A.N: I don't own 'Torchwood' or anything therein. All rights belong to RTD and the BBC. I don't get paid for this, and no harm is intended.

The sounds were almost worse than the smell, but just almost. He could drown the noise out with his thoughts, with the beating of his heart and the rasping of his breath, but the smell…nothing could disguise it. Blood smells like old wells and copper buttons, it's a thick smell, almost tangible. It filled his mouth, and he kept spitting, trying to rid himself of the taste, but the only real way to do that would be to stop breathing, and he was trying his damnedest not to do that.

He had one goal, and one goal only and that was to save Lisa, but he had to be alive to do that. He ran blindly in the dark, and it occurred to him that this isn't the way it happened, but it was happening now, and it had never happened before. His thoughts were confusing, and he tried to ignore them. He had to save her, this time he would save her, and he focused on that. He ran until his legs should have buckled, trying to get away from the screams and the stench, trying to find salvation. He tripped at some point, his feet tangling together, betraying him, and he fell headlong into something soft and familiar.

He was pulled to his feet by strong hands, and he looked up to see Jack's face in the darkness. Again he heard a voice saying that this was wrong, this wasn't the right order of things, and again he ignored it.

"Help me," he said, gripping Jack's arms for support, "Please, Jack, before it's too late. We can still fix it."

Jack shook his head and pulled him tight, locking him in his arms and refusing to let him go.

"It's in your head, baby," Jack said. "This is all wrong. She's just in your head."

Ianto pushed back against him struggling to free himself. Jack's arms were like iron, unyielding and cold. Ianto could still hear them, all the voices begging and shrieking, and he could hear her to be saved. He screamed in frustration and anger, lashing out now, hitting Jack with his fists, sinking his teeth into Jack's hands. Jack simply stood there, taking each blow as it came, holding him tighter, his voice echoing ominously in the dark.

"She's in your head, sweetheart. But, I'm in there now, too."

xxxXXXxxx

Ianto awoke with a start, cold sweat dripping down his chest and back. He didn't scream, because he'd grown used to the nightmares, and he didn't want to wake Jack. The thought of Jack brought back a vague flash from his nightmare, Jack's arms holding him so tightly, refusing to let him go, and that flash brought forth a surge of anger. It was no doubt irrational, and Ianto had been trying so hard lately to live only in the rational world, but he still had his moments.

It had been slightly over two months since he and Jack had started doing whatever it was they were doing, and it ate at him sometimes. Not the act of it, but the why. Ianto's own reasons had seemed clear enough in the beginning. He liked Jack, he owed Jack, and, no matter how confusing it was, he'd been attracted to the man from the start. It had been the look on his face as they'd interred Suzie for the second, and hopefully final, time.

That look hadn't been the Captain's or their fearless leader's, it had been Jack's, his mask dropped, and he'd seemed so vulnerable and alone. The loneliness had radiated off of him in waves, and even after he'd put his Captain face back on, Ianto could still feel it. That look, and the tone in Jack's voice, had broken Ianto's heart, and he owed Jack. He owed him his job, his life, and his sanity. So he'd offered him the one thing he knew Jack wanted from him. It had started out as solace, for both of them, but it had ended out here.

Ianto could no longer fool himself into believing that he was shagging Jack for altruistic reasons. He was shagging Jack because he had feelings for him, and that made him furious. In the real world, Lisa had been dead for a long time, but that had no meaning in his heart. He'd held on hope far past the point of sanity, he'd kept her alive in his soul, every heartbeat had pounded out her name, but now he was here, in bed with someone else. In love with someone else, and he felt like his heart was being ripped in two. Loving Jack was agony, especially since he knew that Jack didn't love him back.

Ianto might have been crazy, but he wasn't one bit stupid, and he knew where he stood. He knew he suffered for Jack, suffered just being with him, and he knew it was well worth it for those brief moments when Jack was holding him and he felt alive and whole again. He also knew that Jack was oblivious to his struggles, and he wondered if Jack would care if he knew. It didn't matter either way, because the very fact that Ianto had to wonder meant that there was something very, very wrong.

