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Doctor Who/Torchwood Fic: What Doesn't Kill You, Jack/Ten, 1/3
Title: What Doesn’t Kill You
Author: Joolz
Fandom: Doctor Who/Torchwood
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Slash, First Time
Pairing: Jack/Ten
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 14,100
Season/Spoilers: This is an extended missing scene for Last of the Time Lords. Many references to the DW Series 3 finale arc, and some to DW Series 1.
Summary: The rest of the world gets a magic re-set, but Jack and the Doctor have to find a way past all the things that happened during the Year that Never Was.
Notes: Deepest gratitude to the lovely betas for this story:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ladyra, Pennydreadfull, newra_skylarke, madtheo
Disclaimer: Not my lovely characters, just playing with them.
Warnings: Nudity; m/m sex; torture; non-explicit non-con and discussion thereof; emo!Doctor
You gots choice:
The story on my website 1/1
What Doesn’t Kill You
When the end of the world was cancelled, Jack took over. He mobilized the slightly stunned soldiers and staff to round up and secure the still psychotic ones. After a long hot shower he liaised with UNIT to start ferrying the civilians back to Earth – it was fascinating how many of them suddenly couldn’t remember what had happened. Traumatic amnesia was the order of the day, but they were all getting retconned anyway, if Jack had anything to say about it.
He also made UNIT deal with the process of figuring out who was in charge of Great Britain now that the PM and all the cabinet ministers were dead. Maybe the Queen could sort it.
He tolerated interrogation by the American Secret Service regarding the death of the President-elect for as long as he could stand it, then sent them to talk to the psychotic soldiers. That would keep them entertained.
After a year of helplessness and inactivity it felt natural to take charge, and it also allowed Jack to put off dealing with things he didn’t want to. He thought about phoning Torchwood, but decided it could wait. Martha kept asking him what had happened on the Valiant that year while she was carrying out her mission on Earth -- probably because she didn’t want to ask her family or the Doctor -- but he didn’t want to talk about it either.
Then of course there was the Doctor; the pink elephant in the living room of denial. The Doctor had retreated into the TARDIS with the Master’s body and hadn’t come out. When Jack went to check on him, the still gravely injured TARDIS mewled piteously in his head and he found the Doctor sitting and staring morosely at the other Time Lord’s body, laid out meticulously as for a state funeral, which it was, in a way. After promising the ship that he would return, Jack had withdrawn as quickly as he could and found something else with which to busy himself.
The next time he ventured into the TARDIS he found the Doctor carefully wrapping the Master’s body in strips of white cloth. That was when he knew it was time. He made a phone call and gave specific instructions on how to build a pyre on a remote Welsh beach, and commandeered a shuttle for his own personal use. Jack went back to the TARDIS and threw the Doctor his coat before walking straight to the Master.
The Doctor stared at Jack as he lifted the small body into his arms. Amazingly small and light considering the power it had contained; the power to destroy lives and to destroy worlds. He said to the Doctor, “Come on,” and walked out, the Doctor trailing silently behind. He wanted to say more. He wanted to rail and scream, but reminded himself that he wasn’t doing this for the Master or for himself. He was doing this for the Doctor, so he just bit his tongue and got on with it.
After laying the body gently on a bench in the back of the shuttle and strapping the Doctor into a seat, he closed the hatch, completed the pre-flight check, and they left the dock. Neither of them said a word as they flew down to the Earth for the first time in a year.
The sun was setting as they approached the beach, painting the sky pink and purple and turning the ocean to deepest indigo. The landscape was as it was supposed to be, without mile upon mile of weapon launch facilities. Jack landed the shuttle around a bend, out of sight of the pyre. He once again picked up his burden and stepped out onto the sand.
This time the Doctor walked beside him, studying Jack’s face uncertainly. “Jack?” he asked.
Jack shook his head and kept walking. When the pyre came into view the Doctor stopped, but Jack continued. Hoisting the body up onto the top, he laid it out respectfully, as though he wouldn’t have been just as glad to dump it into a garbage tip.
After climbing down, he lit the torch and turned to the Doctor in the deepening twilight. He handed the other man the burning brand and looked into the desolation in his dark eyes. Jack wanted to believe that the Doctor he knew was still in there somewhere, but only time would tell if the blow of losing the last link to his own race had broken something irreparably.
Jack brushed a lock of hair off the Doctor’s forehead and said, “Let him go, Doctor.” The Doctor’s chin came up a bit and Jack thought he might say something, but he didn’t.
Jack turned and walked inland, up and over a tall dune. On the other side he lay down in the grass and looked up at the sky. It took him a while to calm down and start to feel the earth underneath him and notice the clean smell of the ocean air, without the stench of fear or blood or pain that had come to seem the norm. It was almost a shock, and it started to open something in him that he wasn’t ready for yet. He clamped down hard on any emotion and traced the outlines of constellations as they became visible in the darkening sky, looking for some of his favourite stars. “I’ve been there,” he counted off. “I’ve been there. I’ve been there.”
It was fully dark by the time he caught the first whiff of smoke, which was soon followed by the glow of firelight that cast the top of the dune as a silhouette. That was it, then. The end of a chapter. Jack wasn’t sure what would follow, but now he, and hopefully the Doctor, could start thinking of it as the past and move on.
Half an hour later he heard the shifting and crunching of sand, and a shadow fell over him. Jack looked up at the Doctor, who stood gazing down at him quietly. “Thank you,” the Doctor said. Even in the dim light, the Doctor’s face was different, the emptiness replaced by a more familiar determination, and a wave of relief washed through Jack.
