for quitehomoerotic: Welcome to the Sahara Desert

[rude_not_ginger]

follows this.

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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[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"Yeah."

Anything, anywhere, away. He thought about running. He thought about racing away from all of this and going somewhere, anywhere else. He thought about the places he could go and the things they could do instead of thinking about this or, well, anything. Anything at all.

But as he thought, he realized he'd moved to a sitting position next to the console, his back against the coral and his knees pulled up against his chest.

"I never found out," he said, quietly.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack wasn't sure he was really looking at anything. Staring up at the time rotor but not really looking at it. His eyes felt blurred, but he knew that was just himself refusing to focus. An extra barrier from the world around him.

Still, the Doctor's words made him turn his head towards him, and find him on the floor. He took a step around, slow and lazy, and he put his fingertips against the Doctor's shoulder, just slightly.

"I should have got her out of there," he said. And then a pause. "This is all my fault."

All his own selfish fault. His own desperation to revive the Doctor and have him back. But if he never had then that woman would have lived. She'd have had her child and in a way? The Doctor would have lived on. But his blind desperation and selfish desire to undo what had been done, and bring the Doctor back, it had all led to this.

"I think I'm going to just..." he gestured a hand back towards the doorway. He needed to do something. He needed to fall apart. But not in front of him.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"Yeah," he said, nodding.

The Doctor needed to get away, too. Somewhere where he didn't have to think. Didn't have to consider the things that never happened, that should've happened. But if he started moving onto things that should've happened, he had no idea if he'd get out of that.

"Sometimes," he said. "Time Lords can see things that could be. But I can't. I can't in this case."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

It wouldn't have helped to have the Doctor disagree with him, not really. It wouldn't have been any better for him to claim that it wasn't Jack's fault. But something in the lack of that made the realisation of all he'd done wrong just stew away a little in his stomach.

He moved over towards the door and paused, his hand against the frame.

"I think," he started. "I think it might be time for me to go."

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"Forever?" the Doctor asked, looking over to him, pathetically.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack slowly turned his eyes towards the Doctor. He looked at him, and wanted to look away. "Maybe," was all he could say. "Maybe."

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"If that's what you want."

The Doctor wanted to scream at him. He wanted shout at him and shake him and inform him that no, this was not a good idea in the slightest. Instead, he just sat there, looking up at him and unable to conjure the appropriate level of anger for that.

"I'm better off on my own."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

His eyes had dropped down and he lifted them at the Doctor's words.

"I don't think it's about what I want any more. Look where'what I want' has got us."

He couldn't pretend he didn't want the Doctor to tell him that wasn't what he wanted, an excuse for him to tell himself it was a bad idea. Though that was selfish too, he shouldn't expect the Doctor to make his decisions for him.

And so they were back to the weak little lies both of them knew were false, it seemed. They knew each other so much better than that. The Doctor was never better alone, Jack knew that much.

"You need another Donna," he said. "Not another Jack."

He took a heavy breath. Glanced down and then aside. "Maybe I'll start Torchwood back up," he said, flippantly. "Someone needs to look after that rock when you're not around."

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

This was stupid. Beyond stupid. It was utterly painful, and it was something that the Doctor did not, at all, want to deal with. He just lost one companion and he wasn't entirely sure he was ready to lose another.

"Jack," the Doctor said, suddenly, quietly.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack's hand was still on the doorframe, and he quietly wondered if he'd be able to stay standing if he pulled it away.

But like a magnet, the Doctor speaking had his attention.

"Doctor."

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"Leave me alone."

The words weren't harsh, they were merely sad. Because that was, right now, where the Doctor was. He was sad. So utterly and completely sad. And he didn't want to be sad like that around Jack. Not after everything.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

If the Doctor had shouted at him, it would have been one thing. Many things were said with the heat of anger and rage. But this was different. It was rooted deeper than that.

Jack merely ducked his head.

"Yeah," he said, echo and empty, and he looked at him just a moment longer before walking from the console room. He headed along the corridor and stopped, because he realised, even in the TARDIS, where did he have to go? The room that had once been his, he hadn't used in the years that passed. In fact the equipment that had monitored him when he was in his coma was still there. Everywhere else? When it came down to it? It wasn't his.

So he went to a stairway and stepped down one or two, and sat there in silence.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

The Doctor stayed in the console room for a very long time. He didn't move, he couldn't move. It felt like the paradoxes in the universe were crumbling around him and if he so much as breathed in the wrong way, the whole of creation would crumble. It was the sort of pain he felt when any loved one passed, he decided. Only worse, because he not only lost Bea, he lost the life he might've had, and he lost Jack.

All in one go, that was a record for him.

When he finally got back up to his feet, he flipped a few switches on the console, effectively sealing the doors so Jack couldn't just leave. He wouldn't have him leaving over emotions, they almost lost him that way once. This time, if Jack wanted to go, he could, but he'd have to tell him later. For now, the Doctor would go into his room and lie there. He couldn't sleep, not yet, but he could lie and wait until the pain numbed somewhat. That would be for the best.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack had no idea how long it was that he sat on those stairs, it could have been five hours or five days, it didn't matter. He simply sat there, staring out at nothing, and thinking of all his mistakes. It was a long list of things he'd failed in. And as he'd long ago assumed, everything he touched fell apart.

