Fic: A Dream of Death 4/5
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, and for superb science and hand-wavy sci-fi knowledge - of course, any remaining errors are mine. And, yes, it's morphed. Five chapters now, and the fifth is well under way.
Chapter 1: The Indifferent Stars l Chapter 2: In That Solitude l Chapter 3: Strange Place
Chapter 4: Nail the Boards
Aww, hell. Yes, it’s difficult to be around Jack, and not just because of the Captain being a fixed point, but he never intended this. Has he really made Jack feel that unwelcome?
Well... yes, he has, hasn’t he? It’s surprising that Rose hasn’t ripped him apart for it yet. Won’t be long before she does.
The only hope he has of retrieving the situation is to be honest with Jack. Well, maybe not about everything, but there are some things he can - should, actually - tell Jack. Things he deserves to know, and that should be said.
“I’m sorry, Jack. No, listen,” he adds quickly as the Captain starts to interrupt again. “You’ve got it wrong. And that’s my fault, not yours. None of this is your fault. And it’s not that I don’t want you here. I do want you. Course I do.”
“Yeah, right.” Jack’s tone is clipped and his fists are clenched, but he’s listening and making eye contact. Progress, at least.
“I do. It’s difficult, that’s all. You see-”
“You only went to get me because Rose insisted,” Jack cuts in. “And don’t say you didn’t. I don’t want your lies.”
How long has it been for Jack? Long enough to turn him into this bitter, angry man who bears little resemblance to the friend who died for him.
Steeling himself for the zing of what feels like electrical impulses shooting through every muscle in his body, he comes out from behind the console and walks towards Jack. “Yes, Rose asked me to - and, in the interests of full disclosure, I only told her today that you were alive, so don’t blame her for not making me come sooner. Before today, she knew the Daleks had killed you and I didn’t tell her anything different.” He rubs the back of his neck. “Hate me for that if you want. I wouldn’t blame you. But if I didn’t want you here I would have said no when she asked.”
Jack’s eyes widen at that, and then he nods. “Yeah. You’re enough of a bastard to do that - even when it’s her. So why am I here?”
He rocks on his heels. “Because you need to be here. Jack, you’re... something unique. There’s never been anything like you before in the universe, and it’s unlikely there ever will again. Do you know what you’ve become?”
Jack’s upper lip curls in a sneer. “What I’ve become? I’m a thing now, am I?”
“Jack, Jack, Jack...” He shakes his head. “I didn’t mean that. You know I didn’t.”
“Do I?” Jack’s eyes narrow. “I thought I knew the last you. I don’t know this you at all. How do I know you didn’t mean that?” Before the Doctor can interject, Jack raises a hand. “Okay. So I believe you. To answer your question, I’m immortal, right?”
This is going to be even harder than he imagined. What a mess this is. “Well, yes, but it’s how you’re immortal that I’m talking about. You’re a fixed point in time, Jack. Every other living thing in the universe is affected by time - even me. Time flows through us and we grow older. You, now... time can’t touch you. It comes up close, takes a good look, and then backs away from you.” What Jack is is wrong, of course, and shouldn’t exist - but he’s not going to say that. He might be rude in this regeneration, but even he knows there’s a line it’s best not to cross.
“And so?” Jack asks slowly.
“For one thing,” he explains, “I can feel you. It’s a Time Lord thing. You... well, you hurt. Even just looking at you, I can feel it.”
“You mean I hurt you? As in actual pain?” Jack’s eyes are wide, and it looks like he’s struggling between dismay and disbelief.
“Yep.” He extends one hand, palm down, and watches it tremble infinitesimally. “Feels a bit like an electric shock. Not bad enough to disable me, but it’s there all the same. The closer I get to you, the worse it gets.”
Jack takes several steps backwards. “Then I should leave.” It’s clear that he’s biting back more - anger or hurt he can’t be sure.
He shrugs. “I’ll get used to it. And you should be here. Not a good idea to have you wandering through Earth history anywhere you want. Who knows what could change as a result?”
Jack glares. Right. Put his foot in it again, didn’t he? But it had to be said.
“You don’t think I was being careful? Doctor, I’m not an idiot or a child. I’ve been a time-traveller. I know the dangers.”
He nods. Yes, Jack does - or at least he should. “And yet there you were, a private in training in the British infantry. What were you planning to do in 1914?” Jack doesn’t answer. “I thought so,” he continues, softening his voice, hoping that he’ll sound less as if he’s criticising instead of explaining. “If you took a bullet or a bayonet originally meant for someone else... Jack, one little change could be devastating.” As a thought strikes him, he asks, “How long has it been for you, anyway?”
“Forty-two years.” The words are clipped.
He rubs the back of his neck. “So much you already could have damaged. Yes, I know you’d try not to. You’re a sensible bloke and a time-traveller. But still.”
Jack’s expression turns bitter. “If that matters so much to you, you shouldn’t have left me behind. If you didn’t want me here - if it hurts you so damn much to be around me - all you had to do was dump me somewhere in the fifty-first century. Oh, and maybe told me what was going on. Might’ve helped, you know.”
It would have. Can’t argue with that. He shuffles his feet. “I know. I should have. Problem is, I’m a coward, Jack. It was just... well... easier to run. Shouldn’t have. I’m sorry. Easy to say, I know, but I do mean it.”
Jack doesn’t answer, and the Doctor has the sense that this is a make-or-break moment. If he says or does the wrong thing now, the Captain will leave. It takes his breath away to realise how little he wants that to happen.
Too many friends lost over the years - yes, that’s part of it. But not all of it.
Jack’s important enough to fight for.
He swallows, then straightens, shoulders back, and walks towards Jack. He doesn’t stop until there’s less than a foot of distance between them, and then he lays both hands on Jack’s shoulders. “Welcome home.”
***
This Doctor’s new to him. He hasn’t yet had an opportunity to learn the clues and cues that tell him when the Doctor’s being sincere and when he’s being disingenuous - but, however much he was sceptical about the Doctor’s serious intent earlier in this conversation, he’d swear that the man means every word of what he’s just said. Even if he knows damn well that he hasn’t even begun to get the full story about why the Doctor left him behind on Satellite Five.
Because of this... allergy the Doctor now has to him? Because he’s alive when he should have been dead, and the Doctor, the Lord of Time, didn’t like that? Because the Doctor wanted Rose all to himself? But... no. Whatever else, by the time they were kidnapped and brought to Satellite Five he knew the Doctor liked having him around.
He’s got every right to demand explanations, and he will, but for now he’s had a sincere apology and even a welcome home. It’s not enough, but it’s a start - and for the Doctor it’s probably a significant achievement. Plus, didn’t he say that being around Jack hurts him? Yet he’s come right over and is touching him. That’s got to count for something. Probably quite a lot, in fact.
“Guess I’m the last person who’d have any right to hold being a coward against you,” he says, the lump in his throat that’s appeared from nowhere turning his voice into a whisper.
The Doctor’s answering smile is lop-sided, and wry. “You were always a braver man than I am.”
