Fic: The Silence of the Mind 5/7
Title:The Silence of the Mind
Author: alex_caligari
Beta: jellybean728
Characters/Pairings: Owen Harper
Rating: 14A
Summary: Owen is captured during the Year That Never Was. He quickly finds out that the worst tortures are not the ones he expected.
Disclaimer: All puppets still firmly attached to the BBC.
Author's Notes: Torchwood/Doctor Who crossover, set during the end of S1 and S3, respectively. Nothing graphic, but things will get worse quite quickly.
Chapter 1: International Relations Chapter 2: Anonymous Chapter 3: Boredom Chapter 4: Taking the Bullet Chapter 5: Hope
I was fucked, and pissed off about it. I was learning, but could do nothing with the knowledge. Saxon kept giving us hints about the outside world, showing the monuments he had built, the cities he had destroyed. Each time I gained a little more information, some of it contradictory, but I was piecing it together as best I could. I learned about Martha, and the Doctor, and the gun. Nothing more was said about my team. I had seen no evidence of Jack other than Tish’s word, and she hadn’t said if he got my message or had one in return.
I spent my days listening to people talking as they walked by, and waited for familiar voices. I tried not to get complacent, but found myself dozing as often as possible. I was slumped near the sink when someone knocked at my door.
No one ever knocked. Food was delivered into the anteroom and the intercom told me when I was going to be moved. But now someone was knocking urgently at the outer door. I crawled over and knocked back in the same rhythm. Knock-knock, knock-knock. A muffled voice came through.
“Owen,” it said. It sounded like Tish. “3 o’clock. Be ready.”
“Ready for what?” I asked but she didn’t answer. She probably only had that much time to spare.
I had no idea what time it was now, or how far off 3 o’clock was. How was I to prepare? I didn’t exactly have to pack. Prepare for escape? O for something Saxon had planned for me? All Tish’s warning did was make me hyperaware of my surroundings and paranoid about every little noise outside my door.
Several hours passed by my reckoning. No sounds reached me. I became bored again, tired of waiting. Hope and anticipation were greater strains on the mind than anything Saxon’s grunts could throw at me. I started to doubt that it was even Tish who had spoken to me. Female soldiers were on board; it could have been any one of them.
Then I heard boots pounding past my door. Running and shouting. I thought I heard the word ‘rebellion.’ I was instantly on the alert. I stood with my ear pressed against the door to catch anything else. From what I could remember my cell was mid-ship, and to the right was the way to the boardroom in which Saxon always held his audiences. To the left led deeper into the ship, back into the pipes and grating. That’s where all the commotion was coming from, and more grunts ran past towards it.
I heard shouted orders as several people stopped near my cell. Their voices echoed and were amplified by the stark walls. Voices shouted ‘stop’ and ‘fire’ and a terribly familiar voice replied.
“Here we go again.”
I pounded the door of my cell. “Jack!” I called, “Jack!” A volley of shots drowned me out, followed by a heavy thud.
My chest constricted. It doesn’t last, it doesn’t last, I thought. He’ll come back. He came back from bullets before, when...
I lost the fight and vomited in the toilet. I forced my breathing back to normal and rinsed my mouth. I needed to be prepared for whatever came next, rescue or punishment. More shouting and running went past my door but no one stopped. No one came for me. Well, no one friendly.
Saxon stood patiently as the inner door slid open. I expected to be shot on sight, like Jack had been. But he simply stood there watching me. I stayed silent, wavering between showing defiance or deference. “There has been an attempted coup on my ship,” he said finally. “I have punished those responsible. Some more severely than others.” He played with the long tool and had a bored expression on his face. “None of you really matter. I would just as soon throw you over the side into the Pacific Ocean. But keeping you alive, weak and beaten, it just helps with morale. If his little friend,” he sneered, “isn’t provoked into action by this, well, I might just have to murder one of you.” He began flipping the tool end over end. A benign gesture turned into a threat.
“You’re safe, by the way. She doesn’t even know you. But her mum, or her sister...they better behave themselves. No more slipups like today. Or they might get their fifteen minutes of fame.” He looked around the cell, and wrinkled his nose when he noticed my filthy pile of clothes. “Good day, Dr. Harper.” He turned to leave before adding, “And before you ask why I’m telling you this, it’s because you know I have the Doctor’s odd little pet. Dull, sweet, well-meaning Tish told you, and I’ve known about that for some time. Why do you think the soldiers waited until he was in this corridor to shoot him?”
“You’re enjoying this,” I said, not surprised.
He looked back at me. “Of course. Why would I do it otherwise?” He smirked as the door closed on him.
That bastard. I jumped off the cot and pounded the door, screaming obscenities at him. I had only bruised hands and a hoarse voice for my troubles, but it helped.
