Fic: Spn/DrWho/TW Crossover - Enter the Doctor - (9/11)
Title: Enter the Doctor - Part 9
Author: ravengrimm
Pairing: Dean/Castiel, Jack/Sam?, Jack/Ten?(onesided), John, Paul, mystery!cajun, and yet more
Genre: Crossover - Supernatural/Doctor Who/Torchwood, Slash, light angst
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 3230
Warnings: This gets even crazier and crosses over with yet another show, hope it's not too confusing :/
Spoilers: Spn - S4, DrWho - up to 4.16, TW - CoE
Summary: More guessed for the TARDIS party, and there are a few surprises for the heroes...
Note: This takes place between S4 and S5 - Supernatural, before 'The End of Time' - Doctor Who, and at the end of 'Children of Earth' - Torchwood.
I hope you enjoy :)
Previous Chapters: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8
Meanwhile, inside the TARDIS, location... the ocean??
John is soaking his feet, legs hanging out of the doors as he wonders how the Police Box is floating on water, wondering a lot of things about this weird box, but that’s the most prominent thought right now.
He takes a long drag from his cigarette, finishing it, and tosses it out into the sea before swinging his legs back inside.
He sighs heavily as he closes the doors and slumps back against them.
Dean won’t be pleased, he did it again…
He watches as Paul tries to teach their newest guest how to play ‘I wanna hold your hand’ on guitar, but Paul hasn’t got a clue what Beethoven’s saying, and he keeps gesturing what looks like a piano, which Paul is yet to find stashed away anywhere.
They picked Beethoven up in the last place they stopped, John assumes Germany. He’d been rather shocked when Paul leapt out of the Box at him, arms wide and grinning manically. But curiosity must have gotten the better of him, as he didn’t need much coercion to come inside.
The demon-eyed man is slouching lazily against the wall across the room, glancing at all the strange devises, flashing lights and switches, every now and then glancing at Paul, or John thoughtfully.
And John’s suspicious of the man, more so now than when he thought he was cheating at poker. Those eyes, red on black, seem more unusual than a Police Box that can apparently travel through time, and John doesn’t know what to make of them…
“So how come I’ve never heard of mutants before now?” John asks, rolling a fresh ciggy and the man doesn’t falter in the slightest at the abrupt, direct question.
He shrugs. “I don’ know, mon ami. Where I come from almost everyone knows about mutants,” he says, folding his arms across his chest.
“Strange,” John comments, holding the cigarette to his lips. “But then, I’m from Nineteen Sixty-four, so…” he trails off, and the man shrugs. “What was your name again?” John asks, as he’d not really been paying attention the first time he was told it.
“Remy Le Beau, but you can jus’ call me Gambit if you like,” he says with a roguish smile.
*
The room is almost painfully quite as the Doctor stands there, his body swaying slightly, his eyes clamped shut, and the empty Sontaran vessel at his feet.
When at last he opens his eyes they’re pure white and there’s a wicked grin tugging at his lips. Dean sets his jaw, readying himself for the fight he’d expected to have when he first encountered the Doctor, only now, the Doctor is his friend.
The Doctor blinks once and his eyes are completely normal again and he’s frowning.
He cocks his head to one side, a shiver visibly running down his body.
He shakes his head like a dog drying off a wet mane, and frowns at some distant, unimportant point across the room.
He jiggles his shoulders, rolling them back then forward, and back again.
He shakes his arms now almost waving them in the air, twisting his stomach from side to side at the same time until he starts jumping about, doing some strange dance that ends with him hoping on one leg.
His right foot is in the air twisting this way and that.
“Doc?” Dean asks, uncertainly.
“Hang on. I’m just trying to - Oh, cold, cold!” he says, shaking his foot harder and frowning deeply.
“Trying to…?”
“To channel the - No, hot! Ah!” He yelps, wobbling to one side when his foot thrusts forward suddenly, then he smiles. “Oh warm… that’s actually quite pleasant,” he says.
His expression turns distraught. “No cold! Definitely cold!” he yells, and at this point his converse flies off and knocks an Ood clean out a good few metres away.
The Doctor smiles crookedly. “Sorry,” he says. “Could have sworn I did my laces up.”
“Doctor? Jack hazards, and then asks the question on everyone’s lips. “Are you okay?”
