Healing
Pairing: Jack/10
Challenge: Comfort
Rating: PG
Warning: A bit of vaguely gory imagery. Sexual innuendo (what's new!). The fact that I really don't like this fic. :(
Spoilers (SPOILERS!!! Heh. Those episodes really rocked.): Up to Utopia and Last of the Time Lords
Summary: Sharing is Caring.
They were in the trenches, mud staining their trousers as they crouched under the rain. Jack gripped his gun, hand shaking slightly. He knew he would survive this, knew he would go on. But he also knew that some of the people he had grown to love wouldn’t.
The stormy sky, baptizing the soldiers with a steady stream of unholy liquid, was the least of their worries. Soon, the sky was filled with bullets, and the trenches ran with blood. Jack shot off round after round in the dark, not even trying to aim at that point, just shooting with the swift efficiency of habit. Not even caring if he killed anyone. Jack wasn’t sure if this made him more or less of a monster.
To his right, Tom, a close friend of Jack’s who had been with him since the early days of the war, flopped back, spinning so he was face down in the mud. Jack crawled over to him, flipping him over to find a bullet hole square between his eyes. Jack didn’t scream, didn’t cry, knowing his voice and tears would be wasted in this hellhole, with the shots of guns and the roll of a thunderstorm making his cries redundant. This was war.
Bullets bounced off the ground near where he crouched, cradling Tom’s body. The wall of dirt protecting them had all but collapsed, sliding away with the rain. The bullets flew faster, hit harder. Jack took one to the shoulder and one to the leg before he could yell to his men that this was defeat, that they were to make a full retreat as quickly as possible. He watched as a few men got up and ran, and a few others tried to crawl away, nursing ruined limbs. But those were a minority.
Jack saw most of his men lying on the ground, dead or dying. It was too late for them. He couldn’t save them. All of those corpses, Tom, John, Fred… He had killed them. If he’d called a retreat sooner then none of this would have happened. These men would still be alive, and going home to their wives soon enough. But it had happened.
Another bullet hit Jack in the side and he withdrew from his reverie quickly, realizing that he had lost much too much blood. His eyes began to close as he realized that he’s already crossed over the line. There was no going back now. He’d have to go all the way. Die. His vision blurred and there, standing in front of him was a man in a leather coat with very large ears, shaking his head sadly. Jack grinned sheepishly at the apparition, and died. He hoped he wouldn’t already be buried when he came back this time….
“Jack!”
Captain Jack Harkness awoke to the face of a worried Time Lord, just inches from his own. He turned away from the Doctor, embarrassed. Here he was in bed, naked
, and the Doctor had to come in and wake him up from a bad dream. What was he, five?
His hands were clutching at the sheets of his bed, so he slowly let them go, relaxing sore knuckles and stiff forearms. The Doctor glanced at his hands, quickly sending his gaze back to Jack’s face when the sheets were once again free.
“Jack...” The Doctor began.
“No,” Jack shook his head. “I’m very sorry for waking you up, but I really don’t want to talk about this now.”
“You didn’t wake me up. I was working on the TARDIS.”
“Fine. I didn’t wake you up. But I still don’t want to talk about it.”
The Doctor frowned. “I never asked you to. Would you like a cup of cocoa?”
Jack raised his eyebrows, but nodded. “Can we make it a cup of coffee? I think I could do without sleep tonight.” He wondered what the Doctor was going to say if it hadn’t been to ask him about what he had been dreaming. Though, knowing the Doctor, he probably knew what his nightmare had been about anyway.
The Doctor nodded and got up off the bed, standing over Jack. He smiled, very slightly, and offered Jack a hand. Jack’s eyes flicked from the hand, to the face, then back to the hand. He stayed in bed.
“Hey, Doc. You think you could maybe give me a little privacy while I put on some clothes?” Jack gestured with a hand to the white sheets that covered his body.
