A/N: Sooo busy, but I've finally managed to finish Tuesday, yay! (Also, Lesley, I can't reply to your review, but thanks very much! In fact, thanks to everyone still reading this!)

Owen waited until Jack had disappeared into his office before he turned back to Ianto. He sat on the edge of the sofa, body rigid and face deathly white. Tosh perched anxiously beside him, a hand upon his arm.

"Okay," Owen began, though he wasn't sure what to say next. He looked around uncomfortably. "Uh..."

"Ianto," Tosh said, when he'd trailed off into silence, "what Jack was saying..." She glanced at Owen before valiantly pressing on. "I mean, did he...are you...?"

"Why did you stand up for me?" Ianto asked abruptly, still frozen in place, gaze cast downwards.

Owen rolled his eyes. "Because you looked like you were about to have a heart attack. Or a panic attack. Or any kind of attack that no self-respecting doctor could stand by and let happen." When Ianto didn't respond, he moved around the table and loomed over the other man. "Look, I enjoy watching a lover's tiff as much as the next guy-"

"Owen!" Tosh protested.

"-but when someone's about to keel over then it's kinda my duty to step in." He then gave a cruel smile. "Shame though. It's not often we get to see you lose it like that."

"Owen!" Tosh said again. "You're not helping!"

He shrugged. It was true; he'd always found pleasure in seeing Ianto's cool facade crack even just a little and, considering that fact wasn't exactly a secret, it seemed stupid to pretend otherwise. "Anyway you've stopped gasping for breath now, so come on, downstairs."

Ianto looked up, his eyes wide with alarm. "What?"

"Downstairs," Owen repeated. "I need to check you over."

"No!" Ianto shook his head firmly, then seemed to realise the abruptness with which he had answered. "There's no need, I'm fine."

But Owen wasn't about to accept his word on that right now. "Jack mentioned bruises and rope burns, so there is too a need." He'd also mentioned whip marks, but Owen couldn't bring himself to tackle that particular thought just yet. "I'm not taking no for an answer," he went on, when Ianto failed to respond.

"I'm fine," Ianto insisted again. He stood hurriedly and looked for a way past his colleagues, which only served to heighten his appearance of guilt.

Owen's mind took that observation and ran with it; forming the scene of Ianto being whipped that he'd been trying hard not to imagine. Oh to hell with good manners, he decided, just seconds before he blurted, "A sadist? Really?"

Ianto looked like an animal trapped in the headlights of a swiftly approaching mindfuck. Owen smirked at his own analogy, then noticed the younger man was trying to sidle out of reach. "I mean I know they say it's always the quiet ones, and I also realise you can't have been boffing Jack without being at least a little twisted inside, but I can't say I ever imagined you dolled up in rubber with a ball gag in your mouth."

"Owen!" Tosh gasped once again, but he ignored her, far too amused by Ianto's expression of horror to worry about her feeling offended on Tea-Boy's behalf.

The abuse, however, seemed to rattle something loose in Ianto's mind and he stopped edging backwards. "How have I not thrown you off a building yet?" he asked darkly and Owen couldn't stop himself from wincing at the threat. The idea of being alive in a broken body disturbed him even more than dying for good; trust Ianto to figure that out and use it against him.

"How have I not seen your photo online, tied up and begging like a little bitch?" Owen shot back at him.

"Oh so you've been trawling the porn sites again, have you?" Ianto said without missing a beat. "Guess I'm going to have to put the parental locks back on the computers."

"SHUT UP!"

The two bickering men fell silent and turned to find Tosh looking between them with pained eyes. "Don't argue," she pleaded, before settling her attention on Ianto. "You promised things weren't going to fall apart."

The whispered words had as much of an effect on Ianto as Owen's insults and his entire body slumped, as though the weight of the world had just fallen onto his shoulders. He sighed tiredly. "They're not," he said, unable to meet her gaze. "They won't. I won't let them."

With a faint shake of his head, he flicked his eyes briefly at Owen. "Okay," he said, and moved ahead of the doctor towards the autopsy bay.

