Violence and mild smut warning
"Let go of me you sick bastards."
Jack Harkness struggled against two burly, filthy men. Their hands clamped tight around his arms and making it all grubby. Jack practically growled, trying his best to put himself free but the men just held on tighter and ignored him. Jack's feet scuffed against the ground, trying to dig his heels or toes in to stop or slow their pace although it hardly helped.
To defend Jack's reputation, he had put up one hell of a fight. He had managed to knock one of them out cold, shot another, have the nastiest looking man a nastier looking bruise to his brow. But even Jack had his limits and four guys against one could never be fair even with a gun.
They were leading him towards a rundown, stone-built with a green roof. A tiny, grey tractor sat idle outside. A few lights were one but the place was ominously quiet. Jack felt dread fill his stomach still he refused to let it show and fought against the men a little more. Only they didn't seem bothered by it and just moved him towards the said building. A door swung open to reveal a short but rounded silhouette. There was a gun there too, long and shadowed by the light inside however Jack could guess it was a shotgun. Typical farmer gun for some deranged farmer.
"Bring him in, boys." The shadow spoke. They were female and Welsh like the rest of them. She cocked her gun when Jack was forced near her, smiling like the devil at him. He was paraded through a hallway which was crowded with junk and clothes and picture frames. Cobwebs occupied each corner and crack. A nasty smell wafted through the air and Jack hated the place.
Soon, Jack was dropped unceremoniously onto a concrete floor which was discoloured and stained worse than an abattoir. His knees argued with the movement, a dull ache hitting his bone. He groaned softly. Jack was let go for a moment but then a man stepped in front of him, his clothes were a mess and smelt like sheep shit. His face looked pretty much the same too and Jack recoiled a little when the guy got closer, holding his jaw tightly in a sweaty hand.
"Finally got you all…fresh and young. Mmm."
"I do like a piece of young eye candy while I work." Jack smoothed back, smirking as wide as he could as he looked the man in the eyes. Only it had little effect, just ignoring Jack and his remarks.
"It was a fun game, chasing you all about, trying not to get caught. But now it's over and time for the next part."
"Next part? Like second base? Take me on a date first, Farmer Joe." The Welshman rotated Jack's head about, manipulating it easily thanks to Jack not putting up a fight. He had a look on his face and Jack felt his stomach turn. The man licked his lips, squeezing his bicep before letting go of Jack completely.
"Take his things."
Next Jack found himself missing his coat, gun, belt, suspenders and his shoes. His hands were bound behind him tightly and his shoulders ached in their position, not happy about being held like they were. Jack didn't say much while the man and his friends worked, it served no help to him. Instead, he tried to figure out just what the hell was going on.
"Oi, you, with the nasty teeth." The main guy, Jack thought he heard the name Evan, turned to face him, sneering. "Second base? What is it and what have you done with my team?"
Ewan stalked back to Jack, planting himself in front of him again. Jack let out a noise as the man twisted a hand in his hair, forcing his chin up. Dark eyes raked over him again and Jack suppressed a shiver, he was being eyed up and not for sex, Jack knew what that looked like. This was something different. These twisted farmers wanted something else and Jack had a terrifying incline he knew.
"Your friends are just where we want them. Locked away nice so they won't try to escape again." Evan looked at something behind his shoulder. A grubby curtain of torn, uneven plastic sheets split the room into sections. Currently, Jack was kneeling in what he could call a dining room. Some sort of hillbilly one at that. A marked-up table sat close by with several chairs around it, there was a chipped white cabinet to his side which was next to a little table with a lamp on. A large barn style door covered one wall, it was a murky green. And everything was dirty with a sickening scent filling the air.
"Wha-"
"I do like the variety," Evan cut in, walking around the room. "We mostly get Welsh blood up here, native is nice although foreign is so much more exotic. It's like choosing between chicken wings, which are nice and filling, or a medium-rare steak with a spot of roasted oyster on the side, hmm?"
The man disappeared through the tarp and Jack could hear his boots hitting the ground, moving unseen until he stepped back through. In his hand was a length of tatty cloth. It was soiled clearly and hadn't seen a drop of clean water in decades. Evan crouched beside Jack again, finger tracing along his jawline slowly. He smiled and Jack gagged at the stench of his breath and sight of his mangled teeth. "I bet that Japanese one will taste…delectable."
