Work Header

Even If the World Ends

Chapter Text

Sherlock Holmes was seven-years-old, sitting on the swing set in his back yard, crying and rubbing his arm, wishing for somebody, anybody to come help him. Hearing a low, feral growl behind him, Sherlock turned, heart pounding as he saw a creature come out of the trees, running for him, baring its sharp teeth. A man in a dark trench coat and short, spiky dark hair was not far behind the thing. "GET DOWN!" he yelled at the boy, taking careful aim and shooting the creature. Sherlock hit the dirt quickly, scraping his elbow but not really noticing since there was, in fact, a man with a gun pointed in his direction and a monster attacking him. Two shots brought down the monster and the man hurried to the boy. "Are you all right?" he asked, extending his hand.

Sherlock nodded; his piercing, pale blue eyes stared up at the man. "What is that thing? It doesn't look like a person."

"It's not, but don't be scared. It can't hurt you anymore." The man helped the boy to his feet. "Captain Jack Harkness," Jack said, introducing himself.

"Sherlock Holmes," the boy said, inspecting the scrape on his elbow. Nothing serious, he thought as he brushed the dirt off. "A Captain? Like on a pirate ship?" he asked, suddenly excited. He had always wanted to be a pirate.

Jack smiled. "Sort of, actually. I was something of a pirate once. Is this your house?" He checked his watch. "Where the hell is the team? They should be here by now," As he spoke, A black SUV pulled up alongside the large house, Owen, Gwen, and Ianto clambering out.

"Who's the kid?" Owen asked, walking over to the body to inspect it.

"Sherlock Holmes," Jack replied. "Weevil sightings are getting worse. This one almost attacked our little friend here."

Owen nodded, setting to work covering up the body so they could get it back. Sherlock walked over next to Owen and watched with interest.

"Gwen, damage control, Tosh, rift activity and Weevil locations, Ianto, just stand there looking handsome for me." Jack barked out his orders before turning to Sherlock. "Now, what shall we do about you, hm?"

Sherlock looked up at the man. "I won't tell anybody. I promise," he said.

Jack crouched to Sherlock's level, eye to eye with the boy. "I know you do, but we have a dangerous job. All anybody would have to know is that you saw something once." He looked at the boy, disappointment clear on the child's face and made a decision. "Say, how would you like to come back with us for a bit? Show you around our headquarters."
"Jack-" Gwen started but he ignored her.

Sherlock nodded vigorously. "That would be brilliant," he said enthusiastically. Ianto smiled a bit at the kid's eagerness.

"Right. Owen, put that in the trunk and everybody pile in. Ianto, if you'd be so kind as to drive..."

Ianto nodded quickly and headed back to the SUV, hopping in the driver's seat as Owen hoisted up the dead Weevil and moved it to the trunk and Sherlock ran over to the car, squeezing into the middle to take up as little space as possible. Gwen and Tosh sat on either side of the boy, buckling him in as Jack took the passenger seat. Owen hopped in squeezing next to Tosh as they drove back towards the bay. Owen looked slightly annoyed about having to share the space with some kid, but said nothing.

"Home, Jeebs," Jack said to Ianto, winking.

Tosh flushed as Owen sat close, turning instead to talk to the boy. "So, how old are you, uh, Sherlock, was it?" Gwen turned to listen, curious about the child as well.

Sherlock nodded. "Seven," he answered, looking up at the two women.

"Do you have family? Siblings? Friends?" Gwen asked.

"I have Mummy and Father," He shuddered a bit at the latter; he was terrified of his father. "And Mycroft. He's old."

Gwen noticed, pulling the boy close to comfort him. "You have an older brother?"

"You didn't mention any friends, Sherlock. Surely you must have some."

Sherlock shook his head. "The other children are afraid of me."

"Why?" Jack turned around to look at Sherlock. "You don't seem very scary to me."

"I notice things. About other people. They said I'm a freak."

"I highly doubt you're a freak."
"What kinds of things do you notice?" Tosh and Gwen asked.

"Little things. Like how your eyes are older than the rest of you," he said, looking at Jack, his eyes piercing through the man in the passenger seat.

"What else can you tell about me? I'm a complex man. just ask Ianto here," Ianto smiled and nodded, keeping his eyes on the road.
"Well, you don't look like you're from now. like your coat. It looks like it is very, very old, much older than you are. It could be from a family member but I don't think it is," the boy told him.

"It is old, World War Two Era. I got it from a soldier. Cute fellow, nice eyes. Though yours are much nicer," he added hastily to the driver. Gwen and Tosh giggled softly.

"But you called yourself Captain. Wouldn't that mean that you're a soldier?" Sherlock asked. "And that coat looks like a Captain's coat. I saw it in a book once."

"Yes and yes again. I served in the infantry in London in nineteen forty-two, during the blitz."

"But how did you do that? You don't look that old," the boy said, leaning forward and squinting at Jack.

"You tell me, detective. Besides, you said my eyes are very old, also correct. I've lived much longer than I have any right to."

"Can you die?" the boy asked as they parked.

Jack didn't answer for a moment, and when he looked back at the boy, he could feel his age weighing heavily on his shoulders. "No, Sherlock, I can't."

"We'll leave you for a moment," Gwen said, climbing out. "Owen, help me with the Weevil, Tosh, come on."

Sherlock sat up straight, just thinking. "That's not possible," he pointed out as the others left the SUV. "I'll go make some coffee," Ianto said, excusing himself from the vehicle.

"Come on, climb up here next to me. You can even sit in the driver's seat."

Sherlock smiled and clambered over the center console into the driver's seat, looking rather small behind the steering wheel.

"Sherlock, I'm not from here. I'm from the fifty-firstcentury. I'm a time traveler, and on one of my adventures, I was killed. A friend of mine healed me, but she made it so I could never die again. If I'm killed, I just come back. That's part of why my eyes look so old."

"Oh," the boy said, not sure how to respond. "Is it nice? The future?" he asked.

"Some parts of it are. Some parts of it aren't. Now, I'll bet there are more observations in that little detective brain of yours. Can you tell anything else about me?"

"Hmmm." The boy looked about for a moment. "You do a lot of running. And you get into fights sometimes," he observed, looking at various subtle mending jobs on the coat. "You drink a lot of coffee." He wrapped his arms around his legs, knees curled up under his chin while he looked at the Captain. "A lot of you doesn't make sense."

Jack grinned, chucking Sherlock gently under the chin. "What doesn't make sense about me?" This boy fascinated him.

"Well, you just seem strange. You are full of secrets. A lot of the things I can deduce about you aren't true; it's misleading," the boy said.

Jack ruffled the boy's hair. "Yep. I'm definitely confusing. Now, would you like to go inside?"

Sherlock nodded, grabbing the steering wheel and standing up. "Definitely."

Jack got out and went around to the other side, swinging Sherlock onto his shoulders before heading into the shop that was the front of the operation. Smiling at Ianto and giving him the look, Jack went into the hub.

"This is Torchwood."

Sherlock's eyes widened as they entered the Hub. The normally articulate young boy was stunned silent. "Wow," he whispered.

"Yeah, impressive right?" Jack walked around, indicating each team member's stations and a bit of what they did.

"Owen here is our resident doctor, Tosh the brains of it all, Gwen is our liaison with the outside world, and Ianto does everything else. I'm the Captain and the head of operations here."

Sherlock nodded, looking up as Myfanwy flew overhead. "Was that a dinosaur?" he asked, craning his head back so far he almost fell over.

"Pterodactyl," Tosh replied. "So, Jack, if you don't mind me asking and all of us are very curious, why did you bring the boy along?"

"The thrill of adventure," Jack replied, brushing off the question.

Sherlock looked all around him. "This place is amazing," he said; he never wanted to leave. Ianto came over and offered Jack a cup of coffee, and Sherlock smiled knowing his deduction had been right.

"See? Right about the coffee," Jack grinned. "Owen, how about you show the boy your surgery? I need to speak with Ianto for a moment"

Owen nodded, motioning the boy over to where he was performing the Weevil autopsy. Sherlock looked down at intently as Ianto went to speak with Jack.


Jack pulled Ianto into his office, shutting the blinds and locking the door. Ianto understood, walking over to his boss and kissing him. Jack set down his coffee, wrapping his arms around the younger man. "Been wanting to do that all night"

Ianto nodded. "Stop talking," he chuckled, kissing Jack again and draping his arms over his shoulders. Jack pulled Ianto closer, deepening the kiss without effort, loving when the other gave the orders, backing up against the wall to give Ianto more control. Ianto leaned his hands against the wall, pressing his body against Jack's as he ran his tongue across the seam between Jack's lips.

Jack moaned breathily into Ianto's mouth, opening his own and accepting his lover's tongue. The younger man ran his tongue across Jack's, moving one hand to wander up and down the Captain's chest. Jack's hands were in Ianto's hair, one lazily trailing down his back to cup his arse. Jack grinned and kissed more hungrily than before, making Ianto moan softly as he untucked Jack's shirt and slipped his hands under the fabric, feeling his lover's chest.

"Oh god, more- fuck," Jack gasped.

"Language, Jack," Ianto purred teasingly starting with the buttons on the man's shirt.

"Oh, sorry your highness," Jack growled, practically ripping off Ianto's tie in his haste to get his shirt off.

Ianto helped, unbuttoning the shirt quickly and tossing it aside before pressing his now bare chest against Jack.

"Need to be quick tonight, I'll make you scream later, doll."

Ianto smiled. "I'll hold you to that," he said, making quick work of unbuttoning the other man's shirt. "Have I ever told you how much I love that coat?" he asked.

"Not recently," Jack groaned as Ianto kissed his chest working his way down. The coffee boy smirked, undoing Jack's belt and pulling it from the loops in one swift movement. He snapped the waistband on his pants teasingly before working on the button.

Jack's hands found Ianto's hair, guiding his head to Jack's crotch. "Please," Jack whispered. Ianto nodded, quickly undoing Jack's trousers and pulling them down along with his pants. He kissed the tip of Jack's manhood before taking it in his mouth.

Jack gasped, knees going weak. "Ooooooh, yes, Ianto, love."

Ianto bobbed his head back and forth, delighting in the sounds coming from Jack's mouth.

"ungh- yes- faster- your tongue that thing with- ohhhhhhh- that one- oh fuck- baby-"

Ianto went faster, swirling his tongue about expertly. He had done this enough times to know what Jack liked. Jack was close and getting closer. Ianto's hot wet mouth working him over expertly. "Almost- there-"

Ianto continued, bringing Jack to the edge. He knew he would get his own reward later.

With a stifled cry, Jack came, shooting everything down Ianto's throat. "Jesus-" he gasped, sliding down to sit in front of his lover.

Ianto smiled, wiping his mouth on his arm. "You owe me big time," he teased, pulling his shirt and tie off of the floor.

"I intend to make the most of it." Slapping Ianto's arse as the Welshman reached for his clothes, Jack picked himself up and made himself presentable again. "What should we do about the kid?"

Ianto frowned. "He can't know about all this, Jack, you know that," he said, handing Jack his pants with a kiss.

"Yeah, but he's seven. Somehow I feel bad about retconning a seven-year-old, especially one so bright. Figures I'd eventually go soft." Jack accepted the kiss, tugging on his pants and trousers

"What do you propose then? He has to go home, his parents will be looking for him."

"I don't know. I mean, you're right as ever but I just- he has potential, Ianto!"

"We can't keep him here, Jack."

Jack rubbed his eyes. "Then what? We retcon him and send him home? The kid's a loner, you heard him in the car,"

"Jack, you can't help every lonely kid out there. You know what we have to do. If you don't want to, have one of the others do it."

Jack sighed, reaching for Ianto. "Hug me then. I don't want to see the look on his face without some comfort first."

Ianto hugged Jack. "I'm sorry, maybe when he's older you can find him, he'll still be just as bright." He tried to comfort the man, not really sure what else to say.

"And the chances of our team still being together then?"

"Jack, don't do this," Ianto said. He didn't want to be reminded of the likelihood that most of them could easily be dead by the time the boy was ten.

Jack nodded, kissing Ianto fiercely before straightening up. "How do I look?"

"Perfect as usual," the Welshman answered, straightening his tie. "Come on."

"What drink should we offer the boy?"

"Give him a soda or something," Ianto shrugged. Usually it was alcohol, but this was a seven year old they were talking about.

"Toss me a Coke from the fridge."

Ianto did as he was told, lobbing a can to the Captain gently.

"Well then, let's get this over with."


Jack called for Owen and the boy as he left his office, soda in hand. Sherlock looked up as he heard his name, smiling at the Captain. Jack had already slipped the pill into the can when he offered it to the boy. "You must be thirsty. I can't believe we forgot our manners."

Sherlock nodded, taking a sip. "Are you going to make me go home?" he asked, a look of fear briefly crossing his face.

"No," Jack shook his head, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder. "You can even sleep here tonight."  Let the kid at least go to sleep happy.

"Good," the boy said, relieved. "I hate it there."

"Why?" Jack sat next to him, everyone coming over to listen; it was as if they were giving Sherlock a true audience.

"Father scares me," he said quietly, looking down at his soda and taking another sip. "I'm not really supposed to talk about it."

"You can tell us. We're really good at keeping secrets," Gwen piped up, her remark met by nods from everyone else.

"He hits me. When I'm bad. And he calls me a freak," the boy said, rubbing his arm where he knew there was a bruise hidden by his shirt. That stunned everyone into silence. "That's- that's terrible," Tosh finally managed, tears in her eyes for the boy. They all knew what was in his drink, and they wanted to make the most of the time before he fell asleep.

Sherlock nodded silently. "Please don't make me go back there," he whispered.

Jack hated himself, really properly hated himself. "We'll take care of you. Won't your mother and your brother miss you?"

"Mummy is sick, and Mycroft doesn't like me," he said. "He's going away to university soon anyway."

Jack made a mental note to see if they could cure his mother and put his father away, anything to help the kid, the kid who had begun to yawn. "I'm sorry everything's been so difficult for you."

Sherlock nodded sleepily. He leaned against Jack, closing his eyes and putting the can down. "I'm tired," he told them, yawning.

"You've had a long day." Jack held the boy, stroking his hair back from his face. "We've all got you. Sleep now."
"Goodnight, Sherlock." Tosh.

"Sweet dreams." Gwen.

"Hang in there, mate." Owen.

Sherlock brought his knees up under his chin again and fell asleep; the worried features softened, and he looked peaceful. Owen frowned. "Are we really going to send him back there?" he asked.

Jack sighed. "Owen, I want you to find out everything you can about his mother. See if we can't heal her. Tosh and Ianto, incarcerate his father. Put him somewhere he can never hurt this boy again." Jack's eyes met Gwen's, the question unspoken. "He drank it all, it's in his system now."

Gwen nodded, her eyes sad. "I'll help Owen."

Owen went over to the computer, looking through the records for a woman with the last name Holmes. Ianto went with Tosh; he felt angry, wondering how anybody could do that to a child. Jack sat there and just held Sherlock, pulling the sleeping child onto his lap and cradling him, feeling sick with himself.


Gwen joined Owen. "This isn't right."

Owen nodded in agreement. "Arianna Holmes," he read from the screen, pulling up the file. He sighed. "Cancer,"

"Fuck," Gwen swore. "Pancreatic, stage three, metastasized, oh the poor boy..."

Owen cursed, kicking the desk angrily. "Abusive Father and his mother's dying-"

"-And a prat of an older brother off to uni. Owen, the boy has no one."

"It's not fair," Owen said, glancing at the little dark-haired boy in Jack's lap. "He'll be in the system after she passes away."

"There's nothing we can do, is there? He's going to be miserable, and we've just retconned him. It'll be our fault, won't it?"

"It's not our fault," Owen shook his head. "We did the best we could."

"But our best is never good enough," Gwen sighed. "We're exhausted and have done nothing but chase Weevils for an entire week. But this boy is...different, Owen."

"What are we supposed to do? Let him stay here?" he asked angrily.

"I don't know. I don't have the answer." Gwen stomped away, flopping into her chair at her desk to try and calm down.


"I've located several suitable places to put the father. What do you think Ianto?" Tosh asked.

"What's the worst? Where can we put this scumbag so he can get what he deserves?" Ianto asked, fuming.

"Ummm, there's a really nasty one in Russia. Red tape alone will keep him there a solid twenty years easy, if he lasts that long."

Ianto nodded. "Put him there," he agreed. He wanted this man to pay for what he had done to the child. Tosh typed quickly. "Done. They'll pick him up at work tomorrow, less traumatic for the boy. Ianto, is this right? What we're doing?"

"What?" he asked "Putting this man in jail?"

"No, about the boy. The father can rot in hell for all I care."

"What? Is what right?" he asked. "Retconning him?"

"Yeah, sending him back to a broken home. There has to be something, anything we can do."

"We didn't know, Tosh. What else are we supposed to do?"

"I know we can't keep him, but can we make sure he ends up with a good family? One that will willingly take him in? There has to be at least one in this city, if not the country."

Ianto nodded. "I'm sure we can find something. We at least can do that. Can't we?"

"I'm sure as hell gonna try." Tosh's fingers danced over the keyboard, searching. "Ah! London: father's a doctor, mother stays at home, a son and a daughter, the boy's Sherlock's age even, on the list of potential foster/ adoptive homes."

The others looked up as they heard the end of the sentence, looking hopeful for the first time all night.

Own looked up from his screen. "That sounds perfect. Make it happen, Tosh," he said, desperate to do even one thing to help the broken little boy.


A few more keystrokes and "Done. The records are going in tonight and the family will be notified in the morning. He'll be in London tomorrow."

"Enough time to say goodbye to his mother," Owen nodded.

"And his brother," Gwen added. "we really should get him home, Jack,"

Jack nodded, not moving. Ianto went over, resting a hand on Jack's shoulder. "We did the best we could, Jack, this is good for him."

Jack nodded, still not moving, rocking Sherlock back and forth. He didn't know why he'd bonded to the kid, but he had. "I wish there was another way."

"You really care about him don't you?" Ianto asked, kneeling down to be face to face with Jack.

"Yes. He- he reminds me of my little brother, of Gray," Jack whispered, fighting tears now.

Ianto hugged Jack around the shoulders. "It's okay Jack, it'll be okay," he whispered softly.

"You'll need to help me up."

He nodded, taking Jack's arm and helping him stand up. "Come on, he's better off not knowing about us anyway."

"You can't know that for sure," Jack replied as he followed Ianto back to the car.

"Jack, he would die here. Somehow, someday, he would die and you would never forgive yourself." The Welshman opened the door so Jack could put the boy in the backseat. Jack buckled him in, grabbing blankets to cushion his head before climbing in the passenger seat. "I know."

Ianto closed the door, hopping in the driver's seat. "At least you're giving him a better home."

"Yeah, at least we could do that for the kid."

Ianto nodded. "I'm sorry, Jack," he said, knowing he had already grown attached to the boy.

Jack rubbed a hand over his tired face. "Well, better get this over with."

Ianto nodded. "You keep your temper when we get there," he warned. He knew it would take quite a bit of self control not to punch the bastard who caused this boy so much pain right in the throat. Jack grunted in assent. "Gonna be tough, you know that." He glanced back at the sleeping boy. "He looks so young asleep, Ianto. But awake, he looked almost as old as I do."

"I know. He's had it rough," the man agreed, glancing sadly back at the little boy in the back seat as they drove back towards Sherlock's home. He didn't know what would happen when they got there, and he was nervous, although hiding it well. Jack reached over to rub Ianto's shoulder. "You'll be there, that's what counts with me."

Ianto relaxed a bit. He placed his hand on Jack's for a moment before returning it to the steering wheel. It seemed like all too quickly they were there out front of the large manor-like house.

"This is it," Ianto announced, looking back at the boy who looked so peaceful. He felt terrible about having to send him back to this place even for one night.

"Think we can sneak him in without getting caught? He was outside on the swing when I found him,. Anything to avoid the father.

"Jack, he's unconscious and he can't remember anything," Ianto said. "Plus I think we'd run into trouble trying to sneak into a place like this. They've probably been looking for him."

Jack sighed. "Let's do this fast."

Ianto nodded. He hopped out of the car and opened the back door, scooping the boy out of the back seat. Jack led the way to the front door. "Here goes." He knocked and rang the bell, standing very still as lights came flooding on

Ianto came up behind him and took a deep breath, holding the boy close as a large, brutish man answered the door. In the house behind him, a teenager who must have been Sherlock's brother stood, watching them. "Who the hell are you?" the man asked, looking down at the men who had just showed up with his unconscious son.

"John Smith and Ian. We were headed home and saw your son running from some thugs. He managed to tell us his name and address before he collapsed. Poor thing seemed scared to death." Not the best lie he'd ever given, but it would have to do. Ianto nodded. He found himself feeling both outraged and intimidated by the man in front of him. Mr. Holmes thought for a second. "Bring him in," He said, not bothering to try and take his son from them.

Jack entered the house, all senses on alert. "Where would you like me to set Sherlock down?" he asked, checking that Ianto was behind him. The man waved them up the stairs, "His room is down the hall to the left. Leave him there," he said, leaving them alone, not particularly concerned with the young boy's well being.

Jack bit his tongue until it bled, carrying Sherlock up to the boy's room. He tucked him into bed, glancing around at the bare, dark walls and the bookshelves. He smoothed the hair off of Sherlock's forehead before leaning in and whispering to him. "You'll find me again one day, I have no doubt. A boy like you, very clever should have no trouble. Everything will be fine. I promised and I'm keeping it." He turned to Ianto. "Let's go."

Ianto's heart ached  as they left the place. He leaned to whisper in Jack's ear, "Can't I shoot him, just a bit?" he asked, his voice filled with anger. Jack took his hand, squeezing it tightly. "No, but if you'd like, I can assign you to a torture detail for the prison he's going to. Dunno if you want to travel to Russia...or we could arrange for him to make a little stopover at the hub..."

"Both tempting," Ianto said, grinning a bit at the thought of it. He opened the door of the car for Jack, wanting to get out of there quickly. Jack climbed in, waiting until they were on the road to ask, "Which do you want? I'll get Tosh to arrange it when we get back."

"Maybe the Hub, I think everybody would like to have a few words with him," he said, his whole body was tense; it was strange to see the Welshman so upset. Jack nodded. "Done. Perhaps he won't even make it to Russia..."

"I don't think they'd miss him," Ianto smiled, satisfied. Soon they were back at the hub. Ianto let them in, feeling both enraged and triumphant at the thought that they would get their turn with the man.


"Let me go tell Tosh about the change of destination... and then it's time for me to honor my promise." Jack winked at Ianto before strolling into the hub. "Change of plans people," he called. "Mr. Abusive Father is coming here, not Russia."

Owen looked up at Jack with a look of surprise that changed to a small smirk. "So we get to meet Daddy Dearest?" he asked.

"Ohhh yes we do. You can all thank Ianto for the idea. Tosh?"
"Already done. The boys will bring him here for us first thing."

"Bright and early," Ianto said.


Gwen went with Tosh and Owen to set up the cells for the guest's arrival, while Jack pulled Ianto in for a kiss. "So, about that promise...Back to my place?"

"By your place you mean here?" Ianto asked jokingly. "Yes."

Jack grinned. "Smart arse, are we?" He nipped Ianto's lip before all but dragging him back to his office.

Ianto followed quickly. "Shouldn't you tell the others to go home?" he asked, his breathing growing heavy.

"They'll be busy for awhile. Besides, none of us are going to sleep knowing that creep is coming here."

Ianto nodded, pulling the door to Jack's office shut behind him as they entered.

The door was locked and the blinds still shut from before. For the second time that night, Jack pulled Ianto in for a kiss, shoving the Welshman against the wall this time. Ianto moaned into Jack's mouth as his back hit the wall. He loved it when Jack took charge; the immortal looked so sexy when he was in control. Jack deepened the kiss, hungry and needy, his rage turning into desire. Spinning Ianto around he growled, "Bend over the desk."

Ianto did as he was told, bending over so he was propped up on his elbows, his stomach resting against the cool surface of the desk.

Jack tugged the man's trousers down, dropping his own and grabbing the lube from the desk. He spent a few seconds preparing Ianto and slicking himself up before just thrusting in, groaning. Oh, fuck..."

Ianto moaned softly. "Oh god, Jack," he groaned, resting his head on the desk. Jack wasted no time, working them both quickly, pounding into Ianto like they'd never do this again. Ianto moaned loudly as Jack hit his prostate, calling his lover's name loudly.

"You like that, huh? Like it rough, do you babe?" Jack lowered himself so that he pressed Ianto to the desk, kissing his lover's shoulders through his shirt. The immortal could feel them hurtling toward the edge, reaching around and tugging on Ianto's cock, stroking it in time with his own thrusts. Ianto swore loudly. "I-I'm going to..." he panted, having trouble finding his words.

"With me, just let go."

Ianto nodded, laying his head on the desk and crying out loudly as he came. He felt pleasure rock his whole body as he called Jack's name.

That did it for Jack. Biting Ianto's shoulder, he buried himself in his subordinate, moaning very loudly and tonguing the damp shirt in his mouth. Ianto panted, reaching up behind him to cradle Jack's head on his shoulder as he came down from his orgasm. Jack leaned into Ianto's caress for a long moment to catch his breath. Slipping out, Jack grabbed a towel from the desk and cleaned them both up, finally turning his lover around to kiss him gently. "I love you, Ianto Jones,"

Ianto stood, meeting his lover's lips, surprised by the declaration. He knew he loved Jack, but never knew the man felt the same. "I love you too," he said softly.

Reluctantly parting, Jack kissed Ianto's cheek. "Fresh coffee and food for everyone, I think. Now we wait."

Ianto nodded, moving to pick up his clothes. "Now we wait."



At the Holmes manor, Sherlock woke up alone. He didn't know where he was  until he looked around and saw his bookshelves. He curled up under the covers, feeling like something was missing... but he couldn't remember what it could possibly be.

Chapter Text

The next few hours passed agonizingly slow. Gwen and Tosh rested against each other, eyes open and glassy, Jack paced, stopping every so often to curse. Ianto, once he was dressed, continuously made coffee for everyone and cleaned the place that was already spotless. As he went to put the cleaning supplies away, he stopped in Jack's office. "You need to calm down, don't let him get to you."

"And how do you propose I do that?" Jack snapped, patience thin. "They should be picking him up any second now. I can't wait to get my hands on that bastard."

"None of us can," Ianto reminded him, setting a cup of coffee down for Jack and straightening his tie for the fiftieth time. Jack sighed, cupping Ianto's face in his hands and kissing him, strongly tasting of coffee. "I know."

"Okay, time to get ready for our little guest," Ianto said, putting on a smile. Jack smiled back; it didn't reach his eyes. "Indeed. Let's go teach this asshole a thing or two."
Ianto nodded, "I'll see you soon," he promised, giving Jack another quick kiss before heading up to the tourist shop so he could allow their visitor into the Hub. Jack headed down to the cells; the other members were at attention, tense and ready. Ianto came down soon after with two members of UNIT supporting a figure between them. Ianto displayed no emotion as the UNIT team members sat the handcuffed man in a chair, removing the cuffs and securing him. They silently excused themselves, and Mr. Holmes was left alone with the Torchwood team.

Jack glanced at the team, and they all nodded back. Showtime. He stepped forward and removed the bag from the man's head, revealing the angry, snarling face of Mr. Holmes.

"What the hell is going on here?!" the man shouted, recognition flooding his face when he saw  Jack. "You." He glared up at the man in the long coat.

"Yeah, me," Jack snarled, backhanding him. "I was kind enough to return your son after he ran away but not before hearing some interesting stories about you, Mr. Holmes."

"What did that freak tell you?" the man asked, seething. Ianto nearly lost it, controlling himself because he knew that Jack wanted the first punch He looked up at his teammates, his pale, Welsh  face red and angry.

WHAMCRUNCH! Jack shook his knuckles, cursing, Mr. Holmes' nose effectively broken. "Don't you ever call Sherlock that again! Your boy is brilliant, special, a true rarity in this world, and you belittle him? Torment him?" He turned to the team. "Who wants the next go?"

Ianto walked over to the man, landing a very satisfying blow on his jaw. The Welshman shook his hand out. "Much better," he sighed. Gwen kicked the side of his face, the toe of her boot slicing the skin open, and Tosh pulled out a contraption and shot him in the arm. "Nerve stimulant," she explained when Jack gave her a look. "Owen?"

Owen nodded, Placing a kick to the center of the man's chest, making the chair fall backwards. "Fucking scumbag," he muttered. Jack walked over to the man, crouching by his head. "You see, we don't like what you've done to your son, so we're going to make you very, very sorry you ever decided to hurt the boy."

Mr. Holmes glared up at him. "His mother is dying. He'll be taken away from her," he said, trying to make them feel guilty. His voice was weak and breathy, clearly full of pain.

"Yes he will, and he'll be placed with another, kinder, more supporting family. He'll even get to say goodbye. Somehow, I didn't get the impression that your disappearance would be a big loss for him." Jack stood up. "Make him scream, Owen."

Owen nodded, cracking his knuckles. "With pleasure," he seethed, walking over to the man. He put a foot over where he had broken the man's ribs, slowly pressing down on it. Mr. Holmes screamed, the sound ripped from his mouth as bones crunched. Jack glanced at Ianto, seeing the satisfied smile on his lover's face. "Give him a hand."

Ianto walked forward, placing his foot next to Owen's and pressing down. "You make me sick," he said through gritted teeth, his normally peaceful face filled with hate and anger. Gwen cringed at the screams, her stomach rolling. She glanced at Tosh who had a similar expression on her face. "Jack, can we change it up? Do something different? Tosh and I are-we need this to change."

Jack looked at her then back at Sherlock's father where he was writhing on the ground. "Stop! Exam table, now."

Ianto and Owen reluctantly stepped back. They both undid the bonds that bound Mr. Holmes to the chair and grabbed the man under his arms, dragging him to the table; Jack helped them strap him down. "Now, are you going to tell us why you did what you did to Sherlock?" His voice was low and very dangerous. The man looked up at him spitefully. "Because he deserved it," Mr. Holmes growled, but his voice sounded weak and pathetic from pain.

"Wrong answer," growled Jack. He nodded at Owen. Owen brought an elbow down on the man's gut, forcing the breath from his body and making him gasp for air.

"Gonna rethink your answer?"

The man looked up at them, his eyes swimming with pain. He didn't speak.

"Not so nice when you're on the receiving end of your own medicine, is it? Pretend I'm your father. You come home from school, proud of a grade or a project, and when you expect praise, you get the back of a hand, a boot to the stomach, insults and names for years until you just want to crawl in a hole and die, when the mention of going home is so terrible that you'd rather run away with a very dangerous group of people because it is safer in your mind than staying home and facing your father?"

Again the man just stared at them. He was in too much pain to speak, and he wouldn't satisfy Jack with answers anymore; he could just keep wondering forever. Ianto turned away, unable to look at the man anymore, the thought of what he had done to his own son made the coffee boy want to be sick.

"You aren't worth the air in your lungs," Jack hissed. He looked at the group. "Gun? Injection? Break his neck?" He glanced at Ianto a second longer than the rest. Ianto shrugged. "Something slow." His eyes looked murderous. The others were nodding in agreement. Something slow...

"Owen, do you still have the acid drip?"

Mr. Holmes's eyes widened and he struggled frantically against his bindings. Owen nodded, going down to storage to look for the device.

"You wanted to inflict pain? Well, now you're gonna feel it."

Owen returned with a sinister looking thing and a large container of liquid. "Stand back," he commanded. Everyone backed up several feet, eyeing the device warily. Owen hung the drip from the ceiling, before putting on some gloves and pouring the liquid into the mouth. "Anybody squeamish?" he asked as the liquid began to make its way slowly down the tube.

Tosh nodded, and Gwen took her in her arms, holding her. She shut her eyes as well, turning away; this was not something she'd ever wanted to see. Jack stood there stone-faced, holding Ianto's hand. Ianto watched as the first drops left the tube, his grip on Jack's hand tightening as the flesh sizzled and burned. Screams pierced the air, and Jack didn't look away; he couldn't. Each drop was another way of getting revenge for every time the bastard had hurt Sherlock, the poor boy. "More, Owen. Right on the broken ribs."

Owen nodded, moving the end of the drip to hang right over the ribs. Ianto watched for a long time, but as the acid began to reach the bone, he felt sick again. He turned, burying his head in Jack's shoulder.

"Hands, Owen." Jack wrapped his arms around Ianto, stroking the Welshman's head. "Hang in there, love," he whispered.

Owen moved the drip again, watching as the acid bore through the man's hand. Ianto shook his head in Jack's shoulder. "I can't watch anymore," he murmured.

"Get his cock, Owen and then dump the rest on him. Make him dissolve." Jack led Ianto from the cell block, Gwen and Tosh following. Ianto allowed himself to be led, wincing as he heard the screams grow even louder and then disappear completely.  Jack held on tight as Ianto began sobbing into his shoulder. "It's okay, shhhh, it's okay, love. Ianto, did-did something like this happen to you?"

Ianto nodded. His shoulders were shaking as he clung to Jack's coat. Jack held him tight, refusing to let go. "You're safe now, I promise you...well, as safe as it ever gets around here. He's gone. He can't hurt you or Sherlock anymore."

Ianto nodded, but he couldn't stop himself from sobbing. Memories flooded back to him all at once, invading his mind and destroying barriers that hadn't been touched in years.

"Tell me. Talk it out." Jack took Ianto back to his office, shutting the door and sinking to the floor. Ianto sat down with Jack, resting his head on the man's chest. "I was a kid, and, there was this group of teenagers," he started. "I was so small, and they..." He closed his eyes taking a deep breath.

"Go on. I'm right here."

"They took me into the woods and held me down." Tears came to his eyes. "And they did things to me," he whispered. "They said I was worthless."

Jack's breath caught in his throat. "You are anything but worthless. Did they do anything else?"

He nodded, tears streaming down his face. He couldn't bring himself to say the word.

"I love you Ianto, nothing changes that. Did- did they rape you?"

He nodded again, burying his face in Jack's chest. "I was so small," he repeated.

Jack held him in silence for a few minutes before he started kissing Ianto. It started just on the top of his head, but soon Jack was kissing every inch of Ianto's face he could reach, finally making it to his lips, whispering things like "Strong" and "gorgeous" and "love" with each caress, trying to show Ianto just how much he meant to the immortal. Ianto was crying. "I love you so much," he whispered.

"I know. I know, and I'm going to do everything I can to keep you safe. I promise."

Ianto nodded, just letting himself be held. He had never told anybody before, and he felt so vulnerable. Jack held the man until he relaxed before scooping him him up and taking him to his bunker, setting his lover down on the immortal's cot and pulling the blankets up. "Sleep, love," he whispered. Ianto nodded, curling up under the blankets and closing his eyes; he felt drained. There were still tears falling down his cheeks as he drifted off, dampening the pillow under his head.


Owen came up from the cell block, looking somber. "Taken care of," he said.

"Good. Ianto has the day off, so you all will take turns in the shop. Tosh, what is Sherlock's status?"

Tosh ran to the computer, looking. "He's at school now, but UNIT- they just picked him up. He's going back to get his things and then he's off to London."

Owen nodded sadly. "Good. What's up with Ianto?" Owen asked, having been busy dissolving a man when the whole thing happened.

"Needed some rest, extenuating circumstances. Now, what is the status of the cell?"

"Well, not too bad since the acid pretty much cleaned everything away. Shouldn't take too long to clean," Owen reported.


Several hours later, Owen emerged from the cell block having scrubbed every inch of all the cells and returned the acid drip to storage. "He there yet?" the doctor asked, walking over to stand behind Tosh at her computer.

"Yep. Arrived ten minutes ago. UNIT's just leaving now." Tosh worked very hard to keep her breathing steady with Owen so close, glad he couldn't really see her blushing.

Owen patted Tosh on the shoulder. "You did good, Tosh, you gave him a fighting chance," he told her with a smile. Tosh smiled back, fully blushing now. God, why is his smile so adorable? "D'you really think so?"

Owen looked at her, trying to ignore the blush because he knew it probably didn't mean anything and responded "Of course I do, he'll get to be with other kids in a good family, it's good," he assured her. Owen is proud of me, Tosh thought, fighting the urge to freeze. "How'd you like to get a drink after work," she blurted out. Owen was taken aback by the question. "Uh, sure, Tosh, yeah," he replied after a moment.

"Great." Act natural, not like you want him to kiss the pants off you right now. "Yeah, cool."

"Okay. I'll see you later," Owen said, leaving the platform, his footsteps a bit lighter. 

Gwen went over to Tosh. "Finally asked Owen out?" she whispered. Tosh grinned. "Maybe."

Gwen hugged her. "Ah! That's excellent. I'm just hoping I'll get to see Rhys tonight."


Ianto stirred in his sleep, mumbling softly as his dreams shifted and turned.  Jack was sitting in his office when he heard Ianto start yelling. He dashed to the bunker, flying to the Welshman as the man thrashed. "Ianto? Ianto! wake up!"

Ianto jerked up from his sleep. "Oh, Jack. Sorry," he apologized, sitting up and running a hand through his hair. "I was just dreaming."

"Don't apologize; I thought someone was murdering you for a second." Jack stroked Ianto's hair, kissing his forehead. Ianto smiled. "Don't worry so much," he said, brushing Jack's cheek with his fingertips.

"It's my job to worry, love." Jack kissed his lover gently. "You feeling any better?"

"I can go back up, I don't want to be useless all day," Ianto told him, standing and fixing his suit.

"Only if you feel you're ready." Jack helped him tuck in his shirt, fix his tie and jacket.

"I'm ready," Ianto said, leaning in to peck Jack on the lips. "Thank you." He headed out of the bunker, relieved that the mess in the cell block had been taken care of.  Jack followed him up, looking around at the Hub. "Status of the boy?"

"Safe at the Watson household," Tosh, Gwen, and Owen answered.

"Good." Ianto said. Now this could be over. The boy would be happy and hopefully so would everybody else in time. 

"All right, so the rift has been fairly quiet today, no new Weevil sightings or warnings, and we dispatched a very dangerous man. I say we all take a few hours off. Ianto, I'm taking you for dinner. Everyone else, we meet back here at twenty-three hundred for a night shift." Jack swept Ianto from the hub.

