Fic: A Dream of Death 2/4
Story: A Dream of Death
Author: wmr / wendymr
Characters: Tenth Doctor, Rose Tyler, Jack Harkness
Rated: PG13
Summary: "I dreamed that one had died in a strange place."
Written for the OT3 Bingo Ficathon at betterwiththree, to the prompt Memento Mori. With many thanks to the incomparable dark_aegis for continued excellence in BRing - of course, any remaining errors are mine. And huge apologies to everyone who has been waiting for this second chapter. Christmas, fandom_stocking emergency fills and various other things got in the way.
Chapter 1: The Indifferent Stars
Chapter 2: In That Solitude
That one had to be the most painful yet.
Jack drags himself to his feet, still a little bit shaky even though his body’s completely healed itself again. The sound of hooves is still receding into the distance, the horses’ riders just flashes of red among the trees.
The good old English hunt. Just an afternoon’s innocent pleasure and an effective way to control the fox population. Yeah, right. He’s not sure if the Master of the Hunt saw him or not, but one thing he is sure of: not many of those riders would even have cared.
Anyway, at least one of them did see him, of that he’s certain. Again, he had that awareness of being watched as he died. Just as well there’s no possibility of it being the same person each time.
He shakes his head and starts making his way back to the road. It’s only to be expected: in the declining days of the British Empire, the privileged classes just don’t want to admit how much their country’s influence is on the wane. They’ll have a rude awakening soon enough, he muses. Less than three years before tens of thousands of young men become nothing more than cannon fodder.
And what of himself? Knowing what’s coming, he could easily make his way to a part of the globe where he’d be isolated from the war - not so he wouldn’t have to fight, but to avoid damaging the timelines with his knowledge.
No. Maybe he used to be a coward, but that’s another thing about him the Doctor’s changed for ever. He can’t just stand by on the sidelines when people are getting killed for a cause he believes in. Come August 1914, he’ll be shipping out to France along with thousands of other servicemen. And, yeah, he’ll have no trouble keeping his knowledge of the timelines to himself. It’s not as if he hasn’t had practice.
On the other hand, why wait? Maybe he should just enlist now. If he’s going to die over and over, it might as well be for a cause he believes in, rather than stupid damn accidents.
The question now is: where’s the nearest recruiting office? Most likely Maidstone. He hoists his sadly-crushed knapsack over his shoulder and begins walking.
***
“Doctor? Doctor! Are you all right? What just happened?”
He drags his eyes open and forces himself to sit up. Bugger. Just what he didn’t want: one of his episodes has happened right in front of Rose.
One of his episodes? Blimey, that’s a bit callous, even for him. Somewhere out there - in England again, probably early twentieth century, though hunting garb didn’t really change a lot for several decades so it’s difficult to tell - Jack’s just been trampled to death by galloping horses. Poor bloke.
He’ll be all right, of course, but it’s still not exactly pleasant.
But Rose saw him. How in the universe is he going to explain this?
Though the solution’s obvious. Lie - as always. Pretend there’s nothing wrong.
“I’m fine! Absolutely fine. It was nothing. Just a completely minor twitch. All over now!” He leaps to his feet. “Where next?”
Rose moves in front of him, blocking his path. “You’re not getting away with it that easily, Doctor. That wasn’t a ‘minor twitch’. An’ what was that about Jack?”
“Jack?” He raises his eyebrows, giving her an innocently confused expression. “What about Jack?”
“You said his name. No, actually, it sounded like you were speaking to him.” Her tone’s firm, and she’s got a look on her face that’s Jackie Tyler at her most dogmatic. Rose isn’t going to let this go. Well, blast it anyway.
He looks past her, towards the console, then smiles brightly, the charming smile that always gets her. “Must just have been thinking of him. Coincidence.”
“No.” Again, she refuses to let him pass. So much for this body’s ability to win Rose over every time. “I don’t believe you, Doctor. I know there’s something going on, an’ I know it’s to do with Jack.”
She’s guessing now - or is she? What has she seen? Did he give anything else away while his mind was linked with the Captain’s?
“Rose, I don’t-”
“Want to talk about it?” she finishes for him. “I’m gettin’ that message, thanks. Thing is, I do. What really happened to Jack, Doctor? ‘Cause I’m beginning to think you lied to me about that, too.”
Too? What else does she think he lied about?
Well, now he has a choice, of course: keep lying, which wouldn’t be too difficult to do convincingly, despite what she’s suspecting so far - or tell her the truth.
Surprisingly, the latter idea - telling her - isn’t terrifying. In fact, what he feels at the prospect is more like relief.
***
She can tell the instant he decides to stop lying to her.
The smile disappears, and his shoulders slump briefly, before he looks her in the eye, weary resolve in his expression. “Yes. I lied to you about Jack.”
It’s still a shock to hear him actually say that he lied. And about that - that part was just a guess, though she knew he was lying about something.
