Belonging: Chapter One (Prologue)
Okay, so this is my new multi-chapter Fic... it's still a WIP and I'm slightly nervous about beginning to post it in case it dries up, ha ha, but it's going okay, and the longer I leave it, the more the ending of 'Journey's End' will slip from people's minds, and as this follows directly on from that, I'm reluctant to let that happen as it won't have the same sort of impact.
I'm currently writing Chapter 4, and it does get better, so stick with me. (And yes, there will eventually be slash. Lots and lots of lovely slash. In the meantime, just enjoy the anguish...)
Title: Belonging - Chapter One: Prologue
Fandom: Doctor Who/Torchwood
Characters: This Chapter - Jack/Ianto, Ten
Rating: This Chapter - PG (will be NC-17 overall)
Spoilers: DW: The Stolen Earth, Journey's End
Disclaimer: The BBC own it all, the little tinkers`
Warnings: Non-explicit m/m slash | angst | hurt/comfort
Description:
This is set immediately after the events of 'The Stolen Earth' / 'Journey's End'
The Torchwood team are struggling to get back to normal after recent shattering events, when the Doctor turns up in the Torchwood Hub in the middle of the night; alone, heartbroken, guilt-ridden, and needing somewhere to belong.
Comments, as ever, would be much loved.
"I don't suppose you've got any tea? Oh, by the way, wasn't sure if you knew or not, but you're naked."
Chapter One: Prologue
I came back, just like I'd promised.
I returned to the Hub via the main entrance, to find pieces of shattered Dalek casing littering the ground, and a dishevelled Ianto and Gwen attempting to tidy up the place.
I had Ianto in my arms in seconds, his hot body pressed against mine, both of us shaking with relief. Gwen joined us after a moment, and I held them both tightly, thankful to whatever deities exist that I hadn't lost them. I told Gwen to forget the cleaning up, just go home to Rhys. She didn't need telling twice.
Ianto and I spent the rest of the night making up for lost time.
***
It was three days later, and we'd gone into a sort of post-stress stasis, all of us. I'd phoned Gwen a couple of days ago and told her to take some time off. The admin and red tape involved in recruiting Martha and Mickey as Torchwood employees had been put back for a while; Martha was tying up loose ends in London, and Mickey was... I don't know what he was doing. Emptying the mini-bar and watching pornography in the nice hotel I'd booked him into, maybe. That was fine by me.
The Hub was still a mess; broken furniture, paper and assorted debris was scattered all over the floor. We'd left it as it was, for now. I think even the Rift was getting over its own shock; there'd been no activity since I got back.
It was the early hours. Ianto and I were squashed together in my bunk, the tiny underground room which contained my bed and not much else. Ianto always complained that it wasn't big enough for two, but I liked us being crammed in together, like two rabbits in a warren. It made me feel safe.
Ianto was asleep in my arms, cooling naked flesh pressed against mine. I was contemplating going to sleep for a while myself. I don't need much sleep, and when I do succumb I often have bad dreams, but that night I felt like I needed it. Besides... Ianto usually woke up feeling horny, and I needed to keep up my strength. I'm a very old man, after all. I smiled to myself in the dark.
As soon as my eyes closed, I heard something, above us.
My heart knew what that sound was, even as my brain caught up. I'd recognise it anywhere. The noise was getting louder, reverberating around the walls of the Hub; an eerie, grinding, wailing sound.
I felt a flutter of eyelashes against my chest as Ianto woke. "What the...?" he muttered drowsily.
I extricated myself from his grasp as quickly as I could without knocking him out of bed, and leapt up and out of my bunk. Nervous excitement and - dare I say it - joy, was already fluttering in my stomach, to the extent that I didn't give Ianto so much as a backwards glance as I left him behind, sitting dazed and bewildered in a crumpled nest of blankets.
In retrospect, maybe that was a little inconsiderate of me.
***
I skidded to a halt in the main chamber. It was there, large as life, slap bang in the middle of the room: seven foot two, walls of blue. The TARDIS. Strewn paperwork had blown out in all directions under it and the ship had miraculously managed to land in a clear spot.
The door opened, and then the Doctor was standing there, bright light from inside the ship casting him into silhouette.
I wasn't sure what expression to arrange my face into as he emerged. Charming welcome, anticipated concern, flirty smirk, bemused-but- hey-its-great-to-see-ya?
I settled for the latter as the Time Lord stepped out. As soon as I saw him properly in the more subtle light of the Hub, I felt my face blanch.
