Chapter 25

They lounged around in their room for most of the day, indulging in the luxury of a large bed and room service. Although Jack would have been happy to stay in bed and not let Ianto leave for more time than it took to visit the bathroom, Ianto convinced him that it would be nice to go out for something to eat. By early evening they were strolling along the banks of the Tiber heading in the direction of the Castel Sant'Angelo.

Jack was trying his best to persuade Ianto that it would be fun to explore inside the castle after closing time using his wrist strap, but Ianto wasn't convinced that Jack was capable of restricting himself to using the teleport function.

"Can you guarantee it would be safe? Knowing my luck we'd end up being thrown to the lions or burnt at the stake as heretics."

"Whatever happened to your sense of adventure?"

"Do I really have to remind you that only one of us wouldn't stay dead?"

"Ouch." Jack came to a halt, the ugly truth of Ianto's throwaway line hitting him in the gut, causing his face to crumple.

"Don't you dare start sulking – come on, let's keep walking." Ianto crooked his elbow, inviting Jack to walk arm in arm.

Jack frowned, wondering if the young Welshman on his arm had forgotten that his Ianto was long dead. However, he could sense by the way Ianto walked extra close and held on tightly that he could tell what was on Jack's mind.

They walked in silence as they took the turning onto the Ponte Sant'Angelo. Lights were reflecting in the waters of the River Tiber that rippled lazily as the light breeze ruffled the surface.

"So, I can't tempt you – not even a little jaunt?" Jack nudged Ianto in the ribs as they drew closer to the spiral ramp leading up to the entrance.

"I'm not re-enacting Tosca for anyone, not even you." Ianto rolled his eyes as he caught the mischievous grin on Jack's face.

"Tosca? Never took you for an opera buff. What happened in that one?"

"Tosca is the heroine - she finds her lover's body here, despite being promised that the execution was going to be faked and then she throws herself off the ramparts to her death."

"But you'd know I'd come back – I always do." Jack shrugged as they both looked up at the imposing statue of an avenging angel atop the castle, the city lights glinting off its metallic surface.

"I never trust that – not until I hear you take that first breath," Ianto admitted quietly.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"But now you know that it's true – still here after all." Jack reasoned that his presence should reassure Ianto that he wasn't going to die for good, at least not in Ianto's lifetime.

"Still doesn't mean it won't happen one day, does it?" Ianto pointed out and then paused to take his camera from his pocket so that he could capture the silhouette of the castle against the darkening sky.

"I'm hoping it does," whispered Jack. "But not today."

"What's that?" Ianto asked, having heard Jack mumbling under his breath.

"Nothing." Jack shook his head and took a deep breath. He hadn't wanted to bother Ianto earlier with his worries and misgivings. He'd put it off at the hotel with Ianto snuggled up close to him under the blankets, not wanting to break the spell, and then, when they'd woken up, they'd both been ravenous, and food had been a priority and there was no way he could discuss what was on his mind in the crowded trattoria. Now there was no excuse.

"Jack – what is it? You look like you're chewing a wasp. Spit it out – not literally – well not unless it's a real wasp."

Shaking his head, Jack took hold of Ianto's hand and tugged him across the cobblestones towards the parapet of the bridge; eventually coming to a halt beneath one of Bernini's imposing statues of angels that stood guard over the bridge. It was time he came clean and told Ianto what those dizzy spells and the seizure signified, that it was too late, he'd already changed timelines.

Jack had been trying to convince himself that there was something else at work; after all, apart from suffering the symptoms of a disrupted vortex deep within his body, he'd not been aware of any drastic changes. But then again he wouldn't, would he? Any changes wouldn't manifest themselves yet – they'd occur because of something he'd changed in either Ianto's or his own future – possibly even both of their futures.

"Ianto – what we argued about earlier-"

"I said I was sorry – can't we just let it drop?" Ianto interrupted, not wanting to spoil what had been a good evening by dragging up the row they'd had when they'd got back to their hotel room. "I understand that you can't say anything-"

"You said that I'd implied that you…" Jack swallowed hard and then took a deep breath, thinking of a way of avoiding saying out loud the thought he'd rather never consider. "Put it this way – you were under the impression that I'd basically said, in not so many words, that you don't live long enough to climb the promotional ladder at Torchwood. Is that right?"

"Yes." Ianto huffed, he really didn't want to re-visit that argument. "But-"

"No buts." Jack pinned Ianto to the wall behind him, making it clear that he was not going to back down. "Tell me one thing though - your memory is pretty good isn't it? Never usually lets you down?"

"Yeah … what are you getting at?" Ianto narrowed his eyes and tried to work out what was going on in Jack's head. He was skirting around something important and Ianto knew from experience that he had to be patient and wait for Jack to get to the point.

"It's just that … it's not that I remember differently, it's that the more I think about it the more difficult it is to square saying something like that knowing what I do know." Jack ran a hand through his hair, resisting the urge to grab a handful and pull at it. "It's like I'm literally in two minds. I can replay the scene in my head where I said something that would have led you to believe that … you know … but I can't understand why I would have said it."

"That's bad isn't it?" Ianto frowned. If Jack was beginning to experience some sort of multiple-memory syndrome it couldn't be a good thing.

"Yeah. Seems like it's too late to avoid doing anything to change timelines – it's done. By interacting with you I've already changed my past and your future."

"Shit." Ianto shut his eyes tight and bit his lip hard. "It's all my fault isn't it?"

