You Keep Me Alive part 2

May 05, 2010 13:18


Rating: PG
Characters:   Jack, Ianto, The Master, mention of other TW and DW characters
Spoilers: Not really any.
Disclaimer: I don’t own anything. If I did there would be some characters dead, and others alive.
Summary: During The Year That Never Was, Jack is tortured by the Master, but what is keeping Jack fighting.


Beta: This was written for one of my college class’. I really cannot say ladyeternal  was my beta. She was so much more than just a beta. [People get you minds out of the gutter. I so did not mean it that way :)]   I could have never received the grade that I did without her help.

NOTE: Thank you all very very much for all the support you gave me after reading my ramblings. As always feedback is always loved.   There are only 2 more parts after this.

Also I have enrolled for my classes during the summer and fall semesters. I am going to be taking another writing class. [I hate being this close to a degree because there are very few classes I have to choose from. This is killing me I am a history person not an English person.] I have not desided if I will be continuing this story, or start a completely new one. What do you all think? Should I finish this, or start a new one. If anyone has any ideas I would love to hear them, especially if I finish this one, because I only wrote the amount I was required to for class, and I don’t know what would happen next.

Day 67:

Although Jack usually didn’t sleep for long periods of time, physical and mental exhaustion were driving him to sleep more than he had in years. Torture and death were taxing every physical reserve he had, and his confinement gave him little else to do.

When he'd first arrived Jack had examined every possible avenue of escape from his cage within the recesses of the Valiant. He quickly discovered even with help, escape was unlikely and impossible without it. No one who came to see him would bother with help, knowing when - not if - they were caught, it would mean yet another death for Jack as well as their own. Other than the few seconds or minutes that someone entered the cell to bring him something that resembled food, the only person who entered was the Master, and the Master's visits were never good visits.

No matter how bad the torture become, no matter how cruel and lingering and painful a demise the Master concocted for his own sadistic amusement, Jack clung to memories of Ianto to keep himself sane. No amount of punishment could drive Ianto's name from his lips, for Jack knew what would become of his beautiful, young Welshman if he did. Only the image of those beautiful, blue eyes and the gentle roll of those Welsh vowels gave Jack something to live for, to fight for, and to come home for.

“So Captain, what is on this little pathetic planet that you fight so hard for?” The Master plunged yet another object into Jack's chest. Jack had long since quit caring what it was. The Master's voice continued to echo in his ears as Jack was engulfed in darkness yet again. "I told you I will figure it out one day, and I will destroy it right in front of you.”

Moments later Jack came back to the living just as he always did. It was always disorienting for a few moments and worse when he was alone. Dying was never enjoyable, but it was tolerable when someone was there to focus on when he woke in excruciating pain. But, sadly, no one was there to help him through it now.

Between Cyber-Lisa's rampage and the incident with the fairies, there had been a rift between Jack's team members that just kept growing. Jack watched as Toshiko secluded herself into her world of bits and bytes and binary code. Owen started spending more and more of his time with the dead rather than the living. Gwen began losing control of her life outside of Torchwood, but the person who worried Jack the most was Ianto.

Ianto started secluding himself into his little haven of organization. The archives had become all he had left. He had lost so much at Canary Wharf and even more just weeks ago by Jack’s own hand.

When Jack had received a call about a number of mysterious disappearances in the countryside, he decided it would be good for the team to investigate. He didn’t see where these peoples’ disappearances had anything to do with Torchwood, the rift or aliens, but he saw it as an opportunity to reunite his team, his family. Unfortunately, nothing about the trip went as planned.

After a day none of them would soon forget - if ever - Ianto had disappeared into his sanctuary after Owen released him with orders to rest. Ianto had nothing physically wrong other than a few broken ribs and some cuts and bruises, which were easily fixed by the immense amount of alien and future technology available at the Hub. However, the emotional injuries were far deeper and far more painful. Jack knew Ianto was already plagued with nightmares more often than not, and this incident was only going to cause more.

Before heading down to the archives to find Ianto, Jack had stopped to check on Toshiko. He wanted to know that she was all right and to find out exactly what his beloved Welshman and she had experienced during their captivity. If anyone knew what Ianto was feeling right now, it would be Tosh. Not only had she been with him, she was Ianto’s closest friend on the team; quite possibly his best friend.

Tosh told her captain about being knocked out and put in a basement along with Ianto. She told him about the stacks and stacks of shoes and the refrigerators full of human body parts. She told Jack with pride about how Ianto had saved her life at the risk of his own. Then the pride was replaced by sadness.

“That horrible man stood there with this rusty, old, bloody butcher’s knife at Ianto’s neck. You could just see the sheer terror in his face as the man was telling him ‘It’s time to be bled.’ That was when you came hurdling through the wall on that tractor and shot all the villagers. Jack, if you had been just a minute later he wouldn’t…he wouldn’t be alive.”  Tears began to spill from her beautiful, dark eyes at the thought of what might have happened to her closest friend.  “He was doing okay until we got out of that house of horrors, and then I think it all finally hit him. It seemed as though he was just going through the motions. He didn’t say anything the entire ride back here.  He just stared out the window never really looking at anything. Hell, he didn’t even care about the bloody, rude arse remarks from Owen… I’m really worried about him, Jack.”

Jack gave the Asian technician an appreciative hug and a kiss to her temple. “So am I Toshiko, so am I.” He sighed at what he had contributed to putting his team through. “I’m going to go find him. Why don’t you lot head home now?  And don’t bother about coming in tomorrow, unless the world is ending, of course.” Not even waiting for a reply, Jack headed down the steps. He knew just where to look for the tortured man.

