Deeta, finally! Enjoy.

A Hunting We Will Go - Christmas Eve

Jack was in his office, shuffling papers around under the guise of finishing off the things Ianto had been nagging him about for weeks.

"We cannot go into the Christmas holidays with a clear conscience," Ianto had said, beginning to sound like a broken record "unless we are up to date with at least September's paperwork. October would be even better. Add in November and that would be more than enough of a Christmas present for me."

"Just as well I got you a gift instead, then," muttered Jack, making it clear that Ianto's chances of getting October and November were non-existent.

Ianto sighed his frustration. "You'll be the first to complain if funding dries up and there's no coffee, no takeaways, no petrol for the SUV. If there's no petrol, you won't be able to tear around the town like a madman, getting away with all manner of driving offences in the name of Torchwood. Honestly Jack, you went the wrong way down a one way street on the way to Tescos last week, and when the police stopped you, you claimed you were on emergency Torchwood business."

"I was." muttered Jack truculently.

"Pardon?" said Ianto, although he had heard perfectly well the first time.

"I was."

"I do not think…' said Ianto slowly "that running out of your favourite brand of coffee really constitutes an emergency. A tear in the rift? That's an emergency. Aliens falling from the sky? That's an emergency. No caffeine? That is most definitely not an emergency."

"It was from where I was sitting." said Jack refusing to meet Ianto's challenging stare.

"But accepting a police escort?" Ianto was clearly still angry about that.

At this point Jack broke, as he always did. He had never got around to taking his 21st century driving test; after all, he'd been driving since the 51st century which made, to his reckoning, nearly 3000 years experience. But Ianto always brought up the veiled threat of telling the DVLC that he had no valid licence each time he really wanted to push Jack into doing something that Jack already should have done a long time ago. Jack knew the threat was just about to be delivered from Ianto's lips as an incentive to get the paperwork done. Jack knew that he could avoid Ianto's barely concealed blackmail by taking a driving test. He knew it was for his own good. Just like he knew eating spinach was for his own good too, but he couldn't bring himself to do that either. So he put up with the blackmail, but had never dared call the Welshman's bluff, because in his heart of hearts Jack actually thought that Ianto might rat him out. Ianto enjoyed this equilibrium. And Jack, secretly, enjoyed the game.

"OK, Ianto, you got me," he capitulated. "I'll do September." He kissed Ianto on the lips briefly to forestall the next escalation - October - and mussed his hair. Ianto frowned and smoothed it back down. Jack looked pleadingly back at the Welshman in the hope that he might relent as it was nearly Christmas and way past the time they'd wanted to start their own plans for the holiday.

"Go!" Ianto pointed severely towards the office. "If you'd only just sit down and do it, it will only take a couple of hours, not the couple of weeks you've already turned it into. I'm going to finish up in the tourist office. And then, when we are both done, we can go back to my place and…."

"And what?" said Jack with interest

"Well, you'll just have to finish the paperwork to find out."

"And if I don't?"

"The Driver and Vehicle Licensing Agency get an anonymous tip off and you get a lonely Christmas."

"Game, set and match," said Jack, wearily ascending the steps to his office, knowing when he was beaten.

Ianto smiled all the way back to the tourist office.

Ianto didn't actually have anything to do in the office, but he knew if he stayed in the main part of the Hub, near Jack, his resolution would waiver, weaken and die within half an hour and they'd end up in Jack's single bed and by morning they'd have nothing to show for it but paperwork that still wasn't done, backs stiff from cramming two people into a bed designed for one, and post-coital expressions that Owen could always detect from the car park.

Jack had declared Christmas a holiday, and as long as the rift agreed with him, they were all looking forward to three days off, away from the Hub, to rest, relax and recharge their batteries. Tosh especially was excited. She had travelled earlier in the evening to London to be with her family, whom she hadn't seen for longer than the family thought truly acceptable, no matter how secret and important her job.

