WARNING: This is not a happy fic, AT ALL! I warn you know, if you are at all squeamish, turn away and go read some happy fluffy bunnies Janto stuff. This will not be for you.

EDIT: I've editted the second to last paragraph since first posting this, so you my want to go back and read the end again, what happens will be mentioned in the two alternative endings, and I don't want a load of comments going 'But when did that happen?!'

Owner: Naomi!

Nickname: Leicester (Leh-ster)

Timeline: Series 2, possibley a follow on to the end of 'Fragments' 2x12 when John comes back for retribution (though not fueled by Grey, and theerefore without Grey in the hologram message. He's nothing to do with this). My version of John 'tearing Jack's world apart'.

Rating: M for extreme Violence/Torture

Author's Note: The story behind this fic is that my friend Naomi is extremely sadistic and likes it when Ianto gets tortured. Her favourite bit is when Adam is completely messing with my poor baby's mind and torturing him mentally. We were talking about it and she read my song fic for 'Savin' Me' with the minor torturing of Jack at the hands of the Master. I decided to challenge myself and not only write an entire thing about torture, but to have Ianto as the principle and to try and get it as graphic and realistic as I could. Hopefully I've achieved that!

(Yes, the way Ianto is strung up is the way John strings Jack up in 'Exit Wounds' 2x13)

There will be two different endings to this fic, an extremely sadistic, unhappy ending (not for the Janto fans out there), and a more acceptable ending. I advise anyone who likes Jack and Ianto to not read the unhappy ending when it's posted.

Disclaimer: I own nothing from below, it all belongs to Russel T. Davies, Gareth David-Lloyd and James Marsters... Probably Chris Chibnall as well as I've been playing off a bit of his stuff from the shows.

"Which artery do you normally sever?"

Cold water hit him in the face with venom, ice chips sliding from his temples, over his cheeks and down his neck, melting into the collar of his shirt. His mind was brought sharply out of the darkness and he coughed and gasped for air, unaware of anything apart from darkness around him.

The first thing Ianto felt was the burning, tearing pain searing through the muscles of his shoulders and down his sides. Next was the sensation of floating, and he quickly realised that the burning in his shoulders was accompanied by painful biting around his wrists. He was strung up somewhere, strung up by the wrists and dangling above the floor, perhaps a foot or more. He quickly took a check of himself and realised, with relief, that the only wounds were the bruise at the base of his skull and the new welts around his wrists.

Just as he was about to investigate the space below him, the lights flickered on, mechanical thunks sounding as the strip lighting just above him was flooded with light. He looked around and saw that he was the only thing illuminated in the room, and he seemed to be in a large, windowless basement of some sort. He was hanging at one end, a narrow walkway passing in front of him at the level of his knees, his feet hanging down the gap between the metal and the wall. He vaguely registered the concrete walls and floor before he noticed the figure standing in front of him, cloaked in shadows. His assailant.

"Now, now, Eye-candy. Don't you want to stay and chat for a bit?" The man stepped forwards and Ianto took in the cold, merciless smirk across John Hart's face. I should have guessed… He was remembering the callout they'd received, an artefact in a warehouse on the edge of Cardiff, on the road to Brecon Beacons. At the time, he'd wondered whether the trip was going to be anything like the incident with the cannibals. Now, he could tell it was going to be much, much worse. "I was thinking that we hadn't had much of a chance to get to know each other, and I would so dearly love to get to know you, Eye-Candy."

He had stepped back a little, towards a table on Ianto's right. The table was covered in a multitude of glinting objects. Ianto had no doubt that several of them would find a way into his body at some point and realised that he had to start finding a way out of the situation. He looked up at each of his wrists and found manacles around them, as well as barbed wire and chains, all holding him in place, hanging him from the walls to either side of him like a twisted Jesus Christ pose.

He shook his hand slightly to gauge how strong the bonds were and bit back a gasp as the barbs bit into his wrists further, sending trickles of blood down his forearms. Before he could even turn his attention to something else, a surge of pain and heat moved through him violently, sent via the bindings at each wrist.

"You try to escape, call for help, resist in anyway… and I won't hesitate to do that again." John was in front of him, looking up at him humourlessly as Ianto tried to get his breath back, cajoling his lungs into moving air again. He just glared back at John and nodded bitterly.

