ext_124392 (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
ohforfeckssake.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
wintercompanion2007-08-27 06:08 am
ohforfeckssake.livejournal.com) wrote in wintercompanion2007-08-27 06:08 am
Entry tags:
Fic; The End of The Universe
Title: The End of The Universe
Author: Miss M
Prompt used: Spoilerrific, under cut
Pairing: Ten/Jack (obv.)
Rating: R (For language, more than anything.)
Spoilers/warnings: Angst, hurt/comfort, The Doctor acting *really* irrationally. Spoilers for Doctor Who Series 3, and mild ones for Torchwood Series 1
Summary: Jack and The Doctor are at the end of the universe again, and The Doctor is behaving strangely. Jack tries to put it right before it's too late for both of them.
A/N: Okay, so here is my prompt. I hope this isn't too late. D:
Grieving over the Master, Jack takes it upon himself to comfort him, but the Doctor doesn't want comfort he want's to be left alone, how will Jack get through to him? Also The Doctor says something horrible to Jack which really hurts him.
'Regenerate. Just regenerate.'
The Doctor kept repeating, face obscured as it pressed into The Master's shoulder. He'd been dead for a good while - but Jack remained rooted to the spot. To edge any closer, he felt, would be to intrude on a very private moment of grief - even if it was in a room full of startled onlookers. Martha glanced over to him, eyes pleading as she clutched onto her shell-shocked mother. She had her own problems to deal with, now, so The Doctor became Jack's problem alone.
He walked, cautiously, towards The Doctor - gently kneeling down beside him and pressing a hand to his shoulder.
'Doctor-'
The Last of the Timelords looked up, sharply - cheeks splattered with red blotches and fresh saline still shining on the surface. He nodded wordlessly and placed The Master back down on the floor. Jack's hand snapped away, sensing an overwhelming order to back off - without The Doctor needing to say a word. The slender figure rose to his feet, dusting down his pin-striped trousers and swiping a blase hand over his face.
'Doctor.'
Jack repeated - a request for attention that was duly ignored. The Doctor turned to one of the Valiant's security team, jabbing a bony finger in his direction.
'I want this body secured and wrapped for transport - now.'
'Sir, I'm afraid I can't allow that. Harold Saxon was responsible for the death of the President of the USA. The authoriti-'
'I don't care what the authorities want.' He growled, teeth gritted as he craned his neck forward. 'That body belongs to me, and-'
'Officer.' Jack interrupted, stepping forward and producing his battered Torchwood ID card from his trouser pocket. 'Torchwood. We'll be in charge of this investigation from now on, and I'd like you to do as The Doctor says, alright?'
Jack stepped forward, in close quarters with the bewildered security man.
'I want that body prepped for transport in half an hour, okay? Get whoever you need on the job, and-' He paused, glancing over his shoulder. 'I know, how you might be feeling right now - and believe me, I feel the same way - but I'll ask you nicely to treat him with respect, alright? Some of us aren't quite as happy to see him go.'
The security guard glanced over at The Doctor, pacing back and forth frustratedly - hand knotted in messy spikes of hair - and he nodded.
'As you wish, Sir. Like you say,' He frowned. 'I'll be glad to see him go, regardless of the method.'
'Good man.' Jack half smiled, offering a reassuring tap on the shoulder.
The security man saluted, and walked away - calling for fellow officers to assist with the preparation of The Master's corpse.
'All sorted.' Jack nodded, getting a muttered 'thanks' from The Doctor for his trouble. 'We could - go and get The TARDIS ready? Maybe take Martha and her family away? I don't think anyone really needs to see this.'
He didn't wait for a response, assisting Martha in removing her family from the room. He heard a soft beckon from behind him and he turned back as Martha, her mother, father and Tish left the room. The Doctor was staring at him with a cold look of detachment in his eyes. He shook his head and spoke quietly, as the security officers returned with an opaque, plastic body-bag.
'I do.'
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Jack stared up at the ceiling and let out a sigh, wondering how he always managed to get into situations like this. Restlessly, he turned on his side, tugging the rumpled sheets around his shoulders. They'd been in the year one-hundred trillion for what must have been weeks, now - and The Doctor showed no signs of wanting to leave any time soon. He'd left Jack pretty much alone on The TARDIS - hidden himself deep within the catacombs with The Master's body. If he hadn't known better he'd have thought that kind of behaviour to be rather odd, but he assumed it was part of some kind of Timelord death ritual and by and large, left him to it.
The Captain gave up looking for him after the first couple of days, choosing to busy himself with literature from it's vast library - even resorting to spring cleaning when the whim took him. The Doctor emerged every so often - regarding Jack each time with little more than a forced 'hello' - and every time he saw him, he seemed to fade a little more. The manic grin had long since left him, he was getting thinner (if that was possible) and that mischevious glimmer in his eye had all but vanished. He wondered if at this point, now The Doctor really was the last Timelord, something inside him had finally just snapped and had decided to end it.
Jack really hoped not, because he didn't remember any point of the contract which said that he had to sit around with him, waiting for the collapsing universe to swallow them up. Not to mention the fact that he didn't even know if the end of the universe would even be enough to kill him - and that prospect was terrifying. Sitting in the dark waiting for everything to spark back into life, as it eventually would. He was sure he'd go mad.
He rubbed his eyes tiredly and sat up. There wasn't much chance of him sleeping, so there was little point trying to force it. He ran a hand through his hair and smiled fondly, imagining Ianto, of all people. If he'd have been at the Hub, Ianto would've been there - coaxing him into trying all kinds of herbal remedies, even a nice cup of horlicks to encourage him to get a night's sleep that he knew would never come. Instead of that, the only comfort around this place was the distant hum of the TARDIS - but he was certain she was working elsewhere, on something far more important than a case of incurable insomnia. He only hoped that whatever she was doing would be enough to pull The Doctor out of the abyss before it was curtains for them all.
