Fic: Damaged Goods (1/1)
Title: Damaged Goods
Author: Gillian Taylor
Character/Pairing: Jack Harkness, Tenth Doctor
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Children of Earth (Pt 5)
Summary: He knows why the Doctor runs.
Disclaimer: Don't own them. I just like playing with them...a lot.
A/N: This jumped into my head after watching Children of Earth and I couldn't stop myself from writing it. This is the first time in months that I've been able to turn out a fic this fast. Thanks, as always, to my wonderful BR wendymr. I couldn't've done this without her.
"Damaged Goods"
by Gillian Taylor
He knows why the Doctor does it now. Why he runs and never, ever stops running.
This is why. Because staying in one place means you have to live with the consequences of your actions. Because staying in one place hurts too damned much.
Did the Doctor ever have children? Did he have a daughter? Did the Doctor hurt his daughter like he hurt his own? Did he ever sacrifice someone who meant so damned much to him that...
A sound escapes his lips that's neither a scream nor a cry, but a bastardization of both. His daughter, Alice, will never look at him again. Never see him as anything other than the bastard who killed her son. He can't blame her for that. He's the bastard who did it, after all.
He can't even stand on Earth any more. Can't be there where all that happened, where he sacrificed so much, where he found a choice he couldn't, but had to, make. He runs. Far, far away, as fast as the closest ship can take him.
He'll take a new name. Be someone else. Someone who never had to do what he did. Someone, anyone, other than himself.
He runs. And he supposes that's all he can do.
He steps off the ship onto a space station. It's as far from Earth as its possible to get without refuelling and that's good. No, that's brilliant. This is exactly where he needs to be.
But that's when he sees the child. The boy looks nothing like Steven, but he thinks he sees an echo of Alice's condemnation and Steven's confusion in the child's eyes. He can't do this any more.
Gritting his teeth, he turns and finds the closest ship that's leaving and hitches a ride. Somewhere where there's no children. That should help.
He finds a planet where there are no children. There are only adults struggling to make their lives in an unforgiving atmosphere, and that's good. He can live here.
He tells whoever asks that his name is Steven Jones. Even though the name hurts, it's a good hurt. He can't change the past, but he'll carry it with him every time someone calls his name. It's good, really. Best thing for him.
A few years pass, and he thinks he might be able to sleep at least through the night without waking up because of his nightmares. He doesn't see Steven in everyone's face, or see Alice's eyes staring back at him, full of hatred. He doesn't see Ianto looking back at him as he dies. Distance makes the pain fade, or so he thinks.
When one of the settlers tells the colony that she's pregnant, he decides it's time to leave.
He tells them goodbye one morning, not saying why he's leaving after all this time, but telling them he has to.
Maybe they'll mourn his loss. Maybe they won't.
He doesn't care.
In all of time and space, he never expected to find him here. Had to happen, though. It's a given, really. The Doctor will turn up when you least expect it.
There are no megalomaniacs or alien invasions or anything on this planet that should've attracted him. There's just soiled goods in the form of a man who once went by the name Captain Jack Harkness.
He doesn't know why he doesn't leave the instant he spots the TARDIS. Instead, he stays, watching the familiar double doors. He can't bring himself to knock.
"Are you going to stand there all day, or are you going to come in?" a familiar voice asks from just behind him.
He stiffens. He's slipping, but he's been slipping since...well, since. Before, he would've known that someone was coming up behind him. Before, he would've cared. "Can't. Lost my key a while back," he settles for saying.
"Ah. C'mon, then. In you go," the Doctor says as he steps around him, a familiar profile in brown pin-stripes. The Time Lord moves to the TARDIS and opens the doors, swinging them wide.
The Doctor pauses there, turning around to face him. "Coming?"
There's a part of him that wants to step forward, but the majority of him wants to stay right here. He shakes his head and sighs. "I can't," he says.
"Why not?" There's no condemnation there. Only confusion. "Not like I bite."
The old Jack Harkness would leap all over that comment with some sort of new innuendo. Steven Jones says nothing.
"Jack?"
"How can you stand to look at humans, Doctor?" The question comes out of nowhere.
The Doctor blinks. "Love humans, actually. They're brilliant. Why wouldn't I want to look at them?"
"You know what humans are capable of, yet you say you love us. Where the fuck were you, Doctor? Where were you when the 456 came?" Thousands of other demands, other questions, spring to mind, but he gives voice to none of them. Why didn't you stop me? Why didn't you save my grandson? Why didn't you save the Earth, like you always do?
"What happened, Jack?" The Doctor leaves the security of the TARDIS and comes to him, standing right before him. There's no condemnation in his voice or in his eyes. There doesn't have to be.
