Ianto clutched Jack’s coat to his face and breathed deeply. It smelled of Jack, that warm, tantalising aroma Jack had always said was 51st century pheromones.
Tears stung Ianto’s eyes as grief threatened to overwhelm him. Jack had told them he couldn’t die, but now he lay lifeless in the morgue, the life force drained from him as he sacrificed himself to save the world.
It was all their fault. They’d let themselves be deceived by visions of loved ones long gone. Their betrayal had cost Jack his life.
Ianto’s half-healed heart shattered inside him.
He should’ve stopped them.