Set post-Adrift and post-Cyberwoman, with warnings for suicidal themes.

One

Ianto watched Gwen carefully take down every picture she'd collected, photographs of loved ones gone missing who would never return to their families. Her hands were steady, but Ianto saw the sadness in her eyes and knew she was suffering. It was, in part, her own fault for pushing so hard, for failing to trust that Jack always held their best interests at heart and didn't want to hurt them. And yet it was also no fault of her own that she felt things so strongly, and Ianto knew Gwen must be feeling grief, anger, and failure.

Jack was brooding on a rooftop, no doubt working through his anger with both Ianto and the Rift, and Ianto knew it was best to leave him there for the short term, until Jack was either calm enough for a confrontation that didn't involve coming to blows, or so consumed by guilt and grief that he sought out support. In the meantime, Gwen was staring at one last face on the board, her eyes filling up with tears as she took down Jonah Bevan's picture.

Ianto had number of issues with Gwen, from her insubordination to her lack of faith in Jack as a leader in spite of her clear interest in him as a man, but this—this woman before him, silent tears running down her face—was, in part, his fault. He had taken it upon himself to clue her into the existence of Flat Holm, knowing that Jack never would, but that Gwen would never stop pushing. He had opened the door for her, allowing her to see one of the darker sides of what they did, or tried to do, knowing full well the heartbreak it would cause for them all. Yet her innocence was something that too often endangered the team; it lent her a naiveté that, combined with her stubbornness, led to the constant doubt and questioning she'd been exhibiting for months, right down to refusing to follow orders in the field.

While he'd done it to save Jack the pain of being responsible for destroying Gwen's faith in the universe, he'd also done it to develop her faith in Jack and what he tried to do every day for the people of Cardiff. And if it broke some of the ingrained beliefs and alarming habits that endangered the team, so much the better. He'd expected tears and heartache, even fury and rage, but seeing her now, he felt nothing but tired and guilty. He'd played a part in this, and the least he could do now was help her pick up the pieces.

He came up behind her, gently taking the last photograph from her hand and setting it with the others. She froze before turning toward him. With a nod, he opened his arms and let her fall into them as she sobbed onto his shoulder. Rubbing circles on her back, he stood strong and let her cry, laying his chin on her head as he murmured, "I'm sorry," and willed his own tears not to fall.

With a loud sniff, she stepped back, wiping at her eyes. "What?" she asked. "What for?"

He smiled sadly and motioned toward the sofa, leading her toward the battered cushions and settling down next to her. She rested her head on his shoulder, and he put his arm around her once more.

"I'm sorry you had to find out this way," he said quietly. "I'm sorry that it's so hard for you. I knew it would be, but…" He trailed off, unable to continue.

"But what?" she asked, not looking at him.

He sighed. "But I knew you wouldn't give up, and I knew Jack wouldn't give in. It would tear you both apart, and possibly the rest of the team."

"So you left me the GPS."

"So I left you the GPS."

They sat silently for a while, though it was a comfortable silence. Ianto imagined any number of things she might do or say next and dreaded them all.

"Is Jack upset?" she finally asked, exactly as he had expected. He nodded.

"He's probably on his favorite rooftop right now," he replied. "Flat Holm always upsets him."

"Is he angry with you?" she pressed, turning to look at him. "Because when I met him at the island, it was obvious he didn't tell you to give me the GPS."

"No, he didn't," Ianto replied. "That was my own decision." He took his arm back and folded his hands in his lap, staring down at them as he thought about what he'd done. Jack had every right to be mad, and from their brief interactions since the shit had hit the proverbial fan, Jack was definitely angry. Ianto hoped it was something they could work through, but knew there was a very real possibility that Jack would see Ianto's actions as one betrayal too many. He tried not to think about what would happen if that were the case; he wasn't sure how he felt about quite possibly sacrificing his sort-of relationship with Jack for Gwen and the team.

"Is he upset?" she asked again. "Because I'd hate for him to blame you, when you only did it because I'm such a stubborn arse. I'll talk to him, tell him why—"

Ianto laughed in spite of himself. "I appreciate the offer, but I think we need to deal with it ourselves. You know, sit down and talk about it calmly over a pint like civilized men." He waited for her response, hoping a little levity would help lighten the conversation.

