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wintercompanion2007-08-15 05:52 pm
sarkywoman.livejournal.com) wrote in wintercompanion2007-08-15 05:52 pm
Entry tags:
Fic!
Title: Being Second-Best
Author: Sarkywoman
Prompt used: Behind lj-cut because it's spoileriffic.
Rating: PG
Spoilers/warnings: Utopia, Sound of Drums, Last of the Time Lords. Alcohol use.
Summary: Jack gets angry, then drunk, then feels sorry for himself, then feels sorry for the Doctor.
Being Second-Best
PROMPT: See, what Jack did wrong was he didn't steal the Tardis, kill a billion people, and cage the Doctor. If he had, the Doctor might have been as cut up over what happened to him as he was over the Master. Angry!Jack/Ten confrontation.
On the first day, when the Master’s body wasn’t even cold yet, Jack had felt an empty sort of ache. For the past year he had thought of nothing but saving the Doctor and getting revenge on the Master. Now the Master was gone. The Doctor was safe. But it wasn’t nearly as satisfying as he’d expected. How could it be when the Doctor mourned their victory instead of celebrating it? For Jack, it was like watching the Princess cry over the Wicked Witch in some screwed-up fairytale. But on that first day, Jack could only feel sorry for the Doctor, now truly the last of his kind.
It was the next day that the anger set in. The Doctor was pretending he was fine and all the bystanders of this particular galactic event were trying to get back to their lives – in short, everything was pretty much back to usual. Except Jack had a year’s worth of agonising torture in his head.
When the Doctor offered Jack another go in the Tardis, the Captain wondered if perhaps the Doctor could see the inner pain and wanted to make it better. But as soon as he’d thought it, he knew it was wishful thinking. The Doc was just grasping blindly at people to try and fill the gaping void left in his hearts by the Master. It was all about the Timelords, the Doctor and the Master. The Doctor just wanted to kid himself that he was passing time until a reunion with his true love, but the Master would never return.
So Jack refused the offer. Politely and cheerfully declined as though his work was more important than journeying through space and time with the love of his eternal life. The truth was, he couldn’t bear to be with the Doctor now, knowing that he wasn’t just second-best, he was in a different league. He could be the best of humanity, could absorb knowledge over the next few centuries, live forever, adore the Doctor like no-one else, but at the end of the day Jack could still only hope to attain the ‘Best Human’ award. Assuming he could ever get more points than Rose, of course. The Doctor would still drop them both like empty wrappers if the Master came back.
For a week he threw himself into work. Buried himself in paperwork when there were no death-defying fight scenes to be had. He knew he wasn’t fooling anyone though. The only reason his team weren’t asking him if he was alright was because he was getting through their work as well as his own. Nobody wanted to complain if it meant extra hours.
But it all fell through by the second week after he’d left the Doctor. He’d been filling out a weapons requisition form at four in the morning when he snapped and threw his pen at the wall in a fit of rage. How was life fair? How?!? The Master killed billions and stole the Tardis and hurt the Doctor, but just because he had two heartbeats, it didn’t seem to matter! And Jack had seen more than he’d wanted to in his life, more than he should have to live through, suffered horribly at the Master’s hands, but because he was made immortal by a silly girl with Timelord powers, he got abandoned and neglected.
Jack scrunched up the form into a ball and threw it into the bin. He grabbed his coat and walked out, ignoring the queries of his teammates. He needed a drink so bad he could taste it.
*
Captain Jack Harkness was still a relative stranger to rejection. It had happened a few times, some people were immune to his charms, but it was an infrequent occurrence to say the least. He’d never dreamed before he met the Doctor that he would end up falling in love with someone unattainable. He’d never thought there was really such thing as unattainable.
Then he’d met the Doctor. It hadn’t been love at first sight. Intrigue, maybe. Whatever it was, it developed quickly into desire. And maybe it was just Jack’s subconscious masochistic tendencies, but as soon as he realised he couldn’t sate the lust he felt for the Doctor, desire became love. We always want most what we can’t have.
Jack swigged again, aware that the ease with which the vodka went down meant he’d had more than enough. What did it matter? He’d call in sick tomorrow. Nobody would be fooled, but he doubted they’d pry too obviously. He needed this night of letting-go. It was impossible to really stay angry at the Doctor. And if he couldn’t get angry at him for indirectly making him immortal then abandoning him and eventually getting him tortured to death repeatedly by his Timelord honey-bunny, what the fuck could make him angry?
