Title: Brief Candles
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Ianto Jones/Tenth Doctor
Fandom: Torchwood/Doctor Who
Rating: PG-13
Table: 4
Prompt: 21, Forever
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 woke with a start, eyes snapping open. He sat up in bed, instinctively reaching for the Doctor. It took him a moment to realize that the Time Lord wasn't there.

He was wide awake instantly, searching the room with anxious eyes.

The young man's heart clenched painfully in his chest, a gasp coming from his throat. Was this how it ended, then? The Doctor leaving, in the night, without a word, without a sign, giving him no reason for their parting?

He pressed a hand to his chest, gulping back the scream that he could feel building in his throat. The Doctor wouldn't leave him. Not like this. There was too much between them -- too much understanding, too much shared experience, too much love. The Doctor had promised him forever -- and Ianto was positive that he meant to keep that promise.

He pulled the covers back, swinging his long legs over the side of the bed and standing a little shakily. Just the thought of losing the Doctor made him feel weak, dizzy, drained. He made his way across the room, almost grabbing the back of a chair for support.

Ianto straightened up, blinking, trying to push his fears to the back of his mind. This wasn't going to do him any good. If the Doctor had left, then it was more than likely for some good reason, and he would return. And if there was another reason .... then he would have to find out what it was.

He padded down the hallway on bare feet, making no sound on the heavy carpet as he paused to lean against the door frame of the large room. He wanted to sigh with relief at the sight that greeted his eyes; he could just make out the tall, slender form of the Doctor, standing by the picture window, looking out over the twinkling lights of nighttime Cardiff.

Ianto stood there for what seemed like a long time, studying the Doctor, wondering just what was going on in that intricate mind, behind those deep brown eyes. It was strange that the Doctor could so easily close him out of those thoughts when he wanted to, and at other times, Ianto could see into his mind as thought it were a plate-glass window.

Of course, the Doctor had plenty of practice at cloaking his mind, he told himself, trying to relax in spite of the pricklings of premonition that raised the hairs on the back of his neck. He had a very bad feeling about this; it wasn't like the Doctor to leave their bed without a word, to stand in here shivering and alone.

The Time Lord was shivering; Ianto could see the goosebumps on his flesh, could almost feel that thin body quivering even from where he stood across the room. He crossed the floor to stand behind the Doctor, finally reaching for the slender Time Lord and sliding his arms around his waist.

The Doctor leaned back against him, apparently not at all surprised that his lover had come to find him once his absence had been discovered.

"What is it, sweetheart?" Ianto whispered, stroking a gentle hand through the Doctor's soft hair. "Why did you feel that you needed to run away from me?"

The Doctor didn't answer; his trembling only intensified, and it took Ianto a moment to realize that he was crying, silent tears that streaked silvery paths down his cheeks in the moonlight.

Ianto didn't say anything; there was nothing he could say when he didn't know what was wrong. Whatever was making the Doctor cry, it was obviously something that had been distressing enough to drive him from their bed without being able to talk to him about it. He simply turned the Doctor to face him, letting the Time Lord lean against him and cry into his chest.

"I'm so tired of this, Ianto," the Doctor whispered, his voice choked with sobs. "I'm so tired of being promised forever and ...."

"And what, my love?" the young Welshman inquired, voice soft with love and compassion. "Please tell me, beloved. You don't have to bear the weight of this alone, you know. You have me."

"Do I?" The Doctor lifted his head and looked up at Ianto, his dark eyes searching the young man's face almost frantically. "For how long, Ianto? A few years? A few decades? How long before it's over, and I'm alone again? How long before you decide you don't want me, just like everyone else does?"

"Never," Ianto murmured into the Doctor's hair, pressing a kiss to the top of the Time Lord's head as it was bowed again. "When I promised you forever, I meant it. I don't make empty promises that I won't keep."

