I knew I had to go back. At least once. Or I would hate myself forever.
Well, hate myself more than I already do.
Wrapping my coat tighter around me, I make the slow walk through the cemetery. I always hated cemeteries. Everything was always so impersonal. One granite slab with a few words. It's nothing what they deserved.
Especially Ianto Jones.
Reaching his gravestone, I look down at the cold slab. Impersonal. 'Here lies Ianto Jones - Brother, Uncle, love, friend'. That's it.
It's not enough. Not even close enough to describe what Ianto Jones was. He was more than a love - he was my love. The focal point of my existence. That's what he -is-…his death can never change that.
Glancing around, I kneel in front of the gravestone, tongue tripping over what to say. "I came back," I start awkwardly, folding my hands together. "Just for a bit though. I've been so many places recently, Ianto. Trying to run away from what I did to you. What I did to Tosh, and Owen, Steven and Suzie." I take a deep breath, feeling myself begin to break down. "It's not working."
Reaching forward, I brush a few flowers in front of his grave. "The right thing to say would be to say that I'm sorry for not coming to your funeral. But truth is, Ianto, I'm not. I saw your dead face once, and it haunts me every time I close my eyes. Once is enough."
A groundskeeper walks by, glancing sympathetically at me. I stop, just staring at the stone. And it's like a barrier, separating Ianto from me. The living from the dead. "This is the closest I've been to you in six months," I gasp out, fisting my hands, fingernails digging into my palms. "It never used to be that way. A couple. I wish I had said that word. Because it's what we -were-, Ianto. We were a couple.
"And I know I said I hated that word. I still do. But I was a couple with -you-. That's what mattered. Working for Torchwood, I forgot you were mortal. After everything you've done and saved. I thought, that by magic, you had shed your mortality just like you shed the nickname of Tea Boy. "
Biting my lip hard, I look down, and it begins to drizzle. But I can't feel anything except for the indescribable ache in my chest.
"I needed rescuing," I admit quietly to the ground, not daring to look up at the headstone. "And you rescued me. Everything you did brought me back, inch my inch. Your coffee, your suits, your smiles, your hair, your - " I gasp out a sob, feeling the last semblance of control slipping.
"But who's going to rescue me now, Ianto? My life was you. You were it. All of it. And now you're gone. If only I hadn't let you into that damn building!"
The self-hate builds up so much that I can barely breathe. Tears cloud my eyes and I can vaguely feel blood on my palms. But all of this, all of the pain, is worth it. Because I don't have to feel the aching of my heart.
"If you're a ghost now, -please-," I plead softly, opening my yes again, staring up at the sky. "I need you see you. Feel your presence. -Please-. Just one more time. I will do anything…!"
Fifteen minutes pass, and there's nothing. Not a word. Not a touch. Just as I'm about to get up and leave, I feel it. An invisible pressure, an invisible arm, over my shoulders.
"Ianto?" I whisper brokenly, trying to sound the tiniest bit in control. "Ianto, is that…?"
There's a squeeze on my shoulder and cold lips on my cheek, and I know. It's him. It's really… "Ianto," I gasp. "Forgive me, -please-. Please forgive me. I'm sorry. Because of all of this I'm so sorry. You should be alive, with me, but instead Rhiannon had to bury you so young, because of me!"
Another arm joins the first one, linking hands together and I feel his cheek on my shoulder. I close my eyes, and I can imagine him. The real him.
"Does this mean you forgive me?" I whimper, gasping out a sob.
He nods, then stills.
He forgives me. He really forgives me. It's not enough, nowhere near close to enough. But it's a start, because he forgives me.
"Then forgive me for this too," I say softly, wiping my eyes. "I'm leaving. Earth. This whole planet is a graveyard. Full of dust and skeletons and bones. I don't think I'm coming back. So this…me doing this…it's a real goodbye. A proper goodbye. From me. A proper goodbye, can you imagine? Me."
The arms tighten around me, and it almost breaks me. Biting back a sob, I shake my head. "I can't stay here. Not after everyone I've killed. I can't. I see your face everywhere. Every cut of a suit, I see you. Every time I smell coffee, I see you. Every time I hear a ruffle of paper, it's you I see. I need a new life." I bite my lip, closing my eyes again. "Forgive me."
The invisible weight disappears, and I hunch forward, sobbing. He doesn't forgive me. I knew he wouldn't. How could he?
Lost in my thought, I almost miss the invisible pressure on my chin. Giving in to it, I open my eyes and look up, and gasp. It's -him-. He's the same height, the same suit in Thames House, the same cut on his cheek.
He opens his mouth and speaks, his voice oddly echoing. "Gariad, nid oes byth angen i gael maddeuant."
Translation - Sweetheart, you don't ever need to be forgiven.