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eldabeTitle: Some Things Never Change. Some Do.
Author:eldarwannabe
Beta:iceshade
Fandom: Torchwood
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Ianto Jones/Jack Harkness
Notes: Spoilers for Immortal Sins (Miracle Day episode 7)
Summary: An immortal man would sell on the interstellar market for a tidy sum.
Continuity:This assumes that Immortal Sins took place in linear continuity for Jack, as in post-Satellite Five, but before everything we saw in Torchwood except Jack's flashback sequence in Fragments. (Despite the fact that, yes, I agree that makes little sense. It's a Torchwood handwave. *handwave*)
***
Jack gasped alive and his hands were tied above his head. Adrenaline flooded his system before his eyes even adjusted to the gloom, and he swallowed down more air.
"Jack?"
Jack was panting now, panicking. He was hanging, all his weight on his arms, and he twisted before he could think about it. He was going to be shot, he was going to be stabbed, he was going to be electrocuted. Emily was going to take notes, Tish was going to see, Angelo wasn't going to-
"Jack!"
The accent was Welsh, the voice familiar. He was, he was in...
"Jack!"
The 21st century. On Earth. Without the Doctor but in a timeline that wouldn't be wiped away. With Ianto. Ianto Jones.
Jack could make him out a few feet away, sitting awkwardly with his hands behind his back. Jack couldn't tell how he was tied, not yet, but Ianto's voice had already held a thread of panic.
Jack cleared his throat. "Here," he croaked. A stupid thing to say, really, Ianto could probably see him just fine, but it was the first thing Jack could think of.
"Thank god," Ianto muttered, and Jack reminded himself that Ianto was never particularly religious. Not that he had seen. "I think I might be able to get loose soon. Just hold on, yeah?"
Jack straightened, taking his weight off his arms. Hang on them too long and they would dislocate, and Jack could time how long it would take if he thought about it; if he measured the angle of his arms against his own experience and calculated it. But Jack had never been very good at measuring time against his own deaths. Ianto was the first one who cared enough about it to keep track, and Jack never asked him what he found out.
Well, not normally.
"How long?"
"We've been here for over four hours," Ianto said, grunting, "they killed you twice now." Ianto sounded angry at that, and Jack hazily remembered waking up once, sitting down next to Ianto. The first time he died must have been back with the team, when negotiations fell apart.
Ianto wriggled on the ground, and Jack realized his legs were tied as well. That was probably why Ianto hadn't moved closer. These days Jack normally came back to life with the weight of Ianto's arm across his chest or propped up against him in the back of the SUV.
"So, why are we here?" Jack pulled against the bonds. They didn't feel familiar; the texture was alien and patterned. Not rope, not steel. Possibly blenth, but Jack couldn't quite twist his head to see.
"After they–after they killed you, the Y’lnek said you registered as 'non-terrestrial', and they were claiming you as an invalid presence under the Shadow Proclamation. Gwen argued, and Owen tried to shoot them. You...dematerialized."
And Ianto must have grabbed on to him. Y’lnek transfer tech was designed for slave capture. It was better to steal organic material rather than to leave it behind. So they were on a ship. Shit. Jack tried to get his breathing under control silently.
"Fine." Jack tugged again. No change.
"They tied me up after they shot you the second time," Ianto offered, "the knots aren't very impressive, just tight."
Ianto must have tried to stop them. Jack was getting better at reading between the lines.
Jack stretched onto his toes for a second, giving as much slack as possible to his wrists. Gwen was probably negotiating, but Owen and Tosh would have already pulled the Big Gun by now. Y’lnek were difficult to predict. It all depended on tribal affiliations and perceptions of honor. If Gwen was lucky, she might be able to get them back soon. Jack would prefer not to have to hijack the whole ship; it would be a pain to dismantle and too large to store anywhere.
"Ha!" Ianto pulled his arms out from behind his back, and started immediately on his feet. The rope was still tied around one wrist, and Jack could see the loose end flapping around, even in the dim light.
"Ianto, the transport beamers should be located between here and the bridge."
"Not far then," Ianto said, hunched over.
"You should go and try to get back to Earth. Maybe try to bring a hostage to exchange."
