1.12.61
The ward was decorated for Christmas the night before Jack's discharge. He had helped them out to prove his health, and the nurses had finally given up on getting him back to bed. Now he sits on an examination table with his shirt off and watches Diane checking readings on her equipment. "What's the prognosis, Doc? Will I ever play the violin?"

"If I had a pound for every time I'd heard that I'd be a wealthy woman." She smiles at him and taps at her screen. "There is nothing preventing you from playing the violin, apart from the fact that you don't have a violin and that you're in my office."

He laughs and raises one shoulder in a shrug. "Maybe I'll rectify that when you finally let me out of here."

"Yes, well, if you could persuade the Director to give me access to your medical records, or answer some of my questions yourself, maybe you wouldn't still be freezing your arse off on my examination table. I might even have let you take the chair," she huffs at him, and it's more exasperated than amused. "I'm working from scratch here, Captain."

"I'm unkillable. What more do you need to know?" He frowns at her. "Why do you call him the Director?"

"Because that's who he is." She gives him another of those looks like she's not sure what to make of him and shakes her head. "He's not the sort of man it's easy to get close to. It's not even easy to find out his name. I know he's called Jones, but that's only because I made out his signature on my contract. You know him better, that's fine, but we haven't a clue. Arms out, please."

He folds them instead and studies the tiles. "He's... He's changed so much."

"Harkness!" She snaps, then throws her arms up and turns away. "Fine, but if you get hurt or ill you're not being treated in my facility until you let me have full medical records, alright?" When he nods, smirking, she starts tidying away her equipment. "You're as bad as he is."

"He learned from the worst," Jack tells her, grinning even though it's the last thing he feels like doing. "Men of mystery – and devilishly attractive."

She slams a drawer shut and fills out the last form. "You're a free man. I dare say we'll see each other if you come back to Torchwood; try to be less annoying, smug and attractive in future." He inclines his head and she goes to open the door for him. "Your lift is in my office."

He pauses in pulling his shirt back on and looks at her curiously. "My lift?"

Diana looks surprised and suspicious. "The Director, of course. Weren't you expecting him?"

"I never know what to expect any more," he admits, refastening his shirt carefully. Diana is still studying him closely and he shrugs it off. "It's complicated."

"It always is." She shuts the door, then closes the lid on her desk and leans back on it. "Are you going to make life here difficult? It's not an accusation, honest. I just want to be prepared."

He smiles back at her. "I've been told that it's never dull when I'm around. Thank you," he adds sincerely, "for looking after me. I know I'm a terrible patient."

"Get on," she shoos him out of the door into the corridor. "Two doors down. Try to make him smile once or twice, will you?"

The corridors are busier at this time of day, and two nurses watch him make his way past Diana's private storeroom and to her office. The walk isn't long enough, so he pauses outside to collect himself and then enters without knocking. Ianto is standing behind the desk, turned away from a watercolour that Jack tentatively identifies as the Valley of the Rocks, and looks Jack over quickly when he enters. "Clean bill of health?"

"Apparently there is nothing stopping me playing the violin," he offers, and Ianto's eyebrow raises slightly. "Were you expecting anything different?"

"Not really," Ianto admits. "I told Director Holbourn that there was no need to keep you in for observation, but she preferred to avoid the paperwork involved in avoiding protocol."

Jack stares at him and realises with an ache just how much things have changed. "You have no idea," he says softly, "just how little sense that makes to me."

"It's how we do things now. We had to get organised to cope with the expansion," he explains. "It wasn't easy without you." Before Jack can decide whether his tone is irritated or regretful, Ianto moves on and picks up a suitcase from by the side of the desk. "I brought you some of your things."

He accepts the suitcase and sets it down on the desk carefully. The zip is new and stiff, but it runs smoothly and he is able to lift the lid and reveal the contents. The sight of the dark wool brings tears to his eyes and he lifts it out carefully and steps back so it can hang to the floor. He clutches it in numb fingers and puts it on, and it is immediately reassuring. "I'm glad it didn't come with me." After all these years it smells of Ianto, not of him, and he wants it to stay that way until Ianto stops being so cold and comes back to him. "You needed it more than I did."

Ianto nods, and Jack doesn't know what that's supposed to mean, and glances at the clock. "Ready to go?"