The Doctor cracks a wide grin, straightening up. “Never better!” he says, before looking down at his bare foot with a thoughtful look in his eyes as he wriggle his toes. “Bare foot in a warehouse… hmm, not quite as good as on the moon…” he says distractedly.
He looks up, a determined look in his eyes. “You might want to burn that,” he says, pointing at his strangely smouldering shoe and then turns to the Captain and says, “Any way. Jack…” he gestures the doors with his head. “Allons-y!”
And with that he bolts out of the room past stunned demons and aliens alike, and with only one shoe on…
All eyes are on the double doors that are swinging in the wake of his exit, no one saying a word. And after a moment Jack shakes his head, and bursts out laughing. “You’ve got to love that Doctor,” he says not for the first time.
“He’s insane,” Dean offers up and Jack chuckles.
He makes a move to leave, but a thought visibly forms in his eyes and turning sharply, he grabs Sam by the collar of his jacket and kisses him full on the lips.
Sam looks stunned, his eyes wide, his fingers splayed out at his sides, unsure of what to do with them. Dean’s pretty sure he sees his brother relax in to the kiss too, and Dean doesn’t know whether to laugh or give them some privacy, not that that’s really possible at this point in time.
Jack pulls back just as abruptly as he started the kiss and smiles cockily at Sam. “In case this is good bye,” he says as an explanation, and Sam looks about to speak but closes his lips sharply and pays the ground some very close attention.
Jack turns a thoughtful eye on Castiel and then even Dean and Dean scowls at him. “Don’t even think about it!” he warns, and Jack just laughs again before saluting playfully and darting off after the Doctor, aliens and demons watching in stupefied silence, unsure of what they’re supposed to do with their boss apparently out of action.
Sam turns very slowly to look at Dean, his cheeks lightly flushed and one hand now held to his lips. And it apparently takes him another second to comprehend what has just happened as his eyes dart away again and Dean chokes back a snigger.
Sam clears his throat before changing the subject, his eyes now firmly on the Doctor’s shoe as he says, “Um, Dean? Is… Lillith… dead?”
Dean flexes his shoulders, readying himself to say, and except, yet another impossible fact. He knows is gonna sound utterly ridiculous, but it seems to be the only reasonable answer, so…
“Uh, well… She’s in a… shoe… I think. So… yeah. I assume she is. Maybe. Somehow.” He shrugs. Will the madness ever end? Dean sincerely doubts it.
“Got a match?” he asks, and only then does he notice that both the remaining Daleks have gone…
*
Meanwhile, the TARDIS, location... of he gives up...
Something is going on outside; John can hear noises. He quirks an eyebrow at Paul who shrugs, and gets poked in the arm by Beethoven for stopping midway through a verse of ‘Twist and Shout’. He’d been getting the hang of their songs now, thanks to the mysterious keyboard Paul uncovered beneath a sink, a sink that wasn’t there when he went to show John it afterwards as proof, proof that John smugly noted didn’t exist.
Remy shakes his head when John glances his way and shifts his weight so that he can get an unobstructed view of the door around the column that dominates the centre of the room.
Approaching the doors the sound becomes defined as talking and John can just make out the words being said.
“It’s bloody locked!” someone is saying loudly and irritably, the doors shaking slightly, the handles rattling. “Gladys, you got a key?” the voice demands and there’s a heartbeat of silence followed by, “Don’t call me Gladys, Guv. Or if that’s too hard at least limit yourself to only when we’re in the office.” This speaker is calmer than the other, but by the sound of his voice it’s clear this isn’t the first time he’s had to say that.
“Any way, we shouldn’t just leave him in here while you go have your lunch, it’s not professional,” the voice continues.
“Sod professional! I didn’t have breakfast this morning, I’m hungry!” the one possibly known as ‘Guv’ declares.
“I-I’m sorry, I won’t do it again, I promise! Please don’t lock me in there!” a third, frantic voice pleads.
“Quiet you! Or I’ll throw you in front of traffic.”
“You mean booze, Guv? Which to most, isn’t considered breakfast. And that’s not really an excuse either,” ‘Don’t Call Me Gladys’ says.
“Yes it is. Now hurry up and open the door.”
John opens it. But only enough to poke his head through, and he squints in the sunlight at the three men he finds there. “Hullo?”