“Are you ready to go?” Jack asked.
“Yes.”
Jack took the offered hand and the Doctor pulled him to his feet. The two men walked together back to the shuttle.
++++++++
The Doctor surveyed the damage to the TARDIS, feeling guilty about putting off her repairs for such a long time. Except for being an instrument of torture to his timeship, the paradox machine was a work of sheer genius. The technology was elegant and original, and looking at it roused a frisson of grief for what might have been. The Master’s brilliant mind had been so tragically wasted on creating one method after another of wreaking death and destruction.
But the Master was gone. The Doctor had succeeded in saving a whole world full of people, but had failed to save the one that mattered the most. There was no changing that, though. There was only focusing on the next task that presented itself, then the next.
Many of the repairs the Doctor would be able make on his own, but the first pieces of the paradox machine that needed to be removed were particularly large and unwieldy. The Doctor wondered how the Master had gotten them installed in the first place. Had he arranged for teams of workers to board the TARDIS? What had they thought of his ship? Had the Master executed them all once the heavy lifting was done?
As the Doctor stood wondering how to proceed, Jack walked in wearing a crisp blue shirt and braces – he looked good after being dressed in rags or less for so long. After assessing the task before them, Jack literally rolled up his sleeves.
“Where do we start?” the human asked.
A weight that the Doctor hadn’t been aware of carrying slid off his shoulders. He didn’t have to face this alone. He pointed to the central tower of the Paradox structure surrounding the time rotor, now riddled with bullet holes. “That,” he said, “has to come out.”
“Okay,” Jack agreed. “Don’t worry, beautiful,” he said to the ship. “We’ll have you humming again in no time.”
Together they rigged a pulley system to keep the structure from falling while they worked on it. As they methodically separated all the connections, temporarily patching the injuries to the TARDIS, Jack chatted softly with the ship. The Doctor heard him say, “I’m sorry that I was so rough with you there at the end. I wish there had been time to be gentler.” There was a pause, then Jack continued, “I know it hurt, sweetie, but we were trying to save the universe.” Then, “I promise we will.”
The Doctor frowned. His ship was nattering away with Jack, not in actual words, he knew, but in feelings and images. She must have been terribly lonely and desperate to communicate that way with Jack, because she would barely speak to the Doctor at all. Not that he was being particularly outgoing with her, either. He was having enough trouble dealing with his own pain without opening himself up to her distress.
He looked at Jack speculatively. It was the heart of the TARDIS that had changed Jack and left a bit of the Time Vortex behind in him. He wondered if that gave them a more intimate connection than the ship could usually produce with a human. As a Time Lord, the Doctor was genetically compatible with the TARDIS, but maybe this was another facet of the anomaly that was Jack Harkness. Normally, the Doctor would be fascinated with the idea and set about investigating immediately, but at the moment he wasn't up to it.
In fact, he and Jack had slipped back into the patterns that had helped them cope for the past year. Only by being silent and non-responsive could the Doctor deny the Master satisfaction and protect the people around him. He had spent the year almost entirely mute. The Master had had no trouble reading his thoughts, except for the ones he was actively hiding, but it was the principle of the thing.
Jack, on the other hand, had talked continually. He ridiculed and goaded the Master whenever possible. He carried on one-sided conversations with Martha’s family and the guards, who had been ordered not to speak to him. He developed long philosophical monologues while standing in chains for days at a time. The Doctor thought it was Jack’s way of staying sane and maintaining an illusion of some control. The only time he was silent was when the pain got to the point where he was trying not to scream. Or when the Master cut out his tongue.
Now Jack kept up a soothing patter as they worked, engaging the Doctor in superficial conversation or asking for repair instructions that he didn’t really need, in order to draw the Doctor out. The Doctor recognized what he was trying to do and made an effort to respond in the same spirit, and slowly, haltingly, his sense of normality began to return.
When they were ready, Jack heaved the chains and pumped the levers of their pulley system, while the Doctor guided the offensive cage-like contraption away from the console. When it hung free in the air, leaving the console looking better if not entirely well, the Doctor went to stand by Jack. They considered the object solemnly, wondering what to do with it now.
“There are industrial sized trolleys down in the engine room,” Jack suggested. “I can bring one up and see if it will support the weight.”
“Good idea. It’ll be a relief to see the back end of this thing.”
When Jack returned, pushing the large pallet on wheels, Martha was with him, and the Doctor was able to give her a genuine smile. He was so proud of what she had accomplished, and admired the woman she had become during the year that they were apart.
“So the TARDIS is on the mend, then?” she asked.
“Well, there’s a bit more to do,” the Doctor said.
“Yeah,” Jack agreed. “He really did a number on her. We can fix it, though.”
“It’ll probably take several days or a week,” the Doctor added.
“You don’t need me for that, do you?” she asked. “I mean, about all I could do is stand around and hold your tools for you.”
Jack grinned lasciviously. “Lovely lady, you can hold my…”
With a glare the Doctor interrupted, “Jack!”
Martha laughed and swatted Jack. “Watch it, mister!”
Jack was on a roll. “I like watching, too.”
“I’ll just bet you do,” she said, amused. “But seriously, if you’re going to be busy for a while, there are some things I want to do. I need to check on a few people, see for myself that they’re all right. See for myself that London isn’t a giant prison camp anymore. Do some shopping.”
The men looked at her. “Shopping?” the Doctor asked incredulously.
