All By Myself - fic
Title: All By Myself
Pairing: Ianto, OMC, Jack
Rating: NC-17
Warning: Very dark nasty fic. Abuse, rape, murder. This is a bit of a schizophrenic fic I think, but the bunny was banging around inside my head. I do love Ianto but need to cause him pain from time to time. Sorry.
Darkness surrounded the naked figure huddled in the corner of the room, the only light was that of the video clock, heavy curtains blocked out any light from the street. The body shivered ears listening attentively for any hint of sound at the lock, fear filled every part of him, he didn’t want to hear the noise of keys in the lock but he knew, the dread deep inside him told him that it was simply a matter of time.
What else could he do, he knew he deserved it, the physical and mental pain meted out to him whenever they were together was all he was worth, he had learned that from a young age.
His mind drifted away to another place, not a nice place, certainly not a happy one, but at least it was nothing new, he’d been there before.
He’d been angry after Jack left, not that he’d let the other members of the team know, but it was that coupled with the mindless need to be fucked which had driven him to the club that evening.
Maybe he’d been giving out vibes of desperate need, he wasn’t sure, normally he was so good at putting up a shield.
Steven had found him that evening, piercing blue eyes, like Jack’s but cold, and big hands.
He told him what to do, Ianto found a cold comfort in that. The first few times they met up were ok, Steven was rough, but still his partners always had been, there wasn’t anything else was there.
He held his breath as he heard a noise, but then there was nothing else, and he started breathing again.
The second time they met Steven had called him wanting to see him, asking if he could come over to his house, he’d said yes, there was no reason not too. He was flattered someone wanted to see the worthless Ianto Jones.
It was nice to start with, but then the mind games started, Steven making him feel good but then making him feel like he’d done him a favour by doing it. He was laughing at him, then he picked him up by the hair dragged him onto the floor he tore his clothes off and fucked him with little preparation. When he’d cried with the pain Steven had thrown a heavy vase at him, it smashed on his back pieces of it embedding themselves in his skin, then his shoulder had been dislocated as the other man sitting on it.
Ianto shivered in the darkness.
He wasn’t able to stop it, Steven had insinuated himself completely into his life, and he did look after him too, he just knew what Ianto deserved and he gave it to him.
He should be grateful to Steven. But Jack’s back, as soon as he heard that unique drawl behind him. “Hi kids ‘d you miss me,” he wanted to cry. He’s missed Jack so much, he was scared. Steven always knew he was holding something back, even though he knew that Jack would never want him, he deserved so much better than a damaged thing like him. Still it didn’t stop him wishing it was otherwise.
Steven had always left his face, the damage, cuts burns, bruises, was always where it could be hidden under those immaculate suits that he wore like medieval armour.
He didn’t know how much longer he could survive though, Jack could read him better than anyone ever could. He couldn’t let him find out how pathetic he was, Steven had told him so, that Jack would never want him, he’d laugh at him too just like he did. Laugh at him for being so worthless as to let his partner beat him up and rape him not just once, but over and over.
Now Steven like to fuck him till he bled, while he was gagged and manacled to the bed, he see how long Ianto could take him before he started bleeding.
Tears poured down his face as he squirmed in the corner in the darkness.
He always hurt now, pain was a constant companion, surrounding him like a dark cloud he couldn’t push away. He turned the gun around in his hand, clenched his eyes close and whimpered, he was even too chicken to kill himself.
He heard the door bang open.
“Ianto, where’s my beautiful Welshman.” Jack drawled.
He curled up on his side, he didn’t want Jack to see him like this but he was too tired now, too tired to do anything anymore.
“No, no, no, no,” he murmured over and over again.
The light glared as Jack switched it on.
“Ianto,” he yelled as he saw the pale battered figure on the floor.
Jack grabbed a throw off the back on the sofa and ran over, kneeling on the floor he carefully wrapped it around the young man.
“I’m going to call Owen ok,” he stroked the brown wavy hair.
“Not Owen, please,” a whispered croak came out of the bruised throat.
Jack thought for a moment.
“Ok, there’s someone else, but you’ll have to trust me ok,” he looked down, but there was no answer. He looked with concern at the pale figure, he could see him breathing shallowly.
Jack flicked open his phone and selected a contact, M Jones. After a short tense conversation he knew she was on her way.
He heard a noise at the door followed by a bang.
“Who the fuck are you,” the figure in the doorway asked brutally. “What’s the worthless little bastard done now,” he continued.
Jack stood in one fluid movement, his coat flowing around his extravagantly, it was superficial he knew, but it looked good. He smiled engagingly.
In a single quick move Jack wrapped his hand round Steven’s throat in a grip of iron, kicked the door closed and pushed the other man up against it.
“You did this to him,” he nodded at the huddled figure on the floor. “What I’m going to do to you will make Hell seem like a day in the park.” Jack’s blue eyes flashed viciously and the other man wet himself at what he saw in them.
An hour later Martha had Ianto admitted to hospital. Owen, without asking any questions had removed the body of Steven from Ianto’s apartment and Tosh had wiped all records of the man’s existence.
Torchwood looked after their own, in the end, as Ianto would learn.