She wants to rush in and demand he tell her everything, now, but the look in his eyes makes her cautious. He’s afraid - of her reaction? Or maybe of acknowledging whatever it is he lied about? It’s bad; somehow she knows that without needing him to tell her.
“Come on.” She wraps her hand around his arm. “Think we need a cuppa for this.”
“Tea!” he exclaims. “Brilliant idea! Love tea. You know, your mum really makes an excellent cup of tea...”
She lets him talk, allowing the words to wash over her as her mind starts speculating on what he means when he says he lied about Jack. Jack’s dead, right? The Daleks killed him. What else could have happened?
Unless... Jack’s not dead... but if that’s the case, then where is he?
Sitting opposite her at the table, the Doctor rakes both hands roughly through his hair, making it stick up in every direction. “Jack’s... not dead,” he says finally. “Well, I say not dead... He did die, Rose. I didn’t lie about that. It was on Satellite Five. The Daleks. He held them back as long as he could to give me time, but in the end they got him. I heard him die.” He pauses, taking a long breath, and for an instant, before he looks away again, she sees the remembered pain in his eyes.
God, Jack. She’d guessed as much - that he was exterminated - but not that the Doctor heard it.
“So...?” she prompts when he doesn’t speak again. How can Jack be not dead? If he was exterminated... People don’t come back from Dalek extermination. Not even the Doctor; he told her that in the days after the Sycorax left, during their extended stay at home.
He scrubs his face. “I didn’t tell you everything about what happened when you came back,” he begins, and now he looks even more uncomfortable.
“There’s a surprise.” She almost rolls her eyes at him. He told her ludicrously little, in fact; just that she did a Blon and the TARDIS gave her what she most wanted: the Daleks gone and the Doctor safe. When she asked him how come he regenerated anyway, he just said that things don’t always work out exactly as planned.
He’s still looking as if this is the most difficult conversation he’s ever had with her, and it probably is. She reaches a hand across the table to cover his. After a moment, he turns his hand palm upwards and wraps his fingers around hers.
“You were the most powerful being in the universe.” He says it with such weight that she just knows it’s a bad thing - a very bad thing. “You wiped out the Daleks. You turned the Emperor into dust. And you brought Jack back to life.”
“I did what?” How on earth could she have resurrected a dead man?
She slumps back in her chair and just gapes at him. She did that? But he did just tell her that she was the most powerful being... “What else did I do?”
“Isn’t that enough?” he says, giving her that wide-eyed look that still says, even in this body, that he thinks she’s being thick. “You had the whole of the Time Vortex inside you, Rose!”
A shiver runs through her, before she makes herself focus on the important fact here. “So what happened then?”
His hand clenches briefly over hers. “You were burning up. You were dying. I took the power out of you and sent it back to the TARDIS.”
He’s looking past her now, straight at the wall, and she can guess at what he’s not saying. Whatever he did to take the power out of her, that’s what killed him.
“I killed you,” she whispers. “You died ‘cause of me.”
“No!” Instantly, he looks at her again. “It was my choice. I chose to have you live. It’s not the first time I’ve regenerated for a friend, and I’m sure it won’t be the last. Besides, I’d’ve been dead - really dead - if not for you. Fair exchange, I’d say.”
It doesn’t feel like it to her. But this isn’t what they came in here to talk about, and she doesn’t want to get sidetracked. “And Jack? What happened to him?”
“Ah.” The Doctor looks away again. “We... ah, we left without him.”
It takes a moment or two for his words to sink in. “No, you left without him. Didn’t you?”
He shrugs faintly. “If you have to put it like that, yeah.”
His careless tone would infuriate her, but she knows it’s his way of hiding his real feelings. He does care - whether it’s for her good opinion, or that he feels guilty about what he did to Jack, she’s not sure, but she hopes it’s the latter.
“Why, Doctor? Why did you leave him?”
He rubs the back of his neck with his free hand. “See, what you have to understand is that Jack’s not Jack any more. Not the way we knew him, anyway. The power of the Vortex made him... well, not exactly human.”
“And you think that matters?” She cuts in before he can continue. “He’s Jack. He’s our friend. And, from what you just said, he died for you - to help you stop the Daleks. An’ you just left him behind because he’s changed?” Her eyes widen in disbelief. “What if I’d walked out on you because you changed? Jus’ left when you took me back home and never even told you I wasn’t coming back?”
“You wouldn’t understand,” he begins. But she slaps the table with her palm, cutting him off.
“Don’t patronise me! I might not be a genius Time Lord, Doctor, but I know when something’s not right. And what you did to Jack - that’s not right.”
His gaze meets hers again, and his eyes are cold and hard. “What about what you did to him?”
“What I did to him?” Defensive, she counters, “All I did was bring him back to li- Wait.” A chill spreads through her as realisation hits. “Is this like when I saved my dad? Did I cause a paradox?”
“No.” Instantly, he’s reassuring. “You were using the heart of the TARDIS. Nothing you did in that moment could’ve caused a paradox. Well, I say that...” She starts to shake, but then he continues, “I don’t think you could have. Haven’t felt anything since, and I would have.”
