Based on the song "Wind Beneath my Wings". (Lyrics in italics). There will be a chapter for each verse.

Everything belongs to the BBC. Except the song, this version of which belongs to Colleen Hewett.

It must have been cold there in my shadow
To never have sunlight on your face
You were content to let me shine
You always walked a step behind

Captain Jack Harkness was due to inspect the troops. His troops. His army.

His greatcoat waited on the stand behind him, but it was only a memento. He had a different uniform now. He was Captain Jack Harkness, again, newly reappointed to the rank. Leading his own army in pursuit of the 456.

Jack called them Taskforce Stopwatch. Ianto would have laughed that quiet laugh if he'd known. Jack still heard that laugh, sometimes, from just behind his shoulder. Every time they won another child back. Every time they destroyed another supply line. Every step backward they forced the 456 to take, Ianto was there, in his mind. In his shadow, where he'd always been. Where he'd been content to be.

The thing with shadows was you never realized how bad it felt not to have one. Something you took for granted. Something you didn't think about because it was unthinkable, really, that it wouldn't be there when you looked for it. Something you could manage without, so you thought. So you told yourself, because you had to.

But it always felt wrong to look behind, and not see it.

"They're ready, Captain."

They were waiting for him, the thirst for vengeance, - no, justice – shining clearly from each set of eyes. He'd looked for that shine. It matched his own. Every being out there had lost someone to the 456. They would follow Jack to the end of the quest, not for pay, not for vengeance, but so that no more planets would suffer as they had.

Not a single child. Not one solitary, single child would they take. Never again.

"Thank you, Midshipman."

Always Captain and Midshipman, while they were on duty. They had other names after hours, but no-one else ever heard those.

The Doctor had chosen well. Alonso was the almost-perfect right-hand man. Almost. Never more than almost, because the perfect right-hand man died in Jack's arms in Thames House and so began the quest for justice. Not in his name perhaps, because he wouldn't have wanted that, but in his memory, in his honor.

They got along well, Jack and Alonso. They had common ground. Each damaged by their own tragedies, each with a bit of a thing for the Doctor. And Alonso gave the army its balance. Because Alonso alone, of all the members of the taskforce, had never suffered loss at the hands of the 456. He'd lived through a different tragedy and found solace working for the Shadow Proclamation.

He'd been an invaluable ally when the Shadow Proclamation found out about Jack gathering his own private army. Alonso had convinced them – Jack still didn't know how - to sanction it so they could exert some control. But they hadn't interfered, because they knew they'd looked the other way for too long. They only had to survey the members of Taskforce Stopwatch to see the ravages that had been overlooked. Because the 456 had always been careful to take small, excusable numbers, and the affected planet had been always too ashamed of their actions to take a complaint to the Shadow Proclamation. It might have gone on forever, except the 456 got greedy and demanded the ten percent from Earth. Soon, they'd know what a mistake that had been. If they hadn't noticed already.

Sometimes Jack tried to make Alonso into Ianto, at least when he closed his eyes. But it didn't work. No Welsh vowels.

For anyone who is waiting for chapters of my other fics, apologies. I will get back to them soon but I needed to write this one. (There'll be a dedication at the end which will explain).