Double Drabble: Down And Out
Title: Down And Out
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Ianto, Jack.
Rating: PG
Written For: Challenge 821: Lump at tw100.
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: Poor Ianto is in the wars again.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
A/N: Double drabble.
Ianto groaned as he regained his senses. The light was too bright, his head was pounding like a whole army of tiny demons were taking sledgehammers to the inside of his skull, and he was dimly aware of other body parts registering their own protests in less than comfortable ways.
From the dazzling light and the cold, hard surface beneath him, not to mention the familiar voices muttering nearby, he deduced that he was probably in Torchwood’s medical bay. He supposed it could be worse, at least he wasn’t dead. If he was, he suspected there’d be a lot less pain.
“Ow,” he mumbled weakly, feeling that he ought to voice his displeasure at his current situation, if only to let whoever else was there know he was awake. Sort of.
“Hey! There you are!” Something loomed over Ianto, blocking out some of the light. Ianto thought it sounded like Jack. “Don’t try to move.”
As if! Ianto was reasonably certain if he moved his head would fall off. Or explode. Or possibly both.
“Wha’ ‘appened to m’ ‘ead?” he managed.
“You slipped in alien slime. Owen says nothing’s broken, but you’re going to have one heck of a lump.”
The End
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Ianto, Jack.
Rating: PG
Written For: Challenge 821: Lump at tw100.
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: Poor Ianto is in the wars again.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
A/N: Double drabble.
Ianto groaned as he regained his senses. The light was too bright, his head was pounding like a whole army of tiny demons were taking sledgehammers to the inside of his skull, and he was dimly aware of other body parts registering their own protests in less than comfortable ways.
From the dazzling light and the cold, hard surface beneath him, not to mention the familiar voices muttering nearby, he deduced that he was probably in Torchwood’s medical bay. He supposed it could be worse, at least he wasn’t dead. If he was, he suspected there’d be a lot less pain.
“Ow,” he mumbled weakly, feeling that he ought to voice his displeasure at his current situation, if only to let whoever else was there know he was awake. Sort of.
“Hey! There you are!” Something loomed over Ianto, blocking out some of the light. Ianto thought it sounded like Jack. “Don’t try to move.”
As if! Ianto was reasonably certain if he moved his head would fall off. Or explode. Or possibly both.
“Wha’ ‘appened to m’ ‘ead?” he managed.
“You slipped in alien slime. Owen says nothing’s broken, but you’re going to have one heck of a lump.”
The End