Mirror Image
Disclaimers: Torchwood is not mine. It is owned by BBC One, and created by Russell T. Davies.
Summary: They say that mirrors reflect your own self, and shows you exactly who you are. But what if you and your reflection were two different people? He had found out the hard way. Now, Another Ianto is wreaking havoc in Cardiff while the Real Ianto is finding a way to stop this.
Author's Notes: I have kept this plot in my head for years. Long have I waited until I found the right show. Thank God for Torchwood.
Prologue
He ran as far as his legs could take him, his feet barely touching the ground. He could hear the sirens wailing from a distance, and the loudness of the alarms only tempted him to fly. He turned in every corner, hoping to mislead those after him. He knew each nook and cranny of the streets, and most of the time knew exactly where to hide. Most of the time. There were moments wherein he overlooked a certain detail, or failed to plan thoroughly his wrong intentions, and it was at those times where he would end up waiting for bail behind bars.
But this night, he felt extremely lucky.
He sharply turned to a corner leading to an alleyway, one with a wall at the far end. He jumped and grabbed the top of the wall, pulling himself up and out the other side. From afar, he could spot a small warehouse and immediately sprinted towards it. As he neared the metal housing, the sound of his pursuers died down to a complete silence and he grinned inwardly in triumph.
When he reached the entrance of the warehouse, he quickly, albeit noisily, closed the door and barred it shut. His gasps for air were what resonated in the building, and his heart pushed against his ribcage from that intense chase, threatening to jump out of his chest. But he couldn't die at that moment, oh no. Not when he had stolen the most amazing artifact from an antique shop.
He glanced at his black sling bag and took out that which was placed inside—a mirror. He was told rumors and legends about this object; stories that told of alternate dimensions and other selves. How could he be not intrigued? He absolutely hated, from the bottom of his heart, this pathetic wasteland he had put up with for so long.
He had tried to find ways to leave; to disappear from this place and never come back. He never was successful, as if he was tied down by demons that utterly refuse to let him go free and let him be tormented by memories so painful he could just die. Not like he hasn't tried to before.
Now, he can finally be freed from those chains that bind him. All hope was at hand's grasp, and nothing could stop him now.
Further Author's Notes: Read and review, please? :)