Chapter Text

"All right, so the rift has been fairly quiet today, no new Weevil sightings or warnings, and we dispatched a very dangerous man. I say we all take a few hours off. Ianto, I'm taking you for dinner. Everyone else, we meet back here at twenty-three hundred hours for a night shift."

Gwen called Rhys as soon as Jack finished speaking "Surprise! I'm coming home for a few hours, love."

"Great!" her husband responded happily. "Finally got a break?"

"Yep! I have to be back for the night shift at eleven, but that gives us plenty of time."

"It certainly does. See you soon?"

"Give me ten minutes before I knock on the door, and then you can sweep me off my feet," Gwen giggled. "Love you."

"Love you too."

Gwen hummed to herself as she left the hub, locking up behind her. Jumping in the car, she sped off home, making it there a full thirty seconds earlier than she'd told Rhys. She bounded up the stairs, fiddling with the key for a few seconds before managing to get the door open.

"Somebody's early," he said, grinning at her and pulling her inside.

"Oh shut up and kiss me," Gwen purred, kicking the door shut behind her.

Rhys obliged, leaning down to kiss Gwen and wrapping his arms around her waist. She jumped up, hooking her legs around husband's hips and kissing him like there was no tomorrow. They moved to the couch without breaking the kiss. Gwen pressed against Rhys as he settled over her, tugging at the buttons on his shirt until she was running her hands over his bare chest, making Rhys moan as he cast the shirt aside. Reaching behind her, deft fingers unhooked her bra, Gwen relaxing visibly as the bra ceased to dig into her skin. She knew she would never tire of Rhys's face when he looked at her like this. She stroked hair back from his forehead, smiling. "I love you."

"I love you too, Gwen," he said. Gwen pulled him in for another kiss, hungry and needy, pressing up against him. "I want you," she whispered. Rhys kissed back passionately, letting her know he wanted her too.

"Take me now," Gwen moaned into Rhys's mouth. "Make me scream for you, darling."

Rhys kissed his way down her stomach to her jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping them, his lovely wife whining and arching her back so that he could slide the fabric off, removing her knickers as well. "Look at you," he whispered. Gwen propped herself up on her elbows, looking at Rhys. "Pants off. Now."

Rhys nodded obediently, hopping up to pull off his trousers.  Gwen loved the sight of Rhys naked. She smirked up at him as he stood over her. "I want you inside me, love," she purred, laying back against the cushions. Rhys obliged, positioning himself on top of her on the sofa and entering, moaning slightly. Gwen gasped, biting her lip. "Oh, God, Rhys," she moaned, slowly rocking against her husband.

Rhys set a rhythm, thrusting in, groaning at the warmth surrounding him. Gwen's breath quickly started to come in pants; they hadn't done this in what felt like months, but had probably been about a week. "Oh God, yes!" she moaned, hands stroking Rhys's head.

Rhys quickened his pace, responding to Gwen's cries with his own. "Oh fuck, Gwen." 

"Yes, love, harder, right-ahhhh!" Gwen wasn't going to last long tonight, but if Rhys kept going, he might make her come twice. Rhys continued, pounding into Gwen, bringing himself closer to the brink.

"Harder- faster- right- there- RHYS!" Gwen shrieked as she climaxed, body clenching around Rhys as he pulled him close to kiss him hard. Rhys cried out as Gwenn clenched around him, collapsing next to her on the sofa. He kissed her softly. "Wow," he panted.

"Perfect," she whispered, kissing his nose and snuggling close. "Want to have dinner while I'm here?"

"Sure, I can whip something up," Rhys offered, but not moving. Gwen raised an eyebrow. "Takeaway?"

Rhys nodded, rolling slowly off the couch and onto the floor with a thud before getting up to call the restaurant. "What're you in the mood for?" he asked.

"Pizza's fine. Or we could get a Chinese."

"Pizza it is," Rhys said, picking up the phone and dialing in the order. Gwen rose and came up behind him, hugging him around the middle as he ordered the food. Rhys finished ordering and hung up the phone, turning back to Gwen with a smile. Gwen leaned up and kissed him. "God, I wish work didn't get in the way so much. I miss spending time with you."

"Bloody Torchwood," Rhys chuckled, wrapping his arms around her waist again.

"You can say that again," Gwen grinned, kissing Rhys again.

"Food'll be here soon" Rhys said, "unless you want to answer the door naked." 

Gwen giggled and turned, scooping up her clothes from the various places they fallen. Rhys got himself dressed, cleaning off the sofa so they could sit down. Dressed once more, Gwen crawled up next to Rhys and snuggled close, happy to just be near him. Rhys draped an arm around Gwen, pulling her closer. "I'm glad you finally got a break." 

"Oh, me too, you have no idea. What have you been up to while I've been running around saving the world?"

Rhys chuckled. "Making deliveries and watching telly mostly."

"God, that sounds like a dream. I'm exhausted."

"You know it's a hell of a  job when driving trucks sounds relaxing."

Gwen punched him gently. "Try chasing aliens all over Whales."

"I'd rather not, thanks," Rhys laughed. "We've already got one person saving the planet all the time."

Gwen kissed him as the doorbell rang. "I'll get it," she laughed, grabbing her purse and going to the door and paying for the pizza. Rhys got up and went over to the table to eat. "Smells great," he said.

Gwen shot him a grin, serving them each two slices and grabbing two beers from the fridge. Rhys took a beer, sitting down to a slice of pizza. "To a night off," he toasted, holding the bottle up to her. Gwen raised her drink. "A night off." She dug in, famished.

Rhys followed after her, digging into his slice; he was starving. "So what did you do today? At work, I mean?" he asked in between bites.

"The weevils were acting up again, and we chased one all the way out into the country to this boy's house. He wound up coming back to the hub with us... but we- we had to retcon him." She busied herself with her food, not wanting to think about the rest of the day.

"I'm sorry," Rhys said. "I know you hate having to do that to people, 'specially kids." He looked up sympathetically at her. Gwen nodded, making a decision. "His father abused him, beat him... so we- we took care of him, sending Sherlock to London with a lovely foster family. He'll never know. His mother is dying too, so..." She trailed off, hit by the enormity of what had happened that day.

Rhys's eyes widened. "My god, poor thing. I'm so proud of you." He said, leaning over the table to kiss her. "You did a good thing for that boy."

Gwen blinked, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes. "His father was horrible, and his death was... horrible."

Rhys reached his hand over the table to take Gwen's. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want, but I'll listen if you do."

"We tortured him, broke him, then we- we- we dissolved him. The acid drip."

"Don't be upset, it's horrible but it sounds like he deserved it," Rhys told her, trying to make her feel better. "The man was beating a child."

"I know, I know." Gwen puller her chair around the table so Rhys could hold her. "It was just so awful."

He pulled her into a hug, rubbing her back. "It's okay. I understand why you're upset."

Gwen wrapped her arms around Rhys, seeking comfort; he hugged her tight, determined not to let go until she was happy again. Just being there in Rhys's arms made everything better somehow, the brutal torture and murder more distant, less horrific. Gwen was almost asleep until her stomach gave a huge rumble. Rhys chuckled. "You need more food," he said, patting her shoulder.

Gwen blushed. "I suppose I do," She retrieved her plate and came back to sit next to her hubby.

"Eat up," Rhys commanded, "Can't fight aliens on an empty stomach."

That made Gwen laugh, almost spraying her beer out her nose. Rhys chuckled in response. "There's that smile, beautiful," he said.

Gwen elbowed him. "I love you, you big idiot," she sighed, feeling better.

"I love you, too," he said, kissing her on the forehead. They ate in silence for a while, Gwen continuing to lean against Rhys until they'd finished the entire pie.

"I'm full," Rhys said as he finished his last piece. "How about you?"

Gwen nodded, checking her watch and setting the alarm. "Telly and a nap?"

"Sounds good," Rhys said, moving to the couch and picking up the remote. Gwen settled next to Rhys and was asleep in seconds, knowing her alarm would wake her with plenty of time. Rhys fell asleep shortly after her, breathing evening. Soon it would be time for Gwen to return to Torchwood, but he had enjoyed the time he had with her; he always did.

Chapter Text

"All right, so the rift has been fairly quiet today, no new Weevil sightings or warnings, and we dispatched a very dangerous man. I say we all take a few hours off. Ianto, I'm taking you for dinner. Everyone else, we meet back here at 2300 for a night shift." Jack swept Ianto from the hub.


Ianto followed his lover, glad to spend some time with him outside of the Hub for once. Jack took Ianto to one of his favorite restaurants, just around the corner. "Anything on the menu, anything you want."


The Welshman nodded, but he still ordered lightly because he always felt odd taking money from people; plus he was more interested in spending time with Jack than eating. The immortal ordered his food and a large bottle of wine for them to share. The wine arrived first, and he poured them rather large glasses; Ianto took a sip and looked into Jack's eyes for a moment, not saying anything. "What are you thinking about?" he asked; he could never figure the man out completely.


"I'm thinking about you, how gorgeous your lips are, and I suppose I'm thinking about Sherlock. I only hope the boy will be fine." Jack downed half his glass, refilling it quickly.


"He will be," Ianto assured him, reaching across the table to take Jack's hand.  Jack squeezed back, the touch very relaxing. "Is it awful that I want to snog you senseless right now?"


"I wouldn't complain," Ianto smirked.


"Scoot around here, then. You're so far away." Jack grinned, pulling Ianto around the table, happy there were in a semi-secluded booth in the corner. "Much better," he whispered, tilting Ianto's chin up to kiss him. Ianto kissed Jack happily; it felt so ordinary, dinner, wine, kissing, and no aliens or horrible things happening around them, a welcome change of pace. Jack deepened the kiss, humming softly as he stroked Ianto's face, pulling his lover just a bit closer.


"I really love kissing you," Jack murmured, licking Ianto's lips before kissing him hard again.


"Mutual." Ianto managed before Jack crashed back down on his lips. He parted them slightly, forgetting they were in public and only focusing on the man in front of him. Jack grinned, one hand caressing Ianto's cheek, the other holding the Welshman's head in place.


Ianto heard somebody clear their throat. The waiter. Oops. He looked up, flushing slightly and turning back to face forward, but not completely, still close to Jack.


"Your food," the waiter said, clearly disapproving.


"Just set it down here, thanks," Jack replied as he pointed to the space in front of him, winking at the man. Leaning forward so that his lips just brushed his lover's ear, he whispered, "How about we take the food to go?"


Ianto chuckled. "Sounds good," he said, shivering at Jack's voice. "I still have my stopwatch, just in case," he told him.


Jack felt his trousers start to grow tight, and he called the waiter over, making up a story about a previous engagement they were late for. The food was promptly packed and the bill paid as Jack led Ianto from the restaurant, back to the Hub. Ianto nearly jumped over the counter of the tourist shop in his eagerness, hitting the button to let them in quickly. Jack chuckled, following his lover back to the bunker. "Shall you top or shall I, love?"


Ianto turned to Jack. "You. I like it when you take charge," he purred as they reached the bunker, laying back on the bed and waiting for his lover. Jack raised an eyebrow, slipping out of his coat and dropping his suspenders before sauntering over to stand next to the bed. He reached down to stroke Ianto's cheek. "Undo my pants," he said.


Ianto did as he was told, unbuttoning Jack's trousers. He leaned up and pulled the zipper down with his teeth. Jack hissed, Oooooh, he's good. When they were undone, Jack dropped his pants and boxers, nudging his cock against Ianto's lips. "You know what to do, darling," he whispered.


Ianto flicked his tongue out, teasing the tip of Jack's cock before taking it in his mouth again, sucking gently. Jack groaned, hands fisting in Ianto's hair. "Yeah, right-ooooooooh!"


Ianto continued, placing his hands on Jack's hips to keep him from bucking and making the man gag; Jack forced himself to remain still until he couldn't stand it. Pulling out, he yanked Ianto to his feet and kissed him, ravishing his mouth as he pulled at the younger man's clothes. Ianto kissed back, shedding his Jacket and tie  quickly and moving to unbutton his shirt. He moaned softly into the immortal's mouth.


As soon as the Welshman was stripped, Jack shoved him onto the bed, crawling on top of him. They continued to kiss, locked in a hot snog, gently grinding against each other; Ianto moaned at the friction, arching his spine so his chest pressed against Jack's. "J-Jack," he groaned, his eyelids fluttering.


"Beg for it, love."


"Jack, please." Ianto whimpered, his breathing ragged. Grabbing the bottle of lube from the floor, Jack slicked himself up quickly; kissing Ianto with abandon, Jack slid in, slowly as he hadn't prepped his lover, making sure Ianto could take it. Ianto groaned as Jack entered him. It was a bit uncomfortable, but he would adjust quickly. "Ungh, Jack..." he moaned.


Jack broke the kiss to suck on Ianto's earlobe, slowly pulling out and thrusting back in. "Oh, fuck it all, Jesus, Ianto!"


Ianto moaned loudly this time, silently thankful that nobody was around. "Oh god," he whimpered, his lover angling himself and trying to find just the right spot, there. "Oh fuck, Jack!" he cried out. Jack was moving faster now, driving into Ianto without hesitation, sucking on his neck until he left a dark bruise.


"Ohhh, Jack right there, yes! Fuck!" Ianto called out as Jack ravished his body. He was close. "Almost there," he panted.


"Come for me, darling, Ianto, love." Jack reached down and stroked Ianto in time with his thrusts, knowing all Ianto had to do was start and Jack would be finished. His lover obliged, shouting Jack's name as he came, orgasm rocketing through his body. Jack buried himself in Ianto as he rode out his own orgasm, whimpering his lover's name against his sweaty chest. They lay there for a long time, not moving as they reveled in the post-coital haze.


"God, I could do that all day," Ianto panted as he came back to Earth, snuggling against Jack as they lay there. Jack chuckled, rolling off Ianto in favor of snuggling the man to his chest. "So could I. You're bloody amazing."


"You weren't so bad yourself," Ianto purred, placing his hands on Jack's chest. The Captain stroked Ianto's short hair, kissing his forehead. "Thanks, love, The things you do to me..." He trailed off, lost in thoughts of the two of them. Ianto rested his head on his lover's chest, spacing out for a few minutes and staring at the wall in thought.


"Whatcha thinking about, love?"


"You," Ianto told him. "Just thinking."


"What about me? How dead sexy I am?" Jack teased, "Or something else?"


"You're immortal," Ianto replied. "And as I get older, if by some miracle I live to grow old, you aren't going to want to be with me anymore." 


Jack felt his heart constrict. He propped himself up next to the man. "Look at me," he whispered. Ianto sat up, looking into Jack's eyes, his own expression pained.


"I didn't choose this. Hell, if I could, I'd give it up right now. I hate knowing I'll live forever, regardless of when it comes in handy. But I would give up everything, and I do mean everything, if it meant I could have a normal life with you. Christ, Ianto, do you have any idea how much I love you? Even though I don't say it that much, didn't really say it until today?"


Ianto nodded. "I know it isn't your fault. I just, I don't want you to forget me," he told him.


"What makes you think I could ever-would ever forget you?" Jack pulled Ianto in for a kiss, a long, deep, wonderful kiss. He held the younger man close to his chest after, cradling him and kissing his head.


"Because you've already lived a thousand life times and you'll live thousands more. I'm just a blip in time for you," Ianto murmured. "But I'll enjoy it while I can."


"You'll always be more than a blip in time for me, love. If I could find a way to keep you with me until I died for good, I would."


"Thank you," Ianto said, curling his fingers against Jack's chest. "I needed that."


"Of course." Jack lifted Ianto's fingers to his lips, kissing each one in turn before kissing the palm, tracing the creases in the skin lightly with his tongue. Ianto smiled, closing his eyes at the sweet gesture.


"I love you, Jack," he  murmured. He wished it could always be like this, laying in bed, talking, kissing.


"And I you," Jack purred, kissing Ianto's palm as if he were making out with it, his lips moving to the Welshman's wrist. Ianto moaned softly as Jack's lips touched the sensitive skin. Jack offered his own wrist to Ianto, begging with his eyes. Ianto took it, kissing it before biting down on the skin gently.


Jack groaned. "Fuck it all, Ianto." He let his lover work his wrist, fighting every urge he had to move.


Ianto grinned into the skin at the sounds he elicited from the man. He bit down a little harder before licking the red mark to soothe it.  Jack mirrored Ianto's motions, teeth grazing his wrist before he slowly kissed his way up Ianto's arm. Ianto moaned, following Jack's lead and kissing up the man's arm to meet him in the middle.


They reached the crooks of each others' arms at the same time, lips wandering together in a perfect, sweet kiss. Ianto smiled into it, enjoying spending this precious time with Jack. They would have to get back to work in a few hours, so they could enjoy each other's company for the time being. They snogged for a long time, possibly hours; Jack just lost track of the time after a while. He could spend the rest of his life like this.


Ianto reached his hands up, running them through Jack's hair. His lover finally broke the kiss only to start sucking on the tender spot on Ianto's neck. Ianto whimpered beneath the Captain's touch, "Oh god Jack you know what that does to me," he murmured.


Jack hummed against Ianto's throat, sending vibrations from his body to his lover's, making Ianto squirm. "Oh god, you're awful," he chuckled breathily, not actually trying to stop him.


"Then do something about it," Jack purred, licking a trail up to Ianto's ear.


He put his hands on Jack's chest, pushing and rolling over so that he was on top of Jack, straddling his hips. They were still naked, and he moaned a bit as they rubbed against each other. Jack got hard fast, grinning up naughtily at Ianto. "What are you going to do with me, sexy?"


Ianto grinned and leaned down, sucking on a spot just behind Jack's ear that he knew drove the man wild. Jack whimpered, going stiff for a minute before relaxing into Ianto's embrace. "Oh, fuck me," he groaned, rubbing Ianto's back.


"With pleasure," Ianto said with a smirk. He was always a bit iffy topping, but he did his best. Jack pried Ianto off his neck and kissed him. "You are amazing," he whispered, staring into Ianto's eyes before ravishing the man's mouth once more.


Ianto moaned into Jack's mouth, grinding his hips downward to meet Jack's. Jack thrust up, knowing he wouldn't last too long this time. "Quick, love," he whispered.


Ianto nodded. "What do you want me to do?" he asked, wanting to make sure Jack got as much out of this as possible.


"Whatever you want. I'm not long for it; you do too much to me already."


"Same here." Ianto said. He decided to lean down again, propping himself on his elbows on either side of Jack's head. He ground their hips together, moaning softly against Jack's mouth.


The slow, torturous burn nearly sent Jack right off. "Jesus Christ," he groaned, tilting his head back. Ianto smiled, continuing the motion. He would slowly grind his hips downward, arching his back slightly. Jack was panting already; he could feel Ianto's breath just on his neck, his cock dripping and aching. "God, faster, I need you," he whimpered, at the mercy of his lover.


Ianto nodded, moving faster, his breathing was ragged as he leaned his head in, sucking on the spot behind Jack's ear again. Jack couldn't breathe; there was only Ianto, there would only ever be Ianto as long as he could make this last. With a shudder and a cry, he came, back arching up, his chest hitting his lover's. Ianto's hips bucked and he came shortly after, leaning down and biting into Jack's shoulder firmly enough to be felt, but not hurt.


Jack chuckled weakly, gasping for breath. "Fucking hell, Ianto."


Ianto grinned as he collapsed next to Jack for the second time. "Language, Jack," he teased again like he had earlier that day. Jack growled playfully, tugging his blankets up over them. "You're a tease and God help me, I love you to death."


"I love you too, Jack," Ianto replied, curling up against Jack's body for warmth. The immortal set his alarm. "Sleep. I'll protect you," he whispered. Ianto smirked. "Whatever you say, Captain," he told him, closing his eyes.


Jack waited until Ianto was asleep, his breathing even. "I wish I could change what I am for you," he murmured against the Welshman's hair. "I'd do it in a second if it meant I got to spend the rest of my life with you."

Chapter Text

Sherlock was sitting in class when the strange men arrived and took the very scared and confused child, away from his school.


"Don't worry, son. Everything's going to be ok. We're taking you home to get your things and to say goodbye, and then you're leaving that place."


"But what about mummy?!" the boy shouted. "I don't want to leave mummy!" Why were they trying to take him away from her?


"Your mummy is going to go to a hospital where she can get the care she needs, and your father has had to go away. Don't worry. Everything is going to be fine."


"Will I see her again?" the boy asked.


"Yes." UNIT took Sherlock home and helped him pack and let him say goodbye to his mummy before spiriting him away to London, to the home of one David and Anne Watson and their children, Harry and John.


Sherlock had made sure to crawl under his bed and grab his little violin before he left. When he arrived at the home in London, he said nothing. He just stood in the living room while the adults talked and looked the place over. A small, shy blonde boy came over to the new kid and stuck out his hand. "I'm John Watson," he said. "Who're you?"


Sherlock ignored the hand. "Sherlock Holmes," he murmured, holding the violin case close to his chest for comfort. John dropped the hand, standing awkwardly. "I-I hope you like it here. I'd love to be your friend."


Sherlock nodded. "Where do I sleep?" he asked, wanting to settle in his own space.


"You'll be sharing with me! I have bunk beds and a big room. There's plenty of space for your stuff."


Sherlock nodded. "Okay." He stared at the floor. He had been taken away from his mummy, and now he had to share a room with a boy he didn't know, and on top of all that he had forgotten a good portion of the previous day for no reason. John reached out and gently took the boy's hand. "I know it's scary at first, but it's not that bad. C'mon, I'll show you our room."


Sherlock looked up and followed John upstairs. "The soldiers said you had a sister?" he asked, referring to UNIT in the only way he could think of.


"Yeah, Harry. She's ok I guess, but she's not the nicest of sisters. We fight a lot. She's mean to me." John pushed open a door at the end of the hall. "Here it is!"


Sherlock looked around; it seemed spacious enough, he would have room for his things, and he could put his books on the shelf. "Which bed is mine?" he asked.


"You can pick. Mummy changed the sheets this morning when she found out you were coming. I don't mind."


"I'll go on the top, then," the pale boy decided. He liked climbing and being high up anyway. John nodded "Cool. Now I can catch you if you roll out of bed in the middle of the night."


"Okay," Sherlock said, scrambling up the ladder to the top. He put his violin case down gently on the mattress. "I hope you don't mind if I play sometimes," he remarked, not that John minding would have stopped him from doing it anyway.


"Nope! I like music. What else d'you want me t'know about you?"


"I don't sleep a lot or eat. And I like to do experiments." Sherlock said.


"I eat lots, and I go on my computer. I read sometimes, and I play outside!" John replied.


"What kind of stories do you like? I have all kinds of books," Sherlock told him, peering over the edge of his bed down at John.


"Adventure stories, hero stories. I like stories about doctors or pirates."


"I love pirates!" the younger boy said, bouncing up and down on the bed.

"Really? So do I. They're the best!" John grinned up at him, hoping they'd be friends.


Sherlock smiled for the first time he could remember in a long while and looked down at the boy. "That's great! So we can play Pirates together now!"

"I'd love that! You can be the Captain if you want."


"Captain..." Sherlock thought for a moment. A Captain? Like on a pirate ship? That sounded so familiar. He shook his head and snapped out of his daze. "I'd like that," he said.


"Let's go!" John jumped up and ran to the door. "We got a huge backyard for adventures!"

Sherlock jumped down from the top bunk nimbly, following John. "Okay!" he said.




John led Sherlock to the backyard. "That's the garden-" he pointed to the flowerbeds, "-and that's the tree house. That can be our ship!"


"I always wanted a tree house," Sherlock said, running over to it. "So cool."

"You like it? My daddy helped me build it. Go on up!"


Sherlock smiled, climbing up the ladder carefully so he wouldn't fall. "Wow," he breathed as he reached the landing. John clambered up after him. "It's really cool, right Captain Sherlock?"


Sherlock did a little salute. "Amazing," he confirmed.


"I think you're amazing, Sherlock." John was enthralled by the new boy, how clearly bright and curious and smart he was.


"And you are brilliant, John."


"What makes you say that?" the blonde boy asked, his face flushing slightly with pride.


"Because you're being nice to me and sharing your tree house with me and you don't even know me," Sherlock said. 


"Then let's be brilliant together. Where to, Captain?"


"To the Caribbean! Hoist the sails!" Sherlock shouted, pretending to steer.


"Aye Aye, Captain." John ran around the tree house, pretending to pull ropes, leaning out the window to look. After a few minutes he shouted, "Land ho!"


Sherlock stopped steering and threw the pretend anchor over the side. "Now we can look for treasure!"


"Ok! Do you have a treasure map?"


Sherlock looked around, grabbing a piece of coloring paper from the corner. "Here! Treasure Map!" he exclaimed.


"Perfect. We're here" John grabbed a crayon and drew a square "and the treasure should be here." he drew an x a little ways away. Sherlock nodded "Alright!" he grinned, following John.


John scurried down the ladder, waiting for Sherlock before they set off to follow the map. Sherlock laughed as they ran around the yard, feeling like a normal kid for once. John led Sherlock around the yard, finally stopping next to the flower beds. "It should be here."


"Now we just have to dig it up," Sherlock said with a smile.


"I think we have shovels in the garage. Come on!"


Sherlock nodded, following loyally towards the garage. John punched in the combination and the garage opened. "Here," he said, giving Sherlock a plastic shovel, the kind he could find at the beach. "We can use these."


Sherlock took the little blue shovel. "Cool!" he said, waiting for John to get his and running back towards the flower bed. John skidded to a stop and drew an X on the ground with his shovel. "It shouldn't be buried deep," he said. He couldn't wait to see Sherlock's face when he saw what was really buried there. Sherlock nodded, sticking his little shovel into the dirt.


"Keep going, almost there!" John was having so much fun and was practically jumping up and down with excitement when he heard Sherlock's shovel thunk, the look of surprise on the boy's face absolutely priceless.


Sherlock looked up in surprise. "There's actually treasure here!" he exclaimed; John beamed. "Yep!" he exclaimed happily. "Dig it up, I think you'll like it."


Sherlock did as he was told, digging around the sides until he could pull the 'treasure' out of the flower bed. "What is it?" he asked, opening the lid of the box.


"It's a very special treasure," John answered, kneeling in the dirt beside Sherlock. "I buried it here a few months ago. It-I found it on the riverbank. It's very special."


Sherlock pulled out a blue scarf and unwrapped it to find an arrowhead. "Whoa, I bet that's really old," he said, inspecting the little once-sharp stone that had been dulled by a long time spent on the bed of the river.


"That's what I thought too. I liked it, but I think it looks kind of like you, all dark and shiny."


Sherlock looked at John. "I like that scarf. Where did you get it?" he asked. It didn't look like

anything the Watson family tended to wear based on the jumper and jeans John was wearing.


"You like it? It was a gift from my uncle, and I had to be polite and take it. You want it? I never wear it, it's why it got buried with the treasure."


Sherlock nodded. "Thanks!" he said, putting the scarf around his neck.


"It looks good on you." It really did, hugging the curly haired boy's neck snugly; it a bit long, but Sherlock would grow into it. Sherlock smiled. "Thanks." He said again. He got the feeling this wasn't going to be such a bad arrangement after all. He glanced up at the setting sun, the trees in the yard starting to cast longer and longer shadows. "We should go in soon," he said.


"Yeah, Mummy'll be making dinner. It's pasta night! Come on!" John grabbed Sherlock's hand, tugging the boy after him


Sherlock stumbled after the boy, laughing as they entered the warm household. It smelled like food and felt warm and happy, something Sherlock had never really experienced before.




Dinner was wonderful; Sherlock even smiled and spoke a bit while they ate. Then it was pajamas and brushing teeth, and all too soon, the boys were in bed, being tucked in by John's mummy.


"Thank you, Mrs. Watson," Sherlock whispered to the woman as she tucked them into bed. "and thank you for dinner."


"Of course, sweetheart. I'm really glad you've come to live with us. Sleep tight." She kissed his forehead and left, turning out the light.


"Sherlock," John whispered. "You awake?"


Sherlock sat up on his elbows. "Yeah," he whispered back, leaning over the edge of the bed so his curly dark head appeared over John's bed, upside down.


"I had fun today," John whispered. "I liked playing pirates, and I'm glad you like the scarf. D'you-d'you think we could maybe be friends?"


Sherlock nodded, "Sure," he said. "I don't have any other friends, so that's good."

"Really? No friends? But you're amazing!"


Sherlock looked upside down at John. "Well thanks, but not a lot of people seem to think that."


"Why not? You're really nice and cool and very smart and funny. You like pirates and adventures. You know the violin..."


Sherlock shrugged, "They don't like my deductions, the way I know stuff," he said.


"I think it's the best part about you."


Sherlock eyed the boy oddly, his icy eyes glowing in the darkness of the room. "Thanks." He said, flipping himself right side up again as he had become light-headed.


"Night, Sherlock," John whispered.


"Night, John," Sherlock whispered back, laying down and staring at the ceiling, sleep eluding him as he shed silent tears for his Mummy and his home and his missing memories.

Chapter Text

"All right, so the rift has been fairly quiet today, no new Weevil sightings or warnings, and we dispatched a very dangerous man. I say we all take a few hours off. Ianto, I'm taking you for dinner. Everyone else, we meet back here at 2300 for a night shift." Jack swept Ianto from the hub.


Owen walked over to Tosh. "Still want to go out for drinks?"


"Yes!" Tosh tried not to sound too eager, but Owen was giving her that smile again. The doctor offered his arm to Tosh in a silly gesture as he led her from the Hub. Tosh took it, blushing and grinning; she waved goodbye to Gwen as Owen took her to one of his favorite spots.


Owen brought Tosh up to the bar, sitting and ordering drinks for the two of them. "So, how are you doing, Toshiko?" he asked.


Tosh blushed, mentally kicking herself for it. "I-I'm fine. Bit tired from work and all, but managing. And you?" She looked anywhere but Owen's mouth, finally settling for his eyes.


"Fine, yeah," Owen said. "Long day, wasn't it?"


"Very long. I think it was the lack of sleep and then disintegrating a person that did it. God, you were so brave doing that, Owen. How did you manage it? I couldn't even watch at the end."


"Somebody had to do it," Owen replied quietly. "I mean, I'm not saying I enjoyed it or anything, but the bastard deserved it."


"Yeah, he really did, especially to do all those awful things to a child." Their drinks arrived and Tosh raised hers. To us, she thought "To new beginnings."


"To new beginnings," Owen echoed, clinking his drink against Tosh's. "What made you ask me out today, anyway. Not that I mind or anything." Owen asked.


Tosh almost choked on her drink, turning just a bit pink. "Well, I-I've wanted to for a while now, actually. You don't mind, do you?"


Owen shook his head. "Course not, Tosh. I don't mind at all."


"Really? I thought you might since you're usually just friendly and all, and I'm just the computer genius and you're the medical examiner and-"


Owen looked up at Tosh. "Don't think so much," he chuckled. "All you had to do was ask."


"Oh." Feeling like a complete idiot, Tosh searched for something, anything to say. She took a long sip of her drink, finally starting to relax. She shot Owen a smile, her heart flipping when he returned it. "You're really cute when you do that." Oh God what did I just say?!


He raised an eyebrow. "And you're pretty cute when you blush like that."


As if to emphasize his point, Tosh turned another few shades of pink. "You really think so?"


Owen nodded. "Sure." he said, taking another sip of his drink. She finished her drink in another few sips, watching Owen as he finished his. When he set it down on the bar, she said, "Let's get out of here."


The doctor followed Tosh to the parking lot.  Once they were both in her car, she drove to her apartment, taking him upstairs.


"Nice place," he said, even though he had been there before.


"Thanks." Tosh grinned back at him, setting down her purse and shrugging out of her coat before turning back to Owen. "So, anything you'd like to do? We have a few hours to kill."


Owen shrugged, sitting down on the sofa. "I don't know, whatever you want," he told her. 


Tosh sat next to him, bringing her feet up under her and switching on the telly. After a few moments, she felt Owen shift, his arm coming round behind her and pulling her closer to him as she flicked through the channels. Tosh curled up against Owen's warm embrace, resting her head on his chest; she could hear his heart beating, especially how it was slowly speeding up. He leaned down, kissing the top of Toshiko's head. "This is nice," he told her. Tosh hummed, tilting her head up to look at Owen. "Really?"


"Yeah, it is," he murmured, leaning down to kiss her. Tosh's heart leapt to her throat as her eyes closed and their lips met. She shifted slightly, making it easier to kiss back; his lips were even softer than she'd imagined.


As he kissed Tosh, Owen reached a hand up, brushing her cheek. "See Tosh, all you had to do was ask," he told her with a smile. Owen's fingertips left a fiery trail on her cheek. Then, "Owen, would you-could we-" Tosh swallowed, gathering her thoughts. "Would you take me to bed?"


Owen looked at her for a moment. "Sure, I mean, are you positive you're okay with this?" he asked.


"Owen, I've wanted to ask you that for a very, very long time."


"Okay." Owen grinned mischievously at her before picking her up and carrying her towards the bedroom. Tosh wrapped her arms around Owen's neck, gasping softly when he set her down on the bed and crawled over her. Owen leaned up to meet Tosh's lips, resting his hands on her waist as licked along the seam of her mouth, asking for entrance.


Tosh opened her mouth, shy at first but soon taking everything in stride. Her arms came up to rest on Owen's shoulders, her hands stroking his head. He snaked his tongue into Tosh's mouth, exploring a bit as he began to unbutton his shirt. Tosh moaned into Owen's mouth, feeling his fingers graze her stomach as he worked his own shirt off. She helped push it off his shoulders as her hands went to unbutton his trousers.


Owen groaned as her hands brushed against the bulge in his jeans, unbuttoning them. He reached up under her shirt, his hands roaming across her stomach as he slowly pushed it upwards. Just as his touch on her cheek had burned, so did his fingers on her stomach. She unzipped his fly, hands stroking back up his ribs to cup his face. Owen lifted Tosh's shirt up, pulling it over her head quickly and tossing it to the floor before rejoining their lips.


Tosh pulled Owen back to her hungrily once her shirt was off, all self conscious thoughts gone. "God, Owen," she gasped.


Owen opened his eyes. "Enjoying yourself? he asked. Tosh could see her own lust-filled gaze reflected in Owen's eyes, those eyes she wanted to lose herself in. "Yes," she whispered. "You-you're amazing, Owen."


Owen smirked at her. "I am, aren't I?" he murmured, kissing his way down her chest until he was just above the waistband of her jeans. Owen's smirk made Tosh's pulse skyrocket, his swift kisses making her squirm until he hovered over her jeans. She collapsed into the pillows, arching her back slightly and bringing the fabric closer to his mouth.


He moved his hands up to unbutton Tosh's jeans and pulled the zipper down carefully. Tosh whimpered softly; Owen was taking his sweet time about the whole thing and the suspense was driving her mad. The doctor chuckled, slowly working her jeans down her legs.


"Owen," Tosh gasped. "Oh Jesus-Christ, you fucking tease!"


"Oh but you love it," Owen purred, flashing yet another smile. Once he had her jeans off, he brought himself back up to her lips again. Tosh kissed him hungrily, amazed once more at just how phenomenal he was at everything, kissing especially. God, I waited way too long to do this. Owen reached down between them, rubbing Tosh through her underwear. She could feel her toes curling, her breathing starting to shallow. "Owen," she moaned into his mouth.


That drove Owen wild. He took her knickers by the waistband and pulled them down, working at his own trousers which weren't completely off. "No more teasing," he growled. Tosh smirked at Owen until he was kissing her again, grinding against her enough to make her whine.


"You ready?" Owen asked. "Do you have any, er, protection?" he asked; having come straight from work he didn't have anything on him.


"Side table, top drawer."


Owen nodded, reaching into the drawer and pulling out a condom; he rolled it on quickly before returning to Toshiko. He positioned himself, looking to her for permission. Tosh nodded. "Kiss me."


Owen did, kissing Tosh on the lips as he entered her, moaning against her mouth. Tosh gasped, whimpering and sucking on Owen's lip. "Fuck," she whispered.


Owen began to rock his hips forward and back, setting a slow rhythm, slow and torturously pleasurable. Every nerve in Tosh's body was on fire. This is real, really fucking real, she thought, fascinated by the look of pleasure and desire in Owen's eyes. He continued, speeding up more as he lost himself in the lust. Tosh rocked back, stroking Owen's sides, running her hands through his hair. Owen groaned. "Oh god, Tosh," he moaned, arching his back.


Tosh tightened her grip in his hair. "Harder, Owen, god, make me scream."


Owen was surprised by the request, but didn't hesitate in quickening his pace, pounding into her harder, grunting as he went and making the bed creak. Tosh laughed, her breath catching as the laugh turned into a moan. "Talk to me," she whispered. "Tell me things you want to do to me."


"I don't even know Tosh, I can't think, fuck," Owen panted. "You don't even know what you're doing to me right now."


Tosh nearly came right then. "I've wanted this-for so long-you have no idea-Owen!"


Owen continued, nearly ready to explode. "Tosh-I'm going-to come,"  he panted.


"Do it-fuckinghell-Owen, please!"


Owen released himself, calling out as he came, nearly collapsing on top of her, catching himself on his elbows. Hearing her name on Owen's lips pushed Tosh over the edge. She screamed his name, hands coming up to help catch him, panting hard. shifted so he was on his side next to Tosh. "Wow," he breathed.


"Wow indeed." Tosh was in a state of pure bliss as she slowly rolled to face Owen. "I've wanted to do that-since the first moment I met you," she smiled.


Owen looked at her funny. "Really? I could never tell," he replied; he really wished he had known sooner..


"I was shy...and kind of afraid you wouldn't go for me. You're so fit, you could have anybody you wanted." Tosh blushed, slightly embarrassed. Owen smirked "Not really, I don't know if you noticed, Tosh, but I'm a bit of jerk." He chuckled even though he knew it was true.


"That's just because you keep people at a distance. I think if you let them in, you'd be surprised."


"Maybe," Owen mused. "Thanks, Tosh."


