Jack staggered into the corridor and collapsed on to a hard plastic chair, slumping forward and holding his head in his hands. He felt utterly shattered and barely registered when John came and sat down beside him.

"He'll be okay," his friend assured him.

He stayed hunched forward but turned his head to the side to look at the other man.

"Did you hear?" he moaned, "did you hear what he said. He'd rather go back there, to that place, than come home with me."

"No," John shook his head, "That's just the drugs talking. When it takes a hold of you, you'll do anything for a fix. Back when I was using I would have sold my own kids to get high."

The immortal hitched a small laugh.

"How are Kyla and Jake?" he asked.

John didn't reply but shrugged his shoulders gloomily.

"Ah, I'm sorry."

"I haven't seen them for over a year. Their Mom won't let me anywhere near them, says it upsets them too much."

Jack wrapped an arm around his shoulder and pulled him close, kissing the top of his head while the two men shared a moment or two of silence.

"What about you," John said, pulling away, "I never asked before, Do you have children now?"

"Just the one, as far as I know. A daughter named Mellisa. At least she was Mellisa, but I have to call her Alice now. Long story. She has a son called Stephen but he doesn't know who I am; he thinks I'm her brother. I try to see them when I can but I don't think she wants me around. I'm expecting any day now she'll tell me not to come back."

"Does Ianto know about her?"

"God, no. Alice is 15 years older than him, I don't want to freak him out."

"Um, he's with an immortal man from the 51st Century who is over 150 years old. I don't think he could be any more freaked out."

"Yeah, you're probably right," Jack grinned, "If we get through this, I'll tell him. By the way why are we here?"

"What do you mean? we're here for Ianto, of course?"

"No I mean why here. It's not that I don't trust your judgment; I just wondered why here and not some other facility."

Before John could reply the door at the end of the corridor opened and a man with fair hair and piercing blue eyes stepped through it.

"This is why we're here," he said, nodding towards the newcomer.

"Jamal!" The man grinned, grabbing hold of his hand and shaking it vigorously, "it's good to see you. How are you?"

"I'm fine, Dr Henderson, but it's John now."

"Ah yes of course, John, and who's this?"

"Jack, he's the partner of the young man I told you about. Jack, this is Doctor Henderson. He saved my life."

"Oh, Come now."

"It's true," John insisted. "I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for him. Dr Henderson is a Rehab Doctor, he runs the only rehab program that's ever stuck with me. That's why I've brought Ianto here. If he can cure me he can cure anyone."

"I will do my best," the doctor said, turning his attention to the immortal, "but despite what John says, it's really up to Ianto and it won't be easy. He'll probably be very angry for a while. After what was left of the Time Agency dumped John on me he was furious for the first six months."

"Six months," Jack gasped. "I didn't think we'd be here that long."

"Well, John was a particularly bad case," he said, touching the former time agent on the shoulder, "hopefully your friend won't be as bad as that." He gave them a reassuring smile. "Try not to worry. The sooner we get started, the sooner we'll know what we're up against."

Ianto lay perfectly still and cracked open one eye, surreptitiously checking out his surroundings. It was a habit he had picked up from childhood. Growing up with a violent, alcoholic father had taught him to always see how the land lied before alerting anyone else to his state of wakefulness, risking a further beating just for being alive. His nose had already picked up Jack's familiar scent over the faint antiseptic smell, so he wasn't surprised to see his lover slumped over in a chair beside the bed. He gently lifted the sheet, noting that he was wearing thin pyjama bottoms and a tee-shirt. As quietly as he could he slipped out from under the covers, holding his breath when Jack appeared to stir and only continuing when he was sure the other man wasn't going to wake up. He looked around the room, trying to locate his shoes and clothes, and finding them in a locker by his bed, he gathered them up in his arms and tiptoed barefoot towards the door.

"Going somewhere Ianto?"

Ianto sighed. He turned around, dropped the clothes on an empty chair and climbed back into bed, pulling the covers over his head.

"Where did you think you were going anyway?" Jack asked him gently. He put his hand on the younger man's shoulder, "there's no where to go and you have no credits."

"Where's John?" Ianto mumbled, shucking the hand away.

"He's taken a job, said he'd be back in a week or so. We need the money since we don't have any local currency and we spent quite a bit finding you."

"He's hiding out, more like," Ianto scoffed, "doesn't want to face me, the bastard."

He got out of bed and went over to the bathroom, slamming the door and locking it behind him.

After a few minutes Jack knocked on the door.

"Ianto, please. Come on out."

"I'm having a fucking slash, piss off."

"Since when have you been so crude," Jack frowned.

