A/N Just to be clear, I'm not dumping the flashbacks. I love them just as much as you do. It's my only way of writing cute, caring Jack after all. Now, to answer questions.

'This reality' is the show. Everything that happened in season one is canon. The Gwen thing, though, is more of a personal thing. I really believe she and Jack had done... stuff... together. Even if I hate the idea.

The title... Well, it was supposed to be in the fic. Someone was telling someone about something (I know, so informative!) but in the end I decided to put it as a title because of the way it sounded. If you take only the meaning of the sentence it sounds absurd (listening to stars, hearing them scream) just like everything that is happening in the story. One big paradox. Now the reason stars are screaming... this is something I'll answer. Eventually.

Best And Worst

It had become their little tradition. Every Tuesday Jack would walk Ianto home, stay awkwardly in front of the door no matter how many times the Welshman urged him to step inside and wait for his friend to change into something more comfortable so they could go out. The place wasn't part of the tradition, it always varied. So did the time- with lives like theirs they couldn't even dream of setting up an hour for their weekly going-outs.

Still it was the only stable thing in Ianto's life, which was saying a lot, right now. And he loved every second of it.

"I'm going to get us something to drink. You want something?" Jack yelled over the loud music, pointing at the bar on the other side of the club.

Ianto shook his head with a smile and turned toward the girl he was dancing with. It wasn't like he didn't want anything to drink, or even didn't need the excuse to leave his dance partner that going with Jack would provide. But this was their third time coming to this club and the Welshman knew perfectly well that Jack won't be returning any time soon. Not with that new bartender that looked like his face would split in two when the immortal neared him.

But that was okay because they were friends now, they spent time together and everything was okay. He smiled at the brunette pressing closer to him and leaning forward, no doubt to ask him if he wanted them to go somewhere quieter when something cold pressed against his neck and he jumped.

"Have a little bit more fun, Ianto," Jack whispered from behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist and dragging him just slightly away from the grabbing female. "Sorry, sweetheart, but he is mine."

If there had been a competition 'Who would be more surprised by those words' Ianto and the girl would be definitely in a tie. But while she gasped, eyes widening, then narrowing and quickly walking away from them, something sounding suspiciously like "Bloody faggots," leaving her mouth when she neared her friends, Ianto just stood there.

When she was out of earshot he grabbed one of the beers Jack held in his hands and then tugged at them lightly. Instead of following his silent request, the immortal tightened his hold and propped his chin on the other's shoulder.

"Jack," he warned icily, but it was a half-hearted attempt. He liked the pressure, the warmth. It bought memories of being held and loved but it also arose feelings within him that he didn't want to have or even admit of having.

"No can do, lover-boy. Didn't you hear what I said? You are mine tonight."

The breath was tickling his neck but he managed that little control over his body that prevented him from shivering. Still, as he spoke a stutter could be found, laying deeply within his words, "Don't I get a saying? And I thought I told you..."

"Yeah, not interesting. I heard you the first time. You just seemed like you needed a little help, that's all."

Jack chuckled and let him go, but not before planting a chaste kiss on his cheek.

And god help him, but Ianto was so, so interested. Which of course didn't mean he wasn't the same prideful and clear-headed person he had always been. Or at least he told himself that. He took a step forward, putting some needed distance between them, before he turned around.

"Thank you. But what about the bartender?"

The immortal took a swig of his beer. "It's you-and-me night, I can keep it in my pants."

This was by far the most ridiculous thing that Ianto had ever heard coming from the other's mouth and he made it clear by snorting and giving the other a look that after years of usage he had named his 'Really, Jack, Really?' look. To his credit, the immortal endured exactly one minute before he broke down and laughed, taking out a piece of paper and waving it in front of the other's eyes.

"Yeah, okay. Tom gets off in four hours so I thought I could find something to occupy my mind."

Ianto should have felt offended, that he was a second option even on the night that was reserved only for them but he didn't. This was Jack. Not his one, but close enough. And Ianto was starting to get a little too comfortable in accepting that fact.

"Now, will the hero get a dance from his lovely heroine?"

Jack wiggled his eyebrows and stepped forward, not yet suffocating the other with his presence but... just being there. He had always been like that. His presence was that big something, larger than life thing you couldn't ignore. Briefly, Ianto wondered if it was meant to be intimidating or seductive before he realized with a snort it was neither. It was bloody hilarious. But that could have been the beer talking.

"I thought we agreed to never use words like this to describe me," he teased, even as he shortened the distance between them.

Jack's only response was an arched eyebrow but he didn't comment on it. Which, in retrospect, should have been his first clue. Honestly, Jack ignoring a chance to make innuendoes and tease was like... Jack not flirting for a day. Which. Yeah.

