[Fanfiction] "It's Nothing" by willowwood
Title: It’s Nothing
Author: willowwood
Fandom: Torchwood
Character(s)/Pairing: Gwen Cooper, Gwen/Rhys, Gwen/Owen
Rating: PG-13
Words: 392
Disclaimer: I don’t own this show; I just have it taking over my life right now.
Spoilers: Set post 1.06 - Countrycide.
Authors Notes: This was originally intended for the tv_100 challenge ‘Nothing’ but, as is usually the case when I try to write for these kinds of things I ended up going over the word limit by about 130-ish words lmao, and couldn’t bring myself to edit it. Therefore, you’re getting it in all its glory. Enjoy!
Summary: ‘The lies roll of her tongue almost as if she believes them herself’
It’s Nothing
It all became so easy, the nonchalant ‘honestly-it’s-nothing’ flick of the wrist when he tells her she should get the burn across her forearm checked out. The wide ‘you-know-how-much-of-an-idiot-I-can-be’ eyes when she’s trying to convince him that the bruise across her cheekbone is merely the result of some thug knocking her into a wall. The I’m-such-a-klutz giggle that follows the long, elaborate story she’s made up of how she caught her leg on a piece of barb wire as she was climbing over a wall - even when the 6-inch cut across her calf clearly isn’t the result of some twisted pieces of metal.
The lies roll of her tongue almost as if she believes them herself, and suddenly she understands how all those victims of abuse, she had to deal with back on the force, do it - How they lied so convincingly to protect the ones they love.
Soon enough she doesn’t even need the stories anymore. When he stops asking about the unmistakable bite mark on her shoulder, or why she’s limping again, and she tells herself that this is what she wants. That she doesn’t want to have to lie to him anymore, that she’s tired of making up stories about drunken rugby fans and over zealous youths.
Yet when she winces against his hand as it brushes the bandages concealing the shotgun wound on her side, and all he does is turn his attention back to the TV with an annoyed sigh, she finds herself getting up and pulling on her coat. Not even surprised when he doesn’t even bother asking her where she’s going as she walks out of the flat - despite the fact she already has an excuse conjured up in her head “Oh nowhere love, just out for a walk is all. I’ll be back in a bit”
* * *
She tells herself that it doesn’t mean anything. But when he asks her why she’s crying in the middle of the night she doesn’t have to think twice before telling him it’s because whatever faith in humanity she had, has been destroyed by the honesty of some crazed cannibal. And he doesn’t back down when she winces against the accidental brush of bandaged ribs, simply softens his touch and deepens their kiss - helping her to forget it’s even there at all.
The End
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Author: willowwood
Fandom: Torchwood
Character(s)/Pairing: Gwen Cooper, Gwen/Rhys, Gwen/Owen
Rating: PG-13
Words: 392
Disclaimer: I don’t own this show; I just have it taking over my life right now.
Spoilers: Set post 1.06 - Countrycide.
Authors Notes: This was originally intended for the tv_100 challenge ‘Nothing’ but, as is usually the case when I try to write for these kinds of things I ended up going over the word limit by about 130-ish words lmao, and couldn’t bring myself to edit it. Therefore, you’re getting it in all its glory. Enjoy!
Summary: ‘The lies roll of her tongue almost as if she believes them herself’
It’s Nothing
It all became so easy, the nonchalant ‘honestly-it’s-nothing’ flick of the wrist when he tells her she should get the burn across her forearm checked out. The wide ‘you-know-how-much-of-an-idiot-I-can-be’ eyes when she’s trying to convince him that the bruise across her cheekbone is merely the result of some thug knocking her into a wall. The I’m-such-a-klutz giggle that follows the long, elaborate story she’s made up of how she caught her leg on a piece of barb wire as she was climbing over a wall - even when the 6-inch cut across her calf clearly isn’t the result of some twisted pieces of metal.
The lies roll of her tongue almost as if she believes them herself, and suddenly she understands how all those victims of abuse, she had to deal with back on the force, do it - How they lied so convincingly to protect the ones they love.
Soon enough she doesn’t even need the stories anymore. When he stops asking about the unmistakable bite mark on her shoulder, or why she’s limping again, and she tells herself that this is what she wants. That she doesn’t want to have to lie to him anymore, that she’s tired of making up stories about drunken rugby fans and over zealous youths.
Yet when she winces against his hand as it brushes the bandages concealing the shotgun wound on her side, and all he does is turn his attention back to the TV with an annoyed sigh, she finds herself getting up and pulling on her coat. Not even surprised when he doesn’t even bother asking her where she’s going as she walks out of the flat - despite the fact she already has an excuse conjured up in her head “Oh nowhere love, just out for a walk is all. I’ll be back in a bit”
* * *
She tells herself that it doesn’t mean anything. But when he asks her why she’s crying in the middle of the night she doesn’t have to think twice before telling him it’s because whatever faith in humanity she had, has been destroyed by the honesty of some crazed cannibal. And he doesn’t back down when she winces against the accidental brush of bandaged ribs, simply softens his touch and deepens their kiss - helping her to forget it’s even there at all.
The End
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