Weaving 5/9?
Story: Weaving
Author: wmr wendymr
Sequel to: Broken Threads (Series: Tapestry)
Characters: Tenth Doctor, Jack Harkness, Rose Tyler; Team Torchwood and other characters in minor roles
Rated: PG13
Disclaimer: None of them are mine, and that's a good thing ;)
Spoilers: DW: S3 and VotD; TW: pretty much all of S2, though this is completely AU.
Summary: She's back, and it should be just as it was before, the three of them... but can you ever really go back?
As before, my thanks to dark_aegis and kae_nine for BRing and reassurance. This is a sequel to Broken Threads, as noted, and might not make a lot of sense without it. So sorry for the very long delay between chapters! RL has been interfering in very many ways, but normal service should resume now.
Chapter 1: Transmission Complete l Chapter 2: Minefields l Chapter 3: Papering Over Cracks l Chapter 4: Secrets and Lies
Chapter 5: Mystery
It feels like she’s been tossing and turning for hours. There’s just far too much on her mind to let her sleep. So many discoveries today; so many secrets they’ve been keeping from her.
There was this singing...
I sang a song and the Daleks ran away.
He lied. He lied about so many things.
Ah, he’s busy. Rebuilding the Earth.
Worse, though, is what she did. Regardless of her motives, the consequences remain, and Jack’s been living with them ever since. He’s going to live with them eternally, isn’t he?
Then there’s when she refused to believe that the Doctor was the Doctor. And those days afterwards when, even though she finally believed him, she couldn’t accept him. Kept her distance sometimes. Looked at him and was disappointed not to see short-cropped hair, big ears and piercing blue eyes.
She blamed him for changing, and all the time it was her fault. Yet, other than that one time on the Sycorax ship, he never complained.
They’ve both told her that she’s forgiven and she should let it go. And, yes, she will, at least in front of them. Not accepting forgiveness is every bit as bad as refusing to accept an apology, after all, and playing the martyr and continually acting as if she needs to do penance would just make her impossible to live with, particularly around the two of them. They’re both the moving on sort, after all. Still doesn’t stop her recognising the seriousness of what she did, and to two of the people she loves most in any universe. There’ll be a way. Somehow, some time, there’ll be a way to make it up to them.
She thumps her pillow and turns over again, impatient for sleep. But now there’s something else keeping her awake. It’s right on the edge of her awareness, but what...?
It sounds like someone crying out, pleading for help. But that doesn’t make sense. There’s only the three of them on the TARDIS, and Jack and the Doctor’s rooms - or probably room, now - aren’t anywhere near her. Just her imagination, probably.
But, no, there it comes again. It’s definitely someone crying for help. A man. Sort of sounds a bit like -
Jack!
Throwing back the covers, she scrambles out of bed, not waiting to grab her robe before hurrying out of the bedroom. In the hallway, she can still hear it: occasional shouts and cries, panic and fear and dread. Yet it’s weird. She’s hearing it, but it feels like it’s inside her head, not coming from outside. She’s not hearing with her ears, but with her... her mind? And the fear and horror are somehow inside her too, yet they’re not part of her.
Following the sounds takes her to a room she’s been to before, but not for a very long time. Not since her first Doctor and the night after they ended up in Van Statten’s museum. Then, too - oh, she’d forgotten, it’s been so long ago - a feeling of distress and pain so strong she couldn’t ignore it drew her here. The Doctor, in pain from Van Statten’s torture and haunted by memories of war, was caught in what she would have called a nightmare only he was awake, sort of. She stayed with him, tried to soothe and reassure him, until he calmed and was able to talk to her. He sent her away then, insisting he was all right.
Then, he told her that he must have been broadcasting so strongly that the TARDIS somehow sent an image of his mental state into her head. It’s rare, he told her, but after all he’s telepathic and so is the TARDIS, and she already has a route into companions’ heads through the translation circuit. It never happened again, and she suspected that was because he made sure of it.
It’s happening now, though, and with Jack, which is weird - and worrying.
The door’s slightly ajar. Very carefully, she peers around the corner; if the Doctor’s there too she’s not going to disturb them. It’s not her place, after all; it’s his.
Jack’s alone in the bed, thrashing around, fists clenched in the sheet that’s pooled around his hips. But it’s the words she’s finally able to distinguish that send a cold chill through her.
“Don’t hurt him. Kill me. Kill me!” His body jerks. “Doctor? Doctor! Master, no... Cut my head off. You wanna try? See what that’ll do? Don’t hurt him!”
Cut his head off? What sort of nightmare...?
In an instant, she’s beside the bed, sitting on the edge, laying her hand gently on his arm. “Jack? Jack!”
He flings her arm off. “You bastard, Master! He did nothing... Aah!”
“Jack!” She tries again, this time sliding her hand down his forearm, over his wrist and trying to pry his fingers from the sheet. “It’s me. Rose. Jack, you’re safe. You’re on the TARDIS. No-one’s hurting you.”
Again, he jerks and pulls away from her hand. “Get away from him! Why do you - oh, god. No!”
Abruptly, he rolls over, pushing her back, and suddenly she’s pinned to the bed beneath him, his hands hard and bruising against her shoulders. “Bastard! If I didn’t know you’d only regenerate, I’d break your neck.”
Regenerate? What? Is the Doctor the enemy, whatever his nightmare’s about?
Staying completely still - if she struggles, he’ll only increase his force and hurt her, maybe even kill her - she tries again to get through to him. “It’s Rose,” she repeats. “Rose. You’re safe, Jack.”
His fingers dig into her shoulders, one forearm pressing against her throat, enough to make its presence felt though not hard enough to block her airway. “Doctor! You killed him, you-”
“Jack.”
The Doctor’s voice, steady and calm, comes from behind her, close to the door. Straining, she can just see him in the edge of her vision.
“Rose, stay very still,” he says, his voice soft as he approaches. “Jack, it’s me. Time to wake up.”
Jack’s not moving. Now, he’s muttering things she can’t decipher, and he’s not letting her go.
“He was saying stuff... don’t hurt him, kill me - and he said your name. An’ he kept saying Master.”
The Doctor sits on the bed next to her, his thigh pressed against hers. “It’s not important. Just stay still. I don’t want you getting hurt.” He leans over her and lays his hands against the side of Jack’s face. “Jack. Listen. Yes, you can hear me. It’s over. Remember? We ended it. It’s all right.”
