[RL WITH SULU]

[torchwoodteaboy]

It'd been a week. A week since that first day that he'd come back from the hospital, and Sulu had had to help him around his flat. A week, most of which he'd spent in a sort of semi-conscious, fatigued and weary state, shuffling about trying to get the necessary things done, but only just succeeding. As Ianto sat on the edge of his bed, just having gotten up from what had been his second nap of the day, and not feeling any better after having taken it, the world spinning around him from having sat up too fast, even though he'd paced himself and been extra careful not to, Ianto had the sinking feeling that in that whole week, he hadn't gotten better at all. Sulu had stuck around until his leave had been up, like he said he would, and then once he'd left, Jack had popped in a few times during the day to help out with chores (he was surprisingly good at doing the dishes and the laundry) and then at night to lie with him (even if Jack didn't sleep and Ianto felt like he was wasting the other man's time). And yet. In that whole week, nothing had changed. Nothing had gotten better. And Ianto was getting sick and tired of being sick and tired, and Jack was great to have around, but. He didn't really understand what it was like to be ill, and sometimes that wore on Ianto even more than not having him around at all.

And now, as the sun was setting, and Jack was off on a sudden call to London, Gwen doing god knows what with Rhys, Ianto wasn't about to disturb their peace, it was all starting to get at Ianto. The darkness was creeping in, and he was beginning to think that maybe he wasn't getting better at all. That maybe he'd never get better. Maybe this was how things would be, from now on. Maybe the darkness really would come for him, because it didn't seem like it would ever really let him go again, and Ianto swallowed against the swell of panic rising in his stomach. He... He couldn't do this. He knew that he didn't want to bother Sulu. That he had specifically refrained from calling him out of the blue for anything since he'd left to go back to his ship, instead waiting for Sulu himself to make the first contact, but. He. He really needed someone there with him. Someone real. Someone who understood and could chase the demons away like he promised he would. And so Ianto did the only thing that he could think of to help, and pulled out his phone to dial the number to Sulu's comm.

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[torchwoodteaboy]

Ianto couldn't argue with the idea of a good night's rest. Maybe now that he was finally warm again, he'd actually be able to get one. Get enough rest and wake up the next day feeling better than he'd ever woken before. ...he knew that that was just wishful thinking, but as he drifted off to sleep, Sulu's presence keeping him warm and safe, his hand in his hair relaxing him, and the rising and falling of his chest under his head and his hand more comforting than anything could be in that moment, he couldn't help but hope.

Couldn't help but hope for Sulu's sake as well as for his own that maybe tomorrow would be better. Couldn't help but hope that even if tomorrow wasn't better, that maybe the next day would. Or the next. Or that it would get better eventually. Because...it would. It had to. And if it didn't...it was like John said. He had two wonderful men that would walk through heaven and hell for him, and in a sense, already had. Regardless of what happened next, Ianto went to sleep grateful of what he had in that moment.