Oblivion
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Ianto Jones/Tenth Doctor
Fandom: Torchwood/Doctor Who
Rating: NC-17
Table: 50_darkfics
Prompt: 75, Non-con
Warnings: Rape.
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.

***

What was he doing here? How could he have been stupid enough to wander into this part of town without someone with him, someone who could watch his back and offer some kind of protection? This was his own fault; he hadn't been cautious enough.

The Doctor's eyes roamed around the barroom searching for a way out; there was none. He was backed against the wall behind a pool table, unable to run one way or the other. There were too many burly drunken men surrounding him for him to even contemplate getting away.

If only he'd thought to tell Ianto where he was going -- but he hadn't. What had made him think that going out walking would be a good idea, when it was foggy out and he had no way to get in touch with his lover? He'd been a fool.

He'd been so restless, feeling that he needed to get out of the flat for a while, but not wanting to go to Torchwood and have to talk to Jack, or anyone else who might be there. Even though he knew they wouldn't mind him being there, he still didn't feel comfortable.

So his restlessness had made him decide to take a walk around Cardiff -- and he'd ended up in one of the rougher sections of town, ducking into a bar to get away from the sudden rainshower that had blossomed. That had been his second mistake.

Now, here he was, surrounded by men who looked as though they would rather kill him than smile at him. Or at least do him some grievous physical harm.

They were closing in on him, pushing him closer to the wall. He could feel the unyielding surface behind his back, feel them moving closer to him. The heat from the bodies surrounding him was almost unbearable.

The Doctor gasped when one of the men reached out to cup his face with one hand; it was as if that was some kind of signal for the others to touch him, hands suddenly seeming to be all over his body like tentacles that wrapped around him.

A hand twined through his hair, jerking his head back to meet the wall with a solid thunk that dazed him. He almost fell forward, held up only by the hands that seemed to be everywhere, hands that pulled at his clothes, touching him in places he didn't want to be touched.

It took a few moments for his head to clear; when his senses focused again, the Doctor realized that these men were methodically stripping his clothes from his body, holding his arms behind his back to keep him from struggling.

He opened his mouth to protest, to scream; that was a mistake, he discovered a moment later when a rag was shoved into his mouth, nearly choking him. He shook his head wildly, trying to dislodge the gag, hoping that he could scream and someone would hear him.

That was a vain hope. The grip on his arms only became tighter the more he fought against it; he was pushed against the wall and turned around, hands loosening his trousers.

His trousers fell to the floor, his last vestige of modesty stripped away from him. He'd never felt so exposed before, so .... so utterly helpless. Not even when he'd been in the Master's clutches and had been fully aware of what the other man intended to do to him.

The Doctor shuddered as those hands moved down his back, cupping and squeezing his ass cheeks -- fingers sliding between his thighs, spreading him, stroking over his sensitive opening. He closed his eyes, praying that they wouldn't go any further than touching.

Another vain hope, obviously; he was turned around, those rough hands moving between his legs, stroking his cock, squeezing his balls. The Doctor had to fight back a whimper; he wasn't going to let them see how being touched like this unnerved him.

They were only touching his body, he told himself as they pulled him forward, their hands moving over his bare flesh. They couldn't touch the core of him, the part of him that belonged to Ianto even more than his body did.

He struggled as he was lifted onto the pool table, trying to kick out against the men who held him captive. They only laughed, the grip on his wrists and ankles tightening as he was turned over onto his stomach, his body was stretched out between the four corners of the table.

The Doctor squeezed his eyes closed, resting his forehead against the green baize of the table. If only he could detach his mind from his body enough to not feel what was happening ....

But it was impossible. All of his senses were fully alert; it was the self-preservation instinct kicking in, trying to tell him to escape, though he knew he was trapped. He could do nothing but lay there as they bound him and wait for whatever they intended to do to him.

He tested the ropes that held him down; they bit into his wrists and ankles, rubbing his bare skin raw. There was no way he could possibly wriggle free, and even if he could, those men would stop him. They certainly weren't going to let him go, not at this point.

