The Cold Heaven 3/10
Story: The Cold Heaven
Author: wmr / wendymr
Characters: Jack Harkness, Rose Tyler, Tenth Doctor (Duplicate), other canon and original characters
Rated: PG13
Disclaimer: I think you all know by now that I don't own them!
Spoilers: DW: up to Journey's End; TW: up to Children of Earth. NO SPOILERS for the DW specials
Summary: "They say black holes are like gateways to another universe" - Rose Tyler, The Impossible Planet
With very many thanks to dark_aegis, kae_nine and yamx for beta-reading beyond the call of duty. And a huge apology to everyone who was reading this story when I first started posting in September last year. I've never abandoned a story mid-posting before and I hope I never will again. I've almost finished writing it now and have several chapters in hand, so I expect to be able to post on a regular schedule until it's all up. Thank you all for your lovely feedback on the first two chapters and your patience in waiting for more.
Chapter 1: Gateway l Chapter 2: Impossible and Immovable
Chapter 3: Truth and Daring
The Doctor and Rose, here. He’d pinch himself if he could reach even half an inch of his own skin.
But how? How did they find him? And when the hell is it for them? It’s obviously not before Canary Wharf; the Doctor’s reference to seeing him in chains made that clear. But Rose was in that parallel universe then. Oh, sure, she made it back somehow or other that time when the Daleks moved all the planets, but she didn’t stay. The rumour that reached him - not that the Doctor bothered to tell him personally - was that she’d gone back to the other universe, taking the human, or half-human, Doctor with her.
She’s come back again? Or did the Doctor go and find her? Not that that would be much of a surprise. It was always Rose for him, after all. No-one else even came close. Oh, he cares about all of them, and his being here today is proof of that, but Rose is just in a different league.
So if it’s not before Canary Wharf for the Doctor and Rose, then it could be any time after the Valiant. And he did know the Doctor was looking for him, didn’t he? Better just assume that the Doctor knows about the 456, and about what he had to do to destroy them - but so what? It’s not as if anything can make him feel more shit than he does already. And it’s not as if he either wants or is likely to get an invitation to stick around once the Doctor gets him out of this place. A quick thanks, see you around in the next millennium or two will suffice. Shame his Vortex manipulator didn’t survive the black hole, but that’s the way it goes.
There’s one thing that’s odd, though. He’s never seen this Doctor wearing anything other than the blue or brown pinstriped suit - yet today he’s wearing a long-sleeved button-down shirt and dark chinos. Not a pinstripe in sight, and no tie or jacket. A permanent wardrobe change?
The door unlocks again. The Doctor back, already?
Two figures walk into the room, one carrying a tray, and the instant surge of disappointment makes him curse silently. Shit. He could really do without falling for the Doctor - and Rose, a small voice insists, though he tries to ignore it - all over again.
When the lab lackeys remove some of his chains and offer him food, he eats while calculating his chances of escaping now, before the Doctor and Rose come back. But there are too many people outside still to risk it - and the worst of it is that he can’t decide whether that’s good or bad.
***
“I did that to him? And you never told me?”
The Doctor’s pacing, tugging at his ear, raking his hand through his hair, rubbing his nose - doing everything except actually looking at her. “Yep.”
“No wonder he...! Why the hell didn’t you tell me? Didn’t you think I needed to know what I’d done?”
Oh, god. Oh, god. No wonder Jack hates her. Of course, if the Doctor had told her this back in the days when she was travelling with him she’d have thought it was brilliant. Jack not able to die; Jack no longer in any kind of danger. Both Jack and the Doctor with her for as long as she wanted them and they wanted her, except that Jack wasn’t with them by then - and why was that? Though that’s a question she’s also suspecting that she might know the answer to. That little shudder when the Doctor said immortal, and that reference to not being happy with it... He left Jack behind on purpose, didn’t he?
Jack, immortal, but still able to die. Condemned to die over and over, and to come back to life every time. And at least some of the time he actually volunteers for it; it occurred to her some time ago that he intentionally got himself killed by that Dalek on the Crucible, to buy the Doctor a few seconds of thinking time and also so he could get away and try to help.
Immortal. She’s picked up enough from the Doctor over the years to understand what it means to live longer, far longer, than everyone else, and he told her on the plane that the Jack he last knew was close to a hundred and eighty years old. How many friends, loved ones, has he seen die? And what sort of future does he have to look forward to?
Oh, yes, he’s got every right to hate her.
So much for her plan to make up for lost opportunities, too. No chance that Jack’s going to want to catch up on old times and all their adventures in between. No chance of a goodbye hug, and maybe a kiss too, like the last time they said goodbye.
She winces; that just feels so shallow. How can she be thinking of herself when Jack’s been through so much and it’s all her fault?
“You should have told me,” she tells the Doctor, her voice flat.
He should have, instead of fobbing her off with half-truths, or maybe even lies, about Jack being busy rebuilding the Earth. Maybe he was - it’s a very Jack thing to be doing, after all - but she wasn’t a little girl to be protected, and he should have told her what she’d done and let her take responsibility for her actions.
Though is that actually why he didn’t tell her? Was he protecting her - or himself? After all, if she’d known that he left Jack behind on purpose she’d have made him go back, wouldn’t she? Of course she would, and if she’s interpreted what he’s just told her correctly he was running away from Jack.
Though he must have got over that reaction, since it’s obvious that he and Jack saw each other after that, given how easy they seemed with each other that day when the Earth moved. Well, that’s fine for them, but he - one of him, anyway, whether this Doctor or the Time Lord version - still should have told her what she’d done.
He finally meets her gaze, and his own is implacable. “You didn’t need to know. Now you do, and I’m sorry it’s upset you, but I don’t regret not telling you. Now-” He glances very pointedly at the watch she bought him during his first week in this universe, despite his protests that his time-sense is more accurate than any human-made chronometer. “-we don’t have much time. You do want to rescue Jack, don’t you?”
