A/N: Here it is, the last one. I want to dedicate this fic to everyone who has read or reviewed this, in any capacity, anonymously or not. (: I'd love to get up to 100 reviews on this, so please do take the time to review it, be you an anonymous reviewer or a registered user. It would really mean a lot to hear from you. Anyways, thank you to everyone, and I hope you enjoy the epilogue.


So after the operation Ianto had to stay for a few days while the staples and stitches set in, and Jack stayed too. He couldn't have left, anyways, but while he was there he had to speak with the Officials and sort out the whole mess that this endeavor had turned into.

Apparently Ianto was no use to them now – the mental changes they'd given to Ianto had completely reversed themselves, and his brain was now back to exactly how it had been when they'd received him. Jack smiled at this – he was still brilliant, but obviously having no homicidal tendencies was not an Official trait.

Ianto had interjected here, from his wheelchair, "But what about the Basement and Torchwood? How do we keep up to date with each other? Surely after the whole 456 thing we need to liaise –"

"– yes," Learner interrupted, "Your job. You know the ins and outs of the Basement – we can't just let you go into the world with all that, without some kind of practical application."

"So, what? I'm Torchwood-Basement Liaison?"

It seemed to suit him just fine, an invisible title. To the outside world, he'd be an archivist (and tourist information manager), to Torchwood an operative, and to the Basement part-time Official.

That part was hard for him to agree to.

"We do reserve the right to call you into action, if times are desperate. We're monitoring several potential Officials right now, some of whom we may take while alive, but we may need extra hands," Cath said, face a perfect mask of calm.

"Hey, whoa! He's in no shape to do that for you, and even if you needed him, what right do you have?" Jack blurted out, furious, before Ianto held up a hand.

"I'm fine with that, but I want at least a day's notice unless it's an absolute emergency. Torchwood is my first priority." Here he had looked at Jack pointedly – it gave him a strange sensation of being looked through.

Always businesslike, was Ianto. Jack couldn't help but admire the quiet precision with which he ordered the Officials about. The last condition was Ianto's; and one that Jack couldn't understand.

"I want the documents about what you did to me. The injection, the resuscitation, all of it," Ianto narrowed his eyes at the pair of Officials, watching their expressions turn to confusion.

Learner was the first to question, "Why? I mean, I'm not averse to giving you a hard copy of them, but no Official has ever wanted to see them."

Ianto wrinkled his nose, ignoring Jack's questioning glare, "Seems important, need to file it away. In case we get a new doctor; not that I'll need one. Will you give me them?"

"Ianto," Jack interrupted, "Not that I'm not intrigued myself, but is that really it? Filing?"

Ianto shrugged, "Sure."

Later on the Welshman had shoved him in the shoulder, "Of course that wasn't it, you idiot. I want to know what they did to me – what I am now. Don't tell me you wouldn't like the documents on what you are, if they were available?"

He had a point.


After the recovery days, Jack was allowed to take Ianto away, but the Doctor – appearing in the TARDIS landing room with Amy, but sans TARDIS somehow – explained that given Ianto's recent operation and brush with high altitude cerebral edema, it might be best if they took the visitor's exit.

He did, however, hand over the suit that Jack had found in the Doctor's dressing room; Jack was intrigued by the way it had kept its own unique smell, and hadn't become tainted with the scent of age.

Ianto put it on, carefully, and had to get Jack to help with the tie. Jack did it to his best ability, but an irritated Ianto spent some time adjusting his 'half-arsed' job, finally getting it straight.

When shown to a mirror, Ianto wrinkled his nose in distaste at his face and hair. His hair had been shaved off for the operation, and his head was still heavily bandaged – thankfully, the Doctor handed him a trilby, seemingly out of nowhere, to hide it.

Jack spared a glance into the mirror, and could scarcely disguise his horror at seeing his own face. He looked haggard, exhausted, and yet something in the eyes was so delirious with happiness that he couldn't recognize himself. There was a good amount of stubble on his face – he'd rubbed his chin in disgust, muttering, "God, I need a shave," until Ianto had smiled and patted him on the back, saying he looked 'very rugged'.