“Yeah, shopping. What? Everything I owned was destroyed when the Master blew up my flat. That was well before the time reset. I don’t have any clothes, no hair brush, no nothing.”
Jack winced. “With everything going on, I’d forgotten about that. Your car’s a total loss, too.”
The Doctor brightened. “Right! I have just the thing.” He rummaged in his trans-dimensional pocket and pulled out a credit card. After a quick buzz with his sonic screwdriver he handed it to her. “Here. Go wild. Sky’s the limit.”
“Really? That’s great, thanks!” She gave the Doctor a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek, which made him smile again. “The shops aren’t going to know what hit them.”
Once it was on the trolley, she helped them manoeuvre the carapace of the paradox machine to an exterior railing of the flying aircraft carrier and ceremoniously tip it off into the ocean. Then with a quick hug and promises of presents for both of them, Martha walked briskly away.
Watching her go, the Doctor said, “She’s amazing, isn’t she? She was forced to do the impossible this year, but you’d never know it.”
“She’s a strong lady,” Jack agreed. Looking after her wistfully, he said, “But no matter how bad it was for her, and I have no doubt it was hell, at least she had something to do. No time to sit around and feel sorry for herself.” The Doctor recognized himself in that statement, but after shooting him a look Jack clarified, “I’m talking about myself. Way too much time to think. Never a good thing for a guy like me.”
“Well!” the Doctor said. “I don’t know why we’re standing about chin-wagging now. We’ve got plenty to keep us busy.”
“Right you are.” Jack clapped him on the back and they returned to the TARDIS.
+++++++++
Jack revelled in spending time with the Doctor. Their interactions over the last year had been continually fraught with desperation, but now it was more like what he had spent years imagining their reunion would be; tinkering with the TARDIS, quietly, side by side. No fear, no drama. Not much drama, anyway.
The Time Lord wasn't exactly chatty, but he wasn't as frighteningly non-verbal as he had been for a while. He was able to carry on a conversation about the accuracy of the referential difference readouts just fine, but resisted anything more personal. A bit of adjustment was to be expected, though, so that wasn't what worried Jack.
When he looked up from the architectural configuration circuit, he noticed the Doctor doing it again. He was frozen in place, staring blankly at the panel before him. He didn't blink, he didn't breathe. The Doctor didn't have to breathe the same way a human did, but still, every time Jack had observed this happening it alarmed him. He would have a flash of panic that maybe this time the Doctor would stay that way and not come back. It gave him a new sympathy for what people went through when they watched Jack die. There were no guarantees, only hope that everything would be all right.
Jack watched the Doctor's unnatural stillness for several minutes until the other man suddenly took a breath and once again focused his eyes on his work. Jack turned his attention back to his own task before the Doctor could notice his scrutiny.
Jack asked casually, "So, Doc, what's the prognosis on the lateral balance cones? Will the third one need replacing or not?"
"Looks like it will hold. You've had worse, haven't you old girl?" The Doctor patted the panel sympathetically.
The TARDIS was less frantic, too, which was a relief to Jack. The repairs were coming along well; much better than he had feared when they first started. He'd been concerned about the ship's… sanity… if the term could be applied, but she was calming with every system that came back on line.
As though reading Jack's thoughts, the Doctor said, "It won't be much longer now, a day at the most, and she'll be good to go. We should take her on a trip, just a short hop, not too far, and see how she responds."
"Have you thought of where?"
"Not really. Any preferences?"
Jack had been thinking about it, actually. "If you don't object, Doctor, I had in mind a trip to the beach. Not in Wales, of course. Somewhere warm and peaceful. Like Hawaii, maybe. All these years on Earth, and I still haven't been."
The Doctor looked at him with playful shock. "Never? Oh, we'll have to do something about that, then. Hawaii it is."
"Thanks!" Jack enthused, genuinely looking forward to it.
"No Jack, thank you." The Doctor was serious again. "Thank you for helping me repair the TARDIS. I wouldn't have liked doing it alone."
"No place I'd rather be." Jack meant every word.
++++++++++
They opened the door and stood looking out. The sky and sea were both crystal clear blue, there was a grassy bank leading down to a white sand beach, and shade trees lining the shore as far as they could see. A warm breeze brushed past them.
The Doctor explained, “This is the island of Oahu. About 300 years in the past. Won’t be many people around to disturb us. We’ll be the only tourists for miles.”
Jack smiled with pleasure. “Thanks, Doctor, this is perfect.”
“All part of the service.” It was nice to be able to do something, even a small thing, for Jack.
The younger man turned and went back into the TARDIS, then stopped, bent down, untied his boots, and pulled them off. When he stood he pushed the braces away from his shoulders and began unbuttoning his shirt. It was quickly stripped away, followed by his under shirt, leaving his chest bare. He folded the clothes and laid them carefully on an arm of the coral support strut.
“Uh,” the Doctor said. “Why are you taking your clothes off?”
The other man raised his eyebrows at what he evidently thought was a stupid question. “We’re at the beach,” he enunciated clearly as he unbuttoned and unzipped his trousers.
The Doctor blinked as he watched Jack strip off the rest of his clothes and add them to the neat pile, and used all his physiological self-control to not blush. Jack caught his look and froze.
“Is it a problem?” he asked, concerned.
“No, no. Of course not,” the Doctor sputtered. “It’s just that I would have thought you wouldn’t want -- I mean, after the Valiant.”
Jack’s expression cleared as he got what the Doctor was trying to say. “Oh, you mean because the Master paraded me around naked so much?”
