m_findlow

Title: Escape to dreamland
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters/Pairings: Owen, Gwen, Ianto
Word Count: 500 words
Rating: PG
Notes: Written for Challenge 175 - Drowsy at anythingdrabble
Summary: Circumstances collide to drive Owen to blissful slumber.

Owen could barely keep his eyes open. The sooner they got back to Cardiff the better. This assignment had been shit from the moment they'd left and had gotten progressively worse from there on. There were times when he wondered why he'd taken a Hippocratic oath when there were people out there like this lot that didn't deserve to live, let alone be treated. Jack should have killed them instead of just wounding them. It was no less than they deserved.

He shouldn't be this tired, he thought. He'd done plenty of round the clock shifts in A and E, and longer nights at Torchwood than this one, but the countryside had knocked the stuffing out of him. Give him the grimy city streets any day.

He'd been run off his feet all through the night and into the early morning patching up the gunshot wounds Jack had inflicted on the cannibals until paramedics could arrive. He hadn't wanted to but in order of most badly injured to least, his own teammates came last, which only annoyed him more. He knew the paramedics wouldn't do as good a job as he would, but a few extra pairs of hands wouldn't hurt.

He wasn't in bad shape himself. That copper had only roughed him up a little when he'd hauled them off to the house. Gwen needed some proper antiseptic treatment for her gunshot wounds, though. The other two were badly bruised and had painkillers from the SUV's stockpile, but should be otherwise okay. Concussion for the Teaboy perhaps, which he'd keep an eye on.

He cast a glance sideways at Gwen in the back seat with him. She was leaning into him and dozing now that she had a fresh round of painkillers. Owen was quite enjoying her proximity, even if she hadn't meant to get that close. They did make a good pairing.

On his other side was Ianto, staring off into space out the side window and fighting against fatigue to keep his own eyes open. He looked as knackered as Owen felt. Owen felt even more drowsy just looking at him. He should probably talk to Ianto and not let him fall asleep. Concussion and sleep were not a good combination, but Owen felt his own eyelids droop heavily. If he closed them now he might not wake up again until they were back in Cardiff, and this whole bloody thing would be over. That was good enough for him. They couldn't be more than two hours from home. He'd have a job when he got back to the hub, doing a final check on his teammates before sending them home for a proper sleep. He'd be the last one to get to bed so it couldn't hurt to get a nap squeezed in now.

He let his eyes close and his head slump leftward against Gwen's, smelling the grassy scent of her hair. She smelled like countryside and sweat and the dreamy scent of untapped desire.