m_findlow (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
m_findlow) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fandomweekly2017-02-12 02:10 pm
m_findlow) wrote in fandomweekly2017-02-12 02:10 pm
Entry tags:
[#032] FIGHTING FEARS (TORCHWOOD)
Theme Prompt: #032 Phobia
Title: Fighting fears
Fandom: Torchwood
Rating/Warnings: M / recollections of torture
Bonus: No
Word Count: 1,000 words
Summary: Finding a way back from the Year That Never Was will test both of them.
Ianto knotted the silk scarf around Jack's wrist, receiving a little moan of pleasure. He pulled it tighter, letting it wrap snugly, holding him firm, and Jack made another little noise, arching his back, pressing closer to Ianto's body. Ianto cupped Jack's face and kissed him, unable to express just how happy those sounds made him feel. They'd come such a long way from where they'd been. Ianto didn't know how, but they'd pulled through.
They'd not done a lot of bondage games when they first started out. It was just sex after all; just two people needing a release at the end of the day, no strings attached. Then Jack left with his Doctor and came back to them months later. And when he came back he was different.
Maybe the others hadn't noticed it, but Ianto had. He saw the shadows that lined Jack's face, and the haunted look in those stormy blue eyes that hinted at unspeakable horrors. Jack wouldn't say much about the Year That Never Was. 'Timelines,' he said, as if that explained everything, trying to preserve them by not saying too much. Ianto didn't believe it for a second. How could you preserve something that no longer existed?
The truth of it all came out because of the nightmares. The Master had locked him away, torturing him, killing him, every day for a year, whilst the world burned under his rule. Whilst he slept he still dreamed of it, still struggling against his bonds and the Master's touch, with hand or blade. It had all come to a head one night when the terrors took on a life of their own, Jack trapped in one of his nightmares, mistaking Ianto for the Master, strangling him in their bed and moments away from snapping his neck in two before waking. What he'd nearly done had terrified him.
Days of sleepless nights stretched out until Jack knew he couldn't take it anymore. When the team left for the night, he resolved himself, gripping the cold metal cuffs in his hand and seeking out Ianto. He lead the young man down to the coldest, darkest cells and began speaking without preamble.
'I need you to lock me up,' he said, holding out the handcuffs.
Ianto rolled his eyes. 'Are we playing games? Only I left my leather whip at home,' he joked. He caught the concerned look in Jack's eyes and the smile fell from his face.
'This is about what happened the other night, isn't it?'
Jack nodded solemnly.
'This job is dangerous,' Jack began, 'but I can't afford to lose it if something happens to me. Your lives could depend on it.'
Ianto looked down at the cuffs and understood. Jack was worried about getting locked up and having a mental breakdown. Given the strength of his nightmares, Ianto believed it possible. But what did Jack want him to do?
Jack seemed to sense the question. 'I need you to desensitize me. I don't know any other way.'
Ianto slowly took hold of the handcuffs. They were ice cold, even though they'd been in his hands. He looked at the cell next to them. These were unused, deemed too brutal for any captives, cold and dark, old chains hanging from the walls. The old regime would have loved using these to house aliens.
'You don't think maybe we should start with baby steps?' Ianto asked, worried.
'We don't have time for softly, softly.' Jack pulled a black cloth from his pocket, a blindfold Ianto realised. 'Please,' Jack begged. 'I can't lead if I can't control my fears.'
Reluctantly, Ianto clipped one of the cuffs around his wrist, and Jack's breath hitched in his throat.
'Loop it over the chain up there,' Jack instructed.
Ianto did so, clipping the other cuff, suspending Jack's arms overhead, and wrapping the blindfold over Jack's eyes. Already he could see Jack's chest rising and falling with sharp, ragged breaths. Panic set in quicker than he expected, and when he placed a hand on Jack's chest, he could feel his heart pounding wildly. He ran his hand further down Jack's torso, trying to calm him, but unknowingly replicating the motions of the Master, the tender touches he made just before plunging a knife though Jack's torso. Jack tugged hard against the chains, his whole body trembling.
'Don't,' he pleaded, and Ianto couldn't be sure if he was begging for mercy or whether he was ordering Ianto not to release him. He felt a vile anger surge up inside him. Jack had been their leader and hero, and the Master had returned him to them a scarred and scared little boy. He hated him for it. He was glad the Master was dead. He'd never known what it felt like to want to kill another man in cold blood, but he would have killed the Master for what he'd done to Jack and been glad of it.
He stroked Jack's face, littering it with soft kisses, making soft murmurs that he was safe. He hummed gently as he kissed other parts of his body, caressing his wrists where they were bound, pressing his body close and letting Jack breathe in his scent.
Still Jack's body trembled and shook, his breathing panicked, heaving in lungfuls of air as if there was none, and whimpering frightened little sounds. Nothing Ianto did seemed to calm him. He was trapped in the nightmare with no way out. Ianto couldn't take it anymore, unlocking the cuffs that held him in place, tearing off the blindfold, and letting Jack collapse on the floor where he wrapped his arms tightly around him, hugging him for dear life as he sobbed. They huddled there until both of them had finally stopped shaking.
'I'm sorry,' Ianto apologised, head buried against Jack's. 'I couldn't do it anymore.'
