Oneshot: Loving Leash

[galadriel1010]

Title: Loving Leash
Characters: Jack. Mentions of Jack/team
Genre: Angst
Rating: T
Era: Series 2
Series: None
Summary: Jack has his ways of keeping the team loyal to him and to Torchwood.
Contains: Moody Jack, thoughts of love, fear and spiders' webs.
Dedication:: For thebuttonontop , who I've not known as long as I wish I had. She is squishable and lovely, and requested angst.
Beta: Ruuuuth


Jack stood at the window, watching people on the street below. They had no idea about what went on around them and below them every day, the battles for survival and the sacrifices made. Most days he was happy to keep it that way, even wanted to keep it that way. The ones who knew, his team, couldn't walk down a street without looking over their shoulder. He'd taken them and twisted them to his purpose, made them scared because people who were scared were more dangerous. More vulnerable.

The ancient Greeks had bound their armies together by love, promoted couples to the Sacred Band, the elite fighting force of men who would kill for each other, because dying is only useful once. Jack was too selfish to bind them like that, though. He wanted them to himself, wanted and needed them to love only him, and needed it to be for him, not for Torchwood. Gwen's relationship with Rhys was for Torchwood, it was their tie to the outside world that kept them all on the straight and narrow and held them back from sinking into Jack's maelstrom. Her love for Jack, though, just as with the others, was to keep Jack sane and safe, to keep his star burning and stop it collapsing in on itself to form an all-consuming black hole.

He couldn't live without them. He needed them like he needed oxygen.

So it was fear that bound them to Torchwood, and he kept them scared to keep them close. When they wandered, he reminded them what was out there and what they were protecting the world from, reminded them of who they were fighting for. Not for him, not this, because what could hurt him? But if Tosh's eyes grew too wondering at what she'd found, Jack would nudge the right piece of technology towards her and ask if she'd spoken to her family lately. She'd see the horror again and remember why she fought, and she'd come back to his side like a well trained dog. If Owen drifted away from the Hub too early and stayed in the bars too late, then Jack would have a story for him, or a body found at exactly the right time. The Rift would provide, just like it always did.

And Ianto. Broken, shattered, defeated Ianto, what did Jack really need to do to keep him to heel? He had given everything to Jack in love, and everything else had been washed away by fear. He was Torchwood's and Jack's entirely.

Jack turned back and sat on the edge of the bed, tracing his fingers over Ianto's face. The touch woke him up and he smiled up at Jack, catching his hand and pulling it away with a kiss to the knuckles. When he opened his arms, Jack folded into them gratefully, accepting what Ianto gave him, and tried to pretend that he was giving nothing back.

Because every time Ianto joined him on the streets Jack's heart constricted with fear, and every time he walked into the room it filled with warmth. Jack would kill to keep him safe, and grant mercy to keep his love. He would give him the moon and stars if he asked, steal fire from the Gods, and die a thousand times. He would sacrifice the world to save Ianto's life.

So he pretended, pretended that the web he'd woven hadn't trapped him, and that Ianto hadn't been the spider all along.

“For what goes up your winding stair can ne'er come down again.” The Spider and the Fly by Mary Howitt