for quitehomoerotic: Welcome to the Boeshane Peninsula

[rude_not_ginger]

Follows this.

When the Doctor woke, he was prepared to feel stiff and uncomfortable. Usually, when reaching that point of exhaustion, he usually found himself on the floor or on the console, in some sort of an awkward position that left him sore for the next day. This morning, however, he was out of his clothes and stretched out on his bed, under the covers with a heating blanket.

A breathing heating blanket.

He raised an eyebrow and looked to where Jack had an arm around him as he slept. The previous day came rushing back. Pearl Harbor, the goodbyes, the return of Gallifrey, being captured by the Shadow Proclamation, and finally nearly killing Jack. They came so very close. Too close.

Without really thinking about it, the Doctor found himself wrapping an arm around Jack's shoulder. Jack, who was ready and willing to die the previous day. And the Doctor was willing to give him that. He had been willing to give him that. Not anmymore.

Where could they go, now?

Onwards, of course. It was the only way they could go.

The TARDIS wasn't moving anymore, and the Doctor slowly extracted himself from Jack's embrace. He grabbed his trousers and shirt and threw them on quickly, heading towards the console, hopefully before Jack woke.

Comments

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"I don't know," the Doctor said. He looked down at his hand. The freckles, the hairs, they were all totally familiar to him. He could feel the mole between his shoulderblades brushing against the back of his shirt. He was still himself. That...that didn't make any sense.

"Brainwaves," he repeated. "My brainwaves, the ones that were begging for regeneration moments ago. Practically pleading with the universe for it. And when I changed my mind..."

He wiggled his leg, now totally injury-free. It was strange, surreal. He was ready for death, but he wasn't. And that thing, whatever it was, was willing to give it to him.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

"It could hear you," Jack suggested. "What you were thinking, Doctor it could hear it."

He looked back to the water, wondering about the creature that lurked just beneath them. What it was and why it did what it did.

And then Jack thought again on what the Doctor had said and he turned his head sharply towards him. "Is that what you want?" he said. "You want it that badly? It's that bad being you?"

He shook his head. He felt lost. What could he do here? He didn't know what that thing was, he didn't know what the Doctor wanted, and he couldn't work any of it out.

"Doctor just tell me wha--" and then he listened a little more. "You changed your mind?"

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"You have no idea," the Doctor said. After a second, he added, in a more flippant tone, "No, wait, maybe you do. You've been me, before."

What was that creature? Why would it do that?

The Doctor sniffed, then nodded, keeping his eyes on the water. "A Time Lord only has thirteen lives. Losing one because I don't want to deal with the life I've led's a bit immature, don't you think? I'd like to think I've outlived that much immaturity."

He took in a breath, then swam downwards, wary of any stray tentacles. But the creature seemed to be still. For now.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

"Yeah," he said, "and you've been me, so I think we can do without the games."

Jack still worried. He had no idea what was going on here, but apparently the Doctor wasn't regenerating? At least it appeared that way. He didn't seem to Jack that he was very bothered either way, and he couldn't tell if that was his holding in emotion or just that he didn't care.

And then again he was gone. Jack saved just a moment to give an incredulous stare at the water. "I wish I knew what the hell you were thinking," he said to the air around him, and then took a deep breath to follow him down.

Under the water it seemed as though the creature had retreated somewhat, but the electric pulses still continued in the water, like a heartbeat.

Jack touched a hand to the Doctor's side to get his attention and made a confused gesture in his direction. He wasn't happy with any of this, and he had the overriding feeling that they should get out.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

Yes, the Doctor had been Jack. He'd been Jack, and he'd seen how utterly terrifying it was to die. Not to regenerate, not to straddle the lines of death and life. But to die, completely and utterly.

How could Jack say that was 'all' it was? How could he think the Doctor would just easily kill him? Death was horrifying. And the Doctor wanted to protect him from it, wasn't that obvious?

He followed Jack's lead back to the surface of the water.

"Whatever it is down there, it's changing the climate of this area," he said. "And no matter what it can do, we can't let it alter your history. Because while nobody loves altering a fixed event like I do, we both know what'll happen to the universe if it does."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack let out a long suffering sigh and shook his head.

"You're right," he agreed, "you're right but we're not doing any good like this. We need that breathing aparatus. It's stupid going head first into this, we have no idea what this thing is and what it's capable of. It'll be dark out there, Doctor. We should go back to the city, get what we need and do this when it's light."

He looked again to the cave, the way they'd been and the way they came, and again back to the Doctor.