"Yeah, sure." He shrugs into the coat more comfortably. It settles onto his shoulders as a familiar, reassuring weight, and wraps around him. Ianto is gently cold and Jack keeps expecting him to smirk or wink or call him 'sir' in an insubordinate manner to reassure him that he still cares, but there's nothing. It's been fifty years, Jack reminds himself, and follows Ianto into the corridor, down the stairs and out of the building in an uncomfortable silence.

The medical facility is at one side of the Torchwood campus, giving it - along with the field response centre to its left - the best access to the main road. Ianto leads him around the edge of the accommodation block in the middle, through bare gardens still glittering with the morning's frost, to the far side of the operations centre. Between the operations centre and the research centre is an elegant house in a neo-Georgian style, Ianto's home.

They make their way up the path and Ianto enters without having to unlock the front door first. It opens into a grand entrance hall with stairs rising up to the next floor on the left, and the stairwell is open to the ceiling two floors above. Jack forces a smile and turns back to Ianto. "Nice place. It's... spacious."

"It's too big for us," Ianto agrees. "This way. Steven said he'd stay around to see you."

Jack's heart plummets to his feet and he follows Ianto miserably, forcing himself to show interest and hide the distress that Ianto's words have caused. He'd not considered the idea that Ianto would have moved on, but now that idea seems ridiculous. The room on the left of the hall is the living room, and a tall, handsome man stands from the sofa to greet him. He's smartly dressed in light grey trousers and a lilac shirt, and his hair is greying but still mostly sandy blond. "Jack," he greets him, trepidation and wariness evident in his hesitation. "Ianto told me..."

"I told him everything," Ianto finishes for him. "He deserves to know."

"Of course." He flounders for something to say. "You two..."

He turns bewildered eyes on Ianto, who answers, "Steven's been living with me since... you remember my nephew David?" He nods and Ianto continues, "He was Steven's husband."

"Oh. Oh..." realisation dawns, with a guilt-ridden relief that the relationship is familial rather than romantic, and he looks over to Steven. "I'm sorry for your loss. Both of you," he adds to Ianto. "Was it Torchwood?"

"No. I kept them all out of it." Ianto indicates that he should take a seat in one of the armchairs and settles into the other himself. Steven is on the sofa, surrounded by books. "It was heart failure – congenital. It nearly got three generations, but I took matters into my own hands. They've fixed it now, but it came too late for David and my dad."

"I'm sorry," Jack tells them. He looks at a photo on the bookcase, of Steven and two people he suspects are Ianto's nephew and niece. "And how is Mica?"

"She's the Ambassador to Costa Rica," Ianto tells him with something approaching an emotion. "She married a local, but she's talking of coming back to run for the House of Lords in a couple of years. Their kids are grown and don't need them any more."

Steven looks nervous still, and swallows hard before he speaks. "Mum died twelve years ago. When David died, Ianto was my only family. David and I never had kids, you see. Never had time, and then David was too ill." He smiles across at Ianto and Ianto actually returns it. "We look after each other now."

"That's all that matters," Jack murmurs. "You must need the company during the long Winters up here."

Steven nods and smiles at him warmly, with a touch of teasing. "I'll be glad to hand him back to you, though. I need to trade him in for a younger model; one who doesn't disappear at all hours and return with long lost relatives, preferably."

"Does he make a habit of that?"

"Not really," Steven teases. "I think he's been waiting for the right one. It's good to have you back. Fifty years too late, but he always said you'd come back."

Jack smiles back and glances at Ianto from under his lashes. "Try keeping me away." He would have punched a hole through time to make it back to Ianto, but because he didn't have to he'd come back too late. Ianto is still being distant, so Jack turns his attention to Steven fully. "What do you do? Are you Torchwood?"

"No way," he accepts the change of subject and settles back on the sofa. "I'm lecturing like Mum did, but on Torchwood studies. My students hero worship me – there's not many around still who met the legend that is Captain Harkness, and none in academia."

He looks at him curiously, trying to remember where they might have met, and his eyes widen as hints from the conversation drop realisation into place. Steven looks worried for a moment and then understanding and amusement dawn in his eyes. "You don't recognise me," he laughs. "Uncle Jack..."

