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Description
Broken Strings - Their Fourth Night: One Foot Wrong
A Torchwood Fanfiction
Three days have passed without seeing each other...
_______________

It's a whole different world Fox sees through the rear-view mirror.
The young man is sitting on the front seat of a lorry currently heading towards the city of London behind him the untouched idyll of the countryside.
He knew everything would be alright but he had to make sure...for Sarah and the kids.

The road is still white, despite all the vehicles passing the only trace they leave are tracks in the snow, deep lines bruising the once flawless surface. The cold glass of the passenger seat window stings itself into his burning hand; the cold helps a little clear the impenetrable fog of blurred emotions in his head leaving only one impossible yearning...
Jack...

No matter what he does...the longing becomes stronger with every passing second.
He hoped it would eventually become better if he leaves the city for a few days but his little trip only made everything worse.

His mouth feels dry no matter how much he drinks, his stomach feels strange no matter how much he eats, his fingers tremble at the delicious memory of the smooth skin beneath their tips...

No matter how much he tries to shut his memories away, his body still remembers and protests for its cruel and sudden withdrawal from the other man...it hurts and the more his brain tells him to stop, the more his body craves for contact.

Every single cell is screaming to him, yearning for the bittersweet pain, sending him on cold withdrawal. His body is burning with desire but shivering from the loneliness he feels.

At moments he wishes to simply throw himself into Jack's arms to soothe the pain and on other moments he simply wants to throw himself off a roof to end this ridiculous joke the universe is putting him through.

But he cannot die, not yet. He has to take care of Sarah and the children first.
Fox knows that he is moving on thin ice; one foot wrong and he will fall...
Nobody is going to catch him this time.
He has to stick to his plan.

*****************
Jack is wandering through the busy streets; he feels miserable.
No life signs of Fox for whole three days now.
Three days of torturous waiting and self denial... he hates to wait...
And he hates to admit that he has grown attached to him.
Jack was already beginning to worry...
That was before he saw the young man climbing off a lorry on that morning.

Fox saw him.

Jack is sure he saw that glimmer of recognition in his eyes before Fox turned to walk into the other direction without a word. Why is he avoiding him? What has he done wrong? Why was it bothering him so much? The knowledge that the other man was avoiding him deliberately hurts, more than any other wound he remembers.

Jack's mind is in uproar not to mention the rest of his body. ..
Every single nerve of his body feel more or less like a melted puddle of goo.
When had been the last time he felt so apathetic?
Nothing matters...until the anger starts to build inside him again.

What the fuck has he done wrong to deserve this shit???
Jack kicks an empty tin can on the street and hits a poor woman on her head with it; he apologizes immediately and the anger starts to subside leaving nothing than the agonizing feeling of emptiness. Struggling through his shifting states of mind Jack avoids any forms of contact; trying to harm as less people as possible.

He doesn't need Fox; he did very well without him before and he will do fabulous without him in the future.

That is when he sees him again.
Jack would recognise the back of that head between millions of others and that profile simply is unmistakable. Before he realizes what he is actually doing Jack's feet have already started to follow the young man.

He follows Fox through myriads of streets and alleys until the other man arrives at an old brick building. A woman and kids...Jack shouldn't be too surprised he already guessed as much
But he simply can't help it... the biting feeling of certainty weighs so much more than being kept in sweet suspense.

He should walk away straight into the next bar and chat up someone cute.
Man, woman, no matter whom or what just somebody else to get rid of these useless emotions...
Drown them in alcohol and beautiful bodies...
But his feet won't move. They fix him on place and make him watch the blue painted door.

He has no idea how much time passes until he sees the young man emerging from this door.
He doesn't care. Jack's feet are just following and his mind simply admits defeat.

*****************

Fox groans a little in pain when the other man shoves him into the wall.
"Not so cheeky now, aren't we? You were a really naughty boy and I'm going to teach you not to play with adults again..."

He can see the glistening steel of the knife the other man is threatening with but doesn't respond, his attacker pulls him slightly forward only to slam him back into the wall again this time with greater force. "Don't even try to play mind tricks on me!"

Still no answer; his job is done, nothing else matters to him now anymore...

"Fine, I'll make you talk...oh yes, lets see how much you'll talk without your pretty little fingers..."

He watches as the other man raises his arm to bring it sharply down again.

"Drop it! NOW!"

Why? Why just him... again?
The thug turns his face towards Jack who is aiming his gun at his head.