Tosh stroked Owen's face before kissing him again, very tentative and slow. Owen responded, kissing her more lovingly than hungry. Tosh snuggled closer, smiling slightly; Owen was a fucking fantastic kisser. Her lover reached his hand up, stroking the back of Tosh's head as they continued snogging. Tosh purred, more content than she'd felt in a very long time.


"That was nice," Owen said, resting his forehead on Tosh's and catching his breath. 


Tosh smiled. "Yeah," she whispered, dreamily looking up at Owen. "You're really fantastic at that."


"You're not so bad yourself, Toshiko," he said with his trademark smirk. Tosh blushed but didn't look away. "You mean that?"


"I wouldn't have said it if I didn't" Owen told her.


"You want to stay here or do something else until we have to go back?"


"Anything you want, we have a little while," Owen told her. They had an hour or two before it was time to return.


"We could watch telly and snog...or we could go again. We could even take a nap. It really is up to you."


Owen smirked. "You wore me out, Tosh," he told her, "in a very good way."


"Nap it is then." Kissing him once more, she curled up against his chest and was soon asleep. Owen held her, following after.

Chapter Text

Sherlock woke up in the bunk beds that he and John had shared for nine years. He leaned over the edge of the bed, as he always did, his dark  curls hanging above his head. "John, guess what today is," he said to the still sleeping boy.


"ungh-whaaaat?" John yawned.


"John, it's been nine years today," Sherlock told him. The boy had grown much taller, still thin, and his pale skin was almost completely rid of bruises, except for the odd scrape on the knee or arm. Against all odds, the broken little boy had grown into a healthy young man.


Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, John looked up at his best friend. "God, it is!" he said, tumbling onto the floor as he got tangled in the sheets. "Fuck," he swore. "Must've grown again. I swear I'll get my balance back eventually." He grinned up at Sherlock. "Well, are you getting up? We might be late for school if we don't hurry."


Sherlock nodded, sitting up and swinging his long legs over the edge of the bed and hopping down, careful not to step on John. He leaned down to offer a hand. "Come on."


John grinned, taking Sherlock's hand and letting the taller boy pull him up. He gave him a quick hug, a tradition not quite lost from childhood. "Thanks."


"No problem." Sherlock said, grinning and hugging. "Now get out, I'm getting changed." He said, shoving John playfully towards the door.


John laughed, heading for the bathroom.




Ianto looked up from the rift activity monitor. "Jack, there's been a spike near a home in London," he said, looking up. "Why does that name sound familiar?"


Jack walked over and checked, face paling. "Fucking hell." He grabbed his coat, hollering, "GWEN! We gotta go. Ianto, you're driving."


Ianto nodded, jogging towards the exit. "What is it, Jack?" He asked.


"That's the Watson household. That's where we sent Sherlock nine years ago!"


Gwen came running in time to hear the end. "What?!"


Ianto looked up. "Oh my god," he gasped, following Jack out of the Hub, Gwen running behind and locking up as they went. "I'll navigate," she said, jumping in the back of the truck. Ianto hopped in the driver's seat, waiting for Jack and Gwen before speeding off. "This is ridiculous," he said, the odds of this happening were astronomical. 


Jack drummed his fingers on the door as they took off. "How long?"


"Two and a half hours if we observe the limits." Gwen frowned. "I haven't seen the rift this active since-" Since Tosh and Owen died she thought.


"He'll probably be out by the time we get there, he might miss it," Ianto said; if the boy never saw anything, his memory might not be triggered and this could be a quick job, but it didn't look that way. "Any idea what we're dealing with?" he asked.


"If he hasn't left for school, there's no way he'll miss this." Gwen flipped the screen around to show Jack.






Sherlock got dressed, pulling on his clothes for the day, and dragging his fingers through his hair to get out all the big knots before going downstairs to the breakfast table, saying good morning to the family who had been so kind to him, Mrs. Watson kissed him on the top of the head. "Look how big you've gotten." She said that every year. 


John splashed cold water on his face to wake the rest of the way up before running a comb through his hair and starting to shave; after cleaning up his things, he dashed back to their room, threw on jeans and a jumper and grabbed his bag, heading downstairs.


Sherlock grabbed a slice of toast to take with him, since they might be late otherwise and scooped his bag up from beside the door. Suddenly heard shouting outside. Confused and curious, he opened the door, cautiously peeking out.


John came up behind Sherlock. "What's happening?"


The taller boy slammed the door shut and locked it."Don't go out there, everybody go upstairs," he commanded. "Now!" He didn't know what was going on but it was dangerous and he didn't want his family getting hurt. He ran through the house, pulling the curtains shut quickly and locking the doors. 


John caught the tone of Sherlock's voice. "Mum, Dad, Harry! Our room, NOW!" he yelled.




Ianto cursed, putting his foot down on the pedal. This was an emergency.


"I really wish we had a teleport, or that my Vortex manipulator worked!" Jack was panicking.


"How much longer?" Ianto asked impatiently, "People could be dying"


"Hour forty five. How much faster can you go, Ianto?"


"We'll find out" Ianto said, flooring the gas pedal as he weaved in and out of traffic.




Sherlock waited for everybody else to get up the stairs before following, entering their room and dragging the desk in front of the door.


"Sherlock, what's going on?" Mrs. Watson asked.


"Bad things, really bad things, we have to stay here, don't look out the window, they might see you." he sank down to the floor. John shut the curtains and flipped off the lights. "What's wrong," he whispered, kneeling next to Sherlock and holding onto his friend's hand.


"I don't know. There are these things, they're huge." Sherlock said. Claws, teeth, growling. Images flashed through his mind, and he dropped his head into his hands, clutching at his skull.


"Hey, hey," John whispered, wrapping an arm around his friend. "Breathe, it'll be fine. You'll figure something out. We'll figure something out."


"No, John, there's something, something I'm forgetting, it hurts," he whimpered; thoughts were racing through his head and pictures flashed through his mind in rapid succession, giving him a splitting headache.


"What? What's wrong? What can I do?" John was fighting panic, the look of pain on Sherlock's face almost hurting him. Sherlock shook his head. "I don't know, I don't know what's going on, John." He squeezed his eyes shut. When Sherlock cried out in pain, John jumped, but the look in his friend's eyes was...well...indescribable. It was almost the same look he had when he had figured something out, only this was far stronger


"What's happening?!" Sherlock cried. His foster parents looked terrified for the boy, his vision was clouding. A man, a man in a coat, a swing. His head felt like it was going to explode.


"Sherlock," John wasn't aware of the tears until they fell on his hands. He pulled around to face Sherlock, taking his face in his hands. "Look at me."


Sherlock did his best, searching for his friend through the scenes running through his mind. He met the boy's eyes. John looked, really looked. "I'm here. Don't leave me. God, Sherlock." Emotions and powerful feelings rushed through John and he almost let go, but he almost acted on them too. He just sat there, trembling as he stared down his best friend.




"How much time?" Ianto asked, hoping the speed had cut some time off of their journey.


"Less than an hour. Just be careful."


Ianto continued, weaving through the traffic and making their way into London.




"John, what's happening to me?" Sherlock asked, his voice soft and weak. "There's a man in a coat, and a monster, and this place and I don't know what any of it means," he told him.


"Just relax. Don't fight it. It hurts because you're fighting."


"Okay," Sherlock whimpered; he closed his eyes, taking a few shaky breaths before feeling like something burst into his head. "Oh my god." He sat up, the pounding in his head slowly ebbing away as the memories washed over him."I remember."


"What is it?" John leaned in, staring into Sherlock's eyes.


"Why I came here, why they took me here. I remember," Sherlock repeated, as if it were a big revelation. He had already told his family that his father had abused him and that was why he had been taken away, but this was different. 


"Sherlock, I don't understand. They who?"

"I was little. I was outside on the swing, and this thing, not the same as the ones out there, but similar, attacked me," he said, feeling almost jubilant; he had finally gotten his missing memories back. The pale boy was dragged from his reverie when heard something break the glass of the door downstairs. The smile vanished from his face. "Uh-oh."


"Is that the thing from outside?"


Sherlock nodded. "It's not good, John," he said, his voice quieting as he heard heavy steps on the stairs. John almost stopped breathing, whirling around to face the door. He could hear something

sniffing on the other side of the wood.




"25 minutes out."


Ianto gritted his teeth as they sped through the streets, he could tell by the amount of traffic that the emergency had already reached the authorities which was really not good. Jack checked the screen. "Just stop here, Ianto. We can cut through yards." The team piled out, grabbing what they needed and sprinting for the house, praying to anything that would listen that they wouldn't be too late.




Sherlock reflexively shrank towards John, leaning against the boy and holding his breath. He closed his eyes tight and just hoped they would make it through this. John wrapped his arms around Sherlock. "Whatever happens, I'll protect you," he whispered, glancing around the room for anything they could use.


Sherlock nodded, comforted by the words. He knew in the closet there might some sports equipment they could use as weapons, but he was too afraid of the noise opening the door would make. John saw where Sherlock's gaze was headed. "Your fencing gear is under the bed," he whispered.


Sherlock nodded. Slowly, he started crawling towards the bed. Halfway there, he put his hand down, and the floorboard creaked loudly under him. His eyes widened, and he dove for the bed, reaching under and grabbing the bag, tossing it to John as the monster flung itself against the door. They could both see the wood buckle, their family trembling and fighting the urge to scream or cry where they were huddled in the corner.


Sherlock ran to the desk holding the door in place and pushed himself against it, trying to keep it from budging. John yanked two foils from the bag, tossing the bag to Harry before running to help Sherlock. "We're not gonna-last long!"


"I know!" Sherlock shouted back, clenching his teeth as the beast outside the door continued to try to break in, threatening to send the boy flying. "Stay back, you'll get hurt, John!" he yelled.




Jack and Gwen were panting as the rounded the final corner, coming into view of the Watson house for the first time.


"Jesus Christ!" the former police woman gasped.


The door had been knocked in, and there were bodies piled in the street. Ianto pulled his gun, holding it at the ready. "Be careful, we don't know what we're up against," he said as they approached the house. Jack nodded, squeezing Ianto's shoulder before they cautiously entered the building.




"I'm not-leaving you-on your own!" John shoved Sherlock's foil through his belt loop, pulling the button off the end before doing the same with his.


Sherlock looked up at John, "If that thing gets in here, I'd rather only one of us get hurt," he said seriously. "I can get you enough time to get everybody out of here through the window if it gets in."


"If you play the hero, I'll kill you myself, you sod," John growled. "Give me one good reason why I should leave you behind."


Sherlock's eyes were watering. "Because I'm selfish and I can't watch you get hurt!" he shouted.


"And I can't bear to watch you die!" John blinked away angry tears when suddenly, the pressure on the door vanished.




Ianto heard the noise, "Upstairs."


Jack ran first but pulled up short as he came face to face with two of the ugliest creatures he'd ever seen.


"Hey, Hairless!" Gwen shouted. That got their attention.


Ianto aimed his gun, holding out on pulling the trigger. "Jack, what are they?" he asked, staying calm but out of breath.




Sherlock looked up at the door suddenly. "That woman's voice," he breathed, leaning his head towards the door. John yanked him back. "You don't know if they're gone," he hissed, clutching Sherlock close.


"John, that woman was there. She was in my memory, just like the man in the coat," he insisted, "They were there when that thing attacked me before I came here."


The blonde nodded. "Ok, ok, if she's out there, then let her take care of whatever monster is on the other side of that door. Don't you dare leave me."


"I won't."


"Good." And in front of his parents and sister, John kissed Sherlock, hard and quick before readjusting the dresser to buy them more time if the creatures came back. Sherlock was taken aback. "John..." he whispered, looking more than a bit confused.


"Shut up. We'll talk later." John was blushing but grinning. "Now help me brace this."




Sherlock nodded, pressing his body against the desk again. "I'm not complaining," he murmured.


John shot him a look. "R-really?"


"Really, now shut up. We'll talk later." Sherlock shot him a smirk.




"I think they're a race called lupicarnes," Jack muttered. "Type of wolf hybrid, but no hair, clearly. Very good noses and hearing. Carnivores. Bullets are no good. Need knives or steel. Silver is best. Seems the werewolf myths have some truth in them."


"So what do we do?" Ianto asked.


"Well you boys are lucky I was practicing with my knives before we left." Gwen pulled out a small pouch with several very sharp, very deadly looking knives.


Ianto took one. "Okay," he said, gripping it firmly. Jack and Gwen took the others. "Ready, set, NOW!"


Ianto dove at one of the creatures, slashing it with the knife. The creature's flesh sizzled and burned where the blade touched it; the monster howled in pain, swinging its clawed paw at the man. Jack shoved Ianto out of the way of the claws, wincing as they grazed his own arm, but his knife sailed right into the creature's heart; Gwen's knife also sailed true, taking down the other lupicarne. The smell of burning flesh was rank as both monsters collapsed in the hall.


Ianto bolted to Jack, fussing over the wound in his arm. "Are you okay?" he asked as they stepped over the bodies to the bedroom door they had been trying to break down. The wounds were starting to turn an awful greenish color, and Jack's face was ashen. "Fuck it," he whispered as his legs gave out.


"Stay there!" Gwen called, rushing to Jack. "Not again."


"Rather me than one of you," Jack gasped, grimacing with pain. "I never get used to this," he whispered weakly, glancing at his two companions. "Gwen, go talk to them." She went to the door obediently.


"I'll see you in a minute, love," he breathed. Ianto shook his head, leaning down and kissing Jack, a tear falling from his face."I never get used to it either, see you in a minute."


Jack felt the air leave his body and he collapsed.




Sherlock moved the desk with John's help and opened the door. "What's going on?" he demanded before noticing the woman standing in the doorway, "You're....Gwen, I remember you," he said.


Gwen was wary, but she held out her hand. "Yes, yes, Sherlock. God, you've grown up. And is this the Watson family?"


The dark haired boy nodded, "This is John," he said, taking John's hand at his side. "And that's Harry, and this is Mr. and Mrs. Watson."


Gwen noticed the closeness of the boys but said nothing. "Nice to meet you John," she said, stepping into the room. "Are you all right?" she asked John's parents and sister.


The Watsons nodded. "We all made it up before they got here," Sherlock told her.


"Good. No injuries? You all are fine?" She noticed the foils at the boys' sides. "Very smart. Whose idea was it to get the foils?"


"Mine," said John.

"Where's Jack?" Sherlock asked. He wanted desperately to speak with the man.


"In the hall-" Gwen started but Sherlock pushed past her, pulling John with him. She smiled apologetically at the Watsons before following the boys.




Ianto held Jack's head in his lap, waiting for him to wake up. This was always the hardest part, waiting for him to come back. With a loud gasp, Jack woke, struggling and flailing for a moment before settling back in Ianto's arms, his injury healing itself. Ianto held him tight. "Shh, it's okay, I'm here," he said, stroking the man's hair.


Jack nodded, getting his breath back before leaning up and kissing Ianto like he was the one who had died. Ianto smiled. After he broke the kiss, he helped Jack stand. "You should go talk to the boy," he said.


"Looks like he's coming to me. Hello, Sherlock."


Sherlock stood there, staring at the man for a moment before dropping John's hand, walking up to Jack, and hugging him. It wasn't like him to do so, but he did it anyway. Ianto smiled at them, looking at how very tall the boy had gotten since he'd last seen him sleeping in Jack's arms nine years ago. Jack wrapped his arms around Sherlock, holding him tight. "God, you got tall," he chuckled. "I'm so glad you're safe."


"It was because of you wasn't it? That's why they brought me here?" he asked.


"Sherlock-I" The time for lying was long past. "Yes. Yes, I orchestrated it to get you away from your father, to give you another chance. You really won us over that night."


"Thank you," he whispered, he looked over his shoulder at John. "Really, thank you." He knew he should be angry at Jack, but right now he couldn't help being happy to see him. Jack chuckled, lowering his voice to barely a whisper. "You should tell him how you feel." He winked at Sherlock. "And you're welcome."


"I know, we kind of just did that, a bit," he said awkwardly. "But I'll be sure to do that."


"Don't leave it too long." Giving a final squeeze, Jack released him. "So what triggered the memories?"


"Those things." Sherlock said, pointing to the dead lupicarnes on the ground. "Now that brings me to a good point. What the hell did you do to my memory?" he demanded, becoming serious; his voice had an edge to it. Ianto time was definitely over.


Jack's stomach twisted, knowing he'd have to do the same to Sherlock's new family. He nodded once at Gwen who led Mr. Watson, Mrs. Watson, and Harry down to the kitchen.


"No, John, you can stay." Ianto remained as well.


"We couldn't let you remember, Sherlock. You were too young, and I didn't want anything to happen to you. With us, it's more dangerous to be in the know. I gave you a pill in your can of Coke that made you sleep and forget."


"I was a child. I wasn't going to tell anybody! Do you know how scared I was, waking up with a whole day missing from my memory?!" he asked, venom in his voice.


Jack stood very still, watching the boy carefully. "It didn't matter your age. Believe me, and Ianto will tell you that I didn't want to, but the thought of something like these things killing you was enough to make me make sure I took care of you. And I did. We took care of your father and sent you here so you could grow up with a fresh start, a new life."


"You took me away from my mother," he whispered. "I wasn't there when she died."


Jack felt the tears prick his eyes, and at almost the same moment, Ianto rested his hand on Jack's shoulder and John did the same for Sherlock.


"She had cancer. We kept tabs on her, but she-Sherlock she was delirious at the end. She didn't know who she was or where she was. She didn't remember she had children."


Sherlock closed his eyes, trying to bite back the tears. "She didn't remember me," he confirmed; the boy remembered that hospital visit all too well. "But I wanted to be there."


"I'm sorry. You-" Out with it, "You reminded me too much of my younger brother. I wanted to do anything to keep you safe."


"That's not your job!" Sherlock shouted, tears falling down his cheeks "I had people to take care of me."


John pulled Sherlock into an embrace, comforting him. He shot Jack a look, confused and hurt. "You have people caring for you right now."


Sherlock put his head in John's shoulder. "I know." He said. 


Ianto rubbed Jack's shoulder with his hand. He knew the immortal had meant the best for the boy, but he hadn't realized it had stayed with him for so long.  John wrapped his arms tighter around Sherlock, holding him and leaning gently against the wall. He was taking everything in, not understanding some things, but he knew Sherlock would explain later.


Jack caught Ianto's hand, squeezing it. "Thanks." Then "I'm really, really sorry Sherlock," he murmured.


Sherlock didn't say anything. He knew that he didn't need to be angry, that he had gotten it out, but right now he just wanted to be held. Jack turned back to the disgusting bodies on the floor. "We need to deal with these, Ianto. Gwen's probably done with the family," he whispered.


Sherlock looked up quickly. "What?"


Jack winced. Shit. "We just gave them a little something to help them forget..." he trailed off as he saw the look on Sherlock's face.


"You bastard," he spat, walking over to the man and grabbing him by the front of the shirt.


"Now, Sherlock-"


"No. That is my family. You already took away my memory from me and I am not letting you get away with taking theirs," he hissed, shaking Jack a bit as he spoke.


"I can't let them remember, Sherlock. I'm letting John keep his. You really should be grateful for that. And you can keep yours this time as well."


"I'm not going to be grateful for anything," he snarled. "Don't you understand what you're doing?"


"Enlighten me then since you're clearly quite keen to." This is why we stay away from children, Jack thought bitterly


"You are taking away memories. In a few hours, my family is going to wake up, scared, not able to remember anything that happened today, and I'm going to have to pretend that I don't know because if I told them, and the memories started coming back, it would hurt, and they would scream, and I can't bear that. Did you know that it hurts? Did you know how frightening it is to lose a whole day?" he asked, shoving Jack against the wall.


The anger and power in the boy's eyes was truly something to behold. "Then how would you like a position with us?" Jack asked. "John too."


Sherlock stepped back. "You didn't answer me," he said.


"Sherlock, what I do-what we do is a very secret line of work. Civilians can't know about it. And believe me when I say it hurts me every time I have to retcon another person; it very nearly broke me to do it to you."


Sherlock sighed. "Fine," he said, willing to drop the subject. "So you're asking two teenagers to join you in fighting aliens? How do you feel about this, John?" Sherlock asked, walking back over to the blonde. John looked at him and then back at Jack. "Is it dangerous?"


"Yes." Jack felt Ianto's hand again. "Very."


"Would I be able to protect him?"


The question caught Jack off guard. "For the most part, yes."


John looked back at Sherlock. "What do you think?"


"What about school?" Sherlock asked. He would gladly skip, but he wasn't sure the adults would take very kindly to it.


"We can make your excuses," Jack said. "You'll find we are good at securing transfers or getting authorities to look the other way."


Sherlock grinned. "Sound interesting, I'll do it if you're willing to, John," he said. He wouldn't dream of doing this kind of thing without him. John looked from Sherlock to Jack and then slowly nodded. "Just keep our family safe."


"I will do everything I can."


"Okay. John, you're going to love the place when you see it. By the way, what happened to the others?" Sherlock suddenly asked, remembering another man and woman from before. Jack and Ianto glanced at each other. "There was an-incident a few years ago and they...they didn't make it." Jack felt his eyes burn at the memory, the loss of Owen and Tosh as raw as it had been that day.


"Oh. I'm sorry," Sherlock said. "I didn't realize."


Jack nodded, shaking the memories away. "Let's go find Gwen. Ianto, you know what to do about these."


Ianto nodded, kneeling down to take care of the dead bodies at his feet. Sherlock took John's hand again and followed Jack downstairs. He looked pained as they walked into the kitchen to find his family asleep at the table. Gwen turned as they entered, registering the look on Sherlock's face. "They'll be fine. They won't remember this; they'll think they just sent you off to school as usual."


"I know," he said curtly, "Let's go." He didn't want to sit around and watch any longer.


Jack rested a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Grab anything you'll need before we go."


Sherlock nodded, walking over to the coat rack and pulling off the Black peacoat he had received for Christmas, and the blue scarf he had been given nine years ago that day.


John dashed upstairs and grabbed the fencing bag and pocketing the arrowhead, his first treasure before grabbing has favorite jumper and running back downstairs. Sherlock put on the coat and scarf before heading out the door, following the Torchwood team to their new life.

Chapter Text

There were still several bodies lying in the street, and Sherlock tried very hard not look at them. "Where's the car?" he asked.

"Several block away." Jack turned to look at him as Gwen and Ianto caught up. "We were in a bit of a rush to get here."

Sherlock chuckled. "Okay. Come on, John," he said, reaching out to take the boy's hand and following Jack towards where the Black SUV was. Ianto smiled, catching up with Jack and walking next to him.

John couldn't help but blush as Sherlock took his hand, clearly causing the other boy to smirk; Sherlock was glad that something good had come out of the so far very troublesome day.

Ianto glanced back at the teenagers, smiling at them. He nudged Jack surreptitiously in the ribs.

"What?" Jack whispered, lacing his fingers with Ianto's

"They're so cute," Ianto whispered back.

"I know. I get the feeling it's a new development."

Ianto nodded in agreement. "Adorable." He smirked at Jack.

"What?" Jack knew that smirk. It was the "I have a list of different things you can do with a stopwatch" smirk.

"Oh just look really good in that coat," he replied, slowly looking Jack up and down, undressing him with his eyes.

"Why thank you, love. Would you like to see me in it later...just it and nothing else," the immortal purred into his lover's ear.

The Welshman shivered, "Very much," he responded. "Now stop distracting me I'm supposed to be working."

"It's a date then."

"I look forward to it."


John leaned into Sherlock. "So, can we talk? About before..."

"Of course, John," Sherlock told him, looking very seriously at the boy.

"I-well I-" Damn, this was going to be harder than he thought. "I got the impression you liked it. Was it...ok?"

Sherlock nodded. "I...I like you a lot, John," he admitted.

Ianto, eavesdropping on the conversation gave Jack a look like he had just seen a cute little dog on the street.

"I could never tell. I mean, I've always felt protective of you, especially from bullies on the playground, but I didn't really let myself realize it until today when I thought I was going to lose you," John replied, feeling like his heart was going to burst from his chest.

Jack caught the look and grinned, motioning for Ianto to stay quiet.

Sherlock nodded. "I was afraid of losing you too, I've been the only person who's been my friend all these years. I didn't want to ruin anything."

John nodded, heart sinking. "So, you want to just stay friends?" Please no, don't zone me, please Sherlock.

"No. I just never acted on it before because I thought you didn't like me back," the taller boy amended. "No, definitely not."

John was grinning; he was grinning like a kid on Christmas morning. The blonde laced his fingers with Sherlock's, making their holding hands that much more intimate. "Good."

Sherlock smiled back, a rare, genuine smile. "Good," he repeated.


They finally reached the car, the boys getting in the back next to each other with Gwen by the other window, Ianto driving and Jack in the passenger seat. As soon as they were moving, John pressed a gentle kiss to Sherlock's cheek, a thank you of sorts. Sherlock blushed a little bit, color coming to his pale face. Slowly, he leaned down and returned the kiss, pressing his lips to John's cheek softly.

It was so innocent and pure, and soon John was the same color as Sherlock. Slowly, hesitantly, he turned and brought the other boy's lips to his, caressing them gently, a much softer echo of the rough kiss in their room. Sherlock kissed back gently, chastely, his first real kiss; he wasn't even going to consider the desperate one in their bedroom as his first since it had been in the heat of the moment when they'd both thought they were going to die.

Ianto kept glancing at the backseat at the rearview mirror and grinning at how adorable they were.

John had only had two girlfriends before, so his knowledge of relationships in general was fairly limited, but he knew how to kiss; that was one trick he'd managed to learn in the past six years. He gently brought his hands up, one to Sherlock's cheek and the other to his thick, unruly curls. Sherlock cautiously wrapped his arms around John's shoulders, pressing his lips to the other boy's slightly more firmly.

Jack's eyes flickered to Ianto then back at Gwen. She was clearly trying hard not to watch, but it was just too tempting, and neither boy seemed to be aware of the Torchwood team in the slightest.

John hummed softly in enjoyment, pressing Sherlock gently against the door; the taller boy always took the window seat, but John never minded...he minded even less now. The blonde moved his lips now, slowly opening Sherlock up to the many ways to kiss and how to use his mouth. Sherlock parted his lips slightly; the sensation was new and overwhelming until he tuned out everything around him that wasn't John Watson. John let his tongue stroke Sherlock's lips gently before slipping between them, moaning into his (boyfriend's?) mouth at the feeling.

Jack raised a finger to his lips, looking pointedly at his lover. Ianto tried to concentrate on the stretch of highway ahead of him but was finding it incredibly difficult...they had a whole two and a half hour drive back to Cardiff.

Sherlock allowed his tongue to dance around John's, moaning softly against his lips. He shifted his hips slightly so that his body was facing John more directly; John was almost in Sherlock's lap now, every nerve in his body on fire. The slow burn of the kiss was driving him mad, and he wanted everything, but no, keep it simple, so he just deepened the kiss, only pressing harder when Sherlock was clearly ok with the current moves.

Jack grinned at Ianto, taking the man's hand and leaning over to whisper in his ear. "Hang in there, love."

John tightened his grip in Sherlock's hair slightly, the hand on Sherlock's face sliding around to the nape of his neck and playing with the shorter curls he found there. He could kiss this boy, this almost man forever. Sherlock decided to be adventurous, moving his tongue into John's mouth and exploring timidly while trying to come off as confident at the same time. John's head rolled back slightly, "God, Sherlock," he whispered. He caught Sherlock's tongue and stroked it with his own before sucking on it gently.

Sherlock whimpered against John's lips, using the hand on John's neck to push him closer; they couldn't seem get close enough, and it was driving John mad. The kissing was fucking phenomenal, and Sherlock definitely snogged better than either of his previous girlfriends. He crawled fully onto Sherlock's lap now, sort of straddling him while holding the sides of the boy's face in his hands. Sherlock sighed, his back arching him into John's chest. He ran his tongue across the roof of John's mouth lightly, trying to experiment to see what John liked. The blonde gasped, shuddering. "Again-more."

Sherlock repeated the motion, bringing his tongue to the back of John's mouth before running it along the grove on the top of his mouth, bringing it forwards until it touched the back of his teeth. John melted into Sherlock, every muscle in his body giving out. He had never realized how sensitive he was there and God, Sherlock's bloody tongue, his freaking tongue.

Finally, unable to ward it off any longer, Sherlock pulled back for air, panting. He rested his forehead against John's and closed his eyes. "You are so brilliant," came the hushed whisper.

John's breathing was ragged as the kiss finally ended. "That was...amazing," he breathed.

Sherlock chuckled. "It certainly was," he agreed. "I wasn't too bad, was I? I've never done that before."

"Are you kidding? You're a natural, Sherlock." John smiled at him, brushing a few curls out of his eyes. "I've never seen someone pick it up that fast."

Sherlock blushed, "Really?" he murmured, "That's good. You were, um, really great," Sherlock told him awkwardly. John flushed with pride. "Don't be nervous," he whispered, leaning in for another kiss just as the car hit a bump in the road, jolting him back to reality and reminding the teen that there were three other people in the car.

Gwen was grinning but looking at the map, and Jack was clearly undressing Ianto with his eyes, glancing back to wink at John. Ianto was smirking. "Almost had to pull the hose on you two."

Sherlock blushed as John slid off his lap, shifting so he could rest his head against the other boy's chest. The blonde shot Ianto a look, feeling bold. "Well, we weren't going to say anything, but I think I should have at least a spray bottle for you two. Jack looks like he is fucking you with his eyes."

Sherlock snorted, covering his mouth with his hand while Ianto blushed slightly, focusing on the road again and smacking Jack playfully on the arm.

John grinned, very pleased with himself as he wrapped his arms around Sherlock's chest and snuggled close. Sherlock snaked an arm around John's shoulders in response, holding him tight. John could hear the taller boy's heartbeat finally settling to a normal pace as he held him.

"Hey!" Jack laughed, rubbing his arm. "Looks like we got ourselves a fighter and a thinker. about that. Tosh was our thinker and Owen...John, you wouldn't happen to be interested in medicine would you?"

John stared. "Yeah, actually, I've always wanted to be a doctor."

Ianto nodded. "What a coincidence."

"It is, actually. I wonder how we got that lucky."

"Maybe it happened for a reason." Sherlock suggested.

"Perhaps," Jack mused, growing bored. "Any ideas of how to pass the time? It's a long ride back to Cardiff."

"Well, I can think of a few." Sherlock smirked at John.

"Oh God, yes" John groaned, and they were back in each other's laps, snogging to beat all; Sherlock smiled into John's lips, feeling spectacular.

Jack heard Ianto groan and he chuckled. "Patience, patience, just remember what you said about my soon as we get back."

With that, Ianto sped the car up a little.


The boys alternated passionate kisses and embraces the entire rest of the ride, John treasuring one moment in particular where Sherlock discovered just how sensitive his neck was much to the amusement of the others, even interrupting Jack and Ianto's game of 'Yellow Car'.

When they finally arrived outside the unassuming tourist shop in Cardiff, Sherlock took John by the hand and practically bounded out of the SUV. "Wait until you see," he said, bouncing up and down like an excited child.

"See what? Sherlock, it's a gift shop."

"Just come on," Sherlock groaned, dragging John along with him. Ianto led the teenagers into the shop and flipped the switch behind the counter.

Suddenly, John's whole world changed.

Sherlock grinned as they enter the Hub. It looked just as it had from when he was a kid, even down to the pterodactyl flying overhead. John wasn't aware of how low his chin had dropped as he gaped at the room. "Is-is that a-"

"Pterodactyl? Yep, Myfanwy," Ianto confirmed, looking fondly up at the flying creature. John simply stared, eyes sliding over everything and only taking in every few details. "They made you forget all this? That must be a hell of a pill."

Sherlock chuckled darkly. "Yeah, it really is."

Jack clapped his hands. "So, who's hungry? I was going to have Ianto order pizza."

Sherlock shrugged. "I don't eat much, but John didn't today," he said, looking over to his boyfriend.

"I'm good with anything," John said, leaning into Sherlock and poking his stomach. "You realy should eat more, you're just so skinny," he teased. Sherlock flinched and laughed. "I'm never hungry; being full makes it so hard to think," he half-whined.

Jack laughed, clapping both boys on the shoulders. "Ianto, two pies, one cheese and one whatever you want. Then meet me in my office, I have to discuss something with you. Gwen, can you man the shop for the pizza?"

"Sure, Jack." Gwen grinned and winked before heading out.


John continued to hug Sherlock, just enjoying being close to the boy. There was so much he wanted to say, to do. He wanted to kiss Sherlock and to go even further, something he'd never done with his girlfriends. He wanted Sherlock to deduce him, to hear his voice go lower and huskier and know that it was all for him; just the thought of it made his heart race. Sherlock leaned down and kissed John gently on the lips after the rest had gone. "We're alone," he whispered. John smiled, kissing back. "You know, we are. What do you want to do?"

Sherlock brought John over to the couch near the wall, sitting down and kissing him again. It was better than the car, no spectators for one thing. John relaxed into Sherlock's embrace, wrapping his arms around the boy's neck. As Sherlock lay back on the couch, he wrapped his long legs around John's hips, bringing him closer. John lowered himself onto Sherlock, straddling him as they kissed. He moaned softly onto the pale boy's mouth when the genius licked the roof of his mouth again.

Sherlock moaned back, the sound muffled in John's mouth; he had wanted this for so long. John cupped Sherlock's face in his hands, not realizing when he slowly started rocking his hips against his friend's. Sherlock's head fell against the arm of the sofa, moaning loudly "Oh god, John," he panted, arching his back. John kept going, rocking them slowly together. "What do you want?" he asked, eyes seeking Sherlock's piercing gaze. Sherlock was a limp mess in John's arms. "I want you, John, right now," he whimpered needily; the boy had never known somebody could make him feel so good.

John raised an eyebrow. "Well, don't want to keep you waiting then." He knew this was their first, well, everything, and he wanted it to be special, but something about Sherlock's voice was going straight to his groin and suddenly they were kissing again as he pulled of Sherlock's scarf and started working on his shirt.

Sherlock helped John, quickly unbuttoning the purple dress shirt to reveal his pale chest. He still had a telltale scar from his childhood, light and pink, travelling in a diagonal across his ribcage. John marveled at the pale skin in a way he hadn't before, leaning down to kiss and caress it and trailing his lips and tongue along the scar.

Sherlock breathing became ragged as John kissed across his chest, moaning the boy's name breathily. John smiled to hear his name on Sherlock's lips. He slid the shirt off the rest of the way and went to remove his jumper. The taller boy helped, moving his hands under John's jumper and tugging it upwards over his head.

As soon as he was free of his jumper and the t-shirt under it, John dove back in and pressed kiss after kiss to his neck. Sherlock held John's head to his skin with one hand, relishing the feeling of the other boys lips against the sensitive skin. John's hands were back in Sherlock's curls, God could they be any softer? He let his teeth grazed the skin as he kissed back up Sherlock's jaw to his lips. "What exactly do you want, Sherlock?"

"I want you to, well, you know." Sherlock said awkwardly, not sure exactly how to word it.

"Make love to you?" John offered.

Sherlock swallowed and nodded. "Yes."

John smiled and gave Sherlock a very tender kiss. "Let's see if we can figure this out, shall we?" He smirked, reaching down to unbutton Sherlock's trousers. Sherlock nodded, helping, suddenly feeling very exposed. John rose long enough to remove his own jeans and pants before bringing Sherlock up to a sitting position. He leaned down and whispered, "Relax."

Sherlock did so, taking a deep breath and relaxing himself. John kissed Sherlock, coming down to kneel in front of the boy. He kissed his way down Sherlock's neck and chest, pausing over his tented boxers. He breathed lightly on the fabric before kissing it gently, glancing up to make sure Sherlock was ok. Sherlock closed his eyes and inhaled sharply at the gentle touch. John hooked his thumbs in the waistband of the pants and pulled them down, staring curiously at his cock for a moment before leaning forward and kissing the tip gently.

Sherlock moaned. "Oh god, John," he breathed.

John held onto Sherlock's hips as he kissed and licked up and down, getting used to the taste and texture before he came back to the tip, slowly taking Sherlock into his mouth. Sherlock moaned from deep in his throat, feeling the warmth of John's mouth surround him, strange but interesting, definitely something to go back and examine later. John took his cues from Sherlock as to what the boy seemed to like, his own cock straining against his bocers. He ignored it, this was about Sherlock, proving how much he cared, how much he....loved him. Oh god. He was in love with Sherlock Holmes.

"Wait," Sherlock groaned reluctantly after a few minutes of utter bliss. "This isn't just about me."

Surprised, John pulled off, swirling his tongue around Sherlock's tip. "What do you mean?"

Sherlock tugged John back onto the sofa, straddling his hips. John gasped as Sherlock kissed him, hands roaming. "Sherlock-"

Sherlock smiled, moving his hand between them to touch John gently. John whimpered, bucking against Sherlock's hand. "Oh f-fuck-"

Sherlock grinned, stroking John softly. John whimpered again, body shivering. "More, Sherlock, p-please..."

The taller boy obliged, stroking faster. John pulled him in, kissing him deeply. "Could you do what I was doing before?" he asked, flushing.

Sherlock nodded, kissing his way down John's chest, John's breath coming in short gasps as Sherlock hovered over his groin. He stared for just a moment before doing away with the boy's boxers and slowly lowering his mouth onto his cock. John gasped as Sherlock's hot, wet mouth enveloped him. "Ohhhh, GOD, yes," he whimpered, threading his fingers back through Sherlock's hair. Sherlock moved his head up and down slowly, not knowing exactly what he was doing, but John seemed to like it. He reached a hand downward to stroke himself gently, moaning.

"Just like ahhhh! that, oh fuck yes, Sherlock!" John could feel his gut starting to burn. "More tongue, more like-that!"

Sherlock felt a knot growing in his stomach. He ran his tongue up the length of John's cock, experimenting.

"I-I'm-Sherlock, I'm gonna-" John couldn't even get a full sentence out. Sherlock quickened his pace, bobbing his head faster. He was about to as well, and he didn't want to finish before John.