His hands, hanging by his sides, curl and clench; he’s itching to hug the Doctor, despite his anger of a few minutes ago, but how can he? Even being this close to him has to be an ordeal for the Doctor. He can’t make it worse.
He steps back, gesturing the Doctor away carelessly. “Go on, Doctor, no point you putting up with unnecessary pain just because of me.”
The Doctor doesn’t move. He studies Jack, head slightly tilted, brows drawn together - and then, abruptly, his eyes widen. “No! No, it’s fine. Really. Well... I say that. It’s not as bad as it was. Really quite bearable, actually.”
“Don’t-” Lie to me, he starts to protest, but he doesn’t get to finish his sentence. The Doctor propels himself forward, and abruptly Jack finds himself enfolded in long, firm arms, held tightly against the Doctor’s much thinner frame.
Is the Doctor hugging him because he wants to, or because he feels guilty? Impossible to tell. So far, this Doctor seems far less transparent than in his last body. With the other Doctor, the brooding, amazing man in the leather jacket, Jack could always read what he was really thinking simply by watching his eyes. This version’s learned to hide better - or maybe it’s just that the last Doctor, the wounded survivor of the Time War, was the one who’d lost his skill at being enigmatic.
But whatever the Doctor’s motivation, Jack can’t help responding, especially when it’s something he wants so badly, this gesture of belonging. So he hugs back.
And then releases the Doctor abruptly and backs away once he feels the tension in the other man’s body, the pain he’s trying to hide.
“You weren’t kidding about it hurting you to be around me,” he says, almost gasping from the pain in his own gut. He can’t possibly stay now, and just as he was starting to believe that everything was going to be okay.
The Doctor tugs at his ear. “It is getting better, Jack. Told you. The longer I’m around you, the easier it gets.”
He wraps his arms around himself. “You shouldn’t have to get used to it. I should-”
“No.” Abruptly, the Doctor sounds every bit as forceful as the other version of him ever did. “No need for that, Jack. Rose wants you here. I want you here. Well, won’t force you to stay if you really don’t want to,” he adds, tone suddenly uncertain. “But I don’t think that’s true, is it?”
Jack doesn’t answer. Sure, none of this is his fault, but still, what right does he have to make the Doctor put up with the physical pain of being around him every day?
“Sleep on it,” the Doctor says, turning away and walking back to the console. “Things usually look better after a good night’s sleep. Or so I’ve heard.” He flashes Jack a quick smile. “Go on, then. Your room’s still in the same place, though you know that already, don’t you?”
Dismissed, Jack’s got no other option than to go to bed. Though he can’t deny that sleep sounds very appealing right now.
Back in his room, in his bed, he has the best night’s sleep he’s had in over forty years. Too bad it’s only going to be this one night.
***
The Doctor’s alone in the console room when she sneaks in early the next morning. Good. She was hoping to get him without Jack around.
“Cuppa?” she offers with a grin, walking over to him. As he takes it, with a surprised but happy smile, she pulls her other hand out from where it was hidden behind her back. “Toast?”
“Ooh! With marmalade?” She nods. “Brilliant! Toast with marmalade! I do love your English inventions. I mean, marmalade! Whoever decided that boiling oranges, rind and all, in water with tons of sugar was a good idea deserves some sort of award, don’t you think?”
“What, the Time Lord’s Marmalade Medal?” she teases, curling her tongue over her teeth.
He grins around the mouthful of toast he’s chewing. “Why not?” she thinks he says, his words somewhat indistinct because he’s eating.
Swallowing the last bite, he looks at her, his expression serious. “Am I forgiven, then?”
She meets his gaze. “Are you sorry?”
His eyes widen momentarily, acknowledging points to her. “I thought I was doing the right thing leaving Jack behind. Never thought about you missing him, or how he’d feel finding out about being immortal on his own.”
“Right.” She nods, relieved that he’s actually admitted that much. Yesterday, before her ultimatum, he was being so stubborn, so always-right Time Lord, that she was beginning to despair of anything like this. Now, though, he’s not only acknowledging that he was wrong, he’s also back to being the Doctor she was getting to know all over again - and love all over again. “So, are you sorry?”
His expression’s rueful. “Not going to let me get away with it, hmm? All right, then. Yes. I am.”
“Good.” She closes the distance between them and reaches for him.
He wraps his arms around her in return, tucking her head into the crook of his shoulder as he hugs her. “Didn’t want you to leave,” he murmurs, his mouth very close to her ear.
“Didn’t want to go,” she admits. Pulling back to look at him, she adds, “Should say that to Jack, though. That you’re sorry, I mean.”
His grin says that this time he’s got one up on her. “Already did. Last night,” he adds as she frowns at him, wondering when he could have had a chance to do that.
“Good.” On impulse, she seizes her courage in both hands and presses a kiss to his cheek, then releases him and steps back. He looks flustered, glancing down towards the floor and rubbing the back of his neck.
She’d make good her escape while she could - they’ve never been like that, him and her; oh, they hug a lot, and hold hands, but never so much as a kiss on the cheek before now, other than Cassandra, and they’ve never talked about that - but there’s something she has to ask him still. It’s only fair, since she pushed the issue about Jack.
“You all right, then?” she asks, the concern she feels obvious in her voice.
“Me?” He sounds genuinely surprised. “I’m always all right.”
Liar, she thinks, but doesn’t say it. “I mean with having Jack around. You said you can feel what he is. That it hurts you.”
“Oh.” He shrugs, rocking on his heels. “I’ll get used to it.”
“No, really, I mean it. You’re not gonna have to keep, like, fifty feet from each other all the time or something?”
There’s genuine amusement in his eyes as he answers her. “Shouldn’t have to do anything that drastic. It’s a bit like... oh, you know how nails on a blackboard makes you feel?”
She winces. “Hate that noise.”
“But it’s not just the noise, is it? Sets all your nerves on edge, yeah?”
“Yeah.” She nods. “So it’s sort of like that, then?”
“Yeah, just without the noise. When he’s in the room, and more when I look at him. But I mean it - I will get used to it. The more he’s around, the easier it gets, anyway.”
“I’m glad.” It is a relief. Of course she doesn’t want the Doctor in constant pain, and if that really was how he felt how could she possibly insist that he keeps Jack around?
And she wants Jack here. Oh, it’s not that she hasn’t liked the way things have been, just her and the Doctor, since he regenerated - just as she liked being with him in his first body. Well, the first body she knew, anyway. But once Jack joined them it got even better. All right, part of it’s just having another human around, especially when the Doctor goes off on one of his I’m a superior being rants, but it’s not just that. Adam just didn’t cut it - when he was on board, she had to spend most of her time soothing his bruised ego and trying to keep him away from the Doctor because she knew he drove the Doctor up the wall. Mickey was better when he was around, but it still wasn’t the same. Yes, it was partly the two of them behaving badly towards him, and she is ashamed of that, but Mickey could have stood up for himself more.
Or she could have bothered to take his side occasionally, she reminds herself caustically. It really is her fault that Mickey left.
But it was always different with Jack around. The three of them laughed, played, ran - into danger and out of it again - and saved each other’s lives over and over. Jack understood her when sometimes the Doctor didn’t, and he and the Doctor bonded over time-travel and mechanics, and all three of them cared about each other. Maybe even more.
