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wintercompanion2012-07-19 04:53 pm
trobadora) wrote in wintercompanion2012-07-19 04:53 pm
firefly124: Where We Start From (Eleven/Jack) [Teen] - SUMMER HOLIDAYS, PROMPT 10
Title: Where We Start From
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
firefly124
Pairing: Eleven/Jack
Rating: Teen
Spoilers/warnings: Spoilers through all of Season 6 and the “Last Night” minisode for Doctor Who and a minor one from Miracle Day for Torchwood. Warning for character death.
A/N: Thanks go out toinkvoices for beta-reading, Brit-picking, and general cheerleading; AzSage (not on LJ) for the brainstorming and slash-beta; and to ubiquirk for brainstorming and idea-bouncing.
Summary: What we call the beginning is often the end. And to make an end is to make a beginning. The end is where we start from
Prompt: Petdyth; Pre-Proto-Pseudo-Jurassic; Teeth Gate; forests
What we call the beginning is often the end. And to make an end is to make a beginning. The end is where we start from. – T.S. Eliot
Quoted by Captain Jack Harkness more often than he cares to remember.
It had been decades since Jack had last set foot in this bar, and he'd never planned on coming back. Just like back then, however, he'd wound up working for passage on a sublight cruiser that docked at this station for repairs and refueling. Just like then, there wasn't much else to do other than wander around the station shops, which he had actually done this time, or have a drink or two, which he was next on his to-do list.
At least, that's what he'd planned on doing before he recognized one of the only other humanoids in the room, staring into a glass of hideously pink … something. Brown hair flopped over the eyes, the bow tie was barely visible due to the slumped posture, and the jacket looked like it had seen better days a century or so ago, but it was still clearly the Doctor. Jack felt a wave of déjà vu coupled with an odd sort of vertigo. When the Doctor looked up, it was clear that it had been far longer for him since their last meeting than it had been for Jack, who'd never seen him look so old, not in this regeneration nor even wearing his next face.
Jack circled the bar and took the stool next to the Doctor.
“It's been awhile,” he said neutrally, resting his elbows on the bar.
“Lifetimes,” the Doctor replied.
Jack added “single word answers” to the number of things that told him something was very wrong with the Doctor. In fact, more than all the rest, this item deserved a mauve flag stuck into it.
“When are you?” Jack asked as he flagged the bartender down for a drink. He tried to remember the last time he'd crossed paths with this version of the Doctor. It was rare that he'd run into him alone, in any case.
“Just back from the Singing Towers of Darillium. Brilliant place. Ever been?”
“Nope. Not sure I want to if this is how it leaves you after. What happened?”
“She'd been begging me for years. Always wanted to see them. I just couldn't do it. Then she sent me a message. Just got an amazing offer for a privately funded expedition to solve an 'impossible mystery.' Couldn't tell her we'd already solved it, of course.” The Doctor took a large gulp of his disgusting-looking drink and muttered, “Spoilers.”
Ah. River.
Oh.
Oh!
“I'm sorry, Doctor.” Jack rested a hand on his shoulder, encouraged when it wasn't shrugged off.
“Me too. Well, obviously.” The Doctor swirled his drink around the glass morosely.
“I'll miss her too.”
It was the sort of thing people said, and it was true, but Jack knew it rang hollow. Jack hadn't known her nearly as well. Still, those few times they had all met up had been memorable. Very memorable. He had even loved her—as if anyone could help it—but unlike the Doctor, he hadn't been in love with her.
The bartender delivered Jack's drink and he raised the glass towards the Doctor, who fumbled a bit as he raised his own, clinking the glasses together too loudly.
“To River,” Jack said.
“To River,” the Doctor echoed.
Jack considered the situation as he savored his hypervodka. Obviously the Doctor had known he'd be here. The role-reversal was too perfect to be anything but planned. The problem was that Jack hadn't exactly arrived with a plan as to how to pull the Doctor out of it. The goal was the same though. Jack was sure he could work it out. He just needed a bit more information.
“How'd you find me?”
The Doctor fished a crumpled bit of plastic-based paper out of a pocket and passed it over. Jack flattened it out and saw his own handwriting giving the spatiotemporal coordinates for … he checked his vortex manipulator … pretty much here and now, with the words, “His name is Jack.”
“Guess I'd better remember to send you this.” Jack smiled wryly at his own sense of irony as he tucked the note away.
“What was I thinking?” the Doctor demanded, suddenly angry. “I knew how it was going to end before it started. Well, that's how it always ends, but you know all about that. But this time I really knew. I'd seen it. I'd bloody been there, Jack, and it hurt enough the first time, but having to send her off to it, knowing how it ends … I should've just stayed clear of her once we'd found her.”
“You loved her, Doctor,” Jack said softly. There was no question of that, even if Jack hadn't seen the way they both looked at each other. Had looked at each other. This little tirade said it loud and clear enough all by itself. “And she loved you. It doesn't work that way.”
“You didn't see the look in her eyes,” the Doctor said, voice breaking on the words. “When she realized I'd known all along. I betrayed her, Jack, just like you, just like Rose, just like all of them.”
“Yeah, because I would've been better off as the rogue Time Agent who snuffed out the human race in the mid-twentieth century.” He slugged back the rest of his hypervodka and came to a decision. “Come on.”
The Doctor was a dead weight as Jack grabbed his arm and pulled him from his barstool.
“Where?”
He didn't sound all that interested in the answer.
“Does it matter?” Jack turned and grinned at him, walking backwards for a few steps and sweeping his free arm out to encompass all the places they could go. “Isn't that half the fun?”
“You don't know where the TARDIS is,” the Doctor said petulantly, though he didn't put up a fight, just let himself be pulled along the corridor. “And I'm not flying her, so we're not going anywhere.”
“You're not the only one River taught a few tricks to.”
Jack was starting to understand why. She might not have known when, but she'd known this day would come and that Jack might be the only good friend the Doctor had left alive. He punched a quick sequence on his wristcomp and it pulled up a schematic with a red line showing the most direct route to the TARDIS.
“Yeah, well … I'm the only one can do the snappy thing,” the Doctor said with a pout.
“You think I've lost my key? Trust me, Doctor, after getting it blown up with me, I've been more careful.”
They turned a corner and there she stood in all her blue glory. Jack opened the compartment he'd got added to his vortex manipulator and fished out his key.
“I know what you're doing, Jack, and it's not that I don't appreciate it.”
Jack ignored him as he opened the door and dragged him through it. The TARDIS hummed a greeting in his mind and Jack ran up to the console, trailing his fingers along the edge.
“Although I don't appreciate you flirting with my ship!”
“She does.” Jack grinned as the panels lit up brightly.
The Doctor mumbled something Jack couldn't quite make out.
“So, where shall it be, girl?” Jack asked as he flipped a lever and cranked a gear, all the while watching the Doctor who was leaning up against a railing, arms crossed and still pouting.
A picture came up on the viewscreen.
Jack raised his eyebrows.
“Seriously?”
“What?” the Doctor demanded.
Jack switched the monitor off. “Never mind. The TARDIS knows what she's doing.”
At least he hoped so. Otherwise this was going to be depressingly awful.
~0~
The landing, when it came, wasn't quite as smooth as River would've managed, Jack thought, but considering they weren't both thrown to the floor he was satisfied. He liked to think she'd have been pleased as well, even though she'd have offered plenty of critique.
The Doctor was still pouting.
“When exactly did she manage to give you driving lessons?”
“Time was not the boss of her, Doctor, and I believe you're the one who told her that.”
The Doctor smiled sadly. “So I did.”
Jack nodded towards the door. “Don't you want to see what's out there?”
With haunted eyes, the Doctor shook his head.
Ah. Jack remembered that feeling well. That didn't mean he was about to give up.
He didn't so much remember feeling the TARDIS shudder after landing. While that probably wasn't good, it gave him something to work with.
“There's probably something interesting out there,” he said teasingly, hiding his worry behind a wide grin.
The TARDIS shook again.
“When did you land us?” the Doctor demanded. “The Great Quake of Vaskyagar?”
The next tremor jolted the door open with, Jack suspected, some help from the ship herself.
“I'm not telling.”
Jack swung an arm across the Doctor's shoulders and dragged him down the ramp.
“I'm sure it's someplace completely boring,” the Doctor said as he shuffled along, not quite resisting but not exactly helping either. An ear-splitting sound roared in at them. “One of your pleasure planets, maybe, where someone's got the bass cranked entirely too loud? Why humans think that actually enhances musical enjoyment is something I've never understood. Now, take a nice, light sound like a pennywhistle or a recorder. Did I ever tell you …?”