Ianto was happy. For the first time in a long time he realized that he actually felt happy. Not just "OK" but genuinely happy, as if the future held something to look forward to, to meet with enthusiasm rather than weary acceptance. It took him quite a while to even recognize these feelings of hope, it had been so long since his young life had held anything except pain. His relationship with Jack seemed to be progressing nicely. Of course, neither had dared to tell the other 'I love you', or even 'I think I might be falling in love with you' but he hoped that would come. At the moment, he was enjoying the feelings of trust. And the sex was great. And it felt curiously normal.

Until he'd met Jack, he had had girlfriends. Not many, but enough. And he would never have considered himself to be gay. And even now, in the middle of a passionate relationship with a man, he still didn't think of himself as gay. He attributed no label to it. He supposed that he'd assimilated Jack's 51st century attitude, though he doubted that he'd ever find an alien attractive.

He and Jack planned to spend this Christmas – their first together - doing the things that normal people did. They were going to have a turkey dinner, even though neither of them particularly liked turkey, followed by Christmas pudding. Ianto's Nan made puddings for family and friends every year in June. They were designed to be perfect for consumption by Christmas. She always gave him one but previously, without anyone with whom to share it, he seldom managed more than a slice or two before tossing the remainder out onto the lawn for the birds. One year it occurred to him that it was a gesture symbolic of all he had lost. He cheered himself up that year by pouring a stiff whisky and casting aside the Thomas Mann he'd been reading in favour of watching the Top Gear Christmas special. His tastes were nothing if not eclectic.

This Christmas was truly a new start. He was beginning to heal after the traumas of Canary Wharf, and losing Lisa. At the thought of Lisa, a sad smile played across his face. He still loved her, he always would. But he had begun to think of her again as the Lisa he knew before the great battle. Carefree, wonderful Lisa. Picnics in the park, moonlit walks up to the observatory in Greenwich, lying on their backs on the grass, hands cupped comfortably behind their heads, looking at the stars, wondering what else was out there in the universe. Ice creams at the funfair; Lisa liked Magnums but Ianto preferred the more simple ice lollies he associated with his youth, playing out on the streets of Newport when life had been carefree and school summer holidays seemed to last forever. He always chose a Lemonade Sparkle above anything else. Rollercoaster rides; the time they'd stayed on the rollercoaster for three rides without getting off and oh, how close Ianto had come to throwing up his Lemonade Sparkle after the third. Lisa had laughed at him as she suggested a fourth go.

The memories of Lisa, complete and whole, were coming back. The memories of Lisa, part cyberwoman in constant pain, were starting to fade. No, he thought, not fading. They'd never fade. He would never, ever forget any second of that day in the Hub when he'd tried to finally help her to become fully human again. No matter how much he might want to. But he wasn't sure he wanted to. It was all part of him, what made him who he was. And he felt that he was a stronger, wiser person as a result of what had happened. No, those memories had to stay but it was good that the raw steel, stabbing, icy pain was dimming slightly as his feelings for Jack, and Jack's for him, helped him move on.

Ianto became aware that he had been dozing at the desk as his reverie had started to become much needed sleep. He was tired. But it was nearly 1.00am. Owen had left around 7.00pm, bidding them a cheery goodnight. Well, by Owen's standards it was cheery, which led both Ianto and Jack to the conclusion that he was on a promise. Jack surreptitiously scanned him for alien tech as he left, but he wasn't carrying, so it seemed that some girl out there in Cardiff had genuinely fallen for Owen's bedside manner.

Ianto yawned and called up to Jack on the intercom. "How you doing? Are you nearly done?"

"Nearly," said Jack, guiltily, putting down the Gallifreyan coral he had been absently fondling, jolted back from his own reverie about his time travelling with the Doctor. "Another ten minutes should see it finished."

"Great," said Ianto "I'm ready for home. I'm tired and hungry."

"With you in……"

Ianto cut Jack off suddenly, as an image passed into the CCTV camera view that showed the outside of the tourist office and scanned across the Oval Basin. The image switched every minute to a different view, from tourist office down to the harbour. But what caught Ianto's eye was a large-as-life weevil just outside his own office.