We ended it? So, whatever Jack’s dreaming about, it’s something that really happened, and to the two of them, not just Jack. And it was bad. Yet another secret they’ve kept from her, it seems.
“That’s right,” the Doctor murmurs, though Jack hasn’t moved, hasn’t said another word. “Now, let Rose go. Gently, now.”
She’s seen the Doctor’s mind-linking technique before, of course, but the effect can still stun her. One hand releases her, then the arm’s removed as Jack rolls to his side, and then onto his back. Even as Jack moves, the Doctor manages to keep his fingers in place.
“Good lad,” the Doctor says soothingly. “Now, you’re going to wake up, all right?”
Right on cue, Jack’s eyes flicker open.
***
The Valiant, the Master and the bloodied, aged body of the Doctor disappear, and he’s blinking, momentarily disoriented, as he focuses on the Doctor’s face - back to impossibly young - looking down at him.
“Shit. Bad dream.”
“Yeah.” The Doctor straightens, and it’s then Jack realises that the Doctor’s fingers were against his temples. Damnit. Must have been bad, then, if he had to use his mind-voodoo to pull him out of it.
And, yeah... as his brain begins to focus, he’s remembering. A voice inside his head telling him to wake up, that it’s safe. Telling him to let Rose go -
Rose?
Oh. A warm, soft body’s next to him - how did he miss that? His gaze shoots to her, to find her watching him, her eyes worried. “You all right, Jack?” she asks as soon as she sees him look at her.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.” She’s here, though - they’re both here - which has to mean he was making a lot of noise, though how Rose would hear him from her room he has no idea. The Doctor’s different; nothing happens on the TARDIS that he doesn’t know about, of course.
Let go of Rose...
His eyes narrow. “Did I hurt you? Rose? What did I do?”
She shrugs. “Nothing. You were havin’ a nightmare, that’s all.”
Damn, now she’s lying to protect him. He looks up at the Doctor, silently demanding the truth. The Doctor’s mouth turns down at one corner. “I came in to find you pinning her down with your arm across her throat. Think you thought she was the Master.”
Oh shit. “Rose?” He traces her throat very gently with his fingers. “Don’t lie to me. Did I hurt you?”
“No. No,” she insists, pulling herself up into a sitting position with her legs off the bed. “Really. I’m fine. But what about you? What was that all about?”
He and the Doctor exchange glances. They’re in agreement, he can see; no talking about the Master or that year. It’s over and done with. They’ve both put it behind them, or he would have if he could stop having these stupid nightmares. It really isn’t that often, but enough for it to be annoying. And, too, obviously often enough for the Doctor to be aware of it, though he had no idea his lover knew.
“It’s not important. Best forgotten,” he says, but immediately realises that it was the wrong thing to say to get her to drop it. “No, really,” he adds quickly. “Bad experience, over and done with, and I really want to forget it. Please?”
Her face softens and there’s deep compassion in her gaze. “Course, if that’s what you want.” She begins to stand. “Anyway, you’re all right now, so I’ll just get out of your way-”
He catches hold of her arm, deliberately gentle after what he’s just done to her, his fingers caressing her skin. “You’re not in the way. Stay.”
She looks from him to the Doctor, unsure, clearly uncertain of her welcome, her place in this room that’s theirs and the relationship that excludes her.
The Doctor meets his gaze, and somehow he knows the older man knows what he’s up to. Smiling slightly, the Doctor says, “Take it you’re all right now, then? Don’t need me?”
With his free hand, he reaches up, stroking the Doctor’s face with his fingertips. “Always. But I’m fine now, if that’s what you mean.”
The Doctor nods. “I’ll get back to what I was doing, then. Don’t keep each other up talking too long,” he chides with mock sternness. “Don’t want you too tired to run for your lives tomorrow.” He bends, presses a kiss briefly to Jack’s lips, then looks at Rose. His expression’s tentative, unsure, but then he leans towards her, his movements jerky, and he brushes a kiss against her forehead. “Night,” he says, and with that he’s gone.
Rose looks troubled. “Didn’t mean to chase him away.”
“You’re not.” He rolls over onto his side, propping his head up on one hand. “He never stays. You know him - sleeping’s not exactly his thing.”
“He needs to sometimes,” she says softly.
“Yeah. I’m working on it.” He tugs her hand lightly. “Lie down, make yourself comfortable.”
She does, moving to lie on her side beside him, but on top of the covers. She’s still looking uncertain. “Yeah, but I should really go back-”
“I could use the company.” He pulls a face; he’s deliberately manipulating her now, but it’s in a good cause, right? “Who knows, I might end up dreaming again.”
She chews her lip. “He should have stayed.”
“No, really, it’s fine.” He slides his hand up her bare arm, over the thin fabric of her T-shirt sleeve, and then into her hair. “You okay, Rose?”
“Me?” She looks genuinely surprised. “You’re the one who had the nightmare.”
“And you’re the one who thought I’d died on you today.” There’s a flash of remembered pain in her eyes. “See? You know I never wanted you to find out like that, right?”
She nods. “Yeah, I know. Jack, I just wish-”
“No.” He moves his hand, laying a finger against her face. “No more. Told you, it’s got its advantages.”
She’s about to say something, but a shiver distracts her. Silently thanking the TARDIS, he lifts the sheet. “Come on, under here.”
“I shouldn’t,” she protests, but it’s half-hearted.
“Hey, it’s not as if we haven’t slept in each other’s arms before,” he reminds her. “Remember Carpellus? The Doctor getting the time mixed up and not coming back for us until morning? I was a perfect gentleman then, too.”
“Yeah, you were.” She’s grinning as she slides under the sheet and lets him pull her over to lie against his chest. “Never told you that I probably wouldn’t have complained too much if you hadn’t been.”
“Now she tells me,” he groans, wrapping his arms around her.
He’s not going to ask how she feels about it now, though. This is about more than just him and Rose, after all. As the saying goes, all good things come to those who wait... and he can be very patient when he needs to.
He presses a tender kiss to her lips before letting his eyes drift shut.
