[fic] Time Lord Victorious
Title: Time Lord Victorious
Author: noscrubs12345
awdt Christmas Quickie #4: bottle of wine/spirits
Word Count: 1421
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Language, canon character death, angst like whoa
Summary: The path to hell is paved with good intentions. The Doctor should know that by now.
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by Russell T Davies and the BBC. No copyright or trademark infringement is intended and no money is being made.
Notes: This was extremely difficult to right. You may need tissues. (But I promise Jack/Ianto fluff Tuesdayish!)
~~~~~~~~~
Gwen felt tears spring to her eyes the moment she entered the small hotel room somewhere outside of San Francisco proper. She wasn’t sure if it was because of the overpowering, cloying scent of cheap wine permeating the air or the sight of the man she once thought unbreakable curled into himself on the couch. She dabbed at her eyes with the edge of her sleeve and tried to breathe through her mouth.
“Jack?” she called quietly, knocking on the doorframe.
“Go away, Gwen,” he said, voice muffled and slurred by the two almost empty bottles beside the coffee table. He’d lost weight since the last time she’d seen him and his hair looked as if it hadn’t been washed in days. His eyes were red, dark circles under them, tear tracks shining against his pale and ruddy cheeks.
She sighed, steeling herself, and ran a hand through her hair. “No, Jack,” she said and crossed the room. One hand went to her stomach as she rearranged the wine bottles and sat on the coffee table. “I’m not letting you drink yourself to death.”
“Then will you shoot me, please?” Jack said, voice thick and eyes shining with tears as he stared up at her. “Preferably through the heart. I promise I won’t hold it against you.”
Gwen looked down at her boots, unable to meet his gaze. She let out a shaky breath as she looked back up, not bothering to wipe away the tear that slipped from one eye.
“I can’t, Jack,” she said, reaching out to brush the hair from his forehead. Tears stung at her eyes, flooding her vision as he flinched away from the contact.
“You would have once,” he whispered and reached for one of the bottles beside her.
Gwen snatched it before he could grab it and, leaning back with some difficulty, sat it on the floor on the opposite side of the table. “H-he’d kill you himself if he saw you like this,” she said, her breath hitching.
“Never,” Jack said in a tone reserved for intergalactic criminals come through the Rift. He sat up, drawing his knees to his chest and wrapping his arm around them. “I’m not coming back, Gwen. I’m through with Torchwood.”
“I’m not here to beg you to come back,” Gwen said, unable to stop the shaking of her shoulders. He looked so young, and the emptiness in his eyes was out of place on such boyish features.
“Then what are you doing here? How’d you find me?”
Gwen sobbed at the venom in his voice. “Let’s j-just say a mutual friend is worried about you.”
“Then you can tell him to go to hell,” Jack said, jumping to his feet and stalking over to the window. “He should’ve been there! We needed him and he wasn’t there!”
Gwen was on her feet the moment the sobs started wracking the captain’s body. Jack slumped into her arms, clinging to her.
“He says he couldn’t have changed things,” she said, cradling his head to her shoulder and rubbing soothing circles along his back. She wondered if her voice sounded as hollow as he belief in the man’s words. “He couldn’t have saved him, and I know Ianto wouldn’t have wanted this, Jack. Punishing yourself isn’t going to bring him back. God knows it won’t.” She heaved a shuddering breath, trying to stop her own tears and failing.
“I love him, Gwen,” he whispered into her hair. “I love him and I couldn’t even tell him. I’m a bloody coward. I couldn’t even tell him. I love him so much, Gwen.”
Gwen helped him to the sofa as his knees gave out. She held him until he cried himself to exhausted sleep, intermittently offering meaningless words of comfort despite her own tears.
***
The Doctor stood as he saw Gwen exit the lifts. He shifted his weight from foot to foot as she stalked towards him, wiping angrily at her mascara smudged eyes.
“So,” he said, drawing out the word and rocking back on his heels, “how is he?”
He knew he deserved the punch she swung at him.
“You bastard!” she shouted, and he knew they were drawing looks from the staff and other guests in the lobby. “You sodding bastard!”
“I know,” he whispered, one hand rubbing at his aching cheek. “I should have been there.”
“But you weren’t,” she said through the tears she was desperately trying to hold back. “We needed you and you weren’t there!”
He sighed, feeling his age for once, and tried to pull the woman into an embrace. He wasn’t surprised when she pushed him away though, her tears finally breaking free.
“Now I know why the Queen founded Torchwood,” she said, her teary eyes hard and glittering in the fairy lights decorating the lobby. “I hate you. It’s your hands Ianto’s blood is on. His death, that’s all you, Doctor, as far as I’m concerned. And Jack? Oh, he’s just fine, Doctor. Peachy keen. Never been better. He’ll live no thanks to you. He’ll always live. Bastard.”
“I can’t change that,” the Doctor said, running a hand through his hair and casting a nervous glance at the audience they’d attracted. “Believe me, I would if I could but I can’t. What happened in London had to because if you lot are ever going to make it into the stars then you’re going to have to realise I’m not going to be there every time something bad happens. You need to fight your own battles.”