"Taste?!" Jack tried to ask but he was stopped when the horrid material was shoved into his mouth and tied in place. Jack could taste the lingering drops of sweat, dirt, and blood on it and he gagged again.
Then the next thing he knew was a boot connecting with his gut, forcing him to double over and something solid slamming into his temple.
Bodies pressed together covered in sweat and stinking of an overload of pheromones. They moved in a rhythm, clothes shed and discarded long ago and lips almost devouring each other. Ianto straddled Jack, holding the older man down with a hand on the centre of his bare chest. Meanwhile, the Captain had his hands roaming his pale body, squeezing and grabbing at parts he'd always wanted to touch. Ianto pulled from the kiss to instead pamper Jack's jawline that all yearned for.
"Fuck Ianto-" Jack moaned, grasping the soft flesh of his arse. The younger man just hummed into his ear, nipping at the delicate lobe as he rolled his hips back. That had Jack bucking only Ianto was a cruel tease and forced Jack still. He whined. Not many people could get the Captain to whine but this was Ianto Jones, he could do anything he set his mind to. And Jack loved that.
"Jack."
He looked up, holding eye contact with Ianto who just smiled wickedly. This was supposed to be a one-time thing but neither man could stay back one they had a taste. Both equally addicted to the other and craving more.
"Mmm…"
"Jack!" Ianto now sounded panicked, taking Jack by surprise. His first thought was that he'd hurt him somehow. Then he assumed Ianto didn't want sex tonight, maybe he had changed his mind, Jack would respect that even if he was disappointed. Only his face wasn't twisted in pain or discomfort nor did he actually stop moving. That's why it freaked Jack out the next time he spoke. "Wake up, Jack"
"Huh?!" Jack stopped, sitting up on his elbows.
"Jack!"
Then the images were gone and Jack groaned as the harsh half whisper half shout floated his way, ruining his perfect dream. It was the same Welsh vowels as in his dream yet he found himself not in bed with the dapper butler and, instead, lying on a cold floor with his hands bound behind him and a shiver running through his body. Everything came rushing back to him and he groaned again. The bloody countryside.
"Jack…are you awake?"
"Ianto?"
"Yeah."
"Wha- where are we?" Jack moved as best he could, only capable of rolling into his back rather than staying on his front. Ianto sat a few paces away from him, his clothes dirty and forehead bruising. His hands were clearly bound too but he looked relatively calm for the situation at hand. "Are the others here"
"The villagers place, their slaughterhouse or something…I was with Tosh before only I helped her escape or at least I hope I did...she ran but I couldn't get away, knocked me out and I woke up still here. They brought you in sometime after."
"Oh…you're okay though?"
"Head hurts a bit, probably from headbutting a guy, then, being clocked out by a shotgun."
"We'll have Owen take a look after we kill these bastards." Jack smiled, trying to maintain an aura of confidence for his friend, he hadn't been on many field operations with the team, usually staying back in the hub. Jack didn't know if he did any at London seeing as his record said Junior Researcher, Jack just wished one of his first missions hadn't resulted in them being kidnapped and destined for god knows what fate. Ianto was too young to have to see such horrors, like with Canary Wharf and poor Lisa. Scratch that, no one should see anything so terrible, young or old. Except Jack had insisted he come along. To monitor him or make him more involved, Jack wasn't sure but this was his fault. Jack had even sent Ianto off alone with Tosh knowing something was about the place. He'd thought to find the SUV with Tosh to be more safe, seeing as Gwen got shot, besides that proved to be a lie.
Ianto shuffled in his spot, clearly uncomfortable and about to say something only the door swung open behind them and caught their attention.
"Look who's awake." Jack didn't recognise this one but he was just as unclean as the rest of them. Wearing a standard farmer outfit covered in pig shit and hay, along with some other stains Jack knew to be blood. "You both are. Pretty boy can give you a show, mister."
"What does that mean?" Jack asked, wanting to stall the man unsuccessfully. Ianto's eyes widened slightly, looking at Jack as the guy advanced on him. He vanished behind a table, Jack trying to crane his neck to see their captor and what he was up to. He didn't emerge for a bit but Jack knew he was still there by Ianto's expression, eyes following something Jack couldn't see. It couldn't have been good, he could guess. So, Jack decided to try and draw the villager back, not wanting him anywhere near Ianto. "What d'you mean a show? Because if he's not one for a song and dance, I'll tell you that."
