Two Wrongs Make A Right, a torchwood fanfic

Summary: AU. When Ianto Jones attempts to commit suicide after his girlfriend dies in a hit-and-run accident, he is saved by a mysterious stranger, who subsequently appears at his hospital bed at night. Janto.

Disclaimer: Torchwood belongs completely to the BBC.

Two Wrongs Make A Right

The landscape sped by as Ianto increased the speed of the car. The country road was deserted, the sky pitch black and the ravine besides the road seemed endless. A bend was coming up ahead. Ianto tightened his grip on the wheel and the car gained even more speed. He closed his eyes. He had no intention of steering the car around the bend ahead. With a flick of his wrist, he turned off the headlights. There was no need for them. A final time, he let his life pass in front of him.

Making Lisa's favourite dinner. Setting the table. Taking the trouble to light candles and put on music. The doorbell ringing. Getting up to answer it, smile on his face, wanting to welcome her in his arms. Two policemen. Their faces grim and somehow he knows. He knows she won't be coming home.

The funeral. Rain. Her parents crying while he stands there, numb. The police telling him that they have no leads. Hit-and-run. Lisa died on impact and her killer just kept driving. Sometimes he feels angry. Sometimes he feel so much pain that he can't breathe. But most of the time, he just feels numb.

Returning to his job after a month. He used to love the library. Loved working there and loved losing himself in the books, relishing the different stories. He hasn't picked up a book since she'd died. His colleagues were full of sympathy and pity, but he found himself hiding from them more and more.

Two months after her death. Sitting alone in his dark apartment. Making up his mind. Putting all his stuff in boxes. Deciding not to leave a note. Telling his boss at the library that he needs a couple of days off to get away from it all. He tells his sister the same. They won't miss him for a few more days.

Getting into the car. Driving up to this place. He knows it's deserted. He knows he won't hurt anyone else this way. He knows that this is it.

Ianto opens his eyes just in time to see the car flying off the cliff. The impact when it reaches the ground never reaches his ears. All is black.

Consciousness returns slowly and for a moment, he believes he is waking from a nightmare. Then the pain sets in and he gasps. The car is crushed around him and Ianto can't move. He can't turn his head and can't see anything in the dark. He doesn't even want to. He closes his eyes for a moment, hoping the blackness will overtake him again, but it lets him down.

He can't move and he's alone. It is a feeling of helplessness unlike any other. He remembers one time when he'd fallen off his bike as a boy and had hit his head on the street. Unable to get up, he'd had to wait for kind strangers to take him home. There would be no kind strangers here. He feels hot tears flowing down his face as he starts to close his eyes again, determined not to wake up another time.

"Keep your eyes open."

Ianto startles. Again, he is forced to wonder whether this is a dream. A shadowy face appears at the broken window of the car and Ianto finds himself staring into the light blue eyes of a man.

"That's it. Keep your eyes open. Look at me! Don't go to sleep, okay?" The stranger attempts to open the car door, but it is stuck. "Help is coming. I called for help. I just need you to hold on, okay?"

Ianto suddenly hears sirens wailing in the distance, but it is as if a fog is clouding his mind. He can't fathom what the noises mean. The numbness he has grown so accustomed to in the previous months, is returning.

"Hey!" The stranger places a head on Ianto's cheek and again, Ianto stares into his blue eyes. "Hold on."

The police and ambulance arrive and suddenly, the stranger disappears from Ianto's view. Ianto tries to look for him, but they're telling him to keep his head still when they try to free him from the wreckage. He tells them to leave him be, but they're not listening. They're saying he's going to be alright. He wants to laugh, but seems only capable of whimpering. Laying on a stretcher, Ianto's eyes still are still searching for the stranger, but soon the doors of the ambulance close behind him and he notices how very tired he feels.

When he wakes up again, wakes up properly, it is night once more. However, Ianto is quite sure it isn't the same night as when he crashed his car. He remembers only snippets of the past day. The doctors working on him, a kind nurse telling him he's in the hospital and that he's safe, a man shining a light in his eyes and asking him his name. He remembers that it took him a while to come up with it. He also remembers being nauseous and throwing up. It had hurt.

The sheets of the bed he's in are white and clean. It hurts to breathe, but not much. His head is also pounding. Gingerly, he moves it slightly to the side and is relieved to find that the motion is relatively painless. His neck is not broken then and he's not feeling sick now. He turns his head from right to left and startles when he sees a figure standing over him. It takes him a few seconds to recognize the piercing blue eyes.