He couldn't let that go on. He just couldn't.

His shirt was torn and he had traces of blood on him, and so eventually he thought to change. Change and fetch his coat that had been left out in the bedroom what seemed like an eternity ago.

But then there were so many small eternities.

Standing, he brushed himself down, and he walked steadily towards the room. He walked in, but hadn't expected to find the Doctor there. Immediately he made to move back.

"Sorry, I didn't realise you were-- I'll come back later."

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"It's all right," the Doctor said. He loosened his tie and threw off his jacket. "This is your room, too."

It was odd, saying that. But it had been true before. Before they both started dying and leaving the other alone. Before...well, just before.

He turned back to Jack. "You sure you want to go?" he asked.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack's back relaxed slightly, and he took a slow step back into the room. He supposed it was. The whole TARDIS had been for the last few years, but Jack never really felt like anything was truly 'his'. It was hard to accept anything as that.

"No," he said honestly, shaking his head and standing with his back leant against the wardrobe.

"It's not about what I want. Looks what I do when I'm around. And I think--" he looked down again. "I think maybe we had a window. Maybe we missed it. I don't know any more."

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"You didn't do this, Jack, I did," the Doctor said. "She could've moved on without me, but I---well, I---"

He let out a quiet sigh. It was so sad, everything that had happened. And it had happened because of the Doctor. Because of the Doctor and the universe and loneliness and---

Before he could properly register it, he was suddenly swinging his arm out violently, knocking over the lamp and the contents of his bedside table. The lamp shattered against his hand and went flying across the side of the room, and the rest of the table followed suit, scattering across the floor.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack could have moved out and tried to stop him, but he didn't. He just let him rage, because maybe he needed that. Everyone needed that, sometimes. There was more than one occasion Jack undid his work from rage and anger.

"So you slept with someone you shouldn't. You want to count the amount of times I've done something like that? I've been so... obsessed with getting you back that..." he shook his head and despite himself, he started to laugh, though it was small and pained.

"Oh listen to us. Arguing over who's fault it is."

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

The side table didn't feel like enough. He went over to the table with the tea set on it and threw that aside, too, watching each of the fine cups pop and shatter against the hardwood floor. The table went next, splintering as he threw it aside.

He stood there and took a few calming breaths. He wanted to destroy more. He wanted to destroy enough so that it stopped hurting. His eyes were burning.

"Yeah, and she ended up dying for it," the Doctor said. "And I never knew."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack stiffened and jumped a little as the Doctor carried on and as the ceramic shattered and cracked and the table following suit. The room looked like a mini hurricane had gone through it. And he couldn't just stand there and watch.

He took a step forward and reached both hands out, grabbing hold of the Doctor by his arms.

"Doctor," he said firmly, trying to grab his attention. "I know. I know. I'm sorry. I know."

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

He could've pushed Jack away, he imagined. Shoved him away, too, and carried on destroying his room, then other rooms in the TARDIS. But he didn't, he let Jack hold him still, let Jack's grip on his arms steady him for the moment.

"I never found out, either," he said. "And it's not fair, Jack, I should've---"

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

"I know," he said. His voice was firm but gentle, imploring and careful. "And it hurts. I know it hurts. But wondering what might isn't going to help you, it'll just eat away at you until there's nothing left."

Cautiously, so cautiously, he let go at his arms and moved forward a little, slipping his own gently around the Doctor's shoulder. And while he could, even for a moment, he held him.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

Jack understood. It made it easier, somehow, knowing that Jack really, genuinely understood.

The Doctor didn't hug Jack back. He stood there, stiffly, almost afraid that if he moved he'd start lashing out again. He was so angry with himself, so angry with the universe, and so utterly furious at whatever the storm they'd been running from was. Before, it was something frightening. Now, it had killed.

"I didn't even know if it was a boy or a girl," he said. "Just like me, though. Never thinking to ask until it's too late."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

The Doctor's lack of response to the touch didn't disparage Jack. He simply stood there, holding him closer, if anything gripping him a little tighter. He put one hand to the back of his hair, stroking just gently.

"I know," he said sadly, closing his eyes. "I know." Because he had known. He'd known exactly what the Doctor meant even before he'd said so in as many words.

"She might not have known either," he suggested somewhat unhelpfully.

Gently, he turned his head in a little towards the Doctor's so that he could whisper in his ear. "I'm not going anywhere."

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"Good," the Doctor said. "Right now, I need Jack."

Having Donna here would've been wonderful. Even having Bea here, all awkward looks and pressing for him to talk more about himself, that would've been wonderful. But right now, he needed someone who understood him. Someone who could say he knew and the Doctor could know that yes, he absolutely did.

He closed his eyes and leaned into Jack very slightly. Not quite a response to the hug, but a request that Jack didn't stop.