Ianto looked to him, eyes meeting. Jack could see the panic beneath them, of course, he was scared. He'd be concerned if Ianto wasn't and Jack himself was too, more for the others than anything. He didn't want to lose anyone. "Hey! You still there?" Jack called into the uneasy silence. He wished he could see the guy, try to work out how to get around him, find his weaknesses. But he was out sight behind a table which held various jars with various things in them. That's when Jack noticed the hanging bodies. Somehow he had missed them but now they were there he could have thrown up. Two naked and wrapped in plastic sheets. An organ of sorts sat waiting on a chopping board. No wonder Ianto was so scared. And the man was still hidden.
Which is why it came at a horrific surprise when a bat swung out from nowhere, colliding with the back of Ianto's cranium with a cringing crunch and had the Welshman toppling forward as he cried out.
Then Ianto fell still and Jack believed him dead.
Jack's world halted with that, all thoughts leaving his head except one - Ianto was dead - and his heart filled with absolute terror. He couldn't tear his eyes from the prone figure, no matter how much he wanted to so he watched as the same bat was brought down on his side, hitting the soft flesh there. It collided with his friend's body a third time and Jack felt rage burning upside him. He couldn't stand them abusing his body after they'd just so brutally killed Ianto, he wouldn't let him become one of the haunting, hanging corpses strung up like decoration.
The bastard wandered into view and lifted the weapon above his head. Jack, suddenly surged with energy, rolled over, managing to bring his knees underneath him and kneel. He almost overbalanced and fell right back over but Jack saved himself quickly. "Stop!" He shouted at the sick man.
Thankfully he froze, looking over at Jack. The immortal realised he must have looked distraught, giving away his emotions, as the guy smirked sinisterly. Jack grimaces inwardly, catching a glance at blackened teeth and ruined gums, cracked lips and a discoloured tongue. He leaned down, lowering the bat to his side and hooking his fingers under Ianto's collar. The Archivist hung limply as the Welsh villager lifted him and brought him close to Jack but out of arm's reach. Their captor reached down, two chubby and dirty fingers touching Ianto's delicate neck. Jack held his breath.
"He's alive."
The Captain let out the breath, eyes falling shut in relief for a moment before looking back at Ianto. His hands were still bound and the guy held him upwards. "Ss'a shame when they die on the first hit."
"What are you going to do with him?"
"Him? Well, the meat has to be tenderised first before it's bled completely. That can take a while."
The bastard lifted Ianto's head by his hair, fingers tangling themselves in the fluffy hair. His jaw dropped lifelessly. His eyes were shut. But the thing Jack noticed first was the rise and fall of Ianto's chest. He really was alive and Jack could have cried at that. Then the man cupped Ianto's jaw with a meaty hand, forcing his mouth shut and swishing his cheeks painfully hard with dirty nails digging in. He produced something from his back pocket which Jack took to be a rag or old handkerchief. It was just as grubby as the rest of its owner and Jack cringed as he worked Ianto's mouth open, stuffing it in Ianto's mouth and tied in place with a second.
He caught eyes with the cruel monster again who just smiled ever wide and all the more evil. "Things can get pretty loud. No need to alert any passing drivers."
"Let him go you bastard."
"If you say so." And the man dropped Ianto back down to the floor, kicking his hip before leaving the two of them alone. Jack crawled towards him on his knees, grunting as his arms strained behind him. He knelt beside Ianto, falling back on his arse to bring his legs out from underneath him so Jack could lightly nudge Ianto with the tip of his shoe.
"Ianto?" Nothing happened. "C'mon Ianto, it's your turn to wake up." Still nothing. Ianto remained unconscious and unmoving. "Let me hear those beautiful Welsh vowels, yeah?"
Ianto let out a soft noise, muffled by the gag. Jack leaned closer, still trying to coax the kid awake, keeping his voice low yet unthreatening. Slowly, Ianto started to stir, eyes flickering open before shutting and then reopening. Jack awkwardly moved around again, getting his knees under him and watching as Ianto's eyes observed his surroundings in a slow sweep. "Ianto?"
Blue eyes rolled his way, one pupil larger than the other and barely focused. Jack smiles as fearlessly as he could despite the deep pit of worry in his stomach. Ianto's brow furrowed and his gaze leapt around the room. His body tensed as his breathing picked up, eyes growing wide and his legs kicking out. Ianto said something into the gag.
