Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the Who-verse. That honour belongs to RTD and the mighty and glorious BBC. The only thing I get out of this is a warm fuzzy feeling knowing I am trying to put right what once was wrong.

Author's Note: Thank you to all my faithful readers and reviewers. I'm sorry I was a bit tardy replying to you all - the spirit was willing but the flesh was utterly knackered dealing with 13 four year olds descending on my house. Anyway new chapter, very dark, warnings of adult themes of death apply. And speaking of dark - Waters of Mars OMG!!!

Chapter XVIII

That night Jack remained at the Hub. Donna wasn't expecting him home until the following evening and if he pitched up early it would have only aroused her suspicions that something was wrong. Her instincts tended to be infallible when it came to trouble. Besides he seriously doubted he would have been able to look her in the eye, or kiss her goodnight without breaking down. He needed time, to steel himself for what he now accepted he had to do, before he could face them again. Normally he would phone every night that he was away from home; to say goodnight to Donna, wish Siân sweet dreams, and tell them how much he loved them both. Sometimes, when Rift activity got in the way, he wasn't able to ring. Each time, he felt an aching guilt that he wasn't able to keep his promise to himself, even though he knew it was unavoidable. Tonight though, was the first evening he had deliberately chosen not to ring, unable to face hearing their voices on the other end of the line. It felt like a betrayal.

Now the others had left, their eyes avoiding his, voices hushed, as if they were scared of what he might say or do if one of them drew his attention. Gwen had wanted to stay, citing that he shouldn't be alone. But her motherly concern had felt cloying and he had ordered her home, his voice sharp. He'd tried to ignore the wounded look in her dark eyes, but it struck deep adding another layer to his burden of guilt. Finally alone he had wandered around the Hub. His office, full of photos, only serving to increase his anguish. He paced up and down the metal gantry outside, his footsteps ringing loud in the silence, trying to drown out the voices screaming in his head. Finally, exhausted, he made his way down to the morgue. Standing in front of the bank of drawers, his eyes fixed on a single drawer in particular. For the past seven years he'd avoided this room. The sight of Ianto's lifeless face vanishing as he had closed the drawer had been etched on his consciousness. A memory too painful to recall. Visiting the room, reminding himself that 'he' was lying only inches away, cold and unreachable, had filled him with horror. Now this room seemed to be the only place he could bear to be. It was fitting; to be surrounded by the dead, the people he'd failed. Visible reminders of his abiding weakness; his inability to remain detached. He wished he could join them here, when this task was complete. Join the ranks of the dead. Not remember what he had left behind. Leaning against the bank of drawers he allowed his legs to buckle. He slid down the wall until he sat on the cold damp floor, knees hunched up in front of him, his head resting on Ianto's drawer.

"What am I going to do Yan?" he said out loud to the empty room, his words echoing eerily in the cavernous space. "First you, now them. I'm going to be alone again. Why do I have to lose everyone? It isn't fair, Yan. It isn't fucking fair!" Jack's voice grew louder as he spoke, the final word shouted to the emptiness. Silence.

There were no tears now, there was nothing left. Just a dead hollowness in his chest. Jack looked down at the object in his hands; his Webley revolver. Once always at his side, for the last six years it had been locked away in his office, only retrieved when Torchwood business demanded it. Now he turned it over and over, acknowledging its comforting weight in his hands. He needed the pain to go away. Oblivion. Just for a little while. In a sudden decisive movement he raised it to his temple, cocked the hammer and pulled the trigger.

Jack sat bolt upright taking a deep shuddering breath, the usual pain of resurrection lancing through his body. He became aware of gentle hands holding his arms, steadying him.

"Easy, Cariad," a familiar, beloved voice whispered in his ear. "I've got you." Frantically Jack twisted in the arms that held him until Ianto's smiling face came into view.

"Ianto? Oh God, Yan!" With a groan he pulled Ianto down until their lips met and he kissed him fiercely, convincing himself that this was no mirage. Ianto responded with fervour, opening his mouth to let Jack's tongue battle with his own. Finally, panting for breath, they drew apart, their arms still firmly entwined as if they were afraid to let go. For a full minute they looked at each other in silence, just drinking in the sight of each other.

"How can this be?" Jack said finally, his voice wondering, his fingertips tracing the lines of Ianto's face. "You're dead."

"People keep telling me that," Ianto said with a wry smile, catching Jack's fingers and kissing them. "And yet here I am. Waiting."

"For me?" Jack asked softly, his blue eyes intently gazing into Ianto's.

"Who else?" Ianto affirmed. "I just didn't think you'd be here so soon. I thought you could live forever. I figured I'd be here a few millennia more yet. It must have been a pretty impressive death to finally finish you off..."

