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: 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
++++++++
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
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return, Jack had withdrawn as quickly as he could and found something else with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
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
The Doctor looked at him with playful shock. "Never? Oh, we'll have to do something about that,
then.
"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
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.
++++++++++
As the world began to dim in the twilight, the Doctor noticed Jack
starting to get restless. After standing
and staring out to sea for a while, the immortal man said, "I'm going for
a walk."
"Right," the Doctor replied, but Jack was already disappearing
into the darkness along the shoreline, round white buttocks the last thing
visible. The Doctor shook his
head. He might at some point get used to
Jack wandering around naked, but he still found it a bit startling.
After tidying up the remains of their dinner, the Doctor started to get
restless, too. He thought about going
back into the TARDIS to run some more diagnostics, but it didn't appeal. In the end he decided to stretch his legs as
well, and set out for his own walk.
Instead of following the shoreline as Jack had, he chose the slightly more scrambly path along the tree
line. On one side of him the ocean
glittered in the light of the rising moon, and on the other side the muffled
noises of the forest at night provided a piquant contrast. It was a pleasant change from the grey
mechanization of the Valiant, and the Doctor found himself soaking in the peace
that surrounded him.
After half an hour of climbing over Ironwood roots and avoiding the
shells of fallen coconuts, he rounded a bend to see a long curved bay that led
to cliffs in the distance. The tide was
out, so there was a wide strip of sandy beach, and the moon cast dramatic
shadows that were very pleasing. The
Doctor's thoughts strayed to Rose for a moment, and he wished she were there to
see it. It didn't do to dwell on that,
though.
As his eyes adjusted to the scene, he noticed someone on the beach about
half way around the bay. Jack, most
likely. The Doctor continued forward
until he could see the figure properly, and then stopped. The peace of the evening crashed around him
as though it had never been and his stomach cramped.
It was Jack. He was kneeling at the shore facing inland,
the waves lapping just around his legs.
His arm went up and his fist came down to hit the wet sand with all his
strength, again and again. The Doctor
was far enough away that he couldn't hear over the rumble of the ocean, but he
could see that Jack's mouth was wide open in an extended, repeated scream. There was a glint of tears on his cheeks.
The Doctor forgot to breathe as the past year became real to him in a
way that hadn't previously penetrated his grief. He wasn't the only one hurting. There were real consequences of the Master's
reign of terror for people he cared very much about. Jack always seemed to bounce back so quickly
from everything that was done to him, with a smile and a joke at the
ready. This was there underneath it
though; anger, rage against his fear and powerlessness, pain.
He could feel the clench of Jack’s shoulders, the anguish in the droop
of his head, the burn in his throat, as if it were his own, and was shaken to
the core. He would give anything to be
able to truly take it on himself instead.
He wondered when this had happened.
When had he begun to care so much for Jack Harkness, the extroverted
flyboy? When had Jack’s pain become his
pain, Jack’s joy his joy? It must have
happened some time during the last year while the Doctor was distracted,
because he honestly hadn't known.
He shouldn't be here, the Doctor realized with growing distress. This was private and he wasn't supposed to
see it. He forced himself to turn away
and trudged back to the tree line. The
walk back to the TARDIS passed in a blur that was punctuated only by the need
to clear his stomach of its last meal.
When he reached their comfortable haven he dropped into the sand and
leaned his forehead against his drawn-up knees.
Despair at all the pain he was responsible for beckoned the Doctor, and
it would have been easy to give in to it.
He pulled his considerable inner resources to him, though, and made a
different decision.
More grief wouldn't help anything.
What would help, what he could do, was acknowledge Jack and move
on from the set of rules for proper behaviour he had established for himself
long ago. He'd never accepted the rules
other people tried to force on him, so why had he made so many for himself? Don't get attached. Don't let anyone see how you really feel, and
always pretend that you're unaware of their emotions. Say goodbye and don't look back. They hadn't exactly been working for him
lately, nor for the people around him, if he was
honest.
On the beach, why hadn't he gone to Jack and held him the way he'd held
the Master at the end? So many times he
hadn't been there for Jack when he should have been. He couldn't go back and do it all over, but
he could be here for him now.
He owed Jack some honesty, and more besides,
and there was no time like the present to start. The Doctor stood up and shook himself. There might be things worthy of fear in the
universe, but Jack Harkness wasn't one of them.
Looking around at their cosy campsite, he started to make plans.
++++++
Jack felt enervated as he walked back toward the TARDIS. Drained, but more at peace. It was a great relief to feel the dammed-up tension
start to clear. He was broken open and
sensitised, making the sand under his feet seem rougher and the evening breeze
bite sharper.
When he reached the part of the beach they had staked out for themselves
he almost didn't recognize it. Frowning,
he looked at the large tartan blanket that had been spread out on the flat sand
above the tide line, scattered with throw pillows. There were small candles in clear glass jars
set into the sand along the top edge, creating an inviting little oasis.
"Doctor?" he said.
The Time Lord stepped into the candlelight carrying an ice bucket with a
bottle of wine and two long-stemmed glasses.
"Oh, there you are," he said brightly. "Have a nice walk?"
"Uh, yeah."
"Good!" The Doctor deposited
the items on the edge of the blanket. "Join
me for a glass of wine? It's a d'Auvenay 2027 Chevalier-Montrachet. Good year, that. The sun almost exploding seemed to give the
grapes an extra oomph."
Jack had to chuckle. "I
don't want to know. Wine sounds
great."
The Doctor further surprised Jack by unbuttoning his shirt and sliding
it off, and he stared at the slender torso that was revealed. More than slender. Jack could count the ribs showing through the
tightly stretched layer of skin.
"Um, Doctor? Why are you
taking your clothes off?"
"Just being sociable." He unzipped his trousers and pushed them and
the white briefs off as well.
