Title: Freak Show
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Ianto Jones/Tenth Doctor
Fandom: Doctor Who/Torchwood
Rating: PG-13
Table: 5
Prompt: 23, Freak
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the Tenth Doctor or Jack Harkness. Please do not sue.

***

Ianto turned to the Doctor as they exited the small shop, keeping a firm hand on the bag he was carrying. His other hand was extended to the Time Lord; ever since a little escapade a few days before -- during which he'd had a panic, thinking that the Doctor had disappeared into the crowd -- he hated to be separated from the Gallifreyan in public.

It wasn't that he was being paranoid, he told himself, reaching for the Doctor's hand and breathing a soft sigh of relief when the Time Lord's long, thin fingers curled around his own. The Doctor had a disconcerting habit of catching a glimpse of something in a shop window and wandering off to have a closer look -- without telling Ianto. There had already been two incidences when he'd nearly had a heart attack from turning around to discover that the Doctor wasn't directly behind him on the sidewalk.

It looked as though that wasn't going to happen again, which was a good thing in Ianto's eyes. Besides, he said to himself, glancing around him at the people on the street, he liked to have the gorgeous Time Lord's hand in his own -- there was nothing wrong with a bit of proprietary showing off, letting everyone in the vicinity know that this beautiful man belonged with him.

Ianto stopped at the street corner, squinting up at the light that had just flashed a don't walk signal. The Doctor's presence beside him somehow seemed to cancel out the rest of the world; when he turned to look at the man he loved, the soft smile that curved those sensual lips, the sheen of the Doctor's skin, the affection in those dark eyes focused on his own, seemed to fill his vision until they were the only beings left in the world.

He couldn't stop himself from leaning over slightly to let his lips brush against the softness of the Time Lord's mouth; even that brief contact sent a shiver of anticipation through his body. Ianto was sure that he'd have the Doctor sequestered in the room that he'd come to think of as their bedroom within ten minutes of getting home.

"Fucking faggots," he heard someone mutter behind them. "Goddamn freak." One hand shot out, shoving the Doctor hard enough to make the tall, slender Gallifreyan stumble slightly and fall against his lover.

Ianto opened his mouth to make a tart remark, annoyed that anyone could possibly have a hard time accepting the sight of two men showing affection in public. Before he could speak, the sign changed to a blinking green circle, the word walk sending everyone on the sidewalk at a near jog into the crosswalk.

The young man stepped off the sidewalk to hurry to the other side, almost reaching the curb before realizing that his hand was empty -- the Doctor was no longer right behind him.

Ianto whirled around, his eyes anxiously searching the opposite side of the street for any sign of the Doctor. The Time Lord was nowhere to be seen. Ianto raised his hand to his face, shading his eyes as he began to frantically search through the crowd.

Where was he? And why had he suddenly disappeared?

Without waiting for the light to change again, Ianto ran to the other side of the street, looking around him in a panic. Where was the Doctor? Surely he couldn't have been afraid to cross the street?

No, that was a ridiculous thought. The Doctor wasn't a child to be stricken by some sort of irrational fear of crowds, or of stepping across the road.

But yet .... he wasn't here.

Ianto stood on the sidewalk, looking around himself and feeling a suffocating sense of panic rise in his throat, threatening to choke him. He had to find the Doctor. Of course, the Time Lord was perfectly capable of taking care of himself. Perhaps he'd just decided to go off on his own -- but no. He wouldn't have done that without saying something.

Or perhaps he'd heard those crude words that had certainly been aimed at the two of them.

A wave of anger swept over Ianto, an overpowering urge to find the man who'd muttered those hateful words and beat him into a bloody pulp. With difficulty, he restrained himself, the only outward sign of his anger the clenching of his fist at his side.

Would those words have been enough to send the Doctor fleeing off somewhere?

Ianto sighed, his shoulders drooping as he considered what else had happened. It wasn't just the words. That man had physically shoved himself into the Doctor's personal space -- something that he knew the Time Lord didn't particularly care for. That had to be what had made him decide to separate himself from Ianto.

The only thing he could do was go back home, he told himself, fighting the panic down and turning in the direction of his apartment. There was nothing that he could do other than go home and hope that the Doctor came home soon.

Head down, he walked nearly two blocks before he stopped suddenly in the middle of the sidewalk, turning around to look at the crowds milling around him in the busy streets. What in the hell was he doing? He had to look around him, look for the Doctor, hope that he could locate his lover before he got to his apartment building.

