Disclaimers: I do not own Torchwood or any of its characters.  I am making no money from this.  It is purely for entertainment
purposes only.

Summary: Ianto has a secret.  Set during series one, after Cyberwoman.

Warnings:  MPREG!!  I am a HUGE fan of Mpreg.  There are also hints of past child abuse.

Notes: Please remember that I am just another stupid American.  Please forgive any spelling or grammatical errors as I must
rely solely on my own knowledge and my irritating spell-checker.

More Notes:  Still set after 'Random Shoes,' but right before 'Out of Time.'



Expectations



Part Twenty-Eight



Ianto awoke with a throbbing behind his eyes.  It seemed to spread out from behind the bridge of his nose and send sharp
barbed spikes deep into his brain.  If he touched the top of his head, he wouldn't be surprised to find it had split open at some
time in the night.  However, despite the pain, the sight that met his eyes when he opened them, brought a brief stutter to his heart.

Jack.  He was lying in Jack's arms, surrounded by his warmth.  During the night, they'd shifted and Ianto was pressed more
closely to Jack, their legs tangled together.  One of Jack's hands was draped over him, a heavy hand pressed firmly to his back.  
His other arm had circled Ianto from beneath, curling up around his back until the hand was settled on his hip.  The Captain's
face was turned toward him, eyes closed in slumber.

Ianto lifted his head, blinking slowly at Jack's handsome face.  He was surprised to find that Jack had stayed.  He'd actually
stayed the night.  He had thought that Jack would leave as soon as he'd fallen asleep.  Let's face it, he wasn't terribly entertaining
at the moment.

Raising his hand took far more effort than he was used to.  His limbs felt so heavy, weighted down and sluggish.  At least the
headache was waning.  Though not quickly enough for Ianto's liking.

He brought his hand up to Jack's chest, inadvertently brushing against a nipple as he settled his palm against the warm skin.  He
could feel Jack's heart, the rhythmic pulsing beat of it.  Ianto felt calmed by it.  He settled his head against Jack's shoulder again,
content to remain just where he was, wanting this moment to last as long as possible.

"You okay?" Jack's voice rumbled, his arms tightening around him a fraction in a brief hug.

"Never better," he mumbled into Jack's shoulder.

Lips pressed against Ianto's hair and he smiled to himself.  Ianto would never admit it, but he adored all of those affectionate
touches, each delicate brush of lips, or tender caress, the little things that Jack did to show he cared.

Ianto was comfortable.  He was happy to stay where he was, wrapped up in Jack's arms.  He could easily have spent hours
there, basking in the warmth of Jack's presence.  However, he became aware of an uncomfortable and familiar pressure that
needed to be taken care of.

He scrunched up his nose.  "I have to pee," he grumbled, not moving an inch.

Jack's hand slid up along his spine, then down again.  "Do you need help?  Or can you handle it on your own?"

Normally, Ianto would have been irritated by the offer.  He didn't like feeling useless.  But he was simply too tired now to care.  
Even so, it was with a great deal of reluctance that he admitted it.  "I could use a hand getting to the bathroom, I suppose."  
Considering his options were limited to getting help to walk the distance to the bathroom or using a bedpan, he much preferred
the idea of accepting Jack's assistance.

When he didn't make a move to get up, Jack stroked his back again.  "We won't get very far if we don't get up."

"But I don't want to move," he groused.

"I love it when you pout," Jack chuckled.  He shifted, pulling his arms from around Ianto.

"I do not pout," Ianto replied.  His arms shook as he attempted to push himself up.  He wasn't getting very far.

Jack's arms came around him again, this time guiding him into a sitting position.  "But you are so cute when you pout," Jack
grinned, then leaned in and gave a quick kiss to the tip of his nose.  He backed away before Ianto could raise a weary hand in an
attempt at an indignant swipe.

Ianto managed to swing his legs over the side of the bed while Jack bounced out of bed on the other side.  The exuberant
Captain didn't bother to track down any of his clothes as he came to Ianto's side, standing there beside him in just his pants.

"Wasn't there a trolley here?" Ianto asked, vaguely remembering one from last night.

"Owen came back a couple hours after you fell asleep.  He gave you a quick once-over and took the trolley when he left."  

"Ah."  He couldn't think of anything more intelligent to say.