"Bloody hell, Jack!" exclaimed Ianto. "Look at CCTV3. There's a weevil just about ringing our front doorbell and singing carols."

"Well, give him a fiver and send him on his way." Jack played along with Ianto.

"Jack! I'm serious, you numpty! Look at the camera!"

Jack hurriedly left his office and swung into the main Hub, punching the button to bring up the camera Ianto mentioned.

"There's a weevil at the door!" said Jack, in surprise, echoing Ianto's own shock.

"I know, I just told you that! And it certainly isn't singing 'Good King Wencelas'," shouted Ianto in excitement. "I'm closest." He grabbed the can of weevil spray he kept under the counter. He never knew when he'd be called upon to go weevil hunting with Jack, and he liked to be prepared. Above all things, Ianto liked to be prepared.

"No, wait for me!" said Jack, standing to grab his coat.

"Shut up and listen!" exclaimed Ianto. "It's at my front door, I can have it in a couple of minutes. If I wait for you to get down here, it could be in Butetown before we get organized. I'm going after it. It looks like an adolescent anyhow, it won't be a problem. Just finish your paperwork so that when I get back we can go home."

Ianto didn't wait for a reply, but dived out of the tourist office.

He opened the door onto an almost deserted Rohal Dahl Plass. It was nearly 2.00am on 24 December. Snow was falling gently now and it was very cold. The ground was icy underfoot after heavy rain earlier in the day. The weevil was nowhere to be seen. Ianto swore briefly under his breath, afraid that the exchange with Jack had cost him the capture. Suddenly, a brief flurry of movement to his left attracted his attention. The weevil was attempting to hide behind a large refuse container, emptied earlier that day in the last collection before Christmas. Ianto ran towards the noise, spray at the ready.

As he reached the container, Ianto moved more slowly and warily towards the weevil. He didn't want to startle it by making any sudden motion. Here, it was quite well contained and easy enough for him to get it into the Hub unnoticed; not that there was anyone around right now to see anyhow. The weevil stood its ground, weaving its head left and right, all the time watching Ianto with its dull eyes.

"Steady, there's a good weevil," crooned Ianto, as gently as he could, hoping to keep the creature calm. "Just let Uncle Ianto get a little bit closer, closer, so I can get within range and then it's bye-byes." All the while he moved slowly nearer to the weevil. But just as Ianto smoothly brought his right hand up to spray the weevil with the special sedative compound, the weevil broke its cover with an amazing turn of speed.

"Rats!" thought Ianto. "I guess that's what you get when you corner a young one. They can really move."

Ianto gave chase. He was a quick runner, had even won the 400 meters at county level when he was at school. He started to catch up with the weevil as it tore along the paving slabs, under the bridge and out towards the harbour. Ianto grimaced when he saw the weevil head out onto the moorings. He followed the weevil at a cautious distance, not really sure what the alien creature would do once it realized it was truly cornered, its only avenues of escape being either the water or back the way it had come.

As it turned out, he didn't have long to wait for his answer. The weevil clearly didn't consider the water to be an acceptable alternative. As Ianto advanced cautiously, spray at the ready, the weevil rushed towards him, taloned arms flying everywhere, lashing out indiscriminately. One claw made contact with Ianto's chest and raked upwards to his face, drawing blood everywhere it touched.

In a detached manner, Ianto was surprised to find that the injury didn't hurt a bit. He supposed it was due to the initial trauma; he had no doubt but that it would smart like crazy sooner or later. And, in case it was sooner, he felt even more motivated to get this weevil sewn up so that he could get back to the Hub and have Jack sew him up too.

With Ianto blocking the weevil's path back to dry land, it made several attempts to dodge past him but each time Ianto blocked its retreat. But he was never close enough to use the spray. He began to wish that he'd let Jack help him after all. They were at an impasse. Unless Ianto made the way free for the weevil to get away, he'd be forced to fight at close quarters with the creature and he knew that he was no match for the weevil's strength, especially now he was injured. He was debating what to do when the decision was suddenly taken from him. The young weevil's final desperate dash for freedom caught Ianto off guard. Weevils were a pretty predictable species (so alike that Tosh once wondered if they were all perhaps clones) and if it broke for freedom, Ianto had decided to stand to one side and let it by. There wasn't much else to be done, single-handed.

