Double Drabble: Immortality
Title: Immortality
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Ianto.
Rating: PG
Written For: Challenge 592: Wound at tw100.
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: Ianto muses on the least pleasant parts of being immortal.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
A/N: Double drabble.
Ianto stifled a groan. Being immortal had its good points, most notably that Jack no longer had to face losing him to old age or death, but it bloody well hurt! Even after a few years getting accustomed to his amazing healing abilities and the fact that dying was never permanent, Ianto couldn’t make up his mind which of the downsides of immortality he hated the most.
Getting killed hurt, always, no mater how it happened, although some deaths were worse than others, drawn out for long, agonising minutes. Coming back to life was just as painful in its own way, feeling returning to his body often before whatever had killed him was fully healed.
Minor injures he could brush off as inconsequential, painful but not for long; rapid healing had definite advantages, especially in dangerous situations. Major wounds were another matter. They could incapacitate without killing, then there he’d be, stuck, watching bullet holes, stab wounds, and deep gashes close before his eyes. Sometimes he got a front row seat to watch parts of himself regenerate, which was not a pleasant experience but still beat being left with bits missing.
He doubted he’d ever really get used to immortality.
The End
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Ianto.
Rating: PG
Written For: Challenge 592: Wound at tw100.
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: Ianto muses on the least pleasant parts of being immortal.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
A/N: Double drabble.
Ianto stifled a groan. Being immortal had its good points, most notably that Jack no longer had to face losing him to old age or death, but it bloody well hurt! Even after a few years getting accustomed to his amazing healing abilities and the fact that dying was never permanent, Ianto couldn’t make up his mind which of the downsides of immortality he hated the most.
Getting killed hurt, always, no mater how it happened, although some deaths were worse than others, drawn out for long, agonising minutes. Coming back to life was just as painful in its own way, feeling returning to his body often before whatever had killed him was fully healed.
Minor injures he could brush off as inconsequential, painful but not for long; rapid healing had definite advantages, especially in dangerous situations. Major wounds were another matter. They could incapacitate without killing, then there he’d be, stuck, watching bullet holes, stab wounds, and deep gashes close before his eyes. Sometimes he got a front row seat to watch parts of himself regenerate, which was not a pleasant experience but still beat being left with bits missing.
He doubted he’d ever really get used to immortality.
The End