"Fuck," Owen declared, falling into the chair in front of Jack's desk. Even the act of dropping down with a loud thump gave his numb body no pleasure and his scowl deepened. "Fucking-bloody-fuck."

Jack looked at him with an empty expression. "You found something then?"

His tone caused Owen to narrow his eyes suspiciously. "You weren't sure," he guessed.

"No." The Captain sighed. "I hadn't really seen anything for myself." He looked to his window into the Hub, though it was unlikely he could see anyone outside from that angle. "He didn't give me many details either, but I got the gist of it."

Owen shook his head. "This is seriously fucked up. For all the loose screws we've got around here, I thought his at least were tighter than anyone else's."

"That's the problem; they were too tight. He got wound up, too accustomed to being in control all the time, and the moment that control started to fail everything else followed suit." Jack sighed again. "Go on."

Taking that as a request for his official report, Owen slumped down even further, lifting a foot and bracing it against the desk.

It had taken him barely any time at all to conduct his examination. Knowing that he was looking for something out of the ordinary, and not just the usual Weevil scratches or rashes from alien pods, he'd been able to spot the tiny clues quickly.

A voice in the back of his head had spat a vivid string of curses the entire time he was working, angry that he'd apparently missed something that had been right under his nose every time Ianto had recently needed patching up. The intricacies of the Welshman's private life weren't exactly high on Owen's lists of interests – unless it provided him with decent ammunition for teasing – but being the team doctor meant that he should have noticed any injuries sustained at all.

"There are signs of restraints being fixed around his wrists and ankles," he began, "though whatever was used wasn't rough enough to cut into the flesh. They've rubbed and irritated his skin, and his limbs were probably sore after removal, but there's no damage caused by the bindings. On his back, particularly at the sides where the skin is thinner across the ribs, there are a few fine scars from flagellation. Again, however, I doubt the skin was frequently broken and probably only then by accident.

"There are also scratches upon his upper chest which did draw blood, caused by fingernails I would guess, which are healing well thanks to Ianto's own ministrations. And to top it all off, there's a fresh bruise on the side of his neck."

Jack blinked slowly, ageless features revealing nothing of his thoughts. "Bruise?" he repeated and Owen smiled wryly.

"Love bite," he confirmed with a mixture of reluctance and dark humour. In spite of what he'd discovered that day, he couldn't help but find some amusement in Ianto of all people having a hickey.

Jack gave a grunt and leaned back in his chair, folding his arms defensively across his chest. "No damage, no lasting marks," he muttered quietly, almost to himself.

He said nothing more and Owen actually began to feel disturbed by the silence. "What are you going to do?" he asked.

"Stop him," Jack said firmly.

"You think you can?" Owen glanced needlessly back at the closed door behind him. "This is Ianto we're talking about."

The expression of resolve upon Jack's face did not slip for even a moment. "I'm not going to just ignore this, Owen."

"How then?"

Jack gave a grim smile. "He stops altogether or he does it under my conditions. Those are his two options and I'll make sure he realises I won't accept anything else if he wants to stay a part of Torchwood."

"Right," Owen agreed dubiously, not because he doubted Jack's abilities, but because he could clearly imagine the fierce resistance Ianto would put up when faced with such an ultimatum.

Tosh stood in the middle of the autopsy bay, hugging herself and shifting her weight uneasily. She stared at Ianto sitting upon the metal bed as though looking away would cause him to disappear. The enormity of the situation had not completely settled in her mind, the notion so dark and disturbing that her thoughts shied away from any solid contemplation of what Ianto had admitted, Jack had insinuated, and Owen had discovered during his examination.

Instead she focused only on the fact that Ianto was in trouble and could come to harm if he were left to his own devices. She had no fear that he would hurt himself, but it was clear that whatever he was doing with the man he and Jack had argued about, it was not something to be encouraged.

"Do you think it's fair for Jack to dictate what I do in my free time?" Ianto asked, after a long five minutes of silence. His gaze was distant but Tosh knew he was fully aware of her presence in the room, though she'd been quiet since arriving to watch over him whilst Owen talked to Jack.