Jack wished he could hold Ianto, tuck him in close and promise it would be okay but the bastard ropes held his arms in place while digging in and chafing the skin raw. Instead, Jack settled with leaning down as best he could and pressing his forehead to Ianto's temple, whispering to him soothingly. Fortunately, Ianto's panic didn't last long and he relaxed, eyes drifting shut and Jack continued his mantra.
Owen cursed the countryside. Cursed this village, the fuckers in it. Cursed Jack and the bloody rift. Owen cursed everything. He was stuck in some crappy cellar which stunk of god knows what and held so many shoes, the people living here could make their own shoe store. Dozens of momentos. Everything would need a major clean down first though before business could even start.
Things had been shit from the start. The countryside was not his forte nor would it ever be with its disgusting smell of grass. It was absolutely freezing and Harkness had wanted them to camp in the middle of nowhere! In tents! Then all their stuff got stolen or drove over and a skeleton had been found followed by Gwen being shot, more carcasses being found, and a plus one added to the group. Gwen and himself had gone searching for Tosh and Ianto, hoping they had managed to locate the SUV but had somehow found Tosh being strangled and next ending up in the capture of a bunch of twisted farmers with no Ianto, no Jack, no weapons, and no SUV.
A ray of light shined out from the wall of the cellar, almost seeming like the Heavenly beams from a cartoon if it wasn't for the illuminated blood-stained chute. It helpfully lit up some of the room but not enough for Owen to see anything clearly without needing a torch of his own. Scanning the room there were the silhouettes of the fridge from Hell; vacant hooks on loose chains; a box or two.
"Jack will get us out of here," Gwen said confidently despite looking exhausted and too pale in the low light. They were all tired and a mess but Gwen was the one who was loaded full of buckshot. Owen moved over to her side, taking her arm and pressed paired fingers to her wrist. Gwen shook him off after he got a feel for her pulse. It wasn't as strong as he'd like but nor was it really weak. Gwen needed rest but she argued with him and Tosh any time they even thought of it.
Tosh herself wasn't looking too good either. She'd had nothing to eat for the whole day and Owen guessed her adrenaline high was wearing off. He sat on the dusty floor, glancing from Gwen to Tosh in silence.
It stretched on for god knows how long until the heavy door shuddered, unlocked, and swung outwards. All three of them shot up, stepping away as two gruff looking men carried in a form, sharing the weight between them yet hardly caring as it half-dragged against the floor. Nobody said a word, a third man aiming a gun vaguely into the room, waving from left to right to cover each of them equally. They weren't here for long, just dropping off their package and leaving with a resounding slam of the door and the lock clicking.
The three of them stared at the crumbled shape, Tosh fishing around in her boot for her pen torch, clicking it on and pointing it forward.
"So much for the Captain coming to the rescue." Owen drawled out, any small measle of hope he had died before he moved to help the unconscious form of Jack. First, he untied the thick rope binding his arms together, next he rolled Jack over and checked his pulse and breathing which were fine and healthy, after that he and Tosh helped Jack sit up against the wall and Gwen placed herself beside him, guiding the Captain's head down on her shoulder. She took his hand, squeezing it and stayed silent as she let him wake up on his own.
He roused not that long after, he nestled his head further into Gwen's shoulder and she quietly whispered to him. It was calm until something must have clicked in Jack's head or Gwen said something to him as Jack jerked upwards and looked around.
"Jack-" Gwen started off.
"Where are we? Is Ianto here?" Jack queried, getting to his feet and stepping away from the wall. Owen took a glance at Tosh, chewing on his bottom lip. "Well?"
"No," Owen stated. "I haven't seen Ianto since we lost the SUV and Tosh said before she never saw him escape…"
"He's still here…he's with them, we need to help him." Tosh gasps sharply beside him, hand flying up to her face and shoulders hunching together. A light sob spilt from her lips and Owen watched as Gwen came round to pull Tosh into a secure hug. Jack stepped forward slightly, wanting to comfort Tosh too but leaving it to Gwen and, alternatively, turning to Owen. "What happened to you lot? Are you all okay?"