***
A few hours after he left Jack and Rose in his bedroom, he silently enters the room again. Jack’s been fine in the meantime, he knows; he’s been listening. All the same, the sight that greets him is unexpected: Jack and Rose entangled in sleep.
It shouldn’t really be a surprise, he realises as he approaches the bed. It’s not as if he hasn’t known what Jack wants and what he’s been doing to try to get it. For a moment, he’s tempted just to leave, but then he dismisses the thought. He’s just come for a couple of hours’ sleep, after all. And he certainly shouldn’t be giving anyone the impression that he’s avoiding Rose.
Efficiently, he strips to underwear and a T-shirt, then slides into the bed behind Jack. A moment’s hesitation, which he pushes away, and then he wraps his arm around the two of them, his very dear humans.
One day, perhaps, he might even be able to tell them what they mean to him. And, too, maybe the others he also owes that confession to. One day. For now, it’s enough to hold them and pretend that forever isn’t just a promise that none of them can keep - not even Jack, who realistically could make that promise.
Rose is restless in sleep, enough to make him concerned that she’s having a bad dream too, and after a few minutes of it he moves his hand so that he’s touching her temple. Easy to soothe her, and it takes no more than a second or two. But the frenetic jumble of thoughts that hits him during that brief contact leaves him troubled.
He never meant to make her believe it’d be better if she’d never returned. Or that she’s in the way here. That, though, is easily fixed. Well, it is if he actually makes the effort, and he’s been pretty bad at that, really, hasn’t he, since she came back? But there’s something else, something that’s not at all clear from the glimpse he got; a suggestion that something wasn’t right in the other universe. Not right for her. That she had no choice but to come back. Oh, he’ll have to look into that, won’t he?
Tomorrow, though. After they’ve all had some rest.
When he wakes, it’s because someone’s moving. Rose is sliding to the edge of the bed and getting out, her movements silent and careful, clearly trying not to wake either of them up. Doesn’t take a genius like him to work out why she’s leaving, of course.
Jack stirs; it’s obvious he’s seen Rose, because he starts to reach for her. The Doctor clamps his hand over Jack’s arm. “Let her go,” he murmurs, very quietly, so that she can’t hear him.
“She didn’t have to leave,” Jack protests once she’s gone.
“Yes, she did,” he retorts, keeping his voice low. “Don’t try to force my hand, Jack.”
When Jack turns to face him, he doesn’t deny the accusation. “You can’t tell me you hate the idea, Doctor.”
“I already told you why it’s not going to happen. And, Jack, has it even occurred to you that she might not want to share, even if you do?”
Jack actually snorts. “If you think that, Doctor, you really don’t know her anything like as well as you think you do.”
He’s about to deny it - no-one, not even Jackie, knows Rose as well as he does - but then he acknowledges the truth. She’s changed. The Rose she is now could sometimes almost be a completely different person. While he’s known that almost since she returned, he hasn’t wanted to admit it, for reasons he’s not even sure he wants to recognise.
Because, if he admits that she’s changed, he’d have to change the way he behaves with her, wouldn’t he?
***
She might have told Jack she’d drop the subject of his nightmare, but that doesn’t mean she’s going to lose all interest in it. Not talking about it’s one thing; finding out what caused it - just what happened to the two of them that’s left him so scarred - is quite another. If Jack, if the two of them, expect that she’ll put it out of her mind as if nothing happened, then he’s definitely got another think coming.
So what if she can’t ask either of them outright what happened? There’s more than one way to skin a cat, after all. Jack mentioned a companion, someone called Martha, who saved the world and spent a year doing it. It’s a leap, of course, but what if the two things are connected?
She waits until Jack’s gone off for a workout and the Doctor’s bent over the console, concentrating on some maintenance he says is non-essential but needs to be done at some point. This, she knows of old, is always the best time to talk to him if she wants information, because his attention’s distracted and his answers can be unguarded.
“So, you travel with anyone else after we got separated?” She’s worked hard to make it sound casual, and she thinks it worked.
“Did I... Oh! Oh, yes. You won’t believe this, actually. There was this bride. In a wedding dress and all. I’d literally just said goodbye to you, and there she was. Shouting at me, demanding to know what I’d done to her. And she slapped me! More than once! Worse than your mum, she was.”
She’s fighting hard to avoid showing her reaction too obviously. That was Martha Jones? That’s the woman who spent a year walking the Earth for the Doctor? “Um... sounds... interesting,” she manages at last.
He glances at her, throwing her a quick grin. “Oh, Donna was interesting, all right. Had a boyfriend - well, fiancé - who’d been feeding her Huon particles for six months. Almost ended up married to him too, and all the time he was helping the Racnoss to invade. Well, that’s not important. I sorted all that, fixed Donna up. She was fine. Asked her to come with me,” he adds, and there’s a wistful tone in his voice. “She wouldn’t. Said I scared her. But she told me I needed someone.”
There’s a tight feeling in her chest, and she wants to go to him, to hug him and tell him he’s got her now. Before, she would have. Now - well, that’s Jack’s place, for one, isn’t it? And anyway, the way he’s been keeping his distance from her she’s not at all sure that he’d like it, even if she did wake up this morning to find him in the bed with her and Jack, his fingertips resting on her shoulder. Not that she’s reading anything at all into that, of course. He had every right to be there; she was the interloper. And she’s sure he was awake when she left, yet he didn’t try to stop her.
She lays her hand on his shoulder; it’s as much as she dares. “You’ve got us now. Me an’ Jack.”
His gaze on hers is warm, and for a moment or two she thinks he’s going to pull her into a hug. But he doesn’t. Turning back to his work, he says, “And then there was Martha. Martha Jones. She’s a doctor. Well, almost a doctor, or at least she was when I met her. I met her on the moon, would you believe! There were these Judoon - intergalactic police, sort of - and they moved Martha’s hospital to the moon. So there we were, on the moon, with Judoon - ooh, I still like that - and she was brilliant. Had to ask her to come with me after that.”
He’s smiling distantly as he talks about Martha, but he’s not looking at her, and that lack of eye contact makes her wonder. What’s he hiding?
“How long was she with you?” Simple question, one that’s not going to raise too much suspicion.
“Ooh, hard to say,” he comments, and it’s clear that he’s barely focused on the conversation. “You know what it’s like. Time-travel makes it hard to count in linear time. Add in the odd paradox and time that never happened... Oh, at least a year. She’s gone now.”