Jack was in his head and his heart, not replacing Lisa, but moving past her, ripping Ianto to shreds in the process, and all the while Ianto knew that he was nothing but a passing fancy that had caught Jack's eye. Ianto knew Jack would leave him someday, for his Doctor, or Gwen, or some bloke on the street who was a little bit younger, a little bit fresher, than Ianto was. Of course, he wanted to be wrong, and, more than that, he wanted to have a higher opinion of the man he was not only sleeping with, but in love with, and most of the time he was able to push his fears aside. But, on nights like this one, when he was awoken by a nightmare, drenched in sweat and silent tears, while Jack lie resting peacefully beside him, he had his moments. He had his rage.

He'd forgiven Jack and the rest of them long ago for Lisa's death. Once he'd had time to think about it, once he'd started on the medication Owen demanded he take, he'd realised that it was never their fault. Lisa had died at Canary Wharf, and trying to keep her alive was almost as perverse as what Suzie had done to Gwen. It had been almost as perverse, but definitely as dangerous, and, in its own way, just as selfish. That was what Torchwood London and Canary Wharf had made of him. Jack made him something better, but that had a price. Ianto had all ready learned that all things did.

In this case, it was the anger and the guilt, followed by the grief. Not just grief for Lisa, but also the grief he felt for Jack, for the way he was all ready mourning what they had, as if it had all ready blown away on the bay air. It was worth it though, even the pain. Even the anger. Ianto had lost Lisa, and he'd seen Suzie die twice, and as far as he knew, life was tremendously short. His had thus far been filled with more anguish than he felt he could bear, and he knew he was going to have carry the weight of it for the rest of his short life. Oh, but sometimes even a minute felt like an eternity. The things he'd seen, the things he'd done… catastrophes, and tragedies and betrayals that there were no excuse for. It all piled up, and though he knew he wouldn't live forever, sometimes it felt like it had been forever all ready.

Lying next to Jack, watching him sleep and listening to him breathe, somehow made the universe seem so large, and time seem so vast as to make Ianto's portion of it nothing more than a brief thunderstorm over the sea. That was something else Jack radiated when his guard was down. It felt as if he'd been through all of space and time and gotten lost there. Kissing Jack was like gazing at the cosmos; it made Ianto feel small, and it took his breath away, and much like a star, Ianto knew he could never really possess it. Sometimes, Ianto felt like he was drowning in Jack. Still, it was worth it, because as terrifying as it was, it was also comforting, in its way.

Jack moaned in his sleep and opened his eyes, breaking Ianto from his reverie.

"Hey," Jack yawned, propping himself up on an elbow, "are you okay?"

"Yep," Ianto answered, his voice shaking only slightly. "Just got up for some water."

"Oh," Jack said, and placed a hand on Ianto's back. "Seven, by the way."

Ianto kept his expression impassive, and tried to will himself calm. 'Seven' could mean anything, and nothing Jack said would ever surprise him. He tried to wait it out, but Jack just kept looking at him with sleepy yet sharp eyes, that might have held just a hint of concern.

"Seven what, Jack?" Ianto finally said. "Dwarfs? Wives? Deadly sins? Seven what?"

"Seven times you've woken up in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat and shaking, and then said you were fine. What's going on with you?"

"Nothing," Ianto said, just above a mumble. "I have… dreams."

"Do you want to talk about it? You can tell me anything."

Jack was using his earnest voice, and Ianto believed that he meant what he said, but he couldn't bring himself to say the thoughts he was having out-loud. In a way he recognised as being insane, it was almost like vocalising it would make it real. In another, far more realistic sense, he knew saying what was on his mind could only lead to two things. Best-case scenario, Jack found out about Ianto's feelings and took pity on him. Worst-case scenario, Jack found out about Ianto's fears, and confirmed them. It never occurred to Ianto that Jack might reciprocate, just as it never would have occurred to him that the sun might actually revolve around the Earth.

"It's nothing," Ianto said, without meeting Jack's eyes. "They're just remnants. Happens to everyone, I guess. It's really nothing."

If Jack had pressed it further, Ianto might have broken then. He might have told Jack everything he was feeling, everything he feared, and everything that came after might have been different. Whether Jack had embraced him, or pushed him away, the future might have turned out brighter for both of them. But Jack didn't press it. He rubbed Ianto's back lightly, and then pulled him back down on the bed, wrapping him in his arms.

"Okay," Jack said against his neck. "If you ever do want to tell me, I'm here."

Ianto made a noncommittal sound, pulled Jack closer and kissed him. It was like kissing stardust on the sun.