"Well, Gwen and I found a copper, bastard was one of them. But we didn't know. So we headed towards a house, its lights were on, only we heard someone." Owen paused and gestured to the upset woman beside him. "Turns out it was Tosh, one of the fuckers was strangling her but thankfully he stopped after I shouted at him. That's when we found out about the police boy, the main guy's nephew. They took us here and that's that."
Jack nodded and fell quiet, which Owen took for him thinking things over therefore the doctor chose to check on Tosh. She let him inspect her neck, using her miniature torch to help him see, then he checked the burns her wrists sustained from a length of rope. Owen was about to direct his attention to Gwen when the door swung open and bathed them in a blinding glow of a harsh yellow. Owen squinted, able to make out a gun with the shape of a small man. He stepped into the room and Jack acted swiftly.
Owen hadn't noticed how he had stood to the side, hidden from view when the door would open. Jack had flung himself at the person, taking them down easily and wrestling with each other. The man got a fortune swing that hit the Captain right in the nose and dazed him, able to push the taller man off him. Only when he felt around for his lost weapon, their captor found thin air. The cocking of a double-barrelled shotgun echoed loudly in the confined space and everyone froze. Basked in a radiant glow of gold, Gwen aimed the gun at the enemy, face set in a fury. She looked terrifying and Owen could have kissed her right there but she had Rhys and now wasn't the time.
"Tie him up." She commanded and Owen took some discarded rope to bind his hands and the man's own plaid over shirt used as a makeshift gag. Before they muted him, Jack punched him hard enough to burst a blood vessel in his eye and have a go at getting any information from him. The bastard was uncooperative so the four left him in the basement of unspeakable horrors and snuck out. Jack took the gun from Gwen and led them to God knows where. Tosh quietly guides Jack through the building, retracing the steps she took to her earlier but unsuccessful slaughter trip.
The corridor was dark and cramped, with a flight of unlit stairs leading to the world overground. Owen took a breath and ever so gently guided Toshiko behind him, using his body as a visual blockade. She didn't need to see this again and by the lack of fight (which scared the doctor more than ever) showed just how shaken the female was. A door stood at the top which Jack opened painfully slow with an ominous creak. And as they all stepped over the threshold, the smell hit Owen like a lorry. He had to bend over and hold back the half-eaten HIV burger from this morning, threatening to come back and resume its life as a cow. The whole place had a pungent smell worse than the grass did and his gagging was harsh although soon subsided as Owen had to hold his sleeve to his face, eyes watering just a bit. Tosh was doing the same, nose pressed into the material of Owen's brown jacket which he had passed to her some time ago.
Every turn was sickening, if not a naked body strung up and wrapped like a gift in waiting, then a severed limb, loose organ or stain from bodily fluids. Some clearly set out for a later date while others were treasured like trophies. To think Ianto - and almost Tosh - might have become a trinket or food meal...
Owen shook his head aggressively, cursing himself and banishing those thoughts. He didn't need to deal with what could have happened because it never did happen, Tosh was here safe and Ianto was somewhere here, being tortured but where they could save him hopefully. None of them was becoming these sick bastards sick version of a sick steak for their sick family dinner together. And Owen vowed to go vegetarian for a while too.
Sticking in a big group like this was dangerous, more chance of getting spotted or being loud but none of them but Jack had a weapon so Owen could see his need to have them close. The cannibal villagers had guns and knives, they only had their first and a single shotgun and there was an unknown number of people who wanted them for a three-course meal tonight
Ianto cried out into the sodden cloth stuffed into his mouth. The part keeping it in place dug into the corners of his mouth and his jaw was beginning to ache. But that was nothing on the immense pain radiating throughout his body as the two men abused it so rigorously. His head pounded and he can only briefly recollect being hit with something at the back. After that, he remembers seeing Jack, being close to Jack, then losing Jack. They took him away, leaving Ianto alone with a roomful of monstrous humans and inhuman monsters.
His shirts had been ripped off, leaving him shivering against the bloodied floor. A bat had met with his torso more times than he could count. His chest had been battered, his sides had been battered, his back had been battered. His arms and legs had been battered. His face had been battered. It seemed only his hands and feet had been left alone. Only his hands were still locked behind him with metal cuffs and his feet too heavy to move with the throbbing ache in his thighs and calves. He was sure his ribs were a mess, his fingers crushed with his right arm snapped, his collar bone was broken. A collection of bruises were slowly forming all over him and Ianto felt like he was a punching bag, completely abused and with no view of a way out.