He got out of bed and dressed himself - he thought he'd at least try and do something productive, rather than stay in bed waiting for one of several things that weren't very likely to happen any time soon.
The TARDIS was quite an un-nerving place without The Doctor's presence - cold and stark - save for a few rooms tucked away, formerly inhabited by previous companions. He sat amongst them sometimes, talking to the ghosts and wondering wether the fact that that they still existed was down to The Doctor's poor housekeeping and forgetfulness, or wether it just displayed as well as anything else, The Doctor's complete inability to let go of what had passed.
Given recent events, he supposed it was the latter.
He shuffled down the corridor where his room was situated - and hoped for all it was worth that he could remember the route to the kitchen. He yawned into the palm of his hand and stretched his arm, grinning with satisfaction as the joints clicked with a loud crunch. The Doctor always hated it when he did that, but he supposed that seeing he wasn't around to tell him off for it - he could do what he liked.
He just wished he could operate the TARDIS and fly it away from there. He could sense time was running out, and was hugely irritated by the fact that he could do nothing about it.
He kept on walking, telling himself that he knew the kitchen was around there somewhere, when he heard a commotion emanating from one of the doors just down the hallway. Narrowing his eyes, he headed in the direction of the noise - hand poised over the gun handle poking out from the holster around his waist. The likelihood of it being an intruder was extremely slim, but then again - if the Future Kind were still around, he wasn't taking any chances.
The noise got louder, until it reached an apex at a door around a hundred yards down from where he'd first heard it - a loud, clattering din and the unmistakable sound of The Doctor - who appeared to be talking to himself. Jack stared at the door for a moment, and then decided to knock.
'Doctor?'
His eyes widened when The Doctor's head poked out from the doorway - hair standing up at odd angles, and eyes staring from behind his thick glasses. He looked, for want of a better description, like a textbook mad scientist.
'Jack!' The Doctor barked, almost unintentionally. 'I've cracked it.'
'Cracked it?' Jack questioned, narrowing his eyes. 'Cracked what, exactly?'
'The Master.' He nodded. 'I can bring him back - force a regeneration. It's a long shot, because he's pretty far gone but I'm sure I can-'
'Oh, god.' The Captain winced. 'Are you really sure you want to do that, Doc?'
Ask a stupid question..
'Of course.' The Doctor replied, matter-of-fact. 'Why wouldn't I?'
'Well, the fact that he's the Timelord equivalent of Johnny the Homicidal Maniac would be a good starting point.' Jack deadpanned. 'Or maybe we could start with the fact that he pretty much decimated Earth without so much as a second thought, perhaps? Tortured Martha's family. Tortured me. I mean, I could go on if you want-'
'It doesn't matter.' The Doctor said, a crazed glint in his eye. 'None of it matters. We're the only ones left, Jack. I can't just let him go like that.'
'Even if it's at the expense of the rest of us?'
'Oh, will you just shut up?' The Doctor snapped angrily. 'Don't start preaching to me, Jack. That's not why I brought you here.'
'Is that so? So, come on - enlighten me. Why exactly did you bring me here? Just to leave me hanging around with all of the other fucking ghosts in this place so you can spend all your time in here like Doctor fuckin' Frankenstein - trying to stitch your dead boyfriend together.'
Jack bit his tongue as soon as the words had left his lips. Maybe the silence was getting to him - but he had to make the Doctor see that he was fighting a losing battle, before he found out the hard way, or the universe caved in on them - whichever came first.
'Look, I'm sorry. That was uncalled for.' He frowned, noting the way the silent Doctor's eyes were simmering with barely contained rage. 'I'm just - I'm worried about you, Doc. You've been shut away in there for too damn long - it's affecting your judgement. I know you're desperate to change what's happened but The Master is a dangerous individual - bringing him back would only make things worse.'
'You don't know anything, Jack.' The Doctor spat, his anger finally boiling over. 'This is something you couldn't ever possibly understand. You want to know why you're here?'
'Because I wouldn't let you come here alone.'
'Why, because you didn't trust me? Because you thought I'd travel here and do myself in - I mean, I'm clearly one of those ridiculous bleeding-hearts drama queens that would do something like that, aren't I?' The Doctor raved, his voice dripping with venom. 'That's your pathetic, romanticised version of me, isn't it, Jack? A damsel in distress that you can kiss better - we all live happily ever after for all eternity, don't we Jack?'
'Oh, bullshit.' Jack scoffed. 'Get over yourself, Doc. I know life doesn't work like that as well as you do. I'm perfectly entitled to show some concern when a dear friend appears to be losing their fucking mind!'
The Doctor's expression darkened, and he leaned against the doorframe. He peered over his glasses with hooded, sleep-starved eyes and said darkly;
'The only reason you're even here - is because you wouldn't let me go. You had to start chasing after me, like some pathetic, dried up old groupie trying to hang on to my coat-tails.' He paused, to glance over his shoulder. 'You repulse me, Jack - I've tried to get over it but I can't. Every fibre of my being tries to claw away from you whenever you're near. Now, I don't know what childish fantasy you have in your head - of me and you spending the rest of our lives together - but there is only one, and only ever will be one who I could do that with - and it certainly isn't you.'
