Double Drabble: Man Down
Title: Man Down
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Jack, Ianto, Owen.
Rating: PG-13
Written For: Challenge 798: Mouth at tw100.
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: Jack’s dead, Ianto’s injured, and Owen is plain unlucky.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
A/N: Double drabble.
Jack was dead, which wasn’t an unusual occurrence, although Ianto would have preferred it not to happen so often, or at all. Jack probably didn’t enjoy the experience either; dying and reviving were invariably painful.
Still, he’d died this time saving Ianto’s life, and Ianto would have liked to be there for his lover the way he usually was, holding and comforting him through those first few agonising minutes of renewed life. Unfortunately, his own injuries were preventing that.
Owen had applied field dressings to Ianto’s thigh and arm, before turning to Jack and finishing what Ianto had been doing when the medic had arrived on scene, namely shoving various body parts back where they belonged. It had been one of Jack’s messier deaths. Slapping a sterile dressing over a gaping wound and taping it in place, he glanced across at Ianto, propped against a wall.
“Still with me?”
“I’m fine, just see to Jack.”
Turning back to his other patient, Owen felt for Jack’s pulse, only to have the immortal abruptly sit up and headbutt him right in the mouth.
“Fucking Hell!” Owen groaned, collapsing, blood pouring from a split lip.
Ianto sighed. “Looks like we need another medic.”
The End
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Jack, Ianto, Owen.
Rating: PG-13
Written For: Challenge 798: Mouth at tw100.
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: Jack’s dead, Ianto’s injured, and Owen is plain unlucky.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
A/N: Double drabble.
Jack was dead, which wasn’t an unusual occurrence, although Ianto would have preferred it not to happen so often, or at all. Jack probably didn’t enjoy the experience either; dying and reviving were invariably painful.
Still, he’d died this time saving Ianto’s life, and Ianto would have liked to be there for his lover the way he usually was, holding and comforting him through those first few agonising minutes of renewed life. Unfortunately, his own injuries were preventing that.
Owen had applied field dressings to Ianto’s thigh and arm, before turning to Jack and finishing what Ianto had been doing when the medic had arrived on scene, namely shoving various body parts back where they belonged. It had been one of Jack’s messier deaths. Slapping a sterile dressing over a gaping wound and taping it in place, he glanced across at Ianto, propped against a wall.
“Still with me?”
“I’m fine, just see to Jack.”
Turning back to his other patient, Owen felt for Jack’s pulse, only to have the immortal abruptly sit up and headbutt him right in the mouth.
“Fucking Hell!” Owen groaned, collapsing, blood pouring from a split lip.
Ianto sighed. “Looks like we need another medic.”
The End