Death of a Time Traveller (Doctor Who, Jack/Doctor) PG
Title: Death of a Time Traveller
Author: DdraigCoch
Fandom: Doctor Who
Pairing: Jack/Doctor
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: The BBC owns Doctor Who, Torchwood and all characters associated with it. I make no money from this and I intend no harm.
Author's Note: Not my best offering, but here it is anyway. Hope you enjoy. Written in 24 minutes for the 'letting go' challenge.
He’s done this before, and he knows that he’ll do it again, but this time at least there are no tears. There was time enough before the end to say goodbyes, to exchange parting words, last wishes and a final kiss. Funny, of all the people he’d given his heart to he’d thought that he’d be the one to live longest, and die quickest when the time came. Funny because he’d had no idea how wrong he could be.
It had taken weeks of suffering for him to go, but he’d never asked Jack to end it for him, not once. Jack liked to think it was because he hadn’t wanted it, but there was a dark corner of him that told him he’d not asked because he knew what it would do to the immortal. There had been no question of whether he would do it. They both knew that whatever the Doctor asked, the Captain would do.
He heaved the last log into place with a grunt of effort, sweat stinging his eyes. Jack had wanted to lay the old warrior to rest on the planet he’d given so much to save, but the Tardis was too banged up to make the trip and he wasn’t sure he could pilot them there safely even if she was capable of flying. It didn’t matter. Just one more ‘I wish’ to add to a long list of unfulfilled wishes.
The Doctor’s body is impossibly light when he lifts it gently onto the pyre, barely more than a shadow of the creature of fire and passion and rage that he’d had in his arms before. Jack knows that this body is not him any more than the leather jacket or the hightops, but that doesn’t stop him lightly running his fingers lightly through the ginger hair he’d finally gotten.
He doesn’t say anything before jumping down to the ground and going back for the torch which he tosses onto the pyre. It takes time for the fire to take hold, but he has lots of time on his hands. More than enough time to make sure the fire destroys the body, to secure the TARDIS and all the rest of the necessary. Enough time to figure out how he was going face the Doctor the next time their paths cross without turning into a bawling mess. He's done this before, but it never gets easier.
Author: DdraigCoch
Fandom: Doctor Who
Pairing: Jack/Doctor
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: The BBC owns Doctor Who, Torchwood and all characters associated with it. I make no money from this and I intend no harm.
Author's Note: Not my best offering, but here it is anyway. Hope you enjoy. Written in 24 minutes for the 'letting go' challenge.
He’s done this before, and he knows that he’ll do it again, but this time at least there are no tears. There was time enough before the end to say goodbyes, to exchange parting words, last wishes and a final kiss. Funny, of all the people he’d given his heart to he’d thought that he’d be the one to live longest, and die quickest when the time came. Funny because he’d had no idea how wrong he could be.
It had taken weeks of suffering for him to go, but he’d never asked Jack to end it for him, not once. Jack liked to think it was because he hadn’t wanted it, but there was a dark corner of him that told him he’d not asked because he knew what it would do to the immortal. There had been no question of whether he would do it. They both knew that whatever the Doctor asked, the Captain would do.
He heaved the last log into place with a grunt of effort, sweat stinging his eyes. Jack had wanted to lay the old warrior to rest on the planet he’d given so much to save, but the Tardis was too banged up to make the trip and he wasn’t sure he could pilot them there safely even if she was capable of flying. It didn’t matter. Just one more ‘I wish’ to add to a long list of unfulfilled wishes.
The Doctor’s body is impossibly light when he lifts it gently onto the pyre, barely more than a shadow of the creature of fire and passion and rage that he’d had in his arms before. Jack knows that this body is not him any more than the leather jacket or the hightops, but that doesn’t stop him lightly running his fingers lightly through the ginger hair he’d finally gotten.
He doesn’t say anything before jumping down to the ground and going back for the torch which he tosses onto the pyre. It takes time for the fire to take hold, but he has lots of time on his hands. More than enough time to make sure the fire destroys the body, to secure the TARDIS and all the rest of the necessary. Enough time to figure out how he was going face the Doctor the next time their paths cross without turning into a bawling mess. He's done this before, but it never gets easier.