Kintsugi for Kilgrave chapter 2
Chrysalis
"I don't like it," Gwen said, arms crossed tight as though to shield all from her ire. "I've seen the records. The films we hacked from every little corner of his life that no one has. He's an animal, Jack. A rabid beast, and you know what we do with them."
"I seem to recall cell blocks full of them downstairs, all alive-alive-oh." Jack snarked.
"That's different," Gwen snapped back. "The Weevils are aliens, they can't help what they are!"
"And he was created in a lab and raised in isolation by abusive parents that didn't love him enough to even teach him about morals and ethics and I've got news, I've found evidence of worse, and in case you weren't paying attention, he's no normal human. And he's mine. My responsibility."
"I don't like him either," Ianto said. "Besides, isn't this slavery?"
"Not in the conventional sense. I have to have complete control over him in order to..."
But that's all Kilgrave heard as he passed them for the fourth time crawling on hands and knees around the perimeter of the Hub doing as he'd been compelled. He and been neglectful, left out a single empty sugar packet. Mr. Jones had been displeased. When told to pick it up he had snapped a "pick it up yourself" without thinking it through. The Captain had slapped him hard, then shouted a compulsion. "You will obey Mr. Jones! You will not only pick up that packet, you will do it in the manner he sees fit!"
Turned out Mr. Jones had quite the imagination when it came to doling out punishment. And so he was crawling on hands and knees, blowing the packet before him and reciting: "We are both rubbish. We have no purpose." And then he had to blow the paper before him so it landed about a foot and a half in front of him, crawl forward and repeat the process. "We are both rubbish. We have no purpose." Blow the paper then crawl forward again. Hour after hour after hour after hour crawling across a freezing cold floor, his hands and knees beginning to bleed. "We are both rubbish. We have no purpose." Blow and crawl. "We are both rubbish. We have no purpose." Blow and crawl. "We are both rubbish. We have no purpose." Blow and crawl.
The Captain had said he'd found evidence of something worse, but when he tried to think what that could be nothing came to him. What could be worse? Still, he shuddered a bit. He felt dizzy, and he didn't think it was from blowing this stupid bloody bit of paper around the hub. And he had the odd feeling that just around the corner was some invisible pit he might plunge into. A bottomless one, from whence there would be no rescue. His stomach fluttered. "We are both rubbish. We have no purpose." Blow and crawl. He approached the office again. The three team members were still in there, looking at files on the Captain's laptop. Mrs. Cooper wiped her eyes. Why had she been weeping? Mr. Jones wore a shocked expression on his face and the Captain? The Captain just looked sad. Like he had seen too much. Like there was far too much pain and horror in the world and he wanted to fix it and knew he never could. He saw Kilgrave approaching.
"Oh, Jesus, Ianto, we forgot about him," he growled.
"Oh, God, he's been at it for hours!" This from Mrs. Cooper. "Look at the state of him."
"Shit," was all Mr. Jones said before stepping out in the hallway and taking him by the shoulders. "You can stop now," he added. "Jack, he's bleeding. His hands and knees are bleeding."
The Captain went to him and looked him over. He was aching all over from the ordeal, so exhausted he couldn't even stand up and he was so glad it was over. "Thank you, Sir," he gasped. And promptly collapsed like a wet sheet of paper.
A sort of nausea of the mind sat with Jack as he dealt with his charge. The constant irritation could have tempted him to slip from discipline to outright torture, but that was a line he intended not to cross. He might have to come close to it though, Damned close. Like on that first night when it came time to feed Kilgrave.
Jubilee pizza. A staple of his operation. They practically lived on it. And Jack knew Kilgrave would hate it. He'd seen the files and he knew why. Good old Torchwood. Collecting files on everything and everyone even remotely out of the ordinary. Torchwood One had started watching the Thompsons from very early on, had planted spies in the campus labs where the Thompsons did their work bankrolled by IGH labs. Little Kevin had been raised on fast food. While his parents dined on steaks and chops and nice, fresh produce. Little Kevin was given burgers, pizza, fish and chips, nutritionally supplemented of course, to keep him healthy, but from the moment he had tasted actual real food at the age of ten, Kilgrave had decided he would never eat fast food again. Jack sighed. No wonder he hated fast food. He buzzed Ianto. "Order us some dinner, will you? The unusual."
Jack stood up from his desk where he had been reviewing Kilgrave's files with headphones on. He didn't want his charge to know how much he knew or how much more he was learning. He rubbed the back of his neck and stretched. A thought niggled at him. Should he? Well, he was supposed to be wearing his charge down...
