Ianto doesn't try to follow her. He can't. He can't move--he can barely breathe.
He has a thousand times a thousand words to say, to explain...he can't utter a one. He can't see the point, can't find any meaning in betraying queen, country, and friendship for Lisa--betraying the man he loved for the woman he loved.
He sold his soul so many times--it's not like he has one left to lose.
It's a good ten minutes, standing there, before he can muster the wherewithal to rip a page from his notebook and scribble a note, then stalk up to the door she slammed behind her. He crouches, can hear her tears...
He folds the note very deliberately, and raises his voice just loud enough to be heard.
"Jane. Japhet. Alice. Emily."
The names she'd rattled off that first night on the beach, as they remembered their dead together.
"Oscar. Violet. Henry. Jasper. Samuel."
"...I don't expect you to remember all of those names, but... It's nice to speak of them again."
"Adelaide. Esther. Abel. Harriet. Jonah."
"...I shall remember...It's important to know you'll be remembered--it's the only kind of true immortality."
He shoves the note under the door, then lays his hand against the wood.
"...Dahlia."
Because he's convinced that, to her, he's dead now--but she isn't. Not to him.
Not ever.
Ianto leaves without notifying anyone in the house. If she chooses to read the note, it simply says:
I never said I was right. I know I'm not right. All I gave was a reason. And I know that it doesn't matter, but I AM sorry.
This won't mean anything to you, but every one of them--I would steal them back from the universe for you if I could. And I shall spend the rest of time, tortured unto madness with the agony of a broken heart.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2024-02-05 10:42 pm (UTC)He has a thousand times a thousand words to say, to explain...he can't utter a one. He can't see the point, can't find any meaning in betraying queen, country, and friendship for Lisa--betraying the man he loved for the woman he loved.
He sold his soul so many times--it's not like he has one left to lose.
It's a good ten minutes, standing there, before he can muster the wherewithal to rip a page from his notebook and scribble a note, then stalk up to the door she slammed behind her. He crouches, can hear her tears...
He folds the note very deliberately, and raises his voice just loud enough to be heard.
"Jane. Japhet. Alice. Emily."
The names she'd rattled off that first night on the beach, as they remembered their dead together.
"Oscar. Violet. Henry. Jasper. Samuel."
"...I don't expect you to remember all of those names, but... It's nice to speak of them again."
"Adelaide. Esther. Abel. Harriet. Jonah."
"...I shall remember...It's important to know you'll be remembered--it's the only kind of true immortality."
He shoves the note under the door, then lays his hand against the wood.
"...Dahlia."
Because he's convinced that, to her, he's dead now--but she isn't. Not to him.
Not ever.
Ianto leaves without notifying anyone in the house. If she chooses to read the note, it simply says:
I never said I was right. I know I'm not right. All I gave was a reason. And I know that it doesn't matter, but I AM sorry.
This won't mean anything to you, but every one of them--I would steal them back from the universe for you if I could. And I shall spend the rest of time, tortured unto madness with the agony of a broken heart.
I love you.
If I don't belong to you, I belong to no one.