XI. Time brings all things to pass. ~Aeschylus

They materialized in the open area of the Hub next to the water tower. Ianto felt that now familiar twist in his gut, but he had taken another pill earlier and did not need to fold over and let his stomach unload its contents. He did close his eyes and take several deep breaths to settle himself; as exciting as it had seemed at first, time travel was still not a particularly pleasant sensation.

Opening his eyes, Ianto found Gwen and Owen staring at him from the sofa. Gwen was red-eyed and sniffling, and Owen had his arm around her shoulders as if he had been comforting her. Ianto felt his stomach twist into knots once more, this time with panic as fear rushed through his veins. He gagged as he rushed toward the medical bay, the thought of losing Jack without saying goodbye almost too much to bear. Stopping at the top of the stairs, he turned back toward Gwen and Owen when he saw Tosh sitting by Jack's bed with her head bowed.

"No," he whispered. "He can't be…tell me he's not…" He looked to Owen, not caring what the doctor saw in his face in that devastating moment.

"He's still alive, mate," Owen said softly. "But we had a scare not long ago. And unless you found the miracle cure, he doesn't have long. It's been hours since you left, and I've done all I could, but the infection has spread and his organs are shutting down. I'm sorry, Ianto."

Gwen was watching him with bright eyes, as if she was holding back tears only for his sake. Ianto shook his head, let it fall to his chest, and heard her choke back a sob as she realized the truth without confirmation. He felt Tahlia's hand on his shoulder and reached up to grasp it tightly. "There is no cure," he told the others, letting his eyes slip closed. "Parker Douglas is dead."

"Go see Jack," said Owen. He didn't ask any questions, but stood and nodded his acknowledgement. "I think he's only holding on for you." Gwen choked back another sob, and even Owen's voice was rough with emotion. Ianto turned and hurried down the stairs alone, leaving Tahlia to explain to them what had happened in the future.

Tosh was sitting with Jack, holding his hand and smiling as she talked quietly. His eyes were closed and he was wearing an oxygen mask; he looked far worse than when Ianto had left. When she heard Ianto behind her, Tosh leaned forward and whispered something to Jack, kissed him on the cheek, and left his side. Ianto watched as she came toward him, the unasked question clear on her face, his heart breaking for the answer he had to give once more.

He shook his head; she sighed sadly in return.

"I'm so sorry, Ianto," she whispered, kissing his cheek as she had just kissed Jack. "I know you tried."

He couldn't talk; the words were stuck in his throat, a hard lump threatening to choke him. He glanced down into sympathetic eyes, letting her see his pain for one brief moment; he knew he'd break down if he didn't pull it back in again and bury it deep for them all.

"Thank you," he murmured, his voice hoarse. He cleared his throat. "Thank you for all you've done, for how hard you've tried, and for staying with him."

A warm hand cupped his face, as if searching for the tears he would not let fall, not then, not yet. "Of course," said Tosh. "I'd do anything for him, for both of you. I'm sorry I couldn't help more."

Her voice broke, and Ianto kissed her forehead as he enveloped her in a hug; if he was squeezing her a bit more tightly than he normally would have, he told himself it was for her sake and not for his. They stood holding one another, silent and still, before Tosh squeezed him back and stepped away, wiping her eyes. She left the medical bay with one last glance at Jack, leaving Ianto alone with the man he had tried so hard to save but knew he would lose despite of all their efforts.

Ianto was not sure how long they had been gone, though it could not have been that long. The hours had taken their toll on Jack, for he looked more dead than alive. It was hard to believe that he wasn't going to wake up in perfect health with the familiar startling gasp at any moment. Ianto had seen Jack die, watched over his pale corpse, held him as life rushed through his cold body. Yet this was so different, so much harder, because this time, when Jack died, he wouldn't come back. Ianto knew that now, not only from what he had learned in the future, but from looking at Jack.

Jack was leaving him.

Ianto almost turned away, a desperate desire to run flooding through him. He forced himself to move forward, to take Tosh's place at Jack's side, because he would not abandon Jack at the one time he needed someone more than any other—the last time. Ianto felt as if he might shatter at any moment, but he would stay by Jack's side until the end, no matter how hard it was, and only then would he fall apart. Alone, when Jack was gone.

Jack seemed to sense Ianto's presence. He began to stir, and Ianto took his hand, hoping and praying that he would wake one more time. God, there was so much he wanted to say. Where would he start? How could he stop? What if Jack didn't wake up? Why hadn't he said it all before?

There was the slightest change in pressure against his fingers, and Ianto glanced down to find Jack watching him through exhausted, half-open eyes. Yet he still smiled, and Ianto could only hope that Jack was smiling because he was there. He ran a gentle hand over Jack's face as Jack reached up to take off the oxygen mask that covered his mouth.

"Hey." Jack's voice was so weak that Ianto almost broke down and cried. That voice, that accent, had never sounded so tired and broken before—so final.

"Hey," said Ianto, trying for a brave smile even though he knew Jack would see right through it.

