Fic: The Cold Heaven 8/10 + Epilogue
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.
Chapter 1: Gateway l Chapter 2: Impossible and Immovable l Chapter 3: Truth and Daring l Chapter 4: Flight l Chapter 5: Opening the Floodgates l Chapter 6: Finding Routines l Chapter 7: Reconstruction
Chapter 8: Comfort
That Jack bloke’s throwing up in her downstairs bathroom. He’d better not have food poisoning.
Mind, the way he looked when he turned and ran out of the room didn’t seem like he had a bad stomach. It was more like... More like the way she felt when that vicar came up to her and said her Pete had been run over.
She steps into the bathroom, closing the door over - no-one else needs to see this - and pulls a towel off the rail. Once Jack raises his head, she holds it out to him. “Here.”
He turns sharply, the speed of his reaction making her glad she’s not meeting him in a dark alley. The unmasked pain in his eyes, before he seems to regain control over himself, makes her ache. “Thanks. But I’m-”
“You look like you could do with a nice cuppa.” He won’t want it, of course, but she’s not going to let him pretend everything’s okay.
“I’m fine.” The words are clipped, and he’s not looking at her; he’s swishing water around the sink to clean it. “I don’t want to be rude, Jackie, but I really need to go. I’d consider it a favour if you’d tell the Doctor and Rose I’ll see them at home later.”
“Sorry, can’t do that.” Hands on her hips - not that easy in this confined space - she holds his gaze. “I dunno what’s wrong with you, Jack Harkness, but I do know one thing. No-one looking like you did when you ran out of my sitting-room should be alone.”
He’s looking from her to the door, clearly calculating how quickly he can make his escape. She tries again, deliberately wheedling. “Come on. Just one cuppa. If you still want to go after that, I’ll call you a cab.”
Jack sighs, starting to look resigned. “Just one.”
She opens the door. “Come on.” The kitchen’s just at the end of this hallway, and the scent of almost-cooked beef casserole greets them as they walk in. Easiest thing to cook when you’ve got visitors, casserole. She still does it all herself; even if Pete can afford more staff than she could even imagine she just doesn’t like the loss of privacy. A cleaning service twice a week, that’s enough for her.
Jack paces as she puts the kettle on, measures out the leaves, gets the strainer and milk ready. “Sugar, love?”
“What? Uh - no. Just milk.”
In minutes, it’s ready and Jack joins her at the table. It’s actually a surprise that he’s still here; he could have walked out any time between leaving the bathroom and the tea being ready. Maybe part of him really wants to need someone. “So.” She pours his tea and pushes it across the table to him. “What sent you out of there like you’d just seen a ghost?”
He flinches, and his hands, resting on the table, start to shake. After a moment, he raises his hands and scrubs his face with them. “It’s no big deal. Just... something I didn’t want to remember.”
“Jack.” She waits until he’s looking at her again. “I might not be a time-traveller, or super-intelligent, or anythin’ else like you an’ the Doctor an’ my Rose, but I do know some things. I know you’ve lived a long time, an’ from a few things the Doctor’s mentioned I know you’ve seen some awful things. He told us about that Master person.” She shudders. “Someone like you, who’s been through all that, doesn’t throw up ‘cause of something that’s no big deal.”
His stare turns glassy, and his body’s rigid with tension; this time, she thinks he really is going to leave. But, instead, he wraps both hands around his mug and lifts it carefully, then takes a sip. Finally, he says, so softly she can barely hear him, “Your son... he reminded me of someone I lost.”
“Tony?” She leans forward as he nods. “Who did you lose, Jack?”
There’s another long silence, and she’s starting to feel uncertain about this; maybe she should just have got Rose or the Doctor after all. But then he exhales long and hard. “My grandson. Steven. He... he had blond hair, just like Tony. He was nine years old. Your boy... the way he was sitting, playing with his Lego, he looked just like Steven a year or so ago. I...” A shudder runs through him. “I had to get out of there.”
Oh god. Oh, how awful. She’s not going to ask how he died. That’s the worst thing she could do, ask him to relive it all over again. “Oh, Jack. I’m so sorry.” Sliding her chair over the granite-tiled floor, she moves closer to him and wraps her arm around his shoulders. “I wouldn’t have had this happen for the world.”
His shoulders shake, and she realises that he’s sobbing.
***
“Have you seen Jack?”
The Doctor glances up at Rose from his position on the floor, helping Tony to build a space station. “He was just behind us when we came in. Thought he was talking to Pete, act- Oh.” Pete’s tending the fire, and Jack’s nowhere in sight.
“It’s like he just disappeared. I was talking to Dad, an’ I thought he was with you, but when I looked around he wasn’t.”
He straightens. “I’ll go and look for him. Sorry, Tony. Be back in a jiff, all right?”
“We’ll both go.”
Pete nods, gesturing to them to do whatever they have to do. Methodically, they search the lower floor; he’s not in Pete’s study or the dining room, or the large reception room, and the bathroom’s empty. That only leaves the kitchen, but Jackie’s in there putting the final preparations to dinner, isn’t she? Why would Jack be there?
Rose’s hand in his, he heads that way all the same. The other alternative is Jack’s gone upstairs or outside, and that’ll be their next step.
But, as they approach the open kitchen door, he hears Jack’s voice. Rose’s hand clenches in his and he knows she hears it too - and what he’s saying. They stand in the open doorway just in time to see Jackie Tyler take Jack Harkness in her arms as he sobs his heart out for only the second time since he’s been here.
Jack notices them first. He raises his head from Jackie’s shoulder and his gaze alights on them. “Sorry, guys-” he begins, his voice strained.
Rose is already running across the room to him. “God, Jack, I’m so sorry! I never even thought to warn you about Tony. I hadn’t realised you’d never seen him. He really looks like Steven?”
