AN: To all of Ianto's follower's who like me, refuse to let him go...........

PART SEVEN

Ianto recognised the room the moment he stepped in through the door, Jack at his side. The tank was there just how he remembered it from his dream and he sucked in a silent steadying breath. He knew what was coming. After the last four days of uncertainty, of fear and of finally coming out and saying what he felt, really felt........ It was all about to end and Ianto knew he couldn't stop it. He dutifully followed Jack to his death and the last thing he saw before the darkness fell upon him was Jack's tears.

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Jack stood in the empty house, Moses rubbing at his ankles demanding to be fed. Jack scooped him and nuzzled his face into soft fur, his breath hitching painfully in his chest. He had come here right after..... He doubted he would ever forget the look on Alice's face. The house still smelt distinctly Ianto and Jack didn't think he'd ever be able to leave it's confines again, but he knew he must. Gathering his resolve he cradled the cat to his chest and walked out of the house and to Mrs Willis' front door. He rang the bell and a frazzled blue rinse lady greeted him with some reserve, until she saw the look of desolation on the younger man's face.

"It's Ianto's friend isn't it?"

Jack nodded. "I'm sorry to trouble you......" The tears came and he almost choked on a sob. "I'm sorry Mrs Willis." He held out the cat. "Ianto passed away yesterday, could you please take his cat, I don't know what to do with him and Ianto always said........"

The cat was taken and cuddled. "Of course. I'm so sorry. He was such a lovely young man."

"Yes, he was. Thank you."

Before another word could be said Jack turned away wiping at his face he went back into Ianto's house. Mrs Willis stood watching his departing back and shaking her head sadly.

Jack closed the front door behind him and sagged against it. He was empty inside as once again he realised he had finally truly lost everything that mattered, his own daughter, his family all gone. Even Grey with the destruction of the Hub, even that dinosaur that Ianto adored so; another of his refugees. He straightened up and marched into the bedroom, the bed still a mess from the last time he and Ianto had slept there. Jack just wanted to sink into it and drown in Ianto's scent but he turned his back to it and went to the top draw of Ianto's bedside cabinet. Right where Ianto had left it, his diary almost completed. Ianto had many such books, but this one was his most recent, started almost a year ago now. Jack shoved it into the pocket of his greatcoat along with a wallet of photographs that Ianto kept with it. He closed the little draw and straightened up surveying the room. The bolts of fabric purchased in India still resting against the wall by the wardrobe. Jack went to wardrobe and opened it up looking at the neatly arrayed suits and shirts, the ties hanging on a rack on the inside of the door. Jack ran his fingers over the silk strips and finally pulled one off and folded it neatly before that too went his pocket. Closing the door he stepped away and took a final look around the room. His gaze went automatically to the bed and Jack finally gave in and sank down on to it, pulling one of the pillows and burying his face into it. He screamed out a howl into the fabric and heaved out his tears.

Six months later he said his last goodbye to Gwen Williams, the diary, photos and tie still in his pocket.

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Rhiannon had never been to her brother's house before. The keys had arrived in the post five days after the whole thing with the kids had settled down. There was a note with the keys.....

"Mrs Davies,

I don't know if Ianto ever told you about me. I'm Jack, Ianto's boyfriend. He asked me to make sure that you and your family inherited everything he left behind. The house and his savings are yours. I've left all the paperwork in the kitchen.

I am deeply sorry for your loss. Ianto was the most courageous and kindest man I ever knew. He died to protect your children. There was never any question of his love for you all. I can't come to the memorial service. I'm sorry. I just can't face it. Please know that I loved him so much.

Jack Harkness"

Her tears came anew. The last 10 days had been too much to take in and she stood in her brother's neat little house knowing that she would never be able to live in it and not think of him. It was too much. The house was emptied, Ianto's clothes and scant possessions donated to a charity shop. The journals were gone and Rhiannon supposed that Jack had taken those with him and she was sad that she never got to meet the man that had stolen Ianto's heart and quite probably broken it. She opened up two savings accounts for her children and put all of the money into those, knowing that's what Ianto would have expected and wanted her to do.

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Ianto's body was not released for burial.

328 people turned up for the memorial service. 27 of those were survivors from the battle at Canary Wharf, with whom Ianto had maintained contact. Gwen and Rhys Williams and Archie Cavanagh of Torchwood were sat in the front row alongside Rhiannon and her family. Martha and Tom Miligan were seated behind them. Representatives from UNIT and various other government agencies were consigned to the back of the church. Mrs Willis sat with a cat cage on her lap containing Moses. Gwen sobbed in Rhys' tight embrace, having never felt so alone in all her life. Lois Habiba and Johnson were also there and unbeknown to them all sat Alice Carter. She had seen footage on the television of Ianto's last moments and while she knew she would never forgive Jack for what he did, she also knew she had to be here for the young man she had never met because she was certain that her Father wouldn't be.

There was no sign of Jack Harkness.

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Dr Lisa Myers sighed. Ever since the incident in Thames House she had been dealing with the bodies of numerous agents and government representatives who had been trapped in the building at the time of the lockdown. The post mortems were merely a formality, but the 'virus' that had apparently killed all these people was nowhere in evidence so technically no actual cause of death had been established. They were simply dead, as if someone had just turned them off. The whole event had been weird, what with the children going all spooky and then the soldiers turning out in the streets with buses rounding them up from the schools. The whole thing had been a mess. Lisa herself had hidden her children in the attic of her house, along with her neighbour's kids. They had all been terrified.......

She pulled on her latex gloves and removed the sheet from over the corpse on the table and immediately she frowned, noting the skin colouration was different to all the other bodies she had examined. Tentatively she prodded the flesh, it was pliable and warm and she realised with shock, very much alive. The chest rising and falling very faintly.

"Jesus Christ." She muttered instantly going to the neck to feel for a pulse. It was weak and thready, but there none the less. "Fucking hell."

The eyes snapped open, startling blue, the pupils like pin pricks and a long ragged breath was hauled in as hands reached to grab at her. Lisa instinctively recoiled as the body sat up, a young man naked and vulnerable and really he should be dead, he'd been in the fridge for months. He breathed deeply and noisily his eyes darting about the room.

"Oh God.... where's Jack.... where's Jack?"