Jack slammed the door of the hotel room and let out a long breath. Without removing his shoes, he flopped onto the bright yellow bed of the overly cheery room. The room that could give someone a migraine if they kept their eyes open for too long. Not like that mattered, Jack only used it as a place to spend the night and store his few possessions.

Despite what he told Gwen, he had actually been planning to leave the next day. But after what happened at the funeral, he knew that he was going to have to stay. Besides, just wondering where he might go reminded him of how exhausted he was.

Jack was half a sleep when the phone rang, and his first instinct was to ignore it. However, the only person that he had given this number to was Gwen and he remembered telling her that she would only have to use it if he was unreachable. Groggily, he pushed himself up, reached for the nightstand, and did his best to push away the worry that Gwen was in some kind of danger.

"What part of 'don't call me until I've had at least eight hours of sleep' wasn't clear?" He asked in an amused tone.

"Hello, Jack." In less than a second Jack was wide awake. Had this been a year ago, he probably would have dropped the phone, tears probably would have formed in his eyes, and maybe for a second he would have believe that the voice at the end of the line belonged to the man that he had lost.

"Who the hell is this?" His tone was dark, and his voice was crisp with anger.

"Have you really forgotten my voice so soon?" Jack searched for the right words to say, who ever had called him took this as an invitation to keep talking. "Ok, that was a low blow. Sorry."

"You're not him." Jack blurted.

"Jack..."

"What is this," he snapped. "Some kind of sick joke?"

"No, it's not a joke." To this, Jack laughed a cold and humorless laugh.

"I guess I'm dreaming then, is that it?" He wanted desperately to just hang up the phone, but his hand kept it to his ear, and his mouth kept talking. "That wouldn't work on me in a thousand years. Besides, if I were dreaming he would be here, not just calling me."

He hadn't meant to add the last bit.

"Did you mean what you said?" The voice asked, almost ignoring him. "At the seance. Did you mean you said?"

Jack was silent, he didn't trust his voice to answer. He could feel his walls of distrust crumbling before him. The voice waited a moment before speaking again.

"Jack?" He sounded younger. Well, not exactly younger, just less burdened, almost carefree.

"Ianto?" The moment Jack spoke the name, the tears that he thought he had grown past streamed down his face.

"It's me." Ianto whispered.

"Where are you?" Jack tried to will away what he was sure would end up being false hope.

"I'm not back," Ianto told him from the other end of the line.

"You're still dead," Jack didn't realize that those words had left his lips until he heard himself speak them.

"I'm sorry." Jack wanted to tell Ianto that he shouldn't be, that is wasn't his fault, if anything it was Jack's fault, but his throat felt as if it had closed up. Ianto seemed to realize what Jack was thinking and quickly continued. "But I'm not where you think I am. I'm not in the darkness."

"What?"

"I was for a long time, but," there was a muffled laugh. "I don't know how, I'm just not there anymore. I'm somewhere better. I'm ok, Jack. I needed you to know that." His tone dropped to a whisper again. "I miss you."

"I miss you too," Jack made no attempt to keep the sobs out of his voice. "I wish you were here."

"I know." Ianto said in a soothing manner. "I'm sorry."

"Please stop apologizing," Jack nearly shouted. "None of this is your fault."

"It's not your's," Ianto answered back.

"Really? That's not what you said before-"

"Jack, I was upset-"

"And you have every right to be! You're dead because I didn't think. Because I was to busy showing off. I was an idiot! I was always an idiot to you." Jack swallowed. "Ianto, I'm so sorry."

"It's alright." Jack could tell that Ianto was crying as well. "That's why I'm calling. I know that you're still holding on to regrets. You need to let them go."

"Can you call me again?" Once more he tried to beat down the hope building up inside him.

"I don't know."

"That's alright," Jack said softly. "It's just good to hear your voice again."

"How are you?" Ianto asked, and Jack smiled. He preceded to tell Ianto about the Miracle and everything that he had been busying himself with. The story would stop occasionally for Ianto to make comments, and for Jack to either laugh or agree.

"Yes," he suddenly said.

"I'm sorry?" Ianto's voice was puzzled.

"I didn't answer you, when you asked if I meant what I said at the seance." Jack's voice broke with fresh tears.

"And you did?"

"With all my heart." The strength in his own voice surprised him.

"I love you too." Ianto whispered.

"I love you," Jack wished that this hadn't only been the second time he had said those words. "Ianto Jones, I love you."

"Goodbye, Jack."

Before he could respond, before he could beg him not to go, Jack heard a soft click followed only by static at the other end. In a daze he placed the phone back, and dropped down on the bed. He waited an hour for the phone to ring again, but part of him knew that it wasn't going to.

"Goodbye, Ianto."

I haven't written for Torchwood (or written anything at all) for a while, so I hope this was all in character. This oneshot was inspired by the novel The First Phone Call From Heaven by Mitch Albom.

Please check out my Janto music videos: Jack and Ianto: A Thousand Years ( /3r2adGehK1g) and Jack and Ianto: Safe And Sound ( /IbJ4YTTQlKM)

Thanks for reading! Please review. ;-)