He didn't look ill, or injured. He just looked... lost. Completely desolate. His face was etched with lines of grief and painful emotion; the whites of his eyes reddened, irises darkened with the weight of a hundred universes bearing down on his slender shoulders.
He was in only his shirt-sleeves and brown suit trousers. He'd dispensed with the tie. Even his hair was flat.
I'd never seen the Doctor like this before. Even in the most desperate of situations, he kept up an air of manic energy; a cheerful demeanour, no matter how false. He never gave up.
I took a step forward, unsure now of how to greet him. "I'd say long time, no see," I ventured. "But it's only been a few days. Still missed you, though." I smiled warmly.
The Doctor tried to smile back, but it wasn't very convincing. He stuck both hands in his pockets.
"I'm sorry to barge on in you like this," he said. His voice was quiet, almost cracking.
I held my hands out. "Oh, hey Doc.... Mi casa, su casa, you know that. Is everything... okay?"
The Doctor looked round in mock interest. "So this is your Torchwood Hub. Very nice. I mean... I think you could do with hiring a cleaner..." I was still staring at him expectantly, and at last he seemed to notice. "Sorry. Yeah, I'm..." he swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing prominently in his throat. "I'm alright."
I raised an eyebrow. "Isn't that your secret code for 'really not alright at all'?"
The Doctor blinked. "That's what Donna says. I mean... Oh, Jack." He seemed to sag, and that was all I needed.
I went over to him, took his face in both of my hands. "Tell me what's wrong," I said gently. "Where's that other handsome Doctor, the spare one? The one I was hoping you'd give me for Christmas?" There was no amused response. My brow furrowed. "Is Rose okay? Donna? What the hell happened? You're scaring me."
The Doctor brought up an arm to scratch his ear awkwardly, but didn't dislodge my hands. "I don't suppose you've got any tea? Oh, by the way, wasn't sure if you knew or not, but you're naked."
I looked down, and saw that he was right. In my haste, I'd completely forgotten. I blushed. And I never blush.
A sharp, fake cough was heard, and I turned to see Ianto standing there, with a slightly disgruntled expression on his face. He'd had the foresight to put his clothes back on, at least. Even his tie looked immaculate.
I was standing in the presence of my jealous lover; butt-naked, with my hands intimately caressing the face of a handsome man, a man that Ianto was already convinced I was having a torrid affair with. It didn't look good, I suppose.
Ianto held out some clothing. "You seemed in a hurry, so I bought you some trousers and a t-shirt. In case you were cold." His voice was slightly clipped, but he wore a pleasant smile on his face as he spoke. Ever the professional, my Ianto.
I took my hands away from the Doctor's face, feeling self-conscious, and took the garments. "Ah. Yeah. Thanks. You know the Doctor, right? You met... well, on computer screen, a few days ago. He's the one who... You know." I gave up floundering and instead hurriedly pulled on the clothes.
Ianto nodded, the fixed smile on his face making me nervous. "Of course. Nice to meet you in the flesh at last, Doctor." He nodded politely at the Time Lord. Then Ianto looked pointedly at me. I might have been imagining it, but I'm sure there was emphasis on the word 'flesh'. The Doctor merely nodded once in response. Again... not like him at all.
"Tea." said Ianto. "I'll go and make some tea while you two... talk." He turned on his heel. The sound of his footsteps faded away, and then there was a deafening silence.
The Doctor was standing still, looking at me. "Ianto Jones, isn't it?" he asked, moving his head towards the space where Ianto had been standing a moment ago. I nodded.
"He's your..." he waved a pale hand in the air, all long fingers. I waited for him to finish the sentence that he was finding so uncomfortable to complete. A little impishly, perhaps.
"...Partner," he finished lamely.
I nodded. "Boyfriend. My lover. Yep."
The Doctor looked down at the ground. "You're braver than I am, Jack." He put both hands over his face and I heard a barely audible sob.
I crossed over, put an arm around his shoulders, and squeezed.
"You," I said softly into his ear. "In my office, now."
To be continued
>> Chapter Two
>> Chapter Three
>> Chapter Four
>> Chapter Five
>> Chapter Six
>> Chapter Seven
>> Chapter Eight
>> Chapter Nine
>> Chapter Ten
>> Chapter Eleven
>> Chapter Twelve
>> Chapter Thirteen
>> Chapter Fourteen
>> Chapter Fifteen
>> Chapter Sixteen
>> Chapter Seventeen
>> Chapter Eighteen
>> Chapter Nineteen
>> Chapter Twenty
>> Chapter Twenty One
>> Chapter Twenty Two
>> Chapter Twenty Three
>> Chapter Twenty Four
>> Chapter Twenty Five
>> Chapter Twenty Six
>> Chapter Twenty Seven
>> Chapter Twenty Eight
I'm currently writing Chapter 4, and it does get better, so stick with me. (And yes, there will eventually be slash. Lots and lots of lovely slash. In the meantime, just enjoy the anguish...)
