He'd got the message, but it was almost impossible to even imagine it could be true. He'd heard whispers about him, of course, but then there'd always be whispers about the Doctor. They were a strange comfort over the years; he was still going on, no matter what.
Jack got used to the separation. He had to. They both did.
But then here he was, where he never hoped or thought he could be, standing on the edge of a cliff (it was always somewhere dramatic, wasn't it?)
And waiting. Waiting for a noise, or for a sound. He was used to waiting.
The TARDIS quietly hummed in anticipation, even as the Doctor raced around the console, flipping switches and turning dials. She was always so much more patient than he was, as she had to be. But now, especially now, he couldn't understand how she could be so calm. He'd spent his time convincing himself that this day would never happen, and now that it was, he was bursting with excitement.
Not bothering to pull down the hand brake, he slid the TARDIS comfortably to the edge of the cliff on the Eye of Orion. It had been so long since he'd been here, it reminded him too much of the things that were.
Until almost the last minute, he wouldn't let himself believe it. It was dangerous, having hope, and it was something he trained out of himself years ago. It was better that way.
But then there was a sound, far off and right in his mind. Even now, he could hear it. He could hear it like the last time he had was only moments ago. It was a part of him as much as anything could be. And as he looked over the edge of the cliff, he let himself smile.
The old familiar creek of the door came from behind him and he turned, hands in his pockets, pushing back his coat.
"When you gonna oil that hinge?" he asked with a frown, lifting his hand to gesture to the door and speaking like they had only last spoke moments ago.
The Doctor looked over at the door, then back to Jack. "I like it. Gives the door a bit more personality."
The TARDIS in his mind huffed. She had quite a bit of personality, thank you very much.
And there was Jack. His mind was still reeling over that. Jack was standing there, like nothing had changed, like no time had passed. It was everything the Doctor had to stay in place in front of the TARDIS, rather than running towards him and prodding his chest, making sure he was real.
He paused just a moment, drinking it in, the sight of him, the smell of the air. Everything around them. He'd imagined the moment a thousand times over, but not once could it quite live up to the reality.
With a sudden move, he looked up to the sky, as if examining it for something. Checking.
"Nope," he said, as he took a step towards the Doctor. "Sky's not falling in yet." And he smiled.
"Oh, somewhere it probably is," the Doctor quipped. "And, probably, wherever that is, I am, too."
He knew he was several places in the universe in this moment. He was somewhere on Earth, he was somewhere on Raxius 7, and he was here. Here, right now, was the best place.
He didn't step forward, terrified of breaking the moment. Terrified of whatever might step in their way, tearing them apart the way it did before. He both loved and hated the universe in this incarnation, for many reasons. The way it tore Jack and him apart was a big part of it.
"Never a good thing, boredom. That's why I skip Sundays. Always bored on Sundays."
He wanted to reach out a hand and touch Jack's shoulder. Or brush Jack's mind with his own. Some sort of connection, some way to validate this. But he didn't, he stayed perfectly still.
"You look good," he said, giving him a small smile.
"Oh I dunno," Jack said, shrugging with his very best air of nonchalance. "There was the odd Sunday..." he smirked, a sidelong glance levelled at the Doctor.
The air felt like it bent around them, and Jack wondered if he reached out that it'd all be nothing but a dream. Perhaps the fact he knew it wasn't made it even more nerve wracking.
"I always look good," he replied, smirking softly. "But thanks."
"Well, you know, same old life. Same old TARDIS. Busy life."
Filling every moment with searching for Jack, then every moment with trying to forget about Jack. Then every moment trying to forget about everything. He was a ball of moving, universe-changing energy. He would change the universe, save people, and never remember how hard it all was.
"I didn't have any genetic information to find you," the Doctor said, giving his head a quick scratch. "Nothing. Just...nothing. Couldn't even zero in on radio waves, until..."
He reached into his pocket and produced a small glass vial containing two strands of dark brown hair.
"These were holding together a conduit in the twentieth level. Had to replace it, knew my hair wouldn't have held it so well."
Jack's brow creased into a frown as he looked at the vial in the Doctor's hands. And then he laughed. Just a little.
"Ah, so you needed new parts," he said.
But there it was, the chance to do it, and for it to be almost an incidental gesture.
He reached out his hand and clasped it around the vial, his fingers brushing against the Doctor's in the process. "Guess I better get you a replacement then," he said. But he didn't quite pull his hand back. Not yet.