Jack condemns himself more than enough for both of them.
He doesn't know what spurs him to tell the Doctor everything. A desire for forgiveness? Or a desire for more condemnation? He doesn't know any more. "A species called the 456 came to Earth. They wanted our children. 10%, they said. I tried to stop them. I did. I kept hoping you'd be there, but... you weren't. I had to make a choice. For the good of the fucking many. And you know what? It doesn't help. I killed a child to stop the 456, Doctor. My own grandson. What does that make me, Doctor? I chose to kill a child. Me. No-one else. Because there was no-one else to make the choice. It was 10% of Earth's children or one. And I made the bloody choice."
There's a rustle of fabric and suddenly he finds himself wrapped in the Doctor's arms. "Jack, I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. No-one should ever find themselves faced with a choice like that."
He remains stiff within the Doctor's arms. He can't accept comfort. Not now, not ever. "I know why you do it now, Doctor. I know why you run. I've been running ever since. Does it ever start to help? Do you ever start to forget? Do you ever learn how to forgive yourself?"
The Doctor sighs against him and pulls away, just enough so he can see his face. "It starts to hurt a little less as time goes by, but do you ever forget? No, never. Do you ever forgive yourself?" The Time Lord seems to be struggling with words before he admits quietly, "No, never."
That's what he thought.
"I can't stay in one place any more. I can't even go back to Earth," Jack says. "I keep seeing Steven around every corner. I keep seeing Alice, looking at me with hatred in her eyes. I can't do it any more, Doctor. And I can't do anything about it. The only release I might possibly get is death, and that's not permanent. Not with me."
"You don't have to stay in one place," the Doctor says. "I always said I only take the best, Jack. Care for another go? Travel in the TARDIS, just like before?"
He sighs. "Can't be like before, Doctor. I'm a murderer."
The Doctor's hands move to his shoulders, where they tighten. "So am I." The Doctor's brown eyes are full of darkness and pain and understanding.
"How do you move on, then, Doctor?" he asks. "How do you live with yourself after something like that?" After killing a child. A child!
"You live with yourself because you have to. Because there's no other choice. You learn from what happened and try your damnedest to avoid letting it happen again. Sometimes you succeed. Sometimes you don't. And because you know what would've happened if you hadn't made that choice. Because if you didn't do what you did, the consequences would've been far worse."
"Doesn't excuse what happened." It doesn't alleviate his pain, his suffering. It doesn't bring Steven back to life. It doesn't make Alice love him again.
"Course it doesn't. That's the problem with this sort of life. You make the choices no-one else can. Someone else might've chosen to find another child, someone else's son or daughter, just to try to save themselves some measure of pain. You didn't do that. Even though you knew what would happen, what you'd lose, you did it anyway. Doesn't mean it doesn't hurt. It was the only choice you could make."
"You forgive me?" Jack asks in shock.
The Doctor closes his eyes for a moment before opening them again. "There's nothing to forgive. If I'd been there..."
Would the Doctor have found another way? Would he have been able to save all the children of the world with just a wave of his sonic screwdriver and a lot of babbling? He doesn't know. He can't know.
What was it that they always said at the Time Agency? Ah, yes, second guessing yourself will kill you.
Too bad he can't die.
"You weren't," Jack says.
"No, I wasn't," the Doctor agrees. "And for that, I'm sorry."
If only he could lay the blame on the Doctor's feet. He wasn't there when he was needed. It was the Time Lord's fault that he was forced to make that choice. But he can't do that, can he? Jack's the one who was there.
He's the one who made that damned choice.
He's the one who killed Steven to save 10% of the world's children.
Him.
Jack Harkness. Steven Jones. Doesn't matter the name. The blame stays the same.
"There was no other choice," the Doctor says. "You've got to remind yourself of that, even if you never forgive yourself. The only thing you can do is try to make sure it never happens again."
Jack sighs and shakes his head. "How can I, Doctor? I'm damaged goods."
The Doctor's hands tighten once more as he gives him a little shake. "No, you're not. Little bruised, maybe, but damaged beyond repair? Nope. Don't think so. There is something you can do, though."
"What?" he asks.
"Come with me. Just for one trip," the Doctor says, stepping back and offering him his hand. "I found something that helps, even a little bit."
"What's that?"
"Something a good friend once taught me. Sometimes, in saving a life, you might just save yourself."
He takes a moment to consider it before he nods. There's a lifeline waiting for him, all he has to do is take it.
He does.
Sometimes, saving a life does help. Sometimes, it doesn't.
Slowly, he learns to live again.
And sometimes, just sometimes, that's enough.
