Fic: A Time and a Place that Shouldn't Exist [Jack/Rose, DW/TW]
Title: A Time and a Place that Shouldn't Exist
Author: hllangel
Pairing: Jack/Rose
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2,907
Warnings: Takes place during Turn Left and contains spoilers.
Notes: Many thanks to karaokegal for the quick-and-dirty beta. This one bit last night and I couldn't let it go.
Summary: Rose doesn't want to bring bad news, but it seems that lately, it's all she's been doing.
Rose reckoned that the entrance to the Cardiff branch of Torchwood would probably be similar to the one she knew. Sure enough, it was exactly the same; a dingy little tourist office tucked into the side of the new docks, the door nondescript except for the black and white ‘i’ next to it. Her Torchwood required that someone staff the office at all times, or at least be close enough to look like they were actually in the office, so she wasn’t surprised to see a person behind the desk when she walked in. She was surprised to recognise Ianto Jones, and had to stop herself from greeting him by name. This one wouldn’t know who the hell she was. Instead of saying anything, she flashed her ID, and was pleased to know that the IDs from this universe were similar enough to get her through the door without questions.
She proceeded through the hidden door and into the elevator, wondering who was in charge this time. It sure as hell wasn’t Mickey, as he was heading up the branch back in her ‘home’ world. She smiled as she waited for the rolling door to open. Her timeline must have split from this one after building the Hub, and despite how bad things had become, the small bit of familiarity was a comfort that seemed to make what she needed to do much easier. She expected an uphill battle explaining that their primary objective was now moot, and that there were much more important things at stake.
As she stepped into the Hub proper, she could hear a mess of voices clustered around the morgue. Rose took the opportunity to scope out the place, and found that it was mostly the same. Sitting on a table amongst a tangle of wires was a jar of bubbling liquid and a severed, preserved hand. Rose choked as she remembered the day it had been cut off, the new Doctor growing another right away and continuing the fight, never giving up even against all the odds. Getting control of herself, she went up the stairs to the Director’s office, assuming it would be in the same place.
This Torchwood seemingly put more effort into tracking the Doctor than London had. Several artifacts from her own travels were scattered around the office. This wasn't going to be easy. She’d have to convince them that the Doctor wasn’t the enemy before she could explain anything else. They wouldn’t listen to a word she said otherwise, and the Doctor was integral to what she was trying to do.
The door opened and she started, standing up with her ID ready, hoping that she wouldn’t be facing the barrel of yet another gun. She’d been doing that too frequently lately. Indeed, the first thing she saw was the antique gun that was leveled at her chest, which she forced herself to ignore in favor of meeting the eyes of whoever had drawn on her. When she saw who it was, she nearly fainted, and just like the first time they’d met, he caught her.
He looked exactly the same as he had when they’d parted. She licked her lips remembering the way he’d kissed her. His ‘see you in hell’ still echoed through her nightmares as much as his dazzling smile and wicked laugh showed up in her more pleasant dreams. “Hello,” she whispered.
He didn’t respond, and she was suddenly very aware that he’d never actually re-holstered his pistol, and it was now pressing into her back. Rose regained her balance, but she still stood on shaky legs as she pulled away from his grip. The gun was no longer pointed at her, but he hadn't put it back in its holster either.
Jack closed and locked the door before going to sit behind his desk, never taking his eyes away from her. “You’re dead,” he began.
Of course he would have access to the Canary Wharf files.
“Don’t believe everything you read,” she replied. She wanted to say more, but he cut her off.
“Who are you, really?” he asked. “And what are you doing on Earth, impersonating a dead girl?”
“Jack -- “
“Captain Harkness,” he corrected.
She started again, “Jack, it’s me. Really. I didn’t die at Canary Wharf. I ended up in a different universe, the one the Cybermen came from.”
“And you just happened to waltz back into my Hub like you own the place. Tell me why you feel the need to impersonate her.” His voice was still hard, and his expression serious. This Jack Harkness was so different from the cheeky Captain she’d once known. She chose her next words very carefully.