"I don't think I know enough to judge that," she replied softly.

"He doesn't have the right to run my life," Ianto went on, as though she hadn't spoken. "He doesn't own me."

Tosh bit at her lip, pained by the absence of Ianto's usual cool tone. "He's worried for you. We all are."

The young Welshman sighed, before jumping to his feet and straightening his jacket. "I wonder if anyone will ever care for my opinion," he said. Lifting his head, he turned to face Tosh, where she hovered between him and the tiled steps. "Are you planning to help him keep me here, locked up like an animal?"

"Ianto..."

He stared at her expectantly, chin lifting so it seemed more than ever that he looked down at her. It wasn't often these days that someone could make her feel small, in presence or stature, but Tosh felt barely three inches tall beneath Ianto's dull gaze. There was no battle to be had – even if Ianto had been acting entirely normal, Tosh would still have given way to him – but as she stepped aside to let him pass, he turned his back on her and ascended the steps behind him instead, snubbing even her delicate attempt at empathy.

As Ianto reached the top of the steps, Jack and Owen appeared before him, like a rehearsed step in a dance they hadn't been invited to join.

"I'm going to need your mobile and PDA," Jack informed him without any preamble. He held out his hand as though Ianto would simply surrender them, just like that.

"That isn't necessary," he said, glancing at Owen to gauge his thoughts on this matter. The medic seemed torn between glaring at him or the wall, with the wall winning out when Ianto looked his way.

"It is, actually, because I know what you can do with them." The Captain's tone was all business, suggesting that whatever he'd just heard from Owen had knocked all the emotion from him. "I'm merely pre-empting a situation we'd undoubtedly face further down the line."

"Tosh, you need to lock him out of all essential systems too," Owen said, shifting his attention away from the wall as she climbed up beside Ianto.

"Right," she murmured, troubled and unsure, but, after a confirming nod from Jack, she ducked from the triangle of solemn men to do as he'd said.

"So, are you going to stick me in with the Weevils or the slugs?" Ianto asked, lifting his hands and pressing his wrists together, the very image of a criminal awaiting his cuffs. "Because either way it's going to ruin my suit. And I really do like this suit."

There was no notable reaction on either Jack or Owen's face; although Owen seemed able to look at Ianto again now, perhaps more comfortable with the familiar sarcasm.

"You could have a cell to yourself, if you really wanted," said Jack. "But I was thinking more of the rooms up here."

Well, Ianto admitted to himself, at least Jack wasn't assuming he'd bed down where he usually stayed. "If I gave you my word that I wouldn't see Alex again, or anyone else who offers...that kind of thing...would you even believe me?"

Jack studied him closely. "I'd want to. But I'm not sure a promise would be good enough anymore."

"And what does that mean?"

"It means there's a guy out there with a hard-on for you, literally, and I don't think he'd let you get away so easily."

Ianto sighed. Sometimes talking to Jack felt like banging his head against a wall of narcissism. He thought about arguing, about pointing out for the nth time that the arrangement with Alex was purely business, but he was so tired of repeating himself. Instead, he just stood there, waiting for the explanation that would undoubtedly follow his weary silence.

"I don't know what rules you think you established with that man," Jack began, as Ianto had expected, "but you didn't see the look in his eyes when I interrupted him." Jack's stance slipped from commanding to pleading, a rare look for him, especially when he was trying to get his way. "It wasn't a professional look, Ianto, and believe me I've seen a lot of unprofessional looks in my time."

Ianto lifted a hand and pressed his thumb into one closed eye and fingers into the other; he could feel a migraine forming and wasn't that just the icing on the cake for this shitty day? "You're going to Retcon him, aren't you?" The delay in responding told Ianto all he needed to know. "Of course you are," he went on, "that's your solution to everything."

"You were wrong before," said Jack, ignoring Ianto's accusation. "I hadn't looked for any info on him. Why would I? Until today I thought he was just a guy you were screwing."

Sceptical though he was, Ianto's fingers dropped from his eyes to his lips, his mind turned away from the headache to Jack's words. After the threat he'd made earlier that day about looking up Alex for himself, Ianto had assumed Jack had gone ahead and done so, especially as he'd felt the need to follow Ianto after their brief quarrel.

