Yamx: Defences (3/4) (Jack/Nine) [PG-13]
Jack sits up, panting heavily. Can’t remember where he is. Can’t remember what he dreamed, either. Something woke him - what was it…? The TARDIS turns up the lights - just enough for him to look around. He’s in his room. He’s safe. The Doctor’s sitting in a chair by his bedside-
What? He blinks, assuming he’s not fully awake yet, but the Doctor’s dark form is still there, solid, leaning towards him with concern in his eyes, quietly repeating his name over and over again.
Oh, right. That was what woke him up, now that he thinks about it. The fog in his head is beginning to clear.
The Doctor looks at him searchingly. “You with me, lad?”
He nods. “Yeah, thanks. It was nothing. Just bad dreams.” He glances at his wrist comp. Half past three p.m. He’s slept over four hours.
The Doctor nod and sits back in the chair. “Tell me ‘bout the dreams.”
He shakes his head. “Nah, it’s not important.” He tries a blinding smile, but can tell the Doctor sees right through it.
“Told you you’d have to do one more thing for me. This is it. Tell me about the nightmares.”
Damn. He said - well, thought - he’d do anything, but he really wishes the Doctor had asked him to perform some more maintenance work. Or do the laundry. Hell, he’d rather be told to stand in the corner like a naughty schoolboy than talk about this.
The Doctor’s silent, waiting patiently.
Jack knows that the Doctor is not asking out of idle curiosity. He wants to help him. Jack can refuse to answer the question, of course - it’s not like the Doctor can actually force him to answer. Well, could - probably. Would - never. But refusing to answer now, under these circumstances, would be like saying that he doesn’t trust the Time Lord. And the Doctor has been incredibly open with him earlier today, when he had more than enough reason to not talk to him at all. Jack can’t refuse him now, not without feeling both selfish and like a coward. And he can see in his lover’s eyes that the Doctor knows that, too.
He gives a wry grin. “Well and truly trapped, eh?”
The Doctor grins back. “Psychology.” There’s a twinkle in his eyes.
Oh well. Nothing for it.
“Right.” He sits cross-legged on the bed and gathers his thoughts. “I have to go way back for this, okay?”
The Doctor nods. “Got plenty of time.”
“I was born on Boeshane. I don’t know if you know it…?”
“Yeah. Earth colony, Thiary system.”
He nods. “We lived on the Peninsula. Tiny little place, but had been the site of the first settlements, so it had a certain reputation - good soil, clean water… Seat of the colonial government, such as it was, and the planetary defence system.”
The Doctor frowns. “The invasion?”
Jack nods.
“How old were you?”
“Thirteen.”
The frown deepens.
“I… I lost my whole family that day.” Please, don’t let the Doctor ask for details. Don’t force him to explain how his brother’s death was his fault, and how he lost his father to the bombs and his mother to the failure she could never forgive him for.
The Doctor’s eyes shine with empathy. “I’m sorry, Jack.”
Before he can ask for details, Jack presses on. “That’s when the nightmares first started. But… well, pretty normal under the circumstances, right? Didn’t think much of it.”
The Doctor nods, listening intently.
“Not too long after, I joined the Agency. Lied about my age. Was no one left who could have made a fuss about it.” Or no one who cared enough to. “The other survivors from the Peninsula were proud, actually. Said I was a beacon of hope.” He scoffs.
There’s something searching in the Doctor’s gaze. The Time Lord knows he’s leaving things out. But he’s not pushing, and Jack is grateful.
“I loved the Academy. Really did. And I was good. Star pupil.” He grins rakishly, but can see it’s not fooling the Doctor. “Field training was even better. And once they gave me my badge and sent me out on missions, I was in heaven.”
The Doctor raises an eyebrow.
“Yeah, all right. Not all was well. I still had the nightmares, for one thing. But - the Agency has pills for that. Pop a few, dreamless sleep. Works like a charm.”
The Doctor’s face darkens. “Suppressants. Don’t help anything, just grind the pain in deeper.”
“Anyway, things were mostly great for a while. But - well, it’s a dangerous life. Some missions went wrong. Some agents lost…” He shrugs. “Part of the lifestyle.”
The Doctor’s not fooled. “Doesn’t make it hurt any less.”
Well, the idea was to be honest, right? He nods. “True. The nightmares… they started branching out, kind of. Weren’t just about the Peninsula anymore.”
“You dreamt about your other losses, too.”
“Yeah. They sent me in for psych eval, but the counselor said it was just normal stress reaction. Gave me some more pills and sent me on my way.”
The Doctor’s frown has deepened to a level that would scare Jack if he thought it was directed at him.
“Anyway, things didn’t get really bad until that day… the day I woke up with…” He gestures to his forehead vaguely.
“Your memories missing?”
“Not even sure if it was them, exactly. I mean, that day I didn’t just lose two years of my life - I lost my career, my home, and all my friends. Knew I would when I quit, of course, but…” He shrugs.
The Doctor nods in understanding.
“Then I became a conman. Guess that means I lost my self-respect. The night after my first con - self-cleaner, went off beautifully, without a hitch - I had the first nightmare that wasn’t a memory.”
The Doctor frowns - Jack is not sure if at the mention of the con or his explanation of the nightmare. “What do you mean?”
“Well, before, my dreams had always been about stuff that really happened, you know? The Peninsula, missions gone wrong, waking up not knowing when I was. But then I started having dreams about things that hadn’t happened. First I though they might be...”
“From those two years?”
“Yeah. But some of the dreams were about losing things I manifestly still had.”
“Like what?”
God, he doesn’t want to answer this. Doesn’t want to talk about those dreams. “I… Can we please skip this question?”
