The Ties That Bind (30/34 + epilogue)
Title: The Ties That Bind 30
Beta:Blackcat1000
Characters/Pairings: Jack/Ianto, Donna, John Hart, Owen and James Harper, Mickey/Martha, Toshiko/Tommy, Claudia, Phillip, Suzie, Saxon, Rhiannon, OCs
Rating: NC-17
WordCount: 75K+
Warnings/Contains: Explicit sex (does that need a warning?), witchcraft, horror, supernatural themes, minor character death.
Summary: Ianto is a powerful magical warrior, one which Jack Harkness has never been able to resist. Once enemies, then almost lovers, he broke his heart. Years later, Jack must return to his hometown and seek help before it is too late. Jack and Ianto must now put aside their past and work together to defeat an evil threatening to overwhelm and take control of Jack because of his unique bloodline. Secrets and foretold prophecies will plague them and in this paranormal battle, they will need more than magic to survive.
A/N: Bit of a climax here. Maybe I should give a tissue warning...
Chapter Thirty
Ianto couldn’t believe his eyes.
“No,” he croaked, a shout of frustration rumbling in his throat as he spotted Jack and John walking toward him, while the desolate environment of the Outer Rim spread out for miles behind them.
“I knew Harkness would come for you. It was only a matter of time,” the Master purred in his ear. He held him locked against the front of his body, one arm wrapped across his torso, the other around his throat. His hands were trapped behind his back, bound with a length of cord the Master had taken from his pocket, his wrists were already worn raw from his struggles to break free.
Considering he was literally in Hell, the place wasn’t nearly as horrific as Ianto had imagined it would be. But then, this was just the Outer Rim, and he knew the deeper in you travelled, the more hellish it became.
But here, there were no monsters. Except for the one standing at his back.
The setting reminded him of the desert, only with a sky that was blood-red instead of blue. Beneath his bare feet, the ground was covered in blisteringly hot sand, and there were huge outcroppings of red, jagged rock dotting the landscape for as far as the eye could see. Ianto had been staring across that rugged landscape since he and the Master had arrived, filled with fear, but thankful for the fact that Rhiannon had found a way to save Jack.
And then he’d suddenly appeared, about forty feet away, standing beside John, and he’d known that he was truly in hell. His heart pounded harder with each step that brought the two men closer, his throat burning with the need to rant and scream. Didn’t Jack know that he would have gladly given up his life to save him? That if he’d had his choice, Jack would have remained back in their world…and left him to his fate?
Didn’t he understand that when the Master took his body, it wasn’t only going to kill him, but Ianto, as well?
“Rhiannon?” Ianto rasped when Jack came to a stop a few metres away from where he stood trapped in the Master’s evil embrace, John lingering a little farther back. Jack shook his head in response to his question, and tears spilled from the corners of his eyes. “You shouldn’t have come here,” he whispered, his voice cracking at the end.
The Master pulled him tighter against his body and smiled. “But then he would have missed all the fun,” the Master sang happily. “And we can’t have that. After all, he’s the whole reason for this little drama.”
Jack’s gaze burned with a cold, murderous rage as he looked at the crazed monster. “You won’t get out of here. You’re trapped in this shit-hole forever.” A low laugh rumbled in the Master’s chest. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that, Harkness. I’ve found that where there’s a will, there’s a way.”
Jerking his chin toward Ianto, Jack said, “Let him go and we’ll talk about what you want.”
“Ahhh, but you already know what I want.” The Master released the claws on his right hand with a sibilant hiss of sound and trailed them down the centre of Ianto’s body. “So take off that bloody charm hanging around your neck, or I’ll kill him right now.”
Keeping his eyes on the Master, Jack curled one hand around the charm, and Ianto shouted, “No! He’s going to kill me no matter what you do! Damn it, Jack, look at me! Don’t you dare take off that charm!”
But he did it anyway, pulling the charm over his head and dropping it to the sandy ground. Ianto’s horrified shout echoed through his head as he watched the leather pouch slip from his fingers, its slow descent toward the ground seeming to take forever. Ianto didn’t stop shouting as the Master shoved him away from him, his maniacal laughter full of triumph and satisfaction.
Ianto must have stumbled and fallen, because the next thing he knew, John was yanking him off the ground and setting him on his feet. He used his talons to quickly slice through the cord that bound his wrists, then pushed him behind him, as if he meant to protect him with his body. Desperate to get to Jack, Ianto tried to get around the demon, but John fisted his hand in his shirt and he only made it as far as his side.