Alcohol helped. It dulled his empathy to the point that he could say what he wanted to people without noticing it hurt them. He’d always meant to take the Doctor out on the club scene, buy him that promised drink, then get completely hammered and see if he could vent his feelings.
The problem with the Doctor of course, Jack laughed bitterly to himself as he gulped more of the clear liquid, was that emotionally he was so alien. So distant and cold. The laughter and the quirkiness were just to hide the total absence of human feeling inside. That was the only explanation he could come up with. That was why the psychotic Master got mourning privileges and Jack got killed over and over without the slightest care. Because Timelords were better, weren’t they? Timelords had two hearts, could travel eternity and carried stupid weapons – who fought with a screwdriver, for fuck’s sake?!?
Jack slammed the bottle down on the table. Well, that was his intention, but he missed and he just ended up with vodka all over his floor. He kicked it across the room angrily and grabbed his coat. Fresh air. That was what he needed.
And the mini-bottles of Smirnoff that could fit in his pockets.
*
Groaning as his sore throat battled his headache for the ‘most achy ache’ award, Jack reached out blindly for his clock. He reached further and further until he toppled out of bed, tangled in sheets that did nothing to cushion his back from the unforgiving metal floor.
His eyes shot open. Metal floor? Oh no…
Now he was looking up at the ceiling, he knew immediately that he was not in Kansas anymore. Once again he found himself on the Tardis but this time, he had absolutely no idea how he’d gotten here.
Stumbling out of his room with the sheet wrapped around his waist, Jack went to the console room in search of the only reason he’d dream of returning to this. Sure enough, the Doctor sat in a chair close to the central panel. He noticed Jack’s presence and smiled up at him.
“Sleep well?” the Doctor asked sincerely. Jack noticed that the Doctor’s eyes were slightly red, as though he’d been crying. This was unlikely, unless he’d been thinking of the damn Master again.
“Yeah, but now I’m a bit hung-over. I, uh, don’t remember getting on board.”
“I carried you, mostly,” explained the Doc.
“Oh.” Jack ran a hand back through his hair awkwardly. “Well, can you drop me back home? I’ve got things to do.”
The Doctor nodded. “Of course you have. I’ll whiz you back just after I’ve dealt with the Xaan uprising. I’ll take you back to the moment we left, don’t worry about lost time.”
Jack laughed. “I’ve got all the time in the Universe, you know that.”
The Doctor smiled again, but it was weak. Either something had happened recently, or the Doctor was still suffering badly over the loss of the Master. Jack stepped forward and put a hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay?”
Nodding, the Doctor shook his hand off. “Fine. Shouldn’t you put some clothes on?”
Jack looked down at the sheet and sighed. “I suppose so. Where are my clothes?”
The Doctor raised his eyebrows. “How would I know? They’ll be wherever you dropped them. In your room, I hope.”
Jack grinned cheekily. “Aw, here I was hoping you’d put me to bed.”
“No.”
Jack felt that was a very abrupt end to the conversation, but was willing to put off further teasing until he’d found his pants. He went back to his room, finding his clothes scattered all over the place. One of his shoes was on the desk and a sock was on the lamp. There was no way he could have done this by accident. No doubt about it, drunk-Jack intentionally caused problems for sober-Jack, probably blaming him for all of life’s little problems.
Jack approached the console room fully dressed, only to find the Doctor halfway out the door.
“You going somewhere?”
The Doctor stopped and glanced back at Jack, looking a little awkward at having been caught. “Just going to deal with the Xaan. You rest off that hangover and I’ll be back before you know it.”
Jack grabbed his coat off a nearby chair. “I’ll go with you.”
The Doctor shook his head and firmly said, “No. You wait here. The Xaan would probably love an immortal toy. I’ll be right back.”
Then he was gone. But at least being in the Tardis meant Jack could be certain he wasn’t about to be abandoned. The Doctor seemed like he wanted to be near Jack as little as possible, was it still the Immortal thing?
Jack kicked a chair as he felt another surge of fury. The chair was lighter than it looked and flew across the room, smashing into the control panel. Jack ran over, panicked as though he’d hit a person. “Shit, I’m sorry, Tardis!”
He stroked the buttons and levers as he’d seen the Doctor do on multiple occasions. “I’m really sorry. I’m just mad at the Doctor. Last time I saw him after all that crap with the Master, he was like, ‘come travel on the Tardis with me’, and now I’m here he can’t get far enough away from me.”
