Disclaimers: I do not own Doctor Who, Torchwood, or any of their respective characters. I am making no money from this.
Please do no sue me.
Notes: AU. I have nothing against the 11th Doctor, but I am far too fond of the 10th regeneration. Complete AU.
Second Chances
Part One
The past couple of days had been harrowing, to say the least. First, before his meeting with the Ood, he'd decided that he
needed a drink, if only as a way of delaying what he needed to do a little longer. One more moment in a long string of
diversions. No sooner had he ordered a glass of Pyrovilian Lava, which he had no intention of actually consuming, than he
spotted none other than Captain Jack Harkness sitting at the other end of the bar. Seeing this as nothing more than another
good reason to delay his meeting with the Ood, he picked up his glass and sauntered over.
Before he could say hello, the Doctor found himself sitting on the floor, gingerly holding a hand over his suddenly sore eye.
"What was that for?" He distantly felt a warm wetness in his free hand. He must have spilled his drink as he'd fallen. Not
that it mattered, he hadn't intended to drink it anyway. Amazing concoction though, it stayed warm even when surrounded
by icecubes.
"You weren't there," Jack mumbled, returning to his seat and taking a swig of his own drink.
What followed was a discussion filled with apologies and excuses from the both of them.
The Doctor regretted that he hadn't been there to help Jack. But he wasn't a God, he couldn't be on Earth for every
catastrophe. He couldn't save everyone. Trying to explain that to Jack, who had just lost the man he loved and sacrificed his
own grandson for the sake of the Earth, was not an easy thing to do. In the end, he did the only thing he could think of. He
offered Jack a chance to travel with him again, hoping that it would help with the pain.
For weeks, Jack remained stubbornly hidden inside his room on the TARDIS, not coming out for more than a few minutes at
a time. The Doctor's wedding to good old Queen Bess, was more an attempt to amuse Jack than anything else. The Doctor
had hoped it would at least rouse some flippant innuendo, a lewd comment. But nothing. In the end, the Doctor just had to
move on and live up to responsibility.
He visited the Ood and met with the Ood Elder. Jack had remained on board the TARDIS. Surprisingly. He'd been in the
Console Room when the Doctor had barged in and finally seemed to have taken an interest in something other than his own
misery. Learning of the Doctor's impending death was apparently enough to bring him out of his grief and get him to focus on
helping the Doctor.
Jack had been among those changed by the Master. Despite his disorientation after being restored to his own form, he was
right there to stop the Doctor from stepping in to save Wilf from a massive dose of radiation and a quite painful death.
The Doctor doubted that Carmen, or even the Ood had seen Jack in their visions. When the four knocks had come, the
Doctor himself had forgotten he'd come along. The Doctor had been all set to step inside the isolation chamber and let Wilf
out, when Jack had grabbed his arm and grinned at him.
"I'll handle this," he'd said cockily, pushing the Doctor back.
Wilfred had, of course, been devestated that a young man such as Jack would have to die. He'd tried to beg to be left in
there. The old man had wept as Jack curled up in a little ball on the floor of the chamber, in too much pain to even scream as
a massive dose of radiation bombarded every cell of his body. There had been a good ten minutes of Wilf apologizing to the
Doctor for his loss. His reaction to Jack gasping in a huge lungful of air as he returned to life had been priceless. He'd
actually hugged the immortal man, laughing and crying all over again, in relief this time.
Now, the old man had been returned home safely. he was back with his family, back with Donna. The Doctor felt a pang in
his hearts knowing that she would never, could never, remember him. The brief moment of loss was cast aside as Jack
touched an antisceptic to one of the cuts on his cheek.
"Ow!" the Doctor exclaimed, shifting away. He was sitting in the medical bay of the TARDIS. Not that he wanted to, of
course. Jack was adamant about treating his injuries, as superficial as the Doctor knew them to be. He'd only crashed
through a skylight. A few bruises and cuts were nothing, not when he'd managed to spare himself from an unwanted
regeneration. he liked this body and intended to keep it as long as he possibly could.
