Pairings: Jack/Ianto, Ianto/Lisa
Disclaimer: Torchwood is not mine. No matter how much I sometimes wish it was.
Spoilers: Better say everything through s2, just to be sure. Begins pre-S1.
Summary: Lisa is finally awake... how is Ianto dealing with it?
Thanks to: My beta cazmalfoy for all her wonderful work, and my cheerleaders angelzbabe1989 and piper08 for putting up with me when I whine about being stuck.
Author's Notes: Voting is open at Children Of Time - Brokeback Manor is nominated in the AU category - go vote for your faves!
I remembered to load this onto my USB stick, so yay! You get the chapter today!
Fic starts here
Previous chapters at my master list
“Hey,” Ianto murmured, his voice low and intimate. “Welcome back.”
Lisa looked back at him, blinking blearily.
He could see the moment, about twenty seconds later, when she suddenly realised what was different. Her eyes widened and she opened her mouth to try to speak.
The only sound that escaped her mouth was a harsh croak.
Ianto reached over and pressed a finger softly against her lips, a small part of his mind thrilling that he could do that at all. “Shhh… your throat is still dry and irritated from having that tube down it for the last two and a half months. Don’t try to speak yet.”
He smiled at her, trying to project comfort and reassurance. “I’ll go and get Owen. See if he can do anything to help.”
He waited for her to nod her acceptance before jumping to his feet and hurrying out of the room.
He almost physically collided with the object of his mission just outside the door. Owen had been on his way back for another check, and was somewhat surprised to encounter Ianto in such a state of animation.
“She’s awake!” Ianto cried.
Owen’s relief was palpable. Yes, this was nowhere even approaching the end, but a patient waking up after major surgery was never a certainty, even in the best circumstances (which these certainly were not), so he could at least feel that they’d taken a baby step in the right direction.
“And she’s lucid?” he asked, turning Ianto around to head back into Lisa’s room.
Ianto nodded. “She’s still a little woozy, but she’s definitely there. She tried to speak, but her throat is too dry from the intubation.”
Owen bobbed his head a little in thoughtful agreement. “Yeah, I expected that.”
They were across the threshold and back into Lisa’s room before Ianto continued. “Can we do something to help that?” he asked. “I mean, with her internal organs being the way they are.” The last part was murmured softly, so as not to reach Lisa’s ears and upset her.
Owen turned and addressed his answer to Lisa. “I can get you some ice chips to suck on; they should sooth your throat and moisten your mouth so it isn’t so hard to talk.”
Taking up his place at her side again, Owen took down the readings from several monitors and pulled out a small flashlight, which he shone into her eyes to check the response.
“OK, looking pretty good there, actually,” he told Ianto, who had watched the proceedings anxiously. He nodded at Lisa, attempting a faint smile. “I’ll just get those ice chips for you.”
He put his notes back down and disappeared through the doorway. Ianto had barely resumed his seat at Lisa’s side when he reappeared, holding a plastic cup of ice.
“Suck on a chip slowly. It might still hurt to swallow for a little while, but that should ease off soon.” He handed Ianto the cup of ice chips, watching as he carefully extracted one and held it to Lisa’s lips for her to take. Witnessing the obvious deep affection inherent in every touch, Owen began to feel as if he was intruding, and inconspicuously left them alone.
Ianto’s eyes were fixed once again on Lisa, so he didn’t notice Owen’s stealthy exit.
He didn’t realise quite how much he’d missed hearing her voice over the last ten weeks until he heard it again; a little raspy and rough from disuse, but still distinctly his Lisa.
* * * *
As eager as he was to hear more of her voice, to keep her talking, Ianto could tell that Lisa was tiring just a little over half an hour later. The conversation had been slightly stilted, and the topics a little inane, Ianto studiously avoiding any mention of her condition or the operation she had just been through.
He avoided them because he knew if they started talking about how she was, she’d want to know how he was – that was just the kind of girl she’d always been – and he just didn’t think he could tell her.
Didn’t think he could talk to her about how worried he’d been, how scared, when she hadn’t been breathing. Couldn’t tell her how close he had come to being physically supported by the rest of the team while Owen cut into her chest. Couldn’t discuss how he felt, when almost all of his problems were associated with her.
It had all been so much easier when she was unconscious.
All comments and concrit welcomed! (Comments = Love <3)