"Really?" she asked, sounding surprised. Ianto shook his head.

"Of course not. I think he's more likely to slug me or fire me."

That earned a shocked gasp that had her sitting up straight. "Ianto, no! He can't do that! It's more my fault, and his, than yours! He wouldn't actually—"

Ianto laid a hand on her arm to calm her. "No, of course not. I was only joking. We'd both have to be furious to come to blows over something. This isn't it. Besides, I think he needs to make his peace with this before you start telling him off again."

"What do you mean?" she asked. "Make his peace?"

"Gwen, you do understand why he didn't want to tell you, don't you?" Ianto asked, trying to hide his exasperation. She sighed and leaned back.

"I know he likes to keep secrets," she replied, and raised a hand when Ianto started to protest. "But yes, I understand why he kept this one from me, and from the others. It's terrifying to think that the Rift can take anyone, anytime, and it's even worse knowing there's nothing we can do to stop it, and so little we can do to help the poor people who come back."

"He didn't want to break you," Ianto said, staring across the Hub as he thought about Flat Holm. "Or the others. Although Owen is probably pragmatic enough to accept there's no cure for someone like Jonah, that doesn't mean it won't hurt him to see it and be unable to do anything. And Tosh may also accept it, but she'll work tirelessly to try and predict the negative spikes now. She's already thinking about it, I could see it in her eyes." He smiled, thinking of Tosh's determination. If anyone could do anything, it was her, and even if she only predicted one negative spike, at least it was one person saved.

"Ianto?" Gwen asked, sounding uncertain. "If Jack didn't want us to know about Flat Holm…how did you know about it?"

And there was the one question he'd been waiting for and dreading most. Neither Tosh nor Owen had asked, but then they had stronger filters than Gwen, respecting things like privacy no matter how curious they were. Gwen, on the other hand, sometimes didn't think how her actions might affect others. If she had a question, she asked it, if she had an opinion, she stated it, and if she thought something was the right thing to do, she did it without thought for the consequences.

And then she surprised him.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. She sat up and offered him a rueful smile. "There's me sticking my nose in where it doesn't belong again. You're the general administrator here, you know everything, so of course Jack told you. Only…"

"Hm?" he asked, knowing she'd never stop wondering and might end up badgering Jack again if she didn't ask Ianto himself. That would likely send Jack into another tailspin of crippling self-doubt and guilt.

"Only why was it all right to share something so…so horrible with you, when he didn't want to upset the rest of us? That hardly seems fair!"

He almost loved her for that, but instead of pressing a kiss to her temple, he shrugged. "He didn't exactly share the secret with me," he said quietly.

"You figured it out on your own?" she asked with a small smile. He shook his head.

"He took me there. As a patient."

Jack watched Ianto Jones move stiffly around the Hub, cleaning up their shit, as he'd so eloquently stated it the previous night when Jack had held a gun to his head. Jack had confined the Welshman to the cells while he and Owen cleaned up the horrors in the basement, working late into the night. He had sent Gwen and Tosh home, sparing them the worst of it, and had finally sent Owen home as well before he'd finished putting to rights the rest of the damage done to the Hub and settled down at his desk to check on Ianto through the CCTV. He'd collapsed in a corner, huddled into a shivering ball as he slept fitfully. Jack had taken down blankets and a pillow, and because his instincts told him he should be concerned about Ianto's mental state more than anything else, he had confiscated both the Welshman's belt and tie as a precaution.

It wasn't long after that Ianto had woken screaming; obviously a nightmare, and Jack shuddered to think about what form Ianto's nightmares must take. There was little doubt in Jack's mind that whatever had happened to Ianto at Canary Wharf had been pushed aside as he'd been forced to deal with his girlfriend. Which meant that with Lisa Hallett now dead, Ianto was most likely looking at a severe case of post-traumatic stress. Watching Ianto pace restlessly after flailing awake, Jack had decided it was time to deal with him, instinctively knowing from experience that the man would not go back to sleep. He had silently taken Ianto to the showers, allowing him privacy to wash and dress before leading him back upstairs, where he stoically began cleaning up anything Jack had missed the night before. Jack had hoped to avoid any confrontations with the team, yet they'd all come in early, clearly upset about the situation, though each in different ways.