Jackie’s moved away, and Jack stands, a little shakily. “Only superficially, I guess. Didn’t really stay long enough to get a proper look.”
Rose rubs her hand up and down Jack’s arm. “Wish I’d noticed you were gone sooner.”
“I’m fine.” Jack takes a deep breath, and the Doctor, coming closer, sees the bleakness start to disappear again. It still doesn’t stop him laying a hand on Jack’s shoulder.
“Yeah, next time just shout at us or something, mate. Let us know something’s wrong. We just spent the last ten minutes looking for you.”
“Sorry.” Jack gives him a half-smile. “I was in good hands. Jackie made me tea.”
He throws his - well, she is, sort of, really, isn’t she? - mother-in-law a grateful look. She acknowledges it with a wry shrug. “Go on, you lot. Get out of here an’ let me get dinner finished, assumin’ any of you wants to eat today.”
Jack sees past the bluster - good lad - and hugs Jackie. “Thank you for not letting me leave.”
Oh, Rassilon, no. That would have been disastrous. Jack sitting at home - or walking aimlessly around London - brooding about Steven; he’s done enough of that, hasn’t he?
“Oh, go on with you.” But Jackie hugs him back.
Jack takes a deep breath, then turns to Rose. “Come on, then, introduce me to your little brother. Does he play football?”
***
It’s after eleven when they get home. She and the Doctor would have been happy to leave hours ago, but it was as if Jack felt he had something to prove. He played with Tony on and off for hours, and then joined in conversation with her mum and Pete for the rest of the evening as if nothing had happened.
Now, he’s silent, coiled tightly as a spring.
She lays her hand on his arm. There’s no give; every muscle’s rigid. “Jack-”
“I’m bushed. Going to bed, guys. See you in the morning.” There’s strain in his voice as well. She’d hug him, except he probably wouldn’t even accept that right now - and it’s clear that a hug wouldn’t be even close to what he needs. She looks beyond him to the Doctor, pleading for something, though she’s not even sure what.
“Jack.” The Doctor steps into his path. “You can’t-”
Jack’s shoulders slump, as if the effort of standing straight is suddenly too much. “Please. I know you’re only doing it because you care, but the last thing I want to do is talk.”
“Wasn’t going to suggest it.” The Doctor’s tone is light. “Actually, I was going to agree with you. Bed sounds like an excellent idea.” He glances past Jack, catching her eye, asking a silent question. She’s got no idea what he has in mind, but she nods anyway. Whatever it is, she knows she’ll be okay with it.
The Doctor loops a long arm around Jack’s shoulders. “Come on up. Rose-” He glances back over his shoulder. “Get the lights? That’s another thing I miss about the TARDIS,” he continues conversationally to Jack, steering their friend up the stairs.
“Would have thought you could programme the sonic to do that,” Jack comments.
“Yeah, I could. Just got to get around to it. The TARDIS, though - just had to think at her and she’d turn them off. Now, if I can only replicate the telepathic circuit in the new TARDIS...”
“How long do you think it’ll take to build?” Jack asks, distracted - as she’s sure the Doctor intended.
“Grow, Jack. You don’t build TARDISes. She’s growing nicely already - you saw, didn’t you? I just build the machinery around the console. She does the rest. As for how long, well... if we’re very, very lucky, maybe another four years. Then we can all go travelling again - as long as Rose’s mum doesn’t find a way to stop us,” he adds with a rueful grin.
“Oi, stop insulting my mum,” she retorts, more out of habit than anything else.
The Doctor just grins and carries on steering Jack across the landing. And that’s when she realises what he’s up to. He’s heading to their bedroom, not Jack’s.
Yes. That’s exactly what Jack needs, and it’s right.
On the threshold, Jack hesitates. “Doc-”
“Hush. You need company, and since I’m tired tonight you’ll just have to join us here instead of down in the den.” The Doctor gives Jack a slight shove, and then all three of them are in the bedroom. “Seem to remember we’ve both seen you naked already, so it’s hardly gonna be a problem if you still insist on sleeping in the nude.”
She’s moved around the two of them, so she gets the full benefit of the instant shock on Jack’s face, before he manages a shaky smile. “So that mean I’m gonna get to see you two naked too?”
***
In the end, none of them is naked. Rose disappears into the en-suite with a nightie, and he and Jack strip down to underwear before Jack disappears to get his toothbrush; the Doctor takes advantage of the couple of minutes to take care of his own night-time needs. “Thanks,” Jack says briefly when he returns. “I really don’t want to talk, but I didn’t want to be alone.”
Nightmares again, of course, like the other night. Not that he needed Jack to explain. The other man might have been shouting his dread of that at full volume.
“Should’ve said,” he answers, gaze holding Jack’s. “What if I hadn’t suggested this?”
“Wasn’t aware it was a suggestion,” Jack quips, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “But, seriously, what would I have said? Asked you two to sit up half the night playing Scrabble?”
Instead of answering immediately, he closes the gap between them and wraps his arms around his friend. It feels different this time, naked skin against naked skin, and it’s really quite... nice. “Next time, just say. We’ll work something out.”
Over Jack’s shoulder, he sees Rose emerging from the bathroom, giving him a thumbs-up. Releasing Jack, he takes him by the shoulders, turning him around. “Now, go on. No goodnight kiss unless you brush your teeth!”
When Jack returns, Rose takes the hint, going to him and tugging his head down to hers for an affectionate kiss. Jack’s fingers slide into her hair as the kiss lingers, and as he watches it occurs to him that perhaps he should be experiencing at least some jealousy. In the past, he certainly would have. Now, though, all he’s feeling is fondness.
As Rose climbs into bed, he goes to Jack and takes his friend’s face between his palms. There’s startlement in Jack’s eyes for a moment before he leans in, eyes closed, welcoming the kiss.
