for best_served_hot Every night he had bad dreams...

[quitehomoerotic]

It had been months since then. Months since the Valiant and the terrible events that occurred upon it. It had been months of rebuilding a life. Torchwood, his team, his people.

But every night. Every night without fail. He dreamt.

No, not dreams. Dreaming sounded like too nice a word. He had nightmares. Terrible nightmares.

He did his best to ignore them, or at least get used to them, and sometimes he even managed it. He did his best to push aside the memories of that year that never was, and of the pain and terror. To forget the face of the man who caused it all. But it never was that easy.

Some nights would be easier. The nights forcing himself to stay awake or better the nights he spent with Ianto. It stilled his mind and sometimes he could even relax. But they'd still be there, tickling away at the back of his mind, reminding him that they were there. Reminding him of just what happened.

He'd even, on an occasion or two, gone to the point of taking pills to steady his mind. They worked, at least for a while.

But nothing could work for long, and when he slept, he knew to expect it, and to expect he'd wake in a sweat.

And he expected that now. Alone in the Hub at the end of a long day, lying in bed and waiting. He closed his eyes, and he knew they'd come.

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"Threatening an entity inside of your head or at least with the ability to control certain aspects of your mind isn't the most brilliant idea you've ever had, I should think." he announced, watching him move across the small room from the bed which he'd claimed for himself.

He gave a put upon sigh. "We already discussed this. Come on, catch up already!"

Only when he turns to go, that hatch slams with an audible clang, sealing him in. "Going so soon? Such a horrible host, I hope you don't intend on throwing parties."

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Jack stared up at the hatch. No. No it couldn't have. The sound echoed around the small room and Jack knew he was closed in.

"No," he shouted at the figure as he turned his head.

Jack, he heard, distant in the back of his mind. Jack! Jack wake up. Jack!

Jack frowned. It didn't make sense.

Jack!

He woke with a start.

He was lying in his bed and beside him, Ianto was sitting with one hand on his arm. "Yeah," Jack breathed out. "Yeah. Must have been asleep."

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All day, Jack pondered on that dream. That dream that wasn't a dream. The Master. No. It wasn't the Master. It was... he didn't know.

Another day passed, more adventures, more chasing, more shooting. The same old thing. It came to night and he was alone. He didn't want to go to sleep.

He didn't want to. So he stayed awake. He stayed awake, that was, until his body forced him to sleep. Exhaustion setting in, deep in the night.

He drifted off.

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And when he woke it would be to that cell the Master had secured him in towards the end of the Year. Manacles digging into his wrists.

"Oh hoho! I do like his tastes! I mean, he pulled out all the stops for you didn't he? Could use with a bit of fancy decor but I think that would be wasted on you, wouldn't it?" he said as he ducked under an arm in order to stand in front of him, smiling.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack 'woke' with a start. He hadn't meant to fall asleep. He hadn't.

But that thought barely matters as the realisation of where he was dawned on him.

Oh no. No no no. He couldn't be there. He couldn't be. Of all places. That had gone, that ordeal was in the past.

"This is a dream," he said through gritted teeth, pulling his arms against the shackles. "You're not real."

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The Master smiled easily, as if he were an idiot and patted his cheek. He stepped back a couple of steps, inspecting the cell, even if he already knew all it's nuances. After all, he had built it especially for the freak.

"Doesn't feel much like a dream though, does it?"

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Jack looked around. It was identical. Utterly identical. Right down to the scratches on the walls, or the bullet marks where they'd cut through his body and out to hit it at the other side.

He'd had these nightmares before, where he'd remembered being there, but none so vivid as this. None so very very lucid and real.

"You can't be him," Jack said. They'd had this conversation the last time Jack was asleep, but he needed to convince himself as much as anything.

The Master was dead and gone. Gone.

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It was exact, down to the clock on the wall and the date. Even the guard was there, eyes on Jack in case he tried anything.

"I found this buried in there while I was waiting for you to exhaust yourself and I can't help but be fascinated." he mused, pacing the small area in front of him. "I think, I could be wrong, but this was when you were first introduced to- Oh, what did he call them?" he sighed and made a show of pretending he was looking through Jack to pluck the information out of his mind.

"Oh yes, the Toclofane."

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Jack's face went pale with fear. He tugged a little more against the shackles but the only result was making them dig in more against his arms, painful as they cut into the skin.

"No" he said.

He couldn't go through this again. Not like this. Not in such vivid reality. "This is just a dream," he repeated again, parroting his own words. "Just a dream."

What could it be, this creature, to reach into his mind and pluck the image so perfectly? He didn't know of anything that could do this.

"Wake up. Wake up. Wake up," he whispered the words under his breath, behind closed eyes. He just needed to force himself to wake up and the nightmare would end.

"You've got no control over me. You're just a dream."

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The Master chuckled, watching him struggle in vain and felt a familiar rush go through him. This was going far better than he had imagined. He chuckled then, turning as the door opened and his three favorites hovered in.

"There he is! We found him." piped up one, a male voice.

"My Mister Master, hiding again. So kind and he always plays games with us!" came the high pitched voice next, a girl's. "Can we finally play with your very favorite toy? We only get to watch, can we play? Pretty please?" It was child-like, plaintive even and it made the Master smile. He did miss them, his children.

The metal orbs hovered closer to Jack, darting around excitedly. Another male voice, sounding older than both, spoke up. "If his head were to come off would it grow back?"

The Master outright laughed then. "Such curious little things. Adorable, really. Makes me feel all fuzzy inside."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack's heart beat fast; racing at triple speed. The Toclafane, or whatever they were, had killed him before. They had killed him with their blades, cutting him to pieces slowly, making him scream in agony as they tore him up.

