Recovery: Chapter 15 - Friendship
Aug. 31st, 2009 06:26 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
aviv_b_artworkRATING: Chapter 15 - PG-13 for language
CHARACTERS: Ianto, Owen, OCs-Saundra Bennett, Jonathan Bennett, Kelly O'Hara
WORDS: ~ 880
SUMMARY: Ianto makes a new friend
Old friends pass away, new friends appear. It is just like the days. An old day passes, a new day arrives. The important thing is to make it meaningful...The Dalai Lama
Ianto was surprised that rehab on his hand started the day after surgery. He was still pretty doped up but a therapist came by to test finger sensitivity and manipulate his hand so none of the ligaments and tendons would tighten up from lack of use.
Within a week he was going to physical therapy in the rehabilitation center. He watched other patients undergoing treatment and realized that he wasn’t nearly the worst off person being treated.
After one particularly grueling session, he texted Owen when he got back to his room.
‘I got to tell you, this was a BAD day. The therapist kept flexing my fingers backwards; I swear she was trained at the CIA’s Guantanamo Bay school of physical therapy. Good thing, I can’t make noise, I’m sure I would have been calling her every nasty name I could think of in Welsh, between the screaming of course.’
Owen was concerned that Ianto was getting adequate pain relief, but Ianto insisted he was OK. ‘Owen, there’s guys here who don’t have legs, one guy had the side of his face shot off, so if they cam keep them out of pain, I don’t think you have to worry about me.’
Owen wasn’t fully convinced but figured he’d follow up with Martha to make sure everything was going as well as Ianto stated.
***
About three weeks into his therapy, Saundra stopped by and asked if he felt up to meeting someone she wanted to introduce to him later that day. Ianto shrugged and nodded.
A few hours later, Saundra came back with a man who looked familiar from the therapy center. Ianto had noticed him walking with a slight limp and had been told that he had a leg injury from shrapnel. Ianto thought he might be older than him by a few years and while he wasn’t as tall as Ianto, he was much more powerfully built.
“Ianto, this is my son, Lieutenant Jonathan Bennett. He’s just back from his second tour in Afghanistan.” She carefully put his coat on a chair as well as something on the table. “I’m leaving a little something for you both on the table over here, and I’ll let you two get acquainted,” she said as she headed to the door.
The man held out his right hand. Ianto looked at his own right hand, shrugged and held out his left hand instead. The man switched to his left hand and laughed nervously.
“Sorry about that. I didn’t think. Just call me John.”
Ianto held up his phone for the man to see and began to type. ‘Ianto Jones, it’s pronounced Yantoe. Yeah, I haven’t quite figured out how to handle that yet. Don’t mean to be rude, but I can’t afford any further damage to the hand. ’
“Canary Wharf, right.” Ianto nodded. “Pretty lucky all things considered. Not many survivors were there?”
Ianto was a little taken back by John’s bluntness, but realized that as someone who had seen combat he would be used to talking about casualties.
‘What happened to you?’
“Our transport hit a roadside bomb. Only two out of the eight of us survived. You’ve seen the man in the therapy who lost both his legs?” Ianto nodded. “He’s the other survivor. You could say I’m pretty lucky as well.”
‘Shit, I’m really sorry.’
“I’ll make you a deal. Let’s agree that we’re both lucky bastards and not have any pity parties, OK?”
Ianto smiled. ‘Yeah, that sounds good.’
“Let’s see what Mother left for us.” It was a small chess set. “I’ve heard you’re pretty good. Not bad myself, and no I’m not going to let you win. Oh and there’s one special rule. You can only move the pieces with your right hand.” John smirked as he sat down at the table and began to set up the board.
Ianto sat down across from him. When he tried to reach out with his left hand, John lightly smacked it away. “Last time I checked, I outranked you Torchwood arse-wipe, and if I say you’re playing with your right hand, then that’s what you are going to do.”
‘Screw you, Lieutenant Cocksucker!’
“Yeah, bite me you fuck-tard.”
‘You just watch me whip your arse.’
“Promises, promises. You want white or black?”
They played two games, both ending in draws. Ianto didn’t realize how much he had used his right hand until they finished the second game. John saw him wince a little as he moved his hand. “Are you due some pain medication?”
‘Unfortunately, not for another hour. And somebody forgot to refill the mini-bar.’
“Mother would kill me, but have some of mine.” John pulled a small bottle out of his coat pocket, took a sip and handed it to Ianto. Ianto wasn’t sure it was the best idea, but what the hell, he took a good sized gulp.
“Let’s have that back; if you end up wasted, I’ll be subjected to Mother’s lecture number one hundred and forty-three…why gimps should not get each other drunk.”
Ianto snorted.
“Look, I’m here every Tuesday and Thursday for the foreseeable future, so you up for another game Thursday afternoon?”
‘Yeah, and some more whiskey would be nice.’
John held out his left hand and shook hands with Ianto. “Alright, see you then...wanker.” Ianto smiled and rolled his eyes.
Chapter 16 is here: http://aviv-b.livejournal.com/6329.html
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no subject
Date: 2009-09-01 12:17 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-01 11:12 am (UTC)I liked JOhns Idea of getting ianto to play with his right hand, It certainly will help the recovery. I really like his new friend.
no subject
Date: 2009-09-01 01:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-02 06:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-04-12 05:47 pm (UTC)