Three minutes after the attack

"Jack, I need to get him back to the Hub." Owen's voice was anxious as he took in Ianto's impassive expression. "There are tests I must run to find out the extent of his injuries."

He heard the words, understood the necessity for quick action, but Jack found himself unable to do anything but stare at the slack face nestled in his hands. "Are you alright? Did she hurt you?"

"No, I'm not hurt," was the monotone reply.

Jack's stomach clenched in anguish. During his youth in the 51st century, in all his time traveling throughout the universe, he'd met robots who displayed more animation, more vivacity, more life.

"Jack!"

Despite knowing the necessity of quick action, Jack couldn't move, couldn't make a decision. All he could do was crouch there staring at the young man who gazed blankly back at him. If only I had gotten here quicker. If only I hadn't left him unprotected. If only ...

A firm hand landed on his shoulder. A fierce shake and an ever louder shout of "Jack!" finally swept away the haziness that had descended on his mind. "What? Yes. Yes, of course. The Hub. We ... you ... you need to get him to the Hub." He assisted Owen with getting Ianto to his feet but still found he couldn't let go of the young man.

"Go with them, Jack. We can manage here. You should be with Ianto," said Tosh, her voice layered with sadness and concern.

One hour after the attack

"What are you doing?" Jack demanded as he watched Owen continue to attach electrodes to Ianto's scalp. "You said his blood pressure and heart rate are dangerously elevated. Why aren't you doing something about that?"

"Because I'm doing my job, Jack." The medic stepped around the distraught man, working at placing another electrode at the back of Ianto's head. "Dangerous, yes, but already starting to lower naturally. And, if I give him anything to speed that up, it may affect the brain scan I'm about to do." He muttered angrily as he tried to dig through the thick hair so he could place the electrode directly to the skin. "This would be a lot easier if you'd let me shave his head."

"No!" Jack reached up to pat Ianto's hair. "No, when he gets better, he'd be pissed as hell if you shaved him bald."

"Yeah, he would," Owen replied with little conviction. His gut instinct and all his medical training was telling him that Ianto would not be getting better. Since the vampire's attack, the young man had not exhibited a single emotion, only answering questions with a monotone drone or staring dully ahead. There hadn't even been a complaint when Owen had pressed an ice-cold stethoscope to his chest.

Once he'd finished placing the last electrode, Owen stepped back and wearily said, "Let's see what the damage is." He activated the main screen and watched with sinking heart at the display of Ianto's brain activity.

Jack stepped away from Ianto to stand beside the doctor. "That doesn't look good."

Owen was silent as he studied the image. There were the expected areas of bright red and yellow, indicating strong electrical activity. Even the regions lighting up green and light and dark blues could be considered encouraging. But the forebrain, the nursery of emotional response, was a pure, dark, deep black.

"What does it mean?" When Owen didn't answer, Jack demanded more stringently, "Tell me!"

Damping down on the urge to rage, to throw anything, everything in reach, to stomp and destroy and tear apart to assuage his roiling emotions, he instead answered stoically, "Brain damage. Significant brain damage."

Jack moved back over to Ianto. Clasping one of his limp hands in a crushing grip, he used the other hand to pull Ianto's head to his chest. The young man simply followed woodenly with the movement, blinking dully, unemotionally, uninterestedly.

"Can it be repaired?"

Jack's gaze whipped up to find Gwen and Tosh staring down from the railing overlooking the medical bay.

"Can it be repaired?" Gwen asked again.

Owen shrugged. "There have been cases where the brain rewires itself. Where, when one region is damaged, another region takes over those functions but, even today, we just don't know how or why. For all our scientific advances, the brain remains largely a mystery. There's no way to repair it. Once an area is injured, it stays that way. And we're talking extensive damage here. The hypothalamus, the amygdala, and the hippocampus show not one shred of electrical activity. Essentially those areas of Ianto's brain are dead. Add to that, his pineal gland is so damaged it'll never produce melatonin again."

Jack let go of Ianto and began pacing the small area. Rubbing at the back of his neck, he began mumbling, "Brain damage. Mending brain damage. A way to fix the brain. There's ... there's something." He crashed one of his fists onto a medical tray in frustration. Tosh, Owen, and Gwen jumped instinctively in surprise at the clattering noise. Ianto simply sat there, unresponsive to the unexpected sound. "Why can't I remember?"

