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d8rkmessngrAuthor: d8rkmessngr
Pairing: Jack/OMC, Jack/?, Jack/Ianto eventually, het and slash
Rating: NC-17
Summary: He left Jack on the game station. Abandoned. But then…he came back…different. An AU look on what happens if things happened differently. Doctor Who 'verse with Torchwood later on.
Warnings: Please read each chapter's individual warnings. Some parts down the road may briefly mention non-con, abuse, and/or violence. Dark in the beginning. Please note there are some dark thoughts as my boys are broken…for now. Each chapter will be labeled for your convenience.
Author's Notes: Note that "the Year That Never Was" was suggested that it wasn't fun. I took it as a challenge to somehow still find a way to instill comfort in it. If it didn't work, I'm sorry. I suck. LOL.
Disclaimer: RTD and BBC owns them. I'm just borrowing them for a while.
Warning For This Chapter: strong language, dark, angsty, VIOLENCE, torture (mostly implied, all a matter of reader interpretation), sappy maudlin
Notes For This Chapter: Note there are events/dialogue here that was referenced in DW's "Last of the Time Lords"
Prologue + Ch , Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6, Ch 7, Ch 8, Ch 9, Ch 10, Ch 11, Ch 12, Ch 13, Ch 14, Ch 15, Ch 16, Ch 17, Ch 18, Ch 19, Ch 20, Ch 21, Ch 22, Ch 23, Ch 24, Ch 25, Ch 26, Ch 27, Ch 28, Ch 29, Ch 30, Ch 31, Ch 32, Ch 33, Ch 34, Ch 35, Ch 36 Ch 37, Ch 38, Ch 39, Ch 40 1/11, Ch 40 2/11, Ch 40 3/11, Ch 40 4/11, Ch 40 5/11, Ch 40 6/11, Ch 40 7/11, Ch 40 8/11, Ch 40 9/11, Ch 40 10/11
Master Fic List: here
Chapter 40 "The Last of the Time Lords"
Conclusion 1/2: "We execute him."
He was having trouble breathing.
Ianto stared at the ceiling, gasping. There was a weight on his chest that stopped him from drawing a breath.
Odd, he thought fuzzily, it had hurt a lot more last time.
There was shouting above him, bullets flying harmlessly in the air although how Ianto knew that he wasn't quite sure. All he knew for certain was that he couldn't breathe. No, that was an exaggeration; he could breathe. Sort of. It felt like something heavy was sitting on his chest.
"Ianto!"
Ianto thought Gwen sounded shocked but not as stunned as she was before. Getting shot must have gotten quite old for her.
Ianto could hear Owen yelling—always yelling, that Owen—and Tosh shouting with a ferocity Ianto hadn't expected from her. Then he heard another voice.
"Blimey," the Doctor wheezed, "you're heavy."
"Doctor!" Martha sounded sharp. "You all right?"
"I'm fine, I'm fine. He—Oh, hello! You must be Mr. Jones! We haven't actually met, well, properly, that is."
"Sorry about that, Doctor," a voice apologized, "didn't mean to be quite so rough. Let me help you up there."
Ianto frowned to himself. That wasn't Jack. Where was Jack?
"He didn't choose you."
No, Ianto thought and the heaviness in his chest grew, Jack didn't.
Hands slipped under his head and Ianto groaned when the fingers felt a newly discovered lump on the back of his skull.
Owen's pinched face blocked the ceiling. "Think you can get up, mate?"
Can't. Shot, Ianto thought peevishly.
"No, you weren't, but your head took quite a knocking."
Ianto blinked up at Owen. Had he spoken out loud?
Hands moved under his shoulders and tugged. Ianto struggled to sit up and the weight on his chest shifted to his legs. Owen swore and suddenly he was gone from view.
The room tilted for a second. Ianto took slow breaths before everything cleared and the nausea passed. He looked down automatically and something in his throat squeezed.
"Jack," Ianto croaked.
Slumped over his legs, a fresh bloody stain on his shirt, Jack lay gray and unmoving over Ianto's thighs.
"I…How…" Ianto batted away Owen's hands as he pulled Jack to him. He swept his hands over Jack's torso. The wet heat of the fresh wound directly over Jack's heart made Ianto gag. "I thought…"
"He chose you."
The flat accusation made Ianto look up. Saxon stood in front of him, his screwdriver in his hand and dangling uselessly by his side. Saxon looked at him, no, at Jack with a mixture of confusion and weariness.
Limp, cooling, Jack settled against Ianto's chest. Ianto held him close but shivered at the icy skin he could feel through his shirt. It reminded him too much of Abbadon.
"He'll come back," Ianto whispered when he saw Owen staring at him. Ianto offered a smile but the raw—Ianto couldn't describe it—something on Owen's face wouldn't go away.
"It's like before," Ianto whispered. He brushed a knuckle down Jack's face. "He'll come back."
Mute, Owen could only nod.
"No. He won't."
Ianto lifted his heavy head up towards Saxon. The insane Time Lord stared at Jack as if seeing him for the first time. Saxon blinked and tiredly, he smiled. It looked more like a failed attempt to smirk though.
"Apparently he can be fixed. He's dead."
Ianto felt numb all of the sudden. "What?" Ianto croaked. He heard Tosh behind him sob, heard Martha gasp, felt Owen settle a hand on his right shoulder, but it wasn't real because they misunderstood. Jack always came back. Always. He…he…
Saxon's triumph shone dully in his eyes and his smile was faint and ancient.
"It looks like he didn't have forever after all."
"Jack," Owen murmured and his grip on Ianto's shoulder tightened.
No, no, they were wrong. All wrong. Ianto stared at Jack. His insides churned. He felt dizzy, distant and wondered if he wasn't really still on the ground, dying because surely it was better than this…
"No," Ianto whispered. He pulled Jack closer and buried his face on Jack's throat. "No, no, no, no…"
"He chose you. A human. A brief speck of the universe." Saxon staggered back a step. He laughed once. Then twice. Suddenly, he wouldn't stop.
"Master, stop this." The Doctor's rough voice halted the laughter. Ianto ignored him, ignored everyone as he waited for Jack's skin to warm and pulse with life again.
"Master," the Doctor tried again, "this madness, this has to stop. The drumming—"
"Is gone," Saxon interrupted. His voice shrank, as untethered as Ianto felt.
"The drumming…it's gone." Saxon stood inches above Ianto, his shadow cast over him. Ianto looked up blearily at the lost look.
Saxon glanced back to the Doctor.
"What do I do now?"
Ianto didn't care to hear the answer. He curled over Jack and breathed against Jack's skin in hopes Jack would find some way to absorb Ianto's life into his body.
"Step away."
Ianto heard Owen spit out, "Piss off!" before he felt a jab on the top of his head. Ianto looked up and found himself staring at Saxon's screwdriver at point-blank range.
"Step. Away." Saxon's eyes were dark, his mouth set and grim.
"No," Ianto snarled and he hugged Jack closer.
"Release him and move away or your friends will bury you without a face."
"Master!" the Doctor snarled.
"Do not test the velocity of my men's bullets, Doctor." There were three clicks in succession above them. Tish Jones could be heard protesting.
The screwdriver dug into the flesh on Ianto's forehead.
"Ianto," Owen urged him. "Come on, mate. Jack wouldn't want you to do this for him."
Ianto stared hard up at Saxon. He shook under Owen's urgent hands but he didn't release Jack.
"No."
There was an odd glint in Saxon's eyes that almost looked like approval. The screwdriver pressed deeper and Ianto felt something warm trickle down his face. It tasted coppery.
"Ianto," Gwen pleaded in the back. Tosh did the same but it was another voice that made him look away from Saxon.
"Ianto Jones."
With difficulty, Ianto turned and looked at the Doctor standing to his left on the other side of the table. The Doctor's eyes were nearly colorless with grief.
"Let him go."
It echoed in his head as well as hung in the air. Ianto turned back to Jack and numbly let Owen pull him away. He took care to settle Jack on the floor. When he folded Jack's arms on his chest, Tosh choked out a sob.
Ianto staggered back a few steps but he dug his heels in when Owen tried to pull him back further. Gwen hugged his left arm and Tosh settled her hands on his back and it felt like they were the only things holding him up.
Saxon bent down on one knee, his screwdriver held loosely in his right hand. He stared at Jack, ignoring the rifles cocked when anyone tried to step forward.
"I don't understand," Saxon told Jack. He frowned to himself. "You would have waited for your Doctor forever, you have forever and yet you chose someone else."
Ianto choked when Saxon stroked Jack's face with the screwdriver in his hand. Gwen and Owen's grip on his arms jerked him back when Ianto strained forward.
"You really never heard the drumming, did you?" Saxon murmured to Jack. "You never heard it like I had." His mouth twisted before he lowered his head.
"I have something of yours," Ianto thought he heard Saxon whisper before the Time Lord sealed his mouth over Jack's.
There was a stunned air that petrified everyone as Saxon kissed Jack. Light blue vapors floated in faint wisps out of Saxon and disappeared around Jack. Even Saxon's men on the upper deck seemed uncertain how to respond.
Ianto stood there, his breathing ragged, his eyes glued to Jack's face. Saxon stroked Jack's face with the screwdriver he held then his other hand moved to caress Jack's cheek.
A hard knot that had been slowly tightening inside him suddenly snapped.
"Don't touch him!"
Ianto wrenched free from Gwen and Owen and before they could stop him, Ianto charged into Saxon.
Saxon's air rushed out and the screwdriver spun away when Ianto tackled him but the Time Lord didn't fight back when Ianto swung fist after fist. Perhaps Saxon merely was too surprised to react. It didn't matter.
"Don't touch him! Don't touch him!"
Ianto was screaming/sobbing, whichever it was that spilled ruthlessly out of his mouth and fueled his fists, as he swung at the sneer that had haunted Jack well before London. He heard shouting above him, felt hands try to grab him, but Ianto threw an elbow or his head back at anyone foolish enough to stop him. He shook them off, ignored the explosion of activity behind him as he kept trying to hit and hit and—
"All right, all right!"
Ianto roared wordlessly as he felt arms slip under his and yank him off. Arms like iron dragged him off Saxon.
"Ianto!"
Owen's face was inches from his, his left palm flat on Ianto's heaving chest.
"It's okay, lad," Martha's father rumbled in his ear. Arms loosened around his chest. "We got him."
Ianto stared blankly at Gwen and Tish pointing rifles at Saxon's men, some of the UNIT guards forced to work under Saxon were holding Lucy Saxon back. Saxon, with his discolored welts and cut lip, staggered up to his feet and glowered at him. Ianto's mind numbly calculated that there was no one left to fight but for the life of him, Ianto couldn't remember why that was important.
But then, his vision cleared to the image of Martha standing behind Owen with a wet face.
"Let me go," Ianto croaked.
Owen studied Ianto for a long moment before he nodded to Mr. Jones.
Ianto stumbled a step when he was released but he cringed when Owen tried to catch him. Ianto waved his hands helplessly at them, warding them back, as he staggered and tripped until he dropped to his knees by Jack.