"Sherlock!!!!" John came, pouring into Sherlock's mouth, back arching off the couch, yelling and moaning Sherlock's name, gasping for air before sinking into the couch. Sherlock came shortly after, moaning as he collapsed. He wiped his mouth on his arm as he crawled back up to John, curling up against his chest. John wrapped his arms around Sherlock, holding him tight. "That was-we just-"

Sherlock enjoyed being held. "I know," he replied, pressing his forehead against John's and staring into his eyes. John stared back, smiling. "I just lost it to Sherlock Holmes."

Sherlock blushed. "I just had my first kiss today, and then lost it to John Watson." He grinned back at his lover. "So worth it."

Sherlock's words and grin had John blushing furiously and kissing him again. "You're bloody fantastic."


Ianto quickly ordered the pizzas and walked briskly to Jack's office, closing the door behind him as he entered. Jack turned to Ianto, coat buttoned up. "Hello handsome," he grinned.

Ianto smirked. "Hello there, Captain," he purred, gripping the lapels of Jack's coat and pulling him in for a kiss. Jack kissed back, wrapping Ianto in a tight embrace, tongue diving into the Welshman's mouth. "I'm glad you're safe," he finally whispered. "If anything had happened to you-"

"Don't think about it, please don't," Ianto cut him off, draping his arms around Jack's neck; their job was too dangerous for him to worry about what might happen as long as they were safe right then. Jack nodded, breathing hard. "Bunker?"

Ianto nodded. "Now," he said, shoving Jack playfully toward the entrance. Jack scrambled down the ladder, smiling as Ianto closed the hatch behind him. "Well now, care to unwrap me?"

Ianto obliged, unbuttoning the coat painfully slowly. "What do you have for me today, Jack?"

"Oh, you know, the usual I suppose you could say." Jack replied, leaning in to whisper, "I'm gonna fuck you with my coat on, love," into his lover's ear.

Ianto smirked, pulling Jack down on the small bed as he finished with the last buttons on Jack's coat. Jack stripped Ianto as fast as humanly possible, kissing every inch of skin as it was revealed until they were both naked (except for the coat of course) and snogging on the bunk.

The Welshman kissed back enthusiastically; Jack never ceased to make him feel amazing despite how many times they had done this before. The immortal began grinding against his lover until they both were rock hard, kissing him deeply and sliding down Ianto's body to kiss and lick his cock, just teasing him, though he did give Ianto two of his fingers.

Ianto groaned, sucking lightly on Jack's fingers. "You tease," he said, mimicking the words he had heard too many times to count. Once Jack removed his fingers, he slipped them into Ianto, swallowing him down at the same time. He delighted in Ianto's reaction, drawing a few choice words from his pretty mouth; Jack hummed, sending vibrations down the man's cock as he scissored him open before finally pulling off. "I-need-some-lube," he panted, winking at the man.

Ianto pulled a small bottle from the bedside. He tossed it to Jack with a smirk.

"Not that kind of lube, love." Jack gave him the stare, the same one from the car.

Ianto grinned, propping himself up on his elbows.

Jack straddled Ianto's chest, stroking Ianto's lips with his cock. Ianto took Jack in his mouth, swirling his tongue around Jack's shaft as he began to move his head back and forth. Jack groaned loudly, hands gripping Ianto's head until he felt he was slick enough. He pulled out, forcing the Welshman down on the bed and positioning himself.

"God I love that coat."

"Just the coat?" Jack winked before kissing Ianto and pressing in, letting the Welshman feel every single inch. Ianto groaned as he adjusted for a moment, before moaning. "Oh, Jack."

Jack slowly pulled out before thrusting back in, going tortuously slow and keeping Ianto's lips captured with his own. Ianto shuddered, moaning into Jack's mouth. He wanted to scream, he was so frustrated. "Stop teasing me, Jack," he whined.

"If you insist," Jack purred before slamming in with a snap of his hips, fucking Ianto into the mattress.

"Oh my fucking god," the coffee boy cursed.

"Right here," Jack laughed, driving into Ianto hard and rough. "You love this, don't you? My cock in you, pounding you like this. You love bottoming, letting me take you as I want, don't you?" Dirty talk got Ianto every single time.

Oh god, that man knew just what drove him wild. Ianto nodded, moaning and moving his hips down to meet Jack's.

"Say it then. Say you love riding my cock. Tell me what you dream of me doing to you."

Ianto groaned again "I want you to fuck me," he moaned, Jack's words sending a thrill through him.

"Just fuck you?" Jack slowed down, body trembling from the effort. Ianto whimpered "Don't slow down, please," he begged, voice sounding needy.

"Don't slow down please, what?" God, this was too easy.

"Don't slow down please, sir." Ianto was willing to do anything to keep Jack going.

"Close enough." Jack sped up again, sucking and biting Ianto's neck as he pounded the man. Ianto cried out as Jack bit him, delighting in the pressure on his neck.

"Come for me," Jack murmured, kissing his way to Ianto's collarbone. "See if you can come without my hand."

It didn't take much longer, especially once Jack had adjusted his angle and was driving into his lover's prostate. "Oh fuck, Jack," Ianto yelled as he came, his body thrashing and trembling under Jack.

Ianto's climax shoved the Captain right over the edge, yelling his lover's name as he came hard and fast before collapsing, spent. The Welshman snuggled against Jack's chest. "How do you know how to make me feel so great?" he asked after a few moments of just breathing with the man beside him.

Jack held him close. "Honestly? I'm just fucking fantastic in bed." He kissed Ianto's head. "No, but really, I don't know, Ianto. I think I just got lucky with you. You know exactly what I like."

Ianto grinned. "Good match then? We're both fantastic."

"Oh, you are more than fantastic," Jack murmured, kissing the Welshman. "God, I could lie here with you forever."

"That might get a bit boring. You know, after a while," Ianto said teasingly. "But I appreciate the sentiment."

"No, it wouldn't. Do you still not have any idea what you mean to me?"

"I don't know how it compares to what you do to me," he purred, tracing circles on Jack's chest with his finger.

Jack shivered at the touch. "Ianto, I'm selfish enough that I would make you immortal without a second thought if I could, just to keep you by my side for eternity."

Ianto's heart soared. "You're perfect," he whispered, kissing Jack softly.

"Well, thank you. So are you." Jack wanted to just kiss Ianto for hours, but he knew the pizza would be there any moment. "We should get dressed," he murmured.

Ianto nodded, cleaning them both off before getting up and stretching, pulling on his clothes. "Wonder how the newlyweds are doing," he mused, raising an eyebrow. He had decided that's what he would call them since the boys couldn't keep off of each other. Typical teenagers...well, except for the whole fighting aliens thing.

"Probably shagging each other senseless," Jack laughed, grabbing a clean outfit from his closet. Ianto smirked "Probably." He fixed his suit obsessively in the mirror, needing everything to be in order. Jack grinned, pulling on his suspenders and walking over to help Ianto straighten up. "Don't stress, you're already perfect," he grinned, kissing Ianto lazily


Gwen took the pizza from the delivery boy and closed up the shop for lunch, letting herself back into the Hub. Ianto could hear the doors to the Hub opening, "Looks like the pizza's here," he said, kissing Jack back before straightening his tie one final time.

Sherlock kissed John back until he heard the loud noise of the door. He cursed out loud." Oh shit," he said, hurrying to cover himself.

They heard the shouts first. Jack glanced at Ianto before tearing up the ladder and bursting out of the door to Jack's office.

Jack had to fight back laughter.

Sherlock was on the floor, scrambling for his clothes. John was the color of a tomato as he crouched behind the far end of the sofa, hissing at Sherlock to throw him his clothes. Gwen looked like she might laugh, just barely holding onto the pizza boxes. She was looking away, choking out, "Sorry, God, I'm so sorry."

Sherlock handed John his clothes quickly. "Oh my god," he kept saying, pale face turning beet red.

"Sherlock, it's ok. Get over here," John hissed back. Sherlock went over to his lover, trying to fight the urge to go hide under a rock.

Ianto was trying his hardest not to laugh. Poor things. He remembered when Gwen had caught him and Jack together, and he had reacted in much the same way, although he had kept his cool well enough.

Jack squeezed Ianto's hand before going over to Gwen and taking the pizza. "Don't want you dropping that, now do we?" he winked. Gwen snorted and started coughing to cover it.

Ianto jogged down, putting a hand on Gwen's shoulder and steering her away to save the teen's any further embarrassment. He held in his laughter until they had gotten to the conference room, closing the door behind them.


John scrambled into his jumper and jeans, not bothering with socks of briefs. He helped Sherlock with his trousers first before sliding the purple shirt back on his thin, pale frame. "It's ok," he whispered, remembering his own mortification the first time Sherlock had walked in on him wanking. Sherlock nodded, looking at his feet. "I can't believe that just happened." He began to chuckle.

John started laughing and was soon hanging onto Sherlock to stay upright he was laughing so hard. "Net time, we find a room," he gasped, hugging Sherlock tight.

Jack stood there, watching the boys silently, a smile playing on his lips, waiting for them to calm down so he could take them to the conference room for dinner.

Sherlock laughed, "Okay." He agreed. He was glad at least they could laugh about it.

Still laughing, John pulled Sherlock down into a kiss, holding him close. When they parted, he pressed his lips to the boy's ear, "And I do mean it when I say next time, love."

Sherlock shivered at John's breath on his ear. He looked up at Jack and nodded, taking John's hand and following the Captain towards the conference room.


Gwen took one look at Ianto and lost it, dropping to the floor she was laughing so hard, blushing pink with embarrassment. Ianto leaned on the wall, laughing uncontrollably. "Get it out now," he panted between fits of laughter. He didn't want to hurt their feelings by laughing right to their faces.

Gwen couldn't breathe and laughed until she was red in the face. "Okay-okay," she gasped, struggling to her feet. "Ianto-a hand-"

Ianto reached down, pulling Gwen up. He leaned back against the wall, gasping for breath before taking a seat at the table. Gwen managed to compose herself before Jack and the boys strolled in, setting the pizza down while Jack grabbed drinks from the cooler, tossing everyone a can of soda and plunking a stack of napkins on the table. "Dig in!"

Ianto kept himself calm as he sat down with a slice, avoiding eye contact with Gwen for fear of making her laugh again. Jack insisted on feeding a slice to Ianto, temporarily breaking their usual teasing and indifference outside of Jack's office, and he succeeded in making his lover blush. Winking at him, Jack polished off the slice, and Ianto leaned against his shoulder, sighing contentedly.

Sherlock caught his can and sat down to eat. He nibbled on the end of a slice of pizza because he wasn't really hungry but was trying to appease John.

John dug in, starving; he'd never made it to breakfast that morning. He was polishing off his third slice when he glanced at Sherlock. "What's wrong?"

Sherlock looked up. "Huh? Oh, nothing, just not hungry."

John rubbed his back. "Toast for breakfast and you're good for the day, eh?"

"Gets in the way of thinking, John."

John nodded, not responding. He knew Sherlock wouldn't eat if he told him to, but he found he was worried more about him now. Interesting side effect of having sex with the guy, perhaps, he thought, or of falling in love with him.

Jack wrapped his arm around Ianto's shoulder, glancing up at Sherlock. "Can you still do your deduction trick?"

Sherlock nodded again. "And it's not a trick, it's logic," he corrected, rolling his eyes.

"Very well. What can you tell about the three of us?"

Sherlock looked around the room. "She's married. Happily, she polishes the ring, which means that she cares about it, and her fingers are red around the edges of it so it's barely ever removed. She's lost a friend, carries herself a little heavier, red around her eyes from a lot of crying, so recently. I'd say within the past month or so," he said; John noticed the boy's eyes seemed to shift to an even colder color when he was deducing and darting about, noticing everything.

Jack nodded, not speaking. Sherlock turned his eyes to Ianto. "Obsessive compulsive, constantly straightening his tie, and cleaning up even when there's nothing to clean. He's lost a lot of loved ones, mostly a long time ago. Dedicated and loyal...but there's something there, a dark past, tragedy, but he deals with it well enough. The OCD is probably a result of it, trying to bring order into his life."

Ianto looked down at the floor. He could feel the boy's eyes pierce through him as he recited everything about him without even trying, it seemed. Jack squeezed Ianto's hand, knowing he was next. Sherlock shifted his gaze to Jack. "A lot different since last time. You look a lot older than before, but the same too. The eyes, remember? Clearly in a relationship. It's killing you isn't it? Being unable to die with somebody you love. That's it, that's why you look so much older. Concerned, careful, protective. Interesting," he finished, cocking his head to the side as he had done when he first met Jack and deduced him.

Jack felt his face flushing as he glanced at Ianto. He saw the Welshman's eyes glistening with tears as he looked back at the dark haired boy. "And your...friend," he hesitated on the word, fighting back the urge to say newlywed as Ianto had before.

Sherlock turned to John. "Well, I don't need to. I know him already..." He looked up at Jack. "Not really much point to it."

John wanted so desperately to kiss Sherlock that he was trembling from the effort of holding still. Jack saw and grinned slightly, his mouth twitching. "Well, then, welcome to Torchwood, Sherlock."

Sherlock grinned. "Thanks."

John started slightly. "Wait, what about me?"

Jack glanced at the rest of the table. Ianto shook his head, calming himself. "He could do that Weevil autopsy we were going to do this morning," he suggested.

Jack nodded. "Follow me." John rose and followed Jack from the room, leaving Sherlock with Ianto and Gwen.


Sherlock watched them leave before turning back to the remaining team members. "So, it's been a while," he said, a bit awkwardly. Ianto nodded, looking up at Sherlock. "How do you do that anyway? Figure things out." He asked, leaning over the table. Sherlock shrugged. "It's easy, you just have to open your eyes."

Gwen looked at him. "Open your eyes? How do you mean?"

"Just observe, look at things, find the connections. People see but they don't observe."

"Show me then. How did you know that stuff about me? About Ianto?"

"For you it was easy, the ring gives most of it away. People who aren't happy with their spouse aren't going to take the time to clean the object that ties them together. But yours is clean. It shines," he answered, pointing to her finger. He turned to Ianto again "You always fuss over your suit, especially the tie, and you're insistent on cleaning things that have already been cleaned, therefore, obsessive compulsive. You seem mostly normal but you hardly ever smile, except when you're around Jack, and you carry yourself a bit heavier than most, plus you work here. You've seen tragedy. Circles under the eyes indicates sleepless nights, most likely nightmares therefore a childhood trauma."

Gwen gaped at him. "That's really amazing."

Sherlock shrugged indifferently, finally giving up on the pizza and setting it down on the table. He inspected his soda cautiously, as if he expected there to be another pill inside.

"You're part of the group now, Sherlock. You don't have to worry about retcon."

Sherlock's lips twitched upward for a moment. "Okay," he said, taking a small sip before setting it down.


Jack led John to their medical bay where the Weevil was on the slab. "How much do you know about medicine?"

"Well, I've been teaching myself what I can, and I did get to intern at St. Bartholomew's last summer." John stood there for a moment, watching Jack before picking up the latex gloves and the doctor's smock. "What do you want to know about this...thing."

"It's called a Weevil, actually similar to humans in many ways. I want you to tell me which of the main internal organs are different and how he died."

John nodded, picking up the scalpel and taking a deep breath. "Okay then." He made an incision from the creature's collarbone down to his abdomen, observing the chest as he went. "Gunshot wound to the chest would initially appear to be the cause of death."

Jack nodded.

"Appears to have a heart and lungs, but after that, the anatomy just gets weird...this looks like a stomach...ugh, black bile. Okay, uh, liver, kidneys...well, something like liver and kidneys. Rib cage with, okay, one lung. That's new. No genitals," he commented, checking under the blanket. "Plenty of internal scarring. He's been injured before...he was dying when you shot him. My conclusion...he'd been injured and the lack of care was leading to his organs shutting down. Final cause of death was a gunshot wound that caused him to bleed out."

Jack smiled. "Welcome to Torchwood."

"Can we go back now?"

The immortal nodded, shaking John's hand and leading back to the conference room.


Sherlock looked up expectantly as they returned to the room. "How'd it go?"

"I'm in."

Sherlock grinned back, standing and hugging John around the shoulders, pecking him softly on the lips. "Congratulations, not that I really had any doubts to begin with."

"You might not, but God I was scared," John grinned, kissing him back. "God, I could kiss you all day," he whispered.

"I'll have to test that sometime," Sherlock replied with a smirk, releasing his partner reluctantly. John blushed, remembering that the rest of the group was in the room. He sat down next to Sherlock, draping one arm around the boy's shoulders; the dark haired boy leaned into John, his soft curls brushing the boy's neck.

Ianto mouthed the word 'newlyweds' to Jack as he stood to go make more coffee.

John grinned at Jack, missing Ianto's message. "So, what are we doing about living arrangements and stuff?"

"I think Ianto can probably find you guys a place to live...or let out his flat to you."

Sherlock looked up. "I can help look," he offered.

"No, I think Ianto might like this." When the Welshman returned with the coffee, Jack asked, "You think you could let out your flat to the boys? You don't really stay there much right now..." He winked at the coffee boy. Gwen snorted into her soda, coughing as she choked. Ianto gave Gwen a look but nodded. "Sure, no problem.". He looked up at the boys. "I'll show you there tonight."

Gwen got herself under control. "Sorry, Ianto," she gasped.

John grinned. "All right then." Then "What time is it?"

"2:30" Ianto told them. "When we get out of here is an entirely different matter."

"Why's that?" John asked

"Because when we get home depends entirely on how active the rift is."

Sherlock nodded, he remembered hearing something about the rift before. "Yeah, about that, what is the rift?"

"The rift is a rip in time and space, and sometimes, things fall through. Our job is to collect or round up whatever comes through and to protect Earth from it. Bit of a full time job sometimes," Jack replied, drinking his coffee.

"Sounds exciting," Sherlock said. "An adventure."

"It's never boring," Gwen chimed in just as the Rift alarm started going off. "Great bloody timing," she grumbled as they all dashed back up to the main room.

Sherlock went over to the computer that was lighting up; he examined the screen closely. Ianto jogged over, leaning over his shoulder with Gwen right behind.

"Rift activity in...bloody hell, Jack, it's right outside our front door!"

Jack grabbed his coat and gun. "Ianto, arm the boys. Gwen with me."

Ianto nodded. "Come with me," he ordered, leading the boys to where they kept the weapons. He took two pistols, loading them and handing them carefully to the two teenagers. "Don't aim it at a person, steady hand, and only shoot when absolutely necessary; we aren't looking to kill anything unless it's planning on killing us," he told them quickly. "Got it?"

Sherlock grabbed his coat and scarf before he went with Ianto. He picked the gun up carefully, having never held one before. "Got it."

"Shouldn't we get knives too? You know, just in case?" John asked, remembering the creatures from that morning and shuddering, sliding the gun into the waistband of his jeans and hiding it with his jumper. Ianto nodded, producing two sharp blades and laying them down carefully. He took one for himself and turned around "Okay, let's go."

John picked up the knife gingerly, glancing at Sherlock as he did the same. He quickly pulled the boy in for a kiss, hard and hot. "Just in case," he whispered, then nodded at Ianto. "Ready."

They left the hub quickly, running out front to meet Gwen and Jack.

Chapter Text

The only reason Jack and Gwen were still alive was because they were standing on the secret entrance, the one protected by the perception filter; Gwen was trying to keep still, staring at the three lupicarnes in front of them with wide eyes, clearly terrified. John recognized the beasts as soon as he saw them. "Sherlock, those are from this morning!" he hissed.


"Oh fuck," Ianto swore, moving the boys behind him instinctively.


John glanced at Sherlock. "What do we do? The knives should kill them, right?"


The boy bit his lip. "John, if anything happens-"


John felt his stomach clench, "No. I am not going to lose you nor you me. Not now. Not ever." The blonde stepped out from behind Ianto and planted his feet; his grip on the knife tightened, and, with pinpoint accuracy, he threw his knife...and it embedded itself right behind the heart of one of the beasts. The flesh sizzled and burned as the creature died, howling in surprise. The other two lupicarnes growled, stalking towards them. Sherlock pushed John back since he no longer had a knife, twirling his own around his finger as the creatures grew closer.


Ianto nodded at Sherlock to tell him it was go time. They both lunged forward, Ianto ducking a claw and stabbing his creature in the heart. Sherlock was just about to slash his in the chest when its paw knocked the knife from his hand, catching his arm in its mouth. He cried out as the sharp teeth tore into his skin.


"NO!" John roared, diving for the knife and whirling around, Jack and Gwen running to help them. The creature didn't hurt Sherlock any further, running off with the teenager struggling against its grip instead. "JOHN!" he shouted, reaching for the boy as he was pulled away. Sherlock felt his body numbing, losing consciousness slowly as the creature carried him away.




"SHERLOCK!" John started to run but strong arms grabbed him. "NO!" he yelled, straining against Jack. "We HAVE to follow him!"


"We follow him now and we all die, John. That thing isn't taking him far, and it has Rift energy clinging to it. We can track it. Plus, I slipped a tracker in Sherlock's pocket. Let's suit up and go after them."


John nodded, fighting back fear and tears as he followed Ianto back into the Hub. The Welshman couldn't help but feel partly responsible for all this, even though he knew it wasn't true. The tears fell silently now as John let Ianto sit him down on the sofa. He felt the man embrace him, and he sobbed into his shoulder. Ianto held the boy, rubbing his back. "It's okay, he'll be fine, we're not going to let anything happen to him," he said. "But we have to be strong right now, okay?"


John nodded, drawing shaky, ragged breaths. "Thanks."


Jack glanced at Gwen. "We need all the research Tosh had on these things. Now."


Gwen nodded, calling up the computer. "Oh fucking bag of wank," Gwen groaned. "This is really not good."


Ianto looked up. "What is it?" He asked.


"Lupicarnes: a mix of werewolf, human, and, something else, no idea what that is, deadly hunter and drone. Often used to seek out a desired prey to bring back to its master. Like a very deadly hunting dog. Claws are venomous (deadly), teeth venom acts as a sedative. Generally bows down to-" She broke off, wordlessly showing Jack.


"Captain John" he spat.


"Who's he?" asked John.


Ianto glared at the screen. "Lovely," he muttered.


"No, really, who is that?"


"Ex-time agent, ex-lover of mine as well," Jack growled, grabbing Ianto's hand possessively.


Ianto looked up "Well, what are we waiting for, let's go!" he shouted, "I'll drive."


Jack dashed to the weapons stash for guns and silver knives before heading to the car, jumping in after Gwen and John. "Step on it Ianto. Gwen, navigate."


Ianto slammed his foot down on the pedal, pulling out of the garage quickly.




Sherlock woke up suddenly, blinking in the bright light, his arm killing him. He groaned "Johhhn," the first person he wanted to see.


"Well, you know my name already. I feel like a bad host."


Sherlock glared into the dark, "Don't flatter yourself, who the hell are you?"


"Oh please, I'll flatter who I like, although are something quite unique, Sherlock Holmes


"I know. Now why have you been sending these things after me?" Just get to the point already!


"Not very modest. Good. Neither am I." The man stepped out of the shadows into the harsh light of the lamp above the boy. "Captain John Hart at your service," he smirked, giving a mock bow.


"Sorry, never heard of you," the boy replied as he sat back, feigning boredom.


"Don't play coy with me, I can tall you're frightfully interested. So, go on. Pull your party trick on me. I want to know what you can see."


Sherlock leaned forward; his cold blue eyes raked up and down the strange man. "You're like Jack, but not immortal; you don't have that look in your eyes, but you don't belong in this time period so...time travel?"


"Bravo. Ten points to you." Captain John walked right up to the boy, standing mere inches away. "What else, hmmm?"


" That watch...Jack has one, so an organization for time travel."


"Give the boy a prize, but you're holding out on me. I know you see soooo much more"


Sherlock shook his head. "You just kidnapped me with a werewolf; I'm not going to entertain you." 


"Lupicarne, Sherlock, lupicarne, and I think you will," Captain John purred, bringing his face down to Sherlock's level. "I think you very well will because if you don't, I have other...plans for you."


Though no emotions showed on his face, Sherlock panicked a little inside. He calmed himself down enough to reply, "I'm not playing your stupid game."


"Not yet, perhaps, but you will." Captain John's mouth trailed the adolescent's jaw back to his ear. "You will because if you don't, I'll take the place of your current...John"


Sherlock's eyes widened, leaning away from the man as much as he could. "Stay away from me," he warned


"Or what? You can't run, your friends aren't coming to rescue you, John couldn't even protect you. Such a shame," he murmured, nipping Sherlock's ear. Sherlock struggled against the bindings fruitlessly. "They are coming, they'll find me," he said through gritted teeth, more of a reassurance for himself than anything.


"Jack held your lover boy back and dragged him back into their little hide out. They aren't coming for you."


Sherlock shook his head. "No, they're coming, they'll find you. I know they will," he seethed.


"He's hotter when he's angry," Captain John grinned. "I bet you kiss better angry too. All teeth and tongue."


Sherlock closed his mouth tightly and shook his head vehemently; this was not happening. The Captain leaned in, lips just barely brushing Sherlock's. "Don't try to hide it," he purred before kissing the boy full on. Sherlock resisted, trying to shrink away from the man, turning his head away and leaning it backwards. It felt so wrong, so invasive...not at all like when he and his John had kissed before.


Captain John grabbed his face and forced him to stay still. "Don't even think about it," he growled before kissing again, forcing his tongue into Sherlock's mouth. Sherlock whimpered, and then something hit him. He bit down hard on the man's tongue.


"You little shit!" Captain John screamed, pulling out of Sherlock's mouth and backhanding the teenager. "You-you freak!"


"Fuck. You," Sherlock spat, ignoring the hand to his face. He had received much worse as a child.


"Oh? Daddy hit you too much as a child?" Captain John punched him this time, bruising and cutting Sherlock across the cheekbone. "Maybe I should just take you right now..."


Sherlock reeled from the punch. "Don't you fucking touch me," he hissed. 




"Five minutes away. Top story of the abandoned office building."


Ianto nodded, navigating the streets fairly easily since it was the middle of the day and after lunch.


"And right-HERE!" Gwen jerked forward when Ianto hit the brakes, the team piling out of the car only to face two lupicarnes. Jack and John took them down quickly, retrieving their knives and heading in. Ianto followed the two inside, holding his own knife at the ready.




Slicing the boy's bonds with his knife, Captain John dragged Sherlock to his feet and shoved him against the wall. "You're mine, boy," he spat, blood spraying Sherlock's cheek. Sherlock was pinned to the wall, his non-bloodstained cheek pressed to the cool concrete. Captain John had made short work of the boy's trousers before forcing himself in, grunting. "New at this?" he growled, thrusting in and out, making the boy scream as he fucked him into the wall.


His hands were held firmly in Captain John's as the man defiled the poor boy; he shrieked in pain, feeling blood trickle down his legs. Sherlock felt tears of pain and shame sting his face as he felt himself being degraded like this.


He could faintly hear the door open behind him, but it seemed so far away.




The trip upstairs was nerve wracking and uneventful, but when they reached a floor with two more lupicarnes, they knew they were close; then they heard Sherlock scream.


John was the first one in the room, dodging the beasts and tearing through the door. Ianto followed close behind, his face turning green at what he saw. He raised his gun, hands shaking furiously, but he would never get in a good shot. Jack was the only one to not hesitate, hand unflinching as he shot Captain John in the shoulder. "Get away from him," he snarled.


John dashed forward, shoving the man off Sherlock and tackling him, punching him repeatedly, applying hard pressure to the gunshot wound. "YOU-WILL-NEVER-HURT-HIM-AGAIN!"


Sherlock collapsed, groaning as he hit the floor. Ianto rushed to the boy's aid, pushing back the urge to be sick as he tried to comfort him. "We're here. I'm so sorry, Sherlock," he whispered.


Captain John cried out, losing his breath as the young boy tackled him. In between punches he smirked. "You're-John-then,-eh?"


Jack threw Ianto his coat and approached the Johns with Gwen. "John, you can stop now-"


The blonde boy ignored Jack in favor of jumping up and stamping on the other Captain's wound, grinding it into the floor. "I'LL KILL YOU!" he roared.


Ianto covered Sherlock with the coat, softly whispering words of comfort to him.


Captain John grunted as pressure was applied to his wound. "Hey Jack-long time-no see," he choked out.


"Shut it, you slime ball," Jack spat.


John dropped to his knees, hands at Captain John's throat and ready to squeeze the life out of him when he stopped, pulling out his knife and pressing it to the man's throat instead. "Say goodbye," he hissed before slicing him open and drenching the floor in blood.


Jack glanced at Gwen. "We need to clean all this up." She nodded back, heading for the car


Ianto looked over, horrified. This boy was barely an adult and he had just murdered a man in cold blood. John was numb as he stood, glaring down at the cooling corpse. He finally turned to face Sherlock, his anger and fear shining through in his tears. "Oh God, Sherlock," he gasped, flying to the boy's side.


Ianto, seeing that the injured boy was in good hands, went to a corner of the room, putting a hand on his stomach. Jack went to the man. "You ok?"


Ianto shook his head. "Give me a minute," he mumbled, waiting for the wave of nausea to hit him. Jack grabbed a bin from the corner, holding it up for Ianto, knowing what was coming. Ianto gripped his stomach, his body locking up as he vomited into the bin.


"Let it out," Jack rubbed Ianto's back, helping him sit and pressing the bin into his hands. "I've got you."


Sherlock was staring at the wall, not saying a word; he looked almost catatonic. He could still feel the man's hands on his wrists, his breath on his neck, him forcing his way in-he shuddered violently.


"Sherlock, Sherlock, Sherlock," John whispered over and over, taking the shaking boy in his arms and holding tight. "It's me, Sherlock, it's me. Come back to me, please, Sherlock, come back to me." He kissed him gently before kissing the cut on his cheek, his forehead, his nose. John rubbed his nose against Sherlock's, intimate and close like they had been in the car before all of this had happened. "Please."


Sherlock didn't look at him. He felt so ashamed, so dirty, and he couldn't look at John, choosing instead to just squeeze his eyes shut as tight as he could. 


"It's not your fault, it wasn't your fault. Sherlock, please, don't you dare shut down. You survived everything your father ever threw you, don't let me lose you now. Not now. God, please, just look at me!"


Sherlock forced himself to look at John, trying his best not to just break into hysterics then and there. John sobbed with relief, kissing him everywhere and hugging him. "I'm here, you're going to be fine, Oh God, you're going to be fine. I'll take care of you. I promise. I swear it Sherlock."


Sherlock broke down; he sobbed and sobbed in John's arms. The blonde boy soon lost track of which tears were his and which were Sherlock's. He clutched the boy tightly in his arms, kissing his cheeks and whispering in his ear, finally managing to pull Sherlock gingerly onto his lap and cradle him against his chest. Sherlock winced as he was moved, his whole body raw and sore, and blood was seeping through the coat covering him now. John felt Sherlock tense, suddenly aware of the warmth on his jeans. "Jack! He needs a doctor. NOW!"


Gwen made it back to the room then. "I've got it here, Jack. Leave Ianto with me."


Jack nodded, standing and crossing to pick up Sherlock in his arms, running down the stairs, John in tow.




Ianto was hit by another wave of nausea as he threw up into the bin. He spat as he sat back up, body still shaking. "Thanks Gwen," he said feebly.


"No problem. Just incinerating this scumbag," she hissed, lighting the dead man on fire. "We have to torch the place."


Ianto nodded, he stood. "Let's do it."


Helping Ianto to his feet, Gwen handed him matches. "The lupicarnes will really burn; I've doused them already, so torch them and run like hell."


Ianto took the box of matches, moving to the nearest group of lupicarnes and waiting for Gwen to be ready before lighting them and running downstairs, dropping matches on each group they passed until they were out of the building. Gwen dragged Ianto away from the growing conflagration, finally stopping for breath several streets away.


The Welshman turned to watch the fire once they stopped running. He could feel the heat from where they were standing. "Come on, I can't look at it," he told her, turning his back on the place and walking away. Gwen followed in silence as they walked back to the Hub


Ianto didn't speak most of the way. "Hell of a day," he finally said, exhaling loudly.


"You can say that again." Gwen let them into the shop, locking up behind them. "Closed for the rest of the day," she murmured. "God, I hope Sherlock is all right."


Ianto nodded. "He'll never be the same. Not after that."


Gwen looked at Ianto, studying his face. "That's what you were reliving all those years ago, wasn't it?"


Ianto squeezed his eyes shut, nodding. "Yeah," he said softly.


Gwen pulled him into a hug. "It's ok, you're safe, and he will pull through. He has John and Jack and me and you."


"I know," Ianto replied, moving to busy himself making coffee even though there was nobody to drink it.


"I'll take a cup when you've made it," Gwen said, setting about cleaning the Hub. Ianto nodded, making the coffee quickly and then handing a cup to Gwen. His hands were still shaking slightly, but it wasn't nearly as bad as before. Gwen took it before taking Ianto's hand and squeezing. "What can we do to help them when they get back?"


Ianto shrugged. "I don't know," he told her. "Just be there, listen if they need it, don't push if they don't." He remembered how people had tried to force him to talk to them and it only made him bottle it up more.


Gwen nodded. "Anything I can assist you with? Cleaning? Organizing? Make them a feast?"


Ianto chuckled, "Sure, just order some food, don't go overboard," he told her, going to clean up their lunch from the conference room. Gwen got on her mobile and ordered a Chinese, probably going a little over board but she didn't care. They were going to have a feast of Chinese takeaway and cheap beer, even the boys. Ianto finished the cleaning quickly, making sure everything would be comfortable, knowing Sherlock would be very sore when he returned.


Gwen waited impatiently in the store for the delivery, relaxing when it finally showed up. She paid and took it to the conference room. "A feast for the returning heroes."


Ianto sighed "Not going overboard?"


"Shut up. It's comfort food." Gwen teased, going to the fridge and pulling out two 6-packs and a few sodas, turning back to help arrange the food. "We'll need silverware, plates, and napkins."


Ianto nodded, bringing out paper plates and napkins and forks and knives and spoons and laying them all out on the table. "Just act normally," he told her, even though he knew that would be practically impossible.




Sherlock groaned as they made their way downstairs, feeling his vision become hazy once more as he began to nod off in Jack's arms.


"Stay with me, Sherlock," Jack whispered as they reached the car. He gently lay the boy in the backseat. "John, sit on the floor, hold him still." The blonde obeyed, holding Sherlock's hand tight in his own. Sherlock did his best to stay awake, trying to focus on anything. He wouldn't go like this, no way.


"Tell me about our first day together," John whispered, still crying. "The day you met me, when you came to live with me." The day that changed my life, he thought. Sherlock took a shaky breath. "I was seven, we were in the back yard, we played pirates together," he remembered, trying to hold on to the memory. "You gave me my scarf, and the arrowhead." 


"Mummy made pasta, and I told you I thought you were amazing. Your hair was just as curly then as it is now." John smoothed sweat-slick curls out of Sherlock's face. "Almost there, just hang on a little longer."


Sherlock nodded. "I remember. Nine years ago today, John. Happy anniversary," he smiled sadly. "I love you."


"I love you too." John's tears fell harder and he kissed Sherlock, pouring his love through his lips.


Jack pulled into the hospital, getting out and gently picking up Sherlock, carrying him in and giving him to the doctors, explaining what he could. He sat with John in the waiting room, trying to comfort the boy.


Doctors rushed in and out of the Emergency room, not bothering to stop and talk to Jack or John for a long time.  John was growing restless, anxiety about his best friend, his boyfriend, growing with every passing minute.


Eventually a Doctor came up to them asking if they were relatives. John nodded. "Foster brother. We've grown up together. This is our uncle, Jack. Distant relative."


The doctor said they could go through, taking them to Sherlock's room where the boy was staring at the wall again and looking even paler than usual. John darted to his bedside, pulling up the chair and taking his hand. "Sherlock?" he asked softly. Jack stood in the corner, unmoving, thinking about Ianto.


Sherlock looked at John and then back at the wall. "Hi, John." His voice was hoarse.


"Don't you dare, don't you dare shut down on me, Sherlock Sherrinford Holmes!" John's vehemence surprised him; Sherlock had told him his middle name once, and John had never dared use it before. "I don't care what he did to you. What I care about is that you won't let me help!"


Sherlock jumped at the outburst, shrinking away from John in his bed. "I'm sorry," he whispered softly, looking downwards.


"No, don't, aw shit," John groaned, lowering his voice. "I'd climb onto the bed with you, but I told the doctors we were foster brothers to get back here. You need to be held now, though. Sherlock, tell me what to do."


Sherlock smiled slightly, but his eyes were still sad. "Just stay here," he told him, squeezing John's hand; the sixteen-year-old looked so much older than he actually was and so fragile.  John kissed his cheek gently. "Promise me you'll talk when you're ready. I want to help. I really, really do."


He nodded. "I promise." He took a shaky breathe. "When can I go home? I hate hospitals."


John grabbed Sherlock's chart, glancing at it. "They should do a final check in a few minutes. It looks like you had a few stitches and there's no lasting damage, but you'll be sore." John glanced at the boy. "You're eyes look so much like Jack's right now," he whispered. Sherlock squeezed his eyes shut. "I know."


The doctors came in a few moments later, doing a last check of Sherlock, advising him to go easy, lie on his stomach, not to do any strenuous activities. They helped him up, wrapping him in a robe as his pants and trousers had been destroyed; Jack had somehow gotten his coat back so he could clean it.


Sherlock was embarrassed about being wrapped up, not having his clothes, having trouble walking; he had always been a very proud young man and it felt so humiliating to need help with these kinds of things. John held his hand the entire time, letting Sherlock lean on him if he needed. When they got to the car, he helped the boy lay down in the backseat, taking his hand again. Jack drove off, taking them back to the Hub


Sherlock lay on his stomach as he had been told, more because John would have had his skin if he didn't follow the doctor's orders, but also because he was hurting, and the pain seemed to outweigh his pride for once. John stroked the hair back from his face the entire ride, whispering words of love and comfort in his ear, and occasionally kissing his cheek and nose. Jack helped them both out of the car when they got back. "Your bags are in the main room if you'd like to change."


Sherlock nodded, limping towards the Hub. He took a deep breath and pressed on, refusing to let his injuries get the best of him.