Jack sighed, still absently stroking the sentient machine. “Don’t tell him this, okay, but I’d do anything to make him happy. I know he’s been in here crying about the Master and I would do anything to know how to comfort him. But I can tell from the way he’s spoken to me this morning that he doesn’t really want me here. God knows why he picked me up in the first place.”
When a quiet whirring started, Jack stilled his hand, immediately thinking he must have pressed something. Then one of the walls slid aside slightly to show a television-like screen. It was dark for a moment, then a picture appeared. Jack walked over to get a closer look and saw he was looking at the inside of the Tardis. “What is this, security footage?” he asked, but received no reply.
There was a noise on the screen that sounded like the opening and closing of the door, then the Doctor came into view, supporting Jack’s stumbling form. Jack cringed at the sight of his own embarrassing drunkenness. The Doctor helped him over into the chair that Jack had recently kicked across the Tardis and took his coat.
~What’s the occasion?~ the Doctor asked, stepping back to take a good look at his intoxicated guest.
~What day is it?~ Jack slurred.
~Tuesday, I think.~
~Then I’m celebrating Tuesday. Yeah, go Tuesday!~ Jack punched the air.
The Doctor laughed a little. ~I’m not sure whether I should be worried or not.~
~Worried about me?~ In the here-and-now, Jack winced at the bitterness in the question. The Doctor hadn’t found him at the best of moments. ~Don’t be stupid. Why would you start worrying about me now?~
The Doctor frowned at him, clearly confused by Jack’s question. ~I’ve always worried about you Jack. You’re my friend.~
~Yeah, as much as a human can be, right?~ Watching the film, Jack felt a sudden vague unease. He knew something bad had happened, or he’d done something or said something. He just couldn’t remember what it was, only that it was on its way.
~What do you mean? I love humans.~
~And I love monkeys, but I wouldn’t fuck one~ Jack retorted.
~Oh Jack, are we back on this?~ the Doctor asked, looking exasperated. ~I’ve told you, it’s not you. I just don’t have a sexual relationship with my travelling companions. It makes it easier in the long run.~
~It makes things a lot more difficult in the eternal run. But don’t worry, it’s okay, I get it. You don’t want to fuck with humans, even an immortal one, because they’re not up to your standards. That’s fine, it’s cool.~
~It is not fine!~ Now the Doctor looked furious. ~Is that what you think of me, that I’m some sort of elitist who’s repulsed by the people he tries to protect?~
~You’re repulsed by me.~
~I was bothered by your immortality at first, but I’m over that now, in case you hadn’t noticed.~
~Then why don’t you want me?~
~I never said I didn’t want you~ the Doctor said quietly.
But instead of feeling the amazement that present-Jack experienced at the Doctor’s words, the drunk Jack on the screen just got even more vexed. ~Then take me! If you want me, you can have me!~
~It’s against my principles.~
~It wouldn’t be if I had two hearts.~
There was total silence for a few moments before the Doctor spoke coldly. ~And what is that supposed to mean?~
~You know damn well what it means. If I was a Timelord, no, if I was the Master, then you’d be on me like a fat lady on cake.~
The Doctor turned his back. ~I’m not talking to you while you’re like this. We can talk more in the morning.~
~Bullshit. This isn’t because I’m drunk, you’re leaving because I said the ‘M’ word. Master.~ Jack slapped a hand over his mouth in false shock. ~Oh no, I said it again! Master. And again!~
~Stop it, Jack. Just go to bed.~
~Like a good little human.~ Jack stood out of his chair, swaying slightly. ~I’ve got news for you, Doc. Us inferior little humans are all you’ve got now, so you’re gonna have to get used to it.~
~Jack…~
~The Master’s dead! And he never fucking deserved your love in the first place!~
The Doctor still had his back turned to last night’s Jack, but from the camera angle current-Jack could see his tears. ~Jack~ he whispered ~just go to bed. Please.~
~You couldn’t see anything but him, could you? You still can’t. You ever thought it might be nice to ask how I’m feeling? I’ve only slept three times in the past fortnight and every time I’ve woken up screaming.~
The Doctor rubbed at his eyes then turned back to Jack. ~I’m sorry. I know I’ve been selfish. But please can we talk about this tomorrow?~
~Yeah. Sure. And with any luck I’ll be too awkward to bring this up tomorrow and you can go ahead pretend I didn’t say anything, right?~
~Oh, I don’t think I can pretend I didn’t hear this.~
~And now it’s my fault for bringing all this up. Now I’m the bastard who won’t let you mourn at your own pace, who intrudes on your solitude…~
~I don’t want solitude, Jack. And…~ the Doctor seemed to struggle here, ~I didn’t know you felt this way. You should have told me, not bottled it all up to attack me with when I’m just trying to help. Is there anything else you want to get off your chest?~
Jack stared at the Doctor with the unmistakable scrutiny of the truly intoxicated. ~I’m glad he’s dead. He’d never have loved you like I do.~
The Doctor closed his eyes and sighed. ~Are you done?~
Jack stepped forward and kissed the Doctor in a surprisingly chaste way. ~I’m done.~ Then he walked off screen, probably going to bed.