Tosh's shaking hands settled on his shoulders.
"No, come here, Ianto," Tosh whispered, her voice thick with tears.
Ianto shook his head. He slipped his hands underneath Jack and cradled him to his chest. Ianto huddled closer when he felt how cold Jack was.
"He'll come back," Ianto insisted, "He will." Ianto stared at Tosh and wished he hadn't when he saw Tosh's tears running unchecked down her face. Did they forget?
"Jack will come back," Ianto tried to assure her, but Tosh's lower lip trembled. "I can feel it. He will. He did before. Don't you remember?"
"Ianto," Tosh choked. She dropped to her knees beside him. "Ianto. Sweetheart. Jack's gone."
With a gasp, Jack's body jerked in Ianto's arms. Tosh squeaked and fell back on her rear.
"Christ, that never gets old," Owen swore as he dropped to his knees next to Ianto. He set down his gun and took Jack's wrist. He grinned at Ianto and gave him a light punch in the arm.
Ianto didn't reply. He was too busy murmuring, "You're all right, you're fine" into Jack's ear.
After a few more coughs and groans, Jack settled. He blinked up at Ianto, squinting. His head rolled to rest against Ianto's shoulder. Jack took careful breaths before his jaw worked, his mouth moving.
"Ouch?" Jack rasped.
A strangely garbled noise came out of Ianto. Owen repeatedly thumped him on the back and Jack closed his eyes briefly and sighed.
Owen carefully lowered Jack's left wrist. He grinned crookedly at Ianto.
"Told you," Ianto muttered. He bent his head over Jack.
"What do we do with this one?" Owen growled. He nodded jerkily towards the back. Owen slapped his hands on his knees and straightened up. "Tosh, toss me some cuffs, will you?"
Ianto tensed when he heard Saxon snarl at Owen when the medic twisted his arms around.
"Sorry. Too tight?" Owen drawled as he snapped the cuffs on Saxon. He looked over at everyone.
"Well?"
Martha's father stepped forward. "We kill him," he growled.
"We execute him," Tish hissed from the upper deck.
"Perhaps UNIT would like a word with him," Tosh said low.
The Doctor shook his head. He held up his hands. "No, that's not the solution."
"Oh, I think so."
Everyone turned towards Martha's mother. Francine Jones held one of their guns that were set down when they had originally been surrendered.
"All those…things, they still happened because of him." Francine's lower lip quivered. "I saw them."
Saxon scoffed and merely turned his head. He stared at Ianto with a smirk, his eyes murky and dark.
"Francine, you're better than him." The Doctor approached her from the side.
"Of course she is," Saxon sneered. Owen made a face and pushed him away a step.
Ianto watched the gun waver. He almost wished she pulled the trigger but the haunted and scared look on her face made him regret thinking that. He stared as the Doctor reached for her hand and lowered her arms. Quietly, he tugged the gun out of her loose grasp before Martha came over and enveloped her mother in a fierce embrace.
Saxon scowled at the pair before he cast his attention towards the Doctor again.
"The only Time Lord left in existence," Saxon drawled. He narrowed his eyes and sneered.
The Doctor frowned to himself. "Yes. You're my responsibility from now on."
"How magnanimous of you," Saxon spat out. "So you're just gonna keep me in your TARDIS?"
The Doctor's frown deepened. He studied Saxon, his head cocked. "The only safe place is the TARDIS." The Doctor folded his arms in front of him. "But you already knew that. That's what happened before, wasn't it? You'd already plan—"
A gunshot rang out. Ianto was startled to see Owen's gun in Jack's hand.
Saxon staggered back. He stared at Jack then at the red blossoming on his chest.
"Poetic," Saxon rasped. He smiled.
"Jack!" The Doctor spun around, his mouth opened in shock.
Jack never flinched at the wide eyes on him. His hand shook and dropped as soon as Owen took back the gun.
"You can't trust him," Jack whispered. He matched the Doctor's gaze unflinching.
"No!"
Lucy Saxon wrenched free from the guards and practically threw herself to catch Saxon.
"No, no, it was supposed to be me. It was supposed to be me," Lucy cried as she wrapped her arms around her husband, but unable to hold on, she dropped to the floor clutching Saxon.
The Doctor crouched down by the pair. Lucy beat a fist at the Doctor, pushing him away until Saxon stopped her.
"It's all right, my dear Lucy. It's all right," Saxon breathed as he touched Lucy's face. "I am sorry, my dear…Loyal to the end…"
"I'm suppose to—"
"P-perhaps it's better this way…for you…Dying in your arms…"
"You're not dying," the Doctor said, his voice rough and unsteady, "don't be stupid. It's only a bullet. Just regenerate."
Saxon chuckled and muttered something Ianto couldn't hear.
"One little bullet." The Doctor was pleading now. "Come on."
Lucy wailed at whatever Saxon said. The Doctor hunched closer to Saxon.
"Regenerate," the Doctor told him. His words stuttered. He sounded almost frightened. "Just regenerate. Please! Please! Just regenerate! Come on!"
Jack stirred uneasily against Ianto. He stared at the trio, his expression unreadable.
"You've got to. Come on. It can't end like this!"
Saxon stared out the gap made between Lucy and the Doctor. Ianto grimaced and tightened his hold on Jack as if it was enough to ward off the unnerving intensity.
"Remember the Axons? And the Daleks? We're the only two left, there's no one else. Regenerate!"
Saxon tore his gaze away from them and looked up at the Doctor then at Lucy.
"The drumming…" His smile was oddly childlike as his eyes fluttered close. "It's back." His hand shook as he grasped the Doctor's jacket. Saxon pulled at it, bringing the Doctor nose to nose with him.
"The drumming's back," Saxon hissed as if he was forcing all his air out. His face then went slack, his eyes dulled and Saxon's head fell back against Lucy's chest. As Lucy keened, doubled over her Master, Saxon's hand dropped from the Doctor's jacket. The Doctor dropped his head and his shoulders shook.
Jack said nothing and turned his face away.
Francine tightened her grip on Martha's sleeve, unwilling to let go when the Doctor slouched over the Master and grieved for him like he was the Doctor's child. She didn't understand one bit.
Out of the corner of her right eye, Francine spied Jack Harkness getting up with the same energy and grace of a newborn colt. He gestured to the UNIT guards, who appeared to be more than happy to leave the room with new instructions from someone other than the Master.
"Mum." Martha looked at Francine with a solemn expression. Francine found herself letting go. She watched as Martha walked over to the Doctor, placed her hands on his shoulders and said something in his ear. The Doctor nodded slowly; his movements reminded Francine of when he was an old man sleeping under the stairs. With Martha's hand on his elbow, the Doctor rose to his feet.
"Get the body to some place secure. Gather as many guys as you can, find the rest of his men on this ship." Jack never looked at Saxon while he gave the UNIT guards their instructions. "Then call your command. Tell them the one responsible for Winters' death has been…dealt with."
Yes, Francine thought as she threw an arm over Tish, who came running over to hug her and Clive. She tucked Tish under her chin and glared at the body crumpled by the Doctor's feet. Yes, take him away, Francine thought fiercely as she hugged Tish.
Francine made a face when the guards went over to the body. Saxon looked like an ordinary human now and it bothered her to see him that way: ordinary. Dead, the Master had shrunk and was now just a dead man.
Lucy shrieked when the guards pried the body away from her. Eyes stark, her face as white as a sheet, she flew at Jack and collided into him with a force that made him stagger back a step. He held up his hands, halting everyone in their tracks.
"Filthy beast! You didn't deserve him!" Jack did nothing. He stood there, looking at Lucy like she was a stray cat in the rain. It was pathetic to watch Lucy Saxon beat his chest with her small, white fists.
"Dirty, disgusting animal not fit to carry our Master's—"
Jack's face darkened and his hand swung before anyone could stop him. He grabbed her wrists with a single fist and yanked her away from him. He released her almost immediately as if burned.
"It's over. He's dead," Jack snarled at her face. "Be grateful!"
Lucy stared at Jack with huge eyes. Then her face twisted and it looked like she was going to burst into tears, but instead, with a shrill cry, her hands curled into claws and she lunged at Jack.
The young man who was with Jack—possibly the Ianto Jones Tish said Jack mentioned often—and Tosh leaped in with another man and pulled Lucy back. It took a few tries and Jack was left doubled over, both hands over his left eye, blood dripping to the floor.
Guards came running through the door and Francine wished she could feel reassured at the sight of those red-capped troopers now on their side again. Francine stared at the UNIT soldiers as Ianto and Tosh dragged Lucy Saxon out of the bridge. Francine could still hear her, raging with the fury of a banshee even after the doors closed behind her.
One of Jack's teammates, a grim-mouthed looking Owen Harper, was arguing with Jack, trying to get a better look at Jack's face. Jack shrugged him off and gestured towards the Doctor and Martha with a stained hand. With a scowl, Owen gave Jack a pointed look before heading over to Martha instead.
"Everyone always wants a piece of me, but I’m tired of giving at the moment," Jack muttered as he stumbled away from Owen. He bumped into Francine and she doubted it was because of his eye. He kept one hand clamped over it.
"Jack." Francine pretended to frown at Jack. Jack grinned back sheepishly and it felt good to be exasperated over something this trivial. Jack tottered and Francine grabbed his arm in a flash. He righted himself before anyone noticed. She hid her surprise when she found herself only up to his shoulder. She'd forgotten how tall Jack was.
Jack hissed when he lowered his hand finally and stared at the blood on his palm. He grimaced when Francine tried to turn his head towards her.
"Ow," Jack whined half-heartedly.
"You're worse than my girls," Francine scolded as she tilted back his chin. His eye looked bloodshot, but otherwise fine. She grimaced at the puffy redness on the left side of his face. Three angry scratches marred his jaw.
"Now that this is over," Jack quipped as he tolerated Francine probing the swelling under his eye, "what say you and me run away to Bora Bora together?"
"Behave." Francine couldn't help but smirk as she swatted his hand before it could touch his face. "I'm older than you, Jack."
Jack scoffed for some reason but said nothing. He stared at the double doors.
"How are you, love?" Francine asked gently. His shirt hung over his body, untucked and bloody. It was a far cry from when she was sent down to clean him off, but Francine still didn't like how cool his face felt before or how listless his eyes were.
"Do you want to sit down, Jack?" Francine prodded. She glanced over to Clive. He nodded and inched closer just in case.
Jack made an odd sound and his face contorted. "I'm fine," he muttered, his eyes still on the doors. "UNIT will be here any minute. The Doc…I need to check on the TARDIS…I have to call…call…" Jack frowned to himself. "Who do I have to call?"
"Never mind that." Francine tugged at Jack's elbow. It worried her how Jack looked to be leaning on nothing in particular. "Why don't you sit here?" Francine gestured at a chair Clive pulled over by his leg.
Jack looked down at himself, at the bridge around him. His hands gestured at nothing in particular in the air. "There are things I…I need to do…"
"I think you've done enough."