He sucked in an outraged breath, ready to demand his release so that he could run to Jack, when John looked at the Master and said, “So what now, Pharis? That body you’re in needs to die before you can hop into Harkness. You planning on having us kill you? Or are you gonna do the deed yourself?”
The Master smiled. “I don’t need to die, demon. Thanks to one of Rhiannon’s spells, I can slip from this body to his before you can even reach me.”
Until that point, Jack had kept his gaze focused on the Master, ignoring Ianto’s pleas for him to look at him. But he turned his head toward him now, his beautiful eyes dark with regret. He moved that devastating gaze slowly over his face, touching upon his features one by one, as if he wanted to imprint them on his memory, knowing this was the end.
“I can’t believe you came for me,” Ianto whispered, his voice ravaged by pain, and his gaze lifted from his mouth, locking with his. It seemed they held that stare for long, heart-wrenching moments, though in reality it was no more than a handful of seconds. Jack’s throat worked, and he parted his lips, but whatever he was about to say was lost on a breathless gasp as his body suddenly shuddered and jerked, his arms and jaws spread wide as a dark vapour poured into his open mouth. Ianto knew it was the Master, Gray’s body now lying lifeless on the ground, and he gave a hoarse cry, as tears poured down his face.
The experience of claiming a new body was obviously taxing for the Master. He was hunched forward, with one hand braced against an out-cropping of rock, while the other clutched his stomach, his chest heaving with hard, rasping breaths. Then he finally lifted his head, and slid Ianto a slow smile. “I think the poor man was about to tell you he loved you.” The smile spread like a stain. “I couldn’t have timed that better if I’d planned for it.”
“You bastard!” Ianto cried, filling his hands with fire, wanting to burn the Master to a crisp. But he was in Jack’s body…which meant he couldn’t hurt him. Not without giving up hope that he could get back the man he loved, and he refused to do that.
“Come on,” John growled. “I’m getting you out of here.”
“No, I’m not leaving him!”
John’s voice was hard, but gentle. “He’s gone, Ianto. That’s it.”
“No, damn it. That is not it.” Ianto spun toward John in a rage of fury and grief, pushing against his broad chest, making him stumble backwards. “Jack’s still in there. I know it!”
“I wouldn’t count on it,” the Master rasped. Ianto turned his head and watched him coming toward him, and he looked like Jack. Like the man that he’d loved. But he wasn’t. The walk was all wrong. The cruel expression. The cold, deadly look in his eyes. The idea flashed through his head that this might be how the prophecy came true. That he would die by the Master’s hand while he was living inside Jack’s body.
With a sharp smile, the Master lifted his arms, blasting a wave of power at John that was meant to freeze the demon in place. But it didn’t work.
As John stepped away from Ianto, his chest shook with a gritty laugh. “Sorry, dickhead. You’re on my turf now. Those spells of yours aren’t going to do a damn thing against me here.”
With a snarl, the Master launched himself at the demon, swiping at him with his claws, and as the battle started, Ianto wondered if the Master knew what he was getting into. John was one of the meanest fighters he’d ever seen. Amazing…and deadly. Ianto cringed every time he landed a crushing blow against Jack’s body, hoping he couldn’t feel the pain. But the Master had finally gotten the strength he wanted, because he wasn’t going down. He was fighting back, coming at John hard and fast, striking out with his claws again, and again. But he couldn’t take the demon down.
Roaring with furious frustration, the Master began to take his true Pharis form, Jack’s handsome face transforming into that of a muzzled monster-but John wasn’t having it. With a crushing blow to the Pharis’ jaw, John sent the monster sprawling unconscious to the ground. Kicking him to his front, the demon placed his knee in the centre of the Master’s back and grabbed his wrists, pressing them against the Pharis’ spine at a painful angle, while chanting a demonic spell. As the Master regained consciousness, he pulled at his arms, trying to move them, but he was bound in place.
“You can’t break the spell,” John advised, “so don’t even try.”
“What have you done to me?” the Master snarled, struggling to pull his legs beneath him, but John kept him pinned in place. “We’re in Hell, you bastard. You have no idea what I can do here.”