Ianto didn't even respond, just pulled off his right shoe and started trying to work the rope down his ankle.
"Or get Tosh to figure out if she can reverse the beam and bring me back. She could use the energy readings off of you."
Ianto pulled off his sock and worked at the knot before pulling the rope down again. He was trying to squeeze it past his heel.
"Ianto, it would be safer for you-"
Ianto stood up, the thick rope still looped around his left ankle, his right shoe jammed back on hastily. He walked over to Jack and stretched up, reaching for the cuffs on Jacks wrists. One tug, and his hands jerked back.
Ah, blenth. Able to hold a shocking electric charge as well as being an unbending polymer.
Ianto stuck his fingertips in his mouth as he eyes the cuffs. He reached up and gently twisted Jack's wrist around to see how the cuffs were locked. Jack could feel the part of the cuff that gave slightly, where the keyhole was, and Ianto stood on his toes to try and see better.
"I need a lockpick," he muttered, brows furrowing.
Jack suppressed the urge to flinch away. This was Ianto, and he was trying to rescue them. He wasn't even holding a weapon. Jack inhaled deeply, breathing in his scent. 21st century soap and water and shampoo.
There were pounding footsteps in the hall, in the one-two-three pattern of Y’lnek in boots.
"Ianto..." Jack urged. Ianto started patting down his own pockets.
The thunks got louder, and Jack could feel the tension chilling his bones. Every thumpthumpTHUMP meant that he was three steps closer to another death. Slower this time, more painful, because he was already tied up and powerless. Something touched him, and Jack jerked back. Ianto froze, his hands stopped where they had been reaching for Jack's pockets. "I'm just looking for-"
The door banged open. Three Y'lnek came in the door, projectile phasers drawn. Ianto turned around slowly, hands in the air.
"Move," the Y'lnek in green ordered.
Ianto took a step forward, still between Jack and the Y'lnek.
"To the side," the Y'lnek added.
Ianto took another step forward.
The Y'lnek raised their guns at Ianto, who stopped.
Jack twisted again, pulling at his wrists helplessly. They were going to shoot at him, kill him slowly and Ianto was going to stand there, because Jack would always come back and Ianto wouldn't. Ianto might plead or might not, and Jack was trapped, and...
Ianto didn't move.
"No."
Jack felt sick, gagging on the rising guilt and fear twisting together. Ianto was going to die, and it would be his fault. Ianto was going to lie there, twisted and broken, and Jack was going to be in so much pain and it was never going to end, was it?
Ianto only had a second to tense himself before one of the Y'lnek twisted the gun trigger to shoot. Jack hunched his shoulders in anticipation of Ianto moving to the side, of the spreading heat of Y'lnek projectiles.
And then Ianto threw himself forward.
The shot went wide and then Ianto was on the ground with a Y'lnek, wrestling viciously.
Y'lnek had three legs and four arms, and Jack could hardly see what was happening in the mess of limbs. One of the other Y'lnek rushed over, and there was no way in hell Ianto could fight off two of them. Jack couldn't tear his eyes away. The standing Y'lnek grabbed the rope hanging off Ianto's ankle and tugged. Ianto screamed and threw himself sideways, using his weight to pull the standing Y'lnek off-balance onto the Y'lnek on the ground. Holding fast to the rope, the Y'lnek dropped his gun and it slid across the floor.
Ianto twisted himself around on his back, kicking with both legs to try and force himself the few last inches forward to grab the grip of the gun.
The moment his fingers closed around the trigger, Ianto shot a blind blast between his legs. The Y'lnek let go of the rope in favor of scrambling away. With a grunt, Ianto pulled himself to his feet and aimed the gun at the standing Y'lnek.
"Let. Him. Go."
The Y'lnek didn't move. After a beat, Ianto squeezed the trigger, jerking the gun away at the last second so the shot missed by a breath. Then he aimed the gun again.
"Now."
The standing Y'lnek lifted a digital remote and twisted a knob. Jack felt the manacles click open, and his arms fell to his side too heavy to lift. And then Ianto was there, not touching him, just there, a worried look on his face. The hand not holding the gun was held out, palm up. Jack looked at it.
