Aug 17, 2008 00:28
The world moves in slow motion, an adrenaline high, and Ianto walks through it like he's wearing blinders. Careless enough in this state to PINpoint onto the front walk instead of the back garden, he leaves the door slightly ajar and his shoes (bearers of bloody footprints up the walk) on the stoop. His jacket gets lost on one of the landings of the staircase, and his tie over the banister, first one sock and then another on a trail into the bedroom.
Ianto reaches the adjoining bathroom and turns on the shower, then looks at himself in the mirror. He looks like a man on drugs, pupils blown and a dazed expression on his face, mouth hanging slack as he still gasps for air even though it's all over now. Over, with so many dead -
He hangs his head over the sink and fights the retching urge to vomit, but just barely. His PINpoint gets dropped into the basin along with his mobile and headset - which did him no good, tonight - and after a moment more, Ianto wrenches off the ring from Njoki and breaks the leather thong of the tooth-shaped talisman to toss them into the sink, too.
There's a bloody smear across the front of his dove-gray shirt, slightly shiny with someone's fingerprints where it hasn't quite dried. Ianto pushes up from the counter and, with little regard for how non sensible it is, climbs into the shower. All he can think about is the massacre, the people eaten, limbs severed, heads decapitated from bodies, and how badly he wants to forget the sight and the smell. His clothes quickly soak through and he sinks down to sit in the corner of the shower, knees drawn up to his chest.