Title : When Death stroke, Life came too.
Author : Alessan
Pairing : Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones
Disclaimer : Torchwood and its characters are the property of the BBC , I'm just borrowing them for fun.
Summary : A grieving Jack is attacked inside the Hub, just after CoE, after having discovered the missing of Ianto's body in the Morgue.
Warnings: A little twist in s2, totally AU after CoE, Dub/con, slash, animalistic behavior.
A/N: The Legend of Gallifrey and the Time Lords is available on Wikipedia for those who want to have the true version. I just twist some of it.
Jack Harkness, Head of Torchwood 3, was drinking in his office. The pain was too great. The 456 were dead now but they stole his heart, his Ianto.
Jones, Ianto Jones. His best friend.
Jones, Ianto Jones. His colleague and personal assistant.
Jones, Ianto Jones. His lover. His Welshman, the one who healed his soul.
Jack was overwhelmed by vivid memories of their life. Since their first encounter in that Cardiff park, how that young man, so full of vigor barged into his life like a meteor. Bad boy in leather, a wicked sense of humor and more charm than a thousand of stars would ever match.
Or their second meeting, in his perfect suit – God Jack was ready to shag him then and there for being so hot- when he tamed Myfawny, their pteranodon turned pet/guard dog. The young man hooked his heart that night! Jack wanted nothing more than to be tamed by the firm gentle hand of the Welshman.
He never regretted hiring him. Ianto was able to provide for all his needs before he was aware of them. Always a coffee ready for him, always a gentle word to focus him, a calming presence at all times.
Fierce and loyal Ianto.
He never doubted the loyalty of his Welshman, not even during the cyberwoman incident. Yes, Jack had been hurt, but not because Ianto lied to protect her. Hell, the former T1 agent was more dear to his heart because of that.
Jack, more than anyone, can understand the sense of duty, the need to protect and the loyalty displayed by Ianto for the shell of his former fiancee. No. What had hurt was Ianto's lack of trust in him, Ianto couldn't confide in him.
Ianto had atoned a thousand times for that mistake. And in the end, it was what bound he and Ianto together.
With no restraint. All consuming. Ianto gave into him heartily and with his own sense of honor. And Jack was more than glad, he, the ex-conman, time agent and state assassin. No one could understand Ianto better than Jack.
It was the man in suit who was there for him after Estelle's death and Jasmine's disappearance. Ianto's care that kept Jack whole.
There were some close calls. Like with the cannibals case in the Beacon; Captain John Hart. There was fury and jealousy and possessiveness. How did John dare to try to take away what was Jacks? His Welshman ! He could understand the attraction. Ianto was gorgeous, and John had always had a good eye for beauty. But fuck, Ianto was not on the market, and maybe Jack should have acted on his attraction before his ex-partner visit.
Jack rectified that mistake on the spot.
Jack took another drink of his third bottle of Bourbon.
Ianto Jones, his perfect Ianto, who ran Torchwood administration all by himself, sorted the Archives, supplied the team, working hours 24/7 to make Jack's life easier.
Ianto Jones, his perfect lover, to whom he taught a century of sexual experience from a whole universe. His young partner, always able to arouse Jack till pain bled into pleasure. His Welshman, whom he took on every available surface of the Hub, christening all the place with their love and lust.
Well, the healthy sex drive of the younger man had been replaced by an all consuming need after that other close call. An alien smuggler with illegal nanites, which had infected his personal assistant.
Owen was sure there was no effect than a full healed body, with dormant nanites. They never told him that Ianto was more needy than Jack himself after the event, not that they ever complained for the hot sex they indulged in at every opportunity. The thousand blow jobs in the first available shadow, the quickies whenever they could.
Jack looked into his empty glass a fond smile on his lips. Ianto managed to keep him, the immortal man, sore and raw for a full week. And God, it had been wonderful to feel so fucked out after more of a century, where his body had long forgotten such state of blissful soreness.
But Ianto was no more.
His dead corpse was in the Morgue, because of the 456.
And rivers of tears were running freely now on the sad face of Jack Harkness. Robbed of his heart.
His life was dull without his Welshman to enlighten it. He had decided to leave Earth. This evening would be his last on Earth, no star ship available to take him on the spot. Tonight would be the last time he would think of his lover before the oblivion of a universe took him.