"Oh, I dunno," Ianto replied, unlocking the door and flashing Jack an evil leer, "the customers seemed to like it."

Jack tightened his jaw and looked away.

"What?" Ianto snarled.

"I just don't like thinking of you.....you know, with other people."

"Yeah?.......Hurts doesn't it."

"Ianto, I never......"

"Don't bother," the younger man interrupted, "I've heard it all before and I'm not interested anymore so why don't you just piss off and leave me alone."

"Ianto..."

"I SAID FUCK OFF!"

A week later, Jack was steeling himself outside Ianto's room, one hand on the door handle. He was never sure what he was going to find when he visited. Sometimes his young lover would be weeping and crying in a state of overwhelming grief and other times he'd be a furious ball of pent-up rage and angst, and on top of it all he'd usually be begging and pleading for something to take away the pain. Yesterday had been a particularly bad day because Ianto was refusing to either eat or keep his IV lines in and the nurse had threatened him with force feeding. Jack had had his own emotional outburst yelling for someone to do something and Dr Henderson had to be called. He had calmed everyone down, explaining that the young man needed to reach rock bottom before they could start building him up again.

Jack took a deep breath. He opened the door...and immediately closed it again when a glass jug flew through the air at him. The jug exploded on the other side of the door and he carefully cracked it open once more, sticking his head into the room.

"Fuck off, I don't want to see you today."

Ignoring the young Welshman, Jack moved further into the room, the glass crunching under his booted feet as he walked over it. He stepped back into the corridor and called to a passing nurse to send someone to clean it up. He sat down in the chair by Ianto's bed and the younger man huffed, turning his back on him while he kept up a one sided conversation.

"Just shut up. For Fuck's sake just shut up," Ianto yelled.

"Sorry, I just....."

"Take me home," Ianto pleaded.

"I can't, not yet. You might not think so but this is the best place for you at the moment."

The Welshman sat up and folded his arms across his chest in a strop.

"You're ashamed of me," he sniffed.

"No, why would you think that."

"You're going to keep me here forever. I was better off on Terrellian. At least I could leave my room there."

"You can leave your room if you want and you're not going to be here forever, only until you're better."

"I'm fine."

"You're not."

Ianto huffed again and an uncomfortable silence hung over them.

"Knock, knock," someone said from the doorway.

"Thank god you're back. I was getting tired of talking to myself." Jack said.

John stepped tentatively into the room.

"How are you, Ianto," he asked.

The younger man looked up at him with puppy dog eyes, "It hurts," he whimpered.

"Do you want me to help?"

Ianto pouted and John felt a surge of affection, struck by how young he looked. The boy nodded sadly and the former time agent looked at Jack, making a small movement of his head towards the door. Jack folded his arms and glared back refusing to move, causing John to raise an eyebrow at him. After a few moments, the immortal relented, sighing heavily as he stood up.

"Fine," he growled, "I was going to get a coffee anyway."

Things improved very quickly once John was back. The petulant side of Jack was irked that it wasn't him that had brought about the miraculous recovery, but the realistic side was pleased that John's special skill was helping the young Welshman. Ianto was much less angry with everyone now and everyday he got a little bit stronger. They'd even shared a few hesitant kisses. Dr Henderson had started therapy sessions and Jack was hopeful that they could take him home soon. However one thing bothered him, it was just that he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was.

"Hey, Ianto," he kissed him on the forehead.

"Where's John?"

"He'll be along in a minute. Chatting to some young nurse in the corridor."

"Oh," Ianto looked disappointed.

"Hey. You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good. How's things in the outside world."

Jack smiled gently at him.

"You do know," he said, "that bringing you here was the right thing to do. John and I just want you to be well."

"Yeah, I know that now. I was angry at first but I know you only want what's best for me. On the estate, where I grew up, a lot of my friends ended up on drugs. I swore that would never happen to me."

"It wasn't your fault, Ianto."

"I know."

"Hey," John walked in waving a bit of paper, "got that cute nurse's phone number," he beamed.

Ianto's bottom lip quivered as he watched the paper flapping about and Jack thought he saw something strange pass across his face. He stared at his young lover, frowning as the cog wheels in his brain started to slowly whir. Something about the way Ianto looked at that bit of paper hinted at what had been bothering him ever since John had returned from his last Job. All at once, as Jack watched the little scene play out, the final cog clicked into place. He threw himself out of the chair so violently that it fell over clattering on the wooden floor. A low guttural sound escaped his lips and he stabbed at John with an accusing finger.

"You bastard..." he growled.

"Wait, Jack. I didn't. It's not..."

"You've bonded with him haven't you? You bastard, you've fucking bonded with him."