“What the bloody hell are you doing in there?!” the larger of the three men - probably ‘Guv’ - says, as he yanks hard on the collar of a man handcuffed at his side and causes him to stumble forward. “I could arrest you for that, trespassing on police property is a crime y’know.”
“Sorry,” the leaner, ‘Don’t Call Me Gladys’ man says, nudging the other one aside slightly as he stands in front of him. “Ignore him.-“
“Oi! Nobody ignores me, Tyler!” the first man interrupts but is… ignored.
“I’m DI Tyler, and this is DCI Hunt,” he says gesturing the surly looking man with an irked look on his face. “What exactly are you doing here?” he asks and John shrugs. “I donno,” he says, and pushing the doors open fully he adds, “I don’t know where ‘here’ is,” And all three men stare into the Police Box, mouths falling wide.
“Tyler?!” DCI Hunt barks with a sharp intake of breath.
*
“Doctor, they’ve nearly broken through, and this gun doesn’t seem to do much to the ones being possessed. It barely slows them down at all,” Jack says as he watches an Ood-clad-demon trying to break through the Sonic-lock, salted and devil-trapped door.
Jack doesn’t exactly understand the logic behind rock salt and the supernatural but he’ll try anything if it’ll keep the monsters out.
“I’m working as fast as I can, Jack, this door’s had everything but a deadlock put on it. I suppose we should be thankful for that,” the Doctor says over his shoulder, his Sonic Screwdriver buzzing away at the doors many locks and hinges.
There’s a click and the Doctor opens the door with a satisfied huff. He locks it again once they’re through and Jack quickly salts it and draws another devil’s trap from the sketch Sam had done for him.
They pass through several more doors much the same, though they’re not so heavily secured as the first, which the Doctor in turn; makes sure is secure once they’re on the other side.
It’s not long before they find the room that houses the Rift Manipulator and there isn’t a demon or alien in sight, and the door isn’t even locked, but the reason for that becomes apparent…
“It’s full of radiation,” the Doctor says, his hands and face flat against the window in the door, staring into the haze filling the room beyond, the room they need to go into.
“What kind of radiation?” Jack asks as he flips open his wrist strap to see for himself.
“Every kind,” the Doctor says after a moment and Jack agrees, staring at the long list of toxins, radiation and gasses filling the room with the Manipulator.
“How can that room even contain so much radiation? It’s not like this place was built for it,” Jack asks. According to the readouts, the walls here are like any other warehouse’s walls, brick and steal, not lead lined or even particularly reinforced.
The Doctor grabs Jack’s arm and pulls it close so that he can see the tiny monitor himself, and Jack doesn’t mind at all, he’s just happy to have the Doctor’s hands on him and he thinks he hides his smirk quite well
“Blop?” the Doctor says thoughtfully. “I’ve not heard of Blop radiation. Blop, Blop, Buhhhlopuh, Blop Blop, funny word,” he say with a grin, and Jack’s defences instantly crumble and his smirk spreads right across his face, and he can’t help but laugh.
“Any way. It’s a pocket,” the Doctor starts to explain, disappointingly releasing Jack’s arm at the same time. “Time and space are splintering in localized areas… at the moment, that is.
“There are pockets everywhere, each enclosing what has slipped through, but they won’t stay the sizes they are for long. And this particular pocket just happens to fit inside this room.” He points a thumb behind him and shrugs.
“And just happens to contain the very thing we need to stop all of this too,” Jack adds with a sigh and the Doctor smiles thinly.
“Right,” the Doctor agrees.
He flaps his hands down against his sides, taking a deep breath and says, “I guess it’s time to save the Earth again.” And Jack doesn’t miss the underlying tone of uncertainty in the Doctor’s voice, and it makes Jack very nervous.
He grabs the Timelord’s wrist as he reaches for the handle and the Doctor’s expression is surprised as he turns back to look at Jack, but it quickly turns to determination as he says, “I need to get in there, Jack.”
“You’ll die!” Jack says, biting back the pain and desperation that has suddenly sprung to the foreground with saying those two words aloud.
The Doctor falters only slightly before saying, “I have to try!” And reaches again for the handle with his free hand and Jack snatches it up as well.
“No!” is all Jack manages to say, the other words momentarily lost from his tongue as he pushes the Doctor up against the door, pinning the Timelord’s hands either side of his head.
