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wintercompanion2008-07-26 03:24 am
vail-kagami: To Wander, Between the Stars, Part 2/3 (Jack/Ten) [R]
Author:
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nightrider101Challenge: AU
Rating: R (overall)
Spoilers: Series 3 Finale
Warnings: Violence, mentioned rape
Summary: Jack never made that con in 1941. Instead his broken vortex manipulator strands him in the twenty-first century, where he finally meets the Doctor - who's been a prisoner of Torchwood for a long time.
John asked him to stay the night and Jack gladly accepted. He got a room on one of the upper floors of the building and a broad bed. Tomorrow, John had decided, Jack should try again. The Doctor didn’t trust him but at least he didn’t outright despise him either. It was a start.
The encounter with the Time Lord had left Jack more shaken than he liked to admit. He couldn’t help the feeling that all this was terribly, terribly wrong.
Jack had never been a friend of unnecessary torture but he had no problem using it if the situation called for it. And the Doctor wasn’t his prisoner, and thus not his problem. The worse John and his men treated him the better the chance Jack had to win his trust with a little kindness. All this really shouldn’t bother him that much.
It must have been the length of time the alien had been here, Jack decided later. Forty years were just too much to imagine, and there was no hope for the poor guy to ever get out of here. This hopelessness was the reason Jack felt more pity than he should. That, and the impression that the Doctor really didn’t deserve this.
“Don’t let him fool you,” John had reminded him just before he’d entered the Time Lord’s cell earlier. “There’s something about him that makes people want to like him, but you shouldn’t fall for that. It’s all just for show. Don’t forget that he’s an alien, and one with telepathic abilities on top of that.”
Jack had kept it in mind. He had a training that helped him block telepathic influences but nothing ever attempted to get past his defences. If someone was suffering without good cause it was only natural to feel some sympathy. Jack knew that, and knew how important it was not to let that sympathy distract him from what he needed to do. So he’d pushed it away long ago, to a part of his mind he heard but never listened to.
He should have pushed the frail-looking man out of his mind the moment the door closed. Dwelling on the Doctor’s fate wasn’t very professional or profitable. Jack had thought he had long since gotten over this stupid human weakness.
It took him a while to realise that it wasn’t the pity that made him feel so uneasy, that kept his thoughts wandering back to the man in the cell. Of course he felt sorry for his fate, more than he probably should but that wasn’t the emotion that dominated this picture of the Doctor.
It wasn’t pity. It was admiration.
He had saved the world. He was keeping to his morals despite the suffering it brought him.
He wanted to go home. Back to the stars, once more. Jack felt he could sympathise – and he knew how dangerous that was. He tried to get over it but he couldn’t change the fact that, more than his brilliance, more than his strength, the Doctor’s quiet refusal to give up had impressed him.
It had been a long time since Jack had been impressed by anyone.
Perhaps that was why the shame at being caught trying to betray the Time Lord still lingered.
Despite John’s warning and the tale about the murdered medic, Jack found it easier to believe Ianto Jones’ opinion of the Doctor. After leaving the cell, waiting for John to finish his work for the night, Jack had tried to find the Welshman again, preferring his company to that of the guards, but the young man had already gone home. Jack ended up sitting in the kitchen again and listening to one of the scientists talk about all the things they had found out about the Doctor over the years: how resistant he was to extreme temperatures, how he could easily deal with poison but was allergic to most human medications, how long he could hold his breath and that his wounds used to heal a lot faster ten years ago. After that the scientist spoke of Torchwood’s work and purpose: to protect the British Empire Jack hadn’t known existed yet from alien invaders. The man seemed quite proud of all the advanced technology they had taken from said invaders, and how good a test subject the Doctor was for the less lethal weapons they found. The former time agent excused himself around
Jack was tired but found himself unable to sleep. His thoughts kept wandering back to the Time Lord, wondering how long it would take John and his staff to finish whatever they were doing to him tonight. As punishment for saving this rotten planet once again.
Jack forced those thoughts out of his head, tried not to think about going home either, because the excitement and worry at the idea would keep his mind too busy to sleep. Instead he closed his eyes, firmly, and rolled to his side, the blanket crumbled between his legs.
