x x x
Chapter 7: Consolidation
x x x
There were no weapons in this prison. In fact, aside from those they were naturally born to have, it seemed that this place went out of its way to deny them such things. All their food was designed to be eaten by hand. The tea mugs were unbreakable (she had tried), in spite of looking and feeling like fine china. She had once seen glass, but as it had shattered it had disappeared - seemingly dissolved into thin air with no recognisable trace of the excess energy usually associated with a teleportation device - leaving no sharp edges to be found. There was nothing made of metal in the place at all, lest it be twisted into some kind of weapon.
As such, Harkness' chosen weapons with which to seek some kind of vengeance upon her were his fists. If she had intended to resist, she would probably have used her teeth.
The main reason she didn't resist was because she still hoped to gain his cooperation. She was sure it would be easier to escape this place with his help. Oh, she didn't doubt she could eventually get out on her own... but it would go a lot faster this way. She also hoped her decision not to fight him meant he only beat her this one time.
It was a brutal, primative attack. He only hit her face that first time and she was pretty sure it wouldn't leave a bruise... but over the next few minutes she felt a couple of ribs crack... among other rather painful strikes. The worst was probably to her shoulder - she was pretty sure that fractured her left collarbone.
The way she flinched for that last one made him hesitate... and then back down, slowly deflating and letting go of his anger.
He shook his head, and stood up, staring at her with blatant disgust. "You're not worth it." he growled, before turning and storming out of the room. Leaving her alone with just the pain of his assault, and her own thoughts.
The pain certainly wasn't the worst she had experienced (when you survive burning to death half a dozen times in a row, your perspective on pain will tend to get a bit skewed) but it was still very unpleasant. Moving her left arm, in particular, was going to be a problem. Time Lords healed faster than humans, but that didn't mean instantaneous. It would take her a couple of weeks to recover from these injuries - the bruises only one week - while for humans it would take at least twice as long.
She wasn't sure if he would attack her again, or if he had already had enough. Satisfaction from physical violence very much depended on the individual. Playing helpless could help her case, but only if he had already decided sympathy was currency between them now. That was a possibility, but she wasn't counting on it.
She carefully dressed in those plain, comfortable clothes. Her shoulder hurt so much as she pulled the arm of her top on, but other than that she could manage just fine. She needed a sling... so she made her way into the bathroom, and knew it ought to be surprising that there was a suitable sling already waiting for her. It wasn't surprising anymore.
She avoided Harkness for the rest of the day. He chose to remain in the main room, while she stayed in the bedroom. That is, until he came in to sleep.
She was tired, too - albeit more of being bored than of actual tiredness - so she laid down with her back to him, and very pointedly ignored him.
He took his time getting ready for bed. He had left the room naked, having not bothered to get dressed at any point after they had sex. When he returned, clearly no fresh clothes had appeared for him elsewhere, but now he was actually putting on his clothes from earlier. When he did join her on the bed, he was right behind her, arms around her, holding her close... but not tightly enough to put pressure on her injured ribs.
She glanced over her shoulder in his direction, warily. Even that movement jostled her arm and caused her to wince. "What are you doing?" she asked.
"I don't like you. I don't trust you. Honestly, I don't believe a word you said earlier." he said slowly and carefully, "But on the off-chance that you were telling the truth... I wouldn't want to be responsible for leaving even you to relive that kind of nightmare."
"And the beatings?" she asked cautiously.
"Will continue until morale improves." he replied with evident sarcasm.
She snorted with laughter. That was a line she had used on the Valiant, often. It had not been a joke then.
"No. Really, I don't think I can do that again." he said, this time with a note of honesty.
"Why, because I'm a woman?"
"No. Because you're defenseless." he countered, "You were right in your assessment that as long as we're trapped here, I'm stronger than you. I could kill you if I wanted to. It has absolutely nothing to do with your gender - I think you're forgetting I'm not from this century - when I'm from there is no moralistic debate between male or female. Everyone is an individual, and judged on personal merits, not ancient stereotypes."
She smiled at that, "Glad to hear I'm in like-minded company. On that subject, at least."
He snorted, "I seem to remember your last life thought differently."
"Yes, that's part of how I ended up female, actually." she said, somewhat amused at herself, "I wanted to make my body weaker. My new gender was a subconscious side-effect."
"Why did you want to be weaker?"
