In Sickness and in Health (12/?)
I am so sorry this took so long; real life got in the way/ However, in that time, I have also written chapter 13 which I will post tomorrow. Hopefully that makes up for it:)
“Tosh, where’s that file on the L’okan?” called Owen from the autopsy room.
“I don’t know, Ianto put them somewhere before he went off sick,” replied Tosh, her concentration never wavering.
“Fanbloodytastic. Where’s the bloody Teaboy when you need ‘im?” muttered Owen to himself, turning back to the pile of paperwork that was threatening to topple over.
“Behind you,” came a quiet voice from behind him, causing Owen to nearly fall out of his chair.
“Don’t do that!” snapped Owen, turning to face the younger man and noticing how ashen and exhausted he looked, the absence of his tie peaking Owen’s curiosity further.
Ianto raised an eyebrow, “but my sole meaning in life is to annoy you,” he said drily, handing Owen the requisite file.
“I thought you were on your deathbed?” asked Owen, taking the folder without looking and chucking it on his desk.
Ianto shrugged, “I got bored,” he said simply, placing Owen’s coffee on the medic’s desk, his shirt sleeve riding up slightly as he stretched.
“Ianto...What happened to your wrists?” asked Owen, noticing the livid blue bruising decorating the man’s pale skin and the cuts that criss crossed over the back of his hand.
“I tripped. Now if you don’t mind, I have paperwork to catch up on. As do you,” said Ianto looking pointedly at the mountain before moving towards that stairs.
“Ianto, wait,” called Owen, catching his forearm, causing the younger man to wince reflexively. “Let me see; some falls can be pretty nasty,” he said matter of factly, keeping eye contact so Ianto would be more inclined to trust him. Owen on the other hand didn’t believe a word of what Ianto had said: you didn’t get finger bruising from falling over. However, he also knew his colleague well enough to know that questioning him would only cause him to bring his guard up further.
Ianto nodded, “okay,” he said resignatedly as if he had been expecting it.
“Right, take your shirt off whilst I get a few things from upstairs,” said Owen, slipping into doctor mode before giving Ianto’s shoulder a reassuring pat and going upstairs.
“Tosh, can you do us a favour? When Gwen comes in, can you make sure she stays away from the medibay?” asked Owen as he simultaneously collected a few things from his desk and shoved them deep into the pockets of his labcoat.
“Yeah, sure, why?” asked Tosh, stopping what she was doing and giving Owen her full attention.
“Ianto’s got a couple of bruises I want to check out. I don’t think it’s anything serious but I don’t think he’ll appreciate Gwen going all mother hen on him,” confided Owen.
“Sure. I didn’t see him come in this morning,” said Tosh, subconsciously glancing over at the medibay.
“I don’t think he wanted to be seen...Anyway, best get going,” said Owen brightly as he wandered back to the medibay only to be stopped by Jack halfway there.
“You looking Ianto over?” he asked quietly,
“Yeah. Why?”
“Nothing,” replied Jack enigmatically before going back up the stairs to his office leading Owen to the conclusion that there was a lot more going on than met the eye.
Sighing, he went back to his patient who was currently sitting with his sleeves pushed up to his elbows revealing his mottled forearms and his shirt undone showing glimpses of painful bruising along his right hand side seeming not to have noticed Owen’s return as he stared at the white washed wall opposite.
Owen backtracked a few steps before coming down the stairs with more noise than was entirely necessary to make Ianto aware of his presence.
“Right, mate, if you sit up for me, I can check your ribs, okay?” said Owen, waiting for Ianto to nod his assent before lightly placing his hand against the younger man’s side, feeling him flinch as he did so.
“You okay?” Ianto nodded. “Okay, just breathe in for me...and out...and in again...and out again...Okay, good news is that they’re not broken. Bad news is that they’re severely bruised so I’ll just wrap them up for you,” said Owen, glancing over at Ianto as he retrieved stuff from various drawers.
“So...how did you say it happened again?” asked Owen conversationally as he indicated for Ianto to remove his shirt for easier access.
“I tripped,” muttered Ianto.
“Must’ve been some fall,” murmured Owen as he carried on with the task at hand, not surprised when Ianto didn’t elaborate.
“Right, that’s your ribs done now I’ll just stitch up some of the cuts on your hands and then I’ll be done,” said Owen, drawing up a chair.
