Title: Heartache Every Moment
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Ianto Jones/Tenth Doctor
Fandom: Torchwood/Doctor Who
Rating: PG-13
Table: 11, 50episodes
Prompt: 31, Heartache
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 sat at the desk in the bedroom that he shared with the Doctor, looking over at the bed every few moments to make sure that the Time Lord still slept comfortably. He wasn't going to let the man he loved want for anything, not after all that he'd been through.

He had managed to get them both back to the Tardis safely, and they were now within the reaches of time and space, somewhere that he hoped the Master couldn't follow them to. The Tardis wasn't cloaked in any way, but still, he felt secure here.

The anger that he'd felt over what had been done to the Doctor was still within him, but he had pushed it down until it burned in the pit of his stomach, simmering slowly until he allowed it to burst into full flame again. That anger wasn't going to do either of them any good at the moment.

Besides, the Doctor wouldn't want him to carry that anger with him front and center, Ianto thought with a sigh and another glance towards the bed. The Doctor would want him to let it go, to look forward instead of back, and to live to fight another day.

They had done that, Ianto told himself, propping his chin in his hands. Now he had to compartmentalize his anger, which wasn't always easy for him to do. He'd had a hard time dealing with that vengeful side of himself when he was working with Torchwood, too.

But this was so different from being part of the Torchwood team. This wasn't just himself and his team members; it was his life, not a job. His life -- and the life of the man he loved. This was far more personal than anything he'd done with Torchwood on Earth.

If he had lost any member of the Torchwood team, anyone who was a friend, he would have been sad and hurt. But losing the Doctor to the Master's insidiousness -- that would have been a heartache that he would never have been able to get over.

If anything had happened while they were on that planet, if the Master had been able to do something that took the Doctor away from him permanently, Ianto would have found some way to exact revenge. That ache in his heart would have to be assuaged.

Fortunately, it hadn't come to that -- and Ianto was glad that it hadn't. He didn't want to immerse himself in the darkness of the Master's world if he didn't have to; he didn't want to bring himself one step closer to being anything like that monster.

He was nothing like the Master, in thought or in deed. But he knew that taking any kind of revenge, even on the person who had so wronged the Doctor and himself so many times in the past, would bring him closer to an edge that he didn't want to step near.

What had happened on that planet was bad enough -- but if it had been worse, if the Doctor had been taken from him, Ianto knew that his heartache would spill over into revenge. He wouldn't be able to hold himself back, no matter how hard he might try.

Was the Master aware of what an enemy he could be, how tenacious he was when he made up his mind about something? Probably not; he was xenophobic, like most Gallifreyans had been, and he would think that Ianto was a lower form of life, not worthy of his time or attention.

But he would find out differently, if he ever dared to lay a finger on the Doctor again, Ianto thought grimly. He could be a formidable enemy; the Master would discover that since he had become immortal, he felt that he had much less to lose in a battle.

That wasn't entirely true, was it? Ianto sighed softly, glancing once again at the bed where his lover lay. He did indeed have a lot to lose if there should be a fight and he wasn't on the winning side. He could lose the man he loved more than life itself.

Of course, now that they were both immortal, and there was no danger of the Doctor regenerating into yet another body, their future together was much more secure. But Ianto still couldn't help feeling that there would always be a danger of him losing this man in some way.

The Doctor loved him with all of his dual hearts, he was sure of that. No one had ever loved in the way that the Time Lord did; Ianto didn't doubt that love, not for one second. But there was a small kernel of doubt deep within him, telling him that their bond could break.

If he began to obsess about revenge against the Master, that could turn the Doctor against him. The Time Lord might not want to feel that way, but Ianto had the definite impression that he would turn his hearts away from anyone who evinced that sort of character trait.

He wasn't going to take that chance. He wasn't going to let himself run the risk of losing the love of the man he wanted to spend eternity with; that would be a heartache that would be with him for every moment of that eternity, a pain that would never lessen.

That kind of heartache would never cease; losing the man he loved would haunt him for all of eternity. It was a pain that he couldn't even bear to contemplate; a single lifetime without the Doctor would be awful enough, but eternity? That was an unfathomable thought.

He wasn't going to lose his lover, Ianto told himself firmly, sitting up straight in the chair and taking a deep breath. He was going to put his thoughts of revenge aside, and simply be glad that they had made it through yet another confrontation with their worst enemy.

It was going to take some time for him to get the ache of seeing what had been done to the Doctor out of his heart -- and to stop feeling guilty for not having stopped it right away. He would always blame himself for that, even though he knew that he hadn't had a choice.

If he had charged out of his hiding place, letting his anger take him over, trying to take his revenge on the Master for what he was doing then and there, he and the Doctor might both be in that monster's clutches by now. He'd had to wait until the Master had gone to rescue the Doctor.

He might never be able to forgive himself for doing that, even if he hadn't actually watched the rape take place. He'd heard it, been there and done nothing to stop it, and that was bad enough. The Doctor didn't blame him, but he would always blame himself.

Every moment of his life would be plagued by an ache in his heart that never quite went away because of that. And he might very well feel guilty about what he had let happen every time he made love to the Doctor in the future -- which would seriously harm their relationship.

He had to talk to his lover about this, get his feelings out in the open, try to cleanse himself of the guilt that he was feeling. Ianto was sure that the Doctor would think he shouldn't feel that guilt, that he had done the right thing for both of them.

The Time Lord had willingly made himself a sacrifice to ensure that Ianto would be protected, and would have the chance to get them both out of there safely. He should try to concentrate on that, and not let the guilt of not coming to his lover's rescue sooner overwhelm him.

It would be a heartache that followed him every moment of his life, no matter how hard he tried to push it to the back of his mind. And it would be something that he had to live with, a pain that he would have to try as best he could to hide from the man he loved.

Ianto sighed softly, looking over towards the bed again. The Doctor sighed in his sleep and turned over, one arm flung out as though he was reaching for Ianto, expecting his lover to be there beside him. The young man couldn't help but smile at that thought.

He should be there, in bed with the Doctor held in his arms, feeling those dual heartbeats against his own. Why was he sitting here thinking about what might be, instead of enjoying the present moment and taking full advantage of time with his lover? This was getting him nowhere.

Standing up, Ianto stretched and headed for the bed, taking off the robe that he'd wrapped around himself on the way. He slid beneath the covers, taking the Doctor into his arms, and pushing away whatever feelings of guilt still clung to him.

He couldn't let the heartache that threatened to sweep over him destroy what he had with the Doctor. If he did that, then the Master would indeed have achieved his objective -- more thoroughly than he could have ever imagined. He wouldn't let that monster win.

Closing his eyes, he settled himself comfortably against the pillows, pushing the guilt and heartache away from him. He was here, on the Tardis, with the Doctor safely in his arms. The two of them were together, and at the moment, nothing else really seemed to matter.

***