Ianto had gone up to the tourist shop to wait for them. He opened the door for them quickly and went to Jack's side. Jack wrapped his arms around his lover, holding him silently for a few moments before looking at him.


"How's he doing?"


"Proud and stubborn. He won't talk about it, but I'm worried that means it's worse in his head."


"He just needs time, Jack. It's hard to tell people about things like that. He'll come around eventually, so just be there when he does."


Jack nodded, kissing Ianto before heading in. "Is there dinner?"


Ianto's lip twitched. "Gwen went a little overboard with the Chinese."


Jack smirked slightly. "I think we can all use a distraction," he said as they headed for the conference room.


"Okay." Ianto said, opening the door for Jack and letting him in. The immortal blinked as he took in the spread on the table, and then started howling.


"I told you she went overboard."


"Hey!" Gwen faked a look of hurt. "I have a bunch of boys to feed."


Ianto chuckled. "Alright," he said, grabbing a plate.




John led him through the doors, finding their bags where they'd left them. "Jack's office, come on," he whispered, slinging the bags over his shoulder. Sherlock followed silently, refusing to let John help him up the stairs; he wanted to be independent. John kept one eye on the boy until they got to Jack's office. He shut the door and went through Sherlock's bag first, handing him a new shirt, pants and trousers. Sherlock took the clothes, slowly pulling on his pants underneath the robe, wincing as the fabric touched his sore skin. The shirt wasn't as difficult, and after a bit, he had finally dressed himself.


John stripped and dressed, throwing on ratty jeans and an old jumper. He looked up at Sherlock as he re-tied his shoes, staring. "You look amazing," he whispered.


"I don't feel it, John," Sherlock mumbled, staring at his feet and contemplating putting his shoes back on before deciding it wasn't worth it. John stood and slowly crossed to the boy. "I'd like to hug you and kiss you if that's all right," he said, waiting for permission.


Sherlock nodded "Gently, please."


John tenderly took Sherlock in his arms, hand rubbing circles on the boy's back as he brushed their lips together. "I love you."


Sherlock closed his eyes. "I love you too," he whispered back, leaning down to kiss him a bit more firmly, but only just so. John took it, treasuring the chaste kiss and going no further. "Come on. Dinner."


John stopped dead when they reached the conference room, the table practically groaning under the weight of all the food. Squeezing Sherlock's hand, he walked forward to their seats. Sherlock took his place, wincing as he slowly lowered himself into the chair and noting that Ianto had clearly swapped it for a much softer one than he'd had before. "Thank you," he murmured, taking a plate and putting a small portion of food on it, prodding it with his fork..


John popped the top on two beers, handing one to Sherlock. "Eat your food and drink this. It'll help." John proceeded to pile his plate with dumplings, noodles, and entrees, sampling everything he could get his hands on.


Sherlock eyed the bottle, scrunching his nose at it. "I don't drink." He had always told himself he would never drink alcohol because of his father, but he found himself thoroughly intrigued by the thought of slowing down his mind for once. 


"You are not your father," John whispered. "And it will dull the pain." He took a long pull from his own bottle, raising it to the table. "Cheers."


Sherlock nodded, clinking his bottle against John's and taking a reluctant sip. He coughed a bit. "That is disgusting," he choked, holding it to eye level. "Does it always taste like that?"


Jack chuckled. "Only for the first few sips if you aren't use to it. After that, it's not half bad."


Sherlock nodded, taking another sip; he forced himself to stomach the stuff, wanting more than anything to stop his brain from playing the memories over and over again in his head. John drank and ate, stuffing himself, the slow warmth of the alcohol numbing everything slightly.


Eventually, Sherlock became used to the taste, finishing off the bottle. He began to feel a haze spreading across his mind. Ianto watched, slightly concerned. He wasn't sure it was right for Sherlock to be pushing his problems away with alcohol, not at a time like this. John glanced at Ianto and saw his expression, grabbing Sherlock a bottle of water. "Here."


Sherlock shook his head. "I'm done." He had never felt like this, the warmth spreading through his body and the thin veil falling across his mind, suppressing the memories that haunted him.


"Ok, but promise you'll finish the water before bed. And eat a bit more, Sherlock, you don't want that on an empty stomach."


Sherlock sighed. "Fine," he agreed, taking a sip of the water and nipping at the food on his plate. He didn't want the feeling to go away, not just yet.


"The buzz will last Sherlock," Jack said quietly, watching the boy. "We just want to make sure you don't get sick."


He nodded, eating more.  Ianto watched the boy, and his heart went out to him. He knew what it was like, and he was just glad the boy had people to take care of him and keep him from making the wrong decisions.


Once he had finished eating, Sherlock pushed his plate away. "There." His words sounding a bit slower than usual. John smiled slightly. "Feel better?"


"Much better." He leaned over and kissed John softly on the lips; Sherlock's breath smelled of alcohol, and he was clearly drunk, not having a high tolerance for the stuff at all, especially since he had initially been drinking on an empty stomach. John sighed, kissing Sherlock a few more times before resting their heads together. "You're drunk, love," he whispered.


"I know." Sherlock told him, chuckling slightly.


Ianto watched, leaning over to Jack. "Do you think I should take them back soon?"


"To your place? Probably."


"I don't want to go too far," John whispered. "I want you to still know where your limits are, love."


"I'll get the car ready, send them up in ten." Ianto kissed Jack on the forehead and went to warm up the SUV.


Sherlock huffed. "Fine," he agreed, leaning in again to kiss John, sloppily. John kissed back this time, adding a little more tongue than before, still careful but loving, but he soon leaned closer and stroked Sherlock's head. His boyfriend was not nearly as coordinated as he usually was, his tongue wandering about carelessly. It was messy and not exactly the most pleasurable thing in the world, but the drunk boy couldn't seem to tell the difference.  John worked around him, stroking and sucking gently, his fingers rubbing circles on Sherlock's scalp. He would have stayed there if Jack hadn't come over and said, "Time to go."


Sherlock pulled away, looking up at Jack, his eyes glazed over. He stood, leaning on the wall for support as he made his way out of the Hub. John grabbed their bags and left with Sherlock, sitting on the floor as the boy lay on the backseat, smiling a bit as they pulled away.


Ianto looked in the rearview mirror, making sure the drunk teenager was okay as he drove to his flat. John helped Sherlock out when they got there, keeping him from stumbling up the stairs. The Welshman followed the boys, making sure neither of them fell; once they reached his flat he let them in.


The place was very clean and small but comfortable. He showed them to the bedroom where he clearly hadn't slept in quite a while. "Sheets are clean, make yourselves at home."


"Thanks, Ianto," John replied, helping Sherlock onto the bed.


"No problem," he said, nodding curtly. "I'm just going to grab a few things and I'll be off. There's a telly in the living room and some food and things in the kitchen." He grabbed some clothes from the dresser before leaving them alone.


Sherlock lay on his stomach. "I love you John." He slurred, resting his head on the pillow.


John waited until he heard the door shut behind the Welshman before he toed off his shoes and climbed up next to Sherlock. "I love you too," he whispered back.


"I'm tired, can I sleep?" he asked. 


"Yes, love. Sleep. I'll hold you."


Sherlock nodded, closing his eyes and quickly drifting to sleep. His breathing evened and his face looked slightly less worried than before. John pulled the comforter up over them, wrapping his arms around Sherlock and kissing the boy's forehead. "Sleep, love, I'll protect you." Soon, his breathing slowed and he was out, cradling the boy against him.





Ianto entered the hub again, seeking out Jack.


Gwen waved at Ianto as she left. "Night"


"Night." Ianto waved back. "Where's Jack?"




Ianto nodded, waving again. "Thanks. See you in the morning." He hopped up the stairs, knocking on the door to Jack's office.


"Come on in, love," Jack called.

Ianto entered, sighing. "Hey."


Jack rose and crossed to him, kissing him hard and pulling him close. "Hey yourself," he whispered. Ianto wrapped his arms around his lover's neck. "I missed you."


"Missed you too." Jack rested their foreheads together. "D'you think they'll make it? The newlyweds? Sherlock's gonna have a hell of a time with this."


"I really hope so, Jack; they don't have much else."


"Knowing what he's going through, is there a chance?"


"I think so, John seems like a nice kid, and he did kill a man for Sherlock...I think it can happen."


"Good. Now, let's get some rest. Tomorrow...well, tomorrow we need to start them on training."


Ianto nodded, glad to get some rest with Jack. He followed him down to the bunker where they both changed into pajama bottoms and crawled into bed, Ianto falling asleep almost instantly with his head on Jack's chest; the immortal didn't shut his eyes that night.

Chapter Text

By the time Sherlock and John arrived at Torchwood the next morning, the pale boy was sore, limping, and had a splitting headache, but he was determined to push through. Ianto grinned as the boys came back to the Hub. "Morning." He greeted, setting out coffee for everybody.


John struggled not to watch Sherlock nonstop, but it was bloody difficult when every step made him wince. "Morning," John replied, grabbing his coffee and just barely remembering to blow on it before taking a sip. "God, Ianto, this is the best coffee ever! How the hell are you that good?"


"Can't tell everybody or I'd be out of a job," the Welshman chuckled, leading the two boys to the training area. John glanced at Sherlock. "How you holding up?"


"Just fine, John." Sherlock told him, sipping at his coffee quietly. "How are you?"


"Good. It was really nice to hold you last night," John replied.


"Yeah, thank you." Sherlock said. He had been glad John was there. That way when he woke from his nightmares, he wasn't alone. John saw the shadow cross his lover's face. He didn't know whether to say something, so he settle for squeezing Sherlock's shoulder and sipping his coffee. Sherlock nodded at him to let him know he was fine. "So what are we being trained for today?"


Ianto looked up and smirked, glad to see the boys were still getting on well. "I think we're working on some weapons training."


Jack strode in. "Morning you two. Thought we'd start in the shooting range this morning. Finish your coffee and be downstairs in five." He winked at Ianto before disappearing.


"Okay." Sherlock said, drinking his coffee silently. Ianto smirked, picking up his coffee and heading downstairs to say good morning.


John finished first, waiting for Sherlock before heading down. Sherlock finished the rest quickly, taking John's hand as he limped downstairs. He would never admit it, but he did so partly so he could lean on the boy for support.


Jack looked up as Ianto arrived. "Morning love"


"Morning," he greeted. He looked down at everything on the table. "Looks like fun."


"Should be," Jack replied, turning as the boys arrived. "Morning!"


Sherlock nodded at Jack, walking over to the table and inspecting the weapons. "Interesting."


"Figured we'd start with the basics- handgun, knives, and the mini-crossbow before Ianto takes you for some hand-to-hand training. Which looks god to you?"


Sherlock picked up a shiny pistol from the table, turning it over gingerly. "This one."


John followed suit, taking one of the other small handguns. Jack handed them each ear protection and goggles before leading them to the shooting range. He explained how the gun worked and gestured to the targets. "Let's see what you can do."


Sherlock secured the goggles and ear protection before stepping up and looking at the targets. He cocked it back, taking aim at the target and hoping he wasn't doing it completely wrong. Jack stepped in and adjusted his position very slightly before tapping his shoulder. "Go."


The boy took a deep breath, squeezing the trigger. A hole appeared just to the left of the heart of one of the targets. He looked up in surprise. "I did that?"


John stared. "Remind me not to cross you," he teased, grinning.


"Try again."


Sherlock nodded, preparing himself and taking aim again, pulling the trigger, another hole in the target.  John watched as Sherlock emptied his clip, each shot closer to the heart until the last one pierced it dead center. When Sherlock took off the ear protection, John set his own gun down and hugged him. "You're amazing," he whispered. Sherlock smiled, hugging back. "Thanks, your turn," he murmured, nudging the blonde toward the firing line.


John picked up his gun, going to stand in front of his target. He took careful aim and fired, clipping the edge of the bulls eye; the boy emptied his clip quickly, several of the holes in the center of the target.


"You're even more amazing, it would seem."


"Handy with a gun," John grinned, picking up a knife and whirling around, throwing it into the head of another target. "Picked up a few tricks yesterday."


"A few?" Sherlock asked, raising an eyebrow. 


Ianto grinned. John would be an excellent fighter, which would come in handy.


"You try," he said. "Bet you can't do that"


"Bet you I can't," Sherlock agreed, picking up a knife and flicking it towards the target. It went right past it, and he laughed. John joined in, coming over to him. "Hold it here, like this," he said, positioning Sherlock's hand. "When you throw it, it's more of a flick; that makes it spin right."


He nodded, allowing John to position his hands and flicking it. It hit the dummy right below the heart. John clapped, jumping up and down. "That's it!!"


Sherlock grinned. "Thanks," he said, kissing John on the lips softly. John kissed back, arms draped around Sherlock's shoulders, the other boy's hands on his hips for extra support.


Jack shot Ianto a grin that the Welshman returned; both were glad to see the teens were doing okay. "Okay, newlyweds, maybe we should get on the crossbow."


John flushed, kissing Sherlock once more before letting go. "Newlyweds?"


"Yep, newlyweds," Ianto confirmed, picking up the small crossbow. John took it, examining it closely before turning, aiming, and firing. He shot Sherlock a grin. "That one'll talk like a girl the rest of his life."


Sherlock laughed. "Very nice"


Ianto chuckled as well. "You're a crack shot, John."


"Thanks." John reloaded it and handed it to Sherlock. "Your turn."


The boy took aim carefully before shooting, grinning as it pierced the throat. "Perfect."


"You aren't half bad yourself," John grinned, turning to Jack and Ianto. "Hand to hand next?"


"Yep, it'll be fun," Ianto promised, looking to Sherlock. "I don't want you overexerting yourself, understand?"


Sherlock nodded as John took his hand. "Where to, oh great Zen master?" the blonde teased, squeezing his boyfriend's hand. Jack chuckled, pecking Ianto on the cheek


"This way," he said, leading them to a room with mats on the floor. It was fairly small, but just big enough to serve its purpose.


John just crossed the threshold when he went flying.


Sherlock ran over to him, wincing as pain shot through his lower half. "John!" he shouted. The boy picked himself up, growling at Ianto. "That-fucking-hurt!"


Ianto grinned. "Then you have to learn to stop it."


Sherlock gave him a funny look; he wouldn't have pinned the unassuming man as a fighter. John glared, shifting his stance. "Back up, Sherlock," he muttered. Sherlock did so, gingerly taking a seat on a stack of mats in the corner.


Ianto stood at the ready, grinning smugly. John circled with the coffee boy, watching carefully. "Suddenly lethal?"


Ianto chuckled. "You sound surprised."


John feinted, observing how Ianto didn't even flinch. "Maybe."


"That's good. Element of surprise is always good."


Feinting a few more times, John finally threw a punch...which Ianto caught. "Shit!"


"Nice try," Ianto smirked, knocking the hand away and throwing a punch to the boy's stomach. John doubled over, gasping for air as he dropped and grunting as he hit the floor. Ianto reached down to help him up. "Only a tap."


Without warning John socked Ianto in the solar plexus, driving the air from him and sweeping his feet out from under him. Ianto sputtered, standing slowly. "Very-good," he wheezed, giving the boy a thumbs up. Sherlock beamed at John proudly.


John backed up a few steps, safely out of reach of the coffee boy. Ianto regained his composure after a minute. "Very good. Let's see what else you've got."


John raised his fists. "Ready when you are."


Ianto nodded, diving forward to sweep John's legs out from under him. John jumped, kicking Ianto in the rear; he stumbled forward for a moment before turning to face the blonde again. "Smart."


John grinned, winking at Sherlock, dodging when Ianto tried to take advantage of his distraction.


"That's good. Why don't you try attacking now?"


"Because you'll kick my arse," John muttered before attacking, twisting Ianto's arm behind him.


"Maybe not."


John went to flip the Welshman but suddenly found himself on the floor, a hand on the back of his head. "How the-"


Ianto grinned, "You're right, I'll kick your arse," he chuckled.


"Fuck," John spat as he picked himself up, tackling Ianto to the mat. The older man gasped in surprise and grunted as he hit the floor. John pinned him, trapping him with arms and legs. "Surrender?"


Ianto nodded. "For now, kid."


John let him up, going back to sit next to Sherlock. "How'd I do, love?"


Sherlock grinned at him "You were great."


"Thanks," John kissed him quickly. "Your turn, I think."


Ianto shook his head. "Another time."


Sherlock sighed. "He doesn't want my stitches opening up."


Ahhhh. "Well, we are done for now, and I need to sit for a moment..." John gave Sherlock a hopeful look.


Ianto stood, brushing off his suit instinctively as Sherlock scooted over to give John room to sit down, wincing slightly. John pulled the pale boy against him gently, rubbing circles on his back. "You are so gorgeous," he whispered.


Sherlock shook his head. "No I'm not," he sighed, leaning his head on John's shoulder.


"What will it take for you to see that you are?"


"John, I don't want to talk about this right now," he sighed wearily. "Later."


"Oh." John said, dropping it. He kissed the top of Sherlock's head and glanced at Ianto. "What's next?"


"Follow me, class," he said with a grin, leading them to storage. "This is where we keep all of the alien stuff."


John looked around, keeping a firm grip on Sherlock's hand. "So, anything you collect from aliens gets kept here?"


"Pretty much. It gets catalogued based on its function and if it's harmful or not, and put away accordingly."


"How do you know what's harmful?"


"Well, if it tries to kill you, that tells you something. A lot of times, we only find out after it starts doing whatever it was designed to do."


"Brilliant," John muttered. "We're walking into a death trap operation. At least we've got a warning."


"Hey, Torchwood is a dangerous place, comes with the job."


"What else do we need to know?"


"That's...about it really, the rest comes from experience."


John sighed, rubbing circles on the back of Sherlock's hand. "Thanks, Ianto. I-we really appreciate it." Sherlock nodded, agreeing.

"No problem, somebody has to do it." Ianto told them


"What's the plan for the rest of the day? Wait for the rift?"


Ianto nodded. "I need to go up and keep an eye on the tourist shop," he told them, leading them back upstairs to the central room of the Hub and leaving for the front.


John stood there for a moment before turning to Sherlock. "What do you want to do?"


The boy shrugged, he went over and sat down on the couch, looking at the floor. John followed, sitting in silence for a while. "Can-can I help?"


Sherlock leaned against John. "I can feel him, John," he whispered. "I can feel him touching me."


John paled. "Where can you feel him? Where can you feel that creep?"


He squeezed his eyes shut. "My wrists. My hips." His voice lowered even further. "I can feel him inside me, John."


John took Sherlock's hands very gently, undoing the cuffs and rolling his sleeves up. He massaged the skin there before kissing it, peppering Sherlock's wrists with tender gestures of his love, tears silently rolling down the younger boy's pale face; he felt helpless, worthless as he watched John kiss his skin, trying to fix him. "John, what else am I supposed to be? I could tell you everything is fine but everything is not fine."


"Then let me in. Let me share your burden. Don't think you have to carry this on your own, Sherlock."


"Okay...what do you want me to tell you?"


"Tell me what happened. Tell me everything. Pretend you watched it happen if you have to. I need to know what I failed to save you from."


"It's not your fault, John." He said sternly. "But this is what happened." He took a deep breath. "I woke up...and I was tied to the chair. I asked for you but...his name was John. He wanted me to deduce things, and I wouldn't. He started...kissing me."


John felt all the blood drain from his face. "He-he had my name?...So, so when I kiss you-"


"No," Sherlock said firmly. "You are you and he's not taking that away from me...So he...he forced my mouth. And I bit him. He hit me."


John winced, fingers brushing over the faint bruise on Sherlock's cheek. "Good for you fighting back," he whispered.


"Well, then he pinned me to the wall and...He..." the boy strained to get the words out.


"Deep breath, I know it's awful, Sherlock, I'm here."


He took a deep, shaky breath. "He fucked me," he finally said, choosing the quickest possible way to describe what had been done to him. John's eyes filled with tears."Oh god, Sherlock," he whispered, voice catching in his throat. "He never should have even gotten that far. I should've been there, should've protected you better, god I'm so, so sorry I wasn't there."


Sherlock shook his head. "Stop it, that's exactly what he said and he was wrong. You did everything you could!" he retorted, raising his voice; if John were having a hard time believing it, then it was even harder for Sherlock to be sure of himself.


"He said I wasn't coming? The bastard said I wasn't coming for you?!" John was angry now. "Look me in the eye Sherlock. Look at me!" He waited for the boy's gorgeous blue eyes to meet his. "I will always, always come for you, even if I'm running late, even if you're trapped. I will always find you."


Sherlock looked at him, tears rolling in a steady stream down his face. "I know, I know you will," he whispered, a smile breaking through his grim expression.


"That's the smile I've been looking for," John whispered, kissing the bruise on Sherlock's cheek before caressing his lips. Sherlock grinned at him, kissing back eagerly. John was right; it felt so much better to tell somebody, to share the weight.


"You're back," John whispered.


"Getting there." Sherlock said, running a hand through the boy's hair. John smiled at the touch, kissing back and tangling his hands in Sherlock's dark curls. "I love you."


"I love you too. More than you could possibly know."


"Well take the rest of it slow, your pace."


"Thank you." He said, pressing his forehead against John's


John caught his breath, laughing softly. "Of course. Oh God, of course. How much can I show you of my love right now?"


"Just kiss me right now, John. I'm too sore for much else."


"I can live with that," John chuckled, pulling Sherlock close and kissing him deeply. Sherlock wrapped his arms around John's shoulders, kissing him back.


They snogged for a while, John pouring every ounce of love into it. Eventually the dark-haired boy pulled away, resting their foreheads together. He didn't say anything, just sat there studying John. John stared back into Sherlock's eyes, panting, grinning. "What?"


"Nothing. Just looking."


"I'm really that interesting?"

"Absolutely. Not hard to look at're beautiful."


John flushed pink. "God, you really think so? I could look at you forever, handsome."

"I do think so." Then "I love you," he whispered softly. John felt his heart swell. "I love you too, Sherlock," he whispered back, kissing the boy gently before hugging him. "I'm so glad to have you back, love."


"Glad to be back, John. So now we wait?" he asked, gesturing to the rift activity monitor.


John shrugged. "I-well, I suppose so. Unless you want to go practice with the weapons a bit more."


"Sounds like fun."


Taking his hand, John led the way back to the weapons room. "What do you want to work with first?"


"I want to try my hand at the knives again. How about you?"


"I think I'll watch for a bit. I'm good with them."

The taller boy nodded, picking up one of the knives and eyeing it for a moment before lining up with his target.


"Relax the wrist, and remember the flick."


He took a deep breath and relaxed his muscles before quickly flicking the blade out of his hand and into the heart of the dummy. His face lit up and he turned around to hug John.


"You're a natural!"


"Not at all. You helped me."


"Two notes. I gave you two notes." John was beaming though, holding the boy as though he never wanted to let go. "All right. What do you want to see me do?"


"Hmmm..." Sherlock thought for a moment before pointing to a pistol on the table. John picked it up, checking the rounds before putting on the goggles. "Where do you want me to aim?" he asked.


"It's your target."


John put on the ear protection and faced the doorway, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes. He whirled around without warning and fired, two bullets to the head, the rest to the body, and one to the heart.


Sherlock smiled at him, "Lethal."


John turned to him dropping the gun and ear protection on the table, sliding the goggles up on his head. "Very," he purred, pulling Sherlock in for a kiss' he claimed the boy's mouth as his own, one hand tangled in the dark curls while the other rubbed circles on his lower back. Sherlock parted his lips, toying with a lock of blond hair on the back of John's head, a smirk playing at his mouth ever so slightly to hear John moan softly. His boyfriend explored his mouth with new interest, clearly working to rid it of any residual feelings of the creep. Their tongues met, dancing around for some time before John finally pulled back, reluctantly breaking the kiss to hug Sherlock tight, swaying slightly back and forth, just like they were dancing. "That's it. The next time we get a break from here, I'm taking you to a club and I'm going to dance with you and make us the envy of every single person there," John murmured into Sherlock's ear, continuing to sway as he gently kissed is neck.


"It's a date," the pale boy replied, resting his chin on John's shoulder and allowing him to kiss his neck, small noises of pleasure humming out of his throat. Each noise Sherlock made gave John a thrill of joy.


"Wanna try that on me?" he whispered, breath ghosting against the boy's flushed skin.


Sherlock nodded. He lifted his chin and tilted it down so he could brush his lips softly against John's neck. The blonde whimpered softly, tilting his head away ever so slightly, giving Sherlock more to work with. Sherlock sucked gently on the skin, running his tongue across it, experimenting.


"G-god, that's good," John murmured, breathing catching every so often. "Try kissing harder or sucking or using your teeth."


Sherlock did, biting down on the skin gently, and sucking on it. "Like that?"


John shivered. "Oh God, yes." he groaned, eyes fluttering shut as Sherlock worked his neck. Sherlock grinned and set back to it, working the skin just under John's chin with his teeth. John felt his jeans tighten, Sherlock's every move setting him on edge, but he didn't want the boy to know, but they were so close together. "You-you're-a-amazing" he gasped.


"I know," Sherlock murmured, smirking into John's throat. 


John growled softly. "You drive me crazy, Sherlock, positively insane with love and desire, darling."


"You know, you aren't so easy to resist either," he purred.


"You keep going like this and I'll kiss your trousers right off your skinny frame."


"Now that would be something to see. But I don't think I'm ready for that just yet, love."


"Then we'd better stop, love. I don't trust my self control completely yet."


"Okay," Sherlock agreed, pulling away. "I'm sorry."


"It's fine."


"Are...are we still on for dancing?"


"Ohhh, you bet."


"Good, can't wait."


Kissing Sherlock on the forehead, John released him. "Upstairs," he said, taking the boy's hand. "Let's find Ianto in the shop and bug him."


"Sounds like fun."




Ianto was sitting behind the desk with a cup of coffee, as always, bored. John punched him playfully in the shoulder before strolling around the shop. "God, it's dull up here," he said, grinning at Sherlock. "Jack never come visit you at work?"


Ianto looked up. "Sometimes, but like you said, it's dull."


John leaned against the counter, glancing up at the older man. "Teases you and leaves you, I bet," noticing the wire in Ianto's ear. "Oh, or perhaps he just whispers in your ear like a little bee?"


Ianto smirked. "Is the pot calling the kettle black, Watson?"


"No idea what you mean." John idly twirled a souvenir pencil between his fingers.


"Little get togethers at work. The dancing was cute by the way."


John felt his face flush, realizing that Ianto was truly the eyes of Torchwood. His clever retort died on his lips, and he glanced at Sherlock, asking for help with his eyes. Sherlock chuckled. "Very nice." 

Ianto looked up at them. "Nobody knows more about this place than I do."


Sherlock nudged John. "Oh come on."


"Oh come on, what? I'm outnumbered by geniuses."


"You have to admit that was clever." Sherlock said.


Ianto grinned. "See? I'm clever."


John glared at them, giving a long, suffering sigh. "You two are perfect for each other."


"I beg to differ." Sherlock said, wrapping his arms around John's waist. John leaned against his boyfriend, resting his head on his shoulder and letting Sherlock cradle him. He shot Ianto a smirk. "At least I'm with mine all the time."


Ianto frowned "I have work to do, and so does he. Can't be clingy."


"We're at work. I wouldn't call this clingy."


Ianto grinned. "Why don't we all just stop taking shots now?"


John sighed. "Fine. Any recommendations to stave off boredom? Snogging works until I can't keep my mind out of the gutter, and we've both trained today."


Ianto thought about it. "We could play ball down in the Hub."


"Like basketball?" John raised an eyebrow. "Won't we break something?"


"We play a lot, just need to be careful." 


John laughed, twisting slightly in Sherlock's grasp like he used to when they were children. "Fine. I'm in."


"Great, let's go." Ianto led them down to the Hub, calling for Jack and Gwen to see if they wanted to play. Both came running, Gwen clearly trying to rub dried drool out of the corner of her mouth.


Jack swept Ianto in an embrace and a kiss. "Playing with balls, are we?" he whispered.


"Down boy."


"That an order?" Jack grinned before pulling back. "2 on 2? I know we're not even, but Sherlock, I really don't want you hurting yourself." He knew the danger of bringing it up, but if the footage Ianto sent him was any indication, maybe the boy would be fine given some time.


Sherlock sighed and nodded, sitting down to watch. Ianto gave the boy a sympathetic look before turning back to play. John walked over, kissing him quickly. "You can do whatever you want to me later, love. Hell, pin me down and snog me mercilessly, I don't care. I love you and I'm rooting for you." John grinned, heading back over as Jack split the teams: him and Gwen versus John and Ianto.


The newest Torchwood doctor was surprised to discover that he wasn't half bad at the game, although he did try to stay out of Jack's way and just cover Gwen as the ex-Time Agent could dribble circles around everyone except Ianto. Sherlock cheered them on as they played, smiling at John whenever he looked over to show he was okay.

Ianto was pretty good, stealing the ball and tossing it to John who caught it and shot. "YES!" he cheered, hi-fiving Ianto as the ball went through the hoop.


"Nice shot, Watson!"


John shot Sherlock a grin. "How was that?" he called, turning back to the game just as Jack stole the ball.


"Good job!" Sherlock yelled back, watching them play. Ianto was in front of Jack, ready to knock the ball out of the air when he shot it. John dashed forward, dodging Gwen and catching the ball, throwing it to Ianto who took it, shooting it into the basket and cheering. He shot Jack a teasing grin.


Grabbing the ball, the immortal growled softly. "All right then." He passed to Gwen who threw it back as he dribbled circles around John, keeping the by between him and the Welshman; Ianto tried to keep between Jack and the hoop. Dashing around John, Jack passed to Gwen and yanked Ianto into a hard, rough kiss as Gwen scored. Ianto look surprised, kissing back; only when they had pulled apart did he protest. "That's cheating!" he said indignantly, but he couldn't keep a straight face.


Jack raised an eyebrow. "Yes, but we're tied now. Next point wins." He nipped Ianto's earlobe before tossing the ball to John. "Ready kid?"


John nodded, passing to Ianto. Ianto smirked at Jack, dribbling around him and shooting for the basket. John saw Jack move and acted, leaping and tackling the immortal, letting the ball pass through. "YES!" he cheered jumping up and running to hug Ianto. Ianto hugged him and then moved to help Jack up, offering a hand. "Good game."


"I'm sitting out next round," Gwen announced. "I want to see Jack and Sherlock against Ianto and John." She winked at the blonde before retrieving the ball.


Jack pouted for all of three seconds before smirking. "Trained the boy well."


"I certainly did," he said, pulling Jack to his feet. "Who's hungry? I can order some lunch?"


"Or we could finish last night's feast...or did we eat it all?" John asked, striding over to Sherlock.


"Okay, leftovers it is." Ianto agreed, going to fetch the food from last night. 

Sherlock looked up at John. "You did very well."


John wrapped his arms lazily around the boy. "You think so?"


"Absolutely." He returned the hug, smiling slightly.


"Can't wait to play against you," John murmured in Sherlock's ear, grinning. "Soon, I hope. Get you all healed and better."


"I look forward to it."


"Come on," John said, helping Sherlock up. "Let's get some lunch, see if we can't get a bite or two of food in you."


Sherlock followed, his gait still stiff and awkward, but slowly getting better. John kept his arm around the boy's waist as they all convened in the conference room. Sherlock took his seat as Ianto brought in the reheated leftovers and set them on the table, sitting down next to Jack and giving him a quick smile. John speared one of the dumplings on his fork, holding it out to his lover. "Shall I feed you today?" he grinned, teasing. Sherlock rolled his eyes with a grin and took a small bite of the food,  swallowing it. John finished it, eating slowly, taunting Sherlock to come and get the rest.


Sherlock chuckled. "Not hungry thanks."


John rolled his eyes. "You are insufferable," he said, accidentally spraying food on the table. "Shit."


Sherlock laughed, handing John a napkin. "Sorry."


John took it and wiped up his spill. "Don't worry about it. I always hope you'll eat more."


"Not gonna happen. Eating is tedious."


"Tedious but necessary. Gotta take care of your transport, but you did eat a lot last night. Fine. I won't push."


"Thank you."  He sat and watched the others eat, and Jack soon found himself watching the boy, studying him. He was glad to see Sherlock looking so alert. "What's going on in that brilliant mind of yours? Mind sharing with the table? Anything we should know?"


"Do we have to do this again?" he asked, looking up at John.


The blonde shot Jack a look. "Stay out of it. He'll tell you when he's ready."


Jack was taken aback by John's harsh response but nodded. "He always was a dick. Captain Hart. Dunno what I ever saw in him."


"Wait, you dated him?" Sherlock asked, leaning across the table.


Jack sighed. "Yes, unfortunately. Even got trapped in a time loop with him at one point for something like ten years. It was like being married to the man. he's been to rehab for everything from drugs to sex to murder."


"Interesting choice," Sherlock said sarcastically; he would have taken a full shot at Jack's taste in partners, but he knew Ianto was a decent person.


"No, go ahead, you are more than welcome to take a shot at Hart," Jack replied, lacing fingers with Ianto under the table.


"Oh I just find it interesting that you were in a relationship with a rapist."


John's head snapped around to look at Sherlock, surprised at the venom in his voice, but he stayed silent, glancing at Gwen to see her fists clenched on the table. Jack clenched his jaw slightly. "Yes, well, some would say that's how we met. I'm something of a glutton for punishment."


"You're kidding right?" The pale boy was trembling slightly.


"If only I were. I was very stupid back then and he was smooth talking and got me quite spectacularly drunk. But I was seeing someone and didn't want anything to happen, think he slipped me something because everything got really hazy after that."


"And you stayed like that?! You enjoyed it?!" he asked incredulously, his voice slowly raising in volume as he spoke.


"Told you-glutton for punishment. I broke up my relationship with the other person a few weeks later and stayed with Hart. Didn't help that we were assigned each other at the Time Agency as well..that's part of how we got trapped together; he was being an arse."


Sherlock couldn't listen to anymore. He stood and walked out of the conference room without a word. John groaned loudly. "You fucking arse, Jack," he spat before hurrying after the boy.


Gwen sighed. "Well, that went well."


Ianto squeezed Jack's hand. He knew this wasn't Jack's fault, he had just been telling the truth, but he also understood why Sherlock was upset.




Sherlock was on the small sofa, head in hands and shaking angrily. John came up the stairs, finding Sherlock almost immediately. "Can I do anything?"


He shook his head. "I just can't fucking believe it."


"That Jack is such an idiot? I can't either." John sat down on the sofa, facing his boyfriend.


"It's could he have gone through that and enjoyed it?"


"Well, the moron said he was a glutton for punishment, and he was also much older I think when it happened. He'd been around the block many times from what I could tell. It wasn't new or shocking for him the way it was for you. Plus he was drugged. Don't know if that makes it better. And some people like the abusive bit."


"I just don't get it. It hurt so much and it was the most degrading that could ever happen and it's somehow enjoyable? Enough so to be in a committed relationship with the person who did it to you?"


"Stockholm Syndrome?"


Sherlock shook his head, rubbing his face with the heel of his palms wearily. John slowly moved closer, reaching out a tentative hand to the boy's back. "You never said before that it was degrading." The words burned a slow fire in John's heart of anger and hatred for the man that had done this, the man he'd killed.


"Well it is. It's the most awful thing that could ever happen and it is never going to go away."


"Sherlock, you-you're going to have to let it go, make peace with it. Holding onto it is only going to make it worse." John shoved his tears down, wishing he could turn back time and save Sherlock from the lupicarnes before any of this had happened.


"I'm not trying to hold onto it, John, I want to forget it. He raped me," he forced out. "It's embarrassing and it makes me feel like garbage. Worthless."


John grabbed Sherlock's shoulders and forced the boy to meet his gaze. "Listen to me, Sherlock Holmes. I've known you for nine years, the best nine years of my life. I know your dad was horrible to you, and I also know we had finally gotten you through that. You were happy living with me, my family. I fell in love with you over the past few years, and I care for you more than I do for myself. Because You. Are. Worth. It. And I will say it every day until we die of old age. You are not garbage. You are not worthless. You are my sun and life and light. Sherlock, you are my heart."


The dark haired boy looked up at him, his eyes swimming. "You are so wonderful," he whispered, hugging John tightly. "Thank you."


John kept him close, rubbing his back, stroking his hair, whispering "I love you" over and over, wanting Sherlock to really believe it. The younger boy nodded, crying again. "I love you too."


"Good. I'll say it as much as you need." John pulled away just enough to rest his head against Sherlock's forehead, wiping away the boy's tears. "I will love you forever," John whispered, kissing Sherlock's nose. "I love you hair," kissing the inky curls "Your eyebrows" kiss "Your eyes" kiss for each eyelid "Your amazingly ridiculous and sexy cheekbones" kiss for each cheek "Your nose" kiss "Your mind, your laugh, your smile and your lips" With that, he kissed Sherlock soundly, holding the boy in a warm, loving embrace.


Sherlock felt whole in John's arms; he felt safe and loved and healthy and he never wanted it to stop. The boy kissed John, simply, sweet, pure and nice. He pulled John's hand to his lips, breaking their contact to kiss his palm. 


John gasped as Sherlock's lips pressed against his skin, tracing the skin of his palm. "That's wonderful, Sherlock," he breathed. Sherlock pulled his lips back with a soft smile, running his thumb across John's hand. He traced the small creases up and down, gazing intently. John shivered, eyes transfixed by Sherlock's thumb, the touch just heavy enough to not tickle but light enough to feel like air; it was even more intimate than their previous embraces and infinitely more powerful.


Sherlock moved to kiss John's wrist, just barely grazing his lips against the skin; he then pulled back again, tracing his thumbs along John's palm once more. There was something so very interesting and beautiful about the natural creases formed all along the inside of the boy's hand, his palm, the inside of his knuckles, one very faint one high on his wrist, and the genius made sure to run his thumb across every one, following its path along the boy's skin.


John hadn't blinked in several minutes now, and he didn't plan on starting again soon; he didn't know where this was coming from or where Sherlock was coming up with this idea. His wrist was almost more sensitive than his palm, and his boyfriend's lips there sent a faint shiver through him, but it was nothing compared to the boy's thumb. Sherlock was tracing over every single crease in his hand, every single wrinkle, and John knew it was only a matter of time before he started kissing the beautiful boy again. "Sherlock," he breathed, awe and love clear in his voice, more of a prayer than anything.


