Cheating Time, by Gillian Taylor and WMR; 9/9 FINAL
Story: Cheating Time
Authors: dark_aegis and wendymr
Characters: Tenth Doctor, Rose Tyler, Jack Harkness, others
Rated: PG13
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, no matter how much we beg, they're still not ours...
Summary: He's saved the universe over and over again. He's lost everything, including his own race. Doesn't the universe owe him something in return?
With thanks and hugs to nnwest and chloe_az for BRing.
Chapter 1: The Lure of Temptation | Chapter 2: A False Sense of Security | Chapter 3: Home to Roost | Chapter 4: Consequences ( part a | part b) | Chapter 5: Armageddon | Chapter 6: Running out of Time | Chapter 7: Goodbye | Chapter 8: Keeping Promises
Chapter 9: The Story Changes
The Doctor feels the weight of her regard as he closes the TARDIS doors behind them. She's suspicious. That much is obvious from her earlier comments, her earlier reluctance to go with him. But she's clever, his Rose. She's learned enough from him to realise that he's playing a dangerous game.
This game, however, is one that he intends to win. No casual toying with time this go around. Nope, this is one straight out of the Celestial Intervention Agency's training manuals. Already, he's sensing a phantom timeline trying to overwrite his own. But the changes are subtle, so very subtle, that it'll work. By Rassilon, it is working.
"Well?"
Apparently he isn't answering her unspoken questions quickly enough. There's one way of eliminating what's bound to be hours of explanation. He's about to tell her the trigger when she steps closer to him, invading his space. He can smell her shampoo, feel her warmth, and it's all he can do not to reach out for her, to bring her close, to kiss her again.
"What've you done?" she asks.
"Changed the story," he repeats. "It's a motto, actually. The story changes, but the ending stays the same. Seems that's one thing the Time Agency and the Celestial Intervention Agency share. Never would've thought of it without Jack…"
"Jack! He was out there! Doctor, he's alive an' you kept me-"
He interrupts her with the words of the trigger, not wanting to go through this for a second time. "And I suppose... if it's one last chance to say it... Rose Tyler."
"Me too," she replies, almost dreamily. "Oh my god. Doctor!" Knowledge fills her eyes as she stares at him, astonished. "What've you done?"
"It's okay, Rose. Really! This is what's supposed to happen," he says, certain in this knowledge thanks to what's happening in this present, his past. Somewhere outside the TARDIS doors, his new memories are telling him, Jack is in the lever room with his past self. The breach is being closed. Pete Tyler no longer appears - because the breach is closed sooner, or because he’s no longer necessary to events? No matter; it’s how it needs to be.
Changing the story. It's brilliant, really.
"I thought you said you lost me," she says, wincing as she reaches up to touch her forehead. "It's so jumbled up in here. You sent me away to be safe. That's how you lost me, isn't it?"
"Yes."
"So I was meant to be stuck there?" At his nod, she hits his shoulder with the back of her hand. "You git! I made my choice an' I was going to stay with you. But you jus' were gonna leave me there!"
"It was safe," he protests weakly.
"Sod safe!" She pokes his chest with her finger. "You're not doing that to me again, got it?"
He opens his mouth and closes it again, unable to make that promise. To keep her safe, he'd do anything. Anything but lose her permanently again. Anything short of damaging time or the universe, though. He’s learned that particular lesson.
She heaves out a heavy sigh. "Fine. But tell me how this is gonna be different. How d'you know that we're not going to walk out those doors in a month an' not have a Dalek staring back at us?"
"Oh, now that's simple. Very, very simple. I'm not alone, Rose. I've got Jack." He grins at her, now letting himself reach out and touch her cheek. "The breach'll be sealed. The ending is the same, Rose. Don't you see how brilliant that is?"
"You didn't lose me, though. I'm still here."
"Ah, but I did, Rose. For all the past me knows, you're still stuck in an alternate dimension and I didn't even get to tell you why or even to say goodbye," he replies. "Everything'll work out the same. The bride, Martha Jones, Jack and the Master. That hasn't changed." He knows, because he sees it. The timelines in his head are clear.
She gives him a searching look, but now he can see hope kindling in her eyes. "You mean it's okay? I can stay?"
His grin softens to a gentle smile. "If you like."
"Don't be daft. Of course I do!" Rose seals those particular words with an enthusiastic kiss.
It's only been a few hours since they last did this, but that was before they said goodbye. This, though. This is so much better. He always did like hellos.
When the kiss breaks, he wraps her in an embrace, holding her close. He gets to do this as much as he wants now, doesn't he? She's here and she's his.
She's his.
He feels almost giddy with the knowledge and when he feels her sniffle against him, it's as sobering as a dousing with cold water. "Rose?"
The words are mumbled against his chest. "I won't see her again, will I?"
There's no need to ask who she's talking about. He knows. "I'm sorry, Rose. I really am. But there's a way-"
"To see my mum?" she asks hopefully.
"To say goodbye," he answers. That's all he can give to her and to Jackie. And it tidies up the very last possibility of a paradox: if this him uses the supernova to allow Rose and Jackie to exchange a last goodbye, it prevents the past him trying to say his farewells to a Rose who’s not in the parallel universe. Will prevent; the past him will still try, but he won’t succeed. "The walls are closed, Rose."
