for quitehomoerotic: Welcome to the 27th century

[rude_not_ginger]

Follows this.

It was one thing, watching your companion be ripped apart.

One very terrible thing, mind you, but one thing. The Doctor stayed prone on the ground, the sound of Jack's death screams ringing in his ears as that thing, whatever it was, tore him into several unpleasant pieces. It reminded him of the Year That Wasn't, of Jack's screams while the Master tortured him and the Doctor's frail body keeping him from helping. That was torture, far more brutal than anything the Master's tools could produce.

Once the loud stomps of the creature faded away, the Doctor struggled to get to his feet and limped to the place where Jack had been.

It was another thing, having to find his body for it to regrow.

It took some time to find his upper torso, limp and lifeless. It didn't take too terribly long to drag said upper torso to a safe, empty cave not far from the forest's edge (after all, what Jack no longer had in height, he also lost in weight. It didn't take long for time to start snapping around him and his body to start to regrow.

That was something else all together. Muscle and bone formed out of nothing, and while Jack wasn't coherent, he was still alive, screaming and thrashing as he reformed. The Doctor pressed his fingertips to Jack's temple and tried to take away the pain, but when that failed, he pressed his mind into a quiet, comatose state.

While Jack repaired, the Doctor covered him with his coat and sat, waiting. For all that they'd fought, for all that the Doctor swore he'd never want Jack back on the TARDIS again, he did care about him. He wanted him happy, even if he wasn't certain he could handle having him so close. Jack was willing to die for the Doctor, and this was just another example of how he could.

But the Doctor wouldn't leave. Not this time.

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Jack spun his head to the side, surprised, but pleasantly so. He nodded a little and reached his arm around the Doctor, supporting himself on him in turn. Leaning on each other, yes, that was good.

He looked around at the landscape in the half life, and between the trees ahead that they were walking through. It all seemed relatively straightforward, and well, that was a bad sign if ever there was one!

Jack laughed gently and nodded in agreement, "Yeah it does tend to work that way, doesn't it. You know if we turn up somewhere looking like this we're likely to cause mass panic. I mean, come on, a guy covered in blood and wearing no trousers, and you with a bullet wound in your leg covered in just as much blood as me. Doctor what were you doing, rolling on me?"

He teased him slightly and smiled as they made their way forward. It was better this way.

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"I did ask politely for you not to bleed on me, but you didn't seem to want to listen," the Doctor replied, his voice just as light.

This felt good, despite the incredible pain in his leg and his stiff, blood-soaked clothes. It felt good to be talking and teasing, not fighting and running. Well, the running would come, but not the same sort of running. Good, positive, life-or-death running.

He wanted to blame Jack for the discomfort between them. If Jack hadn't crossed that line, asked him to give him more---but why wouldn't he ask? Hadn't they mutually crossed many of the Doctor's previously-asserted lines?

A caw from a large animal overhead made the Doctor pick up the pace. "Quick, into the trees."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

"Well next time speak up a little!" he chastised, teasingly, "You know it's not very easy to hear when you're dead."

Jack beamed a smile over at the Doctor, and squeezed happily on his shoulder as they hobbled along the road together. He laughed to himself at just how ridiculous they must look to anyone. Certainly not like the heroes they usually are. Two men limping down the path together.

If it could stay like this, Jack thought, maybe things would be okay. Not that he'd be invited back, no, he didn't expect that. But parting the Doctor knowing the Doctor didn't hate him so much was a whole ton better than parting and thinking he did.

Jack ducked instinctively as he heard the noise above, and looked to see where it had come from. "Yes, sir," he nodded, and moved with him under the canopy and away from the path.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

The Doctor pulled him into the forest, which, even right at the edge, seemed impossibly thick and deep. The black trunks shone with vibrant mosses, and the leaves rustled with unpleasant-sounding creatures.

"I'll walk ahead," the Doctor said. "Keep an eye out for things you could step on."

He was loathe to lose the support of Jack's arm, but he would've been worse off with Jack dead or worse from something in this place. The Doctor took carefully placed steps ahead, one foot in front of the other.

"More of those insects, but they don't look so docile," he warned.

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Jack nodded in thanks, and squinted to see between the thick trees. "You know those old B movies you see," Jack mused idly, "the ones where there's always a deep dank forest and the characters go into it to find a short cut and come across something infinitely worse than if they'd just gone the long way round? Any of that seeming familiar to you right now?"

He poked his toe against something that looked like a worm that had been put in a microwave and noted to himself that he now had toenails.

Around him he could hear echoes of the local wildlife as the birds called to one another, and rustles through the trees as the insects moved.

"Don't suppose I ever thought to mention I don't like creepy crawlies, now did I?"

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"Just ignore them and they'll ignore you," the Doctor said, firmly, pushing further into the woods. "At least we can see them coming."

Which was, of course, the point in which something very large and very unpleasantly snake-like dropped from one of the branches, its fanged jaws missing the Doctor's head by inches.

There may or may not have been a girlie scream in there from the Doctor, though he'd never admit it. He leapt ahead, grabbing the nearest branch he could and taking a swing at the snake.