He sat back down and shut his laptop. "Stand up," he said.
He watched Kilgrave rise from the floor, obviously stiff from sitting on the floor so long. He rubbed his hands together and then rubbed his upper arms, waiting for Jack to say something.
"I need a neck-rub," Jack said. He struggled to keep a straight face at the look Kilgrave gave him—that of an imperious kitten an owner had just presented something less than likable to. "You heard me," Jack said firmly.
A muttered "Yes, Sir," and Kilgrave stepped behind Jack and placed his hands on Jack's sore muscles.
"Fuck, your hands are like ice," Jack hissed.
"The floor is very cold," Kilgrave replied.
"Yeah, well so is that tiny black lump you call a conscience. Now give me a massage, it'll warm you up."
A disgruntled sigh and Kilgrave did as he was told. Truth be told, the man had good hands. Long fingers, delicate but stronger than they looked, and quite agile. Obviously experienced, too, he knew all the right pressure points to relieve the kinks. Jack sighed with relief. If only Kilgrave wasn't such an asshole Jack might have felt the sensations head south, but knowing what he knew...
Once his pain had lessened his stomach growled. He was certain Kilgrave had to be hungry, too. "That's enough," he said. Kilgrave stepped back as Jack stood. Reward obedience, Jack thought, and gave Kilgrave's shoulder and gentle squeeze. "Good job. Let's get something to eat."
He led Kilgrave to the conference room where a stack of boxed up pizzas sat, Gwen and Ianto ready to dig in. "Sit," Jack told Kilgrave. He grabbed a couple of paper plates (he knew Kilgrave would also hate paper plates, he loved his fine china) and slapped slices of pizza on them. Plunking one down in front of Kilgrave, he took a bite of his own. Nodded at Kilgrave's plate and said around his mouthful of pepperoni and cheese, "Eat up."
Oh, the look on Kilgrave's face. He poked it with a finger, lip curled in disgust.
"Aren't you hungry?" This from Gwen.
He nodded.
"So then, eat," she waved a hand at his plate. "Go on, eat your food like a good boy."
Like a good boy. Jack knew the second those words left her lips it was going to get ugly.
Kilgrave's face darkened, his teeth gritted in a snarl. "Don't say that to me! That's what they used to say when they fed me this crap, eat your food like a good boy, then they would sidle off and have a nice roast, chops, steak, but it was eat your shit food like a good boy because your nothing but a lab rat! They had real food and fed me cheap shit even while they filled their bank account with the money they got for experimenting on their own son!"
Jack grabbed him by the back of his collar and shook him hard. "Say sorry to Mrs. Cooper, NOW!"
Kilgrave just glared at him. Jack's temper boiled. He pulled Kilgrave up, then shoved him to the floor. Shoved him hard so that he actually bounced, eliciting a cry of pain. "Stay there," Jack said, this time compelling him. He sat and finished his pizza, then ate Kilgrave's piece as well. Ianto and Gwen had the good sense to say nothing, but finished eating. Ianto rose and started to clean up until Jack said, "That's his job now, remember?" He indicated Kilgrave with a nod of his head towards the lump of human misery at his feet. He glared at Kilgrave. "Get up and gather up the scraps. You should have eaten your pizza. There's none left."
Kilgrave stood, still under compulsion, and with a "Yes, Sir," did as he was told. Jack hated using compulsion. He could tell it made Kilgrave actually want to obey. It made a part of him desire doing Jack's bidding and made him find a kind of sick fulfillment in it. Well, Kilgrave needed to know how that felt. He needed to get a bellyful of it until he understood how monstrous he had become. However, Jack was sure this wasn't going to wear him down enough so that Jack could get to the core of him and really work on changing him. For that he would have to be broken without compulsion, but first things first. Make him feel sick at the thought of what compulsion did to his victims by using it on Kilgrave, himself, then wear him down, humiliate him and break him until he could get to the core of him. Only then could he begin to rebuild Kilgrave into a different man. He sighed, watching his charge tidy up, piling scraps into one pizza box. He started towards the rubbish.