He went back to pacing, rubbing the back of his neck more insistently with each step. "There's a device in the archives. I found it ... " He let out a puff of frustration. "I was in Penarth. It was ... it was in spring. Spring in the 1920s," Jack shouted in triumph. "Tosh, get on the database. Search for any device located in the Penarth area between 1920 through 1929. Exclude searches for medical artifacts. I lied about what it was but can't recall what I told Torchwood at the time."

Tosh, nodding her agreement, was turning away to sprint to her computer when Ianto spoke up.

"Penarth. 1923. Primary category - Entertainment. Secondary category - Dibnarth Tri-D visor. Operational status - Non-functional. Damaged and missing power supply. Usefulness to Torchwood - None. Location - Sublevel 3, Room 12A, fourth shelving unit on right, third shelf from top."

Four sets of shocked eyes stared at the young man who had just rattled off the information with an unemotional drone. Jack rallied first. "Gwen, you heard the man. Go get the visor. It looks like a tiny helmet, with a pale blue translucent face mask. Tosh, dig up the entry on it. There should be some information about the missing battery. You'll have to figure out a way to adapt something to get it working."

He noticed Owen staring intriguingly at the active brain scan still displaying on the large screen. "What is it?"

"Curious." Not taking his eyes from the scan, Owen asked, "Ianto, what did you have for lunch August 12th?"

The monotone reply came instantly, "A double serving of pork pie and coffee."

The display showed a surge of colors all around the brain, excepting the deep black of the forebrain, as he spoke. "That's something, at least. Unlikely but it could be a hopeful sign that his brain will rewire itself, or a vindication of my belief that his brain is wired differently than normal people's, but his memories are still intact."

"Why wouldn't they be?"

"The forebrain doesn't just handle emotions. It's also responsible for learning, memory, and motivation." He gave a stern, disapproving frown. "The more important questions are why is there a medical tool in the archives miscategorized as a broken entertainment device and why wasn't I told of it sooner?"

Jack looked only slightly contrite. "For two very good reasons. Because in the wrong hands, namely Torchwood at the time I found it, it could have been disastrous. It was developed to be used on human hybrids, specifically the offspring of Dibnarths and humans. Don't ask me to explain the details because I don't know but the brain cells of the hybrids would start dying until there was practically no brain function left. This device, used early enough, repaired the damage but it's not meant to be used on pure humans. And the second reason is that it was never successful if used on a Dibnarth/human hybrid older than five years."

Owen gave a bitter laugh. "If Tosh can get it working, I just have to figure out how to use it on a grown, pure human without killing him. So no pressure there."

"If anyone can pull this off, you can, Owen. I have complete faith in you and Tosh."

Three days after the attack

Jack walked gravely through the cog wheel, unsurprised to find Gwen waiting for him.

"Well, what did he say?" she asked anxiously.

He shook his head and her shoulders dropped sadly in response. "He's made up his mind." Jack paused to emphasize his next words. "Respect his decision, Gwen. Andy's certain this is what he wants."

"I will. It's just ... such a waste."

Nodding in agreement, he said, "I agree but it's not up to either of us. Now, what's been going on while I was away?"

Gwen perked up somewhat. "Tosh thinks she may have figured out a way to safely power the visor. It's complicated and I don't understand half of what she said but she gave me a long list of things she needs from the archives."

For the first time since Ianto was attacked, Jack felt an inkling of hope. He bounded over to Tosh's workstation while telling Gwen, "Well, get a move on. Those things won't retrieve themselves. I'll help you once I've spoken with her."

He found Tosh hunched over her desk, fingers tracing along a schematic. She was mumbling to herself, so softly that Jack couldn't figure out what she was saying. She looked up at his approach, a hopeful smile gracing her lips despite the great weariness evident in her pale face. "I think I can do it. The only problem will be to not overload the visor with too much power. I believe I can build a dampening field to lessen the electrical output from the sole battery source compatible with the visor."

He reached over, pulling her into a tight hug, and dropped a quick kiss on the top of her head. "That's fantastic! How long?"

