Title: Night Wind Sent
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Ianto Jones/Tenth Doctor
Fandom: Torchwood/Doctor Who
Rating: PG-13
Table: 4, 50episodes
Prompt: 42, Wind
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.

***

Ianto awakened with a gasp, sitting up in bed and pressing his palm against his chest. His heart felt as though it might burst out of his chest at any moment; its beating was so rapid that he'd wondered for a moment if he was having a heart attack.

Now, that would be just perfect, wouldn't it? he thought, a wry smile crossing his features. Being granted immortality -- and his first test of that would be death by a heart attack. Would it be possible to come back from that? He wasn't sure that he wanted to know.

It was a miracle that he and the Doctor had both somehow been given what they most wanted -- more time with each other, a time that seemed as if it might be unlimited. But Ianto was still wary of such a gift; he was all too aware that it could possibly be taken away.

After all, they didn't know for sure just how this had come about, and more importantly, why it had happened. He and the Doctor had talked it over with the rest of the Torchwood team, and they all had theories -- but no clear-cut answers.

They were all in agreement that this had something to do with the Master -- but they were also all sure that whatever plan the rogue Time Lord had been forming, in had obviously backfired on him, since Ianto and the Doctor were both still very much alive.

Jack was sure that Ianto had been the target all along, and the Doctor had agreed with him. In Jack's view, the Master had wanted to weaken the Doctor by forcing those horrible nightmares on him, so that he would be devastated by Ianto's death.

When Tosh had pointed out that the death of his soul mate would have devastated him anyway, Jack had only shaken his head and said that with the Doctor in a weakened state, it would have been much easier for the Master to prey on him in any way he chose to.

They had all been forced to agree with that assessment. And the Doctor had silently pulled Ianto close to him, wrapping an arm around his young lover's waist as they sat next to each other. It had been obvious that the Time Lord hadn't wanted to let him go.

And truth be told, he'd been comforted by the Doctor's presence, by the fact that there was some kind of physical contact with his lover. He wanted to draw the Doctor into his embrace, to hold him close and be sure that he was safe.

But he'd kept himself from doing that; they'd sat at that table in the conference room for what had seemed like half a lifetime. And for once, no one had asked him to get tea or coffee for them! Ianto almost smiled at that realization. He was no longer just the teaboy.

Whenever he looked around the Hub, most of his memories were of being at his desk, doing something computer-related for the team -- or of making coffee. But now, he had put those days of being nothing more than a glorified secretary behind him.

Even the other team members treated him with more respect now -- but was that because they actually did respect him, or simply because he was the Doctor's lover? Ianto sighed, wishing that his mind didn't put forth those kinds of questions.

Besides, they didn't matter now. He was only here at Torchwood because he and the Doctor had both felt that they might need the team's help; his life was no longer here, as a part of that team. His life was on the Tardis, out amongst the stars, by the side of the man he loved.

And now, he wouldn't have to live with the constant worry in his mind that his life could be over any time they found themselves on a planet that was less than friendly. Now, the worry of growing old and grey and losing the Doctor's love was a thing of the past.

Ianto raised his hand, studying it more closely than he'd ever done before. What had happened during that time he'd been suspended in the Rift, held fast by the Doctor's strength? All he could remember was the lightning flashes -- and looking up into a core of brilliant light.

He'd almost felt as though he was seeing into time itself -- or that the entirety of the universe, from the beginning of time until the very end of it, was looking into his soul and judging whether or not he was worthy of being drawn into that circle of time.

He could remember the howling wind, the feeling that at any moment he could be pulled away from the Doctor's grasp, to whirl into the vortex of time without any idea of what was happening to him. And he could remember looking up into the Time Lord's terrified eyes.

Then there had been that last brilliant flash of lightning that had seemed to sear into his mind, his soul, the very core of his being, just as he'd opened his eyes to stare directly into that light overhead, into the very heart of time itself.

And after that .... darkness. That was his last memory until he'd opened his eyes and looked up into the Doctor's face, realizing that his lover was sobbing as though he would never stop. The Doctor's misery had cut through him like the keen edge of a sharpened machete.

There was no remembrance of the time that he'd been .... dead. All he could remember was being cold when he'd awakened in the Doctor's embrace -- so cold that he'd thought he would never get warm again. So cold that he'd felt like -- well, like a corpse.

If he closed his eyes, it wasn't that cold darkness that he remembered -- it was the wind swirling all around him when the Doctor had been holding onto him, the way that it had torn at his clothes, whipped through his hair, tried to tear him away from his lover's grasp.

But it hadn't. In the end, he'd somehow lived through all that had happened -- and he was with the Doctor now. The Time Lord lay beside him, still sleeping for what was probably the first time since those dreams had started several weeks ago.

There was no wind in the room, but Ianto could swear that he still felt it, ruffling his hair, whispering through the room, almost seeming to speak to him in the silence. But just as he strained his senses to hear whatever words the night wind might have sent, it was gone.

The young man shivered, wrapping his arms around himself as he looked around the quiet, darkened room with wide eys. Could it be possible that the wind he was sure he'd felt -- and heard -- had been from some malevolent source? Could it have been the Master, searching for them?

He hoped with all his heart that wasn't the case; if they were lucky, then the Master would think that they were both dead and give up his pusuit of them, at least until he found out that he was mistaken. But Ianto knew that he couldn't count on that scenario to be true.

If everything that had happened -- from the strange lightning bolts within the Tardis to the fact that the Rift had somehow been opened -- had been caused by the Master, part of some insidious plan he was hatching, then he more than likely already knew of their survival.

Ianto sighed, glancing over at the Doctor to be sure that he hadn't awakened his lover. The Time Lord was still asleep, his breathing slow and regular; the young man was glad that the other man was able to sleep, even when he himself was plagued by wakefulness.

He had to try and get some sleep, Ianto told himself, lying down again and pulling the covers up over his shoulders. He'd been through an ordeal the day before, but staying awake all night worrying about what the Master's next move might be wasn't going to do him any favors.

Sliding his arms around the Doctor, he pulled his lover close against him; the Time Lord didn't awaken, but snuggled closer into Ianto's arms, murmuring softly in his sleep. Ianto smiled and pressed a gentle kiss to the other man's forehead, glad that he hadn't been startled out of slumber.

As he closed his eyes and let himself drift back into sleep, a wind seemed to whistle through the room again, softer than a night breeze. The last thought in Ianto's mind before he succumbed to sleep was that the window wasn't open -- so he shouldn't be able to feel any breeze at all.

***