Sitting there, in the dark night, Jack could see flashes of him.

"I'm Jones. Ianto Jones".

A smile, a dumb joke.

His big beautiful eyes looking at him, full of love.

Their lips meeting for the first time.

Their lips meeting for the last time.

Tears start falling from his eyes. Again. Like always.

His voice whispering in his ear: "I am always gonna be here with you." A lie.

"You won't remember me."

Another lie. He remembers. He will always remember.

A classy suit and a purple shirt, his favourite one.

The taste of perfectly made coffe.

"You are beautiful, Ianto."

His face blushing under fresh white sheets. "Don't make fun of me, Jack." He wasn't.

The sunrise coming in through the window.

Hands touching skin. His warm body. Pure happiness.

"I take it all back, but not him!" Pure pain.

A thousand years. And still.

"Yes I will. I promise, I will."

Jack is keeping that promise.

Ianto is still there, all the time, burning inside.

That special laugh that no one else knew still rings in his ears, cutting like a knife.

His smell still there, reminder of hugs and abandoned clothes.

He had lost so much in his life, he learned how to move on. Most days at least.

But still, he remains, unshakable.

The tea boy who took his heart and never let go, always by his side.

"Do you need anything, sir?"

He wonders if he knew how much he meant to him. He should have told him.

He was his companion, his friend, his lover.

Now he is a wound that never heals.

Too many regrets. He thought they had more time.

"Please don't leave me."

The tears can't stop, not today.

Not the day he died.

Every single year, the same day, for a thousand years, Jack sits here.

"Ianto Jones. 1983 – 2009". That is all that cold, gray stone says.

Everything Ianto was, summed up in a name and two dates. It wasn't enough.

Every year, the same pain. He promised him.

"I love you, Ianto Jones."

A thousand years, Jack is still here. And in a way, Ianto is too.

Always.