Of course she does, and furious though she is at the Doctor right now she’s also sensible enough to focus on priorities. She can take this up with him again later. For now, Jack’s far more important. “So, what’s the plan?”
“The plan?” His eyes widen.
“The rescue plan, of course!” Though she knows already: he doesn’t have one. He’ll do what he’s always done, and continues to do now on the few occasions he joins her in the field: ignore procedure and fly by the seat of his pants. Most of the time, it works for him, though her dad hates that he does it.
He smiles now, in that way that he knows she can’t resist. “Ah, we don’t need a plan! Did we have strategy meetings and walk-throughs and protocols every time we beat the Daleks? Or the Slitheen? That’s never how we’ve worked, Rose, and you know it. We’ll get him out.” He steps nearer to her, close enough to touch. “You believe me, don’t you?” His hands fold around hers.
“Yeah.” She sighs; he’s doing it to her again. But she lets him pull her closer so that he can kiss her, a lingering, tender kiss that she knows they don’t have time to follow through with. “But we’re gonna talk about you not telling me things later, all right?”
He touches his forehead to hers. “All right.”
***
It’s not as if he doesn’t agree with her that things are different now. He’s not the Doctor in the same way he was then. He’s not a Time Lord; he’s not travelling in the TARDIS or guardian of time and space. He’s also her... partner, lover, boyfriend, or whatever label society likes to put on the relationship they have. She does have a right to trust that he’ll tell her things now, even if he wouldn’t have before.
It’s also true that, now that he’s part-human - and part-Donna - he sees some things differently. There are decisions he made as a full Time Lord he wouldn’t make now, and that’s not only because Rose has impressed on him the importance of her right to choose for herself.
This thing with Jack, though... no, he never wanted her to know about that. Seriously never planned to tell her the truth, despite her puzzlement and open curiosity about how Jack survived being shot by a Dalek on the Crucible. And, if he’s completely honest, which he’ll admit isn’t always a trait of his, it’s not only because he knows it would upset Rose to find out what she did. It’s also because full disclosure would also mean explaining why he left Satellite Five if he knew that Jack was alive.
Though, knowing Rose, she’s probably already guessed. Ah well. Saves having to explain, doesn’t it?
A quick shower and change for both of them later - separately; together would have been more fun but definitely not as fast - and they’re back in the car and heading to the Space Exploration Centre again. “Should be a lot quieter now,” he says en route. “Yes, any scientist worth their salt would barely be aware of what time it is, but the lab assistants will be long gone. Could tap-dance naked around most research scientists I’ve met and they wouldn’t even know you’re there.”
“Could be fun to see,” Rose retorts. “Shame we didn’t think to buy you tap-shoes.”
He smiles absently; despite his airy comment to Rose about not needing a plan, he’s busy calculating. Number of doors between Jack’s lab-prison, number of security guards and cameras around, the number and type of alarms, how many other staff members are likely to be still on the premises. He and Jack - yes, and Rose - can put up a good fight, of course, but not against several armed guards, even if he can disable most high-tech security systems with his sonic... well, it will be a sonic screwdriver one of these days. If he can work out the guards’ patrol schedule, that will definitely help.
Before they left the hotel, too, he took a close look at their security passes. Not easily forged, he thinks. If they were in London, it would be easy; the Torchwood people would have put together one for Jack in under ten minutes. They’ve got some standard template passes with them - hidden in a compartment in the sole of Rose’s boots - but they need a photo of Jack and access to sophisticated computer equipment to mimic the official passes. Not impossible, though. Absolutely not.
Without warning, Rose crosses two lanes of traffic and takes the next exit, accelerates again and then pulls into a huge car park in what’s some sort of shopping area. “Um... Rose? This isn’t exactly the time,” he begins.
She shakes her head. “We’re gonna need some stuff for Jack.”
In a huge shop called Mark’s Work Wearhouse - he’s tempted to tell them that the mis-spelling isn’t really all that clever - Rose selects a pair of overalls, along with jeans, a T-shirt, underwear and socks, and then seeks his advice to make a guess at Jack’s shoe size. Right. Yes. Be a bit difficult to smuggle him out if he’s still naked, really. “Just as well everything you own has dimensionally-transcendent pockets,” she points out.
“Just as well,” he echoes.
***
The centre’s a lot quieter now, which of course is exactly what they were hoping for. Several corridors and laboratories are in darkness. Professor Carlton’s still there, naturally, but since the woman’s been up since she got called in at around four that morning and it’s now after nine in the evening she’s visibly flagging.
“No need to stay on our account!” the Doctor comments cheerfully as the professor yawns for the fifth time in as many minutes. “You’ve got me the lab I asked for, your security guards are around if we need anything, and you did say there’s a couple of lab assistants still working, didn’t you? We’ll be fine. Can’t see us staying longer than an hour or so, anyway. Still working on British time.” He waves a hand casually. “Nah, I just want to review the results you lot have so far. Then tomorrow morning we’ll be ready for some intensive interrogation of our guest from the future. Go!” He gives her one of his ultra-charming smiles.
After some protests, eventually Carlton leaves. The Doctor grins at Rose as the lab door closes behind the professor. “Good. Was beginning to think I’d have to invent some kind of massive distraction to get rid of her.”
She waits for a couple of minutes, then opens the door an inch or two, just enough to check the hallway outside. “Coast’s clear.”
The Doctor rubs his chin. “Give it a while - make it look like we really are just interested in this load of rubbish.”
She comes back over, sliding into a chair and dragging it next to his so that she can see the monitor in front of him. “What, none of it’s any use?”
