I was the one who was washing blood off your hands

"But will you go?"

"I don't know, it's in a long time," Ianto sighed at Rhiannon. She had called, to ask him about Christmas. She was planning on spending it with her husband and the kids only, but didn't want it to annoy Ianto. He wasn't annoyed at all, as he hated family gathering like this. What annoyed him was that it was the end of September and he had no idea where he would be for Christmas, or if he could be there for his mother or not. He didn't even know what he'd do the day after.

"Please?"

"If you don't want her to be alone, why don't you go?"

"Ianto!"

"Sorry, I know. But still, Christmas, Rhi'. It's once in a year..."

"What? I'm sorry Ianto I can't hear you over the sound of the train you took without warning to leave everything behind and go off to London."

"... Point taken. Still, why me?" He dramatically asked, knowing they both were rolling their eyes.

"I don't know maybe the fact that one woman only had two children in her life and it happens to be us, and the woman is our mother, so we could at least be here for her. Much like she was here for you when you were younger," Rhiannon grumbled, but Ianto knew she was smiling.

"I'll see what I can do," he smiled.

"Great!" Ianto looked away from the wall he was staring at and got up when someone knocked weakly at the door. "How are you anyway? Long time no see."

"It's been like a month or so, that's not long."

"Still, how are you holding twenty-five?"

"It strangely looks a lot like twenty-four, I'm a bit disappointed. Much like twenty-four looked like twenty-three. Really, years don't make a lot of difference, that's a shame," he said as he opened the door. He saw Jack through the small space the chain lock allowed, and closed the door only to unlock it and opened it again.

"You'll regret saying this when you'll be past thirty," he heard Rhiannon chuckle as Jack didn't even wait for an invitation and stormed in his flat.

"Make yourself at home," Ianto mumbled as he closed the door behind him.

"What?" his sister asked, not understanding.

"Oh, sorry. I gotta go, we'll talk another day. Kiss the kids for me."

"Oh... Okay. Will do. Bye, Ianto."

"Love you," Ianto said and hung up with a sigh. He joined Jack in the kitchen, watching him search through his drawers. "Need help?"

"Do you have something strong?"

"I have some chili pepper somewhere," Ianto smiled as he left the room and went to the living room, Jack following him.

"I meant alcohol."

"I know, but not in the kitchen," Ianto answered as he knelt in front of his dresser and opened one cupboard, taking some rum he knew he would never drink, for the good reason that he didn't like it and always felt awful after drinking some. He handed it to Jack with a glass. When he sank down the sofa, Ianto stood still, watching him. He looked like he had just cried, which was unusual, and Ianto was pretty sure he could see the burden of the world on his shoulders. He looked wan and exhausted, with downcast eyes, and Ianto wondered for a second what had happened to him. They hadn't talked much more after Ianto's breakdown, a few days earlier. They had seen each other, of course, but they hadn't talked, because they just weren't seeing each other for that purpose.

He let Jack drink until he raised sad eyes on him. "Want some?" He said, sounding like he was about to cry again. Ianto shook his head and stayed still, his hands in his pockets.

"Is there anything I can do?" Ianto asked, not knowing what to do.

"Not really."

"Work?"

"You can say this. Complicated."

"It's me."

"Yeah. Right. Sorry. You know about Torchwood and everything... Actually I might need you for something."

"What do you want?" Ianto tried to sound as kind as he could, but Jack didn't seem to notice it.

"You," he replied, his eyes darkening. If it was from desire or something else, Ianto didn't know. Not that he wouldn't find out soon, but still.

"How?" he simply asked, knowing Jack wouldn't say anything without sex before. If he ever said anything, because he didn't share a lot. But then again, he had never looked so miserable.

"You like sex between us?"

Ianto frowned, but shrugged. "Of course I do. Why?"

"Show me," Jack said, looking away, and it almost felt like he was begging. Ianto stared at him, waiting for a sign he had just misheard him, but Jack purposely avoided eye contact.

