After the Parting 6/9
I think it may have stopped morphing...
Story: After the Parting
Author: WMR
Characters: Ten, Rose, Jack
Rating: PG
Summary: The Doctor and Rose are back together. Jack has a new job. But what happens when the Doctor finds out about Torchwood? A story in the same universe as the Earth to Ashes series.
With thanks to my lovely and much-valued BRs,
dark_aegis and
nnwest.
Chapter 1: Betrayal
Chapter 2: Confrontation
Chapter 3: Interfering
Chapter 4: Divided Loyalties
Chapter 5: Persuasion
Chapter 6: Thaw
“Jack! Stop that!”
Horrified, furious, she stares at him, then rushes to him, wanting to grab the gun from him. She’s just got the Doctor to agree to act like an adult, and now Jack’s wrecking it by going insane. Doesn’t he know he’s just going to make things far worse?
How could he do this? Pulling a gun on the Doctor? Does he really hate him that much now? And doesn’t he remember anything about the Doctor? Since when has he ever been intimidated by someone pulling a gun on him?
“Stay out of it, Rose.” With his free hand, Jack pushes her to the side, not roughly, but with determination. Which only makes her even more angry. And hurt.
“Jack, put down the gun.” The Doctor’s got to his feet, his expression surprisingly calm. “We both know you’re not going to use it an’ it just makes you look silly.”
The two of them lock gazes, Jack angry and aggressive, the Doctor faintly impatient and even a little amused.
And then, just as she’s about to make another effort to take the gun from Jack, the standoff ends. Jack rolls his eyes and shoves the gun back into his pocket.
She thumps him, hard. He looks down at her, and what she sees in his eyes makes her sigh. Her fist against his upper arm opens, turns into a brief caress. She’s still furious as hell that he just did that, but now she understands. He’s feeling trapped. Hurt. And rejected.
“Course you were never going to use it,” the Doctor says, moving to the counter. To her surprise, when he turns back he’s holding a mug. He takes it to the table and puts it down. “Cup of tea?” He waves Jack over. Jack actually comes.
She’ll never understand these two. They’ve just been locked in combat, and now they’re going to sit together and drink tea.
“If you’d been serious about making me take you back, anyway, you wouldn’t have threatened me,” the Doctor continues, taking a seat opposite Jack. “You’d have threatened Rose.”
She comes to sit between them, just in time to see Jack’s eyes flash. “Shows how little you know me if you think I’d do that to Rose.”
“Not to Rose; to me. You know me well enough to know how I react if someone threatens her. You’ve seen it.”
“Yes, I have.” Jack’s face is an expressionless mask, but there’s something in his eyes... “Apart from the fact that you of all people have to know I’d never hurt Rose, I remember the Anne Droid.” He stares straight at the Doctor. “If that’s really still you in there, you should know I couldn’t do that to you.”
The Doctor’s expression is unreadable. But she remembers the droid, all right. Remembers watching all those other contestants being disintegrated, terrified that it’ll be her turn before the Doctor managed to find her, remembers him finding her at last, just in time, running to him... and getting hit with the beam before she could get to him.
And only after that had she discovered that it was a transmat.
The Doctor - and Jack - had to have thought she was dead. And she can only imagine what they went through. Must’ve been bad if Jack, even in his anger with the Doctor, won’t do anything that would remind him of it.
Though given the way the Doctor kissed her just now, and told her that it’s something he’s wanted to do for a long time, she shouldn’t be surprised to hear that his reaction to thinking she was dead was... bad.
And that kiss... She’s still getting over the shock of it. And how earth-shattering it had felt. And the hint - was it more than a hint? - that he loves her.
“And yet that’s war,” the Doctor says matter-of-factly, and her attention switches back to him. “Use your enemy’s weaknesses against them.”
Enemy. Are they really enemies? How have they come to this? Does what Jack’s job is really matter that much? Can’t Jack ever forgive the Doctor for leaving him behind? Can’t they ever forget their sodding stupid pride and just talk to each other?
“You never used to be my enemy.” And Jack’s gaze drops to the table. He sounds weary now.
“No. You used to love me. I loved you, too.” The Doctor’s voice is soft, almost sad. They’re getting somewhere, at last. She holds her breath. There’s no way she’s going to interfere between the two of them right now.
But Jack’s eyes flash with anger. “Liar. You left me behind.”
And the Doctor sighs. “I had to.”
“Had to?” Jack echoes, disbelief and anger in his voice. But then he sighs and drags a hand down over his eyes. “Ancient history. Since when have I ever had problems putting the past behind me?” His expression is cynical now, his tone hard, almost brittle. “Too long since I got laid, that’s my problem.”
But she knows he’s only pretending not to care. She’s seen it in his face. These non-explanations and evasions have to stop. She’ll damn well make the Doctor tell him why.
Then Jack meets the Doctor’s gaze again. “Okay, so let’s get it over with. You’re obviously not going to take me back until you’ve got your pound of flesh, so go ahead.”
“That’s not what I want.” The Doctor leans back in his chair. “I just want to know why you did it. And, yes, how you can justify it. Because I want to know how I can stop your bloody planet from doing it again.”
“Why I did it?” Jack shrugs. “If it’s just about me here... I told you. I’m a soldier. I obey orders. It’s what I do. When I was with you, I obeyed your orders without question, remember?”
“You agreed with them.”