Relief makes her sag in her chair. But still... “What did I do, then?”
He stretches, then rubs one eye, as if he’s tired. “You made him immortal.”
“I... what?” Whatever she was expecting, it’s not that.
“He can never die. Or, rather, he dies, but he’ll always come back to life. He’ll never age. He’ll never be able to grow old with someone. He’ll just live on and on and on, and any time he gets killed he’ll just wake right back up again, over and over and over, until the universe ends.”
“But that’s...” She can barely get her head around the concept, let alone the Doctor’s statement that she did this to Jack. But it is familiar. “It’s like you said. The curse of the Time Lords, yeah? That you live on and on.”
Jack’s like the Doctor? The two of them will be around for ever? It’s unbelievable, yet she knows he’s not lying about this.
“It’s not the same thing at all.” His tone is flat, dismissive. “I regenerate. And I can die. I will die some day. Jack - well, he’s gonna get sucked into the last black hole when the universe finally collapses in on itself.”
She shivers, and pulls her hand back so she can wrap her arms around herself. This is seriously scary. She did this to Jack - and he’s out there all on his own coping with it.
“And you just left him,” she says, her voice shaky. “You knew all this, and you left him.”
There’s something terrible in his eyes when he answers her, and now he’s the one who’s scaring her. “He’s wrong, Rose. He’s something that shouldn’t exist. I can’t be around him. I can’t even look at him any more.”
He shoves back his chair and stands. In a low voice, he says, “So now you know,” then strides from the room.
***
The sergeant in the recruiting office is initially wary, given Jack’s accent and his apparent age - it seems most recruits are under twenty - but the psychic paper and a story about having emigrated some years ago gets past most of the questions. He explains his motives as not liking the signs from Europe and wanting to be ready to do what’s needed if things get worse. Throwing in a bit of patriotism doesn’t hurt, and within an hour he’s on his way to the Royal Sussex Regiment’s base for six months’ initial training.
In a group of trainees where the average age is just seventeen, Jack’s the oldest by far. He’s also the trainee with most experience, which he explains away by telling people that he was in a local militia in a western state in America; no-one in his class knows enough about America to tell that he’s lying.
The other trainees quickly come to treat him as a mentor of sorts, seeking him out for advice, reassurance and sometimes comfort; for many of them, it’s their first experience of life away from their family home, and the first time they’ve been put through such gruelling demands on their time, energy and motivation. Some, too, are fearful of what lies ahead of them. Many will be sent to India, where soldiers routinely die in skirmishes; others could join the second battalion at the Curragh in Ireland, where frequent ambushes occur even when there isn’t a full rebellion. He’s honest with them about war and what it entails: that it’s far more about doing what you have to do despite being terrified as it is about glory.
He quickly excels in attitude, physical fitness and other aspects of infantry training, though at first he struggles with weapons use. He’s not used to non-automatic weapons, much less something as bulky and awkward to carry as the Lee Enfield rifle. Several times, he almost stabs someone with the bayonet, and narrowly escapes getting stabbed himself. Most irritating is having to clean it; all his previous weapons have been self-cleaning.
He resolves to do what it takes to rise to officer class, if only because then he’ll be able to swap the rifle for a Webley.
Although he gets noticed by trainers, it’s not only for his abilities - which are strong, given his previous experience with the Time Agency and his promotion to Captain. Unsurprisingly, he’s not very good at showing the kind of respect for authority expected of privates in the British Army in the early twentieth century.
By the end of his third week of basic training, the sergeant-major admits that he’s not sure whether to recommend Jack for officer training or put him on report for repeated insubordination. Jack’s almost not sure himself which he’d prefer. Army discipline’s all well and good, but if he’d realised the British Army was this hidebound, he’d have gone back to the US, or maybe even to Australia.
Still, he acknowledges as he completes yet another run at the assault course, kit bag and rifle on his back, it beats getting trampled any day.
***
She’s not going to leave it at that. He saw the shock on her face when he told her that Jack’s immortal and she did it - and the disbelief when she realised that he’d just left Jack behind. She’s not just going to accept that he had no choice.
So it’s no surprise when, ten minutes later, there’s a light tap on the library door and Rose enters without waiting for a reply. The determination on her face warns him what to expect, not that it’s a surprise.
“Can’t tell me something like that and then just walk away, Doctor,” she says, and it’s clear that she’s trying to keep accusation out of her voice.
“Why not?” He turns to face her, raising his eyebrows as he answers. “Nothing more to say, is there?” Even as he’s said it, though, he knows it’s the wrong thing to say. Not just because Rose will never accept it, but because it’s just wrong.
“You’re joking!” Her eyes widen. “You just left him! And what do you mean, he’s wrong?”
“I told you. He’s... It’s a Time Lord thing, Rose. I know it’s hard for you to-”
“Don’t you dare say I wouldn’t understand! Not again!” With her hands on her hips, she’s exactly like a younger version of Jackie again. “He’s our friend! He died to help you. An’ he’s the way he is because I made him that way. How can you blame him for that?”