Jack glanced over his shoulder at the Doctor. The Doctor stood there, his hands deep in his pockets, his face blank.
Jack dropped his eyes and turned back towards the doors.
The doors opened and Francine bit back a smile when the young man from before steered right for Jack. His eyes, like the color of the ocean, were glued to Jack as he veered around strewn furniture easily to reach Jack. Tosh hurried in after him, panting as if she had been running.
"Jack?" Ianto gasped as soon as he was within reach to grab Jack's sleeve.
Jack gestured towards his own face wordlessly and Ianto visibly relaxed.
"Good Lord," Francine muttered to herself when Jack turned around and his eye was perfectly fine now, his face back to the ashen pallor of before.
"I heal fast, too. No scars," Jack explained woodenly as he wiped his face clean of blood with his sleeve.
So you think, Francine thought but she said nothing. She smiled at Tosh who flew right into her open arms.
"Are you hurt?" Tosh demanded as she pulled back to examine Francine. "Lord, when that guard took you, I thought for sure…" Whatever Tosh saw on Francine's face satisfied her. She turned around to Jack.
"You should have seen her, Jack," Tosh said, her hands gesturing wildly. She mimicked Francine swinging her tray. "I thought for sure she killed that man—"
"Mum?" Martha and Tish both squawked. Martha, having overheard Tosh, spun around with her mouth open.
Francine rolled her eyes. "I didn't hit that boy too hard. I—oh, by the way, he's in the dirty linens room on level two. Someone might want to get him out before the smell kills him."
Tosh snickered.
"Sounds like you two made a lethal team," Jack said. He smiled faintly.
"Your backhand and Tosh's brains," Ianto added. He chuckled but the sound stuttered as if he'd forgotten how to make it.
"Ah yes." The Doctor spoke up, his voice hoarse with disuse. "That reminds me. Brilliant, Toshiko Sato. Your device worked beautifully."
Tosh blushed before she swiveled towards the Doctor. The Doctor blinked at her shining face.
"It was an incredible machine! The blueprints were perfect! Oh, I didn't have the equipment here or I could have made it more stable. Maybe a laser drill for the circuits? Gold wiring? Think of what we can do with it!"
Jack fidgeted his feet. "Uh, Tosh?"
Francine raised an eyebrow when Tosh never noticed. It was like her girls during Christmas.
"The frequency can certainly be modified to a broader range. Maybe to a two hundred hertz scale? Do you think it can be on a recycling broadband? Or maybe…"
Now Martha was squirming. She gave Jack an uneasy look. "Tosh?"
Oh, but Tosh couldn't be stopped. Her face lit up as her enthusiasm grew. "IR controls! Oh, this could simplify—Doctor?"
The Doctor had walked up to Tosh during her fast chatter. He stood there, smiling broadly like the day Francine had met him. It made her hackles rise to see that grin. Francine wondered if this was the same grin that charmed her Martha into leaving her family, her life for adventure.
"Ah, Toshiko Sato," the Doctor sighed. He dropped his hands on both sides of her shoulders. "The device, no, you are fantastic."
From here, Francine could see Tosh's ears pink.
"T-thank you," Tosh stammered. "But really, I—mmpf!"
Before Tosh could say anything more, the Doctor lowered his head and kissed Tosh fully on the mouth. Tosh squeaked. Jack and Martha collectively groaned and someone yelped, "Oi!" from somewhere in the back.
It was long enough that Francine was about to walk over and give the Doctor a good thrashing when they finally parted. The Doctor stepped back and looked at Tosh, waiting.
Tosh, her blush now on her face and neck, blinked. She touched her lips; she blinked again.
Then her eyes widened.
"Son of a bitch!" she blurted and before anyone could react, she kicked the Doctor right in the shins. Hard. The Doctor yipped and hopped on his good foot. Martha merely shook her head.
"I'm not a Time Lord and I saw that coming," Martha muttered under her breath.
"Tosh?" Ianto squeezed into the group and touched Tosh's arm briefly. "What is it?"
"It's gone! The technology!" Tosh exclaimed. "All of it!" Tosh looked torn between bursting into tears and being thoroughly pissed. She chose the latter. She glowered at the Doctor.
"It's a little premature for humanity to have this technology," the Doctor said as he edged back, a little behind Martha. He stared warily at Tosh's feet. "This century isn't ready for it."
Tosh stared at the Doctor and it looked like she was going to kick him again when she spun around and stomped away.
"Tosh?" Ianto called out, his brow knitted together. "Where are you going?"
"To get normal clothes!" Tosh shouted back. Her apron was tossed over her shoulder and two guards scurried out of her way as she stalked past. She didn't stop as she stormed through the doors, her friend Gwen at her heels.
Everyone looked back at the Doctor, who stared back perplexed.
"What?"
Whatever anyone was going to say, was forgotten when Jack, without another word, simply dropped to the floor before anyone could catch him.
Fire raced up from his lower back as fingers dug into his flesh…
With a strangled cry, Jack started. He flailed.
Hands touched him, voices soothed. Jack swung his fists wildly until the touch stroking his head finally registered as something familiar.
"What?" Jack coughed. He looked up blearily to find Ianto sitting on the edge of whatever bed Jack was on. The give of the mattress and the blankets tangled around his torso unsettled him.
"You're in the TARDIS," Ianto said, his voice quiet and as still as a lake at night. "We brought you back to the TARDIS."
Jack turned his head left and right, but the recognizable surroundings of his old room only made his heart hammer faster.
"The others?" Jack asked as he took deep breaths to slow the pounding in his chest. "Owen? Tosh? Gwen?" Jack struggled up on his elbows. "The D-doctor. Mart—"
A hand on his shoulder stopped him.
"Everyone's fine. Owen and the others went with UNIT to search the ship for the rest of Saxon's men. Martha's with her family." Ianto paused. "The Doctor. He's…he's…with the body."
Jack stared at Ianto. The words slowly filtered in and suddenly, Jack felt tired, depleted. Jack sagged and nearly pitched sideways off the bed but Ianto's arm shot out and caught him. Jack held up a hand holding Ianto back as he slumped against the headboard.
"How long was I out?" Jack croaked. He was bothered that his hands shook when he brought them up to scrub his face."
"A few hours," Ianto calculated. He twisted around and turning back, he held a tall glass in his hand. "Thought it might be better to let you to rest in here than out…there."
Jack's throat worked and he tried not to gulp as he accepted the glass of water. He drank, savored the crisp feel of water slipping a cool trail down his throat. He used the moment to gather priorities around him like a fence. Quickly as he drained the glass, Jack rearranged everything in his head.
"Do we have confirmation that everything reversed down there?" Jack wheezed.
The knowing eyes were hard to look at and Ianto must have realized because he cleared his throat and ducked his head. Ianto nodded.
"People are panicking at the assassination on the telly, but that's it. UNIT is taking charge now and Owen was more than happy to let them muddle through this mess." Ianto smiled tightly. "A Brigadier general just came up on the Valiant and the first thing he asked was 'where the bloody hell is that ruddy Doctor?'"
Jack smiled faintly. "The Doctor is known to bring trouble with him." He stared into his empty glass. "So everything on Earth…"
"No one remembers the Toclafane or the end of the world." Ianto sounded awed. He swiped his tongue across his lower lip. "Everything, it's been a year for us, but in reality, it's only been minutes for them."
"That year never happened for them," Jack said. He swallowed. "The year that never was." Jack choked as he tried to laugh. "Welcome to time travel."
Ianto's eyes were huge when he stared at Jack. He kept ironing out a piece of the blanket over Jack with a palm.
"I…I called my family and they…they were sitting around at home watching the telly." Ianto swallowed. "The whole time, they were all home when the Toclafane…"
"They're all right now," Jack reminded Ianto. "Your family's still watching the telly, probably making all kinds of conspiracy theories with the rest of the world."
Ianto tried to smile but it crumbled quickly.
"Before…Rhys called Gwen and God, the look on Gwen's face, Jack, when that mobile rang. Owen and I knew she'd kept that thing charged in her pocket, but when it rang…You should have seen it. And Tosh, she was able to reach her family. They're all okay. Alive. Jack, it's…" Ianto took a deep breath. Ianto stared at his hands worrying a corner of the blanket. He pulled his hands away.
"Sorry. S-sorry, I'm just prattling on like…" Ianto ran a hand through his hair. "Everyone's acting like it's only been minutes. Minutes. Not an entire year! I-I…I'm almost afraid to believe it."
Jack wished he could feel what Ianto was feeling right now but there was a hollow sensation in his chest that wouldn't go away. "All those deaths. Everything that had happened. Everything's been erased."
"Not everything." Ianto looked at Jack. Then, a shadow flitted across his face and Ianto averted his gaze. He sighed.
"Sorry," Ianto whispered.
Jack curled both hands around the empty glass. "It's over," Jack said dully. "I'm sorry you have to remember."
"I'm sorry you have to remember, too," Ianto said quietly.
The glass cracked in Jack's grasp and dug into his palms.
Ianto swore. "Here. Let me get a bin. Wait, careful, just toss it here…"
Jack stared at his lap and the pinkish dots swirling in the spilled water before the blanket over his legs greedily soaked it up. Jack's throat worked.
"I need a shower," Jack croaked.
"Do you…" Ianto lowered his eyes. "I'll wait out here."
Jack nodded. He got to his feet shakily and tried not to run as he stumbled towards the washing area in the back.
He thought for sure when he stood in front of Ianto that it was the end.
Jack stood in the small stall and stared at the wall as water came down from above like rain. It didn't matter how long he stood there, the water couldn't get rid of the suffocating gritty skin that wrapped tight around his bones. Jack settled one hand on the wall, one hand on his chest. The hum that usually pulsed under his palms was faint. The one in his chest was strong.
The absurdity of it made Jack laugh, but it died quickly because it took too much energy.
The wall was cool and slick when Jack rested his head on the wall. The soap he had scrubbed into his skin until his body felt raw had trickled down his back. He stopped when the suds slithered down over his buttocks and felt too much like something else.
Jack breathed through his nose, held the air before exhaling slowly and he tried to imagine his muscles relaxing one at a time. It was a routine he'd used all year—God, had it only been a year?
Inhale. Exhale. The muscles on his shoulders flexed then relaxed. It felt like chains were still pulling his limbs back. Jack tried to imagine the tendons behind his blades, around the joints that had popped from hanging on chains when Jack was too tired to stand.
Inhale. Exhale. Jack then arched his back to stretch the cord of muscles that followed the profile of his spine, the ones that always tore first under the whips. He tensed then released.
Inhale. Ex—
Jack choked as a sharp slicing blow cut across the back of his legs, fire licked greedily around his middle then the whine of a screwdriver as it burned a white hot line over his sto—
Nononononostopstop…
"Jack? Jack!"
