In Sickness and in Health (6/?)
Author's note
Sorry it took so long, my muse seems to have gotten out of control so this may be quite a bit longer than was originally intended ( it was only meant to be a little one, honest! yeah, that's how they all started) anyway, the point is I've got this and do know where it's going (more or less) but you'll have to forgive me for the longer wait between each chapter as I've got this, real life and another unpublished fic on the go as well as about five hundred plot bunnies that are all demanding that I write them yesterday as they have no concept of sleep or time. Still, one must suffer for one's art;) Huge thanks to unrequited1984 for listening selflessly to my many, many ideas and rants and giving me the much needed confidence to continue this; the rest of the fic is dedicated to you!
Jack was woken yet again by Ianto shifting agitatedly in his sleep, a troubled frown on his flushed features.
“Hey, what’s going on, hmmm? You’re not normally like this,” murmured Jack, gently stroking the boy’s damp hair off his forehead as Ianto continued to toss and turn restlessly, attempting to push Jack’s hand away as he did so.
“Hey, don’t so that,” murmured Jack as he carefully caught the man’s flailing wrists for fear Ianto would hurt himself, gently running his thumbs lightly over his palms in the vague idea that he could rouse him from the fever induce dream he was experiencing.
Unfortunately, this seemed to distress Ianto further as his movements became more urgent, his breathing quickened and he begun to plead in Welsh as varying emotions flickered across his face.
“Ianto, wake up. Come on, Sweetheart,” implored Jack softly as hr picked up on the heightened emotion and acted accordingly, pulling the young Welshman into his arms and tracing comforting patterns along his trembling back as the man continued to mumble incoherently.
Jack just held him close, murmuring quiet reassurances in his ear until Ianto finally woke with a whimper, instinctively clutching at Jack and burying his face in his neck as he tried to get his frantic breathing under control.
“Shh, ‘s okay, ‘s all okay, I’m here,” whispered Jack, kissing his tousled hair affectionately and rocking him back and forth until he felt the rapid heartbeat begin to calm.
“You wanna talk about it?” he asked softly. The young man shook his head as he clung tighter, burying his face further into the Immortal’s neck in an attempt at blocking out the memories and Jack knew there was no point pushing him; it’s only upset him further. Instead, he stuck to more neutral ground.
“You’re shivering,” he stated quietly, idly carding his fingers through the soft hair.
“Sorry,” mumbled Ianto sleepily, nuzzling Jack’s shoulder, finding comfort in the unique smell.
“Don’t be. Why don’t we lie down in bed, hmm? It’ll be more comfortable,” suggested Jack as he attempted to extract himself from Ianto’s grip, causing the young man to whimper involuntarily and cling closer.
“Hey, shh. I’m not going anywhere, I’m just gonna get the duvet from the floor, that’s all,” said Jack gently, cupping Ianto’s warm cheek and stroking it lightly.
Ianto nodded and smiled weakly though Jack could still see the tension behind his eyes and in the lines of his body. “Come here,” smiled Jack, drawing him closer and kissing his hair, “I will never leave you, Ianto Jones, never,” he vowed, kissing him again before retrieving the duvet in one fail swoop and settling them under it.
“This is nice,” mumbled Ianto contentedly, snuggling closer to the comforting warmth.
“You like being held, don’t you?” observed Jack, noting how much more secure the boy was when he was being held and stroked.
“Mmm. You’re very comfortable,” mumbled Ianto sleepily, too tired to really register what Jack was saying. All he knew was that as long as the Captain was here, he was safe.
“Do you want anything? Water, aspirin, paracetamol,” asked Jack, his hand idly drifting up and down Ianto’s arm.
“No, just…stay here,” mumbled Ianto, entwining his legs with Jack’s.
“You must be thirsty; all that vomiting can’t have done your throat any good,” said Jack gently, his hand resting on Ianto’s hip.
“Don’t care,” sighed Ianto as his breathing started to even out.
“Ianto, about earlier, what was it about?” asked Jack carefully, wondering if Ianto would be any less guarded in his semi coherent state.
“Nothing. Doesn’t matter,” muttered Ianto quietly, his body going momentarily rigid.
“You can talk to me you know,” said Jack gently, tilting Ianto’s chin up to face him, tracing his jaw lightly.
“I know. It’s just… some things are best left alone,” murmured Ianto, settling back against him, trailing halfhearted shapes on Jack’s skin.
“But-“
“Please, Jack, I just want to be held and told everything’s alright,” pleaded Ianto.
Jack nodded understanding and tightened his hold, “sorry,” he murmured, kissing the top oh his head.
Ianto hummed non commitally as his breathing started to even out and his body relaxed, a sure sign that Jack had been forgiven.
“What I wouldn’t give to be in your head right now,” sighed Jack to the now oblivious man as he pulled the duvet closer around them.