She draws in a shaky breath and gives him a weak smile. "Oh. At least I'll get to say goodbye."
"Yeah," he says and tightens his hold.
She quiet for a few more moments before she adds, "An' Jack? Do I have to say goodbye to him again?"
He rests his head against hers, looking thoughtfully into the distance. "I think 'hello' is a better place to start. Don't you?"
***
He’s changed history for her a second time. If she needed any proof of what she means to him, she has it right there. But of course she doesn’t need it; she knows. Knew anyway, even before he gave her back the memories of the day he stole her from the market. The day of the Daleks, when her mum was dead, and the day they made poignant, agonising farewell love in his bed.
She’ll never see her mum again, apart from this goodbye he’s promised her. But then she already knew that when she made her decision to come back. It’s the one tinge of sadness on what she can see is the happiest the Doctor’s been in a long, long time.
“It’s all right, you know,” she murmurs into his throat. “Like I said, I made my choice.”
“Jackie?” He looks down at her, concern in his eyes. “I know. Still. And I promised her I’d always bring you home.”
“You did, Doctor.” She reaches up to press a soft kiss against his lips. “You got me back. You brought me home. Here.”
He kisses her back, and it’s even better than those first kisses on Barcelona, now clear in her mind as if they happened yesterday. Because now she doesn’t have that nagging sensation in the back of her mind that there’s something wrong. And the Doctor’s not veering between manic delight and crushing devastation.
As he raises his head, a thought occurs to her. “What was that all about? If it’s my last chance to say it?”
“Oh.” He looks abashed for a moment, and then grins. “Forgot. Course, that never happened for you in this timeline.” He slides his hands down her arms and takes her hands in his. “The way you’re going to say goodbye to your mum - in the original timeline, that’s how I said goodbye to you. I projected an image of myself through a crack in the walls between the universes. We had two minutes.”
Two minutes. God. Just two minutes to say goodbye to each other. And all they had of each other was an image.
“The last thing you said to me, Rose Tyler, was that you loved me.” His expression softens, and a warm, faintly embarrassed feeling spreads inside her. She actually voiced the words?
“I wasted time.” His forehead creases. “Made a joke about quite right too. And then... well, that’s what I said. But the gap closed before I could finish.”
It all makes sense. The words I didn't say are 'me too'.
It’s probably the closest he’ll ever get to saying it. And it’s enough. It’s more than enough. Considering what he’s done for her, it’s a bonus on top of the greatest gift he could offer her.
“Me too, Doctor,” she murmurs, before reaching up to kiss him again.
***
His work here is done. There’s the TARDIS up ahead now, with the Doctor and Rose inside, happily reunited. There’s a point, now; he probably shouldn’t just barge straight in, should he? Be a good idea to knock first.
So this is it. A quick return trip to Cardiff a year or so in the future, and yet another goodbye to the two people he’s loved for more years than he can remember. He’s not needed any more; not now he’s helped the Doctor to get the person he wanted most back.
And there’s the irony. Before he came up with the idea, the plan, the Doctor had turned to him. Came to him, told him he needed someone - a hand to hold - and he was probably right on the point of issuing another invitation to travel with him. He might even have accepted this time.
Now, though, Rose is back, and good old Captain Jack is surplus to requirements. It’ll be all thanks for the help, maybe I’ll look you up again some century.
Best get it over with. No point delaying the inevitable - and, anyway, the longer he waits the more chance there is that the other Doctor will run into him again. And that’s a conversation he definitely doesn’t want to have, quite apart from the fact that it’s liable to change the ending as well as the story.
Damnit, he’s not going to knock. If they have a problem with him interrupting a make-out session, they can just deal with it.
Deliberately making his entrance as noisy as possible, he enters the TARDIS. Immediately, he finds the Doctor’s gaze on him, a broad, happy grin on his face. “Jack! Excellent! Brilliant! Right! Now we can go. And we need to. I’m still out there, and it really wouldn’t be a good idea for me to find this TARDIS.” As the Doctor’s speaking, he’s already making his way around the console, pressing buttons and flipping switches.
He should probably go and help. But, as he heads for the console, he suddenly finds he has an armful of blonde pressed against him. “Jack! Oh, god, Jack, I missed you so much!”
“Missed you too.” There’s a choke in his voice as he wraps his arms around her and gives in to the impulse to bury his face in her hair. He missed her so much, of course, that he went to London and spied on her over the years. Hell, if he ever told her that she’d think he was a stalker.
She’s pulling back from him suddenly - okay, he’s had his hug ration, and he should be happy with that - but then she’s reaching up, palms on either side of his face, and tugging his head down to hers. “I love you, Jack,” she tells him and, before he has a chance to process that, she’s kissing him.
Kissing him like he’s imagined so many times, both when they were travelling together and in the years and decades afterwards; heated, demanding kisses, open-mouthed, with her tongue exploring his mouth and inviting him to reciprocate. He’s got to be dreaming this, and any second now he’ll wake up, but just for now he’s going to make the most of it. Not that that’s ever a hardship for him, of course, and he makes a point of taking control and showing her what it’s really like to kiss Jack Harkness.
