Ianto spent the next forty-eight hours in a constant state of near-panic. He slept very little, his insomnia fuelled by a sickening expectation that at any moment they could find themselves back in Torchwood's claws. In all honesty, he couldn't decide whether he was better or worse off that, after two days, there was no sign of Torchwood operatives anywhere near the apartment.

"You know, you're scaring him," Jackie chided when she emerged from her bedroom to find Ianto standing guard near the curtained window, watching the goings-on outside with eagle eyes. He didn't so much as glance back at her.

"I'm just keeping a look out, Jackie."

She huffed in annoyance.

"That's only half of it, though. You've only let him out of his room at night time, and to use the bathroom. He thinks you're still mad at him for wandering out the other day."

A frustrated sigh escaped Ianto's lips.

"I'm not mad at him, but he's got to stay out of sight."

Jackie stared at him for several seconds before speaking carefully.

"Ianto, sweetheart, you need to tell him it's okay, that there's nothing to be afraid of."

"Well, I can't tell him that, can I?" Ianto snapped, giving Jackie a vivid taste of his own fear and frustration. "I can't lie to him and tell him everything's fine, because it's not!"

"Well, for God's sake, at least let him come out of that ruddy room!"

"It's the safest place for him," Ianto said stiffly. Jackie's frown deepened.

"Yeah, and I bet that's the same logic Torchwood had when they locked him up in the first place!"

Ianto flinched as though she'd slapped him again. Jackie's expression softened, but only a little.

"Sweetheart, please, just listen to me. I just looked in on him, and he was huddled up in the corner, lookin' absolutely terrified. You need to bring him out, and at least let him see a little sunlight, so he doesn't start thinking he's a prisoner all over again."

Pale-faced and horrified at the not unreasonable suggestion that he was in danger of treating Jack as inhumanely as Torchwood, Ianto hurried past her to Jack's room.

Sure enough, Jack was curled up in the farthest corner of the tiny room, knees drawn up to his chest and watching the doorway with wide, terrified eyes. Sick to his stomach, Ianto walked cautiously over to Jack and crouched down in front of him.

"Jack? Look at me, cariad."

Pale blue eyes that were wide with terror and red from crying stared back him.

"Are they here?"

"Who?"

"The bad people. Have they come for me?"

"No, Jack, they haven't come," Ianto murmured. He seated himself on the floor beside Jack and slipped his arms around the older man's body in a protective hug. "They don't know that you're here. It's okay."

"But…"

"But nothing," Ianto cut him off quietly. "I know I've kept you cooped up in here the last couple of days, but I was wrong. They haven't come for you, love. You're still safe."

Hope lit up Jack's eyes.

"Really?"

Ianto smiled and ruffled Jack's hair, delighting in the giggle from the other man.

"Really. Now, come on. Up you get. Come out and I'll get you a nice big bowl of ice cream."

"Chocolate ice cream?" Jack asked hopefully as Ianto help him up.

"Yes, if you like," Ianto conceded. He paused, eyeing Jack with a critical gaze. "Go and wash your face and hands, and I'll have the ice cream ready for you when you come out. All right?"

Jack grinned widely and all but bounced out of the room. Ianto chuckled wryly as he followed him out. Jackie was right – whether he believed it was true or not, it was still important to let Jack believe he was safe, at least to a degree. If nothing else, happy Jack was far preferable to miserable and frightened Jack.

Smiling sadly to himself, Ianto headed for the kitchen to get Jack an extra large bowl of chocolate ice cream, with whipped cream and sprinkles into the bargain.

Jack's delight lit up the room when Ianto set the bowl in front of him, and he wasted no time digging in. Ianto and Jackie watched with indulgent smiles, taking pleasure in his simple joy.

"At least he's easy to please," Jackie said with a chuckle. Ianto grinned.

"I know. Ice cream, fruit, chocolate... He loves all of it. He does have a particular fondness for fruit, though. Especially apples."

"Me, I like bananas," Jackie said. "Bananas are good."

Ianto faltered in responding. Jack had suddenly looked up and there was a strange look on his face.

"Jack? What is it?"

"Bananas," Jack said slowly. "He liked bananas. Took my gun, gave me a banana instead."

"What's he on about?" Jackie asked with a frown. Ianto couldn't answer, though. He honestly had no idea. Jack looked up at them with pain in his eyes.

"Why can't I remember? I want to remember. Why can't I?"

"You will," Ianto reassured him. "But it'd be bad if you remembered everything at once."