Ianto had no idea where Jack had been taken, whether he was receiving the same treatment, had been locked up somewhere else, or was already dead.
A slender hand tangled in his hair, sharp and unshapen nails digging into his scalp and scratching painfully. Ianto's head was forced up, gazing up at the deranged gaze of the woman. He couldn't remember her name except Ianto didn't think someone like her - someone who kills people for fun and then dines on them - deserved a name or to be remembered. She smiled at him, her right hand gliding along his dull aching chest, squeezing at the flesh she found and making Ianto's tense with pain. He sobbed, unwanted touches landing all over his torso and arms which only sent him into more realms of agony. He couldn't pull away, body disobeying as it screamed at him. His eyes dropped shut for a moment before opening as the woman's hand rose up to caress his cheek but Ianto shied away as best he could. She tried again but Ianto didn't let her touch him which only annoyed her more. Her grin dropped, palm striking out and catching him across the cheek. Ianto yelped like a puppy, shocked by the hit. The area tingled, feeling hot. Then the woman smiled again and kissed his forehead like a loving mother. Ianto hardly noticed he was shaking.
Something fell around him and Ianto flinched heavily, panicking until he realised what it was. Recognised the material, recognised the smell. It was Jack's coat. They had taken it and now he had it. It didn't feel right, Jack didn't provide it for him, he wasn't gifted it. The coat had been stolen and dropped on it. Still, it was so warm and soft, Ianto didn't want to part with it, it was much safer with him at least. It almost took away the hurt he felt.
He was released, allowed to curl up as best he could under the protective material. His nose, which had bled and soaked up in his gag, had begun to crust over. He couldn't really breathe through one nostril and the other wasn't getting enough air in. Ianto's lungs hurt from the beating and he couldn't risk a rib piercing them, he was already suffering enough. His stomach growled angrily and he felt nauseous, watching the lady rise from her perch and walk away.
Ianto was alone and he let sleep take its hold.
Somehow they hadn't been spotted along their journey through the house, filing one after the other with the gun their only protection. Only, Jack didn't really recognise anything from where they were, he hadn't seen much other than the slaughter room and the outside. They all remained completely silent, even Gwen's grunts of pain were no louder than a mouse. Jack had no idea where anyone was in the house so he was constantly on alert, ready to knock them out at any point or shoot them if necessary. He did want to shoot them but that would attract attention with the loud boom of the shotgun so unfortunately, he would have to wait.
"Jack!" Owen hissed at him, flattening himself against a wall and bringing Tosh too. Jack copied them, making sure Gwen was in cover before he dared look at what Owen saw. A figure had stepped into the room, stout and fiddling with a gun. He was in a copper's uniform. Gwen's hand gripped his bicep. Jack gently pushed her further into cover, making sure the guy wasn't facing him before crouching and moving around the corner. He held the shotgun tight, barrel facing the floor. Once close enough, Jack raised the butt of the gun, holding his breath before he dared to slam it down on the man's head. He caught him before he fell like a tree and brought everyone to them.
Something shuffles to his side and Jack froze, bringing the gun back up and aiming it. A muffled cry sounded too loud in the room and Jack thought for a second it was Ianto. Hope rose and he was sorely crushed when he recognised it wasn't their friend. It was the boy from before. The one holidaying up here…Kieran. He was looking worse for wear, maybe exhausted and loaded up on fear yet alive. Jack crouched before him, slowing his reach when the lad flinched.
"It's okay, Kieran. We're here to help."
Kieran nodded, letting Jack loosen and remove the gag in his mouth and rip into the ropes wrapped around his wrists. Gwen appeared at his side, hands on Kieran's shoulders and rubbing them gently and soothingly.
Jack left Gwen to comfort the kid and gifted the new gun to Tosh, enclosing his hands around hers and giving them a firm squeezes. He smiled reassuringly to her, maintaining eye contact long enough for her to return one even if it was a little unsteady. He then kissed her forehead and brought Gwen to Tosh's side.
"You two are going to find a way out, got it?" Tosh nodded quickly but Gwen looked a little perturbed, clearly wanting to argue but rational thought the better of her. "Take the kid and find the SUV if possible."
