Ianto
I was blind, deaf and dumb to the world, only Jack remained. I was shrouded by his embrace and had no concept of where I was, what I had been doing and why. I wasn't even certain of my own name. All I could be sure of was Jack. Captain Jack Harkness with his hair so easy to run fingers through; his eyes so aged and yet ageless; his hands so warm on my skin; his mouth so enticing to capture; and his enigmatic personality, like a mystery that needed solving. Jack was the only constant in my life, a necessity. I couldn't think when he was so close.
Then I could think. Arms that had once held Jack's magnificent body were suddenly empty. I slowly allowed my arms to return to my sides and opened my eyes to see why he had stopped.
I had moved! I had literally been teleported to somewhere entirely different. It seemed familiar somehow. The wide open space I stood on was close to water; I could hear the steady lapping nearby and as I turned the niggling recognition in my mind evolved into understanding.
There was a small building site which would later produce the Water Tower on Roald Dahl Plass. I worked underneath there. I must have been taken by an Angel.
Tears pricked at my eyes. I was all alone in a foreign time period. Jack would know what to do, I thought.
I sank to the ground and sobbed. My entire being ached with longing for my... my Jack. I thought of all the things I was going to say to Jack, all the things we were going to do and all the plans we had made. What would I do if I never saw him again? How would I ever get over him? I couldn't find an answer.
"-it almost makes you want to shoot someone, doesn't it?"
I whipped around.
That voice was a voice I knew well, one which could be likened to the song of an angel, it was Jack's. He was here, in Cardiff!
He was striding across the Plass with a few people I recognised from old archive photos and he was wearing that coat. That billowing, beautiful, glorious coat. Pulling myself up from the ground, I felt my need for Jack battling with the knowledge that speaking to him could cause a paradox and potentially erase the short time I had had with him. That thought won the fight and I fled towards the Bay.
I leant back against a wall, panting. What could I do now? I needed to think like Jack. Where would he look?