The Doctor nods. “For now.”
“Anyway, it’s got better since I’ve been on the TARDIS. I don’t have them as often anymore.”
“How often?”
He looks away. “Well…”
“Jack.” He can tell from the Doctor’s tone that they won’t be skipping this question.
He looks up. “Three or four times a week. Maybe five.”
The Doctor takes a deep breath. “So what you’re saying is, most nights?”
“But not every night. Which is progress.” He tries a carefree smile.
The Doctor shakes his head sadly. “Wish you’d told me.”
“Didn’t want to bother you. They’re just dreams.” He shakes his head and shrugs. “It’s silly.”
The Doctor gets up and steps over to the bed. With a little hand gesture and an inclination of his head, he silently asks permission to sit. Jack eagerly scoots over, and the Doctor sits down next to him, leaning against the headboard. Slowly, giving Jack plenty of time to back away if he wants, he reaches out. Jack readily leans into him, pressing up against the reassuringly solid form, and buries his face in the crook of the Doctor’s neck.
“Finally.” His voice is not trembling. Not in the least.
The Doctor drops a kiss on his hair. “Wasn’t sure you’d want me to. Was hard on you today.”
“I deserved it.”
The Doctor hugs him close. “Jack - those nightmares matter. And they’re not silly, yeah?”
Jack really doesn’t care right now. He just wants to be held right here, like this, forever. He shrugs.
“Problem is, there’s not a whole lot I can do about them. No quick fix. Well, there is, but it’s no good. Could give you pills, but really, they only make it worse.”
Jack nods against the Doctor’s shoulder. He does feel a little disappointed, if he’s honest. He’d hoped the Doctor would have a cure.
“There’s another thing I could do. Better than the pills. If you’ll let me.”
He looks up questioningly.
“Could go into your mind again. Give you dreamless sleep.”
“Sounds great,” he says without hesitation.
The Doctor smiles, and Jack understands that he wasn’t sure if he’d let him in like that again. Silly.
“Can’t do that all the time, though. Here and there to give you a peaceful night, yeah. But the nightmares… It’s like a pressure valve. If I close it off too often, the pressure’ll build and-”
“My head will explode?” He grins.
The Doctor chuckles. “Not literally. But it could do some serious damage.”
He nods in understanding. “There’s something else you could do.”
“Yeah?”
“Well… I…” Right, he’s going to sound like a six-year-old now. That’s fine. After last night and today, he doesn’t care. “I only have the nightmares when I’m alone.”
The Doctor hesitates. “Well-”
“I know you can’t stay with me all night, every night. You’d be bored to death. I get that. Just maybe, you know - every once in a while? If you don’t mind?” Damn, that ended up sounding even more childish than he’d expected. Three-year-old. Four at best.
“‘Course I will.”
“But I don’t want to keep you from doing other things-”
“Spend a lot of time in the library reading, or working on quantum-temporal equations. Can do that here just as easily - you don’t mind some low lights?”
“I can sleep in bright daylight. Agency training.”
“Right. And on the nights when I don’t stay, I could check in on you, yeah? Make sure you’re okay?” He suddenly looks up at the ceiling and cocks his head in concentration. “TARDIS says she can keep an eye on you if you want, alert me if you start tossing and turning.”
“She can do that?” Seeing the Doctor’s raised eyebrow, and hearing a slightly discordant shift in the ship’s background hum, he backpedals. “Of course she can.” He gently strokes the wall above the headboard. “Thank you.” The hum settles into a deep purring sound.
“Long term, though, there’s only one thing that’ll really help.”
“What’s that?”
The Doctor sighs. “Have to talk about it. Really talk. All the bits you left out just now.”
Jack looks away.
“Yeah, I know it’s hard. An’ it’s pretty ironic, me advocating talking ‘bout the difficult stuff. Hate to admit it, but it works.”
He’s still not looking up. There are things he can’t tell the Time Lord. Ever.
The Doctor gently tips up his chin and kisses his forehead. Jack’s seen him do this a million times with Rose, but he’s never been on the receiving end himself. It feels nice - comforting, protected. “No pressure, right? Won’t make you talk. Just - keep in mind that you should, and that I’ll listen when you’re ready. Well-” His face splits into the manic grin Jack loves so much. “Unless I’m busy being a stubborn git at the time, but then you just box me ‘round the ears, yeah?”
He grins. “Big enough target.”
“Oi!” The Doctor cuffs his neck affectionately, then draws him in for a proper kiss. It’s loving, and tender, and Jack wishes it could go on forever. Everything’s all right again. Everything’s-
A memory washes over him like a bucket of iced water. He breaks the kiss and pulls back, shoulders hunched. “There’s one more thing.”
“Yeah?” The Doctor’s eyes are a mixture of confusion and concern.
“When… when the other you was here. When you told me it might be centuries before you regenerate in our timeline. I saw the way you looked at each other. You were lying, right?”
The Doctor flinches. “No. Not quite lying. But…” His voice trails off. He looks at Jack searchingly.
“Please. I need to know.”
“Right. Well, not all timelines are the same, yeah? ‘S hard to explain, but it’s like some are… heavier than others, sort of. Can drag them down, shape them.”
He nods. He’s never heard anything about this at the Academy, but knows better by now then to doubt the Doctor. He still winces when he thinks about his first night on board, the time he tried to lecture the Time Lord about spatial-temporal sciences.
“Time Lord, me, yeah? Last one, at that. That makes my timeline pretty darn heavy. And regeneration - that’s a really big event. Heavy shift.”
