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The forest was clearly old, and though the moon was waxing and soon to become full, it was dark enough to obscure Jack's vision. The great trunks of the trees were little more than formless shapes, the leaves merely shadows. He trudged on, though, squinting to see the roots that twisted like still snakes on the forest floor, fearless of the dark and the sounds of snuffling animals. The night was cool and soothing, and Jack let his sorrow melt away.

It was Red that found him, oddly enough. Tethers were rather unnecessary, given Daine's power, but even still, the horses tended to stay close to camp. Jack tensed at the sound of a cracking branch behind him. He jumped and spun when he felt something hard and strong brush his shoulder blades. As he turned, drawing his revolver, he caught sight of the horse's dappled fur and the glinting brown eyes.

"Red," he sighed, straightening and tucking the gun away. "I thought horses liked to stay with each other."

Red huffed, as if disagreeing. He rested his nose on Jack's shoulder and then, to Jack's shock, drew back and bit him, hard.

"Ow!" Jack cried, leaping back. "What was that for?" The horse snorted derisively, flicking his ears. "You're scolding me for wandering off," Jack muttered, rubbing his shoulder and straightening out his coat. The protection spells held; the shoulder pad wasn't even damp from Red's mouth.

The horse glared at him.

"It can't be that dangerous," Jack told him, turning blithely and continuing his walk. Red, of course, followed at his shoulder. "I mean, seriously. Spider people, and Immortal things in the dark? Please. It can't be any worse than weevils in the sewers. Or—or, hell, my own brother." He laughed bitterly into the night, his breath fogging in the chilly evening air. "Or John bloody Hart." Jack scowled and stepped over a root. Red nickered, sounding concerned.

"I couldn't stay there," Jack told the horse flatly, unsure if he was talking about Torchwood or the fire pit, where Alanna's questions had started to hit close to home. Perhaps it was both. "It was too—" he sighed. "I couldn't stay. Besides, it's a nice night and I bet you if we reach a clearing, we'll be able to see the stars, whaddya say, Red?"

The horse nudged his shoulder chidingly.

"Yeah," Jack agreed, stopping short and looking around the shadowy forest. The wind whispered through the leaves, which cast eerie shadows. "I don't suppose there are any clearings nearby, huh? Pity."

Red regarded him, ears pricked forward and eyes sparkling in the faint moonlight. His dappled coat was emphasized in the darkness, white and gray hair creating c-shaped patterns down his unsaddled back. The gelding looked magical in this light, like a child's fantasy. Jack sighed and reached out to stroke the horse's soft nose, and memories rose around him like morning mist.

"He would've loved you," Jack whispered, throat suddenly thick. The name of his grandson stood on the tip of his tongue, and Ianto's image strolled, smiling, into the view of his mind's eye. He meant both, he meant neither; Jack didn't know which he spoke about, or even if it mattered. Maybe it was neither; maybe it was his brother, stolen so long ago, or the Doctor with his cold eyes or any number of 'hes' that Jack had lost in his very, very long life. "You have to understand. I had no other choice." He swallowed.

The horse gently lipped at his palm and they shared a quiet moment. Then, from depths of the dark forest, a twig snapped.

Red's head jerked up, ears pricked forward. His muscles went stiff. Jack pulled out his revolver.

"Who's there?" he called into the night. Red snorted nervously and the wind whispered through the leaves. Jack looked at his horse. "Go back to camp," he instructed. "Tell Daine there's something in the forest." The dappled gelding stared out, ignoring him. "Red!" Jack hissed.

Red looked down at Jack, then bared his teeth and flattened his ears, a refusal if Jack ever saw one.

"Don't be stupid," Jack scolded. "You're a horse, and I'm armed just fine. Now go!"

There was no response and then, suddenly, Red squealed, spinning and rearing. Jack whirled.

It was a spidren, of course. The great black spider had a man's head, teeth bared in a parody of a smile. Something small and white hurled itself out of a tree, transforming mid-leap into a bird, flapping at the creature's face. "Run!" it cried in Daine's voice.

"Daine, get out of the way!" Jack roared and Daine didn't need telling twice. The bird leaped free, and as the spidren reared, exposing some kind of spinneret; Jack shot it once, and once was all he needed. The loud crack of the gun echoed in the night, scaring birds and bats out of trees. The Immortal made a choking sound as the bullet passed clean through its neck, and then, slowly, it fell over, legs jerking as it died. Red gave a small, alarmed whinny.