"Stop being such a baby," Jack chided. "How old are you again?" He chuckled as the Doctor squirmed.
"Old enough to know I don't need it." He moved to get up, but was stopped by Jack's hand on his arm.
The touch made him wince. There was an injury on that forearm, one that Jack had already bandaged, a sprain to his right
wrist. "Humor me," Jack urged. The pain in his eyes was something the Doctor was loathe to see.
Sighing perhaps a bit overdramatically, the Doctor nodded. He obediently sat there, putting up with Jack's fussing. He
swung his feet back and forth over the edge of the bed.
It couldn't have been more than a minute later that he whined childishly. "But it itches, Jack!" He ducked away from the
other man's hands, trying to keep him from cleaning any more of the minor scratches on his face.
Jack was grinning. "What do I have to do to get you to sit still until I'm done? Promise you a lollipop for behaving?"
"Only if it's pineapple."
The other man laughed, a sound that made the Doctor happy to hear again. It had been too long.
Jack raised his hand to the Doctor's face, cupping his cheek, fingers delicately brushing across the cool skin. A warning bell
went off in the Time Lord's head and he drew back slowly, whispering a single soft word of warning, "Jack."
"Just once, Doctor," Jack urged, keeping his hand on the other man's face. "I'm not asking for the universe." He lifted his
other hand, wrapping his fingers lightly around the back of the Doctor's neck. He moved closer, pressing their foreheads
together and keeping their eyes locked.
"It's not the answer, Jack." He could feel the man's breath across his lips. As tempting as it was to give in, he knew that he
couldn't. "I can't replace him."
The human's reaction was as if the Doctor had slapped him. He jumped back, placing several feet of space between their
bodies. Turning away, Jack wound his arms around himself. He took in a shuddering breath and let it out slowly before
speaking. "I think I'm done with your cuts." Then he was gone, out of the door and out of sight before the Doctor could
open his mouth.
The Doctor groaned as he slid down off of the bed, more for his own ineptness at comfort than for the twinges of pain he felt
in his battered body. Though there were quite a few of those twinges. Jack needed help. He didn't need to be pushed away
at every turn. He should have been more patient. Perhaps he should have said something different, something that wouldn't
have struck the other man so greatly.
He swallowed his pride and followed the immortal, grabbing up his torn shirt and throwing it on as he walked. He'd need to
find a new one, but that could wait until Jack was seen to.
The TARDIS directed his steps, changing the layout of the corridors and rooms so that he reached his destination quickly.
For a pause, he stood framed in the doorway to Jack's bedroom. He'd never entered before, not since the room had been
designated as Jack's. He rarely went into the room of any companion. Their rooms were their sanctuaries, a place they
could be away from him. He knew that traveling with him was not easy at times. Everyone needed a place they could just
call their own.
The lights were dimmed, casting great shadows about the room. But Jack was easy to see, laying prone on the large bed
with his back to the door. There were clothes scattered about the floor, a few trinkets and baubles littering the tops of
furnishings. There didn't seem to be much order to the room, but it also didn't seem overly messy. The Doctor's eyes alit on
a pile of photographs on the closest surface. Some faces he recognized, others he didn't. Photos from someone's wedding.
It was a picture near the top of the pile that drew his eye. He stretched out his hand, using one finger to push it loose from
the pile. Jack's smiling face looked back at him, his one arm stretched outward to hold the camera while his other was
hugging an equally smiling man close. The Doctor recognized him, along with the bride he could vaguely see in the
background of the photograph. He had spoken to them, a long time ago it seemed, a single conversation through the
sub-wave network.
The Doctor casually walked across the room and sat on the edge of the bed behind the human. "Jack?" he asked cautiously,
laying a suddenly unsure hand on the man's bicep. He didn't know what his reception would be. Would Jack still be angry
with him?
