Fic: From Bad To Worse
Title: From Bad To Worse
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Jack, Ianto, Owen, Tosh.
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: Some days start off bad and just keep getting worse. Jack just wishes he could start this day over and do things differently.
Word Count: 1563
Written For: Prompt 195 - Bad Day at fandomweekly.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters. They belong to the BBC.
Some days were simply doomed, starting out bad and going steadily downhill from there; Torchwood just seemed to do it to extremes. To make everything so much worse, this one had started out being terrible at a ridiculously early hour, with a Rift alert coming through on Jack’s wrist strap a little after four in the morning. The sole saving grace was that he and Ianto had managed to get to bed early the night before, if midnight could be described as early. By Torchwood standards, it probably qualified.
Jack would have willingly handled the alert by himself, leaving his lover to sleep, but Ianto had insisted on going with him on the grounds that he was awake now anyway, and that with two of them searching, they’d be able to cover more ground. With any luck, he’d said, they could locate whatever had come through quickly, and make it back to bed in time to grab a couple more hours’ sleep before they had to get up.
He’d very nearly been right, because finding the latest Rift Gift had taken them less than half an hour. On this occasion, however, if might have been better if it had taken longer, because Jack was barely three feet from it, and crouching down to see what it was, when it exploded. To say that it made a mess of him would have been a serious understatement.
Unsurprisingly, he was killed instantly; even he couldn’t survive having half of his head blown off. Ianto had sat with his lover’s body for almost an hour while the missing parts gradually regenerated. It wasn’t a pretty sight, but then it wasn’t exactly fun for Jack either, especially since he revived before he was fully healed.
As if all that wasn’t enough to deal with, Jack had no sooner made it shakily to his feet, assisted by Ianto, when there came a deafening boom of thunder, a dazzling flash of lightning, and the heavens opened. The wind had already been blustery, but now it slammed into them with such force that Jack would have fallen again if Ianto hadn’t still been holding onto him.
“Oh, today’s off to a great start,” he muttered sarcastically as Jack clung to him, shivering from the sudden downpour. “Come on. If you’re okay to walk we’d best head back to the car. At least I won’t have to do clean-up; the rain should wash all the blood away.” Working for Torchwood, sometimes you had to look on the bright side, even if was often hard to find one.
Holding tightly to each other, heads down against the wind and the driving rain, already nearly soaked to the skin, they set off towards where they’d left the SUV. Unfortunately, thanks to roadworks, construction, the one-way system, and the inconvenient spot the Rift had chosen to deposit its latest find, they’d ended up having to walk the last mile or so to the point of arrival. It had seemed like a pleasant stroll earlier, but the return trip through pouring rain and gale-force winds was proving an arduous trek. Even taking the shortest route possible, which meant cutting through some of the city’s darkest and dankest alleyways, wasn’t going to make much difference distance-wise but, eager to get out of the rain as soon as possible, they took the chance anyway which, in retrospect, was a huge mistake.
On any other night, with better weather, and when Jack wasn’t still recovering from a particularly harrowing death, running into a couple of Weevils wouldn’t have been a problem. But the Weevils weren’t enjoying the storm any more than the humans were, and visibility was so bad that Jack and Ianto didn’t know they were there, hunkered down behind a skip, until they were almost on top of them. With no Weevil spray, sedatives, wrist-clamps, or hoods to hand, and their guns still in their holsters, it was far from an even fight, and although Jack managed to draw his Webley and drive both of the toothy aliens off, by the time he did, Ianto was already down.
Finding Ianto’s phone, Jack called Owen and ordered him to meet them at the Hub. Then, despite still feeling weak and shaky from his recent death, he picked his lover up, carried him the rest of the way to the SUV, where he tended Ianto’s injuries as best he could before driving back to base as fast as he dared. The storm was raging overhead, the roads awash with water, and the almost continuous lightning made the poor visibility even worse, turning what should have been a quick and easy drive through empty streets into a seemingly endless surreal nightmare. By the time he got there and parked the SUV in the underground garage, it was almost six in the morning.
Carrying Ianto down to the med bay, where Owen was ready and waiting, Jack spent the next couple of hours helping the medic treat Ianto’s wounds. He’d lost a lot of blood, and Owen had to use every drop of Ianto’s blood type he had available, plus some of Jack’s since he, like most fifty-first century humans, was a universal donor. When the girls arrived, Owen was just finishing up. Ianto was still in a serious condition, but according to Owen, he was stable.
The storm continued to rage all day, and the Rift seemed to be following its example, inundating Cardiff with random objects almost continuously. Owen obviously needed to remain at the Hub with his patient, and Jack would have preferred to stay by his lover’s side, but he couldn’t leave all the work to Tosh and Gwen. He’d never wanted to be the boss, but on days like this he really hated it.
All day long, the three of them were in and out, collecting the objects the Rift bestowed on them, getting repeatedly drenched, barely having time to toss their clothes into the dryer and change into something that wasn’t sopping wet before having to go outside again. It was like being trapped in a waking nightmare.