“The first time we met, you had a piece of psychic paper,” she said. The ordeal with the gas masks and the creepy child seemed so far away now. It almost felt like something she’d dreamed up, but her first meeting with Jack was seared into her brain. “You handed it to me after you kept me from falling to my death during the blitz. It said you were single and that you worked out. Is it still true, I wonder?”
Jack had certainly gotten better at hiding what he was thinking around her, and for the first time since she'd known him, she had no idea what was going on in his mind.
A knock on the door startled both of them, and Rose nearly dropped her jaw at seeing Gwen Cooper standing on the other side of the glass. She’d been with Gwen when she died, Rose’s small miscalculation meaning the difference between life and death for Gwen. Rose had never forgiven herself.
Jack was speaking to her in a low tone, his posture still tight, bordering on angry. He glanced back at Rose before stepping outside the door, where he and Gwen proceeded to have a very fast conversation complete with wide eyes and wild gestures from Gwen while Jack just nodded, saying little.
Rose itched to pick up the paper glasses that hung off his lamp but refrained from doing it. Her relationship with her Captain was on rocky ground already, and she didn’t want to strain it further before they came to some sort of understanding.
Rose watched while Jack and Gwen finished their argument, which ended with Gwen going off to follow Jack's instructions. He came back inside the office and drew the blinds, locking the door once again. He closed his eyes for a moment before striding over to her and pulling her into a hug. She squeezed him right back, this was the Jack she remembered. They stayed like that for a long time, until Jack finally pulled away, “It’s good to see you, Rose.”
“I missed you, Jack,” It really was true. She’d taken the Doctor’s word that Jack was OK, that he was rebuilding the Earth after the Daleks nearly destroyed it, but she missed having Jack around nearly as much as she missed her first Doctor. She wanted to ask him how he’d ended up here, but there were more important things to deal with immediately.
“How much communication do you have with UNIT?” she asked.
“Torchwood cut communication with UNIT in the 70’s, when they found out the Doctor was a consultant. You met Yvonne Hartman; you know what Torchwood was like. I’ve been trying to re-establish ties, but they don’t trust me very much yet.”
“Was?” She asked.
Jack gave her a hard look, “Do you really think I could do what she did, Rose? After everything?”
“I suppose not,” she said, “Though someone’s done quite a job stalking us.” She gestured around the office.
“It’s a personal collection, not part of the archives. Everything I have, I picked up myself. I never did manage to get there on time. It’s doesn’t really matter, though. He has to stop here sooner or later.”
Rose bit her lip, unsure of how to break the news. He had changed in many ways, but he was still childishly optimistic about the Doctor; absolute trust and certainty. Rose could still remember feeling that way, right up until she’d snuck into the hospital and seen his body. She couldn’t look at him, so instead she reached out and plucked the glasses from the lampshade, cradling them in her hands as she spoke, “He’s gone, Jack.”
She heard Jack’s gasp, and looked up in time to see him walk out of the office. He didn’t go far, though. He stood at the railing, watching the rest of the team working below, taking orders from Gwen, of all people. Rose shouldn’t have been surprised. Gwen was sharp, and until that day, Rose had her pegged as a group leader with a bit more training. To see her in action was difficult, however.
Rose stepped out next to Jack and he put an arm around her. She leaned into the contact.
“How?”
He wasn’t crying, but she suspected it was a close thing.
“Christmas day,” she said. “He drained the Thames, but didn’t get out in time. UNIT found him underneath the flood barrier.” She took a deep breath and continued. “It’s a bit more complicated than UNIT knows.”
Jack gave her shoulder another squeeze. “It always is with him, isn’t it?”
Rose nodded. There was no need to say anything else. It was one thing they’d always agreed on during their time with him. “I need a coffee,” Jack said abruptly, “Tea for you?”
“Sure. I’ve a bit of time.”