The TARDIS shook again, and with a crash, everything went sideways, throwing them both to the floor to fetch up against the central console in a tangled heap which, in other circumstances, could have led somewhere very interesting considering the way the Doctor was strewn across Jack's lap.
Jack gulped.
“Doctor?” he asked. “The TARDIS kept her extrapolator shielding in the remodel, right?”
“Of course she did. What sort of daft question is that?”
The Doctor pushed himself up and incidentally off Jack as well.
Jack pointed wordlessly at the door that was now a skylight.
Above the door a very large, very reptilian foot hovered as if in mid-step.
“A dinosaur?” the Doctor asked incredulously. “You brought us back to … well, I'd have to take a closer look to be sure exactly what period it would be, but at first glance, I'd have to say ...”
Jack caught firm hold of the Doctor's arm as he moved to climb out and take a closer look. Getting the Doctor squished into a pancake was not part of the plan, however sketchy the plan might be. Among other things he was running low on regenerations, and while the next version of him was certainly attractive enough, Jack wasn't in a hurry to lose this one.
The foot made to move, but then stopped again, frozen as if someone had flipped an off switch.
Jack breathed a sigh of relief and released the Doctor's arm, giving up on holding him back, though he kept pace with him crawling up to the door to have a better look.
It wasn't the best angle for meeting a creature that could swallow you in a single gulp and not in the fun way. (Even Jack had some limits.) They were looking up at a foot, a tail, and, well, the rest that would go with that angle. Impressive, but, again, pretty incompatible with humanoid anatomy in any way other than painful death. Jack could barely see the front of the beast. Still, it was unmistakable.
“Tyrannosaurus Rex?” the Doctor demanded as he climbed out and hopped down to the ground. “But why's he stuck like that?”
Jack followed, watching indulgently as the Doctor whipped out his sonic and scanned the beast, his eyes lighting up as he put it all together.
“Oh, you beauty.” The Doctor grinned, then turned to Jack. “Seriously? Petdyth? This was your idea of the perfect place to go?”
Jack swallowed and forced himself not to get lost in those ancient eyes as he answered, “Not me.”
The whine of a hovercraft drew closer and Jack turned almost as quickly as the Doctor to see who was coming. He grinned. This was going to be interesting. The Doctor merely looked dumbstruck.
A short brunette wearing a combination of 20th century Terran and 45th century Erisian safari gear hopped out of the vehicle and strode purposefully towards them. When she drew close enough, Jack noted that her name badge, hanging on a cord just above her smallish but still quite lovely breasts, read “Berlis Rof, Security Officer.”
“What the devil do you two idiots think you're doing?” she demanded. “There are reasons for the fences, you know! What if the sentient-proximity fail-safes hadn't engaged? Looks like your blue box almost got flattened as it is!”
“What?” the Doctor asked. “Oh, right! Fail-safes. Well, that was the point, after all. Testing the fail-safes. Making sure they don't fail to, well, keep people safe.”
He whipped out his psychic paper, and Jack couldn't help mirroring the action. The Doctor wasn't the only one who owned the stuff, after all.
The brunette's anger grew, if anything, even fiercer.
“Robotics Safety? Seriously? You lot are supposed to let us know when you're coming to conduct tests so that we can close down the exhibits.” She waved at the frozen Tyrannosaur. “Rather spoils the effect for the kids to see the big scary monsters shut off. Then we get parents demanding refunds and if enough of that happens, well, you won't have anything to inspect, now, will you?”
Jack turned in place until he spotted the viewing deck floating about half a kilometer away with what appeared to be a wide assortment of species and their offspring. Several of them were waving excitedly.
“They don't seem to mind,” Jack said, waving back at them. He raised his voice to add, “All part of the fun, right, kids?”
Rof huffed in disgust. “Fine. You've run your test. Anything else you'd care to inspect, or shall I just see you back to your … unique transport capsule?”
“Well, if you're offering ...” Jack let his voice trail off suggestively and winked at her.
“Jack,” the Doctor said in an exasperated tone that sounded more amused than annoyed, “I'm fairly certain she meant the facility. Which, yes, I'd love to see more, actually. Can never get enough of robotized dinosaurs, really. Prime era for Petdyth, the Pre-Proto-Pseudo-Jurassic, you know. Much better than the Proto-Pseudo-Jurassic, and the Pseudo-Proto just isn't even worth ...”
“Doctor,” Jack said, “you're babbling. What he means to say, Officer Rof, is that we'd love it if you were to give us the official tour now that we've completed the surprise portion of our inspection.”
“Would I?” the Doctor asked. “Yes, I suppose I would. Only ...”
He waved at the TARDIS.
“Got a hitch on that thing?” Jack asked her.
She just gave an exasperated glare as she turned back to her hovercraft and punched a few buttons. A line of energy extended from the vehicle to the TARDIS, encircling it. As the line grew taut the TARDIS slowly tilted upwards and righted herself.
“Get in already, so I can turn the T-rex back on.”
“Yes, ma'am.” Jack gave her a mock half-salute, taking the Doctor's elbow and guiding him into the hovercraft.
~0~
Robot inspection ought, Jack believed, to be something more enjoyable than hanging about in utilitarian rooms watching them be assembled and serviced. Now, he'd serviced a robot or two in his time, even if he didn't count the ones who'd wanted to remove his face back in his mortal days, and he knew things could get very interesting in that sense. Less so here.
The most interesting thing about the tour, really, was how excited the Doctor got about this or that bit of technology. It helped that Jack had developed an immunity to offense at the side comments about primitive life forms and misdirected innovation. Most of the time he even managed not to rise to the bait. However, the last remark had come while Jack had been contemplating the many alternative uses of the spongy substance being used to create variously-sized dinosaur tongues, so he'd been a bit distracted.
“Hey,” Jack retorted, “at least they didn't do something really stupid like try to clone actual dinosaurs from bits of DNA trapped in amber and then splice them with frog genes.”
That had earned him stares from both the Doctor and Rof. It was their guide who spoke first.
“How did you know about that?” she demanded. “That's classified information, and not something your agency would have clearance for.”
Jack raised his eyebrows. “It was also a late twentieth-century film with a bad premise and worse science.”
The Doctor tugged at his bow tie a bit awkwardly. “Excellent cautionary tale, though, even if some twenty-fifth century idiots did take it for inspiration instead. Really couldn't get them to understand just how foolish of an idea it was. Until, well ...” He shrugged.
“That sounds like a story for another day,” Jack said. “Especially since it's still classified three centuries later.”
Rof stared at them both as if they'd just sprouted tentacles from their ears. To be fair, that would be a bit more believable in the twenty-eighth century than time travel, which hadn't made any progress outside the world of fiction yet, but which the Doctor had just heavily implied having done. She needed distracting, and quickly, or she was going to start asking awkward questions.
Jack brought out his most seductive smile and took a step towards her, stopping in mid-stride as her communicator crackled.
Rof snapped the device from her belt and pressed a switch. “Rof to control. What was that? I didn't catch a word of it.”
Jack couldn't make out any of what was said in the next burst of static either, but apparently Berlis Rof did as she shot the two men a look and turned to sprint away from them, yelling over her shoulder for them to stay where they were. For a second Jack just stared at her. Then he noticed the Doctor was running after her. Jack quickly sprinted to catch up.
“What's going on?” he asked as they ran. “And why does her communicator sound like that? Static interference should be obsolete.”
“So should the brontosaur chomping on the relay station,” the Doctor replied with a grin as he put on another burst of speed.
Well, that answered that, not to mention a question or two about Time Lord hearing acuity.
The hall they were in opened out into an atrium of sorts, but there was no time to take it in as they dashed through the doors and out into the fresh air. Once they'd cleared the building Jack could see the problem. About a kilometer away, there was indeed a brontosaur tearing at a communications relay tower just next to the entrance of the park. The position created the bizarre illusion of the Teeth Gate entryway being about to take a bite out of the out-of-control robot.
“Shouldn't the safeties include the infrastructure?” the Doctor asked as they continued towards the creature. “I mean, I can appreciate prioritizing sentient life forms, but losing your communications is a bit dangerous too.”
“They do,” Rof bit out. “Not working. Not the manual overrides either.”
The Doctor scanned the beast with a whir and then stopped in his tracks to read the result. Jack stopped too.
“What is it?” Jack asked.
“That's not a robot,” the Doctor said unbelievingly.