The Doctor swallowed and nodded.
Grinning wryly, Jack shook his head. “He did that because he meant to humiliate me. It was just one of the mistakes he made. He didn’t realize that I don’t have any issues around being naked. Not a hardship for me.” He reached out and stroked the soft wool of his trousers. “It isn’t that I’m not glad to have clean clothes again, but here at the beach I don’t need them. And yeah, it’s on my terms now, which is better.” He frowned again. “Unless it makes you uncomfortable.”
Waving a hand to shoo him toward the door, the Doctor said, “No! Up to you, it is. Just don’t expect me to go prancing about in the altogether.”
Jack grinned and leered at him playfully. “I hope you change your mind. I’d love to get a look at your Time Lordly assets.”
The Doctor had to chuckle. “Don’t count on it. Off you go, then.”
With a final grin Jack turned and trotted toward the door. The Doctor admired his broad shoulders and muscular back, tapering to a slim waist and stunning bum. His skin was as flawless and creamy as a newborn babe.
When his vision cleared, his hearts were still pounding. Now, though, he was looking out the door of the TARDIS at a beautiful, sunny day. He stumbled forward, supporting himself in the doorframe. He could see Jack in the water, floating face up. He swam a few smooth backstrokes, flipped over, dived, resurfaced moments later, then turned onto his back again. He looked relaxed and peaceful, enjoying the sun and the water.
The Doctor’s heartbeats started to slow, but his chest still hurt. This was real. The other was past and over. Only, sometimes, it didn’t feel that way.
+++++++++
Jack let the water swirl over him, caressing him intimately and gently, soothing away the ghostly memories of unwanted touch. When he kicked his legs, it felt like a lover's hands skimming down the long muscles of his thighs. When he floated, the water tickled his genitals playfully, leaving him tingling. His hair floated freely around his head, as weightless as he felt. Being alive was actually a pleasure, and it had been way too long since he could say that.
It was almost too much. Something shifted inside, but he tamped it down firmly. Not yet, not now. Today was just to relax and enjoy.
Jack flipped over in the water and looked back toward the shore. The TARDIS had landed just above the high tide line, where a thick forest met the white sand beach, and it made a pretty setting. The Doctor had brought out two low beach chairs, and was sitting in one. In deference to the balmy weather he was actually down to trousers and shirt sleeves. Jack chuckled and murmured to himself, "Go wild, Doc."
He swam in until he could stand on the ocean floor, then walked slowly out of the water. As gravity re-exerted itself, the flexing of his muscles made him feel strong and solid, at home in his body again. Even the heat of the sand against his feet was exhilarating.
When he got close enough, the Doctor handed him a fluffy white towel, which Jack accepted gratefully. After using it to quickly wipe down his body, he wrapped it around his waist. He wouldn't usually bother, but he didn't think the Doctor was completely comfortable with his nudity, and Jack wasn't actually trying to provoke him. Not much, anyway.
Jack sank back into his chair with a sigh and felt the laziness of true relaxation creeping up on him. The chairs were set under some overhanging trees, and the dappled sunlight provided the perfect temperature as the breeze dried his skin. He stretched his legs out in front of him and dug into the sand with his toes. Absolute paradise.
He glanced at the Doctor, who looked like he was actually enjoying sitting still for once. The breeze ruffled his dishevelled hair and his eyes scanned the horizon where the light blue sky met the dark blue sea.
When Jack travelled with the Doctor and Rose before, they'd gone to Woman Wept with its spectacular frozen seascapes, but they'd never been to a tropical beach together. Curious, Jack asked, "With that fair skin of yours, do you tan or go straight to sunburn?"
The Doctor lifted an eyebrow at him. "That depends on the sun, doesn't it? With this one, neither. Wrong spectrum. Now, I have to be very careful on Magelis V. Me and lobster red don't go well together." He waved a hand toward Jack's body. "And what about you? Should I expect you to turn into a bronzed god?"
Jack laughed. "I wish. No, if I'm out in the sun for a while I can work up to a healthy glow, but it fades pretty quickly. I guess I'm fated to go through eternity a dazzling shade of white."
"Well, it suits, anyway," the Doctor said. "And no worries about skin cancer either, I suppose."
"Nope. See, there are some advantages to my current state."
"That there are."
Jack asked the Doctor if he thought the TARDIS could supply the ingredients for some nice fruity beach drinks, but he fell asleep before either of them could be bothered to go find out.
++++++++++
Part 2
Author: Joolz
Fandom: Doctor Who/Torchwood
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Slash, First Time
Pairing: Jack/Ten
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 14,100
Season/Spoilers: This is an extended missing scene for Last of the Time Lords. Many references to the DW Series 3 finale arc, and some to DW Series 1.
Summary: The rest of the world gets a magic re-set, but Jack and the Doctor have to find a way past all the things that happened during the Year that Never Was.
Notes: Deepest gratitude to the lovely betas for this story:
ladyra, Pennydreadfull, newra_skylarke, madtheoDisclaimer: Not my lovely characters, just playing with them.
Warnings: Nudity; m/m sex; torture; non-explicit non-con and discussion thereof; emo!Doctor
You gots choice:
The story on my website 1/1
What Doesn’t Kill You
When the end of the world was cancelled, Jack took over. He mobilized the slightly stunned soldiers and staff to round up and secure the still psychotic ones. After a long hot shower he liaised with UNIT to start ferrying the civilians back to Earth – it was fascinating how many of them suddenly couldn’t remember what had happened. Traumatic amnesia was the order of the day, but they were all getting retconned anyway, if Jack had anything to say about it.
