I hate spoilers, but I really should give you the heads up that there is a non-con trigger in this chapter. That's all I'm saying.

Chapter 9: Kidnapped

The only reason Jack and Gwen were still alive was because they were standing on the secret entrance, the one protected by the perception filter; Gwen was trying to keep still, staring at the three lupicarnes in front of them with wide eyes, clearly terrified. John recognized the beasts as soon as he saw them. "Sherlock, those are from this morning!" he hissed.

"Oh fuck," Ianto swore, moving the boys behind him instinctively.

John glanced at Sherlock. "What do we do? The knives should kill them, right?"

The boy bit his lip. "John, if anything happens-"

John felt his stomach clench, "No. I am not going to lose you nor you me. Not now. Not ever." The blonde stepped out from behind Ianto and planted his feet; his grip on the knife tightened, and, with pinpoint accuracy, he threw his knife...and it embedded itself right behind the heart of one of the beasts. The flesh sizzled and burned as the creature died, howling in surprise. The other two lupicarnes growled, stalking towards them. Sherlock pushed John back since he no longer had a knife, twirling his own around his finger as the creatures grew closer.

Ianto nodded at Sherlock to tell him it was go time. They both lunged forward, Ianto ducking a claw and stabbing his creature in the heart. Sherlock was just about to slash his in the chest when its paw knocked the knife from his hand, catching his arm in its mouth. He cried out as the sharp teeth tore into his skin.

"NO!" John roared, diving for the knife and whirling around, Jack and Gwen running to help them. The creature didn't hurt Sherlock any further, running off with the teenager struggling against its grip instead. "JOHN!" he shouted, reaching for the boy as he was pulled away. Sherlock felt his body numbing, losing consciousness slowly as the creature carried him away.

oOoOo

"SHERLOCK!" John started to run but strong arms grabbed him. "NO!" he yelled, straining against Jack. "We HAVE to follow him!"

"We follow him now and we all die, John. That thing isn't taking him far, and it has Rift energy clinging to it. We can track it. Plus, I slipped a tracker in Sherlock's pocket. Let's suit up and go after them."

John nodded, fighting back fear and tears as he followed Ianto back into the Hub. The Welshman couldn't help but feel partly responsible for all this, even though he knew it wasn't true. The tears fell silently now as John let Ianto sit him down on the sofa. He felt the man embrace him, and he sobbed into his shoulder. Ianto held the boy, rubbing his back. "It's okay, he'll be fine, we're not going to let anything happen to him," he said. "But we have to be strong right now, okay?"

John nodded, drawing shaky, ragged breaths. "Thanks."

Jack glanced at Gwen. "We need all the research Tosh had on these things. Now."

Gwen nodded, calling up the computer. "Oh fucking bag of wank," Gwen groaned. "This is really not good."

Ianto looked up. "What is it?" He asked.

"Lupicarnes: a mix of werewolf, human, and, something else, no idea what that is, deadly hunter and drone. Often used to seek out a desired prey to bring back to its master. Like a very deadly hunting dog. Claws are venomous (deadly), teeth venom acts as a sedative. Generally bows down to-" She broke off, wordlessly showing Jack.

"Captain John" he spat.

"Who's he?" asked John.

Ianto glared at the screen. "Lovely," he muttered.

"No, really, who is that?"

"Ex-time agent, ex-lover of mine as well," Jack growled, grabbing Ianto's hand possessively.

Ianto looked up "Well, what are we waiting for, let's go!" he shouted, "I'll drive."

Jack dashed to the weapons stash for guns and silver knives before heading to the car, jumping in after Gwen and John. "Step on it Ianto. Gwen, navigate."

Ianto slammed his foot down on the pedal, pulling out of the garage quickly.

oOoOo

Sherlock woke up suddenly, blinking in the bright light, his arm killing him. He groaned "Johhhn," the first person he wanted to see.

"Well, you know my name already. I feel like a bad host."

Sherlock glared into the dark, "Don't flatter yourself, who the hell are you?"

"Oh please, I'll flatter who I like, although you...you are something quite unique, Sherlock Holmes

"I know. Now why have you been sending these things after me?" Just get to the point already!