When they come up for air, he knows he’s not dreaming because his gun’s pressing painfully between them and he’ll probably have a bruise on his ribcage later. She’s grinning at him, though, a grin he gladly returns.
“Never thought I’d get a chance to do that again.”
“Again?” She’s not counting his goodbye kiss on the Game Station, surely? That was nothing like this.
“Yeah.” A shadow crosses her face. “Think the Doctor told you ‘bout the other timeline? The one he fixed?”
“The other year that never was? Yeah.” And he wonders if she knows about the first one of those; about the Master.
“Kissed you then, too. We were saying goodbye.”
“Oh.” His heart thumps against his ribcage. “And this time?”
“Oh, think saying hello sounds about right, don’t you?” The Doctor’s strolling over, an amused grin on his face, head tilted to one side. Such a change from the Doctor who came to see him in Cardiff a mere hour ago - or who he had that heart-to-heart with at the end of the universe, or spent a year in captivity with at the hands of the Master. He’s found a reason to smile again - seen for the first time since the Time War, perhaps, that he doesn’t always lose everything he cares about.
“That works,” he says, extricating himself from Rose’s arms; she’s the Doctor’s, and he’s not going to get in the way of that.
“That’s good. That’s very good. Because I had another promise to keep, you know,” the Doctor says, his smile now enigmatic. “But first things first. I haven’t thanked you yet, have I?”
“What for?”
“What for?” An expansive gesture takes in Rose, standing by the Doctor’s side now, looking as happy as he’s ever seen her. “You’re the one who found the way. Changing the story, but not the ending. That’s brilliant, Jack. You’re brilliant.”
He shrugs. “You’d have thought of it, in time.”
“Still. Couldn’t’ve done it without you. You haven’t been through the Void. Much safer to have you operate that lever.”
“Yeah, well, I’m just glad I could help.” He summons a smile, one he hopes is his usual charming Captain smile and that’ll tell the Doctor that he’s perfectly happy to be shipped off back to Cardiff and Torchwood while the two of them continue on their adventures through time and space.
“You did. You did, Jack. Which is why this is the perfect time to keep that last promise.”
“What promise was that?” He almost doesn’t want to know. What else did his alternate-timeline self extricate from the Doctor? A promise to let him travel with him again? A few trips before returning him to his Earth-bound, linear life?
“Well...” The Doctor smiles again, totally charming, utterly irresistible. Bastard. “Just to repeat something, that’s all.” He steps even closer and, before Jack can work out what the hell he’s up to, the Doctor’s face is less than inches from his and cool, alien lips are pressing against his.
It’s not just a kiss. It’s far more than that, as one arm slides around his waist to hold him close, and a hand slides along the side of his face so he can’t escape. Not that he wants to. His head’s spinning as he returns the kiss he’s dreamed of for so long, questions tumbling over themselves in his mind - what’s happening here, why now, what next? - but they’re brushed aside by a wave of warmth and awe-inspiring presence, and a reassuring nudge that seems to say trust me.
The Doctor raises his head and the expression in his eyes, along with the echo of that ancient, powerful presence in his mind, answers at least some of the questions. And then Rose is with them, completing their circle, her arms around both of them.
“So, Jack,” the Doctor says, apparently casual, though there’s a faint hint of something - uncertainty? Surely not? - in his voice. “This team of yours - you still need to stay around and take care of them?”
His breath catches as he recognises what he’s being asked. He’s not going to screw it up this time. “I’d have to spend a few days on a handover, but I think they can manage without me.” A rueful grin crosses his face as he recalls a couple of times they tried to. “Might need to look in every so often just to check they haven’t accidentally unleashed murderous aliens on the population of Cardiff, though.”
The Doctor laughs. “Would anyone notice the difference?”
Rose’s arm tightens around him. “So you’re staying, yeah?”
“If you want me.” Hard to know why they would, really. They always were a unit, these two, and they had the best part of a year to solidify that unit after he was left behind.
“We want you,” she insists, and the Doctor nods in emphatic agreement.
It’s that simple, then, for them, is it? Works for him. The time he spent before in the TARDIS with these two was the happiest of his life. There might be a saying that you can’t go back, but he’s never been a believer in superstition.
Besides, he’s a time-traveller - or was, and will be again. Going back is what that kind of life is all about, isn’t it?
Something Rose said to him a few minutes ago, before she pretty much blew his mind, comes back to him, and he leans in and brushes a sweet kiss over her lips. “I love you too, Rose Tyler.”
She grins, and the Doctor looks mildly offended. “What about me?”
He kisses the Doctor too, before issuing his challenge. “I’ll tell you when you tell me.”
Rose laughs aloud. “You’ll be waiting a long time. He won’t say it to me either.”
But he can tell that it’s not important to her - because she knows, and by the amused, deeply affectionate look in the Doctor’s eyes it’s clear that he knows she knows.
When that look’s turned on him, too, his breath catches. But, yes, he does know, and in a way he always has.
