Weaving 6/11?
Story: Weaving
Author: wmr
wendymr
Sequel to: Broken Threads (Series: Tapestry)
Characters: Tenth Doctor, Jack Harkness, Rose Tyler; Team Torchwood and other characters in minor roles
Rated: PG13
Disclaimer: None of them are mine, and that's a good thing ;)
Spoilers: DW: S3 and VotD; TW: pretty much all of S2, though this is completely AU.
Summary: She's back, and it should be just as it was before, the three of them... but can you ever really go back?
As before, my thanks to
dark_aegis and
kae_nine for BRing and reassurance. This is a sequel to Broken Threads, as noted, and might not make a lot of sense without it.
Chapter 1: Transmission Complete l Chapter 2: Minefields l Chapter 3: Papering Over Cracks l Chapter 4: Secrets and Lies l Chapter 5: Mystery
Chapter 6: Plans and Schemes
Whatever about the Doctor saying he won’t be pushed, things are a lot better than before. The Doctor’s openly affectionate with Rose; back to the way he used to be, Jack guesses. When they visit new places, or when they’re chilling out inside the TARDIS, the two of them hug, hold hands and laugh together seemingly without hesitation. There are three-way hugs and horseplay and teasing and, other than the fact that he and the Doctor still go to one bedroom every night and Rose to another, things might be as close to perfect as they could get.
Though, of course, even thinking that is probably a bad omen. Better not.
They go star-gazing on Delta.X.VI, right at the heart of a galaxy that sees more stars born than anywhere else in the universe. They go mountain-climbing in the Himalayas - well, the Doctor cheats and lands the TARDIS on a plateau very close to the top of Mount Everest and shoos them outside, suitably dressed in very, very warm clothes, to walk the few yards necessary to get to the summit. The TARDIS protects them from oxygen starvation, and as they run back inside the time-ship half an hour later they’re all three joking about having claimed the mountain for Team TARDIS.
They shop for machine parts at a trading station, and on another day decide to visit forty-fifth century Europe, to show Rose how continental drift and shifting political relationships have changed the shape of the land-mass she knows.
Except the Doctor gets his piloting a little wrong, and instead they land near Split on the Adriatic coast in 5026, on the day an experimental power-plant went critical, resulting in over a thousand deaths and many thousands of people permanently disabled.
The Doctor’s face turns pale; Jack follows his gaze and sees the teal-coloured building with the glass roof, a spiral of orangey-rust smoke coming from the top. “Oh, shit. That’s the Trovokric plant, yeah?”
That’s a day he’ll never forget. That disaster happened in his own time, in his early years as a Time Agent. He was out on a mission at the time, but he got the emergency holo-broadcast all the same. All agents in the region were ordered to get to safety or, if there was any chance they were contaminated, ordered to stay where they were or teleport to a decontamination centre. Other agents were on standby for relief operations, but the powers that be decided it wasn’t an effective use of Time Agent resources. Dozens of agents - himself included - almost quit that day.
“What’s up?” Rose is staring at the power plant now. “That smoke - it’s gonna explode, yeah?”
“Yep.” Hands deep in his pockets, feet apart, the Doctor’s just looking at the plant, his eyes wide and expression bleak. He’s feeling just as sick himself.
“Right.” Rose moves to stand beside the Doctor. “An’ it’s already part of history, right? So there’s nothing we can do?”
“Yep. Eleven hundred and twelve people die today. Only a few of them will be killed by the explosion. The rest die from inhaling poisonous fumes, or from third- and fourth-degree burns. Another ten thousand or more die over the next ten years from side-effects. And then another twenty-seven thousand and fifty will have a living death, disfigured, disabled, chronically sick or suffering memory loss. It’s the worst man-made disaster in over two centuries, and it could all have been so easily avoided if the company hadn’t decided to put off a plant upgrade for safety reasons.”
The Doctor’s voice is toneless, but he’s almost shaking with anger and impotence. Though those bald figures don’t do anything to describe the horror and pain and trauma the survivors experienced. Those who died were the lucky ones.
“Like Chernobyl, just not quite as bad,” Rose says, her gaze still fixed on the plant and the smoke spiralling upwards. Then she turns, looking at the Doctor. “I wish we could help, too.” Her hand finds his. “But we can’t, yeah? Not even a little bit?”
The Doctor shakes his head. “There’s nothing. It’s history - a fact. We can’t stay here.”
Watching Rose, Jack expects her to protest, to demand that they do something. And, yes, a lot of him’s there with her. This day’s engraved on his memory, along with regret that he did nothing to help, either then or later. After all, the aftermath was a living hell for hundreds of thousands of people, including those who weren’t themselves physically damaged as a result.
But, while theoretically there might be something they could do to prevent the explosion, what would happen to history if they did? They can’t. It’s that simple.
“Come on.” Rose tugs on the Doctor’s hand. “Like you said, we can’t stay.”
Silently, they walk back to the TARDIS, and once the door’s shut the Doctor goes straight to the console, without a word. Rose immediately goes to stand next to him. “Can we go forward? I dunno, a week, a month, whatever’s safe? I’d like to go to one of the hospitals treating the victims.”
The Doctor turns to look at her, his eyes bleak. “It’s too dangerous. The whole atmosphere is contaminated - will be for decades. You could contract cancer or emphysema or... or all sorts of things.”
“Yeah.” Rose leans against the Doctor’s shoulder, her gesture offering comfort. “I just want us to do something, that’s all. Doesn’t matter how small. Just something to help, that won’t change history.”
Grim-faced, the Doctor just presses controls. Rose persists, all the same. “There’s still something like the International Red Cross, right? Can’t we, I dunno, help them unload supplies or something? Wouldn’t be much, but it’d be something.”
It would - and it would allow all of them to feel just a bit less impotent, that bit less like they just turned their backs on tragedy. Not that he’s not done that before, and he knows very well the Doctor’s had to, but it doesn’t get any easier.
He’s racking his brain trying to think of something, somewhere they could help anonymously, a minor part of the relief or recovery effort without doing anything like saving someone who should have died, when a long-forgotten memory returns. “Actually,” he says slowly, “I think I know what. I think I know how we did help.”