"You've been letting me look at you all day. Only seems fair to return the
favour." Prominent hip bones, long
limbs and yes, a more than adequate set of personal parts joined the show.
Unnerved, Jack managed to say, "I
certainly appreciate the gesture. Very much, in fact. Just
a little surprised, is all."
The Doctor didn't respond, but sat down
cross-legged on the blanket and picked up a wine glass. "Are you coming?"
Jack couldn't decide quite how lewd his answer
should be, so he just said, "Yes," and lowered himself beside the
Doctor.
The Doctor filled both wine glasses and handed
one to Jack. In the candle light the
wine glowed golden, and it was rich with subtle flavours; tart, yet sweetened
with apple and spiced honey overtones, and oh, so smooth.
As delightful as the wine was, it wasn't really enough to distract Jack
from the fact that the Doctor was sitting next to him naked. And looking surprisingly relaxed, too, all
things considered.
He leaned closer and turned up the heat in his voice just a bit. "You do realize that by human standards
this setting would be considered quite romantic, don't you? Seductive, even."
The Doctor met Jack's eyes over his wine glass and said, with some heat
of his own, "That would be true by most standards. Do you object?"
Jack was confused to the point of wondering if he was hallucinating, but
even so he knew what came next.
"Not a bit," he breathed, and closed the distance between
them, brushing his lips against the Doctor's.
The Doctor tasted earthy, almost smoky, like sautéed mushrooms. It was exactly how he would expect time to
taste if it had a flavour; deep and mysterious.
He immediately needed more, and pressed closer to the Doctor.
Jack's wine glass bumped into the other man's chest and Jack pulled
back, took the Doctor's glass from his hand and set them both down in the sand
beside the blanket. He then turned back
to the Doctor and ran his fingers over the high cheekbones and up into the
tousled hair. Holding the deep, brown eyes with his own, he said, “You don’t
have to do this.”
“Of course I don’t," the Doctor said matter-of-factly. "You don’t either. ‘S on offer, though, if you
want it.”
"It’s just that it’s so sudden."
"Not really," the Doctor corrected him. "You always were an attractive thing. And I was never as inflexible as you lot
liked to think."
"You hid it well," he said pointedly.
"Good at hiding things from people, I am. Especially from
myself."
"You were interested in me, though?" Jack asked, not quite convinced. "I thought you only had eyes for
Rose. That was certainly the impression
you gave."
“Well,” he drew the word out, “I did have a bit of a thing for Rose, and
it didn’t help that she would go on about how gorgeous you were. But it wasn’t like I hadn’t noticed that
myself. And it wasn't just how you
looked, either.”
Jack’s eyebrows went up.
The Doctor reflected for a moment, then said. “I needed Rose, you know? She helped me be a better person. But no matter how we felt about each other it
was never going to go past hand holding.
Wouldn’t have been right, not with her. You were a different kettle of fish. You're in a class by yourself, Jack Harkness. If certain events hadn’t intervened, I
probably would have let you buy me that drink.”
Jack grinned, liking what he was hearing. “Really?”
The Doctor nodded. “Really.”
Jack smiled smugly. “I thought I
saw you checking out my ass.”
“Oh, no,” the Doctor objected. “I
never would have let you catch me at it.”
As they laughed together the Doctor put his hand on Jack's leg. The directness of his gaze made it clear that
he wasn't having second thoughts.
Jack sighed. “A
lot of water under the bridge since then. We’re both different people, literally. I’m glad we’re doing this now, Doctor.”
“Better late than never?”
“Yeah. I have
to think that everything happened as it was supposed to, at the time it was
supposed to, to get us to this point.”
The Doctor shook his head. “The
longer I live the less sure I am about a divine plan.”
Jack settled the Doctor back onto the blanket and leaned over him. “How about divine kissing, then?”
“Oh, yes. True
believer, me.”
For a while Jack didn’t think about anything more serious than finding
more skin to touch.
++++++++
They lay together kissing and petting, exploring each other's mouths and
bodies – in an above the waist kind of way.
It was pleasantly intimate, and Jack wasn't going to rush through
anything. He didn't yet trust that it
wouldn't be a one-off event, and wanted it to last as long as possible.
He also needed time to get to know what the Doctor liked, to read the
signals for where the Doctor wanted to take this. Jack's experience had taught him that Time
Lord sexuality was not fundamentally different than
human, in terms of physiological function.
He didn't for one moment assume, however, that the Master was a typical
representative of the species.
Everything about the Doctor demonstrated that he wasn't.
And the Doctor did have limits.
He was clearly aroused, the erection brushing against Jack being a good
indication, but he was holding back.
Jack could only experiment and see how it went.
Not that it was a hardship. He
loved brushing his hands over the Doctor's skin. The prominence of the bones wasn't at all
off-putting. It was just right for this
version of the Doctor. Sylphlike, an inferno that burned away any excess, a rapier to
Jack's blunt instrument.
And he loved the light scattering of hair on the Doctor's chest,
something Jack had never considered. It
made him seem vulnerable, almost human.
Jack thought it was sweet, though he would never say that out loud.
Lying on their sides facing each other, Jack ran his hand down the
Doctor's back, tracing the ridges of his vertebrae. As he started to brush the gentle curve of
the Doctor's arse, the Doctor's body tensed.
Taking the hint, Jack skimmed his hip and continued down his thigh. He slipped his hand behind the Time Lord's
knee and pulled it up to hook over his own thigh, which the Doctor then used as
leverage to bring their pelvises into full contact.
Their cocks now aligned and rubbing together had Jack gasping as his
desire spiked. The Doctor used the arm
he had around Jack to pull their chests even closer, like he was trying to get
inside Jack's skin. The Doctor breathed,
"Jack," and the immortal human's heart almost burst. He had dreamed of hearing the Doctor say his
name with such need, had jerked off to the fantasy a number of times in fact,
but this was real. The Doctor truly did
want him, and it was no dream. Jack's eyes would close at times, just so that
he could feel the thrill of opening them again to see the Doctor's flushed face
so close to his own.
