Title: Miracle
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Ianto Jones/Tenth Doctor
Fandom: Torchwood/Doctor Who
Rating: R
Table: 11, 50episodes
Prompt: 46, Second Chance
Author's Note: Continuation of Eye of the Hurricane.
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 held on to Ianto as tightly as he could; the last thing he was going to do was let go of his lover. He didn't have the strength to pull the young man up out of the void -- there was no leverage, nothing for him to balance against, no one to help.

All he could do was cling to Ianto with all his strength, praying that neither of them would let go. Ianto's hands clasped his wrists, holding on for dear life; his own grip tightening, his fingers gripping the younger man's wrists like iron bands.

Why wouldn't anyone step forward and help him? Didn't they see what was happening? Were they willing to lose Ianto to some fate that none of them could predict, to let the Rift swallow him? What was wrong with all of them?

Lightning was flashing all around the Rift; the Doctor hoped that none of it would hit Ianto, though unless it was his imagination, it seemed to be coming close with every flash of bright light. He wanted to close his eyes, but he didn't dare look away.

Ianto looked up at him, his blue-grey eyes wide, his gaze fixed on the Doctor's face. Another lightning flash shot through the Rift, and the Time Lord could almost feel Ianto's grip loosen; he held on tighter, wanting to shout for help, but sure that he wouldn't get it.

The young man's head fell back as the lightning flashed again, his gaze staring up into the Rift. The Time Lord could see the lightning reflected in Ianto's eyes; it was almost as though the power of the Rift was being absorbed into his lover's soul through the intensity of his gaze.

At that moment, a bolt of the swirling lightning struck Ianto; the Doctor could feel it sizzle through his arms, his hands tingling on Ianto's wrists. But still, he didn't let go; he wasn't about to relinquish his lover to the void as long as he had breath in his body.

Jack's hands closed over his own, taking a firm grip on Ianto's wrists and pulling as hard as he could. The Time Lord wanted to let himself go limp, but he couldn't. He wasn't going to let go of Ianto until his lover was safely on solid ground again.

Within seconds, Ianto was lying on the ground next to him, face down. The Doctor gathered his lover into his arms, burying his face against Ianto's soft hair, hugging the young man close to him. Ianto was safe. His love was here, in his arms, out of the Rift.

But .... something was wrong. The Doctor raised his eyes, frantic dark eyes searching Ianto's face. There was no response from his lover, no steady rising and falling of his chest. His eyes weren't opening to gaze up at the Doctor. There was .... no breath. No heartbeat.

There was no life. None.

"No," he whispered, placing his palm on Ianto's chest. Instead of feeling that strong, steady heartbeat that he'd grown so accustomed to, he felt .... nothing. Ianto's heart was still within his chest; there was no spark of life, no rush of blood through his veins.

Ianto's body was cold in his arms, unmoving. The Doctor's eyes widened, his own hearts seeming to skip one beat, then another. His life was standing still, frozen in time, the horror of what had happened starting to sink into his mind.

Ianto was dead.

His love would never again open those incredible eyes that were the color of a rain-drenched sky on a cool autumn day and look up at him. He would never wrap those strong arms around the Doctor again, never whisper how much the Time Lord was loved.

All of that was over. He was alone; there was a gaping chasm beginning to open within him, a void in his soul that no one else would ever be able to fill. Ianto was gone; the man he had bonded with, the love of his life that it had taken him so long to find, was no more.

The Doctor rocked back and forth, unable to believe the reality of the situation he was caught up in. If he rocked Ianto, maybe his love would take a breath; maybe he was imagining all this, his mind giving him the worst-case scenario rather than the best.

He clutched Ianto frantically, his gaze locked on his young lover's face as though the force of his will, all of the love he felt for this man, would put life back into his body. But even as he did so, he knew that he was fighting a battle he had already lost.

A keening wail seemed to fill the room; the Doctor had no idea where it was coming from, until he realized with a shock that the sound originated from his own throat. He couldn't keep it back; it came from him without his knowledge, with no effort on his part.

All he could do was rock back and forth, his lover's body clasped in his arms, tears that he hadn't known were there streaming down his face. There were no sobs, only great gulps of breath; his anguish was too deeply felt for sound to make its way out into the open.

No one came forward to comfort him; no one laid a hand on his shoulder, and there wasn't a word spoken. It was as though everyone was frozen in time, not knowing what to do or say. And really, there was nothing that anyone could say.

His life was over. He should have died with Ianto, the Doctor told himself, his breath catching in his throat. He had no reason to live now that his soul had been ripped away from him. He would go on existing, but it would be nothing even approaching a life.