The finally drunk captain stood once more, his uncertain steps aiming him like a magnet to the remnants of this life, where his heart was lay dead. He managed with some stumbles and false turns to reach his lover's resting place.
Hell struck him again. The gurney on which his lover's body should lay was broken, the rubber bag shredded in tiny pieces. In the empty room there was no body. Ianto Jones' body was missing. No flesh, no blood, nothing left saved the destroyed deathbed of his deceased lover.
Jack felt nausea shoot through him, before a surge of anger as great as his grief painted all in red. Where and who had stolen his lover's corpse? He would track and kill the offender ! Drunkenness drained from his tired body. He had a body to find and a thief to torture.
Years of training and experience kicked in. His investigation began.
His first statement was accurate: nothing left, save deep gouges made by claws on the gurney. Some on the floor, and some by the door.
Shit.
Fuck.
Some scavenger beast was rampaging through the base. A beast which had stolen Ianto's body. The ignorant monster should never have touch his deceased Welshman.
Mind focused, Jack rushed to the main station, activating the security system. He watched the CCTV footage in search of some clue. There was some EM disturbance and the next video showed a torn gurney in the Morgue. Nothing gave a clue as to how the desecration of his lover's body had occurred.
Wait. There. In the corner of the screen. A shadow. Reviewing the sequence, Jack could only see a nearly invisible shadow leave the Morgue. Wandering in some corridor. No hint. No clue of the nature of the beast. Just that it was massive. Bigger than Jack at least.
And it was quick. Quicker than the CCTV, leaving just a blurred shape on the video, and yes it WAS massive, probably more than 7 feet tall and broad.
Jack shuddered. He had to put that thing down before Gwen can come back or she would die too.
Armed with laser guns, the soon-to-be ex-head of T3 -he wouldn't postpone his departure from Earth- began to search each room securing them behind him. Myfawny was out for the night so he was without her usual assistance in sensing the presence of the being.
Meticulously he cleared each level from the deepest one to the Hub. Nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
No more claw marks. No hair. No lover's corpse.
There was only his office and his lair to secure. His bunker. The most defensible place of the base.
Fuck.
He would have to go there. The last time he had been there was with Ianto; their bodies slick and pressed together.
The perfect place for an animal to make its den just like Jack did.
Shit.
Swiftly, no more than a shadow himself, Jack entered his office. Eyes searching frantically the place. Nothing.
And the security system showed no additional presence in the room.
Great! the scavenger was undetectable by his advanced system. When things went wrong, they really went wrong. It has always been like that at Torchwood.
Lighting his lower room with his wrist strap, Jack tentatively wandered below.
Nothing. No trace of anything. He had only the adjacent bathroom to check.
As he turned he was knocked down by a heavy weight landing on him. The beast had used walls and ceiling like floors, and it was too late to think of that. How many deaths would he have to suffer before he could put the fucker to rest?
A low growl reverberated through him. Claws appraised his immortal self tearing clothes away. Fuck, he would be eaten alive.
The monster was heavy, twice or trice his own weight. Covered by a silky fur, his now naked skin could attest to it. The beast was very strong and had no difficulty keeping Jack still. There wasn't even a twitch of the hard muscle under that fur.
The creature didn't move. Just laying on a frantic Jack.
Until its breath, hot and shallow, skittered across Jack's neck and ears. Jack could hear the being inhaling deeply, and feel a cold nose - no wait, not a nose, a muzzle- buried itself in his neck.
Jack shivered. The muzzle began to scent him, and a deep purr erupted from the beast's chest, reverberating inside Jack's own body. A smooth canine tongue laved his neck and behind his ear. Bumps traveled along Jack's skin, shivers doubling when the hot hard flesh of the beast's arousal thrust lightly against his lower back and cheeks.
Shit, the monster was horny and it wanted a piece of Jack. And from his perspective under the being, the very male hard on was not small. Far from it. Probably the creature was proportionate.
Jack would be raped, he was now sure of it. He steeled himself, preparing for the beast to breach him like any feral monster. He was tense, waiting. Minutes passed and his attacker stayed there, licking him thoroughly from head to toe. Jack could have sworn that his would-be rapist was worshiping his body.
And the creature's ministrations affected him. He was now a panting, needy thing, his fear subsiding into something more like desire.