"Are you all right, Jack?"
Jack rolled his shoulders. Not too bad, a little strained. His wrists were only chafed because he had pulled on them, not because he had hung by them for days, and Ianto had a tear in his coat and his tie was gone and his face was red and flushed. Not standing and watching. Jack took his hand.
"I don't know where the beamers are on the ship," Ianto said. Jack focused on Ianto's hand, warm and firm. He let himself be pulled from the room where the Y'lnek were watching them warily. Ianto pulled the cell door closed after Jack and shot the handle on a low power setting to melt it closed.
Then Ianto looked both ways down the hall worriedly.
"We don't need the beamers," Jack said, slowly, "we're on Earth somewhere."
Ianto looked at him, his brows knitting slightly, "how can you tell?"
Jack lifted his free arm slightly, and let it fall; "gravity." The Y'lnek planet was larger and heavier than Earth, and they calibrated their artificial gravity accordingly. Jack should have noticed it earlier, should have been more alert.
Ianto nodded and pulled Jack down the hall. Jack followed him, letting his eyes pass over the doors and hallways until he realized Ianto was following the intergalactic emergency exit signs. Ianto shot two Y'lnek as they passed before they had even registered the presence of intruders. That was unusual. Ianto was typically more even-tempered.
Jack's shoulder blades itched, and he rolled his shoulders again. Ianto's grip tightened, and he pulled Jack faster, and then they were running. Running and stumbling through an open hatch and they both fell the twenty-foot drop together, landing in thick, wild grass.
***
Later, Jack would read the mission report and find out how Ianto called for backup while he bluffed the Y'lnek that Jack was in fact assigned to Earth by the Shadow Proclamation and if the Y'lnek didn't leave, Ianto would be forced to summon a local representative to negotiate. Between that and Tosh on the Big Gun in the SUV with Gwen and Owen, the Y'lnek eventually left.
Jack spent most of it in a daze, and Ianto shoved him down into the long grass when he tried to stand. Jack could hear the negotiations, but Ianto wasn't selling him to three strangers with calculating eyes and Jack tried to forget he ever remembered.
It was dark by the time Ianto led Jack back to his flat, stripped him to his pants, and put him to bed. Jack sat against the headboard and rubbed his wrists. Small harms always healed slower. And he hadn't died since he was hung up, so it was going to stay. On the Valiant, he’d died before the Doctor reset the universe, so close that his bruises never set. He’d thrown himself off a roof after Angelo—the first time he could remember committing suicide on purpose. Not to heal faster, but to try and run away for a moment of welcome darkness.
And now he could feel the bruises forming, the skin cut and chaffed where he had pulled and twisted. Stupid, really. Jack rubbed.
"Stop, Jack."
Ianto was sitting in front of him. His accent was deeper with exhaustion, and neither English nor Italian. Ianto was holding bandages and Owen's salve; the one Owen kept in constant supply after the Beacons. Ianto kept some in the toilet between his shaving cream and a bottle of paracetamol.
Jack watched dumbly while Ianto gently rubbed the salve into his skin and wrapped the cotton bandage around Jack's wrists, not too tight, but not too loose either. Ianto capped the salve and put it on his bedside table and coaxed Jack to lie down, standing up to pull the duvet over Jack.
Ianto turned off the overhead light, and the streetlights from outside cast misshapen shadows across the floor. But Jack wasn't afraid of the dark, even as he lay rigid and unsleeping in the bed as Ianto climbed in.
Ianto seemed to wait a moment, and then he turned to curl around Jack, throwing an arm across Jack's chest in a familiar gesture.
Ianto kissed the corner of Jack's jaw sleepily, and Jack wanted to reach up and touch it, to marvel at the moment of non-sexual affection. But Ianto shifted, his arm tightening across Jack's torso more possessively, and Jack's arms were trapped. Yet they were still comfortable, one at his side and the other pressed between himself and Ianto. One swift tug would send Ianto flying, and would give him both arms to move at will.
Instead, he let his fingers gently scratch Ianto's stomach awkwardly, and Ianto huffed.
"Go to sleep Jack," he mumbled, and Jack let the vowels roll over him as his eyes slipped shut.
