Fragments of a Shattered Life 17
Title: Fragments of a Shattered Life
Part: 17/28-ish
Rating: 18+
Warnings: Explicit violence, non-con
Genre: Angst
Characters: Jack Harkness, Ianto Jones, Tosh, Owen
Summary: After POTW Jack's life takes a turn for the worse and he desperately needs help. A Doctor Who/Torchwood crossover. Note that this is a very dark fic.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
A/N:
I've written a very short Jack Ianto story (Six Months). Its not related to this story but I'd love people to check it out. It's here ohinyan.livejournal.com/5310.html
Chapter 17: Obeying Orders
When Jack woke, he froze. His memory was hazy but he remembered jumping into the rift and then his bracelets activated and he was barely aware of anything else except pain until this point. He was incredibly thankful that the bracelets were no longer active but he had no idea where he was.
As he looked around and suddenly realised that he was locked in a cell Jack snapped. The weight of the years of imprisonment and abuse coupled with the events of the last several days suddenly overwhelmed him. To believe that he had finally escaped, even if escape meant true death, only to wake and find himself back in a cell was too much.
He screamed and shrieked and started to bang his head as hard as he could on the brick wall of the cell.
Ianto, Tosh and Owen heard the almighty row in the main Hub. “Shit,” they exclaimed as one, before running down towards the cells. Owen stopped on the way to pick up some tranquilizers.
As they got to the cells, Ianto just shouted “stop that!” at the top of his voice. He didn't expect it to work but the effect on their prisoner was immediate. He spun round, saw them and dropped to his knees. It was a posture of total submission. Kneeling head bowed low. He also started speaking the same phrase over and over again, in a language none of them could identify.
“Typical,” snorted Owen, “why can't they speak English in outer space, or wherever it is that he came from.”
With a brief pause their patient's chanting stopped and restarted in halting but recognisable English. “I'm sorry, please forgive me, please don't hurt me.”
“Jeez,” yelled Owen, “he understood me and he does bloody well speak English.”
Looking at the scene before them Tosh, who had vivid memories of her own days locked in a cell, could stand it no longer. “Get him out of that cell. He's not a dangerous criminal. He's more like a slave and we've terrorised him.”
No one disagreed.
With Owen on guard with a stun gun in case of trouble, Ianto opened the cell. Tosh ventured slowly inside and addressed the man. “Can you understand me?”
He kept his head bowed but stopped chanting. “Yes,” he whispered.
If the slave analogy was correct he would probably follow orders, Tosh thought. So she told him, “Stand up and look at me.”
He did so and then said “How may I serve you?”
His English was hesitant and certainly not perfect but it was understandable.
“Tell me your name,” Tosh commanded.
“Jack,” he answered.
“Are you from Earth ?”
“No,” he replied.
Tosh continued questioning, though it was slow going as Jack tended to give one word answers. At least he would answer direct questions. Asking general ones didn't meet with much success.
Eventually they had ascertained that he was human but from a planet a long way from Earth in the far future. Also he understood English but it had been so long since he'd used it he was having trouble finding the words.
When Tosh had asked if he was a slave, Jack had been unwilling or unable to answer.
Having finally decided that Jack was not an immediate danger, the Torchwood team went about organising a room for him in the Hub that was nothing like a cell. Owen stayed with Jack trying to get more information from him while Ianto and Tosh went to sort out the room.
It took them a while, as they had to go shopping for bedding and other essentials but they eventually had a bright and cosy room sorted down one of the corridors well away from the cells. It had a shower and toilet next door. They had also provided toiletries and a few books. Tosh had set up an alarm to alert them if Jack left the corridor where his rooms were. When all was ready Ianto went to fetch Jack from the cell and escorted him to his room.
“This is your room,” he explained to Jack, who looked a little apprehensive.
“Go on in,” Ianto encouraged.
Jack did so with Ianto following.
“The bathroom is next door and you should have everything you need. And there's some books to read which will help you practise your English as well as pass the time. Get some rest now and we'll check in on you later.” With that he left Jack standing by the bed and went upstairs to the main Hub to watch what he'd do on the CCTV.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
As Ianto left him alone in the room, some of the tension left Jack. He had expected Ianto to require him to serve him when they had arrived at the bedroom. However, he was still far from calm. He looked over to the top corner of the room at the camera mounted there. So, no matter how comfortable the cage, he was still a prisoner.
