Sometimes It's What You Don't Say
Ianto looked hard into Jack's eyes, his own soft brown puddles scanning the sea of blue, set against deep black pupils. He was looking for any subtle signs of the emotional turmoil which normally accompanied a recent death. It was cruel… and painful… and gruelling… and Ianto thought that he could sense his lover's discomfort, as Jack fought to suppress the memory of the event.
"Did they kill you?" He asked him.
"Yeah." Jack nodded – he didn't even try to hide it.
Ianto hated the thought of Jack having to deal with it alone, sensing the quake of emotion in his strong voice. It was well disguised, although not well enough to keep it from Ianto. He knew that waking up alone was what Jack found the most difficult part of reviving. Whenever possible Ianto liked to be there with him when he woke up. He liked to be the one to provide the comfort and reassurance he knew Jack needed. The sound of a reassuring and familiar voice was what seemed to help him the most and the thought of Jack having to suffer such an ordeal alone devastated the young Welshman.
Ianto stepped forward, his arms outreached ready to receive Jack into their embrace, and Jack allowed himself to be pulled into Ianto's arms. He too returned the gesture, understanding Ianto's need to comfort him as much as he needed to be comforted.
Sometimes it was what Ianto didn't say that actually said the most.