"One wrong move and you've got a fourth hole in your face."

He lets go of Fox's shoulder and disappears behind the next corner.

Jack runs towards the young man, hissing
"What the hell is wrong with you???"

Fox doesn't want to know, he doesn't want to hear, he doesn't want to feel...
He just stands there without giving a reply.

"Why are you wandering through this part of London anyway?"

"I could ask you the same."
The expression on Fox's face is blank when he gives an indifferent shrug.
"I'm smuggling goods; this is the best route to avoid controls."

Jack's anger is building again, especially at sensing the indifference in the other man
"And what with these people attacking you?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary. Happens regularly; I've always managed to survive somehow."

There is no way Jack can ignore the bitterness flashing up in Fox's face .
"What if you don't?"

"I don't care. I've got no reason to live now, not anymore."

The emotionless expression and voice in the other man's answer is stinging him even more than the actual words and Jack wants nothing more than to hit the young man. His eyes are strangely glistening when he moves forward to lock his gaze with Jack's; their noses almost touching.

But his expression of suppressed anger turns into a surprised one when Jack suddenly slams him back into the wall. "Don't you ever dare saying that ever again!"

"...Why?"

"...I...I don't want you to get hurt!"

"Why do you care?"

Fox's questions are throwing him off.
Why?
Because he feels responsible?
Because he knows Fox has got a girl and kids waiting for him?
Because he is hurt that he means so little to the other man?
Jack doesn't know...

"I...I just do, okay?"

Jack pins Fox's arms against the brick wall and leans forward, lips almost touching with the other mans to hiss "Wanna feel alive? Feel this!"

He uses his body to press the other man flush against the wall and engages him into a rough, bruising kiss.
Only breaking for air he starts to nip the exposed skin of the young man's throat.
Feeling Fox's growing arousal through the fabric of their trousers pressing against his own Jack growls. "I'm so gonna show you reasons to live!"
and drags the other man behind him leading the way through the busy streets of London.
It's already too late to turn; he made the first step and hopes he made the right choice.

Fox doesn't say a word; he just feels like falling through the fire...
welcoming the warmth after the long period of coldness in his heart
but afraid of the burns...and of what is waiting for him on the other side...

Description
Broken Strings - Their Fourth Night: One Foot Wrong
A Torchwood Fanfiction
Three days have passed without seeing each other...
_______________

It's a whole different world Fox sees through the rear-view mirror.
The young man is sitting on the front seat of a lorry currently heading towards the city of London behind him the untouched idyll of the countryside.
He knew everything would be alright but he had to make sure...for Sarah and the kids.

The road is still white, despite all the vehicles passing the only trace they leave are tracks in the snow, deep lines bruising the once flawless surface. The cold glass of the passenger seat window stings itself into his burning hand; the cold helps a little clear the impenetrable fog of blurred emotions in his head leaving only one impossible yearning...
Jack...

No matter what he does...the longing becomes stronger with every passing second.
He hoped it would eventually become better if he leaves the city for a few days but his little trip only made everything worse.

His mouth feels dry no matter how much he drinks, his stomach feels strange no matter how much he eats, his fingers tremble at the delicious memory of the smooth skin beneath their tips...

No matter how much he tries to shut his memories away, his body still remembers and protests for its cruel and sudden withdrawal from the other man...it hurts and the more his brain tells him to stop, the more his body craves for contact.

Every single cell is screaming to him, yearning for the bittersweet pain, sending him on cold withdrawal. His body is burning with desire but shivering from the loneliness he feels.

At moments he wishes to simply throw himself into Jack's arms to soothe the pain and on other moments he simply wants to throw himself off a roof to end this ridiculous joke the universe is putting him through.

But he cannot die, not yet. He has to take care of Sarah and the children first.
Fox knows that he is moving on thin ice; one foot wrong and he will fall...
Nobody is going to catch him this time.
He has to stick to his plan.

*****************
Jack is wandering through the busy streets; he feels miserable.
No life signs of Fox for whole three days now.
Three days of torturous waiting and self denial... he hates to wait...
And he hates to admit that he has grown attached to him.
Jack was already beginning to worry...
That was before he saw the young man climbing off a lorry on that morning.

Fox saw him.

Jack is sure he saw that glimmer of recognition in his eyes before Fox turned to walk into the other direction without a word. Why is he avoiding him? What has he done wrong? Why was it bothering him so much? The knowledge that the other man was avoiding him deliberately hurts, more than any other wound he remembers.

