The "trouble" with Janto is...
Helloes LJ! Long time no see! Don't be afraid, this is not one of my infamous mega- updates.... nothing real life related in fact!
My last post here was asking for a beta for my drabbles (or "troubles" as I was told they should be named since they have more than 300 words each ;) ). After some poking, the person who I was hoping for replied ;) and did a wonderful job, helping me smooth out some stuff and suggesting changes. I hope you're not too upset that I didn't follow all of your suggestion tho, crowson75 !
So without any further ado...
This is the "drabble" (ficlet) I wrote for
cosmo_jenny as part of the Drabble Meme.
cosmo_jenny asked for Ianto.
Title: Fix Me
Word Count: 309
Rating: None?
Spoiler: Season 1 of Torchwood (just to be safe) - this was originally written way before CoE
A/N: This is set right after Countrycide
He closed the door carefully, locked it and hung the key on a little hook next to the wardrobe. He slipped out of his jacket and placed it over a hanger, smoothing out wrinkles with his hands before hanging it in the wardrobe. His shoes followed, neatly lined up next to each other, shoelaces tucked into the insides. He stared at the closed doors of the wardrobe for a moment, then he turned and headed for the bathroom. He washed his hands and proceeded to splash water on his face. Something was wrong. He looked down at his hands. They were shaking. He looked up into the mirror to see his reflection. Something told him that was a bad idea. Something was right. The face that looked back at him wasn't his own. It wasn't even the calm, polite, friendly mask that he had worn since Canary Wharf. This face was new. Pale with blotches of blood and dirt smeared all over it, features twisted, eyes wide, irises dilated.
The tremor moved from his hands up his arms, over his chest and abdomen, and down his legs. His knees stopped working and he sagged to the floor. His whole body was now shaking uncontrollably. Something hit the tiled floor with a loud clank. He stared at the rectangular object. Without making a conscious decision, he watched his shaking hand reaching for it and pressing the speed dial button.
“Ianto?” He flinched at the sound of the male voice in his bathroom.”Ianto? What is it?” There was impatience in that voice. Ianto wrapped his arms around his legs. He had to control the shaking. He had to reply to that voice. A dry sob escaped his lips.
There was a pause, then, “Don't move, I'll be right there.”