A/N: Sorry there was no chapter last week, I didn't have any time to write because of final exams! To make up for it, this chapter is a bit longer than my usual ones...

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Chapter 12

The Doctor spun around the TARDIS control room happily, sending the TARDIS back into the vortex.

After killing Jack, he had gone into his torture room and quickly killed off Aaron—his new toy was so much better. He then got the TARDIS to clean out the room, before locking Jack in the chains instead. He'd had to kill the immortal several more times because he woke up to early, and the Doctor couldn't have that.

Now, he sat in the captain's chair and looked at the monitor. The screen displayed the torture room, Jack's limp body hanging against the chains. He'd removed his overclothing, so the man was only in a t-shirt and his jeans, and set the time in the room on normal; now that its occupant couldn't die, he didn't have to worry about the length of time he'd be gone from the TARDIS.

He'd just finished the thought, when the form on the screen began to tremble, as Jack was jerked back to life. A smile graced the Time Lord's lips, and he left the control room to visit the immortal.

He was there in no time at all, and he banged the door open loudly, causing Jack's head to jerk upwards. Oh, how the Doctor loved to make an entrance.

"Jack," he said coldly, all traces of the false emotions that had clung to his voice now gone. He no longer had to pretend to be the good guy, the poor little alien who had lost so much. No, he could be himself, and that meant lots of fun for him, and very little for the man in front of him.

"Doctor," Jack whispered, pain in his voice. The Doctor noted how the immortal said his full title, rather than the shortened version he always used. This was going to be easier than he could've imagined. The ape still harbored feelings for him! Torturing someone was always more fun when the other person was emotionally invested.

"That is my name," he grinned coldly, circling Jack and looking for his weak spots, looking for a starting point. He paused to the side of Jack.

Jack seemed to recognize the icy tone in his voice, and his eyes widened slightly. "What did you do to Ianto?"

The Doctor snorted, slightly surprised Jack's first thought had been of his other prisoner. "You're the one chained up, in a room obviously meant for torture, and you're worried about the teaboy?"

Jack glared at him. "What did you do?"

The Doctor smirked, shrugging off his confusion. "Oh just a bit of this and that. I trapped his consciousness inside my mind, a special prison if you'd like."

"Put him back," Jack growled.

"I don't think you are in the position to be making demands. Why don't you ask nicely?"

"What?" Jack asked confused.

"I want you to beg for me," the Doctor said, returning to his position in front of the immortal.

Jack looked at him through narrowed eyes, before seeming to realize the Doctor was serious. "Please," he said. "Please bring him back."

"Oh, no. I want you to do it properly, Jack," he emphasized Jack's name in a mocking tone, and he could see a tiny bit of pain flash across his features before they were once more smoothed out.

Jack closed his eyes, as if having an inner argument with himself, before opening them again, a decision made. His body was sagging again now, the strong position he had held earlier completely gone. With his head bowed slightly, he looked up at the Doctor. "Please," he whispered, and the Doctor could not only hear the pain in his voice, but also felt the hurt rolling off him in psychic waves. "Please…he didn't do anything. Bring him back," Jack's voice cracked, a single tear running down his cheek.

The Doctor watched him for a moment, not moving. He could feel the worry in Jack's mind that it hadn't been enough, he could hear the thoughts forming in Jack's head of what he could do to further appease the Time Lord, and that was when the Doctor smiled. It wasn't a kind smile; it was victorious. The ape was already becoming subservient, wanting to please him.

"Okay," he said, and Jack looked up with him in an expression that was a mixture of shock, joy, and a wary kind of hope.

The Doctor left the room, and walked into the medbay, which the TARDIS had so kindly moved to just across the hall, where Ianto's body had been left. He was able to move the teaboy's body fairly easily, and he dragged it across the hall and back into the other room, dropping it in front of Jack. He then closed his eyes, and went to the prison, before allowing Ianto's consciousness to return to his body.

"There."