"Rassilon wanted to use me as a pawn. I wanted to disappoint him." she said coldly, "Let's just say turning into an eight-year-old girl was the least of the damage I did to my physical strength in that Regeneration."
There was a cold and deathly silence as he took in the meaning behind her words. She had positively ravaged her entire genetic structure in that forced and unwanted Regeneration, waking up months later to the sounds of the greatest scientific and mystic healers of all of Kasterberous - including the accursed Sisterhood of Karn - working to repair the damage. Even then, it took almost another whole year for them to finish the job and hand her over to Rassilon.
He didn't speak now, so she simply settled to sleep again, and that was the end of that conversation.
x x x
The next day he avoided her for what felt like a few hours. As before, she remained in the bedroom, only emerging for food, and he staked out the main room. But then he came looking for her.
"How are you feeling?" he asked, his tone somewhat stilted, as if he wasn't at all comfortable expressing compassion for her.
She glanced at her shoulder, arm still in its sling. "I'll recover. Assuming you mean to allow that?"
"I don't want to be alone. You're better than solitude, in this place." he conceded, "And while I could hurt you, I really don't feel like it. I kind of want to kill you... but not torture you."
Well this certainly was an amusing dilemma the freak had found himself in, and her amusement showed on her face as she sat up a bit more attentively. He must be working up to something embarrassing.
"I still want sex. If you're willing." Or not so embarrassing. It must have been the admission that he liked her better than being alone that had been the cause of his discomfort, because this was Captain Jack Harkness, and sex did not embarrass him at all. He had come on to Harold Saxon, both before and after finding out his true identity.
He was clearly asking her consent. She found it oddly amusing that both the mercenary hero and the insane villain refused to cross that line, and only that line - consent to intimacy. Any other violation, say knives to the chest, no problem... but the intimate - for his race sexual, for hers emotional - that was something not to despoil.
But did she want it? After the beating, she felt a malevolent urge to deny him purely for the sake of denying him... but then it hadn't exactly been an unpleasant experience, and she did want to earn his compliance.
She opened her mouth, hesitated a moment, then finally spoke, "Conditionally, yes."
"Conditionally?" he asked with one sceptically raised eyebrow, and a defensive folding of the arms.
"If you're considerate to my injuries." she clarified, "Two cracked ribs, a broken collar bone, and extensive bruising of the upper arms and lower torso. You can be as rough as you like with the uninjured parts of my body-" she added a hint of innuendo in her tone at that part, to make her meaning quite clear, "-but try not to aggravate my wounds."
For a moment she would swear she saw remorse in his eyes, but he hid it quickly and efficiently. Then he forced a smile, and nodded, "Of course."
x x x
They continued this awkward pattern of avoidance, paradoxically interrupted for sexual pleasure, until her injuries healed. Approximately two weeks, just as she had guessed. Then one night as they laid in bed together, his arms around her somewhere between restraining and protective and she couldn't quite tell which, he asked her, "Why?"
She turned her head in his direction, as much as she could given he was behind her.
"Why did you try to take over the Earth, torment and humiliate those people on the Valiant, torture me?"
She decided it couldn't make things much worse for her to admit the truth at this stage. "Earth... because the Doctor likes it. Those people, their fear was entertaining. You... I was curious."
"Seems petty."
"I am." she answered flatly, "I'm also pretty sure I'm a psychopath, by the definitions laid out by human psychology. I have very little concept of empathy for other life forms, and all I really want out of life is power and the Doctor there to agonise over my victories. And now revenge on Rassilon as well."
He snorted, "I can understand the desire for revenge."
"Can you understand how I would carry it out?"
He didn't answer.
"I want the power to dominate his mind as he did mine... and make him feel everything he ever did to hurt anyone else. All of it. Forever. On a permanent loop if there's not enough of it."
"Ironic, the creature incapable of empathy would wish it as a curse on someone else." he mused.
"Just because I can't feel it, doesn't mean I can't see how agonising it would be. I've watched the Doctor make those 'difficult decisions'. They'd be easy for me - kill the less-useful side of the problem and you no longer have a problem. But he won't do that. I can sense his torment when he tries to solve it the hard way."
"And yet you want him around, in spite of his conscience?"
"I don't see your point."
He chuckled, but didn't elaborate.
"No, really. Tell me."
"You love him. Why else would you swear to kill him then let him off every time?"