Jack relayed the order through his headset, and she smiled to learn that Jack still remembered how she took her tea; she shouldn’t have been, they’d spend quite a few late nights in the TARDIS kitchen, the three of them, laughing and talking over just one more cup of tea (coffee for Jack). She was surprised to see Ianto walk in with a tray and two mugs. The Ianto she knew was a good agent; a bit hesitant at times, but smart and loyal to a fault. Rose accepted her tea, Jack took his coffee and Ianto left.
“You should give him a chance, Jack. He can do more than look good in a suit.”
Jack’s expression darkened once again, “I did.”
Rose wanted to ask what happened, but bit down on the question. Now wasn’t the time and there were more important things to deal with.
“He wasn’t supposed to die at Christmas,” she began, “History’s been changed. He was supposed to meet a woman called Donna, but something happened, and they never met in this timeline.”
“So we’re dealing with alternate universes?” Jack asked. “If we are, there’s no way to jump between and fix it.”
“More like an alternate timeline,” she corrected. “The Doctor was never in my new universe, and he was never in any others, from what I can tell. I can jump between them, I have been. Reality is splintering, every single world, and I need your help.”
Jack nodded.
“You need to get in contact with UNIT, Jack. Talk to Captain Magambo, I’ve been working with her. UNIT has the intelligence, but Torchwood has the technology. You’re going to need to be the Doctor, Jack. Keep this world alive until I can fix it.”
*******
It was nearly a year before she saw him again. UNIT had managed to bring the TARDIS up to the surface again, and Rose didn’t want to unlock it on her own. She’d be surrounded by UNIT personnel, but none of them had been inside; they’d be more interested in the technology they could find and salvage than the TARDIS herself. Rose needed a moment before they started stripping the console, and she guessed that Jack would feel the same.
Rose was thankful for Jack’s hand on her shoulder as she took the key from around her neck and inserted it into the lock, fighting the urge to cry as it fit perfectly, just as it had the day the Doctor gave it to her. She pushed her way inside, stopping at the end of the ramp to lay a hand on the coral column. The lights were dim, and she knew, without a doubt, that once again she’d gotten there too late.
She felt a small tremor under her hand as Jack stepped inside and shut the door, locking them inside and away from UNIT for the time being. “It’s colder than it used to be,” Jack said, rubbing his arms.
“The lights are going out,” Rose responded, “She’s dying.”
Jack walked past her, up to the console, taking up his old stance and fiddling with some of the controls. Rose felt the same shiver under her hands again. “Stop it, Jack.”
He turned around quickly, puzzled.
“You’re hurting her.”
The Jack of old would have grinned sheepishly before apologizing to both her and the TARDIS, possibly the Doctor as well. This Jack looked hurt, and muttered something before leaving quickly, almost slamming the door behind him. Rose caressed the column one more time before going to find him.
She barely got to him in time; he was closing the door of the SUV, ready to drive back to Cardiff. Rose climbed into the car with him, “Jack - “
“How much do you remember about the Game Station?” he asked, suddenly.
“The Doctor sang a song and the Daleks ran away,” she replied quietly, thinking back. “He sent me home, but I came back. I don’t know what happened, and he never told me.”
Jack swore, hitting his fists against the steering wheel. “And you didn’t think to come back for me? I saw you leave, Rose. I saw the TARDIS leave after everything. I was too late then, and now it’s too late to get any answers.”
“He told me you were busy,” Rose said. “Rebuilding the Earth. He wouldn’t have trusted just anyone with that task.”
“And you never went back, never tried to find me. The two of you went on, left me to make my own way back.”
“It wasn’t like that,” Rose protested, but guilt was creeping up on her, because that’s exactly what they’d done. She’d listened to the Doctor, trusted him when he said that Jack was all right, that he had work to do. After the regeneration and Christmas, she'd been so relieved to have the Doctor back that she’d forgotten, put Jack out of her mind, and went on traveling, just like they’d done before.
“He’s gone, the TARDIS is dying, and I’ll never find out what’s wrong with me,” Jack said. “Just go, Rose.”
“What do you mean, wrong?” she asked.
