After the Parting 9a/11
It's finally stopped morphing, but only because I finished it at last! And LJ is being a pain tonight so I need to post this in two parts.
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
Chapter 7: Honesty
Chapter 8: Revelations
Chapter 9: Parting Again
Going to see Harriet Jones?
Rose blinks. She hopes he’s got a flak-jacket.
Actually, she hopes he’s going to be able to rein in his temper.
“You’ll be good, right?” she asks anxiously, looking up at him. “You’re not gonna get her back up again?”
He looks taken aback. "You really think I'd do that? Nice conversation, cup of tea, a discussion! A debate, maybe, but nothing to upset her. Really. Trust me."
“Doctor.” She can hear the amusement in Jack’s voice. “I think we’ve both seen you do it enough times for it to be a legitimate concern.”
“Ah, but that was the me you knew then.” A bright smile curves across his face.
Jack shakes his head, disbelief written across his expression. And she rolls her eyes at him. “You might not insult us humans any more - much - but you still know how to piss us off. Jus’ ask Jack.”
His gaze falls on Jack, and she can see regret again. Yes, he was an idiot - though, to be fair, so was Jack, but then Jack was provoked. But he has apologised.
“Forget it, Doctor.” Jack’s smiling. “Think we both said stuff we regret.”
The Doctor nods, then swings around suddenly. “Console room. Places to go, people to see...”
He strides out of the room ahead of them. Rose, with a glance at Jack, follows. He falls into step beside her, and she almost finds herself reaching for his hand, before checking herself. It’s the Doctor’s hand she holds. Always was, even when Jack was with them before.
But she missed him, and she thought he was dead. It’s so good to have him back here. Even though it’s temporary and the Doctor says he can’t stay.
“Come on.” His arm lands loosely around her shoulders. “He’ll only complain if he thinks we’re too slow getting there.”
She moves closer to him, wrapping her arm around his waist as they walk. He’s leaving soon. She wants to enjoy having him around while she can.
In the console room, the Doctor is already in his accustomed place by the controls. “Jack!” he calls as they enter. “How much do you remember about flying the TARDIS?”
Jack grins. “Like riding a bicycle, Doctor. You never forget. Or, at least, I assume that’s what it’s like. Never actually rode a bicycle. They were rare museum pieces when I was growing up.”
The Doctor grins in response. “You’re a twenty-first century bloke now, Jack. You should give one a try some time. Just be careful of the crossbar.”
That makes her giggle.
“Right, then,” the Doctor continues as Jack joins him at the console. “Suppose we better get you back where you came from first.”
And the grin dies on her lips. Jack’s leaving now.
She hadn’t thought it’d be so soon. Had thought that maybe they’d have a few more hours together first, time to swap stories, catch up, just enjoy each other’s company for a while. The three of them, or just her and Jack if the Doctor was busy.
But he’s taking Jack back now. This is goodbye.
*******
Time to leave.
Well, it’s not as if he didn’t know it was coming. The Doctor said it: he has to go back to Torchwood. And, as he’s already admitted to himself, he probably wouldn’t have said yes to coming back here anyway.
He just doesn’t want to walk away just yet. Not now that he and the Doctor are finally back to the way things used to be. And not... well, leaving Rose will be a wrench.
Hell, leaving the Doctor will be a wrench. Nothing’s changed there. He’s still in love with both of them, after all.
Incredible to think that, after so long away from them, he still feels exactly the same way. For him, especially so. Hell, he doesn’t do relationships. Doesn’t do commitment. Doesn’t do love. Didn’t. Not until these two.
But this is why it’s far better for him this way. He coped before, hiding the feelings that developed, to his shock, over the couple of months he was with them behind his usual veneer of good humour, innuendo and charm. Now, it feels different. He’s just not sure he can do that any more.
Part of it’s that the last year and a half has been so damned hard. Not just the long hours, hard work, painstaking negotiations, constant danger of his work on the Earth of the future. Soul-aching loneliness, something he’d never felt before. Never even imagined he could feel. After all, he’s had plenty of experience with moving on, meeting new people, making connections.
Yes, he’d been lonely. Damn lonely.
But the other reason it’s just as well he’s not coming back is the changed dynamic in the TARDIS. It’s not that the Doctor’s changed. The past half-hour or so has shown him that behind the new face and the stupid, temporary hostility that they’ve now got over, his friend is still there. And he can forgive the stupidity - it’s not as if it’s something new that’s just arrived with this regeneration. The Doctor he knew was frequently prone to just the kind of stupid-ape behaviour he’d often bemoan in humans.