"Two or three days," she answered as she pulled away from the hug. "Then Owen and I will have to run a series of simulations. The visor is complicated. There are a lot of different ... surgeries for lack of a better description. We will have to test which ones need to be activated and, more importantly, which ones need to be deactivated, to target the specific area of Ianto's brain that needs repairing. If we misjudge, we could cause more damage by trying to repair healthy brain cells."

Jack looked over to where Ianto was sitting idly on the sofa, staring dispassionately into space. "We have to take the risk. I can't lose him, Tosh. I can't."

Two weeks after the attack

There was a flurry of activity as Owen and Tosh double, triple, and quadruple checked every conceivable setting of the visor headset. What had, just a week and a half before, been a tiny helmet with a pale blue face mask, was now modified with numerous plastic spikes that precisely curved down along Ianto's head, the majority of which covered his forehead. Gwen was busy checking over all the medical equipment that might be needed in case something went wrong. And Jack was ... Jack was right where he needed to be, by Ianto's side as he lay on the medical trolley, firmly clutching one of his hands (the only part of Ianto he could touch without fear of dislodging one of the many electrodes or sensors covering his body), staring down into his eyes through the pale blue mask.

This will work. It has to. You will be okay. You'll be Ianto again and I will never, ever leave you unprotected again. Soon you will laugh, and smile, and snark again. I'll make you mad, and sad, and, yes, even miserable at times. You'll get angry. You'll plot revenge. You'll tell me I'm an idiot. I'll see your lips tighten in irritation and watch your eyes light up with mischief. I will give you such pleasure that you'll beg me to stop. And there will be teasing and joking. Caring and joy. There will be so much, Ianto. So much to feel and I won't hold back anymore. I promise you that. I will finally tell you what you've come to mean to me and will spend every single moment showing you just how much. You just need to get through this. Promise me that this will work and that you will get through this. Fight, Ianto. Fight with everything you have.

Owen turned on the vitals monitor, studying it for a moment to get the baseline. He then activated the large display which showed the all-too-familiar image of Ianto's brain activity, the frontal area still a void of black. "We're ready, Jack." He waited until Jack had bent over, kissing Ianto lightly on the lips before stepping away. "Tosh, start powering it up."

She nodded, tapping quietly on a keyboard that was wedged into a small corner. "Power at thirty percent."

The medic's eyes flicked to the monitor, noting the slight increase in heart rate and respiration before it settled down to normal. "Bring it up to seventy percent."

A few seconds ticked by before Tosh confirmed, "Seventy percent."

Owen nodded, looking again at the vitals ticking away on the monitor. "Full power, Tosh."

Everyone held their breaths for what felt like an eternity but was, in truth, just a few heartbeats.

"We're at full power."

With eyes glued to the display of Ianto's brain activity, Owen instructed her, "Start phase one."

The clicking of keys mingled with the steady beeping of the heart monitor. "Started. Expected time to completion is ten minutes." She swiveled her head to watch the display but kept her fingers poised over the keyboard.

Gwen wandered over to Jack and twined her fingers with his. "It's going well, Jack. He's going to be fine." She sounded like she was trying to convince herself of that fact.

Jack's gaze alternated from the display that showed no change in brain activity to Ianto, who had a sheen of perspiration on his face and chest. The beeping of the heart monitor increased in frequency as the minutes stretch on.

"Thirty seconds till completion of phase one."

Owen moved over to the young man. "Feel any pain, Ianto?"

"No pain but my brain is itchy."

Jack straightened in alarm. "Is that normal, Owen?"

"How am I supposed to know? I've been testing this on cadavers. It's not like I could ask them if they felt the need to scratch their brains." He studied the vitals, noting the steady increase in heart rate and respiration. He then turned his attention to the brain activity. "Look!" He pointed excitedly at the display. What had been a bleak black was now slowly pulsing a deep, dark navy blue. "Phase two, Tosh, now!"

"Phase two initiated."

Ianto's body arched upward, his back leaving the gurney completely. He gave a low keen of pain, gasping for breath. Sweat poured, soaking the sheet under him.

"Owen?" Tosh asked.

He studied the monitor, noting the concerning rise in heart rate, respiration, and body temperature. "Keep going."

"No! This is torture." Gwen glared at Jack. "You need to put a stop to this."