"Ianto Jones." The man's voice sounds American. Ordinarily, Ianto reckons it would be a nice voice to listen to, but right now, the stranger's tone is harsh, almost angry. "Born on August 19th 1983." The man wanders over to the ends of Ianto's bed and picks up the chart that is swinging from the end. "Six broken ribs, a punctured lung, broken left arm and a concussion. Some cuts and bruises, but overall, I think we can call this a rather fortunate outcome." The last words are laced with sarcasm.

Ianto looks down and sees that the stranger is right. His left arm is in a cast. "Who are you?" He croaks out. His throat is dry and he finds it hard to speak. The sound of his own voice is unfamiliar to him, muffled behind an oxygen mask. He raises his right hand to remove it, but the stranger stops him, forcing Ianto to leave it on.

"No-one. And for a man of my charisma, that's quite an achievement." The man with the blue eyes lets the chart fall. "But this," he gestures at Ianto's body, "this wasn't what you wanted, was it? You were aiming for something more." He draws a chair closer to Ianto's bed and sits down. "I was the anonymous witness who called the police and the ambulance. I was the one who told them there had been an accident. But I saw what you did. You steered off that road on purpose. You wanted to kill yourself." He pauses for a moment and Ianto finds himself unable to break eye contact. "Why?"

"Why should I tell you?" Ianto has to force the words out. He feels vulnerable, laying flat and virtually immobile on the bed, while the stranger is free to move about.

"Because if you don't, I'll tell them what I saw." The stranger's tone is seemingly light, but his eyes betray him. "And when you wake up the next time, you'll be handcuffed to a bed in the psych ward."

Ianto's breathing quickens and he feels stabs of pain in his ribs. The man is at his bed in an instant.

"Calm down. Calm down, just breathe slowly. That's it. Slowly." He turns away for a moment and fiddles with the morphine drip that leads into Ianto's arm, upping the dosage. "I won't tell them. Don't worry. I'm not that cruel. But I expect an answer tomorrow." Suddenly, his mouth is very close to Ianto's ear and he can feel the other man's breath. It doesn't scare him. "Go to sleep, Ianto Jones."

And he does.

When Ianto wakes again, sunlight is streaming in through the window. A nurse is checking the IV port in his arm and asks him about the pain. He answers her questions, tells her he feels fine, all things considering. He's careful to sounds optimistic and to hide any signs of the depression and sense of failure that come over him at times. And then, when she's about to leave, he asks her the question that has been on his mind ever since he woke up.

"Has there been a man to visit me?"

"A man?" The nurse smiles patronizingly at him. "No, dear. You've had no visitors. Sorry. You must have been dreaming. Perfectly normal, considering your concussion and the medication."

He nods and smiles at her. But he knows he wasn't imaging things. "So, when do you think I can leave?"

The nurse's smile fades a little. "I'm afraid it's going to be a while. We want to make sure your ribs and lung are healing properly and you have no permanent head trauma. So a week at the least."

He quickly resigns himself to the situation. An hour later, a different nurse comes in to feed him. He can't sit up yet and has no appetite. Being fed is embarrassing and makes him uncomfortable. After a few bites, he convinces the nurse to let him be. He also persuades her he no longer needs the oxygen mask, even though he secretly still has trouble breathing.

Not long after that, he dozes off, unable to understand why the face of the stranger keeps appearing on the forefront of his mind.

He steps slowly into the morgue. There's still hope. They need him to look at a body to make an identification and he knows it won't be her. It can't be her. It mustn't be her.

They tell him to remain behind the window. The pathologist will lift up the sheet and he'll only have to look at her face for a moment. He nods. He understand. It won't be her anyway.

He watches as the sheet is drawn away and a woman's face slowly appears. It feels as if a solid object has collided with him, knocking the wind out of him. He gasps for air and reaches out towards the glass. He suddenly becomes aware that he can't breathe.

"Hey!"

Ianto gulps in a large breath and whimpers as his ribs protest. He feels a weight on both his shoulders, pressing him down. He panics.

"It's okay. I'm just holding you so you won't move and hurt yourself, understand?"

The blue eyes are back. Ianto instantly relaxes. The stranger apparently feels it, because the weight from his shoulders disappears. Ianto draws in a slow breath.