The changed dynamic between the Doctor and Rose; that’s what would make it too difficult.
How far it’s gone, he has no idea; but he knows what he interrupted in the kitchen. What he’s seen in the Doctor’s face since - Rose’s, too. And, although he always knew the Doctor loved Rose, in his previous form he never did anything about it. Never would have, Jack was convinced.
Now, clearly he’s not so troubled by scruples. Which he can feel glad about for Rose’s sake, but it does leave him playing gooseberry. And that he has no intention of doing.
Glancing across at the Doctor, he says, “Can you take me back pretty much to the same time as you took me? I wouldn’t want to have to explain to anyone who might have noticed I went missing.”
“Course.” The Doctor smiles. “Already got the co-ordinates set for about a minute after we left.”
“Jus’ as long as it’s the same day,” Rose comments, coming to lean against the console between them. “An’ the same year’d be good, too.”
“Oi!” The Doctor raises both eyebrows as he fixes her with an offended glare. Odd, how different the word sounds coming in a new voice. And how offence looks so different, too. This Doctor looks just like a chastised teenager, instead of the loftily superior being who’s revealing insult to his pride.
He’s leaving.
“Well,” he says, summoning all of the reserves of pride and charm and bonhomie he’s known for - the public face of Jack Harkness when he’s out to impress - “it’s been great seeing you guys again. For a time there, I never thought I would.”
“I didn’t realise you were going to cross timelines with us, or it’d have been sooner from your perspective.” The Doctor’s tone is apologetic, and the brown eyes are soft, his expression gentle.
“That’s time-travel for ya,” he responds casually. Though he feels far from casual. Is this really going to be a permanent goodbye? Possibly not; the Doctor does seem to end up on Earth in this time, in this country, rather a lot. It’s entirely conceivable that they’ll run into each other again, given the business they’re both in.
But those would be accidental meetings, if they happen at all.
“We’ll come and visit,” the Doctor says then, abruptly. “Don’t think this is goodbye, Jack. We’ll drop in from time to time. When you least expect us.” And he grins. “Maybe you can even take some time off every now and then and come with us for a few days. Not that you even need to take time off. Time machine, after all.”
He could. Maybe. Or maybe not.
Maybe a clean cut is best.
He shrugs. “You never know.” Non-committal; the best answer.
“Almost there,” the Doctor reports. He’s already aware of it. He’s seen it on the viewscreen.
He’s never forgotten the routine. Still knows exactly what switches to flip, levers to pull, buttons to press. The materialisation sequence begins. This is it.
Rose is trying not to look at either of them. She’s chewing her lip.
Hell.
He takes the couple of steps needed to bring him close to her, and hauls her into his arms. “It’ll be all right, Rose. We’ll see each other again,” he promises, all the while knowing that it’s a promise he’ll break if he can. “You heard him.”
“Won’t be the same, though.” She sniffs into his shoulder.
No. But nothing’s been the same since Satellite Five. Since they saw Rose apparently disintegrated in front of them, it seems. They’ve been ripped apart, put together only briefly, but always separated again. At first, Rose separated from him and the Doctor; then he separated from the two of them.
Which is right, he supposes; he has always known that the way the two of them love each other is special. Goes way beyond anything he’s ever known or will ever know.
And he’s relieved to see that nothing’s changed there with the Doctor’s new body. Rose will be fine. She’ll miss him, but she’ll get over it. She has the Doctor, after all.
He loosens his hold on her, catching her by the shoulders. Hesitates for a moment as he sees the Doctor watching them. But then decides that what the Time Lord thinks right now doesn’t really matter. He didn’t object earlier, in the kitchen, after all, when he kissed Rose to thank her for saving him.
Besides, how can he object to a goodbye kiss?
He slides one hand up to Rose’s jaw, caressing it. And lowers his head, capturing her lips with his. A farewell kiss.
It’s bittersweet, because it’s Rose and he loves her and her kisses are like sweet, sweet honey... but this is goodbye.
He makes himself end it, releasing her and stepping back.
Tears are running down her cheeks. He sighs silently and reaches to brush them away with his thumbs. “Goodbye, Rose. Don’t forget me, you hear?”
She nods. “Goodbye, Jack. Love you.”
God.
Again, he flicks his gaze briefly to the Doctor. The Time Lord’s gaze is averted from them. He’s not sure if the other man is giving them a few moments of privacy, or whether it pains or angers him to see them close like this.
