It wasn’t jealousy. No, Ianto Jones didn’t experience jealousy. He couldn’t allow himself to believe that he was actually jealous of that fact that Jack had moved on, just like the Welshman had wanted him to.
Going to the States to see Jack was completely out of the question. Ianto knew that he would do something that he would regret and that couldn’t happen. He respected himself too much as a person for that to become an actuality. Not that Jack wasn’t worth it, because he was. Jack was so worth all the hassle and the complications…Or at least, that was what Ianto believed.
“…You’re a bloody fool, Ianto Jones…” He murmured under his breath, letting his head drop into his hands.
Even though he knew Jack wasn’t his to be jealous over, Ianto couldn’t quite help it. He had died, therefore he knew that meant all previous claims of monogamy were henceforth null and void, but he really could not help himself. Even the mere though of Jack with this…John Winchester guy, made his skin crawl.
‘Let him go, Jones,’ Ianto thought to himself, giving up on talking to himself because that was just bloody weird. ‘He’s not yours anymore. Let. Him. Go.’ And as much as he wanted to believe he could do that, he couldn’t stop himself from pining…Although pining was an operative word and Ianto liked to describe it as ‘melancholic wanting’.
He knew he could quite have easily gone over to the States and tried to get Jack back, but that wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair on John Winchester, and it certainly wasn’t fair on Jack’s child.
He was conflicted, and that was the only accurate description for it.
It’s like a rush. A sudden burst of adrenaline that surges through his body, forcing air into his lungs. He cries out brokenly, desperately gasping for the air he’s been deprived of for too long.
He doesn’t even know where he is, can’t tell through the darkness, isn’t sure if he wants to know or not. The last thing he remembers is…
Jack.
The darkness is crushing. It’s all around him and no matter which way he looks, he can’t escape it. It’s everywhere. He’s glad he’s not claustrophobic, or else this would have been killing him…Killed. Dead. He’s dead and he remembers it all now. It’s that, doubled with the cold that’s beginning to set in, which leads him to realise that he’s in cold storage.
“…H-Help!”
He’s shivering by this point, his voice hoarse from lack of use. He knows he’s not in Torchwood, he remembers the Hub being blown up, so where is he?
He needs to get out. He needs to find Gwen and Jack, to see if they’re okay. And more importantly, he needs to figure out why he’s now alive.
Jones, Ianto Jones.
I'm back. I don't know how, but I am...I guess I should start making the tea then.
[ Part of the Superwho RP. ]
RANDOM RP FILLER POSTS.