The Doctor raises his head, his expression puzzled, though there’s also understanding and sympathy in his eyes. Ah, so he does know that Jack’s lived through the Trovokric explosion before. “What do you mean?”
“I just remembered. It was years ago. Another Time Agent, someone I trained with, sent me a message a couple of weeks after the explosion, asking me to thank my friend for helping him get out. I didn’t have a clue what he was talking about. He said he was stuck in Visiko the day of the explosion - that’s a tiny town north of Sarajevo - and he saw me helping to load victims with chemical burns into evac copters. He recognised me because I was about the only person there not wearing a Hazmat suit.”
Jack shakes his head. “It never made any sense to me. Okay, I kind of figured that maybe it was something I did in the future, but if I wasn’t suited up how come I didn’t get contaminated? I finally figured, after I lost those two years of memories, that it must have happened then. He said I wasn’t alone, either - his teleport was out of commission and a guy with me fixed it so he could get away.”
“The sonic screwdriver,” Rose comments, her eyes wide. “Has to be us, Doctor.”
The Doctor nods. “Has to be.” His hands move purposefully over the console again. “Can’t argue with history.” A smile breaks over his face. “Something tells me that if you two go to the wardrobe you might find a couple of Hazmat suits.”
***
The Hazmat suits are there, all right, and in Visiko it goes exactly as Jack said. The three of them melt into the crowd of emergency workers, helping to reassure badly-burned victims and get them shipped out to hospitals all over the continent standing by to treat them - or, Jack comments quietly as they work, to help them die less painfully.
Until Jack remembered what his former colleague had told him, she hadn’t realised that this is Jack’s time: that this disaster happened in his lifetime. Like September 11 or the South Pacific tsunami in her living memory. And there she’d been concentrating her sympathy on the Doctor.
They’ve been there about four hours when Jack nudges the Doctor and nods towards a man in a protective suit that’s torn in several places. He’s got insignia on his back that she recognises from Jack’s wrist computer - or Vortex manipulator, as she now knows it’s called. That has to be his agent friend.
Jack doesn’t acknowledge him; his face expressionless, he just carries on with his work, tirelessly carrying one end of stretcher after stretcher until his back’s got to be aching. They’re close enough, though, to hear a conversation the agent’s having with one of the relief co-ordinators.
“...shouldn’t be here. Not with your suit in that condition.”
“Can’t go anywhere. My teleport’s shot. Might as well help while I can.”
“If the toxic fumes don’t get you, the chemicals will. And I can’t justify putting you on one of those choppers while we’ve got civilians in need.”
“It’s fine. Soon as the suit ripped, I knew I was a goner. Just let me help - it’s better than sitting around waiting to die.”
The Doctor’s already walked over. “If you could get out of here, would you know where to go for treatment?”
The agent shrugs. “HQ’s got a facility. Not much point, though-”
As she watches, the Doctor produces his screwdriver and zaps the agent’s teleport. “You’ll find it’s working now,” he says lightly, then comes back to rejoin her and Jack. Seconds later, after giving the Doctor’s back an incredulous stare, the agent disappears.
“Paradox averted,” Jack murmurs, and gives her a faint smile.
***
Rose was right. It’s not much, but it’s something. A few victims helped on their way to hospitals, people who would have got there anyway - there were plenty of relief workers - but it feels a little less like they walked away and did nothing. As for Jack’s agent friend, well... yes, that was interfering, but since he already knows it wasn’t changing history it’s all right.
The old team’s definitely back in full commission, and it feels good.
Even if he does have to lose Rose again - either soon, if she has to go back to the other universe, or at some point because she dies - he’s got her now, her and Jack both, and it’s just brilliant.
Back in the TARDIS, as soon as they’ve closed the door behind them Rose goes straight to Jack and wraps her arms around him. Ah, so she did see what Jack was doing his best to hide.
Jack always did love Rose. What he’s been overlooking is that she always loved the Captain too.
Dematerialising can wait. Leaving the console, he walks back to join them. “Room for one more?”
Immediately, they welcome him into their embrace, and they hold each other tightly as they each, he knows, try to deal with what they’ve just seen: people, human beings, horribly scarred, maimed, gasping for breath. For him and Jack, it’s not anything they haven’t seen before, though that doesn’t make it any less shocking. For Rose, it has to be the first time she’s seen something that terrible - and then he corrects himself, because of course he’s got no idea what sort of things she’s dealt with in the other universe.
There’s dampness on his cheek, and he’s got no idea whose tears they are, but it could be any one of them, just as the fingers stroking the back of his neck could be either Jack or Rose.
When Jack pulls back after a while and kisses first Rose and then him, chastely and tenderly, he can’t think of anything more appropriate than to reciprocate. He returns Jack’s kiss, then lowers his lips to Rose’s in a sweet, affectionate touch, the first kiss between them when she’s not been possessed, either by the TARDIS or a bitchy trampoline.
Drawing back, he brushes a hand over each of their heads, trying to ignore the look of surprise on Rose’s face, then leaves them to return to the console. Time to leave.
***
When he kisses her again, equally lightly but accompanied by a bear-hug, as she’s going to bed it’s obvious that they really have stopped treading on egg-shells around each other. He’s happy that she’s back - and, yes, he told her that a week or so ago, but she had to wonder if he really meant it - and it’s feeling, to her, as if they’re back to their old, close, inseparable friendship.
There’s only one thing casting a shadow over her life now - and it’s not the fact that Jack’s got with the Doctor what she dreamed of having all through the three years she was away. She’s genuinely happy for the two of them, and more so now that she knows that Jack’s immortal. He needs someone - well, they both do - who’s going to be around for them for a very long time.
And that’s the problem, when it comes right down to it. She won’t be.
She’s human, mortal, with a normal human life-span. At best, she could live to eighty, ninety or thereabouts. Given the life they lead on the TARDIS, she could die any day - though if they think she hasn’t noticed the way they step in front of her any time they happen to run into people pointing weapons at them, they must think she’s blind.
One thing she can’t do is talk to the Doctor about it. That’s a conversation he’d do anything possible to avoid, though she also knows him too well not to know that it’ll be on his mind too, and not in a good way.
