Contemplations

Owen watched as Ianto cleared part of the vegetable patch in the garden. Being autumn it was time to pull out the now spent plants. Owen noted Ianto was careful to leave any plants with seed heads for the birds that were attracted by this oasis. He could understand why, he had to admit as much as he hated the reason for his being here he spent every moment out here he could.

South facing with its high stone walls it was a haven protected from the almost constant wind creating a micro-climate. As well as making the space feel protected, the walls allowed for several fruit trees to be espaliered and the included a substantial vegetable patch. Berry fruits were in the greenhouse along with the tomatoes. The garden had been created to attract butterflies and birds as well as being visually stunning; the eye naturally followed the contour of the landscape down towards the sea, creating a contrast from the bare green fields to this sanctuary. Even though it was late in the year the garden was no less beautiful; it had just taken on a more mellow character in contrast to the exuberance of summer.

Ianto approached to show him a particularly fat caterpillar and began to tell him how every day he took them off the ones he and Jack were going to eat and placed them on the cabbages they had planted just for caterpillars. Ianto looked a little happier and he even saw the ghost of a smile. What was it with the pair of them and this garden?

He went over the mystery as it had unfolded before him. Firstly Jack had died of a massive heart attack, cause unknown. As envisaged every test he had done had eliminated any possible physical cause. To be doubly sure, he had sent a sample of Jack's blood to Torchwood to ensure he had not picked up some sort of alien pathogen. Jack's blood was normal along with all other physical indicators as he had predicted. And yet Jack was literally sleeping twenty-two hours a day.

When he was awake he was limited to getting up, taking a shower, changing his clothes, eating, and turning over in bed, getting down the stairs once a day and either laying asleep on the sofa or out here on the swing seat.

To begin with he had basically ordered Jack to complete bed rest, but it became very clear after three days that Jack needed to get into this garden; if not actually in the garden then as close as it was possible to be. As difficult as it was to get Jack down the stairs and back up again he now recognised that there was something significant about Jack's attachment to this space.

The journey to understanding had begun with Ianto's drawings. He had sat on the floor with him that first afternoon as Ianto produced a series of illustrations. Unlike his more formal work these were far cruder. It indicated, if Owen interpreted them correctly, that Jack's dreams had become more intense over a period of time, and more frequent. Ianto had then gone on to produce more of Jack in the garden awake and asleep. They were the complete contrast to the previous ones showing Jack as almost angelic surrounded with hearts, birds and butterflies. Ianto proceeded to fill in every part with ticks of every colour of the rainbow. When Owen asked him about it he declared that when Jack was in the garden he was extra good so he got a tick. A tick he explained was like a thumbs' up.

At the time Owen had drawn back as he could not see any understandable link. As hard as Ianto tried to explain he could not make himself understood. As they had stood together on the third night, trying to calm Jack during what appeared to be an ever increasing intensity of the most horrific series of night terrors, Ianto had handed him the drawing. The next day he insisted that Jack had to get into the garden. 'It was special,' he had declared, glaring at Owen. Even Jack was confused, but not wanting to upset Ianto had agreed. Recalling how he had discarded Ianto's knowledge that first day he went along, giving Ianto the benefit of the doubt. Ianto's certainty of actions meant he might be trying to demonstrate something vital.

After some effort, and it was a bloody effort because Jack was heavy and had no strength, they finally reached the swing seat. Jack virtually collapsed onto it, pale and shaking. After being covered with a blanket and tucked in he was asleep in seconds. Ianto had given Owen a thumbs' up then dusted off his hands in satisfaction and began gardening.

Bemused, Owen had stood back wondering at the madness of it all because getting Jack back up the stairs had proven to be twice as difficult as the journey down. However, that night it became more than evident that Jack's nightmares were far less intense. Not only were they less animated Jack had a more peaceful sleep before and after one of them hit. That said being less severe did not make them any less traumatic for those trying to calm him down. So there was a direct correlation between how much time Jack spent in the garden to how severe his nightmares were. What Ianto's drawing had shown was Jack at peace, well more at peace but the why was a mystery still to be unravelled.

The other mystery was that Jack's night terrors only happened at night. He had requested Gwen send up the 'Bractavian scanner' one of a number of useful gadgets that had fallen into Torchwood hands. It measured brain activity on many levels. It might seem an odd request but he had his suspicions and he needed some confirmation he was on the right track.

