At one point, Torchwood was all he had. Then it was Jack, with his bloody charisma and pheromones. Now it is the hunt, that pumping of adrenaline through his veins when he is about to kill someone, trap them in an alleyway.
Only two out of the three are real. He remembers Torchwood, craves it. Even in their worst moments he felt more like Torchwood was his family than his biological one. He doesn't feel like he belongs in the Jones family, with his high cheekbones and striking eyes. He's always considered himself too smart as well, but he knows that's arrogance. Rhi is smart, in her own way. She doesn't fool herself into thinking that there's something better than having children and just existing. Ianto wants more, and that's why he's here, in a cold sweat, trying to separate reality from fantasy.
Where does he want to be? With Jack is a simple answer, but he's not even sure if he's capable of that anymore.
"Here," he whispers. "As myself." The funny thing is, he's perfectly capable of hating Jack. He has it within him to be himself again, free of the bloodlust, and hate Jack. He certainly has reasons to, from Lisa to the way Jack looks at Gwen when he thinks no one is looking. This Jack doesn't do that, and even though they don't know each other, Ianto can't make himself hate Jack.
He calms down, just barely, even though he's still shaking. It's a start; he's not panicking anymore.
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Only two out of the three are real. He remembers Torchwood, craves it. Even in their worst moments he felt more like Torchwood was his family than his biological one. He doesn't feel like he belongs in the Jones family, with his high cheekbones and striking eyes. He's always considered himself too smart as well, but he knows that's arrogance. Rhi is smart, in her own way. She doesn't fool herself into thinking that there's something better than having children and just existing. Ianto wants more, and that's why he's here, in a cold sweat, trying to separate reality from fantasy.
Where does he want to be? With Jack is a simple answer, but he's not even sure if he's capable of that anymore.
"Here," he whispers. "As myself." The funny thing is, he's perfectly capable of hating Jack. He has it within him to be himself again, free of the bloodlust, and hate Jack. He certainly has reasons to, from Lisa to the way Jack looks at Gwen when he thinks no one is looking. This Jack doesn't do that, and even though they don't know each other, Ianto can't make himself hate Jack.
He calms down, just barely, even though he's still shaking. It's a start; he's not panicking anymore.