“Right! Things to do!” Abruptly, the Doctor releases both of them. “We’ve got a supernova to find, and a return trip to Cardiff, and after that... well, who knows?”
***
They’re writing a new story now, and none of them knows what the ending will be. That’s the fun of it, though, taking each new day as it comes and living it to the full, exploring all the new dimensions of their relationship.
Some parts are the same as always: travelling, visiting new places and times, meeting strangers who, briefly, become friends and allies, saving planets, getting into trouble, running for their lives. The Doctor and Jack arguing good-naturedly as they work together on some part of the TARDIS machinery, which inevitably seems to involve one or both of them getting underneath the console and emerging dishevelled and oily. She chiding one or both of them for putting empty milk-cartons back in the fridge or leaving dirty mugs in some non-obvious place for days.
There’s a lot that’s different, too. Sleeping arrangements, for one. Long nights of lovemaking that leave her breathless - and some, too, where she returns the favour. And lots of talking, far more than ever before - it seems the Doctor’s learned the importance of at least some explanations.
She learns, for example, that Jack’s immortality is all her doing. While she can’t be remotely sorry that he’s alive, she does regret condemning him to a future she knows he dreads, and a century or more of loneliness before they met him again. She tries to tell him how sorry she is, but he stops her before she’s got beyond the first couple of words. “No more apologies,” he says, laying a finger against her lips.
He and the Doctor have been talking about it, though, all of them equally horrified at the prospect of Jack still alive beyond any other living being in the universe, at the point when the universe is swallowed by the last black hole. The Doctor’s promised to find a way for Jack to die, but, he says, at a time of Jack’s choosing and preferably not for a long time yet.
The two of them will be alive long after she’s grown old and died, but that’s okay. She’s come to terms with that, and she’s glad that the Doctor will have someone after she’s gone, even if he and Jack aren’t always travelling together.
She hears, too, about the two years the Doctor was without her: about more Daleks, about becoming human, and the other year that never was, held in captivity by the Master. Neither of them will tell her much about that, and she accepts it, offering comfort instead of questions. They do tell her, though, about Martha Jones, Time Lord’s companion, the woman who walked the Earth alone to spread the Doctor’s plan. Another ordinary person turned hero because of meeting the Doctor; she wants to meet Martha and hopes it’ll happen.
“Give it time,” Jack tells her privately after she mentions it to the two of them. He explains that the Doctor, hurting after losing her, didn’t exactly treat Martha well, comparing her to her predecessor and making her feel second-best. Even though she’s warmed at the thought that he didn’t forget her, didn’t just not mention her, she’s sad for Martha’s sake - and also for the Doctor, because one day he’s going to be without her again and he needs to be able to move on, to welcome new people into his life.
Some day, she’ll talk to him, tell him that she wants him to move on after she’s gone. He always did before, and just because he’s allowing himself to let her - and Jack - get closer to him than he usually would with companions doesn’t mean that they’re irreplaceable. For his own sake, they can’t be.
The Doctor’s not completely whole again, even if he tells her sometimes that having her, and Jack too, back was all he needed. She pretends to believe him, because it makes him happier, but both she and Jack know that there was always far more troubling him than just losing her. Now that she knows about the year that never was, and other things about the time in between, she understands a little more.
Nobody, and certainly not her or Jack, is ever going to heal the hole in his hearts left by the loss of his planet, his people. But, with every day that passes and they’re still with him, he’s getting better, less prone to the type of brooding they were used to with his previous regeneration, less likely to judge harshly instead of showing mercy.
He’s beginning, perhaps, to learn that there’s still capacity left in the universe for hope.
Martha, Jack tells her, is seeing someone now, another doctor, and maybe soon she’ll be ready to see the Doctor again and meet the woman she came to be jealous of. Maybe they’ll never be friends, but she wants to thank Martha for looking after the Doctor and not walking out on him when he was being a git.
She and the Doctor tell Jack more about the other year that never was, the timeline the Doctor created and erased. The two of them hold her as she tells Jack how he confirmed that her mum was dead; that’s still a memory that can wake her up, shaking.
Her mum’s fine, though. The Doctor managed to give them the two minutes he promised, a tearful farewell on a beach in Norway. Her mum’s happier than she’s ever seen her, now pregnant by her dad-who-isn’t. She told Pete he’d better take care of her mum, and the Doctor was given the same message by both her mum and dad. She’ll never see them again, or get to know her sibling, and those are her only regrets - but she’d never change her decision. She’s where she wants to be.
Even if, right now, that’s facing down an army of loincloth-clad spearmen who’ve decided that the three of them would make an excellent dinner.
Jack’s gaze meets hers, excitement and anticipation in every inch of his body. The Doctor’s looking faintly alarmed, but mostly in his element. Even despite the danger and the fact that she’s got no wish to end up roasting over some alien tribe’s fire, she’s almost bubbling over with laughter herself. This is just typical of the three of them, isn’t it?
Hands slide into each of hers, gripping tightly, and then she hears that familiar command, one she’ll never get tired of.
“Run!”
END
“Every parting is a form of death, as every reunion is a type of heaven.”