Well, that much is obvious. And time that never happened? She’s got to know more about that, but she’s not going to ask him; he won’t talk about it. “She go back to finish her training?” Jack didn’t say Martha was a doctor. From a shop-girl to a highly-educated professional. Good job she didn’t meet Martha a couple of years ago. She’d have been over-conscious of her own lack of education and behaved stupidly as a result.
“Yep.” Now he’s not just focused on his work; he’s actively avoiding looking at her. He’s hiding something.
“Doctor?” All right, now she has to push. “Did something happen?”
He sighs suddenly, and puts down the tools he’s working with. “I treated her badly, Rose. Made her feel like she was second-best. Can you blame her for leaving?” He meets her gaze again, his regret apparent.
“Doesn’t sound like you, Doctor.” She risks covering his hand with hers.
He turns his hand over and squeezes hers for a moment before pulling it back. “I did, though. I missed you. Talked about you a bit too much and she didn’t like that. Well, wasn’t so much that. Talked about how brilliant you were and how you’d have known what to do...” His mouth turns down at the corners and it’s obvious that he’s castigating himself.
He talked about her? And like that? Warmth spreads inside her at the realisation that he still missed her even though he had someone else with him. But then she quashes that, ashamed that she might be feeling happy at someone else’s misery.
“Oh, Doctor. Poor Martha, she really must’ve felt unwanted.”
“Thanks. Didn’t know that already.” He’s looking away again, pretending to poke at something on the console.
“Sorry.” She lays her hand on his forearm.
He glances up again. “Would’ve thought you’d be happy. I mean, you thought I’d never mention you once you were gone, didn’t you?”
Oh. Right. Sarah-Jane. “I was younger then, Doctor. Immature an’ selfish. Can’t tell you how many times I wished I could go back an’ do it differently.”
“Wasn’t only you. I seem to remember Sarah being a bit...” He grins impishly. “...bitchy? Can I say bitchy? - too.”
“We sorted it in the end, though.” And she’s always been glad about that. “Seen her since, Doctor?”
He looks away again. “No.”
Oh, Doctor. Keeping her voice light, avoiding any hint of criticism, she simply says, “Pity. I’d like to see her again.”
“Oh, no. Couldn’t take Jack anywhere near her. He’d flirt. He always flirts. Says he’s only saying hello, but...”
Once, she’d have let herself be diverted along with him and laughed with him. Now, she recognises the tactic. Deflection, pushing her away from somewhere he doesn’t want to go. He really doesn’t like going back, does he? Sarah, Martha... they’ve gone and that’s that. Oh, if he meets up with them by accident that’s okay, but he’ll never actually go back to see them.
It’s amazing that he’s accepted Jack back, but then they are lovers. As for her, she’s now starting to understand the distance he’s keeping. It hurts, but she’s only got herself to blame. She’s the one who came back.
Anyway, that’s not getting her what she needs. “Back to Martha - I know you only take the best. She was, wasn’t she?”
That gets her a smile. “Oh, yes. Saved the world, Martha Jones did.”
Right. Confirming her suspicions, perhaps. “So what’s she doing now?”
He’s suddenly very interested in a dial on the console. “Working for UNIT. She’s fine. Doing well, Jack says.”
“Oh? He keeps in touch?”
He nods. “A bit. They talk sometimes.”
Ah. That means Jack must have her number. Good. “That’s nice. Maybe I should talk to Jack. We could start a companions’ club. Me an’ Sarah, him and Martha - that’s four of us for a start. Bet we’d all have stories to tell.”
He looks horrified. Terrified. “Don’t you dare-”
“Kidding.” She wraps her arm around his waist in a quick squeeze. “You know I’m glad to be back, don’t you?”
This time, he gives her a brief, one-armed hug. “I’m glad you’re back too. But why’d you say that? You didn’t think I was?”
She hesitates, then decides he needs to hear what she’s been thinking. “Sometimes I think you think we’re all worse off for being with you. An’ that’s just not true. I bet if you ask Martha she’d tell you she’s glad she met you. I know Sarah-Jane is. An’ even Mum... she misses you. Even says so, sometimes.” Said so, she corrects herself silently. Oh, Mum.
His gaze turns regretful. “I’m not always the best of influences. Really. If you knew what I did to Martha and her family, and I don’t want to talk about it, so don’t ask.” He releases her and stands awkwardly, hand tugging at his ear. “Rose, you know I’m crap at... at... well, this saying what I really feel thing.”
She gives him a sympathetic smile. “Too human for you, yeah?”
“Something like that.” He nods jerkily. “But if I’ve let you think... I’m glad you’re back. I really, really missed you.”
“Missed you too,” she tells him again. “All the same, Doctor, I probably shouldn’t have done it, yeah? Should’ve left well enough alone. But then I seem to make a habit of not doing that.”
“Jack, you mean?” His fingers curl around hers. “You didn’t know what you were doing. You had power that even I would have trouble controlling. It really wasn’t your fault.” He glances towards the console. “What you did - sometimes I think it was more the TARDIS than you.”
There’s a lump in her throat suddenly. Damnit, this was supposed to be just a casual conversation to get some information. Not... “If I could undo it, make Jack mortal again, you know I would?”
“To be honest...” He exhales slowly. “Jack won’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m glad he’s the way he is. I ran from him, I told him he was wrong, but the truth is if he wasn’t immortal he’d have died again long ago.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I’m going to have to do something about him - he can’t just live and live until the end of the universe and beyond - but he’s alive and I’m glad.” He leans in and presses a kiss to her forehead. “Thank you.”
That does it; the choke escapes in a sob, and she wraps her arms around him, practically begging for a hug. He gives it, holding tight, and says quietly against her hair, “Some time soon, Rose, you’re going to have to tell me why you really came back. Because I know there’s something you haven’t told me, isn’t there?”
And there she thought she’d done a great job of hiding it, and that he was his usual oblivious self. “Yeah,” she finally confesses. “Not now, though, please?”
His arms tighten. “Course. But you’ll tell me?”
She nods, pulling out of his arms; Jack’ll be here any minute and she doesn’t want the questions she knows he’ll have. He’s far more pushy than the Doctor, after all. “Later, all right?” Turning, she hurries from the room.
