I brought you here to heal you (Jack, Ianto; PG), 2/2
Title: I brought you here to heal you (2/2)
Author: etharei
Rating: PG
Timeline: after "Greeks Giving Gifts" (107)
Spoilers: "Cyberwoman" (104), "Countrycide" (106), "Greeks Giving Gifts" (107)
Summary: He hadn’t planned on leaving anything, but there’s a man selling flowers down the street. It suits his mood, to leave such transient tokens for all the hundreds of dead; might as well not pretend that anything lasts forever.
Author's Notes: So tired... THANK YOU to everybody who commented in the first part, feedback is like an IV drip to the slowly dying muses.
Disclaimer: Torchwood and all the characters and situations featured therein are the property of Russell T. Davies, the BBC and their affiliates. I’m only borrowing them for purely non-profit, recreational purposes.
Written for: horizonssing, Day #19.
I brought you here to heal you (2/2)
by Etharei
Life comes in a shock. He expects it to be white-blue, for some reason, metallic and cold pain; instead it is gold, hot, a living sun and breath.
“Stay here, damn you. Stop making me let you go.”
There’s nothing left.
He’s not sure why he returns. The weight of his failure with Lisa grows heavier every day; he’s no Atlas, only human, and the world is compressing him to a mechanical routine, action and reaction, a logic circuit without a protective shell. Maybe the Cybermen had succeeded after all, in many small unexpected ways.
Except, Jack has spared him. Not forgiven, maybe never, but Ianto is back at work. Back to handling technology capable of death and destruction, the history of Torchwood Institute under his fingertips, and delivering the team’s food and drink. Almost as if Jack is daring him to retaliate, to carry out his threats.
And then there’s the way Jack looks at him, sometimes.
It doesn’t make sense. Ianto can’t understand - doesn’t want to.
Nothing recognizable remains. The city will grow over everything, as it has for hundreds of years; Torchwood London will go the way of the Roman fortress of Londinia. Ghosts, but the good kind.
He hadn’t planned on leaving anything, but there’s a man selling flowers down the street. It suits his mood, to leave such transient tokens for all the hundreds of dead; might as well not pretend that anything lasts forever.
Bright. Ow. His eyes automatically squint, and the stabbing white gradually fades into colors and shapes.
“Finally awake, then?” a cheerful voice speaks from somewhere above.
Ianto’s eyes snap open in alarm. “Where am I?” After passage through his dry throat, the words sound more like “Whhrghai?” but the owner of the voice seems to understand.
“St. Mary’s hospital, love.” Hands move under his head and shift his pillow, before bringing forth a plastic cup filled with water. “Drink up.”
He obeys, and his eyes focus on the nurse’s face, and the wide smile to match her voice.
“There. How are we feeling then?”
“Fine,” he replies, pushing himself up to a sitting position despite a disapproving look from the nurse and a deep drug-numbed twinge from under the thick bandages around his thigh. He doesn’t want to ask, but it’d look suspicious if he doesn’t, and he’s confused enough to not need to pretend. “What happened?”
“Got electrocuted.” The nurse picks up the clipboard at the foot of his desk, her tone still worryingly bright. “And nearly skewered yourself on a stick when you fell over. Absolutely shameful, the Council letting live wires lie about. You’re lucky your friend knew CPR, your heart stopped before the ambulance could get there.”
“My friend?” Jack? Or Tosh? And why had they called an ambulance, instead of taking him back to the Hub?
The grin on the nurse’s face is answer enough. “Calls himself Captain Jack.” She winks at him. “You’ve got half the nursing staff right jealous of you, you know.”
What? “What?”
“You don’t have to be shy about it,” she continues, very matter-of-fact. “The paramedics say that he didn’t let go of your hand the whole ride here.”
Ianto groans
“Oh, don’t be like that. Poor bloke was nearly out of his mind by the time they wheeled you in. We finally got him to go home an hour ago, and we had to promise to call him when you wake up.” She gives him a questioning look. “Unless you don’t want him to know?”