“I… can’t loose you, Doctor,” Jack almost sobs out as he holds back the emotion that’s threatening to engulf him.
Jack has lost so many people, too many to even bare thinking about. The Doctor is the one person that could always be there, should always be there, the one constant. And really, by extension, isn’t it the Doctor’s fault that Jack is the way he is? That he’ll never die? So isn’t the Doctor duty bound to stay with Jack? To stay alive for Jack?
No that’s not the reason, not the real reason why Jack needs the Doctor to be safe. Jack loves him, loves that geeky face of his, loves his tall, skinny frame, those unnecessary glasses, those wide brown eyes, that goofy grin.
Sure Jack had loved the Doctor’s previous incarnation, and would undoubtedly love every single subsequent one, and had he known the ones before, he would have loved them as well, but there’s just something about this one that Jack would miss more than any other. And then of course there’s the possibility that the Doctor might not be able to regenerate for some reason, and Jack just can’t let that happen.
“I’ll go,” Jack tells the Doctor with conviction.
The Doctor shakes his head and struggles against Jack’s grip. “No, Jack. You don’t know how much radiation you can take.”
“I’ll live,” Jack say, holding the Doctor firmer against the door. “I might die, but I’ll come back, I always do. You can’t say the same about yourself, can you?”
The Doctor looks down, something like defeat in his eyes and he stops struggling to free himself. “I’m not human, Jack, I can withstand a lot of radiation.”
The Doctor is clutching at straws, trying to sacrifice himself, undoubtedly wanting to save Jack, but Jack doesn’t want saving, not if it means losing the Doctor.
“But not this much.” Jack knows it’s true, he heard it in the Doctor’s voice, can see it in his eyes.
He’s seen that look before, the look that means the Doctor knows he’s going to die.
“You’ll have a limit, Jack,” the Doctor counters. “No one is completely invulnerable.”
“I’ll be fine,” Jack says, and taking a step into the Doctor’s space, he sets his jaw and adds, “But only if I know you’re safe.”
The Doctor visibly swallows. “Jack, I-“
“Promise me you’ll be safe.”
The Doctor’s lips move wordlessly and Jack pleads again.
“Please, Doctor. I need you to be safe. I need you to live. This life… Without you…” he lowers his head. “I just can’t.”
He loosens his hold on the Doctor enough for the Timelord to slip a hand free and it comes to rest on Jack’s cheek.
“Jack,” he says, tilting the Captain’s chin up and looking him in the eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he says and then wraps his arms around Jack’s neck, pulling him tight against his body and Jack grips the Timelord firmly to his chest. “I’m so sorry, Jack. Immortality is so… lonely,” he confesses and Jack only nods against his neck, his throat currently unable to form words beyond a sob.
“I’ll stay with you… If you want me to…”
Jack feels about ready so break with that sentiment, but somehow he manages to hold the tears back.
Even though Jack makes the Doctor feel weird to be around him and even though the TARDIS isn’t exactly happy with Jack existing the way he does, the Doctor would still stay with him. That’s the Doctor; always sacrificing everything for the good of others.
Jack takes a shallow step backwards and rests his hands on the Doctor’s shoulders to look at him without going cross-eyed. “Just stay safe for now,” he says, managing a smile. “And we’ll work out what comes later after I’ve turned this thing off, okay?”
The Doctor smiles softly. “Okay.”
“Y’know, Doctor. I just realised something.”
“What’s that?” the Doctor asks curiously and Jack tries to hide the smirk tugging at his lips.
He tightens his grip again as he says, “I’ve not kissed this face before.” And before the Doctor can say a word, Jack does just that, pinning the Timelord once more against the door.
Jack makes the most of this rare opportunity and runs his fingers through that mop of messy brown hair for the first time. A tiny sound of surprise escapes the Timelord’s lips and Jack smiles against them before making full use of the opening and pushing the kiss deeper.
Jack pulls back eventually and tries to conceal the lustful look he knows must be evident in his eyes as he stares at the faint blush rising in the Doctor’s cheeks. “I’ll definitely add that to the list,” he says still fondling the Doctor’s hair.
“Add what? What list?” the Doctor asks, a little breathlessly and Jack can’t help but feel smug about that.
Jack traces a finger down the Doctor’s jaw and rests his thumb against his lips. The Doctor’s blush deepens and his eyes falter to Jack’s lips for a second. “The list of reasons why I love you,” Jack explains.