“Always? And what if I hadn’t? Remember when Margaret Slitheen had Rose and wanted me to give her the extrapolator? I looked to you for orders. You said yes. If you’d said no I’d have obeyed. I’d have hated you for it, but I’d have obeyed. In the heat of battle, you have to trust the person in command otherwise you’re all dead anyway.”
“Even if the person in command is wrong?”
“In that situation you can’t argue, Doctor. On Satellite Five, did I argue with you? You told me what you wanted me to do, and I did it. We went right into the middle of the Dalek fleet and I was there beside you.”
“With a force-field you created. We were safe enough.”
“That’s not the point. We were outnumbered. We hadn’t a hope. I trusted you all the way. I rounded up terrified non-combatants and turned them into cannon fodder for you, instead of trying to keep them safe, because that’s what we had to do. It’s what you needed me to do. And I didn’t question you when you wouldn’t let me take Rose, because you were in charge. Even when I knew that what you were doing was going to kill me too, if a Dalek didn’t get to me first, I trusted you. I followed your orders. Because that’s the way it has to be.”
The Doctor nods, his expression grim. Rose moves closer to him and grips his hand. This has to be hard for him; he always hates knowing that people died as a result of his actions. Even if the outcome is for the greater good.
He squeezes her hand in return, but he’s intent on Jack. “So you’d follow an order to kill someone who’s already surrendered and is retreating?”
“Why are you asking? You know I already did.”
“And you’re going to tell me you believe that’s right?”
“It’s not my position to question whether it’s right or wrong. It’s my job to follow the order.”
“Did you know the Sycorax were retreating when you fired that missile?”
A pause. Jack blows out a breath. “No. I didn’t know that until afterwards.”
“Then why didn’t you bloody tell me that before now?”
*******
It would have made a difference. It would have made him see Jack’s actions in a different light.
It would have made him see Jack in a different light. As still the man he once respected, liked... loved.
Okay, Jack gave them the weapon. Showed them how to use it. But, if he’s honest, he can’t blame Jack, or Torchwood, or even Harriet Jones, for that. People, countries, planets have to be prepared. Despite his own distaste for weapons, especially weapons of mass destruction, he’s used them himself when necessary.
Blowing up Ten Downing Street to wipe the Slitheen family from existence, for example. Or letting Ace use Nitro-Nine to get them out of sticky situations, kill a few Daleks, stuff like that.
Jack didn’t know the Sycorax were retreating. He’s not a murderer. That does make a difference.
“Because it doesn’t make any difference.” Jack looks him full in the eye. “Even if I had known, I’d still have followed the order. That’s the way it works.”
Disappointment slams into him again. “Even if you believe it’s wrong?”
“I didn’t say I believed it was wrong.”
He has to know. “Do you?”
Jack doesn’t answer immediately. After a while, he says, “Whether I do or not, there’s another point here. The time to argue with your commander isn’t when the order’s given. That’s mutiny. Treason. You do it later, when you’re not under attack, when you’re discussing strategy. That’s the time to raise the question of policy for future situations.”
Yes, he can see that. And knows, too, that had Jack ever refused to obey an order he gave in the middle of a tense situation he’d have thrown the ex-Time Agent out as soon as he got the chance. Because he can’t afford to have someone around that he can’t rely on.
Not that it ever happened. Jack was always reliable. Always there when needed. Always anticipating his instructions, and acting on them. The perfect right-hand-man.
Though Rose has questioned his instructions when she’s disagreed with him... But she seems to know when it’s important not to. When it’s essential to act first and ask questions later. Except when what he’s doing is for her protection rather than for the greater good.
He still wants to know Jack’s answer, though. “Do you believe it was the wrong order?”
“Still as persistent as ever, Doctor.” There’s even a faint smile on Jack’s face now.
“Okay,” he continues. “I’ll tell you what I think. I think you did your bit, Doctor. Dropped in, saved the world. Nice job. Congratulations. Problem is, what then? What happens after that? What do you always do? You leave again. What about consequences? What about what comes next? You’re never around for any of that. What if it doesn’t go as smoothly as you think? You’ve got it wrong before, haven’t you? Didn’t you tell me that Satellite Five turned into the Game Station because you just left without checking to see that things went right after you did your thing there? Yeah, the Sycorax ship was leaving. Who’s to say they’d have kept their word? Would you trust the Daleks if they surrendered and promised not to come back?”
The words stab at him as if they have taken physical form. Because it’s all true. How well Jack knows him. Knows his failings. His blind spots.
Consequences.
Something Blon Fel Fotch Pasameer-Day Slitheen had also accused him of ignoring. Though she’d just been trying to make him feel guilty about taking her to her death.
Still, she was right. As is Jack. Consequences are something he tends to avoid. Or not see unless they become impossible to avoid.
Yes, he failed to make sure that everything was all right on Satellite Five. But it’s worse than that. If Jack really wants to hold the Daleks over him, he should tell the other man about what happened in his fourth life. On Skaro, when the Time Lords commanded him to destroy the Dalek race before they were even born. He couldn’t reconcile it with his conscience, even knowing what the Daleks had done up to that point in his history.
Consequences. The greatest being the Time War. The destruction of Gallifrey, the extinction of the Time Lords. And, of course, all the other casualties. Then the return of the Daleks; the partial destruction of Earth, the deaths of everyone on Satellite Five. Including Jack himself, briefly.