Gwen was silent for a moment, staring at him blankly. When she finally blinked he could see something go out in her eyes. “Doctor,” she whispered, rubbing small circles on her stomach, “take me home. Please. No side trips, just home. Like you promised, remember?”
The Doctor stared at her as she refused to look at him. “Cardiff, nineteenth of December 2010 twenty minutes after you left. Rhys won’t even know you’ve gone.”
“He better not,” Gwen hissed, finally looking at him with something like hatred. It made both his hearts skip a beat. “Otherwise I better not see you around Cardiff.”
The Doctor stuffed his hands into his pockets and tried to ignore Harriet Jones’s voice echoing through his mind. She’d been right. He was only sorry he hadn’t realised that sooner. Maybe then it would have saved his companion the pain he was in. Maybe Gwen Cooper-Williams wouldn’t be standing in front of him, hating the sight of him and realising why he was Torchwood enemy number one. Maybe it would have made no difference at all. Maybe he’s the one that looks tired now.
“I’m sorry,” he said, glancing up only briefly at Gwen. “I’m so sorry. I should have come. I’ve hurt Jack. And I’ve let you down.”
“I thought you were a hero, Doctor,” Gwen said, her voice breaking as she turned and started towards the door. She stopped only briefly to call back, “Was I wrong?”
He followed her out into the dark street, trailing behind her as she walked back to the TARDIS. He didn’t dare look at the lump under her jacket where her Torchwood issue Glock was tucked into her jeans. He was more than certain she wouldn’t hesitate to use it if given the opportunity. He wasn’t surprised when he realised he wouldn’t blame her if she did.
“Was I wrong, Doctor?” she asked again, her tone harsh, as they stopped outside the TARDIS.
The Doctor was silent, trying to reconcile his actions with her words. He’d never claimed to be a hero. He didn’t pretend to be one. He knew he couldn’t save everyone all of the time though he tried. How many lives had he changed over his long life, not all of them for the good?
“Quite possibly,” he said, as the tumblers slid into place and the door opened.
Gwen looked up at him, her face awash with the golden light of the console room. Her hard eyes met his, and a chill went through him.
“I hate you,” she whispered, voice breaking and face crumbling as she began to sob uncontrollably. “God, how I hate you!”
She didn’t resist as he took her arm and lead her to the jump seat, doors clicking shut behind them. He moved to console the after he buckled the seat belt for her, her sobs echoing through the cavernous room. He set the coordinates for Cardiff, both his hearts breaking as the engines whirred in time to her stuttered breaths.
Author: noscrubs12345
awdt Christmas Quickie #4: bottle of wine/spirits
Word Count: 1421
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Language, canon character death, angst like whoa
Summary: The path to hell is paved with good intentions. The Doctor should know that by now.
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by Russell T Davies and the BBC. No copyright or trademark infringement is intended and no money is being made.
Notes: This was extremely difficult to right. You may need tissues. (But I promise Jack/Ianto fluff Tuesdayish!)
~~~~~~~~~
Gwen felt tears spring to her eyes the moment she entered the small hotel room somewhere outside of San Francisco proper. She wasn’t sure if it was because of the overpowering, cloying scent of cheap wine permeating the air or the sight of the man she once thought unbreakable curled into himself on the couch. She dabbed at her eyes with the edge of her sleeve and tried to breathe through her mouth.
“Jack?” she called quietly, knocking on the doorframe.
“Go away, Gwen,” he said, voice muffled and slurred by the two almost empty bottles beside the coffee table. He’d lost weight since the last time she’d seen him and his hair looked as if it hadn’t been washed in days. His eyes were red, dark circles under them, tear tracks shining against his pale and ruddy cheeks.
She sighed, steeling herself, and ran a hand through her hair. “No, Jack,” she said and crossed the room. One hand went to her stomach as she rearranged the wine bottles and sat on the coffee table. “I’m not letting you drink yourself to death.”
“Then will you shoot me, please?” Jack said, voice thick and eyes shining with tears as he stared up at her. “Preferably through the heart. I promise I won’t hold it against you.”
Gwen looked down at her boots, unable to meet his gaze. She let out a shaky breath as she looked back up, not bothering to wipe away the tear that slipped from one eye.
“I can’t, Jack,” she said, reaching out to brush the hair from his forehead. Tears stung at her eyes, flooding her vision as he flinched away from the contact.
“You would have once,” he whispered and reached for one of the bottles beside her.
Gwen snatched it before he could grab it and, leaning back with some difficulty, sat it on the floor on the opposite side of the table. “H-he’d kill you himself if he saw you like this,” she said, her breath hitching.
“Never,” Jack said in a tone reserved for intergalactic criminals come through the Rift. He sat up, drawing his knees to his chest and wrapping his arm around them. “I’m not coming back, Gwen. I’m through with Torchwood.”
“I’m not here to beg you to come back,” Gwen said, unable to stop the shaking of her shoulders. He looked so young, and the emptiness in his eyes was out of place on such boyish features.