"Not very modest. Good. Neither am I." The man stepped out of the shadows into the harsh light of the lamp above the boy. "Captain John Hart at your service," he smirked, giving a mock bow.

"Sorry, never heard of you," the boy replied as he sat back, feigning boredom.

"Don't play coy with me, I can tall you're frightfully interested. So, go on. Pull your party trick on me. I want to know what you can see."

Sherlock leaned forward; his cold blue eyes raked up and down the strange man. "You're like Jack, but not immortal; you don't have that look in your eyes, but you don't belong in this time period so...time travel?"

"Bravo. Ten points to you." Captain John walked right up to the boy, standing mere inches away. "What else, hmmm?"

" That watch...Jack has one, so an organization for time travel."

"Give the boy a prize, but you're holding out on me. I know you see soooo much more"

Sherlock shook his head. "You just kidnapped me with a werewolf; I'm not going to entertain you."

"Lupicarne, Sherlock, lupicarne, and I think you will," Captain John purred, bringing his face down to Sherlock's level. "I think you very well will because if you don't, I have other...plans for you."

Though no emotions showed on his face, Sherlock panicked a little inside. He calmed himself down enough to reply, "I'm not playing your stupid game."

"Not yet, perhaps, but you will." Captain John's mouth trailed the adolescent's jaw back to his ear. "You will because if you don't, I'll take the place of your current...John"

Sherlock's eyes widened, leaning away from the man as much as he could. "Stay away from me," he warned

"Or what? You can't run, your friends aren't coming to rescue you, John couldn't even protect you. Such a shame," he murmured, nipping Sherlock's ear. Sherlock struggled against the bindings fruitlessly. "They are coming, they'll find me," he said through gritted teeth, more of a reassurance for himself than anything.

"Jack held your lover boy back and dragged him back into their little hide out. They aren't coming for you."

Sherlock shook his head. "No, they're coming, they'll find you. I know they will," he seethed.

"He's hotter when he's angry," Captain John grinned. "I bet you kiss better angry too. All teeth and tongue."

Sherlock closed his mouth tightly and shook his head vehemently; this was not happening. The Captain leaned in, lips just barely brushing Sherlock's. "Don't try to hide it," he purred before kissing the boy full on. Sherlock resisted, trying to shrink away from the man, turning his head away and leaning it backwards. It felt so wrong, so invasive...not at all like when he and his John had kissed before.

Captain John grabbed his face and forced him to stay still. "Don't even think about it," he growled before kissing again, forcing his tongue into Sherlock's mouth. Sherlock whimpered, and then something hit him. He bit down hard on the man's tongue.

"You little shit!" Captain John screamed, pulling out of Sherlock's mouth and backhanding the teenager. "You-you freak!"

"Fuck. You," Sherlock spat, ignoring the hand to his face. He had received much worse as a child.

"Oh? Daddy hit you too much as a child?" Captain John punched him this time, bruising and cutting Sherlock across the cheekbone. "Maybe I should just take you right now..."

Sherlock reeled from the punch. "Don't you fucking touch me," he hissed.

oOoOo

"Five minutes away. Top story of the abandoned office building."

Ianto nodded, navigating the streets fairly easily since it was the middle of the day and after lunch.

"And right-HERE!" Gwen jerked forward when Ianto hit the brakes, the team piling out of the car only to face two lupicarnes. Jack and John took them down quickly, retrieving their knives and heading in. Ianto followed the two inside, holding his own knife at the ready.

oOoOo

Slicing the boy's bonds with his knife, Captain John dragged Sherlock to his feet and shoved him against the wall. "You're mine, boy," he spat, blood spraying Sherlock's cheek. Sherlock was pinned to the wall, his non-bloodstained cheek pressed to the cool concrete. Captain John had made short work of the boy's trousers before forcing himself in, grunting. "New at this?" he growled, thrusting in and out, making the boy scream as he fucked him into the wall.

His hands were held firmly in Captain John's as the man defiled the poor boy; he shrieked in pain, feeling blood trickle down his legs. Sherlock felt tears of pain and shame sting his face as he felt himself being degraded like this.

