his resurrection, in order to keep Torchwood Four a secret.

He leaves nothing out; they have hours before the drive shaft on the turbine cools off enough for things to start up again. Jack starts to steer the conversation toward Ianto's personal life. He thinks he's being subtle, but that's never been one of Jack's strengths.

"If you want to know, just ask," Ianto finally says, exasperated.

Jack purses his lips. He waits, as if considering whether he really wants the answer. Finally, he decides. "Are you seeing anyone?"

"That's your question? The missing branch of Torchwood brought me back to life using the technology you almost shot me for bringing onto your base, and you want to know about my sex life? Fine. No. I'm not seeing anyone right now."

"But you were?" Jack seems insecure first, then upset. "Did you even think about contacting me? I missed you so much, Ianto, and you were off with someone else!"

Now Ianto's angry in that irrational way he always is when he knows he's in the wrong. No, he never tried to contact Jack. He could have. He knows Jack came back a few times, yet Ianto didn't even try. To reach out to Jack was to face rejection. He lashes out with, "And how long before you moved on? Was I even cold before you started shagging some alien like you always did in your stories? You never wanted to be a couple, were you glad to be free of me?"

Jack looks at him sadly. "It was three years before I slept with anyone."

Oh. Ianto hadn't waited nearly that long. "You said 'don't'," Ianto accuses. Jack is watching him now, eyes full of sorrow and regret. Ianto keeps going, he has to get it all out before he loses his nerve. "I was dying, I told you I loved you, and you said don't, like I was breaking some unspoken Jack Harkness rule. Like I wasn't allowed to claim even that much of you. That's what I took into the dark with me. What was I supposed to think? You refused to clarify our relationship, told stories of your other conquests, flirted with everything that moved and some things that didn't, and then, as I was dying in your arms, couldn't even tell me that you loved me back. Why didn't I try to contact you? You'd already broken my heart. I didn't know if they could restart it again."

"I'm sorry." He squeezes Ianto's hand. "I've spent five years regretting that. Every day I wished I could take it back." His thumb is stroking Ianto's knuckles now, more soothing than it should be. "I didn't mean it like that. I couldn't bear to lose you, couldn't admit that you weren't going to make it."

They're talking about it. Finally talking about it, as Ianto had imagined so many times when he replayed the moment in his head. "I never thought I was enough for you. Most of the time you treated me as a convenient distraction- 'Pizza, Ianto, save the world a FEW times'- what was I supposed to think?"

"I didn't know you heard that."

"So it was all right to imply to Gwen, of all people, that I was nothing more than something to do while she was away as long as I never knew about it? It was OK to give her whatever she wanted, to share longing looks, as long as you did it behind closed doors? I knew everything that ever happened in the Hub, Jack! There were no secrets!" Ianto can't seem to stop. It's been building up for five years. Longer, actually. Before he died, he'd not said anything, afraid to lose what little of Jack's affections he could claim. Now, though, now he has nothing to lose but his anger. It all comes out, every time Jack denied their relationship to someone, every time he refused to define what they were, every time Jack pushed Ianto away because he was focused on someone else. Finally, Ianto tells him how he died inside every time.

Jack looks stricken. "I didn't know," he repeats. "God, Ianto, I didn't know. Why didn't you tell me you were hurting?"

"And risk you pushing me away? You were the only thing I had. It was better not knowing how little I meant than to ask and find out the truth."

"And then when you finally risked it, dying, I hurt you." Jack takes a deep breath, turning to take Ianto's hand. "I fucked up. I fucked up so much. I can't- Can you forgive me? For not giving you what you deserved, for not making sure you knew how much I cared?"

"I'm… not sure," Ianto says, pulling his hand away. Maybe once he wouldn't have hesitated. Once he would have jumped at anything Jack offered. Back then, he'd have forgiven Jack in an instant, but he's not that man anymore. He's been dreaming of Jack, missing Jack, for five years, but he's learned to be alone. He values himself and his hard-won self-assurance too much to blindly accept less than he deserves. If he's ever with Jack again, it will be as his equal, nothing less.

"You hurt me, Jack. Carelessly and repeatedly. I can't do that again. I'm worth more than that."

"You are."

"And when I die again? I will, you know. Whether today when this all goes tits-up, or when I'm old and grey-"

"You're already grey," Jack points out, reaching out to ruffle Ianto's hair. Ianto resists the temptation to lean into Jack's touch.

"Yes. I'm aging. That's the reality. I don't look like your twink anymore. In a decade I'll look older than you. How long will you want me? If I live long enough, people will think you're my son. Can you handle that? Will you stay? Because I'm not going to waste what life I have on you if you're going to disappear when I stop being pretty. If you don't actually love me, then there will never be anything between us again." There it is, all laid out. He was afraid of rejection before, but he's stronger now, in this at least.