"No – I should have known better. I should've resisted you, dammit." Jack placed his hands firmly on Ianto's shoulders and gave him a doleful look. "I guess I could blame you for being so damn irresistible."

"Not helping." Ianto opened his eyes and smiled fondly at Jack. "So, what can we do?"

"Nothing we can do now, not without risking making things worse." Jack shook his head slowly. "The trouble is that whatever is going to happen already has for me, so my memories have been overwritten. It's like I've got different versions of the same events multiplying in my mind until I just can't tell what was meant to happen."

"If it was really bad though, wouldn't he - the Doctor- have turned up by now?"

"I don't know. Maybe he still does? Maybe he already has."

"Jack – the night I retconned myself - do you remember what we talked about?"

"You know I can't discuss that with you –"

"Yes, I know that, but can you remember any of it? I assume we discussed the whole time bending dilemma – what do you remember about that?"

"Let me think …" Jack shut his eyes as he tried to recall the late night conversation. Apart from an overwhelming sense of sadness, he could recall no details, it was vague, as if shrouded in a thick, impenetrable mist.

Then through the murkiness of his memories came a fragment of speech, quietly spoken, as if with the last exhalation of breath. It wasn't directly from their discussion, but linked to it somehow. The voice was unmistakably Ianto's:

"Don't forget me… in a thousand years… you won't remember…"

Jack bent double, clutching his chest as a stabbing pain wracked his body. He could feel Ianto's strong hands grasp him around the biceps as he spun him around so that he was propped up against the bridge.

"Hush, it's OK – let it go. You don't need to think about this. Come on."

"Ianto?" Jack sounded uncertain. "Don't leave me."

"I'm not going anywhere, well not just yet. Hey, what's wrong?" Ianto cupped Jack's chin in one hand to get a good look at his face. "You're white as a sheet – that's stealing my look. You get tanned and dashing, I get pale and enigmatic – it's the rule."

"I'll take your word on that." Jack smiled half heartedly, wondering which set of memories bubbling to the fore of his brain were the true ones, as it dawned on him that he'd lived through all of them.

Jack was aware of the stonework of the bridge digging into his back and Ianto's arms on either side of him, holding him firmly in place. Ianto had that look in his face that meant he wasn't going to be easily fobbed off.

"What the hell's going on, Jack? You said that my future has been changed – so what's that done to your memories of what happened in your past?"

"I don't know – it's odd, there are these weird fragments floating around that don't make sense, they're out of context … scenes that don't make sense, others that seem like nightmares come back to visit me … damn."

Jack was frustrated. It was as if he was in possession of at least two sets of memories that ran parallel to one another – but just for a set time period – the time he was on Earth from the early twenty first century until he hitched a lift to get away. After that they merged back to form one single timeline once more – different events having led to the same inexorable need to leave the planet. Whichever path was the true one resulted in the same awful outcome – people died because of him, Torchwood was destroyed, he'd lost Ianto and been forced to make sacrifices that no man should be expected to make and then he'd ran away. The Doctor had turned his back on him once more and everything eventually led to the point in time where he decided to come out of the shadows to be with Ianto again, briefly, before letting him go.

Ianto could see that Jack was crying, silent tears tracking across the paler than normal cheeks, before coalescing as they ran along his jaw to his chin.

"That bad?" Ianto leaned forward to capture an errant tear with the tip of his tongue and then gently kissed the others away from the side of Jack's nose to his lips. His touches so light they almost tickled, making Jack smile sadly.

"Yeah – trust me, Ianto, it's never going to be easy letting you go."

There was nothing Ianto could say to that, so he just leaned forward until their foreheads met. It occurred to him that it was up to him to lighten the mood.

"How about we go sightseeing like you suggested – but no time jumps – Tosh picked up the last one and only agreed not to pursue it further if I bought her a ridiculously expensive pair of boots with heels that should come with a health warning. I've no idea how I'm going to explain that one to her, and I bet she'll have all her systems tuned in to detect anything similar in the city for the rest of the week. Do you think she'll believe me if … I'm rambling again, aren't I?"

Ianto realised that he'd lost Jack's full attention and that he was looking wistful once more, as if reliving pleasant memories.

"Tosh always was brilliant." Jack smiled as fond memories of Tosh surfaced. For him, her crowning achievement had been the brilliant design of a transmitter to relay the killer signal to the creatures that had wanted to steal the Earth's children. She'd always been so modest about it, saying it had been Ianto's idea to sample the children's voices in the first place that had spurred her on to figuring out a way to make it work. "You work well together."

"Yeah – you're right." Ianto agreed. "But that's not going to stop her interrogating me when I get back."

"Boots and a handbag?" Jack suggested.

"That might give me a fighting chance," Ianto conceded.

"Let's leave the sightseeing for tonight." Jack looked over his shoulder at the dark silhouette of the Castel Sant' Angelo and then back at the man in front of him. He was in no doubt which he wanted to spend more of his limited time with. "If it's OK with you I just want to get back to the hotel as soon as possible."

"Of course – tired?" Ianto tilted his head to one side to see if Jack's colour had returned, but the street lights were brighter and it wasn't really possible to detect if he was any less pale.

"No, not at all."

Ianto took note of the spark of lust and something else that glinted in Jack's eyes and held out a hand. Jack smiled broadly as he accepted the invitation and pushed away from the parapet of the bridge and struck out along the cobbled pavement.

If their fates were out of their hands, then there was no point in wasting a single second of the precious time that had been gifted to them.