Cold air rushed in when the stall door opened and Jack was too caught up in shadowy agony to realize. Hands—no, leave me alone, damn it—curled around his shoulders and turned him around until his back was to the wall now. No, he didn't want to see his face when—
"Jack! Look at me! Come on! Look at me…"
His bare shoulders slapped against the wet wall for the third time before Jack finally exhaled. His lungs burned from the strain and he could barely see through the steam that misted from the hot shower and collided with the cool air from outside.
Ianto, soaked through in his t-shirt and jeans, stood inside the shower with him. His shoes squished when he shifted his weight.
"Where are you?" Ianto asked, his voice higher than Jack ever heard it before. His hands felt cold on Jack's face. Ianto held his head with both hands, forcing Jack to look at him. "Jack, quickly, where are you right now?"
"TARDIS," Jack groaned although it took a second to find the answer. He would have slid down the wall but Ianto's grip on his biceps stopped his descent.
Fingers relaxed a little and Ianto acted reluctant when he dropped his hands.
"Okay," Ianto said, his voice trembling a little. "I-I heard…well…here…I'll let you take your shower."
Jack's arm shot out and he grabbed a fist of wet cotton on Ianto's back just as he started to leave. Ianto stopped short and turned to face him.
"Don't," Jack croaked. "Don't go." He released his hold and moved to grasp a handful of the shirt's front instead.
Water dribbled down Ianto's face, streams of water running down like tears from hair plastered to his skull, wet brushstrokes of cotton defined the contours of his torso and the sinewy cords of strength borne from too much battle and not enough food to eat.
Jack stared at Ianto and tried to get his mouth working again, but he could only inhale, exhale.
"I can step outside," Ianto said quietly after a period of hesitation. "It'll be all right."
The understanding and the words were too much to hear.
"Don't talk," Jack rasped. "Just…don't go."
Ianto nodded and, despite how uncomfortable he must be feeling, huddled closer to Jack under the unrelenting shower, his hands loose and light over Jack's arms.
Jack pulled harder at the sodden shirt and watched the neckline stretch under the water's weight and expose Ianto's throat and the hollow dip under his Adam's apple. He raised his other hand and reached for Ianto's jaw but found his arm wouldn't obey and landed on Ianto's shoulder instead.
Blue eyes deep and quiet stared at Jack's face, never straying as Jack released Ianto's shirt and moved his hand up to his other shoulder.
The water was hot. Jack could sense the sweat instead of the shower beading across his forehead. He cupped Ianto's jaw, his thumb rubbing under Ianto's eye. Jack wished the water he wiped clean under Ianto's eye were tears and the simple gesture he just did had fixed everything.
Both hands framing Ianto's face now, Jack felt his chest heave as he leaned in. Ianto never moved. His hands stayed feather-light on Jack's arms.
It was close enough that Jack could see the tears collected at the corners of Ianto's eyes. He paused at the sight of himself reflected in the solemn eyes that guided him every night of every day. Jack was unrecognizable in them and something shriveled inside him.
Ianto closed his eyes, sealing Jack's image away.
Jack exhaled on Ianto's face, his mouth parted and before he changed his mind, Jack lowered his mouth.
Lips parted and accepted him without hesitation. Moist, warm, soft yet unyielding, Ianto's mouth felt both familiar and alien to Jack. The roughness of stubble under Jack's palm was unlike the slick, shaven jaw that had scraped against him. The soaked fabric felt different to the wool that rubbed against him, fine wool that was both smooth and coarse. The hands on his arms were almost limp, never demanding as Jack moved his arms to pull Ianto to his chest.
Tentative taste sharpened to nips and Jack dove into Ianto's mouth with a bruising kiss as his hands curled and clawed. He wasn't sure if he wanted to pull Ianto close or push him away.
Each blow, each burn, Jack tried to exorcise by devouring just a little more of what Ianto offered. He made a sound when a ghostly touch soiled his skin, he shuddered when a knife nicked deep into bone. Frantic, mind too full, too loud to hold one thought longer than a blink, Jack clutched Ianto to him like a lifesaver.
It was the thick threaded texture of denim that brushed against his own soft genitals that finally made the red haze clear and Jack became very aware of how still and silent Ianto was. Jack meant to let go but he ended up pushing Ianto back harder than he should have and the momentum sent Jack himself crashing back into the wall.
Jack stared at the swollen lower lip, the tiny trickle of blood at the corner of Ianto's mouth. Ianto staggered back a step but he never moved to wipe his mouth.
Jack couldn't stand anymore and his knees buckled.
"Sorry," Jack gasped. "I'm…God, I'm sorry."
In the tight space, it took Ianto only a step forward for him to slip his arms under Jack's, stopping his descent.
"It's all right," Ianto said as he hauled Jack up. "It's fine."
No it wasn't and Jack wanted to punch Ianto for saying that it was. His hand shook though, wouldn't bunch and then the vibrations traveled up his body and Jack couldn't speak anymore.
Ianto simply pulled Jack to him and held him.
They stood under the shower, no words between them. Jack's arms were limp against his sides; his body shook as if the water crashing over them was ice cold. Ianto said nothing. He didn't even say it was okay. His arms just went around Jack, careful not to stand too close, his head settled gingerly on the crook of Jack's right shoulder.
The shaking finally stopped but Ianto didn't let go. Jack couldn't find the strength to step back like he should and simply rested his heavy head on top of Ianto's.
"It's over," Jack rasped. "All of it. It's over."
Ianto just nodded.
Jack gulped and clenched his jaw.
Ianto's hands moved to cup the back of his neck.
Jack pulled back enough to see Ianto. He stared at the eyes so vivid and old, it was like looking at the birth of a universe with all the sparkle and brightness of new stars. The reflection he saw in Ianto's gaze started to look a little more familiar, less unsettling.
Hands trembled as they moved up to cradle the back of Ianto's head. Ianto stared up at him, his expression revealing none of the revulsion Jack felt curdling inside himself, and his face was open and waiting.
Jack's hands steadied. He held Ianto's face and thought of a time when the impossible had happened and Ianto held him within his mind while Saxon had raged and tore his body to shreds. Jack dipped his head again and this time, Ianto tilted his head up to follow.
The kiss this time tasted more of salt, of the water from the shower, of the air he breathed. Ianto tasted like Ianto now: quiet yet firm, warm and embracing like a soft blanket wrapped around Jack's body and mind.
Water sluiced when Jack turned up his hand to curve around the back of Ianto's skull. Ianto's fingers skimmed over Jack like piano keys. His fingers were callused but always full of grace. They rubbed circles on Jack's back. He kept them between Jack's shoulders after wandering lower made Jack whimper.
The curve of Ianto's spine arched into Jack's hand when Jack slipped a hand under Ianto's damp shirt. Ianto sighed when Jack did nothing more than stroke the slick skin discovered under the wet cotton.
Carefully, Jack rolled the soaked shirt up Ianto's torso like peeling paper off an artifact. One hand bunching the shirt higher, Jack's other hand tentatively touched flesh that flexed and breathed under his touch.
Ianto said nothing as the shirt rolled over his head but he did smile ruefully when Jack rubbed a palm over the unruly spikes of hair to smooth them down.
There was a moment when his breath hitched though seeing pink water rippling down Ianto's face and torso, pink water that spun around the drain below them.
"Your blood."
Ianto's voice was a surprise and Ianto kept his hands on Jack's back when Jack started.
"It's your blood," Ianto whispered. "I'm fine."
Jack nodded. The taste of bile still lingered in his mouth when he remembered how the Master's eyes flicked over to Ianto even as his body turned towards the Doctor.
"Alive," Jack said, hushed, afraid to say it out loud and curse them both. He said it instead with his fingers writing it in the water over Ianto's skin, in every language he could think of. Jack gathered the soap again from the alcove and scrubbed rich lather over Ianto's neck and torso; every part that had blood.
Jack could see Ianto's eyes darkening, a hunger that was unfulfilled for both of them for so long, but all Jack could feel was cold, numb, needles pricking deeper and deeper into him. But he wasn't going to deny the murky cloud in Ianto's eyes. He moved his hands to Ianto's jeans. Jack worked free the top button, peeled the denim down Ianto's hips before he realized Ianto had been calling him.
"It's okay," Ianto was saying over and over, "Jack, we don't have to do this."
It was only when Ianto nudged him to rest against the wall that Jack discovered he was shaking so bad, his fingers were tangled in the belt loops. Jack chuckled, laughed, maybe choked and his hands were batted away.
Ianto stepped out of the denim after kicking off his shoes and they plopped down in a corner. Ianto took a deep breath then took another step, close enough that Ianto's body heat warmed Jack's skin. He wrapped his arms around Jack again.
Jack closed his eyes briefly at the feel of damp, warm muscle breathing against him. His fingers pressed weakly at the wet skin he could feel. He kissed the top of Ianto's head, traced the contour of Ianto's right ear with a finger and pulled Ianto even closer.
The heated, velvety swell bumping against him made him tense at first but then Ianto shifted and it brushed against him, tickling along the junction of his hip and torso instead. The responding fever on his skin felt faintly familiar. Jack knew this once. Once, this erased the dreams and the cold darkness.
His hands swept up Ianto's back. Ianto stood feet apart and rubbed against Jack as his hands floated with airy caresses up Jack's arms.
"It's done," Jack rasped as he ground his hips into Ianto, "It's over." His voice shook. Jack massaged the firm body in his arms, slathered suds down Ianto's body. Jack followed the lather's journey with his fingers, pausing as they traveled to Ianto's groin, but he pushed aside whatever was chilling into ice inside and wrapped his hands around Ianto.
The small gasp nearly made Jack pull back but then Ianto wiggled closer to Jack, his hips jerking forward as he tried to thrust into Jack's loose fist. Slick, smelling of soap and sweat, Ianto moaned deep in his throat as he rested his forehead on Jack's chest.
The pace rocking against him, the heat of another's skin was something Jack remembered. Ianto's hand curled around Jack's cock was a memory Jack had thought at one point was just a dream. He matched Ianto's pace with slow, unsure snaps of his own hips and when they collided and crashed against each other, Jack bit his lower lip.
Hard silk poked at him, ground against his semi-aroused state. Jack thrust harder into Ianto's fist, desperate to match the stiff, throbbing heat against his hip, but Ianto would only loosen his fist, his other hand splayed on Jack's right hip to hold him back.
Eventually, Ianto's restraining hand dropped. He whimpered and murmured Jack's name over and over as they clung to each other, hips jerking against each other in a frantic, growing need to feel.
The whispers of memory that scored his body dropped away one by one. Jack smashed his mouth against Ianto's to smother the raw sound that wanted to come out of his throat. Ianto was no longer motionless, now a moving set of sensations of wet skin, fingers, and searching mouth.
Closer and closer Jack could feel something under his skin squirming to get out. His skin itched where Ianto didn't touch, his skin boiled in places where Ianto did.
The phantom chains on his wrists fell away.
The claws on his bones slackened.
The film that surrounded him dissolved.
Jack buried his face into Ianto's shoulder and with a shudder, he came into Ianto's hands and everything simply fell apart.
Conclusion 2/2
Additional Notes: Many thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
soullessminion for betaing this chapter. And trtmx for her magic trick that saved my sanity! LOL.