Consequences. With the benefit of hindsight, would he have destroyed the Daleks?
Yet he hadn’t been able to launch the Delta wave, even with the knowledge of the Time War.
Though, even though it’s a reluctant acknowledgement, he sees a difference between his decisions and that made by Harriet Jones. He’s a self-appointed guardian of the Earth, the universe. No-one gave him that position - not even the Time Lords. No-one sets parameters for his role. Once, there were, but not any more - and even then he tended to ignore as many of those as he could get away with. No-one gets to judge him on what he does and doesn’t do. He can walk away any time he wants. The fact that he rarely does until he thinks a job is finished is his own choice.
Harriet Jones is elected. She is responsible to the people of her country. She has a constitutional duty to keep them safe. A duty she would be evaluated on, scrutinised on, by the customs, laws and parliament of her people. Though, from what he knows of Harriet, that won’t have been on her mind when she gave the order. It will have been the fact of her duty, the weight of the responsibility she feels to her country and its people.
Just as she felt it that day in Downing Street, when she took the decision out of his hands.
There’s consistency there. He just hasn’t realised it before.
Of course, too, her responsibility is only to this country, this planet. His, self-imposed though it is, is to the universe.
But does it matter? She still annihilated a retreating army. Even by Earth standards, protocols of war, that’s illegal and unethical.
Jack’s watching him, waiting for an answer to his question.
“No,” he says. “I wouldn’t trust the Daleks.”
“Then why trust the Sycorax?”
“Ancient rules of combat, Jack.” He rakes a hand through his hair. “They swore by those to abide by the outcome.”
“Yeah, right, Doctor.” Rose interrupts suddenly. “S’pose that’s why their leader tried to stab you in the back after you won an’ he promised to go away and never come back.”
“He did?” Jack’s attention has been caught by that. “And doesn’t that tell you the situation wasn’t safe?”
“By then it was.” Firmly, the Doctor continues, ignoring the objection. “I had to kill him. I made it clear that the planet was defended. That I am its defender. The job was done. Earth was safe.”
“No, Doctor. You just think that.” Jack is looking much more confident now. “And you should know better. Nine hundred years, didn’t you say? Never met an enemy that didn’t keep its word before?”
Before he can answer, Rose is talking again. “So is this what you do now, Jack? Shoot first, ask questions later? Just assume that no-one who’s different can be trusted? You’re fond of your guns, but I don’t remember you bein’ trigger-happy.”
“It’s not the same situation, Rose. I’m talking about defending the planet. Our planet.”
“Yeah, I get that,” she tells him. “But how do you know that every approach is hostile? What if it’s friendly? The way you and Harriet Jones are behaving, the Earth won’t make it to the 51st century. One of these days, Jack Harkness, you’re just going to vanish, you know that? Because between you you’ll have wiped out the future of the planet. And you won’t ever be born.”
Well said, Rose. Holding her hand beneath the table, the Doctor gives it a squeeze.
“You think I’d defend that kind of approach? Come on, Rose, you know me better than that. I know not all aliens are hostile - though I’ve been changing my mind about one alien.” And Jack gives the Doctor a sideways look. Not a glare, though. At least some of his anger seems to have dissipated.
And he is making a fair point here, too. Yes, of course he knows aliens. Some, intimately, of course. And of course he’d give others the benefit of that knowledge.
“Don’t say you agree with Harriet that I’m an alien threat?” He smiles just a little.
“I’d say the jury’s still out.” But there’s a faint twitch of Jack’s lips in return. Animosity definitely breaking down. And he realises he’s glad about it.
“So what approach would you advocate?” the Doctor asks.
“Information-gathering, to start with. Helps that I have first-hand knowledge of a lot of what’s out there. Torchwood’s got a pretty impressive database now of alien planets, races, cultures, languages, weaponry, ships, you name it. Put it this way, Doctor, if a plane invades your airspace without warning your reaction’s gonna vary depending on whether it’s Norwegian and not Syrian, right?”
He nods. That’s a fair point, as well.
“Then there’s the negotiation stage. Didn’t get us very far with the Sycorax. But at least Harriet tried, Doctor. Unlike other leaders who might have fired first and asked questions later. And who would say now that their way would’ve been better because no-one would have died. No humans, anyway.”
That’s also true. And it’s another reason why Harriet’s actions disappointed him so much. Because, once he’d been awake enough to be aware of what was happening, he’d known that she’d tried to negotiate a peaceful solution.
“That’s all fair enough, Jack, but she still gave the order to fire on a retreating army.”
“Yeah, and you can’t get away from that, can you, Doctor? Look, it was a judgement call. One of those split-second things. And I can tell you I’d hate to have been in her position. To fire or not to fire? To take their word that they wouldn’t be back? Come on - they were the aggressors here! They threatened to kill a third of the world’s population! If Earth had surrendered, they would’ve enslaved half the population. You really think they’re the sort of race whose word anyone could take?”
“That’s true,” Rose says before he can comment. Though he’s not sure what he would have said. Because that is a very fair point, rules of combat notwithstanding. “And, Doctor, you know what it’s like to be in that situation. You wouldn’t take Margaret Slitheen’s word that she’d changed. Or that she wouldn’t harm the Earth again. You were still going to take her back to Rax... Raxi... Oh, damn!” she muttered. “I used to be able to say that bloody name!”