- Tryon Edwards (1809-1894)
Authors: dark_aegis and wendymr
Characters: Tenth Doctor, Rose Tyler, Jack Harkness, others
Rated: PG13
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, no matter how much we beg, they're still not ours...
Summary: He's saved the universe over and over again. He's lost everything, including his own race. Doesn't the universe owe him something in return?
With thanks and hugs to nnwest and chloe_az for BRing.
Chapter 1: The Lure of Temptation | Chapter 2: A False Sense of Security | Chapter 3: Home to Roost | Chapter 4: Consequences ( part a | part b) | Chapter 5: Armageddon | Chapter 6: Running out of Time | Chapter 7: Goodbye | Chapter 8: Keeping Promises
Chapter 9: The Story Changes
The Doctor feels the weight of her regard as he closes the TARDIS doors behind them. She's suspicious. That much is obvious from her earlier comments, her earlier reluctance to go with him. But she's clever, his Rose. She's learned enough from him to realise that he's playing a dangerous game.
This game, however, is one that he intends to win. No casual toying with time this go around. Nope, this is one straight out of the Celestial Intervention Agency's training manuals. Already, he's sensing a phantom timeline trying to overwrite his own. But the changes are subtle, so very subtle, that it'll work. By Rassilon, it is working.
"Well?"
Apparently he isn't answering her unspoken questions quickly enough. There's one way of eliminating what's bound to be hours of explanation. He's about to tell her the trigger when she steps closer to him, invading his space. He can smell her shampoo, feel her warmth, and it's all he can do not to reach out for her, to bring her close, to kiss her again.
"What've you done?" she asks.
"Changed the story," he repeats. "It's a motto, actually. The story changes, but the ending stays the same. Seems that's one thing the Time Agency and the Celestial Intervention Agency share. Never would've thought of it without Jack…"
"Jack! He was out there! Doctor, he's alive an' you kept me-"
He interrupts her with the words of the trigger, not wanting to go through this for a second time. "And I suppose... if it's one last chance to say it... Rose Tyler."
"Me too," she replies, almost dreamily. "Oh my god. Doctor!" Knowledge fills her eyes as she stares at him, astonished. "What've you done?"
"It's okay, Rose. Really! This is what's supposed to happen," he says, certain in this knowledge thanks to what's happening in this present, his past. Somewhere outside the TARDIS doors, his new memories are telling him, Jack is in the lever room with his past self. The breach is being closed. Pete Tyler no longer appears - because the breach is closed sooner, or because he’s no longer necessary to events? No matter; it’s how it needs to be.
Changing the story. It's brilliant, really.
"I thought you said you lost me," she says, wincing as she reaches up to touch her forehead. "It's so jumbled up in here. You sent me away to be safe. That's how you lost me, isn't it?"
"Yes."
"So I was meant to be stuck there?" At his nod, she hits his shoulder with the back of her hand. "You git! I made my choice an' I was going to stay with you. But you jus' were gonna leave me there!"
"It was safe," he protests weakly.
"Sod safe!" She pokes his chest with her finger. "You're not doing that to me again, got it?"
He opens his mouth and closes it again, unable to make that promise. To keep her safe, he'd do anything. Anything but lose her permanently again. Anything short of damaging time or the universe, though. He’s learned that particular lesson.
She heaves out a heavy sigh. "Fine. But tell me how this is gonna be different. How d'you know that we're not going to walk out those doors in a month an' not have a Dalek staring back at us?"
"Oh, now that's simple. Very, very simple. I'm not alone, Rose. I've got Jack." He grins at her, now letting himself reach out and touch her cheek. "The breach'll be sealed. The ending is the same, Rose. Don't you see how brilliant that is?"
"You didn't lose me, though. I'm still here."
"Ah, but I did, Rose. For all the past me knows, you're still stuck in an alternate dimension and I didn't even get to tell you why or even to say goodbye," he replies. "Everything'll work out the same. The bride, Martha Jones, Jack and the Master. That hasn't changed." He knows, because he sees it. The timelines in his head are clear.
She gives him a searching look, but now he can see hope kindling in her eyes. "You mean it's okay? I can stay?"
His grin softens to a gentle smile. "If you like."
"Don't be daft. Of course I do!" Rose seals those particular words with an enthusiastic kiss.
It's only been a few hours since they last did this, but that was before they said goodbye. This, though. This is so much better. He always did like hellos.
When the kiss breaks, he wraps her in an embrace, holding her close. He gets to do this as much as he wants now, doesn't he? She's here and she's his.
She's his.
He feels almost giddy with the knowledge and when he feels her sniffle against him, it's as sobering as a dousing with cold water. "Rose?"
The words are mumbled against his chest. "I won't see her again, will I?"
There's no need to ask who she's talking about. He knows. "I'm sorry, Rose. I really am. But there's a way-"
"To see my mum?" she asks hopefully.
"To say goodbye," he answers. That's all he can give to her and to Jackie. And it tidies up the very last possibility of a paradox: if this him uses the supernova to allow Rose and Jackie to exchange a last goodbye, it prevents the past him trying to say his farewells to a Rose who’s not in the parallel universe. Will prevent; the past him will still try, but he won’t succeed. "The walls are closed, Rose."