Pairing: Jack/OMC, Jack/?, Jack/Ianto eventually, het and slash
Rating: NC-17
Summary: He left Jack on the game station. Abandoned. But then…he came back…different. An AU look on what happens if things happened differently. Doctor Who 'verse with Torchwood later on.
Warnings: Please read each chapter's individual warnings. Some parts down the road may briefly mention non-con, abuse, and/or violence. Dark in the beginning. Please note there are some dark thoughts as my boys are broken…for now. Each chapter will be labeled for your convenience.
Author's Notes: Note that "the Year That Never Was" was suggested that it wasn't fun. I took it as a challenge to somehow still find a way to instill comfort in it. If it didn't work, I'm sorry. I suck. LOL.
Disclaimer: RTD and BBC owns them. I'm just borrowing them for a while.
Warning For This Chapter: strong language, dark, angsty, VIOLENCE, torture (mostly implied, all a matter of reader interpretation), sappy maudlin
Notes For This Chapter: Note there are events/dialogue here that was referenced in DW's "Last of the Time Lords"
Prologue + Ch , Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6, Ch 7, Ch 8, Ch 9, Ch 10, Ch 11, Ch 12, Ch 13, Ch 14, Ch 15, Ch 16, Ch 17, Ch 18, Ch 19, Ch 20, Ch 21, Ch 22, Ch 23, Ch 24, Ch 25, Ch 26, Ch 27, Ch 28, Ch 29, Ch 30, Ch 31, Ch 32, Ch 33, Ch 34, Ch 35, Ch 36 Ch 37, Ch 38, Ch 39, Ch 40 1/11, Ch 40 2/11, Ch 40 3/11, Ch 40 4/11, Ch 40 5/11, Ch 40 6/11, Ch 40 7/11, Ch 40 8/11, Ch 40 9/11, Ch 40 10/11
Master Fic List: here
Chapter 40 "The Last of the Time Lords"
Conclusion 1/2: "We execute him."
He was having trouble breathing.
Ianto stared at the ceiling, gasping. There was a weight on his chest that stopped him from drawing a breath.
Odd, he thought fuzzily, it had hurt a lot more last time.
There was shouting above him, bullets flying harmlessly in the air although how Ianto knew that he wasn't quite sure. All he knew for certain was that he couldn't breathe. No, that was an exaggeration; he could breathe. Sort of. It felt like something heavy was sitting on his chest.
"Ianto!"
Ianto thought Gwen sounded shocked but not as stunned as she was before. Getting shot must have gotten quite old for her.
Ianto could hear Owen yelling—always yelling, that Owen—and Tosh shouting with a ferocity Ianto hadn't expected from her. Then he heard another voice.
"Blimey," the Doctor wheezed, "you're heavy."
"Doctor!" Martha sounded sharp. "You all right?"
"I'm fine, I'm fine. He—Oh, hello! You must be Mr. Jones! We haven't actually met, well, properly, that is."
"Sorry about that, Doctor," a voice apologized, "didn't mean to be quite so rough. Let me help you up there."
Ianto frowned to himself. That wasn't Jack. Where was Jack?
"He didn't choose you."
No, Ianto thought and the heaviness in his chest grew, Jack didn't.
Hands slipped under his head and Ianto groaned when the fingers felt a newly discovered lump on the back of his skull.
Owen's pinched face blocked the ceiling. "Think you can get up, mate?"
Can't. Shot, Ianto thought peevishly.
"No, you weren't, but your head took quite a knocking."
Ianto blinked up at Owen. Had he spoken out loud?
Hands moved under his shoulders and tugged. Ianto struggled to sit up and the weight on his chest shifted to his legs. Owen swore and suddenly he was gone from view.
The room tilted for a second. Ianto took slow breaths before everything cleared and the nausea passed. He looked down automatically and something in his throat squeezed.
"Jack," Ianto croaked.
Slumped over his legs, a fresh bloody stain on his shirt, Jack lay gray and unmoving over Ianto's thighs.
"I…How…" Ianto batted away Owen's hands as he pulled Jack to him. He swept his hands over Jack's torso. The wet heat of the fresh wound directly over Jack's heart made Ianto gag. "I thought…"
"He chose you."
The flat accusation made Ianto look up. Saxon stood in front of him, his screwdriver in his hand and dangling uselessly by his side. Saxon looked at him, no, at Jack with a mixture of confusion and weariness.
Limp, cooling, Jack settled against Ianto's chest. Ianto held him close but shivered at the icy skin he could feel through his shirt. It reminded him too much of Abbadon.
"He'll come back," Ianto whispered when he saw Owen staring at him. Ianto offered a smile but the raw—Ianto couldn't describe it—something on Owen's face wouldn't go away.
"It's like before," Ianto whispered. He brushed a knuckle down Jack's face. "He'll come back."
Mute, Owen could only nod.
"No. He won't."
Ianto lifted his heavy head up towards Saxon. The insane Time Lord stared at Jack as if seeing him for the first time. Saxon blinked and tiredly, he smiled. It looked more like a failed attempt to smirk though.
"Apparently he can be fixed. He's dead."
Ianto felt numb all of the sudden. "What?" Ianto croaked. He heard Tosh behind him sob, heard Martha gasp, felt Owen settle a hand on his right shoulder, but it wasn't real because they misunderstood. Jack always came back. Always. He…he…
Saxon's triumph shone dully in his eyes and his smile was faint and ancient.
"It looks like he didn't have forever after all."
"Jack," Owen murmured and his grip on Ianto's shoulder tightened.
No, no, they were wrong. All wrong. Ianto stared at Jack. His insides churned. He felt dizzy, distant and wondered if he wasn't really still on the ground, dying because surely it was better than this…
"No," Ianto whispered. He pulled Jack closer and buried his face on Jack's throat. "No, no, no, no…"
"He chose you. A human. A brief speck of the universe." Saxon staggered back a step. He laughed once. Then twice. Suddenly, he wouldn't stop.
"Master, stop this." The Doctor's rough voice halted the laughter. Ianto ignored him, ignored everyone as he waited for Jack's skin to warm and pulse with life again.
"Master," the Doctor tried again, "this madness, this has to stop. The drumming—"
"Is gone," Saxon interrupted. His voice shrank, as untethered as Ianto felt.
"The drumming…it's gone." Saxon stood inches above Ianto, his shadow cast over him. Ianto looked up blearily at the lost look.
Saxon glanced back to the Doctor.
"What do I do now?"
Ianto didn't care to hear the answer. He curled over Jack and breathed against Jack's skin in hopes Jack would find some way to absorb Ianto's life into his body.
"Step away."
Ianto heard Owen spit out, "Piss off!" before he felt a jab on the top of his head. Ianto looked up and found himself staring at Saxon's screwdriver at point-blank range.
"Step. Away." Saxon's eyes were dark, his mouth set and grim.
"No," Ianto snarled and he hugged Jack closer.
"Release him and move away or your friends will bury you without a face."
"Master!" the Doctor snarled.
"Do not test the velocity of my men's bullets, Doctor." There were three clicks in succession above them. Tish Jones could be heard protesting.
The screwdriver dug into the flesh on Ianto's forehead.
"Ianto," Owen urged him. "Come on, mate. Jack wouldn't want you to do this for him."
Ianto stared hard up at Saxon. He shook under Owen's urgent hands but he didn't release Jack.
"No."
There was an odd glint in Saxon's eyes that almost looked like approval. The screwdriver pressed deeper and Ianto felt something warm trickle down his face. It tasted coppery.
"Ianto," Gwen pleaded in the back. Tosh did the same but it was another voice that made him look away from Saxon.
"Ianto Jones."
With difficulty, Ianto turned and looked at the Doctor standing to his left on the other side of the table. The Doctor's eyes were nearly colorless with grief.
"Let him go."
It echoed in his head as well as hung in the air. Ianto turned back to Jack and numbly let Owen pull him away. He took care to settle Jack on the floor. When he folded Jack's arms on his chest, Tosh choked out a sob.
Ianto staggered back a few steps but he dug his heels in when Owen tried to pull him back further. Gwen hugged his left arm and Tosh settled her hands on his back and it felt like they were the only things holding him up.
Saxon bent down on one knee, his screwdriver held loosely in his right hand. He stared at Jack, ignoring the rifles cocked when anyone tried to step forward.
"I don't understand," Saxon told Jack. He frowned to himself. "You would have waited for your Doctor forever, you have forever and yet you chose someone else."
Ianto choked when Saxon stroked Jack's face with the screwdriver in his hand. Gwen and Owen's grip on his arms jerked him back when Ianto strained forward.
"You really never heard the drumming, did you?" Saxon murmured to Jack. "You never heard it like I had." His mouth twisted before he lowered his head.
"I have something of yours," Ianto thought he heard Saxon whisper before the Time Lord sealed his mouth over Jack's.
There was a stunned air that petrified everyone as Saxon kissed Jack. Light blue vapors floated in faint wisps out of Saxon and disappeared around Jack. Even Saxon's men on the upper deck seemed uncertain how to respond.
Ianto stood there, his breathing ragged, his eyes glued to Jack's face. Saxon stroked Jack's face with the screwdriver he held then his other hand moved to caress Jack's cheek.
A hard knot that had been slowly tightening inside him suddenly snapped.
"Don't touch him!"
Ianto wrenched free from Gwen and Owen and before they could stop him, Ianto charged into Saxon.
Saxon's air rushed out and the screwdriver spun away when Ianto tackled him but the Time Lord didn't fight back when Ianto swung fist after fist. Perhaps Saxon merely was too surprised to react. It didn't matter.
"Don't touch him! Don't touch him!"
Ianto was screaming/sobbing, whichever it was that spilled ruthlessly out of his mouth and fueled his fists, as he swung at the sneer that had haunted Jack well before London. He heard shouting above him, felt hands try to grab him, but Ianto threw an elbow or his head back at anyone foolish enough to stop him. He shook them off, ignored the explosion of activity behind him as he kept trying to hit and hit and—
"All right, all right!"
Ianto roared wordlessly as he felt arms slip under his and yank him off. Arms like iron dragged him off Saxon.
"Ianto!"
Owen's face was inches from his, his left palm flat on Ianto's heaving chest.
"It's okay, lad," Martha's father rumbled in his ear. Arms loosened around his chest. "We got him."
Ianto stared blankly at Gwen and Tish pointing rifles at Saxon's men, some of the UNIT guards forced to work under Saxon were holding Lucy Saxon back. Saxon, with his discolored welts and cut lip, staggered up to his feet and glowered at him. Ianto's mind numbly calculated that there was no one left to fight but for the life of him, Ianto couldn't remember why that was important.
But then, his vision cleared to the image of Martha standing behind Owen with a wet face.
"Let me go," Ianto croaked.
Owen studied Ianto for a long moment before he nodded to Mr. Jones.
Ianto stumbled a step when he was released but he cringed when Owen tried to catch him. Ianto waved his hands helplessly at them, warding them back, as he staggered and tripped until he dropped to his knees by Jack.