"Are you with me? I don't want to risk this, Doctor."

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

The Doctor didn't want to leave. He wanted to know what that thing was, he wanted to know what very nearly happened to him. He wanted to sort this out now.

But he jumped in without a thought. It nearly cost him a regeneration (or had it given to him, whichever the case was). And Jack...He'd hurt Jack, not just with his actions. The Doctor was impossible at times, but this was far worse. He wasn't sure what he wanted, and he thrust the blame of that onto his companion.

The least he could do was relent.

"All right," he said. "Let's go."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Travelling the unknown could be all well and good, but sometimes there could be a lot to say for placed that were known so well that they could be navigated with your eyes closed. A skill especially helpful when you're soaking wet and it's pitch dark.

And so this was one of those occasions. Jack knew Boeshane well and he knew how to navigate it. From the sea where they'd emerged and back along the beach to the city and again inside. It was practically empty now, unlike the busy marketplace it had been earlier in the day.

There was a small in to the far side of the city, and Jack had taken them there. Thankfully even in Boeshane, and even when dripping wet, his signature charm worked a treat and he procured them both a suite for the evening. A small collection of rooms, all for their use. Somewhere to unwind and inside safe before the sandstorm started (they'd have never made it back to the TARDIS in that).

From a cupboard Jack pulled two towels and threw one in the Doctor's direction.

"Shower's through there," he told him as he removed his coat and hung it over the back of a chair to dry it out.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

The Doctor's coat found a place over the side of a table, and he left for the washroom without so much as a word. What had become of them? Last night, with Jack. And today, with the Doctor. So close to death for the both of them, and for what? What were they proving to each other?

He lifted his calf to the side of a sink and looked at the cuts on his trouser leg. Holes, like spikes, stabbing into the skin. He'd definitely been snared, but now no cuts remained, like the creature had sealed them when it let go. Or when Jack made it let go, whichever it was.

The Doctor lowered his leg and looked into the mirror. This old face. He'd gotten very used to this face, though now it had pink scars forming underneath the torn flesh from his confrontation with the Time Lords. Battle scars, Wilf had called them. Maybe that would be enough of a change. Something to remind him of what he had been, instead of what he would be.

What about Jack? Jack, who never held onto any scars or cuts. Jack, who was eternally 35. It seemed so logical, before. Taking Jack with him so they could spend their eternities together. But now, it seemed, their longevity was catching up with them.

He threw off his suit jacket and loosened his tie before heading out of the washroom to find somewhere to make tea. He'd shower later, he had enough of looking at himself.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

As the Doctor left the room Jack sunk himself down into a chair at the table. He leaned his elbows forward and buried his head in his hands. Today had been a very strange day. Very long and full of so many emotions. But then everything seemed like that lately.

He took a deep sigh and wondered if it was his fault. What happened to the Doctor out there in the water, he could have regenerated, he could have died and Jack had no evidence that he'd cared either way.

The Doctor was always such a wonderful man, and everyone Jack touched broke. Was he breaking the Doctor too?

He didn't hear him come back, so he was taken a little off guard, but as soon as he realised he was out of the bathroom, Jack pulled back his hands and took a deep breath. He was still sitting in his sodden clothes, but he had little inclination to change them.

"How're you doing?" he asked gently. Worried over the Doctor after what happened earlier. Worried in general. Nothing was right, and he longed for something that once was, but he felt more than ever it would only be a memory.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"I think the tentacle released some sort of a healing enzyme," the Doctor said, casually. "Not a cut, not a bruise. And that creature had one hell of a grip."

When in doubt, the Doctor simply ignored. He knew, even as he fiddled about in the cabinets, that ignoring wouldn't last forever. He couldn't ignore, because it only made things worse. It only made injuries fester.

He turned to Jack. He should say something, he decided. He should say something, try to make it better. Try to apologize. Not just a 'sorry, so sorry' apology, but a real apology.

No words came out.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack nodded at the information before straightening his back a little and speaking up. "First thing in the morning we'll get out there. We'll get some equipment and get back to that cave. It looked like it had been there a while so it should be fine for tonight."

He let out a long and laboured breath. "Could it be like last time?" he asked, "Regeneration energy healed what was there and then the rest fizzled out."

Fizzled out, isn't that the description they'd used about Jack himself were he to die?

The Doctor looked at him and Jack looked back. It was as though he was waiting for something, but Jack couldn't place it. "What?" he asked tiredly, throwing his hands back up a little before leaning back in his chair.