She draws in a shaky breath and gives him a weak smile. "Oh. At least I'll get to say goodbye."
"Yeah," he says and tightens his hold.
She quiet for a few more moments before she adds, "An' Jack? Do I have to say goodbye to him again?"
He rests his head against hers, looking thoughtfully into the distance. "I think 'hello' is a better place to start. Don't you?"
***
He’s changed history for her a second time. If she needed any proof of what she means to him, she has it right there. But of course she doesn’t need it; she knows. Knew anyway, even before he gave her back the memories of the day he stole her from the market. The day of the Daleks, when her mum was dead, and the day they made poignant, agonising farewell love in his bed.
She’ll never see her mum again, apart from this goodbye he’s promised her. But then she already knew that when she made her decision to come back. It’s the one tinge of sadness on what she can see is the happiest the Doctor’s been in a long, long time.
“It’s all right, you know,” she murmurs into his throat. “Like I said, I made my choice.”
“Jackie?” He looks down at her, concern in his eyes. “I know. Still. And I promised her I’d always bring you home.”
“You did, Doctor.” She reaches up to press a soft kiss against his lips. “You got me back. You brought me home. Here.”
He kisses her back, and it’s even better than those first kisses on Barcelona, now clear in her mind as if they happened yesterday. Because now she doesn’t have that nagging sensation in the back of her mind that there’s something wrong. And the Doctor’s not veering between manic delight and crushing devastation.
As he raises his head, a thought occurs to her. “What was that all about? If it’s my last chance to say it?”
“Oh.” He looks abashed for a moment, and then grins. “Forgot. Course, that never happened for you in this timeline.” He slides his hands down her arms and takes her hands in his. “The way you’re going to say goodbye to your mum - in the original timeline, that’s how I said goodbye to you. I projected an image of myself through a crack in the walls between the universes. We had two minutes.”
Two minutes. God. Just two minutes to say goodbye to each other. And all they had of each other was an image.
“The last thing you said to me, Rose Tyler, was that you loved me.” His expression softens, and a warm, faintly embarrassed feeling spreads inside her. She actually voiced the words?
“I wasted time.” His forehead creases. “Made a joke about quite right too. And then... well, that’s what I said. But the gap closed before I could finish.”
It all makes sense. The words I didn't say are 'me too'.
It’s probably the closest he’ll ever get to saying it. And it’s enough. It’s more than enough. Considering what he’s done for her, it’s a bonus on top of the greatest gift he could offer her.
“Me too, Doctor,” she murmurs, before reaching up to kiss him again.
***
His work here is done. There’s the TARDIS up ahead now, with the Doctor and Rose inside, happily reunited. There’s a point, now; he probably shouldn’t just barge straight in, should he? Be a good idea to knock first.
So this is it. A quick return trip to Cardiff a year or so in the future, and yet another goodbye to the two people he’s loved for more years than he can remember. He’s not needed any more; not now he’s helped the Doctor to get the person he wanted most back.
And there’s the irony. Before he came up with the idea, the plan, the Doctor had turned to him. Came to him, told him he needed someone - a hand to hold - and he was probably right on the point of issuing another invitation to travel with him. He might even have accepted this time.
Now, though, Rose is back, and good old Captain Jack is surplus to requirements. It’ll be all thanks for the help, maybe I’ll look you up again some century.
Best get it over with. No point delaying the inevitable - and, anyway, the longer he waits the more chance there is that the other Doctor will run into him again. And that’s a conversation he definitely doesn’t want to have, quite apart from the fact that it’s liable to change the ending as well as the story.
Damnit, he’s not going to knock. If they have a problem with him interrupting a make-out session, they can just deal with it.
Deliberately making his entrance as noisy as possible, he enters the TARDIS. Immediately, he finds the Doctor’s gaze on him, a broad, happy grin on his face. “Jack! Excellent! Brilliant! Right! Now we can go. And we need to. I’m still out there, and it really wouldn’t be a good idea for me to find this TARDIS.” As the Doctor’s speaking, he’s already making his way around the console, pressing buttons and flipping switches.
He should probably go and help. But, as he heads for the console, he suddenly finds he has an armful of blonde pressed against him. “Jack! Oh, god, Jack, I missed you so much!”
“Missed you too.” There’s a choke in his voice as he wraps his arms around her and gives in to the impulse to bury his face in her hair. He missed her so much, of course, that he went to London and spied on her over the years. Hell, if he ever told her that she’d think he was a stalker.
She’s pulling back from him suddenly - okay, he’s had his hug ration, and he should be happy with that - but then she’s reaching up, palms on either side of his face, and tugging his head down to hers. “I love you, Jack,” she tells him and, before he has a chance to process that, she’s kissing him.
Kissing him like he’s imagined so many times, both when they were travelling together and in the years and decades afterwards; heated, demanding kisses, open-mouthed, with her tongue exploring his mouth and inviting him to reciprocate. He’s got to be dreaming this, and any second now he’ll wake up, but just for now he’s going to make the most of it. Not that that’s ever a hardship for him, of course, and he makes a point of taking control and showing her what it’s really like to kiss Jack Harkness.
