InsaneJournal

Ianto, as was his habit, was up early and outside as not to disturb the other sleepers.  There was a deep sense of things trying to get back to what passed as normal around here and he had every intention of letting it.  Some degree of stability was needed, even if they were captives.  Even he knew that.  Otherwise they'd all just break, no matter what he told Jack.

Ianto wasn't losing hope, though.  Not yet.

In fact, he felt very good.  Very very good.  He sat, with his journal on his lap and what passed for breakfast at his knee and for some reason, this struck him as insanely funny.  A giggle bubbled up out of his throat, surprising him greatly, given that he wasn't one to giggle.  Ever.  Chuckle, maybe.  Belly laugh?  Once or twice.  But giggle...?  The very idea set off another round of the blasted things and in no time at all, Ianto was laughing his head off at the idea of giggling.  His arms wound round himself, holding his sides and tears were just beginning to roll down his face.

And every time he managed to get himself under control again, something would set him off.   Like the idea of the Doctor at the Carnival.  Or his mismatched wellies.  Or the RAF coat he was wearing.  Or the fact that his sides hurt.  It was a constant battle, but one he was losing.

But damn, didn't it feel good to laugh like this!