Tosh's shaking hands settled on his shoulders.
"No, come here, Ianto," Tosh whispered, her voice thick with tears.
Ianto shook his head. He slipped his hands underneath Jack and cradled him to his chest. Ianto huddled closer when he felt how cold Jack was.
"He'll come back," Ianto insisted, "He will." Ianto stared at Tosh and wished he hadn't when he saw Tosh's tears running unchecked down her face. Did they forget?
"Jack will come back," Ianto tried to assure her, but Tosh's lower lip trembled. "I can feel it. He will. He did before. Don't you remember?"
"Ianto," Tosh choked. She dropped to her knees beside him. "Ianto. Sweetheart. Jack's gone."
With a gasp, Jack's body jerked in Ianto's arms. Tosh squeaked and fell back on her rear.
"Christ, that never gets old," Owen swore as he dropped to his knees next to Ianto. He set down his gun and took Jack's wrist. He grinned at Ianto and gave him a light punch in the arm.
Ianto didn't reply. He was too busy murmuring, "You're all right, you're fine" into Jack's ear.
After a few more coughs and groans, Jack settled. He blinked up at Ianto, squinting. His head rolled to rest against Ianto's shoulder. Jack took careful breaths before his jaw worked, his mouth moving.
"Ouch?" Jack rasped.
A strangely garbled noise came out of Ianto. Owen repeatedly thumped him on the back and Jack closed his eyes briefly and sighed.
Owen carefully lowered Jack's left wrist. He grinned crookedly at Ianto.
"Told you," Ianto muttered. He bent his head over Jack.
"What do we do with this one?" Owen growled. He nodded jerkily towards the back. Owen slapped his hands on his knees and straightened up. "Tosh, toss me some cuffs, will you?"
Ianto tensed when he heard Saxon snarl at Owen when the medic twisted his arms around.
"Sorry. Too tight?" Owen drawled as he snapped the cuffs on Saxon. He looked over at everyone.
"Well?"
Martha's father stepped forward. "We kill him," he growled.
"We execute him," Tish hissed from the upper deck.
"Perhaps UNIT would like a word with him," Tosh said low.
The Doctor shook his head. He held up his hands. "No, that's not the solution."
"Oh, I think so."
Everyone turned towards Martha's mother. Francine Jones held one of their guns that were set down when they had originally been surrendered.
"All those…things, they still happened because of him." Francine's lower lip quivered. "I saw them."
Saxon scoffed and merely turned his head. He stared at Ianto with a smirk, his eyes murky and dark.
"Francine, you're better than him." The Doctor approached her from the side.
"Of course she is," Saxon sneered. Owen made a face and pushed him away a step.
Ianto watched the gun waver. He almost wished she pulled the trigger but the haunted and scared look on her face made him regret thinking that. He stared as the Doctor reached for her hand and lowered her arms. Quietly, he tugged the gun out of her loose grasp before Martha came over and enveloped her mother in a fierce embrace.
Saxon scowled at the pair before he cast his attention towards the Doctor again.
"The only Time Lord left in existence," Saxon drawled. He narrowed his eyes and sneered.
The Doctor frowned to himself. "Yes. You're my responsibility from now on."
"How magnanimous of you," Saxon spat out. "So you're just gonna keep me in your TARDIS?"
The Doctor's frown deepened. He studied Saxon, his head cocked. "The only safe place is the TARDIS." The Doctor folded his arms in front of him. "But you already knew that. That's what happened before, wasn't it? You'd already plan—"
A gunshot rang out. Ianto was startled to see Owen's gun in Jack's hand.
Saxon staggered back. He stared at Jack then at the red blossoming on his chest.
"Poetic," Saxon rasped. He smiled.
"Jack!" The Doctor spun around, his mouth opened in shock.
Jack never flinched at the wide eyes on him. His hand shook and dropped as soon as Owen took back the gun.
"You can't trust him," Jack whispered. He matched the Doctor's gaze unflinching.
"No!"
Lucy Saxon wrenched free from the guards and practically threw herself to catch Saxon.
"No, no, it was supposed to be me. It was supposed to be me," Lucy cried as she wrapped her arms around her husband, but unable to hold on, she dropped to the floor clutching Saxon.
The Doctor crouched down by the pair. Lucy beat a fist at the Doctor, pushing him away until Saxon stopped her.
"It's all right, my dear Lucy. It's all right," Saxon breathed as he touched Lucy's face. "I am sorry, my dear…Loyal to the end…"
"I'm suppose to—"
"P-perhaps it's better this way…for you…Dying in your arms…"
"You're not dying," the Doctor said, his voice rough and unsteady, "don't be stupid. It's only a bullet. Just regenerate."
Saxon chuckled and muttered something Ianto couldn't hear.
"One little bullet." The Doctor was pleading now. "Come on."
Lucy wailed at whatever Saxon said. The Doctor hunched closer to Saxon.
"Regenerate," the Doctor told him. His words stuttered. He sounded almost frightened. "Just regenerate. Please! Please! Just regenerate! Come on!"
Jack stirred uneasily against Ianto. He stared at the trio, his expression unreadable.
"You've got to. Come on. It can't end like this!"
Saxon stared out the gap made between Lucy and the Doctor. Ianto grimaced and tightened his hold on Jack as if it was enough to ward off the unnerving intensity.
"Remember the Axons? And the Daleks? We're the only two left, there's no one else. Regenerate!"
Saxon tore his gaze away from them and looked up at the Doctor then at Lucy.
"The drumming…" His smile was oddly childlike as his eyes fluttered close. "It's back." His hand shook as he grasped the Doctor's jacket. Saxon pulled at it, bringing the Doctor nose to nose with him.
"The drumming's back," Saxon hissed as if he was forcing all his air out. His face then went slack, his eyes dulled and Saxon's head fell back against Lucy's chest. As Lucy keened, doubled over her Master, Saxon's hand dropped from the Doctor's jacket. The Doctor dropped his head and his shoulders shook.
Jack said nothing and turned his face away.
Francine tightened her grip on Martha's sleeve, unwilling to let go when the Doctor slouched over the Master and grieved for him like he was the Doctor's child. She didn't understand one bit.
Out of the corner of her right eye, Francine spied Jack Harkness getting up with the same energy and grace of a newborn colt. He gestured to the UNIT guards, who appeared to be more than happy to leave the room with new instructions from someone other than the Master.
"Mum." Martha looked at Francine with a solemn expression. Francine found herself letting go. She watched as Martha walked over to the Doctor, placed her hands on his shoulders and said something in his ear. The Doctor nodded slowly; his movements reminded Francine of when he was an old man sleeping under the stairs. With Martha's hand on his elbow, the Doctor rose to his feet.
"Get the body to some place secure. Gather as many guys as you can, find the rest of his men on this ship." Jack never looked at Saxon while he gave the UNIT guards their instructions. "Then call your command. Tell them the one responsible for Winters' death has been…dealt with."
Yes, Francine thought as she threw an arm over Tish, who came running over to hug her and Clive. She tucked Tish under her chin and glared at the body crumpled by the Doctor's feet. Yes, take him away, Francine thought fiercely as she hugged Tish.
Francine made a face when the guards went over to the body. Saxon looked like an ordinary human now and it bothered her to see him that way: ordinary. Dead, the Master had shrunk and was now just a dead man.
Lucy shrieked when the guards pried the body away from her. Eyes stark, her face as white as a sheet, she flew at Jack and collided into him with a force that made him stagger back a step. He held up his hands, halting everyone in their tracks.
"Filthy beast! You didn't deserve him!" Jack did nothing. He stood there, looking at Lucy like she was a stray cat in the rain. It was pathetic to watch Lucy Saxon beat his chest with her small, white fists.
"Dirty, disgusting animal not fit to carry our Master's—"
Jack's face darkened and his hand swung before anyone could stop him. He grabbed her wrists with a single fist and yanked her away from him. He released her almost immediately as if burned.
"It's over. He's dead," Jack snarled at her face. "Be grateful!"
Lucy stared at Jack with huge eyes. Then her face twisted and it looked like she was going to burst into tears, but instead, with a shrill cry, her hands curled into claws and she lunged at Jack.
The young man who was with Jack—possibly the Ianto Jones Tish said Jack mentioned often—and Tosh leaped in with another man and pulled Lucy back. It took a few tries and Jack was left doubled over, both hands over his left eye, blood dripping to the floor.
Guards came running through the door and Francine wished she could feel reassured at the sight of those red-capped troopers now on their side again. Francine stared at the UNIT soldiers as Ianto and Tosh dragged Lucy Saxon out of the bridge. Francine could still hear her, raging with the fury of a banshee even after the doors closed behind her.
One of Jack's teammates, a grim-mouthed looking Owen Harper, was arguing with Jack, trying to get a better look at Jack's face. Jack shrugged him off and gestured towards the Doctor and Martha with a stained hand. With a scowl, Owen gave Jack a pointed look before heading over to Martha instead.
"Everyone always wants a piece of me, but I’m tired of giving at the moment," Jack muttered as he stumbled away from Owen. He bumped into Francine and she doubted it was because of his eye. He kept one hand clamped over it.
"Jack." Francine pretended to frown at Jack. Jack grinned back sheepishly and it felt good to be exasperated over something this trivial. Jack tottered and Francine grabbed his arm in a flash. He righted himself before anyone noticed. She hid her surprise when she found herself only up to his shoulder. She'd forgotten how tall Jack was.
Jack hissed when he lowered his hand finally and stared at the blood on his palm. He grimaced when Francine tried to turn his head towards her.
"Ow," Jack whined half-heartedly.
"You're worse than my girls," Francine scolded as she tilted back his chin. His eye looked bloodshot, but otherwise fine. She grimaced at the puffy redness on the left side of his face. Three angry scratches marred his jaw.
"Now that this is over," Jack quipped as he tolerated Francine probing the swelling under his eye, "what say you and me run away to Bora Bora together?"
"Behave." Francine couldn't help but smirk as she swatted his hand before it could touch his face. "I'm older than you, Jack."
Jack scoffed for some reason but said nothing. He stared at the double doors.
"How are you, love?" Francine asked gently. His shirt hung over his body, untucked and bloody. It was a far cry from when she was sent down to clean him off, but Francine still didn't like how cool his face felt before or how listless his eyes were.
"Do you want to sit down, Jack?" Francine prodded. She glanced over to Clive. He nodded and inched closer just in case.
Jack made an odd sound and his face contorted. "I'm fine," he muttered, his eyes still on the doors. "UNIT will be here any minute. The Doc…I need to check on the TARDIS…I have to call…call…" Jack frowned to himself. "Who do I have to call?"
"Never mind that." Francine tugged at Jack's elbow. It worried her how Jack looked to be leaning on nothing in particular. "Why don't you sit here?" Francine gestured at a chair Clive pulled over by his leg.
Jack looked down at himself, at the bridge around him. His hands gestured at nothing in particular in the air. "There are things I…I need to do…"
"I think you've done enough."