She nodded, still very pale and not in any state to continue on. Jack squeezes her shoulder, kissed her cheek, and watching as the two disappeared off through a doorway heading away from where the cop had been standing. Jack glanced at Owen who said nothing and just nodded. He hoped they would be okay, neither deserved to go through any more horrors. Neither did Owen though Jack needed someone with him. So, they carried on through the house, stepping over the policeman's body with no care and Owen may have "accidentally" kicked said man in the face.
By the time they had made it to the rancid smelling room which was more potent than a bottle of moonshine, the two had knocked out another two villagers and barricaded into a room and hadn't found anymore along the way. Jack hoped they were somewhere away from Tosh and Gwen and Ianto. He just wanted to find his Welshman and take him home. Take them all home.
A harsh, Welsh accent alerted Jack before he rounded the corner, standing back against the wall as he poked his head around the door frame. The place wasn't much different from before, still disgusting and unclean and nowhere Jack wanted to be. Only it felt worse, the sensation of fear and pain was much more predominant than last time he was here. Owen tapped his shoulder with two taps in succession and then pointed.
Ianto was being dragged along the floor by his hair, feet scrambling at the floor but unable to find any place on the floor. He was clearly in pain, his pale torso now mostly a collage of mottled black and purple shapes. He looked terrible. Ianto was missing his shirts and was still gagged, noises muffled by the bloodied and sweat-soaked rag. Jack felt his heart lurk for the Archivist and he gripped the shotgun much tighter, gradually following after where the bastard had taken Ianto. Owen trailed behind him, Jack glancing back at him and throwing a nod the doctor's way before rounding the corner with the gun poised.
"Let him go, you inhumane shits," Jack growled, gun aimed right at Evan's head. His finger twitches over the trigger but it stalled as he took in the sight before him. The cannibal had Ianto's head tilted back, palm forcing his chin upwards to expose his neck. A large butcher's knife was held to the skin, biting into it a little to make it bleed but nothing too worrying so far. Even still, it had Jack panic for just a millisecond and he debated lowering the gun. But he couldn't, Ianto would still die.
"I don't think you have the power to make demands right now."
Footsteps dropped behind them and Jack didn't need to look to know they were stuck, Ianto's look of defeat told him everything. Then a gun to the back of his skull confirmed it.
Next thing Jack heard was a shot ring out followed by darkness a split second after.
"Fuck!" Owen cursed, jumping back as the Captain's body fell harder than a bag of rocks. He crumpled to the floor, a small hole indicating the entrance of the bullet that killed him while Owen only assumed the exit wound made his face an utter mess. Blood pooled on the ground, only making it much dirtier. Owen's heart raced and his breathing picked up, he started to sweat as he felt the gun knock his head. He glanced at Ianto, he was beyond frightened as the cleaver stayed by his throat, the cannibal was grinning wider than the Cheshire cat and Owen felt himself feeling creeped the fuck out more.
"This is our Harvest."
"Only in the bloody countryside." Owen shuddered, feeling absolutely sick and wishing he was back home. "You sick fuckers." The gun knocked his head all too unfriendly and he stumbled slightly, being pushed to his knees ungracefully. Ianto was still watching him as the creep forced his neck to become more exposed. He started to shake, rivets of blood running down his poor torso as the sharp edge of the cleaver cut the skin. "Time to be bled, like veal."
He waved the stained weapon at Owen, talking although it was just some cooking show on the BBC rather than the horrific truth. Soulless eyes locked with Owen's and he couldn't stop the fear that wrapped around his heart. Fear for Ianto, fear for himself, and dear for any other unlucky bugger that should come through here. "It takes a long time, but it definitely makes the meat taste better."
Ianto began to struggle and protest as the knife was brought back to his throat, eyes wide and body tensing. He was scared and so was Owen. He couldn't look away no matter how much he wanted too. Ianto let out a noise as the blade sunk just a little deeper-
Suddenly the glassware started to rattle and Owen was sure the world was shaking. A loud rumbling echoed outside and everyone turned, the cleaver dropping from Ianto's neck as the man moved around him to stand near a green, barn door. "What now?" Owen surged forward as his captor left him alone, standing beside his cannibal partner. The doctor stopped by Ianto's side, scooping him up into his arms as the lad shook. "What the fuck?"