He could faintly hear the door open behind him, but it seemed so far away.

oOoOo

The trip upstairs was nerve wracking and uneventful, but when they reached a floor with two more lupicarnes, they knew they were close; then they heard Sherlock scream.

John was the first one in the room, dodging the beasts and tearing through the door. Ianto followed close behind, his face turning green at what he saw. He raised his gun, hands shaking furiously, but he would never get in a good shot. Jack was the only one to not hesitate, hand unflinching as he shot Captain John in the shoulder. "Get away from him," he snarled.

John dashed forward, shoving the man off Sherlock and tackling him, punching him repeatedly, applying hard pressure to the gunshot wound. "YOU-WILL-NEVER-HURT-HIM-AGAIN!"

Sherlock collapsed, groaning as he hit the floor. Ianto rushed to the boy's aid, pushing back the urge to be sick as he tried to comfort him. "We're here. I'm so sorry, Sherlock," he whispered.

Captain John cried out, losing his breath as the young boy tackled him. In between punches he smirked. "You're-John-then,-eh?"

Jack threw Ianto his coat and approached the Johns with Gwen. "John, you can stop now-"

The blonde boy ignored Jack in favor of jumping up and stamping on the other Captain's wound, grinding it into the floor. "I'LL KILL YOU!" he roared.

Ianto covered Sherlock with the coat, softly whispering words of comfort to him.

Captain John grunted as pressure was applied to his wound. "Hey Jack-long time-no see," he choked out.

"Shut it, you slime ball," Jack spat.

John dropped to his knees, hands at Captain John's throat and ready to squeeze the life out of him when he stopped, pulling out his knife and pressing it to the man's throat instead. "Say goodbye," he hissed before slicing him open and drenching the floor in blood.

Jack glanced at Gwen. "We need to clean all this up." She nodded back, heading for the car

Ianto looked over, horrified. This boy was barely an adult and he had just murdered a man in cold blood. John was numb as he stood, glaring down at the cooling corpse. He finally turned to face Sherlock, his anger and fear shining through in his tears. "Oh God, Sherlock," he gasped, flying to the boy's side.

Ianto, seeing that the injured boy was in good hands, went to a corner of the room, putting a hand on his stomach. Jack went to the man. "You ok?"

Ianto shook his head. "Give me a minute," he mumbled, waiting for the wave of nausea to hit him. Jack grabbed a bin from the corner, holding it up for Ianto, knowing what was coming. Ianto gripped his stomach, his body locking up as he vomited into the bin.

"Let it out," Jack rubbed Ianto's back, helping him sit and pressing the bin into his hands. "I've got you."

Sherlock was staring at the wall, not saying a word; he looked almost catatonic. He could still feel the man's hands on his wrists, his breath on his neck, him forcing his way in-he shuddered violently.

"Sherlock, Sherlock, Sherlock," John whispered over and over, taking the shaking boy in his arms and holding tight. "It's me, Sherlock, it's me. Come back to me, please, Sherlock, come back to me." He kissed him gently before kissing the cut on his cheek, his forehead, his nose. John rubbed his nose against Sherlock's, intimate and close like they had been in the car before all of this had happened. "Please."

Sherlock didn't look at him. He felt so ashamed, so dirty, and he couldn't look at John, choosing instead to just squeeze his eyes shut as tight as he could.

"It's not your fault, it wasn't your fault. Sherlock, please, don't you dare shut down. You survived everything your father ever threw you, don't let me lose you now. Not now. God, please, just look at me!"

Sherlock forced himself to look at John, trying his best not to just break into hysterics then and there. John sobbed with relief, kissing him everywhere and hugging him. "I'm here, you're going to be fine, Oh God, you're going to be fine. I'll take care of you. I promise. I swear it Sherlock."

Sherlock broke down; he sobbed and sobbed in John's arms. The blonde boy soon lost track of which tears were his and which were Sherlock's. He clutched the boy tightly in his arms, kissing his cheeks and whispering in his ear, finally managing to pull Sherlock gingerly onto his lap and cradle him against his chest. Sherlock winced as he was moved, his whole body raw and sore, and blood was seeping through the coat covering him now. John felt Sherlock tense, suddenly aware of the warmth on his jeans. "Jack! He needs a doctor. NOW!"