"They all promised me that," the Doctor gulped, his tears still falling, his small hands clutching at Ianto's shoulders as if he was drowning and Ianto was some sort of life raft. "All the companions. Even Jack. He promised me forever .... and then he left."

"I'm not a companion," Ianto whispered, trying his best to sound calm, to soothe the fears of the man he loved. He'd never seen the Doctor like this, reduced to tears, almost wailing in his distress. "I'm your soul mate, Doctor. I'm different from anyone you've ever known."

"They all leave me. Everyone does. I .... I keep having these horrid dreams. Dreams where you leave, where I'm taken from you and I can't find my way back." The Doctor lifted his face to Ianto's again, his eyes wide with fear. The haunted look he saw there cut into Ianto's heart.

"Shhh, beloved," he murmured, holding the Time Lord close against his body and trying to soothe him, feeling the rapid thudding of the dual heartbeats against his chest. "I'm not going anywhere. Those dreams are just that -- dreams. They aren't real. They can't hurt you unless you give them the power to do it."

"Don't leave me," the Doctor whispered, his thin arms wrapping around Ianto's waist in a viselike grip. "Please don't leave me. Promise me you won't."

"Never, my love. Never," Ianto whispered into the Doctor's ear, wishing that he didn't feel so helpless, that he had some way of reassuring the Doctor that his fears were groundless. He hadn't realized that the Time Lord had so many abandonment issues, but it was hardly surprising.

After all, he'd spent decades -- centuries -- forging bonds with people who always inevitably left him, Ianto told himself. For one reason or another, no one had ever stayed. They only thought of themselves, of what they wanted and needed, and not the centuries of loneliness that their actions condemned the Doctor to.

"They're all brief candles, Ianto." The Doctor's voice was hoarse, cracked, thick with tears. "They burn for a while, then they go out and it's all dark again. It's always been dark. Until I found you, I didn't think I'd ever find my way out of that blackness."

"What we have isn't merely a candle, my love." Ianto tilted the Time Lord's face up to his, pressing gentle kisses on his mouth, his closed eyelids, his cheeks, finally back to those soft lips again. "And it isn't going to gutter out any time soon. I won't leave you, beloved. If you know nothing else about me, you should know that I don't give my heart lightly."

"I know," the Doctor whispered, leaning against Ianto, sniffling softly. His tears had stopped, at least for the moment, and Ianto could feel his hearts slowing to a more normal rhythm.

"You're chasing ghosts, sweetheart," the young man said softly, one hand moving up the Doctor's back in a gentle caress across his bare skin. "You've nothing to be afraid of. Not with me."

The Doctor nodded, resting his forehead against Ianto's chest again, still sniffling a little but calmer than he'd been a few moments ago. Ianto stroked a hand through his hair, speaking in a soft, soothing voice.

"I think we should go back to bed. You need to get some sleep, try to put your mind at ease." He raised the Doctor's face to his own again, searching his love's eyes, trying to project his own sincerity into the Doctor's mind. "I'll be here when you wake up, beloved. I promise."

The Doctor nodded, letting Ianto turn him around and slip an arm around his slender waist to guide him back down the hall to their bedroom. Ianto let the Doctor get into bed first, while he stopped to light one of the scented candles that were always on the small table next to the bed.

Ianto pulled back the covers and slipped beneath them, pulling the Doctor close against him and letting the Time Lord settle comfortably in his arms. Within a few moments, the Doctor's slow, steady breathing told his young lover that he was asleep -- though for how long was debatable.

Ianto laid there for what seemed like a long time, cradling the Doctor's fragile form in his arms and staring into the heart of the candle. When his eyes finally did close, his own dreams were clouded with vague fears -- the same fears that invaded the Doctor's dreams each night.

Beside them on the table, the candle sputtered, a slight breeze from out of nowhere trying to snuff out the small flame cupped within the glass walls of the candle jar.

The flame sputtered once, twice -- but kept burning, as though it was determined not to be extinguished.

***