Author's Note: The title comes from Whitman's "Beat! Beat! Drums!". Oh, I'm very clever. And I swear that I found the title hours after I wrote it. This takes place on the Valiant during the year between Doctor Who Season Three's "The Sound of Drums" and "The Last of the Time Lords". Idea totally stolen from Sam_Storyteller on LiveJournal. He made a passing mention of this particular thing happening during this particular time. So, it isn't really stolen. Just...fleshed out? Maybe it is stolen. All idea credit goes to him. He's brilliant, go check him out. Hours of entertainment. Days. I'll probably keep plugging him forever. Seriously, he's the only thing that rationalizes the fact that I'm writing fanfiction at all. He's just so good. It's like a challenge.
Warning: Character death. Sort of. Not really. But, there you go.
- - -
Jack heard the struggle before he saw it; someone shouting, a voice so familiar that he was rocked from his uneasy sleep – the only type of sleep possible while chained between two posts. The voice was shouting, "Where the hell are you taking me? Why won't you answer me? Answer me!"
And then the struggle rounded the corner, and Jack could see quite clearly who it was.
His face was bruised and cut, his clothes ripped and burned, but it was still Ianto, trying to rip his arms out of the grip of the two soldiers bearing him forward. Then he looked up. And saw him.
"Jack!" he yelled, and it was the most complicated thing that Jack had ever heard anyone say; happiness, gratitude, love, fear, worry, anger, all in one short exclamation. The soldiers threw him to the floor in front of Jack and kept him on his knees. Jack stared open-mouthed at him.
"What've they done to you?" His voice was quiet, and trembled, looking at him. Beaten but still fighting. He never thought he'd see Ianto again, but there he was. And not for any good reason.
Ianto launched into a fast explanation, as though worried someone was going to cut him off before he could finish. "They blew up the hub – Tosh and Owen-" grief swelled in his face, "Gwen and I escaped. I ran – I was looking for you but they caught me, I don't think they've found Gwen, they've been trying to force it out of me but I really don't know where she is-"
"No worries, Mr. Jones," said a voice from the doorway, familiar and smiling. "We'll find her soon enough."
The Master swept across the metal floor. He walked like he was dancing. He smiled from ear to ear. "Good morning, Jack. How's life on the Valiant?"
"What are you doing, Saxon? Why did you bring him here?" Jack was vicious, pulling against the chains, his teeth bared.
The Master slipped his laser screwdriver (a malign imitation of the Doctor's) into his hand and casually pressed it against Ianto's head. "You know my name, Captain," he said with acid, "Now use it."
Jack consented, through gritted teeth. "Master." The screwdriver disappeared.
"Good, good," the Master stepped around Ianto, who stared up at him as he went, open-mouthed and angry. Jack gave him a look that cut off whatever he would have said, if he could have found words.
"I've brought your little friend here today to give him a choice." He patted Jack on the cheek, and Jack pulled away. "And you've seemed a bit bored down here of late, Captain H. I figured we'd have a little fun." He wandered over to one of the soldiers and unholstered his pistol.
"This," he said, pointing, "is a gun." He ran his fingers across it lovingly. "Just your average, everyday standard issue handgun, fully loaded and capable of quite a lot of damage." He stepped toward Ianto. Jack lunged, but the Master held up a finger and ticked it from side to side. "Too hasty, my Captain. You see, I'm not the one that's going to be doing the killing today." He traced his finger along Ianto's cheek, and Ianto flinched away. "He is. I am going to give Mr. Jones this gun. And if Mr. Jones points this gun anywhere but where I tell him to, this nice gentleman behind me-" he gestured to the solider that was still armed, "will kill him. I've been told that they're very good at that."
He came around in front of Ianto and squatted to be at his eye level. "That okay with you, Jones Ianto Jones?" Ianto only glared at him, silent. Saxon smiled. "It appears that he is A-OK with it. Now!" he said, leaping up, "I am going to put the gun on the floor here – like so-" he placed it delicately on the floor between Ianto and Jack, "-and you are going to listen to the rules. Rule number one we've already covered. Rule number two. Jones Ianto Jones has to shoot someone. Rule number three. That someone can either be the Captain, or himself. These are very simple rules. If you forget them I shall be cross."
He stepped between the two of them, looking from one to the other. "It seems to me a simple choice. Jack can't die, while Ianto certainly can. What will it be, J-I-J? A painful couple of minutes for good Jack over here, or a very dark eternity for yourself? I'll give you a minute. Discuss." He stepped away.
"Shoot me," Jack said immediately, insistent, looking from the gun to Ianto. "Fast."
Ianto moved his eyes from the gun to Jack's face. His lips trembled. "No."
"What are you talking about? Just pick it up and shoot me!" Jack was afraid; he watched Ianto with huge eyes.
Ianto leaned over and picked up the gun. "I won't," he said, softly. "I can't."
"Ianto, you have to, you don't have any other choice-" Ianto pressed the gun to his temple and Jack's heart stopped.
"No. No, Ianto, no, please, just shoot me, please just shoot me-"
"No," the muscles in Ianto's face were working, his cheeks red. "They can't make me kill you. They can't have the satisfaction." He spit this last word out like poison. He took in a shaking breath, then let it out, closing his eyes and then opening them, looking up at Jack's face. "I'm sorry."
"Ianto-"
"They've taken everything. It's hell out there, Jack. Tosh and Owen. Gwen. You. Everyone's gone. They've taken everything we cared about. They've undone all of it." His eyes didn't move from Jack's face. They were fierce and calm. "They won't take me."
"Ianto, don't-"
The gun went off. Blood sprayed the metal floor. Ianto's body shifted slowly and fell.
"No! Ianto! Ianto!" Jack strained against the chains, his wrists rubbing raw, his eyes red and wet. "You bastard," he sobbed, while the Master strolled up to Ianto and plucked the gun out of his hand. "You bastard!"
The Master smiled once more. "Have a nice day, Captain Jack Harkness."
Then he left.
The two soldiers went to Ianto's body, then lifted him by the shoulders and started to drag him away. Jack could only watch, hitching breath in gasps and praying, praying to whatever was listening that the Doctor could fix this. Could fix everything. Somehow.
- - -
"Where were you?" Tosh, her chin tilted up.
Jack smiled. "I found my Doctor."
"Did he fix you?" Owen, his eyebrows raised.
"What's to fix? You don't mess with this level of perfection."
Ianto cut in quickly, low, "Are you going back to him?"
Jack paused. He took in a breath.
"I came back for you."