To hear the claim that Jack had actually kept his snooping to a minimum – including the fact he'd only burst into Alex's flat upon hearing Ianto's cry of protest – gave Ianto data he didn't know quite how to interpret. Despite all the talk of lacking faith in the young Welshman, had Jack perhaps been trying to trust him?

And if so, what did that mean precisely?

"But I have now," Jack said, interrupting Ianto's jumbled thoughts, "and he's dangerous. Too dangerous to be allowed his memories of you." The Captain paused, then declared, "He's done it before."

Ianto, who had been staring blindly at Jack's boots, now glanced up. "Done what?"

"Taken an infatuation too far." Jack held his gaze intently. "I found a police report from twelve years ago; an eighteen year old claiming he'd been held captive and abused for six months straight by your friend."

"He doesn't have a record," Ianto protested. "I checked."

"There was no evidence to support the kid, and the fact that he did have a record meant the police were quite happy to forget the accusation." Shrugging, Jack folded his arms across his chest. "Considering his current occupation, I'd be inclined to think there was at least some truth in the story."

"Then that'd be rather narrow-minded of you," Ianto pointed out. "To made an assumption like that isn't very Fifty-First Century, is it? I'd say it was biased, more than anything else."

Jack stared at him, not at all put off by that judgement. "You didn't see his reaction-"

With an exasperated sigh, Ianto waved for him to stop. "Okay, fine, Retcon him then, if you're so worried about my safety." He knew Jack would have done so with his permission or not, but somehow saying it still made him feel like he'd just robbed a man of a piece of his life.

"And what about me?" he added, to distract himself from the guilt. "You said earlier you just wanted a promise that I'd stop. Now it seems you're not going to let me leave the Hub even if I sign a contract in blood! Are you planning to keep me here for the rest of my life?"

"Just until I can be sure you're not going to run off and do anything stupid," Jack said. "Owen suggested finding you a thera-"

"No!" Ianto interrupted, horrified by the idea. He glared at the doctor, who didn't look too thrilled by it either.

Jack took the protest in his stride, perhaps having expected Ianto's opposition to revealing such details to a complete stranger. "Then you stay here until I'm satisfied you've accepted the danger of what you were doing, or until we've come to an agreement of our own."

Ianto narrowed his eyes suspiciously at that final comment, but something kept him from asking what the immortal meant. He wasn't sure he could handle that right then. Instead he simply pulled out the contents of his pockets – phone, keys, loose change, everything – and set them down with a metallic clatter on the coffee table. A few coins immediately rolled off the edge and under the couch to be lost forever.

There was really no point in arguing anymore; Ianto knew talking would do him no good, at least not until Jack had calmed down and was more likely to accept reason. He was currently outnumbered and he knew it was time to concede before Jack was forced to take further action to contain him.

"I'm going to assume you won't stop me from doing my usual work here," he said, mentally crossing his fingers that Jack would consider the Hub a secure enough prison without having to keep Ianto on a short leash as well.

"I wouldn't dream of it," Jack replied. If he was surprised at all by Ianto's surrender, he didn't show it.

Ianto merely smiled blandly and got as far away from the older man as he possible could.

Later that evening, after Tosh had gone home, Owen had stomped off to the Hub's gym, and Jack had vanished for a flit around the rooftops, Ianto dug out one of the spare mobiles that everyone else seemed to have forgotten existed – which was ridiculous considering how frequently they lost or broke them during the more physical of their alien encounters.

Still, their absent-mindedness meant that Ianto's first act of defiance was incredible easy to execute. He wasn't being insolent on purpose (okay, maybe just a little) but it was purely good manners to check on the man his lover had almost beaten to a pulp that afternoon.

Granted, once Jack had Retconned him, Alex wouldn't remember either the attack or any subsequent remorse, but Ianto had always been a firm believer in decorum no matter what the situation.

