Night time crept up on them. Gwen ordered take-out that then sat getting cold, because none of them had the stomach for food. Conversation was sparse at best, and eventually petered out entirely. And while the team tried to focus on the more mundane routine of paperwork, whilst taking it in turns to sit with Jack, Rhys busied himself with keep them all going with a steady flow of good, strong coffee.

It was nearing six in the evening when Tosh broke the near oppressive silence with an unhappy moan.

"Tosh?" Gwen asked tentatively.

"We've got a weevil alert," Tosh answered. "Three of them, in downtown Cardiff."

"Bloody typical," Owen grumbled. Reaching over, he switched on the intercom. "Ianto, get your arse back up here. We've got a weevil alert."

Ianto's voice came back laced with that special tone that suggested he thought that whoever he was talking to was an idiot.

"You, Gwen and Tosh are perfectly capable of dealing with one weevil, Owen. I'm not leaving Jack alone."

"There's not one weevil, Ianto, there's three of them! We need you with us, mate."

Silence, and then…

"I'm not leaving Jack alone."

Owen looked at his colleagues in frustration.

"Bloody stubborn sod…"

"I could stay with Jack," Rhys offered suddenly. When the others turned slightly incredulous stares on him, he shrugged. "I really don't mind. You all need to go do your thing, but you don't want to leave him alone. That's fair enough. So let me sit with him. I won't leave him alone, I swear."

Owen nodded, grateful all over again for Rhys' understanding.

"Thankyou."

Ten minutes later, Rhys found himself in that small room, sitting by the bedside and watching the sleeping captain with sympathy. Ianto had given up his place at Jack's side with extreme reluctance, and had gone only once he had extracted a solemn promise from Rhys that he would not leave Jack alone, even for a minute. It was a promise he had no intention of breaking.

Right at that moment, Jack was resting more or less peacefully, though Rhys suspected that was mostly because of the mild sedative that Owen had kept dosing him with throughout the day. The medic hadn't especially wanted to sedate him, but Jack's state of distress ever since that detective left had been too great to ignore.

Merry Christmas indeed, Rhys thought bleakly as he stared at Jack's pale and battered features. Earlier, he'd overheard Gwen and Tosh talking, expressing confusion that Jack had been alone at all. From what he could make out, Jack was supposed to have been spending Christmas with Ianto and his family. And yet, Jack had been on his own...

Rhys had a suspicion that Owen knew what was going on. The medic had done a very rapid disappearing act when that particular conversation began. On top of that, Owen had been throwing some fairly unpleasant looks in Ianto's direction, causing Rhys to wonder whether there wasn't trouble in paradise, so to speak. Really, though, the only thing that Rhys was certain of was that he didn't want to get involved. Whatever was going on, he didn't want to be caught in the middle of it.

A faint moan caught his attention, and he looked down to see Jack was stirring. He felt a brief moment of panic before he recalled what Owen had said. Jack's pain meds and sedative were on a strict timer. Even if he was in pain, it wouldn't be the case for too long, as the timer was set to trigger the next release of medication any minute. In the meantime, though...

"Jack?" Rhys asked, keeping his voice low and even. "You awake, mate?"

Slowly, Jack's eyes opened and, with some effort, managed to focus on Rhys.

"There was a weevil alert," Rhys told him in an effort to explain why he was there rather than one of Jack's team. "Three of 'em... So, I guess you're stuck with boring old me 'til they get back."

He couldn't be certain, but Rhys thought he saw a hint of amusement in the Captain's eyes. It lasted only a moment, though, and then Jack's eyes were flickering off to the side.

"What is it?" Rhys asked, and then wanted to smack himself for asking a question that Jack couldn't answer. Then, his gaze fell on the water jug. "You want some water, mate?"

One blink.

"Okay," Rhys murmured nervously. He poured some water into the glass, and then hesitated. "Can you drink through the straw?"

Jack didn't respond immediately. Up until now, he had gotten water through someone dripping it into his mouth. Now the truth was that he believed he could feel his mouth healing, and it was certainly better than it had been several hours ago. The pain that had been centred in that area was significantly diminished, but was it enough? Time to find out, he decided, and blinked once.

Looking a little on the unsettled side, Rhys held the glass close and placed the end of the straw between Jack's lips.
Jack winced as pinpricks of pain shot through his lips, but he didn't pull away. Deciding the pain was tolerable, he closed his lips around the straw as best as he could, and gently sucked. The water was cool, not cold, and felt incredibly soothing in his dry, sore mouth. There was some pain, but it seemed to fade even as he drew some more water from the glass.