As the guy drew out the F sound, knife in hand as though he thought he could fight whatever was coming with it, the door exploded. Shards and splinters of wood flew everywhere and Owen automatically used his body to shield Ianto. Gunshots rang out deafeningly and Owen only looked up once they had fallen silent. Like goddess bathed in the terrible light above, Tosh and Gwen stood with their Torchwood issued guns aimed at the fallen men. They were a mess but to Owen, the ladies looked like the most beautiful thing in the room.
He couldn't believe that that was it now. It was over. They were safe and the cannibals were dealt with. Owen was half envious that he couldn't have shot the bastards himself but if anyone deserved to it was Tosh. And Ianto, who was still cradled in his arms and shaking worse than a leaf in a storm. Owen gently smoothed down Ianto's hair, rocking him lightly as the women finished off zip tying the sick people. He gently cooed to him, feeling around for what held Ianto's hands behind him and stopping the curse which arose when he felt the metal bands of handcuffs.
"Tosh?" Owen called, finding his voice not as strong as it once was. Toshiko looked over, taking in what she saw as Owen gestured to the cuffs. She nodded, setting off to search for the key in the pockets of the two they had captured. She wasn't gone long but Owen felt it was too long anyway, yet it wasn't Tosh who returned. It was Jack...alive and well. Face completely mended like he hadn't just been shot. He hadn't thought about Jack at all and Owen felt guilty when he realised. And it all still baffled Owen but his attention was drawn back to Ianto who was shivering in his hold and definitely hurting everywhere. Jack unlocked the cuffs and they fell to the floor with a loud clink, Owen lightly held Ianto in place, not wanting him to move them just yet.
Owen then lifted his head gently, thumb stroking Ianto's cheek before he untied the soiled rag around his face and took out the other part. He dropped it to the floor, watching as Ianto winced as he shut his jaw. Ianto's eyes feel about and Owen had to gently tap his cheek to get Ianto to reopen them. "Need you to stay awake, Yan. Gotta check you out, yeah?"
Rhythmic beeping echoed in the pristine, clean, white, and perfect room. It jumped once and then two seconds passed before it jumped again, the luminous green line spiking like a skyscraper against the black monitor screen. Two separate, steady lines for the blood pressure and oxygen saturation each set Jack at ease as he studied the monitor. He'd had enough time to figure out which numbers meant what and what each noise signalled. Beside him sat a half-awake Owen, who, Jack knew, knew it all already. He would know everything in the room from the IV catheter and the meds they were pumping through it.
All Jack needed to know was that it all helped the man on the bed stay alive and heal up.
Ianto was all cleaned up and sleeping peacefully now. The grit and grime from the slaughterhouse had been washed away, revealing the extent of his injuries but making him clean. Jack thought he'd appreciate that. He wasn't a fan of being mucky. And Jack knew he'd feel a little better with his hair washed, skin scrubbed, and clothes replaced with something better. Well, one of those hospital gowns that exposed the patient's arse although it was better than what he wore before. Jack would just be happy to see Ianto back in his suits and well again.
Only, right now, Ianto was a mess of bandages, splints, and injuries. It wasn't nice and Jack sometimes found it hard to look at him. His nose, with the swelling reduced, was being fixed by some gauze and a split, his fingers held together with one too for them to slowly mend themselves. A cast was around his arm while a sling held that ad his collarbone in place. Bandages sat around his wrists to keep the wounds clean while more white strips of fabric wound around his torso to aid his ribs, which had, thankfully, not pierce his lungs. His concussion was being helped and Jack had been assured the multitude of bruises would heal with time.
"Jack."
He turned his head, meeting the gaze of Owen, who had at up in his chair and still looked extremely exhausted. He wouldn't be sent home though, Jack had tried, he'd ordered him, but the doctor wouldn't budge. "You were shot in the head."
Jack sighed, looking back to Ianto who could have blended in with the white of the pillows if it wasn't for the dark head of hair he had. The Captain was in no way surprised Owen brought up the topic. It wasn't common for people to come back alive after a headshot from close range. He just didn't know if he had the energy to explain it all right now, but the Londoner deserved some sort of explanation just not now. So Jack sighed again but kept his gaze level on the sleeping Welshman.
"I was."
"But you're alive now."
"Mmhmm...it's complicated"
Owen moved about a bit to Jack side yet he didn't look. He just studied as Ianto's chest rose and fell, how his lips moved just a tiny bit in his sleep, how his brow was furrowed. Jack didn't stop watching Ianto even when Owen spoke up again.
"Well, shit."