“Well, it's not a real dinosaur either,” Jack retorted. “Pretty sure those ones were all about the grass and leaves. It shouldn't even have the teeth to do … that.”
He winced as a panel crashed down from the building.
“What? Don't be daft.” The Doctor pocketed his sonic screwdriver. “What I can't figure out is what the Nestene could possibly hope to accomplish here. They usually—”
“Doctor!” Jack interrupted, grabbing his arm and pulling him back into a run. “She's headed straight for it!”
“What?”
“Berlis Rof is still trying to disable that thing, except she thinks it's one of her robots!”
By the time they caught up to her Rof was only a hundred meters or so away. She had finally stopped approaching the beast, which was fortunately still intent on its task and hadn't noticed her as she kept toggling controls on a small box to no avail.
“That's not going to work,” the Doctor said.
“I can see that!” Rof smashed her hand against the side of the box and looked up at the dinosaur. “You're the safety experts. Got any brilliant ideas? Because otherwise, I'm going to have to try to get into the maintenance hatch of this thing and shut it down from the inside.”
“I wouldn't do that,” Jack said.
“No, nor would I.” The Doctor was adjusting several settings on the sonic screwdriver. “Not least because this one probably doesn't have a maintenance hatch at all.”
“What?” Rof demanded.
“Now, I'm not quite sure how this is going to work, since it's not Flesh, but it is under telepathic control, so I'm thinking if I adjust for the molecular structure of the plastic ...”
“In English, Doctor?” Jack asked.
Another panel fell to the ground and the brontosaur turned to watch its descent, then seemed to notice the humanoids.
“Short version: run!”
The Doctor pointed the sonic at the creature and it emitted a whine very different to anything Jack had ever heard from it before.
Jack grabbed Rof's arm and pulled her away as the midsection of the beast began to liquefy and melt, but they didn't run, transfixed by the sight. The liquefaction didn't spread from the middle however. Instead, it flowed towards the ground and began to reshape itself.
“Too big. Damn!” The Doctor turned to them. “Did I mention the running?”
They sprinted back towards the main building until Rof swerved to the left.
“This way,” she called out.
Considering neither of them had any better ideas, Jack and the Doctor followed her into what turned out to be a rather more fortified part of the complex. They clattered down the metal stairs into a massive control room, filled with people furiously trying to control what was going on with equipment that had no connection to the problem.
“Who's in charge here?” the Doctor asked.
Heads turned briefly, then swiveled back to focus on their monitors.
“The head of security was at the communications relay,” Rof said. “I don't know if she's still there or not.”
“Looks like you're it, Doctor,” Jack murmured. “What's the plan?”
“It's not so much a plan as an idea,” the Doctor replied. “Though when I say idea, it's really more like the background noise that eventually turns into an idea and, if we're very lucky, a plan. Are you feeling lucky today, Jack?”
“I've got an extra tyrannosaur heading into the forests!” a tech called out. “It's not on the grid at all, just like the others!”
“Not particularly,” Jack replied.
“What would it take,” Rof asked, “to boost that thing of yours enough to melt them all?”
“A communications relay would be nice,” the Doctor said, “which is probably why that's the first thing they took out. These aren't dinosaurs, not even the robot kind. Think of them as telepathically controlled sentient plastic, which isn't entirely true, but there isn't time for a full explanation that you wouldn't understand anyway.”
“The point is,” Jack cut in before the Doctor could go any further down that tangent, “if you have a backup communications relay that is still functional, that would be very helpful.”
“Or my ship,” the Doctor pointed out. “If I can get back to my ship, I can rig something, I'm sure of it. Well, when I say sure—”
“What was the frequency you used?” Rof interrupted.
The Doctor rattled off a set of numbers and letters with the odd color that Jack was almost certain wasn't actually part of anything but just meant to sound impressive.
“Right, new question,” she sighed. “Can you program this to broadcast on that frequency?”
The Doctor tilted his head. “Well, of course, but … oh no. Brilliant idea, but much too risky. You should stay here while we—”
Jack winced.
“While you big strapping men go tearing off to get yourselves killed? I think not.” She pointed to one of the monitors. “That's the building where your ship is.”
There were a couple of pterosaurs circling it. Jack wondered if they could be bribed with chocolate. Probably not, besides which he didn't have any. There were a few smaller land-bound species in the vicinity too and no way to tell whether they were the robotics that belonged there or Nestenes.
“You might or might not get to it,” Rof continued, “and then you might or might not be able to do anything once you get there. While you do that, I'll head for the backup communications relay, which is going to have to be brought back online at the site.”
“And what makes that any safer to reach?” Jack asked.
“Who said it was?” she retorted. “Splitting up doubles the odds that, one way or the other, we stop them.”
It was hard to fault the logic, except for the part where she didn't have all the facts. Neither, Jack realized, did the Doctor, and he really couldn't explain in current company. Among other things, there was the distinct possibility one or more of the techs right in this room could be duplicates and he couldn't risk tipping his hand as to the best advantage they had.
“Fine,” the Doctor said with a resigned huff. He held out his hand for her controller and, once he had it, zapped it with the sonic, presumably programming it with the necessary frequency. “But be careful! No unnecessary risks.”
Rof gave him a withering look as she took the box back from him and turned to leave. Jack had to admire her spirit, not to mention the view as she walked away from them. In other circumstances, well… Not worth dwelling on now, especially since the Doctor was turning in the opposite direction and heading back up the steps.
“Thing is, Jack,” the Doctor said as they rounded the corner leading to the door they'd come in, “we've got to be quick. If the backup site's as exposed as the primary, and communications relays tend to be, otherwise they wouldn't work very well, what with the obstructions and all, then she's going to be very exposed once she gets up there.”
Jack filled in what he hadn't said: there was every chance the Nestene were already demolishing the backup array or would be soon. When they reached the top of the stairs and darted for the door, Jack had to hold the Doctor back. In addition to the “guards” posted around the visitors' building there were other dinosaurs, presumably more Nestene duplicates unless they'd infiltrated the programming for the robots as well, blocking the way.
“Almost like they knew we were coming,” Jack muttered.
“I was just thinking the same myself. Got to be someone back in that control room working with them. Or replaced by them.”
The Doctor looked sad at that thought.
“Doctor,” Jack said. “There are still people out there. Civilians. Children. There's no time to give these Nestene a warning first.”
He was somewhat surprised that the Doctor hadn't given the “brontosaur” a chance, come to think of it, but there wasn't time to dwell on that.
“Right. So, fastest way there would be—”
Jack grabbed the Doctor's wrist as he pulled out the sonic and aimed it at Jack's vortex manipulator. “You already fixed it.”
“What? No I didn't. I'm sure I'd remember something like that, considering I also owe you an apology for disabling it in the first place. Don't know what I was thinking. Well, yes I do, but it wasn't very nice and it wasn't exactly fair.”
While those were words Jack had ached to hear for a very long time, time was something they were running a bit short on just now. Instead of dwelling on it, he activated the TARDIS homing program again, this time keying it to the transport function. “That's because you didn't do it yet.”
Jack took the Doctor's hand again, placing it over the vortex manipulator's faceplate as it engaged. With a pull and a twist, they were back in the TARDIS' control room.
“You probably shouldn't have told me that,” the Doctor said. He started to say something else, but then cut himself off. Jack was almost certain he knew what the word would have been.
“Yell at me later. Stop the invasion first.”
“Right!” The Doctor rolled the sonic screwdriver between his hands and popped it into a socket in the console. He pushed a series of buttons and everything lit up like a supernova.
When Jack could see again, he pulled the monitor towards him and scanned the area. Pools of melted plastic could be seen here and there. The few hovering platforms he saw looked undamaged, though the passengers were obviously frightened. They were right to be, Jack thought, because some of the blobs of melted plastic appeared to be trying to take form again.
“Doctor,” Jack started.
“I see them.” The Doctor looked grim. “They're still responding to the primary consciousness' telepathic signals. Not really separate beings in their own right, you see. Well, unless you insult their girlfriend and get them to break free of the programming, but I'm almost certain that was a one-off. Anyway, the point is, we're dealing with something bigger here. Something that wasn't disrupted by that sonic burst, and that is what's really in control here. This is where the warning comes in.”
He flipped a switch and an early twentieth-century-style squared-off microphone emerged from a compartment in the TARDIS' control console.
“I seek audience with the Nestene Consciousness under peaceful contract, according to Convention 15 of the Shadow Proclamation.”
“Does that ever work?” Jack asked, earning himself a glare.
