A/N: Some chapters in this fic are tending to be longer than others. This is one of the longer ones. I like to think that later chapters may be shorter on content, but still significant. More or less.
Owen, Tosh, Gwen and Rhys all arrived at much the same time, and Owen quickly found himself under siege for answers.
"Oi, hang on!" he burst out in agitation. "I know about as much as the rest of you. It was Ianto that called me. Now, let's quit jabbering and get in there."
Rueful looks were exchanged, and they headed into the hospital together.
"Ianto," Owen said, activating the Bluetooth earpiece as they walked in. "Where are you?"
"Third floor, Davidson Ward. Room Sixteen. Brace yourselves."
Owen couldn't quite suppress a shudder. He really didn't like the sound of that. Glancing at his companions, he saw similar looks of worry and concern in their faces.
"All right," he said grimly. "We're on our way up. Be there in two minutes."
Ianto heard the footsteps coming closer, and wished once more than he could have done more to prepare them for the shocking sight that awaited them. He suspected it was a pointless wish. He was doubtful that anything could really prepare them.
He turned just as the door opened, and Owen walked in.
"Fucking bloody hell..."
The expletive escaped his lips before he could stop, but Ianto only nodded understandingly. Gwen, Rhys and Tosh followed him, each one uttering a similar expletive. Gwen broke away immediately from Rhys, and hurried over to the bedside.
"Oh god, Jack..."
Owen walked around to the other side and, taking extra care, lifted one of Jack's eyelids just briefly.
"How long has he been out of surgery for?"
"About half an hour now," Ianto answered.
"He should've been showing signs of waking up by now, but he's still deeply unconscious," Owen muttered, more to himself than to any of the others. "Why is he still unconscious?"
"They sedated him," Ianto said by way of explanation.
"Sedated him? Why?" Tosh asked incredulously.
"Apparently when he woke up in Recovery, he tried to get up and walk out. They sedated him to stop him... although really, they shouldn't have needed to. The barbed wire damaged the nerves in his hands and feet. He couldn't have walked out of here even if they'd been willing to let him try. In fact, I think it's safe to say that he won't be going anywhere under his own steam for a while."
"I'm sorry," Rhys interrupted in a shocked voice. "Did you just say barbed wire?"
Ianto glanced briefly at Owen, and then nodded.
"Yes. Detective Swanson said he was bound and gagged with barbed wire. It's why he needed surgery. The wire was embedded in his skin, and had to be surgically removed."
"Okay," Owen said quietly. "First thing we have to do is get him out of here, and back to the Hub. Ianto, did you find out whether they'd taken any blood samples?"
Ianto fished into his pocket, and produced three phials of blood.
"Anything else was just incidental from the surgery. This was all they'd taken, but I do know the doctor assigned to Jack has ordered other tests."
"Not a moment too soon, then," Owen muttered. "Okay, Ianto, here. Take the keys to my car, and bring it around to the service entrance..."
"No," Gwen said quickly. "You only have a two seater, Owen. Rhys, get ours."
Rhys nodded, quickly catching on.
"That's right. We've got a station wagon. Lots more room. I'll go get it, bring it around."
He hurried out to do just that. Owen nodded.
"Okay, then. Tosh, there was a wheelchair out in the corridor. Go and get it. Ianto, help me here."
Between Owen and Ianto, they managed to lift Jack up into a sitting position, and from there they lifted him off the bed and into the wheelchair.
"Thank God he's unconscious," Owen said ruefully as they sat their unresponsive captain down carefully in the wheelchair. "Otherwise this'd be agony for him."
"What are we going to do with him when we get back to the Hub?" Tosh wondered. "We can't put him in his own room. We'd never get him down there without doing even more damage."
"There's another room," Ianto told them. "Jack let me have it early on. It's two levels down from the cells. There's a bed, and other amenities. He'll be comfortable there."
"Somewhere out of the way?" Gwen retorted sceptically. Ianto shook his head, trying to hide his irritation at the mere inference.
"No, not out of the way. Somewhere safe, somewhere that he'll feel protected. He's going to be vulnerable until his injuries heal, after all."
