One Death in.
Ianto groaned as he stretched and swore softly at the bite he felt in his shoulder.
Bloody thing had been a bug-bear since the tower fell, after all this time it was cramping.
Ianto rolled off the bed, finding his feet as he swung the arm in the hopes of loosening whatever was catching. Like he did almost every morning.
The radio was switched on for his alarm and Bon Jovi was living on a prayer.
Gotta love those golden oldies!
It wasn't until he had opened the blinds and stood scratching absently at his crotch that he saw a flaw.
"What the fuck?" Ianto hissed, reaching for the camera that sat on the windowsill, looking straight at him.
Ianto was furious. These had littered his home after the Lisa debarkle and his every move had been monitored between here and work. His only designated areas of habitation. That's what Jack had called it Designated Areas of Habitation.
Why the hell was one here now, Ianto knew it wasn't there last time he'd stayed overnight in the flat. Jack had opened the blinds and hung out the window, naked, to wolf whistle at the garbage men.
He stomped through to the bathroom and dropped it into the toilet, then let loose a stream of urine on it.
Take that, ya bastard!
Jack must have put it there, hoping to get some evening activities. Not that Jack would mind morning activities either, the tease. If he knew Ianto had found it, he would do a striptease to rival Demi Moore then show him what website their shagging was being streamed live on probably.
Ianto frowned as he spotted the bathmat, a horrible monstrosity he thought he had chucked long ago, after Jack had poured …
Ianto stood with the bathmat hanging limply as he stared into the mirror.
"What the fuck?" Ianto breathed with horror.
The young face with carefully coifed hair stared back, just as horrified.
What was really horrifying was the scar on his shoulder from Lisa throwing him into the tide pool, still raw and healing.
Ianto didn't feel the impact as he hit the floor, the dead faint saving him that.
.
.
.
"Oi!" Owen was shining a light and Ianto struggled to push the hand away.
"Fuck off Owen, my head bloody hurts" Ianto growled and then he surged forward, catching Owen in his arms, "Oh god, Owen!"
"What the fuck is wrong with ya, ya twat!" Owen huffed as he pushed Ianto back.
"Oh god" Ianto was shaking as he got to his feet and Owen frowned with confusion.
"What is wrong?" Owen asked more softly this time. As he reached for Ianto's arm. "I came to pick you up and you didn't answer, what the fuck?"
"Ianto?"
Tosh's voice was soft and so fine that Ianto spun with excitement, slid on the bathmat and careened back against the wall, ricocheted off and went down hard as Owen screamed with horror.
Once again, Ianto didn't feel a thing as he hit the cold tiles.
The crushing blow of his skull against the side of the bath sorted that for him.
..
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.
.
Ianto groaned as he stretched and swore softly at the bite he felt in his shoulder.
Shit, one of those Déjà vu moments.
He hated those.
What a fucking weird dream.
He rolled off the bed and pulled back the blinds, freezing as he saw the camera.
No.
Fucking.
Way.
"Oh, whoa, we're half way there, Oh, Oh, living on a prayer."
.
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.
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OK, here's the thing. If this is gonna be a Groundhog Day style fic, I will need things for him to try. Any thoughts? Any wants?
I will only take this so far, you guys will have to help, and I will try any suggestion within reason.
Why not, reset tomorrow, right?
You can thank WRose for giving me a prompt XXX
