Title: Requiem
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Ianto Jones/Tenth Doctor
Fandom: Torchwood/Doctor Who
Rating: R
Table: 3
Prompt: Prompt: 2, Death
Author's Note: Continuation of The Other Side of the Crash.
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 glanced over at the Doctor, a slight frown on his face. It had been two days now, over forty-eight hours since the Doctor had returned from wherever he'd been. He still hadn't told Ianto just what it was he'd seen that had shaken him so terribly, and he was still brooding over it, to the point where Ianto was becoming worried about him.

Whatever it was, it had shaken the Time Lord so deeply that he'd barely come out of his brooding state. He hadn't responded to Ianto's hesitant attempts to make love, merely shaking his head and burrowing into his boyfriend's arms as though to hide from the world. That definitely wasn't like the Doctor that Ianto knew.

Take now, for instance. Instead of being his usual cheery, inquisitive self, the Doctor was sitting on the end of the couch, long legs drawn up to his chest, chin resting on his knees as he gazed out of the window. Ianto was fairly sure that he wasn't actually seeing what was outside the window -- no, he was seeing whatever it was that he wouldn't talk about. Reliving it.

His lips tightened, and he put down his book and sat up straighter in the chair. He was determined to find out just what it was that had devastated the Doctor to bring him to this point. It was eventually going to have an effect on the Time Lord's health, if he kept brooding; it was already having an effect on his mental capacity.

Ianto didn't say a word. He only got up and moved to the couch, reaching out and resting one hand on the Doctor's knee, resisting the urge to move that hand up the inner seam of his jeans to his thigh.

The Doctor looked startled, his eyes widening as he turned to look at his boyfriend. Ianto returned the look, moving his other hand to the Time Lord's shoulder and squeezing it gently.

"What?" He sounded vague, unfocused. "Is something wrong, Ianto?"

The young Welshman nodded, moving closer to the Doctor. "Yes, something's wrong. For two days now you've barely spoken, you haven't eaten at all, and you've cried out in your sleep. I don't know what it was that you witnessed when you were gone, but I'm worried enough to be at the point where I demand to know so that I can try to help you get past it."

The Doctor shook his head, looking away from Ianto. "No, Ianto. I don't want to bring you into it. It's better that you don't know."

Ianto sighed softly, reaching out one arm to curl it around the Time Lord's slender waist and pull the other man close against his body. "Beloved, I'm not going to sit here and watch you waste away because of this. If I know what's caused this to happen to you, then I can at least try to fight it and push it away."

The Time Lord rested his forehead on Ianto's chest, closing his eyes, his voice heavy and almost choked when he finally spoke. "No, Ianto. Don't you understand? You're the one good, pure, perfect thing in my life. I can't let anything like this touch you. I can't let you be sullied by memories I don't want to have."

"This is what I'm here for," Ianto whispered, taking the Doctor's face between his hands and gazing into the Time Lord's dark eyes. "I'm here to share this with you, beloved. To make this easier for you to bear. You don't have to protect me, love. I'm here for you to lean on."

The Doctor gulped, blinking back tears and choking back a sob. "I know, I know. You're right. I shouldn't be keeping this from you. I just can't bear to think of you carrying the weight of this, too."

"I didn't see whatever happened, you know." Ianto's voice was still soft and loving, but firmer than it had been only a few moments before. "I won't react to it in the same way that you will. It's going to be much easier to hear about it from a second-hand point of view."

The Doctor nodded, taking a deep breath and opening his mouth as though to speak, but no sound came out. He only sat there, looking helplessly at Ianto, as though he didn't know how to begin speaking about what he'd seen.

Ianto decided to help him get started. "Doctor, what exactly did you see? What is it that's shaken you so badly?"

The Doctor's mouth worked, as if the words didn't want to be spoken. Finally, they came out, hesitantly, as though they were being dragged from the depths of his being. "They .... were .... all dead. All of them."

"All of who?" Ianto was perplexed; he had no idea what the Time Lord was talking about. "Who was dead? Where were you? I don't understand."

"The name of the planet doesn't matter," the Doctor whispered, his eyes taking on a faraway look, as though he was no longer seeing what was in front of his face, there in the room with Ianto. "It's a dead planet now. All the inhabitants, all the men, women and children. All dead. Gone. Exterminated as though they'd never existed."

Ianto was horrified; no wonder the Doctor had been so strongly affected. And what was happening now definitely wasn't good -- because the Doctor wasn't just telling him about it. He was seeing it all in his mind's eye, reliving the horror he must have felt when he'd actually been there.