Jack smiled at him, brushing his fingers across the side of Ianto's head just over his ear.  He threw the blankets back, then
hummed as he looked at the equipment Ianto was still hooked up to.  "You pull the IV and I'll get the oxygen."

Ianto nodded.  With one of Jack's arms around his back, Ianto slid off the bed.  He reached out and grasped the IV hanger,
pulling it along with him as he shuffled to the en-suite.  He was disconcerted by his inability to lift his feet from the floor.  Jack
was patient, moving along with the pace Ianto set, as slow as it was.  He didn't say anything, perhaps knowing that Ianto was in
no mood for conversation at the moment.

When they were standing in front of the toilet, Jack drew his hands away, obviously with the intention of giving Ianto some
privacy.  Ianto felt his knees begin to buckle.  "Jack," he called out in alarm, grabbing at Jack's withdrawing hand to keep it
around himself.  He was mortified.  he couldn't even stand up long enough to do something as simple as use the bathroom.  He
dropped his head and felt tears of frustration collecting in his eyes.  "I can't," he muttered.  "I can't stand on my own."

Warm lips on the back of his neck tried to soothe away his distress, but it didn't diminish much.  "Well, there's two ways we
can do this," Jack said softly.  "I could sit you down and leave you to it, or I help you stay standing."

Neither option appealed to him.  However, at this point in time, nothing frightened him more than the thought of being left alone
in his weakened condition.  What if he couldn't even sit up long enough?  What if he fell over and cracked his head open?  To
end up lying on a bathroom floor bleeding and concussed, was not something he was looking forward to.

Ianto shook his head to clear away the mental images.  "Stay," he whispered, unable to raise his voice.  He clenched his fingers
around Jack's wrist.

Without a word, Jack slid his arm more firmly around Ianto's chest.  He stepped into place behind the Welshman.  Ianto could
feel Jack's cheek pressing against the very top of his back, nestled in against the base of his neck.  He recognized it for what it
was, an effort to give Ianto a hint of privacy, and Ianto appreciated it.

Ianto bowed his head, resigned to the fact that he had to do this.  It was awkward and humiliating.  His hands shook faintly as
he moved his fingers to the waistband of his sleep pants.  He closed his eyes and steadied himself.  He really didn't want his aim
to suffer on account of his nerves.  Jack remained still behind him, a solid force, unmoving and silent.  He could barely even
hear the man's breath.  In fact, Ianto would have thought he was holding it, if not for the faint tickle of warm air brushing
against his shoulder in a slow rhythmic pattern.  Somehow the soft puffs of air against his skin made Ianto feel a fraction better.

When it came down to it, Ianto closed his eyes and just let it go.  It took a bit longer than it normally would.  That was mainly
because he wasn't used to having an audience.

He tucked himself back into his pyjamas and reached out to flush.  As soon as his fingers left the handle, Jack seemed to come
to life behind him; first escorting him over to the sink, then helping him back into bed.  Ianto felt nothing but shame and kept his
lips pressed tightly together for fear of ranting at his own weakness.  As Jack fussed around to make sure his pillows were
fluffed and that all of his tubes were straight, Ianto closed his eyes.

He felt Jack pull the blankets up, covering the rounded expanse of his stomach.  It wasn't until a chaste and all-too-brief kiss
was placed on the corner of his mouth, that he opened his eyes again.

Jack was sitting on the edge of the bed, a soft smile on his face.  He took Ianto's hand in his and just held it.  "Don't be ashamed
of needing help, Ianto," he said.

Ianto looked down and away.  Was he really so easy to read?  "It's not in my nature, I suppose," he replied quietly.  "I've never
liked being taken care of.  Not even by my Mam whenever I was sick."  He smiled faintly.  "It used to drive her mad.  She'd put
me to bed and not fifteen minutes later I was up and about again.  Not playing or anything, but getting a drink or a book or some
other toy to take back to bed with me."  It seemed so long ago now.  His mother had died when he was young.  But he
remembered her.  Her smile, her laugh, the amused irritation in her blue eyes as she found him carefully carrying a glass of juice
back to his room and asking him why he hadn't called and asked her to get it for him.

He didn't realize he was crying until Jack brushed the tears away with his thumbs.  "Want to share?" Jack asked, his tone
coaxing.

Ianto gave a watery smile.  "Just remembering.  My Mam."  He wasn't sad, not really.  Maybe a little.  He settled his hands on
his stomach.  She'd never get to see her grandchild, any of them actually.  She had died long before Rhiannon's two had been
born.  He wished he had more memories of her.