Jack stared at The Doctor, mouth agape. Ordinarily he was sure he could come up with something witty to respond, or put The Doctor's spiteful rant down to the fact that he was in mourning - but his remarks hit a little too close to home. In the back of his mind, he knew The Doctor felt a little uncomfortable in his presence - but the closeness and quiet moments they had shared during the Year That Never Was had convinced him that he'd managed to get over any issues he may have had.
He must've been mistaken.
Jack nodded - taking a fair few moments to gather himself before pushing the words out through the sick feeling that rose from his gut.
'I'll leave you to it.'
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Hours passed, and after the inital, tearful fit following the Doctor's outburst, Jack sat alone in the library - idly flicking through books and resolutely not dwelling on what he had said - brushing off the remarks with a snarled 'Screw You' when The Doctor was safely ensconced back in the apparent tomb that he'd built around himself and The Master's body. He pondered what might happen if he actually did manage to ressurect The Master - wether he'd persuade The Doctor to keep him around seeing as he enjoyed having him as a human, un-killable plaything for a year - or wether he'd just be dumped back in Cardiff, discarded when his purpose was served. Quietly, he really hoped it was the latter - There were some things over the year that he suffered at The Master's hands, that he had absolutely no desire to re-live.
The library door creaked as it opened, and Jack held his breath - half expecting The Doctor to emerge triumphantly, like a kid who'd just created his first fingerpainting.
Look what I did. Aren't you proud?
He exhaled when The Doctor entered alone, his suit rumpled and clearly in need of a good iron. He regarded the Doctor with nonchalance and then returned to the book he was reading. The ancient history of the M'kaalu Colonies really didn't interest him all that much, but it was certainly better than looking at him. He really wished he could summon up the energy to give The Doctor a smack in the jaw for the things that he said, things that were deliberately aimed to cause maximum hurt - but for one thing, he was far too tired and really, he didn't know if it'd make him feel any better, anyway.
'Did it work?' He asked flatly, not looking up from the book.
'No!' He said, a strange tone in his voice.
Jack hadn't got any intention of looking up, but there was something in the way The Doctor said that, that made him do it anyway.
Was he smiling?
Jack tilted his head, and The Doctor paced the floor in front of the table, fidgeting and buzzing with energy. There was something in The Doctor's mannerisms that un-nerved him deeply. There was a huge grin on his face, but the expression in his eyes was as blank as the sky at the end of the universe. He wondered if this was finally the straw that broke the camel's back.
'What are you going to do?' He asked cautiously.
'Oh, well-' He beamed vacantly. 'How about me and you make the most of our time here at the end of the Universe, huh? Wait for the whole thing to come in on us. It'll be fucking spectacular. What do you say?'
'I'd say you were out of your mind.' Jack said, annoyed. 'I don't think you want to die in this place any more than I do.'
'Oh, but it'd be romantic, Jack! Isn't that what you want?' He cried, gesticulating wildly. 'Think about it. We can just skip all of the relationship bit and skip straight to the death-by-universe bit - fantastic!'
'What the hell is wrong with you?' Jack finally snapped, standing up and glaring at The Doctor over the table. 'Something isn't right with you, Doctor - and I don't like it one bit.'
'Tough!' The Doctor yelled back. 'This is me now, and if you don't like it - frankly - I don't bloody well care! I don't have time to care. Bring on the end of the universe, I say. I'm gonna kick back, have a nice cup of tea, and wait for the moment when all of this nonsense stops.'
Jack glared angrily at The Doctor, before his gaze was drawn to a patch on The Doctor's neck. An almost clear piece of plastic glinted in the light, stuck to the skin like a nicotine patch.
'What's that?'
'None of your business.' The Doctor smirked.
Jack couldn't take it any more. He flew around the side of the table and launched himself at The Doctor, shoving him up against the metal wall.
'Alright, Doctor - I've gone along with this as far as I can, okay? You're not of sound mind, and I will commandeer this ship if I have to.' He growled, before forcing The Doctor to tilt his head. 'And you'll tell me what this goddamn thing is right now!'
The Doctor laughed. He laughed so hard that his ribs ached and the near-hysterical giggles echoed off the walls.
'Is it drugs?' Jack pressed, shaking The Doctor's shoulders. 'Tell me!'
'Oh, what - are you my dad, now?' The Doctor snorted. 'What business is it of yours?'
'It's my business, because you're trying to force me to stay here - and I don't think you'd be trying to do that if you had a straight head on your shoulders.' He sighed, frustrated. 'And I don't think you really want this.'
'And what do you think I want, Jackie boy?' The Doctor drawled, sniggering and raising a hand to Jack's cheek. He leaned in closer, his lips hovering over the other man's as he almost-whispered. 'Is it this?'
The Doctor smirked, eyes barely millimeters from Jack's as he continued to taunt him - his body swaying slightly with the effects of what he appeared to have taken. Jack's eyes narrowed and he reached up - ripping the patch from The Doctor's skin. The noise it made was enough to make Jack wince and The Doctor let out an unearthly yelp of pain - his hand covering it as a slight trace of blood travelled down his neck.
'You - You stupid bloody idiot!' He growled, stepping back from Jack. 'What the hell did you do that for?'
'Because it's sending you crazy! What are these things?'
The Doctor frowned, slumping slightly against the wall and rubbing a hand through his hair.
'Mood altering patches.' He said flatly. 'I picked up a few on New Earth the last time I was there - for emergencies.'
'How long have you been using them for?'
'Not long.' The Doctor said sheepishly, turning his head and studying a dark patch on the red carpet. 'Just when it gets too much.'
