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Mar. 18th, 2008 08:03 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
songspinnerA Torchwood fic that I kept rewriting for a few weeks, bit by bit.
Title: Walking Wounded
Author: songspinner9
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: GEN (with a tiny bit of Jack/Ianto)
Warning: Spoilers for 2 X 01 (Kiss, Kiss, Bang, Bang)
Summary: In the immediate aftermath of Jack's return, the team hides out in Owen's apartment until there's no chance of meeting themselves. Some things are said that had been a long time coming, and some don't need to be spoken aloud.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Torchwood except my own theories, most of which will probably turn out to be wrong. It and all its characters belong to RTD and the BBC.
As they all began to walk back toward the SUV, Jack slowed down and dropped back to pace Owen’s somewhat uneven stride. “Are you gonna ask for help or is it true that doctors make the most stubborn patients?” He glanced sideways at the hand that was still pressed tight against the bloodstained t-shirt. “How bad is it, Owen?”
“I’m fi…” The other man broke off his automatic answer with a grimace and a muttered curse as he stumbled a bit.
“He was shot in the side.” Tosh added, turning to walk backwards, keeping worried eyes on her injured teammate. And out of the corner of one eye, Jack saw Ianto edge into a position where he could catch Owen if necessary.
Raising one eyebrow, Jack put out a hand to get the doctor to stop. “Stubborn it is, then. Look, we can’t go back to the Hub for a few hours or we’ll be running the risk of dealing with time paradoxes, meeting ourselves. Do you have what we need at your place?” He slid his hand down Owen's side, and got a flinch of pain in response. “How bad, Owen?” he repeated quietly.
“Blood loss, dizziness, painkillers wore off a...a while ago and so...so did the adrenaline.” The breathless quality to Owen’s voice sent up alarm signals in Jack’s brain; he'd heard it earlier when the doctor was explaining what he'd improvised with the syringe. “Tosh helped me enough back at the warehouse that I could at least get the bullet out, and clean it a bit, but it opened again a while ago."
“Yeah, well running to hell and back, even if it’s saving lives, can do that. And you know I’ve got enough medic training to put in some stitches.”
“More than…more than one lifetime of it, then?” Owen rasped out, curiosity winning out over pain for a moment.
“You could say that. And if you're a good boy and cooperate, I may even tell you a story or two about it before bed.” Jack shook a mocking finger at him and got very specific finger gesture in return. Laughing and figuring that if Owen had the energy to be rude, he might just be all right, the Captain swiftly tucked his arm under Owen's shoulder. “Tosh, you drive. Ianto, help me get him in the back…”
“Tosh shouldn’t drive.” Owen’s head came up briefly from where he was starting to lean on the window. “He hit her pretty hard…her face. Haven’t checked her yet.”
“Owen!” Tosh yelped indignantly from the front, but slid over anyway to let the Captain come around and take the wheel.
Jack reached out to touch Toshiko’s face gently, turning it a bit so he could check. “That'll be a nice bruise, I'm afraid, Toshiko. We'll have to wait for a concussion check until we can stop moving. But I’ll drive anyway. Lie low at your place, Owen?” He had the distinct feeling that none of them wanted to let him out of their sight and at the moment, he didn't think he could bear being away from them either.
“Why not?" came the muffled answer from the back seat. "I’ve got a lot of extra medical stuff there. Been...been keeping it handy for a while now, just in case.”
"I'd issue some sort of formal reprimand for taking things out of the Hub again, but I don't think I can really complain this time." Jack flicked a glance around the SUV to make sure everyone was ready and started the engine. "Everything taken care of for the moment?"
"I'll be sure to arrange for a tow on the uh, blowfish's sportscar once I can call, sir." Ianto said as he slid a spare coat between Owen's head and the seat.
**
"Owen, do you have any actual food in this kitchen?" Ianto's voice came quite clearly from the next room. Before Owen could respond in kind, they heard Gwen's answer.
"No, he doesn't, or hadn't you noticed he's practically been living at the Hub this past week?"
