Hey guys, sorry it took so long, the internet connection is pretty dodgy =/ So, here we have it, let me know what you think...

Jack's mind was a whirlpool of worry and a biting desire to run, a deep-rooted instinctive urge to run without hesitation and without stopping until he reached Ianto Jones and Gwen Cooper. An instinct to protect, to comfort and to touch the team he'd been denied for so long. Bethan's words had been clear enough: Gwen and Ianto were his, should be his, and yet weren't because of something those liars had done. Jack's boiling anger was completely justified, he ran the events over and over in his head, and felt an increasing need to scream aloud his frustration.

He could only guess they'd wiped his memory - it made sense - it was, after all, exactly what he'd do in the circumstances. As far as he knew, the only thing that could trip the amnesia was a familiar sight, but if that was the case why had the VT not done the trick?

No - no! - no… He clenched his fists by his sides as he marched darkly by the Water Tower, trying not to imagine the look on Bethan's face as she watched him on the CCTV, and up onto Bute Street. None of it mattered - the lies, the amnesia, none of it - nothing mattered except the terrifying knowledge that two people whom he had loved, whether he remembered it or not, were dying, alone and in pain, because of Jack.

Scarcely recognising the roads beneath his feet, Jack allowed his instincts to drive him ruthlessly towards his one hope of information, all the while mumbling darkly under his breath, fighting back tears as horrific images circled around his numb head.

A cold metal canister, unearthed by the old docks, buoyant with water. Police officers cracking the lid open, Jack watching on in silence, as two officers recoil in horror. Panicked, Jack steps forward, hands outstretched to reach into the canister. His shaking fingers connect with something still and icy and sticky - and he howls in misery. His enraged tears fall into the water as he hoists the two bodies into his jolting arms, cradling them, rocking them, crying. Their eyes are welded shut by the water - they could be asleep, yet the dullness of their skin, the stiffness of their arms as Jack grasps their hands, tell him otherwise. They're dead, he cries into the black night, because of me.

The clock on the wall told him it was five in the afternoon, end of the day shift, which explained why nameless, faceless police officers swam around him in the waiting room, calling out to each other, milling around him to form a blockade of useless words that kept him - still! - from finding his team.

While he gradually fought the urge to break down, one uniform-clad officer paused at his side, clipboard at the ready, and stuck his hand out to Jack. Confused, Jack shook the hand.

"I'm Andy," the officer said, his Welsh voice taught and nervous as he faced Jack, "you came in asking about me?"

"Yeah, I did."

Andy laughed, whirling about and gesturing for Jack to follow him as he lead the way down a brightly-lit corridor, "I must say, I find it really weird that you don't remember me. You've been… drugged, you say?"

"Yes, memory-loss, but I'm hoping you can help me with that." Jack was unsure of how to broach the topic with this strange outsider, one he did not trust. "Am I right in thinking you know about… Torchwood?"

"Yeah, that's right."

"And did I tell you?"

"No chance! Wow, they really took your memory didn't they? Where's Scully?"

"Er - who?" Jack's confusion erupted ten-fold in his mind, and sank into one of the chairs that lined the corridor.

"God, that must've been some strong stuff they used on you," Andy frowned and took the next chair along, "I mean Gwen, where's Gwen?"

"Gwen!" Jack stood up, his eyes flashing with excitement as he stared down at a bewildered Andy, "you know Gwen?"

"Of course I do," Andy too stood up, and gave Jack a pitiful look before speaking in simple tones, as if he were explaining nuclear physics to a toddler, "I know Gwen. She used to work here. Before she went to work with you. At Torchwood. With the rest of your guys. That is, until a few days ago - I haven't heard anything from her in a few days."

"So… Gwen works with me. We're… friends?"

