Ianto Jones. My Ianto. He lay dying inmy arms as the alien gas overcame us. Gasping at the remaining air in the room, he choked out the three words I could never return;
"I love you"
And I loved him. Of course I did. But how could I tell him, knowing that I could never be what he wanted me to be? He would age, fade, wither and die, when I would stay the same, never getting older with him. I couldn't, wouldn't, condemn him to that. So, although I knew how it would sound to Ianto, I told him,
"Don't"
I saw my own pain reflected in his eyes as my harsh words registered with him. I could feel the gas choking me now, and I realised my death was near, as was his. I saw him fading, getting closer and closer to his end. My own death caused me no worry now, in fact I welcomed it. There was nothing I cared about more than the thing I was about to lose, not even my own life. I leaned in for one final kiss, praying that Ianto would understand, have some concept of how I felt, and slowly succumbed to the darkness again.