“So if regeneration happened to him at a particular point in his timeline, that means it’ll happen like that in all the timelines?” He gulps. He’s going to lose the Doctor. His Doctor, at any rate.
“Nah. Not necessarily. There’s some variation, even for me. Thing is, regeneration happens at approximately the same point for me in-” He hesitates, frowning in concentration. “-probably ninety-five percent of my timelines.”
Jack grasps the Doctor’s arm tightly. “You’re saying there’s a ninety-five percent chance you’ll die in the next few years?”
“Don’t know that. Could be a freak timeline, this. More importantly, he could have been from a freak timeline. Might be there’s a ninety-five percent chance I won’t.” His cheerful smile would be reassuring if it wasn’t so forced.
“Can we find out?”
“No. Not until it happens. Or doesn’t happen.”
Jack slumps against the Doctor’s shoulder. “Oh.”
“Which leaves us exactly where we were before. We none of us know when we’re going to die. Better this way.” He strokes a thumb over Jack’s collar-bone tenderly.
Jack nods and tries to relax his tense muscles. What will be, will be - isn’t there an old Earth song to that effect? Anyway, best not to think about it. If there’s one thing you learn as a Time Agent, it’s that trying to predict anyone’s personal future will drive you mad. Sometimes literally. He pulls himself together and makes a conscious effort to shake of the gloominess. He plays with his jeans buttons and grins up at the Time Lord. “We’ve got some time before tea. Wanna make the most of it?”
The Doctor’s eyes are dark and serious. “Jack - there’s one more thing.”
He sobers. “Yeah?”
“If it happens - if I regenerate - give me a chance, yeah? That bloke you met last night - he really is me, for all that he is a pretty boy with a motor-mouth.”
Jack doesn’t hesitate. Of course he’d give that Doctor a chance. It seems another version of him already has, and things worked out for them. He playfully kisses the Doctor’s cheek. “Well, might be worth it - could be nice to have a version of you around who’ll actually admit I look good shirtless.”
The Doctor laughs and firmly grabs the front of Jack's jeans with both hands. He makes sure to put pressure in all the right places as he starts popping the buttons. “Prefer you trouserless, me.”
Jack grins and rolls his hips to help the Doctor slide down his jeans - and to shamelessly grind against places that he knows will get the Doctor out of his own clothes soon, too. He hates fighting with the Time Lord, but the make-up sex is always spectacular.
*****
Later, as they are enjoying the afterglow, and trying to drag up the energy to go to the kitchen - they’ll have to hurry if they want to be in time for tea, and it’s the Doctor’s turn to make the sandwiches - Jack asks, shyly, if he’s still allowed to work on the TARDIS.
“Made you work on her today, didn’t I?” The Doctor grins.
“That’s different. I mean - sensitive stuff?”
The Doctor looks at him sharply for moment, then he nods. “But not without clearing it with me first, understood?”
He nods at once. He’s learned his lesson. Well, two, actually. Firstly, the TARDIS is not just one hell of a ship - she’s one hell of a lady. And secondly, her soul is the Doctor’s, and no one comes between her and her Time Lord. “Of course not. Won’t touch her unless you’re there.”
The Doctor shakes his head. “Didn’t say that. Said you have to ask.”
Jack raises his head from the Doctor’s shoulder and looks up at him. “Okay, just to be clear - I can still work on her without supervision, long as it’s per your instructions?”
The Doctor grins. “Wouldn’t say without supervision.” He reaches up to stroke the wall above his head. “Just without mine.” He chuckles. “And don’t come crying to me when she zaps you. That’s between her and you, and I’ll probably just assume you deserved it.”
Jack grins and puts his hand next to the Doctor’s on the TARDIS wall. “Oh well. There are worse fates in life than being slapped by a beautiful lady.”
The spark hits his backside apparently out of nowhere. He startles, then he cracks up. He doesn’t have to be a telepath to know this was playful. “I’ll be good, gorgeous. I swear.”
He hears the low rumble of the Doctor’s chuckle, and feels blood rushing back to body parts he’d thought exhausted for the moment.
The Doctor notices and grins, but shakes his head. “Absolutely not. Rose’ll be putting the kettle on soon.”
*****
In the end, they are quite a bit late for tea, but Rose just grins knowingly and plies them both with biscuits and digestives she dug out of the cupboard - “Seeing how nobody made any sandwiches today.” With an impish grin, she teases them about how they “need to keep their strength up.” The Doctor blushes, like he always does, and Jack grins and teases back, like he always does, and it’s hard to believe that only this morning he wasn’t sure if he’d be allowed to stay on the TARDIS. Seems silly now, actually. He screwed up badly, yes, but he’s loved, and the Doctor doesn’t give his love easily enough to just discard those he’s given it to when they’re being, as he would say, “typical bloody apes.” The Doctor’s not his mother. He shudders at how wrong that thought sounds. But the principle holds true - just because he wasn’t forgiven the first time it really counted doesn’t mean he’s not worthy of it ever.
*****
Cardiff, Wales, UK, Earth, 2005. Of all the places he’d thought they might get in trouble, this didn’t even make the list. And it had seemed like such a nice town at first, too.
*****
Jack is sitting on the grating, studying circuits. He’s holding Blon’s macrokinetic extrapolator in his lap, looking back and forth between its circuitry and the TARDIS’s. The Doctor and Rose are out finding Blon a nice place in a nursery. He offered to come, of course, but the Doctor told him to stay and check the TARDIS for damage from the rift. A slight nod of his head had told Jack that the Time Lord wanted some time alone with Rose on the walk into town. Even though she was putting up a brave front, that thing with Mickey was clearly bothering her. For all that the Doctor hates domestics, he certainly is good at making his companions talk when he thinks they need to.