A roaring sound filled the room, untranslated by the TARDIS, but going by the expression on the Doctor's face that had been a firm “no.”
“Look, what do you even want with this planet?” the Doctor demanded. “Sure, there's industry, but there's also miles and miles of pristine forests. That's kind of the point of the place. If you're looking for a new homeworld, I'm sure I can find you one that some batch of humans contaminated until they had to leave. Lots of food for you there.”
Another roar echoed through the speakers.
“It's insane,” the Doctor said, covering the microphone with his hand. “Completely and utterly mad.”
“Kinda figured,” Jack replied. “Any idea where it is and what we can do about it?”
“It's not like I'm going to stop interrupting your signal,” the Doctor resumed, pulling his hand off the microphone and shaking his head at Jack.
Jack ran to the opposite side of the console and pulled up a schematic that showed all the possible origins of the replies they were receiving. They were scattered not just around the immediate area but the whole planet.
“That doesn't make sense,” he muttered. “Unless ...”
He punched in another sequence of commands and lines connected all the possible source points, converging on a single location.
“Doctor,” he croaked, mouth gone dry.
“What is it?” the Doctor hissed, covering the microphone again. “I'm sort of busy here.”
“You're going to want to see this.”
With a huff, the Doctor came around the console to look. His jaw dropped for a second and then snapped shut.
“But that would mean ...”
“... that either it's taken over the molten core of the planet, or it always was the molten core of the planet.”
“But it can't be,” the Doctor said. “This planet has so much more history to come. Even if I had enough anti-plastic to take out the core of a planet, which I don't, that would destroy everything. No Proto-Pseudo-Jurassic, no Pseudo-Jurassic, no Post-Modern-Anti-Mesozoic, nothing. Unless ...”
The Doctor punched in a different series of commands, and the circles and lines Jack had come to recognize as Gallifreyan scrolled across the screen so fast he couldn't have read them even if he'd understood the language.
“Oh, that is brilliant!”
The Doctor grinned and turned to look at Jack as if expecting him to understand what was brilliant about it.
Jack just shook his head and shrugged.
“This isn't the end of anything. This is what makes the rest of this planet's history what it is! I should've seen it, but well, I may have nodded off in class that day, besides which I can't remember every turning point in every species' history, even if they have showed up to bother me more than once.” The Doctor practically danced around the console back to the microphone. “Still there are we?”
A low rumble replied.
“Wonderful. So, what we have here is a stalemate. Not only am I broadcasting a signal that is preventing you from controlling your foot soldiers, but I've given the code to the humans. So as I see it you have two choices: stay stuck in the center of this planet, unable to do much of anything except digest whatever toxins trickle down to you, or come to an agreement to work with the humans.”
The sound that came through this time almost seemed to have a questioning tone.
“Well, they need something to do with all their toxic waste. What better way than to feed it to a species that actually needs it? You need somewhere to live and something constructive to do with your time. I'm sure we can come to some arrangement. But we've got to get you talking to the actual humans instead of ripping apart their structures.”
Jack shook his head and sat down in the jump seat. This was going to take a while.
~0~
The negotiations lasted for hours. There had been little for Jack to do there, as he couldn't understand the Consciousness and had never been particularly good at diplomacy anyway. What he was good at, though, was repairing things, so he'd set about helping to reinstate the communications infrastructure.
As it turned out, Berlis Rof hadn't been able to bring the backup array online. She'd never made it that far and, in any case, the array had clearly been sabotaged. Jack had found her body barely a hundred meters shy of it, eyes looking surprised until he gently closed them. She was still indoors, and the cause of death appeared to be a laser micro-burst, so Jack could only surmise that it had been one of the duplicates, most likely in humanoid form. He sighed.
Some of the other security personnel came and took her body away, promising she would be given a hero's funeral according to the customs of her people. She deserved more than that, deserved a chance to live the rest of her life, but it would have to do.
Jack did not relish the thought of having to tell the Doctor and couldn't help wondering if this wasn't actually the worst place the TARDIS could have brought them. Sighing again, he joined the other techs working on repairing the damaged communications array to get them by until the primary one could be rebuilt. It was something to keep his hands and mind occupied until he'd have to face the Doctor with the news.
~0~
Once they were back in the TARDIS, the Doctor grinned manically, and anyone who hadn't known him as long as Jack might have even believed it, might have thought the Doctor could rebound this quickly from the news that an ally he'd met only briefly had been killed in action.
“So!” The Doctor clapped his hands together briskly and turned his attention to the console and started the dematerialization sequence. “Where to next?”
Jack felt a pit of lead settle into his stomach. He'd wanted to pull the Doctor out of his mourning, but this wasn't the answer. If Jack let him run like this the crash would be worse than ever.
“Doctor,” he said softly.
“I know, Ursa Majorica.” He threw a lever and pulled the viewscreen around to look at it. “Not remotely near the stars you apes thought looked either like a bear or a soup ladle. How does an entire species get those two confused, anyway? But! There are bears. You'll like them, Jack. Not entirely tame, but—”
“Doctor,” Jack said more firmly.
“Or maybe the Seonala System? I hear they have wonderful—”
“Doctor!”
Jack finally strode up to him and pulled his hands away from the console. No lights had come on since they'd entered the Vortex, the viewscreen was dark, and the Doctor either hadn't noticed or had completely ignored it. They weren't going anywhere, and Jack silently thanked the TARDIS for that, a faint brush of warmth against his mind telling him she'd heard.
“She didn't have to die,” the Doctor said, his voice breaking on the last word.
“Everything dies,” Jack said.
“It wasn't her time!” the Doctor shouted. “She should've had more time.”
Jack closed his eyes. He knew that refrain all too well and he knew they weren't talking about Berlis Rof anymore, or at least not only her. He pulled the Doctor closer and took a shaky breath himself when the Doctor stopped struggling and buried his face in Jack's shoulder.
“They always deserve more time,” Jack said roughly, “no matter how much of it they get.”
The Doctor didn't reply, just snuffled a bit and seemed to collapse in on himself. Jack tightened his arms and they stayed like that long enough that Jack's arms started to ache.
“What am I supposed to do now?” the Doctor asked in a small voice.
“The same thing we always do,” Jack replied. “Grieve. Heal. Live.”
“I have to tell her parents.”
Now they definitely weren't talking about Rof.
“You don't have to do it today.”
Whatever tension had been left in the Time Lord's shoulders melted away at that. Jack relaxed his arms and was relieved when the Doctor didn't push away from him. Jack pulled back instead, freeing a hand to lift the Doctor's chin so he could look at him. He looked lost and somehow both older and younger than Jack had ever seen him. He also looked exhausted.
“I know you don't sleep much,” Jack said, “but you need to rest before we go anywhere else.”
For a second it looked like the Doctor was going to argue the point. Then he shrugged and let himself be drawn away from the control room and up the stairs to the hall that led to his room.
The Doctor was passive and withdrawn as Jack undressed him and got him into his bed. He looked small and scared curled up under the covers, and he looked up at Jack with those young-old eyes. Jack felt his heart break at the sadness he saw there. The loneliness. A plea that the Doctor clearly couldn't bring himself to voice.
Hoping he was interpreting the question in those eyes correctly, Jack undressed as well and curled up behind the Doctor, an arm protectively around his waist. The Doctor didn't react at first, and Jack worried he'd read him wrong. Then the Doctor leaned into the embrace, tucking his head under Jack's chin. Jack couldn't help his body's natural reaction to the situation, but he very firmly tamped down the impulse to do anything other than hold the Time Lord as the Doctor's breath hitched, caught, and finally resolved into wracking sobs. Tears of his own fell silently as Jack thought of River Song, Angelo Colosanto, Ianto Jones, Estelle Cole, and everyone else he'd lost.
An eternity later both of them lay still curled together, breathing raggedly as they both tried to regain some sort of composure.
“I'm sorry, Jack,” the Doctor whispered.
“Nothing to be sorry for,” Jack replied.
“You know that's not true.”
“Just rest, Doctor,” Jack said, running a hand over the floppy hair, smoothing it gently. “Tomorrow's a new day, a new beginning.”
“You staying this time?”
Jack had been just another hired hand on the cruiser he'd deserted back at the start of this. Hired hands wandered off at a repair-and-refuel stop all the time, and someone else would be there to snap up the job. No, nothing to get back to.
“Yeah. Yeah, I think I am.”
Jack's arm was still around the Doctor's waist. The Doctor laid his own arm across it and hugged it against him.