"Good! Now, how shall I start?" John had moved back over to the table and was moving his hand over the objects, seemingly having trouble with choosing his first instrument. He eventually settled on a series of wires at one end of the table, picking them up with the lighter that lay next to them. He pocketed them and moved back over to Ianto, leering at him.

"So, what do you want to talk about? Jack? Torchwood?" He removed Ianto's shoes and socks, tossing them behind him and then jumped up onto the walkway. He studied Ianto for a moment before rolling the man's sleeves up and grabbing his chin, forcing the face upwards to look at him. "How is he these days? Treating him well?"

Ianto didn't reply and John pulled one of the wires and the lighter out. He flicked it open and a flame popped into existence, slightly hypnotising as John put the metal into it and turned it slowly until it glowed between orange and yellow. He moved over to Ianto's left wrist and gripped it in one hand, placing the wire on the soft white flesh of the Ianto's forearm, pushing the wire up under his skin and out again, letting it sit in place, two inches of burning wire nestled beneath Ianto's flesh.

The young man threw his head back and bit down hard on his tongue to stop himself from yelling at the pain. It was an uncomfortable, searing pain that he'd never felt before though it was similar to having an extremely prolonged injection. He was barely ready for the second wire that John slid under his skin, close to the first. He did it slower this time, allowing the heat to burn through his skin and allow the wire passage. Spots shimmered on the edges of Ianto's vision, but he forced himself to look back down at John, a menacing challenge in his eyes.

John saw it and smiled, meeting the challenge with another boiling wire, and another after that. When the fifth wire was lodged in the young man's arm, John nodded in appreciation of his handiwork. He jumped from the platform and Ianto took the brief respite to concentrate on anything but the pain radiating down his arm, linking the pain in his wrist together with the muscular burning in his shoulder.

He felt his stomach sink as John returned, carrying what looked like a corkscrew in one hand and a screwdriver in the other. Ianto looked at them with apprehension, but moved his eyes sharply up at John's face as he jumped back onto the walkway and looked down at him, his grey eyes piercing through Ianto's, revealing the smallest amount of his mental imbalance. That tiny amount was enough to make Ianto's stomach twist violently in hopelessness. He barely noticed as John unbuttoned his shirt and pushed something sharp against his side.

"I told you to run, Ianto Jones." John's breath was hot on his neck, the voice tickling his ear. "I told you to run, to leave. But you didn't. None of you did." Ianto grunted in pain as he felt the metal against his side pushed and twisted into his skin a little, the large diameter of instrument causing extra discomfort. "And now I'm here to take back what's mine…" The instrument twisted even more and he felt the point puncture through more layers of tissue and muscle. His body shook slightly and with one final look of pleasure, John twisted the foot long instrument in half way and let go, the weight of the handle pulling down, forcing the metal inside upwards.

Ianto couldn't control the spasm of pain that shook him, making the chains around his wrists clink. John rolled his eyes and tutted, shaking his head as he pressed a button on his wrist strap, sending another flood and electricity through Ianto's body. Ianto felt and heard the pops as several ligaments in his shoulders snapped under the strain, increasing the pain tenfold. John pulled a patronising face as if to say 'I told you so' and pulled Ianto's face up to meet his again. "I did warn you, Eye-Candy."

Ianto clenched his jaw and tried to ignore the sensation of blood running from his wrists. He also tried to ignore the fact that John was making his way back over to him, but this time, he didn't jump up onto the platform. He ducked underneath and gripped onto Ianto's ankles, running one of his fingers along the underside of one of his feet, causing Ianto to squirm slightly, his toes curling up. John chuckled at that and Ianto cursed himself, trying his best to fight the temptation to jerk his feet away. He knew there would be another shock for that.

Instead, he toughened every single muscle in his body against what John was doing and stared resolutely ahead, ignoring the fact that John was currently setting up something beneath his feet. When he felt several sharp pricks to his skin, his eyes slid down to John and his task. Below his feet there was now a large board covered in an array of razors and needles, all pointing vertically upwards. John wound something underneath the base and Ianto felt the pain in his feet increase, making him pull his feet back, tucking them up a little. John stopped moving the table and stepped back, swinging himself up onto the walkway again.

"You're thighs will start to hurt in a while, you can't keep your feet up forever." Ianto looked John in the eye for a moment before looking away again. He had to admit it now; he was scared, more scared than he'd ever been before. Even with the cannibals, death had been imminent, with John, he would wager that death was a long way off, possibly not until insanity had already consumed him. "You never really answered my question before, Eye-Candy. How's Jack?"