That’s why, too, despite her promise she still hasn’t told him the real reason she came back, apart from missing him more than she ever knew she could miss anyone. Because he’d feel responsible - he decided she’d be safe in the other universe in the first place, after all, and she knows now that he didn’t try to get her back after losing her. He’d feel obliged to let her stay with him well beyond a time when good sense - and his own inclinations - dictated that she shouldn’t be here any more.
So, Jack. She finds him, the next morning, bench-pressing in the gym. Perfect. The Doctor won’t disturb them here; he maintains that running’s the only exercise anyone needs and he simply doesn’t understand why Jack wants to waste good travelling time putting his body through torture.
He holds himself up on extended arms as she comes nearer. “Hi, Rose.”
“Jack.” She drops to the floor, sitting cross-legged. “I need to talk to you alone. That all right?”
“Sure. You don’t even have to ask.” He drops down, rolls over and then mirrors her position. “What’s up?” And, she can read in his gaze, why can’t she talk to the Doctor about it?
“I need to make arrangements, and I can’t do it alone.”
She can see it in his eyes; what now? Oh, of course she knows what Jack’s been up to, acting as mediator, buffer and bridge-builder between her and the Doctor over the first week or so she was back. He’s relaxed that role in the last couple of weeks, and she’s seen his relief that he hasn’t needed to do it any more - and also his frustration that he had to do it in the first place.
She’s suspected a couple of times, too, that it’s been about more than just helping her and the Doctor to re-establish their friendship. Knowing Jack, of course, that’s exactly what he’s up to; it made perfect sense when she woke up to find herself in bed with the two of them, not just Jack. But, while she won’t deny that the idea... thrills her in a way she could never have imagined before coming back to realise that Jack and the Doctor are lovers, she’s not naïve enough to imagine the Doctor’d ever contemplate it.
He huffs out a breath, his expression wary. “What sort of arrangements?”
“A retirement plan.”
“Retirement?” Jack’s jaw slackens. For once, he doesn’t look quite so handsome, and she almost giggles. “Rose, you’re - what? Twenty-five? What the hell are you talking about retirement for?”
“I said retirement plan, Jack. Look, think about it,” she says, her voice entirely calm, giving him a look that says this is important. “You’re immortal. Doesn’t look like you’re gonna age either, or if you are it’ll be way too slowly for me to notice. The Doctor doesn’t age, or maybe it’s just very slow for him, too. Yeah, he can die, but he regenerates. If I’m killed, I’m dead.”
“Rose-” Jack moves closer to her, reaching out at the same time to capture her hand.
“It’s all right,” she tells him immediately. “I always knew dying young was a possibility as long as I was with the Doctor. That never bothered me. Didn’t bother me working for Torchwood either. It’s a risk you take, and the life’s worth the risk. No, what worries me is if I don’t die.”
Jack’s face tells her that he still doesn’t understand, but he’s listening. “Go on.”
“Think about this, Jack. Twenty years’ time, what am I gonna be like? Thirty years? Am I gonna be able to keep up with you two? We do an awful lot of running, remember. What about forty years’ time? Fifty? Can you see me knockin’ around the TARDIS using a Zimmer frame?”
Or being sick and frail and having to be taken care of, nursed, by the two of them. Being a millstone around their necks that they felt they had no choice but to look after.
The penny’s dropped. There’s realisation in his eyes, and his hand’s tightened on hers. “Rose, there are things we can do. In the future, in the time I come from, there are all sorts of medical advances. Bionics, cybernetics, all kinds of things-”
“I’m not gonna get an artificial body just so’s I can stay with the two of you. Jack, there was this woman the Doctor and I met - we met her twice, actually. She couldn’t accept the idea of getting old, an’ when we met her first she was planning her seven hundred and ninth operation. I don’t think there was anything left of her that was real. She was a stretched piece of skin on a rack. I’m never gonna be like that, Jack.”
“You don’t have to-”
“I’m serious.” She leans across and presses her lips to his. “Thanks. I-” She has to swallow briefly. “I love it that you care. But I’m being realistic here, all right? I can’t stay here for ever. I once promised the Doctor I would, but I was a kid then. I wasn’t thinking properly - an’ I certainly wasn’t thinking about what he said to me once. Or I just heard what I wanted to hear.”
He moves again, so that they’re sitting next to each other, and wraps his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into him. “Go on.”
“It was after we met an ex-companion of his. Sarah-Jane. He just left her behind, an’ I asked him why. He said we - humans - wither and die, and that he has to live on. I asked if he was gonna leave me behind too, and he said he wouldn’t. Then he said I could stay with him for the rest of my life, but he couldn’t stay with me for the rest of his.” She shakes her head. “Like the stupid kid I was, I thought he was asking me to stay. He was tellin’ me the difference between us, and how cruel that is to him.”
Jack mutters something under his breath, then says, “How about cruel to you? You’re the one stuck getting old and frail while he - we - get to stay the way we are. And, yeah, I won’t deny it hurts to lose people I love. I’m a hundred and seventy-five years old, Rose. I’ve seen lots of friends - lovers, too - get old and die on me. It doesn’t get any easier. It’s hard for them too, and he should know that. Besides,” he adds, an edge to his voice, “if he loves you, why should you getting old change that?”
She lays her head on Jack’s shoulder. “I don’t think it’s that he stops loving people. I think it’s that loving them gets too painful.”
“He’s always been a coward when it comes to emotions,” Jack says, and there’s wry amusement in his voice. “You shouldn’t let him get away with it, Rose.”
“What am I supposed to do, then? Seriously,” she tells him, an edge to her voice. “I’m not gonna trail along behind you two because I can’t keep up any more, or stay behind in the TARDIS while you’re off having adventures, an’ maybe even getting hurt while I’m not there to help you. So I need a plan. Thing is, Jack, all I’ve got is what I stood up in when I arrived and what the TARDIS’s given me since I got back. Mind you, not that I’d have a lot more if I could get back everything that Mum and I owned. That wasn’t a lot. I think I probably had about a hundred quid in the bank - don’t forget, the Doctor blew up my job.”
“Yeah, he does that.” Jack rubs his cheek gently against hers.
“I’m dead in this universe, too. So I can’t just appear as Rose Tyler again, not without some kind of story to explain where I’ve been over the last couple of years. That’s why I need your help. I need an identity, and I need some ideas to earn money - or a job for when I leave here.”
