Title: Pieces of the Night
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Ianto Jones/Tenth Doctor
Fandom: Torchwood/Doctor Who
Rating: R
Table: 3, 50ficlets
Prompt: 29, Pieces
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 lay on his bed in the Tardis, staring up at the ceiling. He blinked every few moments, his thoughts spinning around in his head, trying to put them into some semblance of normality. But his head refused to stop pounding, or to cooperate.

He knew who he was; he knew where he was. He was the Doctor; he was a Time Lord, he was from Gallifreyan. He was here on his ship, the Tardis. He was over 900 years old, and he was in his tenth regeneration. He knew all the facts about himself.

And he also know that the young man who was his lover and companion had saved him from what would have very likely been his ultimate death, on a planet that he couldn't even name. He owed his life to Ianto Jones -- the man who owned his hearts and soul.

He remembered everything about his relationship with Ianto -- from the time of their meeting, to their first kiss, to the first time they'd made love, to the adventures that they'd had. He could remember every look, every touch, every kiss.

It wasn't his long-term memory that was the problem. His brains hadn't been scrambled that much, he thought wryly, struggling to sit up in bed. He was going to be all right -- eventually. As long as he could remember who and what he was, he'd be all right.

No, it was his short-term memory that was plaguing him. He could only remember pieces of the night that had just passed; bits and pieces came floating back to him, but they were all vague, unformed, as though they had happened to someone else.

He could put those pieces into order, but there were large chunks of the picture that were missing. He had no idea what had happened to him, or why Ianto had to save him. He didn't know what had been done to him, and that bit was frightening.

Could whoever had taken him prisoner -- for he could remember that much, the feeling of being captured and caged -- have altered his memory in some way? He couldn't remember anything like that being done, but they could have erased that memory, too.

The Doctor sighed, feeling a wave of dizziness sweep over him. It was probably best if he stayed in bed for a while; he was tougher than humans at times, but he had his weaknesses. And until he knew just what had been done to him, it was best not to test his limits.

A footstep sounded in the hall outside the bedroom; the Time Lord looked up just as Ianto came into the room, moving towards the bed and sitting down beside his lover. The young man took the Doctor's hands in his, looking anxiously at the other man.

"I wanted to let you sleep for a while, but something told me you were awake," he said softly, shaking his head. "Doctor, you need to rest. After all that happened on that planet ...." His voice trailed off, his words hesitant, as though he didn't want to bring up the subject.

"I can't remember exactly what happened, Ianto." The Doctor almost felt as though the words were being dragged from him; he didn't want to admit to his lover that he had gaps in his memory of the night they'd just been through. "I don't know what they did to me."

"Shhh," Ianto said softly, placing a hand in the center of the Time Lord's chest and pushing him back against the coolness of the pillows. "They tortured you, Doctor. I don't blame you for not remembering. I just wish that I could have gotten you out of there sooner."

"They .... they didn't do anything to my mind, did they?" the Doctor asked anxiously, his dark eyes wide with trepidation. "That's what scares me more than anything else, Ianto. The fact that I can only remember pieces of the night, little bits of what happened."

Ianto shook his head, heaving a sigh. "No, Doctor, they didn't do anything to your mind," he murmured, his words still reluctant. "They .... used some sort of device on you that contorted the molecules in your body. Not outwardly, but .... inside."

To Ianto's surprise, the Doctor heaved a sigh of relief at the words. "That's good to know. My inner organs are capable of restoring themselves if they're not too badly damaged. I was worried about losing my mind -- or at least part of it," he whispered, his voice shaking.

"That's one thing I don't believe you'll ever lose," Ianto told him, pulling back the covers and standing up. He quickly shed his clothes, then slipped into bed beside the Time Lord, taking the other man into his arms. "And now, you need to rest."

The Doctor nodded, closing his eyes and burrowing into Ianto's embrace. He'd survived -- with his mind and body intact. And those pieces of the night that he couldn't remember would hopefully come back to him in time -- though he wasn't altogether sure that he wanted to remember them.

***