“I like new beginnings,” the Doctor said.
Jack pressed a gentle kiss to the top of the Doctor's head, lingering for a few breaths.
Another ending, another beginning.
Not alone this time.
“Yeah. I do too.”
Author:
firefly124Pairing: Eleven/Jack
Rating: Teen
Spoilers/warnings: Spoilers through all of Season 6 and the “Last Night” minisode for Doctor Who and a minor one from Miracle Day for Torchwood. Warning for character death.
A/N: Thanks go out to
inkvoices for beta-reading, Brit-picking, and general cheerleading; AzSage (not on LJ) for the brainstorming and slash-beta; and to ubiquirk for brainstorming and idea-bouncing.Summary: What we call the beginning is often the end. And to make an end is to make a beginning. The end is where we start from
Prompt: Petdyth; Pre-Proto-Pseudo-Jurassic; Teeth Gate; forests
Quoted by Captain Jack Harkness more often than he cares to remember.
It had been decades since Jack had last set foot in this bar, and he'd never planned on coming back. Just like back then, however, he'd wound up working for passage on a sublight cruiser that docked at this station for repairs and refueling. Just like then, there wasn't much else to do other than wander around the station shops, which he had actually done this time, or have a drink or two, which he was next on his to-do list.
At least, that's what he'd planned on doing before he recognized one of the only other humanoids in the room, staring into a glass of hideously pink … something. Brown hair flopped over the eyes, the bow tie was barely visible due to the slumped posture, and the jacket looked like it had seen better days a century or so ago, but it was still clearly the Doctor. Jack felt a wave of déjà vu coupled with an odd sort of vertigo. When the Doctor looked up, it was clear that it had been far longer for him since their last meeting than it had been for Jack, who'd never seen him look so old, not in this regeneration nor even wearing his next face.
Jack circled the bar and took the stool next to the Doctor.
“It's been awhile,” he said neutrally, resting his elbows on the bar.
“Lifetimes,” the Doctor replied.
Jack added “single word answers” to the number of things that told him something was very wrong with the Doctor. In fact, more than all the rest, this item deserved a mauve flag stuck into it.
“When are you?” Jack asked as he flagged the bartender down for a drink. He tried to remember the last time he'd crossed paths with this version of the Doctor. It was rare that he'd run into him alone, in any case.
“Just back from the Singing Towers of Darillium. Brilliant place. Ever been?”
“Nope. Not sure I want to if this is how it leaves you after. What happened?”
“She'd been begging me for years. Always wanted to see them. I just couldn't do it. Then she sent me a message. Just got an amazing offer for a privately funded expedition to solve an 'impossible mystery.' Couldn't tell her we'd already solved it, of course.” The Doctor took a large gulp of his disgusting-looking drink and muttered, “Spoilers.”
Ah. River.
Oh.
Oh!
“I'm sorry, Doctor.” Jack rested a hand on his shoulder, encouraged when it wasn't shrugged off.
“Me too. Well, obviously.” The Doctor swirled his drink around the glass morosely.
“I'll miss her too.”
It was the sort of thing people said, and it was true, but Jack knew it rang hollow. Jack hadn't known her nearly as well. Still, those few times they had all met up had been memorable. Very memorable. He had even loved her—as if anyone could help it—but unlike the Doctor, he hadn't been in love with her.
The bartender delivered Jack's drink and he raised the glass towards the Doctor, who fumbled a bit as he raised his own, clinking the glasses together too loudly.
“To River,” Jack said.
“To River,” the Doctor echoed.
Jack considered the situation as he savored his hypervodka. Obviously the Doctor had known he'd be here. The role-reversal was too perfect to be anything but planned. The problem was that Jack hadn't exactly arrived with a plan as to how to pull the Doctor out of it. The goal was the same though. Jack was sure he could work it out. He just needed a bit more information.
“How'd you find me?”
The Doctor fished a crumpled bit of plastic-based paper out of a pocket and passed it over. Jack flattened it out and saw his own handwriting giving the spatiotemporal coordinates for … he checked his vortex manipulator … pretty much here and now, with the words, “His name is Jack.”
“Guess I'd better remember to send you this.” Jack smiled wryly at his own sense of irony as he tucked the note away.
“What was I thinking?” the Doctor demanded, suddenly angry. “I knew how it was going to end before it started. Well, that's how it always ends, but you know all about that. But this time I really knew. I'd seen it. I'd bloody been there, Jack, and it hurt enough the first time, but having to send her off to it, knowing how it ends … I should've just stayed clear of her once we'd found her.”
“You loved her, Doctor,” Jack said softly. There was no question of that, even if Jack hadn't seen the way they both looked at each other. Had looked at each other. This little tirade said it loud and clear enough all by itself. “And she loved you. It doesn't work that way.”
“You didn't see the look in her eyes,” the Doctor said, voice breaking on the words. “When she realized I'd known all along. I betrayed her, Jack, just like you, just like Rose, just like all of them.”
“Yeah, because I would've been better off as the rogue Time Agent who snuffed out the human race in the mid-twentieth century.” He slugged back the rest of his hypervodka and came to a decision. “Come on.”
The Doctor was a dead weight as Jack grabbed his arm and pulled him from his barstool.
“Where?”
He didn't sound all that interested in the answer.
“Does it matter?” Jack turned and grinned at him, walking backwards for a few steps and sweeping his free arm out to encompass all the places they could go. “Isn't that half the fun?”
“You don't know where the TARDIS is,” the Doctor said petulantly, though he didn't put up a fight, just let himself be pulled along the corridor. “And I'm not flying her, so we're not going anywhere.”
“You're not the only one River taught a few tricks to.”
Jack was starting to understand why. She might not have known when, but she'd known this day would come and that Jack might be the only good friend the Doctor had left alive. He punched a quick sequence on his wristcomp and it pulled up a schematic with a red line showing the most direct route to the TARDIS.
“Yeah, well … I'm the only one can do the snappy thing,” the Doctor said with a pout.
“You think I've lost my key? Trust me, Doctor, after getting it blown up with me, I've been more careful.”
They turned a corner and there she stood in all her blue glory. Jack opened the compartment he'd got added to his vortex manipulator and fished out his key.
“I know what you're doing, Jack, and it's not that I don't appreciate it.”
Jack ignored him as he opened the door and dragged him through it. The TARDIS hummed a greeting in his mind and Jack ran up to the console, trailing his fingers along the edge.
“Although I don't appreciate you flirting with my ship!”
“She does.” Jack grinned as the panels lit up brightly.
The Doctor mumbled something Jack couldn't quite make out.
“So, where shall it be, girl?” Jack asked as he flipped a lever and cranked a gear, all the while watching the Doctor who was leaning up against a railing, arms crossed and still pouting.
A picture came up on the viewscreen.
Jack raised his eyebrows.
“Seriously?”
“What?” the Doctor demanded.
Jack switched the monitor off. “Never mind. The TARDIS knows what she's doing.”
At least he hoped so. Otherwise this was going to be depressingly awful.
The landing, when it came, wasn't quite as smooth as River would've managed, Jack thought, but considering they weren't both thrown to the floor he was satisfied. He liked to think she'd have been pleased as well, even though she'd have offered plenty of critique.
The Doctor was still pouting.
“When exactly did she manage to give you driving lessons?”
“Time was not the boss of her, Doctor, and I believe you're the one who told her that.”
The Doctor smiled sadly. “So I did.”
Jack nodded towards the door. “Don't you want to see what's out there?”
With haunted eyes, the Doctor shook his head.
Ah. Jack remembered that feeling well. That didn't mean he was about to give up.
He didn't so much remember feeling the TARDIS shudder after landing. While that probably wasn't good, it gave him something to work with.
“There's probably something interesting out there,” he said teasingly, hiding his worry behind a wide grin.
The TARDIS shook again.
“When did you land us?” the Doctor demanded. “The Great Quake of Vaskyagar?”
The next tremor jolted the door open with, Jack suspected, some help from the ship herself.
“I'm not telling.”
Jack swung an arm across the Doctor's shoulders and dragged him down the ramp.
“I'm sure it's someplace completely boring,” the Doctor said as he shuffled along, not quite resisting but not exactly helping either. An ear-splitting sound roared in at them. “One of your pleasure planets, maybe, where someone's got the bass cranked entirely too loud? Why humans think that actually enhances musical enjoyment is something I've never understood. Now, take a nice, light sound like a pennywhistle or a recorder. Did I ever tell you …?”