The Welshman should have been more careful, he should have just stopped and tried to think what had went wrong. Instead he was swept in Jack's embrace and they were moving slowly, refusing to submit to the rhythm the bar was forcing onto the other couples and creating their own. Jack was whispering something in his ear and chuckling and Ianto knew he had to laugh so he did. Loud, clear and way too happy for a person who was just having fun with a friend on a Tuesday for the seventh weeks now in a row.

Maybe because the man enjoying himself with a friend was gone. On its place was that sad little old man who had lost his lover so long ago. Who had never forgotten about him and now, magically, he was getting a single night with him again.

And Ianto was going to indulge him with that illusion because that man was slowly dying. That man couldn't forget his old lover, he loved him so much and so deeply that when the memory of him started to diminish so did he.

It took him half a day to realize that Jack had spent the rest of his night with him, Tom the bartender nothing but a piece of paper in his pocket.

It took him even more to realize his slip that night. Oh.

"So, let me get this straight," Ianto whispered, leg bouncing nervously, not yet a tic but going there. He didn't know whether to laugh at the man sitting next to him on his sofa like a child who had misbehaved and was now awaiting punishment or to hit him, as hard as he could, throw him out of his apartment then roll into a ball and cry his eyes out. Really, he was on the verge of doing both.

"Torchwood is an organization that fights with aliens and you are the head of the one in Cardiff. The thing that just attacked us was an alien and this is not the first time we meet something like this but I didn't remember because you drugged me. And you would have continued doing this thing if my memories haven't been returned and I have developed some sort of immunity against the drug."

His voice was low and even, not one emotion sipping from it, eyes cold. The only thing that was showing he wasn't a marble statue was his bouncing leg. Which, strangely enough, seemed to do nothing to ease Jack's nerves.

They stood like that a few minutes, the only sound between them the drumming of Ianto's fingers.

"I'm sorry," Jack finally whispered, lifting his head. The dejected look on his face was almost enough to make the other forgive him.

So the Welshman dignified him with an answer.

"And this is just grazing the surface. You said you are from the future, you can't die and you are far older than you look!"

"Ianto..." Jack cut in with a faint voice and the other let him. But when he was given the word he did nothing but stay there, head bent down again and hands curled around the back of his neck.

"Yes, Jack?" Ianto urged him when he made no attempt to apologize or justify his decision to hide those things from his lover. "Now it's the time for you to defend yourself."

"I can't do that!" Jack's voice was so loud that Ianto jumped and then froze again as shining blue eyes bore into his. The captain laid a hand on his thigh, just warm pressure but it felt so oddly familiar and nice that the other bit his lips to keep from whimpering. "I'm sorry that I had to lie to you, that I had to drug you, that you had to find out this way. But I'm not sorry that I came to you and didn't say 'Hello, My name is Jack, I'm from the 51 century, I time-traveled with an alien and now I'm stuck here. Wanna shag?' I'm not sorry that I fell for you."

The silence continued centuries and with every moment that passed Ianto felt more broken, more helpless and more exhausted. He stared at the other's face, so beautiful and alive. Eyes filled with hope. And he could see nothing but that pale skin and those blue lips. The Welshman laid a hand on top of Jack's just so he could feel the warmth again and maybe convince himself that it had been a lie. A hateful nightmare.

'That face would look just like this in 50 years,' the thought hit him square in the chest. Jack couldn't die. Years later he wouldn't remember him let alone this conversation. He was just an entertainment along the road... a blip in time.

Biting his lips to keep himself from crying, Ianto knocked off the hand in his lap and stood up. "You need to go, Jack."

He didn't know what was worse. The pain and horror that filled the other man's eyes or the quiet resignation that followed. Everything hurt so much and it was so easy to just let the numbness take over him yet he couldn't. Not when the love of his life, because Jack was that, no matter what, stared at him like he was devouring every detail. Like he was afraid this would be the last time they...

In one of those moment in which logic had left the building, the Welshman dragged Jack in a tight embrace.

"We are not breaking up, Jack. I just need to sort this mess first. Please."

"Everything you want. Everything." The words were muffled from the way Jack was pressing his face in the other's neck as if wanting to crawl under his skin. "Just know that I l..."

"You know where to find me," Ianto stopped him in a whisper. He didn't want to hear those words right now. When they were to exchange them it would be because they both felt happy beyond reason, not to stop one of them from leaving. He would never forgive himself for that.

Reluctantly, his lover pulled away. He stood still, looking sheepish, for a few moments and left. But not before dragging his chapped lips over Ianto's tender cheek.