*
Next Chapter
Author: ravengrimm
Pairing: Dean/Castiel, Jack/Sam?, Jack/Ten?(onesided), John, Paul, mystery!cajun, and yet more
Genre: Crossover - Supernatural/Doctor Who/Torchwood, Slash, light angst
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 3230
Warnings: This gets even crazier and crosses over with yet another show, hope it's not too confusing :/
Spoilers: Spn - S4, DrWho - up to 4.16, TW - CoE
Summary: More guessed for the TARDIS party, and there are a few surprises for the heroes...
Note: This takes place between S4 and S5 - Supernatural, before 'The End of Time' - Doctor Who, and at the end of 'Children of Earth' - Torchwood.
I hope you enjoy :)
Previous Chapters: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8
Meanwhile, inside the TARDIS, location... the ocean??
John is soaking his feet, legs hanging out of the doors as he wonders how the Police Box is floating on water, wondering a lot of things about this weird box, but that’s the most prominent thought right now.
He takes a long drag from his cigarette, finishing it, and tosses it out into the sea before swinging his legs back inside.
He sighs heavily as he closes the doors and slumps back against them.
Dean won’t be pleased, he did it again…
He watches as Paul tries to teach their newest guest how to play ‘I wanna hold your hand’ on guitar, but Paul hasn’t got a clue what Beethoven’s saying, and he keeps gesturing what looks like a piano, which Paul is yet to find stashed away anywhere.
They picked Beethoven up in the last place they stopped, John assumes Germany. He’d been rather shocked when Paul leapt out of the Box at him, arms wide and grinning manically. But curiosity must have gotten the better of him, as he didn’t need much coercion to come inside.
The demon-eyed man is slouching lazily against the wall across the room, glancing at all the strange devises, flashing lights and switches, every now and then glancing at Paul, or John thoughtfully.
And John’s suspicious of the man, more so now than when he thought he was cheating at poker. Those eyes, red on black, seem more unusual than a Police Box that can apparently travel through time, and John doesn’t know what to make of them…
“So how come I’ve never heard of mutants before now?” John asks, rolling a fresh ciggy and the man doesn’t falter in the slightest at the abrupt, direct question.
He shrugs. “I don’ know, mon ami. Where I come from almost everyone knows about mutants,” he says, folding his arms across his chest.
“Strange,” John comments, holding the cigarette to his lips. “But then, I’m from Nineteen Sixty-four, so…” he trails off, and the man shrugs. “What was your name again?” John asks, as he’d not really been paying attention the first time he was told it.
“Remy Le Beau, but you can jus’ call me Gambit if you like,” he says with a roguish smile.
*
The room is almost painfully quite as the Doctor stands there, his body swaying slightly, his eyes clamped shut, and the empty Sontaran vessel at his feet.
When at last he opens his eyes they’re pure white and there’s a wicked grin tugging at his lips. Dean sets his jaw, readying himself for the fight he’d expected to have when he first encountered the Doctor, only now, the Doctor is his friend.
The Doctor blinks once and his eyes are completely normal again and he’s frowning.
He cocks his head to one side, a shiver visibly running down his body.
He shakes his head like a dog drying off a wet mane, and frowns at some distant, unimportant point across the room.
He jiggles his shoulders, rolling them back then forward, and back again.
He shakes his arms now almost waving them in the air, twisting his stomach from side to side at the same time until he starts jumping about, doing some strange dance that ends with him hoping on one leg.
His right foot is in the air twisting this way and that.
“Doc?” Dean asks, uncertainly.
“Hang on. I’m just trying to - Oh, cold, cold!” he says, shaking his foot harder and frowning deeply.
“Trying to…?”
“To channel the - No, hot! Ah!” He yelps, wobbling to one side when his foot thrusts forward suddenly, then he smiles. “Oh warm… that’s actually quite pleasant,” he says.
His expression turns distraught. “No cold! Definitely cold!” he yells, and at this point his converse flies off and knocks an Ood clean out a good few metres away.
The Doctor smiles crookedly. “Sorry,” he says. “Could have sworn I did my laces up.”
“Doctor? Jack hazards, and then asks the question on everyone’s lips. “Are you okay?”