“Right.” Jack pulls back a little so he can see her, and his gaze intent on her is almost disconcerting. “But I wanna know what the hell makes you think you’d have to be on your own? I can’t speak for the Doctor, but I can speak for me, and if you imagine I’d just wave goodbye whenever you decide it’s time to leave... well, just so you know, that’s not happening.”
He moves his arm from around her shoulders, and his hands grip her, not allowing her to move. “I don’t just care about you, Rose. In case you didn’t get it the other week, I love you. Yeah, I love him too, but you said it: he and I are gonna be around a very long time. If there does come a point when you can’t do this any more and you need to settle somewhere, then I’m going with you.”
Oh, Jack. Always the big damn hero, even after everything she’s done to him. And now the bloody git’s making her cry again.
She raises a hand to caress his face. “Love you too. Always did.”
His smile is warm and teasing. “I know. Bringing me back to life was a pretty big clue.” He leans in towards her, and the intent in his gaze is clear. He’s giving her plenty of time to pull away, but right now she couldn’t move even if a Cyberman was heading towards her.
Jack might have kissed her before - in fact, he’s kissed her virtually every day since she came back - but the way he’s looking at her makes clear that this kiss will be very different.
It is. The second his lips touch hers, it’s like something’s been ignited. Heat flares between them as he demands and gets a response from her. She clings to him, kissing him back as she’s never kissed anyone before. Not anyone. He’s devouring her, his lips and tongue exploring her as if he can never get enough. And she can’t either. More, all she wants is more, as his hands rove over her upper body and she presses herself against him, his muscles hard and firm against her breasts, her stomach, her hips.
Fingers trail over her breast, there’s a moan she’s vaguely aware is her, and the fluttering in her stomach’s getting stronger. God, she wants... wants...
He pushes a bit too hard and she tumbles, falling backwards onto the hard gym floor. The kiss breaks, and he’s looking at her, concern and rueful apology in his gaze. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” Her voice is breathy; he’s practically left her speechless. “Fine. Just... we could’ve chosen somewhere a bit more comfortable, yeah?”
“Yeah.” He leans down and presses another kiss to her lips, this one far more chaste. “Rose...” His eyes are troubled suddenly.
She understands. He’s the Doctor’s. “Yeah. I know. We can’t.”
His fingers trail over her face. “We could. But it wouldn’t be fair.”
“I know.” She raises her hand to press her palm against his cheek. “You can’t be unfaithful to him. He’d be hurt.”
The surprise on Jack’s face catches her off-guard. “He’d be hurt, yeah, but not over me. You.”
“Huh?” Now she’s completely lost.
“Rose.” Jack shakes his head. “God, sometimes I just want to bang your heads together, you know that? He wants you. He’s always wanted you. I can’t make love to you behind his back - that’s what wouldn’t be fair.”
What? “You’re crazy, you know that, Jack Harkness? Even if he does want me - an’ I doubt that, cause he had plenty of chances and never took them - I’d say the fact that he didn’t take them means I owe him nothing.” She reaches up to kiss him again, but it’s a kiss of letting go. “Always swore I’d never be the sort of person who went after someone else’s bloke, though.”
Jack waggles his eyebrows. “Like I keep telling him, I’m all for sharing.” He pulls her to her feet. “One of these days, he’ll see it my way.”
She goes warm inside again at the thought. Sharing the Doctor with Jack? Sharing Jack with the Doctor? Having both of them, and does he mean together? Not that it’s going to happen, so there’s no point getting excited about it, but still...
“Stop it,” she tells him, but without a great deal of conviction. “Anyway, we got sidetracked. I still need a plan, Jack. An’, before you start, here’s three good reasons why. One, I’m not just gonna live off you. No way. Two, I won’t make you choose between him an’ me. An’ three, he needs you more than I do. You know that. What’s he like alone, eh? A mess, right?”
***
A mess. She’s got it in one. After all, that’s why the Doctor came to him in Torchwood a couple of months ago in the first place, isn’t it?
Though she’s talking years from now. The Doctor’s getting better. Healing more, as the War moves further into the past and the wounds from losing Rose, losing the Master, losing the people on that ship fade. Rose is back now, anyway. Who knows, by the time she has to leave the Doctor’ll have found himself someone new to travel with, someone who fascinates him just as much as Rose did in the beginning, as Martha did, as everyone new he meets and who grabs his attention does.
Or, maybe, he’ll actually get some sense and come with the two of them, put aside his itchy feet and live on the slow path for a decade or so, for Rose’s sake.
Still, that’s not what Rose wants to hear right now. She’s making contingency plans, and he really can’t blame her. After his own previous experiences with the Doctor, of course he can’t.
He grins. “Could just do the old time-traveller trick.”
“What’s that?”
“We get the Doctor to take us back to 1985. I stake you a thousand bucks to buy shares in Microsoft’s initial public offering, then we come back to 2009 and sell them. With all the dividends and share restructuring in the meantime, you’d be a millionaire.”
She blinks, then laughs. “Come on, that’s cheating.”
“Yeah? Lots of time-travellers do it.” Jack shrugs, giving her a rueful grin. “Did it myself once, when I needed some cash as a stake for a con. The trick is never to buy too many, so it doesn’t look like a suspicious transaction, or you don’t get listed by the company as a major shareholder. And don’t go too far into the future to sell them, because then you’d have to prove identity, inheritance rights, stuff like that.”
They could do it; it’d be the easy way to give her a financial cushion. As for a job, he can find her one with the snap of his fingers, even thirty years from now; Torchwood will still be there, and he’ll still be a name to reckon with. “Don’t worry about ID either,” he adds. “I’ll call my people at Torchwood. Ianto and Tosh will sort out everything you need, including a documented life history. You just need to decide what name you want. Can’t have Rose Tyler, but you could be Rose...” He pauses and grins again. “Smith? Harkness?”
She smacks him. “You want to be careful. Serve you right if I took you up on that.”
He catches her hand and tugs her towards the door. “Come on. If we’re here any longer, the Doctor’ll come looking for us.”
Definitely time to end this conversation, before he finds himself telling Rose she can take him up on it if she wants, and he really does find himself torn between the two of them.