Jack pushes to his feet at the same time as Steven and steps around to coffee table to embrace him. Tears sting his eyes and he closes his eyes against them, but Steven's arms are just as tight as his own and he can't stop grinning. "I thought I'd never see you again," he admitted. "Never for a second did I expect to find you here."

Steven laughs again and holds him even tighter. "I should have expected that." He pulls back and looks at Jack properly, giving Jack the opportunity to study him. "I guess I've changed since I was ten. It's a long story, though." Releasing Jack, he turns to Ianto and pulls a very familiar pleading face. "Coffee, please, Ianto?"

Ianto inclines his head and heads out of the room, and Jack is happy enough for the moment to bury his concern and clear the textbooks off the sofa so that he can sit down.

9.6.59
"I feel like I'm betraying him," Steven admitted quietly. "Am I doing the right thing?"

"He wanted you to be happy, and you're not going to manage that here, not yet," Ianto reassured him. "A change of scenery will do you good."

Steven glared at him half-heartedly. "Like you can talk. You'd never have left Cardiff if it weren't for the return of the Rift victims."

"No," he agreed calmly. "And waiting for him has nearly destroyed me. I can't see that happen to you as well – I promised David that I'd take care of you."

He laughed weakly and wiped his eyes. "Well, I looked after you for long enough. Oh, Ianto. I miss him."

"I know." Ianto stepped forwards and rested his hand on Steven's shoulder, turning him away from his last look at the house he'd shared with his husband for the twenty four years of their marriage. "It will get easier."

"Anytime soon?" he asked hopefully.

Ianto smiled sadly and looked into the distance. "Even if it were, it wouldn't feel it."

Steven choked and shook his head, giving Ianto another watery smile. "You're hopeless, you know that? That was your opportunity to be reassuring and tell me it'll stop hurting."

"It will." He dropped his hand and tucked it back in his pocket. "But you have to be ready for it to stop."

He swallowed hard and nodded. His hand closed around the keys and he held them out to Ianto. "Let's get this to the estate agents and then... I need to go to..."

"Are you sure you're ready for that?" Ianto asked gently. "We can stay a few days more, if you need to."

"No, no..." He glanced back at the house once more and squared his shoulders. "I have to do this."

Ianto drove to the estate agents' office and circled the block a few times whilst Steven went in to hand over the keys and the notepad of instructions he'd left on the house, as well as the furniture he'd left behind. As he was moving back in with Ianto he'd either left or sold everything, apart from a desk that he'd inherited from his mother, who had inherited it from her mother, and the grandfather clock that had been an anniversary gift to David's parents from Jack and Ianto, fifty years before. They had been safely delivered to Ianto's house, along with all the clothes, books and trinkets he'd chosen to keep, and everything the new owners had bought with the house were clearly marked, ready for the house clearance company to come in the next day and clear the rest.

He'd done most of the organisation for Steven, encouraging each decision out of him and then taking care of the details. It was easier that way, and every day Steven had taken the decisions a little more easily. Ianto wished that someone had been able to do the same for him after he lost Jack, but they were all so certain that he'd come back, no one had even considered it. Even now, their Cardiff home was swathed in dust cloths and plastic, waiting for them to return and let in the life again.

Steven emerged from the estate agents looking pale but calm just as Ianto rounded the corner again, and he pulled into the bus stop in front of the office to let him in and pulled away without another word before the next bus came along. He had to follow road signs to the municipal cemetery on the edge of town where David had chosen to be buried, even though he'd been there too many times by now. David had said that they had chosen Nottingham as their home, and that he wanted to stay here rather than return to his native Cardiff. So he lay in one of the regimented rows, a respectable distance from his nearest neighbour.

They parked close to the cemetery gates and strolled along the tranquil paths, past elegant memorials and marked benches, through avenues of saplings and away from the ancient yews of the churchyard and the weather-worn graves over which they stood sentinel. Bright flowers tumbled from flowerbeds and vases, and cherry trees scattered their pale petals across the path. David's grave was at the end of a row, under the shade of a sycamore, a fresh pile of earth and a simple wooden marker until it settled and they could place the neatly carved gravestone.