“Raxicoricofallipatorious.” Both he and Jack say it in unison. And he’s unable to stop himself looking at the other man and grinning. Jack meets his gaze and suddenly the distant mask cracks and he’s grinning too.
And it’s as if they’ve never been apart. As if they’re back in the council chamber in Cardiff when Rose finally managed to say the planet’s name for the first time, or in the TARDIS laughing over one of the many jokes they shared.
It’s as if they’re friends again. And it feels good. So bloody good.
“Yeah, that,” Rose says. And she looks from one to the other of them and smiles too.
********
Damnit.
The Doctor’s getting to him. But not in the way he expected. Not in the way he was earlier.
Rose is right. The cold, icy man who’d first confronted him isn’t the real Doctor. This new incarnation has a much sunnier personality than his predecessor, and it’s showing. It’s been leaking through ever since he burst in with his gun, but now it’s in full blast. And he’s falling under its spell.
The Doctor he knew is still there - there’s so much of him in what this man’s saying - but the new man has a lot going for him, too.
He’s also pretty damn attractive, but that’s beside the point.
Their argument, too, isn’t antagonistic any more. They’re disagreeing, but it’s more of a debate than an all-out battle. The Doctor’s making some good points. He knows he is too. And he gets the impression that the Doctor’s actually listening, even if he isn’t agreeing.
“Jack.” The Doctor’s stopped grinning, but his expression is still relaxed, open, even friendly. Quite a change.
“Yeah?” It’s surprisingly easy - dangerously so - to drop the suspicion, the animosity. Not good.
“Sorry about earlier. The doors, I mean. Should’ve just told you we were in the Vortex.”
“Oh. Right.” And he actually finds himself almost smiling again, despite his anger earlier. His shock that the Doctor, a man he’d once thought he knew, he’d once thought had cared about him, could do that. “Yeah. Funny joke. Not. See if I come here again.”
And, just with that, the tension snaps back into place. He can feel it. All three of them still, look awkward. The Doctor’s expression is tight - not closed-off, the way he might have looked before, but uncomfortable, uncommunicative. And he knows he must look pretty much the same. Rose has caught her breath and she’s twisting her fingers, looking sad and anxious.
Stupid thing to say. They all know he’s leaving as soon as this discussion’s over. And that he won’t be back.
To cover up his faux pas - and because one apology deserves another - he says, quickly, “And I’m sorry I pulled the gun on you. You were right. I’d never have used it.”
“Knew that.” And the Doctor gives him a mischievous grin. Things seem to relax again.
And that’s dangerous. Because it’s too familiar. Brings back too many memories. The three of them, sitting around this table, shooting the breeze. Swapping stories, discussing their day, planning where to go next, or not even talking about anything in particular. Just being together, enjoying each other’s company.
It was fun. It was good. It was the best couple of months of his life. Nothing’s ever come close, either before or since. Not just because of the things they did - their adventures, the danger, the thrill - but because of them.
He’s always been a people person. Gregarious. Life’s no fun unless he’s around other people. Before, the more the merrier, and the more variety the better. Before his days in the TARDIS, he hadn’t hung around with the same people for more than a couple of days before moving on - not since the Time Agency. He was a moving on kind of guy. And, since there was always another planet, always another time, always another guy or gal, he never ran out of places to go or people to be with.
He’d thought that he’d get bored with the Doctor and Rose after a while. That maybe he’d stick around for a couple of weeks and then he’d get itchy feet and would start dropping hints about moving on. It’d never happened. Instead, they’d become his family. And he knows he’d never have left them willingly.
They would’ve had to push him out. Which, of course, is what happened.
And that’s why this - falling back into the old camaraderie - is dangerous.
Because he doesn’t belong here any more. And very soon he’ll be leaving again.
Time to move things along.
“So, Doctor. Anything else you want to talk about? Or is this pretty much over? Cause, you know, I kinda had a lot of work to do tonight, and I should be getting back...”
There can’t be anything more. They’ve talked and argued around the subject. The Doctor’s got over his fury, it seems. Maybe he still considers him a traitor or a murderer, but regardless, there’s less animosity. If what he wanted was to air his arguments, he’s done that. And it’s not as if there’s any resolution they can arrive at: they simply have to agree to disagree.
“Yes, there is one more thing.” The Doctor’s looking straight at him now. Those new eyes, brown instead of blue, are staring into his. Mesmerising.
“What’s that?”
“Something I want you to do, Jack.”
He frowns. Seems odd that the Doctor’s asking him to do something, given their argument. Given how the Time Lord seems to think of him now.
“Yeah?” He’s making no promises.
Still, the Doctor holds his gaze. “I trust your judgement when it comes to alien threats to Earth.” That’s a bit of a bombshell, after everything that’s happened tonight. “I don’t trust the judgement of those you have to answer to.”
Like Harriet Jones. Well, that’s no surprise. “So?”
The brown eyes still bore unblinkingly into his. There’s not a flicker of emotion anywhere in the Doctor’s face. “I want you to destroy Torchwood’s alien weapons capability. The ones that kill in massive numbers and indiscriminately.”
What is this? Every time he feels as if they’re taking a couple of tentative steps towards rebuilding their former friendship, something happens to make them take a step back again. The Doctor does something to undo the progress they’ve made. And this is just the latest. What the hell does the Doctor think he is?
“I can’t do that.” Cool, uncompromising, he makes his position clear.
“You said you follow orders. Those are my orders, Captain.”
