Gwil's Guide to Growing Up Torchwood: Chapter 12

[amuly]

Title: Gwil's Guide to Growing Up Torchwood: Chapter 12
Pairing: Jack/Ianto, Gwil, Owen, Tosh, Gwen
Word Count: 4,585
Rating: PG-13
Summary: When a seven-year-old boy falls through the Rift, Ianto and Jack decide to adopt him. This is the story of his life at Torchwood.
Chapter Summary: Ianto gets injured, Jack freaks out.
Warnings: CSI or House level gore-squick
A/N: I'M GOING TO CARDIFF IN MARCH!!! Details to follow in another post ^.^

Previous Chapters:
Prologue
The First Year:
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10
11

 

Jack watched Ianto fall, unable to do a thing about it. He ripped his arm away from the alien currently gnawing on it, ignoring how the sinews and muscles ripped away from bone. With a roar he swung his Webley around and shot the alien in the head, not even waiting to see if the wound felled the creature.

A moment later he was at Ianto's side, hands shaking desperately above the pool of blood slowly forming beneath him. Ianto had gotten off a shot; he must have: the alien that had tore a chunk out of his shoulder, trapezium, and neck was lying still next to him. Jack's Webley lay uselessly on the ground – his hands were pressed to Ianto's throat, trying to stop the bleeding.

“Ianto, Ianto, Ianto...” Jack's voice was broken and scared. He barely even recognized it himself as the anguished syllables tore themselves from his lips. Frantically he pulled off his coat, laying it over Ianto before pressing the limp sleeves to the wound. The thick wool absorbed the blood quickly, the red stain spreading through the fabric like spilt ink. It was too much blood – Jack knew that. Still, he pressed down harder, sobbing as Ianto's eyelids fluttered and a pained moan escaped.

“Ianto! Ianto, please, hang on. Please...”

Jack didn't even register Owen running up to them until the doctor was tearing Jack's hands and coat away and replacing them with a wad of cotton and bandages. “Get him off the ground, Jack! Fuck! Throw him into the boot, come on!”

Without a second's thought to the alien corpses littering the warehouse, Jack hefted Ianto into his arms and rushed him to the SUV, crawling into the boot with Ianto still in his arms. He cradled the wounded man in his lap as Owen scrambled up in with them. Owen had barely slammed the door when the SUV took off, Gwen in the driver's seat. “It's a lot of blood,” Jack moaned.

“Thanks, doctor Harkness, I didn't fucking notice!”

Owen was scrambling, securing the wad of bandages to Ianto's throat and injecting him with several different concoctions. Jack blinked, looking around in a state of shock. He knew the ride back to the Hub would take at least ten minutes. He looked down at the increasingly white face of the man in his lap. Ianto wouldn't make it.

“Transfusion. Owen, Owen, you have to...” Jack held out his arm. “Give him my blood. Please.”

Owen's face was grim as he fumbled through the medkit in the boot. “Believe me, Jack, I would if I could.” He grinned without humor. “Ianto's O positive. You're A, Gwen and I are B.” Owen grabbed Ianto's wrist as he felt for a pulse. “If it was any one of us, Ianto could help. But since it's him...”

Jack swallowed thickly. “We can't give to him.” He blinked, tears falling freely onto his coat, still wrapped around Ianto. “But, maybe...maybe my blood's okay. Fifty-first century, the...the vortex energy...”

Again, a shaky non-smile. “I've checked before. It's a no go, Jack. Just...” he lifted one of Jack's hands and placed it over Ianto's wound. “Just keep pressure on it. We have to get back to the Hub. Once we're there, I've got plenty of blood to give him.”

Jack's whole body was shaking violently as he kept pressure on the wound. He watched, almost disconnectedly, as Owen injected Ianto with something else, lifting his wrist and checking his pulse a moment later. He pulled a manual respirator out of the kit, fitting the mask over Ianto's face and pumping it, counting under his breath. His entire demeanor was grim, and he turned to shout over the seat-backs: “Gwen! Get a move on!”