He finished the damage checks quickly. The TARDIS is strong - incredibly strong. She channeled all that energy with just a few singed cables and blown fuses. Easily fixed. So now he’s studying the shields.
The door opens. Rose and the Doctor come in. He can see at a glance that the Time Lord is annoyed. Probably had some trouble with the Raxacoricofallopatorian officials. Bit hard to explain, two aliens turning up with an egg of unknown origin. And if there’s one thing the Doctor hates, it’s bureaucracy.
The Doctor looks over at him, and raises an eyebrow. “Jack, if you’re fiddling with the shields-”
He raises his hands. “Not touching a thing. Just looking.”
“Well, what are you looking at them for?” The bite in his voice makes Jack jump. Seeing his nervous expression, the Doctor drops his voice. “Not saying you can’t. Looking’s fine.”
Rose is glancing back and forth between them. “You’re not gonna fight, are you? I’ve had enough relationship drama for one day.”
They both shake their heads. The Doctor smiles at Rose. “Not gonna fight. In a bit of a foul mood, me. That Praetor was so much of a stuck-up git, and him without two brain cells to rub together.”
“Complete plonker,” Rose confirms with a nod. “So, can I leave you two alone while I change? My clothes smell like Slitheen.”
The Doctor sends Jack a small smile - he knows it’s apology as much as peace offering.
“Sure you can, gorgeous.” Jack grins. “Managed to stay out of trouble this time, I swear.”
Rose grins. “Will wonders never cease?” He sticks out his tongue at her, and she playfully pulls his ear as she walks past him out of the console room.
The Doctor walks over to him. “Right. Tell me, then. What’s this obsession of yours with my shields?” The teasing twinkle in his eyes takes the sting out of the words.
Jack points. “It’s the phase alignment. It gyrates in tri-quantic cycles.”
The Doctor crosses his arms. “Yeah. So?”
“Anyone with a trimensional buffer could in principle reach right through them, straight into the TARDIS. All they’d need would be a pangalactic transmat, which, in a few millennia, will be pretty standard technology.”
The Doctor looks at him skeptically.
“Okay, a lot of millennia. But this is a time machine, and we do occasionally go that far forward.”
“Jack. Do you realize how much energy that would take?”
“A lot, I know, but-”
“A stupid amount. Who’d use that much raw energy to feed a transmat?” The Time Lord is shaking his head.
“Someone with lots of transport needs? Or a big enough grudge against, oh, say, the last Time Lord? Not like you don’t have enemies, Doctor.”
The Doctor considers this for a moment. “Point. But we can’t change the alignment. Dimensions twenty-three to thirty-one… Aw, you wouldn’t get it.”
He glances up at the Doctor, who shrugs. “Not a put-down. You just really wouldn’t.”
“All right, probably not. But the extrapolator gave me an idea.”
The Doctor’s gaze is somewhere between mild interest and impatience.
“Come on." He slides a hand up the Doctor's leg gently. "Just hear me out. If you don’t like it, I’ll never bring it up again, okay?”
With a sigh, the Doctor sits on the grating next to him. “Right. Let’s hear your brilliant plan, then.”
So he explains. Tries hard to think of every detail. Points out the compatibility between the extrapolator’s cosine circuits and the shields’ phase filters. Explains how, if he gets it at all, they can change the phase alignment without ever touching those fickle dimensions twenty-three to thirty-one.
“-it would take too much energy to keep online all the time,” he finishes. “But we could wire in a fast-access button, fire up the buffer whenever we think we might need it. It’s not foolproof, but…” He looks at his lover. The Doctor has been silent all through his explanation, his face expressionless. He occasionally scanned parts of the shield circuits or the extrapolator with his sonic screwdriver, but he never said a word. Jack sighs.
“So this is where you tell me that it’s an unworkable idea and I’m a stupid ape, yeah?” He says it with no rancor, just disappointment.
“No.” The Doctor grins at him widely. “This is where I tell you that it’s a brilliant idea and you’re fantastic!”
Did the Doctor just really say that? “You mean - it’ll work?”
“Oh yes, it will, Captain. And unless I’m much mistaken, it’ll make the shields run much more smoothly when flying in atmo, too!” The Doctor grabs his shoulders and snogs him enthusiastically. “Clever work, lad. Very clever.”
A feeling of warmth sweeps through Jack. He’s glad he’s already sitting, because he’s dizzy with excitement. The Doctor likes his plan! They’re going to do it. That little security gap that has been nibbling at him ever since he first thought of it is going to be fixed, and it’s because of an idea he had. And the Doctor is smiling at him proudly and calling him fantastic. Could this day get any better?
Well, he’s sure it will. A little later, when they’re in a bedroom together. Or in any room where Rose is not likely to walk in on them at any moment. Come to think of it, they haven't used the zero-gravity room in a while...
The Doctor’s sorting through tools and spare parts right now, giving instructions and preparing circuits. Jack grins. His idea is not just going to be implemented, it’s going to be implemented right now.
*****
It takes them a few hours. The work is fiddly, and the TARDIS has her own opinions on some of the cabling. Rose camps out on the bench by the console with tea, biscuits, and a stack of magazines. She alternates between reading and watching them, laughing about their child-like enthusiasm. “I don’t understand a single word you blokes are saying, so if any of it is directed at me, I’ll need a translation, yeah?”
They grin at her and very, very slowly ask her to share her biscuits. So it’s really only fair that they each get one pitched at their nose.