"Look out!"

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack moved out of the way of the snake and stepped back and up onto a stone. Seconds later, of course, he registered the high pitched noise that had come from the Doctor, and though he really ought to have been looking around himself to make sure there was nothing small (or large) and crawly about to attack him, he instead stared at the Doctor and started laughing.

His laugh was more a giggle than anything and a release of tension as much as anything else. He doubled up on himself a little and smacked a hand against his leg in amusement (which in hindsight he ought not have done considering how his legs hurt).

"Listen to you!" he continued to laugh, pointing a finger at the Doctor. "Mind out the way of the Oncoming Storm over here."

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The Doctor's feet sloshed in thick mud, but he had no time to worry about that or his pride (which was not happy at Jack's laughing at all). The snake swung its way back towards the Doctor and received a large thwack against its nose.

Its ego also bruised, the snake curled back up to the topmost branch.

"I was caught off-guard!" the Doctor pouted, tossing the branch aside. He put his hands on his hips and glared at his companion.

"Might want to watch out for that centipede by your foot, while you're laughing."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack was still laughing when the Doctor protested, and laughing too much to respond in any way other than waving a hand in his direction and laughing even more. Tears in his eyes at just how amused he was.

Luckily for him though (perhaps), his subconscious was listening, and he suddenly straightened his face and looked over, "By the what?" he said before glancing down and letting out a yelp of his own, kicking at the mostly-harmless insect that was inching it's way towards him.

He shrugged his shoulders back and pulled a face. Well that wasn't funny!

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

The Doctor barked out a laugh. "Not so funny when it's you, is it?"

He gestured to the insect. "That one's probably not going to hurt you, but you need to watch out for the ones that might. This isn't going to be an easy run-through, we don't know what we're dealing with.

They needed to get out of here. The Doctor was going to need new trousers, especially considering he was up to his knees in mind---

Wait.

Wait, he was only up to his feet a moment ago. He struggled to pull a foot out of the puddle he'd stepped into, but he found himself sinking.

"Jack!"

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack was busy brushing his hands down his coat, dusting off his bruised ego. Well it was a big centipede, and you never know, it could have been poisonous or something.

The Doctor was right though, they needed to be vigilant, there could be anything here. They were in unfamiliar territory, and hardly at the top of their game.

He made to step off his little rock, and looked over to the Doctor as he called out. Immediately, he noticed the problem.

"Doctor!" he called back and grabbed hold of one of the branches to his side, reaching his other hand out towards the Doctor he shouted, "Grab hold of my arm!"

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Many things about this were not good. The Doctor tried to dig his way to the edge of the puddle, but couldn't move his body for the undertoe. And, to his very unpleasant dismay, he felt something alive near his feet, slithering past his leg.

The Doctor reached out for Jack's arm, but he couldn't quite reach, his fingers, now slick with the alien quicksand, seemed to slip through.

"Try laying prone on the ground, and then reach for me, the angle should be enough to pull me out of the current," he said. The thing beneath the surface brushed his other leg. Or was it two things?

"And hurry!"

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" Jack said quickly as he scanned the surface to try and work out how far the bog spread out, and which would be the safest spot. They'd do no good if they both ended up getting sucked in.

At speed Jack found his spot and spread himself out on the ground, ignoring the little creatures that started to scale him. He hooked his foot over a branch to keep him from being pulled in and he reached both arms out towards the Doctor.

"Here!" he shouted, reaching to hook his hands under the Doctor's armpits. "Grip me and I'll get you out." He slid himself a little more along the muddy ground, and gripped his hands tight under the Doctor's arms.

"On three, one, two, three..." and he tugged.

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The mud had reached itself to about the Doctor's middle, and he felt the things beneath the surface start to twine their way around him, to hold him in place.

He gripped Jack's arms and hoped to whatever deities or Guardians might be out there that Jack not rip in half this time. But, as Jack tugged, the Doctor found his body slipping prone in the liquid and then, slowly out.

"Right, that's it. One more pull---"

A long, black tentacle shot out of the mud and gripped the Doctor around the middle, pulling back sharply.

"Not good! Not good!"

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

"Doctor!" Jack called out sharply and slid himself forward, inching himself as close as he could without being consumed by the mud himself.

"Oh no you don't," he shouted at the creature and reached one arm out for the tentacle, desperately trying to dislodge it from him. "Just look at me, Doctor," Jack said to him, trying to calm him so the creature didn't overcome him. "I'm not losing you, okay? I'm not losing you like this."

He kept a hand tight around the Doctor's arm, tugging against the pull of the creature. "Doctor, I'll get you out, I promise. Just trust me, okay? I will get you out. Now relax, the more you struggle the more these things win. If you relax it'll think it's got you so it'll ease off."

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

The Doctor ceased his kicking, which he thought he was doing quite well despite the thickness of the quicksand. He'd been caught by terrifying tentacle monsters before, this should not have been such a bad situation. He'd been through far worse! He relaxed and the monster's grip loosened, though it started to pull back, and pull the Doctor with it.