It’s the easiest thing in the world to slide his fingertips up to Jack’s temples and concentrate for a moment. The Captain, he knows, really doesn’t understand just how much of the Time Lord is still in him, and it’s a matter of a second or two to wipe away any possibility of a disturbed sleep for his friend.
It’s several seconds after he’s moved his fingers away when he realises he’s still kissing Jack, and slowly he pulls back. Jack’s looking at him, his eyes dazed and a little bit aroused. The Doctor laughs ruefully. “Sorry. Got a bit carried away.”
“No complaints here,” Jack replies instantly.
“Nor here,” Rose calls from the bed.
Shaking his head, he waves Jack towards the bed, then slides in behind him. Once they’re comfortably spooned - and it really is extraordinarily comfortable, he has to acknowledge - he reaches behind him and snaps off the light. “Sleep well.”
***
He wakes as autumn sunlight filters through the curtains, feeling more rested than he has in years. No nightmares; just calm, restful sleep. Hair tickles his nose, and a warm body’s lying sprawled over his chest. Rose. His arms are around her, and their legs are tangled.
The Doctor. Where is he? Not in the bed; the space behind him is empty. The guy’s not going to be too happy that he’s made himself so cosy with Rose. Carefully, he starts to ease himself away from her, laying her gently down on the pillow.
“I’d say stay where you are, but duty calls,” the Doctor’s muted voice says from behind him, sounding not at all upset. “Every day without fail, Monday to Friday, nine to five - or later. Dunno how you humans don’t get bored rigid from the monotony of it.”
“Some of us enjoy it,” he comments, sliding carefully out of the bed. The Doctor’s already dressed, the damp, rumpled hair evidence of his shower. “Look, I - thanks for last night. I was expecting... well, it doesn’t matter. But I haven’t slept this well in ages.”
“Welcome,” the Doctor says with a smile. “Expecting nightmares? Wouldn’t surprise me. I have a confession to make, though.” His expression turns rueful. “That good night’s sleep? That was me. Though being with friends will have helped, too.”
“You?” He frowns. “I don’t understand.”
The Doctor shrugs faintly, and he’s frowning, as if he’s worried that Jack won’t be happy about this. “I just gave a couple of instructions to your neural pathways. No nightmares, peaceful sleep, that sort of thing. Should’ve said - I mean, I know you don’t like having your head messed with - but if I’d told you I did it then it mightn’t have worked. It’s like telling someone you’re going to use sleight of hand - then they’re watching out for the trick.”
That makes sense, he supposes. And he can hardly complain about what the Doctor did. Apart from the fact that it worked, it’s clear that the guy did it because he cares.
“Thank you.” He walks across the room to the Doctor, then hesitates. “Is it okay if I do this?” Without waiting for an answer - the Doctor’ll stop him if it’s not - he leans in and presses a soft kiss on his friend’s lips.
The Doctor ruffles his hair as he pulls back. “Oh, I suppose so. It’s not as if I asked permission, after all.” He winks at Jack, then skirts deftly around him and goes to the bed. Shaking Rose, he calls, “Come on, sleeping beauty. Time to get up.”
Shaking his head and smiling, Jack leaves them to it. It is time, after all - time for normality to resume.
It really doesn’t feel very normal, though, even when he’s in the hangar testing the latest modifications to the helicopter. Today, he’s finding it surprisingly difficult to keep his mind on the job and off the images of Rose’s inviting curves pressed against him, or the Doctor’s lean, angular body moulded to his in their bed. Or of the two of them, one after the other, kissing him, hands in his hair, bodies close to his. The Doctor hugging him, or ruffling his hair this morning.
Both the Doctor and Rose told him that this Doctor, half-human and part-Donna as he is, is not the same man as the Time Lord. He’s finally beginning to understand that for himself.
Close to noon, his phone buzzes, signalling a text. It’s from the Doctor. Meet us for lunch? Harrison’s, 12:15.
His first instinct is to say he can’t, but he makes himself consider why he wants to refuse. There’s no good reason other than the need he’s had ever since arriving here to keep himself out of their way - and they’ve both made it clear that they don’t want him to do that. And, damnit, he doesn’t want to do that any more either. Before he can change his mind again, he sends back a quick reply. “I’ll be there.”
They’re there before him. Rose stands and hugs him as he reaches their table. The Doctor’s smile is warm. And lunch is nice. Not just the food, though he approves of their choice of café, but the conversation. It’s mostly work-focused, but he realises, as he joins in as enthusiastically as the other two, how much he’s missed this kind of thing: discussing challenges and possible solutions, sharing accomplishments.
The Doctor has a couple of good suggestions for the acceleration limits he and the team have run up against, and he helps Rose to brainstorm strategies for dealing with a member of her team who’s started to become a liability. To his surprise, the Doctor largely stays out of that conversation, and they both treat his opinion as valuable.
“What would I know about leading a team?” the Doctor asks, incredulous, when he asks if the half-Time Lord has anything to add. "I'm best in a crisis situation. Once that's done, I'm useless. Never had to deal with consequences before now. My sort of advice wouldn't help, not with this. You’re the one who’s been in charge, Jack. ‘Course I’m deferring to you.”
He’s not going to claim he was the best manager - far from it. If he started to catalogue all the mistakes he made after he took over Torchwood Three at midnight on New Year’s Eve 1999, they’d still be sitting here well into the next decade.
The conversation shifts to the graffiti the Doctor’s now investigating. He can’t translate the language - and Jack knows only too well the frustration the Doctor’s feeling, knowing that in the past he wouldn’t even have had to think twice about understanding an alien language. He’s trying to analyse the paint, but that’s taking longer than he’d like and it’s frustrating him too.
“Dunno if I can be of any help, but once we’ve got this acceleration problem sorted I can come over to your lab and take a look,” Jack promises.
The Doctor gives him a quick smile. “I’d like that.” Draining his coffee, he adds, “Actually, if you have time this evening, I’d like it if you could help me with the TARDIS again. Making do again - just can’t seem to find decent temporal flux displacers in the twenty-first century. You always were good at improvising, I remember.”
