Ianto had been deeply troubled by the case, Jack knew.  What he didn’t know was why, and for someone as incorrigibly nosy as Jack that was pretty unbearable, but the sustained melancholy that seemed to enshroud Ianto made Jack hesitate to ask searching questions, wary of exacerbating what was clearly an already very difficult situation.

There came a point – forty-eight hours after the boy at the hospital had been saved but Ianto had appeared quite lost – when Jack had to make a move, seeing Ianto standing by the coffee machine, looking completely absent as his mind drifted…who knows where?  Jack was determined to find out the truth, because he wanted to know, and to help, and he wanted his Ianto rather than this distant soul.

If Ianto was aware he’d been corralled into Jack’s office he didn’t acknowledge it, he just faked a smile and tried his best to look alert and interested.  If it had been within Jack’s power to be clever and subtle he would have taken that route but, under the circumstances, anxiety made him positively blunt.

“Ianto, what’s wrong with you?”

It wasn’t delivered unkindly, but the question made Ianto look as if he’d been smacked in the face.

“Wrong with me?” he asked stiltedly.

“This whole case with the Night Travellers…”

“It’s over.”

“I know, but it’s left you…affected.”

“We lost all of those people, how am I supposed to be?”

“I don’t want sound callous, but we lose people all the time and it doesn’t affect you like this.”

“Are you implying I usually don’t care?”

Jack drew breath to reply but caught it and held back.  A long, calming exhalation, and he moved closer to Ianto, whose whole frame visibly tightened.

“You always care,” Jack acknowledged as he took Ianto’s hands and ran his thumbs over the knuckles.  “But there’s also objectivity, there has to be, we all have that to stop us despairing to the point of standstill.  This time…you seem to have lost your objectivity.  I’m worried about you.  Professionally.  Personally.”

Ianto relaxed a little at that final admission, and he gave a shaky nod.

“It’s been difficult,” he said, so quietly that Jack had to strain to hear.

“Want to talk about it?”

“No.”

That no seemed so sincere that Jack found it impossible to press for more information.  Instead he wrapped his arms around Ianto and offered a little less intrusive comfort, although there was no indication that Ianto was able to accept it.

Owen came to the office, file in hand and a question on his lips which died the moment he walked in on the pair.

“All right?” he asked Jack softly, looking very pointedly at Ianto.

“Yeah,” Jack replied in the same tone.

Owen backed out, waving the file at Jack and gesturing toward the autopsy room.

“When you’re ready.”

Jack’s nod sent him away; the fact that Ianto hadn’t shown any sign of noticing the doctor’s presence was troubling, as was his reluctance to allow Jack to leave.

“I’ll just see what Owen wants and then…”

“Doesn’t matter,” Ianto smiled, back to faking.

“It matters,” Jack stressed.  “Wait for me here.”

Jack got as far as the door.

“Jack…  Would you mind if I left early?  I’m quite tired, I…”

“Go now.”

“I didn’t mean…”

“I do.  Go now, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“You don’t need to bother, I’ll be going to bed and…”

“I’ll be there.”

Ianto was evidently torn between being extremely happy at Jack’s insistence, and highly worried for the very same reason.  Without another word, he turned and left.

Sauntering out of his office, Jack watched him go; Owen was at his shoulder within seconds.

“Not right, is he,” Owen murmured, as much to himself as Jack.

“What was it about this case?  What have I missed?”

“He was fine at the pictures.  Well, until the weird set in.  Talking about his dad and how they used to—  Think that could be it?  Missing his dad?”

“Renewed mourning?  I like to think he’d tell me if it was that.”

They paused for a few minutes in thought.

“You’ve sent him home?”

“He asked to leave.”

Owen’s eyebrows shot up and at that wholly untypical behaviour from Ianto.

“You’ll be seeing him later?”

“Yes, as soon as we’re done here.”

“I’ll give you something for him, bit of a chemical cushion.  I’m not saying he’ll need it, but…”

Jack nodded distractedly, requiring several prompts from Owen to shake off the discomfort of the situation before facing the remains of the alien in the autopsy room.

…

Ianto’s house was dark when Jack arrived; he entered quietly and stood, listening, inside the front door before shucking his coat and throwing it over the newel post at the foot of the stairs.