He tugs at his ear. “I don’t.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” Rose retorts. “What do you think he thought when you just disappeared on him and didn’t come back? I know what I’d think.”
Do you just... leave them behind? Oh, she was more right than she knew when she confronted him with his treatment of Sarah Jane.
“Do you think he knows he’s immortal?” she continues.
His lips tighten. “Oh, yes. He knows.”
“How can you be sure?”
He hesitates, then decides that there’s no harm in telling her this, at least. She’s already seen one of his episodes, after all, and learned enough to link it to Jack. At the rate Jack’s going - though he has only the vaguest idea of how long it’s been for the Captain - she’s going to see him ‘die’ again and again.
“Because he’s already died three times that I know of since Satellite Five.”
Rose’s eyes widen further. She tries to speak, but seems at a loss for words. Finally, she manages to ask, “How? How do you know that?”
“What you saw earlier, out in the console room,” he explains.
“You never told me what that was,” she cuts in before he can continue.
“Well, if you’d let me...” She waves him on with an exaggerated gesture. “Because Jack’s got part of the TARDIS inside him - that’s what’s made him immortal; you sent part of the TARDIS energy into him - I can sense him.”
“You said. You can feel him and he’s wrong.” She pulls a face.
“It’s not just that. The power is at its strongest when he dies, because it repairs all the damage to his body, his cells, everything, and brings him back to life. Because I’m telepathically connected to the TARDIS, it’s as if... oh, as if I can see into his mind at the moment he dies. I end up living that death along with him.” He shivers slightly. “Terribly inconvenient. You saw it - for a minute or so, I’m completely connected to Jack. I mean, quite apart from the fact that I’d really rather not know what it’s like to be trampled by galloping horses - and it’s horrible, if you must know - what if I was doing something highly clever and delicate at the time? Could end up crashing the TARDIS.”
He waits for Rose to make a joke about his driving, but she’s just staring at him, her face white, eyes wide. “Rose? Rose? You all right?”
“Trampled by horses?” she says, her voice barely more than a whisper. “You’re joking, right?”
“Nope. Not joking.” Hands in his pockets, rocking on his heels, he looks at her.
“An’ you call that inconvenient?” She sounds appalled. “Inconvenient? What d’you reckon Jack calls it?”
He sobers, taking a deep breath. “I can’t even imagine, Rose. Well, I can. I’ve died and lived to tell the tale, so to speak. But at the rate he’s going, very soon he’ll have died more times than I have. Three so far, and that’s only the ones I know about. I-”
“Thought you said you feel it every time,” Rose interrupts.
“I do, but only if I’m in the TARDIS. Connection’s strongest here, you see. So he could have died more times than that, but I wouldn’t know.”
“How else did he die?” There’s a peculiar note to her voice that he doesn’t recognise.
“Shot through the heart once, then fell off a cliff onto rocks. Far as I can work out, the first time was in America - maybe New York - but I think he’s in England now.”
He halts because he’s worked out what it is about Rose’s voice. She’s crying, fat tears running down her cheeks as she chokes back a sob.
***
This is worse, far worse, than if Jack was actually dead. Because he’s dying over and over - horribly, from what the Doctor’s just told her - and living to tell the tale. And he’s on his own, because the Doctor left him behind.
Worst of all, it’s her fault. She’s the one who made him like this - and it’s because he’s like this that the Doctor abandoned him.
“Rose?”
The concern in the Doctor’s voice just makes the lump in her throat swell larger. She doesn’t deserve sympathy.
But... No. It’s not all her fault. She raises her head and looks straight at him, at the Doctor, whom she’s hero-worshipped - and, yes, loved - for so long. The hero who’s not a hero after all.
He just walked away from their friend, because suddenly Jack’s something his precious Time Lordship doesn’t approve of. All right, he says that it hurts him to look at Jack, but he shouldn’t have just left. The least he could have done was tell Jack what had happened to him and offered to take Jack somewhere he wanted to go - but if the Doctor was who she thought he was he’d have done better than that. He’d have kept Jack with them and found a way to put things right, to undo what she’d done so that he’d be normal again.
The Doctor takes a step towards her, arms outstretched as if he’s going to hug her. She backs away.
“Don’t touch me. Just... don’t.”
“What?” She almost wants to laugh at the confusion in his voice, except she can’t stop crying.
“You just don’t understand what you’ve done, do you? I thought you were better than that, Doctor.”
There’s a brief flash of what looks like hurt on his face, before it’s replaced by studied indifference. “I’m no hero, Rose. If you hadn’t worked that out by now, you weren’t paying attention.”
That sounds more like something the other Doctor would have said. But she’s too upset to think about that now. “Take me home.”
“Rose!” He sounds shocked. Good.
“Or go an’ get Jack,” she adds, her tone hard. “Your choice.”