Sensing his prey relaxing, the beast purred louder and the sound was joined by some sort of crooning. Careful claws were wandering the immortal body, massaging each muscle. Jack was desperate: betrayed by his own body. Needy.
But the canine humanoid just continued to ...what? Revere? Worship? None save Ianto had ever been able to elicit such responses out of him and it was killing Jack to betray his lover in that way.
But his concerns and guilt weren't able to keep him lucid, not when the tongue licked its way in the crack of his cheeks, soaking his hidden door. The small pucker of flesh which couldn't resist the skilled assault of the marvelous tongue. And it opened itself for the greedy invader. Jack's lust finally blinded him and he surrendered to the dominant beast, pushing his hips against the hot muzzle buried in his ass.
It was wonderful, and he needed more, wanted more, hating himself for betraying his lover the same night of his death. The canine tongue was embedded in him, opening him further, preparing him for the next step. Moans and whines fought their way out of Jack's throat. Pheromones and musk were heavy in the air.
Jack wanted more but he found himself flipped over onto his back to face his attacker for the first time. Through the haze of lust, he finally saw it. It was a marvel.
More lupine than canine, the half-human half-animal entity was elegant. Hard strong muscles were rippling under the soft silky fur. It was an advertisement for Dominance and Power, a killing machine as its claws and fangs could attest.
A long bushy tail was weaving lightly behind its back. But the most notable trait was its eyes: blue on blue, an azure globe with a deep sapphire iris, bright as any gem, divided by a vertical pupil.
There were stars in those eyes, stars of passion, stars of lust, stars of love. The entity was watching him intently as if he was the center of the Universe, like Ianto used to do. Jack was mesmerized.
Pain. Agony. Trying to breathe, Jack felt the huge hard on entering him in one powerful thrust, until it bottomed out. Tears trained down Jack's cheeks. The being gazed at him, apologetic, as though it was sorry about the pain it inflicted upon its human partner. The soothing tongue drank the salty tears in an attempt at comfort, exploring finally the open mouth of the immortal, in a strange canine kiss.
The wolf-like creature distracted him with renewed attentions, clawed hands massaging nipples and cock, tongue battling its human counterpart until the pain receded. And then it began slow thrusts, gaining slightly in speed as the tight sheath of Jacks ass accepted the intrusion. It maintained a slow pace, teasing the captain's prostate and sending flashes of pleasure through the human body.
Jack was lost. A world of sensations. He was bathed in the blue loving gaze. Need and want were roaming his body. Pleasure was ravaging his nerves and brain. His world was contained in the creature lovemaking.
His release built slowly like a gigantic tidal wave from the depth of his soul. Before it could submerge him, pain flared again above his heart, sharp and wet, and his rim seemed to explode when a bigger swell entered the little flesh ring.
Through watery eyes , he watched the powerful jaw biting above his heart; he could feel the...knot, it had to be a canine knot filling him fully, hammering his prostate.
And Jack came screaming his Welshman name, bred like a bitch.
_ 'Not a bitch! Mate ! Lifebearer! Nurturer!'
He was hallucinating in the haze of pain and pleasure, sure the creature was filling him with semen.
_'Yes, conceiving our puppies! Our children! Mate!'
He swore loudly. He was not lost in some hallucination, those feelings were not his, nor were those thoughts.
The wolfish head looked smug, despite the dreamy eyes of pleasure.
_'Bonded! Mates! Telepath and empath!'
_ Who are you? What ARE you?
_'Yours! Your mate! Your hunter! Lycanian.'
An hallow laugh broke free from the Captain's throat.
_ Yeah, right. Lycanians are myths. They are an extinct species.
The wolf-like humanoid shrugged.
_'I don't know by myself. The name is from your memories. I...have no other memory, by myself'
The entity was frustrated.
_'I am like a newborn. I feel some wall hiding what should be my past. But I'm Lycanian, a Hunter, and your Mate.'
Jack began to fell asleep, his body satiated, the feeling of fullness a happy safeness, and the lingering shared emotions of love and peace. Darkness crept over his consciousness. His body still tied to his mate by the spurting knot.
When he awoke hours later, it was to the warmth of a pliant body sleeping soundly on his chest, soft skin against his, a well known scent filling his sharp nose. His Welshman. Still fuzzy, his body sore and so alive. He kissed the unresponsive dreamer, his skilled hands wandering all over the creamy body, bringing gently to wakefulness.
