Born This Way - Chapter 23
Title: Born This Way 23
Characters/Pairings: Jack/Ianto, John, Gray, Owen, Toshiko/Tommy, Suzie, OCs
Rating: NC-17
Warnings/Contains: Supernatural themes, character death, drug references, dub-con.
Summary: Sequel to Choices - Ianto Jones was born and raised in Hell, but he isn’t feeling as demonic as usual lately-thanks to Jack Harkness. But you can’t desert Hell without consequences and suddenly Ianto’s and Jack’s happily ever after may not be so happy.
Note: No summary will prepare you for this!
23
*~*
When Doves Cry
*~*
Jack
I call for Gray when I get to the house, and he’s there in a heartbeat, appearing near the window in my bedroom.
“We need to find Owen.” I sound out of breath, which I pretty much am, since I haven’t been able to breathe since I left Russell’s.
“I might be able to help you with that, but there’s nothing I can do about his tag.”
I couldn’t have heard him right. “What?”
His eyes widen then drop to the floor. “I thought Ianto told you.”
My legs waver and I manage to make it to the bed before they give way. I drop onto the edge of it. “Owen’s… tag?”
When he doesn’t answer, I look up at him. “What’s going on, Gray?”
“Owen’s soul is tagged for Hell, Jack. He crossed the line with Russell. There’s nothing you can do.”
A groan rolls up from my chest. “Ianto…?” My throat is so tight, I can’t find air. “He knew?”
“I…” I hear him hesitate and wonder why he’s even considering defending Ianto. He hates him. He finally gives up. “Yes.”
I stand and storm out of the room, ignoring my Mum’s calls as I blast through the family room and right out the front door. When I peel out of the driveway, I hear Gray in my ear. “What are you doing, Jack?”
I just stare straight out the windshield, unable to find words through the cold steel of my rage.
I can’t even remember the drive as I twist my key in Ianto’s lock and fling the door open, ready to lay into him.
From the stereo, the pounding rhythm of the music tells me everything is wrong.
And as I look around the room, I know I’m right.
The first thing I notice is two bodies moving together under the quilt.
The blood drains from my face, and everything turns cold as I take in the scene: clothes piled on the floor-Ianto’s, and some definitely more feminine-the wash of long dark hair across the pillow, the subtle hint of sweet vanilla and citrus, mixing with the heavier musk of warm bodies.
And I can’t breathe.
The periphery of my vision blurs and I feel light-headed. As if in a trance, I move forward. In four steps, I’m at the bed, and my heart squeezes tight in my chest as I hear Ianto’s sigh.
I grab the quilt, tear it back, and can’t stop the wounded moan that escapes my throat. It’s everything I can do not to double over as my gut clenches into a painful knot.
Elle.
“Oh, God.” The words catch in my throat.
I stumble back into Gray, who stands transfixed by the scene in the bed. He catches me and his fingers dig into my upper arms, deeper and deeper, till the pain of his grasp snaps me out of my stupor.
Ianto seems totally unaware that they have an audience, completely lost in her. But Elle spares me a sidelong glance as the hint of a smile pulls at her lips. Her hands reach for Ianto’s face and pull it back to hers.
“No!” I scream, only half-aware that I’ve done it. I turn to Gray as myriad emotions assault me. The look on his face is pure fury.
He shoves me aside and charges the bed, pulling Ianto away from Elle. “Get off her, you bastard!”
Ianto blinks and looks like he’s having trouble focusing, as if waking from a dream-not quite able to get his bearings. He looks from Elle to Gray.
“Get up, you son of a bitch!” Gray yells.
Ianto rolls away from Elle and he blinks again as his brow creases.
Gray tears Ianto from the bed by his hair. “Get away from her!”
As my mind processes what’s happening, I suddenly realise that Gray is fighting for Elle, not defending me. “Gray?”
His only response is to throw Ianto to the ground and jump on top of him, beating Ianto’s face with his fists. Ianto barely raises an arm to defend himself, too stunned to fight back.
Finally, Ianto seems to get his bearings. He lands a punch that snaps Gray’s head back, and takes the opportunity to shove Gray off. He pulls himself to his feet, his lip bleeding and his cheek starting to swell. He stares at me, his mouth open and his eyes wide-a look of utter shock. I’m obviously early. He didn’t expect to get caught. Then he looks back at the bed. At Elle.
*~*
Ianto
I fight for control of my senses as the illusion flickers and fades. Then it’s Elle, not Jack, lying in my bed.
Satan save me.
I’m dizzy and completely disoriented, but through the fog, I realise what I’ve done. An agonised cry of despair erupts from my core. “No!”