***
tbc
Author: wmr wendymr
Sequel to: Broken Threads (Series: Tapestry)
Characters: Tenth Doctor, Jack Harkness, Rose Tyler; Team Torchwood and other characters in minor roles
Rated: PG13
Disclaimer: None of them are mine, and that's a good thing ;)
Spoilers: DW: S3 and VotD; TW: pretty much all of S2, though this is completely AU.
Summary: She's back, and it should be just as it was before, the three of them... but can you ever really go back?
As before, my thanks to dark_aegis and kae_nine for BRing and reassurance. This is a sequel to Broken Threads, as noted, and might not make a lot of sense without it. So sorry for the very long delay between chapters! RL has been interfering in very many ways, but normal service should resume now.
Chapter 1: Transmission Complete l Chapter 2: Minefields l Chapter 3: Papering Over Cracks l Chapter 4: Secrets and Lies
Chapter 5: Mystery
It feels like she’s been tossing and turning for hours. There’s just far too much on her mind to let her sleep. So many discoveries today; so many secrets they’ve been keeping from her.
There was this singing...
I sang a song and the Daleks ran away.
He lied. He lied about so many things.
Ah, he’s busy. Rebuilding the Earth.
Worse, though, is what she did. Regardless of her motives, the consequences remain, and Jack’s been living with them ever since. He’s going to live with them eternally, isn’t he?
Then there’s when she refused to believe that the Doctor was the Doctor. And those days afterwards when, even though she finally believed him, she couldn’t accept him. Kept her distance sometimes. Looked at him and was disappointed not to see short-cropped hair, big ears and piercing blue eyes.
She blamed him for changing, and all the time it was her fault. Yet, other than that one time on the Sycorax ship, he never complained.
They’ve both told her that she’s forgiven and she should let it go. And, yes, she will, at least in front of them. Not accepting forgiveness is every bit as bad as refusing to accept an apology, after all, and playing the martyr and continually acting as if she needs to do penance would just make her impossible to live with, particularly around the two of them. They’re both the moving on sort, after all. Still doesn’t stop her recognising the seriousness of what she did, and to two of the people she loves most in any universe. There’ll be a way. Somehow, some time, there’ll be a way to make it up to them.
She thumps her pillow and turns over again, impatient for sleep. But now there’s something else keeping her awake. It’s right on the edge of her awareness, but what...?
It sounds like someone crying out, pleading for help. But that doesn’t make sense. There’s only the three of them on the TARDIS, and Jack and the Doctor’s rooms - or probably room, now - aren’t anywhere near her. Just her imagination, probably.
But, no, there it comes again. It’s definitely someone crying for help. A man. Sort of sounds a bit like -
Jack!
Throwing back the covers, she scrambles out of bed, not waiting to grab her robe before hurrying out of the bedroom. In the hallway, she can still hear it: occasional shouts and cries, panic and fear and dread. Yet it’s weird. She’s hearing it, but it feels like it’s inside her head, not coming from outside. She’s not hearing with her ears, but with her... her mind? And the fear and horror are somehow inside her too, yet they’re not part of her.
Following the sounds takes her to a room she’s been to before, but not for a very long time. Not since her first Doctor and the night after they ended up in Van Statten’s museum. Then, too - oh, she’d forgotten, it’s been so long ago - a feeling of distress and pain so strong she couldn’t ignore it drew her here. The Doctor, in pain from Van Statten’s torture and haunted by memories of war, was caught in what she would have called a nightmare only he was awake, sort of. She stayed with him, tried to soothe and reassure him, until he calmed and was able to talk to her. He sent her away then, insisting he was all right.
Then, he told her that he must have been broadcasting so strongly that the TARDIS somehow sent an image of his mental state into her head. It’s rare, he told her, but after all he’s telepathic and so is the TARDIS, and she already has a route into companions’ heads through the translation circuit. It never happened again, and she suspected that was because he made sure of it.
It’s happening now, though, and with Jack, which is weird - and worrying.
The door’s slightly ajar. Very carefully, she peers around the corner; if the Doctor’s there too she’s not going to disturb them. It’s not her place, after all; it’s his.
Jack’s alone in the bed, thrashing around, fists clenched in the sheet that’s pooled around his hips. But it’s the words she’s finally able to distinguish that send a cold chill through her.
“Don’t hurt him. Kill me. Kill me!” His body jerks. “Doctor? Doctor! Master, no... Cut my head off. You wanna try? See what that’ll do? Don’t hurt him!”
Cut his head off? What sort of nightmare...?
In an instant, she’s beside the bed, sitting on the edge, laying her hand gently on his arm. “Jack? Jack!”
He flings her arm off. “You bastard, Master! He did nothing... Aah!”
“Jack!” She tries again, this time sliding her hand down his forearm, over his wrist and trying to pry his fingers from the sheet. “It’s me. Rose. Jack, you’re safe. You’re on the TARDIS. No-one’s hurting you.”
Again, he jerks and pulls away from her hand. “Get away from him! Why do you - oh, god. No!”
Abruptly, he rolls over, pushing her back, and suddenly she’s pinned to the bed beneath him, his hands hard and bruising against her shoulders. “Bastard! If I didn’t know you’d only regenerate, I’d break your neck.”
Regenerate? What? Is the Doctor the enemy, whatever his nightmare’s about?
Staying completely still - if she struggles, he’ll only increase his force and hurt her, maybe even kill her - she tries again to get through to him. “It’s Rose,” she repeats. “Rose. You’re safe, Jack.”
His fingers dig into her shoulders, one forearm pressing against her throat, enough to make its presence felt though not hard enough to block her airway. “Doctor! You killed him, you-”
“Jack.”
The Doctor’s voice, steady and calm, comes from behind her, close to the door. Straining, she can just see him in the edge of her vision.
“Rose, stay very still,” he says, his voice soft as he approaches. “Jack, it’s me. Time to wake up.”
Jack’s not moving. Now, he’s muttering things she can’t decipher, and he’s not letting her go.
“He was saying stuff... don’t hurt him, kill me - and he said your name. An’ he kept saying Master.”
The Doctor sits on the bed next to her, his thigh pressed against hers. “It’s not important. Just stay still. I don’t want you getting hurt.” He leans over her and lays his hands against the side of Jack’s face. “Jack. Listen. Yes, you can hear me. It’s over. Remember? We ended it. It’s all right.”