Jack sighed softly and perched on the edge of the table, watching The Doctor examine his fingernails and look around every inch of the room to avoid looking directly at him. He'd been displaying signs of addiction for quite some time, and Jack hadn't even noticed - because he never thought the Doctor would even consider succumbing to something like that, for a start.
'Please.' The Doctor said softly. 'I need that back. It's the last one. It'll see me through, until-'
'Until what? The end of the Universe?' Jack said sarcastically. 'Doctor - after everything you've done, do you really want to end it like this? I get the impression that you Gallifreyans have self-destructive tendencies - but just laying back and waiting for the end to come? Come on - that's not your style at all.'
The Doctor winced, the pounding in his head returning - He'd tried to stop using the patches long before now, not that he would say - but the symptoms felt a hell of a lot worse than the cause. He walked, dizzily to a chair - sitting down and letting out a long, slow breath.
'I can help you.' Jack said softly as The Doctor slouched against the table, pinching the bridge of his nose.
'Maybe, Jack.' The Doctor said sharply. 'Maybe, I don't want your bloody help! Maybe I've just had enough?'
'Don't say that.' Jack frowned, disbelieving.
'It's true.' He replied, rubbing his forehead to try and alleviate the brain cramps that the absence of the patches caused. 'Jack, please. You - I know you mean well but after all of this, I just think - It's time for me to go.'
'What, and it's my time to go, too? Do I not get a say in the matter?'
'Oh, come on, Jack.' The Doctor scolded, gritting his teeth as the throbbing increased. 'You want a permanent way to die? This is it.'
'I told you - I changed my mind!' Jack cried, kneeling down beside The Doctor's chair. 'I don't want to die, Doctor - Not like this! And what if I don't?'
That made The Doctor look up from behind his hands - just about able to make out Jack's form through terribly blurred vision.
'Have you ever thought of that? I might have to watch you die - the one goddamn person that I thought might be a constant through the majority of my life - and then what? Stuck alone, in the darkness for thousands, maybe millions of years until the universe decides to reform.' He said softly, shaking his head. 'Despite what you think of what I am - do you really want to sentence me to that, Doctor? Do I disgust you that much that you'd do that to me?'
'Jack..' The Doctor whispered, a slight tremor in his voice. The Captain studied his features and hoped that he might've found the chink in his armor that he had been looking for - a way to convince him to change his mind.
'Alright, so it might happen eventually.' He sighed, rolling his eyes. 'But please - I'm begging you to at least give me enough time to get used to the idea.'
The Doctor just nodded, and they sat in a choking silence for a good few moments before he finally summoned the ability to respond.
'I - I just,' The Doctor began to explain. 'Jack - When The Master came back, it woke up a part of my brain that I'd not used in so long. Not since the end of the Time War.'
The Captain just nodded, shifting up onto a chair beside The Doctor. He'd finally found a way to get him to talk, and he certainly wasn't about to ruin it by opening his big mouth, now.
'I know what The Master did was inexcusable, but - for the first time in years, I actually felt alive. I felt connected to Gallifrey again through him.' He paused, sniffing slightly. 'And now that he's gone - there's nothing. The part of my mind is awake and it's constantly grasping out to find him, and there's nothing there.'
'And how does that make you feel?' Jack asked in all honestly, really trying hard not to sound like some kind of shrink.
The Doctor took a deep breath, thinking about it for a moment before looking back up at Jack.
'I - I feel angry. Angry that he wouldn't even do me the courtesy of trying to stay alive.' He nodded, swallowing hard before continuing. 'And more than that - more than anything else - I just feel so very empty. Empty, and utterly alone. And the thing that's the hardest part to take, is that I know that it's never going to go away.'
Jack nodded, reaching out to give The Doctor's arm a reassuring squeeze.
'I really am the last now, aren't I?' He said somberly, his eyes becoming glassy. 'There's no chance of anyone else coming along to make me feel like that again - and I don't think I can handle it.'
'Doctor.' Jack sighed sympathetically.
The Doctor's head dropped and he reached up to scrub his eye with his sleeve. Jack wondered just quite how this incarnation of him, at 900-years old, could manage to look so much like a lonely little boy. Frightened, and alone. Maybe Jack empathised so much because he felt exactly the same way. Sometimes, it was the most exciting thing in the world but for the most part - not knowing what's just around the corner was fucking terrifying.
'Jack, I'm scared.' He blurted, before he even had chance to hold it back. 'I don't expect you to - to understand, or have any kind of sympathy for me after those terrible things I said to you before, but I am. I'm scared, and I am so, so sorry.'
The Captain nodded, and reached up to cup The Doctor's face gently.
'It's okay.'
'It's - It's not.' The Doctor stammered, wincing. 'It's not, and - and my head - Jack, I - I..'
He trailed off, his face crumpling with pain. Jack sighed, gently tugging him into a comforting hug. He ran a hand along The Doctor's shuddering back, and the Timelord let out a quiet, restrained sob into his shirt. The Captain could do little more than let him rest there, murmuring soothing words against his temple as the restraint gave way to gasping, unrelenting cries. He knew this had to happen - he had to get this out before he could try and put him back together - if he'd let him.
'Doctor, let me help you.'
The Doctor let out a quiet noise of agreement and slid his arms around Jack's waist - finally letting the grief he'd kept back with the patches and sheer, determined avoidance flood from his body, safe in the knowledge that there was someone there, despite all he'd done to push him away, to stop him falling too far.
The arms around him tightened, and he curled further into the embrace - sitting in silence for what seemed like an eternity before whispering softly against Jack's neck.
'Thank you.'
Author: Miss M
Prompt used: Spoilerrific, under cut
Pairing: Ten/Jack (obv.)
Rating: R (For language, more than anything.)
