Title: Danger Zone
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Tenth Doctor/Owen Harper
Fandom: Doctor Who/Torchwood
Rating: NC-17
Table: 50_darkfics
Prompt: 88, Rope
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 Owen Harper, unfortunately. Please do not sue.

***

The Doctor swallowed hard behind his gag, wishing that he could scream, make some kind of sound, just in case Owen was somewhere near and might be able to hear him. But he was helpless, forcibly reduced to silence.

He'd told his young companion so much about the Master, but now Owen was going to be able to see how his ingenious, devilishly cruel mind worked -- that is, if Owen found him. He had no idea what might have happened to the other man.

He could only hope that Owen had managed to escape the Master's clutches -- and something told him that his companion was safe and looking for him. Owen wouldn't let himself fall into that maniac's grasp; he had too much experience in dealing with situations like this.

But if he thought the Doctor was in danger, he could very well turn himself over to the Master, though the Doctor sincerely hoped that idea hadn't crossed the younger man's mind. He needed Owen to be free, not trapped as he himself was.

The Time Lord winced as he tried to shift his position, the movement drawing a muffled cry from his throat. The Master had certainly outdone himself this time, he thought bitterly, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to calm his rapid breathing.

He was on his knees, hands bound behind his back -- bound with the same length of rough rope that was tied intricately around his genitals, so that the slightest movement he made pulled the rope taut. Even drawing a deep breath was increasingly hard to do.

The longer that he was in this position, the more cramped his muscles became -- but it would be impossible for him to stretch his arms in any way, unless he wanted to risk doing serious damage to himself in the process.

There was no telling how long his body could remain in this position before his muscles would spasm against his will -- and he could only imagine the kind of pain he would be in when that happened. He didn't want to think about it.

He ran the risk of possibly castrating himself when his muscles could no longer keep perfectly still; the Master had been sure to explain that in minute detail, smiling as he'd done so. He'd certainly enjoyed that idea far too much.

The Doctor whimpered softly when the muscles in his arms twitched again, pulling at the twisted rope; it slid between his cheeks, rubbing against his entrance, the rough fibers feeling as if they were tearing into his skin with each movement.

If Owen found him before his muscles locked and spasmed, then they could escape back to the Tardis. But as the seconds ticked by, he was becoming more and more convinced that the other man might have been captured.

True, Owen hadn't been his companion for very long, and he certainly wasn't used to dealing with a situation like this. But he'd worked for Torchwood; he knew what it was like to face danger every time he'd been called out to investigate with the team.

The Doctor swallowed hard behind his gag, straining his ears to hear, hoping that Owen might be somewhere near and that he would make some sound. But he heard nothing around him but silence; not a footstep, not even a breath.

Nothing but his own ragged breathing that seemed to echo in his ears. How long would it take Owen to realize that he was in trouble and try to find him? And could this be some kind of trap, for the Master to be able to capture them both and do away with his companion?

He couldn't let that happen, the Doctor told himself, closing his eyes and trying to dismiss that disturbing thought from his mind. Whatever happened to him, he couldn't let Owen be harmed. He didn't want the young man to come walking into a danger zone for his sake.

He'd managed to rescue the young man from death once -- and he would do it again, if it came down to that. He couldn't say that he loved Owen; he hadn't known the other man long enough to be sure of his feelings. But there was a definite attraction between them.

That had been there since he'd first taken Owen to New Earth and known that he would get his life back. Truth be told, it had been there since before then; he'd found Owen rather attractive since the first time Jack had introduced them in the Hub.

How long ago had that been? He didn't remember, but he did remember that he'd spent quite a lot of time thinking about Owen before he'd put the young man out of his mind, telling himself that Owen wasn't destined to be a part of his life.

And now .... now, Owen was his companion, his only chance for getting out of here. He definitely couldn't help himself; he had to count on his companion to help him. All he could do was wait, and hope that Owen would be able to find him.

Behind him, the Doctor could hear the door of the room he was in creak open; he had to fight to keep himself from stiffening and pulling the rope twisted around his cock and balls taut again. A muffled sob caught in the back of his throat; was this the Master, back with some new torment, some other torturous way to attempt to break him?

"Doctor!" He could have fainted with relief; the voice was Owen's, the horror in his voice obvious. He'd been found; now he just had to try to hold on until Owen could figure out a way to get him free and they could get out of here.

He must present quite a sight, he told himself wryly, closing his eyes and trying to make himself relax. One that Owen would more than likely remember for a long time to come. He himself wouldn't want to remember any of this. He'd rather push it completely out of his mind.

Owen was standing beside him, not touching him, obviously trying to take stock of the situation. The Time Lord raised his head, slowly, carefully; he shook his head at the young man, hoping that Owen would realize the need to do whatever had to be done slowly.

The other man nodded, swallowing audibly; he'd apparently realized the gravity of the situation. "I'm going to have to cut those ropes at the same time, Doctor. There's .... two of them, and I don't think they're meant to be taken off you one at a time."

The Doctor bowed his head, leaving whatever had to be done up to Owen's judgement. His muscles were already starting to tighten; if the other man didn't hurry, there was no telling what he might inadvertently do to himself.

He didn't see the look of fear on Owen's face as he took the small pen-sized laser out of his pocket and tried to steady his hand, the quick glance of his eyes upwards as though he was beseeching some silent deity to help him with what he was about to do.

All he felt was an overwhelming sense of relief when the rough ropes loosened, and he could slump forward without worrying about the likelihood of castrating himself in the process, caught and supported in Owen's strong arms.

Owen was kneeling beside him, loosening the gag and pulling it away from his mouth, his fingers working at the ropes, first the ones wound around his genitals, then the cords binding his wrists. He swallowed hard, wanting to say something, but his mouth was too dry to form words.

"Do you think you can walk?" Owen whispered in his ear, his hands moving over the Time Lord's body as if he was checking for any broken bones. The Doctor coughed, trying to clear his throat, before he finally managed to murmur an answer.

"Yes .... don't worry, Owen, I'm not .... completely incapacitated." He coughed again, wishing that he could get the taste of that musty cloth out of his mouth. "I don't think the Tardis is far away. And if I recall correctly from being dragged here, this isn't exactly a populated area."

Owen nodded, looking grim. "No, it's not -- but that's not exactly working in our favour. The Master, or people working for him, could show up any second -- and there's nobody around to help us if they do. We have to get going, now."

The Doctor nodded, getting to his feet and looking around for his clothes. Ah, there they were, thrown into a corner of the room. And for once, not ripped to shreds, either. He made his way to the pile of fabric, pulling his trousers back on with shaking hands.

His companion was there beside him when he took a hesitant step towards the door, one arm around his waist, supporting him. He turned to look at Owen, opening his mouth to thank the other man, when Owen placed a finger against his lips and shook his head.

"No thanks needed," he said softly. "This is part of what I'm here for, remember? To get you out of trouble if you need me -- and to watch your back. Though I haven't done the best job of that so far, and I'm sorry about that."

"I think you've done the best you can with what you've known," the Doctor murmured, leaning gratefully on Owen's shoulder as they made their way across the room. "Let's get out of here -- we can talk about whatever your 'job' is later, when we're safe."

"Somehow, I don't think we'll ever be that," Owen told him, reaching for the door with one hand and keeping his other arm firmly around the Time Lord's waist. The Doctor took a deep breath, steeling himself for whatever might be out there between them and the safety of his ship.

***

Next story in series - Dirty Little Secret.