We ended it? So, whatever Jack’s dreaming about, it’s something that really happened, and to the two of them, not just Jack. And it was bad. Yet another secret they’ve kept from her, it seems.
“That’s right,” the Doctor murmurs, though Jack hasn’t moved, hasn’t said another word. “Now, let Rose go. Gently, now.”
She’s seen the Doctor’s mind-linking technique before, of course, but the effect can still stun her. One hand releases her, then the arm’s removed as Jack rolls to his side, and then onto his back. Even as Jack moves, the Doctor manages to keep his fingers in place.
“Good lad,” the Doctor says soothingly. “Now, you’re going to wake up, all right?”
Right on cue, Jack’s eyes flicker open.
***
The Valiant, the Master and the bloodied, aged body of the Doctor disappear, and he’s blinking, momentarily disoriented, as he focuses on the Doctor’s face - back to impossibly young - looking down at him.
“Shit. Bad dream.”
“Yeah.” The Doctor straightens, and it’s then Jack realises that the Doctor’s fingers were against his temples. Damnit. Must have been bad, then, if he had to use his mind-voodoo to pull him out of it.
And, yeah... as his brain begins to focus, he’s remembering. A voice inside his head telling him to wake up, that it’s safe. Telling him to let Rose go -
Rose?
Oh. A warm, soft body’s next to him - how did he miss that? His gaze shoots to her, to find her watching him, her eyes worried. “You all right, Jack?” she asks as soon as she sees him look at her.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.” She’s here, though - they’re both here - which has to mean he was making a lot of noise, though how Rose would hear him from her room he has no idea. The Doctor’s different; nothing happens on the TARDIS that he doesn’t know about, of course.
Let go of Rose...
His eyes narrow. “Did I hurt you? Rose? What did I do?”
She shrugs. “Nothing. You were havin’ a nightmare, that’s all.”
Damn, now she’s lying to protect him. He looks up at the Doctor, silently demanding the truth. The Doctor’s mouth turns down at one corner. “I came in to find you pinning her down with your arm across her throat. Think you thought she was the Master.”
Oh shit. “Rose?” He traces her throat very gently with his fingers. “Don’t lie to me. Did I hurt you?”
“No. No,” she insists, pulling herself up into a sitting position with her legs off the bed. “Really. I’m fine. But what about you? What was that all about?”
He and the Doctor exchange glances. They’re in agreement, he can see; no talking about the Master or that year. It’s over and done with. They’ve both put it behind them, or he would have if he could stop having these stupid nightmares. It really isn’t that often, but enough for it to be annoying. And, too, obviously often enough for the Doctor to be aware of it, though he had no idea his lover knew.
“It’s not important. Best forgotten,” he says, but immediately realises that it was the wrong thing to say to get her to drop it. “No, really,” he adds quickly. “Bad experience, over and done with, and I really want to forget it. Please?”
Her face softens and there’s deep compassion in her gaze. “Course, if that’s what you want.” She begins to stand. “Anyway, you’re all right now, so I’ll just get out of your way-”
He catches hold of her arm, deliberately gentle after what he’s just done to her, his fingers caressing her skin. “You’re not in the way. Stay.”
She looks from him to the Doctor, unsure, clearly uncertain of her welcome, her place in this room that’s theirs and the relationship that excludes her.
The Doctor meets his gaze, and somehow he knows the older man knows what he’s up to. Smiling slightly, the Doctor says, “Take it you’re all right now, then? Don’t need me?”
With his free hand, he reaches up, stroking the Doctor’s face with his fingertips. “Always. But I’m fine now, if that’s what you mean.”
The Doctor nods. “I’ll get back to what I was doing, then. Don’t keep each other up talking too long,” he chides with mock sternness. “Don’t want you too tired to run for your lives tomorrow.” He bends, presses a kiss briefly to Jack’s lips, then looks at Rose. His expression’s tentative, unsure, but then he leans towards her, his movements jerky, and he brushes a kiss against her forehead. “Night,” he says, and with that he’s gone.
Rose looks troubled. “Didn’t mean to chase him away.”
“You’re not.” He rolls over onto his side, propping his head up on one hand. “He never stays. You know him - sleeping’s not exactly his thing.”
“He needs to sometimes,” she says softly.
“Yeah. I’m working on it.” He tugs her hand lightly. “Lie down, make yourself comfortable.”
She does, moving to lie on her side beside him, but on top of the covers. She’s still looking uncertain. “Yeah, but I should really go back-”
“I could use the company.” He pulls a face; he’s deliberately manipulating her now, but it’s in a good cause, right? “Who knows, I might end up dreaming again.”
She chews her lip. “He should have stayed.”
“No, really, it’s fine.” He slides his hand up her bare arm, over the thin fabric of her T-shirt sleeve, and then into her hair. “You okay, Rose?”
“Me?” She looks genuinely surprised. “You’re the one who had the nightmare.”
“And you’re the one who thought I’d died on you today.” There’s a flash of remembered pain in her eyes. “See? You know I never wanted you to find out like that, right?”
She nods. “Yeah, I know. Jack, I just wish-”
“No.” He moves his hand, laying a finger against her face. “No more. Told you, it’s got its advantages.”
She’s about to say something, but a shiver distracts her. Silently thanking the TARDIS, he lifts the sheet. “Come on, under here.”
“I shouldn’t,” she protests, but it’s half-hearted.
“Hey, it’s not as if we haven’t slept in each other’s arms before,” he reminds her. “Remember Carpellus? The Doctor getting the time mixed up and not coming back for us until morning? I was a perfect gentleman then, too.”
“Yeah, you were.” She’s grinning as she slides under the sheet and lets him pull her over to lie against his chest. “Never told you that I probably wouldn’t have complained too much if you hadn’t been.”
“Now she tells me,” he groans, wrapping his arms around her.
He’s not going to ask how she feels about it now, though. This is about more than just him and Rose, after all. As the saying goes, all good things come to those who wait... and he can be very patient when he needs to.
He presses a tender kiss to her lips before letting his eyes drift shut.
***
A few hours after he left Jack and Rose in his bedroom, he silently enters the room again. Jack’s been fine in the meantime, he knows; he’s been listening. All the same, the sight that greets him is unexpected: Jack and Rose entangled in sleep.
