Title: Cursed
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Ianto Jones/Tenth Doctor
Fandom: Torchwood/Doctor Who
Rating: R
Table: 3
Prompt: 12, Curse
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.

***


The Doctor let out a soft sigh, looking at the clock for what seemed like the hundredth time during the evening. Ianto had said that he would be at the office tonight, and he was trying to wait patiently for his lover's return -- but it wasn't easy to sit here at home and know that Ianto was only a few short blocks away without bolting out of the door and heading for Torchwood.

Being impatient had always been one of his faults, the Doctor mused, settling back into a more comfortable position on the couch. He'd always tried to jump into things head first, more so in some incarnations than others, but the unfortunate tendency not to look before he leaped was something that had never left him.

He hated having to spend time away from Ianto; it felt as though he was incomplete, like some integral part of him was missing when his love wasn't by his side. It was the first time in all of his many lives that he'd ever been so dependent on a physical connection, and the thought frightened him even while he was exhilirated by it.

Exhilirated, yes -- finding the other half of his soul, after so long, so many centuries of searching, had raised him to heights that he'd long ago given up on achieving. Connecting with Ianto had replaced something in his soul that he'd thought had withered and died long ago, given him a purpose other than what he perceived as his duty.

But at the same time, it was utterly frightening to realize that his other half was human -- a human who would inevitably age and die. There would be a point when he would lose Ianto to death -- and he would have to continue on past that point, through an endless number of empty days and nights without the warmth of love to light his path.

The Doctor seriously doubted his ability to go on without Ianto; the thought was inconceivable to him, had been ever since they had shared their first kiss. When he'd felt the first stirrings of desire for the beautiful Welshman, he'd been fairly sure that it was desire and nothing more, but he'd been proven wrong about those initial thoughts several times over.

Ianto had eased the pain of loneliness in ways that no one else had been able to do. Not even Jack, with his immortality that had matched -- and surpassed -- the Doctor's own gift of an enhanced life span, had been able to assuage the loneliness that he'd felt all of his life, ever since he was a small boy growing up on his home planet. Ianto was the only one who'd been able to banish that loneliness, send it away into a dark corner of his mind.

And yet .... and yet .... he would eventually lose Ianto, as he'd always lost everyone else in his life. They all disappeared, the Doctor told himself, closing his eyes and swallowing hard. It wasn't their fault; he was the one who was different, he was the one at fault for being who he was. What he was.

Had it been the right thing to do, bonding with a human? Yet .... had there been any choice? Ianto was the one, the other half of his soul. He'd known that from the first time they'd touched; there was something that had seemed to leap out at him, some spark of communcation that he'd never felt with anyone else. There had been an instant recognition, one of the soul rather than on the surface.

Of course, he'd had his doubts at first. Who wouldn't have, after several lifetimes of searching for the missing piece to complete himself? Even ianto hadn't quite seemed to know what was the right direction to take at first. But now .... they were entwined in a bond that was far too secure to ever be broken.

Yes, he had Ianto. For now, he told himself, that insistent little voice in the back of his mind speaking up again, when he least wanted to hear it. How long would he have the young Welshman? A few years? A few decades, if he was lucky? He might only have Ianto for a few months .... or weeks .... or even days. After all, his work with Torchwood was dangerous.

The Doctor buried his face in his hands, trying to shut out the voice. No. Ianto wouldn't die. Not any time soon -- and if he could possibly find a way to keep his love with him, not sooner than he himself did. A world without Ianto was inconceivable. There was no way he could continue -- in this body or any other -- if Ianto wasn't there with him.

It was a curse, this long life of his. This was the cause of his loneliness, at the root of everything. He was the last of his kind. The only one. No one was ever going to live out his lifetime with him, alleviate the loneliness with anything more than ephemeral companionship. Not even Ianto, though he knew that the beautiful Welshman was his soul mate.

He was always going to be alone in the end.

He couldn't change that fact. He couldn't take years -- decades, even centuries -- off his life. He simply didn't know how. He wasn't even sure that it was possible. The only way would be for him to take his own life when Ianto died.

And he would.

The Doctor sighed again, rubbing his hands over his face. It was past the time that Ianto should be home, and here he was, still curled up on the couch and brooding. He had to stop this, had to be in a more settled frame of mind when his love walked through the door.

He couldn't let Ianto know how he was feeling. If the young Welshman had any inkling of the thoughts that were going through his head, he'd be much more worried about the Doctor's state of mind than the Time Lord wanted him to be. Ianto had enough to worry him as it was. The Doctor didn't want to add to his burdens.

The Time Lord looked up sharply as the sound of Ianto's key scraping in the lock penetrated his consciousness. He couldn't let his lover know of the morbid thoughts that had been running through his mind tonight. It wouldn't be easy to hide his state of mind from Ianto, but he'd manage it. He had to. He would just have to push those thoughts to the back of his mind, not let them out until he was alone on the Tardis and had leisure to do so.

Alone. He hated the sound of the word.

But he hated the idea of Ianto knowing much, much more. No secrets, they'd said. But these secrets were for Ianto's own good. They weren't something that the Time Lord could share. Not with Ianto. Not with anyone.

He'd keep those thoughts from his lover if it was the last thing he did.

***