"Look we should get our heads down, get some rest and get an early start."

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"I'm----" Sorry. He was sorry. He was impossibly sorry in every sense of the word. Give me a capital S. S! Give me a capital O. O! Give me a capital R. R! Give me a capital R----

But after the previous evening, after the previous week, sorry didn't feel like it was enough. He could've been screaming it from the hilltops and it didn't hold enough weight.

So, the Doctor did what he was best at: He changed the subject.

"---pretty sure that the regeneration energy wasn't created by me, or my Time Lord DNA. It was far too regular, far too easily controlled. The human side to my DNA makes regeneration very difficult, very dangerous. I wouldn't be too terribly surprised if my next regeneration blows a hole in the TARDIS from pent-up energy."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack rubbed a hand over his face and let out another long breath.

"Yeah well whatever it was we can find out tomorrow. Something artificially trying to pass off as regeneration? Whatever it was it must have had a reason. We'll work it out. I mean, that's what we do right?"

It all seemed one long cycle, work and work and all they did. Maybe they didn't deserve a break, but no, no that wasn't right, they did. However much self depreciation Jack had he knew they deserved a break.

He tried to inject humour, to be himself, for want of a better phrase. "Pent up energy? Well you know how you can release that, don't you?"

But he shook his head and let out an empty laugh. "You'd think somewhere it'd stop. Just for a bit. Here of all places."

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"It's not the universe this time, Jack, it's just me."

He sighed, reached into a cabinet, and pulled out a jar of what looked like dried herbs. Could be a tea? No? Maybe? He really needed to stock some in his pockets at some point in the future. Preferably in waterproof containers.

"I'm bad news, Jack," he said. "Regenerated wrong, been downhill ever since. And there was a moment in that cave where I was absolutely certain I was ready to start over. Completely convinced. Wanted nothing but."

He sniffed and put the jar down before rustling through a few others. "And maybe that creature was trying to give it to me."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack looked up and over at the Doctor. He watched him as he moved through containers of things he obviously didn't recognise. He waited, he listened.

"You're starting to sound like me," he said with a sad sigh. That was always him, wasn't it, saying how dangerous he was to everyone else?

He watched a moment more and stood, walking quietly over to the Doctor, he reached out for the containers and spoke softly, "Here, let me," he knew them of course, which was which and what was what.

"Sometimes it seems like the best option," he said, looking down at the containers, "end of a chapter and all that."

He pushed one of the containers in the Doctor's direction.

"And what do you want now?" he asked him.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"Anything that could be even remotely related to milk," the Doctor said.

Beyond that, though? What did he want? The word atonement stuck in the back of his mind as something he needed to do. He needed to fix the things he'd done wrong, make things better. Make Jack better. Be the doctor he was pretending to be.

"And I think I've sounded like myself a good long while before you sounded like you," he added with a small smile."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack almost smiled, almost. It twinged the corner of his lips and he turned his head towards the Doctor's for a moment.

"Yeah," he said gently, and he stepped around the Doctor to get to the cool-cupboard on the other side, placing his hand on the small of the Doctor's back as he moved around him. Such a discreet gesture, and not mentioned or drawn attention to, but intimate in it's private way.

He pulled a ceramic jug out and placed it out on the side and nodded, "From a cow, even."

On that, he shifted back to where he'd stood before and gently drew his hand away.

"Oh yeah?" he asked, "Well I think I've been me a lot longer than you've been you. Or that you, at least." And a smile of his own. "Since we're making this a competition. What is it, who can hate themselves the most?"

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

Brilliant. The Doctor picked up the jug and gave the liquid a cautious sniff, mostly for show. If Jack said it would be good, he sincerely doubted it wouldn't.

"Well, we started out on this story a bit worse for wear," he said. "You in that bar, me fresh from leaving Christina behind. I think we were fairly destined to this sort of a----" he cringed a little at the word, "---relationship."

Because that was what it was. A with with, as he'd promised Jack the night before. No more games, he'd promised, but he couldn't even keep that.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

"Oh now," Jack said with a half laugh, "the world must be ending if you're using words like that."

He reached up to one of the cupboards and pulled a jar from it, full of big rusk looking biscuits. He busied himself with it, mainly to give himself something to focus his gaze on so as to have an excuse not to be looking at the Doctor.

"Me in that bar," Jack echoed back. "But that's the thing, Doctor. Back then, I never though I could feel again. Not anything. Not happy, not sad. You changed that. And sure, you get the bad with the good. But that's life."