He caught movement just above Jack's head. Another centipede, this one with huge, black teeth, was crawling down a tree and towards them. Oh, that was all they needed. He then snapped his gaze back to Jack.

"Jack. When I say 'now', I need you to let go of me and roll over, all right? Do not look behind yourself. Okay, do not."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

"And what about you?!" Jack protested. He didn't want to let the Doctor down. He didn't want to see the Doctor consumed by whatever was under that mud.

Despite the Doctor's urging (or perhaps because of it), Jack wanted to glance back and look. He wanted to see what was coming for them. He could hear it behind him, and it didn't sound small. It didn't sound good.

"Okay," he agreed, "but don't you think I'm not getting you out there. I am. I promise you, I'm getting you out."

Behind him, he could hear the creature getting closer.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

And, as the Doctor had anticipated, the creature decided to crawl across Jack's back. The Doctor opened his mouth to cry 'now', but the monster in the quicksand pulled back so suddenly he found his face buried in mud.

He scrambled to take in a breath of air. "Jack, now!"

The creature made another tug. The Doctor flipped over again, face back in the quicksand. And again, before his upper torso went under the liquid, too.

"Jack!" This was very bad. This was really, really, really bad. This could absolutely not be the way he died. He'd been through so much worse! Quicksand and a tentacle monster??

Then, he heard the gunshots.

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The first thing he's aware of is a light in the room, a warm ambient light that just penetrates his eyelids. The next thing he notices is the heat, a pleasant and comfortable environment quite unlike that of the harsh forest.

The forest. The Doctor in the mud, getting consumed.

Jack opens his eyes sharply and sits up. He looks around in confusion, and down at himself. All the blood is gone and he's wearing a set of something that looks like hospital scrubs. He doesn't remember how he got here, or anything past the gunshots in the forest.

The gunshots.

He looks up from the raised bed he's on and sees a curtain all around him. A little like a hospital cubicle inside a very exclusive hospital. He breathes out a sigh and swings his legs over the bed. He feels fine now, if a little woozy. Woozy from something in his system, he considers, a drug of some sorts.

Climbing from the bed he steps over and pads around on his feet a little. The skin is utterly healed now, fixed like there'd never been a problem in the first place.

Stepping forward, he grabs hold of the curtain, and pulls it back.

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The Doctor didn't wake quite so quickly. It was something thick and unpleasant in his system, like sirlanomode or hydrotytrotype. He blinked his eyes, trying to grow accustomed to the unusually bright light.

His first thought was that he must've regenerated. He must've. He'd gone under that quicksand, he must've drowned and was brought here. It explained the huge gaps in his memory. He struggled to sit up and shifted a little in the bed. No, no, still had that mole between his shoulderblades.

Good. He loved that mole.

He heard the scraping of the curtain by his bed moving. So he was in a hospital? How did he get here, if he hadn't regenerated? Where was here? And where was---

Jack.

The Doctor grinned at the other man's appearance. "My turn for a 'hot nurse'?" he asked.

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Jack beamed a bright and relieved smile at seeing the Doctor and stepped over to his bed, resting his hands out on it.

"Oh that's what I am, is it?" he asked with an eyebrow arched. "Looking for a game of doctor's and nurses? I guess you've already got the qualifications and I'm sure I can slip into the role," he teased him gently, still smiling.

"Good to see you," he said a little softer, a little more real. "And nice outfit," he added, looking between himself and the Doctor, remarking on their new attire.

"We've been out a while," he pointed out to him, "I've got hair on my legs and I feel like I haven't eaten in a month. How's the leg?"

He glanced around the room, it looked cosy but clinical. Like a day room in a hospital. It was nice, but there was still that edge to it.

"I guess the locals must have found us, right?"

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The Doctor put his hand down to his leg. "Sore," he said. "But healing. Looks like it's been stitched up and oh that is disgusting."

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"What is?" Jack said, spinning his head back to the Doctor and wiping his grin from his face.

"Is something wrong?"

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"They've stitched it," he said, not bothering to hide his revulsion. "With a needle and thread! Digging little holes in the skin to pull two bits of skin and muscle together! It's---primitive!"

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"Seriously?" Jack said, incredulous. "Really, seriously? Just be thankful it's fixed and not bleeding out. You can get the stitches out when you get back to the TARDIS and fix it so it's good as new. Really, Doctor, you're such a baby sometimes."

He rolled his eyes and turned away again, starting to walk around the room. There was a couch and a coffee table, and on it a set of cups and bottles of drink with a box of something that might or might not be food. Atop that there sat a note and Jack lifted it.

"Hey, Doctor," he waved it between his fingers and stepped back over, sitting himself on the end of the Doctor's bed and kicking his feet about a little.

"It's in English," he said, surprised as he started reading the note. "Well, sort of English."

Turning his upper body towards the Doctor, he read aloud, "We enjoy that you made here, and we want for your enjoyment, we crave that you take your pleasure which is ours."

He screwed his nose up and offered it to the Doctor, "Well someone didn't pay attention at school. There are some symbols on the bottom too, I can't read them, maybe you can."