***
tbc
Author: wmr
wendymr
Sequel to: Broken Threads (Series: Tapestry)
Characters: Tenth Doctor, Jack Harkness, Rose Tyler; Team Torchwood and other characters in minor roles
Rated: PG13
Disclaimer: None of them are mine, and that's a good thing ;)
Spoilers: DW: S3 and VotD; TW: pretty much all of S2, though this is completely AU.
Summary: She's back, and it should be just as it was before, the three of them... but can you ever really go back?
As before, my thanks to
dark_aegis and
kae_nine for BRing and reassurance. This is a sequel to Broken Threads, as noted, and might not make a lot of sense without it.
Chapter 1: Transmission Complete l Chapter 2: Minefields l Chapter 3: Papering Over Cracks l Chapter 4: Secrets and Lies l Chapter 5: Mystery
Chapter 6: Plans and Schemes
Whatever about the Doctor saying he won’t be pushed, things are a lot better than before. The Doctor’s openly affectionate with Rose; back to the way he used to be, Jack guesses. When they visit new places, or when they’re chilling out inside the TARDIS, the two of them hug, hold hands and laugh together seemingly without hesitation. There are three-way hugs and horseplay and teasing and, other than the fact that he and the Doctor still go to one bedroom every night and Rose to another, things might be as close to perfect as they could get.
Though, of course, even thinking that is probably a bad omen. Better not.
They go star-gazing on Delta.X.VI, right at the heart of a galaxy that sees more stars born than anywhere else in the universe. They go mountain-climbing in the Himalayas - well, the Doctor cheats and lands the TARDIS on a plateau very close to the top of Mount Everest and shoos them outside, suitably dressed in very, very warm clothes, to walk the few yards necessary to get to the summit. The TARDIS protects them from oxygen starvation, and as they run back inside the time-ship half an hour later they’re all three joking about having claimed the mountain for Team TARDIS.
They shop for machine parts at a trading station, and on another day decide to visit forty-fifth century Europe, to show Rose how continental drift and shifting political relationships have changed the shape of the land-mass she knows.
Except the Doctor gets his piloting a little wrong, and instead they land near Split on the Adriatic coast in 5026, on the day an experimental power-plant went critical, resulting in over a thousand deaths and many thousands of people permanently disabled.
The Doctor’s face turns pale; Jack follows his gaze and sees the teal-coloured building with the glass roof, a spiral of orangey-rust smoke coming from the top. “Oh, shit. That’s the Trovokric plant, yeah?”
That’s a day he’ll never forget. That disaster happened in his own time, in his early years as a Time Agent. He was out on a mission at the time, but he got the emergency holo-broadcast all the same. All agents in the region were ordered to get to safety or, if there was any chance they were contaminated, ordered to stay where they were or teleport to a decontamination centre. Other agents were on standby for relief operations, but the powers that be decided it wasn’t an effective use of Time Agent resources. Dozens of agents - himself included - almost quit that day.
“What’s up?” Rose is staring at the power plant now. “That smoke - it’s gonna explode, yeah?”
“Yep.” Hands deep in his pockets, feet apart, the Doctor’s just looking at the plant, his eyes wide and expression bleak. He’s feeling just as sick himself.
“Right.” Rose moves to stand beside the Doctor. “An’ it’s already part of history, right? So there’s nothing we can do?”
“Yep. Eleven hundred and twelve people die today. Only a few of them will be killed by the explosion. The rest die from inhaling poisonous fumes, or from third- and fourth-degree burns. Another ten thousand or more die over the next ten years from side-effects. And then another twenty-seven thousand and fifty will have a living death, disfigured, disabled, chronically sick or suffering memory loss. It’s the worst man-made disaster in over two centuries, and it could all have been so easily avoided if the company hadn’t decided to put off a plant upgrade for safety reasons.”
The Doctor’s voice is toneless, but he’s almost shaking with anger and impotence. Though those bald figures don’t do anything to describe the horror and pain and trauma the survivors experienced. Those who died were the lucky ones.
“Like Chernobyl, just not quite as bad,” Rose says, her gaze still fixed on the plant and the smoke spiralling upwards. Then she turns, looking at the Doctor. “I wish we could help, too.” Her hand finds his. “But we can’t, yeah? Not even a little bit?”
The Doctor shakes his head. “There’s nothing. It’s history - a fact. We can’t stay here.”
Watching Rose, Jack expects her to protest, to demand that they do something. And, yes, a lot of him’s there with her. This day’s engraved on his memory, along with regret that he did nothing to help, either then or later. After all, the aftermath was a living hell for hundreds of thousands of people, including those who weren’t themselves physically damaged as a result.
But, while theoretically there might be something they could do to prevent the explosion, what would happen to history if they did? They can’t. It’s that simple.
“Come on.” Rose tugs on the Doctor’s hand. “Like you said, we can’t stay.”
Silently, they walk back to the TARDIS, and once the door’s shut the Doctor goes straight to the console, without a word. Rose immediately goes to stand next to him. “Can we go forward? I dunno, a week, a month, whatever’s safe? I’d like to go to one of the hospitals treating the victims.”
The Doctor turns to look at her, his eyes bleak. “It’s too dangerous. The whole atmosphere is contaminated - will be for decades. You could contract cancer or emphysema or... or all sorts of things.”
“Yeah.” Rose leans against the Doctor’s shoulder, her gesture offering comfort. “I just want us to do something, that’s all. Doesn’t matter how small. Just something to help, that won’t change history.”
Grim-faced, the Doctor just presses controls. Rose persists, all the same. “There’s still something like the International Red Cross, right? Can’t we, I dunno, help them unload supplies or something? Wouldn’t be much, but it’d be something.”
It would - and it would allow all of them to feel just a bit less impotent, that bit less like they just turned their backs on tragedy. Not that he’s not done that before, and he knows very well the Doctor’s had to, but it doesn’t get any easier.
He’s racking his brain trying to think of something, somewhere they could help anonymously, a minor part of the relief or recovery effort without doing anything like saving someone who should have died, when a long-forgotten memory returns. “Actually,” he says slowly, “I think I know what. I think I know how we did help.”
