Fic - Violated (Chapter 8)
Title: Violated
Author: Carole B.
Series: Torchwood
Characters: Gwen Cooper, Ianto Jones, Jack Harkness, PC Andy Davidson, Owen Harper
Pairings: Ianto/Jack, Owen/Other
Gen/Het/Slash: Het, Slash
Warnings: Torture, Forced Sex, Violence, Language
Rating: R/NC-17 for the Prologue
Crossover: None
Word Count: 15,600
Beta: Time Hound
Summary: A serial killer has been flouncing around Cardiff, using the name Jack Harkness. When the team starts investigating the murders, they have doubt whether it is really Jack or not. To their shock, they find out it is someone really close to them, someone who shouldn’t exist.
Author’s Notes: Written for the 2011 tw-bigbang. Big thank you to my awesome artist hollymarchosias. Thanks to my friends who pushed this to get down, and thanks to Liz who gave me last minute line changes. The Prologue is very dark and graphic - if you wish you can skip over the Prologue and start with Chapter 1.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Artwork by hollymarchosias
Chapter 8
Jack didn’t know why he continued to sit outside of the Turnmill Nuclear Power Plant when he had a killer on the loose that only Torchwood would be able to take care of. Of course they would take care of it, they always took care of their own, no matter what that included. Jack let out a sigh, slumping down in the seat. Whatever it was that was terrorising the city had started here, he could feel it.
Looking out at the plant, peering over the steering wheel, Jack thought about what was left of his team. Gwen looked exhausted, so Jack had sent her home early; maybe some time with Rhys would help clear her mind. Ianto had disappeared hours ago, to where, Jack had no clue. All he had seen on CCTV footage was Ianto enter his flat and 30 minutes later exit it, dressed in jeans, a shirt, and jacket. He had lost track of him by the University.
His mind drifted to Owen and Toshiko. They had been like family to him. He was old enough, they could have been his great-grandkids, but it was more like he was their older sibling. Toshiko was great at what she did, and if given some time, she would have been so much more. He had so much he still wanted to teach her, things that were old hat by the century he had grown up in, but they would have amazed her and then Toshiko would have set about making them work in the here and now. Jack smiled wistfully as he could see her face light up with the challenge. She was never beautiful as she was then.
Turnmill stared back at him, dark and foreboding. He shook as if he could feel its cold reaching out for him. He should have been the one inside the nuclear plant - he would have survived. Granted, the team would have been without him for a bit, but then they wouldn’t have lost Owen, and even Tosh might have survived. He held the guilt for their deaths in the bowels of his soul.
Jack hopped out of the SUV and headed straight for the gate. He looked in, trying to see answers in the shadows of the building. Could Owen have survived? It didn’t seem possible, but then again, he had seen many impossible things in his lifetimes. He started walking clockwise around the building, letting his fingers trail along the rough, pockmarked cement. The building had lasted years, and because of their sacrifice it would last many years longer - and so would the city.
A tear fell down his cheek as he spied the wing where the nuclear waste had vented. He had hoped, once upon a time, that the readings had been wrong and Tosh was able to stop the venting in time. Yet, on actual inspection of the site, he knew. Owen had been trapped, and unlike him being buried alive, Owen hadn’t had the reprieve of death to break things up.
There was a flash of light above Turnmill. It caught Jack’s eye and he stared up at it, flipping open his vortex manipulator, hoping to get a read on what it was. It didn’t look Eart-
Jack slowly sat up in the driver’s seat of the SUV, a headache lancing through his skull. He slowly brought his left hand up to his temple, idly wondering if he shot himself in the head if that would make the pain go away. Cracking his eyes open against the sunrise he saw the flap to his wrist strap swaying open. His mind began to reconstruct the events from the previous night as he focused his eyes on the readout from the scan he had started. Jack couldn’t remember getting to the SUV, but he did recall a sudden blinding pain and…
Staring at the readout, his stomach seemed to drop through the floor. That would explain the theron radiation. Turning his head to the side, Jack saw his Webley revolver lying on the seat next to him. He picked up, checking the chamber. There were two bullets missing.
Snapping the chamber back into place, he slid the revolver into its holster. Jack tried to shuttle the pain to the back of his mind as he scrambled out of the SUV and ran for the spot along Turnmill where he had been attacked. He ran his hands along the cement wall, but nothing felt out of the ordinary. Flipping open the vortex manipulator he scanned for the metal that would match the bullets in his Webley. The only bullets that registered were in his gun.
“At least I went down fighting,” Jack mumbled as he slowly ambled back to the vehicle. Whatever had attacked him used his distraction with their ‘decoy’ to knock him unconscious. The only good thing was knowing he had gotten two shots into whatever - or whoever - it was. He crawled back into the driver’s seat, laying his head against the steering wheel. There were some answers, but where they were leading was not what he wanted.