“Oh, I didn’t say that. I mean, of course if what you want to know is how often Jack breathes, or pees, or what his blood’s composed of - perfectly normal, everyday erythrocytes, leukocytes, haemoglobin, platelets, plasma and so on, and did you know that Jack’s A-negative? Relatively rare, that, among your lot. It’s just not particularly interesting, and not what I’d be looking at if I had all this equipment at my disposal to examine a mysterious body.”
“Just be grateful they’re not cutting him up into little pieces,” she says with a faint snort.
“Already tried, didn’t they?” He jabs at the monitor. “The tissue sample analysis is there too, as well as DNA. Along with a suggestion that they might consider taking some samples from internal organs if MRIs and CT scans don’t get them any closer to understanding how he survived the black hole.”
She growls, jumping to her feet. “I can’t stand this. They’re treating him like an animal!”
A warm hand folds around hers. “I know. It ends soon, I promise.” She moves closer to him, pressing against his side. “I’m watching the guards,” he explains softly. “Counting how long between rounds. So far it’s consistently twelve minutes and between thirteen and fifty seconds. Oh, and I’ve made a few tweaks to the test results.” He grins, though there’s a steel edge to it. “Just in case they dig a bit deeper - or try to use Jack’s DNA to trace him after we get him out.”
She nods. Of course that’s what he was doing. All of it. Even in this mostly-human body, he still has a Time Lord brain, and he can still multi-task like no-one else she’s ever known.
“Soon,” he promises again, and his fingers squeeze hers.
***
They’ve turned the lights off in his lab. Wonderful. So, just because the people who work here have gone to their comfortable homes and take-away meals and the TV and shagging their significant others, that means the lab-rats don’t need any creature comforts?
Though he should be grateful that they’ve at least bothered to leave him some water and what’s probably a reasonably nutritious, if not very appetising, meal. And getting around’s a lot easier now that he just has leg-irons and a long chain tying one wrist to the wall. Shame he hasn’t got more than the faint glimmer of light from the hallway to find the food they left him.
So much for the Doctor saying he’d be back, too. It’s been hours, and there’s no sign of him. Well, back to Plan B: work out a strategy for overpowering his jailors and getting past everyone else in this damned building. He’ll manage it eventually. It’s not like he doesn’t have all the time in the world, after all.
There’s an odd sound from the door suddenly. It’s not a key being turned, yet a second later there’s a creak as the door opens and light streams into the room. “Bloody hell, it’s dark in here! Jack, you there?”
Rose. They did come back. There’s an ache somewhere inside him. Probably because he didn’t eat enough of what his jailers brought.
“Yeah.” His voice almost cracks on the word. His throat’s dry as a bone. Really should have tried to find that water.
There’s a snap, and the overhead light is suddenly on. He blinks, trying to accustom his eyes. “Oh! They gave you food! And something to wear!”
To listen to the Doctor, anyone would think it was something to be amazed at. They gave him a goddamned lab-coat. And sandwiches.
“Doctor,” Rose says, and it’s clearly a prompt of some sort.
“Oh! Yes!” Now that he’s not seeing haloes everywhere, he can make out the Doctor rummaging in his jacket pockets. Items of clothing - and even a pair of shoes - appear, to be laid down on the lab table. “Hurry and dress, Jack.”
He raises his right hand and rattles the chain pointedly. The Doctor’s mouth twitches, and he produces a little gadget. It’s not the sonic screwdriver, unless he’s redesigned it completely, but it does the job; the metal cuff snaps. Two seconds later, the leg-irons are gone as well.
As he turns to reach for the clothes, out of the corner of his eye he notices Rose turn her back, and it strikes him that before, all those years ago before he was immortal and a murderer, he’d have given her a sexy smile and told her not to bother. Now... well, earlier he said he wanted her out of his sight. Part of him still does.
The trouble is, part of him just wants her to hug him and tell him, like she did all those years ago when she asked him about losing his memories, that everything will be all right.
He believed her then, but he was young and still had too many illusions, for all he thought himself so worldly-wise. Now he knows the truth: nothing will ever be all right again. Not for him, and not for anyone whose life he touches.
The clothes aren’t a great fit, and the overalls look even worse than the T-shirt and tracksuit bottoms he complained to Ianto about. Was he really so egotistical about his own appearance that he cared more about what he wore than the people he was with and the fact that the three of them had risked their lives several times over to rescue him?
Though if he’d stayed in that concrete prison, Ianto and Steven would still be alive. And surely someone - the Doctor, even? Where the hell was the Doctor, anyway? That’s one question he’s definitely going to demand an answer to before he parts company with the two of them - would have found a way to destroy the 456 and save the kids.
As he stands after putting on the shoes - a bit too large, but the laces will hold them in place - the Doctor looks relieved. “Good! Right! Time to get out of here.”
“Wait.” Rose, turned to face him again, reaches into a pocket. “This won’t survive any kind of close examination, but it’ll do at a distance.” It’s a security ID. She comes to stand in front of him while she attaches it, so close he can smell the subtle fragrance she wears - much more expensive than the cheap chain-store variety she wore in their TARDIS days, but didn’t Mickey tell him that her dad in that parallel universe was a multi-millionaire?
He deliberately looks away. This is the woman who thoughtlessly condemned him to a never-ending life sentence with no hope of reprieve. The Rose he lived and laughed with on the TARDIS - and loved - doesn’t exist. That Rose would never have wanted this for him.
As soon as she’s finished, he steps back, away from her. It strikes him that he hasn’t even acknowledged her presence in the room, other than answering when she first called to him. “All right, Doctor, lead the way.”
It’s a quick, though cautious exit. Rose goes in front, checking that the way’s clear and no guards or other staff are around. The Doctor’s got that strange-looking device of his in his hand, and every so often he zaps a camera with it - okay, so it works the same as the sonic screwdriver, anyway. Close to the exit, Rose gestures to them to halt, then comes back to confer with the Doctor. “Two guards at the desk.”