But, still, he’s leaving so it hardly matters. Especially as he’s going to ask the Doctor, once out of Rose’s hearing, not to come back. “Love you too, sweetheart.” And he kisses her once more, briefly, before stepping away.
The Doctor’s moving away from the console, seeming to suggest that he’ll walk out with him. Good. That suits him.
Just by the doors, the Doctor stop and turns to face him. “Look after yourself, Jack. We’ll be back, like I said, but if you ever need us use your wristcomm, send us a signal. It’s still coded to the TARDIS’s frequency, isn’t it?”
“Guess so.” He glances at his wristband, surprised. Odd how he’d never once thought of that during that bleak, lonely year on the Earth of the future.
“Good.”
“Well, guess this is it, Doctor.” He forces a smile to his face. Should he offer his hand? Expect a hug? He hesitates. Let the Doctor take the lead.
Hands descend on his shoulders. “Last time we said goodbye I thought you had the right idea,” an amused voice says, before cool lips meet his.
A kiss from the Doctor, given willingly, initiated and not just received, like last time. Now that he’d never have bet on.
Very different from his kiss with Rose, but none the less poignant. Or memorable.
The Doctor raises his head, then wraps his arms firmly around him in an embrace. He’s far more touchy-feely in this new body. The old Doctor would never have done that. Probably would never have initiated the kiss, either.
He loved him then. He loves him now.
He steps back, pastes the smile on again and begins to formulate his request that they not come back to see him. Still standing close, the Doctor rakes a hand through his hair, dishevelling it.
Hand...
And he slaps his own hand to his forehead. “God! I completely forgot! Doctor, I have something of yours. You better come through to my office, okay?”
“You do?” The Doctor looks puzzled. “All right. Rose - ” He turns, and Jack looks back at Rose, too. She’s still standing by the console, watching them, seeming to be struggling to contain tears.
He looks away. She’s got the Doctor. He’ll take care of her. She’s happy with him.
“I’ll be back in a minute,” the Doctor continues. And he reaches for the door. In two steps, they’re back in his office again. And Rose is out of view.
*******
He follows Jack outside and pulls the TARDIS door almost shut. Rose is upset enough. She doesn’t need to see Jack through the open door, watch him return to what is now his life.
He hadn’t realised that leaving him behind would upset her so much. If there’d been a way...
But there isn’t. Jack has to stay here. The only question on his mind now is whether Rose should stay, too. Whether she wants to stay. Whether, any second now, she’ll come running through those doors and announce her decision to stay...
“Forgot to say,” he comments as he glances around the room, trying to put Rose, the image of her kissing Jack, sobbing on his shoulder, out of his mind. “Your desk will just stay behind when we leave.”
“Figured it’d be something like that.”
Funny how Jack seems to fit in these surroundings. The man he’d known before, the all-action guy in T-shirt and denim or leather trousers, tight-fitting to show off his muscular physique, always armed with at least one gun, ready with a joke or innuendo and a grin never far away, could never look at home in an office.
This new Jack does. It’s not just the slightly greyer hair, or the expensively-cut suit. It’s something about the man. He’s older, true, and seeming older in experience than he’s gained in years. Responsibility weighs heavily on him. And, too, as he took those few steps to take him outside the TARDIS it seems as if that weight has descended again.
A splash of black over by the door catches his attention. A jacket. A leather jacket. He can’t quite stifle a surprised smile. As he sheds the leather, Jack acquires it. He’s almost tempted to examine the jacket, to see if it in any way resembles his old one.
But he’s here for a reason, and he can’t stay long. As Jack pointed out, they could be interrupted. “So, you have something of mine?”
“Yeah.” Jack grins briefly. “I understand you lost a hand fighting the Sycorax leader?” And he glances at his sword-arm.
He looks at his right hand himself. “Actually, I’d forgotten all about that. Blimey! News travels fast.”
But how does Jack know? Stupid question. He seems to have had a few chats with Harriet. Suppose it came up there.
“It was found,” Jack explains. “Some concerned citizen reported it to the police. They made enquiries, trying to find out whose it was and whether it could be reattached. The security services found out - the fact that the hand was holding a sword attracted their attention. The news made it all the way to the Prime Minister’s office. And Harriet, of course, realised whose hand it was. So she had it retrieved from the police.”
He forces himself to remain calm. “With what in mind?”