Somewhere below him the Doctor was being tortured. Right now. Maybe they were poisoning him with aspirin; maybe they tested if he could still stand as many electro shocks as last week, if his burns healed at the same rate as last year. Maybe this moment someone (John?) was pressing his face against the floor and fucking him until he passed out from pain.
Jack turned on his other side. Opened his eyes and stared out of the window, at the city below.
If Jack never saw this place again he certainly wouldn’t be upset. It was time for him to leave this period and place behind. It was poisoning his mind.
Once he was gone and could no longer do anything to help he could stop feeling so guilty for doing nothing.
He was just beginning to fall asleep when the door opened and John came in. A glance at the digital watch beside the bed told Jack it was
John didn’t waste time apologizing for waking him. He got rid of his clothes and jumped onto the bed, and for one moment Jack actually thought he could make a point: push him away, say he didn’t want anything to do with him. Claim the moral high ground and tell his former partner that, dangerous criminal or not, empty cruelty could only go so far and that he would not have sex with a sadistic rapist who enjoyed hurting others without just cause.
When John threw himself against him with all the aggressive passion he remembered so well and attacked his mouth without gentleness, Jack kissed him back.
-
The new doctor arrived the next morning: an attractive, dark skinned lady whose age, Jack estimated with one single expert glance, had to be somewhere between forty and sixty-five.
“Dr. Samantha Roberts,” John informed him as they watched the woman approach. “Transferred here from
Jack nodded mutely, wondering if that meant she had spent her life dissecting extraterrestrial children that had fallen through that damn rift in time and space. She looked nice enough, but what did that say about a person?
He looked nice enough himself.
Dr. Roberts had been instructed before, of course. John still led her to his office to talk to her about her duties in detail, with Jack trailing behind uninvited. She wasn’t particularly friendly, Jack noticed, his heart falling a little. It didn’t seem like the prisoner would get much love from his new doctor when she couldn’t even summon more than frosty politeness for her employer.
“I suppose you have studied his medical files?” John asked. She regarded him with her cool, emotionless gaze.
“Ever since I joined Torchwood,” she replied. “He is a fascinating subject. I am very grateful for the chance to finally study him in person.” Her face was completely blank.
“I’m sure.” John gave her a charming smile Jack knew to be false “He really is a fantastic alien to study. And a good toy.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“That’s not very scientific, Sir.”
“But fun,” John replied with a grin. “He is quite lovely to look at, you’ll see – the photos don’t do him justice. And his healing abilities are legendary, although they have lessened somewhat over the years. Most of his wounds disappear without even leaving a scar. And it’s possible to fuck him until he’s quite literally bleeding his insides out and two weeks later he’s as tight as a child again.”
Jack did his best not to wince. Dr. Roberts blinked slowly and asked in her emotionless voice, “Is that part of the research, Sir?”
John chuckled. “An exceptionally fun one.” He nodded. “You’ll get to see it all soon enough.”
“I can’t wait,” she replied.
Jack wondered if her refusal to be shocked was disappointing to his friend but once she had left the room John laughed.
“Lovely woman, don’t you think?” he asked Jack. “A bit stiff but I’m sure she’ll warm up to us, and our pet.”
Looked like the lady had passed the test.
“When do I get to see him again?” Jack wanted to know. “I’m pretty sure my vortex manipulator is not a lost cause and I’d like to leave this era behind sooner rather than later.”
John grimaced and picked up his phone, made a quick call to another department.
“He’s undergoing some tests right now. You can have him after that. And then, if he’s still not cooperating, we’ll see what he thinks of his new doctor.”
-
The Doctor’s tests lasted until the afternoon. They were taking place in another part of the complex and the two former time agents from the future arrived in his cell before he was brought back there.
After half an hour of waiting John got bored and decided to show Jack the laboratories and pick up their prisoner while they were at it. They had just arrived in the scientific complex, one level below the main base, when a door opened and two guards appeared, leading the Doctor between them. Once again his hands were cuffed and he looked even worse than the day before. In fact, he looked utterly miserable.
