for quitehomoerotic: Welcome to the Sahara Desert

[rude_not_ginger]

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The Doctor woke only a few short hours later and found himself positively disappointed at his lack of dreams. He'd spent years asleep without dreams, and now, when he really wanted them, he still had nothing. No memories, no twisting nightmares, not even a good brain-dump of nonsensical mental garbage. Just nothing. He was asleep next to Jack on the bed, and then he was awake.

He sighed. His memory was still swiss-cheesed with missing parts of the last two hundred years, but there seemed to be more gaps filled in. And that was something, wasn't it? It meant maybe a few more nights of dreamless sleep and he'd be back to himself completely.

He just hoped there weren't more memories like Mars to discover.

He looked over to Jack, asleep next to him. This was what Jack loved the most, he said. Not sleeping alone. Not being alone. In that instant, the Doctor understood it.

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"Be careful with her, Jack," the Doctor said. "She's not as fragile as she looks, but she's a good deal more fragile than she thinks she is."

Which, to the Doctor, made a whole lot of sense. He went below the panel and began ripping out glued-together wirings. The whole thing was a mess, but it was a working mess. A sort-of working mess.

"Go on! Before she starts a fire just to say she can!"

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Jack gave the Doctor a look. He thought he quite understood that without needing to be told, thank you very much.

He started off towards the door but stopped to turn around and point a finger towards the Doctor. "Don't do anything ridiculous. And don't go getting yourself killed."

On that, he left the room and headed down towards the engineering section of the ship. It was a little way from the bridge, and darkly lit. That didn't help. Jack hated it. Small thin corridors with flickering lights.

He stepped down to the engineering bay and headed through a small air lock door. There was a strange smell in there, some sort of leak?

"Beatrice?" he called gently as he stepped around. And there she was, on the floor with a bundle of something in her hands, pulled from a unit in the wall.

"Beatrice I know you might not be the person I want to see right now, but I need to get you out of here."

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She reached up and slammed a lever, and the door to the engineering room deadlock sealed. She struggled to her feet, not quite at the size where she was waddling to walk, but starting to feel the awkwardness of her condition.

"Did he send you down here?" she snapped. "Cause I don't need it. I already know what I'm doing. He just never believed I did."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack pushed his hands into his pockets and walked up to her, crouching down next to her.

"He does mean best," he said. "He just has a pretty terrible way of showing it sometimes. And he does believe you. He just... usually thinks he knows better."

He reached his hand out and touched it against her arm. "You can't stay down here. I need to get you to the TARDIS, Beatrice."

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She jerked back away from him.

"Yeah," she said, letting out a sad sound that wasn't really a sob but most certainly not a laugh. "Two years I spent. Two years with him. Always wanted someone to talk to, acted like he hadn't opened up in a lifetime, and I'm guessin' he hadn't. I thought he...we..."

She looked back over her shoulder at Jack.

"But he never got over you. You could tell, just how he talked."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack let out a long sigh and reached a hand up to rub his face. He pulled his glasses off and held them between his fingers as he looked at her, settling himself back against the wall.

"He's lonely," he said with a shrug. "He's always lonely. And he doesn't know how to change that. So he runs. You know, you might not believe me, but I do know how you feel. What it's like. I get it."

He gave her arm a light squeeze and pulled back, just watching her.

"What did he used to say about me?" he asked her, quietly.

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"I'm not feeding your ego," Bea said, pulling on a few levers on the engines. "This isn't a chat time, this is me, trying to save this ship, and us in the process."

Her jaw was set, as though she was trying, very hard, not to cry over this.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

"I wasn't trying to get you to---" he sighed and glanced down. He supposed in a way he was. His curiosity, and that wasn't fair on her, was it? Not at all.

"The ship is going to get pulled into that storm, Beatrice. So we need to go. Unlock that door and lets go to the TARDIS. Just come with me. You can have your argument with the Doctor. You can do whatever you need to do, but staying around here isn't going to help anything."

He took a long breath.

"Beatrice. You don't need to prove yourself to him. Trust me, he already thinks you're brilliant."