*******
tbc
x-posted to
better_with_3
Story: After the Parting
Author: WMR
Characters: Ten, Rose, Jack
Rating: PG
Summary: The Doctor and Rose are back together. Jack has a new job. But what happens when the Doctor finds out about Torchwood? A story in the same universe as the Earth to Ashes series.
With thanks to my lovely and much-valued BRs,
dark_aegis and
nnwest.
Chapter 1: Betrayal
Chapter 2: Confrontation
Chapter 3: Interfering
Chapter 4: Divided Loyalties
Chapter 5: Persuasion
Chapter 6: Thaw
“Jack! Stop that!”
Horrified, furious, she stares at him, then rushes to him, wanting to grab the gun from him. She’s just got the Doctor to agree to act like an adult, and now Jack’s wrecking it by going insane. Doesn’t he know he’s just going to make things far worse?
How could he do this? Pulling a gun on the Doctor? Does he really hate him that much now? And doesn’t he remember anything about the Doctor? Since when has he ever been intimidated by someone pulling a gun on him?
“Stay out of it, Rose.” With his free hand, Jack pushes her to the side, not roughly, but with determination. Which only makes her even more angry. And hurt.
“Jack, put down the gun.” The Doctor’s got to his feet, his expression surprisingly calm. “We both know you’re not going to use it an’ it just makes you look silly.”
The two of them lock gazes, Jack angry and aggressive, the Doctor faintly impatient and even a little amused.
And then, just as she’s about to make another effort to take the gun from Jack, the standoff ends. Jack rolls his eyes and shoves the gun back into his pocket.
She thumps him, hard. He looks down at her, and what she sees in his eyes makes her sigh. Her fist against his upper arm opens, turns into a brief caress. She’s still furious as hell that he just did that, but now she understands. He’s feeling trapped. Hurt. And rejected.
“Course you were never going to use it,” the Doctor says, moving to the counter. To her surprise, when he turns back he’s holding a mug. He takes it to the table and puts it down. “Cup of tea?” He waves Jack over. Jack actually comes.
She’ll never understand these two. They’ve just been locked in combat, and now they’re going to sit together and drink tea.
“If you’d been serious about making me take you back, anyway, you wouldn’t have threatened me,” the Doctor continues, taking a seat opposite Jack. “You’d have threatened Rose.”
She comes to sit between them, just in time to see Jack’s eyes flash. “Shows how little you know me if you think I’d do that to Rose.”
“Not to Rose; to me. You know me well enough to know how I react if someone threatens her. You’ve seen it.”
“Yes, I have.” Jack’s face is an expressionless mask, but there’s something in his eyes... “Apart from the fact that you of all people have to know I’d never hurt Rose, I remember the Anne Droid.” He stares straight at the Doctor. “If that’s really still you in there, you should know I couldn’t do that to you.”
The Doctor’s expression is unreadable. But she remembers the droid, all right. Remembers watching all those other contestants being disintegrated, terrified that it’ll be her turn before the Doctor managed to find her, remembers him finding her at last, just in time, running to him... and getting hit with the beam before she could get to him.
And only after that had she discovered that it was a transmat.
The Doctor - and Jack - had to have thought she was dead. And she can only imagine what they went through. Must’ve been bad if Jack, even in his anger with the Doctor, won’t do anything that would remind him of it.
Though given the way the Doctor kissed her just now, and told her that it’s something he’s wanted to do for a long time, she shouldn’t be surprised to hear that his reaction to thinking she was dead was... bad.
And that kiss... She’s still getting over the shock of it. And how earth-shattering it had felt. And the hint - was it more than a hint? - that he loves her.
“And yet that’s war,” the Doctor says matter-of-factly, and her attention switches back to him. “Use your enemy’s weaknesses against them.”
Enemy. Are they really enemies? How have they come to this? Does what Jack’s job is really matter that much? Can’t Jack ever forgive the Doctor for leaving him behind? Can’t they ever forget their sodding stupid pride and just talk to each other?
“You never used to be my enemy.” And Jack’s gaze drops to the table. He sounds weary now.
“No. You used to love me. I loved you, too.” The Doctor’s voice is soft, almost sad. They’re getting somewhere, at last. She holds her breath. There’s no way she’s going to interfere between the two of them right now.
But Jack’s eyes flash with anger. “Liar. You left me behind.”
And the Doctor sighs. “I had to.”
“Had to?” Jack echoes, disbelief and anger in his voice. But then he sighs and drags a hand down over his eyes. “Ancient history. Since when have I ever had problems putting the past behind me?” His expression is cynical now, his tone hard, almost brittle. “Too long since I got laid, that’s my problem.”
But she knows he’s only pretending not to care. She’s seen it in his face. These non-explanations and evasions have to stop. She’ll damn well make the Doctor tell him why.
Then Jack meets the Doctor’s gaze again. “Okay, so let’s get it over with. You’re obviously not going to take me back until you’ve got your pound of flesh, so go ahead.”
“That’s not what I want.” The Doctor leans back in his chair. “I just want to know why you did it. And, yes, how you can justify it. Because I want to know how I can stop your bloody planet from doing it again.”
“Why I did it?” Jack shrugs. “If it’s just about me here... I told you. I’m a soldier. I obey orders. It’s what I do. When I was with you, I obeyed your orders without question, remember?”
“You agreed with them.”