"Bloody hell, we're going to have to look after him, aren't we?" Owen growled as Tosh checked the way was clear. Ianto glowered at him.
"Do you have a problem with that, Owen?"
"Oh no, of course not. Why would I? Not like I've got a bloody life outside of work, anyway."
"Shut it, Owen," Gwen warned him. "We owe it to Jack to do this for him. Now, let's hurry up and get him out of here before someone happens along and raises the alarm."
Detective Swanson walked quickly along the hospital corridor towards Jack's room. She had been in the cafeteria with a barely passable cup of coffee when word had reached her that the rest of Jack's Torchwood team had arrived. She wasn't particularly keen on talking to them, but instinct warned that if she didn't, they might try something idiotic — like taking Jack out of the hospital and away from its expert care.
She supposed she could understand where they were coming from. but well-equipped though they might be, she doubted they were prepared for a situation like this. They may have had the best intentions, but right then Jack Harkness needed so much more than good intentions.
A colleague had called her not too long ago to let her know that Forensics had finished at the crime scene, and had queried why she was still there. Her reply had simply been that she was waiting for the doctor to conduct a test to determine whether Jack had, indeed, been sexually assaulted. The truth that she wouldn't admit to, though, was that she didn't want to leave. Haunted by the vision of Jack trapped on that filthy bed, in that dirty little room, she found she didn't want to leave until she'd heard some positive prognosis for him. Because, right at that moment, it seemed his chances were slim for any sort of recovery that didn't result in him being left crippled.
The idea of someone as alive as Jack Harkness being left crippled and broken gutted her, even with his sheer, annoying arrogance.
She reached the door of his room, and strode in with a confidence that she didn't honestly feel, bracing herself to deal with Jack's minions. Swanson froze just inside the room, though, barely able to believe what she was seeing. The bed was empty — Jack was gone.
Wheeling around, she ran back to the duty desk around the corner.
"Please tell me Jack Harkness has just been moved to another room."
The nurse, a no-nonsense matronly type, frowned up at her.
"Don't be ridiculous. The man has serious injuries. He's in no fit state to be moved anywhere."
Swanson leaned towards her over the desk.
"Then where is he?"
She watched as realisation dawned on the woman's face, and she went hurriedly to see for herself. Swanson watched with a growing weariness as the nurse came back half a minute later, her face black as thunder, and called security to alert them that a patient was missing.
It was pointless. Swanson knew, beyond any doubt, that Jack would not be found in the hospital or its surrounding areas. His team had arrived, and had done exactly what she had expected them to do. They had gone and smuggled Jack out of the hospital.
A faint sigh escaped her as she turned to leave.
"Bloody Torchwood," she muttered sourly as she went.
"How's he doing, then?" Rhys asked in genuine concern as he carefully negotiated another turn.
"He's stable," Owen answered as he once again checked Jack's vital signs. "I just hope we can get him back to the Hub before he wakes up."
"You can catch them, right?" Rhys asked. "The bastards who did that to him?"
Owen glanced up at Rhys briefly before turning his focus back onto Jack.
"We're going to find them," he swore softly to them man who lay unconscious beside him. "I swear it, Jack, we'll find them. They won't get away with this."
"You know, I thought once that he was sleeping with Gwen," Rhys said with an uneasy chuckle. With his focus on the road, he missed the way Owen winced.
"Yeah, well," Owen said, trying to keep his voice light, "I can't say he wouldn't have if she ever gave him the right signals… but she didn't, so he didn't. Jack might act like a twat sometimes, but he'd never take it past a bit of flirting if he didn't think the other party was interested. 'Sides, at the moment, Jack only has eyes for Ianto."
Rhys' eyebrows shot up.
"Ianto? Really? I asked Jack if he was gay, but I was only joking. I didn't think he really might be."
"He's not gay," Owen countered. "Well… not by our definitions. Come to think of it, I don't think we have a definition for Jack. He kind of defies categorisation, you know?"
"So when you say he's only got eyes for Ianto, what's that then? Some sort of passing fad?"