Hard to believe, still, that the Doctor left Jack behind. But then, that was her fault too, wasn’t it?
At least this time she’ll be able to make up for it.
***
After the best sleep he’s had in decades, Jack’s up, showered and on his way to the kitchen in search of breakfast. Well, mostly in search of what he hopes will be a decent cup of coffee, if the TARDIS still remembers how he likes it.
The aroma of freshly-cooked toast greets him as he approaches the door, and his stomach rumbles. He’s obviously hungrier than he thought.
There is coffee too, he realises as he walks into the kitchen and smells the just-brewed carafe. “Rose, I could kiss you!” he announces as he almost breaks into a run. She remembered that he hated instant when he was travelling with them before, and she’s been thoughtful enough to make it ready for him now.
She grins, the same wide, cheeky smile he remembers. “You already did. So what’s stopping you now?”
Oh, he’s missed flirting with her! The difference is, of course, that all those years ago he’d never have dreamed of doing more than flirting back, as much as he wanted to. Now, though... “I did. And you liked it.” He allows a slow smile to curve over his lips as his gaze travels down her body, then up again.
Her cheeks flush pink. “Yeah, I did.”
He takes a step closer to her, then slides his palms along either side of her face, tilting it towards him. Then he lowers his head, slowly enough to give her time to pull away - but she doesn’t.
She tastes of tea and marmalade, and laughter and wonder and joy: everything he’s missed over the last forty-two years and that he was beginning to think he’d never know again. He meant this to be a brief kiss of thanks for caring, but now he’s finding it hard to let her go.
Rose doesn’t seem to mind. Her hands have found their way to his waist and she’s pulling him closer to her, parting her lips under his, sliding her tongue forward to taste his.
Until they both need to breathe, and he pulls back, resting his forehead against hers for a moment, trying to calm himself, to still the urge he has to lift her up onto the counter, pull her jeans off and bury himself inside her.
She leans her head back so she can look at him, and her eyes are alight.
“Thought you wanted coffee?” Oh, she knows how to tease, and he’ll get his revenge for that - later.
“It’ll keep.” He nudges her closer to the counter with his body, then hesitates as a thought strikes him. “Not treading on anyone’s toes, am I?”
She seems surprised at the question. “Nah. Broke up with Mickey ages ago - and he’s not around any more anyway.”
Not around? But that’ll keep. “Didn’t mean Mickey.”
“Oh!” She blushes again, so prettily that he wants to kiss her again. “He’s not interested. I’d think he just... doesn’t, not with humans, except...” Rose chews her lip, and her eyes reveal hurt.
“Not interested?” A shout of laughter escapes him. “Rose, have you seen the way he looks at you sometimes? Or the way he used to look at me any time I got too close to you? That is so not a man who’s not interested.”
“Really?” Oh, she’s got it bad. Sounds like she wants so badly to believe him, but just can’t let herself. “But he’s never even...” She shrugs. “Well, not with me. I know he snogged someone we met a while back. Might even have shagged her - I can’t be sure. But he’s never so much as hinted with me.”
“Doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to, though.” He releases her and steps back. “So, okay, I might be treading on someone’s toes, then.”
She catches his hand. “Not as far as I’m concerned.” He raises one eyebrow, silently asking if she’s sure. There’s no hesitation as she nods. “Thing is, I always... You were always special to me too, Jack. I know it’s... well, a bit weird. My mate Shareen’d say it’s kinky. But I felt the same way about both of you.”
He has to stifle the urge to laugh, reminding himself that she’s from three millennia before him. And, after all, he’s just had several decades to get used to more primitive cultural standards. “There’s nothing weird or kinky about that, Rose, trust me.” He strokes a finger down her cheek. “I’ve been in triad relationships before - three people,” he explains, as she frowns at the unfamiliar word. “Four as well, and even five briefly, though that starts getting confusing.”
She blinks, and he smiles reassuringly, squeezing her hand. “Three sounds good to me.” Not that it will to the Doctor, of course. Even if the guy was the type to share, or even if he were attracted to Jack in the first place, his... what, his allergy? - to what Jack is now would make that impossible.
“And, yeah, you were always special to me, as well. Still are.” He drops Rose’s hand. “Right now, I need coffee. Do you realise I haven’t had a decent cup of coffee in over forty years?”
***
Today, when they go out, it’s a lot better. The Doctor’s back to the smiling, bouncy bloke she’s got used to over the past few months, urging them to hurry up once they arrive in the console room because they’re just about to land.
He talks nineteen to the dozen as he runs towards the door, barely pausing as he swings his coat wide and shoves his arm in one sleeve - she’s just in time to grab the other and hold it for him - and he actually slings an arm around both their shoulders for a few moments to usher them in the direction he wants to go once they’re outside.
“Osciluron! In the Spido galaxy. D’you know it, Jack? Twin suns, four moons and a ring of gas around the equator. Not that you’d see it from here; we’re in the northern hemisphere, right around... ooh, where Norway is on Earth.”
“Never been,” Jack says, looking around and turning on one heel in a circle as he does. “Passed by the galaxy once, but I was in pursuit of an escaped prisoner at the time, so can’t say I had a lot of time for sightseeing.”
“Pity. Worth a visit,” the Doctor says, striding forward, hands shoved deep in his trouser pockets.
“What’s so special about this place, then?” Rose asks, running a little to catch up with him. He turns to smile at her as she reaches his side, instantly pulling his hand out of his pocket and waggling it at her. She curls her fingers around his.
“Quidditch!” he exclaims. She blinks, then stares at him. He grins. “Really! The Oscilurons are the only species in the universe who play quidditch.”
“What, flying around on broomsticks an’ all?” Is he having her on?
“Well... I say broomsticks. They’re more like rakes, really, but the principle’s the same. I’m telling you, when I read the first Potter book, I had to make sure old JK wasn’t an Osciluron in disguise. She’s not, by the way, but it’s still one heck of a coincidence, don’t you think? Anyway, if I’ve got the time right - and I’m always right - we should just be in time to get tickets for the final.”
“I dunno about that,” Jack says, now walking on the Doctor’s other side. “Looks like they might have other things on their mind at the moment.”
He gestures ahead of them, and Rose turns to look. He’s right. They’ve come around a bend in the pathway they’re following, and now in the distance she can see streams of people heading in their direction. They’re walking, or on carts, or riding on animals, and the one thing they all have in common is that they’re carrying things: bundles, bags, things of all shapes and sizes.
“You’re right, Jack,” the Doctor murmurs softly. “They’re not heading to a quidditch match.”
“Nope,” Jack says, and his tone’s grim. “They’re fleeing for their lives.”
***
Of course, they have to stay and find out what’s going on. They’re here, after all. And even if he had a momentary thought about sending Rose, at least, back to the TARDIS - after all, there’s not much harm Jack can come to now - he didn’t pursue it. She wouldn’t go, and he’d only waste time arguing with her about it.