END
x-posted to: dark_aegis, torch_wood, dwfiction
Author: Gillian Taylor
Character/Pairing: Jack Harkness, Tenth Doctor
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Children of Earth (Pt 5)
Summary: He knows why the Doctor runs.
Disclaimer: Don't own them. I just like playing with them...a lot.
A/N: This jumped into my head after watching Children of Earth and I couldn't stop myself from writing it. This is the first time in months that I've been able to turn out a fic this fast. Thanks, as always, to my wonderful BR wendymr. I couldn't've done this without her.
"Damaged Goods"
by Gillian Taylor
He knows why the Doctor does it now. Why he runs and never, ever stops running.
This is why. Because staying in one place means you have to live with the consequences of your actions. Because staying in one place hurts too damned much.
Did the Doctor ever have children? Did he have a daughter? Did the Doctor hurt his daughter like he hurt his own? Did he ever sacrifice someone who meant so damned much to him that...
A sound escapes his lips that's neither a scream nor a cry, but a bastardization of both. His daughter, Alice, will never look at him again. Never see him as anything other than the bastard who killed her son. He can't blame her for that. He's the bastard who did it, after all.
He can't even stand on Earth any more. Can't be there where all that happened, where he sacrificed so much, where he found a choice he couldn't, but had to, make. He runs. Far, far away, as fast as the closest ship can take him.
He'll take a new name. Be someone else. Someone who never had to do what he did. Someone, anyone, other than himself.
He runs. And he supposes that's all he can do.
He steps off the ship onto a space station. It's as far from Earth as its possible to get without refuelling and that's good. No, that's brilliant. This is exactly where he needs to be.
But that's when he sees the child. The boy looks nothing like Steven, but he thinks he sees an echo of Alice's condemnation and Steven's confusion in the child's eyes. He can't do this any more.
Gritting his teeth, he turns and finds the closest ship that's leaving and hitches a ride. Somewhere where there's no children. That should help.
He finds a planet where there are no children. There are only adults struggling to make their lives in an unforgiving atmosphere, and that's good. He can live here.
He tells whoever asks that his name is Steven Jones. Even though the name hurts, it's a good hurt. He can't change the past, but he'll carry it with him every time someone calls his name. It's good, really. Best thing for him.
A few years pass, and he thinks he might be able to sleep at least through the night without waking up because of his nightmares. He doesn't see Steven in everyone's face, or see Alice's eyes staring back at him, full of hatred. He doesn't see Ianto looking back at him as he dies. Distance makes the pain fade, or so he thinks.
When one of the settlers tells the colony that she's pregnant, he decides it's time to leave.
He tells them goodbye one morning, not saying why he's leaving after all this time, but telling them he has to.
Maybe they'll mourn his loss. Maybe they won't.
He doesn't care.
In all of time and space, he never expected to find him here. Had to happen, though. It's a given, really. The Doctor will turn up when you least expect it.
There are no megalomaniacs or alien invasions or anything on this planet that should've attracted him. There's just soiled goods in the form of a man who once went by the name Captain Jack Harkness.
He doesn't know why he doesn't leave the instant he spots the TARDIS. Instead, he stays, watching the familiar double doors. He can't bring himself to knock.
"Are you going to stand there all day, or are you going to come in?" a familiar voice asks from just behind him.
He stiffens. He's slipping, but he's been slipping since...well, since. Before, he would've known that someone was coming up behind him. Before, he would've cared. "Can't. Lost my key a while back," he settles for saying.
"Ah. C'mon, then. In you go," the Doctor says as he steps around him, a familiar profile in brown pin-stripes. The Time Lord moves to the TARDIS and opens the doors, swinging them wide.
The Doctor pauses there, turning around to face him. "Coming?"
There's a part of him that wants to step forward, but the majority of him wants to stay right here. He shakes his head and sighs. "I can't," he says.
"Why not?" There's no condemnation there. Only confusion. "Not like I bite."
The old Jack Harkness would leap all over that comment with some sort of new innuendo. Steven Jones says nothing.
"Jack?"
"How can you stand to look at humans, Doctor?" The question comes out of nowhere.
The Doctor blinks. "Love humans, actually. They're brilliant. Why wouldn't I want to look at them?"
"You know what humans are capable of, yet you say you love us. Where the fuck were you, Doctor? Where were you when the 456 came?" Thousands of other demands, other questions, spring to mind, but he gives voice to none of them. Why didn't you stop me? Why didn't you save my grandson? Why didn't you save the Earth, like you always do?
"What happened, Jack?" The Doctor leaves the security of the TARDIS and comes to him, standing right before him. There's no condemnation in his voice or in his eyes. There doesn't have to be.