Jack doubted he had gotten any sleep this night.
The Time Lord was looking at them but didn’t react to their presence in any way. His steps were very slow, but steady. There was no recognition in his eyes when he looked at Jack.
Once again his long clothes covered any evidence of what had been done to him.
Stopping in front of him Jack noticed that he smelled of soap and that his hair was damp. He wondered if they always cleaned him afterwards or if this was a special service because Jack was there to see him.
John cheerfully told the armed guards what should have been obvious anyway: That they weren’t needed here. Jack and John would accompany the Doctor back to his cell and keep him company for a bit. The dirty grin appearing on the face of one of the men told Jack that he was definitely getting the wrong idea here and he felt the odd urge to defend himself against that wrong accusation.
The look of unease on the face of the other guard restored a little bit of Jack’s faith in humanity.
But not much, for despite his obvious disapproval, that man just watched and did nothing.
Like Jack himself.
“You remember Jack, don’t you?” John addressed the Time Lord, talking as if to a child. “He wants to spend some more time with you. I think he likes you.”
The Doctor looked like even keeping his hollow eyes on Jack was an effort. He swayed a little, opened his mouth as if to speak, then closed it again. He swallowed a few times, a hard, painful looking motion. When he tried again, his lips moved soundlessly, not even forming words. Even though he looked like he was on the verge of collapse and Jack should have seen it coming, it was just his reflexes that made him reach out in time and catch the Doctor before he fell to the floor.
He sank to his knees, not because of the other man’s weight but for the lack of it: It felt like holding clothes wrapped around a skeleton – the Time Lord was even more undernourished than Jack had thought.
“Fuck,” he cursed.
The Doctor blinked slowly, his gaze unfocused. He was breathing hard but not fast, trying to get as much oxygen into his lungs as possible. His skin was white and covered in a thin layer of sweat. (He had freckles.)
Jack felt sick.
Beside him John cursed as well, while in Jack’s arms, the Doctor’s breathing became irregular. A few seconds later someone crouched down beside him, shoving him around until they had proper access to the alien’s face. An oxygen mask was put over his mouth and nose just before his eyes rolled back and closed.
Jack saw small, dark hands and thought of Dr. Roberts, but when he looked up the face in front of him was young and marked with scars. A hard glare met his.
“Help me get him up there,” the young woman in the white clothes ordered, and gestured to the stretcher someone was rolling towards them. She kept the mask in place as Jack lifted the Doctor off the ground and placed him on the stretcher.
The nurse made him lay the Time Lord on his side, secured the oxygen mask, and with a last dark look at Jack and the others, she ordered her colleagues to roll the stretcher to the Doctor’s cell. She stayed close beside it, holding the man’s wrist and feeling his pulse even as they walked. Of all the nurses that accompanied the Doctor she seemed like the only one that was genuinely concerned for the ill alien. Jack wondered if this was Ianto Jones’ wife.
“Yes, that’s her,” John confirmed when Jack asked about her. “Those scars on her face were the Doctor’s doing, by the way.”
It was another thing that didn’t fit. Jack remembered John telling him something about ‘misguided gratitude’ the pair felt for the alien.
“What would have been the alternative?” he asked. John ignored his question, leading him further through the complex. From time to time he gave explanations about the equipment and staff, but Jack’s mind was elsewhere.
In the end they returned to the Doctor’s cell, but neither of them were surprised to find the alien still unconscious. Dr. Roberts was with him.
They arrived just when she was pulling his shirt down over his torso again; Jack caught no more than a brief glimpse of the Time Lord’s skin but it was enough to make him feel slightly sick. Most of his wounds healed without leaving a trace, John had said. Only the worst left permanent marks.
Well, forty years were long enough a time to collect such a number of scars…
The doctor gazed up at them dispassionately.
“He’s not going to talk to you today,” she announced. It didn’t surprise Jack very much but he grimaced anyway – every extra day he spent here was another day too long. Hopefully the Doctor would be too dazed and ill tomorrow to argue with him and just give him what he wanted. (One second later Jack felt guilty for thinking this.)