"Sore head," Jack said mournfully, and Ianto nodded in agreement.

"Yes, very sore head. Be patient, and when the Doctor comes back, hopefully he'll be able to help."

"When?"

"Soon, cariad," Ianto murmured. "Very soon, I hope."

That night, Ianto awoke to the sound of crying, rather than screaming. He sat up dazedly, and found Jack sitting at the end of his mattress, struggling to hold back sobs that just would not be contained.

He crawled to Jack's side to hold him in what he assumed was the wake of yet another nightmare.

"What is it, Jack? Talk to me?"

"Don't want him to come," Jack whimpered. For a moment, Ianto was at a loss.

"Who? You don't want who to come?"

"Him! With the blue box!"

Ianto felt his stomach drop, wondering whether Jack had suddenly remembered something more – something worse – about the mysterious Doctor.

"Why not, Jack? He'll be able to take you away from all of this! Away from Torchwood, away from this whole time and place... Away from..."

"You," Jack cut in brokenly. Ianto's heart sank.

"Jack, we've been through this already..."

"Don't wanna leave you," Jack protested. "You treat me nice, and you only yell at me when I'm bad."

"What, and you don't think the Doctor will be nice to you?"

"He left me," Jack said abruptly. Slowly, the last remnants of sleep faded from Ianto's mind, and he realised what Jack meant; what he didn't seem to have the ability to vocalise.

"You're scared that he'll leave you behind again, aren't you?"

"He left me," Jack said again miserably. Ianto reached across slowly and took Jack's hand, squeezing it to reassure him.

"What do you remember?"

Jack's breath hitched in chest, and he spoke in a small voice.

"Dust. Lots of dust, in piles on the floor. And a smell... like dead bodies. There was a sound. I ran... I remember the blue box. It disappeared in front of me. I... I cried, but it didn't come back."

Tears spilled down Jack's cheeks, and Ianto gently brushed them aside with his thumb.

"It won't happen again, I promise you. I won't let it."

"But you're going to leave me, too," Jack pointed out plaintively. "Please, Yan, don't leave?"

"You don't need me, Jack," Ianto told him. Jack opened his mouth to protest, but Ianto gently covered his mouth to silence him before he could get a sound out. "Listen to me, love. I know you think you need me, but you don't. You're stronger than you think, and sooner or later you're going realise what I'm telling you is true. You don't need me."

"But... I want you," Jack said miserably.

Ianto barely suppressed a grimace. His one saving grace was that Jack really had no concept of any deeper meaning to his words.

"It's not fair," Jack said finally, his shoulders slumped and head hanging so that his face was shielded by his long, shaggy hair. He really did need a haircut rather badly, Ianto mused distractedly. He shook himself back to reality at the sound of soft sobs, and hugged Jack to him.

"I know. But if life was fair, then you wouldn't have been Torchwood's prisoner for over a hundred years, either."

"Love you," Jack whispered. Ianto sighed softly and rubbed Jack's back soothingly. He was reluctant to verbally express affection for fear of it being misunderstood, but he'd long since learnt that not responding only seemed to make the upset that much worse. Better to respond simply, and hope that Jack's damaged mind continued to see their relationship simplistically.

He pressed a soft kiss to Jack's temple, and spoke softly to his depressed charge.

"I love you, too, cariad."

A week later, Ianto finally began to relax a little and believe that the security of their location hadn't been breached. Torchwood may have suspected they were somewhere in the general vicinity, but clearly had no idea where. As long as they both stayed within the apartment, it appeared they were safe. The only thing that continued to keep Ianto on edge were the ghost shifts. He'd watched the apparition's appearance out of reluctant necessity and he had a disturbing suspicion that the apparition was steadily growing more solid each time.

For his part, Jack had taken to hiding in his room and not coming out again until Ianto could confidently tell him it was gone, and Ianto didn't blame him for being frightened despite Jackie's continued insistence that it was just her father's ghost come to visit. Indeed, the apparent wide-spread acceptance of the apparitions bothered Ianto greatly. As far as he was concerned there was nothing natural about them, and it worried him deeply that people could so easily come to accept such a disturbing phenomenon.

Still, on the positive side there had been no further sign of Torchwood operatives in the area. Police were occasionally sighted by Jackie to be handing out the reward leaflets, but according to the formidable Mrs Tyler, Jack and Ianto probably could have walked right by them, and the poor, bored sods wouldn't have noticed. Not that Ianto intended on putting that theory to the test anytime soon…

Even so, Ianto knew he was finally beginning to relax a little when he woke up one morning to find he'd slept until almost noon. Startled by his own apparent lassitude, Ianto scrambled to get dressed, and hurried out.

