Jack Harkness sat alone at a small table in an inn on a planet in a galaxy far from earth. In front of him sat a glass, a bottle of local alcohol and steel lock box. It wasn't very big, 2 feet by 2 feet by 1 foot. It was dented and blackened like it had been through some rough times, like its owner. It was the only thing Jack had taken when he had fled earth, dug from the rubble of the hub after it had been destroyed in an explosion. It contained photographs and little mementoes from the hundred plus years he had spent there.

Many times in the months following his departure, he had though to toss it away or destroy it, but he never had, instead he hauled it with him as he tried to flee the pain, to forget all that he had lost. Now, in a place that reminded him of Cardiff, Wales, he realized he didn't want to forget, he wanted to remember, everything, the good, the bad, the happy times, and the sad ones too.

With trembling hands, Jack unfastened the latch and raised the lid. The first item he saw was a photograph of the whole team, taken a couple months before Tosh and Owen had died. Jack remembered that day, it had been quiet for once and Owen had been board, so he started hamming it up. In the picture, the five of them were laughing at something Owen had said. Jack laid it aside and took out a couple more, one of Tosh and one of Owen. He had taken them when they didn't know and had caught them at candid moments. The one of Tosh showed her at her computer, hair up, glasses perched on her nose, a look of concentration on her face. The one of Owen showed him with his feet up on his desk, reading a porn magazine, a grin spread across his face. Jack caressed each one with his finger.

"I miss you guys." he whispered as he set them aside.

He took out one of Gwen and smiled. If things had been different, he could have loved her, but he knew he had made the right decision. He set that picture down and lifted out a dozen more, all of Ianto. Ianto Jones, smart, strong, brave, and loyal to the end, the quiet Welshman had stolen his heart. Jack looked at each picture, remembering when each one was taken. He studied one taken just a few days before Ianto had died. In it, he was standing by his bedroom window, wearing nothing but Jack's blue shirt, the early morning sunlight that filtered through the curtain bathed him in a golden glow. He had a smile on his face and he looked so happy. Jack's eyes began to tear and he reached up to wipe them away.

Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happen.

The thought popped unbidden into his mind and his mouth curled up in a smile. He had been blessed to know these incredible people, they had touched his life and made it better and he had been a fool to try and forget them. Well, the forgetting was over, from now on he would do his best to honor their memories. He poured a glass of the alcohol and raised it salute.

"To Torchwood Three, the best of the best." he said as he drank it down.

Jack put all the pictures back in the box and closed the lid. By remembering those he had lost instead of forgetting them he eased the pain and maybe, made himself a little stronger.