Chapter Text
”Where are we going?” Ianto grabbed onto a railing, clutching it as the TARIDS lurched.
“I have no idea,” the Doctor confessed. “The TARDIS knows best.”
“Yes,” Ianto agreed, just knowing. If he hadn't been hanging on to the railing for dear life, he would have sat down and bawled his eyes out. Too much had happened in just a few weeks. Apparently just a few hours in the other's case. He'd been clinging to the thought of going back home, to his coffee, to his team, to Jack.
Only he couldn't even look at him now, could he?
He felt jittery, hyper. The regeneration had made him feel like he'd put his fingers in a socket and been filled with electricity. Now though, the effect was wearing off slowly and he began to feel exhausted.
“Ianto?” the Doctor touched his shoulder gently. “Hey, come on. Don't do that. You'll be fine.” The Doctor handed him a handkerchief. Ianto dabbed his cheeks, embarrassed. He never cried, not really. Though he supposed that he had a legitimate reason this time. "We've landed!"
The Doctor ran across the floor, Ianto following slowly. He was in a spaceship, traveling with the mysterious Doctor, he should be thrilled. Or at least awed. Possibly slightly worried. Instead he'd never felt more miserable. And his head was still spinning, the feeling of confusion refusing to go away. He needed something familiar, something or someone that felt like home.
The Doctor cast him a worried glance before swinging the door open. “Let's see where she took us!” He stopped dead. “Oh.” He quickly excited the TARDIS. There seemed to be quite a lot of people outside, if the noise was anything to go by.
Why do I feel like this will become a habit? Ianto was a curious person by nature, but right now... right now he just wanted some peace and quiet. And coffee. He twitched, energy humming in his veins. Decaf.
“Come on,” the Doctor called. “A friend of mine has promised to take you in.”
Somehow, that wasn't very reassuring.
Ianto shuffled his way across the floor. “Does he have coffee?” he muttered.
“Actually, yes!” the Doctor beamed, ushering him on.
Ianto took one step outside before he was swept into a familiar embrace. “So here's where you went, I did wonder,” Jack mumbled into his hair. Ianto clung to him, taking long, steadying breaths.
“It's been wearing off,” the Doctor said. “He's still a fixed point, only now...” he seemed to search for words. “He's less fixed? Nooo, well yes-”
“Older,” Jack supplied, letting him go. Ianto studied him curiously, noticing small wrinkles around his eyes. Aside from that, nothing much had changed. He still felt the wrongness, only, less. It wasn't bad, just different.
“What year is it?”
“4212,” someone behind him answered. A woman with black hair, fair skin and slanting green eyes smiled kindly at him.
“You're really old Jack,” Ianto said, brain to mouth filter not working apparently. Like Ianto had gathered by the noise, it was quite crowded outside the TARDIS. People, several different species, were looking at him curiously, packed together in the middle of a blue corridor.
“He really is,” the woman who had told him the year said. “I'm Shantah.”
“Ianto.”
“I know who you are.” She grinned, hand on her bulging stomach.
“Will you, I mean-” the Doctor fiddled with his screwdriver.
“Later,” Ianto assured him. “I need a break.”
“Of course! Well, I best be getting back. I'll see you in a few months?”
“Until then,” Ianto smiled, arm around Jack's waist.