"Ianto?" Jack said softly, straining against the chains in an attempt to touch Ianto, but he was just out of reach.

Ianto coughed a couple of times, before opening his eyes, tears immediately flowing from them.

"Jack," Ianto gasped. He looked him over, seeing the chains and the destroyed look on his face.

"How very sweet and touching," the Doctor sneered, interrupting their moment. A mirthless smile grew on his face as Ianto visibly cowered, moving away from him, only stopping when he hit the wall. "Good, now you've done my work for me." He snapped his fingers, and cuffs snapped out of the wall, locking him to it.

"What are you doing?" Jack demanded.

The Doctor returned his gaze to the immortal. "I want him to watch as I torture you. I want him to see as the light leaves your eyes, time after time. I want him to see how you still have faith in me afterwards, because we both know you will. He will watch as I break you."

"No," Jack growled. "I have survived so much Doctor, I can survive you."

The Doctor's mouth twitched inadvertently into a smile. He loved it when they acted strong.

"Let's begin, then."

One hour later, Jack gasped back to life, after countless times of death. His mouth was stretched open in a silent scream, his voice having given out almost half an hour earlier. Tear tracks stained his face, mixed with blood, his eyes were wrenched shut. After the initial energy that came from being revived disappeared, Jack's body slumped again, the chain the only thing keeping his body off the floor.

"Now then, Jack," the Doctor proclaimed. "Ready for the next round?"

Jack focused on keeping himself awake, his brain not quite responding anymore to the words being thrown at him. He'd given in to the pain long ago, unable to process it anymore. He had been through a lot in his extended life, he'd been tortured before, but this wasn't like that at all. This…it couldn't be compared to anything. He wondered what had happened that could possibly break the Doctor so badly. He wondered if he could manage to fix it.

"You Jack, still thinking about fixing me…Looks like I was correct after all. Well, there's nothing to fix. Nothing is wrong with me, although the same can't be said for you. Look at yourself. How could anyone love you? Why would they? All that you've done, all that you've seen…Do you think if they knew what you'd done that they'd still stick around? How sweet. So much sentiment Jack."

Jack could feel the presence in his mind, probing his thoughts and memories, but he was in too much pain to even attempt to stop it. Besides, he already knew that there was no way he would be able to stop the Doctor from getting what he wanted.

"Very smart of you Jack. It does mean less pain if you just give in. However, it also means less fun for me. I want you to fight back. It's not as much fun for me otherwise. Of course," the Doctor turned away for a moment, "I can still do this."

Jack let out another silent scream, as pain shot across his back as if he'd been whipped over and over again. He could feel the wounds lacing his back, the lashes cutting across each other and the flesh torn to shreds, but he knew that if he looked back there, he'd be perfectly fine. He knew it was in his head, but that didn't stop it from hurting. He knew to expect it, over the hour, the Doctor had switched between physical wounds and mental ones, both kinds meant to inflict the most possible damage on him, without destroying him completely. He knew the Doctor's tactics; he wasn't proud to admit it, but he'd used them himself before, minus the psychic attacks. It was just one more thing on the list of questionable things from his past, and one of the things he regretted most. It wasn't an advantage to know the Doctor's plan. In fact, he wished he didn't. It would have been easier if he didn't know what was coming, but the Doctor made sure to hold the memories in the front of his mind.

Jack felt tingling in his throat, which meant that his body was repairing the torn vocal cords. He flicked his gaze to the right, where Ianto was still slumped against the wall in an awkward position. He knew this was destroying him, watching what the Doctor was doing, and he wished that he could tell him that it wasn't that bad, that he was alright, even if it was a lie. Well…not completely a lie, Jack thought. If this was what the Doctor needed, something, or more accurately, someone, to take his anger out on, who better than Jack? Maybe all he needed was to be able to share his pain with someone. He knew that the Doctor kept everything bottled up inside, and his walls couldn't last forever. Maybe that's exactly what this was…The Doctor needed to vent all his anger, his pain, somewhere, and Jack would be that for him, willingly. Maybe if he could get it all out, then he would be able to return to himself. The only problem would be the Doctor's feelings of regret when he came back to himself…Jack knew he would tear himself up when he realized what he had done… But maybe he would also admire Jack for holding out, for never losing faith in him… All those moments between him and the Doctor…they couldn't all have been faked. There was no way. So when the Doctor returned to himself, he would see Jack, what Jack had done for him, and maybe there would be a chance that—

