AN: A meaningless piece really which is why it is in this disconnections folder, just some random thoughts and flexing of fingers whilst dealing with the frustrations of back ache and lack of new Ianto centric Torchwood on the telly...

Still off to see Blue Gillespie tomorrow and a visit to Ianto's wall.

ARCHITECTURE AND MORALITY

Owen rubbed his hands over his face and heaved out a relieved sigh as he slumped back on to the ratty couch.

Clean-up was complete. The Hub was almost back to normal. Jack was locked away in his office, Gwen and Toshiko had finally been sent home and the dinosaur was sulking up in the rafters.

There was just one more thing to deal with.

Ianto.

A few hours ago Jack had wrenched the boy up by the scruff of his neck and slung him into a cell. Everyone else had been too shocked to object at the rough treatment and no one had been down to see him since. Owen couldn't blame them really after what had happened.

Stupid, good for nothing Tea Boy, who was now a traitor about to face execution or Retcon and Owen imagined that Jack was in his office trying to decide which. Execution would be easier, but Jack was no murderer and he knew he sure as Hell couldn't kill the boy either. Perhaps a couple of hours ago when he was still angry, more than angry, he'd been downright scared with it. Owen stared up at the ceiling trying to sort out what it was he was actually feeling right now. The adrenaline was wearing off, his head was aching and he wanted to go out and get drunk. His work for the day wasn't done though. He needed to check on Ianto and if he were honest with himself he was putting it off, just a little bit. Owen also realised he'd probably have to get Jack's permission first anyway. One quick glance in the direction of Jack's office told him he didn't want to go there either.

It had been one Hell of a day and Owen just didn't want to analyse what they had all missed. Ianto's deception only made possible because the rest of the team had treated him like little more than a convenient house keeper. Owen knew they were all guilty of it, he perhaps most of all because aside from one cursory medical exam when Ianto had started nine months previously, Owen had pretty much ignored him. Ianto had been dismissed as one of Jack's dalliances soon to be disposed of once the Captain got bored with his new toy. No one had made any effort to get to know the Welshman and even Gwen had not noticed him. Worse though was the realisation that Ianto was clearly suffering from PTSD as a result of the Canary Wharf battle and Owen had chosen to wait for Ianto to come to him; which he hadn't and therefore nothing had been done. Owen swallowed realising his own failure in his duty as the resident medic.

Reluctantly Owen rose to his feet and made his way to Jack's office. He didn't bother to knock, just went straight in and stood there arms folded across his chest. Jack was writing out a report, probably on the events of the last 24 hours. Owen watched as the nib of the fountain pen glided over the officially headed paper. Jack always wrote his reports out by hand with the same old pen and Owen could see neat copperplate script.

"I thought I sent you home hours ago." Jack continued to write as he spoke, the exhaustion evident in his subdued tone.

Owen shoved his hands into his pockets. "I need to check the Tea Boy. He's got injuries that require attention and I suspect he'll need a sedative to get him through the night."

Jack's hand stilled and he looked up. There was darkness in his eyes that Owen found just a little unsettling. Jack put the cap on his pen and placed it down on top of the document he had been working on.

"Ok, get what you need, including a set of surgical scrubs. I'll sort out some bedding because he is staying in that cell until I decide what to do with him."

Owen couldn't argue with that. "He'll need some food and water as well." He glanced at his watch. "I don't think he's eaten anything since yesterday morning."

Jack got to his feet. "I'll sort that out after you've done what you need to do. We'll meet by his cell in twenty minutes." He was all business, not wanting Owen to see just how affected he was by what Ianto had done.

"Right boss."

TWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTW

Jack stood at the glass looking into the 9 metre squared chamber of old brick and mould and was shocked to discover just how much his shattered team member looked like part of the furniture. The man, Ianto Jones was huddled into the furthest corner on the stone floor, arms wrapped around his legs with his knees tightly tucked under his chin. Ianto's back faced the dirt spattered glass. It was disturbing to see how small he looked, like everything had been sucked out of him and Jack knew it probably had.

Jack was still angry, his pride stung and that hurt. It was something he wasn't used to. He thought he could read people. He thought he knew Ianto, but the Welshman was as blank to him as the Victorian brickwork that surrounded them, that withheld its secrets and was rank with bitter history. He wanted to hurt Ianto, to get back at him for being used and played, but the bigger part of him, the one nurtured by the Doctor and Rose wanted to reach out and help. Jack wondered if Ianto would let him, he wondered if there was enough left of the young man to salvage him. How do you convince a man who has lost everything that life is worth hanging on to? Ianto had been given no cause to believe that anyone cared, after all. That was a sour pill to swallow, the truth and Ianto had been right. No one had cared when it was it was so obvious just how broken Ianto actually was.

He huffed out a sigh wondering if Ianto was even aware of his presence. Gritty scrapings of the main door behind indicated Owen's arrival and the medic entered the vault carrying his field kit and a set of clean surgical scrubs.

"Right let's do this shall we?"

Jack keyed in the unlock code and the glass door swung away. Jack rested his hand against the secure weight of his Webley, but decided to keep the weapon holstered for now.

"Ianto?"

He and Owen watched from the doorway as Ianto made no move whatsoever. They exchanged looks and then Owen bustled forward and placed the items he was carrying on the concrete ledge that served as bed. There was no comfort in here.