"I killed myself. Shot to the head," Jack said frowning. "Doesn't seem that impressive."

"What?" Ianto's expression filled with horror. "Jesus Jack. How could you? Why would you?" For some reason the idea that the indomitable Jack Harkness could be driven to suicide was unthinkable. More than that, it was abhorrent.

"Don't judge me, Ianto" Jack shot back, his voice pained. "How can I expect you to understand. I've lived so long. Seen so much. Sometimes the pain is too much to bear. For a little while I get to forget it all. Blissful oblivion. It's not the first time I've taken my own life..." Jack could hear his voice, cold and detached, deliberately hurtful. This was all wrong. He had imagined a million times what he would do and say if he ever got a second chance with Ianto, and this definitely was not it. Apart from the kiss, he corrected, that had definitely been in there. But this detachment, this rational discussion of his suicide, it was wrong.

"I'm not judging you. I just...I....I didn't know..." Ianto stammered, wounded.

Jack shrugged. "There is no reason you should. It's not something I'm particularly proud of..."

"How many times?" For some reason Ianto needed to know. It was important.

"Eight...no, nine if you include this time." Jack answered, again aware of that horrible feeling of detachment, as if he were telling a stranger, not Ianto. "The first four times were in the beginning, when I was testing the limits of the...gift. When I didn't care if I lived or not. Once was in 1965, after the 456 came the first time. I couldn't get the faces of those twelve children out of my head. I could imagine them screaming every time I closed my eyes. The other three were in the six months after you and Steven died..."

"Steven died?" Ianto interrupted, his face horrified. "Oh God Jack, I'm so sorry. Your grandson. Did the 456 take him?"

"No," Jack said shortly, his voice hard. "I sacrificed him. I used him to defeat the 456. I killed him."

Ianto looked at Jack, open-mouthed in shock.

"But...you wouldn't," he managed, his voice trembling.

"I did. There was no time. It had to be a child. He was the only one. It was a rational decision." Jack averted his face, unwilling to see the censure in Ianto's eyes.

To his surprise he felt a soft kiss on his forehead.

"What was that for?" he muttered. "You must despise me."

"No, Cariad. I love you. You made a decision no one else could make. And you pay for it every single day. You took that burden on yourself to save someone else from carrying it. How can I despise that. It's the bravest thing I've ever known."

"It wasn't brave Ianto. I'd lost you. I'd killed you as sure as if I'd plunged a knife in your heart. Nothing mattered any more. Steven, Alice, the Earth. Nothing."

"So why did you do it? Save the children of Earth. If what you are saying is true, why didn't you just run?"

"Rhiannon. I couldn't let Mica and David be taken. I sent Gwen to protect them but I knew it was only a matter of time before they were taken too. I had to save your family, Yan. I owed them. I owed you."

"Oh, Jack." Ianto pulled Jack towards him his eyes filled with tears, trying to embrace him but Jack struggled against his arms. At his resistance Ianto's face clouded.

"Jack?" he murmured, concerned.

"No!" Jack's voice was vehement as he leapt to his feet, for the first time becoming aware of his surroundings. He appeared to be in Ianto's flat, a place he had visited only a handful of times for stolen moments of passion in a real bed. Everything was as he remembered, right down to the obsessively tidy coffee table; computer magazines neatly stacked, corners squared; and two coasters, welsh slate, symmetrically placed either side.

"This isn't real. You're not real. Look at this," he continued waving his arms around. "All the places I could imagine us to be and I pick here. I could have imagined us together anywhere in the Universe and I choose a poky flat in Cardiff. What does that say about me? About us?"

"It says we were happy here Jack!" Ianto countered hotly as he got to his feet so he could look at Jack face-to-face. "When we were here there was just us. No Torchwood, no Rift, no bloody Doctor. Just you and me together. You're so damn arrogant Jack. Don't you understand. This isn't the place you chose. This is where I chose to wait. All this bloody time and I waited for you. And now you're here and we're like fucking strangers. We should be having the best reunion shag ever witnessed..." He trailed off.

Jack just gaped at him, taken aback by Ianto's vehemence, his strange sense of detachment finally shattered by Ianto's anger. He desperately wanted to take Ianto in his arms, show him how much he loved him and had missed him. But he couldn't. Even if this was just the dream he knew it to be, he couldn't be unfaithful to Donna, not now.

"Yan I..." he began tentatively reaching out to touch Ianto's arm not knowing how to explain, knowing it would only hurt him all the more.

