White noise, babies screaming, tortured howling. These were the only noises Mallory heard for god knows how long, on a loop. At first he tried to block out the disturbing sounds but after some time he realised it was no good, it was just too damn loud to do that. Every part of him ached and burned with every breath he took, with every tremor that ran through his freezing body.
He reflected back on everything he and Q had been through since this nightmare started, it felt like it was weeks ago but he was pretty sure that couldn't be right. John and his interrogation team had started with the electricity, swapping focus from M to Q on a whim. M remembers the feeling when the currents were running through him, he thinks he can still feel an echo of the liquid fire now. The flames running through his veins, reaching all his nerves and lighting them up. The rest of their time was a bit of a blur if he was honest, all he could remember for sure was the agony.
M could only remember flashes clearly, the worst of it all. The sight of blood as knives cut deeply into muscle and skin, the stench of burning as heated metal scorched skin, the nauseating sound of bone's cracking under the weight of a beating. As Gareth shifted he gasped aloud, feeling his own broken bones shift inside his chest. He had lost count how many things were broken, how many times he had been cut, burnt, beaten. It got to the point when it was just academic, he was in agony. It was as simple as that.
John had been right though earlier, it hurt ten times more watching Q being tortured. Mallory wished he would be chosen every time John came back for questioning, he didn't know how much longer he could handle Q's yells. Each time he looked into the quartermaster's eyes he saw the early defiance being chipped away bit by bit, they were breaking him down and by association M too.
Gareth banged his shoulders back against the chair yelling as the sounds in his headphones changed to the torture sounds. This was by far the worst one, it reminded him too much of Q's screams, it was like it was happening continually and it would never stop. He couldn't even see his friend to see how he was doing, the blindfold took care of that. This is how they were left between interrogation sessions. Mallory recognised the technique, sensory deprivation to stop them resting and recovering, to disorient them. It had clearly worked, Mallory didn't have a clue how long they'd been sat there for. He only knew that this was the fourth time he and Q had been left with the sensory deprivation.
The indication that their interrogators were back was a bucket of ice cold water thrown over him, the headphones and blindfold were taken away and the questions would start again. The whole routine was effective, even now Mallory felt it difficult to relax his muscles as he waited for the bucket of water knowing it would come without warning at any time. The mental torture was proving to be almost as difficult as the physical.
Much to their captor's annoyance though, he and Q hadn't said a word. How much longer that lasted for was anyones guess but for now it was good enough.
Mallory jumped as the ice water crashed into his broken body, he gasped as his bones jarred with the sudden movement. He felt his heart beat begin to race faster as it always did now when he knew John was back. The headphones and blindfold was removed and Mallory began the familiar routine of readjusting his senses to the room. His eyes found Q's and a weight was lifted off his chest as he noted the quartermaster was just how he left him when the headphones had gone on, he always worried he would wake up and Q would be gone.
John strolled into the room followed by some men carrying some new equipment, it looked like containers of water and a couple of towels.
Shit.
M sincerely hoped he was wrong about the deduction he had just made but he doubted there could be any other use for the materials, they were going to drown them. Mallory shook his head clear of unwanted resurfacing images from his past, waterboarding was a particular favourite of the IRA and had left their mark on him psychologically far above anything else.
Mallory's attention shifted to John as he noted the man hadn't spoken yet, there was something in his eyes that looked unfamiliar. M observed how wooden the interrogator seemed to be, perhaps John was beginning to feel outside pressure over his lack of results? He did seem to grow more agitated every time he returned for another session; he also seemed to up the game each time.
John's cold eyes landed on him finally with his usual penetrating gaze, searching for weakness. The interrogator turned his back on M and gave Q the same treatment. Mallory noted the change in body language and realised John must have seen something in Q's eyes, maybe he noticed what Mallory had. Q was struggling.
Decision made John motioned for the guards to Mallory's side. Gareth realised this meant he was the one to undergo the torture, he was half relieved that he wouldn't have to see Q go through this and half petrified of reliving this part of his life he'd hoped he'd buried long ago.
"Have you heard of water-boarding Q?"
Q ignored his captor, dead eyes staring straight ahead. Of course he had heard of it, and of course he knew what awaited them when the men brought the containers of water in just as Mallory had. Q didn't miss his boss's reaction to the equipment, clearly this resonated with the past for him. It did for Q too. When he was a young boy Q had actually drowned and had to be brought back, he would never forget the feeling of dying. Clawing at his throat as his lungs screamed for air and the blackness descended. John knew a lot but Q prayed and prayed that he didn't know his secret.