Ianto took a deep breath, pushed the pain in his arms to the back of his mind and forced his eyes to meet John's again, muffling the screams of terror that erupted in his mind. "He's good, as far as I can remember. The last time I talked to him, he was telling me about something funny you two used to do… How ridiculous you were… How petty."

Ianto's voice had dropped to a whisper, but John had caught every word, his face clouding over, darkening as he reached into his waistband and pulled out a concealed dagger. In the blink of an eye, he slashed it horizontally across Ianto's stomach, sending a wave of pain out from the gash that was oozing copious amounts of blood out, running down his abdomen and soaking into the top of his briefs and trousers. Ianto gritted his teeth and tried to smother another groan of pain, rolling his eyes in frustration as his feet jerked down onto a series of razors, cutting deep into the soles of his feet. Amongst the pain, he felt a faint blossom of satisfaction, knowing that he could get under John's skin was worth it. He would die here anyway, so why not go out kicking and screaming?

"You know nothing about me, about him… There's so much of his life that you'll never know, so much that I will always be a part of…" John leaned forwards and growled at the young man as he spoke, the jealousy and envy evident in his voice. He was extremely taken aback when the Welshman started to chuckle. Had his mind already broken? "What's so funny, Eye-Candy?"

"Nothing… Nothing…" Ianto started to smile to himself, but he was caught off guard and a yell of pain escaped him as John dug his fingers into the deep gash in his stomach, sending more ripples of pain through him. "Okay! Okay… I guess I'm laughing at how desperate you are to get him back. The phrase 'cutting your nose off in spite of your face' comes to mind."

As soon as he'd said it, Ianto realised what John was thinking. The dagger was still in his hand and was creeping up to his face, the tip now resting on the bridge of his nose. Ianto held his breath as he waited for the man to decide what he was going to do. He had to struggle to stop a sigh of relief when the knife was pulled back and he stepped away a little, pulling his finger tips from the wound in his stomach. Ianto fought with himself as his body screamed at him. He would have to get used to this.

"The thing is, Eye-Candy, Jack has seen things you couldn't even begin to imagine. He's been to places that would make your mind explode. He's done things that you couldn't begin to comprehend." John considered him a while, a thoughtful expression on his face, his hands on his hips and his head cocked slightly to the side. "I just don't understand why he wants to stay here, on this hell hole of a planet."

John shook his head in puzzlement and jumped off, sauntering slowly away from Ianto, into the darkness and shadows. All Ianto could do was hang there, ignoring the pain now consuming his body and the dizziness that was threatening to pull him into unconsciousness. He was tired and bruised, his slightly blood deprived body trying to shut down and heal itself. He clenched his fists and felt the barbed wire cut into his skin again, sending new waves of blood down his arms and spasms of pain through his forearms, jerking the now dull pain from the heated wires back to life.

The soaring pain that now radiated from his left arm brought his mind back to full alert. He realised, just in time, that his feet were sinking lower to the blades beneath them and quickly jerked them upwards, causing the strain on his wrists to increase a little as his tortured muscles screamed at him for release.

He kept that position up for a long time, clenching his fists every time his mind started slip and pulling his feet up every time they dangled to low down. His stomach muscles ached and burned as the clenched to keep his legs up, and his shoulders and elbows felt like they'd been set alight, the joints stretched to their maximum, the tendons taught and painful. He was vaguely aware of hunger starting to gnaw on his stomach, his only way to gauge what time it was.

He was guessing he'd been there, alone, for about five hours before he heard any movement. He was only just aware of the figure moving through the darkness when he felt several sharp, forceful stabs to his legs, forcing them to jerk straight and the slightly healed slashes to be ripped open again by the razors and pins. Ianto groaned in pain again and looked down at his legs.

He saw about seven metal spikes sticking out of various points of his flesh. Throwing stars. He should have guessed that John would be into the theatrics that Jack revelled so much in. Jack. He swallowed hard against the tears that were welling behind his eyes. Just the thought of Jack was enough to make him break down. He pushed the mental image of the grinning, boyish American from his mind's eyes and concentrated on the pain in his legs and feet. He'd long ago lost sensation in his arms and shoulders, his stomach reduced to a throbbing mass that may or may not have been painful. His senses had warped to the point where he couldn't tell any of the types of pain apart. It all just blurred into one.