"No luck, then?" asked Jack. Of course he could cut right to the details. Ianto had only his honesty left to offer; he shook his head, answer enough until he could speak.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, and he hated that his voice cracked, because he wanted to stay strong for Jack, for this amazing man who was dying after living far longer than anyone ever should. Ianto took a deep breath to support his shaky voice. "We tried. We found Douglas, and we talked to him, but it was exactly as we suspected—he got everything from the future and then came back in time to kill you. He said there's no cure."

"And Parker?" asked Jack. Ianto wanted to lie, wanted to spare Jack the pain, but again, he knew Jack would see right through him and would want the truth.

"He's dead."

Jack's face shifted in a way only Ianto could understand, and he let his head fall as he shook it, answering the unasked question but unable to meet Jack's eyes. "No, I didn't kill him. Would have liked to, but I didn't. I know that's not what you would have wanted." He didn't tell Jack what had really happened with John Hart. Jack didn't need to know the details; it would only make his passing that much harder.

The man lying before him seemed to accept Ianto's answer and sighed, letting his eyes close. He was quiet for so long that Ianto glanced up at the monitors and frowned, but Jack was still there, sleeping or unconscious once more. Ianto didn't know how long it was before Jack spoke. This time he didn't open his eyes.

"Ianto Jones," he whispered. "This was not supposed to happen this way, you know."

Ianto let his face twist with emotion, knowing that Jack wouldn't see his pain. "I know," he managed to reply, clearing his throat to hold back the sobs he was trying so hard to keep inside.

"I always thought I would be the one to lose you, to hold you in my arms when you died. I accepted it. It's the price I pay for the life I live." Jack opened his eyes, and there were tears there that broke Ianto's heart into pieces all over again. He wasn't sure how many times he'd be able to survive it, this constant battering of his deepest feelings and emotions. "It's the risk I take for daring to love."

Ianto glanced away to compose himself, wiping his own eyes and squeezing Jack's hand before turning back. "I thought I'd go the same way," he murmured. He had accepted it as well, just as Jack had. It was the price they paid for Torchwood, and for each other. "I only hoped that it wouldn't hurt you too badly, that you would move on quickly."

"I don't want this for you," said Jack. "I would give anything to take this for you. I know how much it hurts."

"I know," said Ianto, meeting the other man's eyes with a sad smile. "I know you do. But you've lost enough, Jack. Maybe it's meant to be this way."

Jack frowned as tears fell from his eyes, and he coughed, sounding more like a half-sob, half-laugh. He shook his head in obvious frustration. "I wish I had more time. So many years, and right now all I want is more time to be with you."

Ianto let his chest shake with silent tears at the realization that Jack wanted to stay with him when Ianto would give almost anything for that to happen; it was all he wanted at that moment, had wanted for months. He lowered his head again so that the other man couldn't see his anguish, fingers curling around Jack's hand, held tight in front of his chest. "I'm just glad we had the time we did." He clung to the sentiment although he hated it; their time together was too short, just like his time with Lisa. It was not fair, this shouldn't be happening—not like this. Not again.

"That sounds like an old greeting card," Jack murmured, and Ianto looked up, laughing on a sob he couldn't hold back.

"It's true, though. I am. And Jack, I'll…I'll be all right." He didn't believe it, not for a second, but he had to say it, because he knew Jack was thinking about it. About Ianto, and how he would bear another loss after his family, after London, after Lisa.

"I wish I could be there for you," said Jack. Ianto could feel Jack's sorrow and anger, that this time he would not be there to hold Ianto, to pick him up and put him back together. He wasn't sure anyone could, this time. Losing Jack would surely break him, in spite of what he'd said about being all right. It was too much after a lifetime of heartbreak.

"You were," Ianto said, brushing his free hand across Jack's face once more. "You were there for me, every time I needed you. And now I'm here for you."

"I don't want to leave you." His voice was getting weaker, and Ianto moved closer to be able to hear him.

"I don't want you to leave," he replied, forcing another smile. "But you've lived a long, full, amazing life, Jack. I don't want to keep you here, either. Not when you're in so much pain."

Jack's eyes closed once more, as if Ianto's words had somehow released him. Ianto could only imagine the man's inner conflict between his desire to stay and his longing to move on after so many years of living with the burden of immortality. He heard Jack take a long shuddering breath; it sent shivers of fear through him, knowing the end was near.

"Will you stay with me?" asked Jack, and Ianto nodded through his tears, falling freely now to land on Jack's chest.

"I always do," he whispered.

"I won't come back this time," said Jack. He was fading quickly, too quickly. Ianto leaned forward, taking both of Jack's hands now and holding them tight against him as he pressed a kiss to Jack's dry lips.

"And I will miss that, Jack," he said, letting his forehead lay gently against Jack's. He closed his eyes and breathed with Jack, speaking softly through his tears. "I will miss you flailing back to life, and your accent and that coat and your stories and the way you…" Ianto trailed off as the silence in the room enveloped him; the monitors had gone flat.

"I will miss you, Jack Harkness," he whispered, voice breaking.

There was no answer. Jack was gone.

Author's Note

He is. I did.

Have a tissue. And a hug.

(And many, many thanks to the lovely Tamaar for the beta job, as always!)