Whilst his Welsh was far from fluent, hell, it was barely basic, he had recognised one word that had intrigued him: Tad.
http://welsh-scotsman.livejournal.com/7604.html chapter seven
http://welsh-scotsman.livejournal.com/7147.html chapter five
Sorry it took so long, my muse seems to have gotten out of control so this may be quite a bit longer than was originally intended ( it was only meant to be a little one, honest! yeah, that's how they all started) anyway, the point is I've got this and do know where it's going (more or less) but you'll have to forgive me for the longer wait between each chapter as I've got this, real life and another unpublished fic on the go as well as about five hundred plot bunnies that are all demanding that I write them yesterday as they have no concept of sleep or time. Still, one must suffer for one's art;) Huge thanks to unrequited1984 for listening selflessly to my many, many ideas and rants and giving me the much needed confidence to continue this; the rest of the fic is dedicated to you!
Jack was woken yet again by Ianto shifting agitatedly in his sleep, a troubled frown on his flushed features.
“Hey, what’s going on, hmmm? You’re not normally like this,” murmured Jack, gently stroking the boy’s damp hair off his forehead as Ianto continued to toss and turn restlessly, attempting to push Jack’s hand away as he did so.
“Hey, don’t so that,” murmured Jack as he carefully caught the man’s flailing wrists for fear Ianto would hurt himself, gently running his thumbs lightly over his palms in the vague idea that he could rouse him from the fever induce dream he was experiencing.
Unfortunately, this seemed to distress Ianto further as his movements became more urgent, his breathing quickened and he begun to plead in Welsh as varying emotions flickered across his face.
“Ianto, wake up. Come on, Sweetheart,” implored Jack softly as hr picked up on the heightened emotion and acted accordingly, pulling the young Welshman into his arms and tracing comforting patterns along his trembling back as the man continued to mumble incoherently.
Jack just held him close, murmuring quiet reassurances in his ear until Ianto finally woke with a whimper, instinctively clutching at Jack and burying his face in his neck as he tried to get his frantic breathing under control.
“Shh, ‘s okay, ‘s all okay, I’m here,” whispered Jack, kissing his tousled hair affectionately and rocking him back and forth until he felt the rapid heartbeat begin to calm.
“You wanna talk about it?” he asked softly. The young man shook his head as he clung tighter, burying his face further into the Immortal’s neck in an attempt at blocking out the memories and Jack knew there was no point pushing him; it’s only upset him further. Instead, he stuck to more neutral ground.
“You’re shivering,” he stated quietly, idly carding his fingers through the soft hair.
“Sorry,” mumbled Ianto sleepily, nuzzling Jack’s shoulder, finding comfort in the unique smell.
“Don’t be. Why don’t we lie down in bed, hmm? It’ll be more comfortable,” suggested Jack as he attempted to extract himself from Ianto’s grip, causing the young man to whimper involuntarily and cling closer.
“Hey, shh. I’m not going anywhere, I’m just gonna get the duvet from the floor, that’s all,” said Jack gently, cupping Ianto’s warm cheek and stroking it lightly.
Ianto nodded and smiled weakly though Jack could still see the tension behind his eyes and in the lines of his body. “Come here,” smiled Jack, drawing him closer and kissing his hair, “I will never leave you, Ianto Jones, never,” he vowed, kissing him again before retrieving the duvet in one fail swoop and settling them under it.
“This is nice,” mumbled Ianto contentedly, snuggling closer to the comforting warmth.
“You like being held, don’t you?” observed Jack, noting how much more secure the boy was when he was being held and stroked.
“Mmm. You’re very comfortable,” mumbled Ianto sleepily, too tired to really register what Jack was saying. All he knew was that as long as the Captain was here, he was safe.
“Do you want anything? Water, aspirin, paracetamol,” asked Jack, his hand idly drifting up and down Ianto’s arm.
“No, just…stay here,” mumbled Ianto, entwining his legs with Jack’s.
“You must be thirsty; all that vomiting can’t have done your throat any good,” said Jack gently, his hand resting on Ianto’s hip.
“Don’t care,” sighed Ianto as his breathing started to even out.
“Ianto, about earlier, what was it about?” asked Jack carefully, wondering if Ianto would be any less guarded in his semi coherent state.
“Nothing. Doesn’t matter,” muttered Ianto quietly, his body going momentarily rigid.
“You can talk to me you know,” said Jack gently, tilting Ianto’s chin up to face him, tracing his jaw lightly.
“I know. It’s just… some things are best left alone,” murmured Ianto, settling back against him, trailing halfhearted shapes on Jack’s skin.
“But-“
“Please, Jack, I just want to be held and told everything’s alright,” pleaded Ianto.
Jack nodded understanding and tightened his hold, “sorry,” he murmured, kissing the top oh his head.
Ianto hummed non commitally as his breathing started to even out and his body relaxed, a sure sign that Jack had been forgiven.
“What I wouldn’t give to be in your head right now,” sighed Jack to the now oblivious man as he pulled the duvet closer around them.
Whilst his Welsh was far from fluent, hell, it was barely basic, he had recognised one word that had intrigued him: Tad.
http://welsh-scotsman.livejournal.com/7604.html chapter seven
http://welsh-scotsman.livejournal.com/7147.html chapter five