Fic: Journey's End
Title: Journey’s End
Challenge: Episode Titles
Pairing: Jack/Doctor
Warnings: Character Death, Emo Mush, German (I don’t actually speak it, so I probably screwed up the sentence structure. Deep apologies.)
A/N: The quotes at the beginning and the end come from the Brahms Requiem, which inspired this little ficlet. It is a truly glorious piece of music, and for some reason the Bass solo movement (III) always makes me think of the Doctor. The translation is not exact, but it gets the main point across.
Herr, lehre doch mich, daß ein Ende mit mir haben muß,
und mein Leben ein Ziel hat,
und ich davon muß.
Lord, teach me to remember that my life has an end
and that I must die
Jack cradled the Doctor’s head in his lap watching the life ebb away, struggling to hold back the tears. It struck Jack as oddly appropriate (if not a little ironic) that the Doctor’s long, courageous life ended not in a burst of glorious flame, but quietly, almost normally, on the planet he had loved so much. He was dying on the Earth, in the arms of his closest friend, and around them people walked past unthinkingly, perception filters shielding them from view. Even if Jack and the Doctor could be seen, no one would have stopped. To the citizens of Earth, the Doctor was a stranger. Even after all he had done for them, they still didn’t know his name.
Jack put his hand over the fatal wound, a stray bullet the Doctor hadn’t even noticed until it killed his already weakened left heart. The Doctor was, after all, an old man. By human standards he was ancient. By Timelord standards, he was just approaching the wrong end of middle age, but he would never live long enough to be considered old by that dead race. It was the price of being a renegade, of being an interferer, of being the last. He went through regenerations much too quickly, and now he had run out. He had explained all of this to Jack in gasps and short phrases, fighting the pain of the wound, the awful decay of his vital organs as one by one they shut down.
Jack’s body ached with the storm of conflicting emotions. He wished that he could end it for the Doctor, kill him quickly and be done with it. And yet, it seemed so unjust that the Doctor had to die and leave Jack alone in the world. He jealously clung to every last second of the Doctor’s existence and couldn’t help thinking bitterly that by the time he, himself, died (if he ever did) no one would be around to hold him this way.
At last, Jack couldn’t stand to listen to the awful silence, the horrible rasping sound of Doctor’s labored breathing. He covered it with his own dry voice, “Hey you, don’t leave me now. I need you. You know there are still so many places we haven’t been to, you and I.”
He sat for a moment, staring at the Doctor’s long eyelashes fluttering over his eyes. He was close to the end.
Jack sobbed (he couldn’t help it) saying desperately, “I never bought you that drink.”
It was then that the Doctor’s eyes opened. “Yes, you did. Haven’t done it yet…” The Doctor’s voice tapered off into coughing, and Jack quieted him with a finger to his lips, covering his despair with desperate bravado
“Think I’d let you go that easily. No way, I’m not giving up without a fight.”
“All things end, Jack, and everything dies. Even you. Secret, Jack,” Jack leaned closer to the Doctor, straining to hear the quiet words. “I’ll be there.”
He died with a smile on his face, and Jack watched in silent awe, his tears abruptly dried and gone. Around them, the world continued on in blissful ignorance. Human beings, living out mundane little lives, completely oblivious to the shattering event that had just taken place. Completely unaware that an era had just been exhaled into the smog-ridden British air. And that was only right.
Selig sind, die da Leid tragen,
denn sie sollen getröstet werden.
Blessed are they who mourn
For they will be comforted
They who sew tears, will reap joy
Challenge: Episode Titles
Pairing: Jack/Doctor
Warnings: Character Death, Emo Mush, German (I don’t actually speak it, so I probably screwed up the sentence structure. Deep apologies.)
A/N: The quotes at the beginning and the end come from the Brahms Requiem, which inspired this little ficlet. It is a truly glorious piece of music, and for some reason the Bass solo movement (III) always makes me think of the Doctor. The translation is not exact, but it gets the main point across.
Herr, lehre doch mich, daß ein Ende mit mir haben muß,
und mein Leben ein Ziel hat,
und ich davon muß.
Lord, teach me to remember that my life has an end
and that I must die
Jack cradled the Doctor’s head in his lap watching the life ebb away, struggling to hold back the tears. It struck Jack as oddly appropriate (if not a little ironic) that the Doctor’s long, courageous life ended not in a burst of glorious flame, but quietly, almost normally, on the planet he had loved so much. He was dying on the Earth, in the arms of his closest friend, and around them people walked past unthinkingly, perception filters shielding them from view. Even if Jack and the Doctor could be seen, no one would have stopped. To the citizens of Earth, the Doctor was a stranger. Even after all he had done for them, they still didn’t know his name.
Jack put his hand over the fatal wound, a stray bullet the Doctor hadn’t even noticed until it killed his already weakened left heart. The Doctor was, after all, an old man. By human standards he was ancient. By Timelord standards, he was just approaching the wrong end of middle age, but he would never live long enough to be considered old by that dead race. It was the price of being a renegade, of being an interferer, of being the last. He went through regenerations much too quickly, and now he had run out. He had explained all of this to Jack in gasps and short phrases, fighting the pain of the wound, the awful decay of his vital organs as one by one they shut down.
Jack’s body ached with the storm of conflicting emotions. He wished that he could end it for the Doctor, kill him quickly and be done with it. And yet, it seemed so unjust that the Doctor had to die and leave Jack alone in the world. He jealously clung to every last second of the Doctor’s existence and couldn’t help thinking bitterly that by the time he, himself, died (if he ever did) no one would be around to hold him this way.
At last, Jack couldn’t stand to listen to the awful silence, the horrible rasping sound of Doctor’s labored breathing. He covered it with his own dry voice, “Hey you, don’t leave me now. I need you. You know there are still so many places we haven’t been to, you and I.”
He sat for a moment, staring at the Doctor’s long eyelashes fluttering over his eyes. He was close to the end.
Jack sobbed (he couldn’t help it) saying desperately, “I never bought you that drink.”
It was then that the Doctor’s eyes opened. “Yes, you did. Haven’t done it yet…” The Doctor’s voice tapered off into coughing, and Jack quieted him with a finger to his lips, covering his despair with desperate bravado
“Think I’d let you go that easily. No way, I’m not giving up without a fight.”
“All things end, Jack, and everything dies. Even you. Secret, Jack,” Jack leaned closer to the Doctor, straining to hear the quiet words. “I’ll be there.”
He died with a smile on his face, and Jack watched in silent awe, his tears abruptly dried and gone. Around them, the world continued on in blissful ignorance. Human beings, living out mundane little lives, completely oblivious to the shattering event that had just taken place. Completely unaware that an era had just been exhaled into the smog-ridden British air. And that was only right.
Selig sind, die da Leid tragen,
denn sie sollen getröstet werden.
Blessed are they who mourn
For they will be comforted
They who sew tears, will reap joy