It takes about fifteen minutes for them to meet up with the first lot of refugees. He gives them a friendly wave. “Hello! I’m the Doctor; this is Rose and Jack. We came for the quidditch, but it seems like we got the timing wrong, did we?”
“Been under a rock?” one woman retorts. She’s got one small child clinging to her neck, and another two at her skirts, and her face carries the worries of someone twice her age.
“Off-worlders,” he tries to explain; Oscilurons are humanoid as well. But she’s already hurrying past him.
“Antimatter reactor’s gone critical,” an older man explains. “They say it’s going to blow any day now. We’re all getting out while we can.”
The Doctor frowns. “Can’t they fix it?”
“Everyone who knows how to got killed in the first leak.” The man gives a helpless shrug. “Always said it was too dangerous, not that anyone’d listen.”
“How big’s the reactor?” There’s urgency in Jack’s voice.
He turns to the Captain. “Big enough to turn this entire planet into a wasteland.”
“Then we’ve got to fix it,” Jack says, as if there’s no other option. Well, there really isn’t. “Tell me how to find it.”
How has we become me? “It’s probably a couple of miles or so from here.” He turns to Rose, raking a hand through his hair. “Go back to the TARDIS. Please.”
“No. I might be able to help.” She starts walking - towards the city, and the reactor.
“Rose-”
“You’re wasting time,” she says without looking back.
He gives Jack a helpless look. Jack shrugs, then taps his wrist. “You know this thing works as a teleport?” He nods. “Well, it did,” Jack adds, pulling a face. “But if you can fix it, then if it looks like the thing’s about to blow you and Rose can teleport back to the TARDIS. As long as you get there in time to let yourself in, you’ll be fine.”
Rose turns around and glares at Jack. “An’ what about you?”
He shrugs again. “Can’t die. I’m guessing that applies to vaporisation by antimatter explosion?” he asks, still looking at the Doctor and raising an eyebrow.
“That’d be my guess,” he confirms. His stomach’s churning. Yes, Jack would survive it, but how agonising would be the death he’d die first? And if he died in an explosion leading to the destruction of the planet, how would they even find him again?
The irony of that strikes him, given that up until Rose’s ultimatum the previous day he was happy to run as far from Jack as he could. Now it seems like that’s the last thing he wants.
Jack, still holding his gaze, gives one brief nod. Oh, yes, he knows what he’s letting himself in for, all right. “Come on. Like Rose said, we’re wasting time.”
***
In the end, it’s a lot easier than Jack imagined. Yes, the reactor’s going critical, with alarms and lights going off all over the place, but the fault’s pretty obvious, shown on the control-panel of the central computer. The only reason no-one was able to fix it is that the room the fault’s in is flooded with antimatter radiation - too powerful even for the protective suits the engineers had. The closed-circuit cameras show bodies, and the remains of bodies, littering the centre core of the reactor.
Jack, of course, can go anywhere he wants without any danger to himself. He wasn’t sure at first whether that would be the case, or whether he’d die every few minutes from radiation poisoning and have to revive and start again. But it seems that he’s immune; a quick test in one of the contaminated rooms tells him that.
“You know what you’re doing?” the Doctor asks, his voice tense, as Jack prepares to go in and do his repair-job.
“Course I do.” He grins, more to reassure them than himself. “Might not be a Time Lord, but I know basic particle physics, and I’m a dab hand with a screwdriver.”
“Sonic one?” The Doctor holds out a hand, and the sonic screwdriver’s in it.
He takes it, very surprised. “Thanks. I’ll be fine,” he adds. “Looks like this can’t kill me, so I should be back out in half an hour or so, maybe less.” He takes his Vortex manipulator off and hands it to the Doctor. “Just in case. Get yourselves safe if you have to.”
The Doctor actually looks as if he’s about to protest, but in the end just takes the manipulator and nods. “If that happens, Jack, we’ll find you. I promise.”
For a moment, he’s frozen to the spot. The Doctor can’t even tell him why he left him behind on Satellite Five, yet now he’s promising this?
He’s got no idea how to respond to that, so he doesn’t even try. He sketches a careless salute. “See you in hell.”
Rose runs at him and hugs him quickly before he can leave, and the Doctor comes close, pressing a hand on his shoulder. Then he’s gone, running down the corridors to the machine room where the flashing light indicated the fault.
Fixing it really does turn out to be embarrassingly easy. His own skills, together with the Doctor’s advice over the headset he’s wearing - and of course the Doctor can see him on the camera system - help him to remove the failed part and replace it in just over twenty minutes. A few more minutes is all it takes to switch on the flushing systems to vent the excess radiation out; with the technology here, this reactor will be usable again in perhaps a couple of years. And then he’s on his way back out, job done.
There’s even a decontamination chamber conveniently situated just beside the exit. A few minutes in there and - if the displays are accurate - he’s clean. No particles stuck in his clothes or hair or anywhere on his skin.
All the same, he doesn’t want to take any chances. “I’m coming out of the chamber,” he tells the Doctor. “Maybe you should pass through my wristcomp before I’m out of here, so I can scan myself just in case.”
But, when he leaves the chamber, the exit door is wide open, and the Doctor stands there, Vortex manipulator in his hand, the flap open. “See?” he says, tone triumphant. “I’m scanning you. Not a beep in sight. Scan yourself with the screwdriver. You’ll get the same answer.”
“I believe you,” he says, handing the screwdriver back and accepting his manipulator in return.
The Doctor pats him on the back. “Nice job.”
The three of them are still grinning as they exit the facility. Okay, the reactor’s going to be out of commission for a long time yet, and they’ve still got to try to get the message to the Oscilurons that their planet’s safe. But it is a job well done. There won’t be any antimatter explosion today.
“Oi! Get away from there!”
The shout comes from somewhere to the east of them, towards the city centre. Jack whirls around in search of the source. Three people - two men and a woman - in what looks like military uniform are running towards them, weapons ready.
“It’s all right!” the Doctor shouts back, waving a hand. “We just fixed your reactor.”
One of the soldiers aims his rifle straight at the Doctor. Jack doesn’t think twice; he steps in front of the Doctor and takes the bullet. A fierce, agonising pain spreads through him as it hits him in the chest, but at least the guy’s a good shot. Oblivion follows quickly afterwards.
When he wakes, the first thing he notices is that his T-shirt’s soaked. Blood, of course; he pulls a face as he glances down at the now-mostly-crimson blue T-shirt he put on this morning. Damn. He liked that one.
The second thing he notices is that he’s reclining against a warm body. Rose’s, he realises quickly, from the hair brushing his face and the soft curves pressed against his shoulder. The Doctor’s crouched beside him, concern on his face. “Welcome back, Jack,” he says, his voice low. “Think we should make a quick exit, if you’re up to it. Would’ve used your manipulator, but I thought it was more important to try to convince them the planet’s not going to go boom after all.”
He starts to get to his feet, gratefully accepting Rose and the Doctor’s help, and holds out his wrist so the Doctor can use his manipulator.
“Doctor,” Rose says, and there’s an odd note in her voice that makes him focus on her. “Why didn’t you feel Jack’s death this time?”