He waited for a couple more minutes, then stretched out his hand. Jack flinched away, then looked up with more hope in his eyes than Ianto had ever seen in someone's eyes. And maybe gratitude. It felt weird, seeing Jack so vulnerable. When he finally took his hand, he realised that Jack was shaking. He slowly dragged him to his bedroom, surprised by how much trust Jack placed in him when he closed his eyes and let him undress him slowly.

He was cautious in undressing Jack. He had already noticed he didn't have his coat on – which made him look even more vulnerable – and he slowly put the braces away, he carefully unbuttoned his shirt, caressed his arms as he kindly took the cloth away, taking his time to fold it and put it on the chair he had in front of his little desk. He then kissed Jack, who didn't really answer, and ran his hand through the few wild strands of hair that sadly fell on his forehead. He helped him out of his under-shirt and took his own t-shirt off as well, putting them both down on the chair. He kissed Jack again, longer. This time Jack responded, in a needy way that left both men breathless when they parted.

They looked at each other for a moment, then Jack nodded and looked down. Ianto kissed him on the cheek and gently took his arms to push him on the bed. He quirked an eyebrow when Jack closed his eyes and seemed to be sleeping, even if Ianto knew he wasn't. He was still too tense, and Ianto wondered again what had happened to him. He shook his head. Showing he liked sex with Jack? That, he could do. He could show he liked Jack, he could show how amazing it felt to be with him. For once Jack could be the one forgetting something. Not that Ianto knew what he felt the other times, but he knew that Jack needed this the same way he had himself needed it before. To forget and feel good, and probably sleep.

Still carefully, still very slowly, he took his shoes and socks off then both their trousers and underwear, still folding everything. Jack still had his eyes closed and looked a bit more relaxed, but Ianto knew he still wasn't there. He took the phone from the trousers he had just folded and turned it off discreetly, not wanting anything to disturb them. He was afraid that Jack would never open up if something broke the quiet peace Ianto had managed to bring him to.

He smiled as kindly as he could and lied over Jack who gasped at the contact, as if he had already forgotten about Ianto being there. He opened his eyes and met Ianto's, but close them quickly. Leaning on his arms so he wouldn't crush Jack under him, Ianto started to kiss him on the chest and slowly made his way up. By the time he was kissing him on the mouth, long and hard, Jack was whimpering at every kiss and put his hands in his hair, holding onto him for dear life.

That night, Ianto was entirely in control. He did what Jack had asked him to do. He showed Jack he cared, as much as he could. He didn't say aloud that Jack was crying, but he saw it, despite his resignation to keep his eyes shut. He opened his eyes after a while and Ianto didn't look away, staring deep into his soul as Jack wasn't putting on any mask. When he finally closed his eyes again, Ianto was lost for a moment. He had felt as if travelling somewhere else for a moment, reading what he could in Jack's eyes – sorrow, sadness, some anger, self-despite, a lot of self-loathing and hatred, too much guilt and regrets, but also care, fondness and gratitude – and it had overwhelmed him for a moment, but he still had been able to concentrate back on the matter at hand: comforting Jack.

It had worked, or it seemed like it had. Jack was sleeping, cuddling close with Ianto. He knew he had been listening to his heartbeat – which obviously had increased at that moment because why not – before dozing off, and he had found it kind of cute. But now Jack was on him, and he couldn't move because he didn't want to wake him up, so he hadn't had time to clean up or anything, but he could do with it. Jack's hair didn't allow him to see his face, and he wondered if he still looked as broken as he had been when he had entered his flat. He hoped not, because he was starting to care a bit too much for Jack, ever since he had brought him home that night and listened to him and talked with him. Maybe even before. He felt closer to him, because Jack had seemed honest when he had talked. He sounded like he had been through Hell and back on Earth, which is how Ianto felt sometimes. Maybe Jack was even more broken than him. It oddly comforted him to think that, even if he didn't wish that on Jack.

As the night went on, Jack rolled on his back and Ianto was able to stand up to clean himself and bring a wet cloth if needed. He drank water and also brought a glass to Jack, with a couple of aspirin if he had headaches. He lied back down and stared up at the ceiling. That was when the nightmares came. Jack wasn't much of a sleeper, so Ianto hadn't really watched him sleep before. He didn't seem to make any nightmares, as he had never been awakened in the middle of the night because of him moving, but now he was and Ianto didn't really know what to do. Should he wake him up or not?