The Doctor raises his head, his expression puzzled, though there’s also understanding and sympathy in his eyes. Ah, so he does know that Jack’s lived through the Trovokric explosion before. “What do you mean?”
“I just remembered. It was years ago. Another Time Agent, someone I trained with, sent me a message a couple of weeks after the explosion, asking me to thank my friend for helping him get out. I didn’t have a clue what he was talking about. He said he was stuck in Visiko the day of the explosion - that’s a tiny town north of Sarajevo - and he saw me helping to load victims with chemical burns into evac copters. He recognised me because I was about the only person there not wearing a Hazmat suit.”
Jack shakes his head. “It never made any sense to me. Okay, I kind of figured that maybe it was something I did in the future, but if I wasn’t suited up how come I didn’t get contaminated? I finally figured, after I lost those two years of memories, that it must have happened then. He said I wasn’t alone, either - his teleport was out of commission and a guy with me fixed it so he could get away.”
“The sonic screwdriver,” Rose comments, her eyes wide. “Has to be us, Doctor.”
The Doctor nods. “Has to be.” His hands move purposefully over the console again. “Can’t argue with history.” A smile breaks over his face. “Something tells me that if you two go to the wardrobe you might find a couple of Hazmat suits.”
***
The Hazmat suits are there, all right, and in Visiko it goes exactly as Jack said. The three of them melt into the crowd of emergency workers, helping to reassure badly-burned victims and get them shipped out to hospitals all over the continent standing by to treat them - or, Jack comments quietly as they work, to help them die less painfully.
Until Jack remembered what his former colleague had told him, she hadn’t realised that this is Jack’s time: that this disaster happened in his lifetime. Like September 11 or the South Pacific tsunami in her living memory. And there she’d been concentrating her sympathy on the Doctor.
They’ve been there about four hours when Jack nudges the Doctor and nods towards a man in a protective suit that’s torn in several places. He’s got insignia on his back that she recognises from Jack’s wrist computer - or Vortex manipulator, as she now knows it’s called. That has to be his agent friend.
Jack doesn’t acknowledge him; his face expressionless, he just carries on with his work, tirelessly carrying one end of stretcher after stretcher until his back’s got to be aching. They’re close enough, though, to hear a conversation the agent’s having with one of the relief co-ordinators.
“...shouldn’t be here. Not with your suit in that condition.”
“Can’t go anywhere. My teleport’s shot. Might as well help while I can.”
“If the toxic fumes don’t get you, the chemicals will. And I can’t justify putting you on one of those choppers while we’ve got civilians in need.”
“It’s fine. Soon as the suit ripped, I knew I was a goner. Just let me help - it’s better than sitting around waiting to die.”
The Doctor’s already walked over. “If you could get out of here, would you know where to go for treatment?”
The agent shrugs. “HQ’s got a facility. Not much point, though-”
As she watches, the Doctor produces his screwdriver and zaps the agent’s teleport. “You’ll find it’s working now,” he says lightly, then comes back to rejoin her and Jack. Seconds later, after giving the Doctor’s back an incredulous stare, the agent disappears.
“Paradox averted,” Jack murmurs, and gives her a faint smile.
***
Rose was right. It’s not much, but it’s something. A few victims helped on their way to hospitals, people who would have got there anyway - there were plenty of relief workers - but it feels a little less like they walked away and did nothing. As for Jack’s agent friend, well... yes, that was interfering, but since he already knows it wasn’t changing history it’s all right.
The old team’s definitely back in full commission, and it feels good.
Even if he does have to lose Rose again - either soon, if she has to go back to the other universe, or at some point because she dies - he’s got her now, her and Jack both, and it’s just brilliant.
Back in the TARDIS, as soon as they’ve closed the door behind them Rose goes straight to Jack and wraps her arms around him. Ah, so she did see what Jack was doing his best to hide.
Jack always did love Rose. What he’s been overlooking is that she always loved the Captain too.
Dematerialising can wait. Leaving the console, he walks back to join them. “Room for one more?”
Immediately, they welcome him into their embrace, and they hold each other tightly as they each, he knows, try to deal with what they’ve just seen: people, human beings, horribly scarred, maimed, gasping for breath. For him and Jack, it’s not anything they haven’t seen before, though that doesn’t make it any less shocking. For Rose, it has to be the first time she’s seen something that terrible - and then he corrects himself, because of course he’s got no idea what sort of things she’s dealt with in the other universe.
There’s dampness on his cheek, and he’s got no idea whose tears they are, but it could be any one of them, just as the fingers stroking the back of his neck could be either Jack or Rose.
When Jack pulls back after a while and kisses first Rose and then him, chastely and tenderly, he can’t think of anything more appropriate than to reciprocate. He returns Jack’s kiss, then lowers his lips to Rose’s in a sweet, affectionate touch, the first kiss between them when she’s not been possessed, either by the TARDIS or a bitchy trampoline.
Drawing back, he brushes a hand over each of their heads, trying to ignore the look of surprise on Rose’s face, then leaves them to return to the console. Time to leave.
***
When he kisses her again, equally lightly but accompanied by a bear-hug, as she’s going to bed it’s obvious that they really have stopped treading on egg-shells around each other. He’s happy that she’s back - and, yes, he told her that a week or so ago, but she had to wonder if he really meant it - and it’s feeling, to her, as if they’re back to their old, close, inseparable friendship.
There’s only one thing casting a shadow over her life now - and it’s not the fact that Jack’s got with the Doctor what she dreamed of having all through the three years she was away. She’s genuinely happy for the two of them, and more so now that she knows that Jack’s immortal. He needs someone - well, they both do - who’s going to be around for them for a very long time.
And that’s the problem, when it comes right down to it. She won’t be.
She’s human, mortal, with a normal human life-span. At best, she could live to eighty, ninety or thereabouts. Given the life they lead on the TARDIS, she could die any day - though if they think she hasn’t noticed the way they step in front of her any time they happen to run into people pointing weapons at them, they must think she’s blind.
One thing she can’t do is talk to the Doctor about it. That’s a conversation he’d do anything possible to avoid, though she also knows him too well not to know that it’ll be on his mind too, and not in a good way.