“It doesn’t matter anymore,” Jack said.
“It does to me.”
Jack gave her a long look before taking his hands off the wheel. He reached for something at his belt, and too late Rose realized that it was his gun. Before she could stop him, he raised the gun to his head and pulled the trigger, falling over limply, held in place by the seat belt. Rose wanted to scream, wanted to cry, to hit something; she was frozen, staring at her friend slumped over and bleeding.
She did scream when Jack sat up straight, gasping for breath. An image swam in the back of her mind, something she’d long forgotten, if she'd even known it was there in the first place.
"You knew that would happen, didn't you?" Rose asked when she remembered how to breathe again.
Jack didn't answer her at all, he seemed absorbed in polishing the pistol with his coat, but she knew him well enough that he was just avoiding the question. He had to have known, he might be different to the Captain she remembered, but Jack had never had it in him to be that cruel.
“How many times, Jack?”
“I lost count about 70 years ago,” he finally admitted. “I’ve been looking for answers for a lot longer.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, reaching out to him. She laid her hand on his face, looked into his eyes, and an echo of her own voice came back to her, I bring life. Those three words said everything. She remembered trying to break open the console, to see the heart of the TARDIS. If it had regressed Blon to an egg, if it had carried her back to her Doctor, then it was more than capable of giving eternal life, and she'd wanted him safe. She’d done this to him. “I’m so sorry.”
Jack broke eye contact and flashed her one of his famous grins. “I’ll live,” he said. He sounded cheerful enough, but Rose knew he was hiding disappointment and anger. She wanted to tell him the truth now that she knew it herself, that it wasn’t the Doctor and that there were no answers to be had, but she was selfish. She'd finally won back her Captain, and she’d rather have him angry at a dead man than at her. Besides, they had work to do.
“We can fix things,” she said, “Once we get Donna, once we figure out exactly what went wrong we can set things right again. He won’t die and you’ll be able to ask him, one day.”
This time, she kissed him, a mirror of the farewell he’d given her. Jack smiled. Not one of his large flashy grins, but a softer and more sincere one.
“See you in hell.”
Author: hllangel
Pairing: Jack/Rose
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2,907
Warnings: Takes place during Turn Left and contains spoilers.
Notes: Many thanks to karaokegal for the quick-and-dirty beta. This one bit last night and I couldn't let it go.
Summary: Rose doesn't want to bring bad news, but it seems that lately, it's all she's been doing.
Rose reckoned that the entrance to the Cardiff branch of Torchwood would probably be similar to the one she knew. Sure enough, it was exactly the same; a dingy little tourist office tucked into the side of the new docks, the door nondescript except for the black and white ‘i’ next to it. Her Torchwood required that someone staff the office at all times, or at least be close enough to look like they were actually in the office, so she wasn’t surprised to see a person behind the desk when she walked in. She was surprised to recognise Ianto Jones, and had to stop herself from greeting him by name. This one wouldn’t know who the hell she was. Instead of saying anything, she flashed her ID, and was pleased to know that the IDs from this universe were similar enough to get her through the door without questions.
She proceeded through the hidden door and into the elevator, wondering who was in charge this time. It sure as hell wasn’t Mickey, as he was heading up the branch back in her ‘home’ world. She smiled as she waited for the rolling door to open. Her timeline must have split from this one after building the Hub, and despite how bad things had become, the small bit of familiarity was a comfort that seemed to make what she needed to do much easier. She expected an uphill battle explaining that their primary objective was now moot, and that there were much more important things at stake.
As she stepped into the Hub proper, she could hear a mess of voices clustered around the morgue. Rose took the opportunity to scope out the place, and found that it was mostly the same. Sitting on a table amongst a tangle of wires was a jar of bubbling liquid and a severed, preserved hand. Rose choked as she remembered the day it had been cut off, the new Doctor growing another right away and continuing the fight, never giving up even against all the odds. Getting control of herself, she went up the stairs to the Director’s office, assuming it would be in the same place.