He moved stealthily up to the landing and crept inside the main bedroom, not wanting to disturb Ianto but experiencing a deep desire to see him.

“Jack?”

“Did I wake you?”

“Not really, I was only dozing.”  The bedside lamp snapped on, Ianto squinting in the sudden light.  “Join me?”

That was all the invitation Jack needed; he hastily stripped down and climbed into bed alongside his partner.  Ianto bodily welcomed him, dragging him close and kissing him hard.

“Can we talk first?” Jack asked, hoping to pry some information out of Ianto by withholding what he so obviously wanted.

“No.”

“Ianto…”

“If you care for me at all, you’ll want me to feel better.”

With a troubled frown, Jack gazed into Ianto’s eyes to be met with nothing more than defiance.

“I do care.”

“Then make me feel better,” Ianto told him, simply and curtly.

Jack did as he was asked.

…

The sex was rough and unforgiving, exactly as Ianto demanded, and afterwards he slept for a while, as far away from Jack as he could be without falling off the edge of the mattress.

When he stirred, a little after midnight, Jack lured him back to the centre of the bed and pinned him down to be kissed.  Fifteen minutes in, it was as if something in Ianto gave, like a piece of elastic stretched to breaking point being abruptly released.  The distance he’d managed to create despite being so close to Jack evaporated and he brushed off more kisses in favour of being held and taking consolation for…something; Jack was determined to find out what.

“Talk to me,” Jack urged.

“What’s the point?”

“Maybe I can help.”

“It’s not that kind of problem, there’s nothing you can do.”

“I can listen.”

It took Ianto a while to respond, and when he did he rolled away from Jack, onto his back, staring at nothing as he thought and thought.  Jack waited.

“I was going to be a father once,” Ianto eventually said, feeling Jack’s start of surprise and giving a brief smile.  “It wasn’t anything I’d particularly wanted, but…condoms break.  I was too young, and knew nothing about life, but I was going to be a father; a duty rather than an option.”  Jack was, for once, speechless.  “I hadn’t thought about it for a while,” Ianto continued, “not until…  Well, you know.”

“The boy at the hospital?”

Ianto nodded.

“It took me a couple of months to come to terms with what was happening, but I got to like the idea, however terrifying it was.  And I mean terrifying.  The responsibility of making the right decisions for someone else, the chance you’ll ruin their life if you get it wrong…  Even now I couldn’t cope easily, so—  Oh, fuck, especially now.  Knowing what we know, could you imagine having to protect that innocence from all the monstrous things this world and beyond has to offer?  Daunting.  More.  Overwhelming.”

“Yes,” Jack nodded; he felt that exact way about the people who worked for him, and they could look after themselves.

“That boy…”

“He’s already with family, he’s surrounded by love and support, he’ll learn to cope with what he’s lost.  Kids are so resilient.”

“We can’t protect them, can we?  Not really.”

“We do our best.”

Jack waited for Ianto to carry on.  Ianto didn’t.  It made Jack uncomfortable to push, but he had to know.

“So…?”

“So…  Obviously it didn’t happen.”  Ianto swallowed back a tearful laugh.  “Daft as it sounds, I’d already chosen the first films I wanted to share, films that I’d shared with my father, harmless silly things to connect over.  I bought a toy, a little yellow rabbit.  Ridiculous, but I felt ten feet tall.  One moment it was a huge something, and then…  Then, it was nothing.”

“I’m so sorry,” Jack told Ianto sincerely, thoroughly ashamed of his relief that Ianto didn’t have those kind of ties.

“No choice.  Just…nothing.”  Ianto paused in thought.  “I never let myself mourn.  I think I’m paying for that now.”

“Did the mother…” Jack couldn’t finished the sentence, knowing how indelicate it sounded, how indelicate it was going by the way Ianto flinched.

“Not her choice, not mine, neither of us.”

“Then…”

“Don’t be dense, Jack.” 

Ianto moved back in, throwing an arm and leg over Jack and, although he remained tense, huddling close.  Jack welcomed him, but the usually comforting hug felt stiff with anticipation.

“Why dense?” Jack had to ask.

Inhaling deeply, Ianto shakily, painfully released the breath.

“Ever seen a pregnant Cyberman?”