Who: Martha Jones and Jack Harkness Where: Medical Lab When: After the Julian thread but before the Handy thread. What: A guilty Martha apologizes to an unconscious Jack.
Jack wasn't sure how long he'd been unconscious as he woke, groggily, wincing a little as he tried to move and found his body was stiff and unresponsive. He bumped something as he shifted and realized someone was in his bed.
Normally that wasn't something he'd object to, but he thought it was... odd. It was too small to be Ianto.
He finally managed to focus his eyes and realized it was Martha.
The bump brought Martha back from sleep, though not before a dream had began winding it's way through her conscious. The dream hadn't gone far enough for her to remember it, but it did set her hand into a consistant 1... 2... 3... 4... 1... 2... 3... 4... tapping.
"Jack?" she murmured as she opened her eyes, not noticing her hand tapping his chest. "You're awake," she added groggily.
Martha flushed slightly when his hand caught hers, realizing she'd been tapping. "Can't help that... happens a lot when I sleep..." she muttered. She had so many things to say to him. But when she opened her mouth, all that came out was, "Jack'msorry."
Martha smiled ruefully. "We do need a back up plan, that's for sure. Though as long as no more genetically modified humans go punching me in the ribs, I should be OK." She frowned down at her hospital gowned torso. "I don't think I even own a button up shirt here. Getting dressed is going to hurt. And sponge baths. I'm going to have to take sponge baths." She wrinkled up her nose. "Though that'll be better than my normal rain showers on the run last year. It seems the first thing to go when theres an apocalypse is soap..."
She looked down at Jack as he winced. "Mind if I take a look at the stitches?" she asked.
Martha grinned in amusement. "Jack! I'm about the size of an ant compared to you!"
She moved herself off the bed and walked around to his otherwise. She lifted up the hospital gown enough to see what she was doing. The stitches looked fine but the area was surrounded by a nasty bruise. "All the colors of the rainbow," sheremarked with a whistle. Martha then moved to the cabinets to find some antibacterial cream. "This is going to hurt," she warned as she gently rubbed it over the bruised skin. She finished with a professional looking bandage and then brought a chair over so she could sit and actually draw up a medical chart for him. She had to do one for Doctor Bashir as well, nutshell would talk to Dean first to see if anything else had happened.
"The emotions. It's like a broken dam, Jack. Eliot calls me Crazy Cakes, and Dean Winchester looks like he's trying to walk on egg shells when he talks to me. And I can't control them."
"Martha, you can't turn them on and off like a switch. It takes time to get over the sorts of things you saw. You have to let yourself take that time."
"And when am I supposed to find the time? I'm too busy keeping everyone alive here!" she burst, looking him in the eyes for the first time. But her eyes weren't angry. They were haunted. She tapped the pen in the relentless four beat pattern, as her agitation rose. "I can't do anything to stop him anymore. I've been taken away. All those people are going to die and I'm not there to stop it. And instead of sitting down and having a chance to work though that, my two best friends end up hurt. I thought I was going to lose you Jack!"
"Well, for one you have a very low threshold to pain... let me rephrase that. You have a very low threshold to prolonged pain. You're used to things healing quickly. This is not going to heal quickly. The only way to really keep the pain down is to keep you still for as long as possible. But if I know you, you'll be up and around as soon as I let you. Before I let you even. And you're still going to be in pain. This will take the edge off."
And to be very honest, she was concerned about him.
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Normally that wasn't something he'd object to, but he thought it was... odd. It was too small to be Ianto.
He finally managed to focus his eyes and realized it was Martha.
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"Jack?" she murmured as she opened her eyes, not noticing her hand tapping his chest. "You're awake," she added groggily.
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"So I am. I imagine that's thanks to you."
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"I'm sure he'd be glad to know that. Hey, we have nothing but time here. Maybe you should train him up for the next time all our doctors are down."
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She looked down at Jack as he winced. "Mind if I take a look at the stitches?" she asked.
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He glanced down when she asked about his stitches.
"Knock yourself out."
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She moved herself off the bed and walked around to his otherwise. She lifted up the hospital gown enough to see what she was doing. The stitches looked fine but the area was surrounded by a nasty bruise. "All the colors of the rainbow," sheremarked with a whistle. Martha then moved to the cabinets to find some antibacterial cream. "This is going to hurt," she warned as she gently rubbed it over the bruised skin. She finished with a professional looking bandage and then brought a chair over so she could sit and actually draw up a medical chart for him. She had to do one for Doctor Bashir as well, nutshell would talk to Dean first to see if anything else had happened.
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"What does it matter to you if I take something or not?" he asked, genuinely wondering.
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And to be very honest, she was concerned about him.
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