The Doctor grins. “No problem.” He spins on his heel and darts along another hallway. Seconds later, an alarm sounds, and he reappears, an even wider grin splitting his face. He doesn’t even stop running, grabbing Rose’s and Jack’s arms as he rushes past and tugging them with him, back into an alcove. Just in time, too, as one of the guards sprints past.
“Sabotaged the camera as well as setting off the alarm,” the Doctor explains, then ushers them forward again. As they emerge into the entrance-hall, which is lit dimly now, the Doctor strolls over to the security desk. “Evening! Hope we’ve not been causing you too much trouble by being here. Sorry to put you to yet more trouble, but I wonder if you could take a look at this for me and tell me the quickest way to get there.”
Clever bastard, engaging the guard in conversation. Making him look away from the scene in front of him.
“Go,” Rose murmurs in his ear. With barely a nod, he starts forward, doing his best not to shuffle in the over-large shoes. He looks straight ahead, acknowledging neither the Doctor nor the security guard. Ten steps - just under three seconds - and he’s outside; just another maintenance grunt leaving the building. Of course, in any facility with half-decent security precautions he’d have to swipe himself out, but the Doctor’s probably doing something to avoid the need for that.. Two seconds later, Rose is behind him, and moments later the Doctor’s there too.
He’s already looking around the car park and frowning, though. Where is it? Surely the Doctor wouldn’t have landed it all that far away, knowing they’d need a quick getaway. “Where’s the TARDIS?”
Rose and the Doctor exchange an odd look, and he just knows that he’s missing something. The uneasy feeling that’s been there in his gut since they first appeared in his room intensifies. The Doctor’s strange dress. Rose’s presence. The fact that they both seem different from what he remembers.
He’s got a strong suspicion that he’s already guessed the answer before the Doctor speaks.
“We don’t have a TARDIS, Jack. You’re not in your universe any more. When you fell into that black hole - or whatever happened that got you in there - you came out on the other side, into another universe.” The Doctor tugs on his ear. “Captain Jack Harkness, welcome to Pete’s World.”
***
Of course Jack didn’t realise. Why should he? Yes, he knew the other universe existed, but why should it occur to him that he’s ended up here? Or that the Doctor who’s just rescued him is the half-human duplicate of the Time Lord he knows.
“We need to get out of here.” Rose nudges him. “Hurry, before they notice Jack’s gone.”
“Right, right.” He glances sideways at Jack. “This way.” As the three of them hurry across the car park together, he adds, mouth turned down at the corners, “Oh, and in case you hadn’t realised, I’m not the Doctor you thought I was, either. Though I suppose you could say you know me well, all the same. After all, you did have the hand I grew from on your desk for - what, two years?”
“Yeah, worked that out,” Jack says flatly.
Oh, yes, there’s definitely something badly wrong with Captain Jack Harkness. In all the time he’s known the man, there’s no way he would ever have let that kind of opportunity go by without a suggestive comeback.
Once they’re in the car, with Jack in the back seat, Rose drives out of the car park and accelerates as soon as they’re on the road. “Have to go back to the hotel to pick up our stuff and so Jack can change, but we’d better check out and find somewhere else for tonight. Can’t risk them tracing us there.”
“We could just go straight to the airport,” he suggests. “Might be a flight we can take.”
“Not gonna be that easy.” Rose glances back over her shoulder very briefly. There’s tension in her eyes and in the set of her jaw, and the silence from the back seat’s almost deafening. “Jack doesn’t have a passport. Wish I’d thought of that before we left London. Damn!” She slams her palms against the steering-wheel. “Wouldn’t have taken Mark more than ten minutes to do it.”
Passports. All those idiotic pieces of paper humans need to live their lives. That he needs now, too. He’s got a passport, of course, as well as a driving licence, bank cards, credit cards, national insurance number cards, supermarket loyalty cards and even a card that gets him into Torchwood. Cards that tell people where you shop, how much money you have and who you work for, and even who you are, just in case you forget.
“I don’t know what you’ve got in mind, but you can just drop me off anywhere you like. I appreciate the rescue, but I can take it from here.” Jack’s tone suggests he’s not inviting argument. And, yet again, it raises a very, very big question. What on earth has happened to him? They were a team, the three of them. Even after Rose was gone, Jack was still his friend. And now he can’t wait to get away from them? He’s barely able to speak politely to them?
And he thought, too, that Jack didn’t blame Rose for what she did, giving him immortality. She didn’t know what she was doing, after all. She only wanted a dear friend not to be dead. Yes, she went too far, and she shouldn’t have played around with forces far too powerful for her to understand, but she did it out of nothing more than love.
“Sorry. Can’t do that.” He turns in his seat and flashes Jack a none-too-apologetic grin. “Parallel universe. Could be another you around about somewhere. Though most likely in the fifty-first century, I suppose, but if that you is a Time Agent too he could be anywhere. Can’t risk the two of you running into each other, I’m afraid. Sorry!”
Jack’s expression twists into something bitter and hard. That, too, is so incongruous, just as the overalls are in place of the man’s accustomed period military apparel. “So, what? I’m your prisoner now?”
“Jack!” Rose exclaims, sounding hurt and angry, though he notes that her attention’s still completely on the road as she breaks the speed limit by just the right amount to avoid police attention. “You’re not our prisoner! You’re our friend, damn it, and we want to help you.”
“Yep,” he agrees. “And to do that, we have to work out how you ended up in this universe - and find a way to send you back home.”
Jack’s silent long enough for Rose to pull off the main road and start navigating her way through the northern suburb of Ottawa where their hotel’s located. Then he says, so quietly he’s not even sure that the Captain intended to be heard, “What if I don’t want to go back?”
