Title: Sad I Cry
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Ianto Jones/Tenth Doctor
Fandom: Torchwood/Doctor Who
Rating: PG-13
Table: 2, 10_hurt_comfort
Prompt: 5, Grief
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 sighed, rolling over in bed and staring up at the ceiling. It was early morning, the grey light of dawn streaking through the windows of Ianto's flat, the time when most of the city was still asleep and enjoying the last of their night's rest.

But he was lying here wide awake, unable to rest. He'd been jolted awake by a dream that had seemed so real that his hearts had raced for a long time after he'd awakened, taking longer than they should to resume their normal calm beating in his chest.

Of course, it wasn't a dream, but a memory. The memory of Gallifrey, the Time Wars, and his part in them. A memory that would always be imprinted on his mind, the images playing themselves out in his head in living color for the rest of his life.

He could still feel the constriction of his hearts at the moment of his home planet's destruction, the near-panic that had swept over him when he realized that he had no choice but to be the destroyer of his own world, his own people.

He'd committed genocide. He hadn't wanted to, but he'd done it. There had been no choice, and even the other Time Lords would have told him that it had to be done.

But that didn't exacerbate the guilt he would always feel, that would follow him everywhere and haunt him until he drew his last breath. Or the overwhelming, incapacitating grief that he felt every time he thought of his home.

At least he'd managed not to wake up sobbing this time; it would have woken Ianto, and he wasn't sure if he was capable of explaining how he felt. He wasn't even sure that he could manage to put the feeling into words, not words that would make sense.

Ianto had never done anything like that; he'd never been faced with the choice of killing off a race of people, his own people. The Doctor prayed that his young lover would never know what that was like -- it was a decision that he wouldn't even wish on his worst enemy.

He accepted the responsibility of what he'd done; it had been an inevitability, and he'd done what he had to do. He hadn't wanted to do it, and he'd searched desperately for another solution. But there hadn't been one. In the end, his hand had been forced.

And again, that didn't make the guilt or the grief any easier to deal with. Yes, he'd had no choice, but that didn't exonerate him in his own eyes.

The Doctor had to blink to hold back the tears that were even now threatening to spill over and course down his cheeks. He hated to cry about the destruction of Gallifrey -- he'd done enough of that in the past -- but the memory inevitably brought tears.

Usually, he could hold them back -- but he was feeling vulnerable this morning, more so than he had in a long time. He was so tired of always having to be strong, always having to keep himself locked down emotionally.

Of course, he didn't have to do that with Ianto. His young lover never expected him to hold anything back; in fact, Ianto always wanted him to share what he was feeling. It had been hard to do at first, but as time went on, it was becoming easier for him to do.

It was a new experience for him, really, sharing his feelings and not trying to seem as though he wasn't breaking down inside whenever he thought of his lost home planet. He'd never been able to share those emotions with anyone before -- not even Jack.

Even the companions who'd been closest to him hadn't really known how he felt. How could they? He'd never let them get close enough to really see. He hadn't trusted them enough.

But Ianto .... their relationship was different. He held nothing back from his lover; Ianto knew more about him than anyone ever had. It was frightening, laying himself bare to the core, but it was also exhilirating, giving himself that much emotional freedom.

He'd been able to tell Ianto things that he'd never told anyone before -- about his childhood, about his family, about Gallifrey and what it had been like to grow up there. Memories that had involved tears, yes, but they'd also invoked smiles and joy.

The Doctor sat up, wiping ineffectually at the tears that were now streaking down his cheeks. He didn't want to cry, but he couldn't seem to keep the tears back. They were overflowing, needing an outlet, and all he could do was brush them away as they fell.

A soft sob escaped him almost before he knew that he'd made a sound; he clamped his hand over his mouth, hoping that he hadn't awakened the young man sleeping beside him. The last thing he wanted at the moment was for Ianto to know that he was crying.

He felt Ianto stir in the bed beside him, and mentally cursed himself for not being more quiet. The young man sat up, blinking as he looked at the Doctor and realized that the Time Lord was sitting there with tears on his cheeks.

Ianto leaned over, pulling the Doctor into his arms and tilting his face up so that their eyes met. The Doctor wanted to look away, but he couldn't. He was drawn to those hypnotic blue-grey eyes like the proverbial moth to a flame.

"What is it, sweetheart?" Ianto murmured, brushing his lips against the softness of the Doctor's mouth. "Are you thinking of Gallifrey again?"

The Doctor couldn't speak; his throat felt as though it was constricted, and any words he said would be uttered on a sob. He only nodded, closing his eyes and resting his head against Ianto's shoulder, grateful for the comfort of his young lover's arms.

"You can't let your grief over what happened overwhelm you," Ianto whispered, resting his cheek against the Doctor's hair. "You did what you had to do, Doctor. No one could blame you for that. I don't think your people would -- they knew you had no choice."

"B-but it still wasn't right," the Doctor answered, gulping back a sob as he spoke. He hated being like this, hated letting Ianto see his weakness. But there were times when it couldn't be helped; the grief was too strong to hold back.

Ianto shook his head firmly, not accepting the Doctor's words. "It was the only thing you could do. You were given a choice, and you did what was best for the rest of the universe. I know you feel guilty -- anyone would. But you can't let that guilt destroy you."

"I know," the Doctor whispered, sniffling and trying to regain control of his emotions. "You aren't the first person who's told me that, Ianto. And goodness knows I've told myself that more times than I can remember. But knowing that doesn't make it any easier to bear."

"You have to forgive yourself for it sometime," Ianto told him, his voice soft and compassionate. "I'm sure that your people would tell you that, too."

The Doctor nodded, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. Ianto was right; tears would do him no good. The past was over and done with; Gallifrey was gone, and he had to learn to accept his part in the destruction of his home.

He couldn't let himself wallow in self-pity and regrets forever. That would keep him from doing what he was meant to do -- to keep watch over the universe that Gallifrey had been sacrificed to save. It wasn't a responsibility that he took lightly.

"I know you're right," he said softly, looking up at his lover. "And I'll put it into the past -- eventually. You'll just have to learn to bear with me, Ianto. It's not something that I'm going to get over quickly. But with you here to help me, I know that I'll heal faster than if I was still alone."

Ianto's arms tightened around him, the young man leaning back against the pillows and pulling the Doctor down beside him. "I think you should try to go back to sleep," he said softly, pressing his lips against the Time Lord's forehead. "You need your rest -- and so do I."

The Doctor closed his eyes, resting his head on Ianto's chest and taking a deep breath. The grief was always going to be there, under the surface -- it would never completely go away. But with Ianto by his side, he could at least manage to keep it at bay.

He settled down beside his lover, relaxing as Ianto's strong arms pulled him close. He could feel the wave of grief receding as sleep took him over, the beating of Ianto's heart lulling him back into a sleep that was, thankfully, deep and dreamless.

***