Unsurprisingly, Ianto found Jack ensconced in the lounge room with his nose buried in a book. The television was on, but Jack was paying it no heed. Ianto went over with the intention of switching it off, but as his hand neared the power button, Jack finally looked up and uttered a yowl of protest.

Ianto frowned at him, startled and confused by his reaction, but he paused in turning the television set off.

"Would you kindly say that in English, Jack? I don't speak feline."

Jack reddened a little at the admonishment.

"Sorry. Um... Please leave the TV on?"

"Better," Ianto said approvingly. "Now, why do you need the TV on? You're not even watching it."

"Don't like the quiet," Jack admitted, sounding embarrassed. And suddenly, Ianto realised that beyond the noise of the TV, he couldn't hear Jackie anywhere within the apartment.

"Where is Jackie?" he asked, frowning again.

"Gone shopping," Jack replied. He paused, and then added brightly, "Up to seventy percent off. She was really excited. But before she went she made me promise to be good and not wake you up." His face fell suddenly as it occurred to him that he might have woken Ianto up, and he looked up anxiously. "I didn't wake you up, did I?"

Not for the first time, Ianto wondered whether Jack's incessant need for approval had anything to do with the Doctor.

"No, you didn't wake me up, not at all. You're being very good."

Jack grinned and, his confidence restored, went back to his book. Chuckling to himself, Ianto headed through into the kitchen. One thing he was certain of was that the Doctor was going to have his hands full once Jack was finally returned to his care.

For a while longer, Jack's attention remained on his book. Eventually, though, he found his gaze being drawn away from the words that told a charming story of a little boy who never wanted to grow up, and to the television instead. There was a movie on, and in it there were two people – a man and a woman – and they were arguing. Slowly, Jack let his book drop to the floor, his attention fully on the television. The man and woman were fighting, the woman was crying, and the man was begging her to stay and not leave him.

Jack's breath caught, and he glanced instinctively towards the kitchen, to where he knew Ianto was. His Ianto, who was going to leave him when the Doctor person came back…

He looked back to the television, and his eyes widened as the man on the screen stepped in, grabbed the woman and kissed her. The woman struggled a little, but then she seemed to be kissing the man back, and then the two of them were pulling their clothes off and falling down onto the couch and the man was grabbing at the woman and she was grabbing him back and they were kissing lots and lots…

Jack watched wide-eyed throughout the whole scene, sitting up so that he was seated on the very edge of the couch and he leant forward to watch intently. When it was over, the two people were fighting anymore, and the woman was telling the man that she would never leave him.

Jack swallowed hard as he finally tore his gaze away from the television, and looked towards the kitchen. Was that what he needed to do to make Ianto stay with him? Kiss him lots and take his clothes off and do those grabby things with him? Well, he liked kissing Ianto, and he thought Ianto liked it too, so maybe they'd like doing those other things as well.

Maybe… Excitement began to creep up within Jack as his damaged mind began to make simple connections. Maybe Ianto would like it so much that he'd change his mind and wouldn't leave, and they could always be together.

Excited by the possibility, and thoroughly proud of himself for having the idea, Jack picked himself up off the couch, and went to find Ianto, and try his idea out.

Ianto was just waiting for the kettle to boil – Lord, wasn't he looking forward to eventually being able to make a proper cup of tea or coffee – when he sensed Jack in the room with him. Pushing his cup away from the edge of the bench, he turned around.

"Jack… What are you doing?"

His surprised question came out only seconds before Jack closed the distance between them, grabbed the sides of Ianto's head in an almost bruising grip and kissed him dead square on the mouth. For a split second, Ianto was too stunned to react. This was most certainly not the standard hug and kiss greeting that he was used to. The kiss was sloppy and uncontrolled, and Ianto could feel Jack trying to push his tongue past a barrier of lips and teeth.

As uncomfortable and awkward as it was, though, he found himself disturbingly reluctant to break it off. His head felt light and slightly giddy, like he was mildly intoxicated. It wasn't an entirely bad sensation, and he didn't particularly want to put an end to it.

It wasn't until Ianto felt Jack groping clumsily at his arse that he finally managed to drag himself back to reality, and push Jack away from him.

"Stop it! Goddamn it, Jack, what do you think you're doing?"