***
tbc in Chapter 4: Flight
Author: wmr / wendymr
Characters: Jack Harkness, Rose Tyler, Tenth Doctor (Duplicate), other canon and original characters
Rated: PG13
Disclaimer: I think you all know by now that I don't own them!
Spoilers: DW: up to Journey's End; TW: up to Children of Earth. NO SPOILERS for the DW specials
Summary: "They say black holes are like gateways to another universe" - Rose Tyler, The Impossible Planet
With very many thanks to dark_aegis, kae_nine and yamx for beta-reading beyond the call of duty. And a huge apology to everyone who was reading this story when I first started posting in September last year. I've never abandoned a story mid-posting before and I hope I never will again. I've almost finished writing it now and have several chapters in hand, so I expect to be able to post on a regular schedule until it's all up. Thank you all for your lovely feedback on the first two chapters and your patience in waiting for more.
Chapter 1: Gateway l Chapter 2: Impossible and Immovable
Chapter 3: Truth and Daring
The Doctor and Rose, here. He’d pinch himself if he could reach even half an inch of his own skin.
But how? How did they find him? And when the hell is it for them? It’s obviously not before Canary Wharf; the Doctor’s reference to seeing him in chains made that clear. But Rose was in that parallel universe then. Oh, sure, she made it back somehow or other that time when the Daleks moved all the planets, but she didn’t stay. The rumour that reached him - not that the Doctor bothered to tell him personally - was that she’d gone back to the other universe, taking the human, or half-human, Doctor with her.
She’s come back again? Or did the Doctor go and find her? Not that that would be much of a surprise. It was always Rose for him, after all. No-one else even came close. Oh, he cares about all of them, and his being here today is proof of that, but Rose is just in a different league.
So if it’s not before Canary Wharf for the Doctor and Rose, then it could be any time after the Valiant. And he did know the Doctor was looking for him, didn’t he? Better just assume that the Doctor knows about the 456, and about what he had to do to destroy them - but so what? It’s not as if anything can make him feel more shit than he does already. And it’s not as if he either wants or is likely to get an invitation to stick around once the Doctor gets him out of this place. A quick thanks, see you around in the next millennium or two will suffice. Shame his Vortex manipulator didn’t survive the black hole, but that’s the way it goes.
There’s one thing that’s odd, though. He’s never seen this Doctor wearing anything other than the blue or brown pinstriped suit - yet today he’s wearing a long-sleeved button-down shirt and dark chinos. Not a pinstripe in sight, and no tie or jacket. A permanent wardrobe change?
The door unlocks again. The Doctor back, already?
Two figures walk into the room, one carrying a tray, and the instant surge of disappointment makes him curse silently. Shit. He could really do without falling for the Doctor - and Rose, a small voice insists, though he tries to ignore it - all over again.
When the lab lackeys remove some of his chains and offer him food, he eats while calculating his chances of escaping now, before the Doctor and Rose come back. But there are too many people outside still to risk it - and the worst of it is that he can’t decide whether that’s good or bad.
***
“I did that to him? And you never told me?”
The Doctor’s pacing, tugging at his ear, raking his hand through his hair, rubbing his nose - doing everything except actually looking at her. “Yep.”
“No wonder he...! Why the hell didn’t you tell me? Didn’t you think I needed to know what I’d done?”
Oh, god. Oh, god. No wonder Jack hates her. Of course, if the Doctor had told her this back in the days when she was travelling with him she’d have thought it was brilliant. Jack not able to die; Jack no longer in any kind of danger. Both Jack and the Doctor with her for as long as she wanted them and they wanted her, except that Jack wasn’t with them by then - and why was that? Though that’s a question she’s also suspecting that she might know the answer to. That little shudder when the Doctor said immortal, and that reference to not being happy with it... He left Jack behind on purpose, didn’t he?
Jack, immortal, but still able to die. Condemned to die over and over, and to come back to life every time. And at least some of the time he actually volunteers for it; it occurred to her some time ago that he intentionally got himself killed by that Dalek on the Crucible, to buy the Doctor a few seconds of thinking time and also so he could get away and try to help.
Immortal. She’s picked up enough from the Doctor over the years to understand what it means to live longer, far longer, than everyone else, and he told her on the plane that the Jack he last knew was close to a hundred and eighty years old. How many friends, loved ones, has he seen die? And what sort of future does he have to look forward to?
Oh, yes, he’s got every right to hate her.
So much for her plan to make up for lost opportunities, too. No chance that Jack’s going to want to catch up on old times and all their adventures in between. No chance of a goodbye hug, and maybe a kiss too, like the last time they said goodbye.
She winces; that just feels so shallow. How can she be thinking of herself when Jack’s been through so much and it’s all her fault?
“You should have told me,” she tells the Doctor, her voice flat.
He should have, instead of fobbing her off with half-truths, or maybe even lies, about Jack being busy rebuilding the Earth. Maybe he was - it’s a very Jack thing to be doing, after all - but she wasn’t a little girl to be protected, and he should have told her what she’d done and let her take responsibility for her actions.
Though is that actually why he didn’t tell her? Was he protecting her - or himself? After all, if she’d known that he left Jack behind on purpose she’d have made him go back, wouldn’t she? Of course she would, and if she’s interpreted what he’s just told her correctly he was running away from Jack.
Though he must have got over that reaction, since it’s obvious that he and Jack saw each other after that, given how easy they seemed with each other that day when the Earth moved. Well, that’s fine for them, but he - one of him, anyway, whether this Doctor or the Time Lord version - still should have told her what she’d done.
He finally meets her gaze, and his own is implacable. “You didn’t need to know. Now you do, and I’m sorry it’s upset you, but I don’t regret not telling you. Now-” He glances very pointedly at the watch she bought him during his first week in this universe, despite his protests that his time-sense is more accurate than any human-made chronometer. “-we don’t have much time. You do want to rescue Jack, don’t you?”