Title: Belonging - Chapter One: Prologue
Fandom: Doctor Who/Torchwood
Characters: This Chapter - Jack/Ianto, Ten
Rating: This Chapter - PG (will be NC-17 overall)
Spoilers: DW: The Stolen Earth, Journey's End
Disclaimer: The BBC own it all, the little tinkers`
Warnings: Non-explicit m/m slash | angst | hurt/comfort
Description:
This is set immediately after the events of 'The Stolen Earth' / 'Journey's End'
The Torchwood team are struggling to get back to normal after recent shattering events, when the Doctor turns up in the Torchwood Hub in the middle of the night; alone, heartbroken, guilt-ridden, and needing somewhere to belong.
Comments, as ever, would be much loved.
"I don't suppose you've got any tea? Oh, by the way, wasn't sure if you knew or not, but you're naked."
Chapter One: Prologue
I came back, just like I'd promised.
I returned to the Hub via the main entrance, to find pieces of shattered Dalek casing littering the ground, and a dishevelled Ianto and Gwen attempting to tidy up the place.
I had Ianto in my arms in seconds, his hot body pressed against mine, both of us shaking with relief. Gwen joined us after a moment, and I held them both tightly, thankful to whatever deities exist that I hadn't lost them. I told Gwen to forget the cleaning up, just go home to Rhys. She didn't need telling twice.
Ianto and I spent the rest of the night making up for lost time.
***
It was three days later, and we'd gone into a sort of post-stress stasis, all of us. I'd phoned Gwen a couple of days ago and told her to take some time off. The admin and red tape involved in recruiting Martha and Mickey as Torchwood employees had been put back for a while; Martha was tying up loose ends in London, and Mickey was... I don't know what he was doing. Emptying the mini-bar and watching pornography in the nice hotel I'd booked him into, maybe. That was fine by me.
The Hub was still a mess; broken furniture, paper and assorted debris was scattered all over the floor. We'd left it as it was, for now. I think even the Rift was getting over its own shock; there'd been no activity since I got back.
It was the early hours. Ianto and I were squashed together in my bunk, the tiny underground room which contained my bed and not much else. Ianto always complained that it wasn't big enough for two, but I liked us being crammed in together, like two rabbits in a warren. It made me feel safe.
Ianto was asleep in my arms, cooling naked flesh pressed against mine. I was contemplating going to sleep for a while myself. I don't need much sleep, and when I do succumb I often have bad dreams, but that night I felt like I needed it. Besides... Ianto usually woke up feeling horny, and I needed to keep up my strength. I'm a very old man, after all. I smiled to myself in the dark.
As soon as my eyes closed, I heard something, above us.
My heart knew what that sound was, even as my brain caught up. I'd recognise it anywhere. The noise was getting louder, reverberating around the walls of the Hub; an eerie, grinding, wailing sound.
I felt a flutter of eyelashes against my chest as Ianto woke. "What the...?" he muttered drowsily.
I extricated myself from his grasp as quickly as I could without knocking him out of bed, and leapt up and out of my bunk. Nervous excitement and - dare I say it - joy, was already fluttering in my stomach, to the extent that I didn't give Ianto so much as a backwards glance as I left him behind, sitting dazed and bewildered in a crumpled nest of blankets.
In retrospect, maybe that was a little inconsiderate of me.
***
I skidded to a halt in the main chamber. It was there, large as life, slap bang in the middle of the room: seven foot two, walls of blue. The TARDIS. Strewn paperwork had blown out in all directions under it and the ship had miraculously managed to land in a clear spot.
The door opened, and then the Doctor was standing there, bright light from inside the ship casting him into silhouette.
I wasn't sure what expression to arrange my face into as he emerged. Charming welcome, anticipated concern, flirty smirk, bemused-but- hey-its-great-to-see-ya?
I settled for the latter as the Time Lord stepped out. As soon as I saw him properly in the more subtle light of the Hub, I felt my face blanch.
He didn't look ill, or injured. He just looked... lost. Completely desolate. His face was etched with lines of grief and painful emotion; the whites of his eyes reddened, irises darkened with the weight of a hundred universes bearing down on his slender shoulders.