"It's over now," he murmured, wrapping his arms around the Doctor and drawing th slender, fragile man against the strength of his own body. "It must have been horrible, but it's in the past now."

"I knew so many of them," the Doctor whispered, still back on whatever planet it had been, his memories so strong they appeared to have overtaken his mind. "So many were friends. People I trusted, who I turned to for help and advice. Gone. All gone. And I've no idea why, or who did it."

"I'm so sorry," Ianto said softly, stroking one hand through the Doctor's soft, tawny hair. "I'm so sorry, love. But you can't live in the past. You can't beat yourself up over it. There was nothing you could have done, you didn't even know what was happening."

"I could have stopped it," the Doctor choked out, tears beginning to stream down his cheeks. "I could have changed things -- if I'd been there. I could have found a way to stop the extermination of a race. A race of people who never did a damned thing to harm anyone."

He buried his face in Ianto's shoulder, giving way to his tears, slender body racked with wrenching sobs. Ianto rocked back and forth, murmuring soothing words, clasping the Doctor in his arms. He hadn't expected this, hadn't expected the flood of emotions, the grief. But at least the Doctor wasn't brooding now -- he was reacting. Tears were a good sign.

"Shhh, love," he whispered, resting his cheek against the Doctor's hair and closing his own eyes. "What's done is done. It's a tragedy, but I'm glad you weren't there. I wouldn't have wanted you in the middle of that kind of devastation."

The Doctor looked up at him, his tear-streaked face incredulous. "You wouldn't have wanted me to try to save all those people? An entire planet of innocent souls, and you wouldn't have wanted me to do anything for them?"

Ianto took the Doctor's face between his hands again, gazing into his love's eyes before bending his head to place a gentle kiss on those parted lips. "No, you don't understand. "I wouldn't have wanted you there in the middle of that -- because I couldn't bear to lose you."

"I could have stopped it," the Doctor insisted, sniffling a little. "I know I could have."

"No, love. You don't know that," Ianto said gently, wiping away the salty tears from the Doctor's face with the pads of his thumbs. "You might have died there, trying to save those people -- and left me here alone. And I would never have known what happened to you."

The Doctor nodded slowly, reluctantly. "I know .... but I would have found a way, somehow. I would have at least tried."

"I know you would have, love," Ianto said softly, pressing a kiss to the top of the Doctor's head. "You would have done your best. But we'll never know what could have been."

"No, we won't," the Doctor whispered, thin arms tightening around Ianto's waist. He sagged against his boyfriend, the storm of weeping spent, sniffling occasionally, finally raising a hand to wipe at his eyes.

Ianto didn't say anything else; he only sat there, his love cradled in his arms, feeling immeasurably better now that he knew what was wrong. This was something he could fight, something he could marshal arguments against to make the Doctor see reason. He felt much less helpless now that he actually knew what was wrong.

What a horrifying experience for the Doctor, he thought to himself, his arms tightening protectively around the fragile man in his arms. To lose a friend was one of the saddest happenings that anyone could experience -- but to lose a whole planet full of them, and not know the reason for it, would be utterly devastating. He could understand why the Doctor had been so distraught.

But it couldn't continue. It wasn't healthy to brood like this; the Time Lord had to put it behind him and get on with his life. After all, he had more of a life to look forward to than anyone else Ianto knew.

"Are you up to going out, love?" he finally asked, brushing his lips against the sensitive shell of the Doctor's ear. "You haven't eaten a thing for two days. You need to get some food in you, before you pass out."

"I suppose you're right," the Doctor agreed reluctantly, shrugging his slim shoulders. "Though I'd prefer not to go out."

"All right," Ianto agreed. "Perhaps we can cook, or I can order something." This was good. The Doctor was at least agreeing to eat. It was a start, a step back into normality. Well .... what passed for normal, considering that the Doctor was half-alien.

He loosened his grip on the Time Lord, getting up from the couch and holding out a hand to the Doctor. "Let's go into the kitchen and see what we have there, all right?" he said softly, smiling down at his love.

The Doctor gave him a slight smile in return, taking the proffered hand and letting Ianto pull him to his feet, then encircle his slender waist with one arm and draw him close.

It would take a while, Ianto thought as they headed for the kitchen. The Doctor probably wasn't going to get over this quickly. But at least there'd been a small step made towards the future. And small steps would eventually get them there.

***