Title: Lonely in Your Nightmare
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Ianto Jones/Tenth Doctor
Fandom: Torchwood/Doctor Who
Rating: NC-17
Table: 4
Prompt: 19, Nightmare
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.

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The Doctor's scream cut through the darkened room, the sound bouncing off the walls, jerking Ianto rudely out of a sound sleep and into reality.

He sat up, blinking in the darkness, unable to fathom at first just what had woken him up. The scream came again, from beside him, muffled this time. The Doctor had buried his face in the pillow and was screaming into it, his fingers clutching the sheets, desperately trying to pull them up around his head as though he was trying to crawl beneath them and hide.

Ianto wrapped his arms around the slender Time Lord, shaking him slightly, hoping that he could rouse the Doctor from whatever nightmare he was suffering through without another scream. It usually didn't happen; the Doctor was deeply asleep when he had these kinds of dreams, and it was always several long moments before Ianto was able to wake him.

As he'd expected, the Time Lord screamed again, turning over and trying to push him away. He caught the Doctor's hands, pulling his love against his own body, trying to wake him and soothe him at the same time -- and not being very successful at either.

"Ow!" The Doctor had managed to jam one knee nearly into Ianto's balls; if he hadn't known that the Time Lord was deep in the throes of a nightmare that must be truly frightening, he'd have been angry about that. It would be a bit uncomfortable if he had to start wearing a codpiece to bed to protect his family jewels from his lover's nightmares.

"Doctor, wake up!" Ianto's voice was loud, authoritative. Most of the time, if the gentle shaking didn't work, the words did. The Doctor was starting to come out of the dream; his eyes snapped open, wide with terror.

"Shhh, love, it's all right. It's only me." Ianto gathered the trembling Time Lord into his arms, letting the Doctor press himself against his body, realizing for the first time that the other man was ice cold, his skin clammy to the touch. He frowned, fear licking at his mind. Was this some sort of Gallifreyan sickness that he wasn't prepared to fight?

The Doctor was clinging to him as if he was the only thing keeping him from sinking into a sea of quicksand, his thin arms wrapped around Ianto's waist in a death grip. He still hadn't spoken; his face was pale, ashen, his teeth chattering, his body shaking -- whether from fear or cold, Ianto didn't know.

But it wasn't cold in their bedroom, he thought to himself. In fact, it was rather warm, so much so that he'd taken one of the quilts off the bed. There was no reason for the Doctor to be half-frozen.

Ianto kept the Time Lord wrapped in his arms, murmuring soft words against the Doctor's hair. The Gallifreyan's hearts were galloping, thudding against his chest with such force that Ianto wouldn't have been surprised if they'd burst out of his chest. The Doctor's trembling hadn't abated when he'd woken; if anything, it was more pronounced now, his skin covered with a thin sheen of sweat, clammy on his chilled flesh.

"He knew this would happen," the Doctor finally whispered, his voice hoarse from his earlier screams. "He knew that he'd haunt my dreams. He knew I'd not be able to exorcise everything, no matter how hard I tried. I knew he wouldn't give up having me that easily."

"The Master." Ianto's voice was flat and emotionless; he'd had his own close encounters with that monster since he'd become intimate with the Doctor. Each time he'd been face-to-face with that kind of evil, he'd come away feeling as though he'd have to scrub his skin off to make himself feel clean again.

The Doctor nodded, burying his face against Ianto's chest and gulping back tears. Ianto's arms tightened around the distraught Time Lord; with all his heart, he wished that he knew a way to stop these nightmares, banish them from the Doctor's mind for all time. They were getting increasingly worse each night, and the lack of sleep was telling on the Doctor.

Ianto couldn't help but notice the dark circles under his love's eyes, the pallor of his skin, the nervousness whenever he was touched. It seemed like forever since they'd had a night of uninterrupted sleep, though in fact it had only been a little over a week.

And it also seemed like forever since they'd made love, a little voice whispered insinuatingly in the back of his mind. The Doctor was still too skittish about being touched, and Ianto didn't blame him, after the separate encounters they'd each had with the Master.

"It's all right, love. I'm here," he whispered, not knowing what else to say. He could only hope that his words would comfort the Doctor in some way, let the Gallifreyan know that he was there if he was needed.

The Doctor seemed to be increasingly jittery as the days went by, Ianto told himself as he moved his hands soothingly down the Time Lord's back, trying to calm him. It was as if each nightmare was worse than the ones that had gone before -- and he feared for the Doctor's continuing sanity if they kept on at the rate they were going.

His heart sank as another thought crossed his mind. What if the only way to end these dreams was to confront the Master again -- to literally hand the Doctor over to him in some way? He couldn't do that. He wouldn't. Over his dead body would that perverted creature ever lay a finger on his love again.