"How's the pain?"

"It's okay." He's lying. It really hurts.

The stranger sees right through him and turns to the morphine drip again. It takes only seconds before it takes effect and Ianto closes his eyes for a moment as the relief floods his system.

"Who's Lisa?" The man asks it casually, but they both know the question is far from casual.

Ianto remains silent. He stares at the ceiling.

"Is she the reason you're here?"

Ianto's snort of derision turns into a cough and he clutches his ribs with the arm that isn't broken. He feels the stranger's hand on his shoulder, his thumb rubbing comforting circles until Ianto is able to breathe again without wincing. "Yes," he says softly, having lost the will to resist the question due to the coughing fit. "She's the reason."

"What happened?"

Ianto looks into the blue eyes and starts talking. He doesn't know why. He's never talked about it before, not like this. His speech is still laboured and he pauses often, but the man next to his bed waits patiently. He tells him how he met Lisa, about their first date. At some point during the story, he starts crying. The man next to his bed helps him to lift his head and allows him to take a sip of water. Then Ianto talks about their first fight and how they reconciled later that day. He talks about how he used to work too much and how he was planning to make it up to her by making her dinner. He tells the stranger how he set the table and about what happened when the doorbell rang. When he talks about the hit-and-run, he starts crying again. This time, he feels the stranger's hand stroking his cheek, wiping the tears away. He leans into the gesture.

When the stranger speaks for the first time since Ianto started his story, he simply says: "I'm sorry."

"Me too," Ianto whispers. He suddenly feels embarrassed, clinging to a stranger like this, but he can't bring himself to jerk away. Eventually, the pain and the medication tire him out and he falls asleep as the tears dry on his cheeks, feeling the stranger stroking his hair.

When Captain Jack Harkness finally decides to leave, it's almost morning. He softly kisses Ianto's forehead and then disappears as quietly as he came in.

Ianto tries to sleep as much as possible during the day. He hates the looks of pity the doctors and the nurses give him when visiting hours start. He hates that he still can't sit up and feed himself properly. He hates being dependant on others this much.

He tries to sleep as much as possible during the day, because when he's asleep, he doesn't have to think. He doesn't have to think about the stranger with the blue eyes and the large coat who sits next to his bed every evening. He doesn't have to feel guilty, because he isn't thinking of Lisa as much as he used to. He doesn't have to wonder why getting out of the hospital and trying to end his life again, suddenly doesn't seem so important anymore.

He also tries to sleep as much as possible during the day to make sure that he's awake during the night to talk to the stranger.

But tonight, the stranger doesn't seem to want to talk. Ianto wakes up to find him in the chair next to his bed, but it takes him a while to speak.

"Do you know why I saved you? Why I just didn't let you go?"

Ianto didn't answer. He was sure the stranger wasn't expecting an answer anyway.

"I had a colleague. Her name was Suzie. Suzie Costello. She killed herself that day."

Ianto moves his head slightly to the side in order to see the stranger a little better. "Why?"

The man doesn't answer at first and Ianto almost regrets asking. "She felt trapped. She'd done something, something bad and she was feeling guilty. She felt as if she wasn't good enough. And I didn't see it."

Ianto nods, almost to himself. He recognizes the hopelessness the stranger talked about. However, he also knows not to speak right now. It's the stranger's turn to talk.

"I went to clean out her house today. Put her books in boxes. Removed all her personal items. And then I realized I'd never really known her. I mean, I'd worked with her for years, but I guess I had just never asked her what she liked or disliked, what kind of books she loved or what sort of movies she hated." The stranger's hands clench into fists. "And I feel so damn guilty about that."

Ianto reaches out with his right hand and takes one of the stranger's fists into it. "I'm sorry."

The stranger smiles wryly at the reversal of their roles and echoes Ianto's words of the night before. "Me too."

They talk. About guilt and about blame. The stranger tells Ianto that he should have paid more attention, but that he sometimes overlooks people and assumes they are fine when they're not. Ianto confides that he was supposed to pick Lisa up that night, but that he'd called her and asked her if she'd mind walking home while he made their dinner. She'd said it was a good idea back then, but Ianto couldn't help wondering what would have happened if he'd just gone to fetch her.

