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Run. Have to run. Have to get away. Can't be near anyone. Ianto ran through the streets of Cardiff, sometimes feeling pavement under his feet, wet from the drenching rain, sometimes feeling a leaf strewn forest floor, soaked with falling blood. Always cold. Always alone.
Ianto was shivering, but he hardly noticed, in his frantic rush to get away from his lovers. his hurt lovers, his dead...Run. Keep running. From anyone he could hurt. Stay away from the eyes, the eyes far up in the trees, watching, recording. They’d tell where he went. He couldn’t be found. He managed to avoid most of the CCTV cameras, staying to the blind spots, without even really thinking about it,
The rain beat down, soaking though his thin pajama bottoms, but Ianto kept running, doubling back, cutting through alleys, weaving through the city until his sides ached, and his breaths came in short, pained gasps. He started to walk, kicking the wet leaves.
He walked for hours, the storm waning and then strengthening again in cycles. Ianto, finally convinced that he wouldn’t be found, stumbled into an empty bus stop, ignoring the bench, and curling up in the corner, hugging his knees, shivering violently. The rain turned to blood against the glass shelter. He broke down sobbing and buried his face in his knees, keening low and miserable.
Why did this have to happen? Why did he have to be a monster? Oh God. Owen.
Ianto screamed letting his head bang back against the wall.
---
Bloody cold, miserable night. Andy hated patrolling on nights like this. Sensible people were at home, or in the pub, or anywhere else but on the soggy streets. Even the criminals couldn’t be bothered. He yanked on his collar, trying to keep the rain from flowing down it, dreaming of a nice hot coffee. Maybe one of those fancy lattes. With caramel. And chocolate bits on top of the whipped cream.
He froze as he heard a noise. A bone chilling, heart ripping sound. All thoughts of coffee fled his mind.
Was it a hurt animal or something? His hand hovered over his radio, as he slowly walked forward, listening intently. Maybe a dog had gotten hurt. Hit by a car or something.
He tensed as he heard a human sounding wail. Coming from a bus shelter. Okay not a animal. Crazy homeless person, or a junkie maybe. They tended towards covered areas in this weather. He reached for his nightstick and cautiously approached the small shelter.
Andy immediately spotted a figure huddling in the corner. "Oi! You! Stand up, yeah?"
The figure, a young man in pajamas, just whimpered, curling in tighter to himself, leaving a watery trail of blood as he pulled his bare feet in.
Bleeding wasn’t good. No telling what might be in it. And anyone out here barefoot and shirtless was obviously a few straws short. Andy sighed.
"I'm PC Davidson, I'm asking you to stand up, and let me see you."
The sobbing died down slightly, as the man tried to disappear into the wall, and Andy moved a step closer. He stooped down, trying to get a good look at his mystery man. To his surprise, the face looked familiar, despite being waterlogged, with faint traces of blood running from his nose.
"...Jones? Ianto Jones, Isn’t it? Torchwood?" Andy asked in disbelief. Had he gone totally off the rails? Was he high, on a bad trip, or something?
Ianto shivered and sobbed and tried to push back against the wall. "Go away! Stay away! Please! Please just stay back!"
Andy felt a stab of worry. "Ianto? Are you- well no clearly I can see you're not alright, what's wrong? Are you hurt? Want me to call a ambulance? Have you taken something?"
Ianto shook his head violently. "I- I'm dangerous! Just stay away! I destroy everything around me!" his eyes darted wildly, clearly seeing things that weren’t there. The PC shivered, and resisted the urge to look over his shoulder as Ianto stared at something behind him.
Andy frowned and crouched down, reaching out to touch Ianto, to try to comfort him, and check him for injuries.
Ianto jerked sharply and gasped, muscles tightening as if he were winding up for an attack. Suddenly he went limp and seemed to go catatonic, cloudy eyes still staring at something on the other side of the shelter.
Andy reached out quickly, catching Ianto’s head and laying it against the cold glass.
He dug through his pocket for his mobile, clicked the speed dial, and stepped back away from the bus stop, speaking in a low tone, pitched not to carry. "Gwen? It's Andy. I need you and Torchwood. I have someone I think you need to see."