Sighing, Ianto waves his hand dismissively. “No, go ahead. I just... I’ve had a bit too much of him, lately.”
The nurse makes a sympathetic noise. “Happens to the best of us, sweetheart. But if I had a man that gorgeous and that into me, I’d think twice about letting him go.” She surreptitiously glances through the glass windows of the private room, as if expecting another nurse to chide her for gossiping. It strikes Ianto just how young she looks, though she can’t be that far from his age. “You and me, we clean up well and we’re not bad on the eyes, but blokes like your Jack can sit back and let the fish come to them, if you get my meaning."
Ianto wonders if he had died and gone to some kind of specialized hell. “Yeah,” he mutters weakly.
“I’ll go tell the doctor that you’re up. You should think of a way to thank Captain Jack for those,” adds the nurse with another suggestive wink, nodding towards the table next to Ianto’s bed.
Turning and ignoring the protests of his muscles, Ianto realizes that the pleasant scent that’s been lightly teasing his nose since waking is coming from a bouquet of bright flowers. He stares at them, not comprehending their existence for a moment. There’s no card, but it’s not as if the flowers could have come from anyone else. They’re not quite the traditional flowers for the hospital bedside. That is, they’re not the traditional flowers an employer would give his employee for getting injured in the job.
Rolling his eyes at the unreasonable complexities of human interactions, Ianto lies back down to contemplate the insides of his eyelids.
One morning, a delivery boy brings in flowers for one Cooper, Gwen, with one of the Information Centre’s disguised addresses. They’re from her boyfriend Rhys, and since Ianto is not aware of any birthdays or anniversaries, he deduces without needing to open the card that the man had just felt the urge to send his girlfriend some flowers.
Something inside Ianto twists and sours.
A few minutes later, Jack appears with a list of files he needs from the archives. He stops mid-sentence, staring at the flowers. The next instant, he’s leaning casually against the secret entrance.
“Nice flowers, Ianto. Roses, very traditional. Got a hot date?”
The petty jealousy, whether playacted or not, is just so... so absurd, after everything, that Ianto only manages to utter, “They’re for Gwen, sir,” before he’s chuckling, laughing, still sour and hateful and a little insane but none of it really matters, so why not laugh?
And Jack, instead of calling Owen up for a psych evaluation, only chuckles and picks up the flowers. Goes back down, his calls for Gwen echoing off the walls.
Helpless and abandoned, Ianto gives up and keeps on laughing, wiping water from his eyes.
“Mr. Jones?”
Ianto cracks open an eyelid. “Yes?”
“I’m Dr. Karlson,” says a middle-aged, balding man of average height. His glasses have a thick black frame, and his hair reflects traces of grey. But his manner is brisk and strong, his hands steady; Ianto has always had a healthy respect for members of the medical profession, despite Owen’s repeated attempts to change his opinion. “How are you feeling? Better? That’s good. You have burns where the electric current entered and exited your body...”
Jack turns up as the good doctor is leaving. Ianto is pretty sure that Jack would have lurked for longer, so Ianto looks directly at him, expression questioning.
He doesn’t understand why Jack seems so... uncertain;, clearly relieved to see Ianto, but as if Jack doesn’t know what to expect. Then again, it's the second time Ianto's had a close-call while on the field. “The Hub was too far away,” starts Jack, still hovering in the doorway. “You were bleeding, and Tosh and Owen had to get the... creature back to the Hub, in the SUV. You’ll see why when we get back. You... you got it, right in the head. But it shot one of its legs at you, or maybe it was an arm, and it went through your leg. Tosh called an ambulance-"
“Captain,” interrupts Ianto. Why they bother being a secret organization, he'll never know. He stares at Jack a moment longer. Under the greatcoat, Jack is still wearing the shirt and waistcoat from the previous night, and Ianto has no trouble remembering the alleyway. He sighs, and nods. “Jack. Come in.”
