Title: Far From Over
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Ianto Jones/Tenth Doctor
Fandom: Torchwood/Doctor Who
Rating: R
Table: 5
Prompt: 24, Freedom
Author's Note: Continuation of Rescue Mission.
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own Ianto Jones or the Tenth Doctor. Please do not sue.

***

Ianto looked around him as they stepped out of the Tardis, a frown crossing his face. Wherever they were, it wasn't somewhere he'd have expected the Master to bring the Doctor to. He'd imagined something like the warehouse the Master had held them both captive in, not a place that looked comfortably furnished, like the interior of some country house.

A very large house, he told himself, realizing that the cavernous room was big enough to dwarf the Tardis. It could have held twenty of her, he thought, turning slowly, taking in their surroundings. If this was only one room of the place that the Doctor was being held captive in, how were they going to locate him?

Jack's voice cut through his thoughts, and he glanced over at the Captain, to see Jack looking at him expectantly. "You've got to give us some kind of direction, Ianto," he said softly, gesturing around them. "Once we know which way to go, hopefully we'll be able to find him quickly and get the hell out of here."

Ianto swallowed hard, nodding and reaching for the pendant again. This time, the pain that crashed into him was more intense than it had ever been; it was probably because they were so near to the Doctor, he thought, his senses dazed. He stumbled forward, raising an arm and pointing to an arched doorway, feeling as though he was being pulled in that direction.

"There. He's there," he managed to choke out, releasing the pendant and leaning against the wall. "He's close, I can feel it." He could barely speak, his voice choking in his throat, his words garbled. "He's getting weaker every minute, Jack. I think he's losing a lot of blood. We have to find him. We have to."

Jack nodded, heading for the door, pausing on his way to wrap a supportive arm around Ianto's waist. "We'll find him, Ianto. He'll be all right, I promise you." Ianto looked over at Jack, wondering how the immortal could make that kind of a promise. There was no guarantee that the Doctor would be all right, and all three of them knew it.

Ianto squared his shoulders, following Jack through the door. He could almost feel himself being pulled in the direction they were heading in, as though the Doctor was some sort of homing beacon drawing him along. He caught Owen staring at him, and he frowned, wondering why he had such a look of wonder on his face.

Owen seemed to realize that Ianto was confused as to why he was so focused; his eyes met the young Welshman's, and he raised a hand to point at Ianto's chest. "Look," he whispered, his eyes focused on the pendant. "It's .... pulsing. It's almost like that necklace is alive. I've never seen anything like it."

Ianto looked down at his chest, his own eyes widening. The pendant was growing brighter with each step they took, the glow pulsing as if .... it was measuring a heartbeat. Or two heartbeats, he thought, his steps quickening. They were close to the Doctor; he could feel it. He could feel the Gallifreyan's presence, looming in his mind, pulling him forward.

He stopped a moment later, closing his eyes and catching his breath. He could hear a soft whimper, barely audible, but there all the same. It sounded like the Doctor. He'd heard that sound often enough; he knew every nuance of his lover's voice, every sound that the Doctor's vocal cords could possibly make.

"That way," he said, his voice strained and weak, pushing ahead of Jack and Owen to head in the direction of an arched doorway leading off the large room they were in. It couldn't be this easy, a voice screamed inside his head. This was too simple. There had to be more to finding the Doctor and rescuing him than this.

Ianto reached the door, catching onto the edge of it and standing stock-still when his eyes focused on the room spread out before him. He wanted to scream, to let out some kind of sound, but the voice in his head held him back. He would startle the Doctor into moving if he made any sort of noise, and he knew that was something he didn't want to do.

His suddenly rubbery legs carried him towards the bed where the Doctor lay, his hand moving to his mouth to hold back a cry. There was no way they could free the Doctor without causing the Time Lord more pain, and he wasn't sure that he could watch his beloved suffer that much. Ianto had to choke back tears, forcing himself to stay quiet.

Jack and Owen were on either side of him, Jack's eyes assessing the situation. He spoke softly, reaching out to place a hand on the small of the Doctor's back as he did so. "Doctor, don't move. We're going to get you out of here, I promise. You just have to be as still as you can so we can take care of this."

There was an answering groan from the Time Lord, the sound muffled by the ball gag in his mouth. Ianto could have sworn it sounded as though the Doctor had said "no," as if he was protesting being rescued. But that was impossible; it was crazy. He couldn't want to stay like this; Ianto could feel his pain. There was no way anyone could want to go through that.