This would have been his preferred option, and by far the least dangerous. However, this young weevil was full of the weevil equivalent of testosterone and was not content with mere escape. As it rushed by Ianto, it seized him, threw him to the ground and bit him very firmly and very deeply on the nearest extremity it could find, which in this instance was the Welshman's right leg.

Ianto looked at the back of the rapidly disappearing creature and sighed. "Great job, Jones," he murmured to himself. "Well done!"

Sitting on the cold, icy wooden planks, he rolled up the leg of his trousers to inspect the damage. It was a dark night but the vestigial light from the street lights and houses around the bay, shining through the snowflakes, gave him enough illumination to make him almost wish they hadn't. At the moment he couldn't feel it, but when he saw the extent of the bite and mangled flesh he winced, knowing that it was going to hurt like hell later – hey, add that to his chest wound, which had started to make itself known with a dull ache. He also knew that he was going to need Owen; Jack couldn't fix this. Owen was not going to be pleased, called out from his bed to the tea-boy's miscalculated weevil fight. It wouldn't have pleased him at the best of times but especially not when he had a hot date in his bed with him on Christmas Eve.

Ianto tried to stand up, testing his leg gingerly to see if it would support his weight. It couldn't. "Not ideal" he said to himself ruefully. He glanced around. Within crawling distance was a pole that was part of the mooring support. He half crawled, half dragged himself along to that and used it to hoist himself upright. His last thought as the weathered pole gave way beneath him was maybe he'd be able to use the part that had broken away as a walking stick to help him back to the Hub. And then he fell backwards into the freezing dark water and knew he'd need more than a walking stick to get him back to the Hub now.

Jack for once had actually, finally, chosen to knuckle down and finish the paperwork. He was tired, hungry and looking forward to getting back to Ianto's place to satisfy those immediate needs and some others that were nagging away at his groin. He knew though, that unless he finished his tasks, Ianto would leave him hungry, tired, irritable and deprived of a bedtime romp; at least for a short while.

He looked up at the clock, vaguely aware that Ianto should have been back by now. He started when he realized that nearly an hour had passed. Alarm bells sounded at the back of his brain. This was not right. Something must have gone wrong. No way should a simple weevil hunt outside their own front door have taken an hour to bring in. Jack tried ringing down to the tourist office, in the vague hope that somehow Ianto had returned and had chosen not to disturb him, waiting until Jack announced the paperwork was finished. He didn't find this option likely, but you never quite knew where you were with Ianto, which was one of the things that Jack found attractive about him. But there was silence from the office.

Jack quickly scanned the cells to see if they had a new inmate. They didn't.

Jack grabbed his greatcoat from the hook, slung it over his arm, and walked hurriedly down to the tourist office. As he expected, it was empty. He touched the Bluetooth comms device in his ear. "Ianto? Ianto? What's going on out there? Where are you? I need to hear from you."

He waited a moment or two. "Ianto, I need to hear you now. Anything. If you can't talk, just grunt. You have a sexy grunt you know." The humour was as much to lighten Jack's own mood as anything. He didn't think Ianto could hear him.

"Ianto! Please, say something now!" He heard a rise of desperation in his voice. He took several deep breaths, wondering momentarily what to do next.

He located CCTV3 on Ianto's console and rewound the footage to the time that he recalled Ianto saying the weevil was in the Oval Basin. He saw the door to the tourist office open and Ianto step out, shrugging on a short jacket that wasn't going to offer much protection against the snow that was falling. Jack was surprised to see the snow, he hadn't realized that the weather had changed so much. Then he realized it had probably been three days since he last left the Hub.