The Doctor flushed, and turned away. “You never minded before. I just assumed that-“
“S’okay, Doc. I get it. But I’m a changed man. Sort of.” Jack grinned to let the Time Lord know that it wasn’t a big deal, just a joke between friends. The Doctor nodded again, a small smile on his face before opening the door to Jack’s room and walking into the hall. “Meet you in the kitchen then?” Jack smiled.
“Yeah. Meet you.” The Doctor closed the door behind him.
As soon as the door shut, Jack got up out of bed and threw on some underclothes. Sure he didn’t want the Doctor to see him completely naked, even though he used to be totally comfortable with it. The twenty first century must have been rubbing off on him.
After putting on his clothes, Jack made his way to the kitchen, smells of rich coffee filling his nose. The Doctor sat there, cup of tea in his hands, head bent over the table. Next to him sat a mug of black coffee, just the way Jack liked it.
“Doc?” Jack asked, “What’s the matter?”
The Doctor sighed and grinned ironically. “It’s just that, I left you. And even after I left you, when Martha and I picked you up in Cardiff, even then I could do nothing for you. Would do nothing for you. All I did was drop you off in the middle of a sadist’s dream, let the Master torture you. And you never complained. I let you down, over and over again. And you don’t say anything.
“You’ve got quite a weight on your shoulders, Jack.” The Doctor sighed again. “And I fear that I’ve only added to that weight. I’m sorry. I’ve trained you to think that there is no one who can help you to bear that weight.”
Jack frowned. “I don’t think you quite understand, Doctor.” He shrugged. “I really don’t mind. I’ve lived a fantastic life, well, fantastic lives. I’ve got nothing to complain about. Not that it stops me. I’m a right bitch when you’re not around.” He laughed and grabbed the cup of coffee.
“If that’s the case, why don’t you tell me what you were dreaming about? Why do you only complain when I’m not around? Who helps you carry that weight?” The Doctor stared at Jack with his brown eyes, stared at him with those pools of ancient sorrow, and misery, and joy. Jack turned away.
“I… I guess I just didn’t want to worry you. You’ve got enough shit on your plate without me heaping anymore of my own on. And I don’t want to talk about my dream, not just to keep you from worrying, but to stop me from thinking about it too. It’s not exactly something pleasant to dwell on.”.
The Doctor shook his head. “I think you don’t tell anyone, that you never actually talk to anyone, never tell them everything about you. You’ve got no one you can trust Jack. No one you can tell your whole life story to. And that’s not healthy. Keeping stuff bottled up is bad for you. If I’ve learned anything from twenty first century psychology, it’s that. Talking helps.”
“Like you even listen to your own advice,” Jack grumbled. “When do you ever tell me about your issues? Eh? You keep it all inside too!” Jack crossed his arms, triumphant.
“So, if you tell me yours, I’ll tell you mine.” Jack gaped at the secretive Time Lord, telling Jack that he would disclose his secrets to a mere human. “It’s the only way for us to heal.”
Jack thought for a while, and finally nodded. “Deal.”
The Doctor smiled, pleased. “Oh, and one other thing. I know you’re a ‘changed man’, but I was wondering if you…. That is, if you wanted…umm…for..y’know…wanted us to…. Well…”
Jack chuckled. “Spit it out, Doctor.”
The Doctor wrung his hands. “I’ve no idea how to phrase it so it’s not quite so embarrassing. Might as well just show you.” And he leaned across the table and pecked Jack on the lips.
After pulling back, the Doctor stared at Jack nervously. He fidgeted until Jack coked an eyebrow and asked the Doctor quietly, “If you wanted to be more than friends? Is that what you mean? Because you didn’t even have to ask. I’ve wanted you almost since I met you, you know that.” He smiled. So did the Doctor.
“Yeah.”
“Well.” Jack set his mug down on the table with a thud. “It’s time my friend. If we’re going to do this thing, going to help each other heal, then we may as well start tonight. And I also want to find out,” at this Jack leaned in and whispered conspiratorially into the Doctor’s ear, “If hearts aren’t the only thing you have two of.” And with that he turned and walked away, leading the way back to his bedroom with a grin wide enough to bridge the Void.
A/N: I don't really like this, but I need to post something, so here it is. Sorry.
