"Well, it's no chicken noodle soup," Ianto replies, as he makes his way over to perch on the edge of the bed beside the other man, "but it'll do just as well, in a pinch." He notes the way that John's giving him a little more of his attention than he had before, which is perhaps a sign that the pain reliever has started to do its job. His tone lighter, a little less forced than it had been previously.

Handing one of the cups out to John, he waits until he takes one before precariously balancing his own beside him to tear off a chunk of bread and hand that to the other man as well. "I think it's some sort of a mushroom broth," he replies, after John's received both from him. "Though there are other vegetables in there as well. It smelled good. And bread, of course. There's some sort of herb baked in, but I'll be damned if I can tell what it is."