"That's it," Andy gave him a mawkish smile and patted him on the arm, "but don't forget the other guy. Never caught his name, think it was something-"

"Ianto," Jack interrupted blankly, "Ianto Jones. He came to work for me from Torchwood One, back in London. We caught the pterodactyl together a few years back, she lives in the Hub now, and we feed her pizza and let her fly around Cardiff on Halloween as a stunt. Tosh said it was… Tosh… Tosh a-a-and Owen - they - oh, they died! And that was my fault - and now Gwen's going to die too - Gwen, I remember Gwen, I love Gwen - of course I remember now! How could I have been so stupid, how? I love Gwen - I love Ianto - and now…"

Andy was staring at him as if Jack had suddenly started sprouting nuclear physics back at him. He blinked and nodded slowly, patting Jack on the arm again. "That doesn't sound like memory loss at all, are you sure this isn't some sort of joke?"

With a painful clenching of guilt in his stomach, Jack's face melted into anger and a grit sense of purpose, "no joke. Andy, listen, the police must have procedure for this sort of thing. I've been out of the loop, I don't know what equipment they've got down there with them, but I need to track them. What do the police use to track people?"

"Tracking?" Andy gawped, "Erm, mobile phones, I guess. PDAs, that sort of thing. Pagers… anything that would give off a GPS signal."

Jack's eyes widened, "What about communication headsets? Could you use those? Say, if I had one end and if - if I'm really lucky, and if those idiots messed up again - Gwen and Ianto had at least one other down there, could you track it?"

"Well, I mean, theoretically we could - well not me but someone here - but, really, Jack, that's just-"

"Do it."

"No way. You can't just borrow government property like that. Especially considering you won't tell us why. Torchwood is separate from the government - isn't that what you guys always say?"

"Do it. You have to. Torchwood is in danger - my friends are in danger - Gwen is in danger!"

"Look Jack, you can't say something like that and just expect me to go along with it, you-"

"- Have no other choice! Listen, they're trapped, underwater, with no way out, and-"

"Honestly Jack," Andy was laughing now, an infuriating look of disbelief had crept into his weary features, "I don't know how you expect me to believe that. Either you think I'm stupid or you've had a few too many pints - either way, go home, and if you're still getting these weird urges in the morning, then I'll look into it."

"Listen to me!" Jack had the sinking feeling that he had lost his only lead. Sighing, he remembered something. "There was a video. Patched through to the Hub - but I can't go back there."

"Oh," Andy's face was still full of derision, "well then it's a shame Torchwood has such high security, isn't it? Otherwise we could've hacked in and seen this so-called evidence for ourselves."

Frowning, Jack continued down the corridor towards the empty boardroom and seated himself at a nearby desk. Partially aware of Andy's frowning presence by his side, Jack hurriedly began to type rapidly on the keyboard, watching the screen whirl and dance in response. Reaching back into the archives of received files, he floated the mouse over an IP address he recognised: Torchwood. Entering into the folder, he half expected it to be empty, yet his heart surged with excitement upon seeing the sole file there. It was a short video, complete with sound bytes, and opened responsively under a double click of the mouse. Passing the bulky headphones across to Andy, Jack waited in anticipation as the police officer witnessed his friend and ex-colleague gurgling and struggling in the water.

"My god…" Andy exclaimed, playing the video again without meeting Jack's blazing eyes. Jack leaned in closer, noticing an odd collection of numbers running along the length of the video screen, as if part of the clip, yet it seemed as if they had been hastily added on top of the picture by someone in a desperate hurry. Dimly, Jack wondered why he'd never noticed them, but perhaps they hadn't been there before…

Jack nodded in satisfaction, hardly able to watch the footage again - now that he knew, truly knew and understood the emotion he felt for those two. It was similar to watching some corporeal representation of his soul drown - it was similar to the way in which his heart had cried when he'd captured Gray.

Thank you Bethan, he sighed, I forgive you.

R&R? As usual, cookies for my lovely readers/reviews, for letting me know what you think. :)

Ooh, character death(s) will be coming up pretty soonish. Just a warning =O