the trouble is my head won't let me forget; closed

[te_gwas]

It started after - well, Ianto generally referred to it as the Zagreus business, for lack of a more socially acceptable term. That time Zagreus broke into my mind. The Doctor picked up Fitz and Ianto picked up the hobby of strengthening his mental barriers.

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[holycrap2hearts]

And so a week goes by, and the Doctor goes off in search of Ianto. He still thinks these exercises (for lack of a better term, he had decided) were an absolutely brilliant idea, and though he's still more than a little nervous, he understands the importance very well. As much as he doesn't want to hurt Ianto or invade his privacy, he doesn't want anyone else to be able to either.

He finds Ianto in his room and knocks on the door. "It's, ah, it's been a week," he says as he enters. "It it will have been in roughly three hours, I could come back later if you'd prefer."

[te_gwas]

Ianto looks up from his diary and stares for a long moment, flicking through responses in his head. Congratulations, you understand how calendars work? Then, it slots into place - a week, right, they were going to meet again in a week. Give him a break, he's just starting to get used to living non-linearly, things get jumbled.

"Oh, erm, right." He looks down at his diary, then up again. "Now's fine." He sets aside his diary and sits up, crossing his legs. He feels immensely unprepared, but then, he always does.

[holycrap2hearts]

"Oh, excellent," he states rather plainly and makes his way over to sit on the bed beside Ianto.

The Doctor tells the small part of himself that still doesn't want to do this that it is for a good cause, and without a word reaches over to rest his fingertips on Ianto's temples. Although he knows he probably should go rather full-force -- that was the point, wasn't it? -- he doesn't, and waits at the edge of Ianto's mind, barely bumping against it. Tickling, almost, or nuzzling.

[te_gwas]

The covers shift and wrinkle around Ianto as he settles himself, knocking knees with the Doctor. He tries to sit up straight, get his shoulders aligned - he always ends up slouching during the contact and the resulting soreness after compounds his headache.

He tilts his chin up and closes his eyes as the Doctor touches his temples, hmming in acknowledgment of the... pressure, presence? The Doctor is just there in a way that might be pleasant if Ianto's mind were made to have another in it, antagonistic or not.

If he felt inclined, he might point out that most anyone trying to do this to him wouldn't wait for an invitation. The purpose at the moment, though, is just to see if he can keep someone out and not to protect himself from unexpected intrusions. That'll be a while yet, he imagines, if ever.

He attempts a non-verbal acknowledgment, tries to bump or tickle or nuzzle the Doctor's mind in return. It's more like throwing a brick at it (and serves him right), but the point gets across.

[holycrap2hearts]

The Doctor stifles a tiny giggle when Ianto mentally throws a brick at him. Not, of course, that he's laughing at Ianto's attempt, because he's not at all. Ianto is much further along with this than the Doctor would have ever expected him to be at this stage, and it really is amazing for a human to be able to do any of this.

It almost reminds him of when he was just a tiny little Time Tot, at the Academy, and they would practice these same sorts of things with one another.

He nudges against Ianto's mind again, this time just as gentle, but with the intent of going a bit further.

[te_gwas]

Ianto's mouth turns down into a brief, insincere pout. Shush, you, he's trying. He meets the nudge with a solid nudge of his own, ignoring the way his stomach twists with anxiety and anticipation. Carefully, deliberately, he begins working on his walls, imagines them on either side of a brick wall growing slowly higher. The visualization seems a bit amateurish, but it helps.

"Would've been more prepared if I'd remembered," he says slowly, struggling to divide his attentions between fortifying and forming words. (And, of course, he's rather grudgingly admitting that he'd forgotten. Ianto never forgets.)

[holycrap2hearts]

"Mm," the Doctor mutters in a little hum. "I did offer to come back later."

Physically he is sitting straight up. To an outside observer it might appear he is ready to go bouncing off to do whatever his little hearts desire at any minute. Mentally though, he's resting against the wall Ianto is building, pressed against it, and putting enough 'weight' on it to perhaps let Ianto realize it could stand to be a bit stronger, because it really isn't very strong right now.

'The offer still stands, you know,' he says non-verbally.

[te_gwas]

Even hearing that voice so often in his nightmares, he's still not used to the unnerving sensation of someone else's voice in his head. He twitches just slightly and clasps his hands in his lap. He's even worse at this than he is at shielding - which is sad, because the whole mental... speaking thing is really cool, frankly.

He responds with an unrefined but emphatic NO and NOW, and something like the emotional equivalent of a frowny face regarding the gentle prodding. He knows, alright? He's working on it.

[holycrap2hearts]

'Fine, fine,' the Doctor replies, grinning perhaps a bit cheekily both inside and out. 'Now, then. Since you're going to be so insistent on it.'

He waits a moment, giving Ianto time to build up the wall a bit more, before pressing against it again, ever-so forceful this time, slowly. As much as he hopes Ianto will be able to keep him out, on the chance he won't... Well, it might hurt if the Doctor just busted up in there.

[te_gwas]

Well, it hurts either way, not unlike... anyway, Ianto appreciates the, uh, gentleness. He pushes, pushes, trying to ignore the physical urge to literally shove the Doctor away. In his lap, the knuckles of his hands turn white.

"Stop," he says suddenly, drawing back and breaking the connection before the Doctor can feel the shame and anger lancing through him. His hands come up to grasp the back of his neck, trying to press away the pain at the base of his skull. He's red, he's sure of it, furious with himself for calling 'uncle' so soon, but he's just not prepared.

For a moment, he's somewhere else entirely, hunched over and nursing a dissimilar pain at the back of his head, before he snaps back to the present. "Sorry," he says with a muffled laugh. "I just... give me a minute."

[holycrap2hearts]

The Doctor feels a pang of guilt. This is one of the reasons he had originally been against the plan. He hadn't meant to hurt Ianto so much, but it was seeming like more and more an unavoidable consequence.

He reaches over to run the back of his hand through Ianto's hair, hoping it seems comforting. "That's fine," he says, reminding himself that it might hurt Ianto a little, but better than ... the possible alternative ever happening again. Ianto was getting better, and even on the chance nobody ever attempted to invade his mind again, well, learning a new skill was rarely a bad thing, right? "Take as long as you need."

[te_gwas]

"Mm." Ianto wrinkles his nose and sits up a bit straighter. Pain is easy, he can deal with pain. He's actually quite good at dealing with pain, he thinks (if by 'dealing with' you mean 'pretending not to be in'). It's the anxiety that's getting to him, now.

"Used to think I was so good at this," he chuckles, filling the silence. And he is, comparatively - to humans. Not polished enough to be transferred to a higher, more confidential department of Torchwood One, but better than his peers. Not as good as the Doctor, though, and that's the only comparison that matters at the moment.

[holycrap2hearts]

"You are good at this, Ianto," the Doctor reassures. "Would I lie to you?"

Well, actually, he might, if it were a situation where he needed to. He certainly had lied to people about things before. But not something like this. Lying about this would be rather pointless.

He smiles. "We haven't been practicing for very long, is all."