"No," Owen answered quietly, with conviction. "No, he loves Ianto. You can see it in his face whenever he looks at him. He'll still screw anyone that shows an interest, mind, but that's just Jack. Doesn't mean anything beyond having a good time. But with Ianto, he's different. He's way beyond the falling in and out of love stage. I think he's reached the 'I love him so much it hurts' stage. Kind of pathetic, in a way."
Rhys didn't crack a smile.
"There's nothing pathetic about love, Owen."
Owen was just suppressing an urge to roll his eyes when Jack suddenly stirred, and a distress moan issued from his torn lips.
"Ah, fuck," Owen swore. "He's waking up…"
"We're nearly there," Rhys told him. "I can see the others. Hang on."
In the back, Owen tried to hold Jack down as gently as he could, all the while speaking to him in a low, soothing voice.
"Jack, it's me, Owen. You're safe, mate. Do you understand me, Jack? You're safe. No one's gonna hurt you again. We've got you."
Slowly, Jack's eyes opened and finally managed to focus on the medic, albeit briefly. He started to open his mouth with the apparent intention of speaking. Owen could tell the exact moment when the pain of his injuries registered, for Jack's eyes suddenly widened and then glazed over, and a strangled and distorted scream erupted from his throat.
"Shit!" Owen exploded as Jack's heart rate trebled, and a violent convulsion shook the Captain's body. The young medic was so desperately trying to keep Jack still that he didn't notice that the vehicle had ceased moving, and that Rhys had pulled open the rear door of the station wagon to reveal the worried faces of his colleagues.
"Please, tell me one of you thought to bring up my medical kit?" Owen asked with desperation as Jack struggled in a blind panic. Tosh held it out to him, and he could have kissed her, had the situation not been so urgent.
"Thought you'd need it," she murmured, her attention fixed firmly on Jack.
"Tosh, you're a champion," Owen said as he took it from her. "Ianto, get in here, hold him down!"
Ianto quickly scrambled in and leaned over, placing his hands carefully on Jack's shoulders and trying hard to ignore the sobs of pain that the physical contact induced. Silence fell, and they all watched tensely as Owen filled a syringe with a sedative that he'd developed specifically for Jack. It was frighteningly effective, and within thirty seconds Jack had slipped once more into the welcome oblivion of sleep.
"All right," Owen murmured with a sigh of relief. "Let's get him inside before anything else happens."
Twenty minutes later, Owen was just finishing setting up the IV unit that he had brought in to hook Jack up to, replacing the enormous amount of blood that he'd lost with bags of Jack's blood that had been stored up over the years for just such an emergency. The sedative had so far proven effective, and Jack had mercifully remained deeply unconscious while they carried him down to the lower levels of the Hub and laid him in the waiting bed.
"This isn't so bad," Tosh remarked as she took a moment to look properly around the room where Jack was facing having to spend a significant amount of time. It wasn't, either. The walls, which normally would have been a dark grey, had been painted over with a soothing shade of blue. Soft bulbs had replaced the harsh glare of fluorescent lighting, and some simple furnishings, such as an armchair, a small bookshelf and a couple of pictures leant to a far homier atmosphere.
"Jack set this up for me himself," Ianto confessed. "Back when I was spending almost as much time in the Hub as he was. He said if I wouldn't go home, then he could at least make sure I had somewhere to go where I could have some privacy. There's an intercom connection in here, but no video surveillance."
"That was thoughtful of him," Tosh remarked, and Ianto smiled painfully.
"Not entirely. Why do you think there's a double bed in here?"
Owen snorted.
"Yep, that's our Jack. Set up a room, tell you it's private, and then try to seduce you in it. And can I just say right now, Ianto, that I really do not want to know whether you two have had sex in this bed."
Ianto regarded the medic disdainfully.
"As if I'd tell you."
"How is he, Owen?" Gwen asked, anxious to move the discussion forward. Owen sighed and sat back.
"He's stable, at least for now."
"What do we do, then?" Tosh asked. "We can't just leave him here."
"We'll have to take turns sitting with him," Owen decided. "I'll take the first watch. I want to keep an eye on his stats anyway. You lot might as well go back to your parties, or wherever you were." When none of them moved, Owen spoke again in irritation. "I'm serious, get out of here! There's nothing more you can do. I'll call you if I need to."