He was in only his shirt-sleeves and brown suit trousers. He'd dispensed with the tie. Even his hair was flat.
I'd never seen the Doctor like this before. Even in the most desperate of situations, he kept up an air of manic energy; a cheerful demeanour, no matter how false. He never gave up.
I took a step forward, unsure now of how to greet him. "I'd say long time, no see," I ventured. "But it's only been a few days. Still missed you, though." I smiled warmly.
The Doctor tried to smile back, but it wasn't very convincing. He stuck both hands in his pockets.
"I'm sorry to barge on in you like this," he said. His voice was quiet, almost cracking.
I held my hands out. "Oh, hey Doc.... Mi casa, su casa, you know that. Is everything... okay?"
The Doctor looked round in mock interest. "So this is your Torchwood Hub. Very nice. I mean... I think you could do with hiring a cleaner..." I was still staring at him expectantly, and at last he seemed to notice. "Sorry. Yeah, I'm..." he swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing prominently in his throat. "I'm alright."
I raised an eyebrow. "Isn't that your secret code for 'really not alright at all'?"
The Doctor blinked. "That's what Donna says. I mean... Oh, Jack." He seemed to sag, and that was all I needed.
I went over to him, took his face in both of my hands. "Tell me what's wrong," I said gently. "Where's that other handsome Doctor, the spare one? The one I was hoping you'd give me for Christmas?" There was no amused response. My brow furrowed. "Is Rose okay? Donna? What the hell happened? You're scaring me."
The Doctor brought up an arm to scratch his ear awkwardly, but didn't dislodge my hands. "I don't suppose you've got any tea? Oh, by the way, wasn't sure if you knew or not, but you're naked."
I looked down, and saw that he was right. In my haste, I'd completely forgotten. I blushed. And I never blush.
A sharp, fake cough was heard, and I turned to see Ianto standing there, with a slightly disgruntled expression on his face. He'd had the foresight to put his clothes back on, at least. Even his tie looked immaculate.
I was standing in the presence of my jealous lover; butt-naked, with my hands intimately caressing the face of a handsome man, a man that Ianto was already convinced I was having a torrid affair with. It didn't look good, I suppose.
Ianto held out some clothing. "You seemed in a hurry, so I bought you some trousers and a t-shirt. In case you were cold." His voice was slightly clipped, but he wore a pleasant smile on his face as he spoke. Ever the professional, my Ianto.
I took my hands away from the Doctor's face, feeling self-conscious, and took the garments. "Ah. Yeah. Thanks. You know the Doctor, right? You met... well, on computer screen, a few days ago. He's the one who... You know." I gave up floundering and instead hurriedly pulled on the clothes.
Ianto nodded, the fixed smile on his face making me nervous. "Of course. Nice to meet you in the flesh at last, Doctor." He nodded politely at the Time Lord. Then Ianto looked pointedly at me. I might have been imagining it, but I'm sure there was emphasis on the word 'flesh'. The Doctor merely nodded once in response. Again... not like him at all.
"Tea." said Ianto. "I'll go and make some tea while you two... talk." He turned on his heel. The sound of his footsteps faded away, and then there was a deafening silence.
The Doctor was standing still, looking at me. "Ianto Jones, isn't it?" he asked, moving his head towards the space where Ianto had been standing a moment ago. I nodded.
"He's your..." he waved a pale hand in the air, all long fingers. I waited for him to finish the sentence that he was finding so uncomfortable to complete. A little impishly, perhaps.
"...Partner," he finished lamely.
I nodded. "Boyfriend. My lover. Yep."
The Doctor looked down at the ground. "You're braver than I am, Jack." He put both hands over his face and I heard a barely audible sob.
I crossed over, put an arm around his shoulders, and squeezed.
"You," I said softly into his ear. "In my office, now."
To be continued
>> Chapter Two
>> Chapter Three
>> Chapter Four
>> Chapter Five
>> Chapter Six
>> Chapter Seven
>> Chapter Eight
>> Chapter Nine
>> Chapter Ten
>> Chapter Eleven
>> Chapter Twelve
>> Chapter Thirteen
>> Chapter Fourteen
>> Chapter Fifteen
>> Chapter Sixteen
>> Chapter Seventeen
>> Chapter Eighteen
>> Chapter Nineteen
>> Chapter Twenty
>> Chapter Twenty One
>> Chapter Twenty Two
>> Chapter Twenty Three
>> Chapter Twenty Four
>> Chapter Twenty Five
>> Chapter Twenty Six
>> Chapter Twenty Seven
>> Chapter Twenty Eight