Ianto took a step back, out of reach. "I missed you so much, Cariad. But you're right. This isn't real is it? You aren't here to stay. If you were it wouldn't be like this. It would be wonderful. You killed yourself today, and it wasn't to come here to me. It was to escape something back there. Something so awful you couldn't face it. What was it Jack? Is this about Donna?"

Jack looked at Ianto in surprise for a split second then gave a small anguished smile.

"Of course," he muttered under his breath, "My imagination, you know what I know." Eyes trained on the floor he missed the sudden involuntary slump of Ianto's shoulders.

"I have to leave her," he said simply, "before she remembers about the Doctor. Soon."

"I'm sorry Jack. I know you love her." Ianto said gently.

"Yeah I do. I'm sorry. I know you don't want to hear this. Please understand. After you died I honestly thought I'd never feel anything for anyone again. But she was...well different. I told her about you and she loved me anyway."

"You told her we were married," Ianto commented, his voice catching on the last word as he looked down to the rings on Jack's finger. His and Donna's.

"We should have been," Jack said fiercely. "When I read your letter I realised what a bloody fool I'd been, not telling you."

"Telling me what?" Ianto pushed, willing Jack to speak the words he'd waited so long to hear.

Jack finally looked up into his eyes, his own eyes blazing fire.

"That I love you, that I wanted to marry you. That I miss you every day."

Ianto took a step forward, his eyes shining, his face joyful, so that he could grasp Jack's hand.

"I love you Jack. And what you feel for Donna, believe me I understand. You needed her and I'm grateful you had someone who loves you as much as I do. You have to give her everything she deserves in the time you have left together. I will wait as long as it takes. I promise you." With that he leaned forward to kiss Jack on the lips. Softly, not a kiss of passion, but of promise.

Jack sighed. Once again Ianto was telling him what he needed to hear. Every ounce of his soul wished that this was not just his subconscious, that Ianto was here talking to him, promising him the world. But at least he could take comfort in the knowledge that, just as Ianto had promised in that dream long ago, it seemed he would always be in his heart when he needed him most.

"If it were just leaving Donna I think I could handle it," he said after a moment. For some reason he had to tell Ianto the whole truth, even though he knew he already knew everything there was to know. "I hate it, but if I stay the Doctor says eventually her memories will return and they'll destroy her. But how can I leave Siân?"

For a brief moment Jack thought he saw a look of puzzlement on Ianto's face, but almost immediately his expression returned to his gentle smile.

"I wish I could tell you, Cariad. To leave your daughter, especially after Alice. Nothing I could say would make it any easier. But it's not as if you are leaving because you have any choice. If there was anyway you could stay, you would, I know that. At least you'll be able to keep her safe, watch over them both, even if it's from a distance, knowing they both love you even though you're gone."

Jack nodded unable to speak. Seeing his distress Ianto stepped closer still pulling Jack into a comforting hug. Jack wrapped his arms around him clinging on for dear life as great wrenching sobs suddenly tore from him, all his grief flooding out. And Ianto understood. Jack wasn't just crying for Donna, or Siân, or even him; he was grieving for his entire existence. Every decision he'd made, every life he'd lived, lost or taken. Everything.

Suddenly there was pain, splitting his head in two. Panicked Jack lifted his head to look at Ianto. His vision swam and began to blur at the edges. He opened his mouth to speak but no words emerged. Beneath his hands Ianto's body began to dissipate like early morning mist. His legs buckled beneath him and he found himself on the floor as the features of the flat began to dissolve into an oily smear. Darkness began to creep in as he frantically tried to focus on Ianto's face which he could see was streaked with tears. As his vision faded to black and the world went silent he thought he could hear Ianto's voice screaming his name over and over and a final broken whispering murmur.

"I'm waiting Cariad. I love you."

Jack took a deep shuddering breath and hauled himself upright. There were no comforting arms, no beloved voice whispering in his ear. Beneath him was cold damp concrete, behind him the icy touch of the cryogenic drawers. His Webley revolver lay on the ground beside him, his blue shirt was stained with blood, still sticky to the touch. His head was agony, the familiar resurrection headache pounding at his temples, telling him that he was alive. Again. With a groan he got to his feet, pushing himself up against the wall of drawers, his hand briefly resting on the one containing Ianto, splattered with his own blood. As he took his hand away he looked at the smears of blood on his fingertips. He could remember his dream, every painful, distressing, glorious minute. For just a few moments he had had Ianto in his arms, told him face to face how he really felt. Seen the look of joy transform Ianto's face, making his heart sing. He supposed he should have felt guilty, the love he still had for Ianto should feel like a betrayal of what he felt for Donna, but somehow it didn't. It wasn't going to make what he had to do any easier. The thought of it still made his heart contract in pain. But Ianto's faith in him, his forgiveness, would give him the strength. It had to.