Jack stared at Ianto's pain etched face. He was close to telling Tosh to shut it down, to stop this torment of the man he loved. There was a brush of fingers on his arm and grey-blue eyes seeking his out. And there, for the tiniest of moments, he saw a spark, an inkling of emotion that gave him hope. Through the pain grimaced face, through the sweat sheeting off him, Jack saw a flash of fear lurking in Ianto's eyes. He had hoped that Ianto's first emotion would be delight or joy. He'd have even settled for confusion but he'd accept fear for at least it was something.He took a steadying, cleansing breath. "We trust Owen."

Tosh nodded cautiously and looked at the computer screen in front of her. "Three minutes until phase two is complete."

All eyes were riveted to the overhead display. What had been a pulsing of dark navy showed steadily growing points of dull greens and mute blues.

"Phase two complete."

"Jack?" Owen eyed him with concern, with uncertainty.

He searched Ianto's face, eager for any sign, hoping to catch a glimpse of something, anything. What he found was the ever-present blankness. The tiny moment of fear was gone but Jack had to hold on to the hope that it had brought. "Do it."

"Initiating phase three."

The reaction was instantaneous. Alarms on the vitals monitor began wailing. Ianto began flailing, body and limbs jerking, twitching. Jack and Gwen sprang forward, helping Owen keep the seizing man from thrashing off the trolley. Tosh was hurriedly typing on the keyboard even before the medic had ordered her to shut off the device. Unnoticed by any, the brain scan became an explosion of colors, a shifting kaleidoscope of brilliant yellows, vivid reds, stunning greens, and bright blues.

Three weeks after the attack

As had been the case every day since the attempt to repair Ianto's damaged brain, Jack was standing, Ianto's limp hand in his, staring up at the display with Owen.

The medic gave a deep, sad sigh. "Still no change." He pointed, unnecessarily, towards the scan. "Normal brain function except for the forebrain which is still showing minimal to no activity. There should be something. The damage has been completely repaired. Even his pineal gland has healed, something I wasn't expecting to happen. He should be firing on all cylinders but he's not and I just can't figure out why."

"He's not a car, Owen," Jack snapped. The weeks of seeing the soulless, blank stare, hearing the emotionless voice was tearing him apart. He spent every moment he could with Ianto, searching for any sign that the man who had come to mean so much to him was still there, was coming back. And every day proved to be a disappointment. It was destroying Jack, making him lash out at everything and everyone.

"True, but it's still an accurate analogy. Without getting too technical, the brain isn't too different from a car's engine. Petrol flows into a cylinder with a compressed piston then a tiny spark explodes the petrol in a controlled manner and the piston pushes down thereby moving the car forward. Ianto's brain has been repaired except he's lacking the "spark" which makes his emotions work." Owen shut down the display and began removing the electrodes covering Ianto's scalp. "We'll just have to figure out a way to get his brain start sparking."

Jack leaned down and placed a soft kiss on Ianto's forehead, more for his comfort since Ianto did not react at all to the action. "What do you suggest?"

Owen gave a quick hum, looking thoughtfully at the now blank display screen. "I'll start out trying a variety of psychotropic drugs, anti-depressants and the like. There are non-drug techniques such bright light therapy, maybe ionized-air reception or cognitive-behavioral retraining. The tricky part will be finding the right combination of drugs and therapeutic techniques to get him better."

Two months after the attack

"Is he going to be alright?" Jack demanded.

"Yeah, I caught it in time. There'll be no permanent damage to his liver or kidneys but I won't be able to continue with this drug cocktail." Owen threw the clipboard in his hand, shattering a multitude of glass vials in the process. "Fucking shit! And this one seemed like it was going to fucking work! Fuck! Fuck! FUCK!"

Jack settled a calming hand on the medic's shoulder. "Owen, it's alright. We'll try something else."

"No, it's not alright. You're depending on me. Fuck, Ianto's depending on me. I know he's in there somewhere, the sarcastic git, and I just need to ... to ..." Owen bent his head, the rage seeping away to be replaced by regret. "He's already had one miracle, the device that repaired the damage, but now I'm expected to pull off another miracle but I don't know if I can. I'm letting you down."