Owen was struggling the most, it seemed, deep anger warring with empathy. The doctor had lost his fiancé to an alien who had taken over her mind as well, and he had done everything he could to save her. Was it so impossible for him to imagine doing what Ianto had done, or was he angry that he hadn't done the same? Tosh, on the other hand, seemed to feel more guilt, for both her part in Ianto's invisibility and the death of his girlfriend. She showed little anger, but instead a sad understanding, for she had done everything once, to save someone she loved.

And then there was Gwen, who had not known Ianto as long, who had not seen the aftermath of Canary Wharf, who knew nothing of loss like the rest of them. Gwen was confused, scared, and trying desperately to put both aside and be the compassionate heart of the team she claimed to be. Jack, however, knew this was something she'd have to experience personally before she started to truly understand Torchwood, and after all that had happened, he was tired of her pushing, her pressing, and her innocent naiveté: looking down at Ianto, demanding to know whether Jack would have really shot him, so certain he wasn't capable of such a thing.

At the time, he could have definitely killed Ianto Jones; now, he wanted only to end the tragedy and start putting their lives back together, and that included Ianto.

He sent Gwen back into the Hub with instructions to take Tosh and Owen out for coffee and pastries. He'd assured her he wasn't planning on doing anything to Ianto that he would regret, but that he did not want an audience for their discussion. He wasn't anticipating anything going horribly wrong given Ianto's normally reticent nature, but then again, he'd never imagined that the Welshman was capable of such passion, anger, and violence as what they'd witnessed the night before. If Ianto became upset or aggressive, Jack wanted the man to be able to do so without his coworkers staring; a small part of Jack even welcomed the chance to fight, to deal with his own anger and sense of betrayal in a very loud and physical manner. Calling to Ianto, Jack saw the look of pure venom the man sent his way before nodding curtly and making his way toward Jack's office as the others filed out.

Ianto stood before his desk and watched the others leave before turning back toward Jack, his face now the blank butler's mask he'd worn with few exceptions since the day he'd arrived. "You sent them away on purpose."

"I did," Jack replied.

"Because you're going to execute me," Ianto stated. His jaw tightened and his fists clenched, but Jack saw no other sign of emotion.

"I'm not," Jack said, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest.

"Retcon, then?" Ianto took a flash drive from his jacket pocket and set it on the desk. "I took the liberty of preparing a new identity several weeks ago. All that remains is for Toshiko to make it official. I've also left detailed instructions regarding my duties around the Hub, the state of the archives, and all my local contacts regarding Torchwood activities."

Jack took the drive, turning it over in his hand and eyeing it with yet another wave of guilt and sadness, that a man with such talents had been driven to such actions, and that they had grievously overlooked so much about him. Ianto had assumed that if he was discovered, he would be executed or Retconned. It was procedure, after all. Perhaps creating a new life had been a coping mechanism of sorts, his way of preparing for the inevitable, yet it staggered Jack to think that Ianto could now hand it over with such detachment. Even worse, that he had taken the time to leave directions for the rest of them regarding his job. Jack was sure they'd all be shocked at how much he did, because they'd taken it for granted so quickly and completely.

Tossing the drive in a drawer, Jack shook his head. "I don't need it."

Ianto nodded, his eyes clouding with sadness. "You don't trust me. I could have embedded some sort of trigger, a way to regain my memories. Or set you up."

"Possibly," said Jack, standing and coming around the desk. "Did you?"

"No, sir."

"I didn't think so," Jack murmured. "But if I were going to Retcon you, I'd wipe out the last three years of your life and set up a new one that would at least give you a chance to survive. What's on that drive is probably nothing but self-flagellation."

