That's what the fucking gun was for. And that's how Ianto proposes to wake him up, not in some gentle mind-prodding way like the TARDIS might. Johnny feels immensely stupid for not figuring it out earlier, and for allowing this to happen, like what did you think, idiot, the house would just let you do this, and that this random weirdo would just be able to fix it?
"Fuck you!" says Johnny shrilly, more out of surprise than anything. "I'm not into ANY kind of death!" He tosses the cigarette aggressively into the flames and shoulders his weight into the door, which of course refuses to give. Wait, this is stupid. He presses his palm against it and concentrates on making it open, giving himself a passage out.
Nothing happens. There's no time to wonder about it. He pounds his fist against the stubborn door with a strained, frustrated yell.
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That's what the fucking gun was for. And that's how Ianto proposes to wake him up, not in some gentle mind-prodding way like the TARDIS might. Johnny feels immensely stupid for not figuring it out earlier, and for allowing this to happen, like what did you think, idiot, the house would just let you do this, and that this random weirdo would just be able to fix it?
"Fuck you!" says Johnny shrilly, more out of surprise than anything. "I'm not into ANY kind of death!" He tosses the cigarette aggressively into the flames and shoulders his weight into the door, which of course refuses to give. Wait, this is stupid. He presses his palm against it and concentrates on making it open, giving himself a passage out.
Nothing happens. There's no time to wonder about it. He pounds his fist against the stubborn door with a strained, frustrated yell.