Gwen made it back to the room then. "I've got it here, Jack. Leave Ianto with me."

Jack nodded, standing and crossing to pick up Sherlock in his arms, running down the stairs, John in tow.

oOoOo

Ianto was hit by another wave of nausea as he threw up into the bin. He spat as he sat back up, body still shaking. "Thanks Gwen," he said feebly.

"No problem. Just incinerating this scumbag," she hissed, lighting the dead man on fire. "We have to torch the place."

Ianto nodded, he stood. "Let's do it."

Helping Ianto to his feet, Gwen handed him matches. "The lupicarnes will really burn; I've doused them already, so torch them and run like hell."

Ianto took the box of matches, moving to the nearest group of lupicarnes and waiting for Gwen to be ready before lighting them and running downstairs, dropping matches on each group they passed until they were out of the building. Gwen dragged Ianto away from the growing conflagration, finally stopping for breath several streets away.

The Welshman turned to watch the fire once they stopped running. He could feel the heat from where they were standing. "Come on, I can't look at it," he told her, turning his back on the place and walking away. Gwen followed in silence as they walked back to the Hub

Ianto didn't speak most of the way. "Hell of a day," he finally said, exhaling loudly.

"You can say that again." Gwen let them into the shop, locking up behind them. "Closed for the rest of the day," she murmured. "God, I hope Sherlock is all right."

Ianto nodded. "He'll never be the same. Not after that."

Gwen looked at Ianto, studying his face. "That's what you were reliving all those years ago, wasn't it?"

Ianto squeezed his eyes shut, nodding. "Yeah," he said softly.

Gwen pulled him into a hug. "It's ok, you're safe, and he will pull through. He has John and Jack and me and you."

"I know," Ianto replied, moving to busy himself making coffee even though there was nobody to drink it.

"I'll take a cup when you've made it," Gwen said, setting about cleaning the Hub. Ianto nodded, making the coffee quickly and then handing a cup to Gwen. His hands were still shaking slightly, but it wasn't nearly as bad as before. Gwen took it before taking Ianto's hand and squeezing. "What can we do to help them when they get back?"

Ianto shrugged. "I don't know," he told her. "Just be there, listen if they need it, don't push if they don't." He remembered how people had tried to force him to talk to them and it only made him bottle it up more.

Gwen nodded. "Anything I can assist you with? Cleaning? Organizing? Make them a feast?"

Ianto chuckled, "Sure, just order some food, don't go overboard," he told her, going to clean up their lunch from the conference room. Gwen got on her mobile and ordered a Chinese, probably going a little over board but she didn't care. They were going to have a feast of Chinese takeaway and cheap beer, even the boys. Ianto finished the cleaning quickly, making sure everything would be comfortable, knowing Sherlock would be very sore when he returned.

Gwen waited impatiently in the store for the delivery, relaxing when it finally showed up. She paid and took it to the conference room. "A feast for the returning heroes."

Ianto sighed "Not going overboard?"

"Shut up. It's comfort food." Gwen teased, going to the fridge and pulling out two 6-packs and a few sodas, turning back to help arrange the food. "We'll need silverware, plates, and napkins."

Ianto nodded, bringing out paper plates and napkins and forks and knives and spoons and laying them all out on the table. "Just act normally," he told her, even though he knew that would be practically impossible.

oOoOo

Sherlock groaned as they made their way downstairs, feeling his vision become hazy once more as he began to nod off in Jack's arms.

"Stay with me, Sherlock," Jack whispered as they reached the car. He gently lay the boy in the backseat. "John, sit on the floor, hold him still." The blonde obeyed, holding Sherlock's hand tight in his own. Sherlock did his best to stay awake, trying to focus on anything. He wouldn't go like this, no way.

"Tell me about our first day together," John whispered, still crying. "The day you met me, when you came to live with me." The day that changed my life, he thought. Sherlock took a shaky breath. "I was seven, we were in the back yard, we played pirates together," he remembered, trying to hold on to the memory. "You gave me my scarf, and the arrowhead."

"Mummy made pasta, and I told you I thought you were amazing. Your hair was just as curly then as it is now." John smoothed sweat-slick curls out of Sherlock's face. "Almost there, just hang on a little longer."