“Always? And what if I hadn’t? Remember when Margaret Slitheen had Rose and wanted me to give her the extrapolator? I looked to you for orders. You said yes. If you’d said no I’d have obeyed. I’d have hated you for it, but I’d have obeyed. In the heat of battle, you have to trust the person in command otherwise you’re all dead anyway.”
“Even if the person in command is wrong?”
“In that situation you can’t argue, Doctor. On Satellite Five, did I argue with you? You told me what you wanted me to do, and I did it. We went right into the middle of the Dalek fleet and I was there beside you.”
“With a force-field you created. We were safe enough.”
“That’s not the point. We were outnumbered. We hadn’t a hope. I trusted you all the way. I rounded up terrified non-combatants and turned them into cannon fodder for you, instead of trying to keep them safe, because that’s what we had to do. It’s what you needed me to do. And I didn’t question you when you wouldn’t let me take Rose, because you were in charge. Even when I knew that what you were doing was going to kill me too, if a Dalek didn’t get to me first, I trusted you. I followed your orders. Because that’s the way it has to be.”
The Doctor nods, his expression grim. Rose moves closer to him and grips his hand. This has to be hard for him; he always hates knowing that people died as a result of his actions. Even if the outcome is for the greater good.
He squeezes her hand in return, but he’s intent on Jack. “So you’d follow an order to kill someone who’s already surrendered and is retreating?”
“Why are you asking? You know I already did.”
“And you’re going to tell me you believe that’s right?”
“It’s not my position to question whether it’s right or wrong. It’s my job to follow the order.”
“Did you know the Sycorax were retreating when you fired that missile?”
A pause. Jack blows out a breath. “No. I didn’t know that until afterwards.”
“Then why didn’t you bloody tell me that before now?”
*******
It would have made a difference. It would have made him see Jack’s actions in a different light.
It would have made him see Jack in a different light. As still the man he once respected, liked... loved.
Okay, Jack gave them the weapon. Showed them how to use it. But, if he’s honest, he can’t blame Jack, or Torchwood, or even Harriet Jones, for that. People, countries, planets have to be prepared. Despite his own distaste for weapons, especially weapons of mass destruction, he’s used them himself when necessary.
Blowing up Ten Downing Street to wipe the Slitheen family from existence, for example. Or letting Ace use Nitro-Nine to get them out of sticky situations, kill a few Daleks, stuff like that.
Jack didn’t know the Sycorax were retreating. He’s not a murderer. That does make a difference.
“Because it doesn’t make any difference.” Jack looks him full in the eye. “Even if I had known, I’d still have followed the order. That’s the way it works.”
Disappointment slams into him again. “Even if you believe it’s wrong?”
“I didn’t say I believed it was wrong.”
He has to know. “Do you?”
Jack doesn’t answer immediately. After a while, he says, “Whether I do or not, there’s another point here. The time to argue with your commander isn’t when the order’s given. That’s mutiny. Treason. You do it later, when you’re not under attack, when you’re discussing strategy. That’s the time to raise the question of policy for future situations.”
Yes, he can see that. And knows, too, that had Jack ever refused to obey an order he gave in the middle of a tense situation he’d have thrown the ex-Time Agent out as soon as he got the chance. Because he can’t afford to have someone around that he can’t rely on.
Not that it ever happened. Jack was always reliable. Always there when needed. Always anticipating his instructions, and acting on them. The perfect right-hand-man.
Though Rose has questioned his instructions when she’s disagreed with him... But she seems to know when it’s important not to. When it’s essential to act first and ask questions later. Except when what he’s doing is for her protection rather than for the greater good.
He still wants to know Jack’s answer, though. “Do you believe it was the wrong order?”
“Still as persistent as ever, Doctor.” There’s even a faint smile on Jack’s face now.
“Okay,” he continues. “I’ll tell you what I think. I think you did your bit, Doctor. Dropped in, saved the world. Nice job. Congratulations. Problem is, what then? What happens after that? What do you always do? You leave again. What about consequences? What about what comes next? You’re never around for any of that. What if it doesn’t go as smoothly as you think? You’ve got it wrong before, haven’t you? Didn’t you tell me that Satellite Five turned into the Game Station because you just left without checking to see that things went right after you did your thing there? Yeah, the Sycorax ship was leaving. Who’s to say they’d have kept their word? Would you trust the Daleks if they surrendered and promised not to come back?”
The words stab at him as if they have taken physical form. Because it’s all true. How well Jack knows him. Knows his failings. His blind spots.
Consequences.
Something Blon Fel Fotch Pasameer-Day Slitheen had also accused him of ignoring. Though she’d just been trying to make him feel guilty about taking her to her death.
Still, she was right. As is Jack. Consequences are something he tends to avoid. Or not see unless they become impossible to avoid.
Yes, he failed to make sure that everything was all right on Satellite Five. But it’s worse than that. If Jack really wants to hold the Daleks over him, he should tell the other man about what happened in his fourth life. On Skaro, when the Time Lords commanded him to destroy the Dalek race before they were even born. He couldn’t reconcile it with his conscience, even knowing what the Daleks had done up to that point in his history.
Consequences. The greatest being the Time War. The destruction of Gallifrey, the extinction of the Time Lords. And, of course, all the other casualties. Then the return of the Daleks; the partial destruction of Earth, the deaths of everyone on Satellite Five. Including Jack himself, briefly.
Consequences. With the benefit of hindsight, would he have destroyed the Daleks?