The screen went blank and the wall slid back to cover it. Jack then banged his head against it. Stupid, stupid, stupid! To actually tell the Doctor he was glad about the Master’s death… he couldn’t believe he’d been that stupid. No wonder the Doctor was pissed off with him.
The door to the Tardis opened and the Doctor wandered in, looking more cheerful than he had before and carrying a small box. Jack couldn’t find the adequate words for an apology, but the Doctor started talking anyway.
“Wasn’t much of a rebellion in the end. I took the restraints off the Princess and she dealt with the traitors. Bit more bloodshed than I’d like, but this is Xaan. I saved you some lochatha.”
“Huh?” The confused sound that came from his mouth didn’t sound like the eloquent apology he’d planned.
“Lochatha. It’s a Xaan delicacy. The Princess held a celebratory banquet, despite the anticlimax of the rescue. I didn’t stay, because I knew you were waiting to go home, but Xaansha insisted I take some food. I think you’ll like it.”
Jack took the offered box and opened it up. “It looks like mold,” he said cynically, telling his brain to just shut up because he wasn’t ready to apologise yet.
“Just try some,” the Doctor encouraged as he darted around, starting up the Tardis.
Jack took a deep breath then popped some of the greenish stuff into his mouth. He winced before actually tasting it. Then his eyes widened and he shoved more of the strange-looking substance into his mouth. “Doc, this is delicious!” he said around a mouthful.
The Doctor smiled at him as the Tardis moved. “Glad to hear it. Hopefully it’s one small step towards me making a semi-acceptable apology for being a complete arse.”
Jack stared in disbelief. “You? No, Doc, no. I’ve been a total dick. I remember what happened last night and I was way out of order. I didn’t mean any of that stuff.”
“You meant every word,” the Doctor said with a piercing stare.
Jack sighed because it was true. He had meant it all, that’s why it felt so bad to have said it. “I guess this means you’re retracting that room on the Tardis offer.”
“Hardly. You were right to tell me how you feel. I lose sight of important things sometimes, I know that. I don’t mean to be…” the Doctor waved a hand, “self-obsessed, but sometimes I get caught up in my thoughts.”
Jack finished his mouthful of Lochatha. “No, Doc, no. I was way out of line. You’re allowed to hurt, I mean, you loved him. I know you did.”
“I still do,” the Doctor said, looking at the floor, away from Jack’s eyes. “But he’s gone now. What’s important now is looking after the people I let him hurt.” He looked up at Jack again and smiled wearily. “How are you?”
“I…” Jack faltered, feeling increasingly ashamed of his drunken outburst. “I’m fine.”
The Doctor shook his head. “No, you’re not. You mentioned nightmares, may I?” He gestured to Jack’s head and waited for the Captain’s nod before reaching out psychically.
Jack felt suddenly like he was in the year that never was, pain searing down his body, despair setting in, making him mad with fury and the need for revenge. Then it left and he was kneeling in the Tardis and he was shaking. The Doctor was holding him tightly, murmuring soothing words into his ear.
“I’m so sorry, Jack, I didn’t know how bad it was, I’m so sorry. Sssh, I’ll fix it, I promise. I can make the pain go away.”
And Jack realised that he was exactly what he’d tried to avoid being. He was a substitute for the Master, someone for the Doctor to keep and heal. Jack’s anger was like the Master’s drums, his resentment of the situation driving him slowly insane. And the Doctor would help him the way he wasn’t able to help the Master.
Jack was about to protest, to point out what was going on in case the Doctor really couldn’t see it. But then the Doctor kissed him and Jack decided maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to be second-best. After all, in the absence of the winner, the runner-up got the prize.
Author: Sarkywoman
Prompt used: Behind lj-cut because it's spoileriffic.
Rating: PG
Spoilers/warnings: Utopia, Sound of Drums, Last of the Time Lords. Alcohol use.