Spoilers/warnings: Angst, hurt/comfort, The Doctor acting *really* irrationally. Spoilers for Doctor Who Series 3, and mild ones for Torchwood Series 1
Summary: Jack and The Doctor are at the end of the universe again, and The Doctor is behaving strangely. Jack tries to put it right before it's too late for both of them.
A/N: Okay, so here is my prompt. I hope this isn't too late. D:
Grieving over the Master, Jack takes it upon himself to comfort him, but the Doctor doesn't want comfort he want's to be left alone, how will Jack get through to him? Also The Doctor says something horrible to Jack which really hurts him.
'Regenerate. Just regenerate.'
The Doctor kept repeating, face obscured as it pressed into The Master's shoulder. He'd been dead for a good while - but Jack remained rooted to the spot. To edge any closer, he felt, would be to intrude on a very private moment of grief - even if it was in a room full of startled onlookers. Martha glanced over to him, eyes pleading as she clutched onto her shell-shocked mother. She had her own problems to deal with, now, so The Doctor became Jack's problem alone.
He walked, cautiously, towards The Doctor - gently kneeling down beside him and pressing a hand to his shoulder.
'Doctor-'
The Last of the Timelords looked up, sharply - cheeks splattered with red blotches and fresh saline still shining on the surface. He nodded wordlessly and placed The Master back down on the floor. Jack's hand snapped away, sensing an overwhelming order to back off - without The Doctor needing to say a word. The slender figure rose to his feet, dusting down his pin-striped trousers and swiping a blase hand over his face.
'Doctor.'
Jack repeated - a request for attention that was duly ignored. The Doctor turned to one of the Valiant's security team, jabbing a bony finger in his direction.
'I want this body secured and wrapped for transport - now.'
'Sir, I'm afraid I can't allow that. Harold Saxon was responsible for the death of the President of the USA. The authoriti-'
'I don't care what the authorities want.' He growled, teeth gritted as he craned his neck forward. 'That body belongs to me, and-'
'Officer.' Jack interrupted, stepping forward and producing his battered Torchwood ID card from his trouser pocket. 'Torchwood. We'll be in charge of this investigation from now on, and I'd like you to do as The Doctor says, alright?'
Jack stepped forward, in close quarters with the bewildered security man.
'I want that body prepped for transport in half an hour, okay? Get whoever you need on the job, and-' He paused, glancing over his shoulder. 'I know, how you might be feeling right now - and believe me, I feel the same way - but I'll ask you nicely to treat him with respect, alright? Some of us aren't quite as happy to see him go.'
The security guard glanced over at The Doctor, pacing back and forth frustratedly - hand knotted in messy spikes of hair - and he nodded.
'As you wish, Sir. Like you say,' He frowned. 'I'll be glad to see him go, regardless of the method.'
'Good man.' Jack half smiled, offering a reassuring tap on the shoulder.
The security man saluted, and walked away - calling for fellow officers to assist with the preparation of The Master's corpse.
'All sorted.' Jack nodded, getting a muttered 'thanks' from The Doctor for his trouble. 'We could - go and get The TARDIS ready? Maybe take Martha and her family away? I don't think anyone really needs to see this.'
He didn't wait for a response, assisting Martha in removing her family from the room. He heard a soft beckon from behind him and he turned back as Martha, her mother, father and Tish left the room. The Doctor was staring at him with a cold look of detachment in his eyes. He shook his head and spoke quietly, as the security officers returned with an opaque, plastic body-bag.
'I do.'
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Jack stared up at the ceiling and let out a sigh, wondering how he always managed to get into situations like this. Restlessly, he turned on his side, tugging the rumpled sheets around his shoulders. They'd been in the year one-hundred trillion for what must have been weeks, now - and The Doctor showed no signs of wanting to leave any time soon. He'd left Jack pretty much alone on The TARDIS - hidden himself deep within the catacombs with The Master's body. If he hadn't known better he'd have thought that kind of behaviour to be rather odd, but he assumed it was part of some kind of Timelord death ritual and by and large, left him to it.
The Captain gave up looking for him after the first couple of days, choosing to busy himself with literature from it's vast library - even resorting to spring cleaning when the whim took him. The Doctor emerged every so often - regarding Jack each time with little more than a forced 'hello' - and every time he saw him, he seemed to fade a little more. The manic grin had long since left him, he was getting thinner (if that was possible) and that mischevious glimmer in his eye had all but vanished. He wondered if at this point, now The Doctor really was the last Timelord, something inside him had finally just snapped and had decided to end it.
Jack really hoped not, because he didn't remember any point of the contract which said that he had to sit around with him, waiting for the collapsing universe to swallow them up. Not to mention the fact that he didn't even know if the end of the universe would even be enough to kill him - and that prospect was terrifying. Sitting in the dark waiting for everything to spark back into life, as it eventually would. He was sure he'd go mad.
He rubbed his eyes tiredly and sat up. There wasn't much chance of him sleeping, so there was little point trying to force it. He ran a hand through his hair and smiled fondly, imagining Ianto, of all people. If he'd have been at the Hub, Ianto would've been there - coaxing him into trying all kinds of herbal remedies, even a nice cup of horlicks to encourage him to get a night's sleep that he knew would never come. Instead of that, the only comfort around this place was the distant hum of the TARDIS - but he was certain she was working elsewhere, on something far more important than a case of incurable insomnia. He only hoped that whatever she was doing would be enough to pull The Doctor out of the abyss before it was curtains for them all.
He got out of bed and dressed himself - he thought he'd at least try and do something productive, rather than stay in bed waiting for one of several things that weren't very likely to happen any time soon.