"Oi, I am right here now, you know! Things needed to be done!" Owen yelled back at the both of them. "Check the righthand cupboard, then, Jamie Oliver." Then he snorted out a tense breath as Jack began to clean up a neat cluster of stitches. The doctor dropped his voice down to a normal volume.
"You know, you owe me an appointment."
"Excuse me?" Jack paused mid-gesture.
Narrow lips tightened with the effort of holding back curses. "You got back from who knows where, or apparently when, and I don't expect that you'll tell me most of it, and you haven't had a post-mission check yet."
"I wasn't on a Torchwood mission."
"Not with us." The residual hurt in Owen's voice apparently made him wince at his own tone. "I know it was important, Jack...you wouldn't have left otherwise. Knowin' you, you probably saved the world again or something. Just...you may have found 'your doctor' but I need to be sure you're all right."
"You won't find much...now. And I will be, eventually..." Jack said softly, and knew from the slight widening of brown eyes that he'd been completely understood in theory if not in the details. With no visible marks on his skin, he'd at least be able to keep most of a year of constant torture from the other man. "And you're right, I'm not ready to talk about it right now. But yes, I'll let you do the post-mission check as soon as you're up and around." It occurred to him that he probably shouldn't mention being thrown off a building.
"It'll prove to me that you're really back, I guess. Stupid of me." Owen's voice dropped to a sort of embarassed mutter.
"This is hard for you, isn't it? Knowing that I can't die?"
The doctor shifted against the pillows. "Drives me stark raving mad, yeah. I'll get used it eventually, but...I'm responsible for keeping you lot alive. So, habit, you understand."
"I get it. And thanks for taking care of them while I was gone." Jack put the last piece of tape over the bandage. "There. The bleeding's stopped. There won't even be a scar, I think." He grinned at Owen speculatively as he removed his latex gloves and threw them in the trash. "Or...sorry, did you want one? Scars can be quite the magnet if you're looking to impress someone."
"Nah. Got enough of them. Unlike some people I could mention." The younger man yawned helplessly and let Jack pull a blanket over him.
"And the left side? Again? What is it with you getting shot on that side?"
"Lack of symmetry. You always knew I was unbalanced." Owen snickered into the pillow, and Jack shook his head at him. "You do a decent job of stitching, Captain. For a former medic."
Jack retaliated for the comment by reaching out to ruffle up Owen's hair, which made the doctor swear wearily and swat at him. Catching the hand before it connected, Jack held it to his heart for a moment. He'd made himself a promise after Abbadon that he'd never let this man get to that point of alone-ness again, and a literal gesture seemed in order.
The exhausted man blinked hard for a minute, spread his fingers out under Jack's briefly so that they could feel the reassuringly strong heartbeat there, and then took his hand back in order to bundle himself under the blankets.
"Go ahead and sleep. We've got a few hours before we can go back, anyway."
"B'here?" Owen muttered sleepily, his eyes already closing as the exhaustion and painkillers finally took total control of him.
"Yeah, I'll still be here when you wake up." Jack watched until he was sure that his friend was truly asleep before sliding off the side of the bed to sit on the floor. He leaned his head back against the matress and sat in the dark for a while, just listening Owen breathe.
***
"Hungry, sir?"
Jack eyed the plates Ianto was setting in front of Toshiko and Gwen. It looked good, but he'd only had a couple of normal meals since a year of pretty close to starving on the Valiant, and his body hadn't been all that thrilled with those at first. Martha had been kind enough to help him and not say "I told you so." Much.
"Jack?"
"Yeah, I...not a lot, though, okay?"
From the expression on his face, Ianto's mind was clearly working through a series of possible reasons for Jack's need for a smaller-than-usual amount of food, and none of them were making him any less worried. "All right."
A few minutes later, as Jack listened to Gwen telling them how Rhys' mother wanted far too big a wedding for her own tastes, Ianto put a plate down in front of him. Toast with honey, nice and simple. Perfect choice of course. "Thanks, Ianto."
The younger man slid into the seat next to him. "Owen's asleep, then?"