He also made UNIT deal with the process of figuring out who was in charge of Great Britain now that the PM and all the cabinet ministers were dead. Maybe the Queen could sort it.
He tolerated interrogation by the American Secret Service regarding the death of the President-elect for as long as he could stand it, then sent them to talk to the psychotic soldiers. That would keep them entertained.
After a year of helplessness and inactivity it felt natural to take charge, and it also allowed Jack to put off dealing with things he didn’t want to. He thought about phoning Torchwood, but decided it could wait. Martha kept asking him what had happened on the Valiant that year while she was carrying out her mission on Earth -- probably because she didn’t want to ask her family or the Doctor -- but he didn’t want to talk about it either.
Then of course there was the Doctor; the pink elephant in the living room of denial. The Doctor had retreated into the TARDIS with the Master’s body and hadn’t come out. When Jack went to check on him, the still gravely injured TARDIS mewled piteously in his head and he found the Doctor sitting and staring morosely at the other Time Lord’s body, laid out meticulously as for a state funeral, which it was, in a way. After promising the ship that he would return, Jack had withdrawn as quickly as he could and found something else with which to busy himself.
The next time he ventured into the TARDIS he found the Doctor carefully wrapping the Master’s body in strips of white cloth. That was when he knew it was time. He made a phone call and gave specific instructions on how to build a pyre on a remote Welsh beach, and commandeered a shuttle for his own personal use. Jack went back to the TARDIS and threw the Doctor his coat before walking straight to the Master.
The Doctor stared at Jack as he lifted the small body into his arms. Amazingly small and light considering the power it had contained; the power to destroy lives and to destroy worlds. He said to the Doctor, “Come on,” and walked out, the Doctor trailing silently behind. He wanted to say more. He wanted to rail and scream, but reminded himself that he wasn’t doing this for the Master or for himself. He was doing this for the Doctor, so he just bit his tongue and got on with it.
After laying the body gently on a bench in the back of the shuttle and strapping the Doctor into a seat, he closed the hatch, completed the pre-flight check, and they left the dock. Neither of them said a word as they flew down to the Earth for the first time in a year.
The sun was setting as they approached the beach, painting the sky pink and purple and turning the ocean to deepest indigo. The landscape was as it was supposed to be, without mile upon mile of weapon launch facilities. Jack landed the shuttle around a bend, out of sight of the pyre. He once again picked up his burden and stepped out onto the sand.
This time the Doctor walked beside him, studying Jack’s face uncertainly. “Jack?” he asked.
Jack shook his head and kept walking. When the pyre came into view the Doctor stopped, but Jack continued. Hoisting the body up onto the top, he laid it out respectfully, as though he wouldn’t have been just as glad to dump it into a garbage tip.
After climbing down, he lit the torch and turned to the Doctor in the deepening twilight. He handed the other man the burning brand and looked into the desolation in his dark eyes. Jack wanted to believe that the Doctor he knew was still in there somewhere, but only time would tell if the blow of losing the last link to his own race had broken something irreparably.
Jack brushed a lock of hair off the Doctor’s forehead and said, “Let him go, Doctor.” The Doctor’s chin came up a bit and Jack thought he might say something, but he didn’t.
Jack turned and walked inland, up and over a tall dune. On the other side he lay down in the grass and looked up at the sky. It took him a while to calm down and start to feel the earth underneath him and notice the clean smell of the ocean air, without the stench of fear or blood or pain that had come to seem the norm. It was almost a shock, and it started to open something in him that he wasn’t ready for yet. He clamped down hard on any emotion and traced the outlines of constellations as they became visible in the darkening sky, looking for some of his favourite stars. “I’ve been there,” he counted off. “I’ve been there. I’ve been there.”
It was fully dark by the time he caught the first whiff of smoke, which was soon followed by the glow of firelight that cast the top of the dune as a silhouette. That was it, then. The end of a chapter. Jack wasn’t sure what would follow, but now he, and hopefully the Doctor, could start thinking of it as the past and move on.
Half an hour later he heard the shifting and crunching of sand, and a shadow fell over him. Jack looked up at the Doctor, who stood gazing down at him quietly. “Thank you,” the Doctor said. Even in the dim light, the Doctor’s face was different, the emptiness replaced by a more familiar determination, and a wave of relief washed through Jack.
“Are you ready to go?” Jack asked.
“Yes.”
Jack took the offered hand and the Doctor pulled him to his feet. The two men walked together back to the shuttle.
++++++++
The Doctor surveyed the damage to the TARDIS, feeling guilty about putting off her repairs for such a long time. Except for being an instrument of torture to his timeship, the paradox machine was a work of sheer genius. The technology was elegant and original, and looking at it roused a frisson of grief for what might have been. The Master’s brilliant mind had been so tragically wasted on creating one method after another of wreaking death and destruction.
But the Master was gone. The Doctor had succeeded in saving a whole world full of people, but had failed to save the one that mattered the most. There was no changing that, though. There was only focusing on the next task that presented itself, then the next.
Many of the repairs the Doctor would be able make on his own, but the first pieces of the paradox machine that needed to be removed were particularly large and unwieldy. The Doctor wondered how the Master had gotten them installed in the first place. Had he arranged for teams of workers to board the TARDIS? What had they thought of his ship? Had the Master executed them all once the heavy lifting was done?
