Disclaimer- I don't own anything
I guess this is a little AU since it discounts COE. Inspired by the monologue in Dead Line and my bad mood.
Ianto sat in the large armchair staring out the window looking at anything and nothing. He didn't know how long he had been sitting there, only that it had been quite some time. He was tired though he hadn't done anything all day, but he knew sleep would not help his situation.
His flat was cold, colder than it was ever before. The temperature was probably the same that it always was, but it was definitely colder and Ianto knew it would probably never feel warm again. He rubbed his worn and calloused hands over his arms to warm them, but it was no use.
It's better this way. Yes, it was much better this way. Imagine going through this in thirty years time when he wouldn't be able to cope on his own, and wouldn't be able to help himself like he could now. Yes, it was definitely better this way when he was better prepared. Then again, in thrity years time, there would have been another thirty years. Another thirty years of memories, of happiness, of love. There would be another thirty years of warmth and energy. Another thirty years of possibilities and excitement, but then again that would mean another thirty years of sorrow, anger and jealously.
It was better to know that he wasn't holding him back. It was better that at least he could live his life to the fullest and if one of them was, Ianto was happy. It was better that he didn't have to live with the guilt of forcing a promise to be kept that he knew right well from the beginning would be impossible. It would be selfish of him to demand that promises and vows to be kept after all this time. He knew that, he understood that, but why did it still hurt?
Ianto looked at his worn, calloused hands before running them through his graying hair. It wasn't gray yet, but there were specs poking through. He had no wrinkles or anything, but it was clear that he eventually he would have them. To anyone else he was doing quite well for middle aged. He was still fit and handsome. He was still doing everything he had done before, if just in small quantities. He was still himself, but he knew different. There were signs, though small and normal that he was getting older and being older was not a comfort to one who would never understand the process. No, there were signs, and they were all pointing in the same direction, out the front door.
Still, there were other ways Ianto would have liked for this to be done. Yeah, much better ways. He glanced over his shoulder to the bedroom door and sighed. There was nothing in the world like waking up in the morning to a cold bed, half made. There was nothing in the world like opening up the closet door to find empty spaces. There was nothing in the would like searching frantically for a note, knowing there wouldn't be one. There didn't need to be one, Ianto decided, he already knew everything a note could possibly say. There was no reason to inconvenience him as he quietly made his exit from Ianto's life. No note was needed, so none was left and that suited him just fine. Fine, he was always fine. Just fine.
While searching for this note that he knew he wouldn't find, Ianto did notice other items he would never find. A few of the pictures around the flat were missing, as was one of his ties. He didn't need to know why they were missing, he understood. He approved of their disappearance. It was a good thing. Ianto sighed, he needed them and he should have them. If that's what he needed, Ianto was happy that they were gone. And if being gone made him happy, Ianto was happy for him.
Ianto rose from his chair and turned his back to the window, facing the rest of the flat. He wouldn't call it home anymore. The missing pictures and the missing tie and the missing... yes the things that were missing made it home, and now it was just a cold space that he lived in and would continue to live in. Yes, he reminded himself, it was better this way.
It wasn't a surprise, not really. Ianto took pride in knowing everything and he knew this would happen. When he looked into his eyes he knew something like this was being debated in his mind. Maybe Ianto was hoping that it would happen in thirty years time. No. No this was better.
Ianto walked into the bedroom and shut the door behind him. He stood there for a moment, or two, or an hour before sinking down against it, holding his knees against his chest.
...Jack was gone...
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It's better this way.
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No
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No, nothing was worse than this.
Wrote this out of no where. Tell me what you think - TOL