"Stop," Jack said. "Bring that here." Kilgrave did an about-face and went to Jack, awaiting further instruction. "On the floor at my feet with the scraps. You will eat all of them, and you will enjoy them. You have to have something to eat, and you will eat what you are given when you are given it. Be grateful I'm not like one asshole I know that forced my dearest friend to live on dog food. Not even wet dog food but kibble. Any more trouble out of you and you'll be eating out of a Happy Kitty tin. Got it?" Fuck, why did Kilgrave put him in this situation of having to come down on him like this? It made Jack even angrier and he had to force down his temper. During his days as a Time Agent he would already have been breaking ribs with the toe of his boot. Not any more though, not since the Doctor had helped him become a better man. The object here was punishment and discipline, not sadism and revenge.
Part of it was indeed humiliation, just as Kilgrave had humiliated his own victims. And so: "Ianto, Gwen. Get over here and watch this. Now." Said team members, recognizing that 'shift your asses' tone of voice did exactly that. Jack did not fail to notice that Kilgrave caught that as well. Jack was a man accustomed to obedience. He could see Kilgrave practically filing the information away. Good.
Ianto observed with his usual consummate poker face. Again, Jack could see Kilgrave observing his captors, reading what he could of them. Gwen stood over him, a little smirk on her lips. "Are we enjoying our num-nums?" she sniggered.
Kilgrave chewed and swallowed before answering, with a nod, "Yes, Ma'am." He held up the box to show Jack he had finished the last crumb. Jack patted his head. "Good boy," he said. Looking at his team members, he continued. "Earlier today I was thinking about my goals for our bad boy here. And I suddenly remembered this little do-dad I had, just a little thing an old boyfriend gave me once. He was as entomologist. Had a thing about luna moths. He said they were a symbol of rebirth, of the spiritual. Of regeneration, if I may wax poetical. He used to say I could be one except I'm not docile. He gave me the do-dad I'm talking about, though, to remember him by. Had it custom made. That's why I had you order up the velvet collar, Ianto." Jack pulled from his pocket a broad purple velvet collar with a silver ring sewn onto it. He pulled another item from his pocket and held it up. Even in the dim light of the Hub it sparkled. "This is a chrysalis. A luna moth chrysalis. It's made of silver and studded with diamonds and peridots. The peridots are why you can see the sparkle so much. Ancient Egyptians called them evening emeralds because they catch starlight." He shook the trinket and it made a silvery little tinkling. "See? It's a little bell." He fastened the little bell onto the collar. Next to it he also fastened a small round dog tag engraved with the words 'property of Captain Jack Harkness'. "I just love the dog-tag," he grinned. "A gift to me from the TARDIS as a matter of fact. She does have a sense of humor, you know. Put the pizza box in the rubbish and come here," Jack told Kilgrave.
Still under compulsion, Kilgrave gave him a smile and a nod. "Yes, sir," he said with eagerness, yet with self-loathing just behind his eyes. Just as it should be, then. He did as he was told.
Jack took him by the shoulders and turned him so that he was facing Gwen and Ianto. He hung his head, so Jack reached around with one hand and tipped his head up by the chin. Forcing him to show his shamed face to Ianto and Gwen. Then, just to rub it in, he stroked Kilgrave's cheek. "Stand still," he said. "Captain is going to bell the pretty kitty."
Jack fastened the collar around his neck. Kilgrave trembled beneath his touch, probably a mixed bag of emotions he was powerless to do a single damned thing about but take it like a dog.
"Touch the collar," Jack instructed. "Describe how it feels."
Kilgrave raised a hand to his neck. He ran his fingers across the fabric as Jack walked around him to better study his countenance. "Well?"
"Soft, sir. It feels soft."
"That's right, it does. Now why do you suppose I chose velvet instead of leather for your collar? Look at me when I talk to you!"
Kilgrave opened and closed his mouth like a fish, eyes wide, a look of near terror in his eyes. "I—I don't know, Sir, I'm sorry, Sir I—"
"Because that's what I'm going to make you. Soft. Pliable. Like clay in a potter's hands. I'm going to shape you, Kilgrave. Now say it loud and clear. What did I just put on you?"
"A collar, Sir."
"And what is it made of, and why?"
"It's made of velvet, Sir, because velvet is soft, Sir, because I will become soft for you, Sir, so you can make me a different person, Sir."
"And what is the charm on the collar?"
"A chrysalis, Sir."
"And what is a chrysalis before it's a chrysalis?"
"A caterpillar, Sir."
"And what is another word for caterpillar?"
"Sir? I—I don't understand, Sir."
"Worm, stupid. That's what you were. A fucking low life piece of shit no good worm. Say it."
"I was a worm, Sir. A fucking low life piece of shit no good worm, Sir."
"And what are you now?"
"Sir? I'm sorry Sir, I don't know how to answer..."