Q felt tremendous guilt weigh him down as he felt thankful it wasn't him who was going to be drowned, instead he had to watch. On reflection perhaps they were just as bad as each other. He could see M tremble as the guards unlatched his chair and lowered him to the ground so he was lying flat on his back, they rotated the chair so Q would have full view of the nightmare.
"It's a fascinating practise really, drowning without being in water."
Q squeezed his eyes shut as images from his own past threatened to overwhelm him, that was the last thing he needed now flashbacks to torture himself. John was already doing a darn good job of it.
John motioned for the guards to wait when they had everything prepared, he gripped Q's head tightly forcing Q to open his eyes. "Now Q, I'm afraid I'm going to need some information from you now. This cannot go on. I need to know the exact purpose of the program and exactly what progress MI6 has made."
Q shook his head vigorously, he didn't know much within his frazzled mind right now but something was screaming at him to say no. Whatever pain clung to him the one resolute thought remained, don't tell this bastard anything.
John released his grip and sighed heavily, Q thought he spied a flash of anger cross the mad-man's face but he couldn't be sure. He was exhausted and was probably just seeing things.
"Fine." John's face turned hard. "Then this is on you."
John nodded at the guards who held a towel between them over M's face, they pulled down hard on the material until Q could see his friend was struggling to breathe. The container was tipped up and water began to slosh down over M's face and onto the material blocking his airways, Q tensed as Mallory began to thrash against the treatment but the men's firm grip and the restraints held steady.
Q watched horrified as the scene continued, he could hear M's garbled outcries as he was drowned alive. Finally when Q thought M was beginning to weaken, the guards lifted the towel off of his face and leant the chair up slightly. M gasped greedily for air and coughed up a hell of a lot of water from his lungs, more water than Q could imagine. He could see M's face etched with agony and sympathised as he realised the coughing must be jarring his ribs horribly. Before Q could say anything M was slammed back down on his back and they started again. Q felt numb.
"Do you know what's happening to him now?" John asked conversationally as he pulled up a chair to sit beside Q. "The towel blocks his access to oxygen so no relief there. Then the water falls straight through the towel down into his lungs. Essentially he's drowning without ever being underwater."
Mallory is allowed to breathe and cough out water again, less time than before. The poor man looked exhausted.
"It's fascinating really."
Q couldn't help himself, how could John sit there like this when they watched the feeble struggles from a man being drowned in front of them. "You sick bastard." He spat.
John turned to look at him. "I'm not the one who can stop this Q."
Q shut his eyes and shut out the voice in his head, he wished he could fall into the darkness. His heart was screaming at him to help M, his head was telling him he couldn't. It was an inner battle that he was losing with every struggle he could hear from the other side of the room.
"Just tell me what I need to know and we can stop this. M can breathe again." John leaned into whisper in Q's ear, it was so tempting.
"I can't." Q cried, gritting his teeth together wishing he could block out the sound.
John's harsh grip was suddenly on his face. "Open your eyes Q and look at what you're doing to him!"
Q opened his eyes as the grip became painful, he looked over at Mallory who was in-between sessions. Christ the man sounded terrible, there was a permanent rattle in M's chest and it looked like he was having real trouble getting any oxygen into his lungs. The guards took no mercy and carried on without sympathy.
"Just tell me, and we can end the drowning."
Q resorted to biting his tongue, not sure if he could trust it to not spill the answers he so desperately wanted to. John sighed heavily at his silence.
"Drown him." He ordered the guards who had just allowed Mallory another break.
Q caught M's terrified gaze as he heard the order too before he was buried under the towel again.
"You can't kill him." Q stuttered quickly, heart hammering too loudly. "You need him alive."
Even as he said the words he realised that he had no idea what John could and could not do, would he really go that far?
John tapped absentmindedly against the arms of his chair, "Well you see Q, I'm starting to think I need to re-evaluate things. What's useful to me and what isn't."
Q couldn't tell if the man was bluffing or not but he wasn't telling the guards to stop and M's thrashings were becoming more feeble with every passing second, they were really killing him. He couldn't let M die but he couldn't help John, for the first time in his life he felt truly lost. What the fuck was he going to do?
Q's heart leapt into his mouth as M flatlined and stopped moving, the bastards had actually drowned him.
"Bring him back!" Q screamed at John, shaking with rage and desperation.
John suddenly stood up kicking his chair back in the process. "Not until you tell me what I want Q."
Q looked over at Mallory's body as the flat-line sound coming from his monitor taunted him. He looked so still, so wrong. Q couldn't let him stay dead, he couldn't do this without M.
"I'll tell you our progress." He bargained desperately.
John shook his head and laughed. "This isn't a negotiation Q, I need the purpose and the progress."
Q's eyes fell back on Mallory's still form, he could see the man was turning pale. How long ago had it been since his heart had stopped beating?