"Fine," Gwen said in resignation. "But Rhys and I'll be back tonight. Okay?"
"Whatever. Just go!"
Slowly, they filed out, until only Ianto remained. Owen frowned up at him.
"I meant you, too."
With some defiance, Ianto seated himself carefully on the edge of the bed.
"If I go, it will be back to the hospital, because that's where my family is. My sister in-law is in labour. That's how I happened to be there in the first place. They're not expecting me back there. Da said he'd call me to let me know when the baby's born. And anyway, I'm not leaving Jack."
Not again, he added to himself silently, bleakly.
"Fine," Owen conceded, too tired and too stressed to argue. "Probably better to have two of us here anyway. And since you're staying, I don't s'pose you could tear yourself away long enough to make some coffee?"
Ianto conceded, if only because he felt he could use some extra stimulation himself. With a lingering look at Jack, he got up and trudged out of the room.
Twenty minutes later, Ianto reappeared with two large thermoses and a container filled with an assortment of biscuits and pastries.
"My hero," Owen mumbled as he poured himself a large cup from the thermos Ianto handed him. After sating his immediate need for caffeine, Owen sat back with a satisfied sigh.
"How is he?" Ianto asked softly. He didn't especially expect the answer to be any different to what it had been half an hour ago, but he still felt the need to ask.
"No change," Owen answered. "No sign of accelerated healing." He shook his head. "Look at him, Ianto. Merry fucking Christmas."
Ianto said nothing, again feeling a sickening wave of guilt.
"You know, I may be wrong," Owen said suddenly, "and please correct me if I am, but wasn't Jack supposed to be spending Christmas with you and your family? Why the hell was he on his own?"
Ianto swallowed an almost reflexive desire to lie and say that Jack had changed his mind and pulled out. Besides the fact that Jack himself would be able to turn that story on its head as soon as he could talk again, Owen would never believe it. Jack had been far too excited about it for any of them to believe that he would have changed his mind.
"Ianto, what the fuck did you do?" Owen demanded softly.
"Family plans changed," Ianto mumbled lamely. Owen frowned, and then understanding dawned.
"You bastard, Ianto! You blew him off, didn't you! You invited him to spend Christmas with you, and then you blew him off!"
Ianto couldn't bring himself to look Owen in the eye, and the medic exhaled with an angry hiss.
"You fucker, Ianto."
He finally raised his eyes to meet Owen's gaze, with a mixture of anger and guilt.
"You don't understand, Owen..."
"Yeah, you're right, I don't. I don't understand how, when Jack has been making a real effort for you, you could turn around and kick him in the balls now. Do you know how much it meant to him that you'd invited him to spend Christmas with you? Do you even care?"
"How would you know?" Ianto snapped, the anger bubbling up inside him.
"Because, you twat, he told me! A week ago, when we were on stakeout for that rogue weevil. He wouldn't fucking shut up about it! Kept asking me stuff, like whether he should bring anything, and how he should dress... When I asked him what the big deal was, he said it was the first time he'd been invited to share Christmas Day with anyone for over a hundred years, and that he wanted to be sure that he didn't do anything to ruin it for you."
Ianto felt that coldness settle in his gut once more at Owen's words.
"Oh..."
"Yeah, exactly," Owen snarled. "He didn't want to ruin your Christmas. Well, I guess you made sure of that, didn't you? And I wondered why he'd been so quiet the last few days. Shit..."
Ianto sat stiffly, his throat threatening to close up on him. It was a good couple of minutes before he found the strength to speak again.
"It's my parents," he whispered. "They... They don't know."
"About what? You and Jack?"
"About me or any other man," Ianto mumbled. "They're ultra-conservative, Owen. Strict Catholics. I can't tell them, and Jack... He'd..."
As angry as he felt on Jack's behalf, at the same time Owen couldn't help but feel a spark of sympathy.
"Jack being Jack, he'd do something dumb. Okay, I get that. But why the hell didn't you just talk to him? He would have listened."
"I didn't want to hurt him!" Ianto choked out.
"Right. Because treating him like dirty laundry worked out so much better for you."