Yet he hadn’t been able to launch the Delta wave, even with the knowledge of the Time War.
Though, even though it’s a reluctant acknowledgement, he sees a difference between his decisions and that made by Harriet Jones. He’s a self-appointed guardian of the Earth, the universe. No-one gave him that position - not even the Time Lords. No-one sets parameters for his role. Once, there were, but not any more - and even then he tended to ignore as many of those as he could get away with. No-one gets to judge him on what he does and doesn’t do. He can walk away any time he wants. The fact that he rarely does until he thinks a job is finished is his own choice.
Harriet Jones is elected. She is responsible to the people of her country. She has a constitutional duty to keep them safe. A duty she would be evaluated on, scrutinised on, by the customs, laws and parliament of her people. Though, from what he knows of Harriet, that won’t have been on her mind when she gave the order. It will have been the fact of her duty, the weight of the responsibility she feels to her country and its people.
Just as she felt it that day in Downing Street, when she took the decision out of his hands.
There’s consistency there. He just hasn’t realised it before.
Of course, too, her responsibility is only to this country, this planet. His, self-imposed though it is, is to the universe.
But does it matter? She still annihilated a retreating army. Even by Earth standards, protocols of war, that’s illegal and unethical.
Jack’s watching him, waiting for an answer to his question.
“No,” he says. “I wouldn’t trust the Daleks.”
“Then why trust the Sycorax?”
“Ancient rules of combat, Jack.” He rakes a hand through his hair. “They swore by those to abide by the outcome.”
“Yeah, right, Doctor.” Rose interrupts suddenly. “S’pose that’s why their leader tried to stab you in the back after you won an’ he promised to go away and never come back.”
“He did?” Jack’s attention has been caught by that. “And doesn’t that tell you the situation wasn’t safe?”
“By then it was.” Firmly, the Doctor continues, ignoring the objection. “I had to kill him. I made it clear that the planet was defended. That I am its defender. The job was done. Earth was safe.”
“No, Doctor. You just think that.” Jack is looking much more confident now. “And you should know better. Nine hundred years, didn’t you say? Never met an enemy that didn’t keep its word before?”
Before he can answer, Rose is talking again. “So is this what you do now, Jack? Shoot first, ask questions later? Just assume that no-one who’s different can be trusted? You’re fond of your guns, but I don’t remember you bein’ trigger-happy.”
“It’s not the same situation, Rose. I’m talking about defending the planet. Our planet.”
“Yeah, I get that,” she tells him. “But how do you know that every approach is hostile? What if it’s friendly? The way you and Harriet Jones are behaving, the Earth won’t make it to the 51st century. One of these days, Jack Harkness, you’re just going to vanish, you know that? Because between you you’ll have wiped out the future of the planet. And you won’t ever be born.”
Well said, Rose. Holding her hand beneath the table, the Doctor gives it a squeeze.
“You think I’d defend that kind of approach? Come on, Rose, you know me better than that. I know not all aliens are hostile - though I’ve been changing my mind about one alien.” And Jack gives the Doctor a sideways look. Not a glare, though. At least some of his anger seems to have dissipated.
And he is making a fair point here, too. Yes, of course he knows aliens. Some, intimately, of course. And of course he’d give others the benefit of that knowledge.
“Don’t say you agree with Harriet that I’m an alien threat?” He smiles just a little.
“I’d say the jury’s still out.” But there’s a faint twitch of Jack’s lips in return. Animosity definitely breaking down. And he realises he’s glad about it.
“So what approach would you advocate?” the Doctor asks.
“Information-gathering, to start with. Helps that I have first-hand knowledge of a lot of what’s out there. Torchwood’s got a pretty impressive database now of alien planets, races, cultures, languages, weaponry, ships, you name it. Put it this way, Doctor, if a plane invades your airspace without warning your reaction’s gonna vary depending on whether it’s Norwegian and not Syrian, right?”
He nods. That’s a fair point, as well.
“Then there’s the negotiation stage. Didn’t get us very far with the Sycorax. But at least Harriet tried, Doctor. Unlike other leaders who might have fired first and asked questions later. And who would say now that their way would’ve been better because no-one would have died. No humans, anyway.”
That’s also true. And it’s another reason why Harriet’s actions disappointed him so much. Because, once he’d been awake enough to be aware of what was happening, he’d known that she’d tried to negotiate a peaceful solution.
“That’s all fair enough, Jack, but she still gave the order to fire on a retreating army.”
“Yeah, and you can’t get away from that, can you, Doctor? Look, it was a judgement call. One of those split-second things. And I can tell you I’d hate to have been in her position. To fire or not to fire? To take their word that they wouldn’t be back? Come on - they were the aggressors here! They threatened to kill a third of the world’s population! If Earth had surrendered, they would’ve enslaved half the population. You really think they’re the sort of race whose word anyone could take?”
“That’s true,” Rose says before he can comment. Though he’s not sure what he would have said. Because that is a very fair point, rules of combat notwithstanding. “And, Doctor, you know what it’s like to be in that situation. You wouldn’t take Margaret Slitheen’s word that she’d changed. Or that she wouldn’t harm the Earth again. You were still going to take her back to Rax... Raxi... Oh, damn!” she muttered. “I used to be able to say that bloody name!”
“Raxicoricofallipatorious.” Both he and Jack say it in unison. And he’s unable to stop himself looking at the other man and grinning. Jack meets his gaze and suddenly the distant mask cracks and he’s grinning too.