Jack stared at him, his expression slightly panicked. He said nothing, and instead moved towards Ianto again, reaching for him with all-too-clear intent. Ianto was ready for him this time, though, and he grabbed Jack by the arms and propelled him backwards, not stopping until he had him pinned to the wall.

"Now," Ianto said tensely, "tell me what's going on, Jack. And you'd better have a good explanation, or I might just get really angry with you."

Jack flinched and tried to look away, but he couldn't escape Ianto's glare. Steadily, it began to sink in that he'd made a big mistake, and a sob hitched in his chest.

"I just want you to stay!"

"What? Jack, what are you talking about?"

"On the TV! The lady was going to leave him, and he kissed her and did other things to her and she didn't leave him. You were supposed to kiss me back and say that you wouldn't leave me!"

Ianto's jaw clenched, and his own frustrations finally boiled over.

"Fuck, Jack, are you really this naïve? That's just television! It's not real! I thought you understood that! Damn it, I told you why I can't stay with you when the Doctor comes back. Why won't you accept it?"

"But I love you…"

"Stop saying that!" Ianto exploded, falling back on his anger to try and shield himself from the guilt that was gnawing away at him.

"But I do," Jack whispered.

"Well, I don't love you!"

It was out of his mouth before he could stop himself, and in the very next instant he wished he could take the harsh words back. The damage was done, though.

Silence fell in the kitchen as the two men stared at each other – one distraught and one guilt-ridden. Ianto released his hold on Jack and stepped back, his mouth dry as it began to sink in just what he'd said, and how it was likely to be taken. The look on Jack's face was heart-breaking. He looked utterly shattered.

Snapping back to reality, Ianto started to reach out towards Jack, but the older man was having none of it. With an anguished howl, Jack turned and bolted from the kitchen. Ianto stayed there, shaken and distressed, trying to think clearly again through the shock of what had just happened.

The insane part was, Ianto thought he understood where Jack was coming from, and why – if not now – he had come to the conclusion that foreplay and sex would keep them together. Once he worked past the shock, he had to admit that he actually found it kind of touching, that Jack was so desperate not to be separated from him.

The truth was, he didn't want to leave Jack, but he could see no way around the situation. He hurt, too, at the thought of no longer being a part of Jack's life, but it was ultimately for the best. Why, for the love of all things holy, did Jack have to make it so much bloody harder than it already was?

The sound of the front door slamming broke him out of his brooding, and he looked up in shock.

"Jack?"

There was no answer. His heart in his throat, Ianto made a quick search of the apartment, praying that his ears had deceived him. Within a couple of minutes, though, his fears were confirmed. Jack had fled the apartment altogether.

Sick to his stomach with guilt and fear, Ianto went after him.

Jack didn't stop to think. He ran into the lounge room, grabbed his blanket and dog and ran straight out the front door, slamming it behind him. He didn't think, he just reacted. Thinking hurt too much, and he was tired of hurting. So, he ran down the stairs and across the Estate until he reached the playground where he'd first met Ben and Charlie.

The playground was deserted, the children all either at school or day care. Lonely, miserable and heartbroken, Jack stumbled to a halt and crumpled to the ground in the middle of the playground, hung his head and sobbed.

Ianto suspected he knew where Jack had gone. More to the point, he hoped and prayed it was where he'd gone. The bottom line was that if he hadn't headed for the playground, then Ianto had no idea where he was. It was a frightening prospect when he knew full well that Yvonne Hartman's goons were still searching for them. To have made it this far only to lose out over one unfortunate incident would just be too much to bear.

He rounded the corner and skidded to a halt, his gaze quickly finding the figure sitting desolately on the asphalt in the middle of the playground. Thanking whatever deity was paying attention, Ianto began to walk quickly towards Jack, going over in his mind what he could possibly say to heal the damage that he'd done.

As he neared Jack, he felt his hackles rise, and he paused to look around. There appeared to be no one in sight, but he knew from experience that Torchwood operatives were among the best in the country, if not the world, and they could easily avoid being seen if they wanted to. He sucked in a long breath that did little to calm him. He needed to get Jack out of sight, and fast.

Ianto started forward again, and this time he was within metres of where Jack was sitting when he saw it – a small beam of red light centred on the back of Jack's head. Panic leapt straight into Ianto's throat. It was the targeting beam of a gun. Someone, whether nearby or far away, had Jack squarely in their sights.

"Jack!" Ianto bellowed, and Jack swung around automatically at the sound of his voice. At the same moment, the ricochet of a rifle shot shattered the quiet.