***
tbc in chapter 3, Strange Place
Author: wmr / wendymr
Characters: Tenth Doctor, Rose Tyler, Jack Harkness
Rated: PG13
Summary: "I dreamed that one had died in a strange place."
Written for the OT3 Bingo Ficathon at betterwiththree, to the prompt Memento Mori. With many thanks to the incomparable dark_aegis for continued excellence in BRing - of course, any remaining errors are mine. And huge apologies to everyone who has been waiting for this second chapter. Christmas, fandom_stocking emergency fills and various other things got in the way.
Chapter 1: The Indifferent Stars
Chapter 2: In That Solitude
That one had to be the most painful yet.
Jack drags himself to his feet, still a little bit shaky even though his body’s completely healed itself again. The sound of hooves is still receding into the distance, the horses’ riders just flashes of red among the trees.
The good old English hunt. Just an afternoon’s innocent pleasure and an effective way to control the fox population. Yeah, right. He’s not sure if the Master of the Hunt saw him or not, but one thing he is sure of: not many of those riders would even have cared.
Anyway, at least one of them did see him, of that he’s certain. Again, he had that awareness of being watched as he died. Just as well there’s no possibility of it being the same person each time.
He shakes his head and starts making his way back to the road. It’s only to be expected: in the declining days of the British Empire, the privileged classes just don’t want to admit how much their country’s influence is on the wane. They’ll have a rude awakening soon enough, he muses. Less than three years before tens of thousands of young men become nothing more than cannon fodder.
And what of himself? Knowing what’s coming, he could easily make his way to a part of the globe where he’d be isolated from the war - not so he wouldn’t have to fight, but to avoid damaging the timelines with his knowledge.
No. Maybe he used to be a coward, but that’s another thing about him the Doctor’s changed for ever. He can’t just stand by on the sidelines when people are getting killed for a cause he believes in. Come August 1914, he’ll be shipping out to France along with thousands of other servicemen. And, yeah, he’ll have no trouble keeping his knowledge of the timelines to himself. It’s not as if he hasn’t had practice.
On the other hand, why wait? Maybe he should just enlist now. If he’s going to die over and over, it might as well be for a cause he believes in, rather than stupid damn accidents.
The question now is: where’s the nearest recruiting office? Most likely Maidstone. He hoists his sadly-crushed knapsack over his shoulder and begins walking.
***
“Doctor? Doctor! Are you all right? What just happened?”
He drags his eyes open and forces himself to sit up. Bugger. Just what he didn’t want: one of his episodes has happened right in front of Rose.
One of his episodes? Blimey, that’s a bit callous, even for him. Somewhere out there - in England again, probably early twentieth century, though hunting garb didn’t really change a lot for several decades so it’s difficult to tell - Jack’s just been trampled to death by galloping horses. Poor bloke.
He’ll be all right, of course, but it’s still not exactly pleasant.
But Rose saw him. How in the universe is he going to explain this?
Though the solution’s obvious. Lie - as always. Pretend there’s nothing wrong.
“I’m fine! Absolutely fine. It was nothing. Just a completely minor twitch. All over now!” He leaps to his feet. “Where next?”
Rose moves in front of him, blocking his path. “You’re not getting away with it that easily, Doctor. That wasn’t a ‘minor twitch’. An’ what was that about Jack?”
“Jack?” He raises his eyebrows, giving her an innocently confused expression. “What about Jack?”
“You said his name. No, actually, it sounded like you were speaking to him.” Her tone’s firm, and she’s got a look on her face that’s Jackie Tyler at her most dogmatic. Rose isn’t going to let this go. Well, blast it anyway.
He looks past her, towards the console, then smiles brightly, the charming smile that always gets her. “Must just have been thinking of him. Coincidence.”
“No.” Again, she refuses to let him pass. So much for this body’s ability to win Rose over every time. “I don’t believe you, Doctor. I know there’s something going on, an’ I know it’s to do with Jack.”
She’s guessing now - or is she? What has she seen? Did he give anything else away while his mind was linked with the Captain’s?
“Rose, I don’t-”
“Want to talk about it?” she finishes for him. “I’m gettin’ that message, thanks. Thing is, I do. What really happened to Jack, Doctor? ‘Cause I’m beginning to think you lied to me about that, too.”
Too? What else does she think he lied about?
Well, now he has a choice, of course: keep lying, which wouldn’t be too difficult to do convincingly, despite what she’s suspecting so far - or tell her the truth.
Surprisingly, the latter idea - telling her - isn’t terrifying. In fact, what he feels at the prospect is more like relief.
***
She can tell the instant he decides to stop lying to her.
The smile disappears, and his shoulders slump briefly, before he looks her in the eye, weary resolve in his expression. “Yes. I lied to you about Jack.”
It’s still a shock to hear him actually say that he lied. And about that - that part was just a guess, though she knew he was lying about something.
