The dim, blue light of the hub shone down from the hole in the ceiling, where the ladder led up to Jack's office.
It cast a blue glow across Ianto's features while he slept peacefully next to Jack.
Jack, himself, couldn't sleep; instead passing the time by watching slow the rise and fall of Ianto's chest.
Unable to resist, he eventually reached out a hand and slid it across Ianto's ribs, frowning as he found them much more prominent than they should have been.
Ianto seemed particularly pale and small in the dimness of the room and Jack felt slightly guilty that he hadn't spent much time with him recently; the rift had been unusually active. He clearly wasn't eating enough.
Ianto stirred slightly at Jack's touch.
'Mmhh.' He turned his head slightly. Jack smiled and bought his lips down to Ianto's.
This time, his touch woke Ianto completely and the young man groaned; opening one eye to glare accusingly at Jack.
'I was asleep'
'I gathered' Jack grinned.
Ianto sighed, opened both eyes, rolled them and closed them again.
'How come you never dream?' Jack asked suddenly.
'Why'd you say that?' he asked sleepily, his eyes still shut.
'You never move in your sleep.' Jack replied thoughtfully. 'Always stock still'
'Except when you start harassing me.' Ianto grumbled.
'Even your eye-lids don't move' Jack said, ignoring the remark.
'It's like you're completely shut down.' He finished quietly.
Ianto was silent for a minute.
Then; 'I dream'
Jack was puzzled; all the times he'd lay next to Ianto, watched him sleep, he'd never once seen him flinch, or toss or talk; he was almost corpse-like in his stillness when he slept.
'You do?'
He grunted in affirmation.
'What about?' Jack asked his voice full of curiosity.
He was reluctant to reply but Jack's searching gaze bore down on him.
Eventually he said quietly and with forced control 'Canary Wharf. Lisa. The…countryside.'
Jack shuddered at the memories that filled his head.
'You dream about all that?' he asked, horrified; Ianto never seemed to have nightmares.
'Yeah' he grimaced.
'But you never… I didn't…' Jack trailed off, lost for words.
Ianto sighed and turned his head away.
'I never toss and turn or wake up in a cold sweat screaming…that doesn't mean I don't have bad dreams Jack.'
Jack felt another wave of guilt.
'All that happens when I dream is I wake up suddenly, freezing cold.'
'You've never woken up like that with me.' Jack said, frowning.
'You're not usually there when I wake up' Ianto replied, trying to sound nonchalant and failing miserably; the bitterness and pain and longing were evident in his voice.
Jack was pained by this; he really hadn't been the best to Ianto.
'Besides,' he continued sheepishly, 'they're not so bad when you're there' this, he was embarrassed by Jack realised, and he promptly buried his head under a pillow.
Jack felt like his heart was constricted.
All those times he was lying right beside me, thought Jack, I never realised…he could have been screaming inside and I just…left
He vowed to pay more attention to Ianto from then on. He needed help. He was still traumatized by the events of the past few months; He had never had a chance to deal with it; not when there was so much to be done at Torchwood. It was in Ianto's nature to hide behind a mask, a veneer of contentment which concealed his real feelings. Ianto was not ok…and Jack Harkness would be damned if he couldn't do something about it.
A few days later Jack and Ianto once again lay in bed in the cramped living space under Jack's office. Jack yet again was wide awake and, as had been his default state recently, was worried about Ianto.
The young man lay sound asleep next to him, seemingly peacefully but Jack knew that this wasn't necessarily the case inside Ianto's mind.
He reached out a hand and touched Ianto's face lightly. Cold. Freezing cold. He might be having a nightmare.
Jack wrapped his arms carefully around Ianto – Jesus he really was freezing - lifted him up and slid beneath him so that he lay back against Jack's chest. Jack was permanently warm; radiating his own strong 51st century body heat, he hoped it would make Ianto more comfortable and maybe even chase his nightmares away.
A little while later, Ianto awoke with a slight jolt and a small but audible gasp.
Jack tightened his grip around him. His breathing was fast and Jack could feel his heartbeat racing. The younger man's tension was evident; his muscles were taught and his shoulders stiff and rigid.
'What was it?' Jack asked quietly.
'The countryside.' He said shakily.
Jack remembered the stench of blood, the stripped corpses…Ianto beaten and bruised…cracked ribs…concussion…scars…he shuddered.
He had never really acknowledged how much Ianto had gone through that day…what he had seen…what had nearly happened…his first field work and…
His grasp on Ianto tightened further still. Here was his guilt again. He had never looked after Ianto properly, never noticed his suffering, albeit silent.
He felt Ianto slowly relax into his arms now and soon his breathing became slow and deep and Jack felt him drifting back into unconsciousness. At least he could do this for him.
'Jack?' Ianto murmured drowsily, fighting the stupor.
'Yeah, Ianto?'
'Stay?' he slurred, before leaning his head back against Jack and falling fast asleep.
'I will' he said, hoping that Ianto would feel his presence even in sleep and hoping, desperately, that it would be enough to keep the horrific memories out of Ianto's head.
He didn't deserve Ianto Jones but as long as he needed him, Jack would be there.