"Someone's been reading UNIT files." she said with a smirk, "I never swore to kill him... only to wreak terrible vengeance."
He sighed, "Believe what you want." With that he tightened his grip on her, and seemed to settle with intent to sleep.
She squirmed around in his arms, and in spite of him attempting to tighten his grip further, she managed to turn to face him, "Can I show you something?"
He cracked one eye open with evident scepticism.
"Do you really think I can hurt you and get away with it, in here?" she asked, shaking her head, "You have been very helpful in educating me about what humans consider the greatest form of intimacy. I'd like to repay the favour... show you how Time Lords share pleasure." As she said this, she raised a hand up to the side of his face.
He caught her wrist just before she could touch his temple. She wouldn't have instigated what she was suggesting without his consent. They may both truly despise each other, but neither appeared willing to take the step over that line. "Telepathy?" he asked warily.
She snorted with amusement, "That's a pretty big umbrella term, as generic as 'touch'. I want to stimulate your mind in a very particular way. I'm pretty sure you'll find it to be just as enjoyable a new experience as sexual intercourse has been for me."
He regarded her with curiosity for a moment, "I know you're up to something... but I really can't see the harm as long as we're in here. You never could control my mind while we were on the Valiant."
"Yes... you're a stubborn bastard, that's why." she said with a faint smile. Yes, Harkness was simply immune to telepathic domination. She never did figure out why, but she was pretty sure it could prove useful if she got him on her side. Getting him on her side in the first place would be the problem.
"What exactly would this involve?" he asked her.
"I really can't think of words in your language that can accurately explain it. Honestly, try thinking how you could describe the level of pleasure of sex to an incorporeal being - I'm having exactly that much trouble finding words that work. It starts out feeling a bit like a high, but then goes beyond anything the purely physical can comprehend. It's all pleasure - while I could use the same methods to hurt you, I don't intend to."
"What about what you said Rassilon did to you? You've controlled people with telepathy before, but act like that was different."
She flinched at that, not entirely sure if it was merely a reaction to being reminded of that torment, or the suggestion she was as bad as him. There's always a line not to cross... didn't mean Rassilon's went in the same direction as hers; maybe he excluded puppies from his homicidal-mania list, where she preferred kittens. Even if it did, there's always a bigger fish, even when you're in the evil overlord business... she just never expected that had applied to her until she found out how he had caused the drums in her head.
She wasn't entirely sure how long it took her to regain enough composure to answer, through gritted teeth, "If I were physically stronger, and I grabbed you and shoved you, that would make you go where I want you to go - that's what my telepathic domination does. It's very different from the level of abuse and coercion of a rape victim who's not allowed to say no, and is threatened with further abuse if they don't obey. What Rassilon did to me is the same kind of telepathic connection I mean to use with you... the difference is, I'm asking your consent and would use it to give you pleasure, rather than pain."
"And you're okay with this?" he asked cautiously. She did understand, as part of that third-hand information on human sexuality she had unintentionally absorbed by merely living on this planet, that rape victims did tend to have issues with sex afterwards... but in her mind the entire principle of a victim, of any kind, is that they're weaker than their attacker in some way that counted when they were attacked.
She was very much stronger than Harkness, mentally, and in spite of his accursed immortality she wasn't in the slightest bit afraid of what she may find in his mind.
She grinned, quite sure that every negative emotion she felt for Rassilon came through in that expression, "The worst thing he did to me was take away my name. Control is everything to me, why else do you think I chose that name in the first place?" She shook her head, "No, with you, I'll be the stronger one, even with whatever it is about this place that's weakened my mental powers."
At full strength she could overload his brain and kill him with it if she wanted to - in fact, she could do that with several other forms of telepathy as well - but she wasn't sure she could pull that particular trick off while trapped in this prison. It might even be part of the intent of this place, to protect its prisoners from any lasting harm. Why else would there be such a conspicuous lack of anything that could be turned into weapons?
After a brief hesitation, during which he appeared to be thinking about it carefully, he nodded slowly, "I have to admit I'm curious."
Her smile toned down from psychotic to almost warm. Almost - she didn't do warm. "Is that a yes?"
"Yes." he said, letting go of her wrist as he said it. She could see the hesitation as he did it. He did want it, but he was still wary... possibly even nervous.
She lightly pushed his hair back behind his ear, before pressing her fingertips to his temple there, "I promise, I'll be gentle."
x x x