"How old were you when she died?"

"Six," Ianto replied, a bit confused as to why Jack suddenly wanted to know.

"Just a little guy, hm?"  He didn't give Ianto a chance to say anything.  "Have good memories of her?"

"A few," Ianto admitted.  "Jack, why the interest?"

Jack plucked up the memory sphere device from the table by the bed.  "I showed you the holographic display features of this
baby," Jack said, moving around to the other side of the bed and climbing in beside Ianto.

Ianto remembered the alien vista that Jack had shown him.  The vast beach and distant colony of the Boeshane Peninsula.  It had
been beautiful.

"But did I mention the home movie capabilities?" Jack asked.

"What?  No, I don't believe you did."

Jack was grinning, like a child waiting to show off his greatest treasure.  His fingers moved over the milky-white sphere with the
expert precision of someone who knew what they were doing.  "I want you to think of a memory," he said, eyes fixated on the
device.  "The one that had you smiling earlier would be nice."

Ianto nodded, a little dumbstruck.  "All right."  He thought of his mother catching him out of bed when he was supposed to be
resting.

"You got it?" Jack asked.

"Yeah."  Ianto nodded again.

Jack picked up Ianto's hand and placed the sphere in his palm.  "Keep a hold on it."  He pressed a finger against some invisible
sensor and retracted his hand.

To Ianto's amazement, a beam of light shot out of the device.  An image appeared, a rectangular shaped projection hanging in the
air in the middle of the room, as if it were perfectly ordinary for television to play out without any visible screen.

Only, it wasn't television.  Because there was Ianto's mother.  She was smiling and leaning over slightly, her hands on her hips in
mock-annoyance.  Ianto realized it was from his own point of view.  This was a memory, his own memory.  It wasn't a terribly
important memory, but it was one that he treasured simply because she was in it.

"And what do you think you're doing?" his mother asked, the familiar tones of her voice enveloping him in warmth.  "You should
be in bed."

The image shifted, looking down at a glass that was barely being held by a set of tiny fingers.  "I'm thirsty," Ianto's own voice
replied to her, only it was a small voice, the voice he'd had as a child.

"She's beautiful," Jack said, nudging him lightly.

Ianto couldn't help but agree.  "She was."  His eyes followed the projection, fascinated by every second.  This was so much
better than looking at the few photographs he'd managed to save when Tad had decided to rid himself of every reminder of his
recently deceased wife.  He'd been grieving and everything had hurt.  Ianto didn't think his Tad had ever stopped grieving.

"How old are you here?" Jack prompted.

For a moment Ianto wasn't sure.  It had been a long time ago.  He watched as his mother took the glass of juice from his
younger version's small hands; watched her take his hand and lead him back to his bedroom.  "Five," he said as the child was
being tucked back into bed.  "I think.  It's difficult to tell since I can't see myself."  He understood why though, this was a
memory and not a movie.  Everything he saw would be from his own point of view.

They watched for a little while longer as Ianto's mother took a seat on the edge of the bed and gave him his glass of juice.  Ianto
was aware of Jack taking hold of his free hand and gave a squeeze back, even as he continued to watch.

His mother picked up a book and began to read.  The image faded away shortly after that, going into darkness to the soft and
sweet voice of his mother.  He must have fallen asleep while she had been reading.

Ianto blinked away tears.  He turned to Jack and smiled.  "Thank you," he said, meaning it.

Jack leaned forward, folding his hands over the Welshman's shoulders as he kissed his tears away.  The touch of lips was
delicate.  It made Ianto's heart flutter.  When those lips found his own, he opened to them, whimpering in want.  He slid his
tongue toward the teasing brush, hoping to draw more attention.

The Captain didn't disappoint.  Fingers came around Ianto's neck, thumbs on either side of his jaw to hold his head in place as
Jack deepened the kiss.

Ianto placed a hand to Jack's chest, his limb trembling with even that slight effort.  He pulled away, already finding it difficult to
catch his breath.  He smiled a little smile and licked his lips, tasting Jack on his skin.  Although he wanted to continue -
desperately so - he was simply too tired to conjure up the appropriate levels of excitement needed.  Jack wouldn't want someone
who could only lie there.  Surely, he'd want a bit more energy out of his bed partner.