She wants to rush in and demand he tell her everything, now, but the look in his eyes makes her cautious. He’s afraid - of her reaction? Or maybe of acknowledging whatever it is he lied about? It’s bad; somehow she knows that without needing him to tell her.
“Come on.” She wraps her hand around his arm. “Think we need a cuppa for this.”
“Tea!” he exclaims. “Brilliant idea! Love tea. You know, your mum really makes an excellent cup of tea...”
She lets him talk, allowing the words to wash over her as her mind starts speculating on what he means when he says he lied about Jack. Jack’s dead, right? The Daleks killed him. What else could have happened?
Unless... Jack’s not dead... but if that’s the case, then where is he?
Sitting opposite her at the table, the Doctor rakes both hands roughly through his hair, making it stick up in every direction. “Jack’s... not dead,” he says finally. “Well, I say not dead... He did die, Rose. I didn’t lie about that. It was on Satellite Five. The Daleks. He held them back as long as he could to give me time, but in the end they got him. I heard him die.” He pauses, taking a long breath, and for an instant, before he looks away again, she sees the remembered pain in his eyes.
God, Jack. She’d guessed as much - that he was exterminated - but not that the Doctor heard it.
“So...?” she prompts when he doesn’t speak again. How can Jack be not dead? If he was exterminated... People don’t come back from Dalek extermination. Not even the Doctor; he told her that in the days after the Sycorax left, during their extended stay at home.
He scrubs his face. “I didn’t tell you everything about what happened when you came back,” he begins, and now he looks even more uncomfortable.
“There’s a surprise.” She almost rolls her eyes at him. He told her ludicrously little, in fact; just that she did a Blon and the TARDIS gave her what she most wanted: the Daleks gone and the Doctor safe. When she asked him how come he regenerated anyway, he just said that things don’t always work out exactly as planned.
He’s still looking as if this is the most difficult conversation he’s ever had with her, and it probably is. She reaches a hand across the table to cover his. After a moment, he turns his hand palm upwards and wraps his fingers around hers.
“You were the most powerful being in the universe.” He says it with such weight that she just knows it’s a bad thing - a very bad thing. “You wiped out the Daleks. You turned the Emperor into dust. And you brought Jack back to life.”
“I did what?” How on earth could she have resurrected a dead man?
She slumps back in her chair and just gapes at him. She did that? But he did just tell her that she was the most powerful being... “What else did I do?”
“Isn’t that enough?” he says, giving her that wide-eyed look that still says, even in this body, that he thinks she’s being thick. “You had the whole of the Time Vortex inside you, Rose!”
A shiver runs through her, before she makes herself focus on the important fact here. “So what happened then?”
His hand clenches briefly over hers. “You were burning up. You were dying. I took the power out of you and sent it back to the TARDIS.”
He’s looking past her now, straight at the wall, and she can guess at what he’s not saying. Whatever he did to take the power out of her, that’s what killed him.
“I killed you,” she whispers. “You died ‘cause of me.”
“No!” Instantly, he looks at her again. “It was my choice. I chose to have you live. It’s not the first time I’ve regenerated for a friend, and I’m sure it won’t be the last. Besides, I’d’ve been dead - really dead - if not for you. Fair exchange, I’d say.”
It doesn’t feel like it to her. But this isn’t what they came in here to talk about, and she doesn’t want to get sidetracked. “And Jack? What happened to him?”
“Ah.” The Doctor looks away again. “We... ah, we left without him.”
It takes a moment or two for his words to sink in. “No, you left without him. Didn’t you?”
He shrugs faintly. “If you have to put it like that, yeah.”
His careless tone would infuriate her, but she knows it’s his way of hiding his real feelings. He does care - whether it’s for her good opinion, or that he feels guilty about what he did to Jack, she’s not sure, but she hopes it’s the latter.
“Why, Doctor? Why did you leave him?”
He rubs the back of his neck with his free hand. “See, what you have to understand is that Jack’s not Jack any more. Not the way we knew him, anyway. The power of the Vortex made him... well, not exactly human.”
“And you think that matters?” She cuts in before he can continue. “He’s Jack. He’s our friend. And, from what you just said, he died for you - to help you stop the Daleks. An’ you just left him behind because he’s changed?” Her eyes widen in disbelief. “What if I’d walked out on you because you changed? Jus’ left when you took me back home and never even told you I wasn’t coming back?”
“You wouldn’t understand,” he begins. But she slaps the table with her palm, cutting him off.
“Don’t patronise me! I might not be a genius Time Lord, Doctor, but I know when something’s not right. And what you did to Jack - that’s not right.”
His gaze meets hers again, and his eyes are cold and hard. “What about what you did to him?”
“What I did to him?” Defensive, she counters, “All I did was bring him back to li- Wait.” A chill spreads through her as realisation hits. “Is this like when I saved my dad? Did I cause a paradox?”
“No.” Instantly, he’s reassuring. “You were using the heart of the TARDIS. Nothing you did in that moment could’ve caused a paradox. Well, I say that...” She starts to shake, but then he continues, “I don’t think you could have. Haven’t felt anything since, and I would have.”