He took his lead from the Doctor, and tightened his own arms around the
other man, flexing his hips to grind against him. The Doctor grabbed Jack's head and kissed him
enthusiastically, messily, while letting out small greedy noises that made Jack
wild. They rocked together urgently, and
Jack would have laughed with happiness if it wouldn’t have disrupted the
rhythm. Jack thrust against the other
man as hard as he could, not holding back, because
though he might be skeletally thin, the Doctor was far from fragile.
They drove each other higher, the heat and desire building ecstatically,
between gasps and groans. There was no
technique involved, just unbridled lust, and it was the best that Jack had ever
had. He shouted as he climaxed,
"Doctor!" and felt the proverbial fireworks going off behind his
eyes. The Doctor mewled wantonly, the
pitch rising, until he came against Jack's belly.
Their grip on each other only slackened slightly as they recovered,
panting. The Doctor planted quick kisses
all over Jack's face and murmured, "Sorry.
I'm sorry for making you wait so long."
Jack slid his slightly shaky hand up the Doctor's back, and said,
"The last thing you need to do right now is apologize for anything." He grinned.
"You've made me a very happy man."
The Doctor answered with a small smile of his own. "My pleasure,
entirely."
The effects of the day catching up with him finally, Jack's body relaxed
to a blissful, floaty state. "You know, you wore me out so much that I
might even be able to sleep."
"Go ahead," the Doctor said gently. "I'll be right here."
With those words Jack was content to let himself be pulled into the
peaceful darkness.
++++++
When the dawn arrived they were still entwined with each other. Jack coaxed the reluctant Doctor into the
water with the intent of starting a tickle fight. Any excuse to get
his hands on the Doctor's body.
The Doctor went in up to his waist, but refused to go any farther. "Jack," he complained, "do you
know what's in the water here?"
"No," he answered, unconcerned, "do you?"
"Not exactly, but there are things. Here, in the
water. That we can't see. They could do anything. They could touch us. They could nibble." He shuddered.
"Hey, I didn't know you were thalassophobic. You could have said, and we could have gone
somewhere else."
"It's not a phobia. It's a
healthy respect born of less than pleasant experiences across the
universe. I don't like things lurking,
that may or may not have some degree of sentience, where I can't see
them."
Jack wrapped his arms around the Doctor and began to rub against him
temptingly. "How about we create
some better associations? I can promise
that nothing will touch you except me, and nothing will nibble on you except
me. And I won't be lurking; you'll see
me coming a mile away."
That made the Doctor smile.
"I always do."
The generation of endorphins helped the Doctor relax, and soon they were
playing happily in the water, which was absolutely pure – no sign yet of
pollution or trash – and held no monsters larger than minnows.
The Doctor didn't stay in long, though, and when he got out he began
pulling his clothes on. Jack was
disappointed when the skin vanished from sight, but wasn't going to complain. That was just how the Doctor was.
The Doctor engaged in something he called meditation, but looked more
like a coma to Jack. He found out the
hard way that the Doctor wouldn't come out of the trance-like state until he
was ready, even if Jack tried to get his attention. It was disconcerting to see his dynamic Time
Lord so still and helpless. It made all
Jack's protective instincts go into overdrive, and he never let the Doctor out
of his sight when he was like that.
It said something that the Doctor trusted Jack enough to make himself
that vulnerable, and it was a trust he was determined never to fail.
++++++
In the afternoon they hiked up the mountain behind the beach, and the
Doctor insisted that Jack put some kind of protective clothing on. There was no way he would be able to
concentrate on his footing through the lush tropical vegetation if he was
worried about Jack's sensitive bits being exposed to sharp leaves and poisonous
insects. In addition
to it being just plain distracting.
He knew it was a bit irrational to worry about it, because Jack healed
quickly from any injury, even if he didn't die.
But the Doctor was reluctant to take that for granted, to treat Jack as
an indestructible toy. Jack sometimes
saw himself that way, but it wasn't to be encouraged.
When Jack went off by himself again in the evening, the Doctor didn't
say anything about it. He just welcomed
him back later with hot tea and a cuddle.
The Doctor's friend, now lover, seemed to feel that he had been given
licence to touch the Doctor whenever he wanted.
It was admittedly pleasant, but did take some getting used to. He never objected, though, because it was
bringing out the more gregarious side of Jack; relaxed and affectionate. It reminded the Doctor of how Jack had been
before everything happened, when they were with Rose. It was nice to see again.
It also pleased the Doctor to see Jack sleeping. He knew that Jack didn't need to sleep much
anymore, even less than the Doctor did, and that he probably hadn't slept at
all during the last year, so the little cat naps he caught the younger man
taking at various points throughout the day had to be a good thing.
They spent the night outside on the blanket again, and the Doctor
studied Jack’s face as he dozed. All the
lines were gone, his face softly relaxed.
So different than…
The Doctor
studied Jack’s face as he hung in his chains.
Even dead, lines of pain distorted his features. He was still, but not at peace.
It had been a
fairly standard session as these things went.
With the Doctor parked in front of Jack in his wheelchair where he would
have a good view, the Master had raped Jack, had his guards beat him with hard
wooden batons, and then ordered them to use Jack as a target while they
practiced their knife throwing.
Throughout it all, Jack had maintained a grim stoicism, broken only by
his ongoing critical assessment of the skills demonstrated by each successive attacker.
It went on for
quite a while, since the more often Jack died, the harder it seemed to be to
kill him. There had been dozens of deep
wounds all over Jack’s body by the time one of the men had slipped and sent his
blade straight through Jack’s heart, which did still tend to be fatal.
