Double Drabble: Worried Parents
Jul. 21st, 2020 05:59 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bk_forever
Title: Worried Parents
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
badly_knitted
Characters: Ianto, Jack, Meriel, Nosy.
Rating: G
Written For: Challenge 614: Nonstop at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
tw100.
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: Meriel won’t stop crying.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
A/N: Double drabble.
“What’s wrong with her? Why won’t she stop crying? Is she ill?” Ianto was getting desperate; it was the middle of the night, somewhere around two, and Meriel had been wailing loudly, non-stop, for almost three hours.
She’d seemed fine at her ten o’clock feed, she’d drunk her milk eagerly, then needed changing, but after that she’d gone right to sleep like a good little girl, before waking them crying a little after eleven. Since then they’d tried everything they could think of but nothing would calm her, not even Nosy’s soothing hum.
“I don’t know!” Jack was equally worried. “She doesn’t need changing, she’s not hungry, too hot, or too cold, and she’s only two months old so she can’t be teething.”
“It’s not wind,” Ianto added; they’d tried burping her countless times. “Must be colic; poor little lamb. Is your tummy hurting, baby girl?”
“But she’s never been like this before, she’s such a good baby, and we already tried all the suggested remedies.” Jack paced back and forth, rocking his crying daughter. “Maybe we should call Owen.”
“He probably knows less about babies than we do!”
In desperation, Jack started to sing. In moments, Meriel was asleep.
The End
Author:
badly_knittedCharacters: Ianto, Jack, Meriel, Nosy.
Rating: G
Written For: Challenge 614: Nonstop at
tw100.Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: Meriel won’t stop crying.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
A/N: Double drabble.
“What’s wrong with her? Why won’t she stop crying? Is she ill?” Ianto was getting desperate; it was the middle of the night, somewhere around two, and Meriel had been wailing loudly, non-stop, for almost three hours.
She’d seemed fine at her ten o’clock feed, she’d drunk her milk eagerly, then needed changing, but after that she’d gone right to sleep like a good little girl, before waking them crying a little after eleven. Since then they’d tried everything they could think of but nothing would calm her, not even Nosy’s soothing hum.
“I don’t know!” Jack was equally worried. “She doesn’t need changing, she’s not hungry, too hot, or too cold, and she’s only two months old so she can’t be teething.”
“It’s not wind,” Ianto added; they’d tried burping her countless times. “Must be colic; poor little lamb. Is your tummy hurting, baby girl?”
“But she’s never been like this before, she’s such a good baby, and we already tried all the suggested remedies.” Jack paced back and forth, rocking his crying daughter. “Maybe we should call Owen.”
“He probably knows less about babies than we do!”
In desperation, Jack started to sing. In moments, Meriel was asleep.
The End
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