Ianto twitched, but did not respond. Jack walked by him, hands tucked into his pockets as he paced the length of his office. He'd thought he'd known what to say, what to do, but with Ianto standing before him now, blank and accepting of whatever fate Jack dealt, it was far harder than he thought. He'd half hoped for anger, that Ianto would lash out again and give Jack a chance to shout back all the questions he still had. What had happened to him at Canary Wharf? How had he got her out, past UNIT, all the way to Cardiff and into the Hub? Why hadn't he told any of them, asked for help?

Jack had thought maybe the other man would be broken and grieving, and had steeled himself against offering comfort even though he desperately wanted to fix the broken man before him. This stoic acceptance was unnerving, even for Jack.

"I'm suspending you indefinitely, until you're ready to return and we're ready to have you."

Ianto whirled, his face contorted with a mix of anger and confusion. "What? You're suspending me?"

"At least a month, half pay. You'll be monitored, obviously," Jack continued, unable to discern whether Ianto was relieved or upset. "I'll be checking in with you, and—"

"No," said Ianto, taking a step forward and slashing his hand through the air. "It's against protocol."

"Excuse me?" Jack asked.

"I know what I did and I know Torchwood policy."

"I am Torchwood, and policy can change."

"Then I know British military law," said Ianto. "My actions demand summary execution for crimes against the crown. It's your duty to Queen and country."

Jack strode up to Ianto, stopping close enough to sense the other man's anger radiating from him. "You want that, don't you?" he murmured, and he watched Ianto's arm move almost involuntarily, fisted at his side, before he stepped away from Jack, gritting his teeth.

"What I want is irrelevant," Ianto replied. "It's what the law demands. Justice for the murders I committed."

Jack couldn't help but grin, knowing it was cruel but hoping to provoke more reaction to better understand Ianto's mental state. "I shot her, Ianto. Not you."

"My actions killed two innocent bystanders," Ianto snapped. "Their deaths are on my conscience."

"Punishing you won't bring them back," said Jack, stepping closer. "And it won't absolve your conscience either. Trust me, I know."

"I won't have a conscience with a bullet in my brain!" Ianto hissed, and he lashed out and pushed Jack away before taking a deep breath and regaining some semblance of calm detachment again.

"I'm not shooting you."

"Drug cocktail then," Ianto replied coolly. "Owen would be happy to provide one. I'm sure he'd even administer it himself and call it a job well done."

"Stop it!" Jack snapped, his patience abruptly running out. "You're on suspension. You're to go home and pull your life back together. You've spent three months hiding from us, and it's time to stop." He took a breath. "Your punishment is to keep living. To atone for what happened last night."

Ianto stared at him so long, his eyes so wide and filled with such guilt and grief that Jack had to look away. "Fuck you," Ianto whispered, and he turned and left the office, every line of his body screaming with tension and anger. Jack followed warily as Ianto glanced wildly around the Hub, as if searching for something. When he started toward the armory, Jack immediately ran after him and grabbed his arm, Ianto's intent suddenly, frighteningly clear.

"No," he said as Ianto struggled against him.

"If you won't do it, I will!" Ianto shouted. "I've already done the paperwork and prepared the morgue, all you have to do is pull the goddamn trigger!"

"You what?" Jack asked, surprised enough to drop his guard. It earned him another right hook, but this time he was more prepared and able to duck away from most of it. The glancing blow barely rattled his teeth. With a growl, he grabbed Ianto's wrist, twisted his arm behind his back as he had the night before, and pushed him against the wall.

Ianto was more prepared this time as well, and used his free arm to elbow Jack hard in the stomach. His breath rushed out in a whoosh and his grip loosened, and Ianto broke free. Instead of continuing toward the locked armory, however, he shoved Jack down and sprinted toward the medical bay. Jack leapt up and tackled him around the shins, bringing him down hard in front of the stairs, kicking and swearing.

This was what more of what Jack had been expecting, yet the sheer ferocity of it still startled him, and it was all he could do to hold on, to slowly move up Ianto's body, dodging the almost hysterical, uncoordinated blows he rained with his hands, until Jack had the man pinned fast beneath him. Still Ianto struggled, until Jack let go of one of his hands and smacked him hard across the face, startling them both with the violence of it.

"Stop it!" he shouted as Ianto stared at him. "Or I'll do it again."

