Work Text:
Transitory and Eternal
For Ianto Jones, returning to awareness was as abrupt as a gunshot. One moment there was nothing, the next, he was gasping and hyperventilating, peering through the darkness wildly.
He forced himself to calm down and take stock of the surroundings. He lay sprawled on the ground under a tree, and it was nighttime. Nerves calmed further when the location came into focus. This was Rhiannon's neighborhood, just a stone's throw from her house.
The floodgates of memory opened with that knowledge, and he had to fight down another bout of panic. Knowing where didn't reveal why, and his last recollection was...
Dying.
Ianto had died at Thames House, going up against the 456 with Jack.
Well, he didn't feel dead. He was breathing. He slipped fingers around his wrist and felt the pulse racing.
Not dead, then; that was a relief.
Ianto took a deep breath and let out the tension on exhale. All that was left to do was figure out how he'd ended up here, what had happened...and where Jack was.
He patted his pockets, looking for his mobile, frowning when it wasn't there. The only thing he found was a plain white envelope with his name on the front, in Jack's handwriting.
Scrambling off the ground, Ianto staggered over to a streetlight and tore it open with shaking hands. A feeling of dread settled in his stomach as he began to read.
My dearest Ianto,
First of all, everything is going to be all right. We beat the 456, and the children are safe. I know you; that would be your first question. I can't be there to answer them for you, so this letter will have to do.
I don't know why I didn't think of this sooner. It makes perfect sense. Rose once looked into the heart of the Tardis and was able to bring me back from the dead. The Doctor said no human was meant to have that in their head and survive, but what could it do to me? I'm immortal.
Well, I was.
I've done many things in my unnaturally long life that I'm not proud of; I let a lot of people down. It's way past time I made up for that. So, Time and I made a deal. My immortal essence in return for righting some wrongs. I made a trade.
You've alive (and mortal, no worries). It's been six months since you 'died,' but no one will remember that you didn't survive. You're there, just as if you always were. No one will question it.
My grandson Stephen is home safe with his mother. I did a horrible thing, Ianto. I killed my own flesh and blood. It was the only way I knew to defeat the 456, but knowing that didn't make it acceptable. I took my daughter's only child away from her. The least I could do was give him back to her. He deserves a chance to grow up.
Finally, there's Gray. He'll be waking up in the remains of the Hub soon, with his mind healed from the trauma and insanity. If you can manage it, I'd be grateful if you went and got him. Maybe help him get started with his new life. What happened wasn't his fault. It was mine. If I hadn't let go of his hand... if I'd been a better big brother.
I wish I could right some of the other things that happened because of me, but this is what was allowed. It will have to be enough.
You've got another chance also. Grab it with both hands, Ianto. Live, love, and be happy. That's what I want for you. You can do anything you want if you put your mind to it. You're smart, resourceful, strong. I sense great things for you in the future. Stay away from Torchwood. It destroys people. Please don't give it another opportunity to steal your life away.
Don't mourn me too much. This is my choice, and I'm at peace with it. It was an easy decision to make, my life for the three of you. I had my time and then some. I'm ready to rest now.
Lastly, I want to say it to you, properly: I love you. I'm sorry I didn't say it back when you needed most to hear it. Out of all the lovers I've had, you were the one I couldn't let go. The one I came back for. The one I died for.
Live for me, Ianto. That's all I'm asking (well, you could name one of your children after me if you wanted to).
Yours,
Jack
(Javic Piotr Thane)
Ianto crumbled the slip of paper in his fist, nails digging into the skin. He threw it down on the ground and lifted his foot to stomp it into oblivion.
Then he picked it up and smoothed it out carefully, folding it with reverence and putting it into his pocket. He knew this would be something he kept close for always.
Tears stung Ianto’s eyes, but for his own loss, Jack no longer had to bear the burden of outliving everyone he loved, suffering with no end.
For Jack, he felt happiness.
the end
3/26/22