The TARDIS shook again, and with a crash, everything went sideways, throwing them both to the floor to fetch up against the central console in a tangled heap which, in other circumstances, could have led somewhere very interesting considering the way the Doctor was strewn across Jack's lap.
Jack gulped.
“Doctor?” he asked. “The TARDIS kept her extrapolator shielding in the remodel, right?”
“Of course she did. What sort of daft question is that?”
The Doctor pushed himself up and incidentally off Jack as well.
Jack pointed wordlessly at the door that was now a skylight.
Above the door a very large, very reptilian foot hovered as if in mid-step.
“A dinosaur?” the Doctor asked incredulously. “You brought us back to … well, I'd have to take a closer look to be sure exactly what period it would be, but at first glance, I'd have to say ...”
Jack caught firm hold of the Doctor's arm as he moved to climb out and take a closer look. Getting the Doctor squished into a pancake was not part of the plan, however sketchy the plan might be. Among other things he was running low on regenerations, and while the next version of him was certainly attractive enough, Jack wasn't in a hurry to lose this one.
The foot made to move, but then stopped again, frozen as if someone had flipped an off switch.
Jack breathed a sigh of relief and released the Doctor's arm, giving up on holding him back, though he kept pace with him crawling up to the door to have a better look.
It wasn't the best angle for meeting a creature that could swallow you in a single gulp and not in the fun way. (Even Jack had some limits.) They were looking up at a foot, a tail, and, well, the rest that would go with that angle. Impressive, but, again, pretty incompatible with humanoid anatomy in any way other than painful death. Jack could barely see the front of the beast. Still, it was unmistakable.
“Tyrannosaurus Rex?” the Doctor demanded as he climbed out and hopped down to the ground. “But why's he stuck like that?”
Jack followed, watching indulgently as the Doctor whipped out his sonic and scanned the beast, his eyes lighting up as he put it all together.
“Oh, you beauty.” The Doctor grinned, then turned to Jack. “Seriously? Petdyth? This was your idea of the perfect place to go?”
Jack swallowed and forced himself not to get lost in those ancient eyes as he answered, “Not me.”
The whine of a hovercraft drew closer and Jack turned almost as quickly as the Doctor to see who was coming. He grinned. This was going to be interesting. The Doctor merely looked dumbstruck.
A short brunette wearing a combination of 20th century Terran and 45th century Erisian safari gear hopped out of the vehicle and strode purposefully towards them. When she drew close enough, Jack noted that her name badge, hanging on a cord just above her smallish but still quite lovely breasts, read “Berlis Rof, Security Officer.”
“What the devil do you two idiots think you're doing?” she demanded. “There are reasons for the fences, you know! What if the sentient-proximity fail-safes hadn't engaged? Looks like your blue box almost got flattened as it is!”
“What?” the Doctor asked. “Oh, right! Fail-safes. Well, that was the point, after all. Testing the fail-safes. Making sure they don't fail to, well, keep people safe.”
He whipped out his psychic paper, and Jack couldn't help mirroring the action. The Doctor wasn't the only one who owned the stuff, after all.
The brunette's anger grew, if anything, even fiercer.
“Robotics Safety? Seriously? You lot are supposed to let us know when you're coming to conduct tests so that we can close down the exhibits.” She waved at the frozen Tyrannosaur. “Rather spoils the effect for the kids to see the big scary monsters shut off. Then we get parents demanding refunds and if enough of that happens, well, you won't have anything to inspect, now, will you?”
Jack turned in place until he spotted the viewing deck floating about half a kilometer away with what appeared to be a wide assortment of species and their offspring. Several of them were waving excitedly.
“They don't seem to mind,” Jack said, waving back at them. He raised his voice to add, “All part of the fun, right, kids?”
Rof huffed in disgust. “Fine. You've run your test. Anything else you'd care to inspect, or shall I just see you back to your … unique transport capsule?”
“Well, if you're offering ...” Jack let his voice trail off suggestively and winked at her.
“Jack,” the Doctor said in an exasperated tone that sounded more amused than annoyed, “I'm fairly certain she meant the facility. Which, yes, I'd love to see more, actually. Can never get enough of robotized dinosaurs, really. Prime era for Petdyth, the Pre-Proto-Pseudo-Jurassic, you know. Much better than the Proto-Pseudo-Jurassic, and the Pseudo-Proto just isn't even worth ...”
“Doctor,” Jack said, “you're babbling. What he means to say, Officer Rof, is that we'd love it if you were to give us the official tour now that we've completed the surprise portion of our inspection.”
“Would I?” the Doctor asked. “Yes, I suppose I would. Only ...”
He waved at the TARDIS.
“Got a hitch on that thing?” Jack asked her.
She just gave an exasperated glare as she turned back to her hovercraft and punched a few buttons. A line of energy extended from the vehicle to the TARDIS, encircling it. As the line grew taut the TARDIS slowly tilted upwards and righted herself.
“Get in already, so I can turn the T-rex back on.”
“Yes, ma'am.” Jack gave her a mock half-salute, taking the Doctor's elbow and guiding him into the hovercraft.
Robot inspection ought, Jack believed, to be something more enjoyable than hanging about in utilitarian rooms watching them be assembled and serviced. Now, he'd serviced a robot or two in his time, even if he didn't count the ones who'd wanted to remove his face back in his mortal days, and he knew things could get very interesting in that sense. Less so here.
The most interesting thing about the tour, really, was how excited the Doctor got about this or that bit of technology. It helped that Jack had developed an immunity to offense at the side comments about primitive life forms and misdirected innovation. Most of the time he even managed not to rise to the bait. However, the last remark had come while Jack had been contemplating the many alternative uses of the spongy substance being used to create variously-sized dinosaur tongues, so he'd been a bit distracted.
“Hey,” Jack retorted, “at least they didn't do something really stupid like try to clone actual dinosaurs from bits of DNA trapped in amber and then splice them with frog genes.”
That had earned him stares from both the Doctor and Rof. It was their guide who spoke first.
“How did you know about that?” she demanded. “That's classified information, and not something your agency would have clearance for.”
Jack raised his eyebrows. “It was also a late twentieth-century film with a bad premise and worse science.”
The Doctor tugged at his bow tie a bit awkwardly. “Excellent cautionary tale, though, even if some twenty-fifth century idiots did take it for inspiration instead. Really couldn't get them to understand just how foolish of an idea it was. Until, well ...” He shrugged.
“That sounds like a story for another day,” Jack said. “Especially since it's still classified three centuries later.”
Rof stared at them both as if they'd just sprouted tentacles from their ears. To be fair, that would be a bit more believable in the twenty-eighth century than time travel, which hadn't made any progress outside the world of fiction yet, but which the Doctor had just heavily implied having done. She needed distracting, and quickly, or she was going to start asking awkward questions.
Jack brought out his most seductive smile and took a step towards her, stopping in mid-stride as her communicator crackled.
Rof snapped the device from her belt and pressed a switch. “Rof to control. What was that? I didn't catch a word of it.”
Jack couldn't make out any of what was said in the next burst of static either, but apparently Berlis Rof did as she shot the two men a look and turned to sprint away from them, yelling over her shoulder for them to stay where they were. For a second Jack just stared at her. Then he noticed the Doctor was running after her. Jack quickly sprinted to catch up.
“What's going on?” he asked as they ran. “And why does her communicator sound like that? Static interference should be obsolete.”
“So should the brontosaur chomping on the relay station,” the Doctor replied with a grin as he put on another burst of speed.
Well, that answered that, not to mention a question or two about Time Lord hearing acuity.
The hall they were in opened out into an atrium of sorts, but there was no time to take it in as they dashed through the doors and out into the fresh air. Once they'd cleared the building Jack could see the problem. About a kilometer away, there was indeed a brontosaur tearing at a communications relay tower just next to the entrance of the park. The position created the bizarre illusion of the Teeth Gate entryway being about to take a bite out of the out-of-control robot.
“Shouldn't the safeties include the infrastructure?” the Doctor asked as they continued towards the creature. “I mean, I can appreciate prioritizing sentient life forms, but losing your communications is a bit dangerous too.”
“They do,” Rof bit out. “Not working. Not the manual overrides either.”
The Doctor scanned the beast with a whir and then stopped in his tracks to read the result. Jack stopped too.
“What is it?” Jack asked.
“That's not a robot,” the Doctor said unbelievingly.
“Well, it's not a real dinosaur either,” Jack retorted. “Pretty sure those ones were all about the grass and leaves. It shouldn't even have the teeth to do … that.”
He winced as a panel crashed down from the building.
