So this is just a oneshot to get me back into the swing of things. Inspired by the episode Combat from season 1. Sorry it's so long I've been working on it for a while which means I really am out of practice. Anyway the title is inspired by the song of the same name. I wanted to do a fic that explored the dark side of Gwen and Owen's relationship. I also think that the episode Combat was a significant turning point for Gwen and I wanted to explore the vulnerable state she was in. There's a bit of Gwen/Jack comfort in there too (naturally). The title is a reference to fear, in this case Gwen's. I started the fic before I heard the song, but couldn't get the lyrics out of my head and just really liked the name. This fic is also vaguely about sacrifice. Anyway it's a bit different, but if you give it a go you might like it. Also, i haven't abandoned my other fics, just wanted to get some practice in first;) it's been a while but I'm glad to finally be back:)

For the first time since she had moved in with Rhys, Gwen found herself facing the bright light of dawn from the view of an unfamiliar bed. It had been less than two weeks since she had started the affair, and things had only been going downhill ever since. This morning in particular confirmed that their relationship, or more appropriately their arrangement, had hit its turning point as his tall figure directed a gloomy shadow over her naked form beneath the sheets below him.

"What time is it?" she asked hoarsely.

"Half seven," he replied impassively.

She sighed wearily, trying to stay as calm as possible. She knew she must have fallen asleep, the breaking dawn confirmed that, but more worrying than the thought of facing Rhys was the thought that he hadn't had the decency to wake her. He had obviously been up for at least half an hour as he was already dressed.

"Did you fall asleep?" she asked her voice slightly more forceful.

"Yeah, eventually," he replied callously.

Her teeth clenched and her cheeks burned as she fought back the urge shout at him and demand why he was such a heartless prick.

"So, what? You want to spend the weekend with me now," she half-shouted, deep down knowing the answer but unable to think of another reason to explain it.

"Don't flatter yourself," he spat.

"Then why didn't you wake me, Owen!" she screamed.

He stood there smiling, unashamedly amused by her torment. "Yeah, cause it's my fault that you couldn't keep your legs open. That whole 'sharing and caring' thing was just an act, Gwen. If you were tired you should have just gone home and shagged Rhys for five minutes. I'm not here to hold you when you sleep," he shouted displeased. "And when the fuck are you gonna wake up and realise that you've got no one else to blame but yourself. You blame Torchwood for messing up your life, you blame me for taking you away from Rhys…when are you gonna realise darling that it's all down to you," he said coldly, sitting down and edging towards her on the bed. "No one forced you to work for us and I'm not the one coming around and knocking on your door now, am I? Face it, your messing up your life all on your own. And they say I'm screwed up."

"Coming from you, Owen, that almost sounds like you care," Gwen replied unfazed.

"Sorry, Gwen," he replied indifferently, "there's only one thing you're good for, and believe me it has nothing to do with caring." With that he found her thigh beneath the sheets and leaning over her began to work his way up her leg.

She moaned despite herself as his hand began to caress her gently. And as if he hadn't already punished her enough, he let his hand linger over her before severing all contact that would cause her pleasure.

"You thing that your different, you're just the same as any other woman," he said coldly, his breath warm on her face, the smell of stale alcohol.

It was then that she could not pretend anymore. The sadistic son of a bitch. She hastily pushed him off of her and started to gather her clothes quickly. She was on the verge of a breakdown and she knew she wouldn't last long. He'd not only hit a nerve. The past week he'd used emotional blackmail to make her feel dependent, like he was the only one there for her. Now he'd made her feel like she had nothing and that it was all her fault. She thought of the irony of how she had once felt guilty for using him, and how he had played her for nothing but his own enjoyment.

"Look at you all high and mighty," he said playfully, watching her intently. It was all just a game to him. "There's no point in playing hard to get, Gwen. How about a quickie before you go?"

In that moment her phone had started to ring from inside her jeans pocket, but she dared not answer it until she was out of his apartment.

"Where's my shirt?" she asked reluctantly. He disappeared into the hallway briefly and returned carrying her black, low-cut T. He stood there in the doorway holding it out to her.

With her phone still ringing and her head banging, she exasperatedly charged over to him. As she came into arms reach, he quickly moved it behind him forcing her to move even closer towards him as she tried feebly to reach it.