Relief makes her sag in her chair. But still... “What did I do, then?”
He stretches, then rubs one eye, as if he’s tired. “You made him immortal.”
“I... what?” Whatever she was expecting, it’s not that.
“He can never die. Or, rather, he dies, but he’ll always come back to life. He’ll never age. He’ll never be able to grow old with someone. He’ll just live on and on and on, and any time he gets killed he’ll just wake right back up again, over and over and over, until the universe ends.”
“But that’s...” She can barely get her head around the concept, let alone the Doctor’s statement that she did this to Jack. But it is familiar. “It’s like you said. The curse of the Time Lords, yeah? That you live on and on.”
Jack’s like the Doctor? The two of them will be around for ever? It’s unbelievable, yet she knows he’s not lying about this.
“It’s not the same thing at all.” His tone is flat, dismissive. “I regenerate. And I can die. I will die some day. Jack - well, he’s gonna get sucked into the last black hole when the universe finally collapses in on itself.”
She shivers, and pulls her hand back so she can wrap her arms around herself. This is seriously scary. She did this to Jack - and he’s out there all on his own coping with it.
“And you just left him,” she says, her voice shaky. “You knew all this, and you left him.”
There’s something terrible in his eyes when he answers her, and now he’s the one who’s scaring her. “He’s wrong, Rose. He’s something that shouldn’t exist. I can’t be around him. I can’t even look at him any more.”
He shoves back his chair and stands. In a low voice, he says, “So now you know,” then strides from the room.
***
The sergeant in the recruiting office is initially wary, given Jack’s accent and his apparent age - it seems most recruits are under twenty - but the psychic paper and a story about having emigrated some years ago gets past most of the questions. He explains his motives as not liking the signs from Europe and wanting to be ready to do what’s needed if things get worse. Throwing in a bit of patriotism doesn’t hurt, and within an hour he’s on his way to the Royal Sussex Regiment’s base for six months’ initial training.
In a group of trainees where the average age is just seventeen, Jack’s the oldest by far. He’s also the trainee with most experience, which he explains away by telling people that he was in a local militia in a western state in America; no-one in his class knows enough about America to tell that he’s lying.
The other trainees quickly come to treat him as a mentor of sorts, seeking him out for advice, reassurance and sometimes comfort; for many of them, it’s their first experience of life away from their family home, and the first time they’ve been put through such gruelling demands on their time, energy and motivation. Some, too, are fearful of what lies ahead of them. Many will be sent to India, where soldiers routinely die in skirmishes; others could join the second battalion at the Curragh in Ireland, where frequent ambushes occur even when there isn’t a full rebellion. He’s honest with them about war and what it entails: that it’s far more about doing what you have to do despite being terrified as it is about glory.
He quickly excels in attitude, physical fitness and other aspects of infantry training, though at first he struggles with weapons use. He’s not used to non-automatic weapons, much less something as bulky and awkward to carry as the Lee Enfield rifle. Several times, he almost stabs someone with the bayonet, and narrowly escapes getting stabbed himself. Most irritating is having to clean it; all his previous weapons have been self-cleaning.
He resolves to do what it takes to rise to officer class, if only because then he’ll be able to swap the rifle for a Webley.
Although he gets noticed by trainers, it’s not only for his abilities - which are strong, given his previous experience with the Time Agency and his promotion to Captain. Unsurprisingly, he’s not very good at showing the kind of respect for authority expected of privates in the British Army in the early twentieth century.
By the end of his third week of basic training, the sergeant-major admits that he’s not sure whether to recommend Jack for officer training or put him on report for repeated insubordination. Jack’s almost not sure himself which he’d prefer. Army discipline’s all well and good, but if he’d realised the British Army was this hidebound, he’d have gone back to the US, or maybe even to Australia.
Still, he acknowledges as he completes yet another run at the assault course, kit bag and rifle on his back, it beats getting trampled any day.
***
She’s not going to leave it at that. He saw the shock on her face when he told her that Jack’s immortal and she did it - and the disbelief when she realised that he’d just left Jack behind. She’s not just going to accept that he had no choice.
So it’s no surprise when, ten minutes later, there’s a light tap on the library door and Rose enters without waiting for a reply. The determination on her face warns him what to expect, not that it’s a surprise.
“Can’t tell me something like that and then just walk away, Doctor,” she says, and it’s clear that she’s trying to keep accusation out of her voice.
“Why not?” He turns to face her, raising his eyebrows as he answers. “Nothing more to say, is there?” Even as he’s said it, though, he knows it’s the wrong thing to say. Not just because Rose will never accept it, but because it’s just wrong.
“You’re joking!” Her eyes widen. “You just left him! And what do you mean, he’s wrong?”
“I told you. He’s... It’s a Time Lord thing, Rose. I know it’s hard for you to-”
“Don’t you dare say I wouldn’t understand! Not again!” With her hands on her hips, she’s exactly like a younger version of Jackie again. “He’s our friend! He died to help you. An’ he’s the way he is because I made him that way. How can you blame him for that?”
