It was very rare that the blame got too much for Ianto Jones. Usually it would come in the middle of the night, when he'd usually be alone, and he could manage that. Occasionally it came at Torchwood, and then he'd just claim he had to buy more chocolate for Myfanwy and hide until it was done.
It was the middle of the night, and he wasn't alone. Jack Harkness was in bed next to him, hogging the blankets in that annoyingly endearing way of his.
Ianto buried his head in his pillow, not entirely sure what to do. He wasn't sure if he wanted Jack to know this, and he couldn't think of a way to keep it from him. If Jack woke up, Jack knew.
Lisa. What would Lisa think of this? Failing her, falling into the arms of her murderer? How could he do this? How could he betray her like this? How could he stand himself?
The tears burned their way down his face as he buried it deeper into the pillow. How could he? What on Earth was he doing here? He hadn't saved her. Lisa was dead.
How could he have let her go? How could he have forgiven the man who killed her? What a piece of scum he was.
"Ianto..?" Jack moved his hand toward the sound of muffled sobs. "You all right?" He rolled over, half asleep.
"I'm fine," Ianto spat into the pillow, nearly overwhelmed with guilt and anger.
"You don't sound fine." Jack quietly kissed Ianto's shoulder.
He'd killed Lisa. Didn't he deserve to die too? Didn't he? "Just go away." Instead of going away, he pressed closer.
"Ianto."
"Go away!" He shoved Jack away, knocking him off the bed. How could he have let him there in the first place? After what he'd done to Lisa...
Jack stared in shock. "Ianto, what's going on?"
He was ignored as Ianto buried his head back into the pillow. This was wrong, and Ianto knew it. Just wrong. Lisa was supposed to be there. But he'd failed. How had he managed to end up here? How could he be with the man who'd killed Lisa?
"Ianto. Please."
"You killed her," Ianto whispered, "How could I let that go? How could I forgive you?"
"I..." Jack stared at the floor. "I don't know."
"Why couldn't I save her?" Ianto rolled onto his side, staring at the wall.
"Sometimes you just can't," Jack said. He climbed back into the bed and wrapped his arms protectively around Ianto. "I'm sorry."
"You killed her." He didn't push Jack away, but resisted being held.
"I didn't have a choice." Jack knew that, much as it hurt, he couldn't argue if Ianto did hate him. His reasoning seemed hollow.
"I should've done a better job of watching her."
"You did all you could."
"It's my fault, really..."
"No."
"Yes it is!"
Jack had excessive experience when it came to heartbreak and guilt. This was a place he'd been. And despite the fact that he'd been dragged out of it, he still didn't know what to say.
"I just don't care..."
"I care about you."
"And why should I care about you!?"
It was a valid question, and one Jack couldn't answer. Ianto pulled out of Jack's arms and sat on the edge of the bed, head buried in his hands.
"I'll be fine," he said, "I just—"
"I know," Jack said, knowing it wouldn't be fine at all. It was silent for a moment. What was there to say? He quietly reached for Ianto's shoulder. "You OK?"
"Not particularly." He felt hollow. The guilt was receding to manageable levels, but all it left was a dull ache.
"Dumb question, huh?" Jack smiled bitterly, pulling Ianto into his arms.
"Very dumb," he agreed.
"You don't have to forgive me. Really, you don't..."
"I do."
They lay there together silently with nothing to say and too much that needed saying.
"How?" Jack finally asked.
"You aren't a monster." Ianto was silent for a moment and then added, taking Jack's hand, "You hurt just as much as I do."
"Yeah," Jack agreed.
They were silent and close, lost in their thoughts. The past seemed insurmountable. The silence was like a wall between them, truth left unsaid. How could you say what you weren't sure of, even if you knew it deep down?" "I don't hate you," Ianto whispered.
He was sure enough of that. He wasn't sure if he liked Jack, though he had a vague unadmittted suspicion he loved him. He wasn't sure if he blamed Jack. He wasn't sure if he'd be all right. But he was completely sure that, right or wrong, he didn't hate Jack Harkness.
Jack quietly kissed his beautiful, broken Ianto Jones and finally found something that needed saying. "Don't ever think you're a failure, all right?"
"I am a failure."
"No." He pressed Ianto's forehead against him. "You're fantastic."
That got a smile, at least. "I'm the coffee boy."
"You're the best damn coffee boy who ever lived." Jack quietly kissed Ianto's forehead, pulling the blanket from where it was about to fall off. "And don't you ever forget it."
It was 2:43 in the morning and Ianto pulled the blanket over them, pressed against Jack and almost completely under control.
"I'm sorry," he whispered a few minutes later, half asleep.
"Mmm?"
"For... what you had to do. ...With Lisa."
Jack sleepily held Ianto just that little bit tighter. "Go to sleep, Ianto."