***
Concluded in chapter 5, First Love
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, and for superb science and hand-wavy sci-fi knowledge - of course, any remaining errors are mine. And, yes, it's morphed. Five chapters now, and the fifth is well under way.
Chapter 1: The Indifferent Stars l Chapter 2: In That Solitude l Chapter 3: Strange Place
Chapter 4: Nail the Boards
Aww, hell. Yes, it’s difficult to be around Jack, and not just because of the Captain being a fixed point, but he never intended this. Has he really made Jack feel that unwelcome?
Well... yes, he has, hasn’t he? It’s surprising that Rose hasn’t ripped him apart for it yet. Won’t be long before she does.
The only hope he has of retrieving the situation is to be honest with Jack. Well, maybe not about everything, but there are some things he can - should, actually - tell Jack. Things he deserves to know, and that should be said.
“I’m sorry, Jack. No, listen,” he adds quickly as the Captain starts to interrupt again. “You’ve got it wrong. And that’s my fault, not yours. None of this is your fault. And it’s not that I don’t want you here. I do want you. Course I do.”
“Yeah, right.” Jack’s tone is clipped and his fists are clenched, but he’s listening and making eye contact. Progress, at least.
“I do. It’s difficult, that’s all. You see-”
“You only went to get me because Rose insisted,” Jack cuts in. “And don’t say you didn’t. I don’t want your lies.”
How long has it been for Jack? Long enough to turn him into this bitter, angry man who bears little resemblance to the friend who died for him.
Steeling himself for the zing of what feels like electrical impulses shooting through every muscle in his body, he comes out from behind the console and walks towards Jack. “Yes, Rose asked me to - and, in the interests of full disclosure, I only told her today that you were alive, so don’t blame her for not making me come sooner. Before today, she knew the Daleks had killed you and I didn’t tell her anything different.” He rubs the back of his neck. “Hate me for that if you want. I wouldn’t blame you. But if I didn’t want you here I would have said no when she asked.”
Jack’s eyes widen at that, and then he nods. “Yeah. You’re enough of a bastard to do that - even when it’s her. So why am I here?”
He rocks on his heels. “Because you need to be here. Jack, you’re... something unique. There’s never been anything like you before in the universe, and it’s unlikely there ever will again. Do you know what you’ve become?”
Jack’s upper lip curls in a sneer. “What I’ve become? I’m a thing now, am I?”
“Jack, Jack, Jack...” He shakes his head. “I didn’t mean that. You know I didn’t.”
“Do I?” Jack’s eyes narrow. “I thought I knew the last you. I don’t know this you at all. How do I know you didn’t mean that?” Before the Doctor can interject, Jack raises a hand. “Okay. So I believe you. To answer your question, I’m immortal, right?”
This is going to be even harder than he imagined. What a mess this is. “Well, yes, but it’s how you’re immortal that I’m talking about. You’re a fixed point in time, Jack. Every other living thing in the universe is affected by time - even me. Time flows through us and we grow older. You, now... time can’t touch you. It comes up close, takes a good look, and then backs away from you.” What Jack is is wrong, of course, and shouldn’t exist - but he’s not going to say that. He might be rude in this regeneration, but even he knows there’s a line it’s best not to cross.
“And so?” Jack asks slowly.
“For one thing,” he explains, “I can feel you. It’s a Time Lord thing. You... well, you hurt. Even just looking at you, I can feel it.”
“You mean I hurt you? As in actual pain?” Jack’s eyes are wide, and it looks like he’s struggling between dismay and disbelief.
“Yep.” He extends one hand, palm down, and watches it tremble infinitesimally. “Feels a bit like an electric shock. Not bad enough to disable me, but it’s there all the same. The closer I get to you, the worse it gets.”
Jack takes several steps backwards. “Then I should leave.” It’s clear that he’s biting back more - anger or hurt he can’t be sure.
He shrugs. “I’ll get used to it. And you should be here. Not a good idea to have you wandering through Earth history anywhere you want. Who knows what could change as a result?”
Jack glares. Right. Put his foot in it again, didn’t he? But it had to be said.
“You don’t think I was being careful? Doctor, I’m not an idiot or a child. I’ve been a time-traveller. I know the dangers.”
He nods. Yes, Jack does - or at least he should. “And yet there you were, a private in training in the British infantry. What were you planning to do in 1914?” Jack doesn’t answer. “I thought so,” he continues, softening his voice, hoping that he’ll sound less as if he’s criticising instead of explaining. “If you took a bullet or a bayonet originally meant for someone else... Jack, one little change could be devastating.” As a thought strikes him, he asks, “How long has it been for you, anyway?”
“Forty-two years.” The words are clipped.
He rubs the back of his neck. “So much you already could have damaged. Yes, I know you’d try not to. You’re a sensible bloke and a time-traveller. But still.”
Jack’s expression turns bitter. “If that matters so much to you, you shouldn’t have left me behind. If you didn’t want me here - if it hurts you so damn much to be around me - all you had to do was dump me somewhere in the fifty-first century. Oh, and maybe told me what was going on. Might’ve helped, you know.”
It would have. Can’t argue with that. He shuffles his feet. “I know. I should have. Problem is, I’m a coward, Jack. It was just... well... easier to run. Shouldn’t have. I’m sorry. Easy to say, I know, but I do mean it.”
Jack doesn’t answer, and the Doctor has the sense that this is a make-or-break moment. If he says or does the wrong thing now, the Captain will leave. It takes his breath away to realise how little he wants that to happen.
Too many friends lost over the years - yes, that’s part of it. But not all of it.
Jack’s important enough to fight for.
He swallows, then straightens, shoulders back, and walks towards Jack. He doesn’t stop until there’s less than a foot of distance between them, and then he lays both hands on Jack’s shoulders. “Welcome home.”
***
This Doctor’s new to him. He hasn’t yet had an opportunity to learn the clues and cues that tell him when the Doctor’s being sincere and when he’s being disingenuous - but, however much he was sceptical about the Doctor’s serious intent earlier in this conversation, he’d swear that the man means every word of what he’s just said. Even if he knows damn well that he hasn’t even begun to get the full story about why the Doctor left him behind on Satellite Five.
Because of this... allergy the Doctor now has to him? Because he’s alive when he should have been dead, and the Doctor, the Lord of Time, didn’t like that? Because the Doctor wanted Rose all to himself? But... no. Whatever else, by the time they were kidnapped and brought to Satellite Five he knew the Doctor liked having him around.
He’s got every right to demand explanations, and he will, but for now he’s had a sincere apology and even a welcome home. It’s not enough, but it’s a start - and for the Doctor it’s probably a significant achievement. Plus, didn’t he say that being around Jack hurts him? Yet he’s come right over and is touching him. That’s got to count for something. Probably quite a lot, in fact.
“Guess I’m the last person who’d have any right to hold being a coward against you,” he says, the lump in his throat that’s appeared from nowhere turning his voice into a whisper.
The Doctor’s answering smile is lop-sided, and wry. “You were always a braver man than I am.”