“You don't think I am?!” Gwen's voice had a tinge of hysteria to it, and Jack found himself actually grateful. If Gwen was scared, then she'd drive faster.

He looked up at Owen through tear-filled eyes. “What are his chances?”

Owen shook his head, eyes fixed firmly on Ianto as he continued to pump air into his lungs. “No way to-”

“Owen! Numbers!”

“It's fifty-fifty!” Owen's wide eyes met Jack's, and for the first time Jack noticed a wet sheen to them. “I've got as much procoagulants as I can put into him without stopping his heart, and that's slowing the bleeding. But not enough, and too late: he needs more blood. If his heart hasn't stopped by the time we get him into the med bay, I can probably work some magic.” Owen turned away from Jack, breaking eye contact as he wiped his face on his sleeve. As he turned back, Jack's heart seized at the look on his face. “His pulse is weak, Jack.”

Jack bent his head, staring down at Ianto's face. His skin was white – if it weren't for the rise and fall of his chest, Jack would have thought him dead. As it was, his breathing was shaky, and growing shallower by the minute. “Please, Ianto. Please: don't leave me.”

**

Jack carried Ianto into the Hub, kicking the Chula corpse off the autopsy table and setting Ianto down onto the now-cleared space in one, smooth motion. Tosh ran over from her station, hovering in the observation level with Gwen as Owen dashed in and started pulling apart cabinets. Within a minute he had Ianto hooked up to an IV, blood pumping into his system. Next was an oxygen mask Owen slipped over Ianto's nose and mouth, to replace the manual respirator Owen had continued to work through the entire, frantic drive back.

At first, Jack sighed, thinking the worst was over. But then Ianto's wound started bleeding afresh, soaking through the gauze and tape and spilling over onto the table. “Owen? Owen, what the hell is-”

“It's the anticoagulant! You have to put it in the blood to store it.” Owen ripped the cap off a needle and jabbed it into Ianto's IV line. With a grumble he spun around, eyes drifting around the bay until they stopped, apparently alighting on something. He returned a moment later with something the size of a pen.

“What's that? Owen, do you know how to work it?”

“It's just a laser scalpel. I'm going to stitch up Ianto with it: stop some of the bleeding.”

Jack ran shaking fingers around the outside of the wound. The skin wasn't even really there: chunks of it were torn away, other pieces were just hanging there, shredded and bloody. There were parts where the muscle had been torn away so much that bright spots of bone shone through, noticeable even with pools of blood filling in the gaping holes. “But...Owen, he needs muscles. Skin grafts. What if there's a disease on that animal? You need to test...”

“Just let me do my fucking job!” Owen shoved Jack, eyes blazing, against the railing. “You need to get the fuck away from Ianto right now, or he's going to die. Die, Jack.”

In the sudden stillness, a small sob filled the air. Jack's eyes flickered over to the corner of the medical bay. Gwil was sitting on the bottom step, arms wrapped around his knees and body curled into a tight ball. He was sniffling: bright, blue eyes blood-shot; cheeks tear-stained; nose running as he cried.

With one last shove Owen pushed off Jack, going back over to Ianto. “Take care of your son, Jack; I'll take care of my patient.”

When Jack walked over to Gwil and made to crouch down next to him, Owen shook his head without looking up from Ianto. “No kids in here, Jack. Take him out.”

So Jack scooped Gwil up, pressing his face to his shoulder. Gwil started to cry in earnest, then: arms wrapped tight enough to hurt around Jack's neck and wet face soaking through his shirt. Jack shushed him, rubbing his back as he walked over to his office. “Shh, champ. It's alright. Shh.”

Gwil just sobbed louder, apparently taking Jack's attention as permission to cry. Jack had to work hard not to join him in volume, at the very least. He couldn't help the tears that ran freely down his face and sobs that shook his body, but he managed to do it quietly. “It'll...” Jack gasped silently before continuing. “It'll be okay, Gwil. Shh. Everything'll be fine.”