In the end, there’s a little orange button on the TARDIS shield controls that wasn’t there before. Every time he looks at it, Jack starts grinning. It’s physical, irrefutable proof that he belongs here.
And so is what the Doctor does to him later.
*****
Go to part 4
What? He blinks, assuming he’s not fully awake yet, but the Doctor’s dark form is still there, solid, leaning towards him with concern in his eyes, quietly repeating his name over and over again.
Oh, right. That was what woke him up, now that he thinks about it. The fog in his head is beginning to clear.
The Doctor looks at him searchingly. “You with me, lad?”
He nods. “Yeah, thanks. It was nothing. Just bad dreams.” He glances at his wrist comp. Half past three p.m. He’s slept over four hours.
The Doctor nod and sits back in the chair. “Tell me ‘bout the dreams.”
He shakes his head. “Nah, it’s not important.” He tries a blinding smile, but can tell the Doctor sees right through it.
“Told you you’d have to do one more thing for me. This is it. Tell me about the nightmares.”
Damn. He said - well, thought - he’d do anything, but he really wishes the Doctor had asked him to perform some more maintenance work. Or do the laundry. Hell, he’d rather be told to stand in the corner like a naughty schoolboy than talk about this.
The Doctor’s silent, waiting patiently.
Jack knows that the Doctor is not asking out of idle curiosity. He wants to help him. Jack can refuse to answer the question, of course - it’s not like the Doctor can actually force him to answer. Well, could - probably. Would - never. But refusing to answer now, under these circumstances, would be like saying that he doesn’t trust the Time Lord. And the Doctor has been incredibly open with him earlier today, when he had more than enough reason to not talk to him at all. Jack can’t refuse him now, not without feeling both selfish and like a coward. And he can see in his lover’s eyes that the Doctor knows that, too.
He gives a wry grin. “Well and truly trapped, eh?”
The Doctor grins back. “Psychology.” There’s a twinkle in his eyes.
Oh well. Nothing for it.
“Right.” He sits cross-legged on the bed and gathers his thoughts. “I have to go way back for this, okay?”
The Doctor nods. “Got plenty of time.”
“I was born on Boeshane. I don’t know if you know it…?”
“Yeah. Earth colony, Thiary system.”
He nods. “We lived on the Peninsula. Tiny little place, but had been the site of the first settlements, so it had a certain reputation - good soil, clean water… Seat of the colonial government, such as it was, and the planetary defence system.”
The Doctor frowns. “The invasion?”
Jack nods.
“How old were you?”
“Thirteen.”
The frown deepens.
“I… I lost my whole family that day.” Please, don’t let the Doctor ask for details. Don’t force him to explain how his brother’s death was his fault, and how he lost his father to the bombs and his mother to the failure she could never forgive him for.
The Doctor’s eyes shine with empathy. “I’m sorry, Jack.”
Before he can ask for details, Jack presses on. “That’s when the nightmares first started. But… well, pretty normal under the circumstances, right? Didn’t think much of it.”
The Doctor nods, listening intently.
“Not too long after, I joined the Agency. Lied about my age. Was no one left who could have made a fuss about it.” Or no one who cared enough to. “The other survivors from the Peninsula were proud, actually. Said I was a beacon of hope.” He scoffs.
There’s something searching in the Doctor’s gaze. The Time Lord knows he’s leaving things out. But he’s not pushing, and Jack is grateful.
“I loved the Academy. Really did. And I was good. Star pupil.” He grins rakishly, but can see it’s not fooling the Doctor. “Field training was even better. And once they gave me my badge and sent me out on missions, I was in heaven.”
The Doctor raises an eyebrow.
“Yeah, all right. Not all was well. I still had the nightmares, for one thing. But - the Agency has pills for that. Pop a few, dreamless sleep. Works like a charm.”
The Doctor’s face darkens. “Suppressants. Don’t help anything, just grind the pain in deeper.”
“Anyway, things were mostly great for a while. But - well, it’s a dangerous life. Some missions went wrong. Some agents lost…” He shrugs. “Part of the lifestyle.”
The Doctor’s not fooled. “Doesn’t make it hurt any less.”
Well, the idea was to be honest, right? He nods. “True. The nightmares… they started branching out, kind of. Weren’t just about the Peninsula anymore.”
“You dreamt about your other losses, too.”
“Yeah. They sent me in for psych eval, but the counselor said it was just normal stress reaction. Gave me some more pills and sent me on my way.”
The Doctor’s frown has deepened to a level that would scare Jack if he thought it was directed at him.
“Anyway, things didn’t get really bad until that day… the day I woke up with…” He gestures to his forehead vaguely.
“Your memories missing?”
“Not even sure if it was them, exactly. I mean, that day I didn’t just lose two years of my life - I lost my career, my home, and all my friends. Knew I would when I quit, of course, but…” He shrugs.
The Doctor nods in understanding.
“Then I became a conman. Guess that means I lost my self-respect. The night after my first con - self-cleaner, went off beautifully, without a hitch - I had the first nightmare that wasn’t a memory.”
The Doctor frowns - Jack is not sure if at the mention of the con or his explanation of the nightmare. “What do you mean?”
“Well, before, my dreams had always been about stuff that really happened, you know? The Peninsula, missions gone wrong, waking up not knowing when I was. But then I started having dreams about things that hadn’t happened. First I though they might be...”
“From those two years?”
“Yeah. But some of the dreams were about losing things I manifestly still had.”
“Like what?”
God, he doesn’t want to answer this. Doesn’t want to talk about those dreams. “I… Can we please skip this question?”
The Doctor nods. “For now.”
“Anyway, it’s got better since I’ve been on the TARDIS. I don’t have them as often anymore.”