His hands, hanging by his sides, curl and clench; he’s itching to hug the Doctor, despite his anger of a few minutes ago, but how can he? Even being this close to him has to be an ordeal for the Doctor. He can’t make it worse.
He steps back, gesturing the Doctor away carelessly. “Go on, Doctor, no point you putting up with unnecessary pain just because of me.”
The Doctor doesn’t move. He studies Jack, head slightly tilted, brows drawn together - and then, abruptly, his eyes widen. “No! No, it’s fine. Really. Well... I say that. It’s not as bad as it was. Really quite bearable, actually.”
“Don’t-” Lie to me, he starts to protest, but he doesn’t get to finish his sentence. The Doctor propels himself forward, and abruptly Jack finds himself enfolded in long, firm arms, held tightly against the Doctor’s much thinner frame.
Is the Doctor hugging him because he wants to, or because he feels guilty? Impossible to tell. So far, this Doctor seems far less transparent than in his last body. With the other Doctor, the brooding, amazing man in the leather jacket, Jack could always read what he was really thinking simply by watching his eyes. This version’s learned to hide better - or maybe it’s just that the last Doctor, the wounded survivor of the Time War, was the one who’d lost his skill at being enigmatic.
But whatever the Doctor’s motivation, Jack can’t help responding, especially when it’s something he wants so badly, this gesture of belonging. So he hugs back.
And then releases the Doctor abruptly and backs away once he feels the tension in the other man’s body, the pain he’s trying to hide.
“You weren’t kidding about it hurting you to be around me,” he says, almost gasping from the pain in his own gut. He can’t possibly stay now, and just as he was starting to believe that everything was going to be okay.
The Doctor tugs at his ear. “It is getting better, Jack. Told you. The longer I’m around you, the easier it gets.”
He wraps his arms around himself. “You shouldn’t have to get used to it. I should-”
“No.” Abruptly, the Doctor sounds every bit as forceful as the other version of him ever did. “No need for that, Jack. Rose wants you here. I want you here. Well, won’t force you to stay if you really don’t want to,” he adds, tone suddenly uncertain. “But I don’t think that’s true, is it?”
Jack doesn’t answer. Sure, none of this is his fault, but still, what right does he have to make the Doctor put up with the physical pain of being around him every day?
“Sleep on it,” the Doctor says, turning away and walking back to the console. “Things usually look better after a good night’s sleep. Or so I’ve heard.” He flashes Jack a quick smile. “Go on, then. Your room’s still in the same place, though you know that already, don’t you?”
Dismissed, Jack’s got no other option than to go to bed. Though he can’t deny that sleep sounds very appealing right now.
Back in his room, in his bed, he has the best night’s sleep he’s had in over forty years. Too bad it’s only going to be this one night.
***
The Doctor’s alone in the console room when she sneaks in early the next morning. Good. She was hoping to get him without Jack around.
“Cuppa?” she offers with a grin, walking over to him. As he takes it, with a surprised but happy smile, she pulls her other hand out from where it was hidden behind her back. “Toast?”
“Ooh! With marmalade?” She nods. “Brilliant! Toast with marmalade! I do love your English inventions. I mean, marmalade! Whoever decided that boiling oranges, rind and all, in water with tons of sugar was a good idea deserves some sort of award, don’t you think?”
“What, the Time Lord’s Marmalade Medal?” she teases, curling her tongue over her teeth.
He grins around the mouthful of toast he’s chewing. “Why not?” she thinks he says, his words somewhat indistinct because he’s eating.
Swallowing the last bite, he looks at her, his expression serious. “Am I forgiven, then?”
She meets his gaze. “Are you sorry?”
His eyes widen momentarily, acknowledging points to her. “I thought I was doing the right thing leaving Jack behind. Never thought about you missing him, or how he’d feel finding out about being immortal on his own.”
“Right.” She nods, relieved that he’s actually admitted that much. Yesterday, before her ultimatum, he was being so stubborn, so always-right Time Lord, that she was beginning to despair of anything like this. Now, though, he’s not only acknowledging that he was wrong, he’s also back to being the Doctor she was getting to know all over again - and love all over again. “So, are you sorry?”
His expression’s rueful. “Not going to let me get away with it, hmm? All right, then. Yes. I am.”
“Good.” She closes the distance between them and reaches for him.
He wraps his arms around her in return, tucking her head into the crook of his shoulder as he hugs her. “Didn’t want you to leave,” he murmurs, his mouth very close to her ear.
“Didn’t want to go,” she admits. Pulling back to look at him, she adds, “Should say that to Jack, though. That you’re sorry, I mean.”
His grin says that this time he’s got one up on her. “Already did. Last night,” he adds as she frowns at him, wondering when he could have had a chance to do that.
“Good.” On impulse, she seizes her courage in both hands and presses a kiss to his cheek, then releases him and steps back. He looks flustered, glancing down towards the floor and rubbing the back of his neck.
She’d make good her escape while she could - they’ve never been like that, him and her; oh, they hug a lot, and hold hands, but never so much as a kiss on the cheek before now, other than Cassandra, and they’ve never talked about that - but there’s something she has to ask him still. It’s only fair, since she pushed the issue about Jack.
“You all right, then?” she asks, the concern she feels obvious in her voice.
“Me?” He sounds genuinely surprised. “I’m always all right.”
Liar, she thinks, but doesn’t say it. “I mean with having Jack around. You said you can feel what he is. That it hurts you.”
“Oh.” He shrugs, rocking on his heels. “I’ll get used to it.”
“No, really, I mean it. You’re not gonna have to keep, like, fifty feet from each other all the time or something?”
There’s genuine amusement in his eyes as he answers her. “Shouldn’t have to do anything that drastic. It’s a bit like... oh, you know how nails on a blackboard makes you feel?”
She winces. “Hate that noise.”
“But it’s not just the noise, is it? Sets all your nerves on edge, yeah?”
“Yeah.” She nods. “So it’s sort of like that, then?”
“Yeah, just without the noise. When he’s in the room, and more when I look at him. But I mean it - I will get used to it. The more he’s around, the easier it gets, anyway.”
“I’m glad.” It is a relief. Of course she doesn’t want the Doctor in constant pain, and if that really was how he felt how could she possibly insist that he keeps Jack around?
And she wants Jack here. Oh, it’s not that she hasn’t liked the way things have been, just her and the Doctor, since he regenerated - just as she liked being with him in his first body. Well, the first body she knew, anyway. But once Jack joined them it got even better. All right, part of it’s just having another human around, especially when the Doctor goes off on one of his I’m a superior being rants, but it’s not just that. Adam just didn’t cut it - when he was on board, she had to spend most of her time soothing his bruised ego and trying to keep him away from the Doctor because she knew he drove the Doctor up the wall. Mickey was better when he was around, but it still wasn’t the same. Yes, it was partly the two of them behaving badly towards him, and she is ashamed of that, but Mickey could have stood up for himself more.
Or she could have bothered to take his side occasionally, she reminds herself caustically. It really is her fault that Mickey left.
But it was always different with Jack around. The three of them laughed, played, ran - into danger and out of it again - and saved each other’s lives over and over. Jack understood her when sometimes the Doctor didn’t, and he and the Doctor bonded over time-travel and mechanics, and all three of them cared about each other. Maybe even more.
