Once again, Captain Jack Harkness sat in a bar. It wasn't anything strange to occur these days.

Even though Jack never got drunk, something about the atmosphere made him dizzy. He liked being surrunded by people who weren't quite in their right mind. Because he wasn't either. The drunk people in the bar were like him. So he came here and sat down, all alone with a water glass in front of him. After thousands of years alcohol still made all sort of creatures do the craziest things. People wanted to forget. It was fun to watch.

These days, Captain Jack Harkness wasn't much of a hero anymore. But he could still remember days – long gone – that he was. Every morning when he woke up, he recalled every moment that seemed important to him. And they all did. Everything that was left was the memory and he held on to it.

It was everything he was, really. Just a mess, a bundle of broken memories. He couldn't say with clarity that everything he remembered was real. He could've imagined it. It was likely that he'd imagined it. People do crazy things when they get lonely. Jack shoud've been the master of craziness. Master. His memory whispered something concerning this word from deep down, but he couldn't catch it. Everything reminded him of something and he could never tell what it was.

It was also possible that someone had implanted the memory inside of him.

Maybe it was all just a dream. A dream he had liked so much that he had made it his memory.

It didn't really matter. It wasn't like a dept he paid. It was something else and whenever he remembered, he felt something. That rarley happend, these days.

His memories were the only things that made him feel – well, not alive. Not like a person either. But they made him realize that he still existed.

'Hello', a voice called from behind him. It took a moment until Jack spared the guy a glance. Then he looked back at his glass. If one fell down and broke too hard, crazyness spilled out. It really was no wonder, after thousands of years.

'Hey there, tiger pants.'

The young man sat beside Jack. The immortal smirked. He wore a suit, just like he remembered. Hopfully he didn't get anything mixed up in his had. He wanted to remember, he wanted so hard...

The man in the suit looked down, swallowing.

'Well, I... I didn't expect you to remember me.'

He sounded hurt. Jack smiled.

'Listen, I know this must sound odd to you but you know me. My name is Ianto Jones.'

Jack chuckled.

'What's funny?' Ianto demanded angrily.

'You thinking there was a way I'd forget you. Good to see you again, Ianto Jones.'

The name felt good on his lips. It had been such a long time since he'd spoken those words.

'You don't seem surprised. Are you?'
'Nah' Jack sighed. 'I am surprised that it took you so long. You are buried deep inside my mind. I thought you'd show up erlier.'

'I'm not someone you just imagine, Jack' frowned Ianto, 'Am I?'

'Well, you surely ain't real. You died, like, seven thousand years ago.'
'That's why I'm here. I'm a... a ghost. And I need your help.'

'Yeah, you were a ghost once too, in the house of the dead. You shoud've come with me, you know.'
'Someone had to close the rift.'

'And of course you did it. You're a hero, Ianto. Always have been. You're not a ghost. You're a fantasy. And it took you way too long.'

'What happend to you? How can you remember me, after all this time?'

'Every morning, when I wake up, I can see your face. Every evening when I go to sleep, I can here your voice. Every time I come back to life, I wish you were still beside me. I never would have told you that, back then, but I guess there's no point in hiding anything. Shoud have told you then too.'

'It's okay.'

'No, it's not. But I'm past regretting anything. I was waiting for you to come. Seven thousand years, now I'm out of my mind. What do people call it? Crazy. Mad. Insane. Nuts. Daft. To have a screw lose. And now you're here. I'm glad.'

'Jack, you're not crazy. I'm real. Well, as real as a ghost can be.'

'I've lived long enough to know that ghosts don't exist. Not really.'

Ianto looked at him, concerned.

'Let's go outside.'
The two of them left the building. Jack looked up at the red night sky. A familiar feeling started creeping up inside of him. Ianto was wrong. Ghosts didn't exist. He'd sworn himself to make Ianto immortal, to make him live inside his memory. Did he really bring him to life now, in his crazyness? Jack never got lucky. Luck had left him the moment that Dalek shot him, all this time ago. In his life so far Jack had met a lot of people. He'd loved a lot of people. And he'd lost all of them. One of them he liked to remember the most.

'If I'm just an image of your mind, can you please imagine I'm not so bloody cold?' said Ianto shivering.

'Seven thousand years, Ianto', wisphered Jack.

'What?'

'Seven thousand years! That's not damn fair!'

Ianto winced. 'That doesn't sound like you.'

'Well, seven thousand years change you. And I've missed you. I've missed you so much. Don't you dare leave me again!'

'I'm here for you, Jack', said Ianto softly. 'This isn't you. Doing nothing all day but staring at a glass of water. How long have you been on this planet? For months? You're a traveller. You save people. Just get on a spaceship and – run.'

'Will you come with me?'

'I'm here for you' Ianto repeated.

'Okay then... I guess I've waited long enough.'

A phrase came to his mind. He knew it was a memory but he couldn't say where it came from. 'Allons-y, Ianto Jones.'

The bar man looked to the glass door for a moment. The guy with the great coat had been coming to the bar for months now but only today he started acting strange. At first it had seemed like he had been talking to himself but after the bar man overheard what he had said it was clear that the guy had been talking to someone else. He'd been talking to the air.

The most normal people turned out crazy in the end.

'Man' thought the bar man, shaking his head. 'All people coming to this bar are queer as hell.'

Jack kept travelling with a companion no one knew of. A companion no one ever saw or heard. A man that had left the universe a very long time ago.

When Jack finally laid himself to rest the memory died with him and eventually the image faded.

'Thank you' Ianto woud've said. 'At least you didn't forget me, then.'

'Never' Jack woud've answered. There were so many stars in the sky and one of them had shined brigther than the rest. That star had been his guide.

But even the stars die and you can never say good bye.