Title: On the Inside
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Ianto Jones/Tenth Doctor
Fandom: Torchwood/Doctor Who
Rating: R
Table: 1, 10_hurt_comfort
Prompt: 6, Pain
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.

***


The Doctor whimpered softly as he turned over onto his side, trying to find some positon that he could lie in that didn't hurt. It didn't seem possible; every part of his body ached, and he was positive that he hurt in places that he hadn't known existed.

The Master certainly hadn't been in an agreeable mood this time around, he told himself, wincing as he shifted his body to take the weight off his bruised hip. No, he'd been angry, like a petulant child who'd been told that he can't play with his favorite toy.

And he'd taken that anger out on the Doctor. Or rather, on his body. The Time Lord was sure that the Master would have done the same to anyone who'd been around him; he'd just happened to step into the wrong place at what was definitely the wrong time.

Well, he'd paid the price for it. And barely gotten out intact. But thanks to Ianto -- as well as Jack and the rest of the Torchwood team -- he was here, safe in Ianto's flat.

Not that the Master couldn't eventually find him here, if he chose to look. The thought occurred to the Doctor out of the blue, making him frown, a frisson of fear running through his slender frame, making him shudder and pull the covers more closely around himself.

The Master always seemed to be able to track him down, no matter where he chose to hide. It was really rather disconcerting, how well that man seemed to know him. Almost as though they were .... connected, in some strange way.

He shuddered again, closing his eyes and making a concentrated mental effort to push the thought away from his mind. He didn't want to think of himself as being bound to the Master in any way. Not now, not after what he'd so recently been through.

Ianto certainly wouldn't want him thinking that way. Jack had to restrain the young man from going after the other Gallifreyan after they'd brought the Doctor here, and it was only by their combined efforts that Ianto managed to calm down and agree not to do anything stupid.

Going after the Master would not only be stupid, but in Ianto's case, suicidal, the Doctor told himself dryly. He wouldn't know how to handle himself against a monster like that, and there was no doubt that such an encounter would end badly.

He wasn't going to risk his lover. As far as he was concerned, he'd keep Ianto here if he had to get Jack to lock the young Welshman into the flat, or even tie him to a chair.

At least he wasn't muttering about that any more, scowling whenever the Master's name was brought up. The Doctor didn't blame Ianto for being angry, but it made him worry that the young man was so bent on revenge.

He propped himself up on one elbow, biting his lip as a searing pain knifed through his side. There were bruises everywhere -- that was what hurt, the bruises and the marks that the Master's iron-tipped whip had left on his skin. But they were startng to fade, thankfully.

Each time the two of them met, the Doctor had the feeling that he came away with a little more of who he was stripped away from him, a little less of his pride in one piece. But that was negligible, compared to the havoc that the Master had wreaked on his body.

The other man had taunted him when he'd been bound and gagged in that dank, dark prison, at the mercy of a madman with a whip in his hand. All he'd been able to think was that those words were right -- by the time the Master was finished with him, Ianto wouldn't want him any more.

Fortunately, those words hadn't been true -- as he'd known in heart that they wouldn't be. Ianto would never leave him, even if his body had been scarred. The bond between them went far beyond the physical.

But he was getting older, even though he hadn't been in this body for as long as he'd had some of his others. His body was young, yes -- but his spirit, his essence, wasn't. Not any more.

Maybe that was having some effect on the healing process. He was healing well, yes, and he was sure that there wouldn't be much to show for what the Master had put him through. But it was taking more time than it usually did.

He sighed, leaning back against the pillows again and clenching his teeth on a moan when the movement seemed to irritate every bruise and whip mark slashed across his back. Yes, he was getting older. There was no denying that.

Pain had never been something he enjoyed, neither the physical nor the emotional. And the Master was adept at dishing out both of them -- especially to him. This time, he'd outdone himself in the physical aspect. Thank goodness it hadn't lasted for longer than it had.

He'd been nearly at the breaking point, almost ready to concede defeat and do or say whatever the Master wanted -- as long as the pain would stop. He hated himself for being so weak, so ready to break and give the other man what he wanted.

That was part of the source of his pain now. The knowledge that he'd allowed himself to weaken, to become so much less than what he should be in order to save himself.

He had no right to that kind of weakness. He was a Time Lord. If he couldn't stand up to any kind of pain without thinking of the universe first and himself last, then he had no right ot the title. He was letting not only himself down, but anyone who'd ever believed in him.

The physical pain was nothing compared to that, the Doctor told himself, letting out another groan as he turned onto his other side. It was obviously going to be a while before he could settle down comfortably, given the way he was feeling now.

He looked up as Ianto entered the room, hoping that the sounds of pain he'd made hadn't been the source of that worried look on his young lover's face. But they undoubtedly were; he could see the concern written plainly on Ianto's features.

"Are you all right, love?" Ianto's voice was soft and husky, the love and concern obvious in his tone as he sat down on the bed and took one of the Doctor's hands in his.

"Better now that you're here," the Doctor answered, his words sincere. Somehow, Ianto could always manage to make him feel better, both mentally and physically, with his mere presence. It was something that the Doctor had never experienced with anyone else.

"I wish we could have gotten to you sooner," Ianto said, twining his fingers through the Doctor's and squeezing the Time Lord's hand gently. "If we had, then you wouldn't be in this condition. I'm sorry, love. If only we'd been quicker to find out where you were ...."

His voice trailed off, and he looked down at the floor as though he couldn't bring himself to meet the Doctor's gaze. The Time Lord swallowed hard, Ianto's words making him feel choked and almost unable to speak.

"Ianto, what he did to me isn't your fault, or Jack's, or anyone else's," he whispered, shaking his head and wishing that his voice didn't sound so weak. "You did the best you could. I don't blame you; there was no way for you to get to me before you did."

"I know, but ...." Ianto still looked woebegone as he raised his eyes to meet the Doctor's. The Time Lord reached out to stroke soft fingertips down his lover's cheek, speaking softly.

"I won't have you blaming yourself for something that was out of your control," he said, hoping that his words would have some effect on how Ianto felt. "It doesn't matter when you found me, Ianto. The important thing is that you did."

Ianto nodded, gulping and squeezing the Doctor's hand again. "I'd have done anything to spare you this, Doctor. You know that. I just .... hope it isn't going to leave any permanent marks. Either on the inside, or the outward ones."

The Doctor managed a small smile and a quick nod of his head. "I doubt there'll be any outward signs of what happened, Ianto. My body is already healing .... but it's going to take longer for the more inward wounds to heal."

"I hope I can help with that," the young man whispered, leaning close to the Doctor and brushing soft lips against the Time Lord's mouth. "I'll do my best, anyway."

Why was it that Ianto's merest touch could make any pain seem so much less? The Doctor moved back against the pillows, stifling another sound of pain, making room for his young lover to sit down beside him if he so chose.

He closed his eyes as Ianto settled onto the bed, sliding those strong arms around him. What did it matter if there was a twinge or two? Ianto was with him, holding him, protecting him, keeping him safe, and that was guaranteed to keep any pain he could possibly feel at bay.

***