The Doctor cracks a wide grin, straightening up. “Never better!” he says, before looking down at his bare foot with a thoughtful look in his eyes as he wriggle his toes. “Bare foot in a warehouse… hmm, not quite as good as on the moon…” he says distractedly.
He looks up, a determined look in his eyes. “You might want to burn that,” he says, pointing at his strangely smouldering shoe and then turns to the Captain and says, “Any way. Jack…” he gestures the doors with his head. “Allons-y!”
And with that he bolts out of the room past stunned demons and aliens alike, and with only one shoe on…
All eyes are on the double doors that are swinging in the wake of his exit, no one saying a word. And after a moment Jack shakes his head, and bursts out laughing. “You’ve got to love that Doctor,” he says not for the first time.
“He’s insane,” Dean offers up and Jack chuckles.
He makes a move to leave, but a thought visibly forms in his eyes and turning sharply, he grabs Sam by the collar of his jacket and kisses him full on the lips.
Sam looks stunned, his eyes wide, his fingers splayed out at his sides, unsure of what to do with them. Dean’s pretty sure he sees his brother relax in to the kiss too, and Dean doesn’t know whether to laugh or give them some privacy, not that that’s really possible at this point in time.
Jack pulls back just as abruptly as he started the kiss and smiles cockily at Sam. “In case this is good bye,” he says as an explanation, and Sam looks about to speak but closes his lips sharply and pays the ground some very close attention.
Jack turns a thoughtful eye on Castiel and then even Dean and Dean scowls at him. “Don’t even think about it!” he warns, and Jack just laughs again before saluting playfully and darting off after the Doctor, aliens and demons watching in stupefied silence, unsure of what they’re supposed to do with their boss apparently out of action.
Sam turns very slowly to look at Dean, his cheeks lightly flushed and one hand now held to his lips. And it apparently takes him another second to comprehend what has just happened as his eyes dart away again and Dean chokes back a snigger.
Sam clears his throat before changing the subject, his eyes now firmly on the Doctor’s shoe as he says, “Um, Dean? Is… Lillith… dead?”
Dean flexes his shoulders, readying himself to say, and except, yet another impossible fact. He knows is gonna sound utterly ridiculous, but it seems to be the only reasonable answer, so…
“Uh, well… She’s in a… shoe… I think. So… yeah. I assume she is. Maybe. Somehow.” He shrugs. Will the madness ever end? Dean sincerely doubts it.
“Got a match?” he asks, and only then does he notice that both the remaining Daleks have gone…
*
Meanwhile, the TARDIS, location... of he gives up...
Something is going on outside; John can hear noises. He quirks an eyebrow at Paul who shrugs, and gets poked in the arm by Beethoven for stopping midway through a verse of ‘Twist and Shout’. He’d been getting the hang of their songs now, thanks to the mysterious keyboard Paul uncovered beneath a sink, a sink that wasn’t there when he went to show John it afterwards as proof, proof that John smugly noted didn’t exist.
Remy shakes his head when John glances his way and shifts his weight so that he can get an unobstructed view of the door around the column that dominates the centre of the room.
Approaching the doors the sound becomes defined as talking and John can just make out the words being said.
“It’s bloody locked!” someone is saying loudly and irritably, the doors shaking slightly, the handles rattling. “Gladys, you got a key?” the voice demands and there’s a heartbeat of silence followed by, “Don’t call me Gladys, Guv. Or if that’s too hard at least limit yourself to only when we’re in the office.” This speaker is calmer than the other, but by the sound of his voice it’s clear this isn’t the first time he’s had to say that.
“Any way, we shouldn’t just leave him in here while you go have your lunch, it’s not professional,” the voice continues.
“Sod professional! I didn’t have breakfast this morning, I’m hungry!” the one possibly known as ‘Guv’ declares.
“I-I’m sorry, I won’t do it again, I promise! Please don’t lock me in there!” a third, frantic voice pleads.
“Quiet you! Or I’ll throw you in front of traffic.”
“You mean booze, Guv? Which to most, isn’t considered breakfast. And that’s not really an excuse either,” ‘Don’t Call Me Gladys’ says.
“Yes it is. Now hurry up and open the door.”
John opens it. But only enough to poke his head through, and he squints in the sunlight at the three men he finds there. “Hullo?”
