World's always ending. And I have missed that coat.
"There's one thing I always wanted to ask Jack. Back in the old days. I wanted to know about that Doctor of his. The man who appears out of nowhere and saves the world; except sometimes he doesn't. All those times in history where there was no sign of him.. I wanted to know why not. But I don't need to ask anymore. I know the answer now: Sometimes the Doctor must look at this planet and turn away in shame. I'm recording this in case anyone ever finds it, so you can see. You can see how the world ended."
Jack had watched that tape enough times to have it memorized. Every vowel of Welsh, every flicker of those eyes, fuzzy in the frame no matter how much technology he had at his disposal to clean it up.
"Sometimes the Doctor must look at this planet and turn away in shame," he said with the recording, mouthing the rest. The world had not ended. And the Doctor had not turned away in shame. The Doctor didn't give a flying fuck about anyone other than himself.
Jack had, not that long ago, finished himself with the Doctor. Every time the immortal needed him -- the 456, Miracle Day, the 30th Century Plagues, the final supernova of the Centari System -- the Doctor was off with one of his women. His 'Companions.' It made Jack sick.
There were other voices in Jack's head too. Other horrible voices.
Ianto Jones. Owen Hooper. Rex Matheson. Erin Gilmore. Sophia Blake--
People he loved. People he lost.
People the Doctor failed to help him save.
Didn't matter now. Jack was on his own mission. He closed up his once again functioning vortex manipulator, set in a complex series of coordinates, and stepped into the violet light. It was an appropriate way of travel to the only other creature in the universe he hated as much as the Doctor.
Jack had watched that tape enough times to have it memorized. Every vowel of Welsh, every flicker of those eyes, fuzzy in the frame no matter how much technology he had at his disposal to clean it up.
"Sometimes the Doctor must look at this planet and turn away in shame," he said with the recording, mouthing the rest. The world had not ended. And the Doctor had not turned away in shame. The Doctor didn't give a flying fuck about anyone other than himself.
Jack had, not that long ago, finished himself with the Doctor. Every time the immortal needed him -- the 456, Miracle Day, the 30th Century Plagues, the final supernova of the Centari System -- the Doctor was off with one of his women. His 'Companions.' It made Jack sick.
There were other voices in Jack's head too. Other horrible voices.
Ianto Jones. Owen Hooper. Rex Matheson. Erin Gilmore. Sophia Blake--
People he loved. People he lost.
People the Doctor failed to help him save.
Didn't matter now. Jack was on his own mission. He closed up his once again functioning vortex manipulator, set in a complex series of coordinates, and stepped into the violet light. It was an appropriate way of travel to the only other creature in the universe he hated as much as the Doctor.