Ianto hung back and let Steven go on alone to give him privacy, and turned away to watch blossom drift from the trees. When he turned back, Steven was crouched in front of the grave with shoulders bowed and the fingers of one hand resting on the dry earth. They held the tableau for long minutes whilst a blackbird sang, and then Steven straightened up and got slowly to his feet, turned back to Ianto and trudged across the grass. "He's here," Steven said when he was close enough for Ianto to hear. "I know he is. And now..." he sniffed and wiped away his tears again. "Now I have to start moving on."

"He'll always be here when you need him," Ianto offered, and offered his arm at the same time.

Steven laughed, but slipped his arm through Ianto's and let him set a measured pace back through the graveyard. "He was always a terrible listener – I don't see how him being dead will change that."

"Well..." Ianto squeezed his arm and looked back at his nephew's resting place once more. "At least he won't interrupt you any more."

5.8.16
Ianto opened the door and studied the stranger on his doorstep. The boy was tall and gangly, and looked like he'd become suddenly taller and ganglier very recently. The band-branded T shirt he wore was obviously a well-worn favourite, probably the survivor of gigs and festivals, but it wasn't quite long enough any more. Messy blond hair nearly hid nervous blue eyes, and he flicked it off his face with a look of despondency. "Hi," he greeted him hesitantly. "I... my mum must have given me the wrong address, sorry... unless he's moved. I don't suppose you know of a Jack Harkness?"

He tightened his grip on the edge of the door and studied the boy's face. "Steven Carter?"

"I... yeah." He shifted a backpack higher on his shoulder and looked more hopeful. "Are you... Are you my uncle Jack's partner?"

"His husband, yes." Ianto stepped back and opened the door fully. "You'd better come in. How did you get into the building?"

"I helped Mrs Kendrick with her shopping," Steven explained with a sheepish smile, kicking his trainers off next to the neat line of shoes in the hall. "She kept me talking for ever. I know I should have used the intercom, but she was there, and I wanted to surprise him."

Ianto sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Have a seat. Do you want a drink? Coffee, tea, whisky?"

"Oh, tea please." He sat down, perching on the edge of one of the cushions on the sofa, avoiding Tybalt in the armchair, and clutched his bag between his knees. "White, one sugar."

He nodded and crossed to the kitchen area to put the kettle on and retrieve a small teapot and the caddy of leaf tea. "It's not quick," he apologised, "but I like to do everything properly." He filled the teapot and set it on a tray with a mug, a teaspoon and tea strainer, and the milk bottle and brought it over to set it on the coffee table in front of Steven. "I'll let you fix it how you like it. Jack says I put too much milk in it."

Steven grinned and made his tea with a much smaller amount of milk than Ianto would have used. He stirred it once and sucked the spoon clean, then set the spoon down sheepishly. "Sorry, bad habit." He sipped his tea and closed his eyes. "Wow. Proper tea is nice."

"It makes a difference," Ianto agreed. He watched Steven watching him and broached the subject that was puzzling him. "Steven, you said you came here looking for Jack. Why?"

He sighed and hugged the mug close to his chest. "I'm gay, and Mum... is struggling with it, a bit. She doesn't know what to say or what advice to give, so she said that Uncle Jack would know better and that I should come and see him. I should have called ahead, I'm sorry. It's just been..." He waved a hand, and Ianto understood what he meant. "So she gave me your address and put me on a train this morning. Parents, eh?"

Ianto nodded and licked his lips nervously. He waited until Steven had put his mug down before he started again. "The thing is, Jack..." he hesitated and closed his eyes to say it, "Jack isn't here."

When he opened his eyes, Steven looked upset. "You don't mean that he's out at work, do you? He's... Is he alive?"

He nodded, then shook his head, and then nodded again. "I thought... your mum must know. I thought she'd have said something. He's Captain Jack Harkness, the missing leader of Torchwood." Steven looked confused. "You don't know anything about that?"

"No... well, I know about Torchwood, obviously, but..." He twisted his hands in his lap and searched Ianto's face. "I was only in year seven, I didn't pay any attention, and Mum never said Jack was involved. What... what happened?"

"I... it's too hard to explain," he offered apologetically. "I have... here..." He went to retrieve his computer and sat on the sofa next to Steven, brought up the Wikipedia article and passed it over to him. "One of my friends makes sure that it's all true. I'm not allowed to."

"Why not?"

"Because I have periods of wanting to delete myself from the record," he admitted quietly. "They think I should stay there."