Author:
eldarwannabeBeta:
iceshadeFandom: Torchwood
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Ianto Jones/Jack Harkness
Notes: Spoilers for Immortal Sins (Miracle Day episode 7)
Summary: An immortal man would sell on the interstellar market for a tidy sum.
Continuity:This assumes that Immortal Sins took place in linear continuity for Jack, as in post-Satellite Five, but before everything we saw in Torchwood except Jack's flashback sequence in Fragments. (Despite the fact that, yes, I agree that makes little sense. It's a Torchwood handwave. *handwave*)
***
Jack gasped alive and his hands were tied above his head. Adrenaline flooded his system before his eyes even adjusted to the gloom, and he swallowed down more air.
"Jack?"
Jack was panting now, panicking. He was hanging, all his weight on his arms, and he twisted before he could think about it. He was going to be shot, he was going to be stabbed, he was going to be electrocuted. Emily was going to take notes, Tish was going to see, Angelo wasn't going to-
"Jack!"
The accent was Welsh, the voice familiar. He was, he was in...
"Jack!"
The 21st century. On Earth. Without the Doctor but in a timeline that wouldn't be wiped away. With Ianto. Ianto Jones.
Jack could make him out a few feet away, sitting awkwardly with his hands behind his back. Jack couldn't tell how he was tied, not yet, but Ianto's voice had already held a thread of panic.
Jack cleared his throat. "Here," he croaked. A stupid thing to say, really, Ianto could probably see him just fine, but it was the first thing Jack could think of.
"Thank god," Ianto muttered, and Jack reminded himself that Ianto was never particularly religious. Not that he had seen. "I think I might be able to get loose soon. Just hold on, yeah?"
Jack straightened, taking his weight off his arms. Hang on them too long and they would dislocate, and Jack could time how long it would take if he thought about it; if he measured the angle of his arms against his own experience and calculated it. But Jack had never been very good at measuring time against his own deaths. Ianto was the first one who cared enough about it to keep track, and Jack never asked him what he found out.
Well, not normally.
"How long?"
"We've been here for over four hours," Ianto said, grunting, "they killed you twice now." Ianto sounded angry at that, and Jack hazily remembered waking up once, sitting down next to Ianto. The first time he died must have been back with the team, when negotiations fell apart.
Ianto wriggled on the ground, and Jack realized his legs were tied as well. That was probably why Ianto hadn't moved closer. These days Jack normally came back to life with the weight of Ianto's arm across his chest or propped up against him in the back of the SUV.
"So, why are we here?" Jack pulled against the bonds. They didn't feel familiar; the texture was alien and patterned. Not rope, not steel. Possibly blenth, but Jack couldn't quite twist his head to see.
"After they–after they killed you, the Y’lnek said you registered as 'non-terrestrial', and they were claiming you as an invalid presence under the Shadow Proclamation. Gwen argued, and Owen tried to shoot them. You...dematerialized."
And Ianto must have grabbed on to him. Y’lnek transfer tech was designed for slave capture. It was better to steal organic material rather than to leave it behind. So they were on a ship. Shit. Jack tried to get his breathing under control silently.
"Fine." Jack tugged again. No change.
"They tied me up after they shot you the second time," Ianto offered, "the knots aren't very impressive, just tight."
Ianto must have tried to stop them. Jack was getting better at reading between the lines.
Jack stretched onto his toes for a second, giving as much slack as possible to his wrists. Gwen was probably negotiating, but Owen and Tosh would have already pulled the Big Gun by now. Y’lnek were difficult to predict. It all depended on tribal affiliations and perceptions of honor. If Gwen was lucky, she might be able to get them back soon. Jack would prefer not to have to hijack the whole ship; it would be a pain to dismantle and too large to store anywhere.
"Ha!" Ianto pulled his arms out from behind his back, and started immediately on his feet. The rope was still tied around one wrist, and Jack could see the loose end flapping around, even in the dim light.
"Ianto, the transport beamers should be located between here and the bridge."
"Not far then," Ianto said, hunched over.
"You should go and try to get back to Earth. Maybe try to bring a hostage to exchange."