Sherlock nodded. "I remember. Nine years ago today, John. Happy anniversary," he smiled sadly. "I love you."

"I love you too." John's tears fell harder and he kissed Sherlock, pouring his love through his lips.

Jack pulled into the hospital, getting out and gently picking up Sherlock, carrying him in and giving him to the doctors, explaining what he could. He sat with John in the waiting room, trying to comfort the boy.

Doctors rushed in and out of the Emergency room, not bothering to stop and talk to Jack or John for a long time. John was growing restless, anxiety about his best friend, his boyfriend, growing with every passing minute.

Eventually a Doctor came up to them asking if they were relatives. John nodded. "Foster brother. We've grown up together. This is our uncle, Jack. Distant relative."

The doctor said they could go through, taking them to Sherlock's room where the boy was staring at the wall again and looking even paler than usual. John darted to his bedside, pulling up the chair and taking his hand. "Sherlock?" he asked softly. Jack stood in the corner, unmoving, thinking about Ianto.

Sherlock looked at John and then back at the wall. "Hi, John." His voice was hoarse.

"Don't you dare, don't you dare shut down on me, Sherlock Sherrinford Holmes!" John's vehemence surprised him; Sherlock had told him his middle name once, and John had never dared use it before. "I don't care what he did to you. What I care about is that you won't let me help!"

Sherlock jumped at the outburst, shrinking away from John in his bed. "I'm sorry," he whispered softly, looking downwards.

"No, don't, aw shit," John groaned, lowering his voice. "I'd climb onto the bed with you, but I told the doctors we were foster brothers to get back here. You need to be held now, though. Sherlock, tell me what to do."

Sherlock smiled slightly, but his eyes were still sad. "Just stay here," he told him, squeezing John's hand; the sixteen-year-old looked so much older than he actually was and so fragile. John kissed his cheek gently. "Promise me you'll talk when you're ready. I want to help. I really, really do."

He nodded. "I promise." He took a shaky breathe. "When can I go home? I hate hospitals."

John grabbed Sherlock's chart, glancing at it. "They should do a final check in a few minutes. It looks like you had a few stitches and there's no lasting damage, but you'll be sore." John glanced at the boy. "You're eyes look so much like Jack's right now," he whispered. Sherlock squeezed his eyes shut. "I know."

The doctors came in a few moments later, doing a last check of Sherlock, advising him to go easy, lie on his stomach, not to do any strenuous activities. They helped him up, wrapping him in a robe as his pants and trousers had been destroyed; Jack had somehow gotten his coat back so he could clean it.

Sherlock was embarrassed about being wrapped up, not having his clothes, having trouble walking; he had always been a very proud young man and it felt so humiliating to need help with these kinds of things. John held his hand the entire time, letting Sherlock lean on him if he needed. When they got to the car, he helped the boy lay down in the backseat, taking his hand again. Jack drove off, taking them back to the Hub

Sherlock lay on his stomach as he had been told, more because John would have had his skin if he didn't follow the doctor's orders, but also because he was hurting, and the pain seemed to outweigh his pride for once. John stroked the hair back from his face the entire ride, whispering words of love and comfort in his ear, and occasionally kissing his cheek and nose. Jack helped them both out of the car when they got back. "Your bags are in the main room if you'd like to change."

Sherlock nodded, limping towards the Hub. He took a deep breath and pressed on, refusing to let his injuries get the best of him.

oOoOo

Ianto had gone up to the tourist shop to wait for them. He opened the door for them quickly and went to Jack's side. Jack wrapped his arms around his lover, holding him silently for a few moments before looking at him.

"How's he doing?"

"Proud and stubborn. He won't talk about it, but I'm worried that means it's worse in his head."

"He just needs time, Jack. It's hard to tell people about things like that. He'll come around eventually, so just be there when he does."

Jack nodded, kissing Ianto before heading in. "Is there dinner?"

Ianto's lip twitched. "Gwen went a little overboard with the Chinese."

Jack smirked slightly. "I think we can all use a distraction," he said as they headed for the conference room.

"Okay." Ianto said, opening the door for Jack and letting him in. The immortal blinked as he took in the spread on the table, and then started howling.

