Ficlet: Fading Memories And Old Friends
Title: Fading Memories And Old Friends
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Ianto, Others.
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: A lot of Ianto’s memories are fading as he grows older, but he has ways of preserving them, and even has some outside help.
Word Count: 500
Written For: Prompt 262: Fade at anythingdrabble.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
The older people get, the more memories fade. There are always new things happening, pushing existing memories into the depths of the human mind, where they fall into disuse, forgotten about, collecting dust at the bottom of one of those crevices that make up the human brain.
That’s how Ianto imagines it anyway. He’s always had an excellent memory, bordering on the photographic, able to access just about anything he’s seen, experienced, heard, or read, if he tries hard enough. He can even remember things he’d rather forget, or he used to be able to.
Brains do not have infinite capacity, or they probably don’t; it’s hard to be sure. Even five-hundred years into the future the finest researchers have yet to come up with conclusive evidence one way or the other. After over five centuries of life though, Ianto is very much aware that there are things he simply doesn’t remember anymore, things from when he was a regular human, before he became immortal.
He presumes it’s because older memories, especially the unwanted ones, are being automatically deleted to make way for newer, more important ones. He still keeps a journal though, still has all the old written volumes in storage, as well as in digital format, so he can access old memories that way if he chooses. It’s sort of like backing up computer files on an external hard drive, only it’s the contents of his brain he backs up for future reference. Not that he looks at his past often; there’s too much going on in the present, what with Jack, their latest brood of kids, and running the Torchwood Institute.
Torchwood is one thing he can’t forget since it still exists, both the head office in Cardiff, and a number of others scattered across earth. There are even branches on distant planets, helping to foster peaceful alien-human relations and broker trade deals between the various races.
Cardiff is still home for Ianto and his family most of the time though. The city’s changed a great deal, and so has Torchwood’s base of operations. There’s a sprawling complex of buildings now where the old Hub used to be. It still exists in its remodelled form below what is now known as the Torchwood Plas, and beneath the New Hub, the archives have barely changed at all. Better lighting, better temperature and environmental controls, better storage, but still the same maze of tunnels, passageways, and rooms.
The rebuilt Hub and the archives are where Ianto goes when he wants to remember old friends, because few people who work for Torchwood ever truly leave.
“I like what’s been done with the place.” Tosh smiles. “It’s so much airier than it used to be.”
“It’s okay, I suppose,” Owen grumbles. “I liked the old place better.”
“You hated it. Said it was always cold and damp, unhygienic.” Ianto smirks.
“If you’re gonna be like that, I’ll leave.” Owen starts to fade.
Torchwood has always been haunted. Ianto rather likes that.
The End
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Ianto, Others.
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: A lot of Ianto’s memories are fading as he grows older, but he has ways of preserving them, and even has some outside help.
Word Count: 500
Written For: Prompt 262: Fade at anythingdrabble.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
The older people get, the more memories fade. There are always new things happening, pushing existing memories into the depths of the human mind, where they fall into disuse, forgotten about, collecting dust at the bottom of one of those crevices that make up the human brain.
That’s how Ianto imagines it anyway. He’s always had an excellent memory, bordering on the photographic, able to access just about anything he’s seen, experienced, heard, or read, if he tries hard enough. He can even remember things he’d rather forget, or he used to be able to.
Brains do not have infinite capacity, or they probably don’t; it’s hard to be sure. Even five-hundred years into the future the finest researchers have yet to come up with conclusive evidence one way or the other. After over five centuries of life though, Ianto is very much aware that there are things he simply doesn’t remember anymore, things from when he was a regular human, before he became immortal.
He presumes it’s because older memories, especially the unwanted ones, are being automatically deleted to make way for newer, more important ones. He still keeps a journal though, still has all the old written volumes in storage, as well as in digital format, so he can access old memories that way if he chooses. It’s sort of like backing up computer files on an external hard drive, only it’s the contents of his brain he backs up for future reference. Not that he looks at his past often; there’s too much going on in the present, what with Jack, their latest brood of kids, and running the Torchwood Institute.
Torchwood is one thing he can’t forget since it still exists, both the head office in Cardiff, and a number of others scattered across earth. There are even branches on distant planets, helping to foster peaceful alien-human relations and broker trade deals between the various races.
Cardiff is still home for Ianto and his family most of the time though. The city’s changed a great deal, and so has Torchwood’s base of operations. There’s a sprawling complex of buildings now where the old Hub used to be. It still exists in its remodelled form below what is now known as the Torchwood Plas, and beneath the New Hub, the archives have barely changed at all. Better lighting, better temperature and environmental controls, better storage, but still the same maze of tunnels, passageways, and rooms.
The rebuilt Hub and the archives are where Ianto goes when he wants to remember old friends, because few people who work for Torchwood ever truly leave.
“I like what’s been done with the place.” Tosh smiles. “It’s so much airier than it used to be.”
“It’s okay, I suppose,” Owen grumbles. “I liked the old place better.”
“You hated it. Said it was always cold and damp, unhygienic.” Ianto smirks.
“If you’re gonna be like that, I’ll leave.” Owen starts to fade.
Torchwood has always been haunted. Ianto rather likes that.
The End