“What the bloody hell are you doing in there?!” the larger of the three men - probably ‘Guv’ - says, as he yanks hard on the collar of a man handcuffed at his side and causes him to stumble forward. “I could arrest you for that, trespassing on police property is a crime y’know.”
“Sorry,” the leaner, ‘Don’t Call Me Gladys’ man says, nudging the other one aside slightly as he stands in front of him. “Ignore him.-“
“Oi! Nobody ignores me, Tyler!” the first man interrupts but is… ignored.
“I’m DI Tyler, and this is DCI Hunt,” he says gesturing the surly looking man with an irked look on his face. “What exactly are you doing here?” he asks and John shrugs. “I donno,” he says, and pushing the doors open fully he adds, “I don’t know where ‘here’ is,” And all three men stare into the Police Box, mouths falling wide.
“Tyler?!” DCI Hunt barks with a sharp intake of breath.
*
“Doctor, they’ve nearly broken through, and this gun doesn’t seem to do much to the ones being possessed. It barely slows them down at all,” Jack says as he watches an Ood-clad-demon trying to break through the Sonic-lock, salted and devil-trapped door.
Jack doesn’t exactly understand the logic behind rock salt and the supernatural but he’ll try anything if it’ll keep the monsters out.
“I’m working as fast as I can, Jack, this door’s had everything but a deadlock put on it. I suppose we should be thankful for that,” the Doctor says over his shoulder, his Sonic Screwdriver buzzing away at the doors many locks and hinges.
There’s a click and the Doctor opens the door with a satisfied huff. He locks it again once they’re through and Jack quickly salts it and draws another devil’s trap from the sketch Sam had done for him.
They pass through several more doors much the same, though they’re not so heavily secured as the first, which the Doctor in turn; makes sure is secure once they’re on the other side.
It’s not long before they find the room that houses the Rift Manipulator and there isn’t a demon or alien in sight, and the door isn’t even locked, but the reason for that becomes apparent…
“It’s full of radiation,” the Doctor says, his hands and face flat against the window in the door, staring into the haze filling the room beyond, the room they need to go into.
“What kind of radiation?” Jack asks as he flips open his wrist strap to see for himself.
“Every kind,” the Doctor says after a moment and Jack agrees, staring at the long list of toxins, radiation and gasses filling the room with the Manipulator.
“How can that room even contain so much radiation? It’s not like this place was built for it,” Jack asks. According to the readouts, the walls here are like any other warehouse’s walls, brick and steal, not lead lined or even particularly reinforced.
The Doctor grabs Jack’s arm and pulls it close so that he can see the tiny monitor himself, and Jack doesn’t mind at all, he’s just happy to have the Doctor’s hands on him and he thinks he hides his smirk quite well
“Blop?” the Doctor says thoughtfully. “I’ve not heard of Blop radiation. Blop, Blop, Buhhhlopuh, Blop Blop, funny word,” he say with a grin, and Jack’s defences instantly crumble and his smirk spreads right across his face, and he can’t help but laugh.
“Any way. It’s a pocket,” the Doctor starts to explain, disappointingly releasing Jack’s arm at the same time. “Time and space are splintering in localized areas… at the moment, that is.
“There are pockets everywhere, each enclosing what has slipped through, but they won’t stay the sizes they are for long. And this particular pocket just happens to fit inside this room.” He points a thumb behind him and shrugs.
“And just happens to contain the very thing we need to stop all of this too,” Jack adds with a sigh and the Doctor smiles thinly.
“Right,” the Doctor agrees.
He flaps his hands down against his sides, taking a deep breath and says, “I guess it’s time to save the Earth again.” And Jack doesn’t miss the underlying tone of uncertainty in the Doctor’s voice, and it makes Jack very nervous.
He grabs the Timelord’s wrist as he reaches for the handle and the Doctor’s expression is surprised as he turns back to look at Jack, but it quickly turns to determination as he says, “I need to get in there, Jack.”
“You’ll die!” Jack says, biting back the pain and desperation that has suddenly sprung to the foreground with saying those two words aloud.
The Doctor falters only slightly before saying, “I have to try!” And reaches again for the handle with his free hand and Jack snatches it up as well.
“No!” is all Jack manages to say, the other words momentarily lost from his tongue as he pushes the Doctor up against the door, pinning the Timelord’s hands either side of his head.
“I… can’t loose you, Doctor,” Jack almost sobs out as he holds back the emotion that’s threatening to engulf him.
