John held out his hand, palm up.
"Show me," he said, "before Jack gets back."
Ianto placed the leather pouch in John's upturned palm and the former time agent turned it over in his hand. The pouch was actually a roll, John noted, one piece of leather tied up with a bit of string, with variously sized compartments on the underside. He pulled on the string and the knot came undone easily. He unrolled the packet, raising an eye-brow at the contents - a small bottle, a syringe, several needles and a thin leather strip. He frowned in confusion wondering why Ianto was forced to use such primitive methods when hypo-syringes were readily available in this time period.
"Let me see your arm," he said.
Ianto hung his head. He rolled his sleeve up and held out his arm without looking up. A line of needle marks trailed along it, leading from the wrist to the inside of the elbow. The marks stood out in stark contrast to the pale Welsh skin.
"Didn't Jack notice these," John asked, grasping the arm, "In the hotel room, when you were..."
Ianto shrugged.
"Jack only sees what he wants to see."
"Fucking typical," John muttered as he rolled the sleeve back down and let go of the arm. He took the bottle from the pouch and unscrewed the top, holding it up to his nose.
"Hmmm," he said, "smells a little like something I used to use in the old days to wind down, but that hasn't even been invented yet. I'm not sure what it is, but I've got a contact in the 51st Century who could help us identify it. He's a doctor who owes me a favour. We could get him to give you the once over while were there too. Just as a precaution, to make sure you're not carrying anything."
"Thank you," Ianto sniffed, touching John lightly on the arm.
"Don't thank me." John growled, "We both know why I'm doing this. I've wanted you since the first time I stuck a gun in your head in that office block. You were so fucking hot, I came this close to saying fuck the canisters and taking you there and then in the lift. If this is the only way I can have you so be it, but let's not make out what I'm doing is in anyway noble."
Ianto let his arm drop back down to his side and nodded sadly, missing the look on John's face as he put the bottle back in the pouch and slipped it into his pocket.
"Hey, I need that," Ianto cried.
"I know you do," John sympathised, "but we may have to synthesize it and we'll need a sample to do that."
"but..."
John sighed, "Have you been through withdrawal before," he asked.
The younger man nodded.
"The resorts, the people who run them, they're not bad people. Not really, they just have different values. They don't mistreat you but they'll turn their backs on you in a second if you're not profitable. They'll sell you to a trader in the blink of an eye and those traders don't give a damn. They won't pay out for drugs if they don't have to. They give you just enough to take the edge off and keep you hooked but it hurt likes hell and....." Ianto gulped and breathed heavily, looking at John pleadingly. "I can't go through that again."
The former time agent hooked a hand around his neck and pulled him in, holding him in place with an arm around his waist.
"Shh," he whispered, placing a soft kiss on Ianto's forehead, "I can help you with the withdrawal symptoms if you like but you have to trust me. It won't take it away completely but it will help. Do you trust me, Ianto?"
"I suppose."
He lead the younger man over to one of two benches on either side of the ship's passenger area and sat down, patting his lap.
"Lie down" he said.
"You want me to rest my head in your lap?" Ianto scoffed.
"You said you trusted me," he replied, sounding hurt.
Ianto thought about it for a moment and then shrugged. He lay down on his back with his knees bent up and his head resting awkwardly on John's lap.
"Not like that," John huffed. "Relax."
The Welshman groaned but shifted his weight into a more comfortable position, his upper body facing slightly away from the other man and his legs bent at the knees but lying flat on the bench.
"Now, close your eyes," John instructed, resting his palm on his forehead.
Ianto did as he was told and immediately felt an overwhelming sense of peace flooding through him. Everything melted away except for John's overpowering scent and the silky feel of the palm against his forehead. The gentle thrum of the engines lulled him into a restful slumber.
"What is that?" he mumbled, sleepily.
"Shh, just rest, sweetheart."
Before long Ianto gently drifted off and John felt a lump in his throat as he tenderly stroked the Welshman's hair and watched him sleeping. Even after everything the boy had been through he was so fucking innocent. John knew he was a piece of work for taking advantage of it, but he wasn't going to let that stop him he thought bitterly.