Hard to believe, still, that the Doctor left Jack behind. But then, that was her fault too, wasn’t it?
At least this time she’ll be able to make up for it.
***
After the best sleep he’s had in decades, Jack’s up, showered and on his way to the kitchen in search of breakfast. Well, mostly in search of what he hopes will be a decent cup of coffee, if the TARDIS still remembers how he likes it.
The aroma of freshly-cooked toast greets him as he approaches the door, and his stomach rumbles. He’s obviously hungrier than he thought.
There is coffee too, he realises as he walks into the kitchen and smells the just-brewed carafe. “Rose, I could kiss you!” he announces as he almost breaks into a run. She remembered that he hated instant when he was travelling with them before, and she’s been thoughtful enough to make it ready for him now.
She grins, the same wide, cheeky smile he remembers. “You already did. So what’s stopping you now?”
Oh, he’s missed flirting with her! The difference is, of course, that all those years ago he’d never have dreamed of doing more than flirting back, as much as he wanted to. Now, though... “I did. And you liked it.” He allows a slow smile to curve over his lips as his gaze travels down her body, then up again.
Her cheeks flush pink. “Yeah, I did.”
He takes a step closer to her, then slides his palms along either side of her face, tilting it towards him. Then he lowers his head, slowly enough to give her time to pull away - but she doesn’t.
She tastes of tea and marmalade, and laughter and wonder and joy: everything he’s missed over the last forty-two years and that he was beginning to think he’d never know again. He meant this to be a brief kiss of thanks for caring, but now he’s finding it hard to let her go.
Rose doesn’t seem to mind. Her hands have found their way to his waist and she’s pulling him closer to her, parting her lips under his, sliding her tongue forward to taste his.
Until they both need to breathe, and he pulls back, resting his forehead against hers for a moment, trying to calm himself, to still the urge he has to lift her up onto the counter, pull her jeans off and bury himself inside her.
She leans her head back so she can look at him, and her eyes are alight.
“Thought you wanted coffee?” Oh, she knows how to tease, and he’ll get his revenge for that - later.
“It’ll keep.” He nudges her closer to the counter with his body, then hesitates as a thought strikes him. “Not treading on anyone’s toes, am I?”
She seems surprised at the question. “Nah. Broke up with Mickey ages ago - and he’s not around any more anyway.”
Not around? But that’ll keep. “Didn’t mean Mickey.”
“Oh!” She blushes again, so prettily that he wants to kiss her again. “He’s not interested. I’d think he just... doesn’t, not with humans, except...” Rose chews her lip, and her eyes reveal hurt.
“Not interested?” A shout of laughter escapes him. “Rose, have you seen the way he looks at you sometimes? Or the way he used to look at me any time I got too close to you? That is so not a man who’s not interested.”
“Really?” Oh, she’s got it bad. Sounds like she wants so badly to believe him, but just can’t let herself. “But he’s never even...” She shrugs. “Well, not with me. I know he snogged someone we met a while back. Might even have shagged her - I can’t be sure. But he’s never so much as hinted with me.”
“Doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to, though.” He releases her and steps back. “So, okay, I might be treading on someone’s toes, then.”
She catches his hand. “Not as far as I’m concerned.” He raises one eyebrow, silently asking if she’s sure. There’s no hesitation as she nods. “Thing is, I always... You were always special to me too, Jack. I know it’s... well, a bit weird. My mate Shareen’d say it’s kinky. But I felt the same way about both of you.”
He has to stifle the urge to laugh, reminding himself that she’s from three millennia before him. And, after all, he’s just had several decades to get used to more primitive cultural standards. “There’s nothing weird or kinky about that, Rose, trust me.” He strokes a finger down her cheek. “I’ve been in triad relationships before - three people,” he explains, as she frowns at the unfamiliar word. “Four as well, and even five briefly, though that starts getting confusing.”
She blinks, and he smiles reassuringly, squeezing her hand. “Three sounds good to me.” Not that it will to the Doctor, of course. Even if the guy was the type to share, or even if he were attracted to Jack in the first place, his... what, his allergy? - to what Jack is now would make that impossible.
“And, yeah, you were always special to me, as well. Still are.” He drops Rose’s hand. “Right now, I need coffee. Do you realise I haven’t had a decent cup of coffee in over forty years?”
***
Today, when they go out, it’s a lot better. The Doctor’s back to the smiling, bouncy bloke she’s got used to over the past few months, urging them to hurry up once they arrive in the console room because they’re just about to land.
He talks nineteen to the dozen as he runs towards the door, barely pausing as he swings his coat wide and shoves his arm in one sleeve - she’s just in time to grab the other and hold it for him - and he actually slings an arm around both their shoulders for a few moments to usher them in the direction he wants to go once they’re outside.
“Osciluron! In the Spido galaxy. D’you know it, Jack? Twin suns, four moons and a ring of gas around the equator. Not that you’d see it from here; we’re in the northern hemisphere, right around... ooh, where Norway is on Earth.”
“Never been,” Jack says, looking around and turning on one heel in a circle as he does. “Passed by the galaxy once, but I was in pursuit of an escaped prisoner at the time, so can’t say I had a lot of time for sightseeing.”
“Pity. Worth a visit,” the Doctor says, striding forward, hands shoved deep in his trouser pockets.
“What’s so special about this place, then?” Rose asks, running a little to catch up with him. He turns to smile at her as she reaches his side, instantly pulling his hand out of his pocket and waggling it at her. She curls her fingers around his.
“Quidditch!” he exclaims. She blinks, then stares at him. He grins. “Really! The Oscilurons are the only species in the universe who play quidditch.”
“What, flying around on broomsticks an’ all?” Is he having her on?
“Well... I say broomsticks. They’re more like rakes, really, but the principle’s the same. I’m telling you, when I read the first Potter book, I had to make sure old JK wasn’t an Osciluron in disguise. She’s not, by the way, but it’s still one heck of a coincidence, don’t you think? Anyway, if I’ve got the time right - and I’m always right - we should just be in time to get tickets for the final.”
“I dunno about that,” Jack says, now walking on the Doctor’s other side. “Looks like they might have other things on their mind at the moment.”
He gestures ahead of them, and Rose turns to look. He’s right. They’ve come around a bend in the pathway they’re following, and now in the distance she can see streams of people heading in their direction. They’re walking, or on carts, or riding on animals, and the one thing they all have in common is that they’re carrying things: bundles, bags, things of all shapes and sizes.
“You’re right, Jack,” the Doctor murmurs softly. “They’re not heading to a quidditch match.”
“Nope,” Jack says, and his tone’s grim. “They’re fleeing for their lives.”
***
Of course, they have to stay and find out what’s going on. They’re here, after all. And even if he had a momentary thought about sending Rose, at least, back to the TARDIS - after all, there’s not much harm Jack can come to now - he didn’t pursue it. She wouldn’t go, and he’d only waste time arguing with her about it.
