and how you're always turning back too late; Open to fitz_fortune
(Continued from this event.)
By the time he had finished discussing Charley with the Master, all hell had broken loose. He wandered around the (somewhat panicking) crowd for a while, frantically searching for Ianto, to make certain he was okay. He told himself that dealing with Charley could wait; if what he'd been told about her spending stupidly large amounts of time with Zagreus were true... well, she'd held her own against him before, the Doctor had to make certain that his current companion was safe.
After a few hours though, and still no sign of Ianto, the Doctor comes to the conclusion that he wasn't there at all. If it was that he had been hurt, the Doctor would have found him by now. No, Ianto was simply gone.
He sits down on the ground, leaning against the TARDIS doors. His eyes are still scanning the area where the crowd had once been, now empty save for a very small number of stragglers. Ianto, he notices, is not among them. And why should he be? The time-lock was broken, he could go home now. He probably wanted to go home. After all, it wasn't as though he had started traveling with the Doctor of his own will. Circumstances as they had been, the Doctor more or less had kidnapped him. What was he, 400 years old again? Everybody leaves in the end. It only made sense that Ianto would make a break for it the moment he had the opportunity. On the bright side, he hadn't had to give any awkward farewells this time. He was so terrible at good-bye.
Still though, it might've been nice.
The Doctor sighs and leans his head back against the ship, closing his eyes.
By the time he had finished discussing Charley with the Master, all hell had broken loose. He wandered around the (somewhat panicking) crowd for a while, frantically searching for Ianto, to make certain he was okay. He told himself that dealing with Charley could wait; if what he'd been told about her spending stupidly large amounts of time with Zagreus were true... well, she'd held her own against him before, the Doctor had to make certain that his current companion was safe.
After a few hours though, and still no sign of Ianto, the Doctor comes to the conclusion that he wasn't there at all. If it was that he had been hurt, the Doctor would have found him by now. No, Ianto was simply gone.
He sits down on the ground, leaning against the TARDIS doors. His eyes are still scanning the area where the crowd had once been, now empty save for a very small number of stragglers. Ianto, he notices, is not among them. And why should he be? The time-lock was broken, he could go home now. He probably wanted to go home. After all, it wasn't as though he had started traveling with the Doctor of his own will. Circumstances as they had been, the Doctor more or less had kidnapped him. What was he, 400 years old again? Everybody leaves in the end. It only made sense that Ianto would make a break for it the moment he had the opportunity. On the bright side, he hadn't had to give any awkward farewells this time. He was so terrible at good-bye.
Still though, it might've been nice.
The Doctor sighs and leans his head back against the ship, closing his eyes.