"Owen," she said sternly.

Eventually he gave in and handed it to her, but as she tried to pull it away his grip on her tightened.

"Are you sure you can't stay?" he asked gently, catching her off guard. His eyes burned into hers, pleading and begging. It was a side of him any of them rarely got to see. Sometimes she wondered if everything else was just a front and underneath was really just a scared little boy.

Before she knew it, he had beaten her yet again. His lips softly caressed hers while his hand held her head in place as her lips parted. As they both pulled apart she held her arms out in front of her warning him to stay away.

"No. I have to go," she said sternly, slightly out of breath.

He responded by grabbing hold of her arms and kissing his way down her wrist and over her shoulder blade as she weakly struggled against him. As she felt his hand reach up her back and pull at the hook of her bra she determinedly tried harder to take control even though she had already begun convincing herself that perhaps after all she could stay just a few more…

"Owen, it's my day off. He's not going to stop calling until I come home," she said softly, hoping to elicit some tiny amount of pity from him as if that were even possible.

With a heavy sigh he pulled away from her and shoved her shirt into her hands. "Fine. Oh and next time, don't come back if you're like this. I'm sure you won't be wasting any energy on Rhys," he said arrogantly.

She could feel herself going numb. She didn't retaliate like the old Gwen would have. Like an obedient servant she quietly left the apartment. She didn't feel anything anymore.

A few weeks later…

Everyone was still recovering from the events of the weevil fight club, so Jack had decided to give the team a few days off to come to terms with Owen's almost suicide.

The hub was almost completely dark when he descended from a fruitless night's work. The lead he'd been following had turned out to be nothing more than a children's tale, but then again how was he suppose to know? All the stories he'd been told as a child had no morale or deterrence. They were based on truths that were used to educate and served as a warning.

He was so lost in his thoughts trying to excuse himself for being gullible, that he headed straight upstairs, entirely unaware of a second presence in the Hub that night. It was only when he had stopped completely that he realised he was not alone.

Coming from the darkness he heard someone quietly sobbing, and not quite sure what to expect he guardedly headed back down to find the source.

There was a dim light coming from the computer he'd been researching on, and as he slowly approached the sitting area above the morgue, it cast a faint glow over her pale skin, stressing the tears that bore dominance on her rosy cheeks.

"Gwen?" he said softly.

The strain of her grief which creased her gorgeous face immediately ceased at the sound of his voice as her expression changed to one of shock and surprise, and he realised that she had also failed to register his presence.

Her tears instantly came to a holt as she searched for him in the darkness. "Jack?"

Grateful that she had stopped crying yet embarrassed at having found her like this, he moved into the light where her blood-shot eyes finally found his.

She quickly got off the floor where she had been resting against the couch and awkwardly straightened herself up and began gathering her things from the coffee table.

"My couch not good enough for you?" Jack joked lightly, trying to lighten up the tense atmosphere that had suddenly formed around them.

"I'm sorry, Jack," she said quickly, "I didn't realise you'd still be here and-"

Not good enough… she thought. She looked back at the couch, worn out and used by so many people. No one would buy it in the state it was in; soon it would be discarded and thrown in a dump yard…unwanted.

She turned back to Jack who was watching her curiously.

"Um… I was just wondering why you haven't gotten rid of it," she said shyly.

Taken aback by her question, he smiled. "Well it's one of a kind, Gwen. Irreplaceable."

She hesitantly smiled back, feeling another wave of emotion roll through her and became instantly aware that she was about to crash at any second. "Goodnight, Jack," she said as evenly as she could manage and quickly made her way passed him, desperate to avoid being seen.

"Gwen," he said anxiously, swiftly grabbing her arm as she passed him.

"Please let me go," she said desperately, knowing that he wouldn't be able to refuse her. She looked straight ahead as hot tears spilled from her eyes.

Hurt by her formality he reluctantly released her arm.

"Don't go," he whispered pleadingly.

And she froze. Having neither the strength nor the will to leave him the minute he let her go. She had imposed on him and now her burden was his burden.

"I'm not the person you think I am, Jack," she said quietly, still facing away from him.

