badly_knitted (badly_knitted) wrote,
badly_knitted
badly_knitted

Fic: Lucky

Title: Lucky
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Ianto, Jack, Tosh, Owen, Alien.
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: While tracking a lethal alien, Ianto miraculously escapes serious injury.
Word Count: 861
Written For: m_findlow’s prompt ‘Any, any, bleeding, at fic_promptly.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters. They belong to the BBC.




Ianto stood at the sink holding his right hand under the tap and watching the water swirl away down the plughole, carrying steamers of red blood with it. Working for Torchwood you couldn’t afford to be squeamish; blood, both human and alien, was a familiar sight. Most often it was Jack’s because of his propensity for throwing himself into danger in order to protect his team, or some innocent bystander. He considered it perfectly acceptable to risk his own life to save someone else’s, a point of view Ianto could understand even though he didn’t like it. Jack couldn’t stay dead, and if he got injured he healed a lot faster and more completely than any ordinary human could hope to. He could shrug off injuries that would permanently disable or even kill anyone else.


It wasn’t Jack’s blood this time though; it was Ianto’s own, spilling from a deep cut to the back of his middle finger, a minor injury, especially by Torchwood standards, little more than an annoyance, and yet the sight of all that red had Ianto nearly hypnotised.


‘I’m bleeding,’ he thought hazily, knowing that it could have been so much worse. A slice across the base of one finger was nothing when he’d come so close to having his whole hand lopped off. If he hadn’t moved when he did, and in exactly the way that he had, the spinning, flying blade thrown by the alien might have disarmed him literally, instead of just nicking him and making him drop his gun. To add to the irony of the situation, he’d had the safety disengaged and as the gun had fallen to the ground it had gone off, the bullet hitting the alien in the stomach; a fatal wound. Ianto still couldn’t believe his luck; he should be dead right now, but here he was, still in one piece, bleeding but alive.


The alien was a warlike creature interested only in taking trophies from its victims, usually ears or fingers, to prove on its return home how many it had killed. It had been using camouflage technology and because of that it had blended into the background so well it had been almost impossible to see unless it was moving. The team had been chasing it, but had lost sight of it when it had ducked into an alley, at which point they’d been forced to rely solely on Tosh’s scanners to try and detect where it was hiding, but something in the alien’s technology had been causing interference. Although Tosh had been doing her best to compensate, her device’s ability to detect the alien’s proximity had been drastically reduced.


The team had spread out, guns aimed, eyes scouring every possible hiding place for the smallest telltale flicker of movement that would give away the alien’s position. It couldn’t stay completely still; it had to breathe…


Ianto hadn’t seen a thing, not that he could remember; he had no real idea what had made him abruptly twist sideways. Had he heard something, maybe the blade being drawn, some tiny, indistinct sound that had alerted him without fully registering in his mind? He’d been racking his brain ever since it had happened, to no avail; all he knew was that something had made him move and because of that he was still alive and mostly unharmed.


“You should let Owen take a look at that; it might need a couple of stitches.”


Ianto jumped at the sound of Jack’s voice; he’d been so deep in thought he hadn’t heard his lover come in. He glanced over his shoulder with a faint smile. “You’re right, I probably should.” He turned the tap off and studied the small wound, less than an inch long. “Looks like it’s just about stopped bleeding at least.”


Jack moved closer, wrapping both arms around his lover and pulling him close. “You were lucky,” he murmured against Ianto’s hair.


“I was,” Ianto agreed. “Maybe I have a guardian angel watching over me.”


“Maybe you do, in which case I owe your angel a big thank you for protecting you. I had quite a job pulling that blade out of the wall. It had sunk a good three inches into solid brick, like a hot knife cutting through butter.”


“Sharp.” Ianto shivered slightly in Jack’s arms.


“Oh yeah.” Jack drew back far enough to see Ianto’s face. “Are you okay?”


“I’m fine. I should go find Owen before he gets too involved in his latest autopsy. You know what he’s like; hates to be interrupted when he’s busy cutting things up and making amazing scientific discoveries.”


“I’ll go with you.”


“You don’t have to, Jack.”


“Well I’m not staying here all by myself.” They were standing in the locker room.


Looking around, Ianto chuckled. “That would be a bit pointless I suppose.”


“Exactly. Come on; let’s get you patched up. It’s been a long day.”


Smiling, Ianto allowed himself to be steered through the door and up the stairs towards the main Hub. Thanks to luck, fate, or something even more mysterious he’d survived another day with Torchwood and for the moment, that was enough.



The End











Tags: fic, fic: one-shot, fic: pg, fic_promptly, ianto jones, jack harkness, jack/ianto, owen harper, team, torchwood fic, toshiko sato
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