![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
m_findlowTitle: Missing in action
Fandom: Torchwood
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Ianto
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 300 words
Content notes: None
Author notes: Written for Challenge 500 - Lost at ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
drabble_zone
drabble_zoneSummary: Ianto is in a panic over a precious item gone missing. A triple drabble.
Ianto wasn't normally one to panic, but news of recent events had left him feeling unsettled. Something bad had happened but he didn't know what, on account of the retcon he and the rest of the team had taken. Whatever it was, they weren't supposed to remember it, and that was how it had to be.
Of course, that was an extraordinary turn of events, and like all things that Ianto found interesting about his job, he liked to jot down his thoughts on it, able to speculate ideas that he might not have otherwise shared with the others. But the one safe place for those thoughts, his diary, was suddenly nowhere to be found.
It was, like the rest of his day, utterly confounding. He had a safe spot where he kept it, where Jack would never find it. It wasn't there, or in his desk drawer, tucked away in a moment of haste. It wasn't in his locker, or on the shelf amongst dusty tomes of the Torchwood Archive. It wasn't even secreted away under bags of coffee beans, which is somewhere he'd once stashed it in a hurry.
He scratched his head, his worry escalating. He'd never lost his diary. He'd never lost anything, come to think of it. He always knew where he left things – most often in the place where they belonged – but having his recollections wiped left him disturbed and worried. His diary was precious to him, and there were things in there that he didn't want to share with the world. He didn't even want to share them with Jack. But for the life of him, he couldn't find it anywhere. Was that significant or just a casualty of his memory loss?
He sucked in a deep calming breath. It would turn up.
Ianto wasn't normally one to panic, but news of recent events had left him feeling unsettled. Something bad had happened but he didn't know what, on account of the retcon he and the rest of the team had taken. Whatever it was, they weren't supposed to remember it, and that was how it had to be.
Of course, that was an extraordinary turn of events, and like all things that Ianto found interesting about his job, he liked to jot down his thoughts on it, able to speculate ideas that he might not have otherwise shared with the others. But the one safe place for those thoughts, his diary, was suddenly nowhere to be found.
It was, like the rest of his day, utterly confounding. He had a safe spot where he kept it, where Jack would never find it. It wasn't there, or in his desk drawer, tucked away in a moment of haste. It wasn't in his locker, or on the shelf amongst dusty tomes of the Torchwood Archive. It wasn't even secreted away under bags of coffee beans, which is somewhere he'd once stashed it in a hurry.
He scratched his head, his worry escalating. He'd never lost his diary. He'd never lost anything, come to think of it. He always knew where he left things – most often in the place where they belonged – but having his recollections wiped left him disturbed and worried. His diary was precious to him, and there were things in there that he didn't want to share with the world. He didn't even want to share them with Jack. But for the life of him, he couldn't find it anywhere. Was that significant or just a casualty of his memory loss?
He sucked in a deep calming breath. It would turn up.
no subject
Date: 2026-05-23 08:49 am (UTC)