The next three blocks were traversed with all his senses on alert, trying to look in every direciton at once and praying under his breath that he would see the Doctor somewhere. But to Ianto's despair, the Time Lord was nowhere to be seen.

By the time the young man reached his apartment, he was already pulling out his cell phone, pressing the button to dial Jack's number -- though he had no idea just what he'd say to his boss when Jack picked up the phone. Somehow, "I lost the Doctor, can you help me find him?" didn't sound like a plea that would garner much sympathy -- or help.

Ianto looked down at the doorknob, pausing in the act of pulling his keys out of his pocket. What he saw made his breath catch in his throat, and sent every nerve in his body taut and straining.

The door was just slightly ajar -- as though someone had gotten into the apartment and hadn't bothered to close the door behind them.

Ianto slipped through the door, setting the bag he was carrying down as quietly as possible and making his way cautiously to the bedroom at the back of the place. He didn't hear sounds coming from the room, but he couldn't be too careful. Pulling his gun out, he paused at the doorway -- then entered the room, pointing the gun in front of him, cocked and loaded.

His eyes widened, his body almost sagging against the doorframe in relief. The Doctor looked over at him from where he was sitting on the floor in front of the large picture window, eyes wide and startled.

Pocketing his gun, Ianto made his way across the room, sitting down on the floor behind the Doctor and pulling his love back against his chest. He could feel tears rising to his eyes; he'd never felt so relieved to see anyone in his life. He let out a breath that he hadn't realized he was holding when the Doctor settled back against his chest, the other man's body warm and pliant in his arms.

"Why did you leave?" he whispered, when he could trust his voice not to sound shaky. The Doctor shook his head, turning his face against Ianto's throat and closing his eyes. Ianto's arms tightened around his love, holding the Doctor close as if trying to protect him.

"Freak," the Doctor finally whispered, his voice sounding hoarse and barely audible. "How I hate that word. I hate it more than you could possibly know."

"You aren't a freak," Ianto answered, resting his cheek against the softness of the Doctor's hair. "Don't listen to what anyone says. Just ignore them. You're worth a million of them."

"I'm not human," the Time Lord whispered, the words thick and choked. "I'm not what you need."

"Don't say that," Ianto managed to get out, the last word ending in a sound suspiciously like a sob. "You're all I'll ever need. All I'll ever want."

Ianto placed his hand over the Doctor's chest, pressing his palm against the Time Lord's body. He could feel the dual heartbeats, their beating strong and even under his hand. "These are mine," he whispered, his voice gathering strength as he spoke.

"What happens when you finally realize that I can't be like everyone else in your life?" the Doctor said, lifting dark eyes to look into Ianto's face. The Gallifreyan's long lashes were like shreds of wet satin, Ianto thought as his eyes met the Doctor's. No man should be so beautiful.

Ianto's lips trailed along the slender column of the Doctor's throat, his words soft but strong and decisive. "I don't want you to be like everyone else. I don't want you to be human. I only want you to be exactly who you are. The man I've fallen in love with."

The Doctor managed a wan smile, slumping against Ianto. "Even if people refer to me as a freak?"

Ianto raised a hand, turning the Doctor's face to the side and meeting the Time Lord's lips with his own. "If you are, then I am as well," he murmured against his love's mouth.

The Doctor seemed to consider Ianto's words, finally nodding and relaxing into the young man's arms. Ianto could feel the tension go out of the Time Lord's body, and he fervently hoped that the words which had apparently upset the Doctor so much wouldn't be something they'd have to deal with again.

"I suppose it's far better to be two against one than one against the world," the Gallifreyan whispered, raising a hand to trace the outline of his lover's lips with his index finger.

"I'd defy the world to be with you," Ianto said softly, holding the Time Lord's gaze with his own.

The Doctor gave him a look that Ianto could only interpret as strange, but he refrained from mentioning it. There would be plenty of time later to probe for an explanation of exactly what the Time Lord had meant.

"Let's hope that isn't ever put to the test, my love," he whispered, leaning his head against Ianto's shoulder. "I wouldn't want you to have to make a choice that you'd rather not be faced with."

The words made a shiver run down the Welshman's spine. What could the Doctor mean by that?

Ianto firmly pushed the burgeoning worry away, out of his mind; it was, after all, much easier to do that. To file the things that he didn't want to think about in the back of his mind, to be taken out and scrutinized later. When he had more time for them.

Time.

Ianto only hoped that was something he'd never run out of.

***