That’s why, too, despite her promise she still hasn’t told him the real reason she came back, apart from missing him more than she ever knew she could miss anyone. Because he’d feel responsible - he decided she’d be safe in the other universe in the first place, after all, and she knows now that he didn’t try to get her back after losing her. He’d feel obliged to let her stay with him well beyond a time when good sense - and his own inclinations - dictated that she shouldn’t be here any more.
So, Jack. She finds him, the next morning, bench-pressing in the gym. Perfect. The Doctor won’t disturb them here; he maintains that running’s the only exercise anyone needs and he simply doesn’t understand why Jack wants to waste good travelling time putting his body through torture.
He holds himself up on extended arms as she comes nearer. “Hi, Rose.”
“Jack.” She drops to the floor, sitting cross-legged. “I need to talk to you alone. That all right?”
“Sure. You don’t even have to ask.” He drops down, rolls over and then mirrors her position. “What’s up?” And, she can read in his gaze, why can’t she talk to the Doctor about it?
“I need to make arrangements, and I can’t do it alone.”
She can see it in his eyes; what now? Oh, of course she knows what Jack’s been up to, acting as mediator, buffer and bridge-builder between her and the Doctor over the first week or so she was back. He’s relaxed that role in the last couple of weeks, and she’s seen his relief that he hasn’t needed to do it any more - and also his frustration that he had to do it in the first place.
She’s suspected a couple of times, too, that it’s been about more than just helping her and the Doctor to re-establish their friendship. Knowing Jack, of course, that’s exactly what he’s up to; it made perfect sense when she woke up to find herself in bed with the two of them, not just Jack. But, while she won’t deny that the idea... thrills her in a way she could never have imagined before coming back to realise that Jack and the Doctor are lovers, she’s not naïve enough to imagine the Doctor’d ever contemplate it.
He huffs out a breath, his expression wary. “What sort of arrangements?”
“A retirement plan.”
“Retirement?” Jack’s jaw slackens. For once, he doesn’t look quite so handsome, and she almost giggles. “Rose, you’re - what? Twenty-five? What the hell are you talking about retirement for?”
“I said retirement plan, Jack. Look, think about it,” she says, her voice entirely calm, giving him a look that says this is important. “You’re immortal. Doesn’t look like you’re gonna age either, or if you are it’ll be way too slowly for me to notice. The Doctor doesn’t age, or maybe it’s just very slow for him, too. Yeah, he can die, but he regenerates. If I’m killed, I’m dead.”
“Rose-” Jack moves closer to her, reaching out at the same time to capture her hand.
“It’s all right,” she tells him immediately. “I always knew dying young was a possibility as long as I was with the Doctor. That never bothered me. Didn’t bother me working for Torchwood either. It’s a risk you take, and the life’s worth the risk. No, what worries me is if I don’t die.”
Jack’s face tells her that he still doesn’t understand, but he’s listening. “Go on.”
“Think about this, Jack. Twenty years’ time, what am I gonna be like? Thirty years? Am I gonna be able to keep up with you two? We do an awful lot of running, remember. What about forty years’ time? Fifty? Can you see me knockin’ around the TARDIS using a Zimmer frame?”
Or being sick and frail and having to be taken care of, nursed, by the two of them. Being a millstone around their necks that they felt they had no choice but to look after.
The penny’s dropped. There’s realisation in his eyes, and his hand’s tightened on hers. “Rose, there are things we can do. In the future, in the time I come from, there are all sorts of medical advances. Bionics, cybernetics, all kinds of things-”
“I’m not gonna get an artificial body just so’s I can stay with the two of you. Jack, there was this woman the Doctor and I met - we met her twice, actually. She couldn’t accept the idea of getting old, an’ when we met her first she was planning her seven hundred and ninth operation. I don’t think there was anything left of her that was real. She was a stretched piece of skin on a rack. I’m never gonna be like that, Jack.”
“You don’t have to-”
“I’m serious.” She leans across and presses her lips to his. “Thanks. I-” She has to swallow briefly. “I love it that you care. But I’m being realistic here, all right? I can’t stay here for ever. I once promised the Doctor I would, but I was a kid then. I wasn’t thinking properly - an’ I certainly wasn’t thinking about what he said to me once. Or I just heard what I wanted to hear.”
He moves again, so that they’re sitting next to each other, and wraps his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into him. “Go on.”
“It was after we met an ex-companion of his. Sarah-Jane. He just left her behind, an’ I asked him why. He said we - humans - wither and die, and that he has to live on. I asked if he was gonna leave me behind too, and he said he wouldn’t. Then he said I could stay with him for the rest of my life, but he couldn’t stay with me for the rest of his.” She shakes her head. “Like the stupid kid I was, I thought he was asking me to stay. He was tellin’ me the difference between us, and how cruel that is to him.”
Jack mutters something under his breath, then says, “How about cruel to you? You’re the one stuck getting old and frail while he - we - get to stay the way we are. And, yeah, I won’t deny it hurts to lose people I love. I’m a hundred and seventy-five years old, Rose. I’ve seen lots of friends - lovers, too - get old and die on me. It doesn’t get any easier. It’s hard for them too, and he should know that. Besides,” he adds, an edge to his voice, “if he loves you, why should you getting old change that?”
She lays her head on Jack’s shoulder. “I don’t think it’s that he stops loving people. I think it’s that loving them gets too painful.”
“He’s always been a coward when it comes to emotions,” Jack says, and there’s wry amusement in his voice. “You shouldn’t let him get away with it, Rose.”
“What am I supposed to do, then? Seriously,” she tells him, an edge to her voice. “I’m not gonna trail along behind you two because I can’t keep up any more, or stay behind in the TARDIS while you’re off having adventures, an’ maybe even getting hurt while I’m not there to help you. So I need a plan. Thing is, Jack, all I’ve got is what I stood up in when I arrived and what the TARDIS’s given me since I got back. Mind you, not that I’d have a lot more if I could get back everything that Mum and I owned. That wasn’t a lot. I think I probably had about a hundred quid in the bank - don’t forget, the Doctor blew up my job.”
“Yeah, he does that.” Jack rubs his cheek gently against hers.
“I’m dead in this universe, too. So I can’t just appear as Rose Tyler again, not without some kind of story to explain where I’ve been over the last couple of years. That’s why I need your help. I need an identity, and I need some ideas to earn money - or a job for when I leave here.”
