Chapter 1

Jack was driving the car UNIT had given him on a bumpy country road. It was that time of the day when the sunlight gives a golden glow to everything. A soft breeze was making the trees lining the road sway gently. The air was fragrant and aside from the sound of the car zooming by, everything was quiet and peaceful. The driver, however, was completely unaware of the beauty surrounding him. His face was impassive and an outside observer couldn't have helped but wonder if the man was actually human or stone.

The gravel crunched under the tires as the car finally came to a stop in front an immense Victorian area house. Before he had time to step outside his car, a butler dressed in black came to open the door for him. Jack stepped out and looked around. The place hadn't changed in years. It was as if this place was also a fixed point in time. Then again, that had been his doing. He had wanted to keep the memories of his deceased wife alive and had purchased the mansion as soon as she had passed. Luckily, he hadn't had to fight for it with his sons as they had both died during the war. Now, he completely changed the staff every ten years, making sure to hire people from outside the country. It was empty most of the time but he didn't care. It was his one place of refuge and he wanted it to be ready whenever he needed asylum from reality. The last time he had been here had been when he had inherited of Torchwood. He remembered the snowstorm he had had to brave to make his way here. It would have been foolish for anyone else to drive in those conditions. Jack however, had had nothing to lose.

Finally coming back to reality, he stepped away from the car and entered the house. Although all the windows were open the woodwork was dark and kept the house cool and dark. He avoided looking at the paintings of long gone people and stared at the ceiling. The chandeliers were sparkling and not a moth of dust could be seen. Everything looked pristine. Unchanged. Just like him.

His mind miles away, he started when he heard the sound of someone clearing their throat. He looked down to see the staff lined up, waiting for his orders. He had never met any of them and he noticed that some of the girls we swooning over him. He would probably have enjoyed it at a different time but now, he was slightly annoyed by it. His tone was harsher then he had wanted it to be.

"I will go to my quarters. I am to be left alone. I want my meals left in front of my door. I will ring if I need anything. I am not to be disturbed under any circumstance."

He didn't see the staff nod for he walked away before they could even move. He walked briskly through a long corridor pierced with tall windows on one side, feeling his pulse quicken and his head buzzing. He could feel his staff eyes on him and fought to keep his countenance. He finally made a sharp right turn and disappeared from their sight. He stopped a moment to lean on the wall, hands trembling, legs shaking. Then, as if in a dream he walked the last few steps separating him from the dark carved door of his apartments. He barely had the force to push them open. His vision was blurry and he could barely see inside his living quarters when he finally managed to get in. As soon as the doors closed behind him he slid against the warm solid wood and sat on the cool marble floor. He was trembling violently and although he was sweating abundantly, he felt chilled to the bone.

He closed his eyes, finally giving himself the permission to tap in that infinite sadness that plagued him. He had thought that tears would come almost instantly but nothing happened. He could feel the pain and the loss and yet, there was no way to let it out in the open. He had shed a few tears with Gwen earlier that day, but even then, he had restrained himself. He had had to be strong for the two of them. Then there had been his grand-son. He didn't even dare think of his name for the hurt was too great. He had lost everything with that boy. And yet, he had not been able to cry.

"Sir?"

The voice startled him into opening his eyes. He looked up. Wearing a three-piece suit and looking down at him with his pale blue eyes, he was there. Jack jumped to his feet. It was him. Ianto! Jack reached out for him and pulled him close to his chest, hugging him in a tight embrace, burying his head in his lover's neck.

"I knew, I knew it couldn't be true. I knew it, Ianto. It couldn't possibly…"

Jack's voice broke and tears started to escape his shut eyes.

"Sir?"

Upon hearing the man's voice a second time, Jack slowly came to the realization that something just wasn't right. He pushed his partner away, holding him by the shoulders to take a good look at him. He instantly realized his mistake. The man was the correct height and age and in the darkness of the room, his pale eyes had contributed to fool Jack. This was no Ianto. The person was just one of his staff and he looked quite shaken. Jack wiped his cheeks but fresh tears wet them instantly. He could do nothing but stand there and look at the young man.

"Sir, are you alright?"

Jack shook his head, obviously not ok.

"Would you like me to bring you something?"

Impressed by the man's professionalism under the circumstances but unable to speak for fear that he would burst into uncontrollable sobs, he shook his head again. The other man, unsure of what to do, finally took his leave after a quick bow, leaving Jack standing alone in his apartments.

Suddenly, the room was spinning the floor became as soft as quicksand. Jack stumbled forward and barely made it on time to the bathroom where he was violently sick in the sink. His body racked by tremors, he held on to the cool marble, his knuckled whitened by the effort. When he was finally done, he wiped his chin with the back of his hand, coughing, and ran the water. Then, he slowly sat down, letting his head lean back against the wooden cabinet. He felt weak and helpless. Tears started running along his temples and down to his neck. The terrible ball of pain he had been carrying inside his chest for the past few days was starting to unravel.

A sob escaped his lips and the echo of the sound on the wall of the bathroom made him instinctively cover his mouth with his hand. What an ugly sound. The sound of pain and hurt. These walls remembered it too well and had witnessed his misery many years before. Such irony that he should mourn the loss of his lover in the house of his deceased wife.

The thought made him laugh. It was more a croak, really. A sob soon followed and, letting his hand down, Jack cried. He cried the loss of Ianto and the death of his grand-son. He cried for Owen and for Tosh. He even cried for Suzy. He felt the weight of their deaths and he knew they would have been still alive hadn't he walked into their lives. It was unbearable. Slowly, he hugged his knees and rested his head on top of them, each sob wringing more pain from his soul.