Feeling sick to his stomach, Ianto started to get up.
"I should go..."
"Oh no," Owen growled, grabbing hold of Ianto's arm and pulling him back. "No way, mate. You don't get out of it that easy. You're going to stay right here and help to look after him." He shook his head roughly. "Never thought I'd be defending Jack to you. Never thought you could be so fucking heartless, either."
"I didn't mean to hurt him, Owen," Ianto whispered, distraught. "I... I just didn't think it would matter. He always used to tell me he didn't do domestic, and I thought he was just humouring me when he accepted the invitation. I thought he'd be grateful to have the option out."
Owen didn't look at Ianto. He couldn't, not without feeling a renewed desire to wrap his hands around the Welshman's throat and throttle him until he admitted what an idiot he was.
"Yeah, well, you thought wrong. He really was looking forward to it, Ianto. He was really looking forward to not being alone. Instead, this happens to him." He shook his head again bitterly. "Merry fucking Christmas indeed."
The first coherent thought that Jack had as he came back to awareness was that he hadn't died. If he had, there surely would not have been anywhere near this much pain. Sure, he always experienced some residue pain upon returning to life, but it was nothing like this. This wasn't merely pain, it was agony - agony the likes of which he hadn't experienced since spending a year at the mercy of a deranged Time Lord.
Before he had a chance to begin to try and sort out the jumbled of memories that were assaulting him, he became dimly aware of a cool damp cloth rubbing oh-so-gently over his feverish skin. Slowly, he opened his eyes and was deeply grateful not to be assaulted by harsh, fluorescent lights.
He barely had time to wonder where he was when a familiar voice spoke.
"Welcome back."
He started to turn his head, but a flair of pain through his neck and skull put paid to that. The voice spoke again; softly, as though the owner knew how much pain he was in, and didn't want to add to it.
"Don't try to move or talk. It'll only hurt you worse than even you can handle. Um... Hang on."
He sensed movement beside him, and a moment later Owen's face appeared in his line of sight. The medic's face held an exhaustion that appeared bone deep, and he said as much to Owen... or tried to. The instant he tried to move his lips, pain tore through his mouth and radiated out across his face. He uttered a choked cry of pain and that, in turn, brought on a fresh wave of agony.
"Jack! Jack, listen to me! Calm down, you have to calm down!"
Jack seemed to be oblivious to Owen's attempts to calm him, though, and his heart rate continued to accelerate as he descended deeper into pain and panic.
"Fuck!" Owen exploded as he realised Jack was no longer consciously aware of his presence. Ianto, who had just walked in after refilling the thermoses, hurried over to the bedside.
"You try," Owen told him. "Try and calm him down, or I'm going to have to sedate him again."
"You really think he'd listen to me after the way I've treated him?" Ianto asked bleakly.
"I'm hoping he's not with it enough to remember. For fuck's sake, Ianto, will you just try?"
Swallowing his own distress, Ianto gently laid one hand on Jack's bruised and lacerated chest and pressed the other to the top of Jack's head, allowing his thumb to rub soothingly over the distraught man's forehead. Leaning down, he spoke into his ear in a husky, soothing whisper.
"Jack, love, hush. I'm right here, so just calm down. Can you hear me, Jack? Hush, now."
He continued to murmur into Jack's ear, and very gradually the other man calmed down and finally ceased his struggles.
"Thank God for that," Owen muttered with great relief.
Ianto didn't move, continuing to hover over Jack and stroking his forehead and temple lightly, leaning in at the same time to press feather-light kisses to his forehead.
"I'm sorry," Ianto whispered tearfully. "I'm so sorry, Jack."
Slowly, Jack's blood-shot eyes focused on Ianto, and the confusion there was all too easy to read.
"He doesn't remember, Ianto," Owen told him. "Just save the guilt trip for later, okay?"
"Do you think he remembers what happened to him?" Ianto asked hoarsely.
"God, I hope not," Owen muttered. He walked around, bringing himself back into Jack's line of sight.
"Jack, look at me."
He waited patiently until Jack's eyes were on him once more before speaking again.
"Can you blink, Jack? Once for yes, twice for no?"