The Welshman's face went blank, his body limp, catching Jack off guard so that he lost his balance and began to pitch forward. With no warning, Ianto forced Jack off of him and scrambled to his feet, kicking Jack for good measure as he ran toward the stairs to the archives.

Jack jumped to his feet, his Webley in his hand. "Stop or I'll shoot."

Ianto turned around, placing his hands behind his head, the look in his eyes so devastating Jack could barely keep his weapon up. "Please," Ianto whispered, closing his eyes. "Just do it."

Jack walked slowly toward Ianto, once again unnerved, but this time by his own reaction. His hands were shaking. He was pointing his weapon at his own employee, again, a man who had betrayed him personally and the team professionally, and he was shaking. He knew now that Gwen was right, that he would not have killed Ianto the night before, just as he could not kill him then. His hands betrayed him.

Ianto had not acted from spite, malice, or evil. He had acted on love. He had done terrible things and had put the entire world at risk, but he had done so with only one goal: to save his girlfriend. Jack knew that Ianto hadn't brought her to the Hub to create a new Cyber army and take over the world; he had wanted to get rid of the Cyber implants and restore the woman he loved. How could Jack condemn such a big heart to death?

Ianto knelt before him, staring straight ahead. It was exactly as he had done the night before, only offered freely; it was even close to the same spot. Yet this time Ianto did not spit venom and anger. There were no tears, no defiance, nothing. Only defeated recognition and an almost desperate hunger in his eyes that begged for a release Jack could not give him.

"Do it," Ianto said, his voice flat but steady.

Ianto Jones wanted to die. By the strict letter of the law, Ianto Jones deserved to die. Jack could do it, could execute him then and there with little to no repercussion other than the cleanup, paperwork, and dealing with the rest of the team. He knew the others would never understand, though. Well, Owen might, but Tosh would be heartbroken and Gwen would be furious at yet another demonstration of their lack of humanity. It wasn't the thought of his team that stayed his hand, however. It was his own conscience.

Jack did not want Ianto Jones to die, and he certainly did not want to be the one to kill him. This was a man of hidden depth and passion, a man who had made the worst mistake possible for the most noble of reasons. More than anyone Jack had met in his long life, Ianto Jones deserved a second chance. Hell, he deserved it more than Jack ever had, and Jack had been given dozens of second chances. His conscience would not let him give up on Ianto Jones, when he himself had done far worse.

A small part of Jack's mind recognized Ianto's unique talents as both useful and desirable. He also knew that his own guilt was motivating him: he had played a part in this, and instead of sweeping it under the rug and throwing Ianto's body into cold storage, he wanted to do something to make it better. Ianto was yet another one of Jack's failures as a leader, and though he hadn't been able to save Suzie, he would save Ianto. He refused to acknowledge any personal interest and only professional, though deep down he knew it was a lie; it was one reason Ianto's secret had hit him so hard.

"No," he said softly, gently placing his hand on Ianto's hair as if in benediction. Ianto bowed his head as his shoulders shook with grief. Jack sensed the moment when the man set despair aside and let anger return, however, and put him out of his misery with a sharp blow to the head with the butt of his gun before the man could attack. Ianto fell to the ground, unconscious.

Jack blew out a shaky breath. "I'm sorry," he said to the man on the ground. "But you are going to get through this. You might hate me now for letting you live, but maybe someday you'll thank me for not letting you die."

Knowing that he could not take Ianto home and let him sleep off his grief without the man endangering himself, Jack did the only thing he could think of: he called Flat Holm and told them to prepare for his arrival, his heart breaking over what he was about to do.

Author's Note:

I started this ages ago, long before the Big Finish audio Broken was released. I finished most of it, and was slightly disappointed that the new canon jossed a lot of my story, even if it was a brilliant production. Yet every time I read what I wrote, I feel like it's still worth sharing, and so I'm finishing the last chapter, fudging canon a bit, and posting. It's a bit dark, and mostly character driven, a combination of the post-Cyberman/post-Adrift stories that populate much of Torchwood fanfiction, with alternating Ianto/present and Jack/past viewpoints. Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy the story!