Wahey, here we have it, yet another chapter for you to sink your teeth into (not literally, I hope). Enjoy! :D

The Hub was silent, it had never been this silent in all the decades of memories that Jack had collected. Never had the dissonant dripping of the water tower been so dimmed, never had the pterodactyl's howling been so hushed, almost as if she knew, from the defeated traipse of the remaining team, what tragedy had passed between them. The computers bleeped dolefully, almost in comfort to the team, as the constant rise and fall of their beeping provided a sense of reassurance that Torchwood could go on, life could go on.

With unspoken meanings, Jack signalled to Gwen that they should sit in his office, surround themselves with everything Torchwood symbolised, with the papers and the electronics and the centuries of history that only Jack could understand.

In silence, Jack snagged two coffees from the machine as he passed, switching off the computers with his spare hand. If Cardiff was in jeopardy, saving the world could wait. Tonight, his mind echoed words he'd spoken before, in a happier time, to Ianto, tonight we're only human.

The office was cold, perhaps it was the essence of death, but even Jack felt chilled as he settled the boiling coffees on the desk. Wordlessly, he shrugged his RAF coat off and draped it slowly around Gwen's shuddering shoulders, thinking unbearably of Ianto as he did so. It was a strange feeling, every tiny aspect of the Hub yielded painful memories of Ianto, every corner could be linked with Ianto in some way. His unfinished report on Jack's desk, detailing the correct procedure for Retconning civilians, that the Welshman had asked Jack to look over before all of this had ever happened - everything held a story, everything brought the pain back.

Even Gwen, damp with water, her dark hair straggling and clinging to her white face, reminded Jack of the struggle he had overcome to reunite himself with both of them, only to have Ianto painfully ripped from his life.

"You need to change your clothes," Jack commented in a flat voice, sipping the coffee absently. Perhaps it was his empty tone of voice, but Gwen did not seem to register that he had even spoken, her faded eyes remained fixed on the far wall.

"You'll catch a cold," he forced more meaning into the second sentence, he was concerned for Gwen's health. No one should be as unreachable as her. "Drink your coffee."

"Yes boss."

He met her eyes hurriedly, hoping for a glint of sarcasm that might mean she wasn't as unreachable as he feared - yet, as she impassively lifted the steaming carton to her lips, Jack saw that she was simply obeying him, like a frightened child. Was he losing her? Perhaps he had already lost her beside Ianto.

"Do you have a spare change of clothes here?"

She shrugged noncommittally, "I don't know…" The sound of her own voice seemed to scare her, and her tortured eyes met Jack's, she was pleading with him for something he did not understand.

"We're going to the funeral," it was almost as if she was demanding it of him.

Jack sighed, "there'll be a police investigation, they'll want to-"

"Andy will sort it."

"But he's only a PC."

"He'll sort it. He will."

"Ok," arguing with her would get him nowhere. But then again, where was he now, if not stuck, suspended between life and death, in which the only two people he cared about were practically beyond his reach?

"But there's nothing you can do?"

"I can't control the police Gwen, you know-"

"I didn't mean that. I meant…" She froze, but he caught the meaning sure enough. Ianto, she meant Ianto, and saying his name was impossibly painful now.

"No, there's nothing, don't you think I would have done something by now? With Tosh and Owen - I tried! - but there's nothing… All we can do now is carry on."

"I don't want to." She said it so fast, so assured, that Jack was certain she did not know what she had said.

"What do you mean, how could-"

"I mean, I really don't want to," she was nodding now, almost alive with the idea. "How can we? We're stupid Jack, to kid ourselves that we can carry on after all this. It was hard enough without Tosh and Owen… But now, what can we do? What can me and you do, Jack, against the world?"

"Stop it. You're angry, you're sad, you're beaten, whatever, just don't… just don't say those things. The world? You and me - we've taken on the world so many times, just me and you. Suzie - Abaddon - thousands of Weevils - we've done so much, just me and you. And now this… we can cope with this." He smiled weakly, "I'm your boss, so you do what I say, and stop saying those things."

"Yes boss," this time there was sarcasm, and he laughed bitterly. All the same, the resolution in her cold eyes had scared him, really scared him, much more than anything else had that night. As long as he had Gwen, the future seemed friendlier, easier to deal with, less empty - but without her…

"Are you warm enough?"