He absentmindedly wondered how long it had been since he'd eaten. It hadn't seemed important.

The four of them walked down many corridors in the Basement, the Doctor quietly leading the way, until they came to a huge rolling door, not until the old door in the Hub. It opened as they approached, revealing a twisting staircase which they slowly climbed. Upon reaching the top, Ianto grinned.

"Those smug bastards."

The Basement had a much better cover – the staircase opened into the back room of a bloody Safeway, the door of which was locked to all staff members, but thankfully not to Officials, on the occasions where they had to go outside. The room lead into a corridor, then out through the car park into the morning sunshine.

Amy smiled, "I doubt you two even knew it was morning. It's a time-free zone down there, isn't it, with no windows?"

Jack found himself nodding, "Yeah, it really is. You lose track." He looked at Ianto, and sighed, "I don't know how you managed down there."

Ianto paused in thought. Staring up at the wide blue sky now was surreal, and he could hardly believe himself that he had spent so much time in that dank, dark place. Though, really, it wasn't too different to the place he'd built for himself when he first joined Torchwood – that dark place in his head, where shadows of the past lurked in every corner.

He blinked, noticing that Jack was still looking at him expectantly. He found he couldn't quite meet Jack's gaze when he answered, "I don't know. I guess I'm just good at dealing with what I've got."

There was gentle pressure on his shoulder as Jack squeezed it tentatively, before hesitantly pulling the younger man into a hug. Ianto held on fast to Jack, gripping him like a life-raft. Being with Jack like this could only mean that he was well and truly back, and that his life could start again.

Ianto pulled back when he heard the neatly folded papers in his pocket begin to crinkle, and slid them out from his inside pocket. He'd put them in an envelope just in case, but was still anxious about the fact they were folded at all.

"I'm gonna have to make new copies of these," he muttered, staring at the blank white outside of the envelope. He grinned, looking up at Jack with those beautiful grey eyes, "You bastard, with your hugs and taut body. How dare you."

"Oh, I know. I'm an absolute wanker," Jack smirked, pulling Ianto to him, "Is that the right word? 'Wanker'?"

"Well, you sound like one saying it."

"Harsh," Jack smiled, then tilted his head, eyes sad, "On a serious note, I don't think you know how much I've missed you. It feels like eternities since I've last…seen you, like this. Like you."

He felt Ianto's breath on his cheek as the younger man sighed minutely, "Jack. I know. You know me – I'm not great with the talking thing, but believe me, I know."

Jack kissed Ianto then, trying to put everything neither of them could say into that one kiss. Ianto wrapped his arms around Jack, forgetting they had company in the form of the Doctor and Amy, closing the gap between them as much as possible.

When they surfaced, the Doctor and Amy were gone; or at least, they had walked some distance to a bench, where the Doctor sat reading a newspaper, and Amy sat texting on her phone, just like the night when Jack had found hope again.


Days passed, and staying in a hotel got to be too much for Ianto after a while.

There was only so much one could do in a hotel room – no, not that – and Ianto had already reorganized the bathroom and wardrobe five times each within the first day. Jack began to think that maybe it was time to take Ianto's keys out of storage and give him his apartment back. Maybe see Gwen, after that. Rhiannon, too.

The bandages came off fairly quickly; Ianto's healing rate was so fast that the skin of his scalp was already recovered, the staples sticking out obscenely on the paleness of his head. All that was left was for the bruising to fade from the bones fixing themselves, and they could go and have the staples removed.

His hair was growing back funny, and the Welshman was prone to frowning discontentedly and tugging at it, as if willing it to grow quicker. It always made Jack smile that Ianto could be so disconcerted by one detail out of place on his appearance.

"Jack, we have to get out of this hotel room. It's driving me up the wall."