Steven read the account in silence, with wide eyes that glistened with tears. When he was finished he set the computer aside and turned to watch Ianto instead. "I have real live heroes for uncles," he said at last with a weak smile. "I never knew... Christ. It's a miracle you survived."

"I've had medical care beyond what this planet can provide," he answered the question that no one ever dared to ask. "We have friends in interesting places."

"There have to be some perks," Steven said, smiling shyly. "And he left you his coat."

"Yeah. It looked after me, I'll look after it." He stood suddenly and returned the laptop to the desk. "I'm not Jack, but I am married to him, so maybe I'll be able to help you instead. You look like you packed for a few days."

"I can stay somewhere else," Steven offered quickly. "There's a few youth hostels..."

"Nonsense." Ianto stuffed his hands in his pockets and glanced at the hall cupboard. "You're family. Let's get you settled in, for starters."

27.8.16
Alice turned up right on the dot of one, as she'd arranged, and gave Ianto a tight smile in greeting. She was wearing smart trousers and a simple silk blouse, dressing to impress. "Thank you for having Steven, Mr Jones. I had no idea that Jack was missing; I would never have suggested it if I'd known."

"I've enjoyed having him," Ianto assured her. "The place is too quiet normally. If you don't mind me asking, though, Jack's disappearance was all over the news..."

"Not in Brazil," she answered. "I went abroad for a few years to lecture in English in Rio, and apart from Steven I didn't keep in touch with anyone in the UK at all."

"Steven did say he was at boarding school." Ianto led her through to the living room, where Steven was sitting next to the coffee table with Tybalt sprawled next to him purring like an engine. "I think Tybalt will be sad to see Steven go."

"Only Tybalt?" Steven teased. "Hi, Mum."

She relaxed somewhat when she saw Steven's grin and went over to stroke Tybalt. "He's beautiful. How old is he?"

"Seven now." Ianto stopped next to them on his way to the kitchen. "I got him as a kitten when I moved to London and had to leave Jack behind for a while. He puts up with a lot from me."

Alice smiled back and rested her hand on Steven's head. "Are you ready to come home and spend some time with me, now?"

"I think so." He got to his feet and looked over at Ianto. "You could come and visit some time, now we're settled in an actual house."

He looked between them and saw the agreement in Alice's expression before he nodded at Steven. "I'd like that. And I'd like to have you both to stay some time... if you want to. Maybe over Christmas?"

"Maybe," she agreed. "For now, let me buy you lunch? To say thank you for having him, and to get to know each other."

Ianto hesitated, but Steven looked hopefully at him and he relented. "Thank you, that sounds great. And no, Steven, you're not allowed to take him with you."

Steven laughed and set Tybalt back on the floor. "One day, Uncle Ianto. One day."

21.4.35
The day of the wedding came with patchy clouds and brief bursts of sunshine. Ianto sat on the terrace with Alice and Rhiannon, sipping from a glass of wine and enjoying the quiet company. David and Steven were making the rounds of the tables hand-in-hand, sitting to talk with their friends and relatives and, in David's case, stealing abandoned glasses of wine when he thought Steven wasn't looking. "They wasted so much time," Rhiannon said eventually, watching them talking to some of David's colleagues. "All the years they've known each other."

"They've been together for most of them," he pointed out, smiling at the memories. "They never wasted a day. I knew when David moved in with me that if they left, they'd leave together."

Alice reached across and touched his hand. "Are you going to be alright on your own up there? You'll be a long way from anyone else."

"I'll be fine," he assured her, covering her hand with his own. "The team are a family, they'll look after me if I need it."

She gave him a look that said that she thought he always needed looking after and squeezed his hand. "Well, if you ever need the company, I'm still looking for an excuse to retire."

David and Steven reached them and sat down in the spaces left by Johnny going to the bar and Mica having to rush to get her flight back to Costa Rica. They were beaming from ear to ear and looked as if they couldn't have stopped if they tried. "Hi," Steven greeted them, bumping shoulders with Ianto comfortably. "Is this the sedate table?"

"I bet you've said that to all of them," Rhiannon scoffed. "This is what happens when you leave it until you're forty to get married. Everyone else gets old as well."