He frowned as he considered what he would have said to any of the team if they hadn't been outside in 72 hours. Luckily, as leader, he had no one to shout at him. Well, strictly speaking that wasn't true. They all tended to nag him but he ignored them, claiming that to be a leader's privilege. The CCTV footage showed Ianto chasing after the weevil. Then the picture cut for a minute to show a different view of the Plass. No one was out at that hour, the snow was falling heavily now and it looked cold and very uninviting.

Jack was very conscious that he might be wasting time looking at the CCTV pictures, but knew that rushing out blindly into the night wouldn't help Ianto. Not if there was a clue on the CCTV. He fast forwarded, taking care not to miss anything, the infrared cast a strange light over the film. But there really wasn't much to see; finally the camera came back to its position on the tourist office entrance and then panned out to the mooring.

Suddenly, Jack stopped the footage. He wasn't sure what had caught his attention. He looked very carefully at the picture. Then he realized; there appeared to be a slightly darker mark half way along the planks. He couldn't tell if it was just shadow, or water or even, and he hesitated to think this, blood.

Pulling on his great coat, he sped from the Hub, barely taking time to ensure that the door clicked shut and locked behind him. Not that there was anyone around who might try to go in. It was approaching 3.30am, well over an hour since Ianto had gone weevil hunting and half an hour since Jack had noticed he was missing.

"Ianto!" he yelled in his powerful voice as he crossed the Plass. He continued to shout for his missing colleague and friend. There was no answering cry breaking the stillness of the night.

Jack stopped at the pier. There was no sign of the mark he had seen. The snow had started to settle now. In one respect, Jack found this a slight relief, it meant that it wasn't blood; surely that would have seeped through the thin covering of snow, turning the white to scarlet. Wouldn't it? He wondered how much truth there was in his reasoning, or whether he was simply trying to make himself believe that Ianto wasn't hurt. But on the other hand, there was still no sign of Ianto, bleeding or otherwise.

Jack stood very still, listening, looking, for any sign or trace. All he could hear was the soft swish of the waves lapping against, and under, the pier's pilings. He listened intently, becoming gradually aware of another noise. There was a faint dull thud coinciding with the ebb and flow of the waves. It wasn't a noise that Jack could place, it certainly didn't belong beneath the pier. With a certain amount of dread he sank to his knees and looked over the edge of the pier. At first he saw nothing, cursing his stupidity for coming out of the Hub without grabbing one of the powerful torches.

He had a small torch on his keyring – it had been a giveaway from a petrol station one day when he'd filled the SUV. He smiled as he switched it on, remembering Ianto's quizzically raised eyebrow when Jack claimed eighty pounds back from petty cash for filling the car. Jack never filled the car. If Jack took the SUV out, it usually came back dirty and empty. When questioned about the change of attitude, Jack had reluctantly confessed that he'd fancied the free torch. Its casing was a pretty shade of green and it emitted quite a respectable light for a giveaway. And it had a bottle opener built into the rear end, where the key-ring hanger was. It wasn't exactly a sonic screwdriver, but it came in useful on occasions.

Tonight Jack was very glad of his torch. He shone it through the slats in the pier but could see nothing. He then lent over the edge of the pier, gripping the snowy edge carefully to make sure he didn't slip in. He wished he had gloves. He looked under the pier with trepidation. What he saw filled his heart with fear, and his stomach seemed to turn a somersault of truly Olympian proportions.

Ianto's limp body was rising and falling with the waves, bumping rhythmically into the pilings. It took Jack a heartstopping moment to realize that Ianto was not actually face down in the water. He was clearly unconscious, not responding to his name, but at least his head was out of the water, although the water was regularly breaking over him.

Jack looked very hard and realized that Ianto had used his belt to strap his left arm to a piling, so keeping his head just out of the water. As Jack watched for a frozen moment more, he saw a particularly high wave break over Ianto's head, pulling him under for a few seconds. But Ianto gave no sign of noticing. He didn't splutter. There was no involuntary reaction.