"You're not letting me down. Owen, you've been working at this non-stop for three months. When's the last time you spent a night at your flat? When's the last time you worked on something other than trying to fix Ianto? Maybe you need a break. Take a day or two off. Go home, go out and get pissed. Divert yourself from this for a few days."

"Like that's gonna fucking help. I'll just sit at home stewing about how I'm failing you."

Jack, despite wanting Ianto back at all costs, knew that Owen was at a breaking point. He needed to step back, needed to find some equilibrium. "What about that homeless person? The one that survived the Karteians attack. Mary or something? Why don't you go run those tests you wanted on her?"

"Maggie. You mean Maggie." He gave a harsh shake of his head. "No. I should start the autopsy on the vampire. Maybe it'll reveal something that could help Ianto." Owen's tone wasn't convincing.

"Or you could take my suggestion by taking a step back from this. The autopsy has waited this long, it can wait a little longer. Get out of here and clear your head. That's an order."

Four months after the attack

"Are you sure about this, Jack?" Gwen stood in the entrance to the flat with an empty box in her hands, worriedly chewing on her bottom lip.

Jack, standing in the center of the living room, was lost, gazing wistfully at all the pictures set in elegant frames scattered about the space. Images of he and Ianto in happier times, crinkled smiles and joyous expressions. Snapshots of Ianto with his family and friends, recalling times of high spirits. One of the young Welshman during his rebellious teen years, dour and simmering anger. Photos of hope, of joy, of affection and love. And a true representation of just what Jack had lost.

He nodded, briefly and sadly. "Yes. We need to pack up everything. Ianto's no better and we can't let him out of the Hub." His voice stuttered, emotion threatening to overwhelm him. "Not in the condition he's in right now." Jack became impassive, as unemotional as the man whose flat he was now standing in. "You start in here, I'll pack up the bedroom."

Five months after the attack

"It worked perfectly, Tosh," Jack was shouting as he strode through the cog door. "The Weevils packed up and moved their nesting location to the exact place we wanted. If we can use the aural emitters to move them where we want, do you think we can set up a system to keep them contained to certain areas? It'd save a lot of lives and make our jobs a lot easier." He stopped, looking around at the empty Hub. "Tosh? Gwen?"

Drifting up from the autopsy bay, he heard the jangle of medical trays and Tosh's voice, calm but with an edge of concern. "Hold your arm up a little more, Ianto." He dashed over, looking down from the chain railing. There he found Gwen holding Ianto's shredded shirt while Tosh dabbed away blood from four long gashes on Ianto's torso.

"What happened?" he demanded as he scrambled down the steps.

Ianto's dead-like drone answered, "It was time to feed the Weevils. No one was here."

"It's only a minor injury fortunately," Tosh said matter-of-factly. "This time."

Gwen bristled, and Jack got the distinct impression that he was walking in on an argument that had been going on for a while. "All we have to do is teach him to be cautious around the Weevils."

"What is caution, Gwen?" Tosh's calm demeanor dropped away. "It's nothing more than mild fear. Ianto can't feel any emotion. We can't teach him caution because he's incapable of experiencing it! He can't feel joy, or fear, or pride, or anything else. He isn't like a child that learns to not touch fire because he's scared of being burned again. Ianto knows he'll get burned but he doesn't experience the fear that comes with that memory. He'll still touch the flame."

Jack watched as Ianto stared blankly at the bleeding gashes on his abdomen. "So what do you suggest, Tosh?"

She shook her head sadly, tears welling in her eyes. "I don't know, Jack. I just don't know."

Six months after the attack

"Desperate man seeking sanctuary." Owen rushed into Jack's office, slammed the door behind him, and looked through the glass as if he was seeing if he'd escaped detection from the entirety of the Dalek empire. "There's only so much a man can take. Watching hours of fluffy kittens doing adorable things is the limit. It's sickening. It's disgustin ... Jack? Is everything all right?"

"He isn't going to get better, is he?" Jack, heartbroken and sad, stood and walked over to join Owen at the door. Looking out, he saw Gwen and Tosh laughing and pointing at the computer monitors at Tosh's desk. Between them sat Ianto, staring impassively at the images as the two women twittered and giggled.

