Chapter Twenty-four

I want to say a HUGE thankyou to all of you people who have reviewed this story – we've now hit 206 reviews! I probably would have long stopped this story by now if people hadn't given me such wonderful feedback. Love to you all, guys!

I said that I'd put up an extra-long chapter or an extra one-shot – which would you guys prefer? Let me know! :D

AN: I'm not so sure about the quality of the chapter. I got a tiny bit of writer's block this morning on it, so I hope it's OK. :S Anyway, it's dedicated to a whole bunch of you wonderful people: GreyWolf15, Flabagash, Galadriel1010 and Peregrin Ionad. You rock, guys! :D

Disclaimer: Nope, don't own Torchwood. It would be so cool if I did... –daydreams-

The sunlight, filtering through the waving branches of the trees, played across the piles of dead leaves like a disco ball throws off random patches of light. The smell of earth was strong here, coupled with the scent of leaves and growing plants.

The birds were squabbling loudly in the branches over Ianto's head, and his feet wandered past frail snow-drops poking their fresh new heads through the matted undergrowth.

Ianto's blue eyes were flicking around everywhere, trying to ingrain every detail into his memory. It wasn't often that he got to simply appreciate the beauty of the world he fought to protect on a regular basis.

A gray squirrel shot up the trunk of a nearby beech, pausing at a clump of delicate, shell-like leaves to peer down at the young Welshman.

Ianto smiled to himself, a bubble of happiness expanding in his chest and pushing against his ribcage.

The air, unseasonably warm for March, was still – save for a gentle breeze that played with the small hairs on his forearms. Ianto stopped, closing his eyes and turning his face up, savouring the warmth of the sun on his skin.

His mobile buzzed in his pocket. He dug it out, rolling his eyes as he read the text message from Jack. Just typical – a weevil alert in Splott. Again. Why weevils liked Splott so much, Ianto figured that he would never know.

As it was, he just took one last look around at the tranquil woodland, before breaking into a jog and heading back towards his car.

-T-

Gwen scowled at the dark, cloud-filled sky outside her window. The B&B she'd booked into wasn't ideal – cramped and damp, it wasn't five-star by any means – but it was the only place she could find at such short notice. She would catch the ferry home in the morning.

She flipped open her mobile and pressed speed-dial 2. The Hub was speed-dial 1, something that she'd have to change. Then again, no doubt Jack would have Toshiko wipe her phone, to destroy al evidence of Torchwood, before RetConning her.

How Jack would explain her losing two entire years' worth of memories would remain to be seen – hell, she had even got married in that space of time - but Gwen could only hope that Rhys wouldn't be hurt because of her and her stupid mouth.

"Hello?" Rhys picked up instantly. He had probably been waiting for her to call, Gwen realised guiltily. She had promised to phone every night.

"Hiya," she said, feeling tears welling up in her eyes. She sniffed, scrubbing the sleeve of her jacket roughly across her face.

"What is it, Gwennie?" Rhys asked, worried enough to use the pet-name he so rarely used any more.

Then Gwen couldn't keep back the tears. "Ianto's dead and I'm fired," she sobbed, letting everything spill over.

There was silence on the other end of the phone. Then, calmly and supportively, "What happened?"

-T-

Martha sighed in relief as she stepped off the ferry onto dry land, right into a puddle. Maybe not so dry land, after all.

The nearest Tourist Information board was rimmed with salt and the plastic clouded, so she had to squint to try and make out the tiny writing. "God, I'd need a magnifying glass to read this," she muttered.

With a sigh, she hefted her hastily packed bags in her hands and started down the pier, hopefully to find some accommodation. Hopefully Gwen was taking care of Jack – Martha needed to find a B&B before even attempting to deal with the mess she was about to try and dig her friend out of.

-T-

Gwen finished her phone-call to Rhys and just sat on the bed for a while, feeling her tears drying on her cheeks. She wished she had a tissue, for her nose, which felt sticky and wet.

Oh well. Her sleeve would have to do. She wiped her nose on her sleeve and listened to the blare of a car horn in the street outside.

Gwen finally shook herself and stood, stretching to ease the stiffness in her back and shoulders. Her jacket felt uncomfortably tight, squeezing her heart in her ribcage.

She opened it, sighing with relief as she felt her body relax, no longer stuck inside the restricting leather jacket. Maybe a walk would do her good; get some fresh air into her. Everything would look better after a walk.

Gwen nearly fell over somebody as she was going down the stairs.

"Sorry," she apologised, not looking to see who she had bumped into.

"Gwen?" a surprised voice said, familiar and unexpected.

The Welshwoman spun around and stared into the astonished face of Martha Jones. "Martha? What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question," Martha retorted, narrowing her eyes at Gwen. "Where's Jack?"

Gwen hadn't expected the flood of anger colouring her voice as she replied, "Why should I know? According to Jack, everything's my fault so he fired me!"

"He what?"

"He f—king fired me," Gwen repeated, her anger gone as quickly as it had appeared.

Martha frowned. "That's not like Jack."

"He still did it."

"He must be really upset," Martha said. "You're his best friend."

"Not anymore, it seems." Gwen sighed. "And I can't really blame him. Me and my stupid mouth..."

Martha raised an eyebrow. "What happened?"

Gwen laughed humourlessly. "I only managed to not just cause Ianto's death, but then also question Jack's love for him."

"Ouch." Martha shook her head. "Not good."

"I feel awful..." Gwen said quietly. "I didn't mean it – I was just so—"

"I know," Martha cut her off. "It's OK. I don't blame you."

Gwen bit her lip, unable to meet her eyes. "Jack does."

"Jack's not thinking straight," Martha said, laying a comforting hand on Gwen's arm. "I'll talk to him. There's no sense in firing you for being upset and saying something that you didn't mean."

Gwen smiled sadly at the other woman. "Thanks, Martha. Though I don't know how much good it'll do."

"There's no harm in trying," Martha said decisively. "C'mon - let's go and find this Captain."

I'm sorry that that was a tad on the short-side – it just seemed like the best place to leave this chapter. Let me know what you think, and another update shall be coming your way in a few days!