Not a Day for Dying

Although it had only been half an hour since Ianto last brought coffee to Jack, he knocked promptly on the office door at 10.45 am and went in. He placed the empty mug he was carrying on the table.

Jack was sitting at his desk, fingering the coral, but staring off at the wall with unfocussed eyes.

"Penny for them," offered Ianto.

"You know exactly what I'm thinking," said Jack. "That's why you are here pretending to bring me coffee."

Ianto smiled at him, then moved behind him to place a reassuring hand on each shoulder. Jack reached up with his left hand and covered Ianto's hand for a second. "Put your coat on," Ianto said, scooping it off the hook and holding it out.

Jack stood up compliantly and let Ianto help him into it, right arm first then left.

"Button up," instructed the Welshman. "It's cold out there."

Obediently, Jack did as he was told.

"Come on." Ianto led the way out of the office. He grabbed his own coat on the way past his desk.

The two men stood on the lift as it rose through the Hub. "Back soon," Ianto called out to Owen, who simply waved an acknowledgement up to them.

On the Plass, the wind was whipping litter and leaves around their ankles. It was a grey and dismal day, with rain coming in almost horizontally off the sea. The café at the Millennium Center looked bright and inviting, but the two men walked without speaking along Britannia Road down to the Norwegian Church. Although it had been deconsecrated in 1974, it still offered the focal point that Jack needed today.

"They think I can't die." he said, suddenly turning to Ianto. "It's not true. I can die. I died at Passchendaele in 1917. I died at Normandy in 1944. I died at the Sommes in 1916, I died on Satellite 5 in 200,100, I died in Utopia in 100 trillion. I died hundreds of times on the Valiant." His voice cracked. "That's the thing, Ianto, I can die, I really can die. The difference is, I just don't stay dead. Not like all the others."

He fell quiet. There was no one else around on the grey November morning. In the distance, a clock began to strike eleven. Jack stood to attention and, facing the bay, he saluted. Ianto stood beside him, his quiet presence comforting.

After they had observed two minutes silence, each absorbed in very private thought, Jack surprised Ianto by continuing. "But do you know when I really died? I died when I was 16. I died inside the day I let go of Gray's hand."

Jack reached out and took Ianto's hand in his own, their fingers intertwined. He looked at it for a long moment, eyes distant again, his thoughts a long way away. He raised it to his lips and kissed it gently.

"Come on," he said wearily. "Take me home."

End