Coming back to life always involves a remnant of the pain of the death. It can be the echo of a gunshot or the subtle burn of a stab wound. It could be the fizzle of an electric current or the crack of a broken bone
( ... )
The Doctor wasn't tired, though he wished he could sleep. He sat, leaning up against the cave wall next to Jack's regrowing form beneath his coat. It was getting dark over the treetops, and he didn't know how long the dark would last. He thought, for a moment, about creating a fire, something to keep Jack warm and keep the creatures from the forest out. But, more likely, it would just attract them to their makeshift encampment.
And the Doctor had to protect him. Somehow. Fat lot of good he'd been since they got here. No idea where they were or what was chasing them, up to the point where it ripped Jack in half.
Jack had been lying comatose for a very long time, so when Jack thrashed out, he was more startled than he possibly should have been. He caught Jack's hand and lowered it back to his chest.
In his fright Jack's fingers gripped tightly around the Doctor's hand and he looked up at him with a relief that was so strong it was almost tangible.
"Doctor!" he said his name, nervy and so so pleased that he was there.
"You didn't leave me," he said, relieved and still scared. "You didn't leave me."
He was sure he'd be alone. Sure of it even before he was killed. The Doctor wanted to get away from him and what more a perfect opportunity could have been offered up.
"You didn't leave me," he said again and brought his other hand over to cover the Doctor's, gripping it with both. "Thank you," he breathed. "Thank you."
The Doctor had a witty retort on the end of his tongue, something about not being able to leave because Jack had saved his life, or not being able to go without telling Jack how he wasn't half furious at him for disobeying his instruction---but Jack's frightened voice took all of the humor from him.
He held tight to Jack's hands and brought the other to cup the side of Jack's face. "I'm here. And so are you. Time's snapped you back."
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And the Doctor had to protect him. Somehow. Fat lot of good he'd been since they got here. No idea where they were or what was chasing them, up to the point where it ripped Jack in half.
Jack had been lying comatose for a very long time, so when Jack thrashed out, he was more startled than he possibly should have been. He caught Jack's hand and lowered it back to his chest.
"It's all right. I'm here."
Reply
"Doctor!" he said his name, nervy and so so pleased that he was there.
"You didn't leave me," he said, relieved and still scared. "You didn't leave me."
He was sure he'd be alone. Sure of it even before he was killed. The Doctor wanted to get away from him and what more a perfect opportunity could have been offered up.
"You didn't leave me," he said again and brought his other hand over to cover the Doctor's, gripping it with both. "Thank you," he breathed. "Thank you."
Reply
The Doctor had a witty retort on the end of his tongue, something about not being able to leave because Jack had saved his life, or not being able to go without telling Jack how he wasn't half furious at him for disobeying his instruction---but Jack's frightened voice took all of the humor from him.
He held tight to Jack's hands and brought the other to cup the side of Jack's face. "I'm here. And so are you. Time's snapped you back."
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