This Torchwood seemingly put more effort into tracking the Doctor than London had. Several artifacts from her own travels were scattered around the office. This wasn't going to be easy. She’d have to convince them that the Doctor wasn’t the enemy before she could explain anything else. They wouldn’t listen to a word she said otherwise, and the Doctor was integral to what she was trying to do.
The door opened and she started, standing up with her ID ready, hoping that she wouldn’t be facing the barrel of yet another gun. She’d been doing that too frequently lately. Indeed, the first thing she saw was the antique gun that was leveled at her chest, which she forced herself to ignore in favor of meeting the eyes of whoever had drawn on her. When she saw who it was, she nearly fainted, and just like the first time they’d met, he caught her.
He looked exactly the same as he had when they’d parted. She licked her lips remembering the way he’d kissed her. His ‘see you in hell’ still echoed through her nightmares as much as his dazzling smile and wicked laugh showed up in her more pleasant dreams. “Hello,” she whispered.
He didn’t respond, and she was suddenly very aware that he’d never actually re-holstered his pistol, and it was now pressing into her back. Rose regained her balance, but she still stood on shaky legs as she pulled away from his grip. The gun was no longer pointed at her, but he hadn't put it back in its holster either.
Jack closed and locked the door before going to sit behind his desk, never taking his eyes away from her. “You’re dead,” he began.
Of course he would have access to the Canary Wharf files.
“Don’t believe everything you read,” she replied. She wanted to say more, but he cut her off.
“Who are you, really?” he asked. “And what are you doing on Earth, impersonating a dead girl?”
“Jack -- “
“Captain Harkness,” he corrected.
She started again, “Jack, it’s me. Really. I didn’t die at Canary Wharf. I ended up in a different universe, the one the Cybermen came from.”
“And you just happened to waltz back into my Hub like you own the place. Tell me why you feel the need to impersonate her.” His voice was still hard, and his expression serious. This Jack Harkness was so different from the cheeky Captain she’d once known. She chose her next words very carefully.
“The first time we met, you had a piece of psychic paper,” she said. The ordeal with the gas masks and the creepy child seemed so far away now. It almost felt like something she’d dreamed up, but her first meeting with Jack was seared into her brain. “You handed it to me after you kept me from falling to my death during the blitz. It said you were single and that you worked out. Is it still true, I wonder?”
Jack had certainly gotten better at hiding what he was thinking around her, and for the first time since she'd known him, she had no idea what was going on in his mind.
A knock on the door startled both of them, and Rose nearly dropped her jaw at seeing Gwen Cooper standing on the other side of the glass. She’d been with Gwen when she died, Rose’s small miscalculation meaning the difference between life and death for Gwen. Rose had never forgiven herself.
Jack was speaking to her in a low tone, his posture still tight, bordering on angry. He glanced back at Rose before stepping outside the door, where he and Gwen proceeded to have a very fast conversation complete with wide eyes and wild gestures from Gwen while Jack just nodded, saying little.
Rose itched to pick up the paper glasses that hung off his lamp but refrained from doing it. Her relationship with her Captain was on rocky ground already, and she didn’t want to strain it further before they came to some sort of understanding.
Rose watched while Jack and Gwen finished their argument, which ended with Gwen going off to follow Jack's instructions. He came back inside the office and drew the blinds, locking the door once again. He closed his eyes for a moment before striding over to her and pulling her into a hug. She squeezed him right back, this was the Jack she remembered. They stayed like that for a long time, until Jack finally pulled away, “It’s good to see you, Rose.”
“I missed you, Jack,” It really was true. She’d taken the Doctor’s word that Jack was OK, that he was rebuilding the Earth after the Daleks nearly destroyed it, but she missed having Jack around nearly as much as she missed her first Doctor. She wanted to ask him how he’d ended up here, but there were more important things to deal with immediately.
“How much communication do you have with UNIT?” she asked.
“Torchwood cut communication with UNIT in the 70’s, when they found out the Doctor was a consultant. You met Yvonne Hartman; you know what Torchwood was like. I’ve been trying to re-establish ties, but they don’t trust me very much yet.”