"Hm?" he asked, seeming distracted as he slowly kissed the pads of John's fingers. He was in love with every little detail. John shivered again, Sherlock's breath warm on his fingertips. "God, what you do to're the most amazing ever."

"Thank you, John," the genius replied, turning the boy's hand over and kissing the back of it before finally releasing it. John caught Sherlock's hand gently, bringing it to his lips and kissing the back of it, returning the gesture. Sherlock smiled, watching John repeat what he had done. "I love you," he told him even though he knew it didn't really need to be said.


"I love you too. And if you don't mind, I'd really like to kiss you again. I could do that forever, you know," John added, blushing.




John kissed him softly, his hand almost instantly coming up to caress Sherlock's cheek. Then, he had an idea. Breaking the kiss, he whispered. "Let's play a game. First person to touch the other with his arms or hands loses."


Sherlock smirked. "Okay." he agreed, putting his arms behind his back. John copied Sherlock, lacing his fingers behind his own body and kissing the boy again. Sherlock chuckled against John's lips, resisting the urge to wrap his arms around the boy.


Everything was more intense now that touch was denied. John explored Sherlock's mouth with his tongue, moaning softly and kissing harder. He caught the boy's tongue and sucked on it, relishing the moans of his lover as he soon found himself working his kisses to Sherlock's neck. The dark haired boy moaned, his arms shaking at his side. "So unfair," he mumbled but not doing anything about it.


John kissed and licked at the tender skin, humming softly to himself. "You could always give up."




"Good," the blonde purred, redoubling his efforts and working his nose just under the collar of Sherlock's shirt, his own arms shaking with the effort of keeping them away. Sherlock leaned down, biting on the back of John's shoulder lightly.


John gasped, growling softly. "Gonna be like that, huh?" He almost released his hands, cursing when he realized. "Oh, you're good," he purred before kissing just underneath Sherlock's chin, teeth stroking the skin.


"You're not so bad either," he replied with a grin. John pressed closer, lips seeking Sherlock's ear, nipping and sucking the boy's earlobe and pressing him gently against the arm of the sofa. Sherlock moaned; his arms were twitching behind his back as John toyed with his ear. 


"Give up?" John grinned, running his tongue lightly along the shell of Sherlock's ear; he figured the boy was on the verge of snapping or catching him off guard.


"Never." Still stubborn as an ox, like always. He leaned in, biting John's skin gently just behind the ear. John whimpered, distracted from his attention to Sherlock's ear, trembling more and more as he struggled to not touch the boy, but he was so close to snapping at his own game. Sherlock ran his tongue along the teeth marks gently, and lifted his lips, breathing on John's skin but not actually making contact.


"Fucking tease," John whimpered, Sherlock's breath causing goose bumps.

"You love it," he murmured, grazing his lips ever so slightly across the side of John's neck before pulling back again. John attacked Sherlock's mouth with new ferocity, capturing his tongue and sucking hard. Sherlock moaned, caught off guard; his arms flinched behind him as he nearly forgot what he was doing. John grinned, redoubling his efforts, doing his best to overwhelm the boy. Come on, John thought, you have to have something up your sleeve.


Sherlock kissed back, fighting for control in an effort to gain the upper hand again. John smirked, loosening his grip on his arms slightly, victory just in sight. Sherlock noticed and gently bit down  on John's bottom lip, trying to make him falter. The blonde gasped, arms loosening as he lost himself to the boy's touch. Sherlock took the opportunity, pushing his tongue into John's mouth and running it along John's palate as he had before.


John was done. His hands flew up as he pulled Sherlock closer, tumbling them backward on the sofa, kissing as hard as he could.


"I win." Sherlock teased, wrapping his arms around John's neck.


John blinked. "Fuck," he groaned, grinning up at the boy. "You did. I surrender. What would you like as a prize?"


"Surprise me."


"I don't want to go too far."


"Neither do I."


John sat up, pushing Sherlock up gently. "Then I promise you this: as soon as you are better, truly better, I'll show you what making love is really supposed to be like, but only when you're better and ready. And I promise it will be the night I take you dancing. A night all about you. How does that sound?"


"I'd like that very much, John."


John smiled and kissed him one more time as the alarm went off. "That's our stop."


Sherlock nodded, standing. Ianto came out of the conference room, leaning over the computer. "What do we have this time, Ianto?"


"Looks like another weevil," he said, typing something in as he squinted at the screen. Jack glanced over Ianto's shoulder. "Yup. Nice and easy retrieval. Gwen, you and Sherlock should be able to handle that, yeah?"


Gwen nodded, glancing at the boy. Sherlock was glad to finally do something other than sit around and watch everybody else for once. Gwen took Sherlock by the shoulder. "Come on. It's time to face the monster from your childhood, don't you think?"


"Sounds good." He followed her from the hub. 

"John, stay here." It was Jack.


The boy whirled around. "Are you serious?!"


"He's a big boy, he'll be fine on his own." Ianto this time.


John glared at the coffee boy and flopped down on the sofa.




Gwen grabbed a few guns and a pair of cuffs on her way out, handing one of the weapons to Sherlock. "They said you were good in training. How about we put that to the test?"


Sherlock took it quickly, nodding. He wasn't sure how he felt about shooting a living thing, but it was basically just a target that moved...the boy had never been a very compassionate person.


The former police officer led Sherlock out into the mid-afternoon sun. "Should be a few blocks over."


Sherlock followed her, concealing the gun in his coat. "So what do we do with these things? Just shoot them?"


"Generally we capture them, but we already have several in the holding cells and frankly, I think I just need to shoot something. Besides, they already infest the sewers. Call it population control." Her face was grim.


"Okay." He frankly felt that shooting something wouldn't do him any harm at the moment either. Gwen led the boy a few streets over until they found the creature, huddled against the wall of an alley.


"That's it?"


Gwen nodded. "On three. Head is all bone, so aim for the chest."


Sherlock pulled the gun from his coat and cocked it back, preparing to take his shot. Gwen adjusted Sherlock's arms ever so slightly. "You're good to go."


Sherlock pulled the trigger, shooting the creature in the chest without hesitation. It snarled and keened, stumbling weakly to its feet before Gwen put another three rounds in it. The teenager let off one more shot as it fell to the ground. "Well, that was not nearly as scary as I remembered it."


"I think anything with that face and set of teeth is terrifying to a seven year old," Gwen replied, heading over to the creature to torch it.


"I suppose so." Sherlock muttered, nudging the thing with his foot as he had done when he was a child.


Gwen handed the boy the lighter. "Like to do the honors?" She'd already doused the body in gasoline.


"Absolutely." He took the lighter and knelt down, wincing slightly as he did so but ignored his soreness and flicked the lighter, sparking the gasoline as it quickly ignited before him. The two fled as the flames rose higher, retreating to a safe distance to watch it burn.


Sherlock watched the flames until it hurt his eyes to look anymore before turning around. "So you just leave it to burn away? Leaves no evidence."


"Exactly. Quick, efficient clean up when you're on your own."


"Very efficient," he agreed, turning to walk back to the Hub with the woman.


Gwen's mobile went off as they returned. "Jack wants to see you in his office. He says it's non-negotiable."


"Did he say why?"


"It's Jack, of course not."


"Right. Thanks."




John watched Sherlock's back until he and Gwen left the hub before standing and walking over to the two men. "Why can't I go with them? I should be by his side!"


Ianto looked over at him. "You're concerned for him, which is fine, but he has a job to do, and he needs to learn to do it without your help."


"I'd let him do it, I'd even watch his back and protect him. He needs me!"


"He's an independent person. Give him some space to breathe."


Jack sighed, motioning for them all to sit down. "Looks like we all need to talk."


Ianto sat down, nodding. They definitely had some things to sort out. John looked between the two men seated on either side of him. "What is there to discuss? I love him and I want to protect him. Is that so much to ask?"


"There's nothing wrong with that, but you can't be fussing over him all the time, he needs independence." He knew that when you love somebody you always want to be with them but it wasn't healthy to smother them, especially somebody who had been through so much.


Jack glanced at John, then at Ianto. "I think he needs to talk to you more than me. I'll be in my office."


John looked at his hands, fiddling with a loose thread on his jumper. "How do you manage it?" he asked Ianto quietly. "Knowing he could be hurt at any moment."


"It helps that he's immortal," Ianto chuckled. "But I trust he can take care of himself, and I give him his freedom because that's what I would expect of him as well. 


"But Sherlock isn't immoral. And he's been hurt. I was lucky to get him to open up to me and I finally saw a glimpse of the boy I fell for, but Ianto, I'm afraid I'm losing him. It's only been one day, and I'm afraid I'm losing him."


"John, I know what he's going through, and there is a fine line between helping and smothering. You're doing well, but don't be overprotective."


"How could you possibly know what he's going through?"


Ianto closed his eyes. "Because I've been through it. I know."


John gasped. "You-but-that's-how the hell did you manage to overcome it?"


"It wasn't easy. I didn't have people there to help me and it could have been very bad. And the people who were there...were there too much."


John leaned back against the sofa, shoulders shaking with the effort of not crying. "How can I help him, then? Help him get better? Help him truly heal? I just want him back."


"You be there when he needs you, and make sure you're patient. And when he needs to do things on his own, let him."


"How long will it take?"


"I don't know. It's going to take a while. Just be patient." 


"When-well, when he is-ah-better," John flushed bright red, knowing this was the only person he could really ask, "I-I want to show him what sex-what making love is like but I've never-ah-" he faltered.


Ianto chuckled. "Yeah. You'll have to wait a while for that."


"No, I know! It's just that I've never-done that before."


"Everybody starts somewhere," he said, patting John's knee before standing. "And I'm sure he's not going to ask anything of you that you aren't ready for."


"I...promise d to take him dancing and then to show him what it's really like, to make it a night all about him."


"That's sweet." Ianto said, smiling at John. "That's very good."


"Any tips?" John's face flushed darker.


Ianto shrugged. "Just do what feels right and take it slow. Don't over think it. Oh, and use plenty of lube."


John swallowed hard before hugging the Welshman. "Thank you, Ianto," he whispered.


"You're welcome, John."




Sherlock climbed the stairs and entered the office. "You called?"


"I did. Sit down, I have a few things to discuss with you."


He nodded, taking a seat in the chair near the desk.


"I wanted to start by apologizing for before. I had not known how you would take that information, and it clearly upset you."


"Yes. It did...but it's not like you were doing anything other than telling the truth."


Jack leaned across the desk, studying the boy intently. "Try not to hold it against me. I was a complete fool in my youth. Secondly, are you and John all right? I want to make sure everything is good between you two. I didn't pull you away from your home to have everything go wrong...I can also retcon you and him, make you forget yesterday's incident."


The boy clenched his jaw and closed his eyes. Forget about it, just go back home and forget everything, but then he would also forget Torchwood again, and he and John would have never gotten together. He wasn't sure he could do that.


"I need an answer Sherlock. Preferably with an explanation, but an answer is required."


"I....I..." He stammered for a moment and then steeled himself; his voice softened. "I can't do that."


"I'm offering you the choice to forget your abuse and go back to your life. It's only fair as it's my fault this all happened to you in the first place."


"This isn't your fault. And if we went back we would forget this place, and we would never have gotten together. I don't know if I can do that. I already forgot once. I don't want to do it again."


"All right then. Am I allowed to give John the same choice I just gave you?"


He shuddered but nodded anyway. He couldn't take John's choice away from him, but he knew if John chose to forget he would follow.


"Go talk to Ianto, see if he and Gwen have anything for you to do. And send John in."


"Okay." He left the office. "Jack wants to see you," he said to John before walking over to Ianto.


The Welshman brought Sherlock down to where Gwen was. "Got any work?"


"Could use a bit of help with the Weevil tracking system. Maybe Sherlock could take a crack at it."


"What do you need me to do?"


"The algorithm is off. Usually we can trace Weevils before they arrive instead of having them just show up out of the blue. That and we've lost track of several of the ones in the sewers."


"Oh. Okay," he said, seating himself in front of the computer and scrutinizing it for a moment before he started typing. Gwen stood, standing by Ianto as they watched the boy work.




John glanced after Sherlock before heading into the office, sitting in front of Jack's desk. "Sherlock said you wanted to see me?"


"I did." Jack looked at the boy, the budding soldier. "I'm here to offer you a choice, after asking a question of course. Are you and Sherlock all right? I want to make sure that everything is good between you two. I am offering the choice for you to forget this, to take the retcon and go home, forget Sherlock's abuse, go about your normal lives once more.


John stared at the man, thinking hard. "I'd forget everything? Everything from the past few days?"


Jack nodded. "No Torchwood, no lupicarnes, no danger, none of it-"


"But I'd forget about kissing Sherlock, admitting that I love him. I'd lose the best thing that's happened to me." John was scared, scared that something existed with the power to do that.


Jack nodded again. "You would also be safe. He would be safe."


"Could you promise that? Could you guarantee that he would be safe? That he wouldn't remember?"


Jack frowned. "Any mind as strong as Sherlock's is bound to remember eventually, especially with a strong enough trigger. He was able to remember yesterday when you all were in danger, the lost memories of his childhood flooding back."


"So that's a no, then. We'd forget about admitting out love and getting together, and eventually he'd remember being abused, and it would break him." John's gaze went cold. "I think I'll keep my memories, thanks. As long as I can protect him, I want to remember."


"Go then. Tell him. I think he'll be relieved."




"Because he is afraid you'd say yes."


John left the office."Sherlock?" he called.


Sherlock looked up nervously. "Yes?"


John strode forward, turning the boy from the computer and kissing him for a long moment. "We're staying."


He exhaled, relieved. "Good," he breathed, kissing John again for a moment before turning back to the computer. The blonde watched over his shoulder as the letters and numbers popped up on the screen, Sherlock's fingers dancing over the keyboard.




Ianto smiled at the boys, walking over to Jack where he leaned against the wall, watching. "So neither of them took it?"


Jack shook his head. "Sherlock was more afraid, John more stoic. I thought John was going to take it for a moment."


"Understandable, I thought they both might."


"Sherlock didn't even really seem to consider it, but John did. Until he'd ruled out Sherlock being safer, he seemed ready to go ahead."


"He's worried about him, a lot." He watched as Sherlock typed quickly, his eyes darting across the screen as he did calculations in his head.


"I know. That's why I offered. A chance for them to start over, but this will strengthen them, won't it? Please tell me they'll make it through, Ianto."


"They'll be okay. He's got somebody there for him, and hopefully after today John won't smother him."


Jack pulled Ianto into a hug, kissing the Welshman on the forehead. "You did good, Ianto."


"Thank you, sir." 




John decided that he loved watching Sherlock work. He stood just behind the boy, silent but watching intently, Ianto's words about giving him space echoing in his mind. Sherlock's eyes raced across the screen as he finished up, making sure he had done everything right. "That should fix it."


Gwen grinned. "Thanks."


"No problem, it was pretty simple," he said with a shrug, standing from the computer screen and walking over to John.


John squeezed Sherlock's hand gently before letting go. "How are you holding up?"


He sighed. "I'm fine." he said tiredly.


"Why don't you go take a nap? Get some rest. I'll leave you alone for a bit."


"It's okay, I can wait," he said, wanting to keep busy. "I need something to do."


"Why don't you come with me, Sherlock? I can think of some training I'd like to do with you," Jack called. Sherlock nodded, giving John a quick peck on the cheek before going to follow Jack.


The immortal led him back to his office and gestured to the chair in front of his desk. "Sit." He turned to his filing cabinet and started rifling through it. Sherlock sat in the chair, watching Jack. "What do you have for me?"


The man dropped a huge stack of files on the desk. "Records of every alien we know about."


Sherlock picked up the top file, flipping it over and then flicking through it. "So, what do you need me to do with them?"


"Isn't it obvious?" Jack smirked at the boy, even when Sherlock glared at him.


"You want me to read all of them?" It was a substantial pile, could keep him occupied for quite a while. "I can do that."


"Good. Come find me when you're done." Jack clapped Sherlock on the shoulder before leaving the office. "Ianto, want to take John and train him on the medical equipment we have?"


The Welshman nodded, gesturing for the boy to follow him as he walked down to the medical area. John followed, curiously examining the med bay as he walked down the stairs. Ianto pulled out one of the metal drawers; the inside was lined with various tools that they used for autopsy and experiments. "Here we are."


John's eyes widened slightly. "All right. I think I can do that."


"You probably haven't seen some of these before. Any questions?"


"Yeah, what are those?" He pointed at some long, silver tube-like things with corkscrews on the end.


"Those are for DNA samples. You press the button on the end and press it to the skin, and it extracts a sample of DNA."


John nodded. "So, familiarize and memorize?"




John turned to the drawer and pulled out the tray of tools, grabbing a notebook and pen from the desk. "I'll be awhile."


"Okay," Ianto replied, leaving the boy to his work.




Five hours later, both boys emerged from their respective jobs. John went straight to the sofa and collapsed, rubbing his face wearily. Sherlock found John there, laying down next to him. "Tired?" he asked amusedly.


John chuckled weakly. "Incredibly beat. You look about the same, actually." He rumpled the boy's hair.


"I am," he confirmed, sighing. He wrapped his arms around John's waist and closed his eyes.


Ianto walked out into the Hub. He smiled down at the boys curled up on the couch. "Long day?"


John cracked one eye, glaring up at the Welshman. "Yes, it was. Now go away. Naptime."


"Okay, I was going to take you home, but if you'd rather stay here..."


John sighed. "Come on, Sherlock. Time to go home."


Sherlock groaned, standing and walking with the coffee boy back to the SUV, John in tow.


"You can sleep when we get back. Promise." John piled into the car after his boyfriend, barely managing to stay awake as Ianto drove them home. The Welshman brought them back to the apartment, taking his clothes and quickly leaving. "See you in the morning."


As soon as he'd left, Sherlock collapsed on the bed, groaning with exhaustion.


"You need to change," John laughed, piling his clothes in the corner and tugging on pajama bottoms. His boyfriend groaned, standing and gathering his pajamas before going to the bathroom to change; he still didn't want anybody to see his body, the bruises covering his skin, especially on his hips.


John turned down the sheets on the bed, crawling under them and sighing contentedly, waiting for Sherlock to emerge. Several minutes later, he returned from the bathroom, crawling into bed next to John and curling himself up against the boy without saying a word. The blonde wrapped his arm around the boy's shoulder, letting Sherlock rest his head on John's chest. He kissed the dark curls before pulling the sheets up over them. "I love you."


"I love you too. Goodnight, John."


John didn't intend to sleep, but the next thing he knew, Sherlock's head was on his shoulder and the sunlight was coming in through the window. "Morning," he murmured sleepily before noticing Sherlock's face, how much paler he seemed. "You didn't sleep much. And don't lie to me and say you're fine," he added softly, running his fingers through the boy's hair.


"No, I didn't," he confirmed, moving his head into the touch.


"Anything I can help with? Will talking make a difference or do you need to be alone?"


"Just nightmares," Sherlock sighed, leaning over and kissing John on the cheek softly. "But thank you anyway."


John nodded, continuing to stroke Sherlock's head, holding the boy in silence until he heard his own stomach grumble. "Guess I should eat something, huh?"


Sherlock looked up, nodding. He stood and pulled John to his feet, glad to find that he was not as sore as he had been the day before. John made eggs and toast and juice for them before they went in to work.


The genius knew then that he just might make it through.

Chapter Text

The boys fell into an easy pattern, making it home most nights except for a few where they ended up running all over Cardiff, chasing different creatures; soon, they were celebrating three months at Torchwood, and John couldn't be happier. Sherlock was still having nightmares, but far less frequently. He seemed to be adjusting slowly, becoming less distant. He laughed and smiled for real now, and while he'd had had several breakdowns along the way, John was there to pick him back up again, and he seemed happy.


Jack insisted on a veritable feast that night: a large Chinese takeaway and plenty of soda and alcohol. It had been a long day, full of intense chases and a few close calls; John had been terrified for a few moments that he was going to lose Sherlock again, but the boy had pulled through. Now they were all around the conference table, tucking in and laughing. Sherlock smiled, and he actually ate that night, hungry from the excitement of the day. 

Ianto watched the two boys for a moment, glad to see they were doing well. Jack shot them a grin before turning to Ianto. "How've they been?" he murmured.


"Well. They seem fine."


Jack nodded, grinning past Ianto at Gwen as he passed her the dumplings. "That's good. I'm glad to hear it." Ianto nodded back, picking through his food. 


John was glad to see Sherlock eating but didn't say anything. He'd gotten very good at not hovering the past few months. The pale boy turned to the blonde. "So...are we still going to go dancing?"


John put his food down, looking over at Sherlock. "Yes, we are, if you're ready." He remembered his promise and intended to make good on it.


Sherlock put his fork down. "Whenever you are, he said casually. He was nervous, but he felt it may be time to take the leap.


John gave his lover a slow smile before turning to Jack. "We'd like to request the night off."


Jack glanced at Ianto and Gwen before looking back at the boys. "I think we can arrange that. We'll hold down the fort for the night."


Ianto nodded in agreement. "I'm sure we can manage."


Sherlock smiled back, holding John's hand under the table. John squeezed his hand gently before finishing his food. He rose and kissed Sherlock on the top of the head. "I'll get our coats. Meet you in the shop."


"Okay." Sherlock said, leaving the hub and waiting in the tourist shop patiently. John arrived a few moments later, putting Sherlock's coat on for him, his own already donned. "All ready?"


He let out a shaky breath and smiled. "Ready."


The club was a few blocks away, and John paid the admission for the both of them, secretly glad that Sherlock had chosen his purple shirt to wear that morning. They checked their coats and John led the boy out onto the dance floor. Sherlock followed John, a bit apprehensive of the crowd; he held onto John's hand tightly.


"I've got you," John whispered into Sherlock's ear as the song ended, Maroon 5's "Moves Like Jagger" starting. He grinned, familiar with the song and placed his hands on Sherlock's hips. "Follow my lead."


Sherlock nodded, moving with John. He draped his arms across the boy's shoulders, smiling at him. The shorter boy grinned before he started singing along, swaying his hips and moving them side to side a few steps in each direction. "Just shoot for the stars, if it feels right then aim for my heart..."


Sherlock swayed his hips along with John, laughing softly. He made sure to keep gazing into John's eyes to drown out everything around them.


"I've got the moves like Jagger, I've got the moves like Jagger, I've got the moooooooves like Jagger," John sang, twirling them and laughing. Sherlock joined in, kissing his boyfriend on the forehead. "Thank you."


"You're welcome, love," John whispered back as the music changed. "I love this one!" He grinned, letting go of Sherlock but staying close enough to bump hips with the boy. "Hey soul sister, I don't wanna miss a single thing you doooo, tonight!"


Sherlock giggled, moving in time to the music, watching John dance. The blonde threw back his head and laughed as he sang along, finally collapsing against Sherlock as the song ended, breathing hard. "You're getting it!"


Sherlock held John up. "I have an excellent teacher," he responded, grinning down at the boy.


The next song started and John took a few seconds to get his breath back before pulling Sherlock close to him, noses and mouths barely touching and dancing with him to The Wanted.

"The sun goes down, the stars come out, and all that counts is here and now. My universe will never be the same. I'm glad you came, I'm glad you came."


John pulled back, spinning Sherlock so that the boy's back was against his chest and placing his hand on Sherlock's hips as the music picked up. "Time for a new move," he whispered in Sherlock's ear as he began grinding gently against the boy. Sherlock was surprised, and the position was a little uncomfortable for him, but he didn't protest, trying to become comfortable, to let go of the last vestiges of his abuse. He absorbed himself in the music and in John.


"Trust me." John could feel how tense the boy was. "I've got you. I love you." He started singing again, a bit breathless but enthusiastic all the same. Sherlock nodded, exhaling relaxing a bit. "I love you too," he said, beginning to move in response. He listened to the lyrics of the song, smiling. John rewarded Sherlock relaxing by pressing soft kisses to the smooth fabric of his shirt, kissing the boy's shoulder blades, moving in time with the music but not pressing too hard against him; the night would be a little more difficult than he'd thought. Sherlock moved into the kisses, craning his neck backward to try and kiss John. The blonde grinned, teasing Sherlock by being just out of reach. He knew the slow song should be coming up right


It changed, John slowly turning Sherlock to face him once more. He wrapped his arms around the boy's thin waist, pulling him closer and looking up at him as the music began to swirl around them.


"When I am down and oh my soul's so weary..."


Sherlock smiled, wrapping his arms around John's neck and swaying slowly to the music; it was so sweet and loving, just stepping in time with John.


"Kiss me," John whispered, staring up at the boy with love in his eyes.


"You raise me up to more than I can be."


Sherlock leaned down, kissing John tenderly. He wanted to pour every bit of affection he had into it, just let John know he loved him and how much he loved him: for staying with him, for putting him back together again. John melted into it, actually letting go of Sherlock and bringing his hands up to cup the boy's face as he kissed him back. It was slow and tender and passionate and perfect, taking John's breath away.


"I am strong when I am on your shoulders, you raise me up to more than I can be."


Sherlock pulled away as the song trailed off. "I love you so much. You have no idea," he whispered quickly. "I can never thank you enough."


John stroked Sherlock's cheeks, glowing like the sun as he smiled up at the boy. "You're welcome, Sherlock. I love you more than anything."


"You put me back together again. You made me whole. You are everything."


John felt tears prick his eyes and he kissed Sherlock again. "I'm so glad I could. Thank you for letting me."


"You're welcome."


"Do you want to dance some more or get out of here?" John murmured against the boy's lips


"Let's go home."


John smiled and kissed his cheek, leading Sherlock off the dance floor and getting their coats. He shivered as they walked out of the club, the air very cold after the warm heat of bodies pressed together and dancing. Sherlock was glad to feel the cool night air on his face as they left the club. Everything sounded muffled from the loud music, and the air inside had been hot and close; he wrapped an arm around John as they walked. John leaned into him. "I liked that," he said, only then realizing that his ears were ringing slightly. He knew he had everything at home he'd need' between the internet and Ianto, he'd gotten more than enough information as to how to try and approach the rest of the night.


"I did too. Thank you for that." Sherlock led John back towards the apartment they called home.


"You're most welcome." John let them in and they went up to their flat, hanging the coats up in the closet. John was shutting the door as he felt Sherlock's hands on his hips. The boy kissed him softly. "So. We're going to do this?" He was nervous but ready.


"If you're ready, then yes," John said simply, gathering Sherlock in his arms and hugging him.


"I'm ready. I'm ready to do this."


John led him to their bedroom before kissing him again, slightly harder and deeper than he had at the club, fingers slowly unbuttoning Sherlock's shirt and stroking the pale skin as it was revealed. Sherlock shivered at the touch; nobody had seen him exposed in a long time. He stroked John's arms gently to let him know he was okay. John slid the shirt slowly off of the tall, lanky body, breaking the kiss to drink him in. "God, you're gorgeous," he moaned, peppering the pale chest with kisses as he rubbed slow circles on Sherlock's back. Sherlock watched John kiss his body, feeling butterflies rise up in his stomach. This was nothing like before. This was tender and slow and careful. It felt...wonderful.


"I love you, god I love you," John murmured, pulling back long enough to tug off his own jumper and t-shirt. 


"I love you too."


John slowly unbuckled and unbuttoned Sherlock's trousers, sliding them down his thin hips to let them pool on the floor and kicking off his own jeans. He had a moment when he tried to toe off his shoes and nearly fell over, cursing but managed to straighten up, blushing with embarrassment. Sherlock laughed, stepping out of his trousers; he put a foot down on the heel of the shoes so John could pull his feet out of them.


"Thanks," John mumbled, flushing brighter red as Sherlock helped him with his shoes but smiling back at the boy all the same. "Off with your own," he teased, "And then lie down please," his voice soft and gentle as he ran a hand through Sherlock's hair. Sherlock toed off his own shoes, laying down on his back and letting out a shaky breath.


John got a condom and a bottle of lube from his side table before climbing onto the bed, kneeling next to Sherlock. "I want you to pick a safe word," he said. "Non-negotiable. I want you to be able to stop me if it's going too far."




John smiled, Sherlock's least favorite composer. He straddled the boy and leaned down, pouring an intense, loving gaze into Sherlock's eyes before kissing him deeply, grinding their hips together gently. Sherlock moaned, kissing back. John went slow, letting them both grow fairly hard before moving forward, kissing his way down Sherlock's neck to his chest and sucking one nipple into his mouth. He let his hands come down to Sherlock's pants, slipping his fingers into the waistband and tugging gently to slide them off. Sherlock gasped at the stimulation, allowing John to remove his last bit of clothing; he felt exposed, extremely vulnerable.


"Are you all right?" John murmured as he kissed his way to Sherlock's naval.


"Y-yes," he whispered, watching John's head travel downwards, feeling a heat in his body he wasn't sure he'd felt before. John kissed Sherlock's length, mind going back to that day three months before when they'd gotten off together on the sofa in the Hub. He slicked up three fingers as he paid attention to Sherlock's cock, hesitating slightly before stroking the boy's hole. The lube was cold; he'd have to remember to heat it the next time


Sherlock jumped a bit. "S-sorry," he apologized. He took deep breaths to relax.


John nodded, breathing slowly to calm his pounding heart. He decided to distract the boy and swallowed his cock as he inserted the first finger, tongue trailing the length gently, even lazily as he started to stroke Sherlock. Sherlock groaned, barely noticing the finger that had entered his body. "Oh, God, John..."


The blonde smiled, Sherlock's moans going straight to his cock while he bobbed up and down slowly as he opened Sherlock, adding a second finger before he thought he'd have to. They'd done nothing but snog for three months, so he didn't know how long either of them would last, but he was determined to make this count for something. Sherlock gripped the bed sheets, feeling a bit of discomfort as John adjusted him, but pleasure soon won out.


John spent more time on the second finger, working a scissoring motion into his movements, moaning around Sherlock's cock to send extra vibrations through the boy. Sherlock grunted as John's fingers spread apart, squirming slightly; he tried his utmost to keep his hips from bucking upwards in response to the warmth around him. He could feel a knot growing in his stomach. No. Too soon. John slowed down and pulled off Sherlock, peppering his cock with kisses as he inserted his final finger. "Almost ready," he said, breathless.


Sherlock nodded, his hips lifting off the mattress slightly as the third finger made its way in. His breathing was heavy now, ragged. "Okay." He said, mostly to himself.


John kissed his way back up Sherlock's stomach as he pulled his fingers out, slicking himself up liberally. Noticing Sherlock's hips as the boy tried to raise them, he grabbed a pillow and slipped it under them; he positioned himself as he hovered over his lover, his tip brushing Sherlock's loosened entrance. The locked gazes. "Ready?"


Sherlock took a deep breath and nodded. "I'm ready."


John leaned down and kissed him deeply as he slowly entered the boy, deliberate and gentle. Sherlock gasped against John's mouth. It didn't hurt like he had expected it would: somewhat uncomfortable, but not painful. John sucked on Sherlock's tongue until he was all the way in, moaning at the tightness and the heat surrounding him. He released his lover's mouth and looked down at the boy, locking eyes once more as he started rocking back and forth, grinding their hips. Sherlock had to take a few minutes to adjust before the uneasiness subsided, then he moved with John, bringing their hips together.


When Sherlock started moving with him, John felt the grin spread across his face. God, they were finally doing it. He beamed down at the boy, going a little harder than before until he felt his cock brush against something that made Sherlock whimper.


"What was that?"


"Prostate, I think," John murmured, his head drooping slightly as he found it again and thrust against it, harder. Sherlock moaned even louder. "That'"


John grinned as the boy's body trembled with pleasure. He started going faster, breathing ragged as he felt himself build toward climax. "I'm close," he groaned.


"Me too," Sherlock told him, leaning up and capturing John's lips carefully. John kissed him hard, one hand reaching down to stroke Sherlock, flicking his thumb across the tip.


Sherlock couldn't hold on much longer, and when John stroked him, he lost it. He cried out, back arching upwards as he came, his walls clenching around John. "J-John!"


Sherlock clenching threw John over the edge. "Sherlock!" he cried, burying himself in the boy, trembling and shaking as he collapsed, gasping for breath. The pale boy held John close, smiling. "We did it," he whispered, kissing the boy's damp cheek. "I'm yours."


John took a few, deep, breaths, hugging Sherlock tight, a few tears trickling down his face. "We did. I'm yours as well, and I love you, Sherlock. I really, really love you!" He pulled out and disposed of the condom, breaking Sherlock's hold long enough to grab a towel from his side table and clean them up before snuggling close once more, shivering slightly as the sweat began to dry on their bodies.


Sherlock nodded, tears falling down his face as well. "I love you too." He pressed his forehead against John's, something he did often. John laughed through his tears, wiping Sherlock's away with his thumbs and cradling the boy's face in his hands. He leaned into Sherlock's forehead, looking into his lover's eyes. "I will always be here for you, I will always put you back together again, and I will always love you."


"Thank you," he whispered. "I know you will." John was his constant. He was the one thing he could always come back to.


John yawned, chuckling softly and pulling the covers up over them. "God I'm tired now. You wore me out," he grinned, winking up at the boy.


"Sleep, John," Sherlock said, kissing him on the forehead gently.


"You'll be all right?"


"I'll be fine, just might take a little while to get to sleep."


"Wake me if there's a nightmare," John murmured, letting Sherlock's heartbeat lull him to sleep.


"I will," he promised, watching the boy fall asleep on his chest, holding him close. It took a long time, but eventually Sherlock drifted off, not having a single nightmare for the first time in three months.

Chapter Text

John woke holding Sherlock, warm and content and sleepy. The boy was already awake and watching him. "Morning, love," he mumbled, smiling up at him.


"Morning," he greeted, kissing John's forehead again. "Time for work."


The blonde boy groaned, pulling the covers up. "Five more minutes," he said, pressing kisses to Sherlock's chest.


"Okay, five minutes," he agreed, running his hand through John's hair. "Then work. We'll get you some coffee."


John smiled, peppering Sherlock's chest with kisses before coming up from the covers and kissing the boy. "Mhmmmm, love you, gorgeous," he purred.


"Love you too, beautiful. You're so cute when you're tired."


"Really?" John raised an eyebrow at the boy and sleep-tousled his hair, giving him a very coy look.


"Absolutely." Sherlock responded, brushing John's cheek gently.


John smiled, nuzzling his lover's neck. "I could lay here with you all day."


"Me too. But unfortunately, that's not an option." Sherlock knew they had to get up, but he couldn't quite will himself to do it yet, especially when John kissed him again, sliding down his body to kiss his cock, hands stroking his sides; the genius moaned. "John..." he said warningly but not really trying to stop him.


The other boy grinned, taking Sherlock all the way in his mouth and sucking hard with the tip at the back of his throat, feeling the taller boy's body tremble under his touch


"Oh god!" he whimpered, his will to get out of bed faltering. John worked fast, pulling Sherlock over the edge in a matter of minutes. "You are amazing."


John swallowed him down, licking his lips before pulling himself back up. He grinned at Sherlock. "Yeah, I know. This really amazingly smart, talented, smoking hot guy tells me frequently. Do you know him?"


Sherlock chuckled. "You flatter me," he replied, gently kissing John's chest.


"Of course I do, but it's true." John held Sherlock's head to his chest, breathing deeply. After a moment, the pale boy traveled downwards, wishing to return the favor. John gasped as Sherlock's lips brushed down his chest and he rolled them over so that his back was against the sheets. Sherlock lightly kissed the tip of John's cock before slowly taking it in his mouth. John groaned, toes curling and hands grabbing at the sheets. "She-Sherlock," he whimpered, fighting the urge to thrust upwards.


Sherlock held John's hips to the mattress, running his tongue up the length of it and sucking softly on the tip. John whimpered and whined in the back of his throat, head pressed into the pillows, neck arched up. "Oh Jesus Christ, Sherlock..."


Sherlock chuckled, loving the noises John was making. He bobbed his head up and down quickly, paying close attention to his lover.


"Oh...ah...yes...fuck...SHERLOCK!" John yelled as the boy sucked hard and he came, Sherlock still pinning him to the bed until he melted into the sheets, breathing hard. Sherlock swallowed him before bringing himself up to John's lips. "Morning."


John kissed him deeply, wrapping his arms around the boy's neck. "Morning, you cheeky bugger," he agreed, smiling, tasting the both of them in the kiss.


Sherlock pulled away. "Time to get up now."


John groaned again but grinned, sliding out of the bed and going through his drawers looking for clean clothes. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard a knock on the door. Sherlock looked up, quickly pulling on a pair of trousers and going to answer the door. Jack and Ianto stood there. "You boys coming in today?" The captain grinned at Sherlock's shirtless body, winking at him.


He rolled his eyes. "Yes, we'll be in. Just a few minutes," he said, glancing over his shoulder. "Need to get dressed."


Ianto smirked, "Take your time."


John tugged on jeans and a jumper, bringing Sherlock his dark blue shirt just in time to catch Ianto's smirk. "Just give us a moment. Some of us need coffee in the mornings."


Jack raised an eyebrow. "You'd pass up Ianto's excellent brew for the instant in your cupboard?"


Sherlock pulled on the shirt, buttoning it quickly. He took John's hand. "Let's just go, we're late already."


John squeezed his hand. "Shoes, silly, then we can go."


He looked down at his feet. "Oh, right," he mumbled, turning and heading into the bedroom to put his shoes on. John grabbed his spare trainers from the closet, tying them up as Sherlock returned. Taking his boyfriend's hand, he looked back at the two men. "Lead on."


Jack smirked, leading the group from the building; Sherlock followed, holding John's hand tightly.  Ianto turned to the boys as they walked. "So how was your night off?"


"Perfect, thanks," John replied, shooting Sherlock a grin. "Slept like a baby, in fact."


Sherlock chuckled, nodding in agreement. "It was great," he confirmed. Ianto nodded, shooting Jack a smile; he knew how much the man had been worried about the boys. Jack grinned back, giving Ianto a very pointed look, the one that said that Ianto would be screaming for him at some point during the day before he led them out of the building and to the car.