Gwil's head shook back and forth against Jack's shoulder. Voice muffled, he cried out “Tad's going to die!”

A current of panic shot through Jack's system, causing him to shudder violently. All he could think to do was hold Gwil tighter, hand continuing to rub over the back of Gwil's head. “No. No, he's going to be fine. Uncle Owen is going to make him better.”

But Gwil shook his head and started to cry harder. “He's going to die! The blood, and...and...he looked like Kai!”

Jack continued to hold Gwil. Kai must have been someone he knew at the mill. Every once in a while Gwil would mention someone or something that had happened – most often, someone who had died or some traumatizing event. Jack had a sinking feeling that Kai had died from exsanguination.

“Maybe. But Uncle Owen is very...very good. He'll...” Jack took a shaking breath. “He'll fix Tad.”

A gasp and pained cry came from the med bay. Jack stiffened, clutching Gwil tighter. Every instinct in his body was telling him to run over there, to hold Ianto's hand, to kick and scream and cry, or maybe punch Owen. But he couldn't bear letting Gwil see his tad like that again. So he stayed seated.

A moment later Tosh rushed in, wiping tears from her face. “He's okay,” she gasped out. “Owen's slowed the bleeding. He's awake.” She held her arms out, scooping Gwil up from Jack. “Owen's going to put him under for the repairs. You'd have to talk to him now.”

Jack placed a kiss to Gwil's forehead as he got up to leave. “See? Tad's okay. I'm just going to check on him.” With a nod to Tosh, Jack hurried out of his office.

Ianto was moaning on the table, head turned away from his shredded shoulder and eyes squeezed shut. Owen was working meticulously at the wound, flushing it with a saline solution and taking swabs. Without looking up, Owen spoke: “I'm giving him heavy sedatives. We've got to regrow muscles, and even with the regenerator I've got it hurts like a bastard.”

Reaching Ianto's undamaged side, Jack grabbed for his hand. Ianto squeezed back, hard. His skin was still too pale, but it wasn't quite the deathly pallor it was a few minutes before. “Okay?”

Ianto grit out: “No. It hurts. A lot.”

Jack half-laughed, half-sobbed. “Never would have guessed.”

“Where's Gwil?”

Jack squeezed Ianto's hand reassuringly, clutching it to his chest. “He's fine. He's scared,” he amended. “But if you're okay, we're okay.”

A scream ripped its way from Ianto's throat as Owen did something to his shoulder. Ianto made a futile attempt to roll away, collapsing back onto the table when Owen pulled him back. “Alright, time for Ianto to go to beddie-bye so the doctor can do his job.”

Jack waited as Owen injected the sedative into Ianto's IV. Ianto's grip slackened and expression relaxed, until he was asleep a few seconds later. Jack stayed as Owen continued to work: smoothing back Ianto's hair from his face and rubbing his hand. He watched as Owen carefully reconnected tissue and tendons, using the regenerator to fill in missing parts. Muscles regrew before his eyes, slowly and tediously meshing with the still intact muscles.

Two hours later, Owen threw down the regenerator and laser scalpel. He snapped the blood-soaked gloves off, tossing them into the biohazard bin. Jack tried not to look at the pieces of skin and shredded tissue that the gloves landed on top of. A hand fell heavily on Jack's shoulder, and he glanced up to see Owen nodding tiredly down at him. “I pumped him full of enough sedative to keep him knocked out for the night. He'll be off field duty for...” Owen shrugged. “Hell, I don't even know, Jack. He might have permanent mobility issues with his whole left side.”

Jack nodded, eyes trained on the layers and layers of gauze covering Ianto's neck, collar, and shoulder. “How long until he wakes up?”

Owen glanced at his wrist and, noticing no watch there, lifted Ianto's arm to have a look at his. “It's eleven now, so he should be coming out of it around six am or so.” He hesitated, looking at Jack. “I thought I'd go home, catch some sleep. I'll come back around five, five-thirty?”