He had monitored Jack over several days and nights. Right now Jack was on the swing seat stretched out. He looked deeply asleep but Owen knew now this was not correct. Well he was asleep, but only just. During the day and out here he was in a half-awake type of sleep. Jack had told him that he was aware but found himself in some different kind of consciousness, floating while everything just carried on around him. He admitted it was a very comfortable place to be in.

He turned as he heard a small soft cry. Ianto, on hearing the cry, went over and knelt down and just placed his hand on Jack's face. He said a few words and Jack settled back down. Turning Ianto now returned back to his task.

Was that the answer that during the day Ianto was able to respond in some way to Jack that prevented him from falling into a deeper sleep? He considered Tosh's words that there appeared to be a deeper connection between the two men than would appear.

On the outside Jack was Ianto's full time care giver. There were a lot of things Ianto could do but he was still required supervision, direction and constant reassurance that he was doing things correctly. He checked in a lot just to make sure in case he had forgotten how to do something. Jack had shown them the thumbs' up sign to enable Ianto to see he was doing something right. Both he and Tosh used this to good effect; Ianto would glance their way and they would return with the gesture. Ianto would smile then with more confidence continue on. It was the constancy of the reassurance that made Owen wonder where Jack got his patience from.

That said Ianto had taken over a lot of Jack's personal everyday care, like showering, taking up any food, making sure he was comfortable, and so on. He smiled as he recalled the way Ianto had made it very clear that it was his shoulder Jack leaned on. Jack cared for Ianto; now in turn Ianto cared for Jack.

Tosh had also noted and he agreed after watching them that it was hard at times to distinguish were one ended and the other began. She wondered if others had noted how they completed each other sentences and sometimes Ianto answered for Jack and vice versa. If she didn't know better she would call it telepathy but knew it came from the close way they interacted and lived together.

Owen agreed but…he let out a sigh. He wished he could work this out. There was something going on; garden, Ianto, nightmares… he went back to what he knew. Jack was exhausted and physically weak. The man had virtually no strength or stamina. He recognised it as a form of fatigue syndrome without physical cause.

This left only one possibly reason as indicated by Jack's night terrors. Jack's dreams were horrific; his screams and cries were hard to listen to. It was clear he was reliving his worst times while he was a prisoner on board the Valiant.

As a victim of torture he would be unique; there were no marks on the outside. What had Jack told him? He struggled to recall and then nodded as the memory came to him. Jack had told him he had been the 'Master's personal stress release' but what did that actually mean? Jack had been on the Valiant with Ianto. What if his torture had been as extreme, worse even? His ordeal had never been acknowledged. On his return, Jack had tried to disguise his suffering but from the dead look in his eyes Owen recognised something horrible had happened to him. He recalled he had tried to get Jack to talk about it but Jack had always managed to avoid answering him directly. So Jack had been running on empty long before they had found Ianto. Finding Ianto he had then channelled every part of his being and pushed this aside to care for him.

Was the fatigue and exhaustion as witnessed and documented by Doctor Singh over the past 14 months evidence of Jack's mental struggle to cope? The mental energy required to suppress not just the memories but to deal with the ongoing plethora of issues PTSD threw up like flashbacks, depression, to a whole range of anxieties, panic attacks and physical effects would be phenomenal and that begged the question: how had Jack managed to do it?

If Jack was asserting some form of control then it was slipping because the trauma was seeping through in his nightmares. The stress had had become overwhelming, causing him to have a heart attack. But it was all theory. He had no proof, the only person who could give him any true understanding was Jack.

He had tried to approach the subject of his time on the Valiant with Jack hoping that someone connecting the dots would encourage him to would open up. However all he had had received was a sardonic look and a raised eyebrow. Owen didn't need to be a psychiatrist to realise it was possible the experience was so traumatic Jack couldn't speak about it.

Part of the problem was he had no idea just what Jack had gone through. Ianto was evidence that the Master was a sick sadistic fuck because it had left him shattered. Owen doubted if he would ever fully recover, but then he had doubted Ianto would ever speak again. What had happened to Jack? Jack had been held prisoner on the Valiant and a single throwaway comment was all he knew. There had to be more. He watched as Ianto bundled up the pulled-out plants and heaped them on the wheelbarrow. Could he risk asking Ianto? He shook his head. Ianto was only just holding on; he had a focus, looking after Jack and his routine. He knew from the posts on the board Ianto was unsettled in the extreme. He wondered how long it would be before this translated into a major upset of some kind.

