Title: Welcome To Your Nightmare
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Tenth Doctor/Ten.5
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: PG-13
Table: 1
Prompt: 68, Kidnap
Note: Continuation of Out of the Shadows.
Author's Note: The human version of the Doctor is being referred to as John Smith in this fic, since it's the Doctor's human alias and his clone needed a name.
Author's Note: Spoilers for Journey's End, somewhat. This is an completely alternate take on the ending of Season Four.
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the Tenth Doctor, or his human clone. Please do not sue.

***

The Doctor glanced over at John as they walked along the nearly deserted street, reaching for the other man's hand and twining their fingers together. He was gratified to see his lover smile back at him, returning the gesture by tightening those long, slender fingers around his.

Somehow, 21st-century Earth seemed to be as safe a place as any for the two of them to be. He'd wanted to stay here for a while -- though not in the area of Cardiff, so he could avoid Jack and the rest of the Torchwood team. Being in New York had been the best idea he could come up with.

The threat that John Hart represented seemed to have melted into the background; it had been over a week now, and nothing out of the ordinary had happened. But the Time Lord didn't want to let himself be lulled into a state of complacence; he needed to stay alert, to make sure that John didn't wander too far from from him.

They'd both been on their guard, not going anywhere that didn't seem crowded with people and relatively safe. And so far, the Doctor hadn't felt that peculiar prickling at the back of his neck that signaled to him that there was some sort of imminent danger.

Still, he was trying to be watchful. Hart was a slippery bastard; there was no telling when or where the man would surface. And he wasn't going to risk anything happening to John -- not when Hart's threats still rang in his ears and made him shudder every time he thought of them.

"I'm going to turn the tables on you. I'm going to take away the most precious thing in your life, the one thing that you live for the most. I'm going to make you feel the pain of loss. I'm going to take away what you hold most dear. And there's nothing you can do to stop me."

No. Those words weren't true. Hart had only flung them out in anger, in an attempt to rattle him. He was convinced of that; the words were without substance, meaningless unless he let the way in which they'd been said give them meaning.

He'd tried not to let John know just how much those threats had shaken him, but it had been impossible to hide how he felt. John had that strange empathy with him -- obviously because they were cut from the same cloth, because John was literally a part of him. He'd never be able to hide anything from this man; John would always be able to see through any dissembling.

Of course, the other man didn't know exactly what had been said, how serious the threats againt him sounded. The Doctor had made sure of that; even though he couldn't hide his uneasiness from John, he'd successfully been able to keep the worst of his worries a secret.

And John had promised that he would stay close by the Doctor's side wherever they went, and take no unnecessary risks. That was something, at least. He knew that John wouldn't actually go looking for trouble; but like him, the other man was probably a magnet for trouble, and with that human curiosity combined with his Time Lord brain .... well, anything could happen.

Nothing had happened yet, but he was determined to keep a close watch over his lover. Was it his imagination, or did John also seem to be watching him closely, making sure to stay by him and keep their hands entwined? It certainly seemed that he was doing that more often of late.

Not that he minded, the Doctor told himself with a slight inward smile. He liked the feeling of having John close by his side, the sensation of the other man's hand sliding into his. It gave him a security he'd really never known, even when he'd had companions who had been with him for a while. It was the security of knowing that he was loved.

People had cared for him in the past; he knew that. He wouldn't even think of saying that there hadn't been a close friendship between himself and all of his companions. And with Jack, there had been much more than a friendship. He'd been closer to Jack than he ever had to anyone.

Until John had come into his life, of course. He'd never had the sort of relationship with anyone in the past that he had with John. And it wasn't only because John was a part of him, he told himself firmly. It was because he loved the other man with a fierce, protective love that he'd never felt before, never in all of his lives.

He looked over at the other man, squeezing John's hand in his. John's eyes met his, a smile curving his lips as he moved closer to the Doctor. The Time Lord was about to slip his arm around John's slender waist, but thought better of it. He didn't want to draw too much attention to the two of them, after all.

"I know you're still worried about me," John said softly, voicing the fears that had been going through the Doctor's mind. "Don't, please. I'll be all right. Don't let the threats of some psycho keep you all shaken up like this."

"It's impossible not to worry, love," the Doctor answered, the words coming out on a sigh. "You didn't hear the conviction in his voice when he was talking to me. He's after you, John, and I'm terrified that if I let down my guard for one second, he'll find a way to take you out of my life permanently. And I couldn't bear that."

"He's not going to kill me," John murmured, shaking his head. He didn't sound annoyed or upset; only regretful that the Doctor was having to deal with all of this worry. "I may not have met him face to face, but I can't believe anyone could be that .... petty."

