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Entry tags:
Challenge 818 - Scarred for life
Title: Scarred for life
Character: Ianto, Jack
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 200 words
Content notes: None
Author notes: Written for Challenge 818 - Skin at ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
torchwood100
torchwood100Summary: Ianto's life is just a series of scars. A double drabble.
‘It’s probably going to leave a scar,’ Ianto said, looking over his shoulder at his reflection in the mirror as he peeled away the protective bandage in order to clean the wound and apply more of the healing salve Owen had prescribed. He squirmed and twisted himself in a knot to try and reach the spot on his back that couldn't have been more perfectly out of reach.
‘Here, let me help,’ Jack said, tying a towel around his waist and letting the shower run without him under it. He dabbed at the star-shaped wound as gently as he could, still picturing the weapon lodged in Ianto’s back. It was beyond remarkable that it had missed everything: lung, kidney, gallbladder… A miracle.
‘Surprised I'm not covered in scars,’ Ianto said, watching Jack tend to him. ‘Can’t think of anywhere that hasn’t been injured, though being stabbed by a massive alien spear is definitely one for the scrapbook.’
Jack rubbed the salve in slow circles, trying not to look. If he did, he’d picture every last cut, scrape and bullet hole, all healed over with perfect vanilla skin and a smattering of freckles. Each one a mark closer to inevitable death.
‘It’s probably going to leave a scar,’ Ianto said, looking over his shoulder at his reflection in the mirror as he peeled away the protective bandage in order to clean the wound and apply more of the healing salve Owen had prescribed. He squirmed and twisted himself in a knot to try and reach the spot on his back that couldn't have been more perfectly out of reach.
‘Here, let me help,’ Jack said, tying a towel around his waist and letting the shower run without him under it. He dabbed at the star-shaped wound as gently as he could, still picturing the weapon lodged in Ianto’s back. It was beyond remarkable that it had missed everything: lung, kidney, gallbladder… A miracle.
‘Surprised I'm not covered in scars,’ Ianto said, watching Jack tend to him. ‘Can’t think of anywhere that hasn’t been injured, though being stabbed by a massive alien spear is definitely one for the scrapbook.’
Jack rubbed the salve in slow circles, trying not to look. If he did, he’d picture every last cut, scrape and bullet hole, all healed over with perfect vanilla skin and a smattering of freckles. Each one a mark closer to inevitable death.