Jack had recovered his equanimity a bit after his earlier meltdown. After believing he had escaped, the sudden shock of waking in a cell after suffering hours of agonising pain had pushed him over the edge. But he was so conditioned to obedience that, even in that state, he had obeyed whenever he was given an order. That had had the fortunate side effect of calming him down.
He had not known what to say when they asked if he was a slave. A slave in all but name yes, but technically he was a sentenced prisoner undergoing his punishment.
It remained to be seen what his new masters wanted with him. They seemed to have managed to deactivate the bracelets which presumably meant that they could reactivate them whenever they wanted. He did not know where he was or what year he was in but the fact that English was the local language was a hopeful sign. He didn't think that anything here could be as bad as Nirvana or the ARC research station. And, even more important , they didn't know he couldn't die. As long as he could keep that secret he could never be as badly off as he had been before.
But there was no point wondering. He would find out eventually. For now he would rest as he had been ordered. Before sleeping he needed to use the bathroom. He wasn't used to having a separate room for this and he found it amazingly hard to approach the bedroom door and open it. Part of him was amazed that the door did indeed open and the other part cringed with terror at the idea of opening it himself. But open it did and he used the bathroom as quickly as he could hurrying back into the bedroom with his heart pounding.
They had left him pyjamas ! He looked at them in disbelief. In over 130 years he had not even seen a pair, sleeping in whatever he happened to be wearing, or naked when with a client. And even before that he'd almost never worn them. For some reason their presence brought a lump to his throat.
He was expected to wear them so that is what he did. There was a light switch but he didn't dare use that. The masters would want to able to see what he was doing. He climbed into the bed which was comfortable with a luxurious duvet. The sort of thing he had been used to only when with a client on Nirvana. Perhaps things would change in the morning but for now he was going to enjoy the first no strings luxury he had been given in far too long.
Chapter 18 here ohinyan.livejournal.com/6135.html
Part: 17/28-ish
Rating: 18+
Warnings: Explicit violence, non-con
Genre: Angst
Characters: Jack Harkness, Ianto Jones, Tosh, Owen
Summary: After POTW Jack's life takes a turn for the worse and he desperately needs help. A Doctor Who/Torchwood crossover. Note that this is a very dark fic.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
A/N:
I've written a very short Jack Ianto story (Six Months). Its not related to this story but I'd love people to check it out. It's here ohinyan.livejournal.com/5310.html
Chapter 17: Obeying Orders
When Jack woke, he froze. His memory was hazy but he remembered jumping into the rift and then his bracelets activated and he was barely aware of anything else except pain until this point. He was incredibly thankful that the bracelets were no longer active but he had no idea where he was.
As he looked around and suddenly realised that he was locked in a cell Jack snapped. The weight of the years of imprisonment and abuse coupled with the events of the last several days suddenly overwhelmed him. To believe that he had finally escaped, even if escape meant true death, only to wake and find himself back in a cell was too much.
He screamed and shrieked and started to bang his head as hard as he could on the brick wall of the cell.
Ianto, Tosh and Owen heard the almighty row in the main Hub. “Shit,” they exclaimed as one, before running down towards the cells. Owen stopped on the way to pick up some tranquilizers.
As they got to the cells, Ianto just shouted “stop that!” at the top of his voice. He didn't expect it to work but the effect on their prisoner was immediate. He spun round, saw them and dropped to his knees. It was a posture of total submission. Kneeling head bowed low. He also started speaking the same phrase over and over again, in a language none of them could identify.
“Typical,” snorted Owen, “why can't they speak English in outer space, or wherever it is that he came from.”
With a brief pause their patient's chanting stopped and restarted in halting but recognisable English. “I'm sorry, please forgive me, please don't hurt me.”
“Jeez,” yelled Owen, “he understood me and he does bloody well speak English.”
Looking at the scene before them Tosh, who had vivid memories of her own days locked in a cell, could stand it no longer. “Get him out of that cell. He's not a dangerous criminal. He's more like a slave and we've terrorised him.”