Author: etharei
Rating: PG
Timeline: after "Greeks Giving Gifts" (107)
Spoilers: "Cyberwoman" (104), "Countrycide" (106), "Greeks Giving Gifts" (107)
Summary: He hadn’t planned on leaving anything, but there’s a man selling flowers down the street. It suits his mood, to leave such transient tokens for all the hundreds of dead; might as well not pretend that anything lasts forever.
Author's Notes: So tired... THANK YOU to everybody who commented in the first part, feedback is like an IV drip to the slowly dying muses.
Disclaimer: Torchwood and all the characters and situations featured therein are the property of Russell T. Davies, the BBC and their affiliates. I’m only borrowing them for purely non-profit, recreational purposes.
Written for: horizonssing, Day #19.
I brought you here to heal you (2/2)
by Etharei
Life comes in a shock. He expects it to be white-blue, for some reason, metallic and cold pain; instead it is gold, hot, a living sun and breath.
“Stay here, damn you. Stop making me let you go.”
There’s nothing left.
He’s not sure why he returns. The weight of his failure with Lisa grows heavier every day; he’s no Atlas, only human, and the world is compressing him to a mechanical routine, action and reaction, a logic circuit without a protective shell. Maybe the Cybermen had succeeded after all, in many small unexpected ways.
Except, Jack has spared him. Not forgiven, maybe never, but Ianto is back at work. Back to handling technology capable of death and destruction, the history of Torchwood Institute under his fingertips, and delivering the team’s food and drink. Almost as if Jack is daring him to retaliate, to carry out his threats.
And then there’s the way Jack looks at him, sometimes.
It doesn’t make sense. Ianto can’t understand - doesn’t want to.
Nothing recognizable remains. The city will grow over everything, as it has for hundreds of years; Torchwood London will go the way of the Roman fortress of Londinia. Ghosts, but the good kind.
He hadn’t planned on leaving anything, but there’s a man selling flowers down the street. It suits his mood, to leave such transient tokens for all the hundreds of dead; might as well not pretend that anything lasts forever.
Bright. Ow. His eyes automatically squint, and the stabbing white gradually fades into colors and shapes.
“Finally awake, then?” a cheerful voice speaks from somewhere above.
Ianto’s eyes snap open in alarm. “Where am I?” After passage through his dry throat, the words sound more like “Whhrghai?” but the owner of the voice seems to understand.
“St. Mary’s hospital, love.” Hands move under his head and shift his pillow, before bringing forth a plastic cup filled with water. “Drink up.”
He obeys, and his eyes focus on the nurse’s face, and the wide smile to match her voice.
“There. How are we feeling then?”
“Fine,” he replies, pushing himself up to a sitting position despite a disapproving look from the nurse and a deep drug-numbed twinge from under the thick bandages around his thigh. He doesn’t want to ask, but it’d look suspicious if he doesn’t, and he’s confused enough to not need to pretend. “What happened?”
“Got electrocuted.” The nurse picks up the clipboard at the foot of his desk, her tone still worryingly bright. “And nearly skewered yourself on a stick when you fell over. Absolutely shameful, the Council letting live wires lie about. You’re lucky your friend knew CPR, your heart stopped before the ambulance could get there.”
“My friend?” Jack? Or Tosh? And why had they called an ambulance, instead of taking him back to the Hub?
The grin on the nurse’s face is answer enough. “Calls himself Captain Jack.” She winks at him. “You’ve got half the nursing staff right jealous of you, you know.”
What? “What?”
“You don’t have to be shy about it,” she continues, very matter-of-fact. “The paramedics say that he didn’t let go of your hand the whole ride here.”
Ianto groans
“Oh, don’t be like that. Poor bloke was nearly out of his mind by the time they wheeled you in. We finally got him to go home an hour ago, and we had to promise to call him when you wake up.” She gives him a questioning look. “Unless you don’t want him to know?”