“Then what are you doing here? How’d you find me?”
Gwen sobbed at the venom in his voice. “Let’s j-just say a mutual friend is worried about you.”
“Then you can tell him to go to hell,” Jack said, jumping to his feet and stalking over to the window. “He should’ve been there! We needed him and he wasn’t there!”
Gwen was on her feet the moment the sobs started wracking the captain’s body. Jack slumped into her arms, clinging to her.
“He says he couldn’t have changed things,” she said, cradling his head to her shoulder and rubbing soothing circles along his back. She wondered if her voice sounded as hollow as he belief in the man’s words. “He couldn’t have saved him, and I know Ianto wouldn’t have wanted this, Jack. Punishing yourself isn’t going to bring him back. God knows it won’t.” She heaved a shuddering breath, trying to stop her own tears and failing.
“I love him, Gwen,” he whispered into her hair. “I love him and I couldn’t even tell him. I’m a bloody coward. I couldn’t even tell him. I love him so much, Gwen.”
Gwen helped him to the sofa as his knees gave out. She held him until he cried himself to exhausted sleep, intermittently offering meaningless words of comfort despite her own tears.
***
The Doctor stood as he saw Gwen exit the lifts. He shifted his weight from foot to foot as she stalked towards him, wiping angrily at her mascara smudged eyes.
“So,” he said, drawing out the word and rocking back on his heels, “how is he?”
He knew he deserved the punch she swung at him.
“You bastard!” she shouted, and he knew they were drawing looks from the staff and other guests in the lobby. “You sodding bastard!”
“I know,” he whispered, one hand rubbing at his aching cheek. “I should have been there.”
“But you weren’t,” she said through the tears she was desperately trying to hold back. “We needed you and you weren’t there!”
He sighed, feeling his age for once, and tried to pull the woman into an embrace. He wasn’t surprised when she pushed him away though, her tears finally breaking free.
“Now I know why the Queen founded Torchwood,” she said, her teary eyes hard and glittering in the fairy lights decorating the lobby. “I hate you. It’s your hands Ianto’s blood is on. His death, that’s all you, Doctor, as far as I’m concerned. And Jack? Oh, he’s just fine, Doctor. Peachy keen. Never been better. He’ll live no thanks to you. He’ll always live. Bastard.”
“I can’t change that,” the Doctor said, running a hand through his hair and casting a nervous glance at the audience they’d attracted. “Believe me, I would if I could but I can’t. What happened in London had to because if you lot are ever going to make it into the stars then you’re going to have to realise I’m not going to be there every time something bad happens. You need to fight your own battles.”
Gwen was silent for a moment, staring at him blankly. When she finally blinked he could see something go out in her eyes. “Doctor,” she whispered, rubbing small circles on her stomach, “take me home. Please. No side trips, just home. Like you promised, remember?”
The Doctor stared at her as she refused to look at him. “Cardiff, nineteenth of December 2010 twenty minutes after you left. Rhys won’t even know you’ve gone.”
“He better not,” Gwen hissed, finally looking at him with something like hatred. It made both his hearts skip a beat. “Otherwise I better not see you around Cardiff.”
The Doctor stuffed his hands into his pockets and tried to ignore Harriet Jones’s voice echoing through his mind. She’d been right. He was only sorry he hadn’t realised that sooner. Maybe then it would have saved his companion the pain he was in. Maybe Gwen Cooper-Williams wouldn’t be standing in front of him, hating the sight of him and realising why he was Torchwood enemy number one. Maybe it would have made no difference at all. Maybe he’s the one that looks tired now.
“I’m sorry,” he said, glancing up only briefly at Gwen. “I’m so sorry. I should have come. I’ve hurt Jack. And I’ve let you down.”
“I thought you were a hero, Doctor,” Gwen said, her voice breaking as she turned and started towards the door. She stopped only briefly to call back, “Was I wrong?”
He followed her out into the dark street, trailing behind her as she walked back to the TARDIS. He didn’t dare look at the lump under her jacket where her Torchwood issue Glock was tucked into her jeans. He was more than certain she wouldn’t hesitate to use it if given the opportunity. He wasn’t surprised when he realised he wouldn’t blame her if she did.
“Was I wrong, Doctor?” she asked again, her tone harsh, as they stopped outside the TARDIS.
The Doctor was silent, trying to reconcile his actions with her words. He’d never claimed to be a hero. He didn’t pretend to be one. He knew he couldn’t save everyone all of the time though he tried. How many lives had he changed over his long life, not all of them for the good?
“Quite possibly,” he said, as the tumblers slid into place and the door opened.
Gwen looked up at him, her face awash with the golden light of the console room. Her hard eyes met his, and a chill went through him.
“I hate you,” she whispered, voice breaking and face crumbling as she began to sob uncontrollably. “God, how I hate you!”
She didn’t resist as he took her arm and lead her to the jump seat, doors clicking shut behind them. He moved to console the after he buckled the seat belt for her, her sobs echoing through the cavernous room. He set the coordinates for Cardiff, both his hearts breaking as the engines whirred in time to her stuttered breaths.