Date: 2009-07-20 03:09 pm (UTC)
The adrenaline that surged the instant the fight started and sustained him through the injury when he first received it has drained now, leaving only emptiness and pain in its wake. He's lost blood, though not enough to be in any danger. (He's bled to death plenty of times; it's a horrible way to die.)

Now the adrenaline's gone, he's feeling every bit of the pain in his shoulder, every bit of the blood loss, every bit of the exertion of running for Simon.

He can put himself through a lot, but it's never without cost.

"Short story is, I got shot. I need you to take a look at it. It'll heal good as new, but it won't heal instantly." Not like it would if it had killed him, but he doesn't need to say that. She's seen him die before. She knows what happens.

He sinks down into a chair, glad to be off his feet. God, he's tired. Times like these, when his body's protesting, when he's drained in the wake of an adrenaline rush, remind him why, as a young man, he'd so easily become addicted to drugs. Why he needs a lover to bring him back to exhilaration and make him feel alive again. How many nights, after how many missions, have he and Ianto revived each other from the adrenaline crash?

The emptiness of his room is going to be especially pronounced tonight.
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July 2009

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