Jack shrugged easily, "Sure. We can do that. What first, apartment or Gwen?"

Ianto gave the immortal the full extent of his purse-lipped disapproval, "I think reassuring Gwen that I'm alive and normal is a bit more important than my apartment. What with her being pregnant and such."

So, they went to see Gwen. Jack had Ianto knock on the door himself; somehow it seemed better that he was just stood in the background, and that Ianto was the main thing. Sure enough, Ianto dutifully knocked on the Cooper-Williams household's door, and it was opened to reveal one Rhys Williams, who immediately went wide-eyed with shock.

"Ianto…you jammy bugger," Rhys murmured, pulling Ianto into a manly hug, accompanied with plenty of back-slapping and furious manly blinking of watering eyes. Jack was just waiting for Rhys to blame it on allergies when Gwen came into the hall to see what the fuss was about.

Her face was a picture. The colour drained from it, and her mouth dropped open, similarly to her husband's, eyes widening impossibly. With a minute sob Gwen rushed to Ianto, enclosing him in a tight hug. Over Ianto's shoulder she looked at Jack, who tried to pretend he wasn't crying too.

Closing her eyes, Gwen held fast to Ianto, while Ianto smiled and tried not to sob. Eventually she pulled back, but kept a hold on Ianto, placing her hands on either side of his face and kissing his forehead.

In a tear-choked voice, her accent thicker with emotion, she whispered, "Chroesawa bacia." (A/N: The Welsh was from an online translator, and apparently means 'Welcome back'.)

It drew a smile out of Ianto as he smiled, "Buais ar gerdded achos, ddyhea amsera." ('I've been away so long, I've lost time.')

"Ddiolch 'ch achos yn d bacia atom," Gwen sniffed, giving a watery laugh. ('Thank you for coming back to us.')

Hearing them speak to each other in that private tongue, it was hard for him not feel jealous.


Upon seeing her brother alive and well, accompanied by the man she'd seen at the Italian place, Rhiannon Davies screamed.

"Oh my god, Ianto Jones, how dare you!" This was followed up by a slap across the face, and a fierce hug, with hot tears of happiness flowing, "Don't you ever scare us like that again…" Here she leaned back, with a small smile, wiping her eyes, "And you have to visit more often, in case we have another crisis."

Johnny gave Ianto a gruff handshake, saying, "Glad to see you're still up and about, mate." Jack supposed he was still shaken from being discovered naked by UNIT. Oh yeah, I went there.

Jack was promptly invited in by the Davies'; he feared for his safety under the iron glare of Rhiannon, but Ianto kept a hand on the small of his back and pushed him in, smiling sweetly. She bustled about the tiny kitchen, grabbing assorted mugs and starting to make tea, all the while keeping up questions.

"So, Jack, tell me – what do you get out of corrupting my baby brother?"

"So, Jack, you must be pretty well off, to take our Ianto to that posh Italian?"

"So, Jack, what is Ianto to you?"

The first two questions were easy to deflect with a quip and a grin, but the third – spoken when he had just taken a gulp of the best tea he'd ever tasted – caused said tea to spurt out of his nose as he snorted.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I said, what is Ianto to you?" Rhi's gaze was even, but there was a hardness behind her eyes that made it hard to look away. The eyes were hereditary – Ianto was staring at him with equal intensity.

"Everything," Jack replied simply, and tightened his grip on Ianto's hand.


Later, Rhiannon let herself cry. Jack had excused himself for a moment, decided to go and warm up the SUV for them before they left, and stood awhile outside, listening to the siblings' real reunion.


It took time, a lot of time, to get the Hub rebuilt. Jack doubted if he could have done it without Ianto – no, screw that, he knew he couldn't have done it without him.

The Welshman's hair had grown back fully, and was back into its usual tidy style – he seemed slightly smug as he adjusted his tie and looked at Jack, quirking an eyebrow, "Like it?"