Jack has lost so many people, too many to even bare thinking about. The Doctor is the one person that could always be there, should always be there, the one constant. And really, by extension, isn’t it the Doctor’s fault that Jack is the way he is? That he’ll never die? So isn’t the Doctor duty bound to stay with Jack? To stay alive for Jack?
No that’s not the reason, not the real reason why Jack needs the Doctor to be safe. Jack loves him, loves that geeky face of his, loves his tall, skinny frame, those unnecessary glasses, those wide brown eyes, that goofy grin.
Sure Jack had loved the Doctor’s previous incarnation, and would undoubtedly love every single subsequent one, and had he known the ones before, he would have loved them as well, but there’s just something about this one that Jack would miss more than any other. And then of course there’s the possibility that the Doctor might not be able to regenerate for some reason, and Jack just can’t let that happen.
“I’ll go,” Jack tells the Doctor with conviction.
The Doctor shakes his head and struggles against Jack’s grip. “No, Jack. You don’t know how much radiation you can take.”
“I’ll live,” Jack say, holding the Doctor firmer against the door. “I might die, but I’ll come back, I always do. You can’t say the same about yourself, can you?”
The Doctor looks down, something like defeat in his eyes and he stops struggling to free himself. “I’m not human, Jack, I can withstand a lot of radiation.”
The Doctor is clutching at straws, trying to sacrifice himself, undoubtedly wanting to save Jack, but Jack doesn’t want saving, not if it means losing the Doctor.
“But not this much.” Jack knows it’s true, he heard it in the Doctor’s voice, can see it in his eyes.
He’s seen that look before, the look that means the Doctor knows he’s going to die.
“You’ll have a limit, Jack,” the Doctor counters. “No one is completely invulnerable.”
“I’ll be fine,” Jack says, and taking a step into the Doctor’s space, he sets his jaw and adds, “But only if I know you’re safe.”
The Doctor visibly swallows. “Jack, I-“
“Promise me you’ll be safe.”
The Doctor’s lips move wordlessly and Jack pleads again.
“Please, Doctor. I need you to be safe. I need you to live. This life… Without you…” he lowers his head. “I just can’t.”
He loosens his hold on the Doctor enough for the Timelord to slip a hand free and it comes to rest on Jack’s cheek.
“Jack,” he says, tilting the Captain’s chin up and looking him in the eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he says and then wraps his arms around Jack’s neck, pulling him tight against his body and Jack grips the Timelord firmly to his chest. “I’m so sorry, Jack. Immortality is so… lonely,” he confesses and Jack only nods against his neck, his throat currently unable to form words beyond a sob.
“I’ll stay with you… If you want me to…”
Jack feels about ready so break with that sentiment, but somehow he manages to hold the tears back.
Even though Jack makes the Doctor feel weird to be around him and even though the TARDIS isn’t exactly happy with Jack existing the way he does, the Doctor would still stay with him. That’s the Doctor; always sacrificing everything for the good of others.
Jack takes a shallow step backwards and rests his hands on the Doctor’s shoulders to look at him without going cross-eyed. “Just stay safe for now,” he says, managing a smile. “And we’ll work out what comes later after I’ve turned this thing off, okay?”
The Doctor smiles softly. “Okay.”
“Y’know, Doctor. I just realised something.”
“What’s that?” the Doctor asks curiously and Jack tries to hide the smirk tugging at his lips.
He tightens his grip again as he says, “I’ve not kissed this face before.” And before the Doctor can say a word, Jack does just that, pinning the Timelord once more against the door.
Jack makes the most of this rare opportunity and runs his fingers through that mop of messy brown hair for the first time. A tiny sound of surprise escapes the Timelord’s lips and Jack smiles against them before making full use of the opening and pushing the kiss deeper.
Jack pulls back eventually and tries to conceal the lustful look he knows must be evident in his eyes as he stares at the faint blush rising in the Doctor’s cheeks. “I’ll definitely add that to the list,” he says still fondling the Doctor’s hair.
“Add what? What list?” the Doctor asks, a little breathlessly and Jack can’t help but feel smug about that.
Jack traces a finger down the Doctor’s jaw and rests his thumb against his lips. The Doctor’s blush deepens and his eyes falter to Jack’s lips for a second. “The list of reasons why I love you,” Jack explains.
*
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