“What made him pass out in the first place?” John asked, an irritated frown on his face.
Roberts gestured to a few printed pieces of paper lying on the chair. “There’s the test report. From what I can tell without having been there I’d say it was a combination of pain, exhaustion and blood loss. He’s also running a very high fever and his heart rate is too fast and irregular. I can tell you more once I’ve analysed his blood.”
John snorted disapprovingly, staring at the still, pale Time Lord with a look of disdain on his face. Mrs. Jones was standing beside the doctor, refusing to even look in their direction, and Jack’s eyes were once again drawn to the scars on her face – large patches of pale skin on her temples and the sides of her chin. There were similar scars on her arms he noticed when she handed Dr. Roberts a syringe. When the doctor rolled up the alien’s sleeve and injected the greenish blue solution into his arm, her touch was unexpectedly gentle. Only now did Jack notice that the cuffs were gone. This was the first time he got to see the Doctor entirely without bonds.
His skin was so pale that Jack almost missed the scars there. He was distracted anyway, by the six, angry red dots, like injection marks, running in regular intervals down the underside of his forearm.
“What is that?” he asked.
Dr Roberts answered without looking up from her work. “Research.”
-
One hour later Jack went to the kitchen and was glad to see Ianto Jones sitting at one of the tables with a sandwich and a cup of coffee. John had excused himself, saying he had to call someone from the government today.
“Even Torchwood isn’t what it once was,” Jack’s old partner had complained. “Once we were outside the government, beyond the police. Technically we still are but we receive some of our funds from the Ministry of Defence and the damn minister keeps poking his nose into our business.”
Jack hadn’t been particularly unhappy to be rid of him. He’d tried to get back to the Doctor’s cell, see how he was doing, but the guards wouldn’t let him through. By the time he got hungry, he was bored and frustrated on top of it, and now happy to meet someone he didn’t feel obligated to despise.
“I met your wife today,” Jack said after grabbing a sandwich from the refrigerator and sitting next to Jones. “When I went to see the Doctor.”
“What did you want him for?” The other man sounded casual, but Jack detected a suspiciousness he didn’t like in his gaze.
“Just talk.” He shrugged, pretending not to notice. “You see, I have this bit of technology. Harmless technology, I have to add. A travelling device. But it’s broken and I wanted to see if he could fix it. He doesn’t trust me, though. Not that I blame him,” he added after a second, his voice sympathetic. “Poor guy. I can’t believe anyone deserves to be treated this way.”
Jones’ expression softened. “He doesn’t, in any case. How is he?”
Jack sighed, hoping it didn’t seem exaggerated. “Not so good. He collapsed before I could talk to him. He’s resting now. That’s how I met your wife.” He hesitated a calculated moment. “Those scars on her face… the General said the Doctor caused them. But I just can’t believe that!” Inwardly he winced. He was overdoing it, wasn’t he? But Jones didn’t seem to see through his act, fortunately. Jack needed to win his trust, make him see he was on the Doctor’s side. If Jones convinced his wife that Jack was a decent guy who meant the Doctor no harm, the nurse might tell the Doctor, giving Jack a chance to get through his defences.
To his surprise, Jones shook his head.
“It was him,” he said. “Lisa and me, we both worked for Torchwood One when it still existed. During the Battle of Canary Warf Lisa was taken by the Cybermen.”
Jack winced. “They tried to convert her,” he realised. Ianto nodded.
“I got her out before the process was complete, but she’d already partially been turned into one of them. With the technology the Cybermen left behind, we could keep her alive but there was no changing her back. Until the Doctor was brought here. He saw her and insisted on helping. Needed about half a day to get rid of the transplants. Without him, she’d have metal in the place of those scars, if she was still alive.”
Jack found himself smiling, a little bitterly. After all he’d seen this sounded like something the Doctor would do.
“I think for the General it was some kind of test to see if the Doctor would really help her,” Ianto added. “She was expendable, after all.” He didn’t seem to like John very much.
“No wonder the two of you are so fond of him,” Jack stated.