Jack rolled to lie on his back and gave the Doctor a searching look. He folded his hands behind his head. It made the
Doctor nervous to be under such scrutiny and he fiddled with the buttons on his shirt, looping a few of them through their
appropriate holes to cover himself a bit more properly. For some reason he felt too vulnerable, even though Jack had just
spent the better part of an hour tending to an array of injuries on his previously bare torso, poking and prodding and judging
his ribs to be whole and sound, if not bruised.
"He told me he loved me," Jack said. He pulled his hands from behind himself and dropped them on the bed on either side
of his body, lightly gripping the bedding in his hands. "He told me he loved me and I couldn't say it back to him."
The Doctor settled his fingers on Jack's wrist. "I am sorry."
Jack sniffed, shaking his head. "I just miss him ... so much," he choked out, his words catching on a sob.
There was nothing the Doctor could say. No words would ease Jack's grief. The wounds were too raw, too fresh.
He shifted on the bed, moving to lie beside the other man. With very little urging, Jack was in his arms, his head resting on
the Doctor's chest. The pressure on his injuries hurt, but for Jack's sake he would endure it.
"Get some sleep," the Doctor suggested, idly twining his fingers in the immortal's dark hair. "I'll stay here. You aren't alone."
"I don't think I can sleep."
"I could help," he offered, letting his fingers press against Jack's temple. It wouldn't take much effort to slide into the human's
mind and lull him into slumber.
Jack's fingers curled around his thin wrist. "Don't." He pulled the Doctor's hand away, but didn't release his gentle grasp.
Silence fell on them. The lights dimmed further, the TARDIS doing her part in helping Jack to rest.
The Doctor closed his eyes and allowed his body to relax. He wasn't particularly tired, but even he needed to sleep
sometimes. Now seemed as good a time as any. He wouldn't sleep long. He rarely did.
*****
When the Doctor awoke, it was to the sensation of fingers dancing across his bare abdomen. A pair of hot lips surrounded
one of his nipples, teeth and tongue toying with the sensitive nub. He drew in a sharp breath, arching up against the foreign
contact.
"Jack, stop." He raised his hands and pressed them firmly to the other man's shoulders. He found it disconcerting how he
was trembling under the immortal's touch. Even more troubling was the fact that his hands had met bare flesh. Jack had
removed his shirt. The Doctor's own shirt was unbuttoned, spread apart and baring his torso to the other man's attentions.
Jack ignored his protests. He shifted his body, swinging one leg over and easing his knee up between the Doctor's thighs.
His hands were knowing and sure, blazing a trail of fire across everything they touched. The Doctor didn't think he'd ever felt
so warm before. It was actually a bit frightening.
"I can't, Jack." He pushed again, faltering when it caused a pain in his injured wrist.
Jack's knee pressed upward, nudging his crotch and sending a flare of sensation along his spine. The Time Lord found
himself gasping again, his hips instinctively pushing back against the pleasurable sensation.
"Looks like you can to me," Jack chuckled against his ear, tongue darting out to trace the shell before he suckled lightly at the
lobe.
The Doctor's hearts were racing. He didn't want this. He wasn't a virgin, but there was a limit to what he was prepared to
do for Jack. Allowing him to continue this was far across that limit.
~You know you want it.~ A voice in his head, a taunting laugh from far in the past. ~Little whore. Shut up and take it.~
"Stop. Please, stop," he pleaded, breath shaking and body trembling. He didn't know who he was talking to anymore.
Jack, or that cold unrelenting presence in his memories.
Jack finally drew back. The Doctor rolled away from him, but didn't get far as Jack's arm circled his waist and pulled him
back against the human's solid body. He held the Doctor there, the heat of his form warming the Doctor's back, his nose
buried in his hair.
"I'm sorry," Jack said, his breath ghosting across the Doctor's neck. There was a short silence before he spoke again. "Who
hurt you?"