Summary: Jack gets angry, then drunk, then feels sorry for himself, then feels sorry for the Doctor.
Being Second-Best
PROMPT: See, what Jack did wrong was he didn't steal the Tardis, kill a billion people, and cage the Doctor. If he had, the Doctor might have been as cut up over what happened to him as he was over the Master. Angry!Jack/Ten confrontation.
On the first day, when the Master’s body wasn’t even cold yet, Jack had felt an empty sort of ache. For the past year he had thought of nothing but saving the Doctor and getting revenge on the Master. Now the Master was gone. The Doctor was safe. But it wasn’t nearly as satisfying as he’d expected. How could it be when the Doctor mourned their victory instead of celebrating it? For Jack, it was like watching the Princess cry over the Wicked Witch in some screwed-up fairytale. But on that first day, Jack could only feel sorry for the Doctor, now truly the last of his kind.
It was the next day that the anger set in. The Doctor was pretending he was fine and all the bystanders of this particular galactic event were trying to get back to their lives – in short, everything was pretty much back to usual. Except Jack had a year’s worth of agonising torture in his head.
When the Doctor offered Jack another go in the Tardis, the Captain wondered if perhaps the Doctor could see the inner pain and wanted to make it better. But as soon as he’d thought it, he knew it was wishful thinking. The Doc was just grasping blindly at people to try and fill the gaping void left in his hearts by the Master. It was all about the Timelords, the Doctor and the Master. The Doctor just wanted to kid himself that he was passing time until a reunion with his true love, but the Master would never return.
So Jack refused the offer. Politely and cheerfully declined as though his work was more important than journeying through space and time with the love of his eternal life. The truth was, he couldn’t bear to be with the Doctor now, knowing that he wasn’t just second-best, he was in a different league. He could be the best of humanity, could absorb knowledge over the next few centuries, live forever, adore the Doctor like no-one else, but at the end of the day Jack could still only hope to attain the ‘Best Human’ award. Assuming he could ever get more points than Rose, of course. The Doctor would still drop them both like empty wrappers if the Master came back.
For a week he threw himself into work. Buried himself in paperwork when there were no death-defying fight scenes to be had. He knew he wasn’t fooling anyone though. The only reason his team weren’t asking him if he was alright was because he was getting through their work as well as his own. Nobody wanted to complain if it meant extra hours.
But it all fell through by the second week after he’d left the Doctor. He’d been filling out a weapons requisition form at four in the morning when he snapped and threw his pen at the wall in a fit of rage. How was life fair? How?!? The Master killed billions and stole the Tardis and hurt the Doctor, but just because he had two heartbeats, it didn’t seem to matter! And Jack had seen more than he’d wanted to in his life, more than he should have to live through, suffered horribly at the Master’s hands, but because he was made immortal by a silly girl with Timelord powers, he got abandoned and neglected.
Jack scrunched up the form into a ball and threw it into the bin. He grabbed his coat and walked out, ignoring the queries of his teammates. He needed a drink so bad he could taste it.
*
Captain Jack Harkness was still a relative stranger to rejection. It had happened a few times, some people were immune to his charms, but it was an infrequent occurrence to say the least. He’d never dreamed before he met the Doctor that he would end up falling in love with someone unattainable. He’d never thought there was really such thing as unattainable.
Then he’d met the Doctor. It hadn’t been love at first sight. Intrigue, maybe. Whatever it was, it developed quickly into desire. And maybe it was just Jack’s subconscious masochistic tendencies, but as soon as he realised he couldn’t sate the lust he felt for the Doctor, desire became love. We always want most what we can’t have.
Jack swigged again, aware that the ease with which the vodka went down meant he’d had more than enough. What did it matter? He’d call in sick tomorrow. Nobody would be fooled, but he doubted they’d pry too obviously. He needed this night of letting-go. It was impossible to really stay angry at the Doctor. And if he couldn’t get angry at him for indirectly making him immortal then abandoning him and eventually getting him tortured to death repeatedly by his Timelord honey-bunny, what the fuck could make him angry?
Alcohol helped. It dulled his empathy to the point that he could say what he wanted to people without noticing it hurt them. He’d always meant to take the Doctor out on the club scene, buy him that promised drink, then get completely hammered and see if he could vent his feelings.