“What? Don't be daft.” The Doctor pocketed his sonic screwdriver. “What I can't figure out is what the Nestene could possibly hope to accomplish here. They usually—”
“Doctor!” Jack interrupted, grabbing his arm and pulling him back into a run. “She's headed straight for it!”
“What?”
“Berlis Rof is still trying to disable that thing, except she thinks it's one of her robots!”
By the time they caught up to her Rof was only a hundred meters or so away. She had finally stopped approaching the beast, which was fortunately still intent on its task and hadn't noticed her as she kept toggling controls on a small box to no avail.
“That's not going to work,” the Doctor said.
“I can see that!” Rof smashed her hand against the side of the box and looked up at the dinosaur. “You're the safety experts. Got any brilliant ideas? Because otherwise, I'm going to have to try to get into the maintenance hatch of this thing and shut it down from the inside.”
“I wouldn't do that,” Jack said.
“No, nor would I.” The Doctor was adjusting several settings on the sonic screwdriver. “Not least because this one probably doesn't have a maintenance hatch at all.”
“What?” Rof demanded.
“Now, I'm not quite sure how this is going to work, since it's not Flesh, but it is under telepathic control, so I'm thinking if I adjust for the molecular structure of the plastic ...”
“In English, Doctor?” Jack asked.
Another panel fell to the ground and the brontosaur turned to watch its descent, then seemed to notice the humanoids.
“Short version: run!”
The Doctor pointed the sonic at the creature and it emitted a whine very different to anything Jack had ever heard from it before.
Jack grabbed Rof's arm and pulled her away as the midsection of the beast began to liquefy and melt, but they didn't run, transfixed by the sight. The liquefaction didn't spread from the middle however. Instead, it flowed towards the ground and began to reshape itself.
“Too big. Damn!” The Doctor turned to them. “Did I mention the running?”
They sprinted back towards the main building until Rof swerved to the left.
“This way,” she called out.
Considering neither of them had any better ideas, Jack and the Doctor followed her into what turned out to be a rather more fortified part of the complex. They clattered down the metal stairs into a massive control room, filled with people furiously trying to control what was going on with equipment that had no connection to the problem.
“Who's in charge here?” the Doctor asked.
Heads turned briefly, then swiveled back to focus on their monitors.
“The head of security was at the communications relay,” Rof said. “I don't know if she's still there or not.”
“Looks like you're it, Doctor,” Jack murmured. “What's the plan?”
“It's not so much a plan as an idea,” the Doctor replied. “Though when I say idea, it's really more like the background noise that eventually turns into an idea and, if we're very lucky, a plan. Are you feeling lucky today, Jack?”
“I've got an extra tyrannosaur heading into the forests!” a tech called out. “It's not on the grid at all, just like the others!”
“Not particularly,” Jack replied.
“What would it take,” Rof asked, “to boost that thing of yours enough to melt them all?”
“A communications relay would be nice,” the Doctor said, “which is probably why that's the first thing they took out. These aren't dinosaurs, not even the robot kind. Think of them as telepathically controlled sentient plastic, which isn't entirely true, but there isn't time for a full explanation that you wouldn't understand anyway.”
“The point is,” Jack cut in before the Doctor could go any further down that tangent, “if you have a backup communications relay that is still functional, that would be very helpful.”
“Or my ship,” the Doctor pointed out. “If I can get back to my ship, I can rig something, I'm sure of it. Well, when I say sure—”
“What was the frequency you used?” Rof interrupted.
The Doctor rattled off a set of numbers and letters with the odd color that Jack was almost certain wasn't actually part of anything but just meant to sound impressive.
“Right, new question,” she sighed. “Can you program this to broadcast on that frequency?”
The Doctor tilted his head. “Well, of course, but … oh no. Brilliant idea, but much too risky. You should stay here while we—”
Jack winced.
“While you big strapping men go tearing off to get yourselves killed? I think not.” She pointed to one of the monitors. “That's the building where your ship is.”
There were a couple of pterosaurs circling it. Jack wondered if they could be bribed with chocolate. Probably not, besides which he didn't have any. There were a few smaller land-bound species in the vicinity too and no way to tell whether they were the robotics that belonged there or Nestenes.
“You might or might not get to it,” Rof continued, “and then you might or might not be able to do anything once you get there. While you do that, I'll head for the backup communications relay, which is going to have to be brought back online at the site.”
“And what makes that any safer to reach?” Jack asked.
“Who said it was?” she retorted. “Splitting up doubles the odds that, one way or the other, we stop them.”
It was hard to fault the logic, except for the part where she didn't have all the facts. Neither, Jack realized, did the Doctor, and he really couldn't explain in current company. Among other things, there was the distinct possibility one or more of the techs right in this room could be duplicates and he couldn't risk tipping his hand as to the best advantage they had.
“Fine,” the Doctor said with a resigned huff. He held out his hand for her controller and, once he had it, zapped it with the sonic, presumably programming it with the necessary frequency. “But be careful! No unnecessary risks.”
Rof gave him a withering look as she took the box back from him and turned to leave. Jack had to admire her spirit, not to mention the view as she walked away from them. In other circumstances, well… Not worth dwelling on now, especially since the Doctor was turning in the opposite direction and heading back up the steps.
“Thing is, Jack,” the Doctor said as they rounded the corner leading to the door they'd come in, “we've got to be quick. If the backup site's as exposed as the primary, and communications relays tend to be, otherwise they wouldn't work very well, what with the obstructions and all, then she's going to be very exposed once she gets up there.”
Jack filled in what he hadn't said: there was every chance the Nestene were already demolishing the backup array or would be soon. When they reached the top of the stairs and darted for the door, Jack had to hold the Doctor back. In addition to the “guards” posted around the visitors' building there were other dinosaurs, presumably more Nestene duplicates unless they'd infiltrated the programming for the robots as well, blocking the way.
“Almost like they knew we were coming,” Jack muttered.
“I was just thinking the same myself. Got to be someone back in that control room working with them. Or replaced by them.”
The Doctor looked sad at that thought.
“Doctor,” Jack said. “There are still people out there. Civilians. Children. There's no time to give these Nestene a warning first.”
He was somewhat surprised that the Doctor hadn't given the “brontosaur” a chance, come to think of it, but there wasn't time to dwell on that.
“Right. So, fastest way there would be—”
Jack grabbed the Doctor's wrist as he pulled out the sonic and aimed it at Jack's vortex manipulator. “You already fixed it.”
“What? No I didn't. I'm sure I'd remember something like that, considering I also owe you an apology for disabling it in the first place. Don't know what I was thinking. Well, yes I do, but it wasn't very nice and it wasn't exactly fair.”
While those were words Jack had ached to hear for a very long time, time was something they were running a bit short on just now. Instead of dwelling on it, he activated the TARDIS homing program again, this time keying it to the transport function. “That's because you didn't do it yet.”
Jack took the Doctor's hand again, placing it over the vortex manipulator's faceplate as it engaged. With a pull and a twist, they were back in the TARDIS' control room.
“You probably shouldn't have told me that,” the Doctor said. He started to say something else, but then cut himself off. Jack was almost certain he knew what the word would have been.
“Yell at me later. Stop the invasion first.”
“Right!” The Doctor rolled the sonic screwdriver between his hands and popped it into a socket in the console. He pushed a series of buttons and everything lit up like a supernova.
When Jack could see again, he pulled the monitor towards him and scanned the area. Pools of melted plastic could be seen here and there. The few hovering platforms he saw looked undamaged, though the passengers were obviously frightened. They were right to be, Jack thought, because some of the blobs of melted plastic appeared to be trying to take form again.
“Doctor,” Jack started.
“I see them.” The Doctor looked grim. “They're still responding to the primary consciousness' telepathic signals. Not really separate beings in their own right, you see. Well, unless you insult their girlfriend and get them to break free of the programming, but I'm almost certain that was a one-off. Anyway, the point is, we're dealing with something bigger here. Something that wasn't disrupted by that sonic burst, and that is what's really in control here. This is where the warning comes in.”
He flipped a switch and an early twentieth-century-style squared-off microphone emerged from a compartment in the TARDIS' control console.
“I seek audience with the Nestene Consciousness under peaceful contract, according to Convention 15 of the Shadow Proclamation.”
“Does that ever work?” Jack asked, earning himself a glare.
A roaring sound filled the room, untranslated by the TARDIS, but going by the expression on the Doctor's face that had been a firm “no.”