Jack scowled when he came out of the shower room a few moments later and found them like that.
"What the fuck is going on," he growled.
"Hush, you'll wake him." John scolded, "He's sick Jack. Ianto is sick. He needs to see a doctor."
Ianto held on tightly to Jack as the ship dissolved around them.
"You okay?" the immortal asked.
"Hmmm," Ianto replied distractedly, taking in their new surroundings. The sterile, pinkish walls, wooden floors and faint disinfectant smell told him they had transported to the hospital where John's doctor friend worked. He marvelled at how some things never change. Even in the 51st Century a hospital was still a hospital.
"I said are you okay?" Jack asked again.
"Oh, yeah, just amazed at how nothing changes. This looks like any hospital in the 21st Century. We could be standing in Cardiff Royal right now."
As he was speaking a man wearing pyjama bottoms and a dressing gown waddled past. He was about Ianto's age and height and was sporting a scruffy beard and long blond hair tied back in a ponytail. He was also heavily pregnant.
"Okay," Ianto grinned, "maybe not."
"Right," John said, "I'm going to go and find us a coffee while you two check in." He winked at Ianto and when he was sure Jack wasn't looking, he patted the pocket where he had stashed the gear. Ianto smiled at him and mouthed "thank you." He felt an enormous sense of relief. The last three days had been better than he had expected, thanks to John's ministrations but it had still been difficult. Convincing Jack he was ill hadn't been that hard since he had felt terrible most of the time. The rats had been gnawing at his stomach again and he hadn't eaten in days. He shivered.
"Are you sure you are okay," Jack asked.
"I will be," he smiled happily. Although the rats were still there, they were quiet for the moment and Ianto felt almost euphoric with the knowledge that they could be gone for ever by the morning.
A male nurse wearing blue scrubs approached them.
"Ah, you must be Mr Jones," the nurse said. "We've been expecting you. Won't you come with me?"
He smiled, the kind of smile that only professional health care workers seem to be able to do. The one that says everything is fine, nothing bad is about to happen.
Ianto felt Jack's hand in the small of his back as the two of them followed the nurse into a side room. Like the rest of the hospital, the room looked much liked you would expect a hospital room to look, baring a few small bits of equipment which Ianto didn't recognise. He sat on the bed while the nurse showed him the bathroom and told them about mealtimes and visitors. Ianto wasn't really listening as he bounced up and down on the bed.
"Oh, that's okay," he grinned, "I'm not staying. Once I've seen the doctor I can go."
The nurse smiled tightly and nodded. He looked at Jack who looked away and sighed.
"What?" Ianto asked.
"I'm sorry."
"What?" Ianto frowned, "What are you sorry for?" He shrugged, looking at Jack questioningly. His gaze shifted to the doorway as John appeared.
"John?" Ianto asked him, "what does he mean, what is he sorry for?"
John rubbed the back of his neck and leaned against the door jam.
"Please understand," he said, "it's for your own good."
Ianto's eyes widened as he stared at John.
"Oh god. No, no, no, no," he moaned.
He made a dash for it but John tackled him and dragged back to the bed. As John firmly held him in place, he kicked out and looked around wildly, his eyes alighting on the nurse who was preparing a syringe. He managed to break one arm free, grabbing hold of the man's tee-shirt and yelling at him.
"Please, you've got to help me," he begged, "these men.....I," he gulped, "I have no idea who they are. They kidnapped me. I've got to get back."
The nurse looked down at the hand fisting his top, then looked up at the two men. His eyes narrowed.
"A little help here gents."
Jack walked around the bed and pulled Ianto's hand away, holding it face up on the bed. Ianto struggled briefly but then the fight seemed to go out of him and he gave a huge heaving sob as he let himself go limp.
As the hypo-syringe pierced his arm, Ianto felt light headed. He closed his eyes briefly before opening them again. The last thing he saw before his eyes closed for the final time was John's face leaning over him, a silent tear running down the older man's cheek. He glared at him.
"I trusted you," he whimpered.