For a moment, he spared him a look. "You know I never set out to end up like this," he let out a small laugh then, ironic, "I never expected any of it. Not even that I'd ever get to kiss you, Doctor. It's not like we planned this."

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"Yeah, I knew you were planning this," the Doctor teased. "The dangers, the huge gaps in our timelines. From the moment you thought I was Spock. And nothing you can say can convince me otherwise."

Teasing was right for them. It wasn't enough to repair what was broken, but it was enough to make him feel a little more relaxed.

"So where do we go now?" the Doctor's voice was serious, now. Almost wary, like he wasn't certain what he wanted Jack to say. He wasn't. He had absolutely no idea what he wanted anymore. Except...Jack. Safe. Far too simplistic to be put into words.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

"Oh you've got me," Jack said with a laugh, lifting his hands as though he'd been caught red handed. "That was it all along. Honestly, Doctor, I thought you'd have realised it earlier, this was all just an elaborate rouse to get you into bed and have a bit of adventure along the way."

He laughed then, an honest laugh, if hiding a little sadness beneath it, and he glanced down as the laughter faded. He looked to the side then, looked at the Doctor and watched him as if he might see in him what he wanted to hear. But no, it wasn't about what people wanted to hear, was it? It was about being honest.

"I've never been one for relationships," he said, but then he shook his head and corrected himself, "actually no, that's a lie, I have I just don't think I've ever been very good at them. But I guess I still know when I want something."

He took a deep breath then, as though he was scared to go on, but he steeled himself, and did just that, looking at him while he spoke. "I love you, Doctor, you know that. I've always loved you. I guess ever since you swapped my blaster for a banana and let me on the TARDIS. You put a lot of trust in me then, you opened my eyes. You've always meant a lot, you know that."

Another deep breath, because was he even articulating what he meant? "I love you. I love you but I am in love with you. This you. Can't honestly say I ever expected that. But I think it was somewhere between being fallen asleep on me in a hammock and a luxury space cruiser. I'm not good at it, I know that. But that doesn't stop me wanting. I guess that's where I'm human. Can't let go of that romantic little hope I guess. And I know you're not like that, but then I know a little bit of you? Well that is. But you know what else I know? You, Doctor, you're my best friend, and more than that, you're you, and if all I had was knowing you? The fact I'd been able to see a few stars with you? Then that's... brilliant. And so we go where we go. I don't want anything from you that isn't what you want to give. And wherever that takes us? I think I'm good with that, as long as it makes us happy. Because for once, you know? I think we deserve that."

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"I won't be like this forever, Jack," the Doctor admitted, and there was no small amount of worry in his voice. "I'm a lot of things, but I'm not fixed."

If he was honest, he'd admit that he loved it. He loved that Jack loved him. He loved knowing that he was loved exactly for who he was and what he'd become. It was a little shocking, yes, because even the Doctor wasn't entirely certain why anyone would even look at him twice considering the things he'd done. But Jack did.

He reached out and took Jack's hand. He didn't initiate physical touches. Not frequently. It wasn't part of who he was, who he'd become.

"But I won't change. Not really. Not what's in my heart." He raised Jack's hand to cover his left heart, beating securely beneath his cold shirt.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

"Course you're not," Jack said almost flippantly. "Only one guy gets that and that's me. Unique as they come, Doctor, in every way."

If Jack were truly honest, he supposed that in a way he did like the fact he was one of a kind. It certainly appealed to some sort of vanity. And no, the Doctor wasn't forever, and this Doctor wasn't forever, but he was closer, and still, a happy day could mean as much as anything.

He was surprised by the touch, about the last thing he'd expected then, but it was nice, and he curled his fingers in a little against his chest.

"I know you're not forever," he said quietly, "but that doesn't mean you're not worth it for now. And whoever you become? Well I bet you'll be great then to. But now? You're you, and I don't think you should waste that."

He kept his hand gently over the Doctor's chest, and he lifted his gaze to his eyes.

"And how do you want to go on? Here, in your heart?"

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"I don't know," the Doctor admitted. "See, unlike other people in the room who make long-winded plans after meeting a bloke for five minutes, I don't think that far ahead when it comes to this sort of thing." He smirked, and it felt good. This all felt good, actually. The way Jack's hand was on his, the way he looked up into the Doctor's eyes. It was grounding, but it wasn't suffocating. The Doctor had waited a long time for a person who could do that.

"Besides, if we knew everything that would happen, it'd be a bit dull, wouldn't it?" he asked. "That's one of the best things about you, Jack. Unpredictable."