"I told you she went overboard."

"Hey!" Gwen faked a look of hurt. "I have a bunch of boys to feed."

Ianto chuckled. "Alright," he said, grabbing a plate.

oOoOo

John led him through the doors, finding their bags where they'd left them. "Jack's office, come on," he whispered, slinging the bags over his shoulder. Sherlock followed silently, refusing to let John help him up the stairs; he wanted to be independent. John kept one eye on the boy until they got to Jack's office. He shut the door and went through Sherlock's bag first, handing him a new shirt, pants and trousers. Sherlock took the clothes, slowly pulling on his pants underneath the robe, wincing as the fabric touched his sore skin. The shirt wasn't as difficult, and after a bit, he had finally dressed himself.

John stripped and dressed, throwing on ratty jeans and an old jumper. He looked up at Sherlock as he re-tied his shoes, staring. "You look amazing," he whispered.

"I don't feel it, John," Sherlock mumbled, staring at his feet and contemplating putting his shoes back on before deciding it wasn't worth it. John stood and slowly crossed to the boy. "I'd like to hug you and kiss you if that's all right," he said, waiting for permission.

Sherlock nodded "Gently, please."

John tenderly took Sherlock in his arms, hand rubbing circles on the boy's back as he brushed their lips together. "I love you."

Sherlock closed his eyes. "I love you too," he whispered back, leaning down to kiss him a bit more firmly, but only just so. John took it, treasuring the chaste kiss and going no further. "Come on. Dinner."

John stopped dead when they reached the conference room, the table practically groaning under the weight of all the food. Squeezing Sherlock's hand, he walked forward to their seats. Sherlock took his place, wincing as he slowly lowered himself into the chair and noting that Ianto had clearly swapped it for a much softer one than he'd had before. "Thank you," he murmured, taking a plate and putting a small portion of food on it, prodding it with his fork..

John popped the top on two beers, handing one to Sherlock. "Eat your food and drink this. It'll help." John proceeded to pile his plate with dumplings, noodles, and entrees, sampling everything he could get his hands on.

Sherlock eyed the bottle, scrunching his nose at it. "I don't drink." He had always told himself he would never drink alcohol because of his father, but he found himself thoroughly intrigued by the thought of slowing down his mind for once.

"You are not your father," John whispered. "And it will dull the pain." He took a long pull from his own bottle, raising it to the table. "Cheers."

Sherlock nodded, clinking his bottle against John's and taking a reluctant sip. He coughed a bit. "That is disgusting," he choked, holding it to eye level. "Does it always taste like that?"

Jack chuckled. "Only for the first few sips if you aren't use to it. After that, it's not half bad."

Sherlock nodded, taking another sip; he forced himself to stomach the stuff, wanting more than anything to stop his brain from playing the memories over and over again in his head. John drank and ate, stuffing himself, the slow warmth of the alcohol numbing everything slightly.

Eventually, Sherlock became used to the taste, finishing off the bottle. He began to feel a haze spreading across his mind. Ianto watched, slightly concerned. He wasn't sure it was right for Sherlock to be pushing his problems away with alcohol, not at a time like this. John glanced at Ianto and saw his expression, grabbing Sherlock a bottle of water. "Here."

Sherlock shook his head. "I'm done." He had never felt like this, the warmth spreading through his body and the thin veil falling across his mind, suppressing the memories that haunted him.

"Ok, but promise you'll finish the water before bed. And eat a bit more, Sherlock, you don't want that on an empty stomach."

Sherlock sighed. "Fine," he agreed, taking a sip of the water and nipping at the food on his plate. He didn't want the feeling to go away, not just yet.

"The buzz will last Sherlock," Jack said quietly, watching the boy. "We just want to make sure you don't get sick."

He nodded, eating more. Ianto watched the boy, and his heart went out to him. He knew what it was like, and he was just glad the boy had people to take care of him and keep him from making the wrong decisions.

Once he had finished eating, Sherlock pushed his plate away. "There." His words sounding a bit slower than usual. John smiled slightly. "Feel better?"