"Then you don't know John Hart at all," the Doctor told him grimly. "I believe he's willing to do anything he can to punish me for, in his eyes, 'making' Jack leave him. He holds me responsible for that; I think he always will. No revenge will ever be enough for him."

He could feel John shiver next to him, and a wave of guilt swept over him. He had no right to make John feel uneasy; even though it was the other man that Hart was zeroing in on, he didn't want his own trepidation about what could happen to communicate itself to the man he loved.

Squeezing John's hand again, he glanced at the other man, hoping that he wasn't being overly concerned about something that he shouldn't be worried about. "John, I'm sorry. I don't mean to turn this into something bigger than it should be. You're probably right; he only wanted to threaten me, to rattle me a bit. He wouldn't --"

The Doctor's words cut off when they walked past the entrance to an alleyway, the dimness of it looming up beside them. John was closest to the alley, walking less than a foot away from the Doctor, joined to the other man only by their entwined hands. With a suddenness that was utterly shocking, John's hand slipped from his, the other man disappearing from sight.

The Doctor stood on the pavement for several long moments, casting frightened glances in every direction. What in the world had happened? John had been right there beside him one moment, and the next -- gone. Where was he? He couldn't have just vanished into thin air ....

They'd been walking past that ominous-looking alleyway .... the Doctor's dark eyes focused on the yawning gap of darkness between the buildings, squinting and straining his eyes to see into it. He wasn't sure -- but he thought that he could see a slight movement deep in the shadows.

Without stopping to think of what could be hiding within those shadows, the Doctor ran into the alley, taking the sonic screwdriver out of his pocket. He could use its light to see by -- and perhaps use it to frighten whatever it was that might be lurking in that darkness.

"Put your little gadget away, Doctor. It's not going to intimidate me, and you may end up causing more damage than you're prepared to deal with."

The Doctor drew in a sharp intake of breath, his body stiffening and tensing. He knew that voice -- it had haunted his dreams for the past week, and he'd thought he would go mad from turning the words it had poured into his ear over and over in his mind.

A circle of dim light blossomed in the darkness of the alley, enclosing the Doctor and the man he was facing. Or, rather, two men.

He was facing John Hart, the other man staring at him with a wolfish expression on his saturnine features, one side of his upper lip lifting into a twisted parody of what he supposed could be called a smile, if he was in any mood to be that generous.

John was in front of Hart, one arm twisted behind his back, an evil-looking gun of some sort pressed against his side. He, too, was staring at the Doctor, fear and uncertainty in his gaze, his lips parted, his breath coming in soft gasps.

"Let him go, Hart," the Doctor ground out through clenched teeth. He slowly dropped the sonic screwdriver back into his pocket; Hart had sounded as though he would brook no nonsense, and he wasn't going to risk that madman attempting to do anything to John in the heat of the moment if the Doctor startled him in any way.

"Now, why would I do that?" Hart shot him a grin, dragging John backwards a few steps. "I made you a promise, as I recall. And this is just the first part of making sure that I keep it. The first step in a series of them."

"If you want revenge, then take it out on me," the Doctor told him, desperately trying to keep his voice on an even keel. He couldn't let this man know just how frightened he was; one wrong move, one wrong word, and he could lose John in a matter of seconds.

"Oh, but I am taking my revenge on you, Doctor," Hart told him, his voice sounding almost cheerful. "Knowing that your lover's been kidnapped, that I have him and that I'm doing whatever I like with him and you're helpless to stop me, is going to tear you apart. Much more so than anything I could dream of doing to you physically."

The Doctor could only stand there, his eyes on John; he was terrified to look away from his lover's face, afraid to look into Hart's eyes and see the gloating, evil look he knew would be there. He couldn't move, couldn't even speak; anything he did or said could spell disaster, for both himself and the man he loved.

"You'll be reunited with him at some point, Doctor. After I'm done with him, that is." Hart's voice rang in his ears, sounding almost gleeful. "Take a good look at him. It'll be the last look you have at each other for a while."

With that, Hart released John's arm for a just a moment, to press a button on the wrist transporter he wore -- and disappeared into whatever dimension he'd chosen to hide away in, taking John along with him.

The Doctor tried to reach out, to somehow put himself into their path and be taken along to whatever destination Hart was transporting his love to. And he almost managed it. Almost. His fingers brushed John's sleeve for just a moment, a last desperate touch.

But he was milliseconds too late. Even as he lunged forward, the flash of light that surrounded the two of them was gone -- and he was left standing alone in the darkness.

"No!" The Doctor's agonized shriek bounced off the walls of the alley, ringing in his ears, his scream the last thing he heard before his legs gave way and he crumpled to the ground with his face buried in his hands and despair in his hearts.

***

Next story in series - Don't Speak.