The TARDIS was quite an un-nerving place without The Doctor's presence - cold and stark - save for a few rooms tucked away, formerly inhabited by previous companions. He sat amongst them sometimes, talking to the ghosts and wondering wether the fact that that they still existed was down to The Doctor's poor housekeeping and forgetfulness, or wether it just displayed as well as anything else, The Doctor's complete inability to let go of what had passed.
Given recent events, he supposed it was the latter.
He shuffled down the corridor where his room was situated - and hoped for all it was worth that he could remember the route to the kitchen. He yawned into the palm of his hand and stretched his arm, grinning with satisfaction as the joints clicked with a loud crunch. The Doctor always hated it when he did that, but he supposed that seeing he wasn't around to tell him off for it - he could do what he liked.
He just wished he could operate the TARDIS and fly it away from there. He could sense time was running out, and was hugely irritated by the fact that he could do nothing about it.
He kept on walking, telling himself that he knew the kitchen was around there somewhere, when he heard a commotion emanating from one of the doors just down the hallway. Narrowing his eyes, he headed in the direction of the noise - hand poised over the gun handle poking out from the holster around his waist. The likelihood of it being an intruder was extremely slim, but then again - if the Future Kind were still around, he wasn't taking any chances.
The noise got louder, until it reached an apex at a door around a hundred yards down from where he'd first heard it - a loud, clattering din and the unmistakable sound of The Doctor - who appeared to be talking to himself. Jack stared at the door for a moment, and then decided to knock.
'Doctor?'
His eyes widened when The Doctor's head poked out from the doorway - hair standing up at odd angles, and eyes staring from behind his thick glasses. He looked, for want of a better description, like a textbook mad scientist.
'Jack!' The Doctor barked, almost unintentionally. 'I've cracked it.'
'Cracked it?' Jack questioned, narrowing his eyes. 'Cracked what, exactly?'
'The Master.' He nodded. 'I can bring him back - force a regeneration. It's a long shot, because he's pretty far gone but I'm sure I can-'
'Oh, god.' The Captain winced. 'Are you really sure you want to do that, Doc?'
Ask a stupid question..
'Of course.' The Doctor replied, matter-of-fact. 'Why wouldn't I?'
'Well, the fact that he's the Timelord equivalent of Johnny the Homicidal Maniac would be a good starting point.' Jack deadpanned. 'Or maybe we could start with the fact that he pretty much decimated Earth without so much as a second thought, perhaps? Tortured Martha's family. Tortured me. I mean, I could go on if you want-'
'It doesn't matter.' The Doctor said, a crazed glint in his eye. 'None of it matters. We're the only ones left, Jack. I can't just let him go like that.'
'Even if it's at the expense of the rest of us?'
'Oh, will you just shut up?' The Doctor snapped angrily. 'Don't start preaching to me, Jack. That's not why I brought you here.'
'Is that so? So, come on - enlighten me. Why exactly did you bring me here? Just to leave me hanging around with all of the other fucking ghosts in this place so you can spend all your time in here like Doctor fuckin' Frankenstein - trying to stitch your dead boyfriend together.'
Jack bit his tongue as soon as the words had left his lips. Maybe the silence was getting to him - but he had to make the Doctor see that he was fighting a losing battle, before he found out the hard way, or the universe caved in on them - whichever came first.
'Look, I'm sorry. That was uncalled for.' He frowned, noting the way the silent Doctor's eyes were simmering with barely contained rage. 'I'm just - I'm worried about you, Doc. You've been shut away in there for too damn long - it's affecting your judgement. I know you're desperate to change what's happened but The Master is a dangerous individual - bringing him back would only make things worse.'
'You don't know anything, Jack.' The Doctor spat, his anger finally boiling over. 'This is something you couldn't ever possibly understand. You want to know why you're here?'
'Because I wouldn't let you come here alone.'
'Why, because you didn't trust me? Because you thought I'd travel here and do myself in - I mean, I'm clearly one of those ridiculous bleeding-hearts drama queens that would do something like that, aren't I?' The Doctor raved, his voice dripping with venom. 'That's your pathetic, romanticised version of me, isn't it, Jack? A damsel in distress that you can kiss better - we all live happily ever after for all eternity, don't we Jack?'
'Oh, bullshit.' Jack scoffed. 'Get over yourself, Doc. I know life doesn't work like that as well as you do. I'm perfectly entitled to show some concern when a dear friend appears to be losing their fucking mind!'
The Doctor's expression darkened, and he leaned against the doorframe. He peered over his glasses with hooded, sleep-starved eyes and said darkly;
'The only reason you're even here - is because you wouldn't let me go. You had to start chasing after me, like some pathetic, dried up old groupie trying to hang on to my coat-tails.' He paused, to glance over his shoulder. 'You repulse me, Jack - I've tried to get over it but I can't. Every fibre of my being tries to claw away from you whenever you're near. Now, I don't know what childish fantasy you have in your head - of me and you spending the rest of our lives together - but there is only one, and only ever will be one who I could do that with - and it certainly isn't you.'
Jack stared at The Doctor, mouth agape. Ordinarily he was sure he could come up with something witty to respond, or put The Doctor's spiteful rant down to the fact that he was in mourning - but his remarks hit a little too close to home. In the back of his mind, he knew The Doctor felt a little uncomfortable in his presence - but the closeness and quiet moments they had shared during the Year That Never Was had convinced him that he'd managed to get over any issues he may have had.
He must've been mistaken.
Jack nodded - taking a fair few moments to gather himself before pushing the words out through the sick feeling that rose from his gut.
