Chapter Text
Rhys yells angrily, “You endangered Anwen. You endangered me. You nearly got your bloody self killed.” Gwen’s fury unleashed by his words, venomous. “You don’t care. You never will. It is all about Anwen and your parenting better than mine. I have a life in Torchwood. I have a life there. You want me to give up everything, again. It can’t always be my gift and your expectation, Rhys. She isn’t even old enough to understand. But she loves us, even if you don’t.” The anger spills over and Gwen slams her fist against the counter, the wine glass from earlier topples over and she slams the door as she leaves.
“Jack.” She says, her breath catching in her throat. He hugs her tightly as she slams into his chest. “Rhys didn’t mean it. You’ll be okay.” She locks eyes with him, trying to get through to him. “He handed me divorce papers. He demanded I give over Anwen.” Jack wraps his arms around her and gets her to stop wriggling, stroking her back seemed to calm her. “Your first instinct was to come to me?” He guffaws as though he was in disbelief, even though he and Owen, rarely Ianto, had been her go to men. “Anwen is nearly three and doesn’t know anything about our world. Rhys doesn’t bother to understand it either.” As she wracks with every sob, he just holds her there, in the old parking complex, with the comfort and love of a husband, a father.
Signing the divorce papers, she puts them in the dull envelope and folds the clasp. “I will get Anwen.” Rhys says with anger. Malice in her voice, “Not without a plea of insanity.” She slides a note over to him, non-evidential. He for some reason, forgets how much of a problem alien intelligence in the justice system could be.
“Gwen, I’ll help. Let me help.” Jack grabs the boxes she was carrying and kicks the door open. Her new flat is larger and more bland with white wash walls. “Jack, stop.” Gwen commands as she pulls the boxes out of his arms and onto the hard wood. Anwen becomes the main topic of conversation, allowing him to slip in quips about children. “How is she handling her mum being gone?” “It hasn’t hit her, she’s a toddler.” The pain in Gwen’s voice is all Jack needs to hear to decide he’s staying over.
At about three in the morning, Jack hears her wracked sobs from the bedroom. Knocking, he realizes how much he may have pushed her earlier. The door opens and they stand there, the quiet of the situation gives an unnerving mood. As he pulls her against his chest, she notices just how invested in her family he is, he is family.