When they come up for air, he knows he’s not dreaming because his gun’s pressing painfully between them and he’ll probably have a bruise on his ribcage later. She’s grinning at him, though, a grin he gladly returns.
“Never thought I’d get a chance to do that again.”
“Again?” She’s not counting his goodbye kiss on the Game Station, surely? That was nothing like this.
“Yeah.” A shadow crosses her face. “Think the Doctor told you ‘bout the other timeline? The one he fixed?”
“The other year that never was? Yeah.” And he wonders if she knows about the first one of those; about the Master.
“Kissed you then, too. We were saying goodbye.”
“Oh.” His heart thumps against his ribcage. “And this time?”
“Oh, think saying hello sounds about right, don’t you?” The Doctor’s strolling over, an amused grin on his face, head tilted to one side. Such a change from the Doctor who came to see him in Cardiff a mere hour ago - or who he had that heart-to-heart with at the end of the universe, or spent a year in captivity with at the hands of the Master. He’s found a reason to smile again - seen for the first time since the Time War, perhaps, that he doesn’t always lose everything he cares about.
“That works,” he says, extricating himself from Rose’s arms; she’s the Doctor’s, and he’s not going to get in the way of that.
“That’s good. That’s very good. Because I had another promise to keep, you know,” the Doctor says, his smile now enigmatic. “But first things first. I haven’t thanked you yet, have I?”
“What for?”
“What for?” An expansive gesture takes in Rose, standing by the Doctor’s side now, looking as happy as he’s ever seen her. “You’re the one who found the way. Changing the story, but not the ending. That’s brilliant, Jack. You’re brilliant.”
He shrugs. “You’d have thought of it, in time.”
“Still. Couldn’t’ve done it without you. You haven’t been through the Void. Much safer to have you operate that lever.”
“Yeah, well, I’m just glad I could help.” He summons a smile, one he hopes is his usual charming Captain smile and that’ll tell the Doctor that he’s perfectly happy to be shipped off back to Cardiff and Torchwood while the two of them continue on their adventures through time and space.
“You did. You did, Jack. Which is why this is the perfect time to keep that last promise.”
“What promise was that?” He almost doesn’t want to know. What else did his alternate-timeline self extricate from the Doctor? A promise to let him travel with him again? A few trips before returning him to his Earth-bound, linear life?
“Well...” The Doctor smiles again, totally charming, utterly irresistible. Bastard. “Just to repeat something, that’s all.” He steps even closer and, before Jack can work out what the hell he’s up to, the Doctor’s face is less than inches from his and cool, alien lips are pressing against his.
It’s not just a kiss. It’s far more than that, as one arm slides around his waist to hold him close, and a hand slides along the side of his face so he can’t escape. Not that he wants to. His head’s spinning as he returns the kiss he’s dreamed of for so long, questions tumbling over themselves in his mind - what’s happening here, why now, what next? - but they’re brushed aside by a wave of warmth and awe-inspiring presence, and a reassuring nudge that seems to say trust me.
The Doctor raises his head and the expression in his eyes, along with the echo of that ancient, powerful presence in his mind, answers at least some of the questions. And then Rose is with them, completing their circle, her arms around both of them.
“So, Jack,” the Doctor says, apparently casual, though there’s a faint hint of something - uncertainty? Surely not? - in his voice. “This team of yours - you still need to stay around and take care of them?”
His breath catches as he recognises what he’s being asked. He’s not going to screw it up this time. “I’d have to spend a few days on a handover, but I think they can manage without me.” A rueful grin crosses his face as he recalls a couple of times they tried to. “Might need to look in every so often just to check they haven’t accidentally unleashed murderous aliens on the population of Cardiff, though.”
The Doctor laughs. “Would anyone notice the difference?”
Rose’s arm tightens around him. “So you’re staying, yeah?”
“If you want me.” Hard to know why they would, really. They always were a unit, these two, and they had the best part of a year to solidify that unit after he was left behind.
“We want you,” she insists, and the Doctor nods in emphatic agreement.
It’s that simple, then, for them, is it? Works for him. The time he spent before in the TARDIS with these two was the happiest of his life. There might be a saying that you can’t go back, but he’s never been a believer in superstition.
Besides, he’s a time-traveller - or was, and will be again. Going back is what that kind of life is all about, isn’t it?
Something Rose said to him a few minutes ago, before she pretty much blew his mind, comes back to him, and he leans in and brushes a sweet kiss over her lips. “I love you too, Rose Tyler.”
She grins, and the Doctor looks mildly offended. “What about me?”
He kisses the Doctor too, before issuing his challenge. “I’ll tell you when you tell me.”
Rose laughs aloud. “You’ll be waiting a long time. He won’t say it to me either.”
But he can tell that it’s not important to her - because she knows, and by the amused, deeply affectionate look in the Doctor’s eyes it’s clear that he knows she knows.
When that look’s turned on him, too, his breath catches. But, yes, he does know, and in a way he always has.