No one disagreed.
With Owen on guard with a stun gun in case of trouble, Ianto opened the cell. Tosh ventured slowly inside and addressed the man. “Can you understand me?”
He kept his head bowed but stopped chanting. “Yes,” he whispered.
If the slave analogy was correct he would probably follow orders, Tosh thought. So she told him, “Stand up and look at me.”
He did so and then said “How may I serve you?”
His English was hesitant and certainly not perfect but it was understandable.
“Tell me your name,” Tosh commanded.
“Jack,” he answered.
“Are you from Earth ?”
“No,” he replied.
Tosh continued questioning, though it was slow going as Jack tended to give one word answers. At least he would answer direct questions. Asking general ones didn't meet with much success.
Eventually they had ascertained that he was human but from a planet a long way from Earth in the far future. Also he understood English but it had been so long since he'd used it he was having trouble finding the words.
When Tosh had asked if he was a slave, Jack had been unwilling or unable to answer.
Having finally decided that Jack was not an immediate danger, the Torchwood team went about organising a room for him in the Hub that was nothing like a cell. Owen stayed with Jack trying to get more information from him while Ianto and Tosh went to sort out the room.
It took them a while, as they had to go shopping for bedding and other essentials but they eventually had a bright and cosy room sorted down one of the corridors well away from the cells. It had a shower and toilet next door. They had also provided toiletries and a few books. Tosh had set up an alarm to alert them if Jack left the corridor where his rooms were. When all was ready Ianto went to fetch Jack from the cell and escorted him to his room.
“This is your room,” he explained to Jack, who looked a little apprehensive.
“Go on in,” Ianto encouraged.
Jack did so with Ianto following.
“The bathroom is next door and you should have everything you need. And there's some books to read which will help you practise your English as well as pass the time. Get some rest now and we'll check in on you later.” With that he left Jack standing by the bed and went upstairs to the main Hub to watch what he'd do on the CCTV.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
As Ianto left him alone in the room, some of the tension left Jack. He had expected Ianto to require him to serve him when they had arrived at the bedroom. However, he was still far from calm. He looked over to the top corner of the room at the camera mounted there. So, no matter how comfortable the cage, he was still a prisoner.
Jack had recovered his equanimity a bit after his earlier meltdown. After believing he had escaped, the sudden shock of waking in a cell after suffering hours of agonising pain had pushed him over the edge. But he was so conditioned to obedience that, even in that state, he had obeyed whenever he was given an order. That had had the fortunate side effect of calming him down.
He had not known what to say when they asked if he was a slave. A slave in all but name yes, but technically he was a sentenced prisoner undergoing his punishment.
It remained to be seen what his new masters wanted with him. They seemed to have managed to deactivate the bracelets which presumably meant that they could reactivate them whenever they wanted. He did not know where he was or what year he was in but the fact that English was the local language was a hopeful sign. He didn't think that anything here could be as bad as Nirvana or the ARC research station. And, even more important , they didn't know he couldn't die. As long as he could keep that secret he could never be as badly off as he had been before.
But there was no point wondering. He would find out eventually. For now he would rest as he had been ordered. Before sleeping he needed to use the bathroom. He wasn't used to having a separate room for this and he found it amazingly hard to approach the bedroom door and open it. Part of him was amazed that the door did indeed open and the other part cringed with terror at the idea of opening it himself. But open it did and he used the bathroom as quickly as he could hurrying back into the bedroom with his heart pounding.
They had left him pyjamas ! He looked at them in disbelief. In over 130 years he had not even seen a pair, sleeping in whatever he happened to be wearing, or naked when with a client. And even before that he'd almost never worn them. For some reason their presence brought a lump to his throat.
He was expected to wear them so that is what he did. There was a light switch but he didn't dare use that. The masters would want to able to see what he was doing. He climbed into the bed which was comfortable with a luxurious duvet. The sort of thing he had been used to only when with a client on Nirvana. Perhaps things would change in the morning but for now he was going to enjoy the first no strings luxury he had been given in far too long.
Chapter 18 here ohinyan.livejournal.com/6135.html