"He should be out for a while." He took a bite of the toast and chewed slowly, not wanting to eat too fast, and swallowed carefully. "Everyone's going to have to check in about timelines so we make sure we don't screw them up."
"Jack..." Gwen began, and then stopped.
Jack put down the toast, losing what little appetite he had. He could hear what her question was even if she'd cut it off before it was said out loud. "Look, if I tell you anything about what happened, it'll be once. Only one time. When we're back at the Hub, okay? When Owen's awake."
He obviously hadn't been able his voice as steady as he thought he had, because Toshiko tentatively moved her hand across the table to touch his, and he gladly held onto it. He felt Ianto's body shift next to his until they were pressed tightly together, from shoulder to knee. There was a long moment when he couldn't say anything past the tightness in his throat, with the sheer relief of being in the same place as the others, with them alive, overwhelmed anything else.
"Since I'm waiting, you guys want to tell me about anything? Looked like you had everything under control." Jack changed the subject, and was absurdly grateful when the others were willing to follow along.
"Well, except for the fish." Gwen said, shaking her head.
"We did rather well last week with the crashed spacecraft." Toshiko retorted, and pulled her hand back from Jack's to pick up her fork. "UNIT didn't even argue with you. Much."
"Well, didn't give them much of a choice, yeah?"
"That's my girl." Jack grinned at her proudly.
"Tosh had her translator going and Owen even managed to converse with the pilot of the craft without insulting it too much. Quite impressive."
Jack could hear the smirk in Ianto's voice. He picked up his toast again, but didn't move away from his contact with the younger man. "I leave for that long and neither of you is dead. Definitely impressive."
"Yes, well...shooting Owen again seemed counterproductive when we were trying to keep the Earth in one piece, sir. We needed to be a team, after all."
"I suppose you'll enjoy reading the mission reports, Jack. They're all in a stack on your desk."
He rolled his eyes at Gwen. "Okay, for the record? Paperwork is not something I missed." Ianto's hand caught at his under the table, and Gwen's giggles filled the air to the visual accompaniment of Toshiko's attempt at a straight face, and he sat basking in the presence of what he had missed.
Title: Walking Wounded
Author: songspinner9
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: GEN (with a tiny bit of Jack/Ianto)
Warning: Spoilers for 2 X 01 (Kiss, Kiss, Bang, Bang)
Summary: In the immediate aftermath of Jack's return, the team hides out in Owen's apartment until there's no chance of meeting themselves. Some things are said that had been a long time coming, and some don't need to be spoken aloud.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Torchwood except my own theories, most of which will probably turn out to be wrong. It and all its characters belong to RTD and the BBC.
As they all began to walk back toward the SUV, Jack slowed down and dropped back to pace Owen’s somewhat uneven stride. “Are you gonna ask for help or is it true that doctors make the most stubborn patients?” He glanced sideways at the hand that was still pressed tight against the bloodstained t-shirt. “How bad is it, Owen?”
“I’m fi…” The other man broke off his automatic answer with a grimace and a muttered curse as he stumbled a bit.
“He was shot in the side.” Tosh added, turning to walk backwards, keeping worried eyes on her injured teammate. And out of the corner of one eye, Jack saw Ianto edge into a position where he could catch Owen if necessary.
Raising one eyebrow, Jack put out a hand to get the doctor to stop. “Stubborn it is, then. Look, we can’t go back to the Hub for a few hours or we’ll be running the risk of dealing with time paradoxes, meeting ourselves. Do you have what we need at your place?” He slid his hand down Owen's side, and got a flinch of pain in response. “How bad, Owen?” he repeated quietly.
“Blood loss, dizziness, painkillers wore off a...a while ago and so...so did the adrenaline.” The breathless quality to Owen’s voice sent up alarm signals in Jack’s brain; he'd heard it earlier when the doctor was explaining what he'd improvised with the syringe. “Tosh helped me enough back at the warehouse that I could at least get the bullet out, and clean it a bit, but it opened again a while ago."
“Yeah, well running to hell and back, even if it’s saving lives, can do that. And you know I’ve got enough medic training to put in some stitches.”