Ianto sighed. “Everyone here should be. He didn’t save only her but all of us. He was the one who defeated the Cybermen, and the Daleks, years before he saved Lisa.”
Jack lifted his eyebrows. Ianto understood the question and explained:
“You know he’s a time traveller. The Daleks he defeated before he was captured by Torchwood, while somewhere else an older version of him had been locked away for decades.” His eyes were sad, suddenly. “I didn’t know that, then, when I saw him save the world for the first time. I’m not even sure Yvonne, our leader, did. Torchwood Two tended to keep things to themselves a lot, and unimportant people like us were never told anything anyway.” He finished his sandwich. “You know, when they moved in here and I saw him again… He doesn’t age but I knew immediately that a lot of time had passed for him since I last saw him. He was so…” The young man stopped, not finding the words. Jack understood anyway.
“Why doesn’t Lisa let her scars be removed?” he changed the topic, hoping he wasn’t rude. “It should be possible to make them at least a lot less obvious.”
“She wants to keep them,” Ianto told him. “A least while she works here. As a reminder to everyone of what the Doctor has done for her. She wants new co-workers to ask her about her scars so she can tell her story. But they usually ask someone else first.”
And Jack could pretty much imagine what they were told then.
“Why does everyone hate the Doctor so much if he’s such a great guy?” he wondered aloud.
“Why else?” Ianto snorted. “Because our leaders want them to. They want to keep him locked in here and if everyone knew the truth they might have doubts about that.”
“But the two of you, you know. Doesn’t the General mind if you try to convince everyone?”
Ianto hesitated, staring into his cup thoughtfully.
“He tolerates it because no one listens to us anyway,” he finally said, but Jack could see there was more to it. He thought of John and his homicidal tendencies. A quick look around told him they were alone in the large kitchen.
“Maybe you should find a job somewhere else,” he said quietly. Ianto gave him a half smile.
“The Doctor said the same, to Lisa. Get out before the General decides to kill us and blame him for it. But if we left he’d probably kill us anyway, or at least erase our memories. No one leaves Torchwood that easily.”
It made sense to Jack – top-secret organisations didn’t let anyone just walk out on them.
“Our best option,” Ianto continued, “is to wait and hope the General gets replaced before he gets tired of us.”
-
Secretly Jack agreed: John needed to be removed from his position of power. He’d been dangerous enough when he was just a normal guy with a gun and a vortex manipulator.
They met again in the evening, and even while they had sex in a storage room Jack wondered if his old friend really wanted to go home as badly as he did. The other man kept going on about the various projects he had running, plans he had made here, and things he would do if he ever got the Doctor to fix that Kryk-weapon for him. Someone who was about to leave forever wouldn’t talk like that. It was okay for Jack, though. The more time he spent with John the less sad he felt about leaving him behind.
What bothered him most was John’s idea that once Jack had won over the Doctor and made him fix the vortex manipulator he could maybe make him fix a number of other things. Pretend they were harmless, tools to help rather than destroy. The Doctor liked things like that, like every insane, dangerous killer-alien would, Jack thought sourly.
He was supposed to win the Doctor’s trust and then use him. Since Jack’s entire career as a conman had been built on the betrayal of trust, he didn’t understand why the idea made him feel so uncomfortable now. Maybe it was the fact that John was trying to use him to get what he wanted, but then Jack usually didn’t mind being used, as long as he got something out of it himself.
To keep John (and himself) from thinking he was getting soft, he kept his thoughts to himself. But he wasn’t sad when his former partner chose to spend tonight somewhere else. This time Jack spent the entire night rolling from one side to the other, not just the better part of it. He kept thinking of Ianto and Lisa and the danger they were in. The danger everyone was in as long as John had his finger on the metaphorical red button.
Most of all he was thinking of the Doctor. Jack felt more sorry for the alien than he had any right to, but every time he tried to concentrate on something else (like falling asleep) he ended up wondering if the Time Lord had woken up yet, and if, for once, they would leave him alone.
He hoped so. After all, both he and John wanted the Doctor to be alert enough for a conversation tomorrow.
