Title: The Other Side of the Crash
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Ianto Jones/Tenth Doctor
Fandom: Torchwood/Doctor Who
Rating: R
Table: 3
Prompt: 19, Exhausted
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own Ianto Jones or the Tenth Doctor. Please do not sue.

***

Where was he?

Ianto looked at the clock for what seemed like the millionth time that day. He'd been pacing the apartment, expecting the Doctor to burst through the front door at any moment. He should have been back ages ago, and Ianto had gone through every litany in his mind that could possibly explain where the Time Lord was.

Ianto's hands clenched into fists at his sides, trying to push away the cold, congealing fear that threatened to crawl over his skin. It didn't matter where the Time Lord was, as long as he was safe. Ianto didn't want to think about the myriad of possibilities that his love might be in some kind of danger.

He steadfastly refused to look at the clock again. It was only going to be another minute past the time when he had last looked at it.

Ianto collapsed onto the couch, resisting the urge to sit on his hands in an attempt to stop their trembling. He was fine, the young Welshman repeated over and over in his mind, willing himself to believe the words. There could be dozens of reasons that he wasn't back at the earliest possible point in time. Not all of them meant that the Doctor had somehow been hurt.

Once the Time Lord appeared, his fears would dissipate. He'd walk through that door in a matter of minutes, Ianto told himself, fixing his gaze at the offending portal that he'd spent the last few hours scowling at. It was ridiculous for him to worry like this.

He looked down at his shaking hands, clenching them and gritting his teeth with the effort to keep them still. If that didn't work, then he would sit on them. At least he wouldn't be tempted to chew at his nails, or rake his hands through his hair again and again.

Ianto jumped to his feet when he heard the scrape of a key in the lock, his eyes wide with anticipation. Instead of going to the door and flinging it open, he stood there, rooted to the spot, his heart beating so hard and fast in his chest that he was sure it was going to burst from his body and lay there on the floor, thudding and oozing crimson blood.

But it didn't. And he found himself crossing the room when the door opened and the Doctor stood there, his face ashen, his own hands seemingly as shaky as Ianto's own.

Alive. He was alive, he was here. He was safe. His safety was the only thing that mattered.

Ianto didn't quite know how he made it across the carpet to the door, to take the Doctor's hands and lead him inside the apartment and lock the door. The Time Lord stumbled across the length of the living room to sink onto the couch, pulling his long legs up in front of him and resting his forehead against his knees, eyes closed.

The young Welshman sat down beside his lover, biting his lip. There had been no greeting, no words of love, no kiss. The Doctor barely even seemed to realize he was here. That didn't bode well; and he wasn't sure that he wanted to know just what had happened to make the Doctor look so completely and utterly decimated.

The Time Lord finally lifted his head and gave Ianto a wan smile. "I'm sorry, my love," he said softly, his voice sounding hoarse and rough. "I didn't mean to ignore you. I just ...." He shook his head, sounding faint. "It's not something I want to talk about. Not now."

Ianto slid close to the Doctor and wrapped one arm around his beloved, letting the Gallifreyan sink into his embrace. "Are you all right?" It was an innocuous question, but it was the one that was uppermost in his mind at the moment. He had to have confirmation that his love hadn't been harmed in any way during his absence.

"Me? Yes, I'm fine," the Doctor hastened to assure him. "I wasn't touched. I can assure you of that. I was nowhere near .... what I witnessed," he finished softly, closing his eyes and leaning his cheek against Ianto's chest in a gesture of surrender.

Ianto breathed a sigh of relief at the Doctor's words. He was still worried, but at least he'd received confirmation from the Time Lord himself that he hadn't been harmed. But whatever he had witnessed must have been something horribly catastrophic, Ianto told himself, still feeling uneasy about his lover's obvious distress.

The Doctor looked exhausted; all Ianto wanted to do was to get him into bed and let him rest. Whatever had happened didn't matter. All that mattered was that the Time Lord was here with him, safe, unharmed, returned to him. He reached out to gently brush back the hair that had slipped into the Doctor's face, his words soft.

"I think you need to sleep for a while, beloved. You may not be able to forget whatever it was you saw, but you need to take some time to recover."

The Time Lord nodded, giving him a tired smile. "I think you're right, my sweet," he murmured, letting Ianto help him to his feet and guide him towards the bedroom. "I hope you don't mind not being able to celebrate my return tonight."

Ianto let his hand rest against the small of the Doctor's back, just above the curve of his ass. It was hard to resist the temptation to let his touch stray lower, but the last thing his lover needed now was any kind of sexual expectation being put on him. He obviously had enough burdens weighing on those slender shoulders.

"I don't mind at all," he replied, stopping their progress towards the bed and turning the Time Lord to face him. He slid his arms around the Doctor's waist, his grey-blue eyes searching his love's face, raising one hand to trail gentle fingers down the Gallifreyan's cheek.

The Doctor closed his eyes, turning his head to press soft lips against Ianto's fingertips. The young man could feel his stomach do something that closely resembled a somersault; his heart sped up and threatened to turn over in his chest.

"Let me get you undressed and get you to bed," Ianto whispered, his fingers already moving to the Time Lord's shirt. "We can talk about what it is that has you looking so exhausted in the morning. Tonight I just want you to be able to sleep in my arms."

And know for certain that you're safe, he added silently to himself.

The Doctor nodded, another small smile crossing his features. "That sounds like a brilliant idea, love," he murmured, letting Ianto remove his shirt and lead him towards the bed.

It only took Ianto a few minutes to shed his own clothes and slide into bed beside his love, drawing the Doctor into his arms and letting the Time Lord pillow his head on one broad shoulder. "Sleep, beloved," he whispered, closing his own eyes and letting himself relax. The Doctor sighed softly, nearly asleep as soon as Ianto had slipped into their bed.

Within minutes, both men were asleep, clasped in each other's arms.

***

Next story in series - Requiem.