Owen's mood sobered quickly. "No. I don't think he is going to get better. I've tried every medication that affects emotions on the market in every combination possible. I've bullied pharmaceutical companies into providing me samples of experimental drugs. I've even concocted a few of my own. He's shown no improvement. The bright light, ionized-air reception, and cognitive-behavioral retraining therapies were ineffective. Tosh tried doing meditation and yoga with him. Gwen's attempt at eliciting emotional responses through exposure to videos of fluffy kittens, cute puppies, and beautiful sunsets just results in him staring blankly ahead." Owen sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "We've tried everything conceivable. There's nothing else I can think of to try."

Jack nodded vaguely as if he wasn't quite hearing what had been said. "He isn't coming back. I've known that for a while but I didn't want to believe. I haven't wanted to accept that Ianto is gone and has been since the day of the attack." He turned and went to sit behind his desk. "It's time that I accept it though. It's time that we all accept it. It's time to let him go ... let the memory of what he was go. Having him here, as he is now, it's just too painful, Owen. I ... I can't do it anymore. Can't pretend that everything's going to be okay, that if we just keep trying that Ianto will come back to us, come back to me."

"Gwen won't like it."

Jack snarled, "Gwen doesn't have to like it."

Owen lifted his hands in a placating manner. "No, she doesn't. It's your decision to make. Not because you're Torchwood's leader but because of what you and Ianto meant to each other. I support you, Jack, and I support whatever decision you make." When Jack showed no response, Owen continued, "Do you want me to call Helen? Ianto can't stay here in the Hub. It's too dangerous. Flat Holm would be the safest place for him. I can take him there tonight."

"No. I'll do it," Jack replied quietly. "I owe Ianto that much. Just ... just give me a moment, will you?"

Owen left Jack there, staring intently at the phone, lifting his hand several times to grab the receiver before drawing it back. Despite knowing this was best, despite accepting that they had tried everything, despite knowing that Ianto was, and would likely always be, just an empty shell of what he had been, he kept hesitating to take the final step. A tear slipped down his cheek as he finally lifted the receiver and dialed the phone number. "Helen, I have a new patient for you."

In the end, Owen was Ianto's saving grace.

The Hub was quiet. Too quiet. Ianto, as was his routine when there wasn't anything for him to do, sat on the ratty sofa, impassive and unmoving. Tosh and Gwen sat on either side of him, each holding on to one of his hands. Owen wandered out of the kitchenette with a banana in his hand.

Jack was in his office, unable to yet face Ianto, while he waited for the clock to count down the minutes until it was time to take the damaged man away. And then a furious roar sounded and it was the most beautiful music he'd ever heard. He rushed from his office, taking in the most precious, glorious, unexpected vision.

Ianto stood in the center of the Hub, rage blooming across his pale skin, hands gesticulating wildly as he yelled at the stunned medic. "I am sick and tired of cleaning up after your lazy arse! Pick up your own damned banana peel, you git! And, you!" he yelled as he spied Jack, "you ..." His words were cut off as Jack slammed his lips against Ianto's."

"Of course! We never tried anger."

Gwen, only half paying attention as she watched the two men trying to consume each other, asked, "What are you going on about, Owen?"

"Anger, Gwen. It's the first emotion a baby experiences. Think about it. You're all warm and cozy inside the womb and then you're shoved down a tight, squeezing canal, pushed out into the cold where it's bright and loud and there's people poking and prodding you so you scream in anger. We spent all this time trying to get Ianto to laugh and smile and coo at sickeningly cute fuzz balls when we should have been trying to piss him off. I wonder if ..."

"Really not the time, Owen," Tosh giggled as the two men's shoes were kicked across floor. She grabbed her purse from her desk and turned to address Gwen. "As second-in-command, you have the authority to give us the rest of the day off."

"Shirts, gentleman," Gwen laughed as the clothes in question went flying across the room. "I think that's an excellent idea. I'm officially giving everyone the rest of the day off. You okay with that Jack?"

He moaned as Ianto began nibbling on his ear.

"I'll take that as a yes. Let's go to the pub. Owen, you're buying the first round."

The three teammates were tumbling through the cog wheel door, intent on giving the two lovers some privacy, when Owen glanced back.

"Oi! Not on my bloody desk!"

TBC in Epilogue 1 - Gwen's Tale