A part of Jack was almost hoping he wouldn’t be able to convince the prisoner of his good intentions because he knew he’d feel bad for betraying this man who must have been betrayed so many times before. (He also knew he’d go through with it anyway.) But mostly he was glad that he was supposed to win the Doctor’s trust, as winning his trust meant he wouldn’t be asked to torture him.
When the sun finally began to rise, Jack fell into a restless slumber, with his sub-consciousness trying to figure out how to help the prisoner, even a little. Jack woke up less than two hours later, tired and grumpy, his head full of ideas that made no sense.
-
He met Dr. Roberts in the hall. She was just about to leave, and one look at her tired face told Jack that she had stayed with the Doctor all night. Dedicated to her work, at least. He kept himself from asking what she had done there all the time.
Instead he asked about the Doctor’s condition.
“I gave him something to keep him asleep all night,” she answered in a firm and icy tone that didn’t go along with her heavy eyelids. “He’ll wake up soon, and be well enough to speak to you. If there’s any problem with his health, call me. I’ll be upstairs.” Without a second glance she walked away.
When Jack arrived at John’s office he found it deserted. For half an hour he killed the time trying to sort though his drawers and finding them all locked. Really, how paranoid could one man be?
When John finally showed up he had little time for conversation.
“I just received a call – the Doctor is awake and probably eager to see you. Unfortunately there’s someone else who wants to see him first. It won’t take long, I hope.” He grimaced. “Once Mister Important had the decency to show up here, of course.”
“Who is it?” He had to be fairly important if John waited for him despite his obvious dislike.
“Some guy from the government.” John shrugged, indicating that he didn’t really care. “He’ll be here in about forty minutes.”
-
The man from the government arrived one hour later, as if to show he was important enough to make them wait. He was.
When John had talked about ‘some guy’, Jack hadn’t suspected he’d mean the Minister of Defence and assumed next Prime Minister. He strode into the office unannounced, with a smile and his hands in his pockets, flanked by two bodyguards in black suits.
“Sorry to make you wait,” he greeted them cheerfully. “You know how it is: Things to take care of. Matters of the state. I won’t bore you with them.” He offered his had for John to shake, then for Jack. His grip was firm, strong, but not too strong, his skin cool. Jack grinned at him.
“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Saxon,” he said. “You look fabulous in that suit.”
“Yes, I know!” The Minister beamed back. “No need to flatter me. It’s enough if you just give me your vote.”
“I would, if I was actually registered as a citizen,” Jack said, reluctantly releasing the other’s hand. To his own surprise he found that it was true: He had little interest in British politics and since he wasn’t able to vote anywhere in the world, he never had to think about things like that anyway, but standing in front of this man Jack knew he would indeed have voted for him. He was charismatic and sharp, and what Jack knew about his political agenda made a lot of sense. He found himself hoping the man would make it. He could do the country a lot of good.
Also, he looked hot in a suit.
John cleared his throat, breaking the moment.
No one invited Jack to come along but neither was he stopped when he did. Saxon’s bodyguards, on the other hand, had to stay behind in the hall. As they neared the Doctor’s cell Jack asked what the politician wanted with the alien.
“Just see him, that’s all,” he was told. “I’ve been curious about this one for a long time. And, you know, I’ll probably be too busy to come here after the election.”
Jack actually found some sympathy for the poor man in his heart before he noticed that they were treating the Doctor like an animal in a zoo.
The impression was only strengthened when they passed the door to the cell without stopping and walked on until they reached another room. This room had a door just a heavy, but they entered a chamber just beside it, which was small and dark and had a window to the neighbouring room. One-sided, Jack assumed. They could see the Doctor, sitting there on the single, uncomfortable chair, but he couldn’t see them. An animal on display. Jack could only hope they didn’t have any performance planned for their guest.
The minister had never been to meet the alien in person. Jack could tell because there were no handcuffs this time, and no armed guards. Just the chair and the hard floor and long white sleeves falling to the knuckles of the prisoner’s hands. A turtleneck shirt, as usual, hiding his neck.
