Title: Silver and Cold
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Ianto Jones/Tenth Doctor
Fandom: Torchwood/Doctor Who
Rating: PG-13
Table: 3
Prompt: 24, Silver
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 turned over onto his stomach, one hand automatically reaching out to curl around the warmth of the Doctor's slender body laying next to him. He was jerked awake when his hand met emptiness; the Doctor wasn't in their bed, wasn't next to him as he always was whenever Ianto happened to wake in the night.

He turned over onto his back, wide-open eyes staring up at the ceiling. A soft sigh whispered around the room, a feeling of hopelessness settling over him. This was happening more and more lately; the Doctor was always restless in the night, not just because of his nightmares, but because of the wanderlust that was starting to consume him.

They'd talked about this, more than once. It had been decided that they'd go -- but somehow, it hadn't happened yet. There was always something to keep them back, some little thing that made them stay here, in the confines of Ianto's apartment, for "just one more night." This was only another night in a long litany that never seemed to end.

Ianto was becoming increasingly worried about the Doctor; he could sense the restlessness in the Time Lord, the controlled tension building up within his lover's body. He'd tried to find ways to combat that restlessness: making love to the Doctor until he was fucked out, dazed and sated, so tired that he could barely move, much less think of leaving.

That would have worked, Ianto told himself wryly, if only his soul mate wasn't a multi-orgasmic man who would still be begging for release long after Ianto had passed out under a table. Still, it had been worth a try -- and he'd definitely had a good time experimenting to find out just where the Doctor's limits were.

So far, he hadn't found any. Not in that direction, anyway.

Ianto frowned, chewing at his lower lip. The Doctor didn't respond to him lately in the same way that he had when they'd first met -- in fact, his appetite for sex seemed to have diminished. It wasn't something that would make Ianto worry with any other man -- but this wasn't just any man. This was the Doctor -- and conclusions drawn about a human male could be thrown out of the window when they concerned him.

The young Welshman sat up in bed, throwing aside the covers and swinging his legs out of their bed. He was fairly sure that the Doctor was still in the apartment; the Time Lord has promised that he wouldn't leave, not without Ianto's knowledge of his going. And it had been tacitly understood between them that the Doctor wouldn't leave without him.

A sudden fear gripped Ianto as he headed towards the door and padded down the carpeted hallway. What if the Doctor had decided that it wasn't a good idea for him to go along, after all? What if he'd left, gone somewhere that Ianto couldn't follow him? What if something happened, and his love was trapped in some faraway galaxy and time forever, unable to make it back to him?

He tried to calm his racing heart, clenching one fist and closing his eyes as he leaned against the wall for support. The Doctor wouldn't leave. He'd promised, after all. And the Gallifreyan wasn't a man to break his promises. Some of them, yes -- when it was unavoidable. But Ianto was sure that he wouldn't break a promise made to him.

Ianto paused in the doorway of the living room, his heart settling back into his chest, holding back a sob of relief. He should have known that the Doctor wouldn't leave; how could he have thought anything like that about his lover? The Doctor was there, standing in front of the picture window, looking out at the night sky that covered the city of Cardiff.

He let his eyes roam over the Doctor's nude body, taking in every curve, every line. Each time he looked at the Doctor, whether clothed or naked, he could hardly believe that such a stunningly beautiful man had chosen him. Plain, insignificant Ianto Jones, who'd always been so sure that no one ever noticed him.

Yet, he'd managed to draw the attention of this man -- not only drawn his attention, but somehow captured his heart. Hearts, Ianto told himself, letting a soft smile curve his lips upwards. He always forgot that the Gallifreyan was anatomically different. It was a difference that didn't bother him; the Doctor was much like him in all the ways that mattered.

The Time Lord still hadn't noticed him; Ianto was able to feast his eyes on that beautiful body outlined by the glow of the moonlight in the window. The Doctor's body was lighted with a silvery sheen; the glow illuminated his slender limbs, his alabaster skin gleaming with an inner light. It took all of Ianto's self-control not to moan from merely looking at him.

Ianto couldn't stand there by the door, not when such a tempting sight was within a few feet of his grasp. He moved silently across the room with feline grace, coming to stand behind the Doctor and wrapping his arms around the Time Lord's slim waist. He was gratified when the Doctor sank back against his chest with a sigh, his small hands resting over Ianto's.

He was shocked by how thin and fragile the Doctor's body felt in his arms -- and more than a little worried. The Gallifreyan hadn't seemed this frail when they were in bed together, but now, standing in front of Ianto, his lover's arms encircling his thin frame, he felt almost too fragile to be a part of this world.

The Doctor had always seemed to be some sort of ephemeral, ethereal creature who could easily disappear when Ianto wasn't looking, slip out of his life with the same ease that he'd entered it. But as their bond had deepened and time had passed, Ianto knew that there was no way the Doctor could fade away without his knowledge. The Time Lord was too much a part of him.