"Ianto mate, come on Tea Boy I need to check you over." Owen decided trying to show at least some compassion might be best.

He was ignored.

Owen glanced over his shoulder at Jack who came into the cell and closed the door behind him. Jack shrugged, really not quite sure how to handle this.

"Ianto, on your feet!" Jack commanded.

Ianto didn't move and Owen watched him closely. Just visible was the sign that he was indeed breathing, but it appeared shallow and laboured. Owen edged forwards and reached out a hand and rested it on Ianto's shoulder.

"Come on, up you get. Let me check you over."

There was still no response and Owen's concern over road any sense of antipathy toward the Welshman. He crouched down at Ianto's side and gently tugged at his shoulder.

Ianto's face was grey, streaked with blood and spectacularly coloured with deep bruising down one side. He is eyes were half open and completely blank and Owen sucked in a hissed breath.

"Help me get him up Jack. I think he's gone into some kind of Post Trauma Shock."

Jack knelt down at Owen's side close to the wall against which Ianto was huddled so tightly there was no space between him and the cold brickwork.

"Step back, Owen. I'll get him up." Jack kept his voice low and Owen moved away to give Jack a little space. He watched as Jack carefully wrapped powerful arms around the archivist and forced him upright in one swift move. Jack swung him round and planted him on the shelf next to Owen's bag. Owen thought he heard a hiss of breath as Jack let Ianto go and Ianto curled himself up as tight as he could, his arms hugging his ribs, his eyes to the ground. Owen was surprised to see Jack kneel in front of the Tea Boy and grasp his hands.

"Ianto, Owen needs to examine you, come on now."

The hands were pulled away and tucked into his lap and Ianto looked into Jack's face. Owen registered the horror in Jack's eyes as he met Ianto's glare.

"There's no point. Just shoot me and be done with it." There was no conviction in Ianto's ragged voice, just defeat.

Jack glanced up at Owen and the medic took that as his signal to get started so he took his Bekaran scanner and began his work. Jack returned his attention to Ianto.

"No one is going to shoot you. I know what I said before, but it was a threat not a promise."

Ianto lowered his head and covered his face with shaking hands.

"Shoot me, please."

Owen paused in his task.

"Bollocks to that Tea Boy, you're not turning one of us into a murderer, you wanna die you can do it to yourself you selfish git." He couldn't help himself, the anger and fear of the day finally showing.

Ianto held out a hand to Jack and stared straight into his boss' eyes.

"Then give me the fucking gun!" He seethed.

Jack backed off a pace and stood up, fury coming off his tense body in waves.

"You're not getting off that lightly Ianto." He snapped.

Ianto shrunk down and moved back along the ledge into the corner. He curled himself up.

Owen began to check his scan results.

"I'll some bloods from you, give me your arm." He tried to sound dispassionate and professional, but it was hard.

Ianto sat up and yanked off his filthy jacket and rolled up a shirt sleeve; more dark bruising became apparent. Owen prepared a syringe and took the samples without further comment. Once done he stepped back.

"There's clean scrubs for you if you want them."

Ianto ignored him as he pulled his jacket back on and resumed his foetal position against the brickwork. It took Owen a moment to realise that Jack had left the cell so he gathered up his bag and followed him. Jack locked the cell behind them and they both made their way quietly back up into the operations area of the Hub.

Owen went straight to the autopsy bay to begin the blood analysis and Jack trailed along behind him.

"Well?"

Owen got the work aware that Jack was loitering.

"He's got a lot of bruising and three cracked ribs, but otherwise unharmed."

Jack sat down on the tiled steps. "What a mess."

Owen shrugged. "Yeah. What are we gonna do with him Jack?"

Jack had no idea. "I don't want to lose him; Torchwood three has never been run more efficiently since he arrived. I think he could become a valuable member to this team. What he did took guts and that kind of loyalty could be nurtured into something useful to us."

"Do you think he'll go along with that?" Owen really couldn't see it himself.

Jack sighed, scrubbing his hands over his face. "He was right Owen, we never cared. Maybe we can make up for that, help him heal, give him a new purpose."

"What? Just like that?"

"Of course not. He'll have to earn our trust, live with his guilt. I am not saying it is going to be easy for him, but Torchwood is ultimately to blame for what happened and I am the senior most member of the institute, therefore it is my responsibility. I have to give him a chance."

"No Retcon then?"

"Wiping three and a half years of memory? You might was as well consign him to Providence Park for the rest of his life. I was once given a second chance and my sins were far worse than his. I acted out of greed, not love. I want to try."

Owen frowned, feeling slightly pissed off. "Aren't you mad at him? I know I bloody am!"

Jack nodded. "Of course I am angry, he used me and tricked me, but he's just a boy who lost everything."

"Okay. As his doctor I shall have to prescribe counselling and probably anti-depressants as well. I also need to get back in that cell and bind those ribs. He'll need to be on suicide watch Jack, for a few days at least."

"Right then, we'll go back in there, get him down to the showers and then you can sort out his ribs and give him some painkillers or something. I'll order some take outs once we're done with that and keep an eye on him for tonight."

Owen nodded, relieved and annoyed in the same breath. He knew it would be a while before he could forgive Ianto completely, but he was half way there.

"Sounds like a plan."