“How often?”
He looks away. “Well…”
“Jack.” He can tell from the Doctor’s tone that they won’t be skipping this question.
He looks up. “Three or four times a week. Maybe five.”
The Doctor takes a deep breath. “So what you’re saying is, most nights?”
“But not every night. Which is progress.” He tries a carefree smile.
The Doctor shakes his head sadly. “Wish you’d told me.”
“Didn’t want to bother you. They’re just dreams.” He shakes his head and shrugs. “It’s silly.”
The Doctor gets up and steps over to the bed. With a little hand gesture and an inclination of his head, he silently asks permission to sit. Jack eagerly scoots over, and the Doctor sits down next to him, leaning against the headboard. Slowly, giving Jack plenty of time to back away if he wants, he reaches out. Jack readily leans into him, pressing up against the reassuringly solid form, and buries his face in the crook of the Doctor’s neck.
“Finally.” His voice is not trembling. Not in the least.
The Doctor drops a kiss on his hair. “Wasn’t sure you’d want me to. Was hard on you today.”
“I deserved it.”
The Doctor hugs him close. “Jack - those nightmares matter. And they’re not silly, yeah?”
Jack really doesn’t care right now. He just wants to be held right here, like this, forever. He shrugs.
“Problem is, there’s not a whole lot I can do about them. No quick fix. Well, there is, but it’s no good. Could give you pills, but really, they only make it worse.”
Jack nods against the Doctor’s shoulder. He does feel a little disappointed, if he’s honest. He’d hoped the Doctor would have a cure.
“There’s another thing I could do. Better than the pills. If you’ll let me.”
He looks up questioningly.
“Could go into your mind again. Give you dreamless sleep.”
“Sounds great,” he says without hesitation.
The Doctor smiles, and Jack understands that he wasn’t sure if he’d let him in like that again. Silly.
“Can’t do that all the time, though. Here and there to give you a peaceful night, yeah. But the nightmares… It’s like a pressure valve. If I close it off too often, the pressure’ll build and-”
“My head will explode?” He grins.
The Doctor chuckles. “Not literally. But it could do some serious damage.”
He nods in understanding. “There’s something else you could do.”
“Yeah?”
“Well… I…” Right, he’s going to sound like a six-year-old now. That’s fine. After last night and today, he doesn’t care. “I only have the nightmares when I’m alone.”
The Doctor hesitates. “Well-”
“I know you can’t stay with me all night, every night. You’d be bored to death. I get that. Just maybe, you know - every once in a while? If you don’t mind?” Damn, that ended up sounding even more childish than he’d expected. Three-year-old. Four at best.
“‘Course I will.”
“But I don’t want to keep you from doing other things-”
“Spend a lot of time in the library reading, or working on quantum-temporal equations. Can do that here just as easily - you don’t mind some low lights?”
“I can sleep in bright daylight. Agency training.”
“Right. And on the nights when I don’t stay, I could check in on you, yeah? Make sure you’re okay?” He suddenly looks up at the ceiling and cocks his head in concentration. “TARDIS says she can keep an eye on you if you want, alert me if you start tossing and turning.”
“She can do that?” Seeing the Doctor’s raised eyebrow, and hearing a slightly discordant shift in the ship’s background hum, he backpedals. “Of course she can.” He gently strokes the wall above the headboard. “Thank you.” The hum settles into a deep purring sound.
“Long term, though, there’s only one thing that’ll really help.”
“What’s that?”
The Doctor sighs. “Have to talk about it. Really talk. All the bits you left out just now.”
Jack looks away.
“Yeah, I know it’s hard. An’ it’s pretty ironic, me advocating talking ‘bout the difficult stuff. Hate to admit it, but it works.”
He’s still not looking up. There are things he can’t tell the Time Lord. Ever.
The Doctor gently tips up his chin and kisses his forehead. Jack’s seen him do this a million times with Rose, but he’s never been on the receiving end himself. It feels nice - comforting, protected. “No pressure, right? Won’t make you talk. Just - keep in mind that you should, and that I’ll listen when you’re ready. Well-” His face splits into the manic grin Jack loves so much. “Unless I’m busy being a stubborn git at the time, but then you just box me ‘round the ears, yeah?”
He grins. “Big enough target.”
“Oi!” The Doctor cuffs his neck affectionately, then draws him in for a proper kiss. It’s loving, and tender, and Jack wishes it could go on forever. Everything’s all right again. Everything’s-
A memory washes over him like a bucket of iced water. He breaks the kiss and pulls back, shoulders hunched. “There’s one more thing.”
“Yeah?” The Doctor’s eyes are a mixture of confusion and concern.
“When… when the other you was here. When you told me it might be centuries before you regenerate in our timeline. I saw the way you looked at each other. You were lying, right?”
The Doctor flinches. “No. Not quite lying. But…” His voice trails off. He looks at Jack searchingly.
“Please. I need to know.”
“Right. Well, not all timelines are the same, yeah? ‘S hard to explain, but it’s like some are… heavier than others, sort of. Can drag them down, shape them.”
He nods. He’s never heard anything about this at the Academy, but knows better by now then to doubt the Doctor. He still winces when he thinks about his first night on board, the time he tried to lecture the Time Lord about spatial-temporal sciences.
“Time Lord, me, yeah? Last one, at that. That makes my timeline pretty darn heavy. And regeneration - that’s a really big event. Heavy shift.”
“So if regeneration happened to him at a particular point in his timeline, that means it’ll happen like that in all the timelines?” He gulps. He’s going to lose the Doctor. His Doctor, at any rate.