He grins, getting to his feet and grabbing his jacket. “Yeah, you’d think it wouldn’t be too difficult to find that kind of parts, right? Sure, I’ll be happy to help.”
“And what do I get to do? Bring you tea?” Rose enquires, eyebrows arched.
“Well, that would be nice...” the Doctor answers, then immediately ducks.
It really is just like old times. And it feels good.
***
The Doctor finally, at a few minutes past midnight, takes her hint that it might be time to stop working for the night. The jumble of metal and wires in the middle of the den is actually starting to look like machinery at last, rather than the contents of a scrap-metal merchant’s yard. But he’s already told the two of them that it’ll be a few years yet before the TARDIS is going to be ready to fly, so it’s not as if the components need to be ready any time soon.
Despite the suggestion that she’d just be the provider of tea, she’s been busy too this evening, passing bits and pieces, holding other bits while the Doctor or Jack did things to them and generally joining in the conversation. She’s learning a lot about mechanics and electronics lately and, though she’d never want to make a career out of it, she thinks Mickey’d be impressed by how much she knows these days.
Jack stretches as he stands, his T-shirt riding up to reveal the well-defined abs she’s had several opportunities to see lately. He catches her staring and gives her an exaggerated wink.
As they turn off lights and head for the stairs, she asks Jack - partly to distract herself, and partly because it’s something she’s often wondered about, and worried over - “Do you know what happened to Mickey? After he stayed behind, I mean.”
He turns to her, and she gets the full benefit of those gorgeous blue eyes again. “I offered him a job - could have used him at Torchwood. I’d just lost two of my people, after all.” He glances away briefly, sadness crossing his face. She slides her hand into his, and he grips it warmly. “Anyway, he said he couldn’t imagine working for me as a boss. So I got Ianto to sort out his ID and the missing person’s report so he could get his life back, and Martha and I recommended him to UNIT. Last I heard, he was in officer training.”
So he’s all right. That’s a weight off her mind, even if she does still miss him. She’d have asked Jack before, but didn’t want to invite more reminders of the other universe. He does seem to be gradually getting better, though.
At the top of the stairs, she turns automatically towards their room - hers and the Doctor’s - without thinking, Jack’s hand still in hers. He halts, tugging lightly on her hand. “Guess this is where I say goodnight.”
Over his shoulder, she catches the Doctor’s eye. His amused smile tells her it’s up to her. “Don’t go,” she urges Jack. “Come with us. It was nice last night, wasn’t it?”
His palm caresses her cheek. “It was. It’s sweet of you to offer, but I can’t.”
“Why not?” The Doctor’s come up on Jack’s other side and laid a hand on his shoulder. “It’s fine with us.”
Jack looks disbelieving and frustrated. “Of course I can’t! You know I’d be in the way.”
The Doctor says, puzzled, “In the way of what?”
Jack rolls his eyes. “Do I have to spell it out? Look, even if I know I’d enjoy watching, I can’t imagine you guys would want to make love with me there.”
Heat floods her instantly - and it’s not embarrassment. Images of Jack there, watching them... of Jack sliding his big hands over her body, and of her touching him in return. Jack touching the Doctor...
The Doctor opens and closes his mouth a couple of times - but he hasn’t released Jack. Then, as if he’d been completely sure of himself all along, he says, “Ah, too late for that tonight anyway! As for other times... well, who knows?” He winks cheekily at Rose, and her heart jumps at the hint that his thoughts might be heading in the same direction as hers. “Anyway. Let's away, to part the glories of this happy day, and so on and so on - Jack, did you know Shakespeare died in infancy in this universe? But his plays still exist. Supposedly written by that Marlowe chap...”
Arm looped around Jack’s shoulders, the Doctor steers him into their bedroom, and ten minutes and several goodnight kisses later they’re spooned up again, this time with her in the middle, and there’s nowhere else she’d rather be.
***
He’s humming while he works today.
Though he’s still baffled as to why they want him there, there’s no denying that he sleeps better sharing the Doctor and Rose’s bed - and the Doctor swears he didn’t do anything last night to make him sleep. The kisses, both goodnight and good morning, don’t hurt either. Nor does the fact that he definitely caught the Doctor giving his body a good once-over as he undressed last night.
Or that, this morning as he lay drifting between sleep and wakefulness, a warm hand caressed his chest.
It won’t last. Once they realise that he really doesn’t need them to watch over him that much, he’ll be back to goodnight hugs on the landing and sleeping in his own room. That’s okay, though. Just as it should be, and if he needs a bit of additional company every now and again it won’t be that difficult to find.
The important thing is that he’s found somewhere he can call home, at least for a while, and there’s hope of a solution to his curse of immortality, if the Doctor’s right about his other-universe counterpart’s willingness to help. It’s a lot better than he imagined mere months ago that his future would be.
His phone rings. It’s around half-past eleven; got to be the Doctor or Rose suggesting they meet for lunch again. When he sees Rose’s name on the screen, his guess is confirmed.
He’s smiling as he takes the call. “Hey, sweetheart.”
“Jack!” The fear in Rose’s voice has him instantly on alert. “It’s the Doctor! He’s-” She breaks off, and he can hear her panicky intake of breath.
He fights off his own sudden rush of fear, forcing himself to stay calm for her sake. “Rose. Take a deep breath and tell me. What happened?”
“The graffiti,” she says, noticeably less panicky. “The Doctor went out to examine a new patch today. He didn’t come back and he wasn’t answering his phone. I just took a team to investigate, an’ there’s a new message. In English this time.” She takes another audibly shaky breath. “It says...”
“What?” A cold hand’s clamped around his heart, and it’s squeezing. “What does it say, Rose?”
“He is the first. One hundred more each hour until your president surrenders to us.”
