m_findlow

Title: Feverish
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Jack, Ianto
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 500 words
Content notes: none
Author notes: Written for Challenge 450 - Past Challenges Revisited & Challenge 127 - Skin at slashthedrabble
Summary: Jack can only protect his team from so many things

Jack pressed the damp washcloth to Ianto's forehead, another sharp twinge of guilt at the pained little whimper he received. This was his fault. If he could have gone back and change things he would have.

Ianto's skin was flushed and red, angry red spots breaking out all over, and soaked with sweat. Each time Jack dunked the cloth in ice cold water, squeezing it out and pressing it to his head, it brought only seconds of relief before it too was warm from the fiery skin. No matter how he tried, the fever just wouldn't break, sending Ianto from sweat-soaked fever to clammy, shivering goosebumps and back again, never settling on either for more than an hour.

Alien tech was easy to identify as being deadly dangerous or as boring as a toaster. Plants, animals and other biologicals were much harder to discern. That was the problem. Jack had developed three thousand years of immunities to all kinds of plants and pollens that he didn't even know he possessed. To his best knowledge, things that fell through the rift were harmless, until such time as it became clear that they were anything but harmless, leaving one or more of his team, or other innocent bystanders suffering. It wasn't fair, and oftentimes, there was little he could do to prevent it.

Jack ran his fingers through Ianto's damp hair as he lay there, eyes closed, uncomfortable even with the towel underneath his body, drawing away as much of the perspiration as possible. How many times would he be forced to sit there helpless, wiping away the blood and the sweat and the filth from his lover's precious skin? How many scars and other marks had he earned that would never fade for as long as he lived? Jack knew them all by heart, the location, their story, lavishing special attention on them with his hands and lips, trying to reward each of them for the suffering they'd endured.

No matter how he tried, it seemed impossible to protect the people he loved from getting hurt. He knew it was their job and that they'd accepted the risks, but it didn't ease his conscience one bit. He was supposed to keep them safe.

He shouldn't have taken Ianto with him on the retrieval. He should have left him tucked up in bed, but Ianto had insisted. What was the point of trying to sleep, knowing Jack was out there working. The plant had looked plain enough. Jack had seen them a billion times before, nothing more than an intergalactic weed. Another twinge of guilt as he remembered letting Ianto pick it up, making a joke about how Ianto was an expert in dealing with obnoxious things. More guilt as he remembered the trip back to the hub, Ianto complaining how his skin felt prickly and hot.

It didn't matter than Owen had run tests to confirm the fever would pass eventually, no harm done. Jack would know that he'd done harm.