Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde - Torchwood Style Chapter 2
Title: Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde - Torchwood Style (I know… it's a crap title but for now it's better than untitled) (2/?)
Author: chester_kat
Rating: Probably just R for the first one but NC-17 for the rest
Spoilers/Setting: I guess to be on the safe side it contains a spoiler for S2 but it's AU anyway so it's pretty safe.
Pairing: Jack/Ianto (who else?)
Genre: AU (I don't write fast enough to keep up with canon),
Disclaimer: I own nothing. At all.
Warnings: Contains dark themes, swearing, slash (duh) and later on a small mention of torture and bondage but not anything too graphic
Summary: Just like the crappy title suggests. It is the story of Jekyll/Hyde but with a Torchwood twist.
See Author's notes for more details.
Feedback: Is like oxygen. The more I get the more light headed and happy I become.
Much praise and all credit goes to madtheo - the best beta/cheerleader/whip cracker a writer could ask for. =)
“Suddenly, uncontrolled, something is taking hold. Suddenly…Agony!…filling me…killing me? Suddenly…out of breath. What is this? Is this death? Suddenly… look at me… Can it be? Who is this…creature…that I see……free…
- Dr Jekyll/Mr Hyde
After Jack left, Ianto set about cleaning the hub. Though many things had changed since Jack’s disappearance and subsequent reappearance, one element remained the same. No one on the team, save Ianto, seemed to know how to put their empty mugs in the sink and rubbish in the bins.
He took to his task in a diligent and well rehearsed routine, its familiarity providing him with a sort of perverse pleasure. In a way, it assured him that his place as part of the Torchwood team would always be there. Without his stringent discipline and need for order when it came to the archives and the hub’s general appearance, he knew without a doubt that the hub and it’s inhabitants would soon fall into a sort of disorganised chaos. He worked behind the scenes and after hours to ensure that the hub and its facilities worked as a well, oiled machine. He didn’t always get recognition for his efforts but he was rewarded for it in other ways. So he was satisfied enough to continue on in the same way he always had. He wasn’t always happy, but for once he felt content
When he had finished, Jack had still not returned and Ianto’s thoughts drifted to the mirror. He couldn’t describe it but there was something about the mirror that drew him like a moth to a flame. When they had first found the mirror he had felt an uncontrollable urge to be near it, a feeling that had steadily grown the more time he spent within its close proximity. Unconsciously he found himself wandering towards the autopsy bay.
Making his way down the stairs, he saw that the sheet Jack had carelessly used as a cover had slipped off and now lay crumpled on the floor. Ianto bent down to pick it up but in doing so noticed something move behind him in the reflection of the mirror. He stood up and looked behind him but didn’t see anything.
“Jack?” he called, but silence was his only answer. He was sure he had seen something, or someone, (a shadow perhaps?) move behind him. He contemplated going back up into the main hub to investigate further but he was suddenly struck by how cold it had become. The autopsy bay had never been known for inducing warm fuzzy feelings but Ianto gasped as he felt the cold seep through his clothes and send shivers down his spine. He felt the chill settle in his bones and it made him ache all over. It was an unnatural cold and he instinctively knew what was behind it.
As he turned back to the mirror he saw that all around him in his reflection was dark like storm clouds gathering force and blocking out the sun. As he turned back to the mirror he saw a gathering darkness surrounding his reflection, like storm clouds knitting together to block out the sun. He watched in horror as he saw his image started to change before his eyes. His features became sharper and darker, the pupil of his eyes growing impossibly larger and the shadows on his face becoming more prominent in the dark lighting. Ianto was half horrified, half mesmerised by the change. The figure in the mirror now held a dark beauty, one that made him want to turn away in fear while at the same time gaze upon it in tremulous adoration. This new manifestation was no longer a reflection of him but of something much darker.
Ianto stood transfixed as his reflection changed, unable to take his eyes away from what he was seeing. In his head he could hear a voice speaking in a language that he had never heard before. The voice grew louder and Ianto realised he could hear it both on the inside, as well as the outside, of his mind. He gripped his head in his hands in a futile effort to block out some of the noise but it continued to get louder and louder, the same words repeating over and over again in his mind, assaulting his ears and overpowering his senses.
Dark and disturbing images filled his mind and Ianto squeezed his eyes shut in a fight to block them out but it was no use. The horrible myriad of images burned into his psyche. Death, violence and acts of pure evil that brought with it feelings and emotions the like of which Ianto had never felt before and hoped to never feel again. While part of him was appalled and sickened by what he was seeing, a small part of him, a part that seemed to rise from the darkest recesses of his mind was amused and found delight in the images he was being assaulted with.
Opening his eyes he realised that the surrounding his reflection had seeped out of the mirror and was starting to envelope him as well. He clawed at it as if it was something tangible but he only grabbed at air. He opened his mouth to yell and the darkness poured into his mouth and down his throat. He felt it fill him, chilling him, turning his insides to ice and constricting his heart making it difficult to breathe.
The feeling of iciness didn’t last long though and Ianto cried out and doubled over in pain. The pain was intense and came on quickly, spreading from his heart throughout his body. He cried out again as he felt the blood in his veins turn to liquid fire. The powerful pull of the pain caused him to fling his arms out in a desperate attempt to reach for something, anything that could help relieve the burning but he only succeed in sending instruments on the autopsy table flying across the room. Tears sprung to his eyes making them burn as the fire he felt inside threatened to consume him. He fell to his knees, unable to hold himself upright any longer. He was sure he was dying. He struggled to take a breath and looked up, locking eyes with his reflection in the mirror. The last thing Ianto saw before he let the pain engulf him was his reflection looking down at him, smiling.
***********
Idris opened his eyes and smiled. He was looking at the ceiling of the autopsy bay. He groaned slightly as he heaved himself off the floor and into a standing position. He turned and looked at himself in the mirror, his smile widening. He drank in the sight before him. His reflection was beautiful. Dark hair, perhaps a little more so than the original, his eyes much darker than before but they now with the added benefit of a deeper, more powerful depth and gaze. His features, sharp and sombre but still strikingly beautiful. A well defined, trim and relatively taut body. He clenched and unclenched his fists, relishing the feeling of power coursing through his veins. A flawless specimen.
He chuckled softly, feeling the vibrations rumble in his chest. He felt the laughter bubbling up to the surface and he opened his mouth to release it. There was no trace of mirth in his laughter. Instead it was a laughter born of relief and pent up frustration now liberated A sinister tone lined the edges of it and to anyone listening it would have had the resonance of a man who was completely deranged. His laughter echoed off the walls of the autopsy bay and seemed to fill the entire hub.
He had done it. After years of repression and control he had finally gained the power needed to take the upper hand. He took in a deep breath and it held the sweetest smell he had ever encountered. It was the heady smell of victory.
“Free!” He screamed, his laughter reaching its crescendo. “FREE!”