While the Master continued his fight to break free of the invisible bonds, screaming obscenities, John reached into his back pocket and pulled out the Lumtae.
“No!” Ianto shouted as he ran toward the demon. “What the hell are you doing? You can’t kill him!”
Keeping a firm grip on the pentagram as Ianto tried to rip it out of his hand, John said, “Ianto, if the shit hit the fan, this is what Jack wanted.”
“What are you talking about?” he cried, refusing to believe him.
“Jack gave me the Lumtae. He knew the Master would want him in exchange for you. That’s why he gave me the pentagram. He wants me to end it, so that bastard can’t ever come after you again.”
“Well, that’s too damn bad,” he growled. “Because I’m not letting the son of a bitch take him away from me!”
“Then what do you want me to do?” he barked, the gritty words edged with frustration.
The idea that shot into Ianto’s brain was so brilliant, he almost smiled. “Do you have any of my blood left?” he asked in a breathless rush.
“What?”
“The blood that you took earlier. The virgin blood. Do you have any left?”
John reached in his pocket and pulled out a vial that was still half-full. “Just this. I gave the rest to James, in case those guys need it for another ritual.”
“You can perform the Death-Spell from the journal, and it’ll suck that evil bastard right out of Jack!” he said, praying it would work.
“I can try,” John told him, his tone lacking any real enthusiasm. “But, Ianto, there might be nothing left when the Master’s gone. Jack might not be in there anymore.”
“He’ll be there,” he snapped, refusing to give up on him. “Jack’s strong. I bet he’s ripping that arsehole to pieces on the inside. We have to help him.”
Ianto didn’t know if John believed him, but he didn’t argue or call him crazy. Instead, he did what any good friend would do, and he helped him fight for the man he loved.
Placing another binding spell across the Master’s shoulders and legs, John moved to his feet, then picked up one of the jagged rocks that were scattered over the ground. Standing several yards away from the Master, he knelt down and started drawing an intricate circle in the sand with the rock. When he was done, he squinted up at Ianto and said, “I don’t know how this is gonna go down, Ianto. You might not want to look. The scene with the Wraiths was bloody as hell.”
“That’s because they were pure evil to begin with,” Ianto argued, wondering if he sounded crazy. And not caring if he did. “Jack isn’t. He just needs that monster ripped out of him.” He jerked his chin toward the vial of blood that John was holding, and said, “Now do the damn spell.”
Since the body he wanted to perform the ritual on was already there, John didn’t have to carry out the first part of the ceremony, and was able to go straight to the second. Kneeling in the centre of the circle he’d drawn in the sand, the demon chanted in a low, guttural voice as he poured some of the blood in his hand, then smeared the blood around the edges of the circle. He repeated the process a second time, chanting louder, and a hot, powerful wind began to surge around them, knocking Ianto to his knees. The Master, who hadn’t stopped his snarling and cursing, suddenly fell silent, his body shuddering with violent convulsions. Then there was a blinding, deafening explosion of light that sent a shockwave over the land, and when it was gone, Jack’s body lay on the ground with a deathly, silent stillness.
Scrambling on his knees to reach him, Ianto turned Jack on to his back, then pressed his ear to his chest. “His heart isn’t beating!”
John’s voice was soft as he knelt by his side. “Maybe he’s gone, Ianto.”
“No!” Ianto growled, pushing Jack’s hair back from his face. “He isn’t gone and he isn’t evil! The spell wouldn’t have killed him. Just the Master.”
“Okay, Ianto. If your man’s still in there, then it’s up to you to get him back.”
Ianto jerked his gaze to the demon. “What are you talking about?”
“Before she died, Rhiannon said to tell you that the key to the spell that would save your heart is love. I think she was talking about the Life-Spell.”
Ianto blinked hot tears from his eyes, his lips trembling with shock. “But the Life-Spell is something that only the most powerful spell-makers can complete successfully. I’m a fighter, John. I’m not… I don’t know how to…”
He placed a comforting hand across the back of his neck. “Rhiannon believed you could do it. And so do I.”
“Damn it.” Ianto scrubbed at the tears streaming down his cheeks. “Okay. I’ll do it. But I need my knife,” he said, patting his jeans. “Where the hell is my knife?”
John grabbed his hand, turned it over and laid his knife across his palm. “Use mine.”
“Thanks.” He stared down at the shiny steel of the blade…hating what he was about to do with it. “I’m going to kill him for putting me through this,” he muttered under his breath.