Jack glanced over his shoulder at the Doctor. The Doctor stood there, his hands deep in his pockets, his face blank.
Jack dropped his eyes and turned back towards the doors.
The doors opened and Francine bit back a smile when the young man from before steered right for Jack. His eyes, like the color of the ocean, were glued to Jack as he veered around strewn furniture easily to reach Jack. Tosh hurried in after him, panting as if she had been running.
"Jack?" Ianto gasped as soon as he was within reach to grab Jack's sleeve.
Jack gestured towards his own face wordlessly and Ianto visibly relaxed.
"Good Lord," Francine muttered to herself when Jack turned around and his eye was perfectly fine now, his face back to the ashen pallor of before.
"I heal fast, too. No scars," Jack explained woodenly as he wiped his face clean of blood with his sleeve.
So you think, Francine thought but she said nothing. She smiled at Tosh who flew right into her open arms.
"Are you hurt?" Tosh demanded as she pulled back to examine Francine. "Lord, when that guard took you, I thought for sure…" Whatever Tosh saw on Francine's face satisfied her. She turned around to Jack.
"You should have seen her, Jack," Tosh said, her hands gesturing wildly. She mimicked Francine swinging her tray. "I thought for sure she killed that man—"
"Mum?" Martha and Tish both squawked. Martha, having overheard Tosh, spun around with her mouth open.
Francine rolled her eyes. "I didn't hit that boy too hard. I—oh, by the way, he's in the dirty linens room on level two. Someone might want to get him out before the smell kills him."
Tosh snickered.
"Sounds like you two made a lethal team," Jack said. He smiled faintly.
"Your backhand and Tosh's brains," Ianto added. He chuckled but the sound stuttered as if he'd forgotten how to make it.
"Ah yes." The Doctor spoke up, his voice hoarse with disuse. "That reminds me. Brilliant, Toshiko Sato. Your device worked beautifully."
Tosh blushed before she swiveled towards the Doctor. The Doctor blinked at her shining face.
"It was an incredible machine! The blueprints were perfect! Oh, I didn't have the equipment here or I could have made it more stable. Maybe a laser drill for the circuits? Gold wiring? Think of what we can do with it!"
Jack fidgeted his feet. "Uh, Tosh?"
Francine raised an eyebrow when Tosh never noticed. It was like her girls during Christmas.
"The frequency can certainly be modified to a broader range. Maybe to a two hundred hertz scale? Do you think it can be on a recycling broadband? Or maybe…"
Now Martha was squirming. She gave Jack an uneasy look. "Tosh?"
Oh, but Tosh couldn't be stopped. Her face lit up as her enthusiasm grew. "IR controls! Oh, this could simplify—Doctor?"
The Doctor had walked up to Tosh during her fast chatter. He stood there, smiling broadly like the day Francine had met him. It made her hackles rise to see that grin. Francine wondered if this was the same grin that charmed her Martha into leaving her family, her life for adventure.
"Ah, Toshiko Sato," the Doctor sighed. He dropped his hands on both sides of her shoulders. "The device, no, you are fantastic."
From here, Francine could see Tosh's ears pink.
"T-thank you," Tosh stammered. "But really, I—mmpf!"
Before Tosh could say anything more, the Doctor lowered his head and kissed Tosh fully on the mouth. Tosh squeaked. Jack and Martha collectively groaned and someone yelped, "Oi!" from somewhere in the back.
It was long enough that Francine was about to walk over and give the Doctor a good thrashing when they finally parted. The Doctor stepped back and looked at Tosh, waiting.
Tosh, her blush now on her face and neck, blinked. She touched her lips; she blinked again.
Then her eyes widened.
"Son of a bitch!" she blurted and before anyone could react, she kicked the Doctor right in the shins. Hard. The Doctor yipped and hopped on his good foot. Martha merely shook her head.
"I'm not a Time Lord and I saw that coming," Martha muttered under her breath.
"Tosh?" Ianto squeezed into the group and touched Tosh's arm briefly. "What is it?"
"It's gone! The technology!" Tosh exclaimed. "All of it!" Tosh looked torn between bursting into tears and being thoroughly pissed. She chose the latter. She glowered at the Doctor.
"It's a little premature for humanity to have this technology," the Doctor said as he edged back, a little behind Martha. He stared warily at Tosh's feet. "This century isn't ready for it."
Tosh stared at the Doctor and it looked like she was going to kick him again when she spun around and stomped away.
"Tosh?" Ianto called out, his brow knitted together. "Where are you going?"
"To get normal clothes!" Tosh shouted back. Her apron was tossed over her shoulder and two guards scurried out of her way as she stalked past. She didn't stop as she stormed through the doors, her friend Gwen at her heels.
Everyone looked back at the Doctor, who stared back perplexed.
"What?"
Whatever anyone was going to say, was forgotten when Jack, without another word, simply dropped to the floor before anyone could catch him.
Fire raced up from his lower back as fingers dug into his flesh…
With a strangled cry, Jack started. He flailed.
Hands touched him, voices soothed. Jack swung his fists wildly until the touch stroking his head finally registered as something familiar.
"What?" Jack coughed. He looked up blearily to find Ianto sitting on the edge of whatever bed Jack was on. The give of the mattress and the blankets tangled around his torso unsettled him.
"You're in the TARDIS," Ianto said, his voice quiet and as still as a lake at night. "We brought you back to the TARDIS."
Jack turned his head left and right, but the recognizable surroundings of his old room only made his heart hammer faster.
"The others?" Jack asked as he took deep breaths to slow the pounding in his chest. "Owen? Tosh? Gwen?" Jack struggled up on his elbows. "The D-doctor. Mart—"
A hand on his shoulder stopped him.
"Everyone's fine. Owen and the others went with UNIT to search the ship for the rest of Saxon's men. Martha's with her family." Ianto paused. "The Doctor. He's…he's…with the body."
Jack stared at Ianto. The words slowly filtered in and suddenly, Jack felt tired, depleted. Jack sagged and nearly pitched sideways off the bed but Ianto's arm shot out and caught him. Jack held up a hand holding Ianto back as he slumped against the headboard.
"How long was I out?" Jack croaked. He was bothered that his hands shook when he brought them up to scrub his face."
"A few hours," Ianto calculated. He twisted around and turning back, he held a tall glass in his hand. "Thought it might be better to let you to rest in here than out…there."
Jack's throat worked and he tried not to gulp as he accepted the glass of water. He drank, savored the crisp feel of water slipping a cool trail down his throat. He used the moment to gather priorities around him like a fence. Quickly as he drained the glass, Jack rearranged everything in his head.
"Do we have confirmation that everything reversed down there?" Jack wheezed.
The knowing eyes were hard to look at and Ianto must have realized because he cleared his throat and ducked his head. Ianto nodded.
"People are panicking at the assassination on the telly, but that's it. UNIT is taking charge now and Owen was more than happy to let them muddle through this mess." Ianto smiled tightly. "A Brigadier general just came up on the Valiant and the first thing he asked was 'where the bloody hell is that ruddy Doctor?'"
Jack smiled faintly. "The Doctor is known to bring trouble with him." He stared into his empty glass. "So everything on Earth…"
"No one remembers the Toclafane or the end of the world." Ianto sounded awed. He swiped his tongue across his lower lip. "Everything, it's been a year for us, but in reality, it's only been minutes for them."
"That year never happened for them," Jack said. He swallowed. "The year that never was." Jack choked as he tried to laugh. "Welcome to time travel."
Ianto's eyes were huge when he stared at Jack. He kept ironing out a piece of the blanket over Jack with a palm.
"I…I called my family and they…they were sitting around at home watching the telly." Ianto swallowed. "The whole time, they were all home when the Toclafane…"
"They're all right now," Jack reminded Ianto. "Your family's still watching the telly, probably making all kinds of conspiracy theories with the rest of the world."
Ianto tried to smile but it crumbled quickly.
"Before…Rhys called Gwen and God, the look on Gwen's face, Jack, when that mobile rang. Owen and I knew she'd kept that thing charged in her pocket, but when it rang…You should have seen it. And Tosh, she was able to reach her family. They're all okay. Alive. Jack, it's…" Ianto took a deep breath. Ianto stared at his hands worrying a corner of the blanket. He pulled his hands away.
"Sorry. S-sorry, I'm just prattling on like…" Ianto ran a hand through his hair. "Everyone's acting like it's only been minutes. Minutes. Not an entire year! I-I…I'm almost afraid to believe it."
Jack wished he could feel what Ianto was feeling right now but there was a hollow sensation in his chest that wouldn't go away. "All those deaths. Everything that had happened. Everything's been erased."
"Not everything." Ianto looked at Jack. Then, a shadow flitted across his face and Ianto averted his gaze. He sighed.
"Sorry," Ianto whispered.
Jack curled both hands around the empty glass. "It's over," Jack said dully. "I'm sorry you have to remember."
"I'm sorry you have to remember, too," Ianto said quietly.
The glass cracked in Jack's grasp and dug into his palms.
Ianto swore. "Here. Let me get a bin. Wait, careful, just toss it here…"
Jack stared at his lap and the pinkish dots swirling in the spilled water before the blanket over his legs greedily soaked it up. Jack's throat worked.
"I need a shower," Jack croaked.
"Do you…" Ianto lowered his eyes. "I'll wait out here."
Jack nodded. He got to his feet shakily and tried not to run as he stumbled towards the washing area in the back.
He thought for sure when he stood in front of Ianto that it was the end.
Jack stood in the small stall and stared at the wall as water came down from above like rain. It didn't matter how long he stood there, the water couldn't get rid of the suffocating gritty skin that wrapped tight around his bones. Jack settled one hand on the wall, one hand on his chest. The hum that usually pulsed under his palms was faint. The one in his chest was strong.
The absurdity of it made Jack laugh, but it died quickly because it took too much energy.
The wall was cool and slick when Jack rested his head on the wall. The soap he had scrubbed into his skin until his body felt raw had trickled down his back. He stopped when the suds slithered down over his buttocks and felt too much like something else.
Jack breathed through his nose, held the air before exhaling slowly and he tried to imagine his muscles relaxing one at a time. It was a routine he'd used all year—God, had it only been a year?
Inhale. Exhale. The muscles on his shoulders flexed then relaxed. It felt like chains were still pulling his limbs back. Jack tried to imagine the tendons behind his blades, around the joints that had popped from hanging on chains when Jack was too tired to stand.
Inhale. Exhale. Jack then arched his back to stretch the cord of muscles that followed the profile of his spine, the ones that always tore first under the whips. He tensed then released.
Inhale. Ex—
Jack choked as a sharp slicing blow cut across the back of his legs, fire licked greedily around his middle then the whine of a screwdriver as it burned a white hot line over his sto—
Nononononostopstop…
"Jack? Jack!"
Cold air rushed in when the stall door opened and Jack was too caught up in shadowy agony to realize. Hands—no, leave me alone, damn it—curled around his shoulders and turned him around until his back was to the wall now. No, he didn't want to see his face when—
"Jack! Look at me! Come on! Look at me…"
His bare shoulders slapped against the wet wall for the third time before Jack finally exhaled. His lungs burned from the strain and he could barely see through the steam that misted from the hot shower and collided with the cool air from outside.