The problem with the Doctor of course, Jack laughed bitterly to himself as he gulped more of the clear liquid, was that emotionally he was so alien. So distant and cold. The laughter and the quirkiness were just to hide the total absence of human feeling inside. That was the only explanation he could come up with. That was why the psychotic Master got mourning privileges and Jack got killed over and over without the slightest care. Because Timelords were better, weren’t they? Timelords had two hearts, could travel eternity and carried stupid weapons – who fought with a screwdriver, for fuck’s sake?!?
Jack slammed the bottle down on the table. Well, that was his intention, but he missed and he just ended up with vodka all over his floor. He kicked it across the room angrily and grabbed his coat. Fresh air. That was what he needed.
And the mini-bottles of Smirnoff that could fit in his pockets.
*
Groaning as his sore throat battled his headache for the ‘most achy ache’ award, Jack reached out blindly for his clock. He reached further and further until he toppled out of bed, tangled in sheets that did nothing to cushion his back from the unforgiving metal floor.
His eyes shot open. Metal floor? Oh no…
Now he was looking up at the ceiling, he knew immediately that he was not in Kansas anymore. Once again he found himself on the Tardis but this time, he had absolutely no idea how he’d gotten here.
Stumbling out of his room with the sheet wrapped around his waist, Jack went to the console room in search of the only reason he’d dream of returning to this. Sure enough, the Doctor sat in a chair close to the central panel. He noticed Jack’s presence and smiled up at him.
“Sleep well?” the Doctor asked sincerely. Jack noticed that the Doctor’s eyes were slightly red, as though he’d been crying. This was unlikely, unless he’d been thinking of the damn Master again.
“Yeah, but now I’m a bit hung-over. I, uh, don’t remember getting on board.”
“I carried you, mostly,” explained the Doc.
“Oh.” Jack ran a hand back through his hair awkwardly. “Well, can you drop me back home? I’ve got things to do.”
The Doctor nodded. “Of course you have. I’ll whiz you back just after I’ve dealt with the Xaan uprising. I’ll take you back to the moment we left, don’t worry about lost time.”
Jack laughed. “I’ve got all the time in the Universe, you know that.”
The Doctor smiled again, but it was weak. Either something had happened recently, or the Doctor was still suffering badly over the loss of the Master. Jack stepped forward and put a hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay?”
Nodding, the Doctor shook his hand off. “Fine. Shouldn’t you put some clothes on?”
Jack looked down at the sheet and sighed. “I suppose so. Where are my clothes?”
The Doctor raised his eyebrows. “How would I know? They’ll be wherever you dropped them. In your room, I hope.”
Jack grinned cheekily. “Aw, here I was hoping you’d put me to bed.”
“No.”
Jack felt that was a very abrupt end to the conversation, but was willing to put off further teasing until he’d found his pants. He went back to his room, finding his clothes scattered all over the place. One of his shoes was on the desk and a sock was on the lamp. There was no way he could have done this by accident. No doubt about it, drunk-Jack intentionally caused problems for sober-Jack, probably blaming him for all of life’s little problems.
Jack approached the console room fully dressed, only to find the Doctor halfway out the door.
“You going somewhere?”
The Doctor stopped and glanced back at Jack, looking a little awkward at having been caught. “Just going to deal with the Xaan. You rest off that hangover and I’ll be back before you know it.”
Jack grabbed his coat off a nearby chair. “I’ll go with you.”
The Doctor shook his head and firmly said, “No. You wait here. The Xaan would probably love an immortal toy. I’ll be right back.”
Then he was gone. But at least being in the Tardis meant Jack could be certain he wasn’t about to be abandoned. The Doctor seemed like he wanted to be near Jack as little as possible, was it still the Immortal thing?
Jack kicked a chair as he felt another surge of fury. The chair was lighter than it looked and flew across the room, smashing into the control panel. Jack ran over, panicked as though he’d hit a person. “Shit, I’m sorry, Tardis!”
He stroked the buttons and levers as he’d seen the Doctor do on multiple occasions. “I’m really sorry. I’m just mad at the Doctor. Last time I saw him after all that crap with the Master, he was like, ‘come travel on the Tardis with me’, and now I’m here he can’t get far enough away from me.”
Jack sighed, still absently stroking the sentient machine. “Don’t tell him this, okay, but I’d do anything to make him happy. I know he’s been in here crying about the Master and I would do anything to know how to comfort him. But I can tell from the way he’s spoken to me this morning that he doesn’t really want me here. God knows why he picked me up in the first place.”