John checked his watch casually. "You'd better hurry Q, brain damage will kick in soon."
The quartermaster made a split-second decision as he stared into M's lifeless eyes, one he was sure Mallory would berate him for but screw it. He couldn't live with himself if he didn't do this.
"I'll tell you!" He screamed at John. "Just bring him back…"
John assessed the quartermaster for a brief moment and clearly saw that Q was telling the truth. He turned to the men and ordered them to bring M back. Q watched in numb shock as the men that had killed Mallory now fought to save his life. He noted how efficient they all were as they pumped down on M's chest in perfect rhythm, these men had clearly done this before.
Q waited on the edge of his seat for what felt like hours as M continued to not respond, he didn't take his eyes off the man as his body rocked from each compression. Finally a cough and the beep of a heartbeat echoed in the room, the men rolled M's chair to the side as the man hacked up all the water from his lungs and gulped oxygen back into his starved body. They kept him on his side for a while and checked the monitor to ensure the vitals were stable, when John was satisfied that M was back he ordered the men to return the chair to it's original position.
Q tried to catch M's eye as he was hauled upright but his boss had his eyes tightly shut and appeared to be in agony, he coughed and coughed but the wheezing barely dissipated and he could still only snatch small pockets of air.
John stalked back towards Q and knelt right in front of him, holding out a tape recorder towards Q's mouth.
"I've done my part. Now it's your turn."
Q felt numb as he answered John's question emotionlessly. He had made a deal with the devil, John had found a chink in his armour and was now busy stabbing him through the heart. He felt nothing as secrets tumbled from his lips into the voice recorder, his attention only really on one thing. M. He needed to see his friend's eyes, alive. He couldn't get the image out of his head of the lifeless look in M's eyes, it wasn't something he ever wanted to see again.
John smiled when Q finished and mentioned something about checking the details out, Q didn't listen he didn't care anymore. Soon the two were left alone in the cell. M still hadn't looked up at him.
"M?" Q's voice sounded petrified to his own ears, who knew what damage had been caused with the oxygen starvation that Mallory had suffered.
Q watched as M painfully dragged his head up and opened his exhausted eyes, exhausted but alive. Q had never been so relieved in all his life to see the familiar sparkling blue gaze. M tried to speak but it only set off a painful coughing fit where more water was hacked up, eventually he managed to rasp out words.
"Q, what the fuck did you do?"
Q looked into his friend's eyes expecting anger, instead he saw pity, he saw worry.
"I told him what he wanted to know." Q answered dejectedly, funnily he didn't feel ashamed about it at all. He felt nothing about it, if he had to replay the decision again he would make the same one.
M's shoulders sagged and his whole body language changed, he looked defeated. "Q." He paused to cough more, at least his lungs were starting to sound better. "You shouldn't have done that, not for me."
Q looked into Mallory's face and he suddenly felt anger, how could he not have done it?
"You died M! Dead on the floor, lifeless eyes staring at me." He screamed at his friend, willing him to understand. "He wasn't going to bring you back…"
M looked visibly shocked by the last part, perhaps they had both overestimated their value to John. Not to mention their interrogator was clearly on a timetable which was effecting the intensity of the interrogation each time, perhaps now the only thing the man had left was death.
"Q…" M began in one of his tones that Q recognised all too well, the 'my life is not important' tone.
The young quartermaster felt his rage flare again. "No M, don't you dare say it. Can you sit there and tell me that you would have left me dead on the floor?"
"That's not the point Q!" Mallory snapped back harshly, not appreciating the images Q was putting in his head.
"It's exactly the point!" Q countered harshly. "You can't evade this question Gareth."
M closed his eyes as another coughing fit wracked his body, jostling several broken ribs in the process. When he got over the episode he looked over at Q to see the man was still waiting patiently on an answer. There was nothing else for it, Q deserved honesty. "No, I couldn't sit there and let you remain dead."
Q's expression grew softer after the admission, his posture sagging with relief as his actions were reciprocated. "Then how could you expect me to?"
They both knew M was the stronger out of the two, the one who actually stood a chance of holding out under questioning. If Mallory couldn't do it then naturally Q stood no chance. He felt broken, mentally and physically. M being alive was the only thing keeping him from descending into madness, if he were alone…
M stared at him with such guilt and sorrow that it almost broke Q's heart. "I'm sorry Henry, I'm so sorry you're here."
Before Q could say anything in return the cell door slammed open and two guards walked in carrying headphones and blindfolds.
No anything but this.
Q screamed and yelled, thrashing wildly against his bonds as the headphones were slipped over his ears. The last thing he saw was M's anguished face before the blindfold stole his sight.