Torchwood: Divergence
Book One: Dychwelyd
Chapter 52
Jack eased Ianto back against the pillows, stood up to remove his coat and drape it over the chair before rolling up his shirt sleeves to the elbow. Then he carefully turned down the covers to the bottom of the bed, a fond smile appearing on his face as he inched off the younger man's boxer briefs. The provided flannel went into the pan to be soaked and wrung out, the Captain settling onto the side of the mattress again so he could use the cloth on his companion's face and neck. He moved slowly, bathing then drying a small area at a time. Arms and hands came next, followed by upper chest. A careful, assisted shift exposed the Welshman's back, and Harkness cradled him against his chest as he gently washed and dried the pale skin there, sparing an extra caress for the burn scar from Canary Wharf.
As he gingerly settled Ianto among the pillows once more, Jack leaned close to brush the eternal twenty-six-year-old's lips with his own, then claimed the fevered brunette's mouth in a more lingering kiss as the damp washcloth went back into the basin. Slowly the American drew away, taking up the flannel once more to begin lightly sponging over the badly bruised portion of his lover's torso.
"How's the heart rate?" he queried with raised brows, careful not to apply too much pressure to the injured tissues he was bathing. "Have I managed to raise it any yet?"
"Gettin' there..." Ianto breathed, still fatigued and in pain but obviously enjoying the former Time Agent's attentions. "You have a lovely bedside manner... You must've taken lessons while I was off in Hell..."
Jack laughed, rewetting the cloth and moving down the bed slightly to start on the younger brunette's legs once the damaged area had been properly dried off. With both legs and feet tended to, a fresh flannel went into the still very warm water.
"Let's see what else I can raise," he grinned suggestively, wringing the excess moisture from the terry in his hands.
The damp cloth slid across Ianto's groin, the hand guiding it slowly inching it down into intimate areas. The Archivist's breathing accelerated noticeably and he winced as his stomach muscles tensed involuntarily.
"That works..." he gasped, then whimpered and twitched as his Captain briefly abandoned the bed bath in favour of other hands-on treatment.
Out in the Hub, the rest of the team went about their duties, trying hard to ignore the occasional yelp of pain, bark of laughter, or coughing plea for mercy that filtered past the bedroom's door to register on the office's CCTV feed. But there'd been silence for some time when Lois showed up at the cog-wheel door to relieve Gwen on Rift monitor duty. The young woman pointed to the office and raised a curious brow.
"Do you think it's okay to go have a quick word?" she asked cautiously.
"Definitely knock first," Cooper smiled, jotting down a reading from the screens in front of her. "There was a rather interesting bed bath occurring earlier."
"Heart rate," Habiba nodded with a knowing smile, all of them now well familiar with the antics involved in speeding up the Scieron Changeling's recuperative abilities. "I won't be a minute."
She hurried up into the office, crossed to the rear bookcase and knocked on the heavy wood frame.
"Come," Harkness called from within, so she cracked the door open and peeked inside.
Ianto was sitting up beneath the covers, supported by multiple pillows against the headboard, and his partner occupied the chair that had been pulled over by the bedside near the night table. The Captain still had his shirt sleeves rolled up, and both feet propped on the lower rail of the bed frame. The recovering Archivist was wearing an oxygen cannula, appeared tired and pale, an unbuttoned pyjama top affording a glimpse of the still livid bruises on his lower chest and stomach, but he didn't look as ghastly as he had upstairs about an hour before.
"Are you feeling better?" Lois prodded hopefully, hesitantly approaching the bed.
"Yes, thanks..." Ianto replied with a weary smile, a slight liquid rattle behind his words.
"Um, I just wanted to let you know that your sister's fine," the young woman explained, still a bit nervous when facing the two men together and feeling extra awkward standing in their bedroom. "I was worried this could happen again with other members of her family. So, while I was waiting for the paramedics I typed up a fake letter from a local holistic shop Mrs. Davies apparently frequents when in town. It, uh, said that to help with her and her family's lingering issues over the death of her brother, they all needed to sit down at bed time and tell themselves that any time they think they see him, that it's just, um, just a ghost of memory and he's truly gone. I put in that she should have them all drink a cup of tea with special herbal powder that would help them sleep and put their minds at rest... that they all needed to do it, even if it was mostly for her sake. And I, uh, crushed up four Retcon like Martha used, opened a few of those chai tea bags from the TIC's back room, mixed the drug with the loose tea and then wrapped it all in a piece of bright tissue the way the herb shops do. I put it inside the folded letter and then slipped the lot into her purse. So, when she gets home, hopefully she'll share it and this won't happen again. I don't know if it'll work, but it seemed a good idea to at least try."
