A/N: A fic to commemorate remembrance day. Featuring Jack, Ianto and their family (Part of the Children of Torchwood series)

Disclaimer: No, I don't own them

They stood amongst the crowds. Ianto had Roan perched on his shoulders and Jack had Dayton on his. Tanwen stood between them holding Ianto's hand. She moved closer to the warmth of his coat, jealous of the twin's vantage point as she couldn't see what was happening. She glanced down at the vivid red poppy pinned onto her jacket.

She frowned and couldn't quite remember why she had the paper flower anyway. She tugged gently on Jack's greatcoat.

"Dad, why do I have a poppy?"

As Jack looked down to his eight-year-old daughter his face was serious, his eyes sad. "We wear them to remember the fallen soldiers. Those who left home to fight for the country but never returned"

Beside them a teenage boy looked at the family. He frowned when he saw Jack and reached into his jacket pocket. Struggling with thick gloves he pulled an old sepia photo from his pocket and examined it closely, then compared it to Jack. Satisfied he tapped his Dad on the arm.

"Dad that man looks like the man in the photo with Grandpa"

His Dad took the photo from him and looked at it. Amazed he saw that the man beside him was identical to the man in the photo. He tapped Jack lightly on the shoulder, trying to avoid Dayton's leg.

"Excuse me," he almost whispered, "I don't suppose you're father fought in the war?"

Jack was puzzled by the question and was about to say no, when he remembered that he couldn't tell the truth. Instead he nodded. The man offered a photo to him.

Jack gasped as he saw himself and a man in smart RAF uniforms with their arms around each others shoulders, grinning in triumph to the camera.

"That's my Dad Charlie, I guess that's your Dad with him. You look identical"

"People have told me that before," sighed Jack. He remembered Charlie. He remembered sharing a rare glass of scotch with him. He remembered him writing letters home to his wife and son, he remembered the game of football they had one when the picture was taken.

He remembered when Charlie's plane was shot down. His own plane went down too, but Jack revived. Charlie didn't.

He remembered having to move on, just bury one more friend and hope that he lost nobody else.

Both men lapsed into silence. Ianto held Jack's hand quietly giving it a reassuring squeeze.

Tanwen asked quietly, "Are poppies for everyone who tried to make a better world?"

Jack considered this and nodded.

"Like us?" she asked.

Jack smiled weakly. "Yes Tan, like us"

Jack and Ianto looked at each other. Both men were thinking the same. They were remembering their fallen soldiers. Their fallen team-mates. Their fallen friends.

Ianto whispered softly, "We remember you Tosh and Owen"