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"I know I don't need to," she snapped. "All I ever did was prove myself to him. And he, he couldn't do anything. He couldn't even fix the necklace I broke on my first trip. Figure he must've lost it. And that was mine. I mean, how many of my things did I leave with him?"

She put a hand to her chest, as if afraid her heart would suddenly realized it belonged with the Doctor, too.

"I can save this ship."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

"Ahh," he said, nodding and smiling to himself. "That'd be the necklace in his pocket then. Do you think he's forgotten you? Because he doesn't. He doesn't forget anyone. He just pretends to."

He looked over at what she was doing. A mass of wires that surely couldn't be fixed.

"What are you trying to fix?" he asked. "Can I help?"

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"No, I've got it," she snapped. But she looked almost contemplative at Jack's statement about the necklace. She shook her head. "You're lying. He's lost it. I know him. He wouldn't have even known about me if I hadn't dragged him back."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

"If I was gonna lie I think I'd be a bit more creative about it than that," Jack pointed out, both eyebrows raised.

"And trust me, you're not alone there, he barely knew who I was yesterday morning. Beatrice, what do you want from him? What do you hope to achieve? Because those wires? You think fixing that will fix everything else? You probably don't like me very much, don't worry, a lot of people don't. But let me help."

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She looked at the mess of wires and her face switched from one of anger to one of utter defeat. There was no repairing them. She pointed to a box near them. "That unit needs repairing. We can refit the gravity wells, keep the storm from lifting us away."

It was a very primitive solution by a 51st century technician's standards, but in her 23rd century mind, it would work.

"Why you?" she asked. "Why you and not me?"

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack looked over and at her explanation. Oh it wouldn't work, he knew that. It was a clever idea, no doubt, but it would buy them a minute or so, if that. Time they were wasting by being stuck there at all.

He wasn't about to tell her that though. Not in so many words, at least.

His eyes flicked to her face, and he let out a sigh. "Why anyone? Because I was there. Because... we understood. Because I'm about the only person out there that has longer than he does. I don't know, Beatrice."

Again, he looked at the wires. "I know how hard it is to love him," he told her, quiet. So quiet.

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"No you don't," she replied, just as quiet. "He loves you back."

There was a sudden, loud crash on the side of the ship, and water began pouring in from the ceiling. Bea got to her feet and raced over to the door lever.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

"Oh Beatrice," Jack said with a sad laugh. "That doesn't make it easier. It makes it harder."

The crash shuddered and Jack stood up. He looked around and stepped over, touching his fingers against the roof. "The storm's getting worse!" he said, "Something has put a kink in the ship. It's bent it out of shape. Beatrice we have to get out now."

He moved to a panel next to the door, a series of alarms was going off and a gas was pouring from a vent beside one of them.

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The gas hit Beatrice in the face and she threw herself backwards from it.

"That's monoxol gas! It fuels the ship, it's toxic---"

And as she threw herself backwards, she let out a sharp cry. One of the open hatches had stabbed her in the side. She fell down to the ground, clutching at the wound.

"Get out of here," she said. "Get out of here, it's poison---"

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack stepped back and then turned sharply towards her as she slumped down. He ran over and moved down to her height, crouching beside her and one hand reached out towards her side. She was bleeding, and he tried to stem it, but the blood loss was already considerable.

"It doesn't matter," he said dismissively. "It can't hurt me. You have to come with me now. I'll get you to the TARDIS and we'll stop this okay?"

He spun his head back and looked at the vent, the gas was getting out and into the room. He stood and ran to the door, tried to open it but the buckling of the ship had moved the mechanism. He couldn't get it open.

Immediately, he ran back to her side, squatted down next to her.

"It's okay," he said. "We can still get out. Vortex manipulator, see? Handy little thing. Now stay with me, Beatrice, okay? You stay with me." Even as he was taking he was ripping the arm from his shirt and trying to use it against her side to hold against her wound.

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She coughed against the gas and shook her head.

"I had the whole ship force-sealed when one of the guards told me you had that. Unless the Doctor turns it off, we're trapped here."

