He’d reached the edge, there was nowhere else to run; Ianto realised he was either going to get ripped to shreds, or fall to his death. Neither option appealed to him. He’d hoped to buck the trend for Torchwood agents and actually survive into his thirties, but here he was, only twenty-seven, three years from his goal, and it looked like he was doomed.
Ianto smiled. If Jack’s voice was the last sound he ever heard, he’d die content.
“Jump! I’ll catch you, I swear!”
Drawing a deep breath, Ianto closed his eyes and took a leap of faith.