What was unusual
was that the Master had then gone off to arrange a suitable punishment for the
guard who had cut short his fun, leaving the Doctor there on his own. He didn’t know if it was an oversight or part
of some twisted plan. It didn’t really
matter, since the Doctor couldn’t do anything about it either way.
He sat and
watched Jack. He was getting much better
at it, ironically due in large part to the Master’s insistence that he witness the
'Freak’s' torture. At first it had been hard
for him to look at Jack. Not only
because of the discomfort caused by his condition as a fixed point in time; it was actually difficult to see the unique human. Unless the Doctor concentrated, his eyes
would slide away from his former companion to focus on the wall, the ceiling,
anything but Jack, almost as though he had a permanent perception filter.
Allowing Jack to
suffer alone, however, was more wrong than his distasteful permanence, so the
Doctor did concentrate. He trained
himself to see Jack, forced his eyes to trace the lines of his body, noticed
the nuance of his reactions and catalogued his expressions. It still wasn’t like looking at a regular
human, but really, the Doctor had known quite a variety of life forms, and this
wasn’t so different.
The Doctor was
slightly surprised to find that Jack wasn’t exactly the same as he had been
before, when he had last seen the younger man on the Game Station, bravely
going off to fight the Daleks. He had filled out more, matured. He was a more substantial man now, and even
better looking. One thing that hadn’t
changed was that he was still bloody cheeky.
By now the
instinctive aversion was completely overcome, and the Doctor could sit and look
at Jack for as long as he wanted to, which meant that he was quite the expert
on what Jack looked like dead. It was
still disturbing, no matter how many times he’d seen it, no matter that he knew
it would be reversed. When alive, Jack’s
personality filled the whole room with vibrancy. When he was dead, the universe was a poorer
place.
The Doctor was
horrified by how cavalierly he had treated Jack’s deaths when they were first
reunited on Malcassairo. He hoped that it was because of his
difficulty really seeing Jack, and not a true indifference to the fate of a
sentient being, and a good friend at that.
He didn’t feel indifferent now.
Even streaked in blood and covered in dirt and bruises, even dead, Jack
was beautiful. One good thing that had
come of the whole situation was that the Doctor could once again appreciate
that.
So he sat his
vigil, waiting for Jack to revive. After
about twenty minutes the wounds began to disappear and the bruises fade, which
was, it had to be said, eerie. The
knives that were still embedded in Jack’s body fell to the floor, pushed out as
his body healed itself. Jack heaved a
breath as he returned to life, gasping and grimacing, then got his feet under
himself and stood.
His head bowed,
Jack just breathed for a moment, swaying slightly. Some day the Doctor would have to ask him
what it felt like to come back to life.
It didn’t look pleasant.
When Jack lifted
his head his eyes widened at the sight of the Doctor. He looked around quickly, searching for the
Master or his goons, clearly surprised to find them alone. “Well, this makes a change,” he said.
The Doctor grabbed
the wheels of his chair and used all his strength to move slowly toward Jack.
“Hey, take it
easy, Doctor,” Jack protested. “Don’t
give yourself a coronary.”
Determined, the
Doctor ignored him and kept going. By
the time he came to a stop directly in front of Jack he was panting, but
pleased with himself. He looked up into
those intense blue eyes. After so long silent
it was hard to get words out.
"I'm sorry,
Captain.”
Jack grinned and
shook his head. “None of this is your
fault.” He looked around again. “Is he watching? Should we expect him to come in guns blazing
to punish us for talking? You shouldn’t
take the chance. I understand why you
don’t speak. You’re doing great.”
The Doctor
frowned and reached down to lock the handbrake on the wheel chair. Then he moved his frail legs to the ground
and pushed himself up on the arms, trying to stand. Jack shifted in his chains so that he could
lower one arm as far as possible, and the Doctor grabbed hold of it. Jack straightened, pulling the Doctor the
rest of the way up. He leaned forward to
support himself against Jack’s chest, his cheek resting on Jack’s
shoulder. The man was filthy and stank,
but the Doctor couldn't have cared less.
From there he could whisper into his friend’s ear with less chance of
being overheard.
"If I could
stop what he’s doing to you," he grated out, "I would.”
“I know,” Jack
said softly. “You’d stop what he’s doing
to me and to the planet. You will stop
him. I believe in you.”
Alarmed, the
Doctor raised his head. If Jack knew
what the Doctor was preparing the Master would stop at nothing to rip the
knowledge out of his head.
Jack leaned
toward him and whispered, “I don’t know what your plan is and I don’t need to,
but I know you have one. I’ll be ready
to help when the time comes. You can
count on me.”
The Doctor shook
his head. “Escape if you can. Don’t let him hurt you more than necessary.”
The human met
and held the Doctor’s eyes. “Don’t do
this," he insisted. "Don’t
wind yourself up about me. Look, Doctor,
was it Nietzsche who said, ‘What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger’? Well, at this point I’m pretty damn
strong. He has no idea. Don’t waste your energy worrying about me.”
“Jack.”
“I mean it, I
can take this. He won’t break me. He’s purposely debilitated you and you have
to use your energy wisely, this is too important.”
In the face of
that conviction and sincerity the Doctor could do nothing but nod in agreement.
At that point
the Master had stormed in, furious. He'd
grabbed the Doctor’s shoulder and flung him back into his chair. “You are talking to the Freak! That’s not allowed. Why do you insist on defying me, Doctor?”
“Hey,” Jack
interjected jokingly. “It’s my natural
magnetism. No one can resist me. Not even you, Saxon.”
The Master
grabbed one of the ever-present knives and turned, swinging his arm out so that
the point of the blade crunched through the cartilage at the base of Jack’s
throat. Grabbing the Doctor’s wheelchair,
he pushed him out the door before Jack had finished dying.