CHAPTER NINE
Author: Carole B.
Series: Torchwood
Characters: Gwen Cooper, Ianto Jones, Jack Harkness, PC Andy Davidson, Owen Harper
Pairings: Ianto/Jack, Owen/Other
Gen/Het/Slash: Het, Slash
Warnings: Torture, Forced Sex, Violence, Language
Rating: R/NC-17 for the Prologue
Crossover: None
Word Count: 15,600
Beta: Time Hound
Summary: A serial killer has been flouncing around Cardiff, using the name Jack Harkness. When the team starts investigating the murders, they have doubt whether it is really Jack or not. To their shock, they find out it is someone really close to them, someone who shouldn’t exist.
Author’s Notes: Written for the 2011 tw-bigbang. Big thank you to my awesome artist hollymarchosias. Thanks to my friends who pushed this to get down, and thanks to Liz who gave me last minute line changes. The Prologue is very dark and graphic - if you wish you can skip over the Prologue and start with Chapter 1.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Artwork by hollymarchosias
Chapter 8
Jack didn’t know why he continued to sit outside of the Turnmill Nuclear Power Plant when he had a killer on the loose that only Torchwood would be able to take care of. Of course they would take care of it, they always took care of their own, no matter what that included. Jack let out a sigh, slumping down in the seat. Whatever it was that was terrorising the city had started here, he could feel it.
Looking out at the plant, peering over the steering wheel, Jack thought about what was left of his team. Gwen looked exhausted, so Jack had sent her home early; maybe some time with Rhys would help clear her mind. Ianto had disappeared hours ago, to where, Jack had no clue. All he had seen on CCTV footage was Ianto enter his flat and 30 minutes later exit it, dressed in jeans, a shirt, and jacket. He had lost track of him by the University.
His mind drifted to Owen and Toshiko. They had been like family to him. He was old enough, they could have been his great-grandkids, but it was more like he was their older sibling. Toshiko was great at what she did, and if given some time, she would have been so much more. He had so much he still wanted to teach her, things that were old hat by the century he had grown up in, but they would have amazed her and then Toshiko would have set about making them work in the here and now. Jack smiled wistfully as he could see her face light up with the challenge. She was never beautiful as she was then.
Turnmill stared back at him, dark and foreboding. He shook as if he could feel its cold reaching out for him. He should have been the one inside the nuclear plant - he would have survived. Granted, the team would have been without him for a bit, but then they wouldn’t have lost Owen, and even Tosh might have survived. He held the guilt for their deaths in the bowels of his soul.
Jack hopped out of the SUV and headed straight for the gate. He looked in, trying to see answers in the shadows of the building. Could Owen have survived? It didn’t seem possible, but then again, he had seen many impossible things in his lifetimes. He started walking clockwise around the building, letting his fingers trail along the rough, pockmarked cement. The building had lasted years, and because of their sacrifice it would last many years longer - and so would the city.
A tear fell down his cheek as he spied the wing where the nuclear waste had vented. He had hoped, once upon a time, that the readings had been wrong and Tosh was able to stop the venting in time. Yet, on actual inspection of the site, he knew. Owen had been trapped, and unlike him being buried alive, Owen hadn’t had the reprieve of death to break things up.
There was a flash of light above Turnmill. It caught Jack’s eye and he stared up at it, flipping open his vortex manipulator, hoping to get a read on what it was. It didn’t look Eart-
Jack slowly sat up in the driver’s seat of the SUV, a headache lancing through his skull. He slowly brought his left hand up to his temple, idly wondering if he shot himself in the head if that would make the pain go away. Cracking his eyes open against the sunrise he saw the flap to his wrist strap swaying open. His mind began to reconstruct the events from the previous night as he focused his eyes on the readout from the scan he had started. Jack couldn’t remember getting to the SUV, but he did recall a sudden blinding pain and…
Staring at the readout, his stomach seemed to drop through the floor. That would explain the theron radiation. Turning his head to the side, Jack saw his Webley revolver lying on the seat next to him. He picked up, checking the chamber. There were two bullets missing.
Snapping the chamber back into place, he slid the revolver into its holster. Jack tried to shuttle the pain to the back of his mind as he scrambled out of the SUV and ran for the spot along Turnmill where he had been attacked. He ran his hands along the cement wall, but nothing felt out of the ordinary. Flipping open the vortex manipulator he scanned for the metal that would match the bullets in his Webley. The only bullets that registered were in his gun.
“At least I went down fighting,” Jack mumbled as he slowly ambled back to the vehicle. Whatever had attacked him used his distraction with their ‘decoy’ to knock him unconscious. The only good thing was knowing he had gotten two shots into whatever - or whoever - it was. He crawled back into the driver’s seat, laying his head against the steering wheel. There were some answers, but where they were leading was not what he wanted.
CHAPTER NINE