Chapter 6: Rejoice
Author: alex_caligari
Beta: jellybean728
Characters/Pairings: Owen Harper
Rating: 14A
Summary: Owen is captured during the Year That Never Was. He quickly finds out that the worst tortures are not the ones he expected.
Disclaimer: All puppets still firmly attached to the BBC.
Author's Notes: Torchwood/Doctor Who crossover, set during the end of S1 and S3, respectively. Nothing graphic, but things will get worse quite quickly.
Chapter 1: International Relations Chapter 2: Anonymous Chapter 3: Boredom Chapter 4: Taking the Bullet Chapter 5: Hope
I was fucked, and pissed off about it. I was learning, but could do nothing with the knowledge. Saxon kept giving us hints about the outside world, showing the monuments he had built, the cities he had destroyed. Each time I gained a little more information, some of it contradictory, but I was piecing it together as best I could. I learned about Martha, and the Doctor, and the gun. Nothing more was said about my team. I had seen no evidence of Jack other than Tish’s word, and she hadn’t said if he got my message or had one in return.
I spent my days listening to people talking as they walked by, and waited for familiar voices. I tried not to get complacent, but found myself dozing as often as possible. I was slumped near the sink when someone knocked at my door.
No one ever knocked. Food was delivered into the anteroom and the intercom told me when I was going to be moved. But now someone was knocking urgently at the outer door. I crawled over and knocked back in the same rhythm. Knock-knock, knock-knock. A muffled voice came through.
“Owen,” it said. It sounded like Tish. “3 o’clock. Be ready.”
“Ready for what?” I asked but she didn’t answer. She probably only had that much time to spare.
I had no idea what time it was now, or how far off 3 o’clock was. How was I to prepare? I didn’t exactly have to pack. Prepare for escape? O for something Saxon had planned for me? All Tish’s warning did was make me hyperaware of my surroundings and paranoid about every little noise outside my door.
Several hours passed by my reckoning. No sounds reached me. I became bored again, tired of waiting. Hope and anticipation were greater strains on the mind than anything Saxon’s grunts could throw at me. I started to doubt that it was even Tish who had spoken to me. Female soldiers were on board; it could have been any one of them.
Then I heard boots pounding past my door. Running and shouting. I thought I heard the word ‘rebellion.’ I was instantly on the alert. I stood with my ear pressed against the door to catch anything else. From what I could remember my cell was mid-ship, and to the right was the way to the boardroom in which Saxon always held his audiences. To the left led deeper into the ship, back into the pipes and grating. That’s where all the commotion was coming from, and more grunts ran past towards it.
I heard shouted orders as several people stopped near my cell. Their voices echoed and were amplified by the stark walls. Voices shouted ‘stop’ and ‘fire’ and a terribly familiar voice replied.
“Here we go again.”
I pounded the door of my cell. “Jack!” I called, “Jack!” A volley of shots drowned me out, followed by a heavy thud.
My chest constricted. It doesn’t last, it doesn’t last, I thought. He’ll come back. He came back from bullets before, when...
I lost the fight and vomited in the toilet. I forced my breathing back to normal and rinsed my mouth. I needed to be prepared for whatever came next, rescue or punishment. More shouting and running went past my door but no one stopped. No one came for me. Well, no one friendly.
Saxon stood patiently as the inner door slid open. I expected to be shot on sight, like Jack had been. But he simply stood there watching me. I stayed silent, wavering between showing defiance or deference. “There has been an attempted coup on my ship,” he said finally. “I have punished those responsible. Some more severely than others.” He played with the long tool and had a bored expression on his face. “None of you really matter. I would just as soon throw you over the side into the Pacific Ocean. But keeping you alive, weak and beaten, it just helps with morale. If his little friend,” he sneered, “isn’t provoked into action by this, well, I might just have to murder one of you.” He began flipping the tool end over end. A benign gesture turned into a threat.
“You’re safe, by the way. She doesn’t even know you. But her mum, or her sister...they better behave themselves. No more slipups like today. Or they might get their fifteen minutes of fame.” He looked around the cell, and wrinkled his nose when he noticed my filthy pile of clothes. “Good day, Dr. Harper.” He turned to leave before adding, “And before you ask why I’m telling you this, it’s because you know I have the Doctor’s odd little pet. Dull, sweet, well-meaning Tish told you, and I’ve known about that for some time. Why do you think the soldiers waited until he was in this corridor to shoot him?”
“You’re enjoying this,” I said, not surprised.
He looked back at me. “Of course. Why would I do it otherwise?” He smirked as the door closed on him.
That bastard. I jumped off the cot and pounded the door, screaming obscenities at him. I had only bruised hands and a hoarse voice for my troubles, but it helped.
Chapter 6: Rejoice