“More than…more than one lifetime of it, then?” Owen rasped out, curiosity winning out over pain for a moment.
“You could say that. And if you're a good boy and cooperate, I may even tell you a story or two about it before bed.” Jack shook a mocking finger at him and got very specific finger gesture in return. Laughing and figuring that if Owen had the energy to be rude, he might just be all right, the Captain swiftly tucked his arm under Owen's shoulder. “Tosh, you drive. Ianto, help me get him in the back…”
“Tosh shouldn’t drive.” Owen’s head came up briefly from where he was starting to lean on the window. “He hit her pretty hard…her face. Haven’t checked her yet.”
“Owen!” Tosh yelped indignantly from the front, but slid over anyway to let the Captain come around and take the wheel.
Jack reached out to touch Toshiko’s face gently, turning it a bit so he could check. “That'll be a nice bruise, I'm afraid, Toshiko. We'll have to wait for a concussion check until we can stop moving. But I’ll drive anyway. Lie low at your place, Owen?” He had the distinct feeling that none of them wanted to let him out of their sight and at the moment, he didn't think he could bear being away from them either.
“Why not?" came the muffled answer from the back seat. "I’ve got a lot of extra medical stuff there. Been...been keeping it handy for a while now, just in case.”
"I'd issue some sort of formal reprimand for taking things out of the Hub again, but I don't think I can really complain this time." Jack flicked a glance around the SUV to make sure everyone was ready and started the engine. "Everything taken care of for the moment?"
"I'll be sure to arrange for a tow on the uh, blowfish's sportscar once I can call, sir." Ianto said as he slid a spare coat between Owen's head and the seat.
**
"Owen, do you have any actual food in this kitchen?" Ianto's voice came quite clearly from the next room. Before Owen could respond in kind, they heard Gwen's answer.
"No, he doesn't, or hadn't you noticed he's practically been living at the Hub this past week?"
"Oi, I am right here now, you know! Things needed to be done!" Owen yelled back at the both of them. "Check the righthand cupboard, then, Jamie Oliver." Then he snorted out a tense breath as Jack began to clean up a neat cluster of stitches. The doctor dropped his voice down to a normal volume.
"You know, you owe me an appointment."
"Excuse me?" Jack paused mid-gesture.
Narrow lips tightened with the effort of holding back curses. "You got back from who knows where, or apparently when, and I don't expect that you'll tell me most of it, and you haven't had a post-mission check yet."
"I wasn't on a Torchwood mission."
"Not with us." The residual hurt in Owen's voice apparently made him wince at his own tone. "I know it was important, Jack...you wouldn't have left otherwise. Knowin' you, you probably saved the world again or something. Just...you may have found 'your doctor' but I need to be sure you're all right."
"You won't find much...now. And I will be, eventually..." Jack said softly, and knew from the slight widening of brown eyes that he'd been completely understood in theory if not in the details. With no visible marks on his skin, he'd at least be able to keep most of a year of constant torture from the other man. "And you're right, I'm not ready to talk about it right now. But yes, I'll let you do the post-mission check as soon as you're up and around." It occurred to him that he probably shouldn't mention being thrown off a building.
"It'll prove to me that you're really back, I guess. Stupid of me." Owen's voice dropped to a sort of embarassed mutter.
"This is hard for you, isn't it? Knowing that I can't die?"
The doctor shifted against the pillows. "Drives me stark raving mad, yeah. I'll get used it eventually, but...I'm responsible for keeping you lot alive. So, habit, you understand."
"I get it. And thanks for taking care of them while I was gone." Jack put the last piece of tape over the bandage. "There. The bleeding's stopped. There won't even be a scar, I think." He grinned at Owen speculatively as he removed his latex gloves and threw them in the trash. "Or...sorry, did you want one? Scars can be quite the magnet if you're looking to impress someone."
"Nah. Got enough of them. Unlike some people I could mention." The younger man yawned helplessly and let Jack pull a blanket over him.
"And the left side? Again? What is it with you getting shot on that side?"