This question seemed to catch her off guard, because she frowned gently before nodding and pulling the lapels of his coat tighter around her shoulders.

"What are we going to do?"

His mind was empty of everything except rage. "You're going to go home to Rhys - and, when I've drank this coffee, I'm going to get those bastards, break every single one of their bones and -"

"I don't want to. Go home to Rhys - I can't, not now, not after all this. I know he's probably going crazy with worry, God knows what's going through his mind but… I can't deal with him now. I'll go home tomorrow, yeah? Just… let me stay here tonight, please?"

"Gwen-"

"It's just Torchwood! It does this to you, it gets inside your life, it becomes your life. After all this - how can I be anywhere but here? I need to stay here, I have to, this is… home, this is home."

And he nodded, because what else was there to do? What could he have said that would have changed her stubborn Welsh mind? What could more could he do to force her to keep a hold on her life outside Torchwood?

"Ok," and for Gwen, that was enough. She smiled, a distant and ghostly smile, but it was bright enough to remind Jack exactly why Torchwood existed - to nurture hope, to ready the human race, to protect those who needed him. And right now, whether he wanted it or not, Gwen needed him on this longest of nights.

Again in silence, they walked from the office, Gwen still hugging Jack's coat to her, until they reached the battered old sofa. Wordlessly, she half-sat, half-lay on the grey couch, drawing her knees up to her chest, trembling with held back tears.

Slowly, as if he were afraid of startling her, Jack sat behind her, wrapped his own arms around her knees, pulled her towards him, buried his head on her shoulder, feeling his own tears flow free. For the first time that night, he cried for Ianto, let all the grief and torture of the past few days escape from his shaking body. Gwen's hurts also seemed to fall from her, and he heard her whispering aloud all the terrors and nightmares that must have occurred whilst she was trapped underwater.

"I never knew," Jack sobbed as she poured out her fears. He could never have guessed that this brave girl called Gwen had been so fearful over the past few days, had been so shaken up by everything that had happened - not just Ianto's death.

"I thought you didn't care," her voice was terrible, almost inhuman with her fear, "I thought you'd left us down there. I was so angry with you - I hated you! - because… why?! I wanted to die, I couldn't see the sense in fighting if you'd given up on me. If you weren't coming to save me, who would? I hated myself for relying on you so much… And I didn't care anymore, didn't care what happened, didn't care if I lived or died, because it seemed like you didn't either."

"Stop it," he murmured into her shoulder, "You know what happened. If I had known, I would never have let them take you, not in a million years would anyone have laid so much as a finger on either of you."

"I know, but…They did, and… it hurt Jack, so much."

Jack, with all his immortality, had never understood a human's capacity for fear. He had no fear, he knew no terror, only the fear of what trauma Gwen was going through.

"I can still feel it now. The water, biting into my lungs, the coldness almost breaking my bones. And all along I kept thinking: 'where's Jack? Why isn't he here? Why doesn't he care?'"

"I do care."

She was almost deaf to his words, "And I was confused, because I was wondering what I'd done wrong to make you just leave us like that. I was thinking what I'd done to make you hate me so much that you'd just leave me to die."

"I don't hate you Gwen, this is crazy talk."

"Well maybe I'm crazy then."

Her words frightened him, everything about her frightened him, and his arms grew instinctively tighter around her. "You're all I have left. In the whole wide world, in all the universe, through all of time, you're the only thing I care about. So you can say what you like, but it doesn't change what I'm saying, and it doesn't change how sorry I am that I put you through that. And if you don't believe me, I promise I'll make them pay for everything they did to you - both of you."

She was rocking back and forth, back and forth, back and forth with the same timeless stare she had had in the office. He was losing her, of that he was sure. Torchwood had done this to her, had broken whatever had kept her strong for so long. Jack had done this to her.

They sat that way, locked in that endless rocking, until Jack grew tired of watching the long hours crawl by, and eventually the rocking ceased as Gwen settled into a fitful sleep as she leaned back against Jack.

"You're not crazy Gwen Cooper," he whispered against her ear, "I know you."

Aaaaaand... you guessed it, reviews and comments are the utmost love and, as always, come with free cookies. Chocolate chip, double chocolate, blueberry... XD R&R because I do love hearing you guys' opinions (: