Ianto doesn't realize he is slipping to the floor until he sees Jack's frantic face. He falls with a muted thud, and Jack follows after, cradling him. He looks stricken.

Of all the things to be taken down by, it had to be a virus, he thought.

"-gotta be something! There's gotta be an antidote!" Jack is frantic and he brushes his thumb over the cut on Ianto's cheek. It stings dully.

Ianto has always been one for introspection and this time, so close to his death, with the man he loves crying over him-yes, Jack Harkness is crying-he is no different. Even as the virus chews through him, like he's a rag doll, he still can't help but think Jack's face is one of the most beautiful things he has ever seen on Earth. His pheromones are strengthened by the sweat of his skin and all Ianto wants to do is hold him in his arms and drink in his scent. Unfortunately, he is too weak for that.

"No! No, no, no, no, no. No! Ianto. No." - "It's all my fault."

It is Jack's fault, because of Jack's arrogance, his desire to be a hero in Ianto's eyes. He dragged Ianto along and now, because of him, Ianto won't live to see the man another day. He cut his life short.

Ianto doesn't care. He would follow Jack to the end of the Universe. He would trade all of his years to spend his last moments with Jack Harkness. All of his fears are back; they swirl around his brain with his infected blood, they whisper that Jack will forget him, will move on, will never remember what precious few moments Ianto shared with him. Ianto shudders, because the thought is too horrible to think.

He loves him, loves him desperately, enough to take anything for him, enough to say anything to keep him content, to ease his guilt and pain.

So he lies.

"No it's not..."

His throat hurts.

The immortal shushes him, voice tripping over his sobs.

"Don't speak, save your breath." His eyes are full of visceral passion. Ianto loves him, he has to tell him. He can't leave Jack believing that Ianto didn't love him.

"I love you, I..."

"Don't."

Ianto is breaking now. Jack doesn't love him back. Or is he telling him not to speak? He is confused and hurt. His eyes close. All he wants to do is sleep.

But it's all right. He can live with that. As long as he has Jack, it's perfectly fine that Jack doesn't love him.

"Ianto. Ianto. Ianto, stay with me, Ianto, stay with me, please. Stay with me, stay with me, please, please."

He would, but his body is failing him. Jack's face is blurred and darkness is creeping into his vision. His body feels like a giant sore, all bruised and weak and open.

"Hey, it was...good, yeah?" Ianto won't say he loves him again. He doesn't want Jack to flee.

"Yeah."

"Don't forget me."

He can feel Jack's tears on his neck.

"Never could," he says back. Ianto wants to run his fingers through Jack's hair so badly, but he can't move.

"A thousand years time, you won't remember me." But that is a bluff.

Jack Harkness killed him, and Jack Harkness never forgets who he kills. This provides him with a small measure of comfort.

The other man breathes shakily.

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

Ianto doesn't have the will to open his eyes again. He can hear Jack begging him not to leave, but he does.

It hits him, then, that Jack loves him. Because if he didn't, he wouldn't be losing consciousness in his arms.

As the virus destroys the last of his senses, he can only pray he finds Jack on the other side.

His last thought is that he can feel tear tracks on his face.