"You're exactly the person I think you are, and nothing you do is ever going to change that," he said reassuringly.

She nodded silently as more tears began to fall down her cheeks. She could tell that he meant every word, but it only pained her heart more at the thought that had he known what she had done she would have let him down, for her good character was lost forever.

At this thought the waves finally crashed. Her body shook as she cried openly.

His arms were around her before the first cry had even escaped her lips. She buried her head in his chest where he held her head gently, while his other hand clung to her back supporting her body against his. He soothed her gently as all the emotion she'd been building up inside overflowed, and although he was glad she was finally letting it out and felt comfortable enough around him to do so, he couldn't help but feel somewhat responsible.

"I'm sorry, Gwen," he began after she had settled down a bit. "I've let you down. I should have been there for you and I wasn't."

She instantly pulled away from him so she could look him in the eyes and convince him that this was not his fault. However, when she pulled away, her anger that he would take away from her the one thing that made her grief make sense caused her to slap him lightly across the cheek instead.

"Don't you dare, Jack," she said venomously. "I've let Rhys down, I've let you down, and most of all I've let myself down, and there's no one else to blame but myself," she spoke decidedly.

So many questions ran through his mind but he knew there was no good in bombarding her. He understood that she was harbouring many secrets that had driven her to feel this guilt, but what secret would she have towards him?

"I'm sorry I hit you," she said after a while, and he realised he had become lost in thought, no doubt the hurt was showing on his face as he thought of what she had been keeping from him.

"Gwen, when I told you to keep hold of your life, it wasn't an order, you know?" he said distantly.

"Yes, I know," she replied meekly.

He sighed. "I feel like I've pressured you. What I'm saying is I'm not going to be disappointed if your life gets away from you sometimes. It's only human that you-"

"It's not that, Jack," she interrupted, smiling wryly. "Do you really think that I would let you influence me like that?"

He smiled back warmly, thankful for the sudden turn around in her behaviour.

"Do you trust me?" he asked.

"With my life," she replied.

He led her over to where she'd been sitting on the floor in front of the couch. They sat side by side so it would be easier for Gwen to talk to him without feeling confronted by his eyes, and so Jack wouldn't have to hide the reactions they were sure to convey. He draped his arm around her, holding her in place by his side as she rested her head on his shoulder.

"When did life become so complicated…" Gwen murmured.

"I think I should take some credit for that," Jack replied confidently.

"The job's changed me, Jack," she confessed. "I'm not the same person I use to be. I've stolen, I've lied and I've cheated."

"You did what you had to," Jack stated, though it came out sounding like more of a question than reassurance.

"Relationships are built on trust, Jack. Tell me, how am I supposed to maintain a relationship with Rhys if he doesn't even know what I do?"

"He can't know what you do, not because of you. If you could tell him, Gwen, then you would. It's safer for him that he doesn't know," he replied.

"Yes, I know. You've said that before," she stated.

"Then what's changed, Gwen?" he asked a little more forcefully, growing tired and impatient. All she had given him were more questions and no answers, so he decided to get a few off his chest, thinking that maybe she would respond better to him if he started acting like a boss more than a friend. "You said that you've stolen?" he prompted. "Who from?"

She pulled back to look at him, knowing that she could not deny him any longer. "You, Jack," she answered truthfully. She saw surprise and betrayal suddenly creep across his features and reluctantly continued. "I stole retcon."

"No. You can't give up, Gwen. You're strong enough to do this," he said insistently.

She watched as his expression unexpectedly changed from shock to panic. She didn't understand. "Do what?" she asked urgently.

"Have a relationship and work for Torchwood," he replied. "I can believe you were going to do this without talking to me."

"Jack, I'm not quitting if that's what you think," she said calmly. Now it was Jack's turn to look confused. "I've been…" she began, "Jack, I've been sleeping with Owen," she said shyly, looking down so she wouldn't have to see the look on his face.

It hadn't escaped his noticed that Owen and Gwen had gone from hating each other, to being best friends, to back to hating each other in a matter of weeks. He had been aware of something going on between them for sometime now, but it was the first time he'd heard her say it out loud, and he could tell the words burnt like acid on her tongue.