Jack nodded absently. “Sure, Owen: go home.” As Owen walked past, Jack reached out and grabbed his wrist with his free hand. “Thanks, Owen.”

“Yeah, well. Just doing my job, boss.”

As the cog door slid shut, Jack bent down and pressed a kiss to Ianto's forehead. His joints creaked as he stepped away. He hadn't taken time to consider his own wounds from that night, and even though they were healed, his newly-grown muscles were protesting his two-hour vigil. He climbed the stairs and looked around. Tosh was on the couch with Gwil: tapping away on her laptop one-handed, while Gwil slept fitfully on her lap, trapping her other hand between himself and the couch. Jack nodded at her. “Thanks, Tosh. You can go home, now.”

Tosh smiled up at him tiredly, slipping her glasses off and closing up her laptop. “No trouble at all, Jack.” She edged Gwil off her carefully, and Jack slid onto the couch, taking the little boy into his arms. “He's still upset.”

Jack nodded as Gwil stirred. Quickly he leaned across and kissed Tosh on the cheek, before turning his full attention to Gwil. The cog door sounded a second time as she left. “Dad?”

Jack smiled down at Gwil. “Hey, sleepy.”

“Where's Tad?”

Jack smoothed down Gwil's hair, which was sticking up on one side from falling asleep on Tosh. “He's resting now, but you can see him if you want.”

Gwil nodded assuredly. Just as Jack was about to stand, he hesitated. Ianto's dressings were clean and blessedly blood-free, but Jack's coat still covered his lower half and was soaked in blood. It probably wouldn't be the most reassuring sight for Gwil.

Just as he was going to tell Gwil to stay in place while he took care of tidying up Ianto, the sound of heels on metal grates reached him. Gwen came out of his office, looking around at the empty Hub. “Owen done, then?”

Jack nodded. Gwen came over and sat on the couch on the opposite side of Gwil, tucking her arm around the boy and looking concernedly at Jack. “Everything alright?”

“Everything's fine. You took care of the cleanup?”

Gwen nodded. “Just got back from the incinerator with the last of them. No witnesses that I could tell, but Tosh already set the computer up to notify us if any reports came through.”

Absently Jack stroked Gwil's hair as he listened. Standing, he tucked Gwil over to Gwen. “Hey, watch him for a minute? He wants to see Ianto, but I need to...” Jack gestured vaguely.

Gwen nodded, pulling Gwil under her arm. “Hey, Gwil. Did you like going to a movie with Uncle Rhys and me last weekend?” As Gwil nodded sleepily, Jack backed away and into his office. “We could go to another one this weekend. Maybe even get some ice cream.”

Jack hurried down the ladder into their rooms. He gathered up a pillow and blankets from the linen closet, as well as a pair of pajama bottoms from their dresser. There was no way he was going to be able to maneuver a shirt onto him in his state, so Jack left the matching top and hurried back up, into the Hub. With a finger held up to Gwen he made his way down the stairs of the med bay.

Jack paused for a moment, looking at Ianto. Color had slowly returned to his cheeks as he had rested and Owen worked. Now he was looking more his old self: ragged and worse for wear, but himself. Gingerly Jack removed his coat, grimacing as Ianto's dried blood cracked and distorted its normal lines. He removed Ianto's trousers and pants, tossing them into the corner. The suit was a total loss after today.

Gingerly Jack slipped the pajama bottoms on. Just as carefully he slid a blanket under Ianto – an autopsy table wasn't exactly the most comfortable place to spend the night, but Owen had insisted no one move Ianto until the morning, when they could better assess his stability. Jack then slipped the pillow under his head and spread the quilt he had grabbed over him. Gently he covered what he could of the bandages: he would uncover it later so as not to damage the area, but for now he didn't want Gwil to see how extensive the damage was. He had already seen too much, that day.

