Title: Best Kept Secrets
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Ianto Jones/Tenth Doctor
Fandom: Doctor Who/Torchwood
Rating: PG-13
Table: 11
Prompt: 33, Secret
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the Tenth Doctor or Jack Harkness. Please do not sue.

***

Ianto awakened with a start, laying in bed for a few moments and trying to clear his head. What in the hell had woken him up? It took him a few minutes to realize just what it was that had caused him to bolt out of his dreams and into reality.

The Doctor was lying beside him, tossing restlessly in his sleep. There were breathy, agitated murmurs coming from him, the words indistinguishable. To Ianto's ears, the whispers sounded almost desperate; pleas that were getting more panicked by the second.

He hesitated to wake the Doctor, sitting up in bed and fumbling for the lamp on the table beside the bed. What if it was only a dream, something that the Doctor would calm down from within seconds? He didn't want the Time Lord to be annoyed at him for waking him up.

But no -- he wasn't calming down. In fact, the Gallifreyan's feverish restlessness seemed even more pronounced in the few moments since Ianto had been jerked awake.

Ianto reached for the Doctor, sliding both arms around his lover's waist and pulling him close. It took him a few seconds to realize that his touch wasn't calming and soothing the Doctor the way that it usually did; his love was pulling away from him in a way that he never had before.

And the Doctor was whimpering.

The young Welshman kept one arm around the Doctor's slim waist, using his other hand to shake his lover firmly by the shoulder. "Doctor, wake up," he intoned, a frown creasing his forehead. Whatever was wrong, he didn't like seeing the Time Lord in this state.

The Doctor's eyes flew open, wide and panicked, accompanied by a cry that wrung Ianto's heart.

He'd never seen his love look so .... panic-stricken was the first word that came into his mind. Terrified was the word that followed only a split-second later.

"Shhh, beloved, it's only me," he whispered, hoping that the Doctor could focus on his words, his nearness, in spite of the Time Lord's obvious distress.

The panicked look left the Doctor's dark eyes by degrees, and the Gallifreyan burrowed into his lover's arms, pressing his face into the crook of Ianto's neck and gulping in air. Ianto wrapped both arms around his love, still frowning, worried even more at the Time Lord's silence.

He could feel the Doctor's dual heartbeats galloping against his own; whatever it was that had agitated him so much must have been terrible. Ianto pressed his face against the softness of the Doctor's tawny hair, murmuring comforting words that he hoped would soothe the man in his arms.

After what seemed like a long time, eventually the Doctor's breathing slowed, the short, almost panicked gasps and gulps of air becoming more measured. Ianto could literally feel his love's heartbeat slowing, the Doctor starting to relax in his arms.

He didn't pull away from the Gallifreyan; instead, he kept his cheek against the Doctor's hair and whispered to his love, keeping his voice soft and steady. "What is it, love? I don't think that it was just a bad dream, not with the reaction you were having."

The Doctor shook his head slowly, a soft sigh coming from what seemed like the depths of his being. "No, it wasn't just a bad dream. Not this time."

"What was it?" Ianto moved a hand beneath the Doctor's chin, raising that lovely face to his own and searching his love's eyes. "Please tell me."

"I ...." The Doctor closed his eyes, gulping again before the words finally came, spoken slowly and hesitantly. "Not dreams, Ianto. Memories. Memories of times long before you came into my life -- and of times since. Memories that I don't want, but that I can't seem to delete out of my mind."

Ianto nodded soberly, pulling the Time Lord's slender body closer. He knew exactly what the Time Lord meant; he had memories of his own that he would rather keep dead and buried, but which refused to stay behind the doors he'd tried to firmly close on them.

"The Master?" he finally said, the name sounding vile on his tongue. He wanted to spit it out, wash it away, cleanse his mind and his mouth of the very essence of the word.

Master. He hated that monster. Hated what he'd done to the Doctor, even more than what that man had done to him. No, not a man. It was a monster, something only spoken about in the softest of whispers, and not at all if it was possible to keep from doing so.

Ianto tried not to think about what that creature had done to him -- but he wanted even less to think about what harm, both physical and emotional, he'd inflicted upon the Doctor.

The Doctor nodded reluctantly, bowing his head and resting his forehead on Ianto's shoulder. The young man felt a shiver run through his lover's body, and a wave of fear washed over him. He'd hoped that the Doctor was recovering from his last encounter with the Master, but it seemed like that was wishful thinking on his part.

The Time Lord hadn't spoken much to Ianto about what had happened; he'd had a long talk with Jack, but when Ianto had tried to speak with his former lover about whatever it was that the Doctor had told him, Jack had said in no uncertain terms that the Doctor hadn't wanted Ianto to know the extent of what he'd been through.

It was hard not resent that. But Ianto was trying -- though it hurt like a motherfucker to feel that he was left out of part of the Doctor's thoughts, part of his life.

He was the Doctor's lover, his soul mate. Not Jack. He was the one who should share this burden. He was the one who should know.

"I should tell you. I know I should," the Doctor sighed softly, his face still buried against the column of Ianto's throat. "But I can't. I can't, Ianto. I just .... I can't. I'm sorry, my love. I'm so sorry."

The Doctor was almost on the verge of tears again, his voice sounding thick and choked. Ianto placed a finger beneath the Time Lord's chin again to tip his face up, this time kissing the Doctor gently, trying to put all the love he felt for this man into that kiss.

"Don't be sorry," he whispered, brushing the Doctor's hair back from his face and gazing into his love's eyes. "Just promise me one thing."

"What?" the Doctor asked, his eyes holding a wary look that Ianto hadn't seen there before.

"Don't keep things from me. Please," Ianto said softly, not breaking their eye contact. "I know that you think I can't handle it, but you're wrong. I'm stronger than you think. And I want to be strong for you. I can. Please give me the chance to prove it."

The Doctor's eyes searched his own for what felt like an eternity before the Time Lord finally nodded, albeit a little reluctantly. "I suppose you're right. I shouldn't keep anything from you." He reached for the pendant that Ianto always wore, long fingers closing around the opaline surface. "When I gave you this, I relinquished my right to keep anything from you."

"You don't have to talk about it now," Ianto murmured, pressing a kiss to the Doctor's forehead. "But we do need to be honest with each other about what we both went through. No keeping secrets, my love. Not from each other."

"No secrets," the Doctor repeated in a whisper, his body shifting closer to Ianto's in the dim light of their bedroom. "But .... not now, please. I don't think I'm in the proper state of mind for this kind of discussion."

"When you're ready," Ianto said softly, settling himself back down against the pillows, the Time Lord still cradled in his arms. "I'll be here to listen, beloved."

"I know you will," the Doctor whispered, closing his eyes and curling into Ianto's embrace. Within moments, the Gallifreyan had fallen asleep again, his body soft and pliant against his lover's, breathing deep and steady.

Ianto laid there for what seemed a very long time, watching the Doctor's thin chest rise and fall. Finally he, too, succumbed to sleep, his eyes closing as the first grey streaks of dawn began to break over Cardiff to herald another day.

***