Ianto was falling apart. This was the one thing in his life that he was half certain about, and that troubled him deeply. Jack had been gone for so long, vanished without a trace: for all Ianto knew, he was dead. However, the chance always existed that he was alive, and perhaps that was how he managed to hold it all together.
  Countless seconds had passed since the last time he'd been with Jack, ticking by on his pocketwatch. In fact, it had been more than seconds: it had been days, weeks- months? Ianto wanted to pretend that he didn't know exactly how many days, hours, minutes and seconds had passed since he'd seen the captain last, but his aching heart and troubled mind refused to let him forget. Another second spent without Jack was another second wasted, precious time slipping through his fingers like fine sand.
  Withdrawal was a crushing agony, as Jack was surely the only drug that Ianto would ever need. In some ways, Jack coursed through his very veins, giving him the inspiration to keep going for another day, reminding him that there was something worth living for. But now that Jack had gone, was there something to live for?
  Perhaps deluded in his own euphoria, Ianto had believed that Jack would come back, for Torchwood, for him. He knew it sounded selfish, but he wanted to think that there was something binding Jack to this planet, and he wanted so desperately to believe that it was himself. He needed a purpose, he needed someone, and he needed someone to need him. He needed someone he could cling to mercilessly, and who'd never let him go, no matter what the situation. He needed that person to be Jack.
  Waiting was tiresome and lonely, endless days filling up with emptiness as Ianto tried to distract himself from thoughts of Jack. He'd try to cover up his sadness with clever remarks and jokes, never knowing or caring if anybody was convinced. They all noticed that there was something seriously wrong with him, as they had all been aware of how he and Jack had been. They had been outraged at their captain's disappearance, angry with Jack for leaving them alone. It can't have been that bad for them, though: Gwen had immediately taken charge, trying to run Torchwood as normally as possible. It couldn't be normal. Not if Jack wasn't there.
  Most of life's excitement seemed faded: days blended into each other, nothing distinguishing one from the next. Ianto was sure he'd given up hope, but some deep, subconscious part of him clung to the hope that he'd see Jack again. Even though he'd felt betrayed by Jack, he couldn't prevent the love that scorched his heart, burning and weakening it, making him so vulnerable. That felt okay when Jack was around, because Ianto was so sure he could be protected, but now he wasn't here, it was like the smallest thing could send him crashing into pieces.
  He should have known he was doomed from the start.

  When time had been dragging by so slowly, it seemed impossible that it could get any slower. However, the kiss that Jack and Ianto shared on the night that Jack returned could have stretched into an eternity. Due to the awkward situation in which they had been reunited, they had hardly been able to speak properly or express themselves to each other. But sometimes, actions said more than words could.
  And now, they were standing together in Jack's office - alone, as everybody else had left (or had been ordered to leave) - pressed against each other, lips joined securely. There was no space between them, and any words that needed saying were being communicated through the kiss they shared. In it was desperation, sorrow, lust, and something much deeper, with no boundaries to limit or suppress it. In this moment, nothing mattered, only the fact that they were united again, clinging arms wrapped tightly around the other, shaking breaths being inhaled. When their lips became unjoined, their foreheads rested against each other's, comfortingly reassuring the two that they were together, not to be snatched apart any time soon. Their eyes closed, and fallen tears mixed, dripping into mouths that were still gasping for air.
  "I-I missed you s-so much while I was gone. I'm so sorry I left."
  Ianto had never been talented at expressing his emotions through words, and he prayed that Jack could understand how he'd been feeling.
  "Th-the feeling's quite mutual, sir."
  Jack laughed through his tears. "I think our relationship's progressed to a level where we don't need those types of formalities."
  "Of course, si- Jack."
  As they shared this comforting embrace, it dawned on Ianto that there was so much about this man he didn't know, so much that it was vaguely daunting. However, he took comfort from the fact that maybe, just maybe, he could be the one to find out those hidden secrets, to share something with Jack that so few people had done before. He felt mildly distraught at the fact that he would grow old while his lover remained young, never being able to die, and he knew that he would suffer some day. But that wasn't going to happen any time soon. The only thing that was important was right now, not the future or the past, but right here in the present. Ianto didn't want to think any further ahead than how he was going to coax Jack out of his clothes so that they could have a 'proper' reunion...