I know it's a Friday, but I don't care. Don't nag me about the lack of humor. It has Janto. So ha. Janto trumps all. This is for Nomad, who needs a hug. I'm a bit busy at the moment, so a digital hug in the form of fluffy Janto will have to do.

It was a rather idiotic idea, is what Jack would say, if you asked him later. An idiotic idea with painful consequences.

Of course, if you asked him during the physical act of picking up the phone, Jack would say it was instinctual. Picking up a phone when it rang, an action hard-wired into the brain of most twenty-first century humans. And in Jack's.

But, really, none of that matters. While Jack was in that horrid, horrid trance, is when he found it worth it. Worth it to be the first to pick up the phone, so nobody else could be hurt. Especially not Ianto. Yes, it was worth all the pain just to protect Ianto.

But what Jack wouldn't say, what he couldn't- he didn't know, was how much that dreaded phone had hurt Ianto. How it slowly ripped the younger man's heart out, piece by piece, as he stroked a lock of dark hair out of Jack's face. "They say you're supposed to talk to people when they're in a coma, don't they?"

Jack knew nothing but the unimaginable pain. Sounds around him blurred together in a thick wall of noise. Pain constricted his mind, making it impossible for him to continue a straight thought. All he could do to distract himself from the white-hot iron ripping at his skull was his hand in Ianto's, Ianto's thumb tracing small circles in Jack's palm. Jack wished he could return the grip as he struggled in vain against the darkness.

"I have absolutely no idea whether or not you can hear me, Jack. I've never heard of anybody coming out of one and carrying on a conversation."

Ianto's bitter laugh reached Jack through the fog of pain, bringing with it much-needed relief.

"So, I suspect it's probably something the doctors tell us to do, to make us feel better, rather than you."

What Ianto didn't know was that just his voice was the one thing that could help Jack in that instance, the one thing that could banish the pain and the cold.

"We don't feel quite so useless and helpless. We get the feeling there's still some sort of purpose in our lives." And it was true. Without Jack, Ianto would have no purpose. He had given him purpose, after all- after Lisa. "Not just waiting. Waiting for the science to work, or the miracle to happen. Or the nightmare to end.

I'm not much of a talker, Jack. You know that."

Jack wondered if the various monitors hooked up to him registered how his heart spiked in fear at those words- fear that Ianto would stop talking, and Jack would be left alone in a world of pain.

"But I'll talk to you now, on the off-chance that it helps." Of course it helped. Ianto often made all the difference in Jack's pain, even in death- and Ianto knew that.

"Just promise me, if you're hearing this, that when you come round- and you're going to, Jack, you're going to come out of this- just promise me you'll never bring up anything I say to you. How's that? We got a deal?"

It depends on what you say.

"This must be the longest that I've ever looked at you and not seen you smile."

Jack wished he could smile, that he could sit up and hold Ianto close to his chest and refuse to let him go.

"I've watched you in your sleep, did you know that? So many times, just woken up beside you in the middle of the night and watched you. Watched your eyes moving behind your eyelids as you dreamed, and tried to imagine what a man like you could possibly dream about. The things you've seen, the lives you've lived, the people you've loved. I wondered if you were dreaming about me. I hoped you were dreaming about me. But let's be honest, Jack. I'm nothing more than a blip in time for you."

Ianto didn't realize how wrong he was. It was always him- always his voice that pulled Jack out of death, out of the darkness, out of the nightmares.

"Everyday, I grow a little older. But you're immortal. You've already lived a thousand lifetimes. How could you watch me grow old and die?" He couldn't. Jack knew that. But he couldn't leave Ianto either.

"How could I watch you live, and never age a day? I suppose we both know that will never be a problem, not in this job. No one in Torchwood ever lives to draw their pension, do they?" compared to Jack, Ianto was like glass. One day, he would shatter so much that he wouldn't be able to piece him back together. And that would be what finally killed Jack.

"Even if by some miracle I survive to see my hair turn grey, or, God forbid, fall out, I din't kid myself you'd still be around to see it."

Jack couldn't believe how wrong Ianto was. He would be there, no matter how much it hurt. He had to. For Ianto.

"One day, you'll go again, just like you did before. And this time you won't be back. Maybe that's what you're dreaming about, those nights, when I watch you sleeping. Maybe that's why, even when you sleep, I see you smile."

Jack wished he could hold Ianto now, to kiss his tears away as he heard his voice break. He was right. Jack did dream about seeing the stars again. But, every time, Ianto was there too. Jack wished he had never left with the Doctor, after seeing how much it had hurt Ianto.

"But you haven't gone yet, Jack. I know that. I know you're coming back to me."