Disclaimer: I own nothing

Hopefully, this will catch on. Either way, I'm going to keep writing it.

So, Ianto feels for her. But in what way?

Sit back and find out!

Love always,

Avoline

I was watching old MASH reruns on Netflix when she screamed. I glanced at the clock, shocked to notice she had slept a good three hours before the nightmare became too much. Still, I wasted no time running to her. She needed someone, but the person she wanted was gone. Owen would understand, but she didn't need sex. She needed true understanding. She needed someone to let her set the pace.

And that person would be me.

I opened the door to see her clawing at the sheets. There were also deep scratches down her arms.

Oh, God, she's hurt herself!

I bolted to her side and pulled her close. To hell with the David Bowie shirt I had on. She needed help! She was bleeding and screaming and clawing at everything within reach, including me. I couldn't bring myself to care if I was hurt or not.

Not when she was screaming his name.

"Gwen," I nearly shouted. "Gwen, wake up! Come on, just wake up!" She screamed again, and I thought I felt my heart crack a little. Was I this bad when Lisa died? Or was it when she was halfway converted? I didn't have time to remember. She was fighting against me, her nails scratching at my face. "Gwen, please, wake up!"

She went limp, and I held my breath. She would either explode, or wake up and realize that her worst fears were true. Either way, I was staying. I wouldn't abandon her. Not when she needed me. Not when she needed anyone. I would do what I could to help her. Even if it damn near killed me.

"Rhys," her voice croaked, and I felt a dull ache in my chest. How many times had I woke up and groggily asked for Lisa? And how long did that happen? Weeks? Months? She sounded so alone, and so unsure.

"I'm sorry, Gwen," I murmured, pushing her hair from her face. "I'm so sorry." She pressed into me a little more, and I simply held her. That's all she needed right now. To know that someone was there for her. I knew what it was like to loose someone in that place, and I wouldn't blame her for never wanting to go back again. It would hurt to do so, but I wouldn't blame her for wanting to forget everything to do with Torchwood.

"Oh, God," she breathed, and I tightened my hold. "Oh, God, he's dead. He's dead, and it's my fault." I shook my head as she sobbed into my shirt.

"No," I countered. "No, it's not your fault. You couldn't have known. It's not your fault, Gwen."

Why did those words hurt so much? Why did hearing her blame herself hurt me like this? Maybe because it honestly isn't her fault. She was trying to protect him. It was never her fault, and it would never be her fault. I wouldn't let her think like that. That sort of thinking would kill her. I was going to do whatever I could to keep her from thinking like that. I would keep her from thinking like that.

She was still. I glanced down to see her asleep again. Well, so much for sleeping on the sofa. Cause if I moved, she'd wake up. Maybe she needed a pair of arms around her. Something I didn't have when I lost Lisa. So, I simply stayed and watched her.

She was, in all truth, rather beautiful. The way her hair cut framed her face. The shape of her lips. Even that gap in her teeth. It was all a part of who she was. A daring, stubborn woman who protected those she cared about fiercely. Even those of us at Torchwood, despite how easily she could blame us for ruining her life. She could have lead a normal life. She should be leading a normal life.

But all that was taken away from her.

Yet, she had chosen this life. She wanted to work for Torchwood, wanted to work with us. She knew the risks, yet chose to stay, when we would have understood if she had walked away. Would have been safer if she had. We would have survived with the few people we had. Why she chose to stay, I'll never know. She would have been better off if she had.

"Rhys," she whimpered, and I decided she didn't need to sleep any longer. Not if it was going to be nothing but torment.

"Gwen, wake up," I prompted. "Come on, wake up. Won't do you much good sleeping right now." Her eyes slid open to meet mine, and the pain in them cut me to the bone. God, was this how pathetic I looked? Why had I insisted on going through it alone? I pushed her hair out of her eyes, trying to hold it together for her. "Come on, Gwen. Let's get up. I've got some ice cream if it'll help." A smile flitted across her face for just a second before disappearing again.

"That sounds good," she whispered, and I helped her to her feet. I slid my arm across her shoulders, feeling her lean against me.

She didn't need ice cream. She sure as hell didn't need me doting on her like a mother hen. She needed her fiance. She needed to see his smile, hear his voice, feel his arm around her, not mine. She should be at home, snuggled up to him and watching some movie while munching on popcorn.

"Your face," she mumbled. "Ianto, what happened?" I smiled a bit, hoping to lighten the mood even a little bit.

"You had a bad dream," I answered. "Scratched up your arms good. Took a bit to wake you up. Got some sharp nails, you know that?" She laughed a little, and I felt the crack in my heart mend a little. She would be okay over time. There was hope for her yet.

"I'm sorry, Ianto," she muttered softly. "Didn't mean to hurt you." I gave her a gentle squeeze as we walked into my kitchen.

"I've been through worse," I responded.

Night one, over. But it won't even be the worst.