Running his hands down the quilt, Jack took one final moment to himself. If it weren't for the oxygen mask still firmly in place over Ianto's nose and mouth, now it would almost look as though Ianto really was sleeping, rather than unconscious due to heavy sedation. Bending down, Jack placed a lingering kiss to Ianto's forehead. The skin was blessedly warm beneath his lips. With tears in his eyes he stood, fingers brushing over Ianto's hair. “Gwen?”

Gwen appeared, tugging Gwil along with her. He was looking more alert now, but also more worried. “Come here,” Jack stretched his arms out, scooping up Gwil and settling him on his hip. He started leaning, craning his neck to peer down at Ianto.

“Tad?”

“Shh. Tad's sleeping. He has to rest up to feel better.”

Fearful eyes turned to meet Jack's. “Will he wake up?”

Leaning forward, Jack nuzzled his head against Gwil's. “Of course he will. Tomorrow morning Uncle Owen is going to come in and wake him up.” Jack gave Gwil a minute to touch Ianto's chest and stare down at his sleeping face, before he squeezed the boy. “Come on: you need to sleep.”

Gwil's eyes slid down to the ground, an almost-pout forming on his lips. He was much too well-behaved – another remnant of his mill days, though Ianto's influence was certainly helping the manners linger – to voice a protest, though Jack could tell he wanted to. “Here: give Tad a kiss.”

Jack held Gwil as he carefully levered himself down to kiss Ianto on the cheek. Then he carried him to their rooms, letting him go down the ladder first. Jack tucked him in perfunctorily, mind too focused on Ianto alone in the med bay to focus on the task at hand. With an absent-minded kiss on the forehead, Jack made to leave Gwil's room.

“Dad?”

Almost out of the room, Jack stopped. He allowed himself one longing gaze at the ladder, then turned back to Gwil. “Yeah?”

Gwil's big blue eyes stared up at him from beneath a pile of blankets. “I'm scared. Can you stay with me?”

Jack winced, but made his way back to the chair next to Gwil's bed. “Sure, champ. Why don't I read you your book?”

Jack made to pick up The Magician's Nephew, but Gwil's sudden cry stopped him. “No! Tad's reading that!”

With a sigh, Jack's eyes skimmed around the room. “Hang on: I'll be right back.” Jack hurried out and grabbed the first book on the coffee table: Xenobiology for the Intrepid Traveler. Owen had given it to Ianto for Christmas last year.

Settling in next to Gwil's bed, Jack opened to a random page and started to read: “'Name: Foamasi. Type: Reptilian biped. Planet of Origin: Unknown. Affiliated With: the Argolin. The Foamasi are an intelligent, bipedal race of reptiles resembling humanoid chameleons...'”

Twenty minutes later, Gwil was asleep, and Jack snuck out to return to Ianto's side.

**

The cog door sounded at five o'clock that morning. Jack hadn't slept yet, opting to sit with his back to the railing as he watched Ianto's chest rise and fall throughout the night. Ianto had barely moved: not even those little twitches or groans he was liable to make throughout a normal night's sleep. But with the cog door alarm, Ianto shifted, frown creasing his features and a small groan escaping his lips.

“Ianto?”

Ianto's blue eyes sliding open was more beautiful to Jack than the crystalline star supernova he had seen back in his twenties. Tears pricked at his eyes as he grinned down at the other man, who was growing more awake by the second. “J-Ja-ow...” Ianto's words descended into a small groan, eyes falling shut again in pain.

Jack quickly stifled his smile – though with the amount of relief he was feeling, it was hard – and glanced over his shoulder. Owen was walking down the steps, eyes bloodshot and hair completely unstyled. “How's the patient?”

“Just waking up.”

Ianto groaned, slitting open a single eye. “Feeling like I went ten rounds with a weevil. Owen?”

Owen was already there, pulling out a needle from the fridge and injecting it into Ianto's IV. “Painkillers on their way. Thirty seconds and you're going to feel fantastic.” Ianto's expression eased immediately and he nodded. Owen was on his stool, sliding across the bay and grabbing a clipboard. “Before the meds go making you feel like Wolverine, rate your pain levels for me.”

“Twenty,” Ianto grumbled.