I turn back to Jack. He stands, still as stone, supporting himself with a hand splayed flat on the kitchen table, his face twisted in pain. A tear trickles slowly down his cheek, and my heart contracts into a hard ball. I tug my jeans on as he shakes his head in disbelief.
“How could you?” It’s barely a whisper.
I take a step forward and hold out my hand to him. “Jack…I didn’t…” But there’s nothing I can say to make this right. I drag my hand through my hair and try to think.
How did this happen?
I search my mind, but there’s nothing. Everything is a black fog.
I look back at Elle, on the bed, and to the coffee mug next to Jack on the table. Tiny scraps of memory tease me: Elle asking about Jack, touching my hand. Then black lust. Animal need. The certainty that if I didn’t have Jack right that instant, I’d die.
Pure, unadulterated lust.
It hits me like a wrecking ball.
I can hardly breathe as I wheel on Elle, sitting on the edge of my bed. “You! What are you?”
She cringes back from me, pulling the sheets tighter around her, and tears well in her stunned eyes. Suddenly, I’m confused. I want to blame this on Elle, but…
I spin back to Jack, who’s retreating toward the door. “No. Jack, please…”
He turns and runs just as Gray takes me back down to the ground, yelling like a Banshee. “I knew it! I’m going to kill you!”
He grabs a handful of hair and slams my head into the floor with it, and I feel his power surge. My hair stands on end as static electricity crackles between us. I throw him off and pull myself to my feet, ignoring the throb in my head.
Gray is on his feet, his glow nearly blinding. Through it, I see licks of white lightning dance over the surface of his skin, and the smell of ozone suddenly hangs sharp in the air. I spin and run for the door. When I hear his tortured cry from behind me, I brace myself for the impact of his lightning bolt hitting my back. But it doesn’t happen.
White light erupts in the room, and for a moment, I’m blind. I squint against the glare, lifting my arm to shield my eyes. As they adjust, two figures, shadows in the radiance, converge on Gray.
Unholy Hell. Avenging angels.
It’s no myth. They are beautiful-angelic, with celestial magnificence that makes it impossible to pull my eyes away. But also terrible in the most beautifully horrible sense-their singular purpose is to destroy.
I’ve seen them before, of course, but I still can’t help the terror that springs to life in my core as I realise why they’re here.
Their feathered wings spread wide, glorious, they descend quickly on Gray, where he stands near the bed. His face is set in a grimace, his eyes still locked on me. The sudden, overpowering urge to protect him from the avengers makes me take a few steps into the room. But their cold heat burns, forcing me back.
Gray raises his hand, and lightning crackles over the surface of his palm, building to critical mass. “You won’t touch Elle again,” he growls, his focus still on me.
Just as he unleashes the blast, he turns his gaze to the angel that’s descending in front of him, and his eyes pull wide. The blast of lightning from Gray’s palm is absorbed into the intense glow of the angel, eaten alive. The next second, Gray screams as he’s also absorbed into that glow.
Through Gray’s scream, I hear the sickening crunch of snapping bone as his wings are torn from his body, and as much as I want to, I can’t turn away. A blast of charged air hits me as if a bomb went off, and I stagger back into the hall. Then, as fast as it came, the light is gone and Gray lies bleeding on the floor.
I turn and run down the hall after Jack without a backward glance.
*~*
Gray
I feel as though I’m waking from a dream, and find Elle kneeling over me, wrapped in a sheet. I moan as her fingers stroke my face, and when she leans in to kiss me, I explode in a burst of bliss. I pull her to me, kissing her deeper, lost in the feel of her next to me.
She showers my face with kisses. “Are you okay?”
I smile up at her and feel the tug of disappointment at my inability to remember what just happened. We were obviously together-she’s naked under the sheet, but…
And that’s when I realise I’m not. I’m in my jeans and T-shirt. I glance at our surroundings and see we’re in Ianto’s apartment, not Elle’s.
I squint up at Elle, fighting to remember. “What-?”
Her eyes cloud as she pulls back from my embrace. “I didn’t want to.”
An image flashes. Elle. In Ianto’s bed. Another image. My fist connecting with Ianto’s face.
I pull myself off the floor. As I stand here, my legs shake. I can’t quite get my head straight. My senses feel dulled, my vision blurry. And then I feel a hot trickle down my back. And pain-a deep stinging ache. I press my hand to the T-shirt on my back and gasp when it comes away wet-and red.
Blood?
That’s impossible. Angels don’t bleed.
I look back at Elle. She’s still kneeling, chocolate brown hair strewn across her shoulders. Hot rage-but also hot lust-dulls the pain in my back. All I feel is the crushing pain in my heart as the memory, like a flash flood, hits me full force.
“Elle?”