Ianto didn't even respond, just pulled off his right shoe and started trying to work the rope down his ankle.
"Or get Tosh to figure out if she can reverse the beam and bring me back. She could use the energy readings off of you."
Ianto pulled off his sock and worked at the knot before pulling the rope down again. He was trying to squeeze it past his heel.
"Ianto, it would be safer for you-"
Ianto stood up, the thick rope still looped around his left ankle, his right shoe jammed back on hastily. He walked over to Jack and stretched up, reaching for the cuffs on Jacks wrists. One tug, and his hands jerked back.
Ah, blenth. Able to hold a shocking electric charge as well as being an unbending polymer.
Ianto stuck his fingertips in his mouth as he eyes the cuffs. He reached up and gently twisted Jack's wrist around to see how the cuffs were locked. Jack could feel the part of the cuff that gave slightly, where the keyhole was, and Ianto stood on his toes to try and see better.
"I need a lockpick," he muttered, brows furrowing.
Jack suppressed the urge to flinch away. This was Ianto, and he was trying to rescue them. He wasn't even holding a weapon. Jack inhaled deeply, breathing in his scent. 21st century soap and water and shampoo.
There were pounding footsteps in the hall, in the one-two-three pattern of Y’lnek in boots.
"Ianto..." Jack urged. Ianto started patting down his own pockets.
The thunks got louder, and Jack could feel the tension chilling his bones. Every thumpthumpTHUMP meant that he was three steps closer to another death. Slower this time, more painful, because he was already tied up and powerless. Something touched him, and Jack jerked back. Ianto froze, his hands stopped where they had been reaching for Jack's pockets. "I'm just looking for-"
The door banged open. Three Y'lnek came in the door, projectile phasers drawn. Ianto turned around slowly, hands in the air.
"Move," the Y'lnek in green ordered.
Ianto took a step forward, still between Jack and the Y'lnek.
"To the side," the Y'lnek added.
Ianto took another step forward.
The Y'lnek raised their guns at Ianto, who stopped.
Jack twisted again, pulling at his wrists helplessly. They were going to shoot at him, kill him slowly and Ianto was going to stand there, because Jack would always come back and Ianto wouldn't. Ianto might plead or might not, and Jack was trapped, and...
Ianto didn't move.
"No."
Jack felt sick, gagging on the rising guilt and fear twisting together. Ianto was going to die, and it would be his fault. Ianto was going to lie there, twisted and broken, and Jack was going to be in so much pain and it was never going to end, was it?
Ianto only had a second to tense himself before one of the Y'lnek twisted the gun trigger to shoot. Jack hunched his shoulders in anticipation of Ianto moving to the side, of the spreading heat of Y'lnek projectiles.
And then Ianto threw himself forward.
The shot went wide and then Ianto was on the ground with a Y'lnek, wrestling viciously.
Y'lnek had three legs and four arms, and Jack could hardly see what was happening in the mess of limbs. One of the other Y'lnek rushed over, and there was no way in hell Ianto could fight off two of them. Jack couldn't tear his eyes away. The standing Y'lnek grabbed the rope hanging off Ianto's ankle and tugged. Ianto screamed and threw himself sideways, using his weight to pull the standing Y'lnek off-balance onto the Y'lnek on the ground. Holding fast to the rope, the Y'lnek dropped his gun and it slid across the floor.
Ianto twisted himself around on his back, kicking with both legs to try and force himself the few last inches forward to grab the grip of the gun.
The moment his fingers closed around the trigger, Ianto shot a blind blast between his legs. The Y'lnek let go of the rope in favor of scrambling away. With a grunt, Ianto pulled himself to his feet and aimed the gun at the standing Y'lnek.
"Let. Him. Go."
The Y'lnek didn't move. After a beat, Ianto squeezed the trigger, jerking the gun away at the last second so the shot missed by a breath. Then he aimed the gun again.
"Now."
The standing Y'lnek lifted a digital remote and twisted a knob. Jack felt the manacles click open, and his arms fell to his side too heavy to lift. And then Ianto was there, not touching him, just there, a worried look on his face. The hand not holding the gun was held out, palm up. Jack looked at it.
