Reviews are lovely.
Every year, on the eve of Ianto's death, Jack makes his way to the cemetery where he was buried.
Most times, he brings a single rose, and places it atop the headstone. This time, his knees give out and he collapses against it.
He doesn't cry much anymore, but the numbers, so clearly etched in front of him reduce him to tears. Jack slowly reaches up to touch them, but his hands feel numb.
His watch lights up, and it's time. 12:01 am. September 7.
Jack reaches into his coat, and pulls out a gun. He presses it to his temple, and fires.
The darkness surrounds him, and he can hear Ianto's voice. Louder and clearer than anywhere else.
"You're right on time." Ianto tells him, as Jack starts to fade back to reality.
Another bullet.
He's there. In the darkness, wrapped in Ianto's arms, and somehow, in a tangle of shadows, and hands, their lips meet, and they're kissing like teenagers.
"Never just a blip in time," he whispers, gasping for air on the other side.
By now, Ianto is used to this. They never have long.
Back in the cemetery, Jack shoots himself again.
He fires into his head until all the bullets are gone.