Jack condemns himself more than enough for both of them.
He doesn't know what spurs him to tell the Doctor everything. A desire for forgiveness? Or a desire for more condemnation? He doesn't know any more. "A species called the 456 came to Earth. They wanted our children. 10%, they said. I tried to stop them. I did. I kept hoping you'd be there, but... you weren't. I had to make a choice. For the good of the fucking many. And you know what? It doesn't help. I killed a child to stop the 456, Doctor. My own grandson. What does that make me, Doctor? I chose to kill a child. Me. No-one else. Because there was no-one else to make the choice. It was 10% of Earth's children or one. And I made the bloody choice."
There's a rustle of fabric and suddenly he finds himself wrapped in the Doctor's arms. "Jack, I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. No-one should ever find themselves faced with a choice like that."
He remains stiff within the Doctor's arms. He can't accept comfort. Not now, not ever. "I know why you do it now, Doctor. I know why you run. I've been running ever since. Does it ever start to help? Do you ever start to forget? Do you ever learn how to forgive yourself?"
The Doctor sighs against him and pulls away, just enough so he can see his face. "It starts to hurt a little less as time goes by, but do you ever forget? No, never. Do you ever forgive yourself?" The Time Lord seems to be struggling with words before he admits quietly, "No, never."
That's what he thought.
"I can't stay in one place any more. I can't even go back to Earth," Jack says. "I keep seeing Steven around every corner. I keep seeing Alice, looking at me with hatred in her eyes. I can't do it any more, Doctor. And I can't do anything about it. The only release I might possibly get is death, and that's not permanent. Not with me."
"You don't have to stay in one place," the Doctor says. "I always said I only take the best, Jack. Care for another go? Travel in the TARDIS, just like before?"
He sighs. "Can't be like before, Doctor. I'm a murderer."
The Doctor's hands move to his shoulders, where they tighten. "So am I." The Doctor's brown eyes are full of darkness and pain and understanding.
"How do you move on, then, Doctor?" he asks. "How do you live with yourself after something like that?" After killing a child. A child!
"You live with yourself because you have to. Because there's no other choice. You learn from what happened and try your damnedest to avoid letting it happen again. Sometimes you succeed. Sometimes you don't. And because you know what would've happened if you hadn't made that choice. Because if you didn't do what you did, the consequences would've been far worse."
"Doesn't excuse what happened." It doesn't alleviate his pain, his suffering. It doesn't bring Steven back to life. It doesn't make Alice love him again.
"Course it doesn't. That's the problem with this sort of life. You make the choices no-one else can. Someone else might've chosen to find another child, someone else's son or daughter, just to try to save themselves some measure of pain. You didn't do that. Even though you knew what would happen, what you'd lose, you did it anyway. Doesn't mean it doesn't hurt. It was the only choice you could make."
"You forgive me?" Jack asks in shock.
The Doctor closes his eyes for a moment before opening them again. "There's nothing to forgive. If I'd been there..."
Would the Doctor have found another way? Would he have been able to save all the children of the world with just a wave of his sonic screwdriver and a lot of babbling? He doesn't know. He can't know.
What was it that they always said at the Time Agency? Ah, yes, second guessing yourself will kill you.
Too bad he can't die.
"You weren't," Jack says.
"No, I wasn't," the Doctor agrees. "And for that, I'm sorry."
If only he could lay the blame on the Doctor's feet. He wasn't there when he was needed. It was the Time Lord's fault that he was forced to make that choice. But he can't do that, can he? Jack's the one who was there.
He's the one who made that damned choice.
He's the one who killed Steven to save 10% of the world's children.
Him.
Jack Harkness. Steven Jones. Doesn't matter the name. The blame stays the same.
"There was no other choice," the Doctor says. "You've got to remind yourself of that, even if you never forgive yourself. The only thing you can do is try to make sure it never happens again."
Jack sighs and shakes his head. "How can I, Doctor? I'm damaged goods."
The Doctor's hands tighten once more as he gives him a little shake. "No, you're not. Little bruised, maybe, but damaged beyond repair? Nope. Don't think so. There is something you can do, though."
"What?" he asks.
"Come with me. Just for one trip," the Doctor says, stepping back and offering him his hand. "I found something that helps, even a little bit."
"What's that?"
"Something a good friend once taught me. Sometimes, in saving a life, you might just save yourself."
He takes a moment to consider it before he nods. There's a lifeline waiting for him, all he has to do is take it.
He does.
Sometimes, saving a life does help. Sometimes, it doesn't.
Slowly, he learns to live again.
And sometimes, just sometimes, that's enough.
END
x-posted to: dark_aegis, torch_wood, dwfiction