"Maybe I should tell you a bit about myself." John approached through the gloom and stood in front of him, looking at Ianto with amusement. "I was in medical school, top of the class in anatomy and surgery. Fortunately, I never really liked the whole healing business, and I was snapped up by the Time Agency. They needed an interrogator that wasn't afraid to use force. Of course, when they told me I could cut up and torture people as much as I liked, I jumped at the opportunity. There's something about watching blood flow that just fascinates me."

He jumped up again and held up several lengths of cheese wire. "So, you see, Eye-Candy, I know exactly where to cut to cause the most pain, from two completely different angles." John gave Ianto a shark like grin before wrapping wire around the thickest part of each of his upper arms which would cause the wire to slice into his skin every time he clenched his muscles. "Now, I do think it's a shame to ruin someone as stunning as yourself, but Jack destroyed you the moment he met you."

Ianto tried to block the name out again, but his arms unconsciously clenched and his skin sliced open, blood running over the pale skin again and dripping down and soaking into his shirt sleeve, saturating it to the point where the blood started to drip onto the rack of blades below. He barely noticed as John wrapped the last piece of wire around his neck, but when he felt the hot, sharp sting of open flesh, his head snapped up, straining to keep the wire away from the wound. John chuckled and looked at Ianto with a pitying look on his face.

"I must say I'm impressed, Eye-Candy. Very impressed indeed." He trailed his fingers along Ianto's jaw line and let them linger on his angular chin. "Most people would've passed out by now… but not you."

His fingers ran gently down Ianto's neck and over his chest, running along the gaping wound on his stomach and round to the corkscrew sticking into his side. He reached out suddenly and twisted the handle sharply, forcing the coil in deeper, piercing through more flesh and making Ianto yell in pain, unable to grit his teeth due to the wire around his neck. John smiled again and pulled the screwdriver out from the inside of his jacket and looked at it for a moment before stabbing it suddenly, deeply into Ianto's right shoulder, twisting it as it went in before letting go. He nodded as he watched the blood trickle from the wound. He took another moment to admire his work and study the unfortunate man in front of him.

The man was covered in blood, half congealed and dried on his pale skin. His shirt was hanging open, and the sleeves were rolled up to the elbows. The wires around his upper arms would soon be cutting the sleeves off, as well as his skin open. His dark grey trousers were lightly creased, stained black where the blood was soaking in from the wounds. He could see blood trickling from under the material and over his feet, meeting with the blood dripping from the damaged soles and falling onto the spikes beneath, now glittering a dangerous mix of silver and crimson. He stood and watched for a while longer, noticing the way the Welshman's breathing was becoming a little shallower and a little more forced, the strain in his face as he tried to keep himself conscious and alert to his surroundings. He almost pitied him. Almost.

"I'm bored now, Ianto Jones." He jumped down and fetched two more objects from the table. He returned with a syringe and a new, clean knife. He tucked the knife into the waistband of his trousers and pulled the cap off the needle, expelling any air bubbles from the syringe before stabbing it sharply into the young man's heart, just how Owen had done to him with the blood samples. He felt a small prick of satisfaction at the grunt of pain from the young man and pushed the plunger down, injecting the stimulant into the man's bloodstream. He would be awake for days, conscious to suffer the full extent of his injuries.

Next, he took Ianto's chin in his hand again and looked at him, causing the wire to bite into his neck a little more, forcing more blood down his throat and over his collar bones like a sinister necklace. He studied the pretty face in front of him and acknowledged that Jack really did have good taste in men. He sighed, slightly reluctant to mutilate the body anymore, but needing to finish his plan nonetheless. The first thing he did was to grab two identical bootdaggers from his shoes and rip them sharply across the back of Ianto's heels, severing the achilles tendons. Ianto yelled out in pain at the new wounds and the sudden dropping of his feet to the surface below. He wouldn't be able to bend his feet anymore, he'd have to rely on his knees, hips and stomach to keep his shredded feet safe.

John smiled pulled out the clean knife with one hand, placing the other on one of Ianto's arms, steadying the man for his task. He put the tip of the blade on the young man's skin and started to carve his message into the flesh, angry red letters glaring at him as they bled fiercely. He looked back at the message and allowed himself a small chuckle. Imagine if I'd spelt that wrong… He snorted and turned his back, throwing the knife and empty needle to one side and striding through the darkness and away from Ianto, leaving the basement and swinging the heavy door shut with a resounding clang. Maybe Jack would spare him some time now.