Jack's forehead bumped against his and Ianto looked up from the lips he'd been staring at.  Amusement sparkled in the blue eyes
that met his.  The Captain's hands left his neck, trailing down over his shoulders and along his arms to his elbows in one smooth
caress.

"Don't worry," Jack said, even though Ianto hadn't said anything.  He grazed his thumbs back and forth over his skin.  "I
understand."

Ianto looked away from Jack's face, a flush of embarrassment creeping over him.  He fidgeted under that warm gaze, fingers
sliding over the smooth surface of the memory sphere.  Wanting only to escape the awkwardness he felt, he took one of Jack's
hands and pressed the device into his palm.  "Show me something?" he asked, hopeful and yet unsure if Jack would oblige.  The
man guarded his secrets.  There was little reason for him to trust Ianto with something so precious as one of his own memories.

Jack blinked, a strange perplexed expression on his face.  He drew away from Ianto and plopped down to sit beside him.  "What
would you want to see?" he asked softly.

Following him with his eyes, Ianto watched his face.  He was worried that he was pushing Jack, but he'd already asked.  He
might as well go for it.  "I dunno."  He shrugged, trying to play it off as a casual conversation.  "Something happy.  Something
on an alien world maybe?"  He bit his lip and watched a sly smirk curl the corner of Jack's mouth and added, "Something that
doesn't involve sex."

The smirk widened into a full smile.  He laughed heartily.  "You're really narrowing down the choices, aren't you?"

"Well, can't have you getting too excited, can we?" Ianto returned the smile.  "I'm not well enough to be ravished."

Tucking fingers under Ianto's chin, Jack pulled him into another gentle kiss.  "I don't have to ravish," he murmured, then bit
playfully at Ianto's lower lip.  "I can be gentle."

Ianto could easily fall under Jack's distracting spell.  But, he leaned back into his pillows, effectively escaping the temptation of
those far-too-talented lips.  "Please, Jack?"  He dropped his hand over the one Jack was using to hold the sphere.  "Just one?  I
won't ask again."

The look on Jack's face was indecipherable.  He wondered again if he was making a mistake in asking for this.  But Jack shook
his head and smiled softly, fingers moving deftly over the sphere again.

"Just one," he agreed.

When the projection started, Ianto paid rapt attention.  He had no idea what to expect.

He was hardly surprised when the memory began in a bed.  However, it was quickly apparent that the fact that he was in bed
was purely an innocent coincidence.  The figure - Jack - was laying back in bed, his legs crossed at the ankles.  The body that
Ianto could see was slimmer, from some point in Jack's youth.  At least, younger than he was now at any rate.

What Ianto could see of the room, it was expansive.  It was a bedroom, obviously.  The walls were bare and looked to be made
of metal.  It seemed impersonal and cold and so unlike Jack.  When the figure turned his attention to one side, Ianto discovered a
reason for this.

One entire wall of this place was taken up by an extensive set of windows.  The only thing that could be seen outside of them
was a vast expanse of space.  Stars, as far as the eye could see.  No land, no sea, nothing but the universe in view.  It was so
beautiful.

Ianto gaped at it, then blinked over at Jack.

"I was traveling," he said, shrugging.  He gave no further information than that.

A strange voice lured Ianto's attention back to the memory playing back in front of him.  The voice was of a low pitch, male, the
words lyrical and foreign to Ianto's ears.  Jack's familiar voice spoke back to the unseen speaker, but the language was just as
unfamiliar.

"Sorry, no translation abilities," Jack said in his ear, explaining it.

Ianto nodded and continued to watch.

The image jolted forward suddenly, as if Jack had scrambled to his feet.  Ianto was concerned briefly.  But then he saw the child
and his heart jolted in realization of what this was.

This was a memory of Jack with his daughter.  She was a tiny thing, with dark hair and a wide, innocent smile.  She couldn't be
more than a year old, if that at all.  A pale rose-colored one-piece garment was all she wore.  She was standing on chubby little
legs, holding herself up by use of a low metal table.  There was a man standing beside her, but Ianto was too focused on the
child to notice him.

The perspective dropped low.  Jack must have been kneeling.  His hands flashed out in front of him, reaching for the child, a
flow of more of that lyrical language drifting out.

The child turned and saw him and her expression lit up in pure delight.  She babbled something unintelligible and let go of the
table to take a wobbly step toward Jack.

Ianto's heart was in his throat as he began to imagine himself in this exact same moment, watching his child take what was
obviously their first steps.  He was moved.