“Was?” She asked.
Jack gave her a hard look, “Do you really think I could do what she did, Rose? After everything?”
“I suppose not,” she said, “Though someone’s done quite a job stalking us.” She gestured around the office.
“It’s a personal collection, not part of the archives. Everything I have, I picked up myself. I never did manage to get there on time. It’s doesn’t really matter, though. He has to stop here sooner or later.”
Rose bit her lip, unsure of how to break the news. He had changed in many ways, but he was still childishly optimistic about the Doctor; absolute trust and certainty. Rose could still remember feeling that way, right up until she’d snuck into the hospital and seen his body. She couldn’t look at him, so instead she reached out and plucked the glasses from the lampshade, cradling them in her hands as she spoke, “He’s gone, Jack.”
She heard Jack’s gasp, and looked up in time to see him walk out of the office. He didn’t go far, though. He stood at the railing, watching the rest of the team working below, taking orders from Gwen, of all people. Rose shouldn’t have been surprised. Gwen was sharp, and until that day, Rose had her pegged as a group leader with a bit more training. To see her in action was difficult, however.
Rose stepped out next to Jack and he put an arm around her. She leaned into the contact.
“How?”
He wasn’t crying, but she suspected it was a close thing.
“Christmas day,” she said. “He drained the Thames, but didn’t get out in time. UNIT found him underneath the flood barrier.” She took a deep breath and continued. “It’s a bit more complicated than UNIT knows.”
Jack gave her shoulder another squeeze. “It always is with him, isn’t it?”
Rose nodded. There was no need to say anything else. It was one thing they’d always agreed on during their time with him. “I need a coffee,” Jack said abruptly, “Tea for you?”
“Sure. I’ve a bit of time.”
Jack relayed the order through his headset, and she smiled to learn that Jack still remembered how she took her tea; she shouldn’t have been, they’d spend quite a few late nights in the TARDIS kitchen, the three of them, laughing and talking over just one more cup of tea (coffee for Jack). She was surprised to see Ianto walk in with a tray and two mugs. The Ianto she knew was a good agent; a bit hesitant at times, but smart and loyal to a fault. Rose accepted her tea, Jack took his coffee and Ianto left.
“You should give him a chance, Jack. He can do more than look good in a suit.”
Jack’s expression darkened once again, “I did.”
Rose wanted to ask what happened, but bit down on the question. Now wasn’t the time and there were more important things to deal with.
“He wasn’t supposed to die at Christmas,” she began, “History’s been changed. He was supposed to meet a woman called Donna, but something happened, and they never met in this timeline.”
“So we’re dealing with alternate universes?” Jack asked. “If we are, there’s no way to jump between and fix it.”
“More like an alternate timeline,” she corrected. “The Doctor was never in my new universe, and he was never in any others, from what I can tell. I can jump between them, I have been. Reality is splintering, every single world, and I need your help.”
Jack nodded.
“You need to get in contact with UNIT, Jack. Talk to Captain Magambo, I’ve been working with her. UNIT has the intelligence, but Torchwood has the technology. You’re going to need to be the Doctor, Jack. Keep this world alive until I can fix it.”
*******
It was nearly a year before she saw him again. UNIT had managed to bring the TARDIS up to the surface again, and Rose didn’t want to unlock it on her own. She’d be surrounded by UNIT personnel, but none of them had been inside; they’d be more interested in the technology they could find and salvage than the TARDIS herself. Rose needed a moment before they started stripping the console, and she guessed that Jack would feel the same.
Rose was thankful for Jack’s hand on her shoulder as she took the key from around her neck and inserted it into the lock, fighting the urge to cry as it fit perfectly, just as it had the day the Doctor gave it to her. She pushed her way inside, stopping at the end of the ramp to lay a hand on the coral column. The lights were dim, and she knew, without a doubt, that once again she’d gotten there too late.