Moans and whimpers greeted his nimble fingers, shivers celebrated his mouth and tongue. Hard steel arousal pressed firmly against his thigh, needing pressure for some release. He knew each crease and bump, each sound, each reaction that he could elicit. And he played his symphony on his Welsh instrument, building a world of sensation.
Jack joined their bodies, filling his lover, without restraint he drank in the screams of pleasure, the prayer of his name thousand times repeated. Until it all faded away.
Jack opened finally his eyes to appreciate the view of his lover: Ianto's body was staying limp on his, eyes glazed by his orgasm, eyes blue on blue, Lycanian eyes.
Before he could react, those blue eyes closed and a light snore escaped the chapped lips. Disentangling himself from the Welsh sleeper, Jack climbed the ladder into his office, and dialed the only person able to help him: Martha Jones.
_ Torchwood 3, nice to ear off you.
_ Martha, it's Jack. I need your help. I need you to call the Doctor.
The voice of the young woman was tainted with sorrow and grief when she responded.
_ Jack, you know he can't do anything. He will refuse to endanger the Time-lines, he...
_ Martha, no. No it's... it's not for Ianto. Well not to bring him back. He...He may already be back or something alike. No, I …...last night, something impossible happened. I need you to call him because something that shouldn't exist anymore...Just tell him that last night a Lycanian found his Mate.
_ Jack, what is a Lycanian? Why the Doctor should be concern about it?
_ Martha, please just tell him that. He may be already on his way because if it's truly a Lycanian, there should have been ripples through Time and Space. And please Martha, come here quickly. I...i need a doctor because I'm probably pregnant.
_ …...I'll call and I'll be there in less than an hour
_ Thanks.
Emotionally exhausted, Jack crashed on his sofa, dosing quickly. A rich smell of coffee, a Ianto special blend coffee, caressed his nose. In front of him, in just dark boxers, Ianto Jones, or the being playing Ianto Jones was standing a cup of coffee in hand. There was a soft smile on Ianto's face, his Welshman's special smile, the loving one which always said ' I'm here for you'. And it hurt, it hurt so much.
Why did that entity choose his Ianto? How could it mimicked his expression, his moves? Why did it torture him with that beloved face?
_ Are you okay, Sir?
The tone was perfect, the concern rand true. All Jack's senses cried Ianto Jones, but it couldn't be. He died from the virus sent by the 456. And his lover was human, a normal human by medical standards.
Because Ianto Jones had never been average; he'd always been so much more, beautiful, loyal, and hardworking. He'd been an amazing lover. But the concern was sincere, Ianto or not, the being in the Welshman suit was his mate, and really concerned about the chaos of Captain Jack Harkness emotions.
_ No. Not really. Ianto is dead. And I don't understand how you can have his body.
The being tilted his head like a wolf, thinking about what Jack was trying to convey.
_ I don't know either Jack. I have Ianto Jones memories, I have his body, I harbor his feeling for you. I have his knowledge, I act and think like him. So if I'm not him, if I'm not me, What am I? I am Ianto Jones where it counts. I am no less Ianto Jones , than I was before the 456. Would I be less worthy of you than him, Sir?
Jack felt insanity creep into his brain. God, would the entity be less Ianto than Ianto? Or more Ianto than Ianto before? He was ready to lose it when the alarm of the cog door deafened him.
Martha and two soldiers of UNIT entered the Hub. Startled Jack sense a blatant threat clouding his heart. Under his gaze, he could see Ianto's human body growing, changing, fur spreading, claws and fangs lengthening. And he felt the overwhelming need to protect , need to shield his mate.
_ Martha, send them out NOW. He feels threatened.
Before he could continue, Martha had already ordered them out. A seven foot 8 inch feral killing machine was probably the most convincing argument anyone had ever given her.
Wary, the Lycanian was staying crouched in front of Jack, ready to act if needed. Martha approached slowly, smoothly. trying not to startle the big alien.
Jack was as wary as the Lycanian. Would the entity attack? Would it feel challenge for its mate? He couldn't risk the young woman's safety, not when his mind was clouded by the emotion of the wolf-like creature.
_ Mate! Hunter! whispered the Captain. He couldn't call it by the Welshman's name, it would be another betrayal, as great as having sex with his dead body turned meat suit for mythical being.