***
tbc in chapter 9
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.
Chapter 1: Gateway l Chapter 2: Impossible and Immovable l Chapter 3: Truth and Daring l Chapter 4: Flight l Chapter 5: Opening the Floodgates l Chapter 6: Finding Routines l Chapter 7: Reconstruction
Chapter 8: Comfort
That Jack bloke’s throwing up in her downstairs bathroom. He’d better not have food poisoning.
Mind, the way he looked when he turned and ran out of the room didn’t seem like he had a bad stomach. It was more like... More like the way she felt when that vicar came up to her and said her Pete had been run over.
She steps into the bathroom, closing the door over - no-one else needs to see this - and pulls a towel off the rail. Once Jack raises his head, she holds it out to him. “Here.”
He turns sharply, the speed of his reaction making her glad she’s not meeting him in a dark alley. The unmasked pain in his eyes, before he seems to regain control over himself, makes her ache. “Thanks. But I’m-”
“You look like you could do with a nice cuppa.” He won’t want it, of course, but she’s not going to let him pretend everything’s okay.
“I’m fine.” The words are clipped, and he’s not looking at her; he’s swishing water around the sink to clean it. “I don’t want to be rude, Jackie, but I really need to go. I’d consider it a favour if you’d tell the Doctor and Rose I’ll see them at home later.”
“Sorry, can’t do that.” Hands on her hips - not that easy in this confined space - she holds his gaze. “I dunno what’s wrong with you, Jack Harkness, but I do know one thing. No-one looking like you did when you ran out of my sitting-room should be alone.”
He’s looking from her to the door, clearly calculating how quickly he can make his escape. She tries again, deliberately wheedling. “Come on. Just one cuppa. If you still want to go after that, I’ll call you a cab.”
Jack sighs, starting to look resigned. “Just one.”
She opens the door. “Come on.” The kitchen’s just at the end of this hallway, and the scent of almost-cooked beef casserole greets them as they walk in. Easiest thing to cook when you’ve got visitors, casserole. She still does it all herself; even if Pete can afford more staff than she could even imagine she just doesn’t like the loss of privacy. A cleaning service twice a week, that’s enough for her.
Jack paces as she puts the kettle on, measures out the leaves, gets the strainer and milk ready. “Sugar, love?”
“What? Uh - no. Just milk.”
In minutes, it’s ready and Jack joins her at the table. It’s actually a surprise that he’s still here; he could have walked out any time between leaving the bathroom and the tea being ready. Maybe part of him really wants to need someone. “So.” She pours his tea and pushes it across the table to him. “What sent you out of there like you’d just seen a ghost?”
He flinches, and his hands, resting on the table, start to shake. After a moment, he raises his hands and scrubs his face with them. “It’s no big deal. Just... something I didn’t want to remember.”
“Jack.” She waits until he’s looking at her again. “I might not be a time-traveller, or super-intelligent, or anythin’ else like you an’ the Doctor an’ my Rose, but I do know some things. I know you’ve lived a long time, an’ from a few things the Doctor’s mentioned I know you’ve seen some awful things. He told us about that Master person.” She shudders. “Someone like you, who’s been through all that, doesn’t throw up ‘cause of something that’s no big deal.”
His stare turns glassy, and his body’s rigid with tension; this time, she thinks he really is going to leave. But, instead, he wraps both hands around his mug and lifts it carefully, then takes a sip. Finally, he says, so softly she can barely hear him, “Your son... he reminded me of someone I lost.”
“Tony?” She leans forward as he nods. “Who did you lose, Jack?”
There’s another long silence, and she’s starting to feel uncertain about this; maybe she should just have got Rose or the Doctor after all. But then he exhales long and hard. “My grandson. Steven. He... he had blond hair, just like Tony. He was nine years old. Your boy... the way he was sitting, playing with his Lego, he looked just like Steven a year or so ago. I...” A shudder runs through him. “I had to get out of there.”
Oh god. Oh, how awful. She’s not going to ask how he died. That’s the worst thing she could do, ask him to relive it all over again. “Oh, Jack. I’m so sorry.” Sliding her chair over the granite-tiled floor, she moves closer to him and wraps her arm around his shoulders. “I wouldn’t have had this happen for the world.”
His shoulders shake, and she realises that he’s sobbing.
***
“Have you seen Jack?”
The Doctor glances up at Rose from his position on the floor, helping Tony to build a space station. “He was just behind us when we came in. Thought he was talking to Pete, act- Oh.” Pete’s tending the fire, and Jack’s nowhere in sight.
“It’s like he just disappeared. I was talking to Dad, an’ I thought he was with you, but when I looked around he wasn’t.”
He straightens. “I’ll go and look for him. Sorry, Tony. Be back in a jiff, all right?”
“We’ll both go.”
Pete nods, gesturing to them to do whatever they have to do. Methodically, they search the lower floor; he’s not in Pete’s study or the dining room, or the large reception room, and the bathroom’s empty. That only leaves the kitchen, but Jackie’s in there putting the final preparations to dinner, isn’t she? Why would Jack be there?
Rose’s hand in his, he heads that way all the same. The other alternative is Jack’s gone upstairs or outside, and that’ll be their next step.
But, as they approach the open kitchen door, he hears Jack’s voice. Rose’s hand clenches in his and he knows she hears it too - and what he’s saying. They stand in the open doorway just in time to see Jackie Tyler take Jack Harkness in her arms as he sobs his heart out for only the second time since he’s been here.
Jack notices them first. He raises his head from Jackie’s shoulder and his gaze alights on them. “Sorry, guys-” he begins, his voice strained.
Rose is already running across the room to him. “God, Jack, I’m so sorry! I never even thought to warn you about Tony. I hadn’t realised you’d never seen him. He really looks like Steven?”
Jackie’s moved away, and Jack stands, a little shakily. “Only superficially, I guess. Didn’t really stay long enough to get a proper look.”