Of all the things he'd thought would ever happen to him, being raped by complete strangers hadn't been one of them, the Doctor thought, trying not to shrink away from the hands that were still moving over his body. This felt like some horrible, surreal dream.

Ianto would come in at any moment, showing up at the last minute to rescue him like the hero in an action movie. Ianto wouldn't let this happen to him; Ianto was his white knight, his prince. He had to cling to that thought, that belief that Ianto would be there for him.

But that wasn't going to happen, the more rational part of his mind insisted. Ianto had no idea where he was; his lover thought he was safe at home, not held captive in some dingy bar, menaced by men who were behaving more like animals than humans.

He winced as hands moved up his thighs, massaging his cheeks, spreading them; a finger pushed inside him, coarse laughter ringing in his head as he struggled to hold back a cry.

A second finger joined the first, stretching him; he could hear derisive laughter, feel those invading fingers pressing deeper inside his body, twisting and turning. His small hands balled into fists, his breath catching in his throat.

Just as suddenly as they'd entered him, the fingers were gone; the Doctor squeezed his eyes closed, sure that worse was coming. His muscles tensed, his body tightening in anticipation; if only this would be over with quickly.

The Doctor moaned against the gag when he felt something pressing against him -- something that definitely didn't feel like a cock. A lightning flash of pain shot through him as he was entered, building up until the pain seemed to permeate every fiber of his being.

It took him a few moments to realize that he was being penetrated with a pool cue, the hard, unyielding wood pushing deeper and deeper inside him, the men around him laughing as he writhed against his bonds, trying in vain to escape from the pain.

Consciousness was slipping away from him; the edges of his vision were going black, the voices seeming further away. If only he could pass out, get away from the pain that was taking him over, fall into a blessed oblivion.

But that wasn't going to happen. The gag was yanked from his mouth, at the same time that something much larger than the small end of a pool cue pressed into him.

The Doctor's agonized scream seemed pulled out of the depths of his body; he was sure that he was being ripped into pieces, his body torn apart with no hope of being put back together again. The pain seemed endless, cresting over him in waves that would never stop.

It went on forever, each thrust deeper than the one before, shattering his soul along with his body. He would die here; Ianto would find him, bloody and broken, and not know why this had happened. Ianto wouldn't be able to save him ....

His screams were dwindling, his throat dry and parched, his voice growing hoarser with each cry that was forced from his vocal cords. His throat felt almost as numb as his body, his screams falling on deaf ears.

There was no help, no respite from the pain. The Doctor could feel his grip on consciousness slowly ebbing away; all he could think of was how much he wanted to see Ianto again, just once more, to feel those strong arms around him as he slipped into darkness.

He couldn't die. Not here, not now. He had to see Ianto, tell the young man that he loved him, that he would always be with him in spirit, even if they weren't together physically. He couldn't depart from this world before he was sure Ianto knew that.

Dimly, he could feel the ropes that held him down being loosened; hands were pulling him off the table, throwing him face down on the floor.

He landed on the ground with a thud, the impact driving the breath from his body, making him see stars dance before his eyes. Those stars swam in his vision; everything was going dark, the voices around him seeming ever further away.

Whatever had penetrated him was still inside him; though his hands were untied, he didn't have the strength to move or try to expel it from his body. All he could do was lie there, searching for the pieces of himself that he was sure were scattered all around him.

The lights were going dim; at first, the Doctor thought that he was losing consciousness, but then he realized that the harsh lights had been turned out, and that there were no longer people in the room. He was alone, the room around him dark and shadowy.

There was a coppery scent in the air, the tang of his own blood in the atmosphere. How much blood had he lost? His thighs felt slippery with it; he could withstand blood loss, but there was no telling how weakened he would be.

The Doctor curled himself into a fetal position, unable to keep his eyes open. He was fast losing the battle for consciousness; if Ianto was somehow guided to him, he wouldn't know it. He wasn't sure that he would still be alive to be grateful to his love for finding him.

With that final thought, he released his hold on the waking world, tears still streaking down his face even as he fell into a dark oblivion that seemed to swallow him.

***