Jack and Ianto sat desolate among the ruins. Every time they attempted to organize the shards, they would cut into Jack, and shatter into smaller pieces. Ianto watched Jack's face twist in anguish at each voice: echoes of tormentors, lost relationships, lost chances, lost love. As much as Ianto yearned for Jack's company, he did not wish to see him trapped here.
"I'm not getting back, am I," Jack said in a flat tone. He watched as a light breeze mix the smaller fragments.
"Let's rest awhile," Ianto said with encouragement. "Come up with another plan."
"The Adyan Commander was thorough," Jack said bitterly. "I'll give her that." He frowned as he gazed at the ground around him sparkling with splinters of trauma, razor-sharp.
"What's that?" inquired Ianto as he stood to get a better view.
"What?"
"Over there." He pointed. "On the horizon."
A small whirlwind was gaining momentum, growing in size. As it moved along the landscape it sucked up the shards into a glittering mass.
"Oh gods, the Commander is back," gasped Jack as he scrambled to his feet. "That's going to hurt like hell when it gets to me."
Ianto put his arm around Jack's waist. "The memories do not slice into me like they do you. When it comes to us, make yourself as small as possible and I'll protect you face. OK?"
They watched in dread as the whirlwind increased into a tornado coming closer and closer. They dropped to the ground when it came towards them, Ianto covering Jack's face and neck with his chest and arms. Instead of moving past them, the twister lifted, skipped their bodies, and settled around them. The center was still while the funnel roared around them as a golden yellow light arced above. As they watched in wonder, the multicolored shards separated as if they were drawn to a magnet, a magnet for each color pulling the fragments back into place.
"That's not Adyan psychic energy," cried Jack. "That's Gallifreyan! It's the TARDIS!"
Other materials swarmed in the walls of the twister as it towered above them, with the pair safely in the center eye of the storm. Soon the winds diminished and the churning slowed.
"What is it doing?" asked Ianto as he watched shapes being formed. "Those are not the boxes."
"It is a 'she', Ianto. A little respect." Jack stared in wonder as the walls began to form. The house looked like it was created out of random cubes, several stories high, gleaming white walls glistened in the light.
"It is no house that I've ever seen."
"That's because it hasn't been built yet." Jack choked, tears edging into his eyes. "It's the house my father built…on the Boeshane Peninsula. It's the last place I…"
Ianto continue to stare as the building grew up into the sky.
"My father was the chief architect for the colonists," Jack whispered. "He built it to protect all of us." He put his hand over his eyes as he squinted. "See that box jutting out on the third floor? That was our apartment. We could see the coastline from there. That's the last…"
Ianto turned to him. "Jack, what is it?"
"It is the last place I felt protected…" Jack said softly. "Safe. Before they came. Before they killed him and took Gray..." The winds slowly dissipated as the construction slowed, then stopped. Finally only a softly twisting spite of a whirlwind danced before them.
"Jack." The voice softly carried on the golden light strands of light in the twisting wind.
"Ianto, did you hear that?"
"No." Ianto squinted. "Hear what?"
"It's the TARDIS. Kira."
Ianto stepped back from the Captain straining to hear to no avail. He watched as Jack's expression shift from wonder to dread, and back again until the whirlwind snaked up towards the sky, and disappeared. Finally Jack turned back to him. Ianto waited for him to speak.
"The memories that were in the boxes are still here, but she has built a house for me with many rooms to hold them." Jack turned back to stare at the house. "But this time there are doors so I can enter…when I'm ready to face them.
"When you go back," Ianto moved closer to him. "When you go back, there will be more."
Jack was quiet and then turned to Ianto. "She said not to worry," he said with a wry smile. "She said I was bigger on the inside, and more rooms would be created…And you would help me. You know, organize the memories, face them."
"Of course I'll help you, I've always had your back." Ianto's face lit up. "And I'm an archivist, aren't I? If I could organize Torchwood, I…" His hand passed through Jack's arm. The Welshman stepped back. It was beginning. Jack turned his face towards Ianto in confusion and began to dissolve.
"Jack! Remember me!" he cried as Jack's body disappeared before him. "Jack!"
The young Welshman stood alone. He looked sadly at the spot that Jack had stood, then turned to make his way to the house, the house Jack's father built to protect his son.