“Look, what do you even want with this planet?” the Doctor demanded. “Sure, there's industry, but there's also miles and miles of pristine forests. That's kind of the point of the place. If you're looking for a new homeworld, I'm sure I can find you one that some batch of humans contaminated until they had to leave. Lots of food for you there.”
Another roar echoed through the speakers.
“It's insane,” the Doctor said, covering the microphone with his hand. “Completely and utterly mad.”
“Kinda figured,” Jack replied. “Any idea where it is and what we can do about it?”
“It's not like I'm going to stop interrupting your signal,” the Doctor resumed, pulling his hand off the microphone and shaking his head at Jack.
Jack ran to the opposite side of the console and pulled up a schematic that showed all the possible origins of the replies they were receiving. They were scattered not just around the immediate area but the whole planet.
“That doesn't make sense,” he muttered. “Unless ...”
He punched in another sequence of commands and lines connected all the possible source points, converging on a single location.
“Doctor,” he croaked, mouth gone dry.
“What is it?” the Doctor hissed, covering the microphone again. “I'm sort of busy here.”
“You're going to want to see this.”
With a huff, the Doctor came around the console to look. His jaw dropped for a second and then snapped shut.
“But that would mean ...”
“... that either it's taken over the molten core of the planet, or it always was the molten core of the planet.”
“But it can't be,” the Doctor said. “This planet has so much more history to come. Even if I had enough anti-plastic to take out the core of a planet, which I don't, that would destroy everything. No Proto-Pseudo-Jurassic, no Pseudo-Jurassic, no Post-Modern-Anti-Mesozoic, nothing. Unless ...”
The Doctor punched in a different series of commands, and the circles and lines Jack had come to recognize as Gallifreyan scrolled across the screen so fast he couldn't have read them even if he'd understood the language.
“Oh, that is brilliant!”
The Doctor grinned and turned to look at Jack as if expecting him to understand what was brilliant about it.
Jack just shook his head and shrugged.
“This isn't the end of anything. This is what makes the rest of this planet's history what it is! I should've seen it, but well, I may have nodded off in class that day, besides which I can't remember every turning point in every species' history, even if they have showed up to bother me more than once.” The Doctor practically danced around the console back to the microphone. “Still there are we?”
A low rumble replied.
“Wonderful. So, what we have here is a stalemate. Not only am I broadcasting a signal that is preventing you from controlling your foot soldiers, but I've given the code to the humans. So as I see it you have two choices: stay stuck in the center of this planet, unable to do much of anything except digest whatever toxins trickle down to you, or come to an agreement to work with the humans.”
The sound that came through this time almost seemed to have a questioning tone.
“Well, they need something to do with all their toxic waste. What better way than to feed it to a species that actually needs it? You need somewhere to live and something constructive to do with your time. I'm sure we can come to some arrangement. But we've got to get you talking to the actual humans instead of ripping apart their structures.”
Jack shook his head and sat down in the jump seat. This was going to take a while.
The negotiations lasted for hours. There had been little for Jack to do there, as he couldn't understand the Consciousness and had never been particularly good at diplomacy anyway. What he was good at, though, was repairing things, so he'd set about helping to reinstate the communications infrastructure.
As it turned out, Berlis Rof hadn't been able to bring the backup array online. She'd never made it that far and, in any case, the array had clearly been sabotaged. Jack had found her body barely a hundred meters shy of it, eyes looking surprised until he gently closed them. She was still indoors, and the cause of death appeared to be a laser micro-burst, so Jack could only surmise that it had been one of the duplicates, most likely in humanoid form. He sighed.
Some of the other security personnel came and took her body away, promising she would be given a hero's funeral according to the customs of her people. She deserved more than that, deserved a chance to live the rest of her life, but it would have to do.
Jack did not relish the thought of having to tell the Doctor and couldn't help wondering if this wasn't actually the worst place the TARDIS could have brought them. Sighing again, he joined the other techs working on repairing the damaged communications array to get them by until the primary one could be rebuilt. It was something to keep his hands and mind occupied until he'd have to face the Doctor with the news.
Once they were back in the TARDIS, the Doctor grinned manically, and anyone who hadn't known him as long as Jack might have even believed it, might have thought the Doctor could rebound this quickly from the news that an ally he'd met only briefly had been killed in action.
“So!” The Doctor clapped his hands together briskly and turned his attention to the console and started the dematerialization sequence. “Where to next?”
Jack felt a pit of lead settle into his stomach. He'd wanted to pull the Doctor out of his mourning, but this wasn't the answer. If Jack let him run like this the crash would be worse than ever.
“Doctor,” he said softly.
“I know, Ursa Majorica.” He threw a lever and pulled the viewscreen around to look at it. “Not remotely near the stars you apes thought looked either like a bear or a soup ladle. How does an entire species get those two confused, anyway? But! There are bears. You'll like them, Jack. Not entirely tame, but—”
“Doctor,” Jack said more firmly.
“Or maybe the Seonala System? I hear they have wonderful—”
“Doctor!”
Jack finally strode up to him and pulled his hands away from the console. No lights had come on since they'd entered the Vortex, the viewscreen was dark, and the Doctor either hadn't noticed or had completely ignored it. They weren't going anywhere, and Jack silently thanked the TARDIS for that, a faint brush of warmth against his mind telling him she'd heard.
“She didn't have to die,” the Doctor said, his voice breaking on the last word.
“Everything dies,” Jack said.
“It wasn't her time!” the Doctor shouted. “She should've had more time.”
Jack closed his eyes. He knew that refrain all too well and he knew they weren't talking about Berlis Rof anymore, or at least not only her. He pulled the Doctor closer and took a shaky breath himself when the Doctor stopped struggling and buried his face in Jack's shoulder.
“They always deserve more time,” Jack said roughly, “no matter how much of it they get.”
The Doctor didn't reply, just snuffled a bit and seemed to collapse in on himself. Jack tightened his arms and they stayed like that long enough that Jack's arms started to ache.
“What am I supposed to do now?” the Doctor asked in a small voice.
“The same thing we always do,” Jack replied. “Grieve. Heal. Live.”
“I have to tell her parents.”
Now they definitely weren't talking about Rof.
“You don't have to do it today.”
Whatever tension had been left in the Time Lord's shoulders melted away at that. Jack relaxed his arms and was relieved when the Doctor didn't push away from him. Jack pulled back instead, freeing a hand to lift the Doctor's chin so he could look at him. He looked lost and somehow both older and younger than Jack had ever seen him. He also looked exhausted.
“I know you don't sleep much,” Jack said, “but you need to rest before we go anywhere else.”
For a second it looked like the Doctor was going to argue the point. Then he shrugged and let himself be drawn away from the control room and up the stairs to the hall that led to his room.
The Doctor was passive and withdrawn as Jack undressed him and got him into his bed. He looked small and scared curled up under the covers, and he looked up at Jack with those young-old eyes. Jack felt his heart break at the sadness he saw there. The loneliness. A plea that the Doctor clearly couldn't bring himself to voice.
Hoping he was interpreting the question in those eyes correctly, Jack undressed as well and curled up behind the Doctor, an arm protectively around his waist. The Doctor didn't react at first, and Jack worried he'd read him wrong. Then the Doctor leaned into the embrace, tucking his head under Jack's chin. Jack couldn't help his body's natural reaction to the situation, but he very firmly tamped down the impulse to do anything other than hold the Time Lord as the Doctor's breath hitched, caught, and finally resolved into wracking sobs. Tears of his own fell silently as Jack thought of River Song, Angelo Colosanto, Ianto Jones, Estelle Cole, and everyone else he'd lost.
An eternity later both of them lay still curled together, breathing raggedly as they both tried to regain some sort of composure.
“I'm sorry, Jack,” the Doctor whispered.
“Nothing to be sorry for,” Jack replied.
“You know that's not true.”
“Just rest, Doctor,” Jack said, running a hand over the floppy hair, smoothing it gently. “Tomorrow's a new day, a new beginning.”
“You staying this time?”
Jack had been just another hired hand on the cruiser he'd deserted back at the start of this. Hired hands wandered off at a repair-and-refuel stop all the time, and someone else would be there to snap up the job. No, nothing to get back to.
“Yeah. Yeah, I think I am.”
Jack's arm was still around the Doctor's waist. The Doctor laid his own arm across it and hugged it against him.
“I like new beginnings,” the Doctor said.
Jack pressed a gentle kiss to the top of the Doctor's head, lingering for a few breaths.
Another ending, another beginning.
Not alone this time.
“Yeah. I do too.”
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Great fic!
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