branwen_blaidd

Title: The Captain and The Boy 15/65

Pairing: Jack/Ianto, Jack/Others, Ianto/Others

Ratings: Adult – graphic sex and some violence throughout

Spoilers: General spoilers for first 2 series

Summary: An AU version of Jack, Ianto and Torchwood. Some pre-series.

Disclaimers: I own nothing.

Notes: With thanks to oncomingscone and rowanheart24 for their glorious help! Comments make me write more. I hope you enjoy this. I’ve been working on this story for nearly a year and it’s finally finished. I’ve very proud of it and I hope it’s good enough for my lovely readers! This is a finished series and won’t be abandoned. I’m planning to post a chapter a day (at roughly the same time) until it’s finished.

Michael ran. He’d never been more frightened in his life, not when his dad had thrown him out, not even when he’d had his first client. Ianto had protected him and now Ianto was going to suffer for it.

Michael felt horrible but he couldn’t go back. He was too frightened of what Stuart would do to him. Ianto had been frightened too. He’d been terrified, though he’d tried not to show it. Anything which made Ianto that scared really was something to be avoided.

He stopped running a block from the flats. He huddled up in a corner, worrying. What would Stuart be doing to him? Would he be hurting him? He’d mentioned pain. He’d talked about humiliation. Michael couldn’t leave him alone, not after all Ianto had done for him. It was Michael’s fault Ianto was in this mess.

He braced himself, then walked back to the block of flats. He didn’t go inside, but waited around the corner, watching the main door.

Half an hour after he ran from the flat, the front door opened and Stuart strode out. Michael hid around the corner and waited until he’d left, then ran back inside and up to Ianto.

The door was open. The first thing Michael heard was running water and beneath that was the sound of sobbing. Michael hurried through to the bathroom. As he passed the main room, he noticed that all Ianto’s things had been thrown out of their drawers, his clothes had been ripped up and his safe had been emptied.

Ianto was on the floor of the bathroom. The clothes he was wearing had been torn and Ianto was bloody and bruised. His silver cross was missing. There was come on his face and in his hair.

The shower was running and Ianto was trying to get up over the side of the bath to get himself clean.

Michael went right over to him and hooked an arm under his shoulders. “Careful,” he murmured.

Ianto shook his head. “You shouldn’t be here.” His voice was thick and gurgled slightly, as though he had water in his throat. Michael knew it was blood.

“If he comes back…”

“What did he say?”

“Said I’m to be out by tonight.”

Michael hoisted Ianto to his feet and started helping him off with his clothes. “Then we’ve got time. We’ve got to get you clean. Are you bleeding still?”

Ianto shook his head. “Don’t think so.”

Once Ianto was naked, Michael helped him into the bath and sat him down. Ianto swayed a little and held onto his head as he sat in the bath.

“So we’re homeless?” Michael asked as he detached the shower head and turned the spray down. He fiddled with the temperature until it was warm but not hot.

“Yeah,” said Ianto. “But we’ll be all right. I promised I’d look after you and that’s what I’m going to do.” He hissed as the water sprayed one of his especially sore places.

“Sorry,” said Michael.

Ianto squeezed his hand. “You’re a good lad.”

Michael bit his lip, watching as the water uncovered the wounds littering Ianto’s skin. He’d taken a bad beating.

In silence, Michael went about cleaning Ianto up until only the cuts and marks remained. He helped Ianto out of the bath and wrapped him in a towel. They struggled back into the main room and Michael sat Ianto on the bed whilst he searched for some intact clothes for him to wear. He managed to find some slightly ragged jeans, a t-shirt and a jacket underneath the bed.

When he returned to Ianto, he realised that Ianto was crying. “Ianto? Does it hurt?”

Ianto hid his face. “Yeah.” He grabbed his clothes and threw them on. “We’ve got to get out of here.”

“Hey, wait, you’re hurt. We should…”

Ianto looked hard at Michael. “We need to get out of here now. If he comes back and we’re still here, we’re dead. Literally. Do you understand that?”

Michael swallowed and nodded. “What are we going to do?”

Ianto rubbed Michael’s arm. “We’ll be all right, kiddo. Now, let’s get together whatever we’ve got left and get gone.”