The sky over Cardiff was grey and filled with tears. The rain had been pouring down all day.
Jack Harkness stood beneath an old oak tree, watching a small crowd of mourners.
Rhiannon and Johnny Davies stood close together, wearing all black. Johnny held up a large umbrella to shelter his family from the rain. Mica and David stood directly in front of them. Fidgeting, clearly struggling to stay still. Too young to understand the importance of a funeral.
The funeral for their uncle, Ianto Jones.
Jack's gaze was drawn to Gwen Cooper and Rhys Williams. His arms wrapped around his wife, pulling her in closer. Gwen leaned heavily against him for support. Her shoulders shook. She was crying.
Jack had his coat buttoned and his hands stuffed into his pockets. The constant rain dripped from the tree, barely offering shelter from the downpour. He stood there, watching the scene in front of him.
He knew he was supposed to go over.
He was expected to be there. It was his duty.
But he couldn't move. His feet felt like lead.
In his long life, Jack had attended numerous funerals. Too many. Paying respects to the dead. Condolences. Comfort. Final last words. Saying goodbye. Closure.
He knew what was expected.
He knew he couldn't do any of it.
Not this time. This time was different.
Condolences meant nothing.
He wasn't looking for comfort.
There was nothing to say.
He couldn't face a last goodbye.
He just couldn't.
When the small brunette figure in the distance broke free from her husband's comforting embrace to look around, all she saw was an empty field and a group of old trees in the distance.
Gwen Cooper's face fell as she realised Jack Harkness would not attend the funeral.
He walked among the gravestones in the old cemetery. Heavy boots crunching over gravel roads, oblivious to his surroundings.
His mind was caught in a haze, a prisoner of his memories. Shards of painful flashbacks pierced his heart, and he could not keep a coherent thought.
His soul was screaming in agony.
Jack Harkness stood beneath the old oak tree and looked at the newest grave in the cemetery.
His unconsciousness had brought him back to where he'd started.
The funeral was over. Everybody had left.
He took a few tentative steps, slowly moving forward until he reached the recently closed grave. Everything seemed unreal. Was the rain even wet?
He felt numb.
He simply stood there for a moment.
His mind was utterly blank.
Without warning, the pain returned, squeezing his heart and strangling his breath. He let out a small sob as his whole body tensed.
Bereft of his strength, he sank to his knees.
The earth was muddy from the constant rain. He didn't even notice. Raindrops pelted his dark hair and ran down his cheeks. His coat was drenched.
Despite the rain, his reddened eyes burned and felt dry.
He reached out and touched the gravestone.
Ianto Jones
Beloved brother and friend.
You will be in our memories forever.
He lightly stroked the engraved letters with his hand. The rough stone beneath his fingertips felt cold and real.
Jack opened his mouth to say something, but no sound came out.
There were no words worthy enough.
Jack tried to swallow. It hurt. So much.
A shaky breath.
Jack closed his eyes and let his thoughts wander through the chaos of his grieving mind. He slumped against the gravestone. Exhaustion crawled through his bones. Maybe he could just stay here forever. Nothing made sense anymore.
I love you.
Take it back.
Why did we never do this properly?
Let's start again.
A fresh start.
You and me?
Not just a dinner and a movie. Let's do this for real.
The beginning of something great.
All we need is one more chance.
Thoughts played over and over in his head like a broken record. What if...? Jack returned his gaze to the gravestone, his fingers trailing forever. His lips curved into a bitter smile.
Forever was overrated.
Forever was madness.
Throughout the years, he tried to remain sane despite the insanity that was his life. Maybe he should just let go. Was all of this even real? His harsh laugh, tinged with madness, floated over the gravestones.
It's not true.
All of this.
Not true. A lie. An illusion.
It can't be.
All he wanted was one more chance. He deserved one more chance. A tear escaped from beneath his eyelids and ran down his cheek. He rubbed it away. A sob escaped him as unwanted memories flooded back, cutting deep like a knife.
I love you.
No. Don't.
Why the hell did I say that? Coward.
One last moment and you close yourself off.
What have you been thinking?
Not much. Obviously.
Terror. Pain. Denial.
Take it back.
Let's start again.
He'd tried so hard not to fall for Ianto Jones and kept him at arm's length. Drawing him in. Pushing him away.
It's just sex.
No, it isn't.
It's so much more.
Like flying through a hurricane. Dancing over a rainbow. A bolt of lightning. Floating on a sea of clouds. He squeezed his eyes together. He'd been telling himself lies for so long.
This isn't love.
Just a thing without a label.
It doesn't have meaning if you don't give it a name.
Or so he thought.
A good lie.
No, it wasn't.
The tears were flowing freely as he moved closer to the gravestone. He put his arm over the top and pressed his face against the wet stone.
A thousand years' time...you won't remember me.
Yes, I will. I promise I will.
All he wants to remember is Ianto's smile, laugh, and kind eyes. The soothing sound of his voice. The soft touch of his lips on his own. How peaceful he felt as they cuddled in bed. The fun and banter they shared during movie nights.
He can't.
All he can hear are the 456.
All he can feel is the fleeting life in his arms fading away.
As his world fell apart and everything turned dark.
I love you.
No, don't.
I love you too.
Too late.