And it’s as if they’ve never been apart. As if they’re back in the council chamber in Cardiff when Rose finally managed to say the planet’s name for the first time, or in the TARDIS laughing over one of the many jokes they shared.
It’s as if they’re friends again. And it feels good. So bloody good.
“Yeah, that,” Rose says. And she looks from one to the other of them and smiles too.
********
Damnit.
The Doctor’s getting to him. But not in the way he expected. Not in the way he was earlier.
Rose is right. The cold, icy man who’d first confronted him isn’t the real Doctor. This new incarnation has a much sunnier personality than his predecessor, and it’s showing. It’s been leaking through ever since he burst in with his gun, but now it’s in full blast. And he’s falling under its spell.
The Doctor he knew is still there - there’s so much of him in what this man’s saying - but the new man has a lot going for him, too.
He’s also pretty damn attractive, but that’s beside the point.
Their argument, too, isn’t antagonistic any more. They’re disagreeing, but it’s more of a debate than an all-out battle. The Doctor’s making some good points. He knows he is too. And he gets the impression that the Doctor’s actually listening, even if he isn’t agreeing.
“Jack.” The Doctor’s stopped grinning, but his expression is still relaxed, open, even friendly. Quite a change.
“Yeah?” It’s surprisingly easy - dangerously so - to drop the suspicion, the animosity. Not good.
“Sorry about earlier. The doors, I mean. Should’ve just told you we were in the Vortex.”
“Oh. Right.” And he actually finds himself almost smiling again, despite his anger earlier. His shock that the Doctor, a man he’d once thought he knew, he’d once thought had cared about him, could do that. “Yeah. Funny joke. Not. See if I come here again.”
And, just with that, the tension snaps back into place. He can feel it. All three of them still, look awkward. The Doctor’s expression is tight - not closed-off, the way he might have looked before, but uncomfortable, uncommunicative. And he knows he must look pretty much the same. Rose has caught her breath and she’s twisting her fingers, looking sad and anxious.
Stupid thing to say. They all know he’s leaving as soon as this discussion’s over. And that he won’t be back.
To cover up his faux pas - and because one apology deserves another - he says, quickly, “And I’m sorry I pulled the gun on you. You were right. I’d never have used it.”
“Knew that.” And the Doctor gives him a mischievous grin. Things seem to relax again.
And that’s dangerous. Because it’s too familiar. Brings back too many memories. The three of them, sitting around this table, shooting the breeze. Swapping stories, discussing their day, planning where to go next, or not even talking about anything in particular. Just being together, enjoying each other’s company.
It was fun. It was good. It was the best couple of months of his life. Nothing’s ever come close, either before or since. Not just because of the things they did - their adventures, the danger, the thrill - but because of them.
He’s always been a people person. Gregarious. Life’s no fun unless he’s around other people. Before, the more the merrier, and the more variety the better. Before his days in the TARDIS, he hadn’t hung around with the same people for more than a couple of days before moving on - not since the Time Agency. He was a moving on kind of guy. And, since there was always another planet, always another time, always another guy or gal, he never ran out of places to go or people to be with.
He’d thought that he’d get bored with the Doctor and Rose after a while. That maybe he’d stick around for a couple of weeks and then he’d get itchy feet and would start dropping hints about moving on. It’d never happened. Instead, they’d become his family. And he knows he’d never have left them willingly.
They would’ve had to push him out. Which, of course, is what happened.
And that’s why this - falling back into the old camaraderie - is dangerous.
Because he doesn’t belong here any more. And very soon he’ll be leaving again.
Time to move things along.
“So, Doctor. Anything else you want to talk about? Or is this pretty much over? Cause, you know, I kinda had a lot of work to do tonight, and I should be getting back...”
There can’t be anything more. They’ve talked and argued around the subject. The Doctor’s got over his fury, it seems. Maybe he still considers him a traitor or a murderer, but regardless, there’s less animosity. If what he wanted was to air his arguments, he’s done that. And it’s not as if there’s any resolution they can arrive at: they simply have to agree to disagree.
“Yes, there is one more thing.” The Doctor’s looking straight at him now. Those new eyes, brown instead of blue, are staring into his. Mesmerising.
“What’s that?”
“Something I want you to do, Jack.”
He frowns. Seems odd that the Doctor’s asking him to do something, given their argument. Given how the Time Lord seems to think of him now.
“Yeah?” He’s making no promises.
Still, the Doctor holds his gaze. “I trust your judgement when it comes to alien threats to Earth.” That’s a bit of a bombshell, after everything that’s happened tonight. “I don’t trust the judgement of those you have to answer to.”
Like Harriet Jones. Well, that’s no surprise. “So?”
The brown eyes still bore unblinkingly into his. There’s not a flicker of emotion anywhere in the Doctor’s face. “I want you to destroy Torchwood’s alien weapons capability. The ones that kill in massive numbers and indiscriminately.”
What is this? Every time he feels as if they’re taking a couple of tentative steps towards rebuilding their former friendship, something happens to make them take a step back again. The Doctor does something to undo the progress they’ve made. And this is just the latest. What the hell does the Doctor think he is?
“I can’t do that.” Cool, uncompromising, he makes his position clear.
“You said you follow orders. Those are my orders, Captain.”
*******
tbc
x-posted to
better_with_3