It was an exact replica, if a little…cleaner. Jack smiled; he couldn't have expected Ianto, King of Tidy, to have spent time rubbing dirt into every crevice, just so it looked like it had before he'd cleaned it.

There's something frightening about Ianto, even now – it's the way his movements are so sinuous, so graceful in a truly predatory way, and the slight coldness behind his eyes sometimes – and Jack found himself worrying if he could be enough for this new Ianto, this strong, unbreakable man.

"I love it," Jack replied, fighting to keep the shake out of his voice, "but when's Gwen gonna come and check it out?"

Ianto snorted, with a beatific smile, instantly lifting Jack's nerves, "Jack, she's heavily pregnant. It'll take her a lot longer to get here than it did before."

Then, Ianto's smile turned wicked, "Want to christen it, so to speak?"

Jack didn't reply, only tugged Ianto onto the lift wordlessly, and into a fierce embrace, "Hell yes."


Ianto felt pretty darn proud of the rebuilt Hub, looking around it. He missed the presence of Myfanwy, as ever, and the memories he associated with her, but working for Torchwood meant they could end up with a new pet at any time. He idly hoped for a stegosaurus, though admitted to himself they wouldn't be able to fit it in.

Hopefully not a 456. He shuddered, dimly recalling his last moments, and seeing the creature spewing umbongo everywhere in the hazy, static background. Even when he was dying, it was disgusting and distracting.

Sitting on a new shoddy sofa, he stared at the documents, still sealed in their envelope. The folds would definitely be set in now; that meant having to scan them in and re-print them, maybe even re-write them. Despite everything, this brought a wry smile to his face; this really was back to work, to the archives.

His hands didn't shake as he reached for the envelope and opened it carefully; he supposed not showing fear was one of the things the Officials – sorry, Cath and Learner, he corrected himself mentally – had installed in him.

Drawing out the documents, he sighed, and unfolded them.

Ianto studied every paper, every diagram and print-out; every scribbled note Cath or Learner had written to him. If Jack knew what he was doing, he didn't show it; just sat in his newly replicated office, chin perched on his hands, brooding as always.

So that was it. He was going to live forever. Save for being burned alive or beheaded, he could regenerate. He was like Jack now, never aging, and he'd never truly grasped how terrifying it must've been for Jack until it happened to him. Until he was confronted with the sad truth of his new life.

Well, this wasn't quite the way I wanted it, the Rift quipped in Ianto's mind. In spite of himself, Ianto smiled. Maybe one day he'd want the quiet eternity of death over living through everything – maybe one day he and Jack could finally leave the world in peace. But not right now.

The Welshman knocked quietly on Jack's office door, and the captain looked up, eyes expectant, as if to say, "Well?"

"I…" he started, but the words wouldn't come out. Jack's gaze softened, "I'm…like you."

Jack got up, and pulled him into a hug, "I'm sorry."

Ianto looked up at this, staring into Jack's ice-blue eyes to see if he could understand what was going on in the brain beyond them, "For what? Saving my life?"

"No, no, not that. The fact you're stuck like this. The fact I let it get this far," Jack's voice was restrained, to match the tightness around his eyes.

Ianto sighed, pulling away from the warmth that was Jack, "No, Jack. Don't apologize. This is more than I could have hoped for. I'm just…"

"Scared?" Jack crossed his arms, smiling lopsidedly, "At least you know the why and wherefore."

Ianto took a deep breath, and let it whistle out of his mouth slowly, "Well, yeah. It's just…what do you do with unlimited time?"

Jack took a long moment to look at him, and so Ianto used the time to study his boss' – his lover's – face. There was something different there, something that had changed over the course of the last few months. There was something older about him. Even if Jack hadn't aged, his soul had, and it was easy to see in his eyes. He seems wiser, Ianto mused, moving to Jack's side and absently toying with his hand. More…responsible. Not surprising, really.

Jack stared into Ianto's flint-grey eyes, and said seriously, though with a hint of a grin playing on his lips, "Well, Ianto, what do you want to do?"


A/N: Sequel?