He tugs at his ear. “I don’t.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” Rose retorts. “What do you think he thought when you just disappeared on him and didn’t come back? I know what I’d think.”
Do you just... leave them behind? Oh, she was more right than she knew when she confronted him with his treatment of Sarah Jane.
“Do you think he knows he’s immortal?” she continues.
His lips tighten. “Oh, yes. He knows.”
“How can you be sure?”
He hesitates, then decides that there’s no harm in telling her this, at least. She’s already seen one of his episodes, after all, and learned enough to link it to Jack. At the rate Jack’s going - though he has only the vaguest idea of how long it’s been for the Captain - she’s going to see him ‘die’ again and again.
“Because he’s already died three times that I know of since Satellite Five.”
Rose’s eyes widen further. She tries to speak, but seems at a loss for words. Finally, she manages to ask, “How? How do you know that?”
“What you saw earlier, out in the console room,” he explains.
“You never told me what that was,” she cuts in before he can continue.
“Well, if you’d let me...” She waves him on with an exaggerated gesture. “Because Jack’s got part of the TARDIS inside him - that’s what’s made him immortal; you sent part of the TARDIS energy into him - I can sense him.”
“You said. You can feel him and he’s wrong.” She pulls a face.
“It’s not just that. The power is at its strongest when he dies, because it repairs all the damage to his body, his cells, everything, and brings him back to life. Because I’m telepathically connected to the TARDIS, it’s as if... oh, as if I can see into his mind at the moment he dies. I end up living that death along with him.” He shivers slightly. “Terribly inconvenient. You saw it - for a minute or so, I’m completely connected to Jack. I mean, quite apart from the fact that I’d really rather not know what it’s like to be trampled by galloping horses - and it’s horrible, if you must know - what if I was doing something highly clever and delicate at the time? Could end up crashing the TARDIS.”
He waits for Rose to make a joke about his driving, but she’s just staring at him, her face white, eyes wide. “Rose? Rose? You all right?”
“Trampled by horses?” she says, her voice barely more than a whisper. “You’re joking, right?”
“Nope. Not joking.” Hands in his pockets, rocking on his heels, he looks at her.
“An’ you call that inconvenient?” She sounds appalled. “Inconvenient? What d’you reckon Jack calls it?”
He sobers, taking a deep breath. “I can’t even imagine, Rose. Well, I can. I’ve died and lived to tell the tale, so to speak. But at the rate he’s going, very soon he’ll have died more times than I have. Three so far, and that’s only the ones I know about. I-”
“Thought you said you feel it every time,” Rose interrupts.
“I do, but only if I’m in the TARDIS. Connection’s strongest here, you see. So he could have died more times than that, but I wouldn’t know.”
“How else did he die?” There’s a peculiar note to her voice that he doesn’t recognise.
“Shot through the heart once, then fell off a cliff onto rocks. Far as I can work out, the first time was in America - maybe New York - but I think he’s in England now.”
He halts because he’s worked out what it is about Rose’s voice. She’s crying, fat tears running down her cheeks as she chokes back a sob.
***
This is worse, far worse, than if Jack was actually dead. Because he’s dying over and over - horribly, from what the Doctor’s just told her - and living to tell the tale. And he’s on his own, because the Doctor left him behind.
Worst of all, it’s her fault. She’s the one who made him like this - and it’s because he’s like this that the Doctor abandoned him.
“Rose?”
The concern in the Doctor’s voice just makes the lump in her throat swell larger. She doesn’t deserve sympathy.
But... No. It’s not all her fault. She raises her head and looks straight at him, at the Doctor, whom she’s hero-worshipped - and, yes, loved - for so long. The hero who’s not a hero after all.
He just walked away from their friend, because suddenly Jack’s something his precious Time Lordship doesn’t approve of. All right, he says that it hurts him to look at Jack, but he shouldn’t have just left. The least he could have done was tell Jack what had happened to him and offered to take Jack somewhere he wanted to go - but if the Doctor was who she thought he was he’d have done better than that. He’d have kept Jack with them and found a way to put things right, to undo what she’d done so that he’d be normal again.
The Doctor takes a step towards her, arms outstretched as if he’s going to hug her. She backs away.
“Don’t touch me. Just... don’t.”
“What?” She almost wants to laugh at the confusion in his voice, except she can’t stop crying.
“You just don’t understand what you’ve done, do you? I thought you were better than that, Doctor.”
There’s a brief flash of what looks like hurt on his face, before it’s replaced by studied indifference. “I’m no hero, Rose. If you hadn’t worked that out by now, you weren’t paying attention.”
That sounds more like something the other Doctor would have said. But she’s too upset to think about that now. “Take me home.”
“Rose!” He sounds shocked. Good.
“Or go an’ get Jack,” she adds, her tone hard. “Your choice.”
***
tbc in chapter 3, Strange Place