She reached down her hand to cover Jack's, where it pressed into her wound. Tears filled in her eyes. "I don't want you to die here, too. I didn't---I didn't mean for this to happen. I just wanted him to know. I just want him to be happy. You make him happy."

Her eyes started to close as the gas started to quickly take effect.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

So they were stuck. Even vortex manipulator couldn't get through a seal like that. They were stuck unless he could reach the Doctor. Maybe he could. Maybe he could open his mind and try and find him. He tried. And he could feel him there but... it was blocked. The force-seal was causing too much interference, even with their rings. It wouldn't get through, not in time.

Doctor, can you hear me? Please hear me. He tried, but he doubted it would be heard.

Jack shifted his other hand to her cheek and cradled her face as her head started to lilt. "It's okay," he said. "It's fine. I can't die. I'll wake right back up again. I'll stay with you. Come on, talk to me, Beatrice. Talk to me."

He carried on talking as he pulled her over into his arms, his hand tight over the wound and his bloodied fingers lacing with hers.

"You're going to be okay," he told her, but he knew that wasn't true, and there were tears in his eyes. He should have been able to save her. He could feel the gas as he breathed in, and he was losing strength too, his muscles giving way.

"Just you stay with me," he said, voice a little slower. "Stay right here, Bea. The Doctor will be here soon."

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

What's going on, Jack? the Doctor called over to him. I see a gas leak in your sector. You and Bea need to get to the TARDIS.

Beatrice nodded. "Yeah," she said. "The Doctor will save us."

And with that, her head lolled over to the side, and her breathing stopped.

Jack. Jack talk to me.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

"Beatrice," Jack said, his voice hollow and empty. "Bea. Beatrice."

His hand tightened a little around hers, and he pulled her body closer to his. His lips touched loosely to her forehead and he fell sideways to the floor.

His eyes were struggling to stay open and he just about managed to press a thought to the Doctor, broken and shaky.

I'm sorry.

He breathed one last breath and his head fell to the side. He was dead. His hand still holding hers.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

Jack.

The life signs in the engine room blinked, and then suddenly went out.

Jack!

The Doctor ran down the corridor, slipping on the wet metal and falling hard onto the ground. He bit his lip and it split open, but he pulled himself up and ran faster, further down the hallway. No, no, no. No, it wasn't possible. This couldn't be happening. No.

He to the door and pulled out the sonic. Deadlocked. He couldn't even pry it open if he wanted to. He looked up, through the small, glass window. The room was a fuzzy haze of green, but he could see the shiny metal of Jack's glasses in there.

They were dead. Both of them. No, no. All three of them. Jack would be back, but not Bea. Not Bea, because he wasn't fast enough. The ship shook again, and several lights went out in succession. He couldn't cry right now, he couldn't. Still had to save the TARDIS, still had to get Jack out of there. Grief could come later.

He reached a panel and pressed the button that said de-oxygenaite. With a whoosh of air, the room was cleared of the gas. He pressed another button that reoxygenated it. Too late, of course. He looked through the window to see Bea lying quietly on her back, and Jack to the side, holding her hand.

The Doctor closed his eyes and concentrated. Focused on healing Jack faster, the way he had before.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

It was unceremonious, when Jack came back to life. There was never any fanfare or celebration, just a deep breath and a return to life. He'd be back, and he'd go on, because he never had any option.

This time it came with a cough and a splutter. He could still feel the damage from the gas on the inside of his throat. It felt raw and strained. He blinked his eyes slowly and he realised where he was. He realised who's hand he was holding, and he realised too that she was dead. Her eyes were closed and her skin already pale. His hand was sticky with her blood, and his shirt wearing the damage of how he tried to stop it. It all drew a painful picture.

Carefully, he pushed himself up, still on his side. He looked at her, watching, his hand still in hers and tears rolling down his cheeks without even noticing it.

And then, oh then, he knew he was there. He turned his head towards the door, and he saw him.

He could do nothing but stare.

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The Doctor looked back, his face as hard as stone. He gestured to Jack's wriststrap.

Get out of there.

He'd ask him why he didn't use it later.