The Doctor smiled as the familiar military coat dashed past him at a familiar speed, the wearer departing in a familiarly determined attitude. The sound of thudding boots disappeared, and the Doctor was alone again. He looked around half hoping that another one of these unique humans, brought together by an organisation to hunt and destroy him, had come to save him from silence.

No one did come, and it became too quite. The shadows tricked his eyes and closed around the lights, closing in on him. He rubbed his eyes and jumped up, then began cantering up the stairs towards the voices he knew existed and waited to bathe him company.

The TARDIS ground its way back into reality and shuddered as it touch solid ground. They could see on the viewing screen that the world outside was slightly out of focus, but moving back together. Everyone waited and watched as The Doctor fiddled with dials mildly related to the meters that some how represented 'normality of the universe'.

The door opened. No one felt the need to say goodbye, but Gwen smiled uncertainly at the Doctor in a vague thankyou-you're-welcome-back way.

The Torchwood team filed out one at a time. Owen quickly walked out first, holding the side of his bleeding head and limping awkwardly, not knowing which leg hurt more. Tosh and Gwen walked closer together in a rare display of female equality. They had done the work to save them, and the revelled in the fact none of the men had discovered that yet. Ianto followed at a small distance, staying close enough that he could follow the sounds of his workmates and figure out where there were. The Hub, he discovered as he tapped over a familiar length of corrugations in the concrete: just outside the Information Centre.

Jack lingered inside a moment, watching his team walk off independently, all of them thinking about the paper work they were about to avoid doing.

Ianto, I need a bloody coffee, in my hand, as I use the other one to stitch up my fucking broken face.

Absolutely. Would you like your own blood or a particular type.

Owen stopped and glared at the suited Welshman, and began to lean forward and leer as Ianto walked past him, unaware.

For the purposes of being understood by a self-destructive tea boy, I am glaring at you Mr Jones with as much pissed-off-ness I can muster.

Ianto held the information centre's door, smiled politely and ushered Owen inside.

I am well aware of that, Mr Harper. It makes your broken face almost appear normal again.

Owen paused.

What? Can you… how do you… Can you actually see my face, Ianto?

A little.

Ianto smiled, genuinely pleased.

If I shut my eye, and catch you in full sun, I can make where the blood is running on your face – they're opposite colours.

The coroner smiled – he'd forgotten how pleasing it could be to work with patients whose conditions actually improved.

Although, I'm not sure I would have chosen your face to have seen first.

Owen grunted as he limped through the door, and a placidly smiling Ianto followed, shutting the door behind them.

Jack stepped out of the TARDIS and looked back and forth between the Doctor back inside and the closing door of the Information Centre. He tugged his coat high up around his neck as the wind leapt towards him from across the icy Cardiff Bay. The Doctor stood at the top of the ramp inside the TARDIS, leaving an uncomfortable but intentional distance between the two.

Take care, Jack.

I will.

Both men fidgeted, needing to say something more, but not wanting to say a word. Jack finally stepped forward.

I know I've never done right by you – never quite been up to your moral code. But I am a better person than that twisted, scared, bastard who threw you into oblivion.

The Doctor stepped closer to Jack and leaned up against the blue timber door. He crossed his arms and waited, his eyes expectant like a tired mother expecting her child to say 'thankyou' as it received a present.

Obedience never had been Jack's strong card.

I'll see you next time, Doctor.

His coat whipped around him as he walked away from the man in the blue box, who would always be there, and who would always come back.

As the door chimes tinkled with Jack's entrance, the TARDIS faded out of that moment unnoticed.

Ianto sat at the help desk absently flipping through a magazine, occasionally starting when the sun reflected off the glossy pages to mimic true sight. Jack approached hesitantly. The white bandages he had been so afraid of were gone from his lover's face, revealing two bloodshot eyes – though the left was far redder than the right.

The distance to the desk became shorter and Jack seriously considered walking past it, leaving the monumental rift between the two to expand with an uneasy rapidity.

Jack.

Ianto didn't even look up as he spoke. Jack paused, expecting Ianto to continue. He didn't. It hadn't been a 'hang on, I have something to say' Jack, it was more of a warning from a fed up partner in an unhappy relationship; except Ianto had long ago abandoned the labels of partner and relationship.

There were two chairs in front of Ianto's desk, so Jack stiffly slid onto the one closest to him and Ianto. Ianto finally ended his masquerade of reading and flipped the magazine closed. He leaned back in chair a little, correcting his posture. The scene's likeness to an interrogation was uncanny.

What have I done to you?