“So...Fall of death aside, are you okay?” asked Owen conversationally.
“Yep.”
Owen sighed, “mate, I am speaking from the point of view of someone who spent five years at uni studying the difference between death, shit and hypochondriacs. You are currently in the shit section but if I allow you to keep working, you are likely to fall into the dead category along with me if Jack finds out. So why don’t you go home, get some sleep and have something to eat. Take Jack of you want...Preferably not literally, your ribs won’t thank you for it,” said Owen lightly.
“I can’t,” whispered Ianto, the facade finally dropping.
“Why?” asked Owen gently, praying Ianto would follow through on his admission. They might fight and argue and occasionally shoot at each other but at the end of the day, they were all they had. Jack was....well, Jack and the girls were...well, girls.
“I-“
“Ianto! What happened?” exclaimed Gwen as she came down the stairs followed by a very apologetic looking Tosh.
“Weevils,” lied Owen smoothly, covering up for his colleague as he stood so he was at least partially obstructing Gwen’s view whilst simultaneously giving Ianto a chance to cover up both literally and metaphorically.
“How? When? Is he alright?” asked Gwen, trying to move round Owen who refused to let her through.
“He’s fine. Just give him some space,” said Owen, ushering her back up the stairs despite her protests.
“Ianto, I’m really sorry; she just walked straight past me, I couldn’t stop her,” said Tosh to her friend.
“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” said Ianto quietly as he stood slowly.
Tosh nodded nervously before making her way back upstairs, passing Owen as she did so.
“Mate, you don’t have to go back to work; I was only saying that to get rid of Gwen,” said Owen.
“I know, but I’ve wasted enough of your time as it is,” said Ianto quietly, starting to go up the stairs.
“Ianto, wait,” said Owen, catching his elbow and waiting until he’d turned round before continuing. “The next time you fall over, let me know, eh?”
“I will,” said Ianto, before going back up the stairs, leaving Owen alone in the medibay.
Owen waited until he heard the footsteps die before kicking the table in frustration: he had been so close and if it hadn’t have been for Gwen bloody Cooper, he knew Ianto would’ve told him. Now, thanks to her, his guard would be even more impenetrable.
http://welsh-scotsman.livejournal.com/10130.html chapter thirteen
“Tosh, where’s that file on the L’okan?” called Owen from the autopsy room.
“I don’t know, Ianto put them somewhere before he went off sick,” replied Tosh, her concentration never wavering.
“Fanbloodytastic. Where’s the bloody Teaboy when you need ‘im?” muttered Owen to himself, turning back to the pile of paperwork that was threatening to topple over.
“Behind you,” came a quiet voice from behind him, causing Owen to nearly fall out of his chair.
“Don’t do that!” snapped Owen, turning to face the younger man and noticing how ashen and exhausted he looked, the absence of his tie peaking Owen’s curiosity further.
Ianto raised an eyebrow, “but my sole meaning in life is to annoy you,” he said drily, handing Owen the requisite file.
“I thought you were on your deathbed?” asked Owen, taking the folder without looking and chucking it on his desk.
Ianto shrugged, “I got bored,” he said simply, placing Owen’s coffee on the medic’s desk, his shirt sleeve riding up slightly as he stretched.
“Ianto...What happened to your wrists?” asked Owen, noticing the livid blue bruising decorating the man’s pale skin and the cuts that criss crossed over the back of his hand.
“I tripped. Now if you don’t mind, I have paperwork to catch up on. As do you,” said Ianto looking pointedly at the mountain before moving towards that stairs.
“Ianto, wait,” called Owen, catching his forearm, causing the younger man to wince reflexively. “Let me see; some falls can be pretty nasty,” he said matter of factly, keeping eye contact so Ianto would be more inclined to trust him. Owen on the other hand didn’t believe a word of what Ianto had said: you didn’t get finger bruising from falling over. However, he also knew his colleague well enough to know that questioning him would only cause him to bring his guard up further.
Ianto nodded, “okay,” he said resignatedly as if he had been expecting it.
“Right, take your shirt off whilst I get a few things from upstairs,” said Owen, slipping into doctor mode before giving Ianto’s shoulder a reassuring pat and going upstairs.
“Tosh, can you do us a favour? When Gwen comes in, can you make sure she stays away from the medibay?” asked Owen as he simultaneously collected a few things from his desk and shoved them deep into the pockets of his labcoat.