Rose rubs her hand up and down Jack’s arm. “Wish I’d noticed you were gone sooner.”
“I’m fine.” Jack takes a deep breath, and the Doctor, coming closer, sees the bleakness start to disappear again. It still doesn’t stop him laying a hand on Jack’s shoulder.
“Yeah, next time just shout at us or something, mate. Let us know something’s wrong. We just spent the last ten minutes looking for you.”
“Sorry.” Jack gives him a half-smile. “I was in good hands. Jackie made me tea.”
He throws his - well, she is, sort of, really, isn’t she? - mother-in-law a grateful look. She acknowledges it with a wry shrug. “Go on, you lot. Get out of here an’ let me get dinner finished, assumin’ any of you wants to eat today.”
Jack sees past the bluster - good lad - and hugs Jackie. “Thank you for not letting me leave.”
Oh, Rassilon, no. That would have been disastrous. Jack sitting at home - or walking aimlessly around London - brooding about Steven; he’s done enough of that, hasn’t he?
“Oh, go on with you.” But Jackie hugs him back.
Jack takes a deep breath, then turns to Rose. “Come on, then, introduce me to your little brother. Does he play football?”
***
It’s after eleven when they get home. She and the Doctor would have been happy to leave hours ago, but it was as if Jack felt he had something to prove. He played with Tony on and off for hours, and then joined in conversation with her mum and Pete for the rest of the evening as if nothing had happened.
Now, he’s silent, coiled tightly as a spring.
She lays her hand on his arm. There’s no give; every muscle’s rigid. “Jack-”
“I’m bushed. Going to bed, guys. See you in the morning.” There’s strain in his voice as well. She’d hug him, except he probably wouldn’t even accept that right now - and it’s clear that a hug wouldn’t be even close to what he needs. She looks beyond him to the Doctor, pleading for something, though she’s not even sure what.
“Jack.” The Doctor steps into his path. “You can’t-”
Jack’s shoulders slump, as if the effort of standing straight is suddenly too much. “Please. I know you’re only doing it because you care, but the last thing I want to do is talk.”
“Wasn’t going to suggest it.” The Doctor’s tone is light. “Actually, I was going to agree with you. Bed sounds like an excellent idea.” He glances past Jack, catching her eye, asking a silent question. She’s got no idea what he has in mind, but she nods anyway. Whatever it is, she knows she’ll be okay with it.
The Doctor loops a long arm around Jack’s shoulders. “Come on up. Rose-” He glances back over his shoulder. “Get the lights? That’s another thing I miss about the TARDIS,” he continues conversationally to Jack, steering their friend up the stairs.
“Would have thought you could programme the sonic to do that,” Jack comments.
“Yeah, I could. Just got to get around to it. The TARDIS, though - just had to think at her and she’d turn them off. Now, if I can only replicate the telepathic circuit in the new TARDIS...”
“How long do you think it’ll take to build?” Jack asks, distracted - as she’s sure the Doctor intended.
“Grow, Jack. You don’t build TARDISes. She’s growing nicely already - you saw, didn’t you? I just build the machinery around the console. She does the rest. As for how long, well... if we’re very, very lucky, maybe another four years. Then we can all go travelling again - as long as Rose’s mum doesn’t find a way to stop us,” he adds with a rueful grin.
“Oi, stop insulting my mum,” she retorts, more out of habit than anything else.
The Doctor just grins and carries on steering Jack across the landing. And that’s when she realises what he’s up to. He’s heading to their bedroom, not Jack’s.
Yes. That’s exactly what Jack needs, and it’s right.
On the threshold, Jack hesitates. “Doc-”
“Hush. You need company, and since I’m tired tonight you’ll just have to join us here instead of down in the den.” The Doctor gives Jack a slight shove, and then all three of them are in the bedroom. “Seem to remember we’ve both seen you naked already, so it’s hardly gonna be a problem if you still insist on sleeping in the nude.”
She’s moved around the two of them, so she gets the full benefit of the instant shock on Jack’s face, before he manages a shaky smile. “So that mean I’m gonna get to see you two naked too?”
***
In the end, none of them is naked. Rose disappears into the en-suite with a nightie, and he and Jack strip down to underwear before Jack disappears to get his toothbrush; the Doctor takes advantage of the couple of minutes to take care of his own night-time needs. “Thanks,” Jack says briefly when he returns. “I really don’t want to talk, but I didn’t want to be alone.”
Nightmares again, of course, like the other night. Not that he needed Jack to explain. The other man might have been shouting his dread of that at full volume.
“Should’ve said,” he answers, gaze holding Jack’s. “What if I hadn’t suggested this?”
“Wasn’t aware it was a suggestion,” Jack quips, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “But, seriously, what would I have said? Asked you two to sit up half the night playing Scrabble?”
Instead of answering immediately, he closes the gap between them and wraps his arms around his friend. It feels different this time, naked skin against naked skin, and it’s really quite... nice. “Next time, just say. We’ll work something out.”
Over Jack’s shoulder, he sees Rose emerging from the bathroom, giving him a thumbs-up. Releasing Jack, he takes him by the shoulders, turning him around. “Now, go on. No goodnight kiss unless you brush your teeth!”
When Jack returns, Rose takes the hint, going to him and tugging his head down to hers for an affectionate kiss. Jack’s fingers slide into her hair as the kiss lingers, and as he watches it occurs to him that perhaps he should be experiencing at least some jealousy. In the past, he certainly would have. Now, though, all he’s feeling is fondness.
As Rose climbs into bed, he goes to Jack and takes his friend’s face between his palms. There’s startlement in Jack’s eyes for a moment before he leans in, eyes closed, welcoming the kiss.
It’s the easiest thing in the world to slide his fingertips up to Jack’s temples and concentrate for a moment. The Captain, he knows, really doesn’t understand just how much of the Time Lord is still in him, and it’s a matter of a second or two to wipe away any possibility of a disturbed sleep for his friend.