It seemed to do the trick. The Lycanian turned to him and engulfed him in a possessive embrace. The air was charged immediately with heavy pheromones. Lust and need shattered his control, and Jack gave in to the dominant creature, letting it ravish him in front of his friend.
Jack didn't know nor care where his clothes disappeared to; he was just aware of the steel hard shaft of his mate filling him once more, his rim molding itself around the aroused flesh like warm butter.
He didn't register doctor Jones gasps nor her blush. He was being claimed thoroughly, displayed to her eyes, bouncing in his Lycanian's lap, his head resting on the feral beings shoulder, lazy under the tender ministrations.
Jack came hard, screaming his Welshman's name again , seeing stars, soiling his chest with his own semen, feeling his mate's release filling him with the strong spurt of the knot that tied him once more to the hunter.
A smug sense of victory filled Jack's thoughts.
_'Mine! Lifebearer! You're mine for all to acknowledge! I will show them each time if I need to.'
A weak laugh escaped his dried lips.
_ I may like some public sex, Lycanian, but I won't be able to survive if you claim me each time someone approaches me.
_' I can try, and you smell so good! You smell like us.'
A small smile graced the Captain's mouth as he remembered Ianto's flattering compliments on his 51st centuries pheromones.
_ Jack? Are you okay?
Was he?
_ Yeah, doctor Jones, more than OK. I'm high on mating pheromones and endorphins, so I can't be better. Can you give us a blanket, please. I...we...ermm...We can't separate ourselves because there apparently another canine aspect of Lycanian anatomy that...ummmm...manifest itself during orgasm.
The young woman, flustered and fascinated, tried to make sense of Jack words. Her eyes widened as she finally began to understand what Jack was telling her. Her brain had been burnt with the moans and cries of Jack, his utter abandon to the pleasure offered.
She had no doubt: that "Lycanian" cared for Jack, that display was to prove ownership. But the adoration, the caresses and dozen other little things showed Jack was first, first for pleasure, first for protection, first for love.
She came back with Jack's coat only to find the wolf-like being pouting while Jack was laughing all heartily.
_ What did I miss guys?
_ 'Jack asked me why I don't act like Ianto, in this form if I claim to be HIS Welshman. So I tried to explain that all that is new to me, that this form is ruled by instincts. And he mocked me using one of our previous chat, calling me a dog ruled by his cock, like I told him after John Hart visit.'
Martha was surprised, telepaths were rarely able to enter her mind , since her encounter with the Devil trapped now beyond Time and Space. It was her most frightening experience with the Doctor something she never told to anyone.
_' ABBADON !'
The mental shout had them cringing, head's ringing like bells.
_ No, no, it's not Abbadon. Jack killed him, remember? It's a memory of my travel in the Tardis, When we encountered Abbadon's Sire. Few telepaths are now able to reach me if I don't let them in. You surprised me and I thought back to Abbadon. You're just a very strong telepath, empath too if your projections earlier are to be trusted.
_'...Sorry...'
_ So Jack, you called me for medical assistance...?
_ You...have lived in the future don't you? You know that for survival...
She understood, Jack was fearing some rejection so she answered soothingly.
_ Yes, Jack, I lived there and I helped pregnant males to deliver on occasion, I know about the adaptation for the race survival. You think you're pregnant, why? I thought that there were contraceptives in the twenty-first century.
_ For human males, yes. But Lycanian aren't human, they are very...adaptable and fertile with their mate. So...
From behind them, a known voice began a lecture, someone they both loved and dreaded.
_ Lycanian mating pheromones can prepare their mate to conceive, no contraceptive can stop it. Hi Jack, doctor Martha Jones. And it's a pleasure to see you, Ianto Jones. Jack had always spoken highly of you.
Jack was crushed by conflicting emotions, fear of the Time Lord's rejection, again, relief that the Lycanian WAS Ianto, and not something using his beautiful Welsh body.
The crooning rang through him, washing his worries away and soothing his nerves.
_'it's OK, Sir, it's OK. I'm here for you, always.'
Then the Doctor hugged them like he missed them, or nearly lost them, and Jack noticed for the first time how the Lycanian, well Ianto, remind him of the Doctor, the raw power they could exude. The kinship to the Vortex.
