Jack woke to whimpering.
Confused, he rolled, tangled in clean white sheets. There was resistance, but Jack managed.
Lying next to him was the young Welshman Jack had loved since the moment he'd laid eyes on him.
Ianto's eyes were slammed shut and he, though asleep, looked absolutely terrified. Small horrified sounds were escaping the Welshman's lips.
"Hey," Jack murmured, his voice rough, placing a hand gently on Ianto's shoulder.
Ianto tensed, a small choked sound escaped his throat, and hot tears ran down his cheeks.
"Hey," Jack spoke louder.
All of a sudden, as if his world had just crumbled, the whimpers stopped and screams of agony racked the Welshman.
Captain Jack Harkness had lived through a lot, and died several times, but this was one of the most excruciatingly painful experiences he had ever been through.
"Ianto," Jack was yelling now.
Ianto didn't respond; he seemed incapable of hearing the American.
Jack pulled Ianto close to him; tried comforting him.
It didn't work.
With no other options, Jack pulled Ianto's head into his lap, leaned down, and crashed his lips to the sleeping Welshman's just as he had when Lisa had attempted to destroy Torchwood.
Ianto fought, but Jack was stronger and held him still. All Jack wanted was for Ianto to stop making those excruciating sounds that hurt Jack just as much as whatever was hurting Ianto in his dreams.
"Come on," Jack murmured against Ianto's lips.
The Welshman fought the American, but weakly, as if his energy was leaching into the chilly air that cooled Ianto's hot cheeks.
Ianto's eyes were fluttering open now, dazed and confused and so full of pain it hurt to look into the usually clear blue eyes.
Jack pressed his lips to Ianto's forehead and held him while Ianto surfaced back to reality, away from the awful nightmare.