It was a terrible memory, and a memory recalled now in fear as he felt the air shift around him as the spheres flew in circles.

This was all too very real.

Jack looked at the Master. He stared at him. He felt sick.

"You're him..." he said, and he tried not to sound as scared as he felt.

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The Master took a deep breath, savoring this moment as if he were drinking a very fine wine. The orbs still flitted about in this memory conjured up for the both of them and he walked closer, ike a cat toying with a mouse before it's killed.

He moved closed enough to where he was in his space, eyes cold and full of malice. It was all a game. All of it and the Master was so very good at winning games.

"What gave it away?"

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"How?" Jack demanded, not answering the Master's question.

"You died. I saw you die. How are you doing this?"

Jack had always been afraid. Afraid when he was on the Valiant, afraid of what the Master might do. He always managed to hide it well in the past. But here, knowing he was in his own dreams, that was somehow so much more terrifying.

"Why? Why me?"

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"Oh no you don't. Not giving away my secrets so early, I have things to do. Planets to destroy, a cosmos to conquer, you know, the usual." he grinned, eyes a bit wild.

"Kinda scary isn't it? I had you going for a bit, you really thought I was some worthless entity pretending to play around in your head using my form?" He tsked him, clearly unamused.

"You're getting slow, old man."

He continued to watch him. "Next to the Doctor, you were my favorite. A mind so strong was just begging to be broken and so I set to work. The only reason I'm mucking about in your head is easy access." he smirked.

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Jack stared at the Master with utter disgust. He thought he was rid of him. He thought death had been the end.

He should have known better.

"Oh but you're nothing," Jack says with an almost laugh. "So you give me bad dreams, so what? I'll wake up eventually and then you'll be gone again. You're nothing. Nothing at all."

That had to be right, didn't it? There was nothing he could do past this. At least he hoped not.

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The Master stepped even closer, giving a cold, cruel laugh of his own. "Do you think I'd waste my time with you if that was all I could do?"

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Jack bristled with fear.

The words cut through him like a knife.

"You're bluffing," he tried to laugh and sound as flippant as he possibly could, but beneath the surface the very idea was terrifying.

"You wasted your time last time," he spat, "didn't do you much good then."

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"You only wish I was." he said, ignoring his last statement.

The Master reached out, placing a hand on Jack's chest, over his heart. He then leaned in as if he were sharing a prized secret. "Listen, Jack, don't you hear it?"

His fingers on the Fact's chest mimicked the steady four-beat. Tap-tap tap-tap, over and over again.

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"Stop it," Jack said angrily as the Master tapped his fingers against his chest.

"You don't get to me that way," he wouldn't hypnotise him like he hypnotised the whole of the UK into believing in Harold Saxon. He wouldn't let him.

But that was foolish too, wasn't it? Saying he wouldn't? Saying he couldn't? Because he was in his mind now, in his dreams. And even though Jack knew it was a dream, he couldn't break free from it.

And even too as he scolded the Master and rejected his threats, he heard it, like an echo in his mind. An echo of the taps.

An echo of a drum beat.

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The Master continued the four-beat, the drums, never-ending and eternal. "I don't need to hypnotize you to gain control. To use you." he whispered.

"Closer and closer. You can hear them now, can't you?" He didn't need an answer to know that he could. "It never stops. It will never, ever stop and they are so demanding." he hissed, sounding nearly desperate.

"This constant noise." he said, looking up to meet Jack's gaze once more. "You hear it? Don't you?"

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"No," Jack said back, desperately. Oh that thought was chilling. To use him? What did he mean by that? What could he possibly have planned? There's nothing that Jack wouldn't put past him. Nothing.

He heard it though, and as the Master spoke, as he went on, they got louder.

Tap tap tap tap. Tap tap tap tap. Tap tap tap tap.

He looked up at the Master, met his eyes to at least make a show of being fearless, and he wondered if this was what it was like for him. Is this what he heard? So constantly? Is this what drove him to insanity?

"What have you done to me?" he grit through his teeth, and his fear was in his eyes.

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But Jack was only getting a small taste of what it was like for the Master. For the Time Lord it was so loud and constant.

"I've heard it since I was a child." he admitted, gaze suddenly far off, lost in memory. Thinking about that, he frowned and looked at Jack again. "We're sharing one mind, it was bound to bleed through sooner or later."

There was something else Jack might catch in his gaze, remorse possibly. But it could have been an illusion. "I'm sorry."

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"You're sorry?" Jack tugged on the chains as if to just prove how out of place that statement was in this scenario.

The Master looked genuinely remorseful for a second, but it was nothing, it passed and even if it didn't, Jack didn't care. Right now, locked in the recesses of his own mind, trapped inside a nightmare, he wasn't feeling overly receptive to the Master's emotions.

"How long," Jack said, "how long have you been here?"

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That seemed to snap the Master out of his reverie, the tugging of the chains.

He had been genuinely remorseful but it really had no place here. Nor did it have a place in his plans, that was all Jack would get. Things had to move forward. He wanted existence back. Life.

"Still trying to get information. Ever the soldier, dear Captain. You wouldn't appreciate the answer anyways."

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"You won't succeed. Whatever you're trying here, you won't succeed." Jack warned him with a growl, tugging on the chains a little more.

The memories in this room were horrific, and so many were buried and uncovering themselves, merely by virtue of his being there. He was terrified.

"I'll wake up," he said, "you're just a nightmare. You're not real." He wanted so desperately to believe that.

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The Master stepped back then, smiling graciously as if he were the host of a magnificent party and Jack were an honored guest.

"And on that brave note, I leave you to their tender mercies. They have so been looking forward to playing with you. Have fun!"