"So, rift was quiet last night, could be that we won't see anything for a few days or-" the immortal was cut off as the car rift alarm went off. "-Or we won't be that lucky."


Sherlock watched the monitor, having studied all the files on the known alien species and the average amount of rift activity they generated. He did a bit of typing before looking up. "Got it."


John glanced over his shoulder as he gave directions to Ianto. "What are we dealing with?"


"Looks like...Animus," the boy replied. He hadn't dealt with these yet, but he knew about them. "They manipulate the air, steal breath." 


"Steal breath?" John and Jack said in unison. "How the hell do we protect against that?"


"Keep your distance? There wasn't much in the files; they were old ones."


"That means they were from Torchwood's early days," Jack said, grip tightening on the wheel as Sherlock instructed a sharp left, slamming on the breaks when he said stop. "Call Gwen," he told Ianto, getting out of the car.


The Welshman nodded, hopping out of the vehicle and dialing Gwen's mobile; she picked up on the first ring. "I know, and I'm already almost there." Ianto hung up, pocketing the phone and taking his weapons from Jack. 


John swallowed hard and followed Sherlock out, stomach churning. "I don't like this."


Sherlock squeezed John's hand reassuringly. "It'll be fine."


John nodded, accepting the weapons Jack handed out. Sherlock did the same, arming himself. He watched Gwen sprint over, nodding at her in greeting as she skidded to a stop, doubling over and panting, trying to catch her breath...only she wasn't getting anywhere. If anything, she was turning redder with every passing second.


John dashed to her side, getting her down on the ground and examining her. "I can't find a cause of-" he started before remembering the briefing. His eyes grew wide as he met Sherlock's gaze. The other boy knelt down beside her, looking all around them as he tried to find the creature. "She needs air!" he shouted.


Jack cast around, finally noticing a shimmer just above Gwen's head. "Sherlock! John! Get back! It's right in front of you!" The immortal ran forward, swiping his arm through the shimmer. Instantly, Gwen's face started to return to normal, but now Jack was starting to fade.


Sherlock pulled John back, helping Gwen off of the ground. Ianto dashed over to Jack; he wanted to help, but none of them knew what to do. Jack gasped and clutched at his throat, his lungs burning. He had air to spare but was going to die again very soon.


John thought, he thought hard, searching his mind for anything, everything. "Okay, made of air, mess with air, what's the opposite of air?" He turned to his boyfriend. "Sherlock, what's the opposite of air?"


"Earth." Sherlock told him calmly. Recognition dawned on his face. "Earth!"


"What do we go? How the hell do we get them into the earth?" John was watching Sherlock when he felt himself start to get a little lightheaded. Oh God, there was more than one!


Sherlock turned to John, eyes widening as he saw his lover's face turning red. "No!" The genius looked around for a moment, eyes darting all over the scene. Earth...Earth...think Earth...Got it! He picked up a rock from the ground, throwing it at the shimmer of light in front of John. It wasn't his best plan, but it was better than standing around watching his boyfriend suffocate.


The disruption was just enough for John to get a good gulp of air before the creature attacked again. "It's breathing my air," John managed to gasp as he saw Jack fall, the shimmer releasing the captain. Sherlock threw another hunk of earth at the creature, trying to lure it towards him. He did the same to the one attacking Jack. "They need to be surrounded by Earth," he yelled at the team.


John tossed Sherlock his gun. "Blow the street," he gasped, struggling away from the creature that was trying to attach itself to his mouth and nose once more. Sherlock nodded, shooting into the street, watching chunks of asphalt go flying. Gwen added a few more rounds, making a sizeable dent in the ground. John saw Sherlock's plan only moments before the boy started for the crater. "NO!"


Sherlock began to feel his breathe leave him as he continued to shoot into the street, enlarging the hole in the ground. Slowly he stepped towards it, finding it hard to move as he swiftly became dizzy.


Jack gasped as life poured back into him, taking less than a second to absorb the scene. Knocking Ianto away he ran towards the boy, throwing him from the crater, tossing rocks after him. "Come and get me!" the immortal yelled.


Sherlock fell to the asphalt, gasping air back into his lungs. One of the rocks hit his leg, leaving a gash but nothing serious. He scrambled away as he and Ianto watched despairingly as Jack sacrificed himself yet again. The Captain pulled a grenade from his belt. "To the car now" he yelled, apologizing to Ianto with his eyes as the creatures closed over his mouth. He dropped the bomb in the bottom of the hole, diving to the ground and covering the grenade with his body.


The team dashed for the car, Sherlock making sure John got in first. Ianto waited a moment, watching Jack and saying a silent farewell before getting in the car with the others and driving a little ways further to protect from the blast that was sure to follow. John was examining Sherlock's leg just to give him something to do when the car rocked with the force of the explosion, spinning slightly out of control before Ianto managed to straighten it out, the man clearly bolting back to the Hub. Ianto got them all back safe, getting out of the car without a word. Gwen squeezed the man's arm. "He'll be back in a few hours."


"I know," Ianto said, nodding appreciatively at her as he entered the tourist shop, hitting the button under the counter and let them in.


Sherlock slid himself out of the back seat, looking down at the gash in his leg. "Med bay," John said, scooping the boy into his arms and ignoring his protests.


"I can walk John, and I'm twice your size. This is ridiculous!"


"You're injured, and I'll be damned if I let you walk anymore on that gash until I've fixed it!"


"It's just a cut! This is embarrassing!" he argued, stubborn as always.


John set him down on the slab. "It's deeper than you think so stop whining, and let me sew you up." John grabbed his tools and slammed them down next to the boy. "You were going to sacrifice yourself, you twat," he hissed, cleaning the wound. "You're lucky Jack jumped in and not me."


"Somebody had to do it. It was going to kill you." 


"Then don't ever, ever think that taking your life in substitute for mine is an acceptable solution! I'd follow you in a heartbeat," John said, giving Sherlock a mild anesthetic before suturing the gash.


"I can't just sit there and watch you die. I might have survived it."


John set down his instruments and grabbed Sherlock's face. "The odds of you surviving that kind of an explosion intact were impossible, in pieces is more likely, but the most likely thing was that you would have DIED!" John let go of the boy and tied off the sutures.


"I'm sorry," he apologized, although he did not regret his actions.


John dumped his tools in the sink and hopped on the slab next to Sherlock, taking his hand. "I love you, Sherlock," he murmured, lacing their fingers.


"I love you too, John."


John pulled him close and kissed him hard, desperately. "You" kiss "stupid" kiss "idiotic" kiss "adorable" kiss "clever" kiss "moron" kiss.


Sherlock chuckled, responding to the kisses eagerly. "I'm....sorry," he said in between kisses.


John kissed the boy's face, his jaw, his neck, holding him close as he kissed his lips again, finally breaking the embrace to breathe; he'd forgotten to for at least twenty seconds. He rested their foreheads together, breathing in Sherlock. "Why are all these things attacking you?"


He sighed. "I don't know. But I won't let any of them get to you."


"I won't let them get to you either. I will protect you with everything that I have."


"Okay. We keep each other safe," Sherlock promised, squeezing John's hand. They stayed there, holding each other for a while, only moving when they heard Ianto and Gwen calling them for lunch. Sherlock hopped up, wincing slightly, and led John to the conference room to eat. He didn't say anything to Ianto, who looked like he clearly did not want to talk at the moment. John nodded at the adults, taking a sandwich and a soda and eating in silence. Sherlock picked at his food as usual, not even attempting to speak as they ate.




Jack groaned, head aching as he pulled himself out of the crater in the ground. He was covered in cuts and bruises, plenty of open, gaping wounds showing themselves before they began to heal. He stumbled toward the hub, sticking to the shadows when he realized that he wasn't clothed and had no interest in getting arrested at the moment.


The immortal strode into the tourist shop, stopping in front of the Welshman behind the counter. "You wouldn't happen to have a spare set of trousers, would you? Or not, I'm flexible"


Ianto smirked, pulling an extra set of Jack's clothes out from behind the counter. "Going to have to wait a bit for a new coat."


"Bet you could make me one."


"Of course." He watched Jack pull on his clothes. "So, it looks like your plan worked." 


"Some elemental...really don't want to do that again," Jack muttered, fixing his suspenders and looking over at Ianto. "How do I look?"


"Gorgeous. As usual."


Jack kissed the coffee boy, a tease for later. "How's the genius holding up? This is the second thing that has really had a significant interest in him...and John for that matter."


"They're fine. Sherlock got a bit of a gash on his leg, but it's all fixed up. They're both doing fine."


"Good. How about you? I know how much you hate when I do that."


"Well, you're back now. At least I didn't have to watch you blow up this time."


Jack nodded just as the alarm went off. "You're fucking kidding me," he groaned


Ianto looked up. "Bloody Torchwood."




Sherlock went over to the monitor quickly, typing away, John watching over his shoulder and Gwen at his side. He was able to decipher some of the data as Ianto and Jack came hurrying up. "Terralusum," he said without looking up. "Another old one. They can make copies of themselves, decoys." 


"Looks like we're digging through the history books," John groaned, the name ringing a bell. "Terra...terra...Sherlock, 'terra' means 'earth' right? And animus something to do with air?"


"Exactly. 'Animus' means 'breath'....we're dealing with the elements...'lusum' means deceive. Deceptive earth."


"Fuuuuuuuck," Jack swore. "I've heard about these. They make copies to confuse you and pull you into the earth, crushing or suffocating you, but only the real on can be killed...not, of course, that the records would have that on file. That'd be too simple."


"Always suffocating," Sherlock murmured to himself. "Well, we'd best get going, then, before something worse happens."


John helped gather weapons, rummaging through a few drawers before coming up with some odd items that he knew had to do with light and air, pocketing them, Sherlock got the location of the activity before helping carry the weapons to the car, and Ianto went with the group to the SUV which was a little worse for wear after the explosion but still functioning fine.


The creatures were fairly close, only a few blocks away from where the Animi had shown up. John was out of the car first, keeping to broad daylight with his back to the car, eyes darting everywhere. Sherlock followed, his eyes also scanning for movement, and for a while it was still. Ianto got out of the car, slamming the door shut behind him; this day had barely started and already they were on their second run.


John finally spotted movement in the alleyway. "Two o'clock," he hissed. "And at ten and one."


Sherlock watched as creatures seemed to rise up from the earth in three separate places at once. "Okay. How do we figure out which is the real one?"


"I dunno. Walk up and ask if they can be killed?"


"Don't be a smart-arse."


"You started it."


"Did not."


The creatures were pacing, keeping to the shadows, giving Jack an idea. He pulled out his high power flashlight and shone it at them. Two of them were unaffected but the third one snarled, his eyes glowing and he charged, tackling Gwen. Sherlock pulled his weapon, aiming it at the creature. "Will shooting it help?" Gwen was shrieking as the ground beneath her began to sink.


John grabbed one of the tools from his pocket and activated it, blasting the creature with a strong gust of air. It rounded on him, snarling, but was obviously scared as some of his scales fell off. Sherlock turned to John. "Do it again." If the scales came away, it could create a weak spot for them to hit it.


John nodded, the blast of air stronger this time as he figured out how the gadget worked. Half the scales came off before it pounced on him, driving him to the pavement. Sherlock turned, taking careful aim at the exposed part of the beast before shooting it; Ianto also took aim, firing a shot of his own.


John felt the beast writhe as it pressed down against him, crushing him into the ground, but the bullets seemed to be working; it was weakening. "Sher-Sherlock!" he gasped.


Sherlock shot it once more, twice, three times. He wanted the thing off of John right away. The blonde couldn't breathe; he was seeing spots until suddenly the pressure was gone from his chest, and Jack was riddling it with holes, Sherlock and Ianto emptying their clips until it stopped moving, dissolving into a pile of scales. Only once it was gone did Sherlock rush to John's side. "John! Stay with me, are you okay?" he asked frantically.


John coughed, wincing. "Yeah-I'm-okay," he gasped. "Bruised-rib-I-think."


Sherlock nodded, and helped John to his feet. Ianto put his gun away, and turned to Jack and Gwen. "What is going on today?"


Jack shook his head. "Beats me, but it would seem Sherlock and John are the targets. Nothing else has attacked them like this before...except the lupicarnes."


"This isn't good. Something is not right." This was all going to end very badly if they didn't put a stop to it. Jack and John both nodded in agreement, John's brow furrowing. "I'm-fine," he said, but his face said otherwise.


"No you aren't." Sherlock said. "It's okay." 


John nodded. "I need to get checked out," he gasped, his chest aching. Sherlock helped John into the SUV before climbing in and resting his boyfriend's head in his lap; he brushed his hand across John's forehead lovingly, his own brow furrowed in concern. Ianto led Jack and Gwen back to the car, driving once again.


John leaned into Sherlock, letting the boy hold him, Sherlock's hand on his head as they drove to the hospital. Thankfully it was just a bit of bruising, nothing was broken, but the doctors gave strict instructions that John was not to overexert himself for a week and gave him painkillers to help him breathe more easily.


When they finally got back to the hub, Sherlock opened the door. "Do you want me to carry you this time?" he asked, smirking slightly.


"If you won't drop me," John said, trying to tease. Sherlock nodded, leaning into the car and picking him up in his arms and carrying him back towards the hub carefully. John struggled not to laugh at the absurdity of it, eventually leaning into Sherlock and listening to the boy's heartbeat as Ianto let them into the Hub, and Sherlock carried him over to the sofa.


"Conference room. Everyone," Jack ordered.


"Oh," Sherlock said, changing direction and heading towards the conference room with John. He put the boy down in a chair, sitting next to him. Ianto took his usual seat at the table, watching the others file into the room.


Jack and Gwen strode in, the immortal remaining on his feet. "We've had two attacks in one day, both of an elemental nature, and both very interested in Sherlock and John."


Sherlock nodded. "We've had air and earth. That leaves fire and water if we're going to get them all."


"Yes, all true," Jack said, "but I remember in some of Tosh's research that there was a fifth element in popular lore: spirit."


John's eyes lit up. "Something of the five elements all trying to get at Sherlock? Why? And the only other creatures that have attacked Sherlock are the lupicarnes, and spirit can't have been them..." He trailed off as he met Sherlock's gaze, his own shock and horror reflected in his boyfriend's eyes.


Sherlock looked down at the table, closing his eyes. "That's it," he confirmed quietly.


Gwen looked at him blankly. "I'm sorry, I don't quite follow. What's it?"


Ianto turned to Gwen. "They were mean to break the spirit."


'Not the beasts themselves, they were just the instruments," John spat bitterly, taking Sherlock's hand in his, glad the boy couldn't see him wince as he moved. Gwen's eyes sparked with understanding, her breath leaving her in a rush.


Sherlock took a deep breath and looked up. "Well they failed," he said determinedly. "It didn't work."


They were all avoiding saying Captain Hart's name, but John nodded slowly. "They've all failed so far-"


"Which is why I'm worried that the next one will be even worse," Jack interrupted, standing behind his lover. Ianto nodded in agreement. "We need to be prepared."


"Sherlock, all the research you can dig up on elementals and on the elements themselves. Gwen, scope the area, look for patterns in where everything's been coming up. John, with Sherlock. Ianto, my office." Jack gave his orders and strode from the room.


Sherlock stood, helping John up as they left the conference room, the blonde leaning heavily on him as they went to the boy's desk. Sherlock helped John sit down at the desk before reaching into a drawer, pulling out a stack of files and setting them down on the desk. "So. Elementals."


"Air, fire, water, earth, spirit," John rattled off, taking the top file and glancing through it. "And somehow, they all seem to be after you."


"And you," Sherlock reminded him, "And that does not sit well with me." He perched on the corner of the desk, picking up a file and flicking through it.


John glanced at him, tenderness in his eyes. "Hmmmm," he murmured, setting his file down and looking at the next one. Sherlock sorted through the files quickly, putting any element-related ones in a pile on the desk, and tossing the rest into a heap on the floor that he would clean up later or get John to clean up for him.


"We can add to these files for Animi and Terralusa, now that we've fought them," John said, looking at the rather small pile on the desk.


Sherlock hummed in agreement. "Yes, we know how to kill them now."


John added the information to the thin files as Sherlock picked up the one about water elementals.


"Aqua lumina. Thrives in water, obviously. Can possess the human body. It spreads that way, inhabiting people. Like a virus."


John paled slightly. "Any indicators that you're possessed?"


"There will be a luminous area, usually somewhere on the abdomen which is where the creature's 'heart' so to speak would be...but that's about all we have on record."


"So, nothing on how to kill them, although it will probably have something to do with fire..." He trailed off. "There probably wouldn't be any way to survive a wound there," John said, shaking slightly.


"Most likely. We'll need to be careful if these come up." Sherlock placed the file down in the center of the desk.


John took Sherlock's hands in his, examining them, stroking them. "I don't want to lose you. Whatever these things are, they-they have it in for you and I don't want to see you hurt."


"I'll take care of myself. But don't you dare going and being your brave heroic self," he replied, kissing John on the forehead again.


"Then you make the same promise: no self sacrifices," John said, slowly scooting his chair close so he could hug the boy.


Sherlock nodded. "Nobody's playing the hero this time."


"Hold me, Sherlock, please," John whispered. "Tell me it's going to be all right."


Sherlock slid to the floor and pulled John into his arms, holding him close. "It's going to be alright. It's going to be okay."


John broke down, the stress and fear of the day settling like a weight on his shoulders as he cried into Sherlock's chest. Sherlock held him firmly, stroking the back of John's neck carefully. "Shhhhh..." he whispered. "It's okay."


John cried until he had nothing left, pulling back slowly and noticing Sherlock's shirt. "Sorry," he mumbled thickly, wiping his nose on his sleeve the way he used to as a boy.


Sherlock tipped John's chin up to look at him. "Don't be."


John reached up and stroked Sherlock's cheek, breathing in the boy's scent. "I love you," he whispered.


"I love you too." Sherlock murmured. He brushed John's neck, taking in every detail of his face. John's eyes closed and he tilted his face up slightly, Sherlock's fingertips on his neck very soothing. Sherlock kissed him very softly. "Everything's going to be fine," he promised.


"I trust you," John whispered, leaning against the boy.


"I'm glad," he said, wrapping his arms around John again. "I trust you as well."


John was silent for a long time, occasionally glancing at the file on the desk as if afraid it would bite him or burst into flames. Sherlock moved the file out of sight, tucking it away. "Don't worry about it," he told him, kissing John on top of the head.


"Can we go home?"


"Just wait until Jack comes back, then I'll take you home," the taller boy promised.


"Help me to the sofa. It'll be more comfortable. Please?"


Sherlock helped John up, supporting most of his weight as he brought him over to the small sofa and sat him down.  "Thanks," John groaned softly, curling up against Sherlock's chest.


Sherlock nodded, laying back with John in his arms. "My little soldier..." he murmured against the top of John's head. John listened to Sherlock's heartbeat, strong and powerful against his lover's ribs. Sherlock rested his chin on John's head, every now and again tilting it downwards to place a kiss in his sandy hair.




Ianto followed Jack quickly, entering his office. "You asked for me, sir?"


Jack shut and locked the door before practically dragging Ianto down into his bunker, pushing him against the wall. "I have some new equipment to try out. Fancy giving me a hand...or an arse?"


"Somebody's eager."


"Somebody has been making eyes at a certain Welshman all day and wants to shag him senseless."


"Well then, we should probably fix that." Ianto purred, leaning in and kissing Jack. Jack returned the kiss with gusto, shedding his clothes quickly and helping Ianto with his ridiculous suit. "Too...many...layers."


"You love the suit and you know it."


Jack growled and nipped at Ianto's neck as he pulled the man's shirt off, fingers dropping to his trousers, unable to move fast enough. Ianto groaned as Jack's teeth grazed the skin of his throat; he moved slightly to make it easier for Jack to remove his trousers. Both of them naked now, Jack kissed Ianto again as he stroked the man's cock, leading him to the bed and tossing him down. Ianto was panting as he landed on the bed, bouncing slightly. He smirked at Jack, amused by how impatient he was being. The immortal pounced, pinning him to the mattress and kissing him as he ground their hips together. "Something funny, coffee boy?"


Ianto moaned, arching his neck and exposing his throat to Jack. "Very funny."


"Mind sharing?" Jack purred, kissing and biting the exposed skin, leaving a mark as he reached for the lube.


"You're funny when you're so impatient," Ianto murmured. Jack smirked at Ianto as he slipped two fingers in him. "Gives me more time to fuck you into oblivion afterwards."


Ianto groaned. "I look forward to it."


Jack worked him open quickly, slicking himself up before slowly entering the younger man, pinning his hands to the bed and smothering his moans with a kiss. Ianto moaned softly into Jack's mouth, flexing his fingers under Jack's grasp. The older man laced their fingers and rocked against the Welshman. "Your accent gets thicker when I'm fucking you. Such a turn on."


Ianto squeezed Jack's hand. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he panted, making sure to lay the accent on thicker; he smirked up at Jack.


The man groaned loudly, planting wet, sloppy kisses on Ianto's face as he pounded harder, really giving it his lover.


"Oh god, Jack!"


Jack went harder, driving Ianto into the mattress, his bare stomach stroking his lover's cock with each thrust, both of them almost there. Ianto could feel himself coming closer. "Jack...I..." he panted, his mind hazy.


"That's it...let it out," Jack purred in Ianto's ear, sucking on the lobe gently.


Ianto came, calling out as he clenched down around Jack. He gasped for breath, staring into Jack's ancient eyes. The immortal thrust in a few more times and came hard with Ianto's name on his lips, never once looking away from the Welshman, seeing every emotion reflected in the younger man's gaze.


Ianto smiled at Jack, watching him finish. "You're perfect," he purred, leaning up and kissing Jack on the lips softly. His boss smiled, kissing him back before pulling out, grabbing a towel and leaning them both up. "You're not half bad yourself."


Ianto rested his head on Jack's now bare chest. "I love you."


"Love you too, sexy."


Jack held Ianto for a bit, just reveling in the after-sex high he felt, occasionally kissing his lover. "You know," he murmured, "we probably should go back upstairs," not really wanting to.


"We should," the younger man agreed, not moving. "But do we have to?" He wanted to just lay there forever.


"The boys probably want to go home."


"You're right." Ianto groaned, rolling out of bed. Jack chuckled softly. "Hurry back."


Ianto stood, pulling on his clothes slowly. "I will," he promised, straightening his tie and heading back up.




John heard Ianto's footsteps and stirred slightly. "Is't time t'go home?" he mumbled.


Sherlock hummed. "Mmmhmm...You can sleep, I'll carry you."


Ianto came downstairs, smiling at the sweet scene before him. "Ready to go?"


Sherlock nodded, picking John up and cradling him against his chest. John wrapped his arms around Sherlock's neck, letting the boy carry him to the car, feeling like a child for the second time that day, holding tight to Sherlock even on the ride back to the flat, the boy carrying him upstairs and Ianto getting the doors for them. The taller boy murmured a quick thanks to Ianto who left quickly, before he carried John into the bedroom and laid him down on their bed. John mumbled something incoherent as Sherlock set him down, brow creasing with pain.


Sherlock frowned. "Sorry," he murmured, going into the living room to fetch the pain killers the doctor had given them, bringing the medicine and a glass of water back in to John. "Hey, you can sleep in a second, just take these."


John let Sherlock help him sit up, but looked uneasily at the water, biting his lip as he looked at Sherlock.


"What's wrong?"




Sherlock frowned. "John, it's safe, I promise. You would know, trust me."


John nodded and took the pills, chasing them down with the glass of water. There was a tense moment when he watched his abdomen, but he relaxed when nothing began to glow.


"See? I always keep my promises," Sherlock said, laying down next to his boyfriend.


John curled up against the boy as Sherlock pulled the covers up over them. "Stay with me forever. Can you promise that?"


"I promise." The dark-haired boy kissed the back of John's head, holding him close. "I will never leave you no matter what happens to me."


"Good." John fell asleep quickly, comforted by Sherlock's arms. Sherlock stayed awake that night, listening to John's breathing as he thought about the problem at hand. Something was coming, something big.




Ianto hurried back to the Hub, coming back down to the bunker. Jack was still on the bunk. "They all right?"


Ianto nodded, "They're fine. They are so adorable."


"What did they do this time?" Jack grinned, tugging the sheets back for Ianto as the man undressed.


"Sherlock carried him the whole way, it was cute," the Welshman replied, sliding in next to Jack.


"Awww," Jack said, beaming. "That's completely adorable. I hope nothing happens to either of them, especially since whatever is behind all this is clearly after one if not both boys."


"I hope so too," Ianto said. Then sighed. "But it's Torchwood."


Jack's gaze darkened but dispelled it by kissing Ianto. "Sleep now, love."


"Only if you will." Ianto said.


"I'll try as always." Jack kissed his neck as Ianto fell asleep. He watched the coffee boy sleep, mulling over the problem, unaware that halfway across the city, Sherlock was doing the exact same thing.

Chapter Text

The next two weeks were quiet, almost disturbingly so; all Sherlock could think of was the calm before the storm, whatever the tempest would be. They trained a great deal, running over the files, practicing their shooting, and discussing ways to  harm elementals. John was all healed, and everybody seemed a bit on edge. They had seen nothing of either the aqua lumini or the fire elemental, and tension was running high


That evening they were in the conference room, Sherlock poring over his files for the fifteenth time that day. John walked in, half a sandwich in his hand. "Put the files down. I think you know them by heart now," he murmured, sitting on the table next to the boy. "You need to relax, Sherlock."


The younger boy glanced up for a moment before returning to the files. "I want to make sure I'm not missing something. There has to be something here I'm not seeing," he muttered, running a hand through his hair.


"Let it rest. You know some of your best deductions come when you aren't pouring over the pages."


Sherlock rubbed his face with his hand. "I know, but I'm going out of my head here. It's too quiet!"


"And it will wait another night. I think our luck will hold. Come home."


He sighed, closing the file and putting it in the pile, standing. "Alright."


John finished his sandwich, pulling the boy towards the door. "Come on. Ianto's about to leave."


The Welshman led the boys to the car, driving them back to the flat; Sherlock seemed preoccupied as they drove home, staring out the window. John let them into the flat when they arrived, shutting and locking the door before turning to Sherlock. "Can I help? Let me help, please."


Sherlock turned to him. "Something big is coming and everyday something doesn't happen makes me nervous."


John opened his arms, enveloping the boy and holding him close. "Be here. Be here now with me. Forget the rest. It can wait for a bit. Let me help you forget it all."


Sherlock tucked his head into John's neck. "Okay."


John held him for a few minutes before he began kissing his head and neck, everything he could reach with his lips. It wasn't enough for long, and soon he captured his lover's mouth with his own. Sherlock hummed softly as John kissed him, draping his arms across the boy's shoulders. The blonde boy deepened the kiss, pressing Sherlock back against one of the walls of the flat, moaning softly. The taller boy grunted quietly as his back hit the wall, parting his lips for John who slipped his tongue past Sherlock's teeth, claiming his mouth for a moment before tugging him toward their room.


As soon as he'd kicked the door to the bedroom shut, John worked his hands underneath Sherlock's shirt, stroking the skin of his chest as they kissed. Sherlock shivered slightly at the touch; he ran his hands up and down John's back in response, feeling the warmth of his body. John pulled off his jumper, pressing his heated body against Sherlock and sucking one nipple into his mouth, nipping the skin before teasing it with his tongue. Their trousers were off quickly, shoes left by the front door out of habit. John ground his hips against Sherlock's, making the boy moan, smiling as his boyfriend lit up with every touch.


John placed three fingers in Sherlock's mouth as he tugged off the boy's pants, taking Sherlock in his mouth. Sherlock moaned, sucking gently on John's fingers to slick them. John pulled his fingers out soon after, working Sherlock open slowly, lovingly, always taking the most time with this part. Sherlock found it much easier now, when John stretched him, used to the process and taking far more pleasure in it than he ever thought he would.


John soon pulled his fingers out, slicking up his cock and pushing into Sherlock, gathering his lover in his arms as he did so. Sherlock's back was lifted off the mattress slightly as John entered him, making him groan.  John kissed him again, slowly thrusting against him and pulling Sherlock into his lap, letting the boy ride him slowly. Sherlock whimpered, slowly bring his hips down on John's. He held onto John's shoulders tucking his head into the boy's neck. John growled, one hand on the back of Sherlock's neck, the other in the boy's hair, massaging his scalp. The taller boy rode his lover slowly, his throat vibrating against John's shoulder. He leaned his head back into John's hand.


"Yes...oh fuck yes, Sherlock..."


"John, oh god John!" he cried out, rocketing over the edge. 


John thrust upward once and buried himself in the boy, riding out both their climaxes and gasping for air as he saw stars. Sherlock felt warmth fill him, and he collapsed in John's arms; he was still panting as John finished. "Oh god I love you," he breathed


John kissed him deeply. "And I love you too."


Sherlock lay back on the bed, "That was fantastic."


John was glowing with pride. "Good," he murmured, quickly cleaning them up before snuggling against his lover, kissing his chest.


"G'night." Sherlock whispered, reaching over John to turn the lamp out.


"Goodnight, love," John murmured, falling asleep to his favorite sound: Sherlock's heartbeat. The younger boy followed soon after, cradling the best thing that had ever happened to him to his chest.




Gwen let herself in at home. "Rhys? You here?"


"Kitchen!" Rhys called. He was seated at the table, reading the paper.


Gwen smiled as she walked over to him. "Evening, darling," she said, kissing him. Rhys kissed back, resting his hands on her hips.


"Bed," Gwen murmured against his lips. He picked Gwen up easily and carried her to the bedroom, laying her down gently; it had been ages since they'd last done this, and she'd been at work so frequently in the past few weeks that they'd barely seen each other. Gwen lay there, staring coyly up at her beau until he joined her on the bed. The former policewoman kissed him on the nose before rolling over, straddling her husband and rocking gently. Rhys groaned at the friction, laying his hands on her waist and running them up her sides. Gwen rocked harder, making Rhys firm between her thighs. "I might just make you come like this," she purred.


Rhys groaned. "I bet you could."


Gwen leaned down and kissed him, grinding in circles now. Rhys kissed back, grinding up needily. Beaming, Gwen went harder, faster, determined to make her man come in his pants, pulling away to suck on his neck. Rhys tilted his head away, running a hand through her hair gently, making Gwen purred softly as she thrust her hips harder against him.


"Oh god, Gwen you're fantastic!" 


She grinned, feeling his pants grow warm and damp as she drove herself over the edge, shuddering and whimpering before she rolled off him and onto her back. He shuddered as they both released, moaning her name, then pulled her close, kissing her forehead; she wrapped her arms around his neck, quite pleased with herself. Rhys pressed his forehead against hers, rubbing their noses together.


"I love you."


"I love you too, sweetheart."




Ianto drove back to the hub, letting himself in; Jack was waiting for him in his bunk. The Welshman climbed down into the bunker, walking over to his lover and kissing him softly.


"I don't think things will be quiet for much longer," Jack murmured against Ianto's mouth.


"I think you're let's make the most of it."


Jack tugged him down, pulling the coffee boy on top of him and kissing him deeply. Ianto straddled, Jack's hips, moving one of his hands to play with Jack's hair. Jack purred at the touch, cupping Ianto's face in his hands and rocking back against the man, groaning softly. Ianto pulled away to catch his breath. "I love you," he panted, running his hands up Jack's arms to his wrists.


"I love you more than my life," Jack whispered back, carding his fingers through Ianto's hair. The younger man smiled, kissing Jack lovingly, hands roaming across his chest.


"I want your lips around my cock," Jack whispered into the kiss, hard and desperate for the man.


Ianto traveled downwards, pausing just below Jack's navel as he undid the suspenders and slowly lowered the man's trousers. Jack's back arched, his thighs trembling as Ianto stripped him, the coffee boy placing his hands on the immortal's bare hips and slowly taking him in his mouth, allowing his teeth to graze the shaft ever so softly. Jack gasped, hands fisting in the sheets.


Ianto worked his head up and down slowly, making sure to see how Jack responded to his attentions before changing things around. Jack was a puddle under Ianto's touch, the Welshman's hands keeping him firmly against the mattress. He gasped Ianto's name and came without warning, gasping and shuddering. Ianto swallowed him, kissing his way back up Jack's chest to his lips. "How was that?"


"Fucking amazing. Want me to do it to you?"


"If you want. I don't mind either way."


Jack smirked, pinning the younger man to the bed and tugging off his trousers, staring at his cock as he released it. "Mine," he whispered, lowering his mouth to taste. Ianto gasped, his head whipping back against the pillow. "Oh god, Jack."


Jack smiled around Ianto's member, stroking the tender flesh of his thighs as he deep throated his favorite Welshman; he sucked and licked and swallowed, finally pressing Ianto's hips to the bed as he sped up, pulling the man over. Ianto panted, crying Jack's name as he toppled over the edge. "Oh Jack!"


Jack swallowed him down, still smirking as he came up to kiss Ianto. "Better?"


"Much," he nodded, kissing Jack softly. The immortal held Ianto until he fell asleep, trying with no avail to follow, tracing one finger down the relaxed, sleeping face of the love of his life.

Chapter Text

John woke in the morning and knew immediately that something was wrong. Sherlock was chucking clothes at him and muttering rapidly into his mobile where it was wedged between his ear and his shoulder.


"Look, I don't know exactly what happened, but you boys need to get over here pronto." Jack was pacing in the Hub, looking worriedly at Ianto...his abdomen was glowing


The younger boy was already dressed, pacing the floor. "We're coming, be there as soon as possible," he said, hanging up and looking at John. "It's happening. We have to go now."


Ianto looked down at his stomach. There was a light emanating from just below his ribcage. "Jack..." He didn't know what was going to happen to him.


John tugged on his jeans, struggling with his jumper and shoes. As soon as he was put together he followed Sherlock out of the flat, both of them sprinting to the Hub.


Jack was pacing, fretting, glancing at Ianto. "What did you eat today? What did you drink? Did you have any contact with water at all?"


Gwen made it there first, red faced and gasping for breath. One look at Jack and Ianto and she knew. Sherlock was running as fast as he could, making sure John was keeping up. 


Ianto looked up. "I took a shower this morning." The coffee boy glanced at Gwen. "Morning," he said half-heartedly.


John nearly fell as he and the boy burst into the tourist shop, letting themselves in.


Jack's heart sank. "Here? At the Hub?"


Sherlock tore into the main chamber and skidded to a stop, his face falling when he saw Ianto.


Ianto nodded. "Yes, here," the words setting off a round of wet coughs; it felt like there was liquid in his lungs.


John went pale, standing by Gwen as Sherlock knelt by the man. Jack fought tears. "The water here's contaminated. Don't touch it. Any of it."


Suddenly a strange look passed over Ianto's face, his eyes glazing over as he opened his mouth to speak. It was his voice but with something slightly off about it. "We will never leave him. The master says there is only one way."


John froze, the distinctly alien timbre of his voice terrifying him. "Sherlock, it sounds like he's underwater..."


Jack wanted to touch Ianto but almost jumped as Sherlock slapped his hand away. "It's after you; the least I can do is get it out of Ianto," the immortal snarled.


"It will just spread, Jack. It chose its host," Sherlock replied sternly.


Ianto's turned to his lover. "Poor thing, he loves you, he wants you to save him. But you can't."


John's hands curled into fists. "Why do you want us so badly? Why can't you just leave us alone?"


Jack froze, face hardening as he glared at his lover, directing his gaze at the alien inside. "Leave him and come to me. It'd be easy. I won't fight or struggle." He reached his hand out to hold Ianto's again. Sherlock stood, putting his hands on John's shoulders to calm him.


Ianto stood, walking to Jack and staring into his eyes. "You're immortal. We can't have any fun with you; this is much more interesting. He can die, and oh he will. You will have to kill him, watch him die, and have his blood on your hands forever," the alien told him, a wicked grin spreading across Ianto's face.


John forced himself to meet Sherlock's gaze, letting the boy calm him. "Don't do anything stupid," he murmured.


"I won't." Sherlock promised.


Jack's eyes burned as Ianto (no, not Ianto, he thought) sauntered up to him, the gurgling voice with a stolen Welsh lilt taunting him. "I won't. You can't make me do it. I'll destroy you, make no mistake, you and your master. I thought you were after the boy. Why take the man?"


"Oh but they are so similar after all. Broken, used, worthless. He does not matter, so why not finish what was already started?"  


Gwen gasped, grabbing onto John as he lunged for the man. "TAKE IT BACK!" the blonde roared.


"He is not broken or worthless. And of course he matters. Everyone matters you sadistic prick!" Jack was red with fury now, and Sherlock was shaking, fists clenched at his sides. The thing was hitting him right where it knew it would hurt.


"He is. He is broken. There is so much pain, misery. It feeds us, makes us strong...and there's only one thing you can do to stop it. He is screaming...why can't you help him, Jack? Why can't you stop his pain?"


John was fighting Gwen, desperate to hit the creature; Jack was trembling from the effort of holding back, tears starting to leak from his eyes. "Let me talk to him. Please, just let me speak to him."


"You can have back your little pet in a moment. First-" Ianto turned to Sherlock, his eyes burning cold for the briefest of moments, "-Moriarty sends his love." Then Ianto fell to the floor, coughing terribly, back in control of his head and body once more. "Jack," he gasped, sucking in air.


The captain was at his side in an instant, crying. "I'm here, I'm here love."


Ianto turned to him, his eyes swimming. "I'm so sorry. You have to do it."


Jack shook his head. "Don't make me do this, Ianto. Please...I don't want to live anymore if you aren't here."


"Jack, if you don't do this it's going to spread. Please. I feel like I'm drowning," he whispered, tears falling down his face.



A sob caught in Jack's throat. "How? How do I do it?" He hated himself for even thinking the words, let alone saying them.


"I don't know. Shoot me, do something," the Welshman begged. "I love you."


Jack broke, slowly pulling the gun from his holster and aiming it at the glowing place on Ianto's abdomen. He couldn't even kiss the man goodbye. Ianto was sobbing. He wanted Jack to hold him, to kiss him, but he couldn't. "Goodbye," he choked out. "Goodbye. I love you."