They talk for a long time, until Ianto eventually starts yawning and the stranger declares that it's time for him to leave. He moves as if to kiss Ianto's forehead, but Ianto leans back and their lips meet instead. When they break apart, there's a look in the blue eyes that Ianto can't quite identify. The stranger turns on his heel and leaves without another word, his long coat billowing behind him. Ianto rests his head back on the pillow and closes his eyes, trying to ignore the inner turmoil of his emotions.

"I shouldn't have kissed you."

Ianto opens his eyes and is greeted by the familiar sight of the stranger looming over his bed.

"You're grieving and I'm getting too close. I'm going now. Good luck."

"No!" Ianto's cry seems to echo in the silent hospital and for a moment, both of them freeze and listen. When they hear no rapid footsteps or alarmed doctors, Ianto continues: "No, please. Don't leave. I wanted it to happen."

The stranger hesitates and then turns back to the bed. "Why?"

Ianto averts his eyes. "Because I like you. I don't want to, because it's wrong, but I do. I look forward to the nights and to talking to you. I want to tell you about her. About Lisa."

The stranger sighs. He's already almost at the door, but looks back and meets Ianto's eyes. For at least a minute, neither of them move. Ianto feels as if he's being tested. Then the man seems to make up his mind. "Okay. I'll stay." He walks back to the bed looks around helplessly for a moment.

"One of the nurses took the chair away," Ianto explains when he realizes what the other man is looking for. "Because I don't get any visitors." They both smiled at that. "Could you help me to sit up?"

The stranger eyes him suspiciously for a moment. "You're ready for that?"

"I've been sitting up all day. My ribs are getting better and I haven't thrown up in two days," Ianto convinces him. The stranger still looks hesitant, but moves to help him and raises the head of the bed. When he's sitting up, Ianto struggles to inch to one side of the bed.

"What are you doing? Aren't you comfortable?" Warm hands on his body try to stop him from moving.

Ianto shakes his head and continues trying to move away from the man. "The chair is gone. You have to sit somewhere."

"Mr Jones, are you suggesting I join you in the bed?" A playful smile appears on the stranger's face.

Ianto laughs for the first time in days. For the first time in months, actually. He likes this other side of the stranger, a more playful and less serious side. "That's exactly what I'm doing, sir."

The stranger joins him, very careful not to hurt Ianto and asking him repeatedly whether he's still comfortable. When Ianto assures him that he is and the other man is finally seated next to him, the stranger tells him: "Talk to me about Lisa. Tell me what she liked and what she didn't. Tell me why loved her."

And Ianto obeys. It somehow feels cleansing to talk about her. As if by every word, the grief he's been carrying with him is removed just a tiny bit. He keeps it light, remembering the happy times and the stranger joins in by telling Ianto about his colleagues. He mentions a doctor, a former policewoman and a technician, but not their names. That's okay. Ianto's accepted that.

At some point during the night, Ianto leans against the stranger's shoulder and the stranger lets him. When he's about to fall asleep, he hears the older man's soft voice telling him: "It was not your fault, Ianto."

For just a second, he actually believes it.

"So for every question you ask me, I get to ask one back?" Ianto repeats and the stranger next to him in the bed nods. "And you'll actually answer them?"

"Yes," the stranger tells him. "At least, I'll try. I can't tell you everything."

"Okay," Ianto nods, before smirking. "That'll be my first question. Why not?"

The stranger weighs his options for a moment before he decides. "I work for a secret organization. I'm the leader of it, actually. That's why I can't tell you too much about myself."

Ianto looks at him for a moment, taking in the stranger's military coat and demeanor. If anyone else had told him this, he wouldn't have believed it. But somehow, this stranger has his trust. He had him from the moment Ianto saw his eyes outside his car window.

"My turn," The stranger grins that playful grin Ianto has come to love over the past night. "What do you do for a living?"

"I work in a library. Started there when I was studying English at Cardiff University. When I got my degree, they hired me full-time. I'm in charge of the collection and I have to make sure everything's in order." He shrugs depreciatingly. "It's not a dream job, but I like it."

The stranger nods encouragingly. "That's all that matters, in the end. I love libraries. Haven't been to one in a long time. Partly because my job takes up a lot of hours and partly because Crime and Punishment has been laying underneath my bed for about a decade and I think the fine will just about clean out my bank account."

Ianto chuckles. "I may have to report you for that, you know. Alright, my question. What's your age?"

