Torchwood isn't mine, and no gain will be made from this story, it's just for fun.

Notes- This is set just after Exit Wounds at the end of Season 2. It's kinda dark, but lightens up later on, I always wondered what the catalyst was for making Jack and Ianto's relationship deepen, and this is my take :) Hope you folks enjoy it.

Last Exit To Nowhere

"Go home."

Gwen looked up from the report she'd been trying to type up. Though, truth be told, in the last hour she'd maybe managed half a dozen words. She shook her head.

"I'm fine."

Jack crossed the open space, and turning leaned against her desk. He folded his arms, and quirked an eyebrow at her.

"You're not fine. None of us are fine." He gestured to where Ianto was waiting. "Go, Ianto will drive you home. You need to be with Rhys, to go and do something normal."

Gwen felt the tears threaten to break loose. "Tosh and Owen won't get to do anything normal again" she thought. Taking Tosh down into the vault had been one of the hardest things she'd ever had to do. Seeing her cold face, watching the body bag obscure the young woman as Jack zipped it closed. That oh so final clang as the door slammed shut.

Her head jerked up as she felt a hand close on her shoulder, and she nodded, drawing in a shuddering breath. Covering Ianto's hand with her own, she stood and the two headed for the door, Ianto draping a supportive arm around her shoulders, even as his eyes met Jacks. He nodded almost unnoticeably at the unspoken statement. Of course I'll take care of her.

"Do you want me to come back?" Ianto eyes were concerned- of all of the team, Ianto could always tell when Jack was hurting, no matter how well he thought he was hiding it.

Jack shook his head. "I think I need some time alone."

Ianto nodded, and though he looked uncertain, he turned and propelled Gwen towards the exit.

Jack watched the cog door close, then headed to his office. Slumping into his chair, he opened the drawer and reaching in, pulled out a bottle of whisky and a glass. He poured a generous measure for himself and knocked it back, mood turning bleaker by the second.

Another two dead and gone.

He poured himself another shot. Knocked it back.

Tosh's last message had been so hard to take. Reaching back beyond death to comfort them all. True, without his taking her out of the UNIT holding facility, she would have spent her life in darkness- on the other hand, all he'd given her was a five year stay of execution. And in the end, it was his fault. Tosh, Owen, Estelle, Gray, countless others.

Another shot, then another. He could feel the alcohol starting to take effect, and though he knew it was a bad idea given how he was feeling, he just wanted to numb himself. Make the pain, the guilt, everything just go away for a while. Though alcohol didn't have nearly the effect on him now that it did before Rose brought him back, if he drank enough, he could still get drunk. And by god, was he trying now.

The bottle was half gone, and he was feeling more than a little irrational. The anger that had been simmering away was uncurling in his belly. The only trouble was that the anger was directed inward at himself. Rationally, he knew he couldn't do this job by himself. That he would always need help, always need a team.

And those people would die, while he kept right on going. He knew this wasn't healthy, that dwelling on all those lost souls would just eat him up inside. But he had to feel that pain, had to go through it, or those sacrifices would count for nothing. That was why he needed this time alone. Time when he didn't have to be strong for the others, where he could just feel the pain, surrender to it. Especially as this time, it was all his fault.

He considered just slugging the whisky straight from the bottle, but could remember somehow that officers didn't do that, they always used a glass. Have to observe the proprieties, he thought, a bark of humourless laughter turning into a strangled sob.

He poured another, vaguely wondering how his Webley revolver had found its way onto the desk.

********

Ianto swore as the traffic got thicker. Gwen was sitting next him in the SUV, staring blankly out of the window.

He'd tried to get her to talk, but it was as though she couldn't hear him.

"We're all going to go like that, aren't we?"

Ianto jumped.

"What?"

"Death by Torchwood." Gwen was still looking out of the window. "That's how it happens to all of us, except Jack."

Ianto sighed. "You've seen the files then."

She nodded, finally glancing over at him.

"It's a dangerous job." Ianto shrugged. "But even with the risks, even with seeing friends die, I can't think of doing anything else." He caught her eye. "Can you?"

Gwen turned away again, her expression pensive. "God help me, but no I can't."

Her arms folded around herself. "I know I should walk away, that every day this could be it, and I'd leave Rhys all alone."

"But?" Ianto smiled sadly. "I can definitely hear a but there…"

"But I just can't. The things we've seen, the things we'll see- it's all worth it. Even at times like this, I still think that."

The SUV turned into Gwen's street, and Ianto pulled up outside her door.

"You okay from here?"

"Yeah, Rhys' car is there, I'll be fine."

She climbed out and headed into the building.

Now what? thought Ianto. He said he wanted time alone, but….

"Ah, fuck it." he said, and gunning the engine headed back to the Hub. He didn't know how he knew, but the last thing Jack needed to be was alone right now. He'd been acting strong for his and Gwen's benefit, but even the mighty Jack Harkness could break, and Ianto could see the act for what it was- a brittle facade.

The traffic was getting worse as the rush hour intensified. Ianto toyed with putting on the blue lights, but decided he didn't want to draw attention to the SUV.

He didn't know it, but it was a decision he would regret.