“Right.” Jack pulls back a little so he can see her, and his gaze intent on her is almost disconcerting. “But I wanna know what the hell makes you think you’d have to be on your own? I can’t speak for the Doctor, but I can speak for me, and if you imagine I’d just wave goodbye whenever you decide it’s time to leave... well, just so you know, that’s not happening.”
He moves his arm from around her shoulders, and his hands grip her, not allowing her to move. “I don’t just care about you, Rose. In case you didn’t get it the other week, I love you. Yeah, I love him too, but you said it: he and I are gonna be around a very long time. If there does come a point when you can’t do this any more and you need to settle somewhere, then I’m going with you.”
Oh, Jack. Always the big damn hero, even after everything she’s done to him. And now the bloody git’s making her cry again.
She raises a hand to caress his face. “Love you too. Always did.”
His smile is warm and teasing. “I know. Bringing me back to life was a pretty big clue.” He leans in towards her, and the intent in his gaze is clear. He’s giving her plenty of time to pull away, but right now she couldn’t move even if a Cyberman was heading towards her.
Jack might have kissed her before - in fact, he’s kissed her virtually every day since she came back - but the way he’s looking at her makes clear that this kiss will be very different.
It is. The second his lips touch hers, it’s like something’s been ignited. Heat flares between them as he demands and gets a response from her. She clings to him, kissing him back as she’s never kissed anyone before. Not anyone. He’s devouring her, his lips and tongue exploring her as if he can never get enough. And she can’t either. More, all she wants is more, as his hands rove over her upper body and she presses herself against him, his muscles hard and firm against her breasts, her stomach, her hips.
Fingers trail over her breast, there’s a moan she’s vaguely aware is her, and the fluttering in her stomach’s getting stronger. God, she wants... wants...
He pushes a bit too hard and she tumbles, falling backwards onto the hard gym floor. The kiss breaks, and he’s looking at her, concern and rueful apology in his gaze. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” Her voice is breathy; he’s practically left her speechless. “Fine. Just... we could’ve chosen somewhere a bit more comfortable, yeah?”
“Yeah.” He leans down and presses another kiss to her lips, this one far more chaste. “Rose...” His eyes are troubled suddenly.
She understands. He’s the Doctor’s. “Yeah. I know. We can’t.”
His fingers trail over her face. “We could. But it wouldn’t be fair.”
“I know.” She raises her hand to press her palm against his cheek. “You can’t be unfaithful to him. He’d be hurt.”
The surprise on Jack’s face catches her off-guard. “He’d be hurt, yeah, but not over me. You.”
“Huh?” Now she’s completely lost.
“Rose.” Jack shakes his head. “God, sometimes I just want to bang your heads together, you know that? He wants you. He’s always wanted you. I can’t make love to you behind his back - that’s what wouldn’t be fair.”
What? “You’re crazy, you know that, Jack Harkness? Even if he does want me - an’ I doubt that, cause he had plenty of chances and never took them - I’d say the fact that he didn’t take them means I owe him nothing.” She reaches up to kiss him again, but it’s a kiss of letting go. “Always swore I’d never be the sort of person who went after someone else’s bloke, though.”
Jack waggles his eyebrows. “Like I keep telling him, I’m all for sharing.” He pulls her to her feet. “One of these days, he’ll see it my way.”
She goes warm inside again at the thought. Sharing the Doctor with Jack? Sharing Jack with the Doctor? Having both of them, and does he mean together? Not that it’s going to happen, so there’s no point getting excited about it, but still...
“Stop it,” she tells him, but without a great deal of conviction. “Anyway, we got sidetracked. I still need a plan, Jack. An’, before you start, here’s three good reasons why. One, I’m not just gonna live off you. No way. Two, I won’t make you choose between him an’ me. An’ three, he needs you more than I do. You know that. What’s he like alone, eh? A mess, right?”
***
A mess. She’s got it in one. After all, that’s why the Doctor came to him in Torchwood a couple of months ago in the first place, isn’t it?
Though she’s talking years from now. The Doctor’s getting better. Healing more, as the War moves further into the past and the wounds from losing Rose, losing the Master, losing the people on that ship fade. Rose is back now, anyway. Who knows, by the time she has to leave the Doctor’ll have found himself someone new to travel with, someone who fascinates him just as much as Rose did in the beginning, as Martha did, as everyone new he meets and who grabs his attention does.
Or, maybe, he’ll actually get some sense and come with the two of them, put aside his itchy feet and live on the slow path for a decade or so, for Rose’s sake.
Still, that’s not what Rose wants to hear right now. She’s making contingency plans, and he really can’t blame her. After his own previous experiences with the Doctor, of course he can’t.
He grins. “Could just do the old time-traveller trick.”
“What’s that?”
“We get the Doctor to take us back to 1985. I stake you a thousand bucks to buy shares in Microsoft’s initial public offering, then we come back to 2009 and sell them. With all the dividends and share restructuring in the meantime, you’d be a millionaire.”
She blinks, then laughs. “Come on, that’s cheating.”
“Yeah? Lots of time-travellers do it.” Jack shrugs, giving her a rueful grin. “Did it myself once, when I needed some cash as a stake for a con. The trick is never to buy too many, so it doesn’t look like a suspicious transaction, or you don’t get listed by the company as a major shareholder. And don’t go too far into the future to sell them, because then you’d have to prove identity, inheritance rights, stuff like that.”
They could do it; it’d be the easy way to give her a financial cushion. As for a job, he can find her one with the snap of his fingers, even thirty years from now; Torchwood will still be there, and he’ll still be a name to reckon with. “Don’t worry about ID either,” he adds. “I’ll call my people at Torchwood. Ianto and Tosh will sort out everything you need, including a documented life history. You just need to decide what name you want. Can’t have Rose Tyler, but you could be Rose...” He pauses and grins again. “Smith? Harkness?”
She smacks him. “You want to be careful. Serve you right if I took you up on that.”
He catches her hand and tugs her towards the door. “Come on. If we’re here any longer, the Doctor’ll come looking for us.”
Definitely time to end this conversation, before he finds himself telling Rose she can take him up on it if she wants, and he really does find himself torn between the two of them.
***
tbc