Of course she does, and furious though she is at the Doctor right now she’s also sensible enough to focus on priorities. She can take this up with him again later. For now, Jack’s far more important. “So, what’s the plan?”
“The plan?” His eyes widen.
“The rescue plan, of course!” Though she knows already: he doesn’t have one. He’ll do what he’s always done, and continues to do now on the few occasions he joins her in the field: ignore procedure and fly by the seat of his pants. Most of the time, it works for him, though her dad hates that he does it.
He smiles now, in that way that he knows she can’t resist. “Ah, we don’t need a plan! Did we have strategy meetings and walk-throughs and protocols every time we beat the Daleks? Or the Slitheen? That’s never how we’ve worked, Rose, and you know it. We’ll get him out.” He steps nearer to her, close enough to touch. “You believe me, don’t you?” His hands fold around hers.
“Yeah.” She sighs; he’s doing it to her again. But she lets him pull her closer so that he can kiss her, a lingering, tender kiss that she knows they don’t have time to follow through with. “But we’re gonna talk about you not telling me things later, all right?”
He touches his forehead to hers. “All right.”
***
It’s not as if he doesn’t agree with her that things are different now. He’s not the Doctor in the same way he was then. He’s not a Time Lord; he’s not travelling in the TARDIS or guardian of time and space. He’s also her... partner, lover, boyfriend, or whatever label society likes to put on the relationship they have. She does have a right to trust that he’ll tell her things now, even if he wouldn’t have before.
It’s also true that, now that he’s part-human - and part-Donna - he sees some things differently. There are decisions he made as a full Time Lord he wouldn’t make now, and that’s not only because Rose has impressed on him the importance of her right to choose for herself.
This thing with Jack, though... no, he never wanted her to know about that. Seriously never planned to tell her the truth, despite her puzzlement and open curiosity about how Jack survived being shot by a Dalek on the Crucible. And, if he’s completely honest, which he’ll admit isn’t always a trait of his, it’s not only because he knows it would upset Rose to find out what she did. It’s also because full disclosure would also mean explaining why he left Satellite Five if he knew that Jack was alive.
Though, knowing Rose, she’s probably already guessed. Ah well. Saves having to explain, doesn’t it?
A quick shower and change for both of them later - separately; together would have been more fun but definitely not as fast - and they’re back in the car and heading to the Space Exploration Centre again. “Should be a lot quieter now,” he says en route. “Yes, any scientist worth their salt would barely be aware of what time it is, but the lab assistants will be long gone. Could tap-dance naked around most research scientists I’ve met and they wouldn’t even know you’re there.”
“Could be fun to see,” Rose retorts. “Shame we didn’t think to buy you tap-shoes.”
He smiles absently; despite his airy comment to Rose about not needing a plan, he’s busy calculating. Number of doors between Jack’s lab-prison, number of security guards and cameras around, the number and type of alarms, how many other staff members are likely to be still on the premises. He and Jack - yes, and Rose - can put up a good fight, of course, but not against several armed guards, even if he can disable most high-tech security systems with his sonic... well, it will be a sonic screwdriver one of these days. If he can work out the guards’ patrol schedule, that will definitely help.
Before they left the hotel, too, he took a close look at their security passes. Not easily forged, he thinks. If they were in London, it would be easy; the Torchwood people would have put together one for Jack in under ten minutes. They’ve got some standard template passes with them - hidden in a compartment in the sole of Rose’s boots - but they need a photo of Jack and access to sophisticated computer equipment to mimic the official passes. Not impossible, though. Absolutely not.
Without warning, Rose crosses two lanes of traffic and takes the next exit, accelerates again and then pulls into a huge car park in what’s some sort of shopping area. “Um... Rose? This isn’t exactly the time,” he begins.
She shakes her head. “We’re gonna need some stuff for Jack.”
In a huge shop called Mark’s Work Wearhouse - he’s tempted to tell them that the mis-spelling isn’t really all that clever - Rose selects a pair of overalls, along with jeans, a T-shirt, underwear and socks, and then seeks his advice to make a guess at Jack’s shoe size. Right. Yes. Be a bit difficult to smuggle him out if he’s still naked, really. “Just as well everything you own has dimensionally-transcendent pockets,” she points out.
“Just as well,” he echoes.
***
The centre’s a lot quieter now, which of course is exactly what they were hoping for. Several corridors and laboratories are in darkness. Professor Carlton’s still there, naturally, but since the woman’s been up since she got called in at around four that morning and it’s now after nine in the evening she’s visibly flagging.
“No need to stay on our account!” the Doctor comments cheerfully as the professor yawns for the fifth time in as many minutes. “You’ve got me the lab I asked for, your security guards are around if we need anything, and you did say there’s a couple of lab assistants still working, didn’t you? We’ll be fine. Can’t see us staying longer than an hour or so, anyway. Still working on British time.” He waves a hand casually. “Nah, I just want to review the results you lot have so far. Then tomorrow morning we’ll be ready for some intensive interrogation of our guest from the future. Go!” He gives her one of his ultra-charming smiles.
After some protests, eventually Carlton leaves. The Doctor grins at Rose as the lab door closes behind the professor. “Good. Was beginning to think I’d have to invent some kind of massive distraction to get rid of her.”
She waits for a couple of minutes, then opens the door an inch or two, just enough to check the hallway outside. “Coast’s clear.”
The Doctor rubs his chin. “Give it a while - make it look like we really are just interested in this load of rubbish.”
She comes back over, sliding into a chair and dragging it next to his so that she can see the monitor in front of him. “What, none of it’s any use?”