"Are you all right, Jack?"
Jack rolled his shoulders. Not too bad, a little strained. His wrists were only chafed because he had pulled on them, not because he had hung by them for days, and Ianto had a tear in his coat and his tie was gone and his face was red and flushed. Not standing and watching. Jack took his hand.
"I don't know where the beamers are on the ship," Ianto said. Jack focused on Ianto's hand, warm and firm. He let himself be pulled from the room where the Y'lnek were watching them warily. Ianto pulled the cell door closed after Jack and shot the handle on a low power setting to melt it closed.
Then Ianto looked both ways down the hall worriedly.
"We don't need the beamers," Jack said, slowly, "we're on Earth somewhere."
Ianto looked at him, his brows knitting slightly, "how can you tell?"
Jack lifted his free arm slightly, and let it fall; "gravity." The Y'lnek planet was larger and heavier than Earth, and they calibrated their artificial gravity accordingly. Jack should have noticed it earlier, should have been more alert.
Ianto nodded and pulled Jack down the hall. Jack followed him, letting his eyes pass over the doors and hallways until he realized Ianto was following the intergalactic emergency exit signs. Ianto shot two Y'lnek as they passed before they had even registered the presence of intruders. That was unusual. Ianto was typically more even-tempered.
Jack's shoulder blades itched, and he rolled his shoulders again. Ianto's grip tightened, and he pulled Jack faster, and then they were running. Running and stumbling through an open hatch and they both fell the twenty-foot drop together, landing in thick, wild grass.
***
Later, Jack would read the mission report and find out how Ianto called for backup while he bluffed the Y'lnek that Jack was in fact assigned to Earth by the Shadow Proclamation and if the Y'lnek didn't leave, Ianto would be forced to summon a local representative to negotiate. Between that and Tosh on the Big Gun in the SUV with Gwen and Owen, the Y'lnek eventually left.
Jack spent most of it in a daze, and Ianto shoved him down into the long grass when he tried to stand. Jack could hear the negotiations, but Ianto wasn't selling him to three strangers with calculating eyes and Jack tried to forget he ever remembered.
It was dark by the time Ianto led Jack back to his flat, stripped him to his pants, and put him to bed. Jack sat against the headboard and rubbed his wrists. Small harms always healed slower. And he hadn't died since he was hung up, so it was going to stay. On the Valiant, he’d died before the Doctor reset the universe, so close that his bruises never set. He’d thrown himself off a roof after Angelo—the first time he could remember committing suicide on purpose. Not to heal faster, but to try and run away for a moment of welcome darkness.
And now he could feel the bruises forming, the skin cut and chaffed where he had pulled and twisted. Stupid, really. Jack rubbed.
"Stop, Jack."
Ianto was sitting in front of him. His accent was deeper with exhaustion, and neither English nor Italian. Ianto was holding bandages and Owen's salve; the one Owen kept in constant supply after the Beacons. Ianto kept some in the toilet between his shaving cream and a bottle of paracetamol.
Jack watched dumbly while Ianto gently rubbed the salve into his skin and wrapped the cotton bandage around Jack's wrists, not too tight, but not too loose either. Ianto capped the salve and put it on his bedside table and coaxed Jack to lie down, standing up to pull the duvet over Jack.
Ianto turned off the overhead light, and the streetlights from outside cast misshapen shadows across the floor. But Jack wasn't afraid of the dark, even as he lay rigid and unsleeping in the bed as Ianto climbed in.
Ianto seemed to wait a moment, and then he turned to curl around Jack, throwing an arm across Jack's chest in a familiar gesture.
Ianto kissed the corner of Jack's jaw sleepily, and Jack wanted to reach up and touch it, to marvel at the moment of non-sexual affection. But Ianto shifted, his arm tightening across Jack's torso more possessively, and Jack's arms were trapped. Yet they were still comfortable, one at his side and the other pressed between himself and Ianto. One swift tug would send Ianto flying, and would give him both arms to move at will.
Instead, he let his fingers gently scratch Ianto's stomach awkwardly, and Ianto huffed.
"Go to sleep Jack," he mumbled, and Jack let the vowels roll over him as his eyes slipped shut.