Jack's mind is in uproar not to mention the rest of his body. ..
Every single nerve of his body feel more or less like a melted puddle of goo.
When had been the last time he felt so apathetic?
Nothing matters...until the anger starts to build inside him again.

What the fuck has he done wrong to deserve this shit???
Jack kicks an empty tin can on the street and hits a poor woman on her head with it; he apologizes immediately and the anger starts to subside leaving nothing than the agonizing feeling of emptiness. Struggling through his shifting states of mind Jack avoids any forms of contact; trying to harm as less people as possible.

He doesn't need Fox; he did very well without him before and he will do fabulous without him in the future.

That is when he sees him again.
Jack would recognise the back of that head between millions of others and that profile simply is unmistakable. Before he realizes what he is actually doing Jack's feet have already started to follow the young man.

He follows Fox through myriads of streets and alleys until the other man arrives at an old brick building. A woman and kids...Jack shouldn't be too surprised he already guessed as much
But he simply can't help it... the biting feeling of certainty weighs so much more than being kept in sweet suspense.

He should walk away straight into the next bar and chat up someone cute.
Man, woman, no matter whom or what just somebody else to get rid of these useless emotions...
Drown them in alcohol and beautiful bodies...
But his feet won't move. They fix him on place and make him watch the blue painted door.

He has no idea how much time passes until he sees the young man emerging from this door.
He doesn't care. Jack's feet are just following and his mind simply admits defeat.

*****************

Fox groans a little in pain when the other man shoves him into the wall.
"Not so cheeky now, aren't we? You were a really naughty boy and I'm going to teach you not to play with adults again..."

He can see the glistening steel of the knife the other man is threatening with but doesn't respond, his attacker pulls him slightly forward only to slam him back into the wall again this time with greater force. "Don't even try to play mind tricks on me!"

Still no answer; his job is done, nothing else matters to him now anymore...

"Fine, I'll make you talk...oh yes, lets see how much you'll talk without your pretty little fingers..."

He watches as the other man raises his arm to bring it sharply down again.

"Drop it! NOW!"

Why? Why just him... again?
The thug turns his face towards Jack who is aiming his gun at his head.

"One wrong move and you've got a fourth hole in your face."

He lets go of Fox's shoulder and disappears behind the next corner.

Jack runs towards the young man, hissing
"What the hell is wrong with you???"

Fox doesn't want to know, he doesn't want to hear, he doesn't want to feel...
He just stands there without giving a reply.

"Why are you wandering through this part of London anyway?"

"I could ask you the same."
The expression on Fox's face is blank when he gives an indifferent shrug.
"I'm smuggling goods; this is the best route to avoid controls."

Jack's anger is building again, especially at sensing the indifference in the other man
"And what with these people attacking you?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary. Happens regularly; I've always managed to survive somehow."

There is no way Jack can ignore the bitterness flashing up in Fox's face .
"What if you don't?"

"I don't care. I've got no reason to live now, not anymore."

The emotionless expression and voice in the other man's answer is stinging him even more than the actual words and Jack wants nothing more than to hit the young man. His eyes are strangely glistening when he moves forward to lock his gaze with Jack's; their noses almost touching.

But his expression of suppressed anger turns into a surprised one when Jack suddenly slams him back into the wall. "Don't you ever dare saying that ever again!"

"...Why?"

"...I...I don't want you to get hurt!"

"Why do you care?"

Fox's questions are throwing him off.
Why?
Because he feels responsible?
Because he knows Fox has got a girl and kids waiting for him?
Because he is hurt that he means so little to the other man?
Jack doesn't know...

"I...I just do, okay?"

Jack pins Fox's arms against the brick wall and leans forward, lips almost touching with the other mans to hiss "Wanna feel alive? Feel this!"

He uses his body to press the other man flush against the wall and engages him into a rough, bruising kiss.
Only breaking for air he starts to nip the exposed skin of the young man's throat.
Feeling Fox's growing arousal through the fabric of their trousers pressing against his own Jack growls. "I'm so gonna show you reasons to live!"
and drags the other man behind him leading the way through the busy streets of London.
It's already too late to turn; he made the first step and hopes he made the right choice.

Fox doesn't say a word; he just feels like falling through the fire...
welcoming the warmth after the long period of coldness in his heart
but afraid of the burns...and of what is waiting for him on the other side...