“Oh, I didn’t say that. I mean, of course if what you want to know is how often Jack breathes, or pees, or what his blood’s composed of - perfectly normal, everyday erythrocytes, leukocytes, haemoglobin, platelets, plasma and so on, and did you know that Jack’s A-negative? Relatively rare, that, among your lot. It’s just not particularly interesting, and not what I’d be looking at if I had all this equipment at my disposal to examine a mysterious body.”
“Just be grateful they’re not cutting him up into little pieces,” she says with a faint snort.
“Already tried, didn’t they?” He jabs at the monitor. “The tissue sample analysis is there too, as well as DNA. Along with a suggestion that they might consider taking some samples from internal organs if MRIs and CT scans don’t get them any closer to understanding how he survived the black hole.”
She growls, jumping to her feet. “I can’t stand this. They’re treating him like an animal!”
A warm hand folds around hers. “I know. It ends soon, I promise.” She moves closer to him, pressing against his side. “I’m watching the guards,” he explains softly. “Counting how long between rounds. So far it’s consistently twelve minutes and between thirteen and fifty seconds. Oh, and I’ve made a few tweaks to the test results.” He grins, though there’s a steel edge to it. “Just in case they dig a bit deeper - or try to use Jack’s DNA to trace him after we get him out.”
She nods. Of course that’s what he was doing. All of it. Even in this mostly-human body, he still has a Time Lord brain, and he can still multi-task like no-one else she’s ever known.
“Soon,” he promises again, and his fingers squeeze hers.
***
They’ve turned the lights off in his lab. Wonderful. So, just because the people who work here have gone to their comfortable homes and take-away meals and the TV and shagging their significant others, that means the lab-rats don’t need any creature comforts?
Though he should be grateful that they’ve at least bothered to leave him some water and what’s probably a reasonably nutritious, if not very appetising, meal. And getting around’s a lot easier now that he just has leg-irons and a long chain tying one wrist to the wall. Shame he hasn’t got more than the faint glimmer of light from the hallway to find the food they left him.
So much for the Doctor saying he’d be back, too. It’s been hours, and there’s no sign of him. Well, back to Plan B: work out a strategy for overpowering his jailors and getting past everyone else in this damned building. He’ll manage it eventually. It’s not like he doesn’t have all the time in the world, after all.
There’s an odd sound from the door suddenly. It’s not a key being turned, yet a second later there’s a creak as the door opens and light streams into the room. “Bloody hell, it’s dark in here! Jack, you there?”
Rose. They did come back. There’s an ache somewhere inside him. Probably because he didn’t eat enough of what his jailers brought.
“Yeah.” His voice almost cracks on the word. His throat’s dry as a bone. Really should have tried to find that water.
There’s a snap, and the overhead light is suddenly on. He blinks, trying to accustom his eyes. “Oh! They gave you food! And something to wear!”
To listen to the Doctor, anyone would think it was something to be amazed at. They gave him a goddamned lab-coat. And sandwiches.
“Doctor,” Rose says, and it’s clearly a prompt of some sort.
“Oh! Yes!” Now that he’s not seeing haloes everywhere, he can make out the Doctor rummaging in his jacket pockets. Items of clothing - and even a pair of shoes - appear, to be laid down on the lab table. “Hurry and dress, Jack.”
He raises his right hand and rattles the chain pointedly. The Doctor’s mouth twitches, and he produces a little gadget. It’s not the sonic screwdriver, unless he’s redesigned it completely, but it does the job; the metal cuff snaps. Two seconds later, the leg-irons are gone as well.
As he turns to reach for the clothes, out of the corner of his eye he notices Rose turn her back, and it strikes him that before, all those years ago before he was immortal and a murderer, he’d have given her a sexy smile and told her not to bother. Now... well, earlier he said he wanted her out of his sight. Part of him still does.
The trouble is, part of him just wants her to hug him and tell him, like she did all those years ago when she asked him about losing his memories, that everything will be all right.
He believed her then, but he was young and still had too many illusions, for all he thought himself so worldly-wise. Now he knows the truth: nothing will ever be all right again. Not for him, and not for anyone whose life he touches.
The clothes aren’t a great fit, and the overalls look even worse than the T-shirt and tracksuit bottoms he complained to Ianto about. Was he really so egotistical about his own appearance that he cared more about what he wore than the people he was with and the fact that the three of them had risked their lives several times over to rescue him?
Though if he’d stayed in that concrete prison, Ianto and Steven would still be alive. And surely someone - the Doctor, even? Where the hell was the Doctor, anyway? That’s one question he’s definitely going to demand an answer to before he parts company with the two of them - would have found a way to destroy the 456 and save the kids.
As he stands after putting on the shoes - a bit too large, but the laces will hold them in place - the Doctor looks relieved. “Good! Right! Time to get out of here.”
“Wait.” Rose, turned to face him again, reaches into a pocket. “This won’t survive any kind of close examination, but it’ll do at a distance.” It’s a security ID. She comes to stand in front of him while she attaches it, so close he can smell the subtle fragrance she wears - much more expensive than the cheap chain-store variety she wore in their TARDIS days, but didn’t Mickey tell him that her dad in that parallel universe was a multi-millionaire?
He deliberately looks away. This is the woman who thoughtlessly condemned him to a never-ending life sentence with no hope of reprieve. The Rose he lived and laughed with on the TARDIS - and loved - doesn’t exist. That Rose would never have wanted this for him.
As soon as she’s finished, he steps back, away from her. It strikes him that he hasn’t even acknowledged her presence in the room, other than answering when she first called to him. “All right, Doctor, lead the way.”
It’s a quick, though cautious exit. Rose goes in front, checking that the way’s clear and no guards or other staff are around. The Doctor’s got that strange-looking device of his in his hand, and every so often he zaps a camera with it - okay, so it works the same as the sonic screwdriver, anyway. Close to the exit, Rose gestures to them to halt, then comes back to confer with the Doctor. “Two guards at the desk.”
