Title: Healing The Healer
Fandom: The Fantastic Journey
Author: [personal profile] badly_knitted
Characters: Jonathan Willaway, Varian.
Rating: PG
Setting: After the series.
Summary: Jonathan is a scientist, Varian is the healer, but right now Varian is in no condition to tend his own injuries, so Jonathan will have to do it for him.
Word Count: 400
Content Notes: Nada.
Written For: Challenge 501: Amnesty 83, using Challenge 16: Role Reversal.
Disclaimer: I don’t own The Fantastic Journey, or the characters. They belong to their creators.
A/N: Quadruple drabble.



“I’m not a healer, you know,” Jonathan muttered as he fussed over Varian. “That’s your job. Well, yours and Fred’s. I’m a scientist. I don’t have a clue what I’m doing, or what I SHOULD be doing.”

Unfortunately, Fred wasn’t there, and neither were Scott or Liana; the group of travellers had become separated thanks to one of the roving vortex storms, so here Jonathan was, alone with only Varian for company, and Varian was unhelpfully unconscious.

Not that Jonathan blamed his friend, the Vortex storm hadn’t been gentle with either of them, and Jonathan suspected he’d been knocked out too. He didn’t remember anything between bracing himself as the storm hit and finding himself… wherever he was now, lying on damp grass at the bottom of a steep hill, with Varian a few yards away, and no sign of the rest of their party. They’d have to go in search of their companions, once Varian was conscious. Assuming the healer wasn’t too badly injured to move.

There was blood, which wasn’t encouraging; it looked like the storm had dropped Varian on something sharp, or he’d sustained an injury while sliding and rolling down the hill. Jonathan felt rather battered and bruised himself, but it seemed his leather jacket had protected him from serious damage. Varian’s thin shirt had provided no protection whatsoever; he had a nasty cut to his left arm, which seemed to be the source of all the blood.

Thankfully, there was a stream close by, so Jonathan had been able to clean the wound; he suspected it probably needed stitches, but that would have to wait until they found Fred, or Fred found them. For now, the best he could do was bind the wound. Unfortunately, the only thing he had that could serve as a bandage was a silk scarf, tucked away at the bottom of his bag. A shame to ruin it, but Varian’s need was greater than his own, so… It would have to do.

“Well, I don’t think I’ve made too bad a job of that.” Jonathan sat back on his heels. “I just hope you don’t have a concussion, or internal injuries, or something, because bandaging a cut is about the extent of my medical skills. You know, now might be a good time for you to wake up.” He waited. Nothing happened. “Well, perhaps you should rest a while longer.”


The End

 


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