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, although it takes place pre-S1.
Summary: Why didn't you tell us? We could have helped you. - Well, what if he did?
This chapter: Ianto is stuck in his flat and is being coddled - and doesn't enjoy either.
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 Note: Voting is open at Children of Time. This fic is nominated in the Jack&Ianto WIP category - it's up against some very tough competition but every vote counts! (hint hint)
Fic starts here
Previous chapters at my master list
After a few days of being cooped up in his flat, Ianto wasn’t convinced that it was all that much better than being in the hospital. The décor was better, and his bed was definitely comfier, but he was just as bored and felt just as restricted.
He’d tried watching some of his DVD collection – there were quite a few he’d bought and just never managed to find the time to watch – but after getting to the end of the first one with no idea of what had just happened, he reluctantly admitted that he wasn’t quite up to watching them yet. He just couldn’t concentrate for long enough to catch all of the plot details.
Daytime TV was much less taxing, but that was about all it had going for it. There were only so many inane talk shows, home improvement programs and ancient repeats of shows that weren’t very good in the first place that Ianto could stand before he began to wonder if he might not have a better time just scratching his own eyes out.
Even worse, he’d inadvertently found himself drifting into his old unemployment habit – Neighbours. As much as he knew it was drivel, it still made compelling viewing; although he did wonder who all these new characters were, and what had happened to all the Scullys?
He wasn’t sure if he was relieved or upset that it was Jack who walked in early the first evening, halfway through ‘The Little Mermaid’ – the only DVD he’d managed to follow so far, bought one long weekend when he and Lisa had been babysitting her niece. He had the awful feeling that the other film bought that weekend – Beauty and the Beast – might be on the menu for tomorrow.
Thankfully, or perhaps worryingly, Jack didn’t comment on the film choice, simply joining Ianto on his couch and watching the last twenty minutes of musical Disney fun with him. It wasn’t until the credits were rolling that he turned to Ianto with a raised eyebrow that said both, ‘Is there a reason you were watching this?’ and, ‘Why do you even own this?’ just as clearly as if he’d actually said the words aloud.
“We babysat Lisa’s niece sometimes, and my brain was having trouble keeping up with anything more complicated,” Ianto admitted quietly. “And it seemed like a better option than ‘Hollyoaks’.”
Jack just laughed.
At the end of the first week, Ianto was glad to discover that, along with his increasing mobility, he was once again able to follow the plot of a proper movie without straining his brain. Between limited and tiring excursions to the outside world - which hadn’t yet included anything further than the front door onto the street at the bottom of the stairs - he was making a dent in his backlog of unwatched movies.
He was dismayed to discover that some indescribable urge still had him pausing his DVD and flicking to BBC One at 1.40pm each day. He would be glad to get back to work if only to rid himself of this renewed addiction.
Jack, Owen and Tosh continued to drop in on him with a frequency increased even from his time in hospital. Whenever any of them were there, he had to fight even to be allowed to make himself a sandwich. He didn’t refrain from pointing out that he was managing to feed himself just fine when they weren’t there, so they didn’t need to coddle him so much.
He was also, he told them, perfectly capable of walking – more and more each day in fact – so as kind as they thought they were being in continually offering to fetch things for him from the other room, could they please just stop?
He had no objections to them visiting; he looked forward to it, in fact, enjoyed the company, and yes, he knew he was still recovering, but that didn’t mean he needed to be coddled.
When he woke up on the 11th morning - and for the second day in a row didn’t ache all over - he decided that he’d truly had enough. He wasn’t fully fit yet, but he could definitely be doing more than hanging around his small flat uselessly.
A small voice in the back of his mind whispered that Owen was going to give him Hell, but he didn’t care. He was bored, and he wanted to see Lisa. It felt like he hadn’t seen her in months, and as he pulled his front door closed and descended to the waiting taxi, he wondered if she was missing him just as much.
It was still early when he got to the Hub and no one else seemed to be around. As he walked past the Rift Manipulator, a wave of intense familiarity swept over him; it almost, almost, felt like he’d never been away.
There was a very slight spring to his step as he started down the short corridor that led to Lisa’s room; he really was looking forward to seeing her again.
When he reached the entrance to her room, the door was open.
While this was unusual in and of itself, nothing could have prepared him for the sight that would greet him beyond the doorway.
All comments and concrit welcomed! (Comments = Love <3)