The Doctor grins. “No problem.” He spins on his heel and darts along another hallway. Seconds later, an alarm sounds, and he reappears, an even wider grin splitting his face. He doesn’t even stop running, grabbing Rose’s and Jack’s arms as he rushes past and tugging them with him, back into an alcove. Just in time, too, as one of the guards sprints past.
“Sabotaged the camera as well as setting off the alarm,” the Doctor explains, then ushers them forward again. As they emerge into the entrance-hall, which is lit dimly now, the Doctor strolls over to the security desk. “Evening! Hope we’ve not been causing you too much trouble by being here. Sorry to put you to yet more trouble, but I wonder if you could take a look at this for me and tell me the quickest way to get there.”
Clever bastard, engaging the guard in conversation. Making him look away from the scene in front of him.
“Go,” Rose murmurs in his ear. With barely a nod, he starts forward, doing his best not to shuffle in the over-large shoes. He looks straight ahead, acknowledging neither the Doctor nor the security guard. Ten steps - just under three seconds - and he’s outside; just another maintenance grunt leaving the building. Of course, in any facility with half-decent security precautions he’d have to swipe himself out, but the Doctor’s probably doing something to avoid the need for that.. Two seconds later, Rose is behind him, and moments later the Doctor’s there too.
He’s already looking around the car park and frowning, though. Where is it? Surely the Doctor wouldn’t have landed it all that far away, knowing they’d need a quick getaway. “Where’s the TARDIS?”
Rose and the Doctor exchange an odd look, and he just knows that he’s missing something. The uneasy feeling that’s been there in his gut since they first appeared in his room intensifies. The Doctor’s strange dress. Rose’s presence. The fact that they both seem different from what he remembers.
He’s got a strong suspicion that he’s already guessed the answer before the Doctor speaks.
“We don’t have a TARDIS, Jack. You’re not in your universe any more. When you fell into that black hole - or whatever happened that got you in there - you came out on the other side, into another universe.” The Doctor tugs on his ear. “Captain Jack Harkness, welcome to Pete’s World.”
***
Of course Jack didn’t realise. Why should he? Yes, he knew the other universe existed, but why should it occur to him that he’s ended up here? Or that the Doctor who’s just rescued him is the half-human duplicate of the Time Lord he knows.
“We need to get out of here.” Rose nudges him. “Hurry, before they notice Jack’s gone.”
“Right, right.” He glances sideways at Jack. “This way.” As the three of them hurry across the car park together, he adds, mouth turned down at the corners, “Oh, and in case you hadn’t realised, I’m not the Doctor you thought I was, either. Though I suppose you could say you know me well, all the same. After all, you did have the hand I grew from on your desk for - what, two years?”
“Yeah, worked that out,” Jack says flatly.
Oh, yes, there’s definitely something badly wrong with Captain Jack Harkness. In all the time he’s known the man, there’s no way he would ever have let that kind of opportunity go by without a suggestive comeback.
Once they’re in the car, with Jack in the back seat, Rose drives out of the car park and accelerates as soon as they’re on the road. “Have to go back to the hotel to pick up our stuff and so Jack can change, but we’d better check out and find somewhere else for tonight. Can’t risk them tracing us there.”
“We could just go straight to the airport,” he suggests. “Might be a flight we can take.”
“Not gonna be that easy.” Rose glances back over her shoulder very briefly. There’s tension in her eyes and in the set of her jaw, and the silence from the back seat’s almost deafening. “Jack doesn’t have a passport. Wish I’d thought of that before we left London. Damn!” She slams her palms against the steering-wheel. “Wouldn’t have taken Mark more than ten minutes to do it.”
Passports. All those idiotic pieces of paper humans need to live their lives. That he needs now, too. He’s got a passport, of course, as well as a driving licence, bank cards, credit cards, national insurance number cards, supermarket loyalty cards and even a card that gets him into Torchwood. Cards that tell people where you shop, how much money you have and who you work for, and even who you are, just in case you forget.
“I don’t know what you’ve got in mind, but you can just drop me off anywhere you like. I appreciate the rescue, but I can take it from here.” Jack’s tone suggests he’s not inviting argument. And, yet again, it raises a very, very big question. What on earth has happened to him? They were a team, the three of them. Even after Rose was gone, Jack was still his friend. And now he can’t wait to get away from them? He’s barely able to speak politely to them?
And he thought, too, that Jack didn’t blame Rose for what she did, giving him immortality. She didn’t know what she was doing, after all. She only wanted a dear friend not to be dead. Yes, she went too far, and she shouldn’t have played around with forces far too powerful for her to understand, but she did it out of nothing more than love.
“Sorry. Can’t do that.” He turns in his seat and flashes Jack a none-too-apologetic grin. “Parallel universe. Could be another you around about somewhere. Though most likely in the fifty-first century, I suppose, but if that you is a Time Agent too he could be anywhere. Can’t risk the two of you running into each other, I’m afraid. Sorry!”
Jack’s expression twists into something bitter and hard. That, too, is so incongruous, just as the overalls are in place of the man’s accustomed period military apparel. “So, what? I’m your prisoner now?”
“Jack!” Rose exclaims, sounding hurt and angry, though he notes that her attention’s still completely on the road as she breaks the speed limit by just the right amount to avoid police attention. “You’re not our prisoner! You’re our friend, damn it, and we want to help you.”
“Yep,” he agrees. “And to do that, we have to work out how you ended up in this universe - and find a way to send you back home.”
Jack’s silent long enough for Rose to pull off the main road and start navigating her way through the northern suburb of Ottawa where their hotel’s located. Then he says, so quietly he’s not even sure that the Captain intended to be heard, “What if I don’t want to go back?”
***
tbc in Chapter 4: Flight