Jack is quiet. Ianto starts to wonder if this is where it ends, for real and for good. He's not afraid of it now. He'll be sad, but his life will go on, and someday maybe he'll be able to put Jack out of his mind. He's still young; maybe he'll take Torchwood up on their offer of resettling. He'll go somewhere he's never been, maybe find someone who wants to settle down, start a family.

Still nothing from Jack. Before, Ianto would have have walked away, made assumptions, let Jack get away with not talking, not defining anything. He's not willing to do that anymore.

"Answer me, Jack. When I die this time, will you say 'Don't' again? Will you even be there?"

Jack hasn't said anything in so long that Ianto's not sure if he's listening at all. This entire exchange has been conducted without looking at each other, staring at the wall across the room with its faded safety diagrams and reminder to turn off the lights when they leave the room. He sneaks a look to the side. Jack's eyes are closed, his cheeks wet with tears.

When Jack speaks, his voice is ragged. "I love you, Ianto. I loved you then, but I was a coward. I'd have given anything to save you; I tried, you know. Tried to kiss you back to life like I did after Lisa threw you."

"You what?" Ianto remembers being thrown, remembers returning to consciousness with Jack's mouth on his, but he couldn't have been-

"Kissed you back to life. You were dead then. Not breathing, no heartbeat. I kissed you, poured all my excess life into you, and you came back. I thought I could do it again, that there was no need for deathbed confessions when we could be together properly. Only I couldn't. I was dying too, without enough life to give away."

"I'm sorry," Ianto says.

"For what?"

"Dying like that."

Jack throws an arm around his shoulder and pulls him close. "Just don't do it again." Jack kisses the top of Ianto's head; Ianto nuzzles against Jack's neck. He can't forgive Jack yet, but at least now he wants to.

"Won't." he whispers, hoping it's true, at least for a little while. "What now? Suppose I forgive you? You haven't answered any of my questions."

"I have some questions too. Things changed for me; I'm different now."

Despite their situation, their unsettled relationship, Jack's hand is creeping its way past Ianto's waistband. "Not that different," Ianto says with a smirk and a pointed look down.

"No, I suppose not."

They sit like that, nestled together like they used to at the Hub after a rough day, not talking, just taking comfort in each other's presence, until Ianto thinks Jack has enough detachment to ask, "So what is that thing in the turbine room? Why did it trigger the lockdown?" He's not going to mention Jack's panic attack. He's not.

Jack goes very still. "Toclafane. Remember those things I told you about, come from the end of the universe to kill us all? Those were Toclafane, and one of them is in there. It's a paradox, somehow outside of the year we reset."

Ianto asks what that means and Jack explains that during the year he was gone, the Doctor's Tardis had been gutted, mutilated and rebuilt as a paradox machine so that the Toclafane, who were future humans, were able to come into the past and kill their ancestors. Without that buffer, the resulting paradox would have ripped the universe apart. The destruction of the paradox machine reset the timeline to a point before the Master's creations came through. They never existed here. The Toclafane in the turbine room had somehow been pulled away from that paradox and is now a refugee from an alternate timeline, forcing the two realities to coexist- almost a mini-paradox.

This is the Master's energy source. While the effect of a single Toclafane isn't as dramatic as the paradox of the year that was reset, the non-thermal expansion of two realities repelling each other is more than enough to power the station. But when Jack, who was a part of both timelines, arrived, the paradox, and thus the pressure, increased, spinning the turbines faster and faster.

Ianto doesn't really understand the cause, but the effect is clear. "It must have started overloading the generator. The turbines locked, the blast doors shut to keep the increasing pressure from blowing the windows, and interior doors locked just in case that wasn't enough to keep the turbine room from exploding."

"That from your primary school report?"

Ianto elbows Jack in the ribs. "That's from a passing knowledge of mechanics, gained in the last year from taking mechanical things apart. The Cybermen aren't steam powered, but there's a generator in there. There's a team studying how to overload it, but so far we haven't figured anything out."

"I still can't believe you're alive because of Cybermen."

"Ironic, yeah? I don't think I'll ever get used to the idea." Ianto says. He's had five years, after all, and he still goes cold thinking about it. When he asked about possible removal, the medical team was willing to try, but informed him that he risked brain damage. Ianto left it alone, and is still trying to make peace with it.

Jack's hand settles on Ianto's thigh. Just resting, not groping or roaming. "I'm glad it happened, though."

"Me too."

Ianto still doesn't know where they will go from here, but for now he's comfortable sitting quietly with Jack. They've both said what they need to say, and now it's time to let it sink in. There will be time later to decide if they have a future together. Right now there's work to do.


AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is actually only half of what I intended for this chapter, but I was having trouble with the second part, and a natural break point presented itself. So off it went to Gmariam, who made brilliant suggestions and accidentally made me dislike a paragraph enough that I wanted to rewrite it, but couldn't figure out how. Cue the indecision and avoidance. The chapter split was originally intended to get this to you faster, and totally didn't at all.