"Oh my God!" said Jack, stripping off his coat and shoes, fearing the worst. He was a strong swimmer and knew that he had to very quickly get Ianto out of the icy water. He had no idea quite how icy it was until he hit it head first as he dived in. He took an involuntary breath, gasping at the sheer shock of the cold, involuntarily swallowing a large mouthful of salty water and then spluttering it back out. He struck out for Ianto, reaching him swiftly. He wondered briefly why Ianto hadn't been able to get out of the water. He was a strong swimmer and even in this temperature, he should've been able to swim to the pier edge and hoist himself out as soon as he had fallen in. Jack didn't understand why he'd tied himself to the struts instead.

Putting that thought aside for the time being, Jack set about undoing the belt and getting Ianto to safety. He flipped the unconscious Welshman on his back and placed an arm around his neck, doing a peculiar form of backstroke himself, striking out for safe ground where he could get Ianto out of the water.

The water really was absolutely freezing. Jack quickly felt himself starting to shiver, despite the hard physical effort involved in towing Ianto to safety. His teeth were literally chattering as he got to the side of the boardwalk. He continued to support Ianto whilst he dropped his own feet vertically in the water, now doing a form of dog paddle tokeep them afloat. He pulled Ianto towards him, so that he had a grip on his slim hips then, summoning all his energy, he boosted Ianto up onto the jetty. Ianto landed like a beached fish, his upper torso out of the water, his legs still in the water but enough of him on dry land to stop him slipping back.

Jack wearily placed both palms on the jetty and pressed himself out of the water. He lay dripping on the snowy wooden slats, gasping and shivering and, possibly, crying tears of relief. It was difficult to tell as the icy water poured off him. He'd found Ianto. He hoisted him the rest of the way to the mooring and laid him flat on his back while he made a quick assesment of the Welshman's condition. He put his fingers to Ianto's neck, trying to feel a carotid pulse. It took him several goes as his own fingers were nearly too cold to feel anything and Ianto's pulse was very weak. Finally he was able to reassure himself that, although thready, the pulse was present. He then looked around for his greatcoat, which lay close by, and covered Ianto with it. He reached to his ear for his comms device to summon Owen. It was gone. It must have worked loose in the water.

He took a deep and calming breath. And then another. When he realized that he was no calmer after the third calming breath, he picked Ianto up and ran as fast as he could back to the tourist office entrance to the Hub. The security mechanism scanned his irises and the door opened. Jack ran into the tourist office, put Ianto down on the cold concrete floor, thought better of it and picked him up again, sweeping aside leaflets and booklets and pamphlets from the counter. He knew he'd have to clean that up before Ianto saw it. He placed him on the counter top and punched loudspeaker on the phone. He hit the speed-dial button marked "Owen", all the while ripping Ianto's jacket and shirt open, preparing to empty his lungs of the salt water and get him breathing again.

He knew that Owen would not be particularly pleased to hear from him at nearly 4.00am on any day, let alone on a day off. And for a brief moment, Jack wondered if Owen would answer his phone at all. Or even hear it if he was asleep. But he hoped that even Owen would realize that a call from Torchwood at 4.00am was out of the ordinary and signified an emergency.

After what seemed like an interminable time ringing, the phone went to answer phone mode. "This is Owen, leave a message."

"Owen, it's Jack. If you can hear me, pick up. Owen, please pick up now." Jack swore softly under his breath, but still loud enough for the machine to capture it. "For God's sake call me as soon as you hear this!" he said. He had intended to leave a terse, sharp, urgent, explanatory message but suddenly the adrenaline rush disappeared and his message sounded simply weary and anxious beyond all measure. Jack slammed the receiver down and cursed Owen momentarily for not answering.

Summoning his first aid knowledge, Jack began to breathe into Ianto's mouth, pushing air into his lungs. As he did so, waiting, hoping for that first spluttering gasp, he started to take inventory of what he needed to do next, and quickly.