He tried to put a soothing hand on his arm, which didn't work at all, then calmly ran his fingers through his hair, humming a song he vaguely remembered hearing when he was younger. He kissed his shoulder when it still didn't work, then started to worry when Jack moved violently, almost hitting him on the face, and started muttering under his breath. Ianto shook him so he would wake up, and he finally did with a painful gasp.

"What happened this time?" he panted, checking for his vitals, which was a weird reflex. And what did 'this time' mean? Ianto didn't ask.

"Just a bad dream," he said instead, stroking Jack's back. Jack eventually looked at him, his mouth opening dumbly.

"Oh. Okay," he sighed, then sank back on the bed, rubbing his eyes. Ianto kept his soothing gestures on his hair and stopped when Jack clearly bit back a sob. He tried to hide it and turned his back on Ianto, but quickly turned again and hid his head on Ianto's chest.

"What really happened, Jack?" Ianto whispered, not knowing how to reach out to Jack who shook his head.

"I can't. I need... I don't want you to yell at me either."

"I won't. I promise I won't. Tell me what happened to you so I can help."

Jack sniffed and Ianto held him close in his arms as he felt tears on his chest. He had never been good with people crying in his arms, and apparently this time he wasn't going to be very helpful either.

"I fucked up," Jack eventually mumbled, and Ianto took a moment to understand what he had just said. He let go a bit so Jack could pull back enough to talk. He did talk, but he didn't look at him.

He talked about people Ianto had no idea who they were – Suzie, Gwen, Owen, Tosh – but he managed to guess they were Torchwood. He knew how many they were, it helped. He understood who Estelle had been, even if at first Jack described her as an old acquaintance, he then quickly admitted she had been someone he had cared deeply about at some point. Someone he had loved, Ianto guessed. Apparently she was dead, killed by some evil fairies – that part was weird and Ianto ironically thought that fairies were a new weird one, even for Torchwood standards – and it had deeply affected Jack. Which Ianto understood perfectly. This explained Jack's sadness.

His guilt and self-hatred came from something else. The fairies had Chosen Ones, in this case one little girl randomly picked, and they wanted her in their world. Jack had already met them, and knew that fighting them was a lost cause. Ianto didn't understand a lot from Jack's rambling after that. He knew he had to give the little girl to the fairies and as the leader, he had made the decision. Alone. Without his team's approval or advice. Which obviously none of them had taken in a good way, as none had spoken to him afterwards. Jack had been brooding on his own then come to Ianto's flat, seeking for any form of support and comfort. He had lost his team's trust by sacrificing a child to aliens, or whatever they were, he knew couldn't be dealt with.

Ianto could understand the decisions a leader had to stumble upon. Yvonne Hartman had had the choice between building a portal that allowed ghost shift or leave it a mystery for her whole life, and she had made the wrong one, but Ianto had never blamed her for it. Well, maybe he had, but he had blamed the whole Earth at least once in his toughest nights, so it probably didn't mean a lot. He could also understand the team's point of view, on the other hand. They were probably persuaded that Jack was supposed to come up with the best of plans every time when really, sometimes you just had to keep your head down and let the storm pass because doing only the slightest move could cause a disaster. They'd eventually see this.

That was what Ianto told Jack. They stayed silent for a long time, and Ianto was starting to fall asleep, exhausted, when Jack abruptly kissed him, desperately. He barely responded, but Jack didn't mind and thanked him quietly, whispering in his ear the words. If Ianto wanted to answer, he fell asleep before.

(Title from the song Don't Cry (Alternate Version) by Guns N' Roses)

Hiya! I wanted to post sooner but kinda forgot and had things to do! I still haven't written more than until the 18th chapter, and I haven't completed even half of the Torchwood Fest prompts, which starts Tuesday... Naah, I'm fine, haha! (oops.) As always, if you have any suggestions, for this fic or something else, don't hesitate to contact me by review or PM or even on Tumblr ('trashmel', there's Torchwood everywhere you can't miss it) and as always comments are highly appreciated and helping me :)