"The answer is you're mine. You're mine, and you'll be whatever I decide you're going to be. Say it."
"I'm yours, Sir. I will be whatever you decide I'm going to be, Sir."
"Now tell us how it feels to be compelled to do whatever I tell you to do."
"Sir, I don't wish to displease you, I want to make you happy, I can't be happy unless you're pleased with what I do, sir, I just," Kilgrave gasped, swallowed, struggling for words. "Sir, please, I—"
"What, you can't answer?"
"I'm sorry, Sir, I can't, I want to make you happy, I have to make you happy and I want to run away but that would make you unhappy so I can't and I..." Kilgrave's trembling intensified into outright shaking now.
Ianto was now looking at Jack with just a touch of confusion; he wasn't used to seeing this side of Jack. Gwen just glared but wisely kept her silence. "Conference on Project Purple Man tomorrow first thing, guys." That seemed to settle them, though he could tell they needed a ton of info. "Time to call it a night."
With the Hub now empty but for Kilgrave and himself Jack heaved a sigh. Bedtime. This promised to put the 'fun' in 'dysfunction'. That unique emotion, pique, ran through him. "Come on, you," he placed a hand on Kilgrave's shoulder and squeezed, noticing a wince of pain. Must have pushed him to the floor a lot harder than he thought. Jack went down first, listening to the soft ting of the little bell-charm on Kilgrave's collar as he ascended after.
"Stand up straight and be still while I undress you and inspect you," he said.
Still under compulsion, Kilgrave nodded, eager to please, yet with dread and fear behind his eyes. Jack stripped him and examined him. Sure enough there were scrapes and deep purple bruises on his knees, hips, elbows and a particularly large bruise on his shoulder. Schooling his face to show no sympathy, he looked Kilgrave in the eye and said, "I did warn you, I like purple on you, just not like this. See to it you don't wear it this way again. It displeases me to see your pretty skin marred by bruises. I like my possessions to look pretty, and you really are my possession. Get that through your skull. Now undress me so we can shower."
Jack had to laugh inwardly at the look on Kilgrave's face then: compelled eagerness mixed with true revulsion and this time sheer terror. Kilgrave's graceful hands shook as he obeyed. The mixture of emotions on Kilgrave's face shifted like waves on a beach. The desire to please morphed to trepidation, to fear, even anticipation and still beneath it all, clear to see behind those so-expressive big brown eyes lay resistance, humiliation and hatred. A lot to work on, Jack thought, wondering what he's got himself into. Well, he'd just have to fly by the seat of his pants. If he was wearing any at the moment, that is.
He reached out his hand and with the back of his knuckles he gently touched Kilgrave's cheek. Kilgrave flinched. "Easy, easy," Jack soothed. He could see that his charge was feeling the weight of compulsion. In dealing with Kilgrave Jack would have to employ the carrot and the stick: do it by compulsion or do it simply choosing to obey. Deal with nasty Jack of deal with nice Jack, but Jack would be dealt with, and Jack would be obeyed, by compulsion or my choice.
He released Kilgrave from compulsion. "Easy, now, easy, easy. I just have to look you over, check those bruises and scrapes. You can do this by compulsion or by choice. Let's try choice. Just relax," He stroked Kilgrave's cheek as though soothing a frightened child. "Come on, now, you can do this. Trust Sir. Just try. That's it. There, now, see. This isn't so bad, is it? That's it, just breathe and relax. Now are you willing, or are you going to make me use compulsion?"
Kilgrave heaved a sigh and it sounded an awful lot like relief. With that exhalation of breath the fire in his eyes dimmed a little. Trepidation remained and some fear but outright terror had fled along with the look that portrayed the disturbing plea to please. He nodded his consent with a soft "Yes, Sir."
Ah, a small victory, and didn't it feel nice. Kilgrave was still tense and resistant to having his space invaded. That had to be dealt with. He had to learn he had no personal space anymore. Jack continued to stroke his cheek, stepping just a little closer as if approaching a high-strung purebred.
"Hush, hush, now," he said, though Kilgrave hadn't uttered a sound. It was just soothing nonsense, just something to say. "Now let's see that shoulder." Jack turned him and with one hand on Kilgrave's shoulder, used his other hand to move Kilgrave's arm around. His charge gave a tiny yelp of pain. Jack had really done a number on him; he'd have to be more careful in future. The bruise was bigger than Jack's hand and a deep purple. He went on to turn Kilgrave this way and that, checking the scrapes and bruises on his elbow, knee and ankle. There was another rather large one on one hip where Kilgrave had bounced on the floor. Jack could tell he didn't like being handled like a dog at the veterinarian's office, but so far so good. Time to push the envelope. Kilgrave needed to be treated like an object. After all, that's what he had done to others. He needed to know what made that wrong.