"Well, how old do I look?" The stranger asks playfully, wriggling his eyebrows at the younger man.

"No, you're not getting away with that," Ianto chides. "It's my turn to ask a question. Come on, how old are you?"

The other man sighs. "I'm afraid that's not something I can answer, Ianto."

Ianto looks confused for a moment. "Why? How can that have something to do with your job?"

"It's complicated."

"You can't be over forty."

The stranger's expression seems pained. "Ianto, please. Ask me something else."

Ianto remains silent for a bit, wondering whether it would help to press. Eventually, he decides to let the stranger keep his secrets. "Okay. Why do you visit me every night? Don't you have someone at home that you should be with?"

"That's two questions," the stranger points out with a smile. "But I'll answer. I came to you on the first night, because I wanted answers. And I wanted to be sure you wouldn't try this again. I came the second night, because I wanted to help you. And the third night, because you helped me. I like you. And no, I don't have anyone at home. Don't have a home, to be perfectly honest. I practically live at my job."

"I like you too," Ianto says softly. "And I'm glad you come here." The stranger just smiles.

They end up talking about their families. The stranger doesn't have any parents, nor does Ianto. The older man does have a brother though, and Ianto finds himself speaking about his sister, Rhiannon, and about how he hasn't seen her in months. They discuss their favourite books and movies. Ianto confesses that he was once caught shoplifting and the stranger admits to having failed his driving test five times before deciding it was easier to bribe the examiner.

At one point during the evening, Ianto turns to the man next to him and asks: "Have you ever wanted to die?"

The answer surprises him. "I have," the stranger says almost immediately and rather solemnly. "Many times."

"Why did you decide to keep living?"

The reply comes after a minute. "Because every time I am on the verge of dying, I always realize that there is something I'd miss if I were gone. They are always simple things. A friend, a good book I haven't quite finished or a question I don't yet know the answer to. A nice boy in a hospital bed." He grins as Ianto blushes. "But as long as I have something to miss, life is worth living. At least, that's always been my philosophy."

"I like it," Ianto replies softly. "It's a good philosophy."

"Do you still want to die, Ianto Jones?"

The silence that follows is deafening. The stranger simply waits. In the end, Ianto answers in merely a whisper, barely audible even in the sleeping hospital. "I don't know."

The stranger nods curtly, before moving the conversation into a lighter area. Soon, they are laughing again and sharing anecdotes. Another hour passes in a flash.

"Alright, you get one last question," the stranger eventually tells Ianto firmly. "Then you have to go back to sleep. You look tired and I want you to get better."

Ianto rolls his eyes good-naturedly. "Okay." He hesitates, then says: "What's your name?" He clarifies as soon as he sees the stranger shake his head: "Just your first name. That won't tell me anything. It'll only give me something to call you."

The stranger debates it with himself. "That's true enough. It's Jack. My name is Jack."

"Jack," Ianto repeats, almost as if he's tasting the name. "Jack. I like it. It suits you."

"I really have to go now," Jack says regretfully. He looks at Ianto and leans towards him, carefully, giving the younger man every opportunity to pull away. But Ianto doesn't and a second later, their lips meet. Ianto deepens the kiss and makes it last. He gasps for breath as they break apart, ignoring the twinge in his ribs. One of Jack's hands is in his hair and he doesn't want it to go away.

When Ianto wakes up, it's three o'clock at night. He checks his watch again, which is on his right arm, due to the fact that his left is still in a cast. Three o'clock. That's late. The stranger – Jack, he correct himself, has never been this late.

He fights the urge to go back to sleep. He hasn't been sleeping as much during the day, because the doctors were wondering whether he had trouble sleeping during the night or was still suffering from his concussion. The last few days had been going well. He was sitting up and was able to feed himself now. Today, he had been allowed out of his bed for the first time, for just a couple of steps. They were pleased with his progress and there had even been talk about him going home in a few days.

He'd been excited about that. He'd looked forward to telling Jack about it, but it looked like Jack wasn't going to come tonight. Ianto draws the blankets up. It was cold without the other man by his side.

He stares up at the ceiling and realizes he hasn't felt this lonely since the accident.

Ianto blinks in an effort to keep his eyes open. He glances at his watch. Almost two o'clock. Jack could still be coming. Ianto had refused to go to sleep this evening and had instead decided to wait. Almost as if he'd planned it that way, the door opened softly and Jack steps in. Ianto waits until he's next to the bed.

