m_findlow

Title: Slow to heal
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters/Pairings: Ianto, Jack
Word Count: 500 words
Rating: PG
Notes: Written for Challenge 54 - Fast
Summary: Ianto is determined to get back on his feet as quickly as possible.

Ianto lay on the sofa, listening to the sounds of Jack banging around the house, trying to do housework. Ianto suspected he was making more of a mess than he was cleaning, and that by rights, there shouldn't have been that much that needed tidying. Jack had been at work most of the time, and Ianto was stuck at home, recuperating from an alien virus that had left him bedridden for two weeks. Nothing should be out of place. A little dusting perhaps, a few dishes, but that was it. Jack home for the morning was something of a treat, or had been until he'd started making a ruckus.

Ianto's ears pricked up at the sound of the doorbell chiming. 'I'll get it!' he called out, quickly pushing himself off the sofa, determined to beat Jack to the door. He knew who would be on the other side - their friendly neighbourhood postman, coming to deliver a package.

In a world of electronics and digital media, books still found a special place in Ianto's heart. Reading a novel on a screen just wasn't the same as holding a book in your hands. It was all about feeling the texture of the paper and the gloss and raised print of the title on the front cover.

With nothing else to do at home, he'd been shopping online, sending himself little parcels of joy through the mail to break up his days. Partly it was for something to do, partly just to have five minutes of company as he signed for each one at the door, looking out at the world going on without him. He could probably go for a walk during the day, but somehow he knew Jack would find out and be annoyed with him. He was meant to be resting and recuperating, but that just equated to mindless hours of boredom, interspersed with heating up pre-prepared containers of soups and casseroles donated by all of the women in his life.

There was a moment of confusion as he looked up, seeing nothing but plain white.

'Is he okay?' came the question.

'He's fine,' Jack replied. Jack's head hovered over his face. 'Are you happy now?' he asked.

It was only as the thread of questions sank in that Ianto realised he was lying on the hardwood flooring of their hallway. 'How did I get here?'

'You fainted,' Jack replied. 'In your haste to get to the door. What did I tell you about not getting up too fast?' He helped Ianto slowly sit up, the floor colder than he remembered.

'I've got your package, Mr Jones,' the postie said, looking concerned and a little awkward at having been swept up into the petty emergency. 'You needn't have rushed. I always wait a full five minutes before leaving a collection card. I know you've been a bit under the weather.'

'See?' Jack chastised. 'No need to shop til you drop. Now take your purchases and stay on that damn sofa.'