As the Doctor stood wondering how to proceed, Jack walked in wearing a crisp blue shirt and braces – he looked good after being dressed in rags or less for so long. After assessing the task before them, Jack literally rolled up his sleeves.
“Where do we start?” the human asked.
A weight that the Doctor hadn’t been aware of carrying slid off his shoulders. He didn’t have to face this alone. He pointed to the central tower of the Paradox structure surrounding the time rotor, now riddled with bullet holes. “That,” he said, “has to come out.”
“Okay,” Jack agreed. “Don’t worry, beautiful,” he said to the ship. “We’ll have you humming again in no time.”
Together they rigged a pulley system to keep the structure from falling while they worked on it. As they methodically separated all the connections, temporarily patching the injuries to the TARDIS, Jack chatted softly with the ship. The Doctor heard him say, “I’m sorry that I was so rough with you there at the end. I wish there had been time to be gentler.” There was a pause, then Jack continued, “I know it hurt, sweetie, but we were trying to save the universe.” Then, “I promise we will.”
The Doctor frowned. His ship was nattering away with Jack, not in actual words, he knew, but in feelings and images. She must have been terribly lonely and desperate to communicate that way with Jack, because she would barely speak to the Doctor at all. Not that he was being particularly outgoing with her, either. He was having enough trouble dealing with his own pain without opening himself up to her distress.
He looked at Jack speculatively. It was the heart of the TARDIS that had changed Jack and left a bit of the Time Vortex behind in him. He wondered if that gave them a more intimate connection than the ship could usually produce with a human. As a Time Lord, the Doctor was genetically compatible with the TARDIS, but maybe this was another facet of the anomaly that was Jack Harkness. Normally, the Doctor would be fascinated with the idea and set about investigating immediately, but at the moment he wasn't up to it.
In fact, he and Jack had slipped back into the patterns that had helped them cope for the past year. Only by being silent and non-responsive could the Doctor deny the Master satisfaction and protect the people around him. He had spent the year almost entirely mute. The Master had had no trouble reading his thoughts, except for the ones he was actively hiding, but it was the principle of the thing.
Jack, on the other hand, had talked continually. He ridiculed and goaded the Master whenever possible. He carried on one-sided conversations with Martha’s family and the guards, who had been ordered not to speak to him. He developed long philosophical monologues while standing in chains for days at a time. The Doctor thought it was Jack’s way of staying sane and maintaining an illusion of some control. The only time he was silent was when the pain got to the point where he was trying not to scream. Or when the Master cut out his tongue.
Now Jack kept up a soothing patter as they worked, engaging the Doctor in superficial conversation or asking for repair instructions that he didn’t really need, in order to draw the Doctor out. The Doctor recognized what he was trying to do and made an effort to respond in the same spirit, and slowly, haltingly, his sense of normality began to return.
When they were ready, Jack heaved the chains and pumped the levers of their pulley system, while the Doctor guided the offensive cage-like contraption away from the console. When it hung free in the air, leaving the console looking better if not entirely well, the Doctor went to stand by Jack. They considered the object solemnly, wondering what to do with it now.
“There are industrial sized trolleys down in the engine room,” Jack suggested. “I can bring one up and see if it will support the weight.”
“Good idea. It’ll be a relief to see the back end of this thing.”
When Jack returned, pushing the large pallet on wheels, Martha was with him, and the Doctor was able to give her a genuine smile. He was so proud of what she had accomplished, and admired the woman she had become during the year that they were apart.
“So the TARDIS is on the mend, then?” she asked.
“Well, there’s a bit more to do,” the Doctor said.
“Yeah,” Jack agreed. “He really did a number on her. We can fix it, though.”
“It’ll probably take several days or a week,” the Doctor added.
“You don’t need me for that, do you?” she asked. “I mean, about all I could do is stand around and hold your tools for you.”
Jack grinned lasciviously. “Lovely lady, you can hold my…”
With a glare the Doctor interrupted, “Jack!”
Martha laughed and swatted Jack. “Watch it, mister!”
Jack was on a roll. “I like watching, too.”
“I’ll just bet you do,” she said, amused. “But seriously, if you’re going to be busy for a while, there are some things I want to do. I need to check on a few people, see for myself that they’re all right. See for myself that London isn’t a giant prison camp anymore. Do some shopping.”
The men looked at her. “Shopping?” the Doctor asked incredulously.
“Yeah, shopping. What? Everything I owned was destroyed when the Master blew up my flat. That was well before the time reset. I don’t have any clothes, no hair brush, no nothing.”
Jack winced. “With everything going on, I’d forgotten about that. Your car’s a total loss, too.”
The Doctor brightened. “Right! I have just the thing.” He rummaged in his trans-dimensional pocket and pulled out a credit card. After a quick buzz with his sonic screwdriver he handed it to her. “Here. Go wild. Sky’s the limit.”
“Really? That’s great, thanks!” She gave the Doctor a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek, which made him smile again. “The shops aren’t going to know what hit them.”
Once it was on the trolley, she helped them manoeuvre the carapace of the paradox machine to an exterior railing of the flying aircraft carrier and ceremoniously tip it off into the ocean. Then with a quick hug and promises of presents for both of them, Martha walked briskly away.
Watching her go, the Doctor said, “She’s amazing, isn’t she? She was forced to do the impossible this year, but you’d never know it.”
“She’s a strong lady,” Jack agreed. Looking after her wistfully, he said, “But no matter how bad it was for her, and I have no doubt it was hell, at least she had something to do. No time to sit around and feel sorry for herself.” The Doctor recognized himself in that statement, but after shooting him a look Jack clarified, “I’m talking about myself. Way too much time to think. Never a good thing for a guy like me.”