Challenge: Comfort
Rating: PG
Warning: A bit of vaguely gory imagery. Sexual innuendo (what's new!). The fact that I really don't like this fic. :(
Spoilers (SPOILERS!!! Heh. Those episodes really rocked.): Up to Utopia and Last of the Time Lords
Summary: Sharing is Caring.
They were in the trenches, mud staining their trousers as they crouched under the rain. Jack gripped his gun, hand shaking slightly. He knew he would survive this, knew he would go on. But he also knew that some of the people he had grown to love wouldn’t.
The stormy sky, baptizing the soldiers with a steady stream of unholy liquid, was the least of their worries. Soon, the sky was filled with bullets, and the trenches ran with blood. Jack shot off round after round in the dark, not even trying to aim at that point, just shooting with the swift efficiency of habit. Not even caring if he killed anyone. Jack wasn’t sure if this made him more or less of a monster.
To his right, Tom, a close friend of Jack’s who had been with him since the early days of the war, flopped back, spinning so he was face down in the mud. Jack crawled over to him, flipping him over to find a bullet hole square between his eyes. Jack didn’t scream, didn’t cry, knowing his voice and tears would be wasted in this hellhole, with the shots of guns and the roll of a thunderstorm making his cries redundant. This was war.
Bullets bounced off the ground near where he crouched, cradling Tom’s body. The wall of dirt protecting them had all but collapsed, sliding away with the rain. The bullets flew faster, hit harder. Jack took one to the shoulder and one to the leg before he could yell to his men that this was defeat, that they were to make a full retreat as quickly as possible. He watched as a few men got up and ran, and a few others tried to crawl away, nursing ruined limbs. But those were a minority.
Jack saw most of his men lying on the ground, dead or dying. It was too late for them. He couldn’t save them. All of those corpses, Tom, John, Fred… He had killed them. If he’d called a retreat sooner then none of this would have happened. These men would still be alive, and going home to their wives soon enough. But it had happened.
Another bullet hit Jack in the side and he withdrew from his reverie quickly, realizing that he had lost much too much blood. His eyes began to close as he realized that he’s already crossed over the line. There was no going back now. He’d have to go all the way. Die. His vision blurred and there, standing in front of him was a man in a leather coat with very large ears, shaking his head sadly. Jack grinned sheepishly at the apparition, and died. He hoped he wouldn’t already be buried when he came back this time….
“Jack!”
Captain Jack Harkness awoke to the face of a worried Time Lord, just inches from his own. He turned away from the Doctor, embarrassed. Here he was in bed, naked
, and the Doctor had to come in and wake him up from a bad dream. What was he, five?
His hands were clutching at the sheets of his bed, so he slowly let them go, relaxing sore knuckles and stiff forearms. The Doctor glanced at his hands, quickly sending his gaze back to Jack’s face when the sheets were once again free.
“Jack...” The Doctor began.
“No,” Jack shook his head. “I’m very sorry for waking you up, but I really don’t want to talk about this now.”
“You didn’t wake me up. I was working on the TARDIS.”
“Fine. I didn’t wake you up. But I still don’t want to talk about it.”
The Doctor frowned. “I never asked you to. Would you like a cup of cocoa?”
Jack raised his eyebrows, but nodded. “Can we make it a cup of coffee? I think I could do without sleep tonight.” He wondered what the Doctor was going to say if it hadn’t been to ask him about what he had been dreaming. Though, knowing the Doctor, he probably knew what his nightmare had been about anyway.
The Doctor nodded and got up off the bed, standing over Jack. He smiled, very slightly, and offered Jack a hand. Jack’s eyes flicked from the hand, to the face, then back to the hand. He stayed in bed.
“Hey, Doc. You think you could maybe give me a little privacy while I put on some clothes?” Jack gestured with a hand to the white sheets that covered his body.
The Doctor flushed, and turned away. “You never minded before. I just assumed that-“
“S’okay, Doc. I get it. But I’m a changed man. Sort of.” Jack grinned to let the Time Lord know that it wasn’t a big deal, just a joke between friends. The Doctor nodded again, a small smile on his face before opening the door to Jack’s room and walking into the hall. “Meet you in the kitchen then?” Jack smiled.