"Still thinking of saving me? How pathetic. I don't need to be saved," the Doctor sneered, and a sudden bright, white light flooded behind Jack's eyes as something was driven into his back, for real this time. He felt the flesh bubbling and melting, blood beginning to roll down his back, gushing from the wound. "Hot-pokers…I've come to realize that they are a beautiful weapon of torture. Trial and error, you know? You have to be careful however, too much at once, and the prisoner dies. But I don't have to worry about that with you, Jack." The weapon once more pierced his skin, and Jack screamed, his voice echoing in the room once more. The Doctor continued, and Jack lost the ability to form any thoughts, until after what seemed like hours, the pain stopped.

He opened his eyes again, not even remembering closing them, and saw the Doctor begin to walk around him. He felt the Doctor's cool fingers trail across his wounded back, and fresh pain flared up, along with sparks of electricity, and he couldn't help himself when he leaned into the touch.

The Doctor let out another cold laugh, and dug his finger directly into one of the wounds, and Jack gasped in pain. "Come on Jack, I want to hear you scream for me again," the Doctor's animalistic tone stung his ears. Jack closed his eyes again. "Jack," the Doctor said again, slight annoyance in his tone. His said it the same way he always had, when warning him for flirting. He sounded just like himself. "Scream, Jack!" The Doctor growled, pressing once more on one of the marks on his back, and Jack felt blood flow down his back once more. Jack bit his lip, blood flooding his mouth as he kept himself from screaming. If there was one thing he was going to do now, it was to not give in; he wouldn't let himself cry out again. His eyes hesitantly flicked upwards, and immediately he locked gazes with the Doctor. He searched the Time Lord's expression for something, anything that could possibly link him back to the man that Jack loved, but what he saw instead scared him.

He could see now, see past the image he still held onto of the Doctor, because this man was no longer him. He saw the dark eyes, the same ones that used to hold a deep sadness, but lit up whenever something interesting happened, now filled with hatred that he doubted even a dalek could match. He saw his cold stance that used to be so relaxed, so familiar, now hard and unloving. What got to him most, however, was the Doctor's expression. The Doctor could express so much in just the tiniest of facial twitches, and his grin, the manic overly excited smile that appeared only when he was really, truly enjoying something was now stretched across his features, aimed at Jack, at his bleeding battered body. The grin that he loved, the grin that was imprinted in his mind as one of the Doctor's most lovable features, was pointing right at him. It was twisted now though. His teeth looked sharper, more predatory, and paired with the dark, unloving eyes; it sent a shiver down his spine. It was that moment, when he finally accepted the truth. It was then that the Doctor won. He could see now. He saw the evil that resided in the Doctor's heart, and he saw how foolish he had been to have possibly even thought that he would be able to save the Doctor. The Doctor didn't want to be saved, he had said so repeatedly, but it was the grin that finally made it strike home. The grin that was filled with such undeniable glee, glee that came from watching as Jack writhed in pain. Glee in watching a man that loved him dying repeatedly. This monster, this insane monster was not the Doctor, he couldn't be, and yet he knew it was. He only wished he had seen this earlier.

Jack's inhibitions fell away, and his scream tore through the TARDIS as the lithe fingers once more pressed against his injuries. The scream of a man full of lost hope. The scream of a man full of despair. The scream of a man so full of heartbreak that the sound waves rippled across the universe, creating a fixed point for the rest of time.