Ideas of accusation, bitterness, and bewilderment floated in the air. Ianto hardly expected an answer; he had hardly expected the question.

It's not you.

Jack blurted, sucking his lips together to barricade any other words teetering on his tongue.

Ianto's face didn't change, but the slumping of his back betrayed his emotion.

It never is. It's always you. It's always been about you.

He stood up and pushed his chair in, then leaned on the chair back and looked away from Jack and at the bright window.

Jack didn't want another cold silence; he swept off the chair and imposed himself into Ianto's gaze.

They stood one stride apart, and Jack closed the distance and looked directly into Ianto's better eye. Sunshine illuminated Jack's face, and Ianto watched Jack's shadowed lips open and close, half forming words with no heart or belief behind them. Jack knew what he wanted to say.

I still do love you.

Jack's finger traced the bottom of Ianto's jaw before cupping the younger man's cheek. He leaned forwards and gently kissed Ianto.

Ianto put his hand on his boss's shoulder and softly pushed him away.

I don't think you do. I think you're in love with a moment. That's all anyone can be to you. I understand that your… longevity is a curse. For everyone. Love does feel a little insincere coming from someone who's had generations of lovers before.

You can love more than one person in a lifetime.

Jack's eyes burned with impetuous tears and his weak voice wobbled in time with his chin.

You think I don't know that? But can you really ever get past your first love – do you ever stop comparing every other you meet and love with your first?

Ianto took a step back as he spoke.

I have never compared you with anyone. You're just a naïve child who hasn't lived enough to learn anything important.

And that's just it, isn't it. I was never going to live for much longer anyway. That's Torchwood. We. All. Die. Young.

A buzzer stopped Jack from arguing back, and Owen yelled down the corridor that linked the Hub to the Information Centre.

Where's my bloody coffee? It better be the best damn coffee I ever drank if it takes this fucking long.

Ianto took another step away from his old lover and tried to layer professionalism over his emotion-thick voice.

Duties call, sir. Would you like a cup of coffee? It might taste different in a new mug.

No thank you, Ianto. I won't impose on your time.

The tea-boy nodded and walked away, his almost perfectly polished shoes tapping as he walked.

Jack sniffed and rubbed his face. The room still felt like Ianto was in it. There wasn't a time he had kept in his memory that the Information Centre didn't have Ianto in it. It had hardly occurred to him before that he didn't remember people who had gone.

He saw names and faces and felt nothing good: pain was umbrella emotion for every smiling, every dying face and memory he conjured.

Ianto stood beside the coffee machine, holding a steel pot of milk under the frothing spout, his finger lightly touching the bottom to make sure the milk didn't burn. The CCTV screen sat on the bench beside him, the contrast and brightness cranked up to only show ebony silhouettes and snow white background.

A black solid black rectangle glided through a slightly larger white rectangle, and then disappeared out of the screen. Ianto's bottom lip twinged, and he stopped moving the milk around in smooth circles.

The heat on the bottom of the jug had been growing steadily warmer, and the warmth suddenly stung with boiling heat. Ianto's hand convulsed and he slammed the jug on the bench. Boiling milk spattered over his hand.

With difficulty, he unclenched his hand and ran it under water while his other hand rummaged under the bench. He pulled out a box of gel patches, tore the packeting off with his teeth, patted his burned hand dry on his shirt, and slapped the cold gel to his blistering hand. The pain instantly ebbed away as the anaesthetic seeped into his skin. He exhaled steadily.

When he finished making the coffees he loaded them on a tray and smoothly strolled out of the kitchen. Tosh muttered a 'ta' as he set her mug on her desk and turned to Gwen.

Oh, thankyou cariad, she breathed as she sipped her elixir. She rolled her eyes as she revelled in its warmth and deliciousness, and Ianto began to walk away in satisfaction to his last delivery.

Did Jack come in with you?

Ianto slowed down at the top of the stairs and half turned back to Gwen.

No, he's gone off again.

Toshiko kept typing, Gwen took another sip of her coffee, Owen still clattered with his tools, and Ianto walked steadily down the stairs without spilling any coffee.

A/N – Well that's it friends! I hope you enjoyed reading Eyes Unclouded as much as I enjoyed writing it. If I could ask a small favour of you, I will be grateful if you could give me some constructive criticism – what did you like about it, what didn't you like? Did I over do something or mess up continuity or characterisation? I want to improve my writing, and see if I have actually implemented anything I have learnt at uni. Thank you so much for reading, favouriting, and reviewing. May all your fanfics be read and reviewed by thousands! O.