The Doctor blinked and refocused on the face in front of him. Jack was awake and was watching him solemnly.
"Where do you go," Jack asked quietly, "when that
happens? What do you see?"
His breath caught in his throat.
The Doctor hadn't realized that Jack had noticed these spells; had hoped
that Jack wouldn't notice, because he didn't exactly want to talk about it.
"Are they blackouts? Flashbacks? Something
unique to Time Lord physiology?" Jack's questions were gentle and curious, not
judgemental or threatening, which helped.
The Doctor picked the most applicable answer. "Flashbacks."
"From the Valiant, or before?"
"The Valiant."
Jack nodded. "It seems to be
happening less often. Is that
accurate?"
The Doctor nodded tentatively. "Seems to be."
"Is there anything I can do to help? Is it something we should be concerned
about?"
The Doctor shook his head.
"No."
Jack waited for him to say more, then, when the Doctor didn't elaborate,
said, "Okay," and closed his eyes.
Since Jack was going to let it go, suddenly the Doctor wanted him to
understand. "Nothing like this has
happened before," he blurted, regaining Jack's attention. "I don't do catharsis. It doesn't work for me." Jack's eyes widened. He probably hadn't realized that the Doctor
knew about that. "I usually just
move on. Keep moving,
that's the key. Don't dwell on
it. Push it back until it's no longer
important."
"That works for you?" Jack asked incredulously.
"Well enough. 'S just how I
am. This time it's different,
though." He shook his head with
frustration. "It won't stay boxed
up like it ought to."
"Why do you think that is?"
"I think," the Doctor took a deep breath, "that it has to
do with how I stopped the Master. To
connect to the Archangel Network I opened my mind farther than ever before, and
then I touched the minds of millions of people as they sent me the energy I
needed. It's as though it blew some
circuits that still haven't been reset.
Feels raw, you know?"
"That makes sense," Jack agreed thoughtfully. "What can we do?"
"Just wait," the Doctor shrugged. "Keep reminding me that it's over. Meditation helps." He added, a bit self-consciously,
"Seeing you whole and healthy helps."
Jack moved closer and shifted the Doctor so that their bodies pressed
together.
"And feeling me whole and
healthy, does that help, too?"
The Doctor realized that it did.
Jack's heat and solidity grounded him in the present and made it hard to
think about anything else. He settled in
closer.
"Yeah, it does."
"Good." Jack wrapped
his arms around him.
They were quiet for a long time after that. The Doctor didn't think Jack was sleeping
either, but it was comfortable. The
stars overhead shifted about ten degrees before Jack spoke again.
"I doubt there's ever going to be a good time to ask this, so I'm just
gonna do it."
The Doctor tensed, not liking the sound of that. "Did he," Jack hesitated, "did
the Master, um, hurt you?"
The Doctor pulled back enough to look at Jack, not sure how to answer
that.
Jack went on earnestly, "I know he aged you, and knocked you
around, and made you watch him destroy a planet you love, and even turned you
into a gnome for a while. That's not
what I mean. Did he physically, do
things…" he trailed off.
The Doctor thought he understood, and put it bluntly. "Are you asking if he sexually assaulted
me?"
"Yes." Jack sounded
relieved at not having to spell it out.
It was amazing how Jack had zeroed in on the one area, amongst so many, that
the Doctor least wanted to address. The
pain in his chest quickly reappeared, and he was tempted to get up and walk
away. Very tempted. He had to stop himself doing it.
But it was brave of Jack to bring it up.
If the Doctor brushed it aside now, he doubted that Jack would try again,
and he deserved an answer. Since they
were doing middle-of-the-night confessions, it was as good a time as any to get
this conversation over with.
"No, he
didn't," he said honestly.
Jack sighed with relief, then rushed on, "I'm
glad. I didn't see anything, but I
wondered, because of some of your reactions.
It's like something's put you off intimate contact. Which would be fine! I just want to know what's going on. I don't want to hurt you
unintentionally."
The Doctor explained, "Oh, there was obviously a strong erotic
charge between us, no denying that, always has been. But he'd made me old and frail, and if he'd
hurt me physically it might have killed me.
The Master needed me to be his audience much too badly to risk it. If I'd been young I don't expect he would
have held back, but as it was, he took it out on you instead."
This was the part they had never spoken a word about. The Master had committed violent sexual acts
against Jack, and had made the Doctor watch.
In fact, most of the people aboard the Valiant had watched at some
point. It horrified the Doctor, and he
had no clue how to talk about it.
He looked away from Jack and said, "What he did to you…" then
paused to collect his thoughts before trying again. "You were my proxy. In a way everything he did during that year
was for my benefit, but what he wanted to do to me directly, physically, he did
to you instead."
"I know," Jack whispered.
"All the time I watched him acting out his sadistic impulses on
you, I knew it was my fault. I wanted to
stop him, to protect you, but I couldn't do anything."
Jack touched the Doctor's cheek and turned his head so they faced each
other again. "You did stop
him. You rose up, shining like a warrior
angel, and made everything right. You
saved everyone, including me."
The Doctor shook his head unhappily.
"Too late.
Nothing turned back time so that you were
spared. Not you nor Martha and her
family, nor anyone else on board."
"Nor you," Jack added.
"Nor me," he agreed.
"And now I can't forget.
When I touch you, I sometimes see…
I'm not like him. I don't want to
be like him. I don't want to hurt
you." There, he'd said it. It was almost a relief, but not quite. The Doctor knew he was making what had
happened to Jack be about him, and he
felt guilty about it, but it really was an obstacle between them here and now.
Jack sat up and pulled the Doctor to sit facing him. The starlight infused the younger man with a soft
glow that almost moved the Doctor to tears.
Who looked like an angel now?
"Doctor, you are nothing like him.