He knew Ianto was suffering from hypothermia; that was inevitable as he'd spent so long in the water. The young Welshman's body was cold. Jack tried the pulse again. This time he couldn't find it. He tried not to panic. He knew that no matter what, he had to warm Ianto. A victim of an accident such as this really couldn't be pronounced dead for sure until they were adequately warmed.

He was about to start CPR when he thought he felt a tiny flutter beneath his finger tips. He would have cried had he not got his mouth clamped over Ianto's.

The sound of Owen's voice in his ear startled him.

"Owen?" he asked.

"Yeah Jack." replied a sleepy voice. "Who the fuck else would be ringing you back at this time on Christmas morning. Father Christmas ringing to see if the presents were suitable? What's the matter? This had better be good. I'm warm, I'm comfortable, I'm tired ….." Owen broke off, and Jack heard a sharp intake of breath followed by a low moan. Although no one could see him, Jack raised one eyebrow; he knew what it took to make him make noises like that. Owen obviously had company. Accomplished company.

"Sssh. Listen to me, Owen, please," cut in Jack, not unsympathetic to Owen's situation.

Something in the tone of Jack's voice stopped Owen in mid-groan. Jack could tell that he was gently fending off a companion.

"What's happened Jack? What's wrong? Are you OK? You don't sound too good."

"I'll live." Jack laughed ironically, his voice cracking with emotion. "I always do. No, Ianto is our problem child." Lying there on the counter, eyes closed and deathly pale, with blue tinged lips, Ianto looked, indeed, very young. Jack checked himself. Ianto WAS very young.

"What's the stupid Welsh twat done at 4.00am that requires a doctor? Paper cut from some late night filing? Pulled a muscle doing you over the boardroom table?"

"Owen, just get here as quick as you can. Ianto went hunting weevil, something went wrong."

"Where's he hurt?" Owen became instantly professional, all joking cast aside.

Realising he needed to answer Owen objectively, not quite as subjectively as he'd been viewing the situation so far, Jack removed the great coat that was covering Ianto again and really looked at the unconscious man for the first time, in the light. That was when he noticed that he was bleeding slowly from his chest and from his leg. The water must have washed those bloody traces away and only now did Jack recognize the severity of the weevil wounds.

"Oh shit!" he exclaimed.

"What, Jack? WHAT?" Owen was starting to become increasingly alarmed.

"Owen, he's hypothermic and he's bleeding. And he isn't breathing."

"Christ!" exclaimed Owen. "How long?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe he was in the water for half an hour, maybe an hour. I don't know. I've been breathing for him for a few minutes now."

"Fuck!"

Jack could tell by the escalation of Owen's language that the doctor had passed from concerned to highly worried.

Again, from Owen "Fuck! Any idea what his core temp is?"

"No, sorry." Said Jack. "But his pulse is very weak, if I can even find it, and he is very very cold. And I'm not sure how much blood he's lost. It doesn't look like much but…."

Jack tailed off, losing his train of thought. He shook his head, trying to regain himself. The slight loss of concentration was not lost on Owen.

"Jack? Were you in the water too?"

"Mmm" Jack indicated in the affirmative.

"Ah shit!" said Owen; although he'd angled his phone away from his mouth, Jack still heard the exclamation of concern. "Jack, this is what I need you to do." Owen took charge, directing Jack from the end of the phone.

Jack sagged in relief against the counter top; he was too cold to think and it felt good to have Owen tell him what to do. He let the sensation wash over him, aware that Owen was giving him instructions. But he wasn't taking them in. He tried to concentrate but the words didn't seem to make much sense. He felt his strength draining away as the adrenaline ebbed quickly from his body, and the coldness, tiredness and emotion began to take hold.

"So, are you clear on that Jack? Do you understand what you need to do?"

"Mmmm" Jack mumbled. "Er, yeah. Um, I mean no. Owen, tell me again?"

Owen was shouting into the phone now."Tell me, how is Ianto? Is he breathing for himself yet" There was an ominous silence. "Jack? Jack! How is Ianto?"

"He's still not breathing. And I can't find a pulse anymore. I think he's dead, Owen, I think I've lost him."