“What's it feel like?” When Ianto just shot Owen a look, Owen held one hand up and continued. “'Scuse me. Does it feel bruised, torn, or itchy? Is there an area where the pain is worse?”

“Yeah, my left shoulder area.”

Owen rolled his eyes and glared at Jack. “Get control over your spouse, would you?”

Jack just shrugged. “Not my husband, sorry Owen.” He nodded at the dressings that Owen was lifting gingerly. “How is he?” he half-whispered.

Owen snorted and continued to examine the area. Jack noticed that beneath the pink, new flesh and hundreds of stitches, the entire area was a mass of deep purple bruising. “Because you don't sound like a concerned husband,” Owen smirked up at Jack as he replaced the bandages.

To Ianto he said, “Come on, pain descriptions, before the painkillers set in and you forget.”

Ianto sighed but spoke up. “Bruised. Massively bruised, that's how my whole left side feels. And tight.”

Owen nodded. “That'd be the scar tissue and stitches. Any sharp or wet pains?”

Ianto shook his head, then stopped, grimacing. “No. Just hurts. A lot.”

With a smirk, Owen smacked his clipboard against his hand. "Good news! You'll be up and ready to get mauled again in a month!” Owen made some more notes on his clipboard before sliding across the bay and tossing it onto a table. “I'm going to scan you later today, after I give the regenerated muscles and tendons and what-not more time to integrate into the old stuff you've got, but from what I can tell, recovery looks good.”

Ianto groaned and appeared to attempt to roll his eyes. “Thanks, Owen, but in the meantime can I get another dose of painkillers?”

Owen frowned and grabbed Ianto's wrist, feeling his pulse for thirty seconds. Finally he dropped it and nodded. “Quarter of a dose more, but that's all you're getting for another six hours.”

As the painkillers hit his system, Ianto relaxed more, eyes fluttering shut. He hummed happily. “That's good...”

Owen nodded at Jack. “Alright, he's good to move. I'd suggest loo, maybe a scrub down, then bed.” He squinted at Ianto's IV, apparently considering something. “He can eat, but try and keep it liquid: soups and the like. And you might want to keep a bucket nearby.” He shrugged at Jack's alarm. “Nausea's to be expected with that amount of damage and meds.”

Jack nodded, moving to scoop Ianto up. Once Ianto was securely in his arms (and nuzzling quite unselfconsciously into his chest) he hesitated, glancing at Owen. “Could you...”

Blinking once, Owen laughed in sudden understanding. “You guys really need to get some stairs.”

Ianto made a funny little giggling noise from where he was snuggled into Jack's chest. “I told him 'bout stairs.” He blinked, raising his eyes slowly up to Jack's face. “'s Gwil?”

Bending down, Jack pressed a light kiss to Ianto's forehead as he followed Owen over to the ladder in his office. “He was shaken up, but now he's sleeping in his room.” Jack caught Owen's accusing glare and he scowled back. “I could have handled the situation better.”

With a satisfied smirk Owen descended down the ladder. At his shout, Jack carefully lowered Ianto down to him, trying his best not to pull at his damaged side. The task proved almost impossible, but Ianto was drugged up enough that he didn't complain. Once Owen and Jack managed to maneuver Ianto to bed, Owen checked over the bandages and stitches again, tutting at a few torn stitches. “Let me grab some stuff.”

As they waited for Owen to return, Jack crawled into bed with Ianto, clinging to his undamaged side. “Don't ever do that again,” he whispered.

Ianto's smile was a bit drugged and unfocused, but his words were clear enough for Jack to understand: “Can't promise it, sir.”

Once Owen had given Ianto a tune-up and helped Jack get him to the bathroom and back, he left for good. He told Jack he had cultures growing from the swabs he took of Ianto's wounds, so they would know if there was anything else they would need to do in a few hours. At Ianto's weak request for a glass of water, Jack returned from the kitchen with a pitcher, two glasses, and a bendy straw. Ianto drank a full glass, then pushed away Jack's attempt at a refill and closed his eyes.