Nothing at all.
I guess I need to explain this.
What he did to me didn't matter."
"No," the Doctor protested, shaking his head.
"Hear me out. A lot has
happened to me in my life, both before I met you and after. I know the difference when someone wants to
hurt me with sex and when they don't.
And when someone's using sex as a weapon it doesn't count."
The Doctor was suddenly angry – at everyone who had hurt Jack, and at
Jack for not being angrier on his own behalf.
"So you can just brush it off that easily?" he asked, his
voice hardened.
"No!" Jack insisted in response. "It's never easy, but I have my ways of
dealing with it, both at the time and after.
And I made a decision. I enjoy
life and I love sex. I'm not going to
let anyone take that away from me. Certainly not him." The derision in Jack's voice made clear he
was talking about the Master.
"I mean that," Jack went on.
"I like what we're doing together.
I," he paused to swallow.
"I love you, and I want to share everything I can with you. I refuse to let him ruin that, and that's my
decision. I'm not saying anything
specific has to happen between us, but I do hope you get to the point where you
don't see him every time you look at me.
I want you, Doctor, and you're not like him at all. I wish you could believe that."
The Doctor was slightly stunned.
What Jack was saying…made sense. It was admirable, and was a demonstration of
just how strong the other man was. The
least the Doctor could do was meet him half way.
He leaned forward and kissed Jack lightly on the lips. "I want that too. And I'll get there. Just give me time."
Jack relaxed and rested his forehead against the Doctor's. "Take all the time you need. That's one thing we've got plenty of."
++++++
The days took on a dreamlike quality, filled with swims, walks, hikes,
naps, meditation, and lovemaking.
Jack loved what they were becoming together. They could be playful, sometimes competitive,
sometimes serious, and sometimes allowing each other time alone. Whatever issues the two of them had had were
softening around the edges. Jack
understood better, if not perfectly, some of the choices the Doctor had made
along the way, and with that understanding came true forgiveness. It was good to release his image of the
Doctor as a superior, perfect, god-like being, and accept him as a man. A remarkable, singular man,
true, but with imperfections that Jack could totally identify with.
And the inner man that the Doctor was allowing Jack to see for the first
time cared for Jack, too, and was capable of showing it. He was accepting that Jack's way of
interacting with the universe was different than his own, but not intrinsically
inferior. The Doctor was learning to
understand and value who Jack was; his strengths as well as his
weaknesses. That was something Jack
counted as a miracle every single day.
They were living a moment out of time and it wouldn't last, he knew, but
Jack would treasure it as long as he could.
+++++++
The Doctor had arranged Jack on his back with his legs spread, while he comfortably
sprawled between them. He had one of
Jack's testicles in his mouth, gently rolling it with his tongue. The flavours were quite intriguing. On the surface there was a hint of salt and
an animal musk that was no doubt a legacy of the human's primate
ancestors.
On the scrotum itself those were the primary essences, along with
'Jack's Skin,' a basic undertone that the Doctor had become familiar with very
quickly. Within, though, the testis was
exuding testosterone, which had a sharp bite to it. It was highly stimulating, and the Doctor knew
he could become addicted to it, if he wasn't careful. Especially when he thought about how large a
part it played in making Jack who he was.
Nice, healthy testosterone production, that.
The scrotum was slightly cooler than the rest of Jack's body, but the
Doctor's mouth was still a lower temperature than the sensitive sack was used
to. A couple of pesky muscles kept
trying to pull the organ back up closer to Jack's body, but a few gentle tugs,
teeth scraping for emphasis, brought it back down again for the Doctor's
convenience.
Jack was moaning and twitching, but the Doctor already had his hips well
restrained so that he could explore without interruption.
Releasing the first testicle from his mouth with a pop, the Doctor moved
to the other one. Much the same, though
the relative amount of male hormone was slightly lower here. The density of seminiferous
tubules appeared to be somewhat greater, however, giving it a slightly larger
circumference. The Doctor wasn't sure
which one he liked better, and proceeded to thoroughly compare and contrast.
Jack was making some incoherent noises that might have meant he was
trying to speak, but the Doctor ignored them as irrelevant.
There was an increasingly noticeable tang of seminal fluid and
gametes. The Doctor's senses were so
well developed that with some concentration he could have a good go at mapping
Jack's DNA, but he decided to leave that for another time.
The smooth skin just behind the scrotum, the perineum, attracted his
attention. It was a slightly different
texture, with an increasing concentration of essence of Jack, but there was
more. The Doctor sensed something inside
that drew him closer, like a spark of fire.
Perhaps a bit of the Time Vortex that shouldn't be in Jack but was
anyway.
The Doctor was intrigued, and probed harder with his tongue to see what
more he could detect. There it was
again. Hmm, very
interesting. He made that noise,
"Hmm," and a tremor like an electric shock reverberated through
Jack's body. His arms still holding
Jack's thighs down, the Doctor slid both his hands under Jack's lower back and
released a bit of time energy into his root chakra, to see if that made any
difference.
Jack shouted incoherently and the Doctor frowned, because it sounded a
bit like pain, but he didn't see anything that could be doing any harm. And the flavour of the burst of time,
filtered through Jack and onto his tongue, was so very sweet, like maple syrup
laced with sugar cane. It engaged the
Doctor's sweet tooth and was completely distracting, and he found himself
sucking happily for several minutes.
There was more to explore, though, so he shifted to the base of Jack's
penis, and with the flat of his tongue licked up the underside in one motion,
tracing the large vein. There, the hot
rush of blood was the dominant flavour. Life, nutrients, oxygen, white cells and red cells, various other
bits and bobs. All racing frantically
round and round; it was quite exhilarating.
He took the glans into his mouth and tested
its spongy texture. And oh, there was
the urethral opening, just begging to be investigated. Using the tip of his tongue, the Doctor
pushed and wiggled as far in as he could.
