They had all gone home emotionally wrung-out. Even Jack and Ianto left the Hub, choosing to go back to Ianto's flat, where both wine and spirits awaited. Even Jack felt like getting thoroughly trashed tonight.

He was nursing his third whisky when the doorbell rang. Ianto disentangled himself from Jack and stumbled to the door [62] to find Tosh there with tear-tracks staining her cheeks, her eyes red from crying. It seemed like months since she had last been here, not a week, just before she had gone to Glasgow on some fool's errand, the grand purpose of which was now completely redundant: the day she had got back was the day everything had gone to shit. He folded her into his arms and hugged her for a long time before guiding her in, towards the sofa. Jack pressed a glass of wine into her hand and she took a mouthful before speaking, her eyes fixed on Jack.

"When I go, don't do that to me."

He sat down beside her so that she was between him and Ianto, and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I promise."

It was a relatively easy promise to make, now that he had seen the consequences [63]. In fact, Ianto had demanded the same of him not an hour ago.

"I don't know what to feel," Tosh said, now looking to Ianto. "I can't grieve, because he's still with us. I should be happy about that, but I'm not. And if he's dead, but still walking and talking, what the hell is 'life'?!"

"Damned if I know," Jack said softly, putting an arm around her.

"Have the religions got it all wrong?" Tosh went on, barely even acknowledging that Jack had spoken. "Is it all about sensation? About food and sex and connections to people? Because that's what Owen can't do, isn't it? Is that what I should make the most of?"

"I think Owen would say yes." Ianto took a sip of his wine to illustrate his point. "What this has made me realise, Tosh, is that you and I don't have forever. We have a few short, hard years left, so we should enjoy what we can while we can."

Tosh pondered this point for a moment before leaning over and kissing Ianto. It wasn't one of their flirty kisses; this wasn't just for show. She needed to feel something, anything; to feel alive. She nearly wept once more when Ianto pulled away, and Jack pulled her back into his arms.

"Is this what you really want?" Jack asked her as Ianto brushed the tears that had trickled from her eyes, unnoticed.

She wrapped her arms around his, grateful for even this small amount of human contact. "I don't know," she admitted in a small voice.

Ianto cuddled in beside them. His eyes were full of compassion, of understanding, and suddenly she was horribly embarrassed.

"Oh God, I should go. I…"

She tried to get out of Jack's embrace, but he held her tightly. Ianto grabbed hold of her hand, stroking his thumb over the back.

"Tosh, we both care about you, deeply," he told her. "If this is what you need, there is no way we are going to let you go out there and screw some random stranger. That would be the epitome of meaningless sex."

"Ianto's right," Jack said, daring to stroke her cheek now that she had stopped trying to run away. "We love you, and we'll look after you."

She turned her head to look up at him. His soft smile was filled with affection and Tosh realised she had made the right choice by coming here. They would never love her the same way they loved each other, but that was as it should be: she didn't love them the same way she loved Owen. Their friendship was purely platonic, but strong and stable enough to withstand anything they could throw at it, including whatever would happen tonight.

[62] He wasn't particularly drunk, just his legs had gone to sleep.

[63] While Owen didn't fit the stereotype for 'zombie', Jack still wasn't going to subject anyone else to that. Eternal life sucked enough: eternal death would be absolutely hellish. He wasn't going to put anyone else through that.