_ Doctor, you came.
_ As soon as Martha's call reached me, I was on my way here nonetheless. You were right Jack, the mating of a Lycanian would never pass unnoticed by me. The question is how Ianto this happened. Lycanian heritage?
_ But they are myth.
_ But they are sons of Gallifrey too, replied the Time Lord quietly.
Gallifrey, Jack and Martha heard of it. The Doctor spoke of it only when he was struck by a rare bout of homesickness. Gallifrey, the Home world of the Time Lords, and Lycanian too apparently.
Sadness and sorrow shone in the Doctors eyes, hurt deep as Time itself and they knew that it was the truth and the story would be hard to hear. They let him gather his strength, let him take the time to collect himself and tell his story in his own pace.
_ I told you about the marvels of Galiffrey, the mountains, the red grass covered by snow. I explained a little about the Academy and the Ritual of Gallifreyan who were chosen to become Time Lords. How at age 8 we were to confront the Dimensional Schism, which displayed the very nature of the Vortex.
The Schism resided in our biggest forest of silver trees, the Council of the Time built a structure, a temple around it, but another species lived there, grew and evolved near the Schism before we used it for ourselves. They let us. They could have stop us, but that was not in their nature to do so. They always were fatalists, despite their own power over Time.
_' What do you mean, Doctor?'
_ We, Time Lords, acquired our powers over Time, Lycanian were born into it. They were, are, the Children of the Dimensional Schism. And they are the reason I betrayed my people, the very reason I put Gallifrey in the Time Lock and condemned them to die.
Jack remembered the Master alluding to that fact but...
_ Why?
The captains voice was rasped, anguish.
_ Because of the War with the Daleks. The Council ordered more Timeships to be created. When a young Time Lord survived the Schism sight, sane, he was bound to a baby Lycanian, a newborn, no question asked, no refusal accepted either.
Tardis was the name of my Lycanian mate. I couldn't let their arrogance, their folly to continue to slay our world, our mates. I warned their Elders, and they send all their young away through time and space, by the Schism, all the newborn and unmated young ones. So their species could live, the power of the Vortex living in their blood.
Werewolves on Earth are their descendants, or part of their bloodlines. The awakening of their heritage killed them and destroyed their sanity. No Lycanian has lived in a very long time. You're lucky, Jack. Ianto will live, love and protect you for the rest of your life and beyond.
_ What do you mean? He's immortal like me?
_ No, not like you, more like me. He will regenerate if death is too close, but unlike me he can come back, deny death, because he will never abandon you. What bothers me is how this happened? And I don't mean that I need details of the mating bond. By the way, it's a lovely mating bite above your heart. Golden mark. The mark of the higher ranking Lycanians, the Masters of Time.
The Doctor chuckled.
_ Only you Jack could bind the most powerful being. So how Ianto's DNA can match a full Lycanian's?
They all tried to digest the revelation of the Time Lord, tried to understand what could have caused such changes in the Welshman's DNA.
_'The nanites! Owen swore they were some restorative nanites that healed my body to its fullest. They may have altered my DNA to its fullest potential too.'
_ And Jack's connection to the Vortex, or the Rift, may have activated it. Good thinking, kiddo.
_'Jack is not wrong by the way Doctor. His the response of the Vortex to the ripplings of Time caused by your people and the Time Agency. He's an anchor for Reality. Being a fixed point of Time allowed all the Time to flow through him, he acts as a buffer to disturbances, and he is Mine.'
_ See, Jack, he's really powerful, he can see where I am blind. And congratulations for your litter. In nine months you will have four puppies to take care of.
_ I'm really pregnant then?
Distress was clear in Jack's voice.
_'It's a marvelous gift, beloved. They will never replace our lost ones, not even Steven, but they are life the continuation of Time. I know that Alice will never forgive what happened, I was not awaken yet and couldn't help you. You had no other solution, Jack. You did what you had to.
You sacrifice yourself again and again for the greater good.. Let me take care of you, Cariad, I know your heart, there is nothing to pardon. I will bring you wherever and whenever you want, save the risk of Paradoxes.
We may take a thousand years vacation if you like before coming here again, we have time for you to heal before taking our sentry again. Sleep Jack, my beautiful mate, Martha and the Doctor will be there when you wake up. I will take care of you, like always. And for the rest of our Eternity.'