bound sadly home
It takes Ianto only a moment to discover that his PINpoint can be used to accidentally travel between universes, but it takes him much longer to actually do it on purpose. He sits on, stands near, paces around, and curls up on a convenient couch in the Nexus, dedicating a few minutes to fiddling with menus and buttons and the better part of an hour to coming to terms with the fact that trans-dimensional travel is possible.
The design of the PINpoint is fairly straightforward. There aren't many choices, as far as universes go: Jack's, and an entry marked 'Home'. Home. His flat. His uncomfortable bed. The need for familiarity (and rest - god, just a few hours of uninterrupted, painless sleep) wins out over his uncertainty and so he arrives, quietly, in the middle of a flat. Not his flat - a flat. Not 'Home'.
It must be a mistake, he decides, and returns to the Nexus to try again.
And returns to the flat.
He stands rooted to the spot in the middle of a living room that isn't his and thinks no, no, this is all wrong. The beige walls, the shades on the windows, the bookcases full of books - the box of pizza on the coffee table from a pizza shop he doesn't recognize. But the collection of DVDs near the telly - his favorites. The books on the shelves are titles he can just barely remember liking. There's mail under a lamp with his name printed clearly on the envelopes.
He expects himself - another Ianto, an 'alternate' - to walk through the front door any second, to explain the misunderstanding. That he's in the wrong living room, in the wrong flat, in the wrong Cardiff. He sits on the couch - stares at the pizza box, he really ought to throw it away - and waits for Ianto Jones to come home.
He never does.
Ianto sleeps on the couch like a proper guest. The next morning, he raids the closet in the upstairs bedroom (suits, so many expensive suits) for jeans, a t-shirt, and a jumper. He has toast and jam and tea for breakfast, because he can't make eggs and doesn't know how to work the coffee machine he finds in the kitchen.
Something's wrong, so wrong, and despite all evidence to the contrary he's not ready to admit that it's him.
The design of the PINpoint is fairly straightforward. There aren't many choices, as far as universes go: Jack's, and an entry marked 'Home'. Home. His flat. His uncomfortable bed. The need for familiarity (and rest - god, just a few hours of uninterrupted, painless sleep) wins out over his uncertainty and so he arrives, quietly, in the middle of a flat. Not his flat - a flat. Not 'Home'.
It must be a mistake, he decides, and returns to the Nexus to try again.
And returns to the flat.
He stands rooted to the spot in the middle of a living room that isn't his and thinks no, no, this is all wrong. The beige walls, the shades on the windows, the bookcases full of books - the box of pizza on the coffee table from a pizza shop he doesn't recognize. But the collection of DVDs near the telly - his favorites. The books on the shelves are titles he can just barely remember liking. There's mail under a lamp with his name printed clearly on the envelopes.
He expects himself - another Ianto, an 'alternate' - to walk through the front door any second, to explain the misunderstanding. That he's in the wrong living room, in the wrong flat, in the wrong Cardiff. He sits on the couch - stares at the pizza box, he really ought to throw it away - and waits for Ianto Jones to come home.
He never does.
Ianto sleeps on the couch like a proper guest. The next morning, he raids the closet in the upstairs bedroom (suits, so many expensive suits) for jeans, a t-shirt, and a jumper. He has toast and jam and tea for breakfast, because he can't make eggs and doesn't know how to work the coffee machine he finds in the kitchen.
Something's wrong, so wrong, and despite all evidence to the contrary he's not ready to admit that it's him.