Pairing: Ianto, OMC, Jack
Rating: NC-17
Warning: Very dark nasty fic. Abuse, rape, murder. This is a bit of a schizophrenic fic I think, but the bunny was banging around inside my head. I do love Ianto but need to cause him pain from time to time. Sorry.
Darkness surrounded the naked figure huddled in the corner of the room, the only light was that of the video clock, heavy curtains blocked out any light from the street. The body shivered ears listening attentively for any hint of sound at the lock, fear filled every part of him, he didn’t want to hear the noise of keys in the lock but he knew, the dread deep inside him told him that it was simply a matter of time.
What else could he do, he knew he deserved it, the physical and mental pain meted out to him whenever they were together was all he was worth, he had learned that from a young age.
His mind drifted away to another place, not a nice place, certainly not a happy one, but at least it was nothing new, he’d been there before.
He’d been angry after Jack left, not that he’d let the other members of the team know, but it was that coupled with the mindless need to be fucked which had driven him to the club that evening.
Maybe he’d been giving out vibes of desperate need, he wasn’t sure, normally he was so good at putting up a shield.
Steven had found him that evening, piercing blue eyes, like Jack’s but cold, and big hands.
He told him what to do, Ianto found a cold comfort in that. The first few times they met up were ok, Steven was rough, but still his partners always had been, there wasn’t anything else was there.
He held his breath as he heard a noise, but then there was nothing else, and he started breathing again.
The second time they met Steven had called him wanting to see him, asking if he could come over to his house, he’d said yes, there was no reason not too. He was flattered someone wanted to see the worthless Ianto Jones.
It was nice to start with, but then the mind games started, Steven making him feel good but then making him feel like he’d done him a favour by doing it. He was laughing at him, then he picked him up by the hair dragged him onto the floor he tore his clothes off and fucked him with little preparation. When he’d cried with the pain Steven had thrown a heavy vase at him, it smashed on his back pieces of it embedding themselves in his skin, then his shoulder had been dislocated as the other man sitting on it.
Ianto shivered in the darkness.
He wasn’t able to stop it, Steven had insinuated himself completely into his life, and he did look after him too, he just knew what Ianto deserved and he gave it to him.
He should be grateful to Steven. But Jack’s back, as soon as he heard that unique drawl behind him. “Hi kids ‘d you miss me,” he wanted to cry. He’s missed Jack so much, he was scared. Steven always knew he was holding something back, even though he knew that Jack would never want him, he deserved so much better than a damaged thing like him. Still it didn’t stop him wishing it was otherwise.
Steven had always left his face, the damage, cuts burns, bruises, was always where it could be hidden under those immaculate suits that he wore like medieval armour.
He didn’t know how much longer he could survive though, Jack could read him better than anyone ever could. He couldn’t let him find out how pathetic he was, Steven had told him so, that Jack would never want him, he’d laugh at him too just like he did. Laugh at him for being so worthless as to let his partner beat him up and rape him not just once, but over and over.
Now Steven like to fuck him till he bled, while he was gagged and manacled to the bed, he see how long Ianto could take him before he started bleeding.
Tears poured down his face as he squirmed in the corner in the darkness.
He always hurt now, pain was a constant companion, surrounding him like a dark cloud he couldn’t push away. He turned the gun around in his hand, clenched his eyes close and whimpered, he was even too chicken to kill himself.
He heard the door bang open.
“Ianto, where’s my beautiful Welshman.” Jack drawled.
He curled up on his side, he didn’t want Jack to see him like this but he was too tired now, too tired to do anything anymore.
“No, no, no, no,” he murmured over and over again.
The light glared as Jack switched it on.
“Ianto,” he yelled as he saw the pale battered figure on the floor.
Jack grabbed a throw off the back on the sofa and ran over, kneeling on the floor he carefully wrapped it around the young man.
“I’m going to call Owen ok,” he stroked the brown wavy hair.
“Not Owen, please,” a whispered croak came out of the bruised throat.
Jack thought for a moment.
“Ok, there’s someone else, but you’ll have to trust me ok,” he looked down, but there was no answer. He looked with concern at the pale figure, he could see him breathing shallowly.
Jack flicked open his phone and selected a contact, M Jones. After a short tense conversation he knew she was on her way.
He heard a noise at the door followed by a bang.
“Who the fuck are you,” the figure in the doorway asked brutally. “What’s the worthless little bastard done now,” he continued.
Jack stood in one fluid movement, his coat flowing around his extravagantly, it was superficial he knew, but it looked good. He smiled engagingly.
In a single quick move Jack wrapped his hand round Steven’s throat in a grip of iron, kicked the door closed and pushed the other man up against it.
“You did this to him,” he nodded at the huddled figure on the floor. “What I’m going to do to you will make Hell seem like a day in the park.” Jack’s blue eyes flashed viciously and the other man wet himself at what he saw in them.
An hour later Martha had Ianto admitted to hospital. Owen, without asking any questions had removed the body of Steven from Ianto’s apartment and Tosh had wiped all records of the man’s existence.
Torchwood looked after their own, in the end, as Ianto would learn.