"You're not old, Mam," he assured her. "I'm sure when the DJ starts up you'll be on the dance floor, body popping with the best of them."

Rhiannon gave him a bemused look and turned to her son. "You haven't actually got a DJ, have you?"

"No, Mam." He grinned and hugged Steven closer. "I wouldn't let him. We've got a string quartet instead."

"Oh, lovely. I remember the strings at Ianto's wedding..." She stopped abruptly and turned back to him. "I'm sorry pet."

He ignored Steven rolling his eyes and smiled at her. "Don't be. It was the best day of my life. We should have weddings more often."

"What we should do," Steven suggested, "is celebrate your silver wedding anniversary. It's this June, isn't it?"

"It was last year," he corrected quietly. "I wasn't up to celebrating it."

Steven bit his lip, but David pulled his phone out of his pocket and bent over it. "In that case we'll celebrate your... original pictures anniversary," he said at last. "Original pictures, what on Earth?"

"Twenty eight is better," Steven commented, leaning over to look. "We could leave it two years and celebrate your orchid anniversary."

Ianto blinked away the sting in his eyes and laughed. "I don't really feel like celebrating without him. Sorry. You missed my fiftieth birthday, though."

"Well then, we'll celebrate that," Steven decided. "And... maybe lie about your age."

"Maybe. Anyway, enough about me," he deflected. "This is your day. Is it everything you wanted?"

They looked at each other and their smiles softened. "It's been perfect," David answered for them both. "Even the weather has held off for us. I wish we'd done it ten years ago – twenty, even."

"Twenty years ago we were idiots." Steven rested his chin on David's shoulder from behind and rubbed their cheeks together. "Ten years ago we were idiots."

"Yesterday we were idiots, and I don't see it changing any time soon." He leaned back against Steven and closed his eyes. "It will be strange, coming back to Nottingham instead of Edinburgh. We might be able to understand the locals."

Ianto smiled back and ran his thumb along the underside of his wedding band, tracing the silver band through it. "Edinburgh will definitely be quiet without you," he offered, deadpan. "I might even get some sleep. Have you warned your new neighbours?"

"I don't think I want to know," Alice laughed. She raised her glass towards David and Steven. "Congratulations, again."

"Thanks, Mum." David leaned over and hugged her. "We're all one big incestuous family now."

19.6.59
Ianto sat in Steven's recently vacated chair and smiled at David, trying to be calm and reassuring when he just wanted to cry. He still looked young, but his skin was pale and the lines around his eyes were tight with pain. "How are you feeling?" he asked, voice whisper soft in the stillness of the room.

"Like crap." David chuckled. Even that soft laugh wore him out, and he lay back into the pillows, rolling his eyes at the ceiling. "I should stop doing that. Should have learned by now."

"You wouldn't be you if you learned from your mistakes," Ianto told him dryly. He flicked his gaze over David's face again. "The doctors are worried."

"The doctors know I'm probably not going to last the night," David corrected him. "I know it, you know it. Steven won't accept it." He reached for Ianto's hand and held it as tightly as he could. "You look after him, alright? Take him back to Edinburgh; it'll do you both good. You're too quiet these days."

"I miss you both." He blinked back tears and rubbed his thumb over the back of David's hand. "Mica's on her way. You have to wait for her."

"Fine, I'll wait." He closed his eyes and rested his head against the pillows. "I'm so tired, Ianto."

"I know." He stood up and leaned over to kiss David's forehead. "Get some sleep. We'll be right here."

Mica and Alex arrived a few hours later, rumpled and bleary-eyed still from the plane journey. The room was small, but it seemed to loom large around the four of them clustered around the bed. David woke up when they arrived, told them he was glad to see them and that he felt like crap, admonished them to look after Steven and Ianto for him, and Alex to look after Mica as well, and then went back to sleep. At that point Steven started crying, fat tears rolling unheeded down his cheeks, and he held tight to David's hands with both of his own, as if that would keep him there.

At half past nine, David's hand relaxed in Steven's and his chest fell still. He'd grown weary of transplants that his body rejected, drugs that didn't work and operations that hurt more than they helped, and he'd issued a DNR. Being David, it had been nearly a month before it came into play, but as the doctor noted down a time of death, gave them his condolences and left, Steven folded forwards to rest his forehead on the bed and wept.