Entry tags:
for Ianto
Noah's visiting Blue at Chelsea Cloisters. She seems to prefer switching back and forth between here and Hywel, and they'd had a fun evening just hanging out and catching up with each other. As he's leaving he hears a sound of distress and stops in the middle of the hallway. He gets a glimpse of someone being strangled. His mouth falls open and he disappears, reappearing where he feels the source of whatever's happening.
It's someone's bedroom, dark and cool and quiet. No one's being strangled, nothing's going on at all. The person in bed, a man, is tossing restlessly, but clearly asleep despite the little sounds he's making. Noah's reminded of Al, the way he'd had nightmares so awful he sometimes fell out of bed altogether.
He didn't know this person, but maybe it would be a favor to pull him out of his bad dreams.
Noah makes himself faded and ghostlike, the way he looked before the spell, and sits gingerly on the edge of the person's bed. He presses a cool hand to the man's forehead like a compress and whispers, "Shhh. It's okay."
It's someone's bedroom, dark and cool and quiet. No one's being strangled, nothing's going on at all. The person in bed, a man, is tossing restlessly, but clearly asleep despite the little sounds he's making. Noah's reminded of Al, the way he'd had nightmares so awful he sometimes fell out of bed altogether.
He didn't know this person, but maybe it would be a favor to pull him out of his bad dreams.
Noah makes himself faded and ghostlike, the way he looked before the spell, and sits gingerly on the edge of the person's bed. He presses a cool hand to the man's forehead like a compress and whispers, "Shhh. It's okay."
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"You could hear me?" he asks, and he wants to sit, but for now he stays laying down, looking up at the person (being?) next to him. "Am I awake now?"
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"What's your name?"
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"I'm Ianto," he says, his breathing easy and normal now, only the last strings of memories from the dreams remain. "Who are you?"
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"I didn't think you'd be able to touch one," he says, a little curious as to why he's not afraid, having a ghost touching him. It's actually very pleasant, and Ianto sighs at how calm he feels.
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"You can touch me," he offered, holding out his human looking hand. He made sure it was warm now, not cool.
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"Does it hurt?" he found himself asking. "Being a ghost?"
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It felt a little awkward, sitting over Ianto, so he moved to his stomach, laying down instead. He folded his legs, ankles crossed, and looked across the bed at Ianto.
"Do you want to talk about your dreams?"
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He curls onto his side so he can see Noah better, blinking at his soft, kind face.
"I've had this nightmare a few times in the last few months," he says. "They started before I came here, but only just. And I... I don't know what they mean," he goes on , trying not too think too hard about the images in his head. They're so awful.
"I'm... Hurting people. Women, mostly, but sometimes others. And they're always helpless, and I'm just..." He takes a breath, his eyes moving away for a moment before he turns them back to Noah's face. "I want to hurt them. That's all I want."
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"It's not something that happened in real life?" he asks, reaching out to touch Ianto's hand. "Or maybe something you saw? It could just have been from a movie. I snuck the Nightmare on Elm Street movies when I was a kid, and I had nightmares for months about Freddy chasing me."
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"I'm not a bad person," Ianto says after a moment, his voice quavering a little. "I know I'm not. But I feel like, like it's real."
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"Torchwood is where I worked," he tells Noah. "We investigated strange occurrences, aliens, people who ended up in the wrong time, demons," he tries to explain, never quite sure how to put it. "But not murderers," he adds softly. "Not regular human murderers."
He takes a breath. "Sometimes I wonder if there's a way to see if it is in my memory," he tells Noah, his voice shaking a little. "But then I'm afraid I'll learn something I don't want to remember."
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"Maybe it's your mind's way of processing things you have seen," Noah offers as another possibly explanation. "Isn't that what they say dreaming is about? Maybe you've seen so many things, that's how it's working through it."
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"You're probably right," he tells Noah, smiling softly. "I don't know why I can't have nice dreams sometimes," he goes on, fiddling with the hem of his blanket. "I can't remember the last good one I've had."
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He takes a breath, giving Noah a soft smile. "I feel a lot better, actually," he says, and he means it. "I've not told anyone else about that dream before. It feels good to get it off my chest a little." He pauses, squeezing Noah's hand back. "Thank you, Noah."
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"Do you want to try to sleep again? I can stay, if you want."
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He tucks himself in next Ianto, snuggling instead of holding hands. "Just relax, close your eyes, and think of something nice."