Out of special requests (which I really appreciate) here is a sequel/prequel/companion piece to Better Than This. Do not have to read both or in any specific order.
This was perfect. That was the first thing Jack thought when he awoke. Everything around him was absolutely perfect. Too perfect. Was that possible? Can something be too perfect?Yes Jack decided, something could be too perfect.
Jack rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand and sat up in bed quietly. It was very early in the morning, hours before his partner would wake, so he was careful to be as quiet as possible. Jack glanced around the room and took it in. Everything was in its place and neat. There was a perfect blend of the two men's tastes and likes. Pictures of the two of them, of the team, hanging on the walls. It was all perfect. Too perfect.
Jack turned and looked at the source of warmth next to him. He watched the rise and fall of his lovers chest and smiled to himself. The gentle rise and fall were proof that he was still there, that everything hadn't gone to hell, that he would wake up in a few hours. In just a few hours he would wake up and smile and it would be perfect. Too perfect. For if Jack knew one thing it was that nothing stayed too perfect for long. Once you get to the top, there is only one way to go from there.
Down.
Jack leaned over and looked at his lover, really seeing. He was older now, not old or even anything close to that, but he looked slightly older than Jack did. It wasn't that big of a deal, Jack knew that, but there was a point. Was he still the older man? Sure by years he was, but to others he was not. And that was fine. Really, it was. It didn't really bother him, well not that much. It was just...It was just that Ianto had specs of gray in his hair, his eyes were not as youthful as they had been in his twenties and his hands were worn. It was nothing really, but proof that age would destroy him eventually. Destroy. Yes, that was the right word.
It would happen slowly over decades. Well, for Ianto it would happen slowly. For Jack it would happen way too fast. In an instant, in a blip, everything that Ianto was would be gone. Jack would be looking at an echo of what Ianto was, what he loved and there would be nothing that he could do about it and that was what bothered him. How could he stand aside and watch is lover slowly decay, his body turning on him and eventually killing him? It wasn't fair. It wasn't right. It was torture. Pure torture, worse than anything he had ever endured and he was doing it willingly.
He couldn't do this anymore. This perfect spell had lasted almost twenty years and they had been perfect, but now there was no where else to go. The next twenty years would be filled with hate and jealousy. Ianto would hate his immortality just like Jack would hate his mortality. Jack would want to go out and do things that Ianto wouldn't want to, Ianto would want a more subtle life, something Jack would never be able to live. They would still love each other. Of that Jack was certain. He would always love Ianto more than anything in the world, in time, but there would be a gap between them. He knew that. He knew it, for it had happened before. Only this time it meant more to Jack. This time he didn't want to wait for things to go south. He wanted to always remember this as perfect. For that's what this was. Perfect.
Jack rose from the bed and got dressed slowly. He grabbed a bag and threw all his clothes in it. As he finished off the closet he stopped at Ianto's tie collection. A thousand years time, and Jack wanted to remember him. No, he didn't want to. He had to. He needed to, so he grabbed one of Ianto's ties and folded it nicely and placed it in his bag along with a few of the pictures that were scattered around the flat. Not all of course. Jack went back to the bed and made his half. Ianto would appreciate it. He wasn't going to leave the love of his long life with a mess to clean.
He then walked into the kitchen and grabbed a piece of paper to write a note... What the hell would he say? What could he say? What could he possibly say to explain how he felt without making Ianto feel guilty, or mad, or sad or regretful? I love you so much I have to leave? How cliche, how pathetic, how not right. No note. To leave one would insult their relationship. Ianto would know. He always knew. No note was needed, so no note was left.
Jack walked into the bedroom for one final time, looking at his lover for one final time. He reached over and gently caressed his lovers cheek for one final time. Ianto leaned into the touch in his sleep for one final time. Jack bent over and kissed Ianto's forehead for one final time and then looked at his lover , it was better this way, while it was still perfect. And for one final time, Jack walked out the front door.
Hope you enjoyed. Please Review -TOL