When he didn't reply she continued. "I drugged him. I drugged Rhys," she confessed. Admitting to Jack that she'd slept with Owen was hard enough, and in a way she was glad he didn't say anything, after all what could be said? But admitting to herself what she had done to Rhys was that painful that the tears he deserved leaked from her eyes as she wept…and it was in that moment that she felt real fear.

She feared what she was becoming.

"I told him everything," she continued, watching her tears as they stained the floor, "and I begged him to forgive me," she said darkly. "I didn't give a damn how he felt. I wanted to feel better about myself, about what I had done. I needed to justify it to myself. I had no idea he would react like that. I thought he was going to make everything alright…for me. It didn't matter what I was doing to him because he would forget. I wish I could forget," she whispered longingly.

A dark silence fell between them.

"Gwen, I'm sorry," Jack whispered solemnly. It was the first time he had spoken since she'd poured her heart out to him. She sat there, sobbing quietly, her head in her hands. He didn't know exactly what was stopping him from reaching out and comforting her. His instinct was to say something, anything that would make her feel better. But he realised, she didn't want to feel better, she just needed to feel.

"Gwen, I know you feel guilty right now, but retcon, Owen and Torchwood, they are all down to me. I don't blame myself for recruiting you, perhaps I should. When I recruited you, I didn't care what I was doing to you either. I was selfish, like you, but having you here, now, is not something I feel guilty about. So blame me if you have to, but I wouldn't have done things differently and neither would you. All you can do is accept was has happened and move on," he said knowingly. It wasn't from his years of experience being around human life, but his own mantra for survival. Maybe one day, he hoped, she would realise how personal his words were.

She looked up at him. "How?' she asked timidly.

"What we're doing now," he replied, "by talking about it. You've carried this for too long, Gwen. It's time to let me share the burden."

They talked for hours. Gwen revealed things to Jack that she'd never told anyone, not her closest friends, not her family, things that Rhys didn't even know about her. Things that she'd buried. Things that after this night would never be brought up again, as long as one person knew her completely and loved her still.

"It was the countryside, wasn't it?" Jack asked suddenly. "That's where it all began."

"It was fear that brought us together, Jack. We were a comfort to each other," she replied.

"What changed?"

"I think…comfort made him feel weak, and he wanted control," she replied, thinking back to all the times Owen had made her feel worthless and trying to find some meaning in it for all their sakes.

"Did he hurt you?" Jack asked seriously.

"Not like that," Gwen replied. "It was more like a rude awakening. He said things that…"

"Weren't true, I'd imagine," Jack cut in.

"Not all of it wasn't," she replied thoughtfully. "We used each other and then he just threw me away, discarded and unwanted."

"You know I could always-"

"No, Jack," she said sternly. "Remember whatever I tell you doesn't leave your mouth, ever."

"Just promise me one thing, Gwen…never let anyone make you feel unwanted," he said.

"I promise," she replied. The sun would be up in a few hours so she began gathering her things to leave.

"Gwen, wait," Jack said, gently holding her hand in his. He brought his free hand up to her face and began wiping away the fresh tears that had constantly marked her face which each new revelation. She closed her eyes and he couldn't help thinking how beautiful she looked despite everything she had been through this night.

What he did next was almost unthinkable.

He leaned in, his mouthed hovering over hers, all those secrets they now shared. She felt his breath warm on her lips and shuddered. She opened her eyes.

"Jack…" she whispered.

Before he could even make sense of it, he kissed her. He pressed his lips against hers. They were like two joining pieces of a puzzle meeting together, and for a few fleeting moments, the picture was finally complete. She sculpted her lips to his as they pushed against each other, tasting, and savouring the feeling of each others lips on their own. It was tender and undemanding. It was like a light had formed around them, embracing them. And when they finally pulled apart, it was still there in each others eyes.

Without a word said between them, Gwen got up to leave and walk passed him over to the staircase. He got up to follow her out, but she was already half-way across the Hub. He thought about calling out to her, but by the time he'd made up his mind it was too late. She was gone.

In a few days time the team would be back at work and he would see her again. But he knew that although tonight would never be forgotten for either of them, it would never pass their lips.

Please review. If you do you never know...there could be a sequel on the way;)