TW fic: Before the Fall (Jack/Ianto, adult)

[marita_c]

Title: Before the Fall
Word count: ~23,000
Characters: Jack/Ianto, Gwen, Lois. Cameo by the Doctor and a few OCs.
Spoilers: Seasons 1-3.
Disclaimer: Not mine, no profit.
Rating: Adult (NC-17) for sex. Twice! 
Warnings: PLOT. Lots of it. Underage sex, with one party being 16 and the other waaaay older. Angst. Implied future character death (sort of...). 

Note: This is a post CoE curtains!fic that follows my fix-it fic Get Your Bearings, which you should read before this one if you want to know how things got to where they are.

Summary: When Ianto goes missing under suspicious circumstances, Jack discovers that the path to finding him goes through his lover’s mysterious past. The truths he uncovers, however, may end up destroying both of them. (Dramatic, eh?) Takes place a few months after Get Your Bearings.

Thanks: Phew. Can’t believe this is finally done. It only took forever. I had to do serious revisions following CoE in addition to writing a fix-it prequel so that this story won’t turn into an AU. andreth47 did the original beta on this story, and did it brilliantly. Without her encouraging comments I’m not sure I would have bothered looking at it after CoE. The revised version was edited by the awesome nanfreak , and her beta-fu made this story way better than it used to be. 

Prologue Bristol, September 15, 1999 The music inside the club is loud enough to penetrate every corner of his mind, and for a little while there’s no more strangeness. The voices that have been haunting him for months are quiet, or perhaps just temporarily drowned out by the rhythmic beat of the bass. His bones are vibrating with it. He stays inside almost until closure, and when he finally steps out into the clean, crisp air of pre- dawn, the quiet feels almost deafening. The club’s bouncer gives him a strange look, but Ianto ignores him. He knows the only reason they let him in without an ID is that he looks older than his sixteen years. He digs through his coat pocket and pulls out a pack of cigarettes. The first puff fails to provide the anticipated illusion of warmth. His fever must be back. A shiver runs through him, as if to confirm his suspicions. He curses and starts walking fast down the street. It’s still completely dark out, and he makes a conscious effort not to look into alleys and shadowed areas. He doesn’t need these distractions now, of false images, false sounds. He just needs to get home. Well… not home.   He thinks of the small, dank room he’s been sleeping in for the past week, lets his mind wander to his home in Newport. His sister, left by herself. She’s probably asleep now, safely tucked in her bed. His thoughts are interrupted by the sound of feet scraping on pavement behind him. He twists around quickly, heart racing, but the street is completely deserted. Just his mind playing tricks on him. Again. He’s been careful, he reminds himself. There’s no way Torchwood could have found him. He turns into the next street and his steps falter a little as he notices movement in the corner of his eye. He swallows and quickens his pace. It’s just his imagination. It has to be. He takes another drag of the fag and as he flicks it away he matter-of-factly glances over his shoulder. There. A shadow. Fuck. How did they find him? Why weren’t they just swooping in? There’s no one around. No one to see. He shivers again, but this time it’s as much from fear as it is from the fever.  His vision blurs, and he blinks furiously. Bollocks. Not now. He rounds the next corner and stops, plastering his back against the wall, then slowly reaches into his back pocket and removes his small flip knife. It only takes another minute. The steps, more distinct now, grow closer and closer, and then a single shadow appears. He moves quickly, the element of surprise giving him the advantage, and within a second has the man’s back flush against the wall with the knife pressed against his neck.  After an initial grunt of surprise, the man winces. “Hi, Ianto. Also, ouch.” Ianto frowns, but doesn’t let up. “Who the fuck are you, and why are you following me?” The other man shifts a little, and somehow manages to extend out a hand. “Captain Jack Harkness.” Continue >>