Every time he returned to base, even before drying himself, Jack immediately dripped his way down to the medical bay to check on Ianto, and every time the news was the same: he was stable, but still in critical condition. Despite dying twice more during the course of the day, Jack kept trying to breathe life into his lover, hoping that he could pass on some of his own regenerative energy and help Ianto to heal. He didn’t know if it was making any difference, or even if he had enough to spare, but he had to keep trying because he couldn’t help feeling this was all his fault. If he’d only insisted on handling that morning’s Rift alert alone, Ianto wouldn’t have been injured in the first place.
“How’re you holding up?” Tosh asked, offering Jack a cup of coffee from the café across the Plas.
“I just want today to be over, or better yet, to never have happened,” Jack admitted. He’d had bad days before, when nothing seemed to go right, but looking back, compared to this one they all paled to insignificance. This was hands down the worst day he could remember.
“Ianto will be fine.” Tosh squeezed Jack’s hand. “He’s strong.”
“I hope you’re right.” Jack sipped from the cup, not caring that the coffee was still much too hot to drink, and watched Ianto breathe, praying to any gods who might be listening that the man he loved would make a full recovery. It wasn’t until late in the evening, when the Rift had finally calmed down and he’d sent the girls home, that his prayers were finally answered.
“He’s going to be fine,” Owen said, sounding as exhausted as Jack felt.
A surge of relief swept through Jack, but he didn’t dare get his hopes up, not quite yet. “You’re sure?”
Owen nodded. “Looks like whatever you were trying to do with all the snogging worked. Heartbeat’s strong, his colour’s good, temperature normal, no sign of infection. Even the worst of his injuries is showing signs of healing. He’s still out, but that’s only to be expected. He’s been through a lot.”
Jack smiled weakly. “Thank you.”
“Not sure I had all that much to do with it,” Owen said. “All I did was stitch him up and pour a few units of blood into him. But if you feel like givin’ me a raise out of gratitude…”
“I’ll consider it. You should get some rest. I’ll sit with Ianto.”
“I’ll go kip on the sofa for a bit then. Wake me in a couple of hours.” Owen trekked up the steps and disappeared from view.
Jack watched him go, then leaned over Ianto and kissed him again. He would willingly give his lover every scrap of life energy he had if it would help him heal. Drawing back, he watched as a scabbed over cut on Ianto’s neck faded away to nothing, managing a tired smile. As bad as today had been, it would soon be over, and hopefully tomorrow would be better. Pulling a chair over to the bed, Jack sat down, settled as comfortably as he could, and took Ianto’s hand, determined to be there when he woke up, just as Ianto always was for him.
The End
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Jack, Ianto, Owen, Tosh.
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: Some days start off bad and just keep getting worse. Jack just wishes he could start this day over and do things differently.
Word Count: 1563
Written For: Prompt 195 - Bad Day at fandomweekly.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters. They belong to the BBC.
Some days were simply doomed, starting out bad and going steadily downhill from there; Torchwood just seemed to do it to extremes. To make everything so much worse, this one had started out being terrible at a ridiculously early hour, with a Rift alert coming through on Jack’s wrist strap a little after four in the morning. The sole saving grace was that he and Ianto had managed to get to bed early the night before, if midnight could be described as early. By Torchwood standards, it probably qualified.
Jack would have willingly handled the alert by himself, leaving his lover to sleep, but Ianto had insisted on going with him on the grounds that he was awake now anyway, and that with two of them searching, they’d be able to cover more ground. With any luck, he’d said, they could locate whatever had come through quickly, and make it back to bed in time to grab a couple more hours’ sleep before they had to get up.
He’d very nearly been right, because finding the latest Rift Gift had taken them less than half an hour. On this occasion, however, if might have been better if it had taken longer, because Jack was barely three feet from it, and crouching down to see what it was, when it exploded. To say that it made a mess of him would have been a serious understatement.
Unsurprisingly, he was killed instantly; even he couldn’t survive having half of his head blown off. Ianto had sat with his lover’s body for almost an hour while the missing parts gradually regenerated. It wasn’t a pretty sight, but then it wasn’t exactly fun for Jack either, especially since he revived before he was fully healed.
As if all that wasn’t enough to deal with, Jack had no sooner made it shakily to his feet, assisted by Ianto, when there came a deafening boom of thunder, a dazzling flash of lightning, and the heavens opened. The wind had already been blustery, but now it slammed into them with such force that Jack would have fallen again if Ianto hadn’t still been holding onto him.
“Oh, today’s off to a great start,” he muttered sarcastically as Jack clung to him, shivering from the sudden downpour. “Come on. If you’re okay to walk we’d best head back to the car. At least I won’t have to do clean-up; the rain should wash all the blood away.” Working for Torchwood, sometimes you had to look on the bright side, even if was often hard to find one.
