A few hours later John Hart had finally been dealt with – sent back to wherever he'd come from – and the team were preparing to find a place to lay low for the next twenty-four hours. The force of returning Captain John Hart back through the rift had thrown them all back to the moment he had first materialised the previous evening, and they couldn't run the risk of coming into contact with themselves. They were all aware of what the potential devastating consequences of two timelines colliding might be.

Jack was still proving a great cause for concern for them all. His skin was a few shades paler than its usual complexion, and his gait still betrayed his pain. He needed a place to rest – and his wounds would almost certainly need fresh dressings by now. Owen could see that he was very obviously dehydrated, and he was beginning to appear rather unsteady on his feet. He'd lost a lot of blood, and was continuing to lose fluid from his many open wounds. It was imperative that they get another IV into him as soon as possible – he needed fluids, and possibly blood – and Owen thought that he would probably appreciate some painkillers too. He'd never been too sure how effective the medication he gave him was at treating Jack's ills – he frequently refused to take any at all, stating that there were those who needed it a lot more than him – but a broken back, several fractured ribs, and extensive soft tissue damage was a lot more serious than a tension headache and Owen couldn't, on this occasion, stand back and do nothing at all.

Before he'd disappeared the Captain, it seemed, had still had one final trick up his sleeve however – one final chance to leave a lasting and devastating impact on Jack, as if he hadn't been through enough already.

"Oh and by the way, I've found Grey…" He'd said, as tendrils of rift energy surrounded him – licking hungrily at his face and body.

Jack's face had fallen – his eyes wide with shock.

As the Rift had finally closed around John Hart – wisps of the vortex energy wrapping themselves around his arms and legs like shackles preventing his escape - Jack had turned, rather stiffly, to look at them all. Owen had noticed that as he turned he did so with his whole body – seeming to prefer not to move his neck. Evidently it wasn't just a sore back he was suffering from then – he'd probably sustained some whiplash from the initial impact with the bench, Owen theorised.

"Who's Grey?" Gwen asked him, quietly.

"It's nothing…" Jack replied – unwittingly shaking his head, and immediately regretting the motion. "Let's get back to work." He sighed.

As he started walking away however he suddenly stiffened and fell to his knees, his back arched as his face contorted into what could only be described as a look of absolute agony. Owen immediately raced to his side.

"Jack?" He asked him, instantly concerned as he placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and bent down beside him. He noticed that he was pale and shaking, and that there was a thin sheen of sweat upon his brow. There was also a faint odour emanating from the wounds to his back.

"We need to change your dressings." He sighed.

"I'm fine." Jack insisted, brushing off his teams concern with a weak wave of his hand. "It's nothing…" Although he gasped and a shiver ran through his body as he tried to get back up.

"Jack, you need to rest!" Owen insisted. "You need somewhere to stay for the night… someone to keep an eye on you." He explained to him, un-swayed by Jack's apparent reluctance to accept the fact that he needed help. "You can't go back to the Hub, whilst there's still the risk of you running into yourself."

"I've told you all," Jack snapped as he finally made it to his feet, "I'm fine!"

"He can stay at my place." Ianto said.

The team turned to look at the young Welshman. Gwen frowned. The whole time Jack had been away Ianto had been the one who'd suffered the most as a result of his departure, but there was no trace of the anger or resentment they might have expected to see upon his face. In fact quite the opposite. He'd appeared genuinely concerned by Jack's distressed phone call telling them what Captain John Hart had done to him earlier in the evening, and hadn't left his side since they had found him.

He'd held Jack close whilst Owen had tended to his wounds, cuddling him close, and whispering reassuring words into his ear. It was almost as though their Captain had never been away.

They could only suppose that Ianto's love for Jack really did run deep.

The team's unwelcome attention obviously didn't sit well with Ianto however and he instantly blushed and averted their gaze uncomfortably.

"Well," He faltered, clearing his throat and swallowing hard to try and dispel the lump in his throat, "I know that I'm not going to be going back to my flat anytime this evening don't I, so there's no chance of us being run into… and I have plenty of spare room… it's warm, and tidy, and in quite a quiet and suitably boring location." He smiled.

But Owen shook his head.

"We still can't run the risk." He said. "Ianto you may not have gone back to your flat in the last twenty-four hours, but we can't count on the you in this current timeline not doing so. Things can change, and when they do people's actions and motives often change with them…"

"Then I'll book a hotel!" Ianto said. He looked over at Jack, who had only taken a couple more steps but looked as close to collapse as he had ever seen him. Owen too appeared to notice the young man's concerned expression, and glancing at Jack quickly moved a little closer – ready to steady him if he fell again.

"We really need to get you somewhere where we can lie you down." He said, as he observed him critically. From his close proximity he could feel the heat radiating from his body, indicative of fever. He hadn't felt too warm a few hours ago when he'd last examined him, and Owen began to wonder whether the same process which allowed Jack to heal faster and also revive from death could also speed up the development of infection.

He felt a slight pang of anxiety in the pit of his stomach as this thought occurred to him – if this was the case they also needed to get some antibiotics into him quickly.

Jack opened his mouth as though he was going to protest, but Owen put a hand up to silence him.

"It's settled Jack." The young doctor told him. "Ianto will book you both into a hotel and stay with you tonight. I want to take another look at your wounds and get another IV going, after that I'll leave some spare dressings with Ianto just in case your dressings need replacing again in the night, and I will pop by to check on you again in the morning. Hopefully by then the risk will have passed, and we can all go home."

"Hang on," Gwen frowned, another thought suddenly occurring to her, "Where are the rest of us going to go?" She asked. "We can't go home either."

"Don't worry, I'll book us all into a hotel." Ianto reassured her. "Separate rooms of course." He smiled.

"Oooooo, so I get friends with benefits." Jack winked at him – his eyes twinkling.

"There is just one condition…" Ianto grinned as he glanced playfully in Jack's direction. His beautiful green eyes gleamed, his cheeks – emphasised by his prominent cheekbones – blushing pink, and his smile immediately widened. "This doesn't count… you still owe me that date." He told him.

Jack laughed as heartily as his throbbing ribs would allow him, but he still couldn't disguise a slight wince. "Well surely that depends on how the mood of the evening takes us?" He asked him teasingly.

"You'll have a job doing anything which vaguely constitutes a date hooked up to an IV bag." Ianto smiled. "But if you like I'll let you choose the pay-per-view."

"You might end up regretting saying that." Jack smiled back.

Ianto sighed.

Something told him that he very well might. But he really didn't care.

After all those long evenings dreaming of this moment he finally had Jack back, and even with a broken back and several broken ribs he could already tell that they were going to have fun tonight.