“Yeah. Meet you.” The Doctor closed the door behind him.
As soon as the door shut, Jack got up out of bed and threw on some underclothes. Sure he didn’t want the Doctor to see him completely naked, even though he used to be totally comfortable with it. The twenty first century must have been rubbing off on him.
After putting on his clothes, Jack made his way to the kitchen, smells of rich coffee filling his nose. The Doctor sat there, cup of tea in his hands, head bent over the table. Next to him sat a mug of black coffee, just the way Jack liked it.
“Doc?” Jack asked, “What’s the matter?”
The Doctor sighed and grinned ironically. “It’s just that, I left you. And even after I left you, when Martha and I picked you up in Cardiff, even then I could do nothing for you. Would do nothing for you. All I did was drop you off in the middle of a sadist’s dream, let the Master torture you. And you never complained. I let you down, over and over again. And you don’t say anything.
“You’ve got quite a weight on your shoulders, Jack.” The Doctor sighed again. “And I fear that I’ve only added to that weight. I’m sorry. I’ve trained you to think that there is no one who can help you to bear that weight.”
Jack frowned. “I don’t think you quite understand, Doctor.” He shrugged. “I really don’t mind. I’ve lived a fantastic life, well, fantastic lives. I’ve got nothing to complain about. Not that it stops me. I’m a right bitch when you’re not around.” He laughed and grabbed the cup of coffee.
“If that’s the case, why don’t you tell me what you were dreaming about? Why do you only complain when I’m not around? Who helps you carry that weight?” The Doctor stared at Jack with his brown eyes, stared at him with those pools of ancient sorrow, and misery, and joy. Jack turned away.
“I… I guess I just didn’t want to worry you. You’ve got enough shit on your plate without me heaping anymore of my own on. And I don’t want to talk about my dream, not just to keep you from worrying, but to stop me from thinking about it too. It’s not exactly something pleasant to dwell on.”.
The Doctor shook his head. “I think you don’t tell anyone, that you never actually talk to anyone, never tell them everything about you. You’ve got no one you can trust Jack. No one you can tell your whole life story to. And that’s not healthy. Keeping stuff bottled up is bad for you. If I’ve learned anything from twenty first century psychology, it’s that. Talking helps.”
“Like you even listen to your own advice,” Jack grumbled. “When do you ever tell me about your issues? Eh? You keep it all inside too!” Jack crossed his arms, triumphant.
“So, if you tell me yours, I’ll tell you mine.” Jack gaped at the secretive Time Lord, telling Jack that he would disclose his secrets to a mere human. “It’s the only way for us to heal.”
Jack thought for a while, and finally nodded. “Deal.”
The Doctor smiled, pleased. “Oh, and one other thing. I know you’re a ‘changed man’, but I was wondering if you…. That is, if you wanted…umm…for..y’know…wanted us to…. Well…”
Jack chuckled. “Spit it out, Doctor.”
The Doctor wrung his hands. “I’ve no idea how to phrase it so it’s not quite so embarrassing. Might as well just show you.” And he leaned across the table and pecked Jack on the lips.
After pulling back, the Doctor stared at Jack nervously. He fidgeted until Jack coked an eyebrow and asked the Doctor quietly, “If you wanted to be more than friends? Is that what you mean? Because you didn’t even have to ask. I’ve wanted you almost since I met you, you know that.” He smiled. So did the Doctor.
“Yeah.”
“Well.” Jack set his mug down on the table with a thud. “It’s time my friend. If we’re going to do this thing, going to help each other heal, then we may as well start tonight. And I also want to find out,” at this Jack leaned in and whispered conspiratorially into the Doctor’s ear, “If hearts aren’t the only thing you have two of.” And with that he turned and walked away, leading the way back to his bedroom with a grin wide enough to bridge the Void.
A/N: I don't really like this, but I need to post something, so here it is. Sorry.