He watched the little girl toddle closer, her babbles mixing in with the words the past version of Jack kept saying, encouraging
words, no doubt.  She stumbled a few times, landing on her rump once.  She wasn't deterred.  She just got up again, grabbing
some random toy from the floor at one point and holding it out as if she was bringing it to him.

When she was in reach, Jack's hands swept her up.  Childish shrieks of delight and Jack's booming laugh echoed loudly.

The image cut off abruptly.  Ianto felt his heart clench at the sudden loss.  He turned to face the older man, all sorts of questions
waiting to burst out.

Jack was staring down at the device in his hands, smoothing his fingers over it.  He took a deep breath, a frail smile on his face.  
He didn't look up, keeping his focus down on the sphere.  "I do miss her sometimes."  He shrugged.  "But I had to leave."  That
frail smile turned tragic.  "She's better off where she is.  Her father is a good man."

Ianto sidled closer, heart aching on behalf of the other man.  He turned, draping himself over Jack's chest.  "So are you," he
said, snuggling in against Jack's body.

Jack wrapped an arm around him to pull him closer still and kissed the top of his head.  "Flatterer," he said and Ianto could hear
the grin in his voice.

There was a knock on the door.  Ianto jerked at the sharp, unexpected sound.  He tried to pull back and roll away, but couldn't
summon the strength.  Jack helped him and kissed his cheek as he slid off the bed to track down his clothes.

Jack slipped into his trousers and pulled his white undershirt on over his head.  There was another series of knocks as Jack got
back onto the bed and settled in next to Ianto again.

"Come in," Ianto called.

The door opened and Gwen walked in, smiling brightly.  Once again, his visitor tugged along a trolley with them.  If he wasn't
careful, he'd get used to being served in bed.

"I have breakfast," she said cheerfully.

Jack sounded delighted.  "Breakfast sounds great!  What's on the menu?"

Gwen's smile didn't falter in the slightest.  "Nothing too fancy, just a couple of scrambled eggs with toast.  Add to that a glass of
lovely orange juice, and you have the breakfast of champions."

Ianto fought the urge to pout.  "I don't suppose there's any chance of me getting a coffee."

Gwen gave him a look full of understanding.  "Give yourself a couple of days, love.  We'll see what Owen says after you've
gotten used to eating normally again."

Ianto couldn't really argue with that, but it didn't mean he had to like it.  He settled his hands over his stomach, having nowhere
else to put them and mourned the absence of coffee.

Jack sat forward.  "So, what have the rest of you been up to?"

Rolling the trolley closer to the bed, Gwen answered.  "The guards are locked up in the cells, waiting for whatever we're going
to be doing with them.  Tosh and Owen are out at the warehouse doing clean-up, and I'm here to keep Ianto company if he
wants it, while you go and do your standard boss-type duties.  You know, pushing papers around your desk and not signing
them, flogging the inmates, flirting with the constabulary."

"Miss Cooper, I do not flog the inmates," Jack said defensively, but with a smile.

"Oh, but you don't deny the rest, eh?" Ianto asked.

"Ganging up on me now, are you?" Jack gasped dramatically, placing his hand over his heart.  "Oh, I am hurt.  I can see where
I'm not wanted."

Gwen turned to get the plate.  When her back was turned, Ianto reached out, sliding his hand down along the captain's arm,
taking hold of his hand.  He looked at Jack, biting his lip worriedly.  He was concerned that maybe he had pushed Jack too far in
asking to see his memory, if maybe he had hurt the other man somehow.

Jack smiled, squeezing Ianto's hand in reassurance.  He leaned forward and placed a quick kiss on Ianto's cheek, before drawing
away and sliding off of the bed.  By the time Gwen turned around, he was already slipping into his boots, not bothering to put
his socks on.

The Captain headed for the door, picking up the rest of his clothes along the way and bundling them up in his arms.  With a
wink, he left the room.  "Don't do anything I wouldn't do, kids."

"I don't think there is anything you wouldn't do," Gwen called out.

They heard Jack's laugh through the door.

Gwen held out the plate.  Ianto took it, holding it with both hands, but it was still too heavy.  Gwen caught it and took it from
him, smiling faintly.  "I'll hold the plate and you just worry about eating," she said, offering him the fork.  "Deal?"

