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.
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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He stalled though as the Doctor started arguing with her, and he turned around and took a step over to Bea. He put both hands on her shoulder and stared at her imploringly. "Beatrice, you're pregnant. Now go. Let us help. Go."
She looked at him and then briefly at the Doctor before taking an exasperated breath and turning from the room.
Jack moved back to the Doctor in the midsts of everyone else leaving the room. "Okay," he said, "What have we got?"
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He scratched the back of his head. "Course, it's not that important that we blow the ship up. We could just let it go, get Bea out of here. Get breakfast somewhere else."
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"So I'll fly it," Jack said, without even thinking about it. It would kill him but he'd get over that. He put his hands on his hips and turned to the Doctor. "Or we go and we take us with her. Or you take her and I'll fly this thing in and get out at the last minute. Meet you somewhere."
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There were no guarantees with the storm. No guarantees with anything when it came to them.
There was a blip on the screen, and the Doctor nodded. "Looks like all of the crew here just took drills into the sand. Probably keep them safe for a while, who knows how long it'll be with that thing out there."
He squinted at the screen. "Bea didn't go down to the TARDIS. She went back up to engineering."
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"So what do we do? We've got maybe ten minutes before that storm sucks the whole ship in. If we don't get her out... well you don't need me to tell you what'll happen."
He ran a hand over his face and took a long breath.
"I could... go down there, restrain her. Take her by force. It's for her own good."
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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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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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"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."
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"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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"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."
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"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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Her jaw was set, as though she was trying, very hard, not to cry over this.
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"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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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."
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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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"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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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?"
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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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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.
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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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"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---"
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"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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"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.
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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."
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