“Right! Things to do!” Abruptly, the Doctor releases both of them. “We’ve got a supernova to find, and a return trip to Cardiff, and after that... well, who knows?”
***
They’re writing a new story now, and none of them knows what the ending will be. That’s the fun of it, though, taking each new day as it comes and living it to the full, exploring all the new dimensions of their relationship.
Some parts are the same as always: travelling, visiting new places and times, meeting strangers who, briefly, become friends and allies, saving planets, getting into trouble, running for their lives. The Doctor and Jack arguing good-naturedly as they work together on some part of the TARDIS machinery, which inevitably seems to involve one or both of them getting underneath the console and emerging dishevelled and oily. She chiding one or both of them for putting empty milk-cartons back in the fridge or leaving dirty mugs in some non-obvious place for days.
There’s a lot that’s different, too. Sleeping arrangements, for one. Long nights of lovemaking that leave her breathless - and some, too, where she returns the favour. And lots of talking, far more than ever before - it seems the Doctor’s learned the importance of at least some explanations.
She learns, for example, that Jack’s immortality is all her doing. While she can’t be remotely sorry that he’s alive, she does regret condemning him to a future she knows he dreads, and a century or more of loneliness before they met him again. She tries to tell him how sorry she is, but he stops her before she’s got beyond the first couple of words. “No more apologies,” he says, laying a finger against her lips.
He and the Doctor have been talking about it, though, all of them equally horrified at the prospect of Jack still alive beyond any other living being in the universe, at the point when the universe is swallowed by the last black hole. The Doctor’s promised to find a way for Jack to die, but, he says, at a time of Jack’s choosing and preferably not for a long time yet.
The two of them will be alive long after she’s grown old and died, but that’s okay. She’s come to terms with that, and she’s glad that the Doctor will have someone after she’s gone, even if he and Jack aren’t always travelling together.
She hears, too, about the two years the Doctor was without her: about more Daleks, about becoming human, and the other year that never was, held in captivity by the Master. Neither of them will tell her much about that, and she accepts it, offering comfort instead of questions. They do tell her, though, about Martha Jones, Time Lord’s companion, the woman who walked the Earth alone to spread the Doctor’s plan. Another ordinary person turned hero because of meeting the Doctor; she wants to meet Martha and hopes it’ll happen.
“Give it time,” Jack tells her privately after she mentions it to the two of them. He explains that the Doctor, hurting after losing her, didn’t exactly treat Martha well, comparing her to her predecessor and making her feel second-best. Even though she’s warmed at the thought that he didn’t forget her, didn’t just not mention her, she’s sad for Martha’s sake - and also for the Doctor, because one day he’s going to be without her again and he needs to be able to move on, to welcome new people into his life.
Some day, she’ll talk to him, tell him that she wants him to move on after she’s gone. He always did before, and just because he’s allowing himself to let her - and Jack - get closer to him than he usually would with companions doesn’t mean that they’re irreplaceable. For his own sake, they can’t be.
The Doctor’s not completely whole again, even if he tells her sometimes that having her, and Jack too, back was all he needed. She pretends to believe him, because it makes him happier, but both she and Jack know that there was always far more troubling him than just losing her. Now that she knows about the year that never was, and other things about the time in between, she understands a little more.
Nobody, and certainly not her or Jack, is ever going to heal the hole in his hearts left by the loss of his planet, his people. But, with every day that passes and they’re still with him, he’s getting better, less prone to the type of brooding they were used to with his previous regeneration, less likely to judge harshly instead of showing mercy.
He’s beginning, perhaps, to learn that there’s still capacity left in the universe for hope.
Martha, Jack tells her, is seeing someone now, another doctor, and maybe soon she’ll be ready to see the Doctor again and meet the woman she came to be jealous of. Maybe they’ll never be friends, but she wants to thank Martha for looking after the Doctor and not walking out on him when he was being a git.
She and the Doctor tell Jack more about the other year that never was, the timeline the Doctor created and erased. The two of them hold her as she tells Jack how he confirmed that her mum was dead; that’s still a memory that can wake her up, shaking.
Her mum’s fine, though. The Doctor managed to give them the two minutes he promised, a tearful farewell on a beach in Norway. Her mum’s happier than she’s ever seen her, now pregnant by her dad-who-isn’t. She told Pete he’d better take care of her mum, and the Doctor was given the same message by both her mum and dad. She’ll never see them again, or get to know her sibling, and those are her only regrets - but she’d never change her decision. She’s where she wants to be.
Even if, right now, that’s facing down an army of loincloth-clad spearmen who’ve decided that the three of them would make an excellent dinner.
Jack’s gaze meets hers, excitement and anticipation in every inch of his body. The Doctor’s looking faintly alarmed, but mostly in his element. Even despite the danger and the fact that she’s got no wish to end up roasting over some alien tribe’s fire, she’s almost bubbling over with laughter herself. This is just typical of the three of them, isn’t it?
Hands slide into each of hers, gripping tightly, and then she hears that familiar command, one she’ll never get tired of.
“Run!”
END
“Every parting is a form of death, as every reunion is a type of heaven.”
- Tryon Edwards (1809-1894)