It shouldn’t really be a surprise, he realises as he approaches the bed. It’s not as if he hasn’t known what Jack wants and what he’s been doing to try to get it. For a moment, he’s tempted just to leave, but then he dismisses the thought. He’s just come for a couple of hours’ sleep, after all. And he certainly shouldn’t be giving anyone the impression that he’s avoiding Rose.
Efficiently, he strips to underwear and a T-shirt, then slides into the bed behind Jack. A moment’s hesitation, which he pushes away, and then he wraps his arm around the two of them, his very dear humans.
One day, perhaps, he might even be able to tell them what they mean to him. And, too, maybe the others he also owes that confession to. One day. For now, it’s enough to hold them and pretend that forever isn’t just a promise that none of them can keep - not even Jack, who realistically could make that promise.
Rose is restless in sleep, enough to make him concerned that she’s having a bad dream too, and after a few minutes of it he moves his hand so that he’s touching her temple. Easy to soothe her, and it takes no more than a second or two. But the frenetic jumble of thoughts that hits him during that brief contact leaves him troubled.
He never meant to make her believe it’d be better if she’d never returned. Or that she’s in the way here. That, though, is easily fixed. Well, it is if he actually makes the effort, and he’s been pretty bad at that, really, hasn’t he, since she came back? But there’s something else, something that’s not at all clear from the glimpse he got; a suggestion that something wasn’t right in the other universe. Not right for her. That she had no choice but to come back. Oh, he’ll have to look into that, won’t he?
Tomorrow, though. After they’ve all had some rest.
When he wakes, it’s because someone’s moving. Rose is sliding to the edge of the bed and getting out, her movements silent and careful, clearly trying not to wake either of them up. Doesn’t take a genius like him to work out why she’s leaving, of course.
Jack stirs; it’s obvious he’s seen Rose, because he starts to reach for her. The Doctor clamps his hand over Jack’s arm. “Let her go,” he murmurs, very quietly, so that she can’t hear him.
“She didn’t have to leave,” Jack protests once she’s gone.
“Yes, she did,” he retorts, keeping his voice low. “Don’t try to force my hand, Jack.”
When Jack turns to face him, he doesn’t deny the accusation. “You can’t tell me you hate the idea, Doctor.”
“I already told you why it’s not going to happen. And, Jack, has it even occurred to you that she might not want to share, even if you do?”
Jack actually snorts. “If you think that, Doctor, you really don’t know her anything like as well as you think you do.”
He’s about to deny it - no-one, not even Jackie, knows Rose as well as he does - but then he acknowledges the truth. She’s changed. The Rose she is now could sometimes almost be a completely different person. While he’s known that almost since she returned, he hasn’t wanted to admit it, for reasons he’s not even sure he wants to recognise.
Because, if he admits that she’s changed, he’d have to change the way he behaves with her, wouldn’t he?
***
She might have told Jack she’d drop the subject of his nightmare, but that doesn’t mean she’s going to lose all interest in it. Not talking about it’s one thing; finding out what caused it - just what happened to the two of them that’s left him so scarred - is quite another. If Jack, if the two of them, expect that she’ll put it out of her mind as if nothing happened, then he’s definitely got another think coming.
So what if she can’t ask either of them outright what happened? There’s more than one way to skin a cat, after all. Jack mentioned a companion, someone called Martha, who saved the world and spent a year doing it. It’s a leap, of course, but what if the two things are connected?
She waits until Jack’s gone off for a workout and the Doctor’s bent over the console, concentrating on some maintenance he says is non-essential but needs to be done at some point. This, she knows of old, is always the best time to talk to him if she wants information, because his attention’s distracted and his answers can be unguarded.
“So, you travel with anyone else after we got separated?” She’s worked hard to make it sound casual, and she thinks it worked.
“Did I... Oh! Oh, yes. You won’t believe this, actually. There was this bride. In a wedding dress and all. I’d literally just said goodbye to you, and there she was. Shouting at me, demanding to know what I’d done to her. And she slapped me! More than once! Worse than your mum, she was.”
She’s fighting hard to avoid showing her reaction too obviously. That was Martha Jones? That’s the woman who spent a year walking the Earth for the Doctor? “Um... sounds... interesting,” she manages at last.
He glances at her, throwing her a quick grin. “Oh, Donna was interesting, all right. Had a boyfriend - well, fiancé - who’d been feeding her Huon particles for six months. Almost ended up married to him too, and all the time he was helping the Racnoss to invade. Well, that’s not important. I sorted all that, fixed Donna up. She was fine. Asked her to come with me,” he adds, and there’s a wistful tone in his voice. “She wouldn’t. Said I scared her. But she told me I needed someone.”
There’s a tight feeling in her chest, and she wants to go to him, to hug him and tell him he’s got her now. Before, she would have. Now - well, that’s Jack’s place, for one, isn’t it? And anyway, the way he’s been keeping his distance from her she’s not at all sure that he’d like it, even if she did wake up this morning to find him in the bed with her and Jack, his fingertips resting on her shoulder. Not that she’s reading anything at all into that, of course. He had every right to be there; she was the interloper. And she’s sure he was awake when she left, yet he didn’t try to stop her.
She lays her hand on his shoulder; it’s as much as she dares. “You’ve got us now. Me an’ Jack.”
His gaze on hers is warm, and for a moment or two she thinks he’s going to pull her into a hug. But he doesn’t. Turning back to his work, he says, “And then there was Martha. Martha Jones. She’s a doctor. Well, almost a doctor, or at least she was when I met her. I met her on the moon, would you believe! There were these Judoon - intergalactic police, sort of - and they moved Martha’s hospital to the moon. So there we were, on the moon, with Judoon - ooh, I still like that - and she was brilliant. Had to ask her to come with me after that.”
He’s smiling distantly as he talks about Martha, but he’s not looking at her, and that lack of eye contact makes her wonder. What’s he hiding?
“How long was she with you?” Simple question, one that’s not going to raise too much suspicion.
“Ooh, hard to say,” he comments, and it’s clear that he’s barely focused on the conversation. “You know what it’s like. Time-travel makes it hard to count in linear time. Add in the odd paradox and time that never happened... Oh, at least a year. She’s gone now.”