As he dialled the number, Ianto checked his watch. He didn't think Jack would try to deal with Alex that night – there being no real urgency with Ianto safely in the Hub – but he supposed pig-headedness could lead him there anyway.

"Yes?" The word came along the line muffled and slow, the speaker either tired or drugged or both.

Ianto hesitated, reassessing his theories about Jack's determination. "It's Ianto," he said eventually, figuring he could always pass it off as a wrong number if Alex didn't recognise the name.

There was silence. Then a grunt of laughter. "You took your time," Alex said. "I've been waiting for an apology all day."

"Ah." Ianto grimaced. "Sorry. And, yeah, sorry about earlier too. Are you all right?"

"I've got a fractured cheekbone, a black eye, broken nose and a split lip." Alex grunted again, the thickness of his voice apparently due more to swelling than either fatigue or medication. "But I've had worse. You can tell your buddy not to try any of that shit next time you're here though, 'cuz I won't be so civil if I see him again."

"Ah," Ianto said again, "about that. I'm not going to be able to get over there for a while."

Another brief silence. "Why?"

"Work mostly." Ianto leaned heavily on the shelving unit behind which he was lurking, though he was already in a secluded room deep in the Hub. He hadn't really thought about having to explain himself to Alex, but in hindsight he supposed it was inevitable the other man would ask. "Something's come up and I'll be busy for the time being."

"Work," Alex echoed. "Not your overprotective boyfriend then?"

Ianto closed his eyes. "It really doesn't mat-"

"Actually it does," Alex cut in, his voice still thick but full of anger now. "You can't listen to him, Ianto, he doesn't understand you. If he did he wouldn't stop you from getting the help you need."

"I'm sure it won't be for long..."

"You need to leave him. You need to stop letting him make bad decisions for you and listen to someone with experience."

Ianto was strangely unnerved by that declaration. "Like you?" he guessed.

"I do this for a living, remember?"

The hand holding the phone to Ianto's ear dropped slightly, his arm leaden with both physical and mental exhaustion. Though it was undeniable he had the occasional urge to let someone else take charge of his actions, that did not mean he wanted to be told what to do every moment of the day. "Look," he said, sighing as he lifted the mobile again, "I appreciate your dedication, but I think it best if I take a break from all that for now. You said other clients sometimes stop because of changes in their lives, so you know this is not a reflection on you, right?"

A harsh laugh sounded along the line. "I told you, you're not a client anymore," Alex said.

Ianto frowned, recalling with sudden clarity the other man saying that shortly before shoving his hand down Ianto's trousers. But that had all been an act; one Ianto hadn't sanctioned perhaps, but an act nonetheless. "There's no point in all that now," he said, his fatigue making him impatient. "I'm sorry but I'm sure you'll have no problem filling my timeslot."

"Shut up!" the other man barked at him. "Stop all this bullshit and get over here right now!"

"Alex-"

"No! I demand you come here and finish what you started earlier!"

The fury in his voice left Ianto speechless for a few seconds, overwhelmed by the unquestionable sincerity with which Alex spoke. "I can't," he murmured, whilst a sinking feeling swept across him.

"I'm not asking, Ianto. I'm telling you. Get. Here. Now!"

Oh God. Ianto's chin dropped to his chest, the energy draining from his body. He'd been right, Jack had been right about this man and Ianto had been so desperate for help that he hadn't noticed any of the signs lurking right before his eyes.

"Ianto," Alex growled. "If you don't come here, I'll come and find you instead. I have contacts, powerful people who can find anyone, anywhere, you hear me?"

Ianto almost laughed at the threat; it was technically impotent, considering how much more power Ianto had at his own fingertips, but the determination in Alex's voice held back the young man's mirth. "I'm sorry," he said again, pulling the phone from his ear and disconnecting the call, just as a loud rant began to issue from the earpiece.

Fully alone and in silence now, Ianto slid to the floor, heedless of the dust and dirt around him. It wasn't so horrifying that Jack had been right about Alex – Ianto was mature enough to admit when he'd made a mistake – but what really troubled him was the fact that, Retconned or not, he'd just lost his one safe outlet for his unsettling needs...