He closed his eyes, wanting nothing more than to take Ianto back to the Tardis, to leave here and be alone with the body of the man he loved. He would have to find a place to bury Ianto -- or to give him the sort of Gallifreyan death ceremony that would express his grief.

All he could do was give himself over to his grief -- and try to look forward at his life without Ianto. A life that held no appeal whatsoever for him now, with the empty days and nights that he would have to force himself to get through until he drew his last breath.

A gasp of breath drew his attention, his eyes flying open at the sound. Ianto was staring up at him, those blue-grey eyes wide open, searching his face as though he couldn't believe that the Doctor was there, that he was being held in his lover's arms.

"Ianto?" His voice was incredulous, disbelieving. What was happening?

"C-cold," Ianto whispered. "S-so cold." He struggled to sit up, sliding his arms around the Doctor's waist and burying his face against the Time Lord's shoulder. "I .... where was I? What happened? I remember looking up at you, seeing lightning -- and then .... nothing. Just darkness."

The Doctor swallowed hard, not knowing what to say. This was all happening too fast for him to process it all at once. Ianto was dead -- but no, he wasn't dead. He was here, wrapped in the Doctor's arms, breathing, speaking, as alive as he'd ever been.

What was going on? His mind flew back over the last few minutes, the Rift howling around Ianto, the flash of lightning that had seemed to sizzle through him, Ianto's eyes widening as he'd gazed up into the heart of the Rift. His lover's death -- and his miraculous return to life.

Was this a second chance? Had the Rift somehow transformed Ianto in the way that the Time Vortex had transformed Jack? Was his lover .... immortal? The Time Lord drew his breath in sharply at the thought; he didn't dare hope that it was true.

He moved his hands over Ianto's body, searching for any broken bones, but he could find nothing that seemed amiss. Even his lover's heartbeat seemed strong and steady; his skin was warm again, the life obviously returned to his body by a unexpected miracle.

"You --" He swallowed again, clearing his throat. "You died, Ianto." He hadn't wanted to say it that bluntly, but the words came out before he could stop himself. "I wanted to die, too," he whispered, taking the young man's face between his hands and gazing into his eyes.

Ianto's eyes widened as they focused on him. "I-I did?" he stammered, sounding frightened and intrigued at the same time. "I don't remember anything. Just .... darkness. Emptiness. And I --" He swallowed hard again, his voice dropping to a whisper. "And I couldn't feel you."

"I was here," the Doctor whispered, his hearts aching for Ianto. No matter how devastated he had felt, the experience must have been much worse for his lover. "I've never felt such pain, Ianto. Just the thought of losing you made me not want to go on."

"I'm so sorry, love," Ianto murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "The last thing I'd ever want to do is cause you any kind of pain. You know that." He managed a slight smile, his gaze still riveted on the Time Lord. "But it was beyond my control."

"I know it was," the Doctor told him, returning the smile with a slightly wobbly one of his own. "I don't blame you for what happened, sweetheart. And it looks as though we might have been given a second chance. I don't know how or why, but I'm grateful for it."

"So am I," Ianto said softly, reaching out a hand to cup the Doctor's cheek. "I don't know what's happened to me, but as long as I'm here with you, then that's all that matters to me. I just hope I don't have to put you through that again. Or go through it myself."

Privately, the Doctor thought that might indeed happen, but he wasn't going to mention it to Ianto now. The young man had been through a terrifying experience, and now wasn't the time to tell him that he might have to deal with it again at a later date.

He didn't want to move, didn't want to get to his feet and face whatever else might happen to them today. He wanted to stay here, with Ianto cradled in his arms, and let the joy and relief at having his lover alive and apparently none the worse for wear sink into him.

But they couldn't do that. The Master was still out there, still trying to wreak havoc with their lives. And there was no telling what he would unleash upon them next. He'd probably been responsible for this -- and if he was, the Doctor would punish him for it.

Sighing softly, he got to his feet slowly, pulling Ianto up along with him. The young man leaned against him for a few moments before he straightened himself up, sliding an arm around the Doctor's waist and turning towards the members of the Torchwood team.

"I think we all have a lot to think about -- and to discuss," Ianto said, his voice weary. "Let's go into Jack's office and see if we can make any sense out of this." He pulled the Doctor close against the warmth of his body, as though he needed the comfort of having the Time Lord near.

Jack nodded, taking a deep breath and looking at Ianto and the Doctor as though he'd never seen them before. He turned and walked toward his office without a word, leaving the rest of the team to follow silently, all of them still shocked by what they'd seen.

The Doctor followed the other members of the team as they headed for Jack's office, the miracle that had taken place in front of his eyes still making his senses reel. He'd never been one to believe in miracles -- but after today, his attitude on the subject was rapidly changing.

***

Next story in series - Birth Ritual.