Title: Nothing is that simple, is it? 4/?

Fandom: Torchwood

Author: Hayley-Saxon-xx

Rating: T

Genre: Sci-Fi/Romance

Word Count:

Warning: Slash, swearing, bit of blood-loss and gore throughout the fic. No additional warnings.

Spoilers: Every Torchwood episode more or less, definitely CoE.

Summary:

A/N: So sorry for the delay. I was on hold as I'm preparing for exams and stuff. Year 10 is a pain :) But it's almost the holidays so I'm coming back, baby! Thank you for all your reviews you mean so much to me. Please keep reviewing, even though I don't deserve it.

It was Monday morning. Finally. Gwen had been waiting, almost lifelessly, for the past week, waiting for Monday to come. She hadn't slept the previous night. Not even for one minute. She'd tried to go upstairs to the bed she shared with Rhys but she'd found it so difficult. A) because she was so used to sleeping on the sofa; the grandfather clock chiming to her every hour and B) because she was so restless that she couldn't even close her eyes and the red digits of her alarm clock were giving her a headache.

In the dead of night, whilst Rhys snored away, she'd gotten up and hauled herself downstairs, curling on the sofa. She hadn't even tried to sleep for she was scared she'd wake up too late to make it to the docks. Yet when the light began to stream through the window, she realized she wasn't even tired. She was wide awake, as if she had slept.

She was making herself a cup of tea, gazing at the pictures of her and the Torchwood team when Rhys staggered down the stairs, running hands through his hair.

"Morning, darling, where did you go last night?" Rhys asked, joining her in the kitchen.

"Came downstairs, to clear my head," She replied, pushing past him with her mug of tea. Whilst she went past, Rhys yanked the mug out of her hand. Gwen turned and glared at him only to be met with Rhys' far sterner face.

"I can't do this anymore," Rhys shook his head, placing the mug on the side. "I can't sit around, watching you worry yourself to death. I feel like a widower, Gwen! I actually feel like your dead!"

"How do you think I feel, Rhys?" Gwen asked tearfully. Rhys scoffed, laughing in disbelief.

"For fuck sakes, Gwen!" Rhys bellowed, desperately trying to awaken the Gwen he used to know. "It's not all about you, you know? I have feelings too! Gwen, we've had this discussion about your feelings and I have to cope with you falling apart in front of me, Gwen. And I've tried, fucking hell, I've tried.

"You're just a hopeless wreck. Nothing I do seems to help. It either makes things worse or just gets ignored. Now, I've tried to hold you together, tried to pick up the pieces and mend you, Gwen. But you make it so bloody hard! You just shut me out and act like I don't mean anything!"

"Maybe it's because I can't live a mediocre life! I can't be a normal wife, Rhys! I can't wake up, watch Jeremy Kyle all day, eating toast, drinking tea then watch the soaps and go to bed. I can't do that all day, Rhys… I just can't."

"That's what I am then, is it? Mediocre?" Rhys asked, obviously hurt. "I knew you'd just settled for me."

"That's not what I meant…" Gwen shook her head, trying desperately to make Rhys understand. But no one understood. Not even Jack or Ianto would understand. See, they had each other. They had someone from Torchwood, they had someone who knew what it was like to be in Torchwood, to have that danger, that excitement. Rhys was a normal bloke, dragged into something unbelievable.

"Yeah, it bloody is!" Rhys yelled. "We all know you're in love with Jack! What has Jack fucking Harkness got that I don't? I know he's more exciting than me. I know he's more energetic and charismatic, but for fucks sake, Gwen, I try. I know he walks into a room and everyone falls at his feet. I know he's gorgeous and powerful and protective… but no one, not even Jack, can love you more than I do. No one can care and look after you as much as me.

"I might not have a super science fiction base, or a fancy car, or a long coat, or an American accent but I love you more than anything. From what I heard from Ianto, he's not much of a partner. He's a bit, introverted when it comes to sharing things."

"I know, darling, I know," Gwen nodded, putting both her hands on Rhys' cheeks. "I love you, babe. I don't want Jack. I want you. I married you. Rhys Alun Williams, I love you, you daft sod."

Rhys grinned and kissed Gwen softly. They lingered in each others arms for awhile, listening to the quiet, almost lulling sound of the clock ticking and each other's regular, slow breathing.

"Rhys...?" Gwen was the first to speak, looking up into Rhys' grey pools. He looked back into her eyes, smiling softly.

"Yes, darling?" His voice was low and hushed, like he didn't want to disturb the pure tranquillity and beauty of this moment.

"I'm still going to that warehouse today, you know," She gave Rhys an apologetic look and then she was up, out of Rhys' arms, off the sofa and up the stairs to get changed.

There was nothing Rhys could say or do to stop her.

I'm sorry again, guys!

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