The Doctor was slumped in his chair as if sitting straight was too much of an effort. He didn’t look tense, though, just tired, like a man using a short break from work to get some rest. Jack wondered if anyone else could be in his position and portray anything but fear.
When they came in, however, the Time Lord sharply lifted his head. All remaining colour drained from his already pale face as he stared at what for him would be a mirror. His lips moved soundlessly.
He shook his head, slightly, as if in denial.
Saxon stared back, utterly still. The smile was gone from his face, his eyes. In the light falling in through the window, he looked like a different person.
The Doctor rose from his chair.
“He can’t see us, can he?” Jack asked, for he couldn’t explain why the Doctor seemed to stare directly at the man standing beside him. John looked equally puzzled.
“No,” he said. “Can’t hear us either.”
The Doctor didn’t pay any attention to them – which shouldn’t have been possible for him anyway. His gaze remained fixed on Saxon, and then he was standing right in front of them, kept away only by a plane of glass that all of a sudden seemed incredibly thin.
After a second Jack remembered how to breathe, and that this man was no danger to them. There’d be no reason to fear him even if he was not locked away in another room, and still Jack did, for one second he did. In this moment, for the first time since Jack had met him, the Doctor seemed incredible alien. Incomprehensible and powerful.
‘We can’t keep him here,’ Jack thought, fighting panic. ‘We’re all going to pay if we do.’
There was no logic to this thought but the impression lingered. It rooted him to the spot, paralyzed him as the Doctor lifted his hand and pressed it against the glass so that Jack could see the thin scars running across the palm. Out of the corner of is eye Jack noticed John stumbling half a step backwards, his face pale. He felt it too.
Saxon lifted his own hand and pressed it against the Doctor’s. Palm to palm, with only the window between them. Look but don’t touch. Time stopped.
Then the emotions rushed back into the Doctors eyes. So many different feelings and the only one Jack could put a name to was naked desperation. His legs gave way and his hand slipped away from the glass as he fell to the floor. Out of sight, just beneath the window.
“What the hell was that?” John cursed.
“Oh,” Saxon said, sounding genuinely upset. “He fainted, the poor thing. I seem to have that effect on people. My apologizes – I hope he’s not badly damaged.”
“So do I,” John growled. “Torchwood has some work to do, and that’s impossible if he’s out of order all the time.” He activated the little device put over his right ear and ordered a medical team to the interrogation room. When he was done, the politician was already at the door.
“That was most interesting,” he said. “But as much as I’d love to stay a little longer, my duties call me back to the ministry. If you’ll show me the way out –”
There were a thousand questions Jack wanted to ask but none of them came out his lips on the long walk back through the corridors. At some point they met Dr. Roberts, who looked like she’d fallen out of bed just two minutes ago. Saxon greeted her with a smile and a little bow. She had nothing but an irritated glare to give him as she rushed past.
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(Anonymous) 2008-07-26 04:42 am (UTC)(link)plingo_kat (because I just really don't want to log in.)
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I'm dying to find out who ends up saving the Doctor from John, well, if anyone does, this is the queen of darkness writing!
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He shook his head, slightly, as if in denial.
Saxon stared back, utterly still. The smile was gone from his face, his eyes. In the light falling in through the window, he looked like a different person.
I still can't believe it's the Master!! You totally threw me for a loop when I read that!
I love the gradual changes in Jack. He's facing a serious internal battle over what to do about the Doctor, and how much he's going to risk to intervene (or if he'll even bother intervening). It's a very realistic look at a character that is growing and changing.
I still want John to die. :P Yes, I'm predictable.
As always, thank you for sharing! I'm thoroughly enjoying this story and hope the Doctor gets some relief soon.
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Now it's getting really tough O___O Poor Doc. I wonder where this is all going!
"He had saved the world. He was keeping to his morals despite the suffering it brought him."
Oh, so Doctor! And I loved it how scared Jack was all of a sudden.
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'...when he was just a normal guy with a gun and a vortex manipulator.' That line made me snort...
Typo - 'crumpled', not 'crumbled'.
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