'I'll leave you to it.'
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Hours passed, and after the inital, tearful fit following the Doctor's outburst, Jack sat alone in the library - idly flicking through books and resolutely not dwelling on what he had said - brushing off the remarks with a snarled 'Screw You' when The Doctor was safely ensconced back in the apparent tomb that he'd built around himself and The Master's body. He pondered what might happen if he actually did manage to ressurect The Master - wether he'd persuade The Doctor to keep him around seeing as he enjoyed having him as a human, un-killable plaything for a year - or wether he'd just be dumped back in Cardiff, discarded when his purpose was served. Quietly, he really hoped it was the latter - There were some things over the year that he suffered at The Master's hands, that he had absolutely no desire to re-live.
The library door creaked as it opened, and Jack held his breath - half expecting The Doctor to emerge triumphantly, like a kid who'd just created his first fingerpainting.
Look what I did. Aren't you proud?
He exhaled when The Doctor entered alone, his suit rumpled and clearly in need of a good iron. He regarded the Doctor with nonchalance and then returned to the book he was reading. The ancient history of the M'kaalu Colonies really didn't interest him all that much, but it was certainly better than looking at him. He really wished he could summon up the energy to give The Doctor a smack in the jaw for the things that he said, things that were deliberately aimed to cause maximum hurt - but for one thing, he was far too tired and really, he didn't know if it'd make him feel any better, anyway.
'Did it work?' He asked flatly, not looking up from the book.
'No!' He said, a strange tone in his voice.
Jack hadn't got any intention of looking up, but there was something in the way The Doctor said that, that made him do it anyway.
Was he smiling?
Jack tilted his head, and The Doctor paced the floor in front of the table, fidgeting and buzzing with energy. There was something in The Doctor's mannerisms that un-nerved him deeply. There was a huge grin on his face, but the expression in his eyes was as blank as the sky at the end of the universe. He wondered if this was finally the straw that broke the camel's back.
'What are you going to do?' He asked cautiously.
'Oh, well-' He beamed vacantly. 'How about me and you make the most of our time here at the end of the Universe, huh? Wait for the whole thing to come in on us. It'll be fucking spectacular. What do you say?'
'I'd say you were out of your mind.' Jack said, annoyed. 'I don't think you want to die in this place any more than I do.'
'Oh, but it'd be romantic, Jack! Isn't that what you want?' He cried, gesticulating wildly. 'Think about it. We can just skip all of the relationship bit and skip straight to the death-by-universe bit - fantastic!'
'What the hell is wrong with you?' Jack finally snapped, standing up and glaring at The Doctor over the table. 'Something isn't right with you, Doctor - and I don't like it one bit.'
'Tough!' The Doctor yelled back. 'This is me now, and if you don't like it - frankly - I don't bloody well care! I don't have time to care. Bring on the end of the universe, I say. I'm gonna kick back, have a nice cup of tea, and wait for the moment when all of this nonsense stops.'
Jack glared angrily at The Doctor, before his gaze was drawn to a patch on The Doctor's neck. An almost clear piece of plastic glinted in the light, stuck to the skin like a nicotine patch.
'What's that?'
'None of your business.' The Doctor smirked.
Jack couldn't take it any more. He flew around the side of the table and launched himself at The Doctor, shoving him up against the metal wall.
'Alright, Doctor - I've gone along with this as far as I can, okay? You're not of sound mind, and I will commandeer this ship if I have to.' He growled, before forcing The Doctor to tilt his head. 'And you'll tell me what this goddamn thing is right now!'
The Doctor laughed. He laughed so hard that his ribs ached and the near-hysterical giggles echoed off the walls.
'Is it drugs?' Jack pressed, shaking The Doctor's shoulders. 'Tell me!'
'Oh, what - are you my dad, now?' The Doctor snorted. 'What business is it of yours?'
'It's my business, because you're trying to force me to stay here - and I don't think you'd be trying to do that if you had a straight head on your shoulders.' He sighed, frustrated. 'And I don't think you really want this.'
'And what do you think I want, Jackie boy?' The Doctor drawled, sniggering and raising a hand to Jack's cheek. He leaned in closer, his lips hovering over the other man's as he almost-whispered. 'Is it this?'
The Doctor smirked, eyes barely millimeters from Jack's as he continued to taunt him - his body swaying slightly with the effects of what he appeared to have taken. Jack's eyes narrowed and he reached up - ripping the patch from The Doctor's skin. The noise it made was enough to make Jack wince and The Doctor let out an unearthly yelp of pain - his hand covering it as a slight trace of blood travelled down his neck.
'You - You stupid bloody idiot!' He growled, stepping back from Jack. 'What the hell did you do that for?'
'Because it's sending you crazy! What are these things?'
The Doctor frowned, slumping slightly against the wall and rubbing a hand through his hair.
'Mood altering patches.' He said flatly. 'I picked up a few on New Earth the last time I was there - for emergencies.'
'How long have you been using them for?'
'Not long.' The Doctor said sheepishly, turning his head and studying a dark patch on the red carpet. 'Just when it gets too much.'
Jack sighed softly and perched on the edge of the table, watching The Doctor examine his fingernails and look around every inch of the room to avoid looking directly at him. He'd been displaying signs of addiction for quite some time, and Jack hadn't even noticed - because he never thought the Doctor would even consider succumbing to something like that, for a start.
'Please.' The Doctor said softly. 'I need that back. It's the last one. It'll see me through, until-'
'Until what? The end of the Universe?' Jack said sarcastically. 'Doctor - after everything you've done, do you really want to end it like this? I get the impression that you Gallifreyans have self-destructive tendencies - but just laying back and waiting for the end to come? Come on - that's not your style at all.'