'It's okay,' Jack replied, trying to reciprocate the comforting presence. 'We'll try again tomorrow.'
Ianto didn't think he could, but he'd do it for Jack.
Title: Fighting fears
Fandom: Torchwood
Rating/Warnings: M / recollections of torture
Bonus: No
Word Count: 1,000 words
Summary: Finding a way back from the Year That Never Was will test both of them.
Ianto knotted the silk scarf around Jack's wrist, receiving a little moan of pleasure. He pulled it tighter, letting it wrap snugly, holding him firm, and Jack made another little noise, arching his back, pressing closer to Ianto's body. Ianto cupped Jack's face and kissed him, unable to express just how happy those sounds made him feel. They'd come such a long way from where they'd been. Ianto didn't know how, but they'd pulled through.
They'd not done a lot of bondage games when they first started out. It was just sex after all; just two people needing a release at the end of the day, no strings attached. Then Jack left with his Doctor and came back to them months later. And when he came back he was different.
Maybe the others hadn't noticed it, but Ianto had. He saw the shadows that lined Jack's face, and the haunted look in those stormy blue eyes that hinted at unspeakable horrors. Jack wouldn't say much about the Year That Never Was. 'Timelines,' he said, as if that explained everything, trying to preserve them by not saying too much. Ianto didn't believe it for a second. How could you preserve something that no longer existed?
The truth of it all came out because of the nightmares. The Master had locked him away, torturing him, killing him, every day for a year, whilst the world burned under his rule. Whilst he slept he still dreamed of it, still struggling against his bonds and the Master's touch, with hand or blade. It had all come to a head one night when the terrors took on a life of their own, Jack trapped in one of his nightmares, mistaking Ianto for the Master, strangling him in their bed and moments away from snapping his neck in two before waking. What he'd nearly done had terrified him.
Days of sleepless nights stretched out until Jack knew he couldn't take it anymore. When the team left for the night, he resolved himself, gripping the cold metal cuffs in his hand and seeking out Ianto. He lead the young man down to the coldest, darkest cells and began speaking without preamble.
'I need you to lock me up,' he said, holding out the handcuffs.
Ianto rolled his eyes. 'Are we playing games? Only I left my leather whip at home,' he joked. He caught the concerned look in Jack's eyes and the smile fell from his face.
'This is about what happened the other night, isn't it?'
Jack nodded solemnly.
'This job is dangerous,' Jack began, 'but I can't afford to lose it if something happens to me. Your lives could depend on it.'
Ianto looked down at the cuffs and understood. Jack was worried about getting locked up and having a mental breakdown. Given the strength of his nightmares, Ianto believed it possible. But what did Jack want him to do?
Jack seemed to sense the question. 'I need you to desensitize me. I don't know any other way.'
Ianto slowly took hold of the handcuffs. They were ice cold, even though they'd been in his hands. He looked at the cell next to them. These were unused, deemed too brutal for any captives, cold and dark, old chains hanging from the walls. The old regime would have loved using these to house aliens.
'You don't think maybe we should start with baby steps?' Ianto asked, worried.
'We don't have time for softly, softly.' Jack pulled a black cloth from his pocket, a blindfold Ianto realised. 'Please,' Jack begged. 'I can't lead if I can't control my fears.'
Reluctantly, Ianto clipped one of the cuffs around his wrist, and Jack's breath hitched in his throat.
'Loop it over the chain up there,' Jack instructed.
Ianto did so, clipping the other cuff, suspending Jack's arms overhead, and wrapping the blindfold over Jack's eyes. Already he could see Jack's chest rising and falling with sharp, ragged breaths. Panic set in quicker than he expected, and when he placed a hand on Jack's chest, he could feel his heart pounding wildly. He ran his hand further down Jack's torso, trying to calm him, but unknowingly replicating the motions of the Master, the tender touches he made just before plunging a knife though Jack's torso. Jack tugged hard against the chains, his whole body trembling.
'Don't,' he pleaded, and Ianto couldn't be sure if he was begging for mercy or whether he was ordering Ianto not to release him. He felt a vile anger surge up inside him. Jack had been their leader and hero, and the Master had returned him to them a scarred and scared little boy. He hated him for it. He was glad the Master was dead. He'd never known what it felt like to want to kill another man in cold blood, but he would have killed the Master for what he'd done to Jack and been glad of it.
He stroked Jack's face, littering it with soft kisses, making soft murmurs that he was safe. He hummed gently as he kissed other parts of his body, caressing his wrists where they were bound, pressing his body close and letting Jack breathe in his scent.
Still Jack's body trembled and shook, his breathing panicked, heaving in lungfuls of air as if there was none, and whimpering frightened little sounds. Nothing Ianto did seemed to calm him. He was trapped in the nightmare with no way out. Ianto couldn't take it anymore, unlocking the cuffs that held him in place, tearing off the blindfold, and letting Jack collapse on the floor where he wrapped his arms tightly around him, hugging him for dear life as he sobbed. They huddled there until both of them had finally stopped shaking.
'I'm sorry,' Ianto apologised, head buried against Jack's. 'I couldn't do it anymore.'
'It's okay,' Jack replied, trying to reciprocate the comforting presence. 'We'll try again tomorrow.'
Ianto didn't think he could, but he'd do it for Jack.
no subject