Jack pulled the trigger, an anguished cry ripped from his chest was water and blood poured out of Ianto. The younger man fell back, watching the blood leave his body, staining the suit, the tie. "Jack..." he whispered as his heart slowed down...his last moments on earth.


Jack knelt next to him, not caring if he got infected anymore as he gathered his lover in his arms. "I've got you. It'll stop hurting soon, I promise."


Ianto nodded. "I l-love you," he repeated. "P-please don't...f-f-forget me."


"Not even if the world ends. I love you too." Jack saw the light leave the man's eyes, disbelief and denial shining in his own. "No. No, please, please come back," he sobbed, pressing a kiss to Ianto's cooling lips, crying even harder as he rocked the corpse back and forth.


At that moment, Ianto Jones was gone from the world.


Sherlock turned to John, not able to watch while the blonde checked his watch, numb. "Time of death, seven twenty-seven." he said, voice shaking slightly. Jack didn't hear him, the roar in his ears far too strong as he cradled the dead man.


Sherlock felt awful, like somehow this was his fault; it was his fault for agreeing to join Torchwood, for dragging John with him, his fault Ianto was now dead. These things were targeting him and now they had lost a very dear member of the group. John opened his arms and embraced Sherlock, crushing him close, relieved that the boy was alive and hating himself for it at the same time. "This was not your fault," he whispered, finally breaking down and sobbing. "That thing was trying to get into your head. Don't let it. Don't let them break your spirit. Not again. I couldn't...I couldn't bear it if that happened."


"Okay," the younger boy agreed, resting his chin on John's shoulder and holding him back; John was upset, and he needed to be strong for him. The blonde breathed in Sherlock, struggling to calm down. Ianto's body would get locked in the vault with the others, they'd need someone to man the shop now, maybe Gwen, god they'd never get a decent cup of coffee again...he almost chuckled at that. He needed out, a distraction, anything to get away from the hub and forget..."We have to take care of this, Sherlock," he murmured, "and then can we go dancing? I need a distraction. Please...."


"Sure." The pale boy released John and walked over to Jack cautiously. "Jack..."


The immortal didn't hear him until the boy put his hand on his shoulder. He looked up at Sherlock, his face soaked in tears, nose running, eyes dead. "I-he's-I can't-"


"I know. I'm sorry. This isn't your fault, though. This is nobody's fault." Except my own.


"His blood...My blood...Sherlock, I killed him."


"Jack, he was drowning. It was going to kill him slowly and infect other people. This is not your fault!"


Sherlock's words felt like a slap to the face, and Jack slowly stood, holding the Welshman's body in his arms to carry him to the morgue. Sherlock followed, watching from a distance and giving Jack room to say his goodbyes.


The ex-Time Agent packed the body himself, sliding it into the bag and laying it in the drawer. "Ianto," he whispered, voice breaking, "you were-you were the best thing that ever happened to this old man. I owe you so much. You brought out the best in me, right from day one." He choked back a sob, a few tears landing on Ianto's face; he closed the man's eyes. "I loved you the entire time I knew you, even though it took me far too long to tell you. You will never be just a blip in my timeline. You were my world and always will be." He kissed the man's lips once more, still crying as he sealed the bag and closed the drawer.


Sherlock went back to the others, staring at the pool of blood and water on the floor. The last physical reminder of what had just happened. John doused the puddle with lighter fluid and lit it. "Fire is the opposite of water," he said dully, Gwen's hand on his shoulder. "Precautions," he muttered. The blaze glowed violet, giving off an acrid smell for a few moments until it dissipated. A dull stain on the floor was all that was left, the only monument to their fallen comrade.


Sherlock sat down on the sofa, letting out a shaky breath. What was even going on? Fifteen minutes was all it took, and now somebody was dead and gone. John sat next to him after a few moments. "So...Moriarty. Do you think he's the one behind all this?"


"I think so. You ever heard of him?"




"Me neither."

Chapter Text

It was hours later before any of them were able to move or speak, John and Sherlock holding each other on the sofa, Jack wandering aimlessly through the Hub, sobbing occasionally, Gwen sitting at her desk, not watching the monitors and staring off into space. They couldn't think, couldn't eat, and every time Jack closed his eyes, he saw Ianto's anguished face begging for death and felt his own hands pull the trigger; is skin was still pink from the man's blood. Sherlock held John tightly, staring aimlessly at nothing most of the time. He sometimes watched Jack pace the Hub, and there was really nothing anybody could do to console him. John refused to let go of Sherlock's hand the entire day, terrified that he'd vanish or worse, until he couldn't stand sitting there anymore. "We need to get out of here. Sherlock. We need to leave the Hub for a bit."


"I know." He pulled himself off the couch, bringing John up with him. He felt kind of bad, leaving like this, but it wasn't good to just sit around and be miserable. John held his hand tightly as they left, wandering slowly back to the club they'd gone to only two weeks before. God, how the time had flown.




Gwen went into Jack's office. "I'm going to get a drink, want to come?" She figured he might want to be left alone, but she would feel bad not offering. The immortal looked up at Gwen with hollow eyes, nodding slowly and fighting back another round of sobs.


"Come on0" she murmured, offering a half-hearted smile; she couldn't stand seeing him in so much pain. Jack rose and grabbed his coat, the new one Ianto had made, barely suppressing another sob as he followed her from the Hub.


Gwen led him out to the SUV, getting in the driver's seat, and she gave her boss time to get settled in before driving for the nearest pub. Jack followed her inside, letting her order him a pint; he went through three before slowing down on his fourth, the buzz settling in. "I feel dead, Gwen."


She frowned. "I'm sorry, Jack," she said, not sure how to reply.


He shook his head. "He's gone...and he took my heart with him."


"Jack, Ianto wouldn't want you like this."


"Like what? I'm supposed to just forget him and move on? I promised I wouldn't."


"That's not what I'm saying. I just hate to see you so upset."


"I can't just spring back from this."


"I know...I'm sorry," Gwen apologized, staring into her glass.


Jack sighed, squeezing her arm. "Don't apologize. We-I couldn't go anything."


The former officer nodded. "I know. Nobody could have stopped it."




It felt so weird to see a place that was functioning normally, everybody happy and enjoying themselces; it seemed almost wrong, but nonetheless, Sherlock led John inside and onto the dance floor. The blonde boy smiled very slightly as Sherlock led the way, his boyfriend so much happier and confident than he had been before. He pulled him close, leaning against him as they started to dance, the music slow as the late night stragglers left.


Sherlock held John, swaying with him in time to the music. He rested his chin on the boy's head, smiling slightly into his hair. John hummed along to the music that surrounded them, breathing in the boy and reminding himself that he was alive and in his lover's arms. It comforted them both, the warmth their bodies, John's hair on Sherlock's cheek and the younger boy's heartbeat in John's ear.


"I love you, Sherlock," John whispered, nuzzling his chest


"I love you too, John," Sherlock murmured back, resting his hand on the back of John's head.


John finally pulled him down for a kiss, hungry yet sad, possessive as well, as if to say you'll always be mine. Sherlock kissed back, snaking his arms around John's waist. He needed an escape from the day, and right now, that was John. He didn't know how long they swayed there, kissing, holding each other, their love growing stronger by the second. Sherlock pulled back for air after a while, resting his forehead against John's, breathing him in. The blonde chuckled softly as air came rushing back into his body, suddenly thirsty. "I need a drink. Can I get you anything?"


"I'll have whatever you do."


"Be right back." John kissed him hard and made his way to the bar, soon lost from Sherlock's sight. The taller boy watched John until he couldn't see him anymore, then stood listening to the music, swaying slightly as he waited for his love to return. John ordered their drinks, waiting impatiently as he looked back. he couldn't see Sherlock...and then he couldn't see anything else.




Sherlock looked around the club, becoming a bit worried. His mobile vibrated in his pocket, and he answered it, moving near the restrooms so he could hear better. "Hello?"


"Tut, tut, Sherlock. After everything you've been through you actually thought it was a good idea to let him out of your sight?" The voice was silky with the hint of an Irish lilt to it; it was clearly smirking. Sherlock's heart stopped, and he fought to keep his voice even as he spoke. "May I ask who is calling?" He was already walking towards the bar, hoping that John was there, that this was a joke.


"You think I'd leave him where you last saw him? Honestly, I'm starting to wonder what all the fuss was about with you."


"Where is he? This isn't a game."


"Oh, but my dear boy, it is, the most delicious of games. I'm sure your deductions have already worked out my identity. Now you're just stalling."


Sherlock left the club; he knew John wouldn't be there. "You've already gotten one of our friends killed, I'm sorry to say my patience is short."


"The Welsh brat? Merely a tool to show you what I'm capable of."


"People have died!" he shouted into the phone, even though he knew this man did not care.


"That's what people DO!" The Irish voice yelled back.


"Give him back to me!" Sherlock stalked down the alley way, leaning against the wall while he worked to breathe evenly.


"Awww, poor baby sulking now? Lost your favorite toy? Your plaything?"


"He is not a toy," the genius seethed. "What do I need to do?"


"Ah, the broken child finally begins to understand." The voice was almost gleeful. "Say my name first. I know you know it."




"And? My other name? Surely you've worked that one out by now."


"Ignis perfidus." The only fire elemental they had a record on. "Treacherous Fire."


"Very good!" A small noise could be heard in the background before Jim hissed, silencing it. "Now, you know what I'm capable of and that I have your precious little pet. SO, why don't you take a little trip up to the roof of the building next to the one you were held in, hmmmm? I'm sure you remember the one...Captain Hart had his merry way with your untouched arse."


Sherlock swallowed hard. "And when I get there?"


"Let's play that by ear, shall we? Oh, and come alone. Wouldn't want Johnny boy to fall." The line went dead.


Sherlock hung up the phone and sprinted towards the building. John was in danger, John could be hurt, and the knowledge that he was still alive was the only thing driving him forward when his lungs began to burn and his legs threatened to give out. He arrived at the place a few minutes later, taking a moment to look at the ruins of the old building and catch his breath before heading next door.




John was shaking but didn't dare move, the red ring in the ground around his feet keeping him standing very, very still. His eyes grew sad as he saw Sherlock burst through the door on the roof, chest heaving, hair mussed, and eyes wild. "John!" he yelled, running towards the boy.


"NO!" A wall of flame flared up between them and it took everything John had not to move.


Sherlock stumbled backwards. "Don't move, I'm going to get you, okay, I promise!"


"How...touching." A smaller, nondescript man with short, dark hair and a trace of stubble came up behind the genius. He was dressed in a dark suit and had cold, steely brown eyes. "You really don't want to go any closer or he'll burn."


Sherlock turned to the man. "You! You give him back to me right now!" he commanded, stepping towards him.


Jim raised his hand, the palm glowing blue. "I really wouldn't if I were you."


Sherlock stopped in his tracks. "What do you want?" he asked, his voice almost breaking. Almost.


"Isn't it obvious? I want you, you stupid child."


Sherlock took a step back. "Sorry, off the market," he replied, smirking. John couldn't help but smile at that; the boy's back was to him, but he could imagine the smirk at the corner of his lips.


Jim shook his head. "Please, don't be so boring. If I'd wanted that, I wouldn't have bothered with your pet; I would've taken you myself. No, I mean I want your body, your mind if you want get into the specifics."


"Again, not available. I hope you didn't think I would just hand myself over."


"And what if your precious Johnny dies if you don't? What then?"


Sherlock glanced at John. He had promised he wouldn't play the hero...but he had also promised to protect his boyfriend, and now that it came down to it, it was very hard for him to make any other choice but saving the one he loved.


"Ahhh, that has you thinking, doesn't it? See, you wouldn't even have to be making this choice if you'd just left well enough alone as a child but just had to run away with the Torchwood team."


John could see the wheels turning in Sherlock's head, and if it hadn't been for Jim's threat about what would happen to Sherlock if he spoke, he would've warned the boy.


"And what would have happened if I hadn't stayed with Torchwood then?"


"This would have all been over much sooner, especially since it was your big mouth that got your father murdered." Jim relished the look on Sherlock's face, the shock the flickered across it before he composed himself once more. "Didn't Jack tell you? He and his team tortured the man and then dissolved him with acid. My gateway to you, gone in an instant, and you were whisked off the next morning."


Sherlock felt slightly sick; he had never known what happened to his father until today. "That's-that's not true. That's not what happened."


"Oh, but it is. Those men came and bundled you away to the safety of a London street where it took me nine entire years to find you."


"Well if that was a mistake, it was the best one I ever made."


Jim shook his head. "So stubborn, so cheeky, even when your lover is in danger." He raised his hand until it glowed with the unearthly blue light again.


John gasped and whimpered as the circle on the ground beneath his feet began to glow, heating up fast. Sherlock turned and looked at the blonde, and then back at Jim. "No, please. Stop! Don't hurt him."


Jim clenched his fist, the light dying; the circle also ceased to glow. "You are my true body, Sherlock Holmes. The only mind in the world that can match mine, plenty of space in that large skull to hang around in, and since we are the same, the only person who could hold me."


Sherlock looked at the ground, eyes darting right and left as he tried to think of something. "I'll do it if, and only if, you let me talk to him first."


Jim grinned, feral and predatory. "Five minutes."


John gasped as the circle around his feet vanished, terrified it was another trick. Sherlock ran to him, crushing him in an embrace. "I'm so sorry," he whispered. "I shouldn't have let you go alone, I should have stayed with you."


John clutched at him, relief flooding his body. "It's not your fault. We'll figure something out."


"Five minutes, John. If we don't figure something out, I want you to promise you will take care of it."


John's grip tightened. "I will not kill you."


"Then somebody else has to if we can't figure it out, and then this can be over and nobody else is going to die on my account."


John felt tears start to burn his eyes, and he pulled back just enough to kiss Sherlock as hard as he could. "Water," he whispered into the boy's mouth.


Sherlock hummed in agreement. "But how much?"


"I-I don't know." John kissed Sherlock's cheek and hugged him tight again. "Could you fight him off if you had to? Shove him back out of your head?"


"I will try, I promise," he said, kissing John's forehead. "I will try, but if I do, you have to get out of here. He won't be happy about it."


John looked up, the sky completely clear; he knew Jack and Gwen wouldn't be of any help even if they could make it in time. "Sherlock, I'm not going to let you do this."


"'s too late. I love you." He kissed his lover gently. "See you on the other side."


"No, no Sherlock!" But the boy was blocking John from Jim whose grin made John furious.


"Have you decided then?" His hand was glowing a dangerous blue.


Sherlock gave John one last longing look before turning to Jim.


"I'll do it."


John's grip tightened on the boy's arm until he felt his hands begin to burn. He cried out, stumbling back.


Jim flew forward with inhuman speed, pressing his bright blue palm to skin just above Sherlock's heart. The boy screamed in pain, sinking to his knees as the touch burned through him. His body felt like it was on fire, burning endlessly. Through his tears of pain, John looked up at Jim, the smile on the man's face truly frightening. And then Sherlock sank to the ground and began screaming, and John tried to move forward, to help him, but Jim blasted him back. "Stay," he hissed.


Sherlock tried to fight it, pushing through the burning. He could see Jim's face in his mind, grinning at him. "Get out of my head!" he shouted. The creature cackled as he poured himself into the boy, finally inside Sherlock's head, and the cold, empty shell of Richard Brook, a young Irish lad, collapsed to the rooftop.


The young, pale boy fought it, pushing the thing trying to consume his mind away. His head felt like it was going to split in half as Jim forced images to the forefront: Being hit by his father...Captain John Hart forcing himself on him...John being hurt...John almost dying...John. He started to focus on the boy, knowing he had plenty of memories to draw on, good ones to help him push through.


The boy was fighting, so strong, so angry. Jim smiled, bombarding him with nightmares, the darkest days of his life, every terrible thing that had ever happened to him...

John watched Sherlock's normally blue eyes shift between piercing blue and blood red, the opposite nature sparking something in him. He stood, stumbling to his lover, his boyfriend, his Sherlock who was on the floor, head in his hands. "John..." he whimpered. His eyes flashed red and he screamed; he felt he was beginning to lose this battle, and he needed something to pull him through, something stronger to hold onto because Jim was starting to burn through his memories. and fire! Without thinking, John took Sherlock's head in his hands and kissed the boy, hard, pulling out all the stops, applying every trick he'd ever learned, trying to drag the boy back to the front of his mind, turn those eyes ocean blue to stay. Sherlock kissed back, his eyes flickering quickly for a few moments. Suddenly they turned a deep blue, John flooding his mind like a ray of pure sunlight, bright enough to go towards, warm and loving enough to drive the diseased alien from his head. His face was contorted in paiin, but it was Sherlock,  not Jim who embraced John and gave him everything he could. John didn't stop, but he kept his eyes open now, watching the blue solidify, turn nearly opaque. "I love you."


"I love you too." He let John be his only focus, casting Jim out of his thoughts. 


Jim railed against the shutting doors in Sherlock's mind, casting out stronger and stronger fire to burn him into submission, but he could hear the ocean, and soon he saw those two, deep blue eyes meeting his red ones head on, and he lost control, flung out of the boy through the partially black handprint in his chest, scattering along the rooftop as clouds rolled in and dumped frigid rain down on Cardiff. Sherlock collapsed in John's arms, taking deep, slow, shaky breaths. "You did it," he gasped, his eyes fading to their normally icy color as the rain fell, cooling him as he held onto John, his anchor in the storm.




Gwen's phone went off as she lifted her second drink to her lips: the rift alarm. She nudged Jack. "Look at the location." It was right next to where Sherlock had been taken that first night.


Jack's eyes widened, all thoughts of Ianto somehow pushed aside for the moment. "Let's go," he said, paying for the drinks and running to the car.


Gwen followed Jack to the SUV, hopping in the driver's seat and speeding off towards the abandoned building. It had suddenly started raining, which she wasn't sure was a good sign. Jack bounced impatiently in the passenger seat, suddenly terrified of what they might find. If they were too late...They made it to the building after what seemed like ages, jumping out of the car and running inside. Jack tore up the stairs after Gwen, the pair finally bursting onto the roof.




John stared at Sherlock for a full thirty seconds before kissing him like a drowning man needing air, hugging him close, tears mixed with the rain. "You're're alive...oh my god, Sherlock!"


The boy kissed back, clutching at John's jumper, needing the contact, the comfort. "I know...I promised you...I always keep my promises."


"I know...I was scared...I thought I was going to lose you." John never wanted to let go, never wanted to move; he didn't care that they were getting drenched on the rooftop and might catch cold.


Sherlock sat in John's arms, the head-splitting pain slowly ebbing away as the rain cooled his skin; John ran his fingers through Sherlock's hair, letting the rain soak them through and wash it clean. "You all right?"


"Just tired now...doesn't hurt so much anymore," Sherlock told him, looking up at Jack and Gwen as they burst onto the rooftop, giving them a faint smile. "Late to the party."


Gwen walked over. "What happened?"


"The last elemental," John said, glancing at the adults, still holding tight to his boyfriend even though he was starting to shake violently. Sherlock was weak enough as it was, trembling in John's arms, and both boys were beginning to feel the cold.


Gwen went over and knelt next to them in the puddle forming. "Are you hurt?"


"We were, but n-not anymore." John's teeth were chattering; the rain was like ice. "W-we n-n-n-eed t-to g-go ho-home."


Jack nodded and picked up Sherlock, carrying him carefully back out of the building, John and Gwen following. For once, Sherlock didn't protest; he thought if he tried to walk, his legs might collapse from under him. The only female in Torchwood followed, talking to John. "So what happened, like what really happened? What did it do?"


Jack carefully set the soggy, shivering boy in the backseat before taking his spot in the passenger seat.


"It was the fire elemental, said it wanted Sherlock, something about his mind being the only one that could support its life for very long. It told him about his father and claimed responsibility for everything that happened to Sherlock at his father's hand. Your guys relocating him only meant it took longer for the thing to find him."


Sherlock nodded, confirming what John said as Gwen got in the driver's seat. "So I guess it's lucky we found him, then. Otherwise this would have been a lot different."


John slid next to Sherlock, holding his quivering body and promising a steamy shower when they got home.


"I'm sorry we didn't tell you sooner, Sherlock," Jack murmured as Gwen pulled away from the curb.


Sherlock agreed, curling close to John for warmth. "It's okay, bastard got everything he deserved," he said bitterly. Gwen nodded solemnly; it almost surprised her to hear him so cold and hateful, despite what he had been through.


John kissed his damp forehead, grateful that the car ride didn't last too long. He helped the boy up to their flat when they were dropped off, locking the door soundly behind him. "Head on into the shower. I'll be right there."


The younger boy nodded, peeling his clothes off and heading for the bathroom, heating up the water before stepping inside. John turned down the bed and set out their pajamas before heading in himself, stripping and joining Sherlock.


The taller boy kissed John lazily, washing his body and enjoying the hot water. "It's finally over."


John smiled into the kiss, letting the water warm him completely. He grabbed the shampoo and lathered it up, working it into Sherlock's hair. "Indeed."


Sherlock leaned into John's touch, letting him wash his hair. He wrapped his arms around John's waist, wanting nothing more than to just crawl into bed and cuddle up with the boy. John rinsed the soap out of Sherlock's hair, making short work of his own before scrubbing them both down, filling the room with so much steam that he almost couldn't see his lover. Sherlock grinned, leaning through the mist to kiss John's lips. "I can hardly see you."


John wrapped his arms around the boy's neck and kissed back, exploring Sherlock's mouth with his tongue and giggling. "I know. I can feel you, though."


Sherlock's tongue danced around John's, chuckling breathily. "I feel you too," he purred, splaying his hands across John's back.


They stood there for a few more moments before the blonde turned the water off, kissing Sherlock a few more times before getting out of the tub, holding out a towel for the boy. "Come on. Let's get you dry and into bed."


Sherlock got out of the shower, taking the towel gratefully. "Sounds good."


John dried himself off, shaking the water from his hair and watching as Sherlock did the same. He took the boy's hand and led him from the bathroom to their bedroom, pulling on his pajamas and climbing into bed. Sherlock pulled on a pair of pants and crawled into bed, curling up with John. He pressed his ear to his lover's chest and listened to the boy's heartbeat.  Alive...he's alive, he reminded himself. John tugged the covers up over them, letting their warmth and the blankets finally stop them shivering. He breathed in Sherlock's scent, kissing the top of his damp curls over and over. Alive, safe, together..."I would have followed," he murmured.


Sherlock looked up. "Please don't say that, John."


"But it's true. I can't bear the thought of living without you for a single second." He stroked Sherlock's cheek as he looked at the boy, memorizing his face. Sherlock shook his head. "Would you want me killing myself after you died? Please don't hurt yourself on my account."


"I wouldn't want you to be miserable. You saw how Jack was-how he is now that Ianto's gone."


"But he is still here, and he will get better, and he will be happy eventually and that's what Ianto would want and that's what I want for you."


John felt his eyes burn, unshed tears working their way to the surface. "I was terrified, the thought of having to live without're my life. I can hardly remember a time when you weren't there for me."


"I know. I thought I was going to lose you tonight, and you've been the only good thing in my life. But you have to understand that killing yourself is not going to help anything," Sherlock said firmly, looking into John's eyes. "I want you to live a long happy life regardless of whether I get to live it with you or not."


"All right," John whispered. "I-I promise, Sherlock."


"Good." He leaned up and kissed John on the lips. "I love you."


John kissed him back, holding him tightly to his chest. "God, I love you too."


Sherlock lay there for a long time, kissing John, before he finally pulled away. "Tired?" He asked.


"A bit, sort not really. You?"


"Somewhat," he replied, kissing John again. "But you know me."


"Mhmmm, I do," John smirked, deepening the kiss, his hands wandering down to cup his boyfriend's arse. Sherlock moaned softly against John's mouth as he felt the boy's hands wander downwards, wrapping his long skinny legs around John's waist. John's toes curled to hear Sherlock moan for him, using his leverage on the boy's arse to rock their hips together, purring Sherlock's name as they kissed. Sherlock moaned again, his hips bucking gently in response to the friction.


"God, John."


"Yes, oh fuck yes," John whimpered, rocking up harder, needing Sherlock more in this moment than he ever had before, desperate for this one last proof that they were alive and whole and safe and in love.


Sherlock reached for the hem of John's pajama shirt, tugging on it. He needed this too, needed to know that they were here. John broke the kiss, ripping the shirt off before claiming Sherlock's mouth again, tongues dancing and stroking each other as they continue grinding. Sherlock was making soft whimpering noises into John's mouth, rolling his hips against John's needily.


"What do you want?" the smaller boy panted, pulling back to look into Sherlock's eyes. "Tell me exactly what you want."


"I want you to show me that we're alive."


John kissed him harder, rolling them over and pulling off Sherlock's pants as he snatched the lube from the side table. Sucking on Sherlock's lip, he slicked up his fingers and began prepping the boy. Sherlock groaned, running his long fingers through John's hair as he stretched him.


John worked faster than he normally did, needing Sherlock desperately, the boy's fingers in his hair making him purr and growl. The younger boy loved the noises coming from his lover's throat; he tilted his head backwards, exposing his neck to John.


With a hiss, John nipped and sucked the bare skin, trailing his teeth along the pulse there before biting gently and running his tongue back over the marks, finally withdrawing his fingers and slicking himself up. Sherlock made sure he was in a comfortable position, legs spread to make it easier for his lover.


With a low moan, John pressed into Sherlock, whispering the boy's name over and over as he peppered his throat and jaw with kisses, sucking his earlobe. Sherlock gasped John's name as the boy entered him, his eyelids fluttering. "Oh god, don't stop," he panted.


John smirked, kissing his cheek sloppily. "I don't intend to," he whispered before pulling out and thrusting back in, still slow, the same rhythm as when they had been grinding before. Sherlock moaned, enjoying the slow, tender pace; it made every movement so much more passionate and loving. He put his hands on John's shoulders, slowly moving his hips in time with John's.


The blonde boy whimpered softly, moving his head so he could look into Sherlock's blue eyes, could lose himself in the boy. "You're beautiful and amazing and tight-" He shuddered slightly on the last word as he ground against Sherlock's prostate.


Sherlock's head fell back, calling out John's name. "Oh my god... John..."


John did it again, circling his hips in a move he'd read about but hadn't tried before; Sherlock melted, moaning loudly. "Ah! Oh god... J-john!" he stammered, finding it hard to think straight.


John grinned, repeating it harder, leaning in and kissing the boy, swallowing his moans and cries of joy. Sherlock kissed back, noises of pleasure vibrating from his throat as John repeated the move that was driving him crazy. Reaching down, he stroked Sherlock's arousal, pulling the boy over the edge, desperate to hear him come.


"Oh god, John!" he shouted, his orgasm rocking his whole body as he came.


John drove into his shuddering hole, crying "Sherlock!!!" as he came, shuddering and trembling.


Sherlock rode it out, his head dropping back against the pillows when he finished. "You...are...brilliant."


John chuckled weakly, fumbling for their towel and cleaning them up, snuggling against Sherlock's chest. "Why thank you."


Sherlock smiled. "Night, love," he whispered, kissing the top of John's head.


"Goodnight, Sherlock," John murmured, pressing a kiss to the boy's chest before falling asleep, safe, warm, loved, and together.

Chapter Text

The months went by, and then years started slipping past. Sherlock grew up and adjusted well to his new life and job; he was happy with John, and with Torchwood. They eventually moved out of Ianto's old flat, buying their own. It was different for a while without him, the incident had left everybody sufficiently shell-shocked, and for a while it was hard, but time heals all wounds. They still missed him, but slowly, the pain began to fade and they all started to move on.


Somehow, and John had no idea how they had managed it, he and Sherlock made it to their thirties, very old hands at Torchwood. Jack was still there (they couldn't imagine the immortal ever doing a different job), but Gwen and Rhys had moved on, wanting to settle down. The gang still visited the happy couple from time to time, practically uncles to the twins.


Sherlock was glad to see Jack seemed to be slowly returning to normal, and now he seemed happy...although some days he could tell he was upset, staring at the tie that had been left hanging in the bunker as a memorial to the man and lover he'd lost.


The genius still felt exactly the same for John as always, madly in love with him. He knew, no matter what happened, that his feelings toward the man who had healed and fixed and loved him would never change.




On the fourteenth anniversary of their joining the institution, John took Sherlock out for dinner; they knew Cardiff well now and the restaurant came highly recommended, but they would never know that they were at the same restaurant Jack had taken Ianto to after Sherlock's night at the hub all those years ago. Sherlock sat at the table, smiling at John. "Fourteen years," he said, holding up his class. "Or twenty-three depending on which one we're celebrating."


John blushed. "Both," he smiled, toasting with Sherlock and drinking deeply, working up the courage for what he was about to do, watching as the love of his life took a drink from his glass, smiling at John over the rim of it.


Taking a deep breath, the blonde reached over and took the younger man's hand in his, marveling at how they had both changed. Sherlock had stayed lanky but had put on some wiry muscle. He was still shorter and stockier but stronger and could easily carry Sherlock when needed. "I have something I want to ask you."


"Yes, John?" John was so different from the little boy he first met, and yet he was still John, completely and unchangeably John.


Breathing deep, John looked into those perfect blue eyes. "I've known you since I was seven-years-old, and I've loved you since I was thirteen. It took me three years to tell you, and I've been the happiest man alive ever since." He got up and knelt down on his good knee (the other had been injured a year before). He stared up at the man Sherlock had grown into, and pulled a box out of his jacket pocket. "Sherlock Holmes," he opened the box, "Will you marry me?"


Sherlock sucked in a breath, covering his mouth with one hand. The ring was simple, a golden band with the word 'Elemental' engraved on it; it was beautiful. He nodded slowly. "Yes," he choked out. "Oh god, of course, yes."


John beamed, slipping the ring onto Sherlock's finger as the man dragged him up for a deep kiss. Sherlock had said yes, said yes to him! Sherlock kissed John with everything he had in him, wrapping his arms around his neck. He could tell they were being watched, but it didn't matter one bit. He was so happy, tears falling down his cheeks silently.


"Are you all right?" John whispered when he broke for air, smoothing a few unruly curls out of his lover's eyes.


"I'm perfect," Sherlock told him. "Absolutely perfect."


"Good." John smiled and pulled him back in for another kiss, soon straddling the man on the seat, the same booth that Jack and Ianto had sat at years before. Sherlock put his hands on John's hips, forgetting the world around him as John kissed him. They would have stayed like that for a long time had John not heard a cough behind him and realized the waiter was standing there, glaring very disapprovingly. "Would you like your check, sir?"


Sherlock chuckled, pressing his forehead to John's, a show of affection that he used regularly. "Leave it there," he murmured, pointing to the table; the waiter did, walking away in a manner that oozed displeasure.


John giggled softly. "I feel like a teenager again. Remember when Gwen walked in on us?"


Sherlock laughed. "Oh god don't remind me," he groaned. "You always make me feel like a teenager."


"Good, then we'll never truly grow old."


"Of course not, Jawn," he chuckled. He had taken to using the slightly different pronunciation as a sort of pet name for John.


The shorter man hummed softly. "What do you say we get out of here?"


"Let's go."


John paid for dinner and took Sherlock back to their flat, beaming the whole way. He laced his finger's with Sherlock's as they walked, leaning into the man from time to time. Sherlock smiled, holding John's hand tight.


They made it back to their flat without incident, and Sherlock unlocked the door, letting them in. John shut it behind them, locking it and dropping his keys in the dish by the door, an elegant solution to avoid running them through the laundry. He turned to face his fiancé, grinning like an idiot. Sherlock smiled, wrapping his arms around John's neck, the ring pressing against the base of his neck. "I love you."


John beamed, one hand coming up to stroke the ring on Sherlock's finger. "I've always loved you," he whispered, pressing their foreheads together


"You're perfect." Sherlock pressed his lips to John's tenderly, smiling against his mouth.


"No, I'm kissing perfection," John murmured, pulling Sherlock closer and properly snogging him.


Sherlock kissed his fiancé passionately, savoring the familiar tastes and smells, the soft blonde hair, the firm and stocky frame of his lover's body. Everything about John was wonderful, and now Sherlock would be his forever...not that he hadn't already been. John couldn't get close enough, threading his fingers in the man's hair and pulling him tighter to him, breathing sharply through his nose when he realized he was out of air. Sherlock pressed himself against John, feeling the other man's warmth against his chest.




"After you."


John tugged his arm, pulling him to their room, shutting the door, and shoving Sherlock against it, kissing his mouth and neck, everything he could reach with Sherlock's coat and scarf on. Sherlock breathed out a moan as John's lips ravaged his throat; John knew full well that drove him crazy. The shorter man tugged off the scarf, freeing more of the alabaster skin as he worked it with his mouth, Sherlock's moan making his cock twitch.


The younger man felt himself growing harder, his hands knotting in the fabric of John's jumper and pulling him closer. The blonde grinned, nipping at Sherlock's neck before pulling away just enough to see the man's eyes: black with a ring of blue as the pupils blew. "What do you want to do tonight?" he teased.


"Would you like to change things up a bit?"


John raised an eyebrow. "Keep talking."


"Maybe I could try, you know, topping tonight?" Sherlock asked sheepishly.


John's eyes widened for a moment, and then he kissed the man so hard the room spun. "Yes," he breathed. God knows Sherlock would know how by now; he'd probably be bloody fantastic at it. Sherlock grinned, gently urging John towards the bed, laying him down.


John lay with Sherlock on top of him, already breathing heavily and growing hard with anticipation. The taller man leaned down and kissed John, tugging the jumper off before slowly working at the buttons on the nice shirt he had worn to dinner. The doctor kissed back, arching up as the man laid his chest bare. Sherlock kissed the revealed skin gently, his lips cold against the warmth John always seemed to radiate. He shrugged his own coat off, tossing it to the floor.


John reached up to help with his shirt, fingers popping the buttons on his favorite purple shirt and hands stroking the pale chest of his lover. Sherlock shuddered, leaning in to the touch as he reached his hands between them to unbutton John's trousers. The older man whimpered, lifting his arse so Sherlock could slide the clothes off as he pushed Sherlock's shirt off his shoulders. Both jeans and shirt were dropped into a heap on the floor.


John took Sherlock's face in his hands, kissing him deeply and passionately as the younger man ground his hips down, drawing a moan from his lover; both men ached for more friction, Sherlock grinned, grinding against  John's hips again to get another moan out of him, to tease him. John moaned even louder. "I want-I need you."


Sherlock nodded, pulling back to strip himself of the rest of his clothing. John watched as Sherlock revealed the rest of his pale skin and lithe limbs; he still, after all these years, could not figure out how he'd gotten this lucky. Sherlock leaned down, removing John boxers quickly. "I love you," he whispered, leaning over to grab the bottle of lube from the bedside table.


"I love you too," John whispered back, spreading his legs a bit to make it easier for Sherlock to reach.


Sherlock kissed John, slicking the man up and slowly pushing a finger inside him. "Let me know if you want to stop."


John gasped at the sensation, Sherlock's fingers were cold. "D-don't stop," he breathed; he nodded, carefully working in a second finger, stretching him slowly.


John squeezed his eyes shut, gasping as those long fingers worked him open, the bizarre part of the sensation soon changing into something else; it felt so good, so right. Sherlock worked in the same scissoring motion John had used on him a lot, watching the man's face to see how he reacted.


John was keening and whimpering, alternating between staring Sherlock in the eye and letting his eyes roll back in pleasure. Sherlock loved the expressions on John's face, and he slipped in a third and final finger, stretching him even more to make sure he would be fine. John groaned. God, how did Sherlock stand taking this every time; he didn't think he'd last long at this rate. "I'm-ready-" he gasped, not wanting to wait another second.


Sherlock nodded, retracting his fingers and slicking himself up, slowly pushing himself down into John, groaning at the sensation. John very nearly came, unable to make a sound for the feeling, breath stuck in his throat. Sherlock pushed all the way in before slowly rocking his hips and settling in his lover. "Oh god John," he moaned, loud and breathy.


"Oh fuck, oh Christ, Sherlock," John whined, astounded that they had never done this before. Sherlock continued, thrusting into John. He bit his lip, trying to concentrate on something as he shifted his angle slightly.


John cried out, back arching, thrusting his hips harder into Sherlock. "Jesus," he gasped as Sherlock hit his prostate.


Sherlock moaned, swearing loudly. That was new; John's eyes flew open, meeting Sherlock's stunned expression, reacting to both John's own reaction and his curse. "Oh god, harder, Sherlock. Show me we're alive."


Sherlock heard him use the words he had so many years ago. He smiled, panting as he drove himself into John harder. The blonde ground up when he could, but he mostly just let Sherlock take him, all of his senses overloading; he reached down and started stroking himself, aching for friction so badly he could barely stand it.


Sherlock couldn't last much longer. John was tight and warm around him and it was unlike anything he had ever experienced. The doctor stroked faster, timing it with Sherlock's thrusts until he came, screaming the man's name as he clenched around him and spilling all over his hand. When John tightened around him, the genius lost it, his hips bucking hard as he climaxed, shouting John's name until collapsing on his chest.


It took John a full minute to get his breath back, holding a sweaty Sherlock to his chest. "Wow," he finally breathed, kissing the damp curls on the taller man's head. "You're bloody amazing."


Sherlock pressed his lips to John's damp chest gently. "You are brilliant," he whispered back, smiling at him. John chuckled, wincing slightly as he reached for their towel.


"You okay?" Sherlock asked, moving over so he wasn't laying right on top of John.


"Slightly sore, not used to that," he replied, still grinning as he cleaned off his hand and chest.


"Yeah... Sorry." He didn't want John to be uncomfortable; he had been there before.


"You know something though? I can't wait to do it again."


Sherlock grinned, cleaning John off gently. "I can't wait either. That was...enlightening."


John nodded. "You're the most amazing anything I've ever known, Sherlock...and I get to marry you."


 "I think I'm the lucky one here."


"No, I am."


"Well, agree to disagree." He cleaned himself off quickly before wrapping his arms around John. The older man pulled him close, playing with his lover's hair. "Agreed," he grinned, snuggling closer to his future husband and pulling the blankets up


Sherlock kissed John's forehead gently. "Good night."


"I love you, Sherlock."


"I love you too, John."