The Doctor winced, the pounding in his head returning - He'd tried to stop using the patches long before now, not that he would say - but the symptoms felt a hell of a lot worse than the cause. He walked, dizzily to a chair - sitting down and letting out a long, slow breath.
'I can help you.' Jack said softly as The Doctor slouched against the table, pinching the bridge of his nose.
'Maybe, Jack.' The Doctor said sharply. 'Maybe, I don't want your bloody help! Maybe I've just had enough?'
'Don't say that.' Jack frowned, disbelieving.
'It's true.' He replied, rubbing his forehead to try and alleviate the brain cramps that the absence of the patches caused. 'Jack, please. You - I know you mean well but after all of this, I just think - It's time for me to go.'
'What, and it's my time to go, too? Do I not get a say in the matter?'
'Oh, come on, Jack.' The Doctor scolded, gritting his teeth as the throbbing increased. 'You want a permanent way to die? This is it.'
'I told you - I changed my mind!' Jack cried, kneeling down beside The Doctor's chair. 'I don't want to die, Doctor - Not like this! And what if I don't?'
That made The Doctor look up from behind his hands - just about able to make out Jack's form through terribly blurred vision.
'Have you ever thought of that? I might have to watch you die - the one goddamn person that I thought might be a constant through the majority of my life - and then what? Stuck alone, in the darkness for thousands, maybe millions of years until the universe decides to reform.' He said softly, shaking his head. 'Despite what you think of what I am - do you really want to sentence me to that, Doctor? Do I disgust you that much that you'd do that to me?'
'Jack..' The Doctor whispered, a slight tremor in his voice. The Captain studied his features and hoped that he might've found the chink in his armor that he had been looking for - a way to convince him to change his mind.
'Alright, so it might happen eventually.' He sighed, rolling his eyes. 'But please - I'm begging you to at least give me enough time to get used to the idea.'
The Doctor just nodded, and they sat in a choking silence for a good few moments before he finally summoned the ability to respond.
'I - I just,' The Doctor began to explain. 'Jack - When The Master came back, it woke up a part of my brain that I'd not used in so long. Not since the end of the Time War.'
The Captain just nodded, shifting up onto a chair beside The Doctor. He'd finally found a way to get him to talk, and he certainly wasn't about to ruin it by opening his big mouth, now.
'I know what The Master did was inexcusable, but - for the first time in years, I actually felt alive. I felt connected to Gallifrey again through him.' He paused, sniffing slightly. 'And now that he's gone - there's nothing. The part of my mind is awake and it's constantly grasping out to find him, and there's nothing there.'
'And how does that make you feel?' Jack asked in all honestly, really trying hard not to sound like some kind of shrink.
The Doctor took a deep breath, thinking about it for a moment before looking back up at Jack.
'I - I feel angry. Angry that he wouldn't even do me the courtesy of trying to stay alive.' He nodded, swallowing hard before continuing. 'And more than that - more than anything else - I just feel so very empty. Empty, and utterly alone. And the thing that's the hardest part to take, is that I know that it's never going to go away.'
Jack nodded, reaching out to give The Doctor's arm a reassuring squeeze.
'I really am the last now, aren't I?' He said somberly, his eyes becoming glassy. 'There's no chance of anyone else coming along to make me feel like that again - and I don't think I can handle it.'
'Doctor.' Jack sighed sympathetically.
The Doctor's head dropped and he reached up to scrub his eye with his sleeve. Jack wondered just quite how this incarnation of him, at 900-years old, could manage to look so much like a lonely little boy. Frightened, and alone. Maybe Jack empathised so much because he felt exactly the same way. Sometimes, it was the most exciting thing in the world but for the most part - not knowing what's just around the corner was fucking terrifying.
'Jack, I'm scared.' He blurted, before he even had chance to hold it back. 'I don't expect you to - to understand, or have any kind of sympathy for me after those terrible things I said to you before, but I am. I'm scared, and I am so, so sorry.'
The Captain nodded, and reached up to cup The Doctor's face gently.
'It's okay.'
'It's - It's not.' The Doctor stammered, wincing. 'It's not, and - and my head - Jack, I - I..'
He trailed off, his face crumpling with pain. Jack sighed, gently tugging him into a comforting hug. He ran a hand along The Doctor's shuddering back, and the Timelord let out a quiet, restrained sob into his shirt. The Captain could do little more than let him rest there, murmuring soothing words against his temple as the restraint gave way to gasping, unrelenting cries. He knew this had to happen - he had to get this out before he could try and put him back together - if he'd let him.
'Doctor, let me help you.'
The Doctor let out a quiet noise of agreement and slid his arms around Jack's waist - finally letting the grief he'd kept back with the patches and sheer, determined avoidance flood from his body, safe in the knowledge that there was someone there, despite all he'd done to push him away, to stop him falling too far.
The arms around him tightened, and he curled further into the embrace - sitting in silence for what seemed like an eternity before whispering softly against Jack's neck.
'Thank you.'
no subject
This was so perfect, so beautifully poignant it made me cry.
Wonderful, absolutely wonderful.
I don't suppose you'd consider writing a lighter-hearted sequel of sorts where the Doctor, er, *thanks* Jack?
Pretty please?
*is hopeful*
'Cos I really adore your writing. :)
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
This is completely amazing.
and in a sick, awful way, I LOVED the awful things they say to each other. Especially Jacks line about the Master being the Doctors "dead boyfriend". Loved it!
no subject
no subject
That is really good. I love that. Brilliant.
no subject