By the time he indicated that he'd had enough, and Rhys took the glass away, he felt like he could just about manage a few words.

"Thankyou..."

Rhys blinked in astonishment. The word had come out fairly garbled, and sounded more like 'ank-oo', but he understood it nonetheless, and he also knew the fact that Jack had managed to say anything at all as a fairly big deal. Shaking himself back to reality, Rhys smiled encouragingly at the Captain.

"You're welcome. How's the pain, then? Is it bad?"

Jack took a brief moment to assess himself before answering in that same, tremulous voice.

"No."

He winced at the pain that spiked through his mouth, but it faded again quickly enough. Either the power of the vortex was finally acting to regenerate and heal his broken body, or Owen's cocktail of pain meds and sedatives had just kicked in. He hoped it was the former, and not the latter. If his body had, indeed, started to heal, then he would have another day or two, perhaps, to suffer this forced convalescence before he was back to normal.

He steadfastly refused to think about anything beyond the physical harm he'd suffered. Ultimately, he considered himself to be a soldier, and a good soldier did not allow himself to be affected by the actions of the enemy. Once his body was fully healed, he would be able to bury this entire incident in his mind, and pretend that it never happened. And maybe, just maybe, if he tried hard enough and long enough, he might even be able to convince himself of that.

Fresh pain that had nothing to do with his injuries spiked through Jack, and he made a concerted effort to put his focus into the physical here and now. He could overcome the physical traumas, no problems at all. Indeed, it seemed he'd already begun. The fact that he could speak again — even though it was just a few words — was an encouraging sign.

"I tell you what," Rhys said suddenly, his tone nervous, as though he was struggling to find a suitable topic. "That Ianto really cares about you, mate. Don't think he's left your side since we brought you back here... and Owen and Gwen had to practically drag him away to go lookin' for them weevils."

Jack felt a familiar, yet no so dull stab of pain deep in his gut at Rhys' words. It was true, each time he'd woken up it had been to find Ianto beside him, watching with a concern that Jack found it hard accept that he was really feeling. He wanted to believe Rhys, he really did. But if Ianto cared so much, then why had he pushed him away before Christmas?

"What is it?" Rhys asked, seeing the distress in Jack's face.

Jack tried to open his mouth again to speak, but it turned out to be one effort too many. Pain tore through his face, and his attempts to speak turned into a heartbreaking sob of pain.

"Ah, crap," Rhys muttered, running his fingers through his hair in anxiety. "Look, mate, I don't know what to do… Bloody useless to you, aren't I?"

"…un…" Jack managed to get out, and silently cursed his inability to form complete words.

At that moment, there was a distinct click, and Jack's IV was flooded with a pale pink substance. The timer had just gone, Rhys realised, triggering the release of a dose of painkillers and sedative. Jack would not be awake for much longer, and Rhys was surprised by the regret he felt at that.
Jack was still trying to speak, he realised, but the sedative was working quickly to put him back under.

"An… no…" Jack whispered, even as darkness claimed him once more. "Why…"

Rhys frowned as he tried to piece that together. Anno? He sucked in a sharp breath. No, not Anno. Ianto… Two words — 'Ianto' and 'why'. In those moments before losing consciousness, Jack had been trying to ask something either of or about Ianto, but what?

He shook his head, started to sit back, and froze. He was positive that even just a few minutes ago, there had been cruel puncture wounds lining Jack's cheeks. Now, there was nothing but clear, unblemished skin. Not even a bruise marked the flesh.

Leaning in close, his heart in his throat, Rhys watched as Jack's torn lips literally repaired themselves right before his eyes. Bruises, lacerations, puncture wounds — they all vanished as though they'd never existed, leaving Jack's face looking picture-perfect once more.

Heart pounding, Rhys looked down at the Captain's bandaged wrists, half-tempted to remove the gauze to see whether the same miracle had occurred there. In the end, though, he did nothing, not daring to touch the sleeping man for fear of disturbing him.

Whatever had just happened, whatever was going on, he would demand answers when the others came back. His thoughts went briefly to the last two words Jack had spoken before falling asleep once more. They all had a hell of a lot of explaining to do — perhaps Ianto, most of all.

tbc...