Ianto bit his lip, considering his options. He didn't want to mention to the Doctor that he was worried about the Time Lord's state of health; that would more than likely only prompt some kind of defensiveness, and that wasn't anything that Ianto wanted to deal with, at least not tonight. But he had to say something. He was too concerned not to.

Finally, he spoke, measuring his words carefully even as they came out. "Are you feeling all right, love? You seem a bit upset about something." It wasn't exactly what he wanted to say, but it would have to do; he was trying to be as cautious as possible about what he said, as the Time Lord didn't seem to be in a very receptive mood.

The Doctor sighed softly, the fingers of one small hand twining through Ianto's hand where it rested on his bare stomach. "No, love, I'm not," he said softly, shaking his head. "I don't want you to worry, Ianto. But .... being here, too long in one time and place .... it's killing me. I'm .... fading. Burning away from the inside out."

His voice dropped, became only a murmur, barely audible in the still air of the room. Ianto had to bow his head to hear the words; his heart seemed to leap into his throat, then sink to his heels. Of all the things the Doctor could have said, this was something he hadn't expected to hear. His love couldn't be .... dying. No. It wasn't possible.

"It's as if .... there's a small part of who I am that's burnt away every day. Every hour .... it's like there's a pain growing inside me that gets worse and worse, until it's almost blinding in its intensity." The Doctor pressed his cheek against Ianto's chest, swallowing hard. "It's a fire that won't burn out until it consumes me. And yet .... I'm cold. So cold."

Ianto clutched at the Doctor protectively, tears springing to his eyes, tears that he had to blink several times to keep from spilling over. "What can I do to stop it?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady. He wasn't going to cry. No. He was going to help his love in any way he could, no matter what he had to do.

"Get me to the Tardis," the Doctor whispered, leaning back against Ianto. His thin, fragile body seemed to grow more frail with each moment that passed; Ianto could swear that he could literally feel the hourglass sands of the Doctor's life shifting and dissipating. "Now, Ianto. As quickly as you can. It can't be put off any longer."

"I .... I need to be with you," Ianto whispered, his voice breaking on the words. If the Doctor was going to die, there on the Tardis, Ianto wasn't going to let him go alone. He would be there, every second until the end, watching his future die and fade away, feeling his heart break little by little until there was nothing left, nothing but a hollow space in his chest.

"You will be, my love," the Time Lord told him, raising his head slightly to look into Ianto's eyes. "You're just as much a part of my life as the Tardis is. I need you both, Ianto. You're what's kept me alive for such an extended period of time. But our bond is still in its nascent stages, love. You can only do so much."

"Then I'll get you there. Tonight, now." Ianto leaned down to hook one strong arm under the Doctor's knees, lifting the frail Time Lord into his arms and turning to carry him back down the hall to the bedroom. "To hell with taking anything. I'm just going to get us both dressed, and get to the Tardis. Anything else can wait until later, when you're stronger."

The Doctor nodded, his head resting against Ianto's shoulder as he was carried down the hall and deposited on the bed. "I'll miss this place, you know. But I've always known that my stay here was only temporary. I didn't want to leave like this, Ianto. I wanted it to be easy for you to go. But sometimes, the things we must do are always the hardest ones to put into motion."

Ianto pulled on his clothes quickly, grabbing a case as the Doctor was pulling on his shirt and pants -- the suit that he usually wore when he wasn't at home with Ianto. He threw a few of their clothes into it, then wrapped an arm around the Doctor's thin waist and guided his love towards the door, down the hallway and into the living room again.

For the last time, he took a look around his apartment. Jack had already told him that it would be no problem to pay the rent when he was gone. How it would happen, Ianto didn't know, but he trusted Jack. And Jack would understand why they'd had to leave. This might even be the reason he'd insisted that they go in the first place. He'd known more than Ianto had.

This was going to be an adventure. It wasn't what he'd thought he would be doing with his life -- who could even begin to imagine that they would end up traveling in time and space with a Time Lord? -- but it was something that he couldn't help looking forward to. There was no telling what would happen, how exciting it could be.

And he would have the Doctor by his side. His beloved, his soul mate.

Turning to the Doctor, he took the Time Lord's hand in his, squeezing it gently. "Let's go, beloved," he said softly, sliding his arm around the Doctor as the two of them headed out of the door, the Doctor locking it for the last time. "At least we'll have this place to come back to, whenever we might need it."

The Doctor nodded, giving him a slight smile as the two of them made their way to the elevator, waiting for it in silence before the door dinged open. When they entered the elevator, Ianto firmly pushed the button for the lobby floor, not looking back as the doors closed.

***