Jack was watching him, sure he had fallen back to sleep, when Ianto spoke up again. “Jack?”

Immediately Jack squeezed Ianto's good hand in reassurance. “I'm here.”

“'m sorry I scared you. And Gwil.”

Jack's eyes watered, so he pushed back Ianto's hair and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “It's alright. We're fine. I'll bring Gwil in later when you wake up.”

“'love him.” Jack could tell Ianto was actually falling asleep now, as his breathing evened out and words drawled heavily.

After a silent sob Jack lay his head down gently on Ianto's side, listening for his heartbeat. His voice was a hoarse whisper. “I love him, too.”


Want more? Continue on to Chapter 13.

 

Comments

[analia-the-1st.livejournal.com]

I think I spent the first half of this chapter almost in tears. I'm glad Ianto will be ok, but geez, that was scary! I did have to laugh at Jack's choice of reading materal to put Gwil to sleep.

[amuly.livejournal.com]

Awwww *pat pat pat* You know I'd never do anything so terrible!!
(Oh, wait, I've totally written depressing death!fic before, haven't I? :P)

Glad it gripped you, even if you were partially spoiled for it!

[fiwen1010.livejournal.com]

*wibbles* I was so scared... Thank God he's okay.
And it's about time that Jack and Ianto made it official, don't you think?
Gxxx

[amuly.livejournal.com]

Hurm hurm hurm...Perhaps....
>_>
<_< Have I been hinting at them needing to make it official? I'm not suuuure.... ~.^

[footprint-23.livejournal.com]

What a chapter! Eeep Ianto got hurt, Gwil cried, Jack cried, I nearly cried (I never cry reading fic). Great work!

[amuly.livejournal.com]

Awwww thank you!!!

This kind of cry is the *good* cry: the cry where you know everything will work out. *hugs*

Thanks for reading!

[pyrosnightmare.livejournal.com]

that was.... intense. wow.

[amuly.livejournal.com]

Well thanks! I tried my best *pat pat pat*

[saint87.livejournal.com]

Oohhhhhh JEEZE! All that flesh taken out of Ianto's shoulder (shudder).
And poor Gwil, flashing back on mill life... That kiss to his unconcious Tad was sweet, to. Will we get to learn who Kai is? And bravo Owen for being such a good doc.
And bravo to you, for another intriguing chapter!

[amuly.livejournal.com]

Don't know if Kai will come up again, though his past mill life will certainly continue to play a big role in Gwil's experiences. It was his formative years, after all.

Thanks for reading and commenting!

[beesandbrews.livejournal.com]

Great job! Very intense.

[amuly.livejournal.com]

Thank you!
Glad you liked!

[noresund.livejournal.com]

So good to read something after just returning from a weekend trip to Cardiff! Thank you, I love this story!
What can I say about the weekend? It was awesome! I saw John Barrowman live in concert... and guess what!? Eve Myles was in the audience and I got a chance to talk to her! She is the sweetest thing and so beautiful! Oh, and John cried after getting standing ovation. Reduced me to tears too...

[amuly.livejournal.com]

Thanks for reading, and also:
*shove* LUCKY!! Nurf, so super awesome!!!

[chocolatenianto.livejournal.com]

That was scary and beautiful in one. I had tears in my eyes for a bit, poor Jack, he needed a cuddle. Poor Gwil seeing his Tad hurt and thinking he would die. Poor Ianto, thank god for Owen.
Ianto needs some Jack love and care. Is it not time they were husbands/ or spouses as Owen puts it? Gwil will be pleased to see his Tad is awake. Love this story.

[amuly.livejournal.com]

Glad you liked it, and here's a huggle *hug* for being upset.

And is Owen's snark about husbands/spouses going to be a continuous issue? That may more may not get resolved in year two? *whistle whistle whistle*

[hab318princess.livejournal.com]

phew, so glad Ianto's making a recovery... love it

[amuly.livejournal.com]

Thank you! ^.^