She felt a small tremor under her hand as Jack stepped inside and shut the door, locking them inside and away from UNIT for the time being. “It’s colder than it used to be,” Jack said, rubbing his arms.
“The lights are going out,” Rose responded, “She’s dying.”
Jack walked past her, up to the console, taking up his old stance and fiddling with some of the controls. Rose felt the same shiver under her hands again. “Stop it, Jack.”
He turned around quickly, puzzled.
“You’re hurting her.”
The Jack of old would have grinned sheepishly before apologizing to both her and the TARDIS, possibly the Doctor as well. This Jack looked hurt, and muttered something before leaving quickly, almost slamming the door behind him. Rose caressed the column one more time before going to find him.
She barely got to him in time; he was closing the door of the SUV, ready to drive back to Cardiff. Rose climbed into the car with him, “Jack - “
“How much do you remember about the Game Station?” he asked, suddenly.
“The Doctor sang a song and the Daleks ran away,” she replied quietly, thinking back. “He sent me home, but I came back. I don’t know what happened, and he never told me.”
Jack swore, hitting his fists against the steering wheel. “And you didn’t think to come back for me? I saw you leave, Rose. I saw the TARDIS leave after everything. I was too late then, and now it’s too late to get any answers.”
“He told me you were busy,” Rose said. “Rebuilding the Earth. He wouldn’t have trusted just anyone with that task.”
“And you never went back, never tried to find me. The two of you went on, left me to make my own way back.”
“It wasn’t like that,” Rose protested, but guilt was creeping up on her, because that’s exactly what they’d done. She’d listened to the Doctor, trusted him when he said that Jack was all right, that he had work to do. After the regeneration and Christmas, she'd been so relieved to have the Doctor back that she’d forgotten, put Jack out of her mind, and went on traveling, just like they’d done before.
“He’s gone, the TARDIS is dying, and I’ll never find out what’s wrong with me,” Jack said. “Just go, Rose.”
“What do you mean, wrong?” she asked.
“It doesn’t matter anymore,” Jack said.
“It does to me.”
Jack gave her a long look before taking his hands off the wheel. He reached for something at his belt, and too late Rose realized that it was his gun. Before she could stop him, he raised the gun to his head and pulled the trigger, falling over limply, held in place by the seat belt. Rose wanted to scream, wanted to cry, to hit something; she was frozen, staring at her friend slumped over and bleeding.
She did scream when Jack sat up straight, gasping for breath. An image swam in the back of her mind, something she’d long forgotten, if she'd even known it was there in the first place.
"You knew that would happen, didn't you?" Rose asked when she remembered how to breathe again.
Jack didn't answer her at all, he seemed absorbed in polishing the pistol with his coat, but she knew him well enough that he was just avoiding the question. He had to have known, he might be different to the Captain she remembered, but Jack had never had it in him to be that cruel.
“How many times, Jack?”
“I lost count about 70 years ago,” he finally admitted. “I’ve been looking for answers for a lot longer.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, reaching out to him. She laid her hand on his face, looked into his eyes, and an echo of her own voice came back to her, I bring life. Those three words said everything. She remembered trying to break open the console, to see the heart of the TARDIS. If it had regressed Blon to an egg, if it had carried her back to her Doctor, then it was more than capable of giving eternal life, and she'd wanted him safe. She’d done this to him. “I’m so sorry.”
Jack broke eye contact and flashed her one of his famous grins. “I’ll live,” he said. He sounded cheerful enough, but Rose knew he was hiding disappointment and anger. She wanted to tell him the truth now that she knew it herself, that it wasn’t the Doctor and that there were no answers to be had, but she was selfish. She'd finally won back her Captain, and she’d rather have him angry at a dead man than at her. Besides, they had work to do.
“We can fix things,” she said, “Once we get Donna, once we figure out exactly what went wrong we can set things right again. He won’t die and you’ll be able to ask him, one day.”
This time, she kissed him, a mirror of the farewell he’d given her. Jack smiled. Not one of his large flashy grins, but a softer and more sincere one.
“See you in hell.”