Ianto was shivering, but he hardly noticed, in his frantic rush to get away from his lovers. his hurt lovers, his dead...Run. Keep running. From anyone he could hurt. Stay away from the eyes, the eyes far up in the trees, watching, recording. They’d tell where he went. He couldn’t be found. He managed to avoid most of the CCTV cameras, staying to the blind spots, without even really thinking about it,
The rain beat down, soaking though his thin pajama bottoms, but Ianto kept running, doubling back, cutting through alleys, weaving through the city until his sides ached, and his breaths came in short, pained gasps. He started to walk, kicking the wet leaves.
He walked for hours, the storm waning and then strengthening again in cycles. Ianto, finally convinced that he wouldn’t be found, stumbled into an empty bus stop, ignoring the bench, and curling up in the corner, hugging his knees, shivering violently. The rain turned to blood against the glass shelter. He broke down sobbing and buried his face in his knees, keening low and miserable.
Why did this have to happen? Why did he have to be a monster? Oh God. Owen.
Ianto screamed letting his head bang back against the wall.
---
Bloody cold, miserable night. Andy hated patrolling on nights like this. Sensible people were at home, or in the pub, or anywhere else but on the soggy streets. Even the criminals couldn’t be bothered. He yanked on his collar, trying to keep the rain from flowing down it, dreaming of a nice hot coffee. Maybe one of those fancy lattes. With caramel. And chocolate bits on top of the whipped cream.
He froze as he heard a noise. A bone chilling, heart ripping sound. All thoughts of coffee fled his mind.
Was it a hurt animal or something? His hand hovered over his radio, as he slowly walked forward, listening intently. Maybe a dog had gotten hurt. Hit by a car or something.
He tensed as he heard a human sounding wail. Coming from a bus shelter. Okay not a animal. Crazy homeless person, or a junkie maybe. They tended towards covered areas in this weather. He reached for his nightstick and cautiously approached the small shelter.
Andy immediately spotted a figure huddling in the corner. "Oi! You! Stand up, yeah?"
The figure, a young man in pajamas, just whimpered, curling in tighter to himself, leaving a watery trail of blood as he pulled his bare feet in.
Bleeding wasn’t good. No telling what might be in it. And anyone out here barefoot and shirtless was obviously a few straws short. Andy sighed.
"I'm PC Davidson, I'm asking you to stand up, and let me see you."
The sobbing died down slightly, as the man tried to disappear into the wall, and Andy moved a step closer. He stooped down, trying to get a good look at his mystery man. To his surprise, the face looked familiar, despite being waterlogged, with faint traces of blood running from his nose.
"...Jones? Ianto Jones, Isn’t it? Torchwood?" Andy asked in disbelief. Had he gone totally off the rails? Was he high, on a bad trip, or something?
Ianto shivered and sobbed and tried to push back against the wall. "Go away! Stay away! Please! Please just stay back!"
Andy felt a stab of worry. "Ianto? Are you- well no clearly I can see you're not alright, what's wrong? Are you hurt? Want me to call a ambulance? Have you taken something?"
Ianto shook his head violently. "I- I'm dangerous! Just stay away! I destroy everything around me!" his eyes darted wildly, clearly seeing things that weren’t there. The PC shivered, and resisted the urge to look over his shoulder as Ianto stared at something behind him.
Andy frowned and crouched down, reaching out to touch Ianto, to try to comfort him, and check him for injuries.
Ianto jerked sharply and gasped, muscles tightening as if he were winding up for an attack. Suddenly he went limp and seemed to go catatonic, cloudy eyes still staring at something on the other side of the shelter.
Andy reached out quickly, catching Ianto’s head and laying it against the cold glass.
He dug through his pocket for his mobile, clicked the speed dial, and stepped back away from the bus stop, speaking in a low tone, pitched not to carry. "Gwen? It's Andy. I need you and Torchwood. I have someone I think you need to see."
(no subject)
Date: Friday, August 28th, 2009 01:48 am (UTC)