Title: Whisper To A Scream
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Ianto Jones/Tenth Doctor
Fandom: Torchwood/Doctor Who
Rating: NC-17
Table: 30_sex_scenes
Prompt: 24, Gag
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.

***

The Doctor closed his eyes, trying to breathe through the haze of pain surrounding his senses, not wanting to pass out even though he had the definite feeling that it would be a blessing if he could surrender himself to oblivion.

Where was Ianto? If his young lover was in the same situation that he was, there would be hell to pay -- if and when he managed to get himself out of this. At the moment, that prospect wasn't looking overly bright.

He should have known that something was going to happen when he and Ianto had been separated; they hadn't exactly been dragged away from each other, but their "hosts" had made it plain that they didn't want the two of them to be together.

The Time Lord let out a soft, pained moan when the man behind him thrust into him again, harder this time, the pain shooting through his body in a white-hot arc.

He wanted to scream Ianto's name, but the gag in his mouth kept him from making any sound other than a muffled moan. And with his wrists bound behind his back, his trousers around his ankles, and two men bending him over a chair, he couldn't struggle free.

Was Ianto going through the same thing? If anyone had laid a hand on his boyfriend, he'd make them pay, he thought, clenching his bound hands behind his back. No one was going to harm Ianto and get away with it.

Of course, he was sure that his lover was saying the same thing about him -- and probably trying desperately to find him, if he was still free. He coud only hope that was the case, and that Ianto would be able to locate him and get them out of here.

Another sharp thrust; another spasm of pain ran through him, forcing a groan from his throat. How long could this go on? The first man had already had his turn; there was one more after this one, and then he'd hopefully be left alone.

But there was no telling what they might do to him when they were finished with him. They didn't have guns, but there were other ways of doing away with a captive.

The Doctor squeezed his eyes shut as one of the men holding him down laughed, twining his fingers through the Time Lord's hair and pulling. He had to struggle not to let out a sound, not to give them the satisfaction of knowing that he was in pain.

But of course, they knew he was. There had been no preparation, nothing; they'd just dragged him into this room, bound his hands and shoved a gag into his mouth, then nearly torn his trousers down and bent him over the chair, kicking his legs apart and going at him.

If he kept his eyes closed, maybe it wouldn't hurt so much. That was a vain hope, but at least then it would seem less real, less immediate, and he could concentrate on formulating some plan to save both himself and Ianto.

This couldn't go on for much longer, he told himself, holding back another groan, feeling his own blood trickle down the insides of his thighs.

The man behind him released with a muffled growl, his hands tightening on the Doctor's shoulders and shaking him like a child might shake a rag doll. The Time Lord let himself go limp, hoping that the men might think he'd had enough before the third one took his place.

There was an air of anticipation in the room; the Doctor could feel the short hairs on the back of his neck prickling, as though events had already turned a corner and were impossible to keep back. There was an electricity in the air; his breath caught, his hearts almost skipping a beat.

The gunshot was deafening; it made his eyes fly open, a gasp frozen in his throat behind his gag. He could feel the body behind him step back, falling away, the hands that held him down were suddenly gone, the bodies falling to the floor.

There had been three shots; just enough to take out his captors. The Doctor blinked, feeling dazed, not quite comprehending what had just taken place. Whatever it was, he was thankful for it; he just hoped that it wouldn't put him into a worse position than he'd already been in.

Ianto was standing in the doorway, holding a gun, his eyes wide; that look spoke volumes, his comprehension of the situation going from a whisper to a scream without a sound.

The young man didn't say a word at first; he only moved forward to wrap one arm around the Time Lord's waist, letting the other man lean against him as he eased the gag from his mouth, his thumb stroking gently over the Doctor's swollen lips.

"Are you all right?" he whispered, the words sounding choked and strained. He shook his head immediately, his eyes meeting the Doctor's. "Stupid question, I know you aren't. I'll get you back to the Tardis as quickly as I can, Doctor."

The Time Lord didn't speak, letting Ianto turn him around to work at the ropes that bound him. Ianto let out a soft curse; after a few moments, the Doctor felt the blade of penknife tug at the ropes, slicing through them with ease.

Ianto knelt to pull the Doctor's trousers up, pushing the Time Lord's shaking hands out of the way and fastening them himself. He pulled the other man into his arms, closing his eyes as the Doctor rested his head against his shoulder.

It was a little strange to be embracing his lover like this with dead bodies around them, the Doctor reflected -- but a the moment, he needed the comfort of those arms around him.

"Let's get out of here," Ianto said, looking around them with distaste. The Doctor couldn't have agreed more; he wanted to put this room -- and the memory of what had happened to him there -- behind him as quickly as he could.

He ran his tongue over his lips; the gag had made his mouth so dry that it was difficult to get any words out, and he wasn't sure that he could speak much more loudly than a whisper -- or maybe a croak that sounded more like a dry rasp.

"I don't know that I'll be able to walk very well," he managed to get out, realizing that he was leaning more heavily on Ianto. He knew that he should move out of his boyfriend's embrace, that they needed to get out of here as quickly as possible, but he couldn't make his body obey him.

"I'll carry you if I have to," Ianto told him, his voice firm. "I'm not leaving you here and go back to the Tardis to bring her closer, if that's what you're thinking."

The Doctor shook his head, managing a soft laugh that deteriorated into a cough. "No, I have no desire to stay here alone, believe me. And you can't carry me, Ianto. You have to keep your hands free in case you need to use that gun again."

Ianto looked reluctant, but he finally nodded and slipped one arm around the Time Lord's slender waist as he turned towards the door. The Doctor stumbled along beside him, wishing that every step he took didn't hurt.

He'd have to put that out of his mind, he told himself. Their first priority was to get back to the Tardis; once they'd accomplished that, he could take a hot bath, a shower, or just tumble into bed -- and hopefully, sink into oblivion for a while.

They both looked carefully around them as they made their way down a short hallway, to a door that Ianto slowly pushed open. The Doctor drew a soft breath, feeling weak with relief. They were outside; they could make their way back to the Tardis and out of this place.

Neither man looked behind them, moving away as quickly as they could, back to the ship and the safe haven that they both badly needed.

***

Next story in series - Flood of Sunshine.