"Where were you?" He can't help making the question sound slightly accusatory.

"This can't continue," Jack speaks, unable to meet Ianto's eyes. "I work for a secret organization. I can't tell you anything about myself. You shouldn't even know that I exist."

Ianto feels tears starting to prickle behind his eyes as the surprise at Jack's words wears off and their meaning sinks in. "Why now? You said this before, but then you came back!"

"Because I've realized something," Jack's voice suddenly becomes harsh. "And it can't be like that."

"Like what? What is it?"

"I'm falling in love with you," Jack snaps. "And that was never supposed to happen. You still love Lisa and you're still grieving for her. And yes, of course you need to move on, and of course she would want that, but you shouldn't move on to me." His voice softens as he sees Ianto's tears. He sits down on the bed, but not directly next to Ianto. Instead, he faces him and places a hand on his cheek. "It's too complicated, Yan. I don't just work for a secret organization. I work for a secret organization that catches aliens. And I know that sounds incredible. I know you're not going to believe me. Do you remember I wouldn't tell you my age?" Ianto nods through his tears. "That's because I can't die. Something happened to me a while back and now, every time I die, I get dragged back into life. I'm wrong, Ianto. I'm wrong and I'm the last thing you need."

"I understand," Ianto sounds defeated and Jack winces. "I understand."

Jack nods. He moves forward and for a moment, Ianto believes they'll kiss a final time. Then Jack draws away and walks towards the door.

Ianto throws the blankets off and hisses in pain as he gets up from the bed. Jack turns to see him standing there, his bare feet on the cold floor, wearing the hospital gown that is a too big for his slight frame. "I understand that you're wrong, Jack. But I'm wrong too. And I think that's why I need you." When Jack doesn't respond, he continues, bitter: "They're releasing me tomorrow morning. I'll be going back to my apartment and I'll try again. This time, I'll succeed. There's clearly nothing left to miss for me."

Jack looks back at Ianto, standing pitifully next to his bed. It breaks his heart to open the door and walk away, but he does it anyway.

Ianto closes the door to his apartment behind him, stepping over the large pile of mail that is laying on his doormat. The boxes are still there. As are the photos of Lisa. Ianto approaches them and stares at the happy memories. When he first realized his feeling for Jack during the other man's nightly visits, he'd felt guilty towards Lisa. Now, however, looking at the pictures, he knows that she would never have blamed him. She always wanted him to be happy.

Ianto feels in his pocket and extracts a bottle of painkillers the doctors had given him. He gets a glass of water from the kitchen and sets on the table, next to the bottle. Sitting down on the couch, he stares at the objects. Eventually, he takes the lid of the bottle and shakes five pills into his hand, estimating that that is probably all he can get down in one swallow. He reckons he'll need to down the whole bottle to make it work this time.

He looks at the little white pills. It doesn't feel like it did when he'd been in the car. Back then, he'd felt calm and at peace. As if it had been the correct thing to do. Right now, he can only think about Jack. Suddenly, he makes up his mind and throws the pills across the room.

"I'm not doing it," he tells the silence. "I am not doing it."

"I'm glad."

Ianto's head snaps up to see Jack standing in his living room. Without thinking or even wondering how the other man got there, he gets up and crosses the few feet between him and his stranger. Jack opens his arms and presses him gently to his chest. "How did you find me?" Ianto's muffled voice asks.

"Secret organization, remember?" Jack answers softly, stroking the back of Ianto's head with his hand and pressing his cheek against the soft, dark hair. "Ianto, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have left yesterday."

"You came back."

"And I'm staying. If you want me to, of course."

"I want you to. I missed you."

Jack just holds him closer. Ianto couldn't say how long they stood there, in his living room, simply holding each other. Eventually, they put the painkillers in the medicine cabinet and unpacked all the boxes. The apartment was no longer empty and for the first time in months, it was no longer cold and lonely inside. It was strange how quickly he got used to Jack's presence in his home.

His whole life, Ianto Jones had been taught that two wrongs could never make a right. Captain Jack Harkness had, over the years, learned much the same thing. As he lay in Jack's arms that night, however, Ianto realized he had to reconsider what he had been taught. Just occasionally, two wrongs together were so very right.

The End

That was my first AU story. Don't know if it worked. Please tell me if it didn't. And actually, please tell me if it does as well, :P.