“Well!” the Doctor said. “I don’t know why we’re standing about chin-wagging now. We’ve got plenty to keep us busy.”
“Right you are.” Jack clapped him on the back and they returned to the TARDIS.
+++++++++
Jack revelled in spending time with the Doctor. Their interactions over the last year had been continually fraught with desperation, but now it was more like what he had spent years imagining their reunion would be; tinkering with the TARDIS, quietly, side by side. No fear, no drama. Not much drama, anyway.
The Time Lord wasn't exactly chatty, but he wasn't as frighteningly non-verbal as he had been for a while. He was able to carry on a conversation about the accuracy of the referential difference readouts just fine, but resisted anything more personal. A bit of adjustment was to be expected, though, so that wasn't what worried Jack.
When he looked up from the architectural configuration circuit, he noticed the Doctor doing it again. He was frozen in place, staring blankly at the panel before him. He didn't blink, he didn't breathe. The Doctor didn't have to breathe the same way a human did, but still, every time Jack had observed this happening it alarmed him. He would have a flash of panic that maybe this time the Doctor would stay that way and not come back. It gave him a new sympathy for what people went through when they watched Jack die. There were no guarantees, only hope that everything would be all right.
Jack watched the Doctor's unnatural stillness for several minutes until the other man suddenly took a breath and once again focused his eyes on his work. Jack turned his attention back to his own task before the Doctor could notice his scrutiny.
Jack asked casually, "So, Doc, what's the prognosis on the lateral balance cones? Will the third one need replacing or not?"
"Looks like it will hold. You've had worse, haven't you old girl?" The Doctor patted the panel sympathetically.
The TARDIS was less frantic, too, which was a relief to Jack. The repairs were coming along well; much better than he had feared when they first started. He'd been concerned about the ship's… sanity… if the term could be applied, but she was calming with every system that came back on line.
As though reading Jack's thoughts, the Doctor said, "It won't be much longer now, a day at the most, and she'll be good to go. We should take her on a trip, just a short hop, not too far, and see how she responds."
"Have you thought of where?"
"Not really. Any preferences?"
Jack had been thinking about it, actually. "If you don't object, Doctor, I had in mind a trip to the beach. Not in Wales, of course. Somewhere warm and peaceful. Like Hawaii, maybe. All these years on Earth, and I still haven't been."
The Doctor looked at him with playful shock. "Never? Oh, we'll have to do something about that, then. Hawaii it is."
"Thanks!" Jack enthused, genuinely looking forward to it.
"No Jack, thank you." The Doctor was serious again. "Thank you for helping me repair the TARDIS. I wouldn't have liked doing it alone."
"No place I'd rather be." Jack meant every word.
++++++++++
They opened the door and stood looking out. The sky and sea were both crystal clear blue, there was a grassy bank leading down to a white sand beach, and shade trees lining the shore as far as they could see. A warm breeze brushed past them.
The Doctor explained, “This is the island of Oahu. About 300 years in the past. Won’t be many people around to disturb us. We’ll be the only tourists for miles.”
Jack smiled with pleasure. “Thanks, Doctor, this is perfect.”
“All part of the service.” It was nice to be able to do something, even a small thing, for Jack.
The younger man turned and went back into the TARDIS, then stopped, bent down, untied his boots, and pulled them off. When he stood he pushed the braces away from his shoulders and began unbuttoning his shirt. It was quickly stripped away, followed by his under shirt, leaving his chest bare. He folded the clothes and laid them carefully on an arm of the coral support strut.
“Uh,” the Doctor said. “Why are you taking your clothes off?”
The other man raised his eyebrows at what he evidently thought was a stupid question. “We’re at the beach,” he enunciated clearly as he unbuttoned and unzipped his trousers.
The Doctor blinked as he watched Jack strip off the rest of his clothes and add them to the neat pile, and used all his physiological self-control to not blush. Jack caught his look and froze.
“Is it a problem?” he asked, concerned.
“No, no. Of course not,” the Doctor sputtered. “It’s just that I would have thought you wouldn’t want -- I mean, after the Valiant.”
Jack’s expression cleared as he got what the Doctor was trying to say. “Oh, you mean because the Master paraded me around naked so much?”
The Doctor swallowed and nodded.
Grinning wryly, Jack shook his head. “He did that because he meant to humiliate me. It was just one of the mistakes he made. He didn’t realize that I don’t have any issues around being naked. Not a hardship for me.” He reached out and stroked the soft wool of his trousers. “It isn’t that I’m not glad to have clean clothes again, but here at the beach I don’t need them. And yeah, it’s on my terms now, which is better.” He frowned again. “Unless it makes you uncomfortable.”
Waving a hand to shoo him toward the door, the Doctor said, “No! Up to you, it is. Just don’t expect me to go prancing about in the altogether.”
Jack grinned and leered at him playfully. “I hope you change your mind. I’d love to get a look at your Time Lordly assets.”
The Doctor had to chuckle. “Don’t count on it. Off you go, then.”
With a final grin Jack turned and trotted toward the door. The Doctor admired his broad shoulders and muscular back, tapering to a slim waist and stunning bum. His skin was as flawless and creamy as a newborn babe.