It takes about fifteen minutes for them to meet up with the first lot of refugees. He gives them a friendly wave. “Hello! I’m the Doctor; this is Rose and Jack. We came for the quidditch, but it seems like we got the timing wrong, did we?”
“Been under a rock?” one woman retorts. She’s got one small child clinging to her neck, and another two at her skirts, and her face carries the worries of someone twice her age.
“Off-worlders,” he tries to explain; Oscilurons are humanoid as well. But she’s already hurrying past him.
“Antimatter reactor’s gone critical,” an older man explains. “They say it’s going to blow any day now. We’re all getting out while we can.”
The Doctor frowns. “Can’t they fix it?”
“Everyone who knows how to got killed in the first leak.” The man gives a helpless shrug. “Always said it was too dangerous, not that anyone’d listen.”
“How big’s the reactor?” There’s urgency in Jack’s voice.
He turns to the Captain. “Big enough to turn this entire planet into a wasteland.”
“Then we’ve got to fix it,” Jack says, as if there’s no other option. Well, there really isn’t. “Tell me how to find it.”
How has we become me? “It’s probably a couple of miles or so from here.” He turns to Rose, raking a hand through his hair. “Go back to the TARDIS. Please.”
“No. I might be able to help.” She starts walking - towards the city, and the reactor.
“Rose-”
“You’re wasting time,” she says without looking back.
He gives Jack a helpless look. Jack shrugs, then taps his wrist. “You know this thing works as a teleport?” He nods. “Well, it did,” Jack adds, pulling a face. “But if you can fix it, then if it looks like the thing’s about to blow you and Rose can teleport back to the TARDIS. As long as you get there in time to let yourself in, you’ll be fine.”
Rose turns around and glares at Jack. “An’ what about you?”
He shrugs again. “Can’t die. I’m guessing that applies to vaporisation by antimatter explosion?” he asks, still looking at the Doctor and raising an eyebrow.
“That’d be my guess,” he confirms. His stomach’s churning. Yes, Jack would survive it, but how agonising would be the death he’d die first? And if he died in an explosion leading to the destruction of the planet, how would they even find him again?
The irony of that strikes him, given that up until Rose’s ultimatum the previous day he was happy to run as far from Jack as he could. Now it seems like that’s the last thing he wants.
Jack, still holding his gaze, gives one brief nod. Oh, yes, he knows what he’s letting himself in for, all right. “Come on. Like Rose said, we’re wasting time.”
***
In the end, it’s a lot easier than Jack imagined. Yes, the reactor’s going critical, with alarms and lights going off all over the place, but the fault’s pretty obvious, shown on the control-panel of the central computer. The only reason no-one was able to fix it is that the room the fault’s in is flooded with antimatter radiation - too powerful even for the protective suits the engineers had. The closed-circuit cameras show bodies, and the remains of bodies, littering the centre core of the reactor.
Jack, of course, can go anywhere he wants without any danger to himself. He wasn’t sure at first whether that would be the case, or whether he’d die every few minutes from radiation poisoning and have to revive and start again. But it seems that he’s immune; a quick test in one of the contaminated rooms tells him that.
“You know what you’re doing?” the Doctor asks, his voice tense, as Jack prepares to go in and do his repair-job.
“Course I do.” He grins, more to reassure them than himself. “Might not be a Time Lord, but I know basic particle physics, and I’m a dab hand with a screwdriver.”
“Sonic one?” The Doctor holds out a hand, and the sonic screwdriver’s in it.
He takes it, very surprised. “Thanks. I’ll be fine,” he adds. “Looks like this can’t kill me, so I should be back out in half an hour or so, maybe less.” He takes his Vortex manipulator off and hands it to the Doctor. “Just in case. Get yourselves safe if you have to.”
The Doctor actually looks as if he’s about to protest, but in the end just takes the manipulator and nods. “If that happens, Jack, we’ll find you. I promise.”
For a moment, he’s frozen to the spot. The Doctor can’t even tell him why he left him behind on Satellite Five, yet now he’s promising this?
He’s got no idea how to respond to that, so he doesn’t even try. He sketches a careless salute. “See you in hell.”
Rose runs at him and hugs him quickly before he can leave, and the Doctor comes close, pressing a hand on his shoulder. Then he’s gone, running down the corridors to the machine room where the flashing light indicated the fault.
Fixing it really does turn out to be embarrassingly easy. His own skills, together with the Doctor’s advice over the headset he’s wearing - and of course the Doctor can see him on the camera system - help him to remove the failed part and replace it in just over twenty minutes. A few more minutes is all it takes to switch on the flushing systems to vent the excess radiation out; with the technology here, this reactor will be usable again in perhaps a couple of years. And then he’s on his way back out, job done.
There’s even a decontamination chamber conveniently situated just beside the exit. A few minutes in there and - if the displays are accurate - he’s clean. No particles stuck in his clothes or hair or anywhere on his skin.
All the same, he doesn’t want to take any chances. “I’m coming out of the chamber,” he tells the Doctor. “Maybe you should pass through my wristcomp before I’m out of here, so I can scan myself just in case.”
But, when he leaves the chamber, the exit door is wide open, and the Doctor stands there, Vortex manipulator in his hand, the flap open. “See?” he says, tone triumphant. “I’m scanning you. Not a beep in sight. Scan yourself with the screwdriver. You’ll get the same answer.”
“I believe you,” he says, handing the screwdriver back and accepting his manipulator in return.
The Doctor pats him on the back. “Nice job.”
The three of them are still grinning as they exit the facility. Okay, the reactor’s going to be out of commission for a long time yet, and they’ve still got to try to get the message to the Oscilurons that their planet’s safe. But it is a job well done. There won’t be any antimatter explosion today.
“Oi! Get away from there!”
The shout comes from somewhere to the east of them, towards the city centre. Jack whirls around in search of the source. Three people - two men and a woman - in what looks like military uniform are running towards them, weapons ready.
“It’s all right!” the Doctor shouts back, waving a hand. “We just fixed your reactor.”
One of the soldiers aims his rifle straight at the Doctor. Jack doesn’t think twice; he steps in front of the Doctor and takes the bullet. A fierce, agonising pain spreads through him as it hits him in the chest, but at least the guy’s a good shot. Oblivion follows quickly afterwards.
When he wakes, the first thing he notices is that his T-shirt’s soaked. Blood, of course; he pulls a face as he glances down at the now-mostly-crimson blue T-shirt he put on this morning. Damn. He liked that one.
The second thing he notices is that he’s reclining against a warm body. Rose’s, he realises quickly, from the hair brushing his face and the soft curves pressed against his shoulder. The Doctor’s crouched beside him, concern on his face. “Welcome back, Jack,” he says, his voice low. “Think we should make a quick exit, if you’re up to it. Would’ve used your manipulator, but I thought it was more important to try to convince them the planet’s not going to go boom after all.”
He starts to get to his feet, gratefully accepting Rose and the Doctor’s help, and holds out his wrist so the Doctor can use his manipulator.
“Doctor,” Rose says, and there’s an odd note in her voice that makes him focus on her. “Why didn’t you feel Jack’s death this time?”
***
Concluded in chapter 5, First Love