Sighing, Ianto waves his hand dismissively. “No, go ahead. I just... I’ve had a bit too much of him, lately.”
The nurse makes a sympathetic noise. “Happens to the best of us, sweetheart. But if I had a man that gorgeous and that into me, I’d think twice about letting him go.” She surreptitiously glances through the glass windows of the private room, as if expecting another nurse to chide her for gossiping. It strikes Ianto just how young she looks, though she can’t be that far from his age. “You and me, we clean up well and we’re not bad on the eyes, but blokes like your Jack can sit back and let the fish come to them, if you get my meaning."
Ianto wonders if he had died and gone to some kind of specialized hell. “Yeah,” he mutters weakly.
“I’ll go tell the doctor that you’re up. You should think of a way to thank Captain Jack for those,” adds the nurse with another suggestive wink, nodding towards the table next to Ianto’s bed.
Turning and ignoring the protests of his muscles, Ianto realizes that the pleasant scent that’s been lightly teasing his nose since waking is coming from a bouquet of bright flowers. He stares at them, not comprehending their existence for a moment. There’s no card, but it’s not as if the flowers could have come from anyone else. They’re not quite the traditional flowers for the hospital bedside. That is, they’re not the traditional flowers an employer would give his employee for getting injured in the job.
Rolling his eyes at the unreasonable complexities of human interactions, Ianto lies back down to contemplate the insides of his eyelids.
One morning, a delivery boy brings in flowers for one Cooper, Gwen, with one of the Information Centre’s disguised addresses. They’re from her boyfriend Rhys, and since Ianto is not aware of any birthdays or anniversaries, he deduces without needing to open the card that the man had just felt the urge to send his girlfriend some flowers.
Something inside Ianto twists and sours.
A few minutes later, Jack appears with a list of files he needs from the archives. He stops mid-sentence, staring at the flowers. The next instant, he’s leaning casually against the secret entrance.
“Nice flowers, Ianto. Roses, very traditional. Got a hot date?”
The petty jealousy, whether playacted or not, is just so... so absurd, after everything, that Ianto only manages to utter, “They’re for Gwen, sir,” before he’s chuckling, laughing, still sour and hateful and a little insane but none of it really matters, so why not laugh?
And Jack, instead of calling Owen up for a psych evaluation, only chuckles and picks up the flowers. Goes back down, his calls for Gwen echoing off the walls.
Helpless and abandoned, Ianto gives up and keeps on laughing, wiping water from his eyes.
“Mr. Jones?”
Ianto cracks open an eyelid. “Yes?”
“I’m Dr. Karlson,” says a middle-aged, balding man of average height. His glasses have a thick black frame, and his hair reflects traces of grey. But his manner is brisk and strong, his hands steady; Ianto has always had a healthy respect for members of the medical profession, despite Owen’s repeated attempts to change his opinion. “How are you feeling? Better? That’s good. You have burns where the electric current entered and exited your body...”
Jack turns up as the good doctor is leaving. Ianto is pretty sure that Jack would have lurked for longer, so Ianto looks directly at him, expression questioning.
He doesn’t understand why Jack seems so... uncertain;, clearly relieved to see Ianto, but as if Jack doesn’t know what to expect. Then again, it's the second time Ianto's had a close-call while on the field. “The Hub was too far away,” starts Jack, still hovering in the doorway. “You were bleeding, and Tosh and Owen had to get the... creature back to the Hub, in the SUV. You’ll see why when we get back. You... you got it, right in the head. But it shot one of its legs at you, or maybe it was an arm, and it went through your leg. Tosh called an ambulance-"
“Captain,” interrupts Ianto. Why they bother being a secret organization, he'll never know. He stares at Jack a moment longer. Under the greatcoat, Jack is still wearing the shirt and waistcoat from the previous night, and Ianto has no trouble remembering the alleyway. He sighs, and nods. “Jack. Come in.”