A/N: The times mentioned in this fic, were the times when I looked at the clock as writing
Alice Carter turned over in her bed and looked at the clock. 1:19am it read. She knew sleep wouldn't come. This was the fifth night since Steven's death and she hadn't have so much as a minutes sleep since then. She had managed to stop crying; for a few days it felt like all she was doing was crying. She wanted to scream, she wanted to deny it but she couldn't. She'd watched it happened, she's held his shivering body in he breathed his last. In a couple of days she would go to his funeral, she would bury her ten year old son.
The tears started again. Silently flooding their way down her face, soaking her pillow as she hid her face in it. This wasn't right. She shouldn't have to bury her son. It wasn't right. Steven's face entered her mind. She wished she could see his soft smile. She wished she could see his bright blue eyes light up, but she couldn't. All she could see was his confused horrified looked, just before he was sentenced to death.
She sat her and though the room was dark she could just about see the photo that was on her bedside cabinet. There was Steven, her happy, carefree, young son, smiling away. Smiling like he'd never smile again.
Jack was a coward. He knew it, the way he felt at this present time - which was 1:29am - he would happily admit it to anyone who asked. The way he felt at that moment he would happily have died and not come back. He didn't want to come back. He was fed up of life. He was fed up of doing the right thing by the world and the wrong thing by everyone he cared about. He was fed up of losing everyone who cared about. He was like a poison, everything he touched was destroyed.
He ran away. He knew it was the cowardly thing to do, but he couldn't stay in Cardiff. He couldn't stay in the city where everything had gone wrong. He couldn't… He… he hated to admit it, but he would, he was scared. He was scared to stay behind and see what happened next. He was scared to face each day in Cardiff. He was plan scared. And he'd had enough.
He looked down to the ground from the roof he was stood on. It was a lot way down. He stepped off, landing dead on the ground…
…Only to be dragged back into life a few moments later.
Gwen Cooper was curled up on the sofa. She couldn't sleep. She didn't want to, it was easier not to. When she slept she was haunted by the image of Ianto's lifeless body even more than she was when she was awake. She had her hands wrapped protectively around her stomach, not caring that it was 1:42 am. She made a vow to her unborn baby. She vowed to protect him - she had a feeling she was carrying a boy - no matter what. She would never let anything hurt him. She would never allow him anywhere near torchwood. That place was nothing but trouble.
She didn't blame Jack; Rhys did in some ways, but she couldn't. She felt she understood him in some ways. She understood his reasoning at least. She just felt so empty. She'd lost Tosh, Owen and Ianto to death, and she'd lost Jack to life. Four people she loved, four people she missed. Three people she'd never see again; one she was unlikely to see again.
Rhiannon had thought about it a lot since Gwen told her Ianto had died. It was one of the only things she thought about and it was tearing her apart. She had realised she didn't know her brother at all. She knew he was sort of with his boss Jack; she knew he was Ianto Jones her brother, but that was all. The fact that he was a civil servant she had quickly realised wasn't a fact. She wished now that she had been closer to her brother. She wished she had seen him more regularly, she wished she'd known him like a sister should know her brother. She wished she hadn't realised how little she knew about him this late. She wished she could fall asleep - it was 1:54 am after all - and wake up and find it was all a dream. There was never a problem with the children, Ianto never died. But she would never wake up, because it wasn't a dream…