“Yeah, sure, why?” asked Tosh, stopping what she was doing and giving Owen her full attention.
“Ianto’s got a couple of bruises I want to check out. I don’t think it’s anything serious but I don’t think he’ll appreciate Gwen going all mother hen on him,” confided Owen.
“Sure. I didn’t see him come in this morning,” said Tosh, subconsciously glancing over at the medibay.
“I don’t think he wanted to be seen...Anyway, best get going,” said Owen brightly as he wandered back to the medibay only to be stopped by Jack halfway there.
“You looking Ianto over?” he asked quietly,
“Yeah. Why?”
“Nothing,” replied Jack enigmatically before going back up the stairs to his office leading Owen to the conclusion that there was a lot more going on than met the eye.
Sighing, he went back to his patient who was currently sitting with his sleeves pushed up to his elbows revealing his mottled forearms and his shirt undone showing glimpses of painful bruising along his right hand side seeming not to have noticed Owen’s return as he stared at the white washed wall opposite.
Owen backtracked a few steps before coming down the stairs with more noise than was entirely necessary to make Ianto aware of his presence.
“Right, mate, if you sit up for me, I can check your ribs, okay?” said Owen, waiting for Ianto to nod his assent before lightly placing his hand against the younger man’s side, feeling him flinch as he did so.
“You okay?” Ianto nodded. “Okay, just breathe in for me...and out...and in again...and out again...Okay, good news is that they’re not broken. Bad news is that they’re severely bruised so I’ll just wrap them up for you,” said Owen, glancing over at Ianto as he retrieved stuff from various drawers.
“So...how did you say it happened again?” asked Owen conversationally as he indicated for Ianto to remove his shirt for easier access.
“I tripped,” muttered Ianto.
“Must’ve been some fall,” murmured Owen as he carried on with the task at hand, not surprised when Ianto didn’t elaborate.
“Right, that’s your ribs done now I’ll just stitch up some of the cuts on your hands and then I’ll be done,” said Owen, drawing up a chair.
“So...Fall of death aside, are you okay?” asked Owen conversationally.
“Yep.”
Owen sighed, “mate, I am speaking from the point of view of someone who spent five years at uni studying the difference between death, shit and hypochondriacs. You are currently in the shit section but if I allow you to keep working, you are likely to fall into the dead category along with me if Jack finds out. So why don’t you go home, get some sleep and have something to eat. Take Jack of you want...Preferably not literally, your ribs won’t thank you for it,” said Owen lightly.
“I can’t,” whispered Ianto, the facade finally dropping.
“Why?” asked Owen gently, praying Ianto would follow through on his admission. They might fight and argue and occasionally shoot at each other but at the end of the day, they were all they had. Jack was....well, Jack and the girls were...well, girls.
“I-“
“Ianto! What happened?” exclaimed Gwen as she came down the stairs followed by a very apologetic looking Tosh.
“Weevils,” lied Owen smoothly, covering up for his colleague as he stood so he was at least partially obstructing Gwen’s view whilst simultaneously giving Ianto a chance to cover up both literally and metaphorically.
“How? When? Is he alright?” asked Gwen, trying to move round Owen who refused to let her through.
“He’s fine. Just give him some space,” said Owen, ushering her back up the stairs despite her protests.
“Ianto, I’m really sorry; she just walked straight past me, I couldn’t stop her,” said Tosh to her friend.
“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” said Ianto quietly as he stood slowly.
Tosh nodded nervously before making her way back upstairs, passing Owen as she did so.
“Mate, you don’t have to go back to work; I was only saying that to get rid of Gwen,” said Owen.
“I know, but I’ve wasted enough of your time as it is,” said Ianto quietly, starting to go up the stairs.
“Ianto, wait,” said Owen, catching his elbow and waiting until he’d turned round before continuing. “The next time you fall over, let me know, eh?”
“I will,” said Ianto, before going back up the stairs, leaving Owen alone in the medibay.
Owen waited until he heard the footsteps die before kicking the table in frustration: he had been so close and if it hadn’t have been for Gwen bloody Cooper, he knew Ianto would’ve told him. Now, thanks to her, his guard would be even more impenetrable.
http://welsh-scotsman.livejournal.com/10130.html chapter thirteen