Chapter 3
'Here it Comes'

I went shopping after breakfast to replace everything that I threw out.

I hung around the flat for a while before venturing out into the world again. It was growing dark quickly – late dawns and early sunsets; my favourite part of the winter.

I walk aimlessly for a while, and soon I find myself at the Plass. I walk around, to the old tourists shop. I go towards the water which glistens in the dim light from the buildings.

I lean against the rope fence, breathing in the fresh air, and staring into the water.

I wonder how deep the water is. To be that dark, I assume it is very. I grasp my hand around one of the wooden poles connecting the ropes to each other, leaning in further.

The water must be deep. And cold. Someone would probably freeze to death if they were to fall in. They would freeze and drown; a quick death, I'm sure. And this fence isn't all that secure; a few ropes connected to wood? A total accident, it would be.

My grasp on the wood tightens. I can feel a splinter slicing through the skin of my index finger, but I don't care. I lift one foot up, catching it on one of the ropes. It is surprisingly sturdy enough to support my weight.

"No, you don't!"

I gasp when someone grabs me from behind, pulling me to the ground.

Jack Harkness is looming over me, a glare on his face, a dominating aura seeming to be emitting from his body.

I stay silent. It was a good thing, too; I would have said something stupid if I hadn't.

Jack drove me home in the SUV. He's probably afraid I might have tried again if he left me alone.

"What were you thinking?" Jack says, as he closes the front door behind us. I am still silent.

"Sit," Jack says softly, gesturing to the couch in the living room. I sit quietly, pressing against the splinter in my finger with my thumb.

"Sir, I don't want to go back." I nearly whisper. But, I'm pretty sure Jack heard.

"'Sir'?" Jack repeats. I tighten my hands into fists, trying to be calm.

"Ianto, I refuse to let you die, or to take away your memory of Torchwood." Jack said firmly. I look up, despite my worries that I might be crying with the burning of my cheeks that is definitely not blushing.

"Then, what do you want from me? Why are you like this?" I shout, as if letting out this rage will somehow vent the heat from my cheeks out.

Jack seems to not falter with my sudden outburst; as if he knew it was coming.

"Ianto," He begins softly, walking towards the couch. I stay quiet as he sits next to me, one arm stretched out across the backrest behind me. "It's called 'killing you with kindness'." He says, his voice nothing but sweet and calm, eyes seeming to sparkle.

"Well, it's working; but I would rather a bullet." I retort, staring him in the eye. My words seem to cut deep, Jack's composed mask breaking.

"Sit here." Jack says, walking off.

I hear water running for a moment and a clank of my coffee machine. I take a deep breath; trying to contain my rage from him using my machine without permission. But, who am I right now to give permission for anything?

I wait quietly, returning to my original task of poking at my splinter.

"Splinter?" Jack says as he walks into the living room, cup of coffee in hand.

I hesitate, but then nod. Jack sets the steaming mug on the coffee table. On top of a coaster, I might add. At least I taught him something.

Jack is silent and goes to his knees next to me on the floor. He holds out his palm, waiting. I flinch after a moment, realizing he wants my hand.

"Sorry..." I whisper, watching as Jack examines my finger. He looks up at me briefly, and then shoves one hand into the inside breast pocket of his greatcoat. He pulls out tweezers, and I cock one eyebrow.

"Don't even ask." Jack mutters, bringing it to my finger. I crack a brief smile safe from Jack's eyes, and then wince as he pulls out the sliver of wood.

A drop of blood begins to trickle out of the wound. I open my mouth to ask for a bandage until Jack puts his mouth over my finger, licking away the blood.

I suddenly feel the rest of my blood rush to my cheeks.

"What are you doing?" I ask after Jack releases my hand.

It's Jack's turn to be silent. I frown as he does.

"I'm sorry." He says quietly, looking up at my eyes. "I,"—

He pauses. He glances back at the mug on the coffee table. He turns and picks it up, and holds it out to me.

"Drink."