He'd be lying if he said he did. In fact, he'd gotten better wires to replace the hairs, but it was all a very cleverly (in his opinion) put together excuse to find Jack. And there Jack was.
Jack's fingers were warm against the Doctor's, and his hearts sped up in a dramatically juvenile fashion at the contact. He didn't pull away.
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Jack got used to the separation. He had to. They both did.
But then here he was, where he never hoped or thought he could be, standing on the edge of a cliff (it was always somewhere dramatic, wasn't it?)
And waiting. Waiting for a noise, or for a sound. He was used to waiting.
Always waiting.
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Not bothering to pull down the hand brake, he slid the TARDIS comfortably to the edge of the cliff on the Eye of Orion. It had been so long since he'd been here, it reminded him too much of the things that were.
He pushed open the door and took in a breath.
"Hi."
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But then there was a sound, far off and right in his mind. Even now, he could hear it. He could hear it like the last time he had was only moments ago. It was a part of him as much as anything could be. And as he looked over the edge of the cliff, he let himself smile.
The old familiar creek of the door came from behind him and he turned, hands in his pockets, pushing back his coat.
"When you gonna oil that hinge?" he asked with a frown, lifting his hand to gesture to the door and speaking like they had only last spoke moments ago.
"Hi."
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The TARDIS in his mind huffed. She had quite a bit of personality, thank you very much.
And there was Jack. His mind was still reeling over that. Jack was standing there, like nothing had changed, like no time had passed. It was everything the Doctor had to stay in place in front of the TARDIS, rather than running towards him and prodding his chest, making sure he was real.
"Captain."
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He paused just a moment, drinking it in, the sight of him, the smell of the air. Everything around them. He'd imagined the moment a thousand times over, but not once could it quite live up to the reality.
With a sudden move, he looked up to the sky, as if examining it for something. Checking.
"Nope," he said, as he took a step towards the Doctor. "Sky's not falling in yet." And he smiled.
Reply
He knew he was several places in the universe in this moment. He was somewhere on Earth, he was somewhere on Raxius 7, and he was here. Here, right now, was the best place.
He didn't step forward, terrified of breaking the moment. Terrified of whatever might step in their way, tearing them apart the way it did before. He both loved and hated the universe in this incarnation, for many reasons. The way it tore Jack and him apart was a big part of it.
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"Worried. Bored. You know, that sort of thing." He lifted an eyebrow, amused, but said nothing.
Another step forward and he turned so that he was beside him now. Side by side and looking out to the sky.
"Good to see you, by the way."
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He wanted to reach out a hand and touch Jack's shoulder. Or brush Jack's mind with his own. Some sort of connection, some way to validate this. But he didn't, he stayed perfectly still.
"You look good," he said, giving him a small smile.
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The air felt like it bent around them, and Jack wondered if he reached out that it'd all be nothing but a dream. Perhaps the fact he knew it wasn't made it even more nerve wracking.
"I always look good," he replied, smirking softly. "But thanks."
A beat. "How've you been?"
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Filling every moment with searching for Jack, then every moment with trying to forget about Jack. Then every moment trying to forget about everything. He was a ball of moving, universe-changing energy. He would change the universe, save people, and never remember how hard it all was.
He didn't need to say that, though.
"And you?"
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Most of those pies, of course, were looking for the Doctor, not that he'd admit to that, not after he promised not to.
"So what changed?" he asked, taking an intake of breath with his words, daring to ask the question that was sitting between them. "How are you here?"
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He reached into his pocket and produced a small glass vial containing two strands of dark brown hair.
"These were holding together a conduit in the twentieth level. Had to replace it, knew my hair wouldn't have held it so well."
Reply
"Ah, so you needed new parts," he said.
But there it was, the chance to do it, and for it to be almost an incidental gesture.
He reached out his hand and clasped it around the vial, his fingers brushing against the Doctor's in the process. "Guess I better get you a replacement then," he said. But he didn't quite pull his hand back. Not yet.
Reply
He'd be lying if he said he did. In fact, he'd gotten better wires to replace the hairs, but it was all a very cleverly (in his opinion) put together excuse to find Jack. And there Jack was.
Jack's fingers were warm against the Doctor's, and his hearts sped up in a dramatically juvenile fashion at the contact. He didn't pull away.
Reply
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