It’s several seconds after he’s moved his fingers away when he realises he’s still kissing Jack, and slowly he pulls back. Jack’s looking at him, his eyes dazed and a little bit aroused. The Doctor laughs ruefully. “Sorry. Got a bit carried away.”
“No complaints here,” Jack replies instantly.
“Nor here,” Rose calls from the bed.
Shaking his head, he waves Jack towards the bed, then slides in behind him. Once they’re comfortably spooned - and it really is extraordinarily comfortable, he has to acknowledge - he reaches behind him and snaps off the light. “Sleep well.”
***
He wakes as autumn sunlight filters through the curtains, feeling more rested than he has in years. No nightmares; just calm, restful sleep. Hair tickles his nose, and a warm body’s lying sprawled over his chest. Rose. His arms are around her, and their legs are tangled.
The Doctor. Where is he? Not in the bed; the space behind him is empty. The guy’s not going to be too happy that he’s made himself so cosy with Rose. Carefully, he starts to ease himself away from her, laying her gently down on the pillow.
“I’d say stay where you are, but duty calls,” the Doctor’s muted voice says from behind him, sounding not at all upset. “Every day without fail, Monday to Friday, nine to five - or later. Dunno how you humans don’t get bored rigid from the monotony of it.”
“Some of us enjoy it,” he comments, sliding carefully out of the bed. The Doctor’s already dressed, the damp, rumpled hair evidence of his shower. “Look, I - thanks for last night. I was expecting... well, it doesn’t matter. But I haven’t slept this well in ages.”
“Welcome,” the Doctor says with a smile. “Expecting nightmares? Wouldn’t surprise me. I have a confession to make, though.” His expression turns rueful. “That good night’s sleep? That was me. Though being with friends will have helped, too.”
“You?” He frowns. “I don’t understand.”
The Doctor shrugs faintly, and he’s frowning, as if he’s worried that Jack won’t be happy about this. “I just gave a couple of instructions to your neural pathways. No nightmares, peaceful sleep, that sort of thing. Should’ve said - I mean, I know you don’t like having your head messed with - but if I’d told you I did it then it mightn’t have worked. It’s like telling someone you’re going to use sleight of hand - then they’re watching out for the trick.”
That makes sense, he supposes. And he can hardly complain about what the Doctor did. Apart from the fact that it worked, it’s clear that the guy did it because he cares.
“Thank you.” He walks across the room to the Doctor, then hesitates. “Is it okay if I do this?” Without waiting for an answer - the Doctor’ll stop him if it’s not - he leans in and presses a soft kiss on his friend’s lips.
The Doctor ruffles his hair as he pulls back. “Oh, I suppose so. It’s not as if I asked permission, after all.” He winks at Jack, then skirts deftly around him and goes to the bed. Shaking Rose, he calls, “Come on, sleeping beauty. Time to get up.”
Shaking his head and smiling, Jack leaves them to it. It is time, after all - time for normality to resume.
It really doesn’t feel very normal, though, even when he’s in the hangar testing the latest modifications to the helicopter. Today, he’s finding it surprisingly difficult to keep his mind on the job and off the images of Rose’s inviting curves pressed against him, or the Doctor’s lean, angular body moulded to his in their bed. Or of the two of them, one after the other, kissing him, hands in his hair, bodies close to his. The Doctor hugging him, or ruffling his hair this morning.
Both the Doctor and Rose told him that this Doctor, half-human and part-Donna as he is, is not the same man as the Time Lord. He’s finally beginning to understand that for himself.
Close to noon, his phone buzzes, signalling a text. It’s from the Doctor. Meet us for lunch? Harrison’s, 12:15.
His first instinct is to say he can’t, but he makes himself consider why he wants to refuse. There’s no good reason other than the need he’s had ever since arriving here to keep himself out of their way - and they’ve both made it clear that they don’t want him to do that. And, damnit, he doesn’t want to do that any more either. Before he can change his mind again, he sends back a quick reply. “I’ll be there.”
They’re there before him. Rose stands and hugs him as he reaches their table. The Doctor’s smile is warm. And lunch is nice. Not just the food, though he approves of their choice of café, but the conversation. It’s mostly work-focused, but he realises, as he joins in as enthusiastically as the other two, how much he’s missed this kind of thing: discussing challenges and possible solutions, sharing accomplishments.
The Doctor has a couple of good suggestions for the acceleration limits he and the team have run up against, and he helps Rose to brainstorm strategies for dealing with a member of her team who’s started to become a liability. To his surprise, the Doctor largely stays out of that conversation, and they both treat his opinion as valuable.
“What would I know about leading a team?” the Doctor asks, incredulous, when he asks if the half-Time Lord has anything to add. "I'm best in a crisis situation. Once that's done, I'm useless. Never had to deal with consequences before now. My sort of advice wouldn't help, not with this. You’re the one who’s been in charge, Jack. ‘Course I’m deferring to you.”
He’s not going to claim he was the best manager - far from it. If he started to catalogue all the mistakes he made after he took over Torchwood Three at midnight on New Year’s Eve 1999, they’d still be sitting here well into the next decade.
The conversation shifts to the graffiti the Doctor’s now investigating. He can’t translate the language - and Jack knows only too well the frustration the Doctor’s feeling, knowing that in the past he wouldn’t even have had to think twice about understanding an alien language. He’s trying to analyse the paint, but that’s taking longer than he’d like and it’s frustrating him too.
“Dunno if I can be of any help, but once we’ve got this acceleration problem sorted I can come over to your lab and take a look,” Jack promises.
The Doctor gives him a quick smile. “I’d like that.” Draining his coffee, he adds, “Actually, if you have time this evening, I’d like it if you could help me with the TARDIS again. Making do again - just can’t seem to find decent temporal flux displacers in the twenty-first century. You always were good at improvising, I remember.”