Ianto blinked at her, then exchanged a look with Jack, before they both turned back to regard the twenty-eight-year-old fidgeting near the end of the bed.
"I hope you aren't angry," Habiba continued with a pensive look. "And I didn't mean to overstep my position, but it seemed the safest thing to do."
"You did fine..." Jones wheezed, starting to cough and reaching quickly for the small bin his partner held out to him.
"You showed initiative and handled a touchy situation with clear, calm reasoning," Jack stated evenly, smiling disarmingly at their receptionist. "It was a good idea and shows you're looking out for your fellow Torchwood agents. Thank you for the extra effort."
"You're welcome," Lois smiled, wincing in sympathy when the Guardian beneath the covers coughed up a large quantity of blood into the bin he held and groaned as the effort pulled against the bruises he was nursing. "Can I get you anything before I relieve Gwen? Water? Juice?"
"Apple would be nice..." Ianto replied hoarsely, exchanging the dust bin for a cold, damp cloth his lover handed to him. "Kills some of the copper taste..."
"Coming right up," Habiba nodded, turning to hurry from the room.
"She's doing really well..." the young Welshman breathed, wiping his face with the cool flannel before giving it back. "Still needs practice with the coffee though..."
"Only when you aren't up to the task," Harkness laughed, taking the bin into the bathroom to rinse it out.
He returned it to the bed side, before sliding over onto the mattress to lay a gentle hand in the centre of his beloved's chest.
"Need another boost?" the Captain asked with quiet concern.
"Can't hurt..." his lover conceded.
Jack shifted his hand up to cradle the twenty-six-year-old's jaw and leaned in to engage him in a good old fashioned tongue twining, palate tickling, teeth counting snog.
"Don't mean to interrupt the medical treatment," Gwen called from the doorway, not surprised when Harkness simply waved her in, and chuckled as he continued to kiss his un-protesting Archivist. "I've got your juice, and Martha whipped up a few more gel-caps for you in case you're still feeling congested in an hour or so."
"Thanks..." Ianto sighed as their leader finally drew back and relocated to the chair once more.
"Is that meant for me or Jack?" Cooper giggled, handing her friend the bottle of cold apple juice and reaching past the nearby American to place the medicine on the nightstand beside the lamp.
"Yes..." the bed bound Welshman smiled, his breathing a little stronger and his blue-grey eyes bright.
"You two," the former constable shook her head and started for the door. "Martha and I stole the coffee from your picnic hamper; I put the sandwiches and water in the kitchenette fridge. Maybe you can have another go tomorrow night... Halloween... could be fun."
She'd just hit the door when the Rift alarm went off, and she whirled around to point a stern finger at the Captain who was half out of his chair.
"Sit. Stay." Gwen commanded firmly. "Whatever it is, Turlough and I will handle it. You get him feeling better, yeah?"
"Woof..." Jack pouted, resuming his seat as the former constable closed the door and took off out of the office.
"Good boy..." Ianto chuckled, starting to cough again.
He spat blood into the quickly proffered bin, and then met his partner's gaze.
"I'll be fine if you really want to go..." he wheezed, another bout of coughing hitting as he spoke. "Worryin'... 'bout you will... definitely up my heart rate..."
"If she calls for back up I'll go," Harkness decided, wringing out the cool flannel for his partner once more. "You know how she loves to take charge."
"Earcomm?" Ianto suggested, burying his face in the damp terry for a moment.
"Want one?" the older immortal queried, gaining his feet.
"You can give me the highlights..." Ianto coughed, pulling the much-abused bin close again with a grimace of pain.
Jack nodded and hurried from the room; the cog-wheel door rotating shut in the Hub as he strode through the office. It was going to be an interesting evening after all.
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AN: Jack's getting quite good at the whole alternative medicine thing…
Thank you to those reading the story. And thank you to those who have followed, favourited, and reviewed. NM
