Characters: Ianto, Jack
Summary: Ianto always keeps his promises, but not today.
Word Count: 500
Written For: Prompt # 431 - Broken Promise, at slashthedrabble.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters. They belong to the BBC.
“You won’t forget to pick up the dry cleaning on your way back, will you? Only, this is my last clean pair of trousers that still fit.”
Ianto rolled his eyes at Jack’s question. “Jack, since when did I ever forget the dry cleaning? Or anything else, for that matter? Anyone would think I was embarking on some sort of perilous quest instead of just nipping to ASDA to do the shopping. I’ll fetch your trousers, just like always.”
“Promise?” Jack asked, all puppy-eyed and pleading.
“Yes, I promise!”
“And you’ll be careful?”
“It’s ASDA, Jack, not a war zone! Although I can understand how you might get the two mixed up.” Ianto had no idea what had got into Jack today, but he seemed to need a lot of reassurance. Shaking his head, he sighed and gave in. “I’ll be careful.” He pressed a quick kiss to his husband’s lips. “I promise. Being pregnant is turning you into a worrywart.”
“I can’t help it. Sorry.”
“It’s fine, just try not to worry too much while I’m out. I’ll be back in a couple of hours. And yes, that’s a promise too.” With one last kiss, Ianto set off for the shops.
ASDA was busy, but Ianto soon had everything they needed in his trolley and he joined the end of the queue at one of the checkouts, shuffling slowly forward until it was his turn. With everything paid for and bagged up, including Jack’s weekly supply of Marmite, which he ate with everything these days, Ianto wheeled his bags out to the car, loaded the boot, and parked the empty trolley in a nearby collection point, retrieving his pound coin. There was only one last stop to make before home.
He had to drive halfway across town through the midday traffic to get to the dry-cleaner’s they used, and as no parking spaces were available out front when he arrived, he pulled in a couple of streets away and headed back on foot, waiting at the pedestrian crossing until the green man showed it was safe. He was almost across when the car came out of nowhere, skidding around the corner, and his last thought before it hit him was that Jack would be mad at him for breaking his promises. For a brief moment he was aware of pain, and then there was only blackness.
When Ianto opened his eyes again, he was lying on a hospital trolley in a small, curtained-off area he recognised as one of the treatment bays of the local A & E department. A bulky blue-grey shape was hunched beside him on a stool.
“Ianto! You’re awake!”
“’m sorry, broke my promise, didn’t get the dry-cleaning.”
“Doesn’t matter, it’s a miracle that’s all you broke. You were lucky, the car just clipped you, sent you flying and you hit your head on the kerb. You’ll be fine, just bruises and concussion.”
Ianto closed his eyes, relieved. It could’ve been so much worse.