What a wealth of treasure! The
gathering fluid was a bit alkaline, rich with amines, and was that
fructose? Yes, he determined that it
was. A drop or two of nice, thick semen,
too, as a special treat.
The Doctor opened his mouth wider and engulfed the entire organ,
relaxing his throat and engaging his respiratory bypass system. It was so very hot - swollen and gorged with
blood. It twitched as though it were a live creature, and the Doctor amused himself by
tickling and teasing it with his tongue.
At this point he had to put more effort into holding Jack's hips down,
as the man was beginning to actually writhe under him. He would have to put up with it a bit longer,
since the Doctor hadn't quite finished yet.
With the penis entirely inside the Doctor's mouth, his nose brushed
pubic hair. A nice,
neat little patch. As he noticed
the characteristic 51st Century pheromones nestled there, he
wondered if body hair design was also a genetically engineered characteristic. Nicely done, in any case.
Those pheromones were indeed a spectacular distillation. They made the Doctor a little light
headed. Of course he'd noticed them
before; one could hardly help it, the way Jack walked around enveloped in a
cloud of them, but this concentration was particularly effective. They made the Doctor…want Jack. Want to devour him, swallow him, have as much
of him as he could get.
His throat worked around the tip of the penis that was lodged in it, and
then the Doctor got his reward.
Accompanied by a great, bloody cry on Jack's part, seminal fluid began
to pump out of the tip. The Doctor pulled up enough to make sure that he got a
few good pulses directly onto his tongue.
The semen was a delightful mix of so many elements, with amino acids,
enzymes, proteins, minerals, this and that.
All those lovely wiggly little spermatozoa.
He sucked a bit, making sure he didn't miss a drop of it. When the stream finally ceased, the Doctor
reluctantly released the organ from his mouth.
As he savoured the lingering taste, he looked up at Jack, who had gone
completely limp and still. In fact, he
appeared to be unconscious. The poor man
must be tired, to have dropped off into another nap right in the middle of the
day.
The Doctor licked his lips and smirked down at his lover. He had won that round quite thoroughly.
++++++
It was getting closer to the time to leave. They both knew it without discussing it. The items that had been scattered around on
the beach had begun to migrate back into the TARDIS; they were taking the last
swims, the final walks.
Jack wasn't going to stay with the Doctor, and was dreading telling his
lover, so he just kept putting it off.
It wasn't that travelling with the Doctor wasn't an exciting and
tempting prospect, but it wasn't the right time. So much had happened during the last week,
the last year, the last 150 years if it came to it,
that Jack's head was practically spinning.
He needed to sort himself out and be in top form when he finally joined
the Doctor on his journeys.
For a long time he'd thought of the TARDIS as home, one he didn't know
if he'd ever see again, but now he had a home of his own, too. All through the year on the Valiant he'd been
thinking about it. He'd held onto the
image of his team going about their normal lives in order to give himself a
focus outside of the ongoing drama.
Their normal lives? Well, there
was Gwen with her sometimes-for-brief-periods-something-approaching-normal
life. And Tosh's intensity and drive. Owen's sarcastic defence mechanisms and need to be shaken back into
himself every once in a while.
And of course Ianto's cute… accent. They still needed him and he still needed
them. It was something that had to play
out.
He was going to miss the Doctor, though, and worry about him. The Time Lord was recovering well, but it
might take him a while longer to completely get over the last year. At least he would still have Martha to look
after him, which was good.
At last there was nothing left on the beach but their blanket/bed. They would leave in the morning.
Jack sprawled on the blanket enjoying his last chance to feel the air on
his naked skin. As of tomorrow it would
be back to the many layers of clothing that
When the Doctor joined Jack he was carrying something in his hand. He flopped down on the blanket and solemnly
handed the item to Jack. It was a tube
of personal lubricant. Boots brand of
all things. Surprised, he looked at the
Doctor for clarification.
"I'd like to have penetrative intercourse with you," the
Doctor said. "It's been quite a
long while, but I remember the basics.
Not terribly difficult, if memory serves. Whichever way it goes, I'm game. If you want to, that is. Do you want to?"
Jack smiled so broadly that it almost broke his face. He took the Doctor's hand and placed it on
his already stiffening member.
"What do you think?"
This was just what Jack needed to put recent experiences behind him for
good.
The Doctor grinned back and closed his hand around Jack's cock. "Good enough. How do you want to do this?"
"I want you to top me," Jack said gravely. "I really want you to. Please."
"All right then." The
Doctor took Jack's face in his hands and kissed him deeply.
Jack ended up on his back with the Doctor alternating between kissing him
and nibbling on his nipples, bless his oral fixation,
while one dexterous hand stretched and lubricated him. Then the Doctor lay down on his back and
slicked his own erection with slow, sensual strokes.
Jack couldn’t take his eyes off of the hard cock pointing straight up at
the sky. Oh, yes. He wanted that very, very much.
++++++
The Doctor smiled at the younger man's wide-eyed desire. As often as he had complained about Jack's
flirtatious sexuality, it was quite heady to be the focus of that burning
intensity. So human,
so male, more powerful than he knew.
The Doctor was pleased to be able to finally welcome it rather than hide
from it.
"Come on, then," he said, hearing the crack in his own
voice.
"Yes, Doctor." Jack's
smile was completely triumphant as he straddled the Doctor, positioned the
Doctor's cock, and lowered himself slowly onto it.
The Doctor thought that any gloating on Jack's part was quite justified,
because it was exquisite. Not only the
tight heat of Jack's body, but the arch of his back, which displayed his
muscular chest and abdomen, and more than anything the look on his face.
When he had settled completely, taking in all of the
Doctor, Jack laughed breathlessly and smiled down at him. His head fell forward and he steadied himself
with his hands on the Doctor’s shoulders.