“I’m not sure, really.” He studies Jack carefully. Is he covering up for Harriet? “I mean it,” Jack continues. “She had it sent here, with a request that we analyse it. DNA, blood type, molecular structure, anything.”
“And what was she intending to do with that information?” He’s getting angry again. But, really, this is his fault. He should have remembered about that hand. Should have done something about it himself. Leaving it there was putting far too much temptation into the hands of these people.
“Like I said, I don’t know,” Jack says. “But, anyway, although it wasn’t sent to me - it went straight to our lab - I heard about it. I had it brought to my office, with some excuse that I wanted to take a look myself first. And I just...” He grins. “Lost it in my files. And somehow managed to lose the paperwork, too.”
He blinks. Stares.
Even while Jack was furious with him, while he believed himself betrayed and abandoned, he did this. Protected him.
“Thank you,” he says, quietly but fervently. “I won’t forget this.”
Jack shrugs. “Too dangerous to let anyone loose on it. You are the last of your species, after all. I figured it’s up to you if you want anyone studying your DNA.”
“Yes.” His expression is grim. “So, where is it? You’re going to give it to me?”
“Sure.” Jack strides over to a cabinet. “I’d prefer to have it out of here, anyway. I can come up with an excuse for losing it, but I don’t want it being found. I’d have destroyed it, but... I don’t know, maybe I did think that some day I’d be able to give it back to you.” He shrugs one shoulder.
He returns, carrying a small box, which he places on a table. It’s a miniature freezer, the Doctor sees as soon as Jack opens it. And it’s his hand. All in one piece, cleanly severed at the wrist.
He nods. “Close it.” Jack does. “Now, stand back.”
Jack just watches as he takes out his sonic screwdriver, fiddles for a moment to get the correct setting, then aims it at the box.
There’s a fizzing sound, then a small explosion. And the box lies in tiny pieces on the table.
“Okay, that works.” Jack grins, rolling his eyes. “So, where’s the hand gone?”
“Vaporised.” And he grins in return. “Special setting. The ice helped.”
“Right.” Jack shakes his head a little. “Typical, leave me the mess to clean up...”
“It won’t take you long.” He meets Jack’s gaze again. The humour in the other man’s eyes vanishes, to be replaced with regret and resignation.
Another parting.
There’ve been so many over the years. He should be used to them by now, used to saying goodbye, knowing he won’t see them again.
But, somehow, it never seems to get any easier. Especially when they’ve managed to touch his hearts, as this man has. His comrade-in-arms, his equal in so many ways.
Younger than him by far, of course, brasher and sometimes with more confidence than he should have, far more courageous than he ever gives himself credit for. Yet at the same time so knowledgeable, so inventive, with the kind of scientific and technical wizardry that he excels at himself. Despite his initial sneering at Jack for taking ten minutes to override his own protocols, he’d quickly learned how capable he really is.
Always with such a joy and zest for life, too - Jack’s ability to find delight in everything around him was a real lesson to him in his ninth life. Rose taught him to live again, true; Jack taught him to enjoy it and be glad that he could.
Yet much of that zest seems to have vanished. It’s so noticeable now that they’re back in Jack’s office.
His fault? Was he wrong to leave Jack behind?
But he’d had no choice. He knows that. History required Jack’s presence in the future. Still, it’s changed his friend, and in ways he can only regret.
Just as he regrets this, their second and final parting.
This is goodbye, despite his earlier promise to visit. Because he can see in Jack’s eyes - could see it back in the TARDIS - that Jack doesn’t want him to.
“Right. I’ll be away, then,” he says. Keeps his voice as cheerful as possible. No point in making this any harder than it has to be.
Jack nods. “You take care of yourself, Doctor. And look after Rose, too.”
“I will. And you, Jack.” He hesitates for a moment, then adds, “I’ll bring her back to you one of these days, when she’s ready to leave me. That’s a promise.”
Jack doesn’t reply for a few moments. Then he nods slowly. “As long as that’s still what she wants.”
To embrace him again or not? But they said their goodbyes inside the TARDIS. Best to leave it at that.
“Bye, then,” he says, and walks quickly back into the TARDIS, without looking back. Closes the door behind him. Rose only marginally acknowledges him as he returns. She’s still scrubbing at her face, wiping away tears.
He strides to the console and sets the TARDIS in motion. Seconds later, the dematerialisation sequence is over, the desk has disappeared and they’re heading into the Vortex.
*******
to be continued in part b
x-posted to
better_with_3