When a quiet whirring started, Jack stilled his hand, immediately thinking he must have pressed something. Then one of the walls slid aside slightly to show a television-like screen. It was dark for a moment, then a picture appeared. Jack walked over to get a closer look and saw he was looking at the inside of the Tardis. “What is this, security footage?” he asked, but received no reply.
There was a noise on the screen that sounded like the opening and closing of the door, then the Doctor came into view, supporting Jack’s stumbling form. Jack cringed at the sight of his own embarrassing drunkenness. The Doctor helped him over into the chair that Jack had recently kicked across the Tardis and took his coat.
~What’s the occasion?~ the Doctor asked, stepping back to take a good look at his intoxicated guest.
~What day is it?~ Jack slurred.
~Tuesday, I think.~
~Then I’m celebrating Tuesday. Yeah, go Tuesday!~ Jack punched the air.
The Doctor laughed a little. ~I’m not sure whether I should be worried or not.~
~Worried about me?~ In the here-and-now, Jack winced at the bitterness in the question. The Doctor hadn’t found him at the best of moments. ~Don’t be stupid. Why would you start worrying about me now?~
The Doctor frowned at him, clearly confused by Jack’s question. ~I’ve always worried about you Jack. You’re my friend.~
~Yeah, as much as a human can be, right?~ Watching the film, Jack felt a sudden vague unease. He knew something bad had happened, or he’d done something or said something. He just couldn’t remember what it was, only that it was on its way.
~What do you mean? I love humans.~
~And I love monkeys, but I wouldn’t fuck one~ Jack retorted.
~Oh Jack, are we back on this?~ the Doctor asked, looking exasperated. ~I’ve told you, it’s not you. I just don’t have a sexual relationship with my travelling companions. It makes it easier in the long run.~
~It makes things a lot more difficult in the eternal run. But don’t worry, it’s okay, I get it. You don’t want to fuck with humans, even an immortal one, because they’re not up to your standards. That’s fine, it’s cool.~
~It is not fine!~ Now the Doctor looked furious. ~Is that what you think of me, that I’m some sort of elitist who’s repulsed by the people he tries to protect?~
~You’re repulsed by me.~
~I was bothered by your immortality at first, but I’m over that now, in case you hadn’t noticed.~
~Then why don’t you want me?~
~I never said I didn’t want you~ the Doctor said quietly.
But instead of feeling the amazement that present-Jack experienced at the Doctor’s words, the drunk Jack on the screen just got even more vexed. ~Then take me! If you want me, you can have me!~
~It’s against my principles.~
~It wouldn’t be if I had two hearts.~
There was total silence for a few moments before the Doctor spoke coldly. ~And what is that supposed to mean?~
~You know damn well what it means. If I was a Timelord, no, if I was the Master, then you’d be on me like a fat lady on cake.~
The Doctor turned his back. ~I’m not talking to you while you’re like this. We can talk more in the morning.~
~Bullshit. This isn’t because I’m drunk, you’re leaving because I said the ‘M’ word. Master.~ Jack slapped a hand over his mouth in false shock. ~Oh no, I said it again! Master. And again!~
~Stop it, Jack. Just go to bed.~
~Like a good little human.~ Jack stood out of his chair, swaying slightly. ~I’ve got news for you, Doc. Us inferior little humans are all you’ve got now, so you’re gonna have to get used to it.~
~Jack…~
~The Master’s dead! And he never fucking deserved your love in the first place!~
The Doctor still had his back turned to last night’s Jack, but from the camera angle current-Jack could see his tears. ~Jack~ he whispered ~just go to bed. Please.~
~You couldn’t see anything but him, could you? You still can’t. You ever thought it might be nice to ask how I’m feeling? I’ve only slept three times in the past fortnight and every time I’ve woken up screaming.~
The Doctor rubbed at his eyes then turned back to Jack. ~I’m sorry. I know I’ve been selfish. But please can we talk about this tomorrow?~
~Yeah. Sure. And with any luck I’ll be too awkward to bring this up tomorrow and you can go ahead pretend I didn’t say anything, right?~
~Oh, I don’t think I can pretend I didn’t hear this.~
~And now it’s my fault for bringing all this up. Now I’m the bastard who won’t let you mourn at your own pace, who intrudes on your solitude…~
~I don’t want solitude, Jack. And…~ the Doctor seemed to struggle here, ~I didn’t know you felt this way. You should have told me, not bottled it all up to attack me with when I’m just trying to help. Is there anything else you want to get off your chest?~
Jack stared at the Doctor with the unmistakable scrutiny of the truly intoxicated. ~I’m glad he’s dead. He’d never have loved you like I do.~
The Doctor closed his eyes and sighed. ~Are you done?~
Jack stepped forward and kissed the Doctor in a surprisingly chaste way. ~I’m done.~ Then he walked off screen, probably going to bed.
