Rambling Thoughts of a Lost Welshman
Title: Rambling Thoughts of a Lost Welshman
Characters: Ianto, mentions Jack and the team
Rating: PG
Warnings: unbeta'd. I needed to write something... just to prove that I still could. Thus, Ramblings.
Summary: Sometimes, when someone becomes such a part of your life, and then are gone suddenly... its like a part of you is missing. Like you are no longer 100 %.
A/N ... I am having serious writing issues lately. I didn't completely force this one, it just happened.... I'm hoping to jumpstart my creativity again, cause it seems to be mostly dead and twitching. Also, I really really miss Ramblings. Even if this doesn't necessarily fit the rest of the genre.
Rambling Thoughts of a Lost Welshman
He wanders the halls of the Archives. He searches through files and over cabinets and in the little random cubbyholes that line the corridors. He can’t find what he’s looking for. He’s lost something… a part of him and he can’t understand where it has gone. He never loses things and is now distressed.
He checks his pockets for the 30th time today. If only he could figure out what he was missing, than it would be ok. He’d be ok. He could find it and fix it. Sometimes he’s not sure its tangible, this thing that’s missing. Was it a name? A bit of information? Perhaps a random artifact that was misfiled.
He asks Tosh, brilliant Tosh, but Tosh doesn’t know. Neither does Gwen. And when he asks Owen, he gets nothing but snark. But that’s Owen.
He knows everything. Really he does. ‘Specially when it’s written at the bottom of the screen. But this time there’s no screen. And he’s not sure he’d recognize it from the other hundreds of things that may or may not be written there, even if there was a screen. It’s unnerving him to not know what he’s missing. It means there’s something he doesn’t know.
Dammit, if Jack were here, he could ask Jack. Funny how the sense of “lost thing” grows when he thinks about Jack. Which he might notice more if he thought about Jack less. As it the sense of lost thing is pretty intense most of the time. So are his thoughts of Jack. But he doesn’t dwell on that.
What he does dwell on, is this feeling in his heart. This utter devestation that is being wrought to his psyche as he attempts to put his soul back together, which just can’t happen because there’s something missing.
It’s been missing ever since Jack left.
But for some reason, the missing piece and the missing Jack refuse to associate in his head.
His daily search continues…. Now if only he could figure out what was missing…
Characters: Ianto, mentions Jack and the team
Rating: PG
Warnings: unbeta'd. I needed to write something... just to prove that I still could. Thus, Ramblings.
Summary: Sometimes, when someone becomes such a part of your life, and then are gone suddenly... its like a part of you is missing. Like you are no longer 100 %.
A/N ... I am having serious writing issues lately. I didn't completely force this one, it just happened.... I'm hoping to jumpstart my creativity again, cause it seems to be mostly dead and twitching. Also, I really really miss Ramblings. Even if this doesn't necessarily fit the rest of the genre.
Rambling Thoughts of a Lost Welshman
He wanders the halls of the Archives. He searches through files and over cabinets and in the little random cubbyholes that line the corridors. He can’t find what he’s looking for. He’s lost something… a part of him and he can’t understand where it has gone. He never loses things and is now distressed.
He checks his pockets for the 30th time today. If only he could figure out what he was missing, than it would be ok. He’d be ok. He could find it and fix it. Sometimes he’s not sure its tangible, this thing that’s missing. Was it a name? A bit of information? Perhaps a random artifact that was misfiled.
He asks Tosh, brilliant Tosh, but Tosh doesn’t know. Neither does Gwen. And when he asks Owen, he gets nothing but snark. But that’s Owen.
He knows everything. Really he does. ‘Specially when it’s written at the bottom of the screen. But this time there’s no screen. And he’s not sure he’d recognize it from the other hundreds of things that may or may not be written there, even if there was a screen. It’s unnerving him to not know what he’s missing. It means there’s something he doesn’t know.
Dammit, if Jack were here, he could ask Jack. Funny how the sense of “lost thing” grows when he thinks about Jack. Which he might notice more if he thought about Jack less. As it the sense of lost thing is pretty intense most of the time. So are his thoughts of Jack. But he doesn’t dwell on that.
What he does dwell on, is this feeling in his heart. This utter devestation that is being wrought to his psyche as he attempts to put his soul back together, which just can’t happen because there’s something missing.
It’s been missing ever since Jack left.
But for some reason, the missing piece and the missing Jack refuse to associate in his head.
His daily search continues…. Now if only he could figure out what was missing…