He grins, getting to his feet and grabbing his jacket. “Yeah, you’d think it wouldn’t be too difficult to find that kind of parts, right? Sure, I’ll be happy to help.”
“And what do I get to do? Bring you tea?” Rose enquires, eyebrows arched.
“Well, that would be nice...” the Doctor answers, then immediately ducks.
It really is just like old times. And it feels good.
***
The Doctor finally, at a few minutes past midnight, takes her hint that it might be time to stop working for the night. The jumble of metal and wires in the middle of the den is actually starting to look like machinery at last, rather than the contents of a scrap-metal merchant’s yard. But he’s already told the two of them that it’ll be a few years yet before the TARDIS is going to be ready to fly, so it’s not as if the components need to be ready any time soon.
Despite the suggestion that she’d just be the provider of tea, she’s been busy too this evening, passing bits and pieces, holding other bits while the Doctor or Jack did things to them and generally joining in the conversation. She’s learning a lot about mechanics and electronics lately and, though she’d never want to make a career out of it, she thinks Mickey’d be impressed by how much she knows these days.
Jack stretches as he stands, his T-shirt riding up to reveal the well-defined abs she’s had several opportunities to see lately. He catches her staring and gives her an exaggerated wink.
As they turn off lights and head for the stairs, she asks Jack - partly to distract herself, and partly because it’s something she’s often wondered about, and worried over - “Do you know what happened to Mickey? After he stayed behind, I mean.”
He turns to her, and she gets the full benefit of those gorgeous blue eyes again. “I offered him a job - could have used him at Torchwood. I’d just lost two of my people, after all.” He glances away briefly, sadness crossing his face. She slides her hand into his, and he grips it warmly. “Anyway, he said he couldn’t imagine working for me as a boss. So I got Ianto to sort out his ID and the missing person’s report so he could get his life back, and Martha and I recommended him to UNIT. Last I heard, he was in officer training.”
So he’s all right. That’s a weight off her mind, even if she does still miss him. She’d have asked Jack before, but didn’t want to invite more reminders of the other universe. He does seem to be gradually getting better, though.
At the top of the stairs, she turns automatically towards their room - hers and the Doctor’s - without thinking, Jack’s hand still in hers. He halts, tugging lightly on her hand. “Guess this is where I say goodnight.”
Over his shoulder, she catches the Doctor’s eye. His amused smile tells her it’s up to her. “Don’t go,” she urges Jack. “Come with us. It was nice last night, wasn’t it?”
His palm caresses her cheek. “It was. It’s sweet of you to offer, but I can’t.”
“Why not?” The Doctor’s come up on Jack’s other side and laid a hand on his shoulder. “It’s fine with us.”
Jack looks disbelieving and frustrated. “Of course I can’t! You know I’d be in the way.”
The Doctor says, puzzled, “In the way of what?”
Jack rolls his eyes. “Do I have to spell it out? Look, even if I know I’d enjoy watching, I can’t imagine you guys would want to make love with me there.”
Heat floods her instantly - and it’s not embarrassment. Images of Jack there, watching them... of Jack sliding his big hands over her body, and of her touching him in return. Jack touching the Doctor...
The Doctor opens and closes his mouth a couple of times - but he hasn’t released Jack. Then, as if he’d been completely sure of himself all along, he says, “Ah, too late for that tonight anyway! As for other times... well, who knows?” He winks cheekily at Rose, and her heart jumps at the hint that his thoughts might be heading in the same direction as hers. “Anyway. Let's away, to part the glories of this happy day, and so on and so on - Jack, did you know Shakespeare died in infancy in this universe? But his plays still exist. Supposedly written by that Marlowe chap...”
Arm looped around Jack’s shoulders, the Doctor steers him into their bedroom, and ten minutes and several goodnight kisses later they’re spooned up again, this time with her in the middle, and there’s nowhere else she’d rather be.
***
He’s humming while he works today.
Though he’s still baffled as to why they want him there, there’s no denying that he sleeps better sharing the Doctor and Rose’s bed - and the Doctor swears he didn’t do anything last night to make him sleep. The kisses, both goodnight and good morning, don’t hurt either. Nor does the fact that he definitely caught the Doctor giving his body a good once-over as he undressed last night.
Or that, this morning as he lay drifting between sleep and wakefulness, a warm hand caressed his chest.
It won’t last. Once they realise that he really doesn’t need them to watch over him that much, he’ll be back to goodnight hugs on the landing and sleeping in his own room. That’s okay, though. Just as it should be, and if he needs a bit of additional company every now and again it won’t be that difficult to find.
The important thing is that he’s found somewhere he can call home, at least for a while, and there’s hope of a solution to his curse of immortality, if the Doctor’s right about his other-universe counterpart’s willingness to help. It’s a lot better than he imagined mere months ago that his future would be.
His phone rings. It’s around half-past eleven; got to be the Doctor or Rose suggesting they meet for lunch again. When he sees Rose’s name on the screen, his guess is confirmed.
He’s smiling as he takes the call. “Hey, sweetheart.”
“Jack!” The fear in Rose’s voice has him instantly on alert. “It’s the Doctor! He’s-” She breaks off, and he can hear her panicky intake of breath.
He fights off his own sudden rush of fear, forcing himself to stay calm for her sake. “Rose. Take a deep breath and tell me. What happened?”
“The graffiti,” she says, noticeably less panicky. “The Doctor went out to examine a new patch today. He didn’t come back and he wasn’t answering his phone. I just took a team to investigate, an’ there’s a new message. In English this time.” She takes another audibly shaky breath. “It says...”
“What?” A cold hand’s clamped around his heart, and it’s squeezing. “What does it say, Rose?”
“He is the first. One hundred more each hour until your president surrenders to us.”
***
tbc in chapter 9