John gave a rough laugh. “Uh, Eye Candy, I already did. Now just do your thing and bring him back.”
“I’m scared,” he whispered, staring down at Jack’s beloved face. “I don’t know if I can do this, John.”
“You love him?”
“More than anything,” he answered without hesitation.
“Then it’s gonna be fine. That’s the key.”
Knowing he couldn’t wait any longer, Ianto wrapped both hands around the hilt of the knife and closed his eyes, reciting the words of the ancient spell that he was forced to memorise as a child. When he’d finished, he opened his eyes and lifted the knife and before bringing it back down, plunging the blade straight into Jack’s heart. A sob broke from his throat as he closed his eyes again and kept reciting the spell, praying with everything he had that it would work. The seconds ticked by, heavy and slow, but he refused to give up hope, his hands gripping the hilt of the knife so tightly they started to tingle. But then he felt a surge of warmth coming from the knife, and he realised the tingle was from the slight vibration moving up through the blade.
Opening his eyes, Ianto’s breath caught on a gasp as he found the knife glowing with a white, vibrant light. When he released his hold on the hilt, the knife began lifting out of Jack’s chest, rising higher and higher, until it hovered nearly a foot in the air above his body. Suddenly, a powerful stream of light shot from the tip of the vibrating blade, straight into Jack’s chest, the beam glowing increasingly brighter until Ianto had to lift his hand to shield his eyes.
Then the vibrating stopped and the knife fell on its side against Jack’s chest and he jerked into an upright position with a sharp gasp. “Where’s the Master?” he croaked, his eyes wild with panic as he grabbed Ianto’s arm.
“He’s dead”,” Ianto told him, trying to curve his trembling lips into a smile, before pulling Jack in to a tight embrace
“John killed him with the Death-Spell,” he breathed in to Jack’s ear. Reluctantly loosening his grip on Jack he explained how John had still had some of his blood in his pocket.
John pulled out the vial and jiggled it in the air. “There’s still a little left. I’m thinking of maybe tracking down the ex and taking care of her once and for all,” he drawled, and Ianto gave a watery laugh.
Rubbing at the centre of his blood-covered chest, Jack stared up at the demon. “If you pulled the Master out with the spell, then why do I remember having a knife plunged into my chest?” He tucked in his chin and glanced down. “There’s blood, but no wound.”
Ianto was still explaining why he’d had to stab him, and how the spell had healed the wound, when John looked at the watch on his wrist and whistled. “Hey, Eye Candy. Guess what? The prophecy didn’t come true.”
Still feeling as if he’d had the crap beaten out of him, Jack slanted the demon a piercing look, wondering what the hell he was talking about. “What prophecy?”
John held up his hands and shook his head. “Ask Eye Candy. I’m not touching that one for love or money.”
Jack looked at him, intending to do just that, but he sidetracked him with a smile.
“You came for me,” he whispered, staring at him with tear-drenched eyes. “Even knowing what that bastard would do to you, you came for me.”
“Always,” he said in a low voice, wanting to take him back into his arms, but knowing it wasn’t the time. His body ached as he got to his feet, but he choked down the pain and reached for Ianto’s hand to help him up, enjoying the way he hugged into his side. Looking at the demon, he said, “Thanks for your help.”
“My pleasure.”
“How did the two of you get here so fast?” Ianto asked.
It was John who answered his question, saying, “I was on my way up to your cottage to check on you, when I felt the power surge from Rhiannon’s portal spell.”
Again, Jack had that feeling there was something going on he didn’t know about. “Why were you checking on Ianto?”
“Don’t worry about that now,” Ianto murmured, squeezing his hand.
Jack’s face was drawn with grief and exhaustion, and he forced himself to let it go. For the moment. But once they were alone, Jack planned to sit his arse down and finally get an answer.
“Come on,” John rumbled. “Let me get you guys out of here.”
Jack looked over his shoulder, a low curse on his lips when he saw where Gray’s body had fallen after the Master had left it. He couldn’t just leave him there, damn it.
John’s hand settled heavily on his shoulder. “Don’t worry about Gray, Jack,” the demon said in a low voice. “Let me get you guys back to the others, and then I’ll come back for your brother.”
“Thanks,” Jack rasped, wondering if the demon realised he’d just earned himself a friend. For life.