There was just a moment's hesitation, and then Jack blinked once.
"Okay, good," Owen said. "Okay. Jack, do you know where you are right now?"
He was answered with two slow blinks.
"You're in the Hub, Jack. We brought you back here from St Michael's A & E. You were... You were badly hurt. Do you remember?"
Jack blinked once, and started to blink a second time when he froze. For a very long, painful minute, Ianto and Owen watched as the dawning realisation and horror played over Jack's face, and they braced themselves for another panic attack. It didn't happen.
As they watched, the shock faded into an expression of sheer misery and despair. A single tear made its way out of his bruised eye and rolled down his face, and he closed his eyes briefly, as though in a vain attempt to shut out reality.
"Yeah," Owen said softly. "You remember."
A soft noise that sounded very much like a whimper escaped Jack's lips. His eyes flickered back and forth between Owen and Ianto, as though seeking answers to questions that he was incapable of asking.
"You want to know how bad it is?" Owen guessed, and was answered with a single blink.
"Tell him," Ianto said quietly when Owen hesitated. The medic eyed him grimly before conceding and speaking to Jack once more.
"Look, Jack, it isn't good, but keep in mind that your body hasn't started healing yet, for whatever reason. Once it does, I reckon you won't be laid up for long. In the meantime, though, this is the bottom line. You've got severe nerve damage in your hands, feet and face. That barbed wire did a hell of a lot of damage."
"Jack, can you feel this?" Ianto asked as he closed his hands around the fingers of Jack's right hand and squeezed lightly. "Can you feel me holding your hand?"
Distress filled Jack's face, and he blinked twice. Ianto released his hand, and instead went back to caressing Jack's temple and forehead.
"Can you feel this?"
One slow blink, and gradually the distress began to fade.
"I'm going to take care of you," Ianto promised, leaning in to again kiss him on the forehead. "I promise you. Don't be scared, Jack. I won't leave you alone."
Jack's eyes slid shut, soothed and reassured by the tender touches.
"I'm putting a mild sedative through your IV, Jack," Owen told him quietly. "It'll help you to rest, without putting you too deeply under. Okay?"
A single blink. Neither Owen nor Ianto were particularly surprised at Jack's acquiescence. The pain he was in radiated out from him in veritable waves, and it was no surprise that he would welcome any relief from it.
The sedative worked quickly, and within a minute Jack was asleep once more.
"There is one way he would heal faster," Ianto said tentatively, watching Owen out of the corner of his eye. The medic raised his eyebrows, knowing instantly what Ianto was talking about.
"Unless you want to do it yourself, Ianto, then forget it. I already killed him once. I can't do that again... even knowing he'll come back, I just can't."
"I didn't mean you'd have to shoot him," Ianto argued. "What about a lethal dose through the IV? He'd never even know we'd done it until he woke up again."
Owen rounded on him angrily.
"Oh, well, stupid me for not realising how simple it was! Bloody hell, Ianto... You think that's the fix-all solution, then go ahead. You do it."
Ianto faltered at that, and Owen couldn't resist a sneer.
"You can't, can you? Fucking hypocrite."
Ianto didn't respond, and instead stared at his hands and tried to picture himself killing Jack. Putting a gun to his head and pulling the trigger... Holding something over his face and suffocating him... Or even, as he'd suggested to Owen, simply injecting a lethal dose of something through the IV. The thoughts made him physically sick, and he knew Owen was right. Despite knowing the end result, he would never be able to carry it through.
"Can we just forget that idea now?" Owen asked coolly.
"So we just let him suffer," Ianto said bitterly, as annoyed at himself as he was with Owen. "Jack has to suffer because we don't have the stomach to kill him. Again."
"Get off your high horse, Teaboy," Owen snapped, and got roughly to his feet. "I'm going for a walk. Call me if anything happens."
And then he was gone, leaving Ianto alone with their stricken Captain. Ianto didn't watch him go. His attention was exclusively on Jack. Reaching over, he once again began soothing caresses to Jack's temple, taking care to avoid the bruised, punctured and torn flesh of his face.
"I'm sorry, Jack," he whispered. "I'm so sorry."
tbc...