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Entry tags:
Challenge 800 - Inseparable
Title: Inseparable
Character: Martha Jones, Ianto
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 200 words
Content notes: None
Author notes: Written for Challenge 800 - Lucky at ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
torchwood100
torchwood100Summary: In the aftermath, Martha knows Ianto and Jack will be just fine. A double drabble.
‘Can someone fetch me a blanket?’ Martha called out. It wasn’t long before someone heeded her orders and produced one, which she promptly wrapped around Ianto’s shoulders, pulling it tight. She pursed her lips as she looked at him with her doctorly concern. ‘Are you alright?’
He nodded his head, though still slightly unsure which bits were real and which bits were just happening in his head. He didn’t think he’d imagine being this cold, so this bit was probably real. He’d had a bike at some point, but he wasn’t sure where he’d left it. All these underground tunnels looked the same to him. He should find the bike and make sure he returned it. It was the least the Ambassador for Wales should do, he decided.
‘I wanted to go with them,’ he mumbled. ‘With the dead.’ It had sounded like such a nice idea, being able to see them all again.
Martha gave his shoulders a squeeze. ‘But you didn’t.’
‘No,’ he admitted. ‘I remembered how much I'd miss Jack and that if I was dead I'd never see him again because he can’t die.’
Martha kissed his cheek. ‘That’s why he’s so lucky to have you.’
‘Can someone fetch me a blanket?’ Martha called out. It wasn’t long before someone heeded her orders and produced one, which she promptly wrapped around Ianto’s shoulders, pulling it tight. She pursed her lips as she looked at him with her doctorly concern. ‘Are you alright?’
He nodded his head, though still slightly unsure which bits were real and which bits were just happening in his head. He didn’t think he’d imagine being this cold, so this bit was probably real. He’d had a bike at some point, but he wasn’t sure where he’d left it. All these underground tunnels looked the same to him. He should find the bike and make sure he returned it. It was the least the Ambassador for Wales should do, he decided.
‘I wanted to go with them,’ he mumbled. ‘With the dead.’ It had sounded like such a nice idea, being able to see them all again.
Martha gave his shoulders a squeeze. ‘But you didn’t.’
‘No,’ he admitted. ‘I remembered how much I'd miss Jack and that if I was dead I'd never see him again because he can’t die.’
Martha kissed his cheek. ‘That’s why he’s so lucky to have you.’
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