He felt relieved and nodded.  He'd been worried that she would try to feed him, like Jack had done last night.  He vaguely
remembered her doing that for him when they'd been locked up together.  However, he also hadn't truly been aware of his
surroundings then either.

He ate slowly, finding it annoying how his hand trembled.  Ianto didn't like this, feeling so weak and tired.  He wanted to be
better now.  But he knew that wasn't about to happen.  It would take time to recover.

Things were quiet while he ate.  Gwen didn't try to strike up a conversation.  She just held the plate as he scooped up bits of egg
and nibbled on the edges of his toast.  In the end, he wasn't able to eat much; a slice of the toast and some of the eggs.  It was
better than nothing.

Gwen took the plate from him and handed him the glass of juice.  Ianto held it with both hands, not wanting to spill any.  That
would be far too embarrassing.  He sipped at it slowly.

She smiled at him, inclining her head toward the empty space in bed beside him.  "May I?"

"Of course," Ianto answered, leaning over to carefully place the glass on the table beside the bed.

Without pause, Gwen scurried around to the other side of the bed.  She toed off her shoes before climbing in and settling down
beside Ianto.  "Tosh is going to handle lunch," she said.  "But when I told Rhys that you'd taken ill - don't worry, he still thinks
it's a non-alien involved health issue - he insisted on dinner.  How do you feel about pork tenderloin in orange sauce?  I think he
mentioned a potato mash.  Maybe some steamed vegetables."

"Officer Cooper, are you trying to fatten me up?"

Gwen giggled.  "You could do with a little meat on your bones," she replied, lightly pinching his arm.  She sighed, smoothing her
fingers over the faint red mark.  "Seriously though, how are you?"

He closed his eyes and leaned back against the pillows.  "Tired.  But infinitely better than I was in that cell."  He felt fingers in his
hair, a light touch scratching behind his ear.  He hummed appreciatively.

"I was worried and you," Gwen said.  "You were so sick and pale.  Owen told us you'd be okay, but I wanted to see for
myself.  It's good to see some color back in your cheeks."  She moved closer, her arms going around his arm in an almost-hug.

Ianto opened his eyes and offered a smile which was returned with a wide, gap-toothed grin from the former PC.  "Thank you.  
For taking care of me."

Pale pink dusted Gwen's cheeks.  "Oh, don't thank me.  I'd do anything for you, and that baby.  Sometimes it seems like all we
see is death in this job.  A little bit of life now and again makes it all worthwhile."

She inclined her head with a questioning look in her eyes.  He knew what she wanted immediately.  And for once, Ianto decided
it would be okay.  Just this once.  He nodded.

Slowly, she lifted her hand.  She settled her palm against the bulge of Ianto's stomach, barely grazing against him.  "I won't
break," he almost laughed, surprised by her reticence.

With an embarrassed chuckle, she flattened her palm against him.  "This is so amazing," Gwen whispered, running her hand in
circles over the bump.  She looked up at him, eyes glittering in delight.  "YOU are amazing, Ianto."

Ianto shrugged dismissively.  He wasn't anything special.  "He's my son, Gwen.  He deserves a chance to live."

"Like I said," Gwen replied.  "Amazing."

Ianto looked away, not really sure what to say.  He wasn't used to being praised.  He stayed quiet, allowing Gwen to caress his
stomach, laughing when she jumped the first time the baby kicked while she was touching him.

Suddenly, Gwen jumped.  "Oh," she called, reaching behind to her back pocket.  "I've got your mobile.  Tosh had a look at it, to
see if we could find Mrs. Koladka.  She used it a few times.  But whoever she is, she's good."

He took the device from her and flipped it open.  "Twenty-three missed calls," he murmured.  All were from his sister.  Ever
since Gwen had mistakenly called Rhiannon to ask about his whereabouts after that horrible trip to the Brecon Beacons, his sister
had insisted on daily phone calls.  He'd been gone for over two days.  She must be worried sick.  He'd have to call her.  But he
couldn't bring himself to do it while Gwen was there.

He set the mobile aside.  "How about a movie?" he offered, grabbing the remote.

"Alright," she agreed and settled herself more comfortably against his side, one arm wrapped around his arm and the other
casually set on his stomach.


*****


When Jack came back to Ianto's room a couple hours after he'd left it, he was surprised by what he found.  Gwen had gotten
into bed with the pregnant man and was currently plastered along one side of his body.  Both of them were fast asleep.  The telly
was on, tuned to some news channel that was detailing the weather for the week.