Suddenly the scene before the Doctor changed completely. He could still see Jack’s naked back, but his hands were bound together and pulled over his head, attached to the ceiling by chains. A floating silver ball, a Toclafane as the Master called them, bobbed behind Jack, laughing gleefully as it used a protruding blade to play tick tack toe on Jack’s skin. It carved and slashed, causing blood to stream down Jack’s body and drip onto the floor. When it got three x's in a row, it drew a deep line diagonally through the symbols, shrieking maniacally, “I win! I win!” Then it stopped and pouted exaggeratedly, “But my game board is ruined. Have to use the other side.” It zipped around in front of Jack where the Doctor couldn’t see, but could imagine it starting another game.
The Master stepped forward, pulling a latex glove onto his hand with a snap. Sometimes he enjoyed being spattered with blood and gore, and sometimes he was almost comically fastidious. On this occasion he ran his gloved hand across the broken skin, smoothing blood down Jack’s back and over the curve of his arse.
“Don’t you like playing with my kids, Captain?” the Master teased. “Good fun, isn’t it? Jolly little things.”
“They cheat,” Jack answered, his voice strained.
“Of course they do!” The Master said. “It’s the best way to make sure they win. I taught them that. They’re adorably clever, aren’t they? Aren’t they clever?”
The Toclafane bobbed up over Jack’s shoulder. “Master! Master! I want to play again but it’s all messy now.”
“Poor baby,” the Master crooned sympathetically, pursing his lips. “You know what to do to get a clean slate. Go on then.”
“Yes, Master!”
The silver globe disappeared in front of Jack again, and shoved the thin blade so far into the centre of Jack’s chest that it protruded out of his back. Jack choked and coughed, then slumped, hanging limply in his chains.
The Master turned and faced the Doctor. “Aren’t you bored yet?” he coaxed. “It would be more fun if you challenged the little one to a game.” He held out a knife, handle end toward the Doctor.
The Doctor couldn’t move. He wanted to leap up, knock the knife away and release Jack. But he was old and frail and could barely stand. Even if he were young, it wouldn’t do any good. Nothing would do any good. The Master would just recapture Jack and begin again. The Doctor sat impassively, but his hearts pounded in his chest.
When his vision cleared, his hearts were still pounding. Now, though, he was looking out the door of the TARDIS at a beautiful, sunny day. He stumbled forward, supporting himself in the doorframe. He could see Jack in the water, floating face up. He swam a few smooth backstrokes, flipped over, dived, resurfaced moments later, then turned onto his back again. He looked relaxed and peaceful, enjoying the sun and the water.
The Doctor’s heartbeats started to slow, but his chest still hurt. This was real. The other was past and over. Only, sometimes, it didn’t feel that way.
+++++++++
Jack let the water swirl over him, caressing him intimately and gently, soothing away the ghostly memories of unwanted touch. When he kicked his legs, it felt like a lover's hands skimming down the long muscles of his thighs. When he floated, the water tickled his genitals playfully, leaving him tingling. His hair floated freely around his head, as weightless as he felt. Being alive was actually a pleasure, and it had been way too long since he could say that.
It was almost too much. Something shifted inside, but he tamped it down firmly. Not yet, not now. Today was just to relax and enjoy.
Jack flipped over in the water and looked back toward the shore. The TARDIS had landed just above the high tide line, where a thick forest met the white sand beach, and it made a pretty setting. The Doctor had brought out two low beach chairs, and was sitting in one. In deference to the balmy weather he was actually down to trousers and shirt sleeves. Jack chuckled and murmured to himself, "Go wild, Doc."
He swam in until he could stand on the ocean floor, then walked slowly out of the water. As gravity re-exerted itself, the flexing of his muscles made him feel strong and solid, at home in his body again. Even the heat of the sand against his feet was exhilarating.
When he got close enough, the Doctor handed him a fluffy white towel, which Jack accepted gratefully. After using it to quickly wipe down his body, he wrapped it around his waist. He wouldn't usually bother, but he didn't think the Doctor was completely comfortable with his nudity, and Jack wasn't actually trying to provoke him. Not much, anyway.
Jack sank back into his chair with a sigh and felt the laziness of true relaxation creeping up on him. The chairs were set under some overhanging trees, and the dappled sunlight provided the perfect temperature as the breeze dried his skin. He stretched his legs out in front of him and dug into the sand with his toes. Absolute paradise.
He glanced at the Doctor, who looked like he was actually enjoying sitting still for once. The breeze ruffled his dishevelled hair and his eyes scanned the horizon where the light blue sky met the dark blue sea.
When Jack travelled with the Doctor and Rose before, they'd gone to Woman Wept with its spectacular frozen seascapes, but they'd never been to a tropical beach together. Curious, Jack asked, "With that fair skin of yours, do you tan or go straight to sunburn?"
The Doctor lifted an eyebrow at him. "That depends on the sun, doesn't it? With this one, neither. Wrong spectrum. Now, I have to be very careful on Magelis V. Me and lobster red don't go well together." He waved a hand toward Jack's body. "And what about you? Should I expect you to turn into a bronzed god?"
Jack laughed. "I wish. No, if I'm out in the sun for a while I can work up to a healthy glow, but it fades pretty quickly. I guess I'm fated to go through eternity a dazzling shade of white."
"Well, it suits, anyway," the Doctor said. "And no worries about skin cancer either, I suppose."
"Nope. See, there are some advantages to my current state."
"That there are."
Jack asked the Doctor if he thought the TARDIS could supply the ingredients for some nice fruity beach drinks, but he fell asleep before either of them could be bothered to go find out.
++++++++++
Part 2