Ianto cursed as he bumped his head against the cupboard's door that should have been closed. Jack's head soon appeared through the kitchen's door.
"You okay?" He asked, way too concern for just a small hit.
"Brilliant," Ianto mumbled back, failing at sounding casual.
"No, I mean, are you okay, okay?" He asked as he walked entirely in the room.
"What do you mean okay, okay? I'm fine, you just forgot to close the damn door," he sighed, exasperated. And they had just come home.
"We've just arrived, I was still in the hallway... and I mean exactly that. Are you feeling okay, lately?"
"Yeah, sure, why?" Ianto lied, still rubbing his head. He closed the cupboard and went to the bedroom, purposely avoiding and ignoring Jack who followed him after a few seconds only.
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, I'm just tired. Can we please go to sleep?"
"I'll be right here, I just have a thing or two to do," Jack said, leaving the room. He went back right away, and put his hands on Ianto's cheeks so he would look at him. "You know I'm here if you want to talk," he stated more than he asked, kissing Ianto lightly on the lips. He smiled when he pulled back, trying to look confident and to reassure Ianto, who nodded and put his hand on his left wrist.
"It's not you," he finally whispered, avoiding Jack's eyes. "Just... not your fault."
Jack's smile grew bigger as he nodded, then kissed Ianto one last time before leaving him alone.
Ianto took a deep breath and sat down on the bed. He slowly undressed and hesitated, then headed to the bathroom, thinking it couldn't do any wrong.
He was tired, lately. He wasn't getting that much sleep, watching Jack sleep half of the night before he himself was able to rest. And the nightmares came as soon as he was asleep. It had been okay for a moment, he was finally free from the place he had been prisoned in for nine years and it had been perfect, with Jack, seeing his sister again – even if learning both his parents had passed away while he wasn't there had been tough –, having the others – especially Tosh... It had been great, but it now felt like he had never left. Maybe he never would. Maybe spending all these years in this nightmare had been enough to trap him in it forever, maybe he would never be able to feel fine because he still woke up at night, internally screaming, heavily sweating, with the feeling that someone had just given him an injection. He would scratch his arm every time, trying to shake off the feeling, then stare at the ceiling, awake until sleep would accept to take him back, and it would repeat itself, every time, every night.
And nothing was helping, not his sister, not Jack, not even his psychologist. He knew he should probably talk about it to someone, other than the latter, he should seek for help, but he didn't want to annoy people with his problems. Jack had been through enough for him, he had made a lot of sacrifices. He had freed him, he had moved in Cardiff for him, he had taken care of him, he was caring for him, he was doing everything he could so he would feel all right, so he would feel at home, feel loved. And the same went for Rhiannon. They both were helping without knowing, just by giving love and especially because Ianto loved them both, even if he had never said it to Jack. Not that he didn't really believe it, but he didn't really see the point in saying it, Jack must knew it, right? After all, he had never said it as well.
Ianto sighed, cut the water which was getting too cold, and quickly dry himself. He got back to the bedroom, noticing he still had wet hair with a pout to himself, and stopped when he saw Jack standing, his arms crossed on his chest, a too serious face on. What was happening? Had something gone wrong? Was he going to say they were breaking up?
"You should probably sit," he said with a soft voice, and Ianto didn't move.