Owen's voice was low, barely a whisper. "There has to be some way to get that thing out of him. If we don't, and he moves too suddenly .... he'll be torn apart. He might not bleed to death, but he'd be in a lot of needless pain." He studied the ropes that went from the base of the hook to the Doctor's wrists and the leather collar, a frown on his face.

Jack bit his lip, staring at the ropes that bound the Doctor. "If we cut one rope, then it puts too much weight on the other -- and he gets torn up either way. The only thing we can do is cut both of them at the same time. If we can synchronize enough to do it." He closed his eyes, taking a breath as if to strengthen himself.

"Three of them, Jack. There's three of them." Ianto pointed a shaking hand at the rope that went from the hook's base between the Doctor's legs to bind his thighs together, then up to fasten to the collar. "All three of them have to be cut at the same time, or that thing gets pulled one way or the other, and it'll tear him to pieces inside."

"There's three of us. So we all cut one rope apiece at the same time." Owen had bent to study the placement of the ropes; he turned his head to look up at Jack and Ianto with a questioning expression. "We can synchronize ourselves on a count. It's the only way I can see to keep from having that hook tear into him."

Jack shook his head, scowling. "What are we going to use? Knives might not cut through the rope at the same rate of speed -- and then he could be more torn up than if we hadn't tried to cut him loose at all. Anything else -- like a laser -- would put him at too much risk, and I won't do that. There's got to be another way."

"We don't have a choice, Jack." Ianto's words were choked, his eyes squeezed closed against the sight in front of him. "We've got to cut him free, or eventually, he's going to have to move. Whatever might happen if we free him couldn't be worse than the damage he'll do to himself when his muscles go numb and can't hold him up on his knees any longer."

Another muffled sob from the Doctor, the sound sharp in the quiet that had fallen after Ianto's words. Ianto bent down to press his lips against the Doctor's bare shoulder, whispering, hoping that the Time Lord could hear him and take comfort in his words. "I'm here, love. We're going to get you out of here, I promise. I'm taking you home and we'll forget this ever happened."

He had to resist the urge to run his hand down the Doctor's arm, over his back, to touch that smooth skin. The need to touch his lover was almost overwhelming; Ianto had to take a deep breath and consciously remove his hand from the Doctor's shoulder before he could step back. It was almost impossible for him to relinquish his physical contact, but he knew that he had to.

"All right." Jack straightened up, a determined look on his features. "We'll have to use these, then." He reached into the pocket of his coat, bringing out three small triangular-shaped objects and handing two of them to Ianto and Owen. "Ianto, point this at the rope tied to that collar. Owen, point yours at the rope around his hands."

The immortal swallowed, kneeling so that he could aim at the rope binding the Doctor's thighs together -- pointing at the short length that stretched from the back of his thighs to the base of the hook buried inside him. "Whatever you do, don't let the light touch his skin. It's a laser -- it can burn right through to the bone."

Ianto nodded, glancing over at Owen. The young doctor was white-faced, but his hands were steady as he aimed the laser at the length of rope stretching from the Doctor's bound wrists to the base of the anal hook. The Doctor didn't make a sound; the room was quiet except for the sounds of their indrawn breaths.

"On the count of three," Jack whispered, his eyes fixed on the rope that the laser in his hand was pointing at. His hand didn't tremble, his gaze was steady; but still, he placed his other hand over the one holding the laser, making sure that he was keeping it steady. "One .... two ..... three. Now!"

Three lasers aimed simultaneously at the ropes that bound the Doctor, three lines of red light jumping through the air with a soft sizzling sound. Almost instantly, the three lengths of rope loosened, falling harmlessly onto the bed around the Doctor. With a soft cry, he fell forward, his knees no longer able to hold him up.

"Get that thing out of him," Ianto whispered, his voice shaky, on the verge of tears. He wasn't quite sure just why he felt the absurd urge to cry; maybe it was because he knew the Doctor was in so much pain, or .... maybe because the hardest part for him was yet to come -- talking to his lover and trying to repair their relationship.

Or maybe it was because the Doctor was out of danger now. He gave himself a mental shake, almost snorting at himself. Out of danger? That wouldn't be true until they were out of here, all four of them. For all he knew, the Master was somewhere near -- and he didn't want to deal with that warped monster if he could help it.

He couldn't stop himself from leaning forward, reaching for the ball gag and gently removing it from the Doctor's mouth. He didn't want to move back, didn't want to give up these precious few seconds of touching his love -- the last seconds he might ever get. Once they'd had a chance to talk, the Doctor might never want to see him again, much less talk with him.