The screen went blank and the wall slid back to cover it. Jack then banged his head against it. Stupid, stupid, stupid! To actually tell the Doctor he was glad about the Master’s death… he couldn’t believe he’d been that stupid. No wonder the Doctor was pissed off with him.
The door to the Tardis opened and the Doctor wandered in, looking more cheerful than he had before and carrying a small box. Jack couldn’t find the adequate words for an apology, but the Doctor started talking anyway.
“Wasn’t much of a rebellion in the end. I took the restraints off the Princess and she dealt with the traitors. Bit more bloodshed than I’d like, but this is Xaan. I saved you some lochatha.”
“Huh?” The confused sound that came from his mouth didn’t sound like the eloquent apology he’d planned.
“Lochatha. It’s a Xaan delicacy. The Princess held a celebratory banquet, despite the anticlimax of the rescue. I didn’t stay, because I knew you were waiting to go home, but Xaansha insisted I take some food. I think you’ll like it.”
Jack took the offered box and opened it up. “It looks like mold,” he said cynically, telling his brain to just shut up because he wasn’t ready to apologise yet.
“Just try some,” the Doctor encouraged as he darted around, starting up the Tardis.
Jack took a deep breath then popped some of the greenish stuff into his mouth. He winced before actually tasting it. Then his eyes widened and he shoved more of the strange-looking substance into his mouth. “Doc, this is delicious!” he said around a mouthful.
The Doctor smiled at him as the Tardis moved. “Glad to hear it. Hopefully it’s one small step towards me making a semi-acceptable apology for being a complete arse.”
Jack stared in disbelief. “You? No, Doc, no. I’ve been a total dick. I remember what happened last night and I was way out of order. I didn’t mean any of that stuff.”
“You meant every word,” the Doctor said with a piercing stare.
Jack sighed because it was true. He had meant it all, that’s why it felt so bad to have said it. “I guess this means you’re retracting that room on the Tardis offer.”
“Hardly. You were right to tell me how you feel. I lose sight of important things sometimes, I know that. I don’t mean to be…” the Doctor waved a hand, “self-obsessed, but sometimes I get caught up in my thoughts.”
Jack finished his mouthful of Lochatha. “No, Doc, no. I was way out of line. You’re allowed to hurt, I mean, you loved him. I know you did.”
“I still do,” the Doctor said, looking at the floor, away from Jack’s eyes. “But he’s gone now. What’s important now is looking after the people I let him hurt.” He looked up at Jack again and smiled wearily. “How are you?”
“I…” Jack faltered, feeling increasingly ashamed of his drunken outburst. “I’m fine.”
The Doctor shook his head. “No, you’re not. You mentioned nightmares, may I?” He gestured to Jack’s head and waited for the Captain’s nod before reaching out psychically.
Jack felt suddenly like he was in the year that never was, pain searing down his body, despair setting in, making him mad with fury and the need for revenge. Then it left and he was kneeling in the Tardis and he was shaking. The Doctor was holding him tightly, murmuring soothing words into his ear.
“I’m so sorry, Jack, I didn’t know how bad it was, I’m so sorry. Sssh, I’ll fix it, I promise. I can make the pain go away.”
And Jack realised that he was exactly what he’d tried to avoid being. He was a substitute for the Master, someone for the Doctor to keep and heal. Jack’s anger was like the Master’s drums, his resentment of the situation driving him slowly insane. And the Doctor would help him the way he wasn’t able to help the Master.
Jack was about to protest, to point out what was going on in case the Doctor really couldn’t see it. But then the Doctor kissed him and Jack decided maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to be second-best. After all, in the absence of the winner, the runner-up got the prize.
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But at least Jack gets Doctor-smoochies.
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Oh, poor Ten, what are you doing you silly man?
And poor Jack, here's hoping that prize is enough .....
*is moved*
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Anyway, as I said -great work. Wonderfully written.
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And your icon made me lol.
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This was painful but still sweet.
bitter-sweet.
annakas
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But this line got me:\
"Then I’m celebrating Tuesday. Yeah, go Tuesday!~ Jack punched the air."- LOL! I love drunken Jack! So much fun!
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And drunk!Jack is oodles of fun.
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