"Lack of symmetry. You always knew I was unbalanced." Owen snickered into the pillow, and Jack shook his head at him. "You do a decent job of stitching, Captain. For a former medic."
Jack retaliated for the comment by reaching out to ruffle up Owen's hair, which made the doctor swear wearily and swat at him. Catching the hand before it connected, Jack held it to his heart for a moment. He'd made himself a promise after Abbadon that he'd never let this man get to that point of alone-ness again, and a literal gesture seemed in order.
The exhausted man blinked hard for a minute, spread his fingers out under Jack's briefly so that they could feel the reassuringly strong heartbeat there, and then took his hand back in order to bundle himself under the blankets.
"Go ahead and sleep. We've got a few hours before we can go back, anyway."
"B'here?" Owen muttered sleepily, his eyes already closing as the exhaustion and painkillers finally took total control of him.
"Yeah, I'll still be here when you wake up." Jack watched until he was sure that his friend was truly asleep before sliding off the side of the bed to sit on the floor. He leaned his head back against the matress and sat in the dark for a while, just listening Owen breathe.
***
"Hungry, sir?"
Jack eyed the plates Ianto was setting in front of Toshiko and Gwen. It looked good, but he'd only had a couple of normal meals since a year of pretty close to starving on the Valiant, and his body hadn't been all that thrilled with those at first. Martha had been kind enough to help him and not say "I told you so." Much.
"Jack?"
"Yeah, I...not a lot, though, okay?"
From the expression on his face, Ianto's mind was clearly working through a series of possible reasons for Jack's need for a smaller-than-usual amount of food, and none of them were making him any less worried. "All right."
A few minutes later, as Jack listened to Gwen telling them how Rhys' mother wanted far too big a wedding for her own tastes, Ianto put a plate down in front of him. Toast with honey, nice and simple. Perfect choice of course. "Thanks, Ianto."
The younger man slid into the seat next to him. "Owen's asleep, then?"
"He should be out for a while." He took a bite of the toast and chewed slowly, not wanting to eat too fast, and swallowed carefully. "Everyone's going to have to check in about timelines so we make sure we don't screw them up."
"Jack..." Gwen began, and then stopped.
Jack put down the toast, losing what little appetite he had. He could hear what her question was even if she'd cut it off before it was said out loud. "Look, if I tell you anything about what happened, it'll be once. Only one time. When we're back at the Hub, okay? When Owen's awake."
He obviously hadn't been able his voice as steady as he thought he had, because Toshiko tentatively moved her hand across the table to touch his, and he gladly held onto it. He felt Ianto's body shift next to his until they were pressed tightly together, from shoulder to knee. There was a long moment when he couldn't say anything past the tightness in his throat, with the sheer relief of being in the same place as the others, with them alive, overwhelmed anything else.
"Since I'm waiting, you guys want to tell me about anything? Looked like you had everything under control." Jack changed the subject, and was absurdly grateful when the others were willing to follow along.
"Well, except for the fish." Gwen said, shaking her head.
"We did rather well last week with the crashed spacecraft." Toshiko retorted, and pulled her hand back from Jack's to pick up her fork. "UNIT didn't even argue with you. Much."
"Well, didn't give them much of a choice, yeah?"
"That's my girl." Jack grinned at her proudly.
"Tosh had her translator going and Owen even managed to converse with the pilot of the craft without insulting it too much. Quite impressive."
Jack could hear the smirk in Ianto's voice. He picked up his toast again, but didn't move away from his contact with the younger man. "I leave for that long and neither of you is dead. Definitely impressive."
"Yes, well...shooting Owen again seemed counterproductive when we were trying to keep the Earth in one piece, sir. We needed to be a team, after all."
"I suppose you'll enjoy reading the mission reports, Jack. They're all in a stack on your desk."
He rolled his eyes at Gwen. "Okay, for the record? Paperwork is not something I missed." Ianto's hand caught at his under the table, and Gwen's giggles filled the air to the visual accompaniment of Toshiko's attempt at a straight face, and he sat basking in the presence of what he had missed.