His expression was incredibly soft.
“This is generally about friction and the prostate,” Jack said tenderly,
“but with you it’s so much more. You’ve
been inside my heart since the day I met you, Doctor. Feeling you inside my body now
is…it’s….” He panted a series of quick
breaths as emotion played over his face.
Sometimes when the Doctor looked into Jack’s eyes they were deep with
the weight of struggle. Now Jack’s eyes
were deep with joy. The Doctor had
little experience, in all his years, with this sort of openness and generosity.
His own race had tended to be more
reserved and perfunctory, and didn’t expose themselves to others readily. It wasn’t, the Doctor reflected, one of their
better qualities.
It was a little thing, not particularly difficult to achieve, this age-old
sacrament of the joining of two bodies.
That it could mean so much to Jack was nothing short of beautiful.
The Doctor reached up and cupped his palm around Jack’s jaw. “You’re such a gift to me.” The look they shared communicated volumes
that would probably never be spoken.
The Doctor murmured, “Show me how much you like it. Show me your pleasure, Jack.”
The younger man didn't hesitate to comply. He moved over the Doctor, rising and falling,
finding the speed and rhythm that would take them both higher. He rolled his head and moaned with every
spike of pleasure, holding nothing back.
As his own excitement grew, the Doctor enjoyed watching Jack's pretty cock
bob between them. He had also developed
a certain fixation on the other man's thighs, and found that they were
perfectly positioned to grip and savour the movement of muscle under the skin.
The Doctor took in the scene. His handsome Jack, flushed and sweaty with exertion, framed by a
million stars in the night sky.
The two of them joined as one. It
was a moment of perfect happiness. The
Doctor had an excellent memory when he chose to, and would keep this with him
for a long time.
Later, as they lay together in sated, drowsy contentment, a different
memory came to him unbidden.
Jack was on his
knees, bound so securely in chains that he couldn't move. The rope around his neck was twisted with a
stick through the end, making it easy for the Master to tighten or loosen it at
will. The other Time Lord was bent over
the immortal man, snarling into his face.
"You want
the Doctor, don't you, Freak? I'm so
glad that you do. It's fantastic. Because you'll never have
him. He'll never want you. You want to know why? I'll tell you, and no, you don't even have to
say please. It's because you're disgusting. You make a Time Lord's skin crawl with your
wrongness. You're an abomination; even I
think so. Imagine how much more the
Doctor hates what you are."
Jack's face was red and he was fighting to breathe
past the constriction, but he managed to spit, "Bullshit."
The Master
tightened the rope another fraction.
"Oh, you think so? Given the
choice, the Doctor would always choose me over you. You know it's true. That's because I feel right to him, oh, so
very right. We're the same. Our minds can sing and soar together, while
you are just a repulsive lump. You're
like fingernails on a blackboard to a Time Lord, like the smell of vomit. You can live forever, and he'll never, ever
care for you. How does
it feel to know that, Freak?"
It was ugly, but it was just a memory.
It made the Doctor sad to think of it, but he never lost his awareness
of where he was and who he was with. The
past was starting to lose its hold over him.
In the present, Jack was lying in the Doctor's arms with his head resting
on the Doctor's chest. The Time Lord
idly stroked the warmer human skin, feeling gratitude more than anything
else. If Jack didn't know that the
Master's words were a lie at the time, he hoped that he knew it now.
++++++
Jack wasn't going to stay with him.
The Doctor could tell by the way Jack held himself – reluctant to say
something the Doctor wasn't going to want to hear.
The TARDIS materialized on the Valiant less than an hour after it had
left, and Martha soon joined them. After
a round of enthusiastic hugs the Doctor asked brightly, "So! Where to next?" He pretended not to see the uneasy look his
companions exchanged.
Jack said, apologetically but firmly, "
The Doctor knew what he meant, had been expecting it, but that was no
reason to give in. After the effort he
had gone to to open up to Jack, he found it more
difficult than he'd imagined to let him go.
"Good idea. The TARDIS does
need refuelling, and I could do with a nice plate of chips."
Jack met his eyes directly and didn't waver. "Yeah, you can do that, too."
After a moment the Doctor accepted what he couldn't change. "All right.
He went to the controls to set the coordinates. He briefly toyed with the idea of going to
"Where is he?" he asked Martha.
"He went to his room."
She gave him a look and then said, "I'll wait outside."
The Doctor found Jack straightening the items on top of the dresser in
his room. He was wearing his greatcoat,
but there was no duffel bag in evidence.
"Are you going to pack?" he asked quietly.
"No," Jack said and turned to look at him. "I thought I would leave all this
here. For next
time."
The Doctor tried not to let the relief show on his face, but thought it
probably did anyway. Jack walked over to
him and pulled him into a warm embrace.
"As far as I'm concerned, Doctor, there'll always be a next
time."
The Doctor nodded against his shoulder, and Jack tightened his
arms.
"Don't doubt that. Don't
doubt me or how I feel about you. That
hasn't changed. I just need to get my
life back to normal for a while. Captain
Jack Harkness, Director of Torchwood 3 is who I want to be right now."
The Doctor nodded again and then pulled away to look at Jack. "All right. I'll come back later then, shall I? Five minutes?
Half an hour?" Then he smiled to show that he was joking,
mostly.
Jack laughed. "I'll let you
know."
"Okay then," the Doctor said with a final squeeze to Jack's
shoulder. "
As they walked back through the TARDIS, the Doctor reflected that he
actually knew what Jack meant. He felt
better after their tropical holiday, and he was anxious to get back to his
normal pursuits. Felt a little bit
excited about it even. And at least
Martha was still with him.
In spite of the Year that Never Was they were still alive, all three of
them, so he knew they were strong enough to survive anything.
END
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