He looked across at Jack. If his suspicions were correct this was way out of his league. There was only one way forward: he needed help. He needed someone to confer with and he knew there was only one person he could call. Opening his mobile he called and left Martha Jones a message.

"All I can tell you is it was bad," Martha added after she had listened to Owen's questions. "Trouble is Owen I wasn't there. Jack gave me his Vortex Manipulator and I escaped. I only returned at the very end as the Doctor worked his usual magic. As soon as the Doctor acted and the paradox machine was destroyed, our entire focus was getting everyone off while time rewound including all the dead bodies. It was pretty frantic. My parents were there so I was more concerned for them, they had it pretty rough. We stayed on the TARDIS for a few days. Jack acted like he was fine, but I could tell something had happened to him. He was unsettled and kept himself constantly moving, I don't think I saw him stop once. He had cleaned up but he looked terrible, pale and thin. I did try a couple of times to talk about what had happened ,but he glossed it over saying he only needed one thing and as soon as he saw Ianto, he would be okay," Martha told him.

"What about the Doctor?"

"The Doctor told me Jack kept the Master distracted but I don't think even he knows what actually happened to Jack in any detail. How is Jack doing?" she asked and listened as he gave a full and frank report of Jack's current situation, the results of the tests, what he had uncovered using the scanner, the nightmares and his suspicions.

"I agree, there is nothing physically wrong that would have caused him to have a heart attack. All the symptoms we observed are still present after he died and revived, any physically issue would be gone. Therefore what's in his mind remained so all the issues plaguing him before are still present." Martha reflected back.

"Exactly, I would say he is suffering from PTSD. My best guess is he is suppressing what happened to him."

"Owen, PTSD is overwhelming: nightmares, flashbacks, anxiety, stress, the ability to live day to day is almost impossible for some people. Look at Ianto, his PTSD is so severe it's taken hard work to get him to be able eat normally, or speak. So the energy required to suppress all of that would be unparalleled."

"The trouble is I am flying blind. Jack needs help but I am not in any position to offer any form of psychiatric assessment. The biggest issue for me is I have no idea what actually happened to Jack. I have tried to speak to him about it but he just remains silent, suggesting he can't speak about it..."Martha interrupted.

"Or it's possible he can't share because we have no frame of reference. I mean, how can he share with us something we can't possible even begin to comprehend? He might believe no matter how irrationally that we couldn't possibly understand." She paused. "I think we can pretty much guess he was tortured and killed," Mather offered after several moments.

"That's the problem, it's all guess work. We know what happened to Ianto; it was sickening, so I am prepared for extremes but the truth is we don't know," Owen told her.

"There is one thing more you should know. Jack blames himself for what happened," she told him.

"Explain?"

"For the Master; he believes strongly had he not chased after the Doctor, he would not have gone so far in the future. As a consequence the Master would have never been released. He also believes that it is his fault Ianto was left behind. But I was there Owen; I swear we searched that vessel, every room," she became upset. "So he feels personally responsible for what happened to Ianto. He has been trying to atone for whatever sins he feels he's committed. I think that guilt lays very heavy on his soul."

"Jesus Christ," Owen said under his breath as Jack's pleas for forgiveness were brought into sharp relief.

"I do now this: it was Jack's actions that kept the Master pre-occupied. It diverted his attention and allowed the Doctor the time and space to attune himself into the Archangel Network." She took a breath. "The Doctor told me he owes a debt of gratitude to Jack he can never repay."

"Could you ask the Doctor for help?" Owen asked finally, not sure if asking someone as powerful as the Doctor was appropriate, after all he was a Time Lord.

"Absolutely," Martha replied. "I'll do that right now, be prepared he might want to visit."

"Bloody hell," Owen burst out. "Okay if he does I need to ask one thing, can you ask him not to just drop in? Ianto is only just holding it together. To say he is unhappy that the house is filled with people he hardly knows would be an understatement, and he is sick with worry about Jack. I know Jack is worried about him. Jack has explained that the house and garden are safe zones, where Ianto should feel completely protected. That safety has been invaded and explains some of his unhappiness. I think a blue box suddenly appearing out of thin air and having another visitor coming into the house is something we should avoid. Ianto goes out on Wednesday afternoons to work on his motorbike in the village and Fridays from ten to four to doing odd jobs at the farm next door."

"I'm on it," Martha said as she ended the call and punched in another number.