Jack's scream rent the air as the bullet missed its target in the back of his head, only to tear his cheek wide open. Ianto charged forward and skidded to his knees beside Jack, taking just a brief moment to examine the wound before trying to urge Jack to his feet.

"C'mon, get up! We have to run! Now!"

Jack climbed awkwardly to his knees, his face alight with terror and pain.

"Yan…"

"Hurry up!" Ianto begged, pulling harder. "Jack, please…"

Jack made it to his feet, but before he could go two feet in any direction, though, another gunshot ripped through the air, striking Jack in the temple and felling him like a tree.

"No," Ianto whimpered as Jack collapsed to the ground, dead. Instinct screamed for him to run while he still had a chance, but he resisted the powerful urge. Instead, he struggled to lift the deadweight of Jack's body over his shoulders, intending to try and carry him to safety.

It was a pointless effort. He was still trying to manoeuvre Jack's body up off the ground when something struck him squarely between his shoulder blades. A moment later, electricity coursed through him, sending him tumbling to the ground in a useless heap. There he lay, unable to move and barely able to even breathe. He watched helplessly as figures emerged from impossible hiding places and advanced on the two of them in threatening silence.

Beyond desperate, Ianto tried to drag himself over Jack's body in a feeble last attempt to shield him, but he quickly discovered the only part of his body that he could still move were two fingers on his left hand.

A shadow fell across him, and he felt a hand on his back, pulling his shirt collar down to expose his neck.

"You stupid bastard, Jones," a voice that he didn't quite recognise muttered. "Never should've stayed in London."

He felt the sting of a needle piercing his neck, followed rapidly by a wave of dizziness and drug-induced fatigue. As he was dragged away from Jack, and darkness began to descend, his last thought was to curse the absent Doctor with every last ounce of energy that he had.

Then, darkness took hold and he knew no more.

Jackie arrived back at her apartment to find Ben and Charlie sitting literally on her doorstep. Charlie was whining miserably, and Ben had clearly been crying. Worse, in his hands, Ben held two items that she recognised as Jack's precious blanket and dog. Her heart racing, she approached them quickly to ask what was wrong.

"We were over near the park," Ben told her tearfully as he handed her the blanket and the toy dog. "I'm off school this week. Rest of my class are away on a day trip, and my mum couldn't afford so they just told her to keep me home. Anyway, I took Charlie for a walk, and we saw Jack."

"You what?" Jackie burst out. "He was outside?"

"Yeah, and he looked really upset. He was crying, Mrs Tyler! I was going to go over and see if he was okay, but then Mr Jones showed up."

Jackie felt ice in her veins. Despite some people's opinions, she was no fool, and she could easily guess why it was Ben sitting here telling her this story.

"Ben, where are they?"

"Someone shot Jack," Ben burst out, fresh tears flooding his eyes. "He's dead, they shot him and now he's dead! And they knocked Mr Jones out with some sort of stun gun. They took them both, Mrs Tyler. I don't know who they were, 'cause they were all in black, but they took Mr Jones and Jack away."

Shock settled over Jackie, leaving her feeling numb and more than a little bit sick.

"You'd best get yourself home, Ben," she told him softly.

Ben got up and started to walk dejectedly away, only to turn back and blurt out, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry I wasn't brave enough! I should've done something…"

Jackie covered the short distance to the boy in a second, and wrapped him up in a fierce embrace.

"Sweetheart, it was not your fault. If you'd tried to do anything, you might have been hurt badly. It was more important that you be able to come and tell me what happened."

Ben sniffled miserably.

"Are you going to tell the police?"

"Yeah, I'll do that," Jackie murmured, feeling only marginally guilty at the lie. "Don't you worry about it, sweetheart. Go on home, now, there's a good lad."

She watched him go, tears stinging her own eyes as the reality of what had happened began to sink in. Jack and Ianto had been retaken by Torchwood, and there would be no second escape. Their only hope now lay in an alien who never seemed to be able to be in the right place at the right time.

Jackie headed inside and over to the mantle in the lounge room, where she looked at a few more current pictures. Her gaze went to a small photo at the back; one of Rose together with the Doctor as he had looked when Rose first met him.

"I don't know where you are, you bloody alien git," she said heavily, "but you'd better get your skinny behind back here fast, before it's too late for those boys."

She went to bed that night with a sickening sensation of despair, and her sleep was plagued by nightmares. The next morning she was standing on the balcony outside her apartment when she finally heard the sound that they had been waiting nearly two months to hear – the distinctive grinding sound of an otherworldly engine.

to be continued...