Well, that much is obvious. And time that never happened? She’s got to know more about that, but she’s not going to ask him; he won’t talk about it. “She go back to finish her training?” Jack didn’t say Martha was a doctor. From a shop-girl to a highly-educated professional. Good job she didn’t meet Martha a couple of years ago. She’d have been over-conscious of her own lack of education and behaved stupidly as a result.
“Yep.” Now he’s not just focused on his work; he’s actively avoiding looking at her. He’s hiding something.
“Doctor?” All right, now she has to push. “Did something happen?”
He sighs suddenly, and puts down the tools he’s working with. “I treated her badly, Rose. Made her feel like she was second-best. Can you blame her for leaving?” He meets her gaze again, his regret apparent.
“Doesn’t sound like you, Doctor.” She risks covering his hand with hers.
He turns his hand over and squeezes hers for a moment before pulling it back. “I did, though. I missed you. Talked about you a bit too much and she didn’t like that. Well, wasn’t so much that. Talked about how brilliant you were and how you’d have known what to do...” His mouth turns down at the corners and it’s obvious that he’s castigating himself.
He talked about her? And like that? Warmth spreads inside her at the realisation that he still missed her even though he had someone else with him. But then she quashes that, ashamed that she might be feeling happy at someone else’s misery.
“Oh, Doctor. Poor Martha, she really must’ve felt unwanted.”
“Thanks. Didn’t know that already.” He’s looking away again, pretending to poke at something on the console.
“Sorry.” She lays her hand on his forearm.
He glances up again. “Would’ve thought you’d be happy. I mean, you thought I’d never mention you once you were gone, didn’t you?”
Oh. Right. Sarah-Jane. “I was younger then, Doctor. Immature an’ selfish. Can’t tell you how many times I wished I could go back an’ do it differently.”
“Wasn’t only you. I seem to remember Sarah being a bit...” He grins impishly. “...bitchy? Can I say bitchy? - too.”
“We sorted it in the end, though.” And she’s always been glad about that. “Seen her since, Doctor?”
He looks away again. “No.”
Oh, Doctor. Keeping her voice light, avoiding any hint of criticism, she simply says, “Pity. I’d like to see her again.”
“Oh, no. Couldn’t take Jack anywhere near her. He’d flirt. He always flirts. Says he’s only saying hello, but...”
Once, she’d have let herself be diverted along with him and laughed with him. Now, she recognises the tactic. Deflection, pushing her away from somewhere he doesn’t want to go. He really doesn’t like going back, does he? Sarah, Martha... they’ve gone and that’s that. Oh, if he meets up with them by accident that’s okay, but he’ll never actually go back to see them.
It’s amazing that he’s accepted Jack back, but then they are lovers. As for her, she’s now starting to understand the distance he’s keeping. It hurts, but she’s only got herself to blame. She’s the one who came back.
Anyway, that’s not getting her what she needs. “Back to Martha - I know you only take the best. She was, wasn’t she?”
That gets her a smile. “Oh, yes. Saved the world, Martha Jones did.”
Right. Confirming her suspicions, perhaps. “So what’s she doing now?”
He’s suddenly very interested in a dial on the console. “Working for UNIT. She’s fine. Doing well, Jack says.”
“Oh? He keeps in touch?”
He nods. “A bit. They talk sometimes.”
Ah. That means Jack must have her number. Good. “That’s nice. Maybe I should talk to Jack. We could start a companions’ club. Me an’ Sarah, him and Martha - that’s four of us for a start. Bet we’d all have stories to tell.”
He looks horrified. Terrified. “Don’t you dare-”
“Kidding.” She wraps her arm around his waist in a quick squeeze. “You know I’m glad to be back, don’t you?”
This time, he gives her a brief, one-armed hug. “I’m glad you’re back too. But why’d you say that? You didn’t think I was?”
She hesitates, then decides he needs to hear what she’s been thinking. “Sometimes I think you think we’re all worse off for being with you. An’ that’s just not true. I bet if you ask Martha she’d tell you she’s glad she met you. I know Sarah-Jane is. An’ even Mum... she misses you. Even says so, sometimes.” Said so, she corrects herself silently. Oh, Mum.
His gaze turns regretful. “I’m not always the best of influences. Really. If you knew what I did to Martha and her family, and I don’t want to talk about it, so don’t ask.” He releases her and stands awkwardly, hand tugging at his ear. “Rose, you know I’m crap at... at... well, this saying what I really feel thing.”
She gives him a sympathetic smile. “Too human for you, yeah?”
“Something like that.” He nods jerkily. “But if I’ve let you think... I’m glad you’re back. I really, really missed you.”
“Missed you too,” she tells him again. “All the same, Doctor, I probably shouldn’t have done it, yeah? Should’ve left well enough alone. But then I seem to make a habit of not doing that.”
“Jack, you mean?” His fingers curl around hers. “You didn’t know what you were doing. You had power that even I would have trouble controlling. It really wasn’t your fault.” He glances towards the console. “What you did - sometimes I think it was more the TARDIS than you.”
There’s a lump in her throat suddenly. Damnit, this was supposed to be just a casual conversation to get some information. Not... “If I could undo it, make Jack mortal again, you know I would?”
“To be honest...” He exhales slowly. “Jack won’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m glad he’s the way he is. I ran from him, I told him he was wrong, but the truth is if he wasn’t immortal he’d have died again long ago.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I’m going to have to do something about him - he can’t just live and live until the end of the universe and beyond - but he’s alive and I’m glad.” He leans in and presses a kiss to her forehead. “Thank you.”
That does it; the choke escapes in a sob, and she wraps her arms around him, practically begging for a hug. He gives it, holding tight, and says quietly against her hair, “Some time soon, Rose, you’re going to have to tell me why you really came back. Because I know there’s something you haven’t told me, isn’t there?”
And there she thought she’d done a great job of hiding it, and that he was his usual oblivious self. “Yeah,” she finally confesses. “Not now, though, please?”
His arms tighten. “Course. But you’ll tell me?”
She nods, pulling out of his arms; Jack’ll be here any minute and she doesn’t want the questions she knows he’ll have. He’s far more pushy than the Doctor, after all. “Later, all right?” Turning, she hurries from the room.
***
tbc