The Doctor started, shocked by the innocent question. He turned his face toward the pillow, wanting to sink away, to
escape this awkward moment. "I don't know what you're talking about," he lied.
A huff of breath, a humorless chuckle and Jack was talking again. "I'm not stupid. That wasn't just a case of nerves, or a
lack of desire. You were afraid of me."
"It was a long time ago." That was the only answer he was willing to give. Jack had just better be satisfied with that. "So
many lifetimes ago," he added with a breathless voice.
"I'm sorry," Jack repeated.
The Doctor didn't know what to say. He wasn't about to pour out his deepest secrets. They were secrets for a reason,
things hidden in his past that he wanted to keep buried. "Everyone has ghosts in their pasts," he said finally. Feeling Jack
drawing away, he grabbed the man's wrists, keeping them firmly wrapped around his middle. "I'm not afraid of you, Jack."
He turned to look over his shoulder, trying to offer comfort in the dark of the room. "But try to keep your hormones in
check from now on."
Before Jack could respond, the TARDIS jolted. The lights in the room flickered to life. The Doctor sat up, wincing at the
pain the swift movement caused his battered body. The old ship shook again, nearly knocking both men to the floor.
"What?" he called, uneasily manuevering himself to his feet as the TARDIS shuddered around him.
He hurried from the room, ignorant as to whether Jack was following him or not. The TARDIS was his main concern now.
He could sense so much across their connection. Fear. Confusion. Desperation.
His stomach twisted at his old friend's distress. Another jolt brought him crashing to the floor. His head cracked against the
unyielding surface, bright spots flickering in his vision.
Hands grabbed at him, Jack's hands, hauling him up to stand. The Doctor took off running before his feet were secure under
him and nearly faltered twice more. Jack was there to keep him upright, one hand at his arm and the other around his waist.
He kept pace with the hurrying Time Lord, helping him to remain steady on his feet.
They reached the Console Room as the Cloister Bell started tolling. "Oh no. No, no, no!" The Doctor ran to the console
and scurried around it frantically, never noticing as Jack's hands slipped away from him. The pain in his wounded body was
just as easily ignored, in favor of this complex problem.
"What is it, Doctor?" Jack was trying to help as much as possible, but not knowing what to do hampered his efforts a great
deal.
The lights in the room flickered and the TARDIS groaned around them. The Doctor flittered from section to section, fiddling
with buttons and levers, checking readouts and listening to the worrying emotions threading across his link with his dear ship.
"Someone punched a hole between dimensions and is using the rift in Cardiff to create a doorway and it's letting something
through." He tinkered with a number of controls, narrowing his eyes at the results it caused. "I can't get a good reading on it.
The TARDIS is displaying an erratic array of possibilities." He saw one of the suggestions and frowned. "Oh, that is not
good. We'd better get there and seal that doorway shut. The sooner the better."
"Why? What's wrong?" Jack's voice was worried.
"The universe that's seeping into this one is collapsing." The Doctor didn't tell Jack that the TARDIS was already on her way
to Cardiff. "If that breach isn't sealed, then it could destroy this dimension along with it."
He gripped the edge of the console as the TARDIS gave another violent lurch, but his grip wasn't strong enough and he
tumbled to the floor. Jack's arms encircled him, keeping him from bashing his skull again or damaging himself in some other
way. They were on the floor, kneeling, the Doctor's back against Jack's solid chest. He kept an arm around the Time Lord,
his other hand holding on to the console.
The Doctor held onto Jack's arm, holding his injured wrist close to his chest. They rode out the rough trip, bracing for
another jostle. All through it, the Doctor continued to speak. "Whatever is causing this is using a massive amount of energy.
And the machinery needed to focus it, the Rift alone isn't enough."
One last jolt and the TARDIS arrived at their destination. The Doctor shoved Jack away and scurried to his feet. He leaned
over the controls, confused for a moment. "The breach is closed," he whispered. "Odd. It closed as soon as whatever
popped in crossed over. No sign of instability, nothing wrong at all, like it never happened."
