Ficlet: The Captain's Hand
Title: The Captain's Hand
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Ianto, the Hand, Jack.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 713
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: When Ianto joins Torchwood, he finds himself caring not just for the team and the alien residents, but also for a hand in a jar.
Content Notes: A bit cracky *grins*
Written For: Challenge 417: Amnesty 69 at fan_flashworks, using Challenge 139: Hand.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
Ianto has never known quite what to make of the hand in its jar. Is it the Captain’s pet, his familiar, a trophy from some unknown war, or perhaps a memento of a departed friend or loved one? If that’s the case, it might be considered a touch macabre to hold onto, but who knows? Certainly not Ianto, and he’s not about to ask for fear that the truth might prove more disturbing than his speculations.
The Captain does seem to be fond of it though, so Ianto does his best to take care of it the way he does the various team members, the Pteranodon, and the residents down in the vaults. Compared to everything else that has become his responsibility, it demands very little from him.
He makes sure its power source remains well-charged, dusts and polishes it whenever he’s cleaning, and moves it around regularly so that it won’t get bored with its surroundings. After all, he doesn’t know how aware it might be, and he wouldn’t want it to suffer from lack of stimulation.
Sometimes it seems to wave cheerily at him as he passes by, and he waves back, after making sure no one is watching him. Other times it appears to beckon, and he goes to give it some attention. He even talks to it when there’s nobody else around, although he doubts it can hear him, since it lacks anything to hear with, and it can’t really respond. He has tried sign language a few times, both ESL and ASL, but with dubious results. Perhaps it only knows a special hand language, one that he’s not familiar with, but he persists regardless, because you never know with hands.
When the sex alien escapes in the body of the young woman, Carys, smashing the hand’s jar as a distraction, Jack immediately gives up pursuit and goes to rescue the hand, which shows how important the Captain considers it. Ianto helps, of course, fetching a replacement jar and making sure the hand is immersed once more in its nutrient fluid as quickly as possible.
It remains a bit lethargic for a day or two, perhaps in shock, but Ianto lavishes extra care and attention on it until it perks up again. Jack doesn’t fully relax until the hand is itself once more, but he seems grateful to Ianto for checking on it, even though he never says a word about it. Come to that, neither does Ianto. It’s not something they talk about.
After Lisa, when Ianto returns from his four-week suspension, he realises he’s rather missed the hand’s undemanding company. As soon as he approaches its jar, it waves, so perhaps it’s happy he’s back. It might be the only one who is. He dusts and polishes its jar, checks its nutrient levels, charges its power source, which is a bit low although not as bad as he’d feared, then gets on with his other duties, promising to visit again later.
Weeks pass, things happen, life gets back to something resembling normal, and the hand floats in its jar, a reassuring constant. Then the team mutinies, opening the Rift, and Owen shoots Jack, who revives only to die again, defeating Abaddon and saving the world. Three days later, he revives from that death, forgives everyone, then vanishes. It takes Ianto two days to realise the hand in its jar is gone too.
He misses Jack, and he misses the hand, but the worst part is, even when he figures out that Jack left willingly, he can’t shake the feeling that his Captain won’t be coming back. If he meant to return, then surely he wouldn’t have taken his pet hand, he would have left it safe in the Hub, knowing Ianto would look after it. It hurts to realise that a hand in a jar means more to Jack than Ianto himself did, but he can’t bring himself to blame the hand. It’s never done him any harm and can hardly be held responsible for Jack’s actions.
As he stares at the spot where the hand had been sitting the last time he saw it, he offers up a silent but fond farewell. He hopes that wherever Jack and the hand have gone, they’ll both be okay.
The End
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Ianto, the Hand, Jack.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 713
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: When Ianto joins Torchwood, he finds himself caring not just for the team and the alien residents, but also for a hand in a jar.
Content Notes: A bit cracky *grins*
Written For: Challenge 417: Amnesty 69 at fan_flashworks, using Challenge 139: Hand.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
Ianto has never known quite what to make of the hand in its jar. Is it the Captain’s pet, his familiar, a trophy from some unknown war, or perhaps a memento of a departed friend or loved one? If that’s the case, it might be considered a touch macabre to hold onto, but who knows? Certainly not Ianto, and he’s not about to ask for fear that the truth might prove more disturbing than his speculations.
The Captain does seem to be fond of it though, so Ianto does his best to take care of it the way he does the various team members, the Pteranodon, and the residents down in the vaults. Compared to everything else that has become his responsibility, it demands very little from him.
He makes sure its power source remains well-charged, dusts and polishes it whenever he’s cleaning, and moves it around regularly so that it won’t get bored with its surroundings. After all, he doesn’t know how aware it might be, and he wouldn’t want it to suffer from lack of stimulation.
Sometimes it seems to wave cheerily at him as he passes by, and he waves back, after making sure no one is watching him. Other times it appears to beckon, and he goes to give it some attention. He even talks to it when there’s nobody else around, although he doubts it can hear him, since it lacks anything to hear with, and it can’t really respond. He has tried sign language a few times, both ESL and ASL, but with dubious results. Perhaps it only knows a special hand language, one that he’s not familiar with, but he persists regardless, because you never know with hands.
When the sex alien escapes in the body of the young woman, Carys, smashing the hand’s jar as a distraction, Jack immediately gives up pursuit and goes to rescue the hand, which shows how important the Captain considers it. Ianto helps, of course, fetching a replacement jar and making sure the hand is immersed once more in its nutrient fluid as quickly as possible.
It remains a bit lethargic for a day or two, perhaps in shock, but Ianto lavishes extra care and attention on it until it perks up again. Jack doesn’t fully relax until the hand is itself once more, but he seems grateful to Ianto for checking on it, even though he never says a word about it. Come to that, neither does Ianto. It’s not something they talk about.
After Lisa, when Ianto returns from his four-week suspension, he realises he’s rather missed the hand’s undemanding company. As soon as he approaches its jar, it waves, so perhaps it’s happy he’s back. It might be the only one who is. He dusts and polishes its jar, checks its nutrient levels, charges its power source, which is a bit low although not as bad as he’d feared, then gets on with his other duties, promising to visit again later.
Weeks pass, things happen, life gets back to something resembling normal, and the hand floats in its jar, a reassuring constant. Then the team mutinies, opening the Rift, and Owen shoots Jack, who revives only to die again, defeating Abaddon and saving the world. Three days later, he revives from that death, forgives everyone, then vanishes. It takes Ianto two days to realise the hand in its jar is gone too.
He misses Jack, and he misses the hand, but the worst part is, even when he figures out that Jack left willingly, he can’t shake the feeling that his Captain won’t be coming back. If he meant to return, then surely he wouldn’t have taken his pet hand, he would have left it safe in the Hub, knowing Ianto would look after it. It hurts to realise that a hand in a jar means more to Jack than Ianto himself did, but he can’t bring himself to blame the hand. It’s never done him any harm and can hardly be held responsible for Jack’s actions.
As he stares at the spot where the hand had been sitting the last time he saw it, he offers up a silent but fond farewell. He hopes that wherever Jack and the hand have gone, they’ll both be okay.
The End