“Nah. Not necessarily. There’s some variation, even for me. Thing is, regeneration happens at approximately the same point for me in-” He hesitates, frowning in concentration. “-probably ninety-five percent of my timelines.”
Jack grasps the Doctor’s arm tightly. “You’re saying there’s a ninety-five percent chance you’ll die in the next few years?”
“Don’t know that. Could be a freak timeline, this. More importantly, he could have been from a freak timeline. Might be there’s a ninety-five percent chance I won’t.” His cheerful smile would be reassuring if it wasn’t so forced.
“Can we find out?”
“No. Not until it happens. Or doesn’t happen.”
Jack slumps against the Doctor’s shoulder. “Oh.”
“Which leaves us exactly where we were before. We none of us know when we’re going to die. Better this way.” He strokes a thumb over Jack’s collar-bone tenderly.
Jack nods and tries to relax his tense muscles. What will be, will be - isn’t there an old Earth song to that effect? Anyway, best not to think about it. If there’s one thing you learn as a Time Agent, it’s that trying to predict anyone’s personal future will drive you mad. Sometimes literally. He pulls himself together and makes a conscious effort to shake of the gloominess. He plays with his jeans buttons and grins up at the Time Lord. “We’ve got some time before tea. Wanna make the most of it?”
The Doctor’s eyes are dark and serious. “Jack - there’s one more thing.”
He sobers. “Yeah?”
“If it happens - if I regenerate - give me a chance, yeah? That bloke you met last night - he really is me, for all that he is a pretty boy with a motor-mouth.”
Jack doesn’t hesitate. Of course he’d give that Doctor a chance. It seems another version of him already has, and things worked out for them. He playfully kisses the Doctor’s cheek. “Well, might be worth it - could be nice to have a version of you around who’ll actually admit I look good shirtless.”
The Doctor laughs and firmly grabs the front of Jack's jeans with both hands. He makes sure to put pressure in all the right places as he starts popping the buttons. “Prefer you trouserless, me.”
Jack grins and rolls his hips to help the Doctor slide down his jeans - and to shamelessly grind against places that he knows will get the Doctor out of his own clothes soon, too. He hates fighting with the Time Lord, but the make-up sex is always spectacular.
*****
Later, as they are enjoying the afterglow, and trying to drag up the energy to go to the kitchen - they’ll have to hurry if they want to be in time for tea, and it’s the Doctor’s turn to make the sandwiches - Jack asks, shyly, if he’s still allowed to work on the TARDIS.
“Made you work on her today, didn’t I?” The Doctor grins.
“That’s different. I mean - sensitive stuff?”
The Doctor looks at him sharply for moment, then he nods. “But not without clearing it with me first, understood?”
He nods at once. He’s learned his lesson. Well, two, actually. Firstly, the TARDIS is not just one hell of a ship - she’s one hell of a lady. And secondly, her soul is the Doctor’s, and no one comes between her and her Time Lord. “Of course not. Won’t touch her unless you’re there.”
The Doctor shakes his head. “Didn’t say that. Said you have to ask.”
Jack raises his head from the Doctor’s shoulder and looks up at him. “Okay, just to be clear - I can still work on her without supervision, long as it’s per your instructions?”
The Doctor grins. “Wouldn’t say without supervision.” He reaches up to stroke the wall above his head. “Just without mine.” He chuckles. “And don’t come crying to me when she zaps you. That’s between her and you, and I’ll probably just assume you deserved it.”
Jack grins and puts his hand next to the Doctor’s on the TARDIS wall. “Oh well. There are worse fates in life than being slapped by a beautiful lady.”
The spark hits his backside apparently out of nowhere. He startles, then he cracks up. He doesn’t have to be a telepath to know this was playful. “I’ll be good, gorgeous. I swear.”
He hears the low rumble of the Doctor’s chuckle, and feels blood rushing back to body parts he’d thought exhausted for the moment.
The Doctor notices and grins, but shakes his head. “Absolutely not. Rose’ll be putting the kettle on soon.”
*****
In the end, they are quite a bit late for tea, but Rose just grins knowingly and plies them both with biscuits and digestives she dug out of the cupboard - “Seeing how nobody made any sandwiches today.” With an impish grin, she teases them about how they “need to keep their strength up.” The Doctor blushes, like he always does, and Jack grins and teases back, like he always does, and it’s hard to believe that only this morning he wasn’t sure if he’d be allowed to stay on the TARDIS. Seems silly now, actually. He screwed up badly, yes, but he’s loved, and the Doctor doesn’t give his love easily enough to just discard those he’s given it to when they’re being, as he would say, “typical bloody apes.” The Doctor’s not his mother. He shudders at how wrong that thought sounds. But the principle holds true - just because he wasn’t forgiven the first time it really counted doesn’t mean he’s not worthy of it ever.
*****
Cardiff, Wales, UK, Earth, 2005. Of all the places he’d thought they might get in trouble, this didn’t even make the list. And it had seemed like such a nice town at first, too.
*****
Jack is sitting on the grating, studying circuits. He’s holding Blon’s macrokinetic extrapolator in his lap, looking back and forth between its circuitry and the TARDIS’s. The Doctor and Rose are out finding Blon a nice place in a nursery. He offered to come, of course, but the Doctor told him to stay and check the TARDIS for damage from the rift. A slight nod of his head had told Jack that the Time Lord wanted some time alone with Rose on the walk into town. Even though she was putting up a brave front, that thing with Mickey was clearly bothering her. For all that the Doctor hates domestics, he certainly is good at making his companions talk when he thinks they need to.