“Ianto, where are you?” Jack asked, wandering up and down the aisles of the vast archives never hearing a response to his cries of concern.

When Jack finally found Ianto, he was sitting on the cold, hard floor, still covered with dirt and grime, leaning against the archive’s filing cabinets. There were more drawers with numbers and labels than could possibly be counted in a day, by Jack at least. Jack was certain that if he were to ask Ianto, the young Welshman would know exactly how many there were and their contents. Ianto knew everything about these archives, after all.

Jack watched with mounting concern as Ianto rubbed at the blood still on his hands. Jack didn't know if it was Ianto's, another victim's, or a mixture of both. "Come on, Ianto, I'm taking you home. You need to get out of these clothes, wash up and get some rest." Kneeling down, Jack grasped Ianto's hand to help him to his feet.

No sooner had Jack's fingers brushed Ianto's hand than Ianto had pulled it away, an instinctive reaction. "Ianto," Jack said, concern ebbing in his voice.  "Nothing is going to happen to you. Look." Shifting aside and glancing around, hoping Ianto would follow his gaze, Jack gestured at the large room. "We're in Cardiff… in the Hub… in YOUR archives. You're safe."

Jack watched as Ianto's eyes scanned around the room, saw realization dawn in them for the first time in hours of just where he was and who he was with. Relief washed through Jack when Ianto finally looked up at him and took his still offered hand.

“Come on, Ianto.  I’m taking you home. Okay?”

Ianto simply nodded as he let Jack guide him to his feet and out of his little haven.

Walking through the Hub, Jack quickly shut down the computers, turned down the lights and put the Torchwood base on temporary lockdown before the two men left using the lift. As they rose from beneath the city, both men shuddered as the cold Welsh night air chilled them through to their bones. However, their hands never parted as they walked across the plaza, around the Millennium Center and toward Ianto’s flat.

Once inside, Ianto sat silently on the edge of his bed, still trying to rub off all the blood and dirt from his hands.

“I’ve got it. I’ll get it off,” Jack said as he approached from the adjoining bathroom carrying a wet cloth in his hands.

“Why did you fight for me?” Ianto asked softly, watching as the ‘American’ washed away the dried blood, revealing the pale skin and dark bruises beneath.

“I will always fight for you, Ianto… always,” Jack said, his voice soft and firm and reassuring.

“You shouldn’t have, not after what I did to you, to everyone.” Ianto spoke so softly that even with the extremely small distance between them, Jack almost did not hear.

“I forgave you for that a long time ago.” Jack rubbed the wet cloth over the younger man’s hands, unable to look into those beautiful blue eyes he so loved.  “It may not have been a smart thing to do, but you did it for a good reason. You did it for love; how could I stay angry about that, no matter how foolish it was?”

They sat in silence as Jack tenderly wiped all the grime from Ianto’s hands, up his arms, across his face and around his neck. With almost every inch of cleaned skin, he revealed, even more cuts and bruises were. Jack couldn’t help but think about how close he had been to losing this young man whom he trusted and cared for more and more every day.

Jack started unbuttoning Ianto’s soiled shirt. He knew Ianto’s need for cleanliness and organization well enough to know the young man wanted out of his clothes, needed to be clean, but was too tired and sore to care. As Jack's fingers brushed down Ianto's bare chest, Jack felt Ianto flinch away from the touch.  Immediately, Jack's hand stopped along the path down Ianto shirt. He couldn’t concentrate on his task anymore.

The weight of the world, and of saving it, seemed a crushing burden on Jack’s shoulders after today. He should never have agreed to go out to the countryside; should never have asked Ianto to go with them. Jack had just wanted an easy day outside of the ‘office,’ but he almost lost everything - again.

Slowly, Ianto's hands lifted to hold Jack's as he looked up at Jack with those beautiful, blue eyes.

“Stay with me,” Ianto whispered.

Jack couldn’t speak; he simply nodded in agreement, and then set back to work making Ianto at ease again.

It was not long before Jack got his former lover into some clean, soft pajama bottoms and under his midnight blue duvet. Leaving the bedroom for a moment, Jack returned with a glass of water in one hand and one of Owen’s miracle drugs in the other. Thinking he would have to wake Ianto, he found the young Welshman nowhere near sleep.

“Here Ianto.  You need to take these.” Jack held out the contents in his hands.

“I thought you left,” Ianto said, trembling with fear just before he swallowed the pills.

“I told you I would stay. So I am going to stay right here with you until you tell me to leave, or the world is coming to an end, whichever comes last,”  Jack said it with a half-hearted smile, longing to see it returned, but was saddened when it wasn’t.

“Then come to bed already.” Ianto lifted the covers so Jack could climb in.

Jack swiftly removed his braces, lost his shirt and undershirt, and gently slid beneath the covers of Ianto’s large bed. Drawing Ianto into his arms, Jack savored the moment. It had been so long since Jack had been in this bed, somewhere he thought he would never be again.

“Jack?” Ianto asked a few minutes later, finally regaining his voice after the horrors of the day.

“Humm?”

“Why did you say that?”

“What?”Jack asked, fighting the need for sleep. In this bed, with this man, had always been a place where the captain could sleep without being woken by any of the countless horrors of his past.

“That those are my archives.”

“’Cause you’re the only one brave enough to go down there.”Jack grinned, kissing his lover’s bare shoulder.

“You can be such a twpsyn sometimes, sir.”

Both men had smiles on their faces, content with where they were and who they were with, as they both gave into their exhaustion.


fic, janto, torchwood

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