Jack placed a hand on his belly. Kilgrave's eyes flew wide open as did his mouth, but before he could really react, Jack palpated his belly and was finished. "Yep, you ate enough," he said coolly. "I'll be doing this daily so get used to it. When I say you belong to me I mean that in every way. You aren't just mine to teach and to tell what to do. You're mine to care for. I'll need to know how much you're eating and drinking and your bathroom habits too. Just because I might have to punish you doesn't mean I want you in poor condition."
With that he turned Kilgrave again and with a half-pat, half-slap on one buttock said "Shower, now. You're also mine to keep nice and clean." He gave his charge a little push.
Kilgrave looked back over his shoulder at Jack with something that looked suspiciously like a pout.
He didn't like Jack bathing him, no sir, not one bit. Jack could tell he knew he was being deliberately treated like a child. Had behind his ears washed and all. He wasn't allowed to dry or dress himself in his pajamas either. His eyes did light up when he saw his sleepwear, though. Stylish, expensive and deep purple.
Then came bedtime. Jack indicated his narrow cot. "You'll be sleeping with me. That way I know if you're trying to escape. In case you're thinking of it, don't waste your time."
Jack could see a question behind those dark eyes, now, one he had no intention of answering. Kilgrave needed to feel this fear, needed to know the possibility of being taken against his will. Problem was, this is where Kilgrave balked. He didn't just balk, either. He backed away, eyes narrowed.
"No way," he said, shaking his head.
"Get in the fucking bed NOW!"
"I said no," again an emphatic shaking of the head, backing away even further towards the ladder.
Jack actually let him make it up three rungs before grabbing his ankles and forcing him back down. He kicked, he screamed, he swung his fists. None of it helped, of course. Jack being a seasoned combat veteran, he easily overpowered his charge. Jack sometimes amazed even himself at how quickly he could produce and use his handcuffs. But it didn't stop even then. Kilgrave kept right on struggling even with his hands cuffed behind his back.
"And we were doing so well," he scolded. "I'm fucking not going to compel you this time, you little shit. And I'm not letting that bruise on your ass stop me, either." He pinned Kilgrave to the bed face down with one knee and snatched down his pajama bottoms. Reaching for his trousers, he knew Kilgrave heard the hiss of his belt sliding from trouser loops. At least this time Jack had his temper under control, so the strikes were even. Strong, but not enough to break the skin. His charge proved to be a tough little bastard, though. By the time he heard what he needed to hear, a steady sobbing, Kilgrave's buttocks were fiery red and welts were rising.
"Now apologize unless you want more," Jack growled. "Twenty more licks if you don't."
"I'm suh—sorry, Sir! I'm sorry, sir! I won't try to run again, I won't!"
Jack released one hand and re-cuffed it to the bed rail. He pulled back the covers and pushed Kilgrave under them, then got in the bed himself. He was pretty sure his captive was terrified at this point. He was being forced to sleep in a narrow cot with a man who had just beaten his ass with a belt. Naked. And he was handcuffed. This was exactly the kind of fear Kilgrave needed to know.
Jack got in the bed and lay down behind Kilgrave, looped and arm around his waist and pulled him snugly against his naked body. He could feel the man trembling with fear and knew he was anticipating being violated.
It was a long time before Kilgrave cried himself to sleep.
They had made a little progress since then. There had been no more bedtime beatings, but he still cried himself to sleep every night, handcuffed to the bed next to his naked captor, Jack was sure wondering if tonight was the night it would happen. Jack could tell Kilgrave felt certain that sooner or later, it would. That one night the whim would strike, and Jack would rape him. Maybe the strain was what made him snap at Ianto that day over the empty sugar packet.
Jack picked up the unconscious Kilgrave and carried him to a nearby sofa. He laid him out on it and started patting his face. "Wake up," he called. "Kilgrave, wake up. What happened?"
Kilgrave just moaned. His hand went to the little silver chrysalis trinket and brushed it, causing it to make a soft tinging sound. The gesture was an odd one, as if the man, in his unconscious state, was seeking comfort from the little charm. "Kilgrave," Jack called, louder this time, patting his face harder.
That's when he noticed Kilgrave was burning up with fever. He practically felt like a furnace.