He finished the damage checks quickly. The TARDIS is strong - incredibly strong. She channeled all that energy with just a few singed cables and blown fuses. Easily fixed. So now he’s studying the shields.
The door opens. Rose and the Doctor come in. He can see at a glance that the Time Lord is annoyed. Probably had some trouble with the Raxacoricofallopatorian officials. Bit hard to explain, two aliens turning up with an egg of unknown origin. And if there’s one thing the Doctor hates, it’s bureaucracy.
The Doctor looks over at him, and raises an eyebrow. “Jack, if you’re fiddling with the shields-”
He raises his hands. “Not touching a thing. Just looking.”
“Well, what are you looking at them for?” The bite in his voice makes Jack jump. Seeing his nervous expression, the Doctor drops his voice. “Not saying you can’t. Looking’s fine.”
Rose is glancing back and forth between them. “You’re not gonna fight, are you? I’ve had enough relationship drama for one day.”
They both shake their heads. The Doctor smiles at Rose. “Not gonna fight. In a bit of a foul mood, me. That Praetor was so much of a stuck-up git, and him without two brain cells to rub together.”
“Complete plonker,” Rose confirms with a nod. “So, can I leave you two alone while I change? My clothes smell like Slitheen.”
The Doctor sends Jack a small smile - he knows it’s apology as much as peace offering.
“Sure you can, gorgeous.” Jack grins. “Managed to stay out of trouble this time, I swear.”
Rose grins. “Will wonders never cease?” He sticks out his tongue at her, and she playfully pulls his ear as she walks past him out of the console room.
The Doctor walks over to him. “Right. Tell me, then. What’s this obsession of yours with my shields?” The teasing twinkle in his eyes takes the sting out of the words.
Jack points. “It’s the phase alignment. It gyrates in tri-quantic cycles.”
The Doctor crosses his arms. “Yeah. So?”
“Anyone with a trimensional buffer could in principle reach right through them, straight into the TARDIS. All they’d need would be a pangalactic transmat, which, in a few millennia, will be pretty standard technology.”
The Doctor looks at him skeptically.
“Okay, a lot of millennia. But this is a time machine, and we do occasionally go that far forward.”
“Jack. Do you realize how much energy that would take?”
“A lot, I know, but-”
“A stupid amount. Who’d use that much raw energy to feed a transmat?” The Time Lord is shaking his head.
“Someone with lots of transport needs? Or a big enough grudge against, oh, say, the last Time Lord? Not like you don’t have enemies, Doctor.”
The Doctor considers this for a moment. “Point. But we can’t change the alignment. Dimensions twenty-three to thirty-one… Aw, you wouldn’t get it.”
He glances up at the Doctor, who shrugs. “Not a put-down. You just really wouldn’t.”
“All right, probably not. But the extrapolator gave me an idea.”
The Doctor’s gaze is somewhere between mild interest and impatience.
“Come on." He slides a hand up the Doctor's leg gently. "Just hear me out. If you don’t like it, I’ll never bring it up again, okay?”
With a sigh, the Doctor sits on the grating next to him. “Right. Let’s hear your brilliant plan, then.”
So he explains. Tries hard to think of every detail. Points out the compatibility between the extrapolator’s cosine circuits and the shields’ phase filters. Explains how, if he gets it at all, they can change the phase alignment without ever touching those fickle dimensions twenty-three to thirty-one.
“-it would take too much energy to keep online all the time,” he finishes. “But we could wire in a fast-access button, fire up the buffer whenever we think we might need it. It’s not foolproof, but…” He looks at his lover. The Doctor has been silent all through his explanation, his face expressionless. He occasionally scanned parts of the shield circuits or the extrapolator with his sonic screwdriver, but he never said a word. Jack sighs.
“So this is where you tell me that it’s an unworkable idea and I’m a stupid ape, yeah?” He says it with no rancor, just disappointment.
“No.” The Doctor grins at him widely. “This is where I tell you that it’s a brilliant idea and you’re fantastic!”
Did the Doctor just really say that? “You mean - it’ll work?”
“Oh yes, it will, Captain. And unless I’m much mistaken, it’ll make the shields run much more smoothly when flying in atmo, too!” The Doctor grabs his shoulders and snogs him enthusiastically. “Clever work, lad. Very clever.”
A feeling of warmth sweeps through Jack. He’s glad he’s already sitting, because he’s dizzy with excitement. The Doctor likes his plan! They’re going to do it. That little security gap that has been nibbling at him ever since he first thought of it is going to be fixed, and it’s because of an idea he had. And the Doctor is smiling at him proudly and calling him fantastic. Could this day get any better?
Well, he’s sure it will. A little later, when they’re in a bedroom together. Or in any room where Rose is not likely to walk in on them at any moment. Come to think of it, they haven't used the zero-gravity room in a while...
The Doctor’s sorting through tools and spare parts right now, giving instructions and preparing circuits. Jack grins. His idea is not just going to be implemented, it’s going to be implemented right now.
*****
It takes them a few hours. The work is fiddly, and the TARDIS has her own opinions on some of the cabling. Rose camps out on the bench by the console with tea, biscuits, and a stack of magazines. She alternates between reading and watching them, laughing about their child-like enthusiasm. “I don’t understand a single word you blokes are saying, so if any of it is directed at me, I’ll need a translation, yeah?”
They grin at her and very, very slowly ask her to share her biscuits. So it’s really only fair that they each get one pitched at their nose.
In the end, there’s a little orange button on the TARDIS shield controls that wasn’t there before. Every time he looks at it, Jack starts grinning. It’s physical, irrefutable proof that he belongs here.
And so is what the Doctor does to him later.
*****
Go to part 4