Jack walked over to the bed and picked up the remote from Ianto's slack fingers.  He casually flicked off the screen.  He stood
and watched them for a few minutes, a faint smile on his face.  It was actually an adorable sight, he decided.

When he'd had his fill of the saccharine sight, he cleared his throat.  "Miss Cooper, I am shocked," he announced.  "I thought I
could trust you with taking care of our gorgeous Welshman and here I find you've ravished him into exhaustion."

Gwen jerked awake.  She blinked, then rubbed her eyes and yawned.  With a smile, she replied, "Sorry, Jack.  Couldn't help
myself.  He was irresistible."

"Some of us are trying to sleep," Ianto grumbled.

Jack rubbed a hand along one of Ianto's arms.  "Tosh is on her way back with lunch.  Gwen, after you eat, I want you to go
back out to the warehouse with Owen.  They were almost finished, so you should be done in a couple hours."

"Right."  Gwen sighed and shoved herself up and out of bed.  She put on her shoes and headed for the door.  "See you for
dinner, Ianto."

Ianto replied with a casual goodbye, then turned his attention back to the handsome Captain.  "You didn't have to come all the
way down here to tell her that," he said.  "You could have used your Comms."

"I could have," he agreed.  "But then I wouldn't get to see you."  He sat on the edge of the bed, and brushed his fingers along
Ianto's cheek delicately.  "Feeling any better?"

Ianto was silent as he thought about it.  "Actually, yes," he said.  He still looked terrible, but there was more color to his skin.  He
still looked exhausted.  He tried to push himself up straighter, but that was beyond him and he sank back to the bed.

Jack helped him, smoothing the blankets down.  Ianto looked away from him, glancing to a mobile phone that hadn't been there
when Jack had left earlier.  "What is it?" Jack asked, concerned.

Ianto bit his lip, a sure sign that he was fretting over something.  He cleared his throat nervously, his eyes straying around to
everything other than Jack.

"I was thinking," Ianto said after a long moment's silence.  He shook his head.  "No, never mind."

"Go on, tell me.  What is it?"

"You'll never agree," Ianto said miserably.

Jack shrugged.  "You never know.  Miracles could happen."  He brushed his fingers over Ianto's stubbly cheek again.  "What is
it?"

"My sister," Ianto started, then stopped and began again.  "I want to go home."

"What?"  Jack wasn't sure he'd heard right.

Ianto looked up at him, eyes swimming with emotion.  "She's all the family I have left.  I want to tell her.  About the baby.  If
something happens to me, she'll be the one to raise him.  She deserves to know where he came from."

"Ianto, we can't tell outsiders," Jack said.

Tears began to fall, sliding in twin trails along pale cheeks.  "I just want to see my sister.  I want her to know.  If she can't
handle it, I'll Retcon her myself, but I can't keep it from her.  Every day she calls.  And every day I lie and say that I'm fine.  
Well, I am not fine.  I am fucking pregnant!  And if I die and the baby lives, she'll be saddled with it."

Jack hated to see Ianto in such a state.  He grabbed his shoulders, holding him steady when his tears turned into sobs.  "Ianto,"
he began, only to falter.  He'd never handled something like this before.  The general rule was that no one outside of Torchwood
could know about Torchwood.  This wasn't a standard situation though.

Hoping he wouldn't regret this, he nodded once.  "All right," he said.  He found he couldn't deny Ianto this.  How much had
Ianto already sacrificed for Torchwood?  And how little had Torchwood given back?  The support of his family could only help
Ianto.

"I want to go tomorrow," Ianto added, wiping at his eyes.  "Spend the holidays."

Christmas was coming.  Jack had nearly forgotten about that.  He nodded again.  "Okay.  If Owen says you're up for it, you can
go."  He brushed his hand through Ianto's hair, smiling as the tears began to subside.  "You could probably do with a break from
this place.  But, Owen is going with you."

Ianto screwed up his face.  "Oh, ruin Christmas, will you?"

Jack chuckled, glad to see Ianto's spirits slightly higher.  He wasn't looking forward to both Ianto and Owen being away from
the Hub for over a week, but he trusted Owen to take care of the Welshman.  The rest of the team would just have to deal with
a couple less people.  Maybe for once the Holidays would turn out quiet.

He wouldn't hold his breath.



To Be Continued...