"I told you to run," Jack growled at his horse, gun still drawn. Then he called, "Daine?"

A bat fluttered at him. Jack, slightly bemused, held out his other hand and it landed, upside down, grasping his fingers with tiny claws. "Are you alright?" it asked in Daine's voice.

"Yes. Were you following me?" Jack snapped at the animal, flipping on the safety and jamming the gun back into his belt. He checked his pocket; he didn't have any other bullets, besides the four lift in the barrel. Jack cursed very quietly.

"We should get back to camp," the Daine-bat said. "There are three more, and one of them is female. Red, are you alright?"

The horse huffed.

"He says that you should take better care of yourself," Daine translated and Jack scowled. "And that yes, it is that dangerous."

"You were eavesdropping," He accused angrily as they made their way back to camp.

"No," Daine replied. "I was too far away. I was just there to make sure that you didn't do anything stupid."

Jack stormed furiously over the roots that twisted on the ground, Red huffing to keep up with his angry stride. "I'm armed, in case you've forgotten," he told the Daine-bat sourly. "I can take care of myself."

"You shouldn't wander alone at night," Daine replied firmly. "Even I don't like to do it, and the entire population of forest animals would come to my rescue, if I asked them to."

Jack scowled again, and they walked in silence. The fire flickered visibly through the trees as they approached camp when Daine spoke.

"I'm sorry Alanna brought up your past," she said quietly. "I'll have a talk with her, alright? Unless you want to talk about it."

"I don't want to talk about it," Jack muttered stiffly. Red nickered behind him.

"He says that you should," Daine's voice was soft.

"Tell him I say that I shouldn't," Jack snapped. They'd reached camp. Kitten broke away from Numair with a loud, angry whistle and raced towards them, chattering furiously. Daine sighed and took flight from where she was hanging onto Jack's forefinger, coming to rest on Numair's outstretched hand.

"Don't you ever do that again!" the mage scolded, cupping the Daine-bat in his palm and holding her to his chest. "You scared me to death!"

Jack blinked and looked down when he felt something on his thigh. Kitten had reared up onto her hindquarters, her front paws braced on his legs. She proceeded to whistle and chatter shrilly at him, her scales turning red with fury.

"I'm not going to apologize," Jack growled at the dragon.

"You should," Alanna said softly. Jack looked up at the Lady Knight. Firelight played off her oddly-colored eyes, and her face was cast half in shadow. Numair was exclaiming over Daine's recklessness, and although Alanna's voice was quiet, Jack heard her perfectly. "You scared us all."

Red came up behind him and nudged his back, hard enough for Jack to stumble forward. He turned around and scowled at his horse. "I don't need you all to worry about me," Jack muttered sourly, sitting down. "I do that enough myself."

Kitten whistled again, walking up to him and sitting herself firmly in his lap. Jack took a deep steadying breath, looking wide eyed at the dragon-child that had attached herself to him. Oh, god, she needed to get off him, he needed to get away…

"Like it or not," Alanna told him, her quietly intense voice commanding Jack's attention, even as he quietly panicked at the young dragon's close proximity, "You have friends now, although I can't imagine why if this is how you treat us. Stop calling yourself undeserving, stop telling us that we're going to die and deal with the fact that we actually care about you, or at least Daine and Numair do. Their friends are my friends, so I'm looking out for you too. Do us a favor and don't force us to save you, because then we will probably get hurt. That's what you keep on trying to prevent, isn't it?" She looked at him challengingly, daring him to disagree. Kitten, in his lap, shrilled in agreement.

Jack swallowed and tried not to tremble. Why was it that he always seemed to find people who would stand by him, even if he didn't want them? "I can't get rid of you, can I?"

"No," Daine said, back in human form and clothed. "No you can't." Numair tucked an arm around her protectively, but he met Jack's eyes and nodded, slowly.

Jack looked down at Kitten in his lap and lost the battle; the tremor was clear in his voice. "We should go to sleep," he said softly, instead of warning them. Instead of telling them that he was a murderer, that he had a tendency to sacrifice his friends and family for the greater good, he said, "we have an early day tomorrow."

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