Jack stood up, leaning over the Doctor and looking at Ianto. "Don't let him move, Ianto. I'm going to get this out of him as quickly as I can -- and I don't want him moving while I'm doing it. I don't know how much the part of it that's inside him has already torn him up, and I don't want to make it any worse than it already is."

Ianto nodded, moving closer to the bed and placing a gentle hand on the Doctor's shoulder. The Time Lord turned his face to the side, visibly swallowing, but not making a sound. Owen stepped to Jack's other side, laying his hands on the Doctor's thighs and spreading his legs slightly, nodding at Jack and then looking down at the Doctor.

"Just get it out of him, Jack," he said softly, almost wincing. "Get the worst of the pain over with as fast as you can, then we can carry him back to the Tardis and get him home. I don't know how much I'll be able to help him, but I'll try my best. We just need to get him out of here -- and us as well."

Jack took a deep breath, laying one hand on the Doctor's hip and closing his eyes for a moment. "I'm going to get this thing out of you, Doctor," he murmured, hoping that the Time Lord was lucid enough to comprehend what he was saying. "Try not to tense up, okay? Just let your body go limp, and I'll get it out as quickly as I can."

The Doctor didn't move, didn't make a sound; Ianto stroked a hand through his hair, looking worriedly at Jack. The immortal moved with the speed of a striking snake; his fingers curled around the base of the metal hook, pulling back slowly but firmly and sliding it out of the Doctor's body.

The Gallifreyan screamed as the large, rounded ball slid out of him, immediately trying to curl up into a fetal position. Working quickly, Jack untied the ropes that held the Doctor's thighs together, then used his pocketknife to cut through the bonds around his wrists. "Blankets, Owen," he barked, his voice the authoritative one that he used when he was stressed.

Owen obeyed without question, scooping up an armful of blankets and helping Jack wrap them around the Doctor's trembling body. Jack looked over at Ianto, who was still standing by the head of the bed, his hand on the Doctor's shoulder, the fingers of his other hand threaded through the Time Lord's tawny hair.

"I'll carry him, Ianto," Jack said softly, laying a hand on the young Welshman's shoulder. Ianto only nodded, swallowing hard and closing his eyes; he didn't feel as though he had any right to touch the Doctor. He'd given up that right with his cruel words, the words that had sent the Doctor away from him .... the words that had caused this.

Jack gathered the Doctor into his arms, nodding to Owen and Ianto as he headed out of the room. It was only a matter of moments before they made their way back to the Tardis, and Ianto breathed a sigh of relief once they were inside the ship and he could feel the power coalescing to spin them through space. They'd made it out, gotten away with no repercussions.

But was that necessarily true? He didn't know where his relationship with the Doctor stood -- or even if they still had a relationship. The Doctor hadn't spoken, hadn't even looked in his direction. As far as he could see, the Time Lord no longer wanted him. His cold, cruel words had killed everything the Doctor had felt for him. He was sure of it.

He watched as Jack and Owen carried the Doctor down the corridor that he knew led to the Time Lord's bedroom. It was strange to think of someone else in that room with his beloved; how many times had they shared that bed when they were aboard the Tardis? He closed his eyes, swallowing back tears. He didn't want to think about the past; the past was gone.

Was there anything he could do to bring the past back, or to start over? There was no way that he would have an answer to that question until he'd talked with the Doctor -- and the Time Lord definitely wasn't in any shape to talk. That would have to wait until after he had recovered from his ordeal -- and after they'd found out just what he was doing there.

Ianto leaned against the console of the Tardis, his lips barely moving, attempting to communicate with the ship. "Take him someplace where he can get help. Please," he whispered, trying to put his heart into his words. "Help him. I don't think he'll let me help him. It has to be you. You have to heal him."

The Tardis seemed to respond, the lights brightening, then dimming. Ianto could almost feel the ship reaching out to him; he could have sworn that he felt a phantom hand on his shoulder, a warmth seeping into him that hadn't been there before. With a glance towards the door, he turned towards the corridor, unable to keep himself away from the Doctor for long.

He stopped just outside the Doctor's room, hearing Owen and Jack murmuring inside. Something told him that this was only the beginning -- they couldn't just snatch the Doctor away from the Master and not expect some sort of retribution. This was far from over -- and he was terrified of what might come crashing down on all of them in the future.

***

Next story in series - Time Heals.