Ianto, soaked through in his t-shirt and jeans, stood inside the shower with him. His shoes squished when he shifted his weight.
"Where are you?" Ianto asked, his voice higher than Jack ever heard it before. His hands felt cold on Jack's face. Ianto held his head with both hands, forcing Jack to look at him. "Jack, quickly, where are you right now?"
"TARDIS," Jack groaned although it took a second to find the answer. He would have slid down the wall but Ianto's grip on his biceps stopped his descent.
Fingers relaxed a little and Ianto acted reluctant when he dropped his hands.
"Okay," Ianto said, his voice trembling a little. "I-I heard…well…here…I'll let you take your shower."
Jack's arm shot out and he grabbed a fist of wet cotton on Ianto's back just as he started to leave. Ianto stopped short and turned to face him.
"Don't," Jack croaked. "Don't go." He released his hold and moved to grasp a handful of the shirt's front instead.
Water dribbled down Ianto's face, streams of water running down like tears from hair plastered to his skull, wet brushstrokes of cotton defined the contours of his torso and the sinewy cords of strength borne from too much battle and not enough food to eat.
Jack stared at Ianto and tried to get his mouth working again, but he could only inhale, exhale.
"I can step outside," Ianto said quietly after a period of hesitation. "It'll be all right."
The understanding and the words were too much to hear.
"Don't talk," Jack rasped. "Just…don't go."
Ianto nodded and, despite how uncomfortable he must be feeling, huddled closer to Jack under the unrelenting shower, his hands loose and light over Jack's arms.
Jack pulled harder at the sodden shirt and watched the neckline stretch under the water's weight and expose Ianto's throat and the hollow dip under his Adam's apple. He raised his other hand and reached for Ianto's jaw but found his arm wouldn't obey and landed on Ianto's shoulder instead.
Blue eyes deep and quiet stared at Jack's face, never straying as Jack released Ianto's shirt and moved his hand up to his other shoulder.
The water was hot. Jack could sense the sweat instead of the shower beading across his forehead. He cupped Ianto's jaw, his thumb rubbing under Ianto's eye. Jack wished the water he wiped clean under Ianto's eye were tears and the simple gesture he just did had fixed everything.
Both hands framing Ianto's face now, Jack felt his chest heave as he leaned in. Ianto never moved. His hands stayed feather-light on Jack's arms.
It was close enough that Jack could see the tears collected at the corners of Ianto's eyes. He paused at the sight of himself reflected in the solemn eyes that guided him every night of every day. Jack was unrecognizable in them and something shriveled inside him.
Ianto closed his eyes, sealing Jack's image away.
Jack exhaled on Ianto's face, his mouth parted and before he changed his mind, Jack lowered his mouth.
Lips parted and accepted him without hesitation. Moist, warm, soft yet unyielding, Ianto's mouth felt both familiar and alien to Jack. The roughness of stubble under Jack's palm was unlike the slick, shaven jaw that had scraped against him. The soaked fabric felt different to the wool that rubbed against him, fine wool that was both smooth and coarse. The hands on his arms were almost limp, never demanding as Jack moved his arms to pull Ianto to his chest.
Tentative taste sharpened to nips and Jack dove into Ianto's mouth with a bruising kiss as his hands curled and clawed. He wasn't sure if he wanted to pull Ianto close or push him away.
Each blow, each burn, Jack tried to exorcise by devouring just a little more of what Ianto offered. He made a sound when a ghostly touch soiled his skin, he shuddered when a knife nicked deep into bone. Frantic, mind too full, too loud to hold one thought longer than a blink, Jack clutched Ianto to him like a lifesaver.
It was the thick threaded texture of denim that brushed against his own soft genitals that finally made the red haze clear and Jack became very aware of how still and silent Ianto was. Jack meant to let go but he ended up pushing Ianto back harder than he should have and the momentum sent Jack himself crashing back into the wall.
Jack stared at the swollen lower lip, the tiny trickle of blood at the corner of Ianto's mouth. Ianto staggered back a step but he never moved to wipe his mouth.
Jack couldn't stand anymore and his knees buckled.
"Sorry," Jack gasped. "I'm…God, I'm sorry."
In the tight space, it took Ianto only a step forward for him to slip his arms under Jack's, stopping his descent.
"It's all right," Ianto said as he hauled Jack up. "It's fine."
No it wasn't and Jack wanted to punch Ianto for saying that it was. His hand shook though, wouldn't bunch and then the vibrations traveled up his body and Jack couldn't speak anymore.
Ianto simply pulled Jack to him and held him.
They stood under the shower, no words between them. Jack's arms were limp against his sides; his body shook as if the water crashing over them was ice cold. Ianto said nothing. He didn't even say it was okay. His arms just went around Jack, careful not to stand too close, his head settled gingerly on the crook of Jack's right shoulder.
The shaking finally stopped but Ianto didn't let go. Jack couldn't find the strength to step back like he should and simply rested his heavy head on top of Ianto's.
"It's over," Jack rasped. "All of it. It's over."
Ianto just nodded.
Jack gulped and clenched his jaw.
Ianto's hands moved to cup the back of his neck.
Jack pulled back enough to see Ianto. He stared at the eyes so vivid and old, it was like looking at the birth of a universe with all the sparkle and brightness of new stars. The reflection he saw in Ianto's gaze started to look a little more familiar, less unsettling.
Hands trembled as they moved up to cradle the back of Ianto's head. Ianto stared up at him, his expression revealing none of the revulsion Jack felt curdling inside himself, and his face was open and waiting.
Jack's hands steadied. He held Ianto's face and thought of a time when the impossible had happened and Ianto held him within his mind while Saxon had raged and tore his body to shreds. Jack dipped his head again and this time, Ianto tilted his head up to follow.
The kiss this time tasted more of salt, of the water from the shower, of the air he breathed. Ianto tasted like Ianto now: quiet yet firm, warm and embracing like a soft blanket wrapped around Jack's body and mind.
Water sluiced when Jack turned up his hand to curve around the back of Ianto's skull. Ianto's fingers skimmed over Jack like piano keys. His fingers were callused but always full of grace. They rubbed circles on Jack's back. He kept them between Jack's shoulders after wandering lower made Jack whimper.
The curve of Ianto's spine arched into Jack's hand when Jack slipped a hand under Ianto's damp shirt. Ianto sighed when Jack did nothing more than stroke the slick skin discovered under the wet cotton.
Carefully, Jack rolled the soaked shirt up Ianto's torso like peeling paper off an artifact. One hand bunching the shirt higher, Jack's other hand tentatively touched flesh that flexed and breathed under his touch.
Ianto said nothing as the shirt rolled over his head but he did smile ruefully when Jack rubbed a palm over the unruly spikes of hair to smooth them down.
There was a moment when his breath hitched though seeing pink water rippling down Ianto's face and torso, pink water that spun around the drain below them.
"Your blood."
Ianto's voice was a surprise and Ianto kept his hands on Jack's back when Jack started.
"It's your blood," Ianto whispered. "I'm fine."
Jack nodded. The taste of bile still lingered in his mouth when he remembered how the Master's eyes flicked over to Ianto even as his body turned towards the Doctor.
"Alive," Jack said, hushed, afraid to say it out loud and curse them both. He said it instead with his fingers writing it in the water over Ianto's skin, in every language he could think of. Jack gathered the soap again from the alcove and scrubbed rich lather over Ianto's neck and torso; every part that had blood.
Jack could see Ianto's eyes darkening, a hunger that was unfulfilled for both of them for so long, but all Jack could feel was cold, numb, needles pricking deeper and deeper into him. But he wasn't going to deny the murky cloud in Ianto's eyes. He moved his hands to Ianto's jeans. Jack worked free the top button, peeled the denim down Ianto's hips before he realized Ianto had been calling him.
"It's okay," Ianto was saying over and over, "Jack, we don't have to do this."
It was only when Ianto nudged him to rest against the wall that Jack discovered he was shaking so bad, his fingers were tangled in the belt loops. Jack chuckled, laughed, maybe choked and his hands were batted away.
Ianto stepped out of the denim after kicking off his shoes and they plopped down in a corner. Ianto took a deep breath then took another step, close enough that Ianto's body heat warmed Jack's skin. He wrapped his arms around Jack again.
Jack closed his eyes briefly at the feel of damp, warm muscle breathing against him. His fingers pressed weakly at the wet skin he could feel. He kissed the top of Ianto's head, traced the contour of Ianto's right ear with a finger and pulled Ianto even closer.
The heated, velvety swell bumping against him made him tense at first but then Ianto shifted and it brushed against him, tickling along the junction of his hip and torso instead. The responding fever on his skin felt faintly familiar. Jack knew this once. Once, this erased the dreams and the cold darkness.
His hands swept up Ianto's back. Ianto stood feet apart and rubbed against Jack as his hands floated with airy caresses up Jack's arms.
"It's done," Jack rasped as he ground his hips into Ianto, "It's over." His voice shook. Jack massaged the firm body in his arms, slathered suds down Ianto's body. Jack followed the lather's journey with his fingers, pausing as they traveled to Ianto's groin, but he pushed aside whatever was chilling into ice inside and wrapped his hands around Ianto.
The small gasp nearly made Jack pull back but then Ianto wiggled closer to Jack, his hips jerking forward as he tried to thrust into Jack's loose fist. Slick, smelling of soap and sweat, Ianto moaned deep in his throat as he rested his forehead on Jack's chest.
The pace rocking against him, the heat of another's skin was something Jack remembered. Ianto's hand curled around Jack's cock was a memory Jack had thought at one point was just a dream. He matched Ianto's pace with slow, unsure snaps of his own hips and when they collided and crashed against each other, Jack bit his lower lip.
Hard silk poked at him, ground against his semi-aroused state. Jack thrust harder into Ianto's fist, desperate to match the stiff, throbbing heat against his hip, but Ianto would only loosen his fist, his other hand splayed on Jack's right hip to hold him back.
Eventually, Ianto's restraining hand dropped. He whimpered and murmured Jack's name over and over as they clung to each other, hips jerking against each other in a frantic, growing need to feel.
The whispers of memory that scored his body dropped away one by one. Jack smashed his mouth against Ianto's to smother the raw sound that wanted to come out of his throat. Ianto was no longer motionless, now a moving set of sensations of wet skin, fingers, and searching mouth.
Closer and closer Jack could feel something under his skin squirming to get out. His skin itched where Ianto didn't touch, his skin boiled in places where Ianto did.
The phantom chains on his wrists fell away.
The claws on his bones slackened.
The film that surrounded him dissolved.
Jack buried his face into Ianto's shoulder and with a shudder, he came into Ianto's hands and everything simply fell apart.
Conclusion 2/2
Additional Notes: Many thanks to
soullessminion for betaing this chapter. And trtmx for her magic trick that saved my sanity! LOL.