"Much better." He leaned over and kissed John softly on the lips; Sherlock's breath smelled of alcohol, and he was clearly drunk, not having a high tolerance for the stuff at all, especially since he had initially been drinking on an empty stomach. John sighed, kissing Sherlock a few more times before resting their heads together. "You're drunk, love," he whispered.

"I know." Sherlock told him, chuckling slightly.

Ianto watched, leaning over to Jack. "Do you think I should take them back soon?"

"To your place? Probably."

"I don't want to go too far," John whispered. "I want you to still know where your limits are, love."

"I'll get the car ready, send them up in ten." Ianto kissed Jack on the forehead and went to warm up the SUV.

Sherlock huffed. "Fine," he agreed, leaning in again to kiss John, sloppily. John kissed back this time, adding a little more tongue than before, still careful but loving, but he soon leaned closer and stroked Sherlock's head. His boyfriend was not nearly as coordinated as he usually was, his tongue wandering about carelessly. It was messy and not exactly the most pleasurable thing in the world, but the drunk boy couldn't seem to tell the difference. John worked around him, stroking and sucking gently, his fingers rubbing circles on Sherlock's scalp. He would have stayed there if Jack hadn't come over and said, "Time to go."

Sherlock pulled away, looking up at Jack, his eyes glazed over. He stood, leaning on the wall for support as he made his way out of the Hub. John grabbed their bags and left with Sherlock, sitting on the floor as the boy lay on the backseat, smiling a bit as they pulled away.

Ianto looked in the rearview mirror, making sure the drunk teenager was okay as he drove to his flat. John helped Sherlock out when they got there, keeping him from stumbling up the stairs. The Welshman followed the boys, making sure neither of them fell; once they reached his flat he let them in.

The place was very clean and small but comfortable. He showed them to the bedroom where he clearly hadn't slept in quite a while. "Sheets are clean, make yourselves at home."

"Thanks, Ianto," John replied, helping Sherlock onto the bed.

"No problem," he said, nodding curtly. "I'm just going to grab a few things and I'll be off. There's a telly in the living room and some food and things in the kitchen." He grabbed some clothes from the dresser before leaving them alone.

Sherlock lay on his stomach. "I love you John." He slurred, resting his head on the pillow.

John waited until he heard the door shut behind the Welshman before he toed off his shoes and climbed up next to Sherlock. "I love you too," he whispered back.

"I'm tired, can I sleep?" he asked.

"Yes, love. Sleep. I'll hold you."

Sherlock nodded, closing his eyes and quickly drifting to sleep. His breathing evened and his face looked slightly less worried than before. John pulled the comforter up over them, wrapping his arms around Sherlock and kissing the boy's forehead. "Sleep, love, I'll protect you." Soon, his breathing slowed and he was out, cradling the boy against him.

oOoOo

Ianto entered the hub again, seeking out Jack.

Gwen waved at Ianto as she left. "Night"

"Night." Ianto waved back. "Where's Jack?"

"Office."

Ianto nodded, waving again. "Thanks. See you in the morning." He hopped up the stairs, knocking on the door to Jack's office.

"Come on in, love," Jack called.

Ianto entered, sighing. "Hey."

Jack rose and crossed to him, kissing him hard and pulling him close. "Hey yourself," he whispered. Ianto wrapped his arms around his lover's neck. "I missed you."

"Missed you too." Jack rested their foreheads together. "D'you think they'll make it? The newlyweds? Sherlock's gonna have a hell of a time with this."

"I really hope so, Jack; they don't have much else."

"Knowing what he's going through, is there a chance?"

"I think so, John seems like a nice kid, and he did kill a man for Sherlock...I think it can happen."

"Good. Now, let's get some rest. Tomorrow...well, tomorrow we need to start them on training."

Ianto nodded, glad to get some rest with Jack. He followed him down to the bunker where they both changed into pajama bottoms and crawled into bed, Ianto falling asleep almost instantly with his head on Jack's chest; the immortal didn't shut his eyes that night.

Well then, there's that. Neither of us expected to do a non-con, but when the story starts to write itself, you just kind of have to hang on for the ride, you know? Leave comments and reviews please. We live for them. Next chapter will hopefully be up within the next week. Editing is slow going, but it's worth it for your reactions, so don't hesitate to share them.