"Don't," the Doctor whispered, his voice weak and tired. "Ianto, if that's the only way to stop this, then I have no choice. I have to offer myself up to him, if that's what he wants."

"No. No!" The word was sharp, taking on a frantic, brittle edge, Ianto's voice rising in sudden panic. "I won't let you do that. I won't let him touch you. He can take me, he can do anything he wants to me. But he isn't going to violate you again. He's not getting anywhere near you."

"Ianto." The Doctor's voice was hoarse, broken, his tone resigned, almost pleading. "It isn't your decision to make."

Ianto didn't speak; he knew in his heart that the Doctor was right. He wasn't the one who was suffering from these increasingly horrifying nightmares; he didn't even know what it was that terrified the Doctor to the point where he woke up screaming.

No, he thought bitterly, he was only the person who loved the Doctor more than life itself. The one whose heart was torn out at the thought of the man he loved having to suffer through this torture that the Master had somehow managed to devise for him.

"He's determined to have me," the Time Lord whispered, his voice weak and trembling. "And at this point, I don't see that I have much choice but to give him what he wants."

"And me?" Ianto whispered. "What happens to me when he gets what he wants?"

"Hopefully, you get me back," the Doctor replied, closing his eyes and resting his head against Ianto's chest. "In one piece, with my sanity intact. He has to know that no matter what he does, he can't sever our bond. It's too late for that. It was too late from the moment I met you."

"So where does that leave us?" Ianto whispered, his voice as broken as the Doctor's. "Do we just hope that we'll be able to pick up the pieces when he's decided that he's done with you?"

"He'll never be done with me, Ianto." The Doctor's words caught on a sob, his arms wrapping around Ianto's waist and holding on to his young lover for dear life. "He'll never stop pushing my limits, trying to break through my boundaries. He's done this for centuries, and I'm not fool enough to think that it's ever going to stop. Not until --"

"Don't say it," Ianto begged, placing gentle fingertips against the Doctor's mouth. He couldn't bear to think of the Doctor dead, his love's body lying lifeless somewhere in the galaxy -- somewhere that Ianto couldn't get to him.

He couldn't bear to think of having to bid the Doctor a last farewell.

"I'm coming with you," he finally said, praying that the Doctor wouldn't fight him on this. "When it comes down to a confrontation, you won't go into it alone. I won't allow it."

"No, Ianto." The Doctor raised his head, his steady gaze meeting the younger man's eyes. "I have to do this alone, no matter what the cost to me. I can't risk losing you. Not like that."

"Nor I you." Ianto raised a hand to cup the Doctor's cheek, trying to keep his voice from trembling when he spoke. "If anything happens to you, I want to be there. I want to know that I've lost you. I don't want to wonder. I don't want to go through the rest of my life with an empty heart."

"Ianto, he'll use you against me. He'll do anything he can to break me down. And seeing you harmed would do that more quickly than any kind of torture he could inflict on me," the Doctor whispered. "Don't you see? I can't let that happen. I have to know that you're safe, that he won't be able to touch you."

"Do you think that I would have a life if I lose you?" Ianto's voice rose, terror making it sound high-pitched and frantic. "No, I wouldn't. I won't let you walk into something that could take you away from me without being right there beside you. If he takes you -- then he takes me, as well. We're soul mates, Doctor. Whatever you face, I face it with you."

"I ...." The Doctor fell silent, considering Ianto's words. Finally, he nodded, looking reluctant but realizing the truth of his lover's words.

They were in this together. No matter what the Master did, he couldn't tear them apart. And if it came down to dying for each other, then they would both gladly make that final sacrifice.

"Thank you, Ianto." The Doctor's words were barely a breath of sound. "I couldn't face this alone. Without you, I wouldn't have the strength to even try. I would have given up already. But with you .... maybe I can make it through whatever comes. You give me hope."

Ianto didn't say a word; he only turned the Doctor's face to his own, cupping the Time Lord's jaw and kissing him as though he was pouring everything of his heart and soul into the meeting of their lips.

The Doctor was the first to break the kiss, closing his eyes and resting his cheek against Ianto's chest. He laid one hand there, feeling his young lover's heartbeat under his palm, and praying that it wouldn't be silenced by following him into the unknown.

"So what do we do now?" Ianto's voice was low, fearful. His hold on the Doctor tightened, as if by clinging to his love, he could somehow keep the future from approaching much more quickly than he wanted it to.

"We wait." The Doctor sounded just as fearful as Ianto felt. "We wait for him to make another move. I doubt it will be much longer before he decides to make his presence known, and make some sort of demand."

Ianto nodded, a shiver passing over his body, clutching the Doctor closer against him. He pulled the covers up around them, suddenly feeling a wave of coldness wash over him. Coldness. And darkness.

Both men fell silent, each of them lost in their own thoughts until sleep overtook them -- this time, a deep and thankfully dreamless slumber.

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