Holding tightly to each other, heads down against the wind and the driving rain, already nearly soaked to the skin, they set off towards where they’d left the SUV. Unfortunately, thanks to roadworks, construction, the one-way system, and the inconvenient spot the Rift had chosen to deposit its latest find, they’d ended up having to walk the last mile or so to the point of arrival. It had seemed like a pleasant stroll earlier, but the return trip through pouring rain and gale-force winds was proving an arduous trek. Even taking the shortest route possible, which meant cutting through some of the city’s darkest and dankest alleyways, wasn’t going to make much difference distance-wise but, eager to get out of the rain as soon as possible, they took the chance anyway which, in retrospect, was a huge mistake.
On any other night, with better weather, and when Jack wasn’t still recovering from a particularly harrowing death, running into a couple of Weevils wouldn’t have been a problem. But the Weevils weren’t enjoying the storm any more than the humans were, and visibility was so bad that Jack and Ianto didn’t know they were there, hunkered down behind a skip, until they were almost on top of them. With no Weevil spray, sedatives, wrist-clamps, or hoods to hand, and their guns still in their holsters, it was far from an even fight, and although Jack managed to draw his Webley and drive both of the toothy aliens off, by the time he did, Ianto was already down.
Finding Ianto’s phone, Jack called Owen and ordered him to meet them at the Hub. Then, despite still feeling weak and shaky from his recent death, he picked his lover up, carried him the rest of the way to the SUV, where he tended Ianto’s injuries as best he could before driving back to base as fast as he dared. The storm was raging overhead, the roads awash with water, and the almost continuous lightning made the poor visibility even worse, turning what should have been a quick and easy drive through empty streets into a seemingly endless surreal nightmare. By the time he got there and parked the SUV in the underground garage, it was almost six in the morning.
Carrying Ianto down to the med bay, where Owen was ready and waiting, Jack spent the next couple of hours helping the medic treat Ianto’s wounds. He’d lost a lot of blood, and Owen had to use every drop of Ianto’s blood type he had available, plus some of Jack’s since he, like most fifty-first century humans, was a universal donor. When the girls arrived, Owen was just finishing up. Ianto was still in a serious condition, but according to Owen, he was stable.
The storm continued to rage all day, and the Rift seemed to be following its example, inundating Cardiff with random objects almost continuously. Owen obviously needed to remain at the Hub with his patient, and Jack would have preferred to stay by his lover’s side, but he couldn’t leave all the work to Tosh and Gwen. He’d never wanted to be the boss, but on days like this he really hated it.
All day long, the three of them were in and out, collecting the objects the Rift bestowed on them, getting repeatedly drenched, barely having time to toss their clothes into the dryer and change into something that wasn’t sopping wet before having to go outside again. It was like being trapped in a waking nightmare.
Every time he returned to base, even before drying himself, Jack immediately dripped his way down to the medical bay to check on Ianto, and every time the news was the same: he was stable, but still in critical condition. Despite dying twice more during the course of the day, Jack kept trying to breathe life into his lover, hoping that he could pass on some of his own regenerative energy and help Ianto to heal. He didn’t know if it was making any difference, or even if he had enough to spare, but he had to keep trying because he couldn’t help feeling this was all his fault. If he’d only insisted on handling that morning’s Rift alert alone, Ianto wouldn’t have been injured in the first place.
“How’re you holding up?” Tosh asked, offering Jack a cup of coffee from the café across the Plas.
“I just want today to be over, or better yet, to never have happened,” Jack admitted. He’d had bad days before, when nothing seemed to go right, but looking back, compared to this one they all paled to insignificance. This was hands down the worst day he could remember.
“Ianto will be fine.” Tosh squeezed Jack’s hand. “He’s strong.”
“I hope you’re right.” Jack sipped from the cup, not caring that the coffee was still much too hot to drink, and watched Ianto breathe, praying to any gods who might be listening that the man he loved would make a full recovery. It wasn’t until late in the evening, when the Rift had finally calmed down and he’d sent the girls home, that his prayers were finally answered.
“He’s going to be fine,” Owen said, sounding as exhausted as Jack felt.
A surge of relief swept through Jack, but he didn’t dare get his hopes up, not quite yet. “You’re sure?”
Owen nodded. “Looks like whatever you were trying to do with all the snogging worked. Heartbeat’s strong, his colour’s good, temperature normal, no sign of infection. Even the worst of his injuries is showing signs of healing. He’s still out, but that’s only to be expected. He’s been through a lot.”
Jack smiled weakly. “Thank you.”
“Not sure I had all that much to do with it,” Owen said. “All I did was stitch him up and pour a few units of blood into him. But if you feel like givin’ me a raise out of gratitude…”
“I’ll consider it. You should get some rest. I’ll sit with Ianto.”
“I’ll go kip on the sofa for a bit then. Wake me in a couple of hours.” Owen trekked up the steps and disappeared from view.
Jack watched him go, then leaned over Ianto and kissed him again. He would willingly give his lover every scrap of life energy he had if it would help him heal. Drawing back, he watched as a scabbed over cut on Ianto’s neck faded away to nothing, managing a tired smile. As bad as today had been, it would soon be over, and hopefully tomorrow would be better. Pulling a chair over to the bed, Jack sat down, settled as comfortably as he could, and took Ianto’s hand, determined to be there when he woke up, just as Ianto always was for him.
The End