"How?"
The Doctor grinned. "Come on, Jack!" he cried out excitedly, grabbing up his Sonic Screwdriver as he ran out of the
TARDIS with Jack on his heels. He stopped short, Jack bumping into his back. He blinked, rubbing his eyes at the sight
before him.
Jack's gasp behind him assured him that it was real.
"What?" he blinked again. "What?" He turned to look back at his TARDIS before facing an identical structure parked just
across from him. "WHAT?" Disbelieving, he walked over to the completely innocent-looking blue Police Box and circled it,
running his eyes over every minute detail. It was exactly the same. Another TARDIS, he shivered in excitement. That meant
another Time Lord. Another him perhaps, but a Time Lord nonetheless. He was eager to greet this mystery.
Arriving back at the doors, he tried his key, eyes widening when it successfully unlocked the door.
Jack grabbed his shoulder, stopping him from opening the door. "Easy there, Tiger! I might have walked into a few
situations blindly, but this is nothing like any of them." He motioned to the Police Box. "Even I know that two identical
TARDISes in the same place at the same time is not something that happens on a regular basis. I don't know whose
TARDIS it is. YOU don't know whose TARDIS this is. You're injured and shouldn't be reckless in a situation like this."
He pulled out his gun and held it ready. "I know you don't like guns, but I'm not going in there without some way of
protecting you."
The Doctor scowled at Jack. "A TARDIS usually has a safety feature that prevents any sort of firearms from working."
Jack shrugged. "If it won't fire, I can use it as a club." He smiled a little sadly as he regarded the second TARDIS. "Tosh
would have loved this." He nodded to the door. "Ready when you are."
With a grin that he knew told Jack he was more than ready, the Doctor pushed the doors open and walked into a Console
Room that spurred a wave of nostalgia. White walls and a chrome console and roundels so large, it made him wince at the
memory of it all. Not that he hadn't liked the decor in the past, but there was just something that seemed to impart a
sensation of sterility. It had been so long since he had seen his TARDIS look like this.
"I think I'm blind," Jack quipped. "Please don't tell me yours ever looked like this."
The Doctor scoffed. "What this? It is so ... classic!" He smiled, then took his first true step inside.
he was immediately struck by a sense of loss and grief. While his own TARDIS was very much alive, this one was close to
death. The energy of the Rift had coursed through her, been used by her to generate this leap across dimensions. He didn't
have a connection to this one, but he could still feel the energy slipping away, like blood oozing from a fatal wound. It
wouldn't be long now.
He placed his hand against the nearest wall and stroked it gently. "Oh, I am sorry. I'm so sorry." He stroked the wall again.
"She's dying, no worry of her taking off with whatever crew there is." He turned to Jack, who looked gobsmacked by
whatever it was he was looking at. "Jack? What-" He was struck speechless when he walked over to where Jack was
standing.
Two figures were on the floor, one laying prone while the other cradled him close. The Doctor felt his hearts speed at the
sight, his body urging himself to turn and flee. Out of everything he thought he would see, it was not what was actually in
front of him.
The Master, crying and sobbing over the broken and bloodied body of an obviously deceased Doctor. It was distressing to
see his own corpse, still wearing the face of his previous regeneration. The Doctor supposed that whatever parallel
dimension these two came from, events had unfolded quite differently.
The Master looked the same as he had on the Valiant, only his hair seemed a shade closer to blonde. He shook the
unresponsive Doctor held in the cradle of his arms. "Regenerate. Please. Please, just regenerate." Tears dripped from his
chin, dropping onto the lifeless body.
The Doctor reached out and grabbed Jack's arm, shivering. "This is ... Jack, I can't."
The Master looked up then, his eyes locking onto the Doctor's. The Doctor did the only thing he could. He turned and ran.
To Be Continued ...