She stands, pulling the sheet with her. “I didn’t want him, Gray, but I had no choice….” A tear trails down her cheek as she gazes at me with wounded eyes.
Cold rage cuts through me. I move to where she stands, not sure whether I want to hit her or kiss her, and she throws herself around me.
“Please, Gray. I’m so sorry.”
Slowly, I lift my shaking hands and lay them on her hips. I’m acutely aware of her body under the thin sheet as she sobs into my shoulder. She looks up at me with those beautiful green eyes, and desire explodes through me. I hear my own moan, animal in its need, as I crush my lips to hers. But then the image of her in bed with Ianto assaults my mind again, and I push her away.
“You slept with him.”
“I didn’t want to. You have to believe me. He made me.”
Her face is all pain and desperation, and my need to protect her is suddenly overwhelming.
I pull her back to me, crushing her into the curve of my body. “Elle,” I whisper into her hair.
She nuzzles into my neck. “I don’t want to be like this.” She pulls back, but her eyes hold me mesmerised. “Promise you’ll stay with me.”
“I’ll stay with you,” I say, unable to say anything else.
“Forever,” she whispers into my lips.
“Forever,” I repeat, pressing my lips back to hers.
I feel the sting where her hand touches my back, and in my mind, something screams in warning. But I can’t focus on that with Elle so close. Her lips trace a soft, warm path to my ear, where she whispers, “It’s going to be so much better now. You’re my angel.” She kisses me, slow, soft, and then releases me. “It’s time to go.”
Images dance in the edge of my consciousness. They’re fuzzy, and I’m having trouble making sense of them, but suddenly I’m sure they’re important.
“Where?” I ask, trying to get a grip on the reason for the panic that’s rising from my core. I close my eyes, trying harder to remember, and feel her press into me again. When I open my eyes, her face is an inch from mine.
“You promised you’d stay with me.”
Alarms are ringing louder in my head. “Where are we going?”
Every part of me screams as she pulls herself away from me and sighs. “You have two choices now, Gray. You can walk powerless among them-” She waves an arm vaguely at the world. “-or you can stay with me. Pledge your fealty to King Lucifer, and we can have everything. Your power will grow to be stronger, unhindered by those quaint celestial ideas of right and wrong. You’ll be free to exact revenge on anyone you choose. Anyone who has wronged you.”
The image of Ianto-what he did to Elle-solidifies in my head, and I know that’s what I want. Vengeance. But…“Angels don’t pledge fealty to anyone but the Almighty.”
She reaches around and presses her hand into my back. She brings it to my face, dripping blood. “You can’t go back. No wings.”
And then the rest of the image comes clear-white light, burning me with cold heat. The wet crunch of breaking bone, and searing pain shooting through my whole body.
Avengers.
That’s when it hits me. When the meaning of her words, the avengers, the blood, and the rage and lust that seem to be consuming me all come together in one coherent thought.
I’ve fallen.
I stagger back a step as guilt, dread, and terror overwhelm me.
No wings.
I expected it when I first kissed Elle, and again after I slept with her. I knew I was playing with fire, so why am I surprised?
But I’m beyond surprised. My insides collapse as the horror of it dawns.
I can’t go back.
Her sheet drops away as she glides back into my arms.
“I need you,” she whispers, eyes pleading. “Come with me, Gray. Pledge your fealty to my Lord, and we can have it all.” In that instant, sickening despair twists through me as understanding dawns. “When you said he made you do it, you didn’t mean Ianto, did you?”
She stiffens in my arms and shakes her head. “No, not Ianto. You need to understand that I live on lust. I can’t survive without it.” She peels herself away from me, and I feel my arms clutching tighter, afraid she’ll get away. Her green eyes flare as she gazes up into mine and traces my lips with her finger. “But mortal lust can’t compare with yours. I could live forever on the lust of my angel.”
A singular thought consumes me: She’s mine. They can’t have her. Her lips find mine, setting me on fire. I burn for her, all need and desire. She pulls me deeper into the kiss, and electric bliss surges through me like a bolt of hot lightning. Then my head starts to spin as the material world, including Elle, falls away. I screw my eyes shut against the sickening rush and feel as though I’m being ripped through time.
When the sensation finally stops and I open my eyes, I’m unsure where I am. It’s no place I’ve ever been before. Flickering azure light filters through what looks like the opening of a cave, but this cave, the one I’m in, is like nothing I’ve ever seen. The walls sparkle, sort of, but it’s like a reverse sparkle. Instead of reflecting back little bits of light, they seem to devour it just as it tries to escape. The floor is glossy black, but feels soft under my feet, like if I move too quickly, I would sink into it. I turn slowly, looking for any clue to where I am.
And then I smell the sulphur-brimstone.