Chapter 2 – Confrontations: "OK, Ianto, you're starting to worry me." Jack gave Ianto a sharp look. "What the hell happened that night?"

"It wasn't that bad... Just let me tell it."

"Fine. Just one thing; am I going to want to go after Rhys for this?"

"Let me tell it."

Gwen drove home, her stomach in knots. Rhys had never been this drunk and this angry at once before. But she hadn't wanted to tell that to Ianto. He'd seemed worried about her. That was nice, someone worrying about her. She'd been sleeping with Owen, and he'd never troubled himself about her. Jack... Jack told her to hold on to her life, not mentioning how damned hard that was. She and Tosh weren't that close, if she were being honest; not close enough to discuss this kind of thing. But she and Ianto... strange. She'd never felt any closer to him than to Tosh. Yet he was easier to talk to. Maybe because he was more perceptive. He and Tosh were the quiet ones, but while Tosh focused on her beloved computers, Ianto learned the little quirks each member of the team had. That went beyond knowing how they took their coffee. She was willing to bet he knew more about them than anyone had ever suspected. But she was thinking about it now.

She realized she was smiling and shook her head. But the second she realized her mood had changed, it reverted back to a bad one. She really, really didn't want to go home tonight. But what was she going to do? Stay at the Hub? She'd already gotten Jack's job; she didn't need to start picking up his habits.

She reached her flat and got out, walking slowly to the door. When had it gotten so bad? When had the Hub begun to feel more like home than her flat did? She didn't know. But it was the truth. The flat no longer felt like home, and Rhys' arms weren't the arms she craved. Where had that come from? She still loved Rhys, even though she'd betrayed him. Her affair with Owen had been about the sex and nothing else, really, though it had made them more friendly even after it ended. It had broken the ice between them, so to speak. So she didn't want Owen. Jack was gone; she wouldn't let herself want him. And... she shook her head rather than continue this train of thought.

Opening the door, she went inside, dreading what was to come. "So, came 'ome after all," Rhys slurred from the couch where he lay sprawled, his shirt off and a beer in his hand.

"Haven't you had enough to drink?"

"No. I want to be pissed."

"I think you already are."

"Oh, do you? Well, I don't, and as I'm the one drinkin' it, it's up to me, I think. You're never around anyway, what gives you the right to lecture me?"

"I'm not always out on purpose!" That was only partially true, but he didn't need to know that.

"Yeah. Sure." He took a swig of beer.

"Rhys, you've had enough!" She strode over and yanked the bottle from his hand.

"What the 'ell! You bloody bitch!" He jumped up and went for the bottle. She stepped back.

"You're going to kill yourself at this rate!"

"Well, that's my lookout! What, don't want to come 'ome to a dead body, Gwennie?"

"Don't call me that!"

"I'll call you what I like!"

"Rhys, just calm down!"

"No, no, I bloody well won't! Let's 'ave it all out now, Gwen. You don't give a damn, not really. You're too busy with your stupid job, swanning off with men in greatcoats when we're supposed to be on a date, coming 'ome at midnight, probably screwing someone behind my back too. Be honest. You don't give a shit about me except when what I do inconveniences you!"

"Rhys, that's not fair! I care about you, I don't -"

"Like 'ell you do! If you did, you'd quit that damned job and be around more! But no, you love that job. You love it more than me, that's for sure!"

She needed to deny it, but could she really do that and be honest? "Rhys... please, calm down."

"Shut up!"

"Rhys - "

"I said, shut up!" And – rather fast for a drunk man – his fist flashed out, connecting with her face. She was knocked to the ground, and she felt the telltale liquid sensation in her nose that heralded a nosebleed. She looked up at Rhys, whose expression had turned from rage to horror.

"Gwen, I - " He shut up when she shook her head. Saying nothing, Gwen stood, and her back ramrod straight, walked into the bedroom. Once there, she found her suitcases and began piling her clothes into them. When she came back out, carrying one and wheeling the other, Rhys paled.

"Gwen, please, I didn't mean it, I'll never do it again, I'll stop drinking, it was the booze, I swear, just please don't leave!"

"I'll be back for the rest of my things later," was all she said, and then she walked out. She went to her car and put the suitcases in the backseat, before getting behind the wheel and driving away. So this is how it ended. Six years, and it ended like this. She was sorry, but only because the end had been so bad. That it had ended... that she could not regret, though she regretted that she couldn't.

She drove without any real purpose, not really thinking about where she was headed. By instinct, she found herself back at the Millenium Centre, back at the Hub. Her nose was bleeding freely now, and she parked, tipping her head back as she groped for the pack of tissues she kept in the glove compartment. Finding them, she pulled one out and held it to her nose, waiting for the bleeding to stop.

Ianto was getting into his car when he heard another car pull in. It was late enough for this to be unusual, so he looked up. The car was Gwen's. He closed his eyes. So he'd been right after all. He walked over and saw that she had her head tipped back and a tissue pressed to her nose. There was also the beginnings of a bruise forming on her cheek. Scowling, he tapped on the window.

Gwen jumped at the tapping sound and then looked to see it was Ianto. She smiled weakly as she took the tissue from her nose – the bleeding had stopped – and rolled the window down. "Hi."

"'Hi'?! Gwen, what happened?"

"Oh, er... I've left Rhys."

"Before or after he hit you?" Ianto's voice was very dry.

"After. That was the last straw."

"And that's all you intend to do? You're not going to press charges?"

"He was drunk, really drunk, worse than I've ever seen him. I don't think he's a danger."

"Gwen, you're being stupid."

"No, I... I just want it over. God, isn't that sad? Six years with Rhys, and all I want is to put that behind me. Like it was all bad. It wasn't, I just... he doesn't get it. He doesn't get me anymore. I don't know that he ever really did."

Ianto opened the door and crouched so he was at her level, placing a hand on her shoulder both to balance himself and comfort her. "Don't beat yourself up over it, all right? It's not your fault."

"But I joined Torchwood! It all started after that."

"I think it would have ended anyway, that Torchwood just sped it up."

"Maybe you're right." She sighed.

"So," Ianto said after a moment, his mind returning as always to the practical, "where are you going to go for the night?"

"D'you know, I didn't really think about it? I guess I planned to sleep in the car."

"Why not come to my place?" Realizing how that sounded, he quickly added, "I've got an extra room, in case any of my many cousins needs a place to stay for a while. Daniel was the last one to come by; he was there nearly two months."

Gwen snorted, then winced as the action sent a wave of pain through her unbroken but tender nose. She smiled at Ianto and said, "Thanks, I will."

"Good," Ianto said briskly, "so let me get in my car, and then you follow me home." Gwen nodded.

The next day, they came in together, but since they came in first, no one knew about it. However, Tosh and Owen were both suspicious of the bruising on Gwen's face and Ianto's oddly touchy mood. When Tosh saw Ianto pulling up CCTV stills of a man in bed whom she recognized as Rhys, she frowned. Ianto printed one out and slipped it into an addressed envelope with a note.

"Ianto, what are you doing?"

"What Torchwood does."

"What?"

"We take care of our own. That's what I'm doing."

"Oh." Well, that was odd. And not something she'd have expected from Ianto. Was something going on she and Owen didn't know about?

A/N: So, Rhys is out! And things move forward. I will discuss the effect of the photo later – and I have to give credit to my math teacher, who told a story in class today involving a similar picture and gave me the idea for Ianto's little message. Sorry I didn't show them at Ianto's flat; I will, but that'll be a chapter by itself, most likely.