(no subject)

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

Characters: The Proper Doctor rude_not_ginger and his Improper Companion handysparehand and rather seriously improper Companion itsthecoat
Location: The TARDIS
Time: After Children of Earth but before this.
Warnings: Angst
Notes: Seriously backdated. The Doctor = brown and Handy = green and Jack = blue.

The space carrier was empty save for a handful of personal, shuffling around and looking over the machines as they operated the rest of the ship. Briefly, Jack wondered how long it would be until even they weren't needed. A century or so, maybe.

As it was, even with the shortage of people, sneaking aboard was easy enough. The ship was too wide, everyone worked on too varying a schedule; no one was sure who was who. Jack sat back on one of the crates, staring at the stars above. The ceiling was transparent, whether for aesthetic purposes or easy monitoring of the ship's mechanics, he wasn't sure. The stars twinkled down at him, and he couldn't but smile bitterly; he was back among the stars now, like he'd wanted, with nothing to tie him back to earth, and he couldn't be more miserable.

"Right! Got a signal on Jack," the Doctor said, flipping a few switches on the TARDIS control. "Strange, though, not in the right coordinate vector for Earth. Must be a fault. Now! I'll just home the TARDIS in on the signal..."

The ship rocked and buckled as it hurtled through space, past the un-enterable world of Cardiff, and onwards to a ship on the outer reaches of the galaxy. It landed, though not very well.

The human Doctor stood up, looking over their coordinates.

"How did he end up all the way out here?"

He had an idea or two, Jack's vortex manipulator still seemed to be operational last he checked. Despite that it was still startling that he was this far out.

He shrugged, "Well suppose we'll find out one way or another."

He pushed away from the console and made his way for the doors and opened them, looking up instantly at the transparent ceiling.

"Nice view at the very least," he mused to himself.

A few meters away he saw a very familiar figure sitting on a crate. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and made his way over.

"Hello," he offered, giving Jack a tight sympathetic smile.

Jack's attention was drawn from the ceiling at the unmistakable sound of the TARDIS arriving. Glancing at the two men that stepped out, he gave them a smile on impulse. It was far from genuine. With a sigh, he pushed himself off the crate and began walking towards the ship, intent on brushing past them both.

"It took you long enough, Doctor."

Jack looked old. Not old like old old, but...older. Maybe it was the haircut, maybe it was the way his shoulders slumped down.

Had it already been that long?

"Hello, Captain," the Doctor said, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Bit far off from Cardiff. And, like he said, fantastic view. But not your usual stomping grounds."

He watched as Jack brushed by, giving the Doctor a look, before following.

"Where is this anyway? The - well He helpfully pointed out it wasn't Cardiff. The year is still the same though, isn't it?"

"Same year, different part of the galaxy." Jack didn't even pause as he spoke, just stepped back into the TARDIS. The hum of the ship around him had a calming effect, but it wasn't much.

He headed down the hall and towards his room, if only because nce there, he would have the excuse of sleeping to shut them both out.

The Doctor looked to his human self, his eyebrows furrowed. "Yeah, noticed that when we landed," he said, but not really loud for Jack to hear. The Doctor hopped into the TARDIS, watching him go.

"Jack," he called. "What's going on?"

He looked back at the Doctor, not sure what to do. One part of him told him to just give Jack his space, the other part though, the other part thought maybe this was the part where he was supposed to help Jack.

He jogged after Jack, tagging him on the arm.

"You're all right?"

Jack flinched back at the touch, and silently began to curse. Now they'd know something was wrong, he wouldn't be able to get away with a simple excuse about wanting to sleep.

He paused in his stride and turned to face the human Doctor, the weariness become evident in his expression for just a moment. "It's fine. Don't worry about it, okay?"

The Doctor knew a thing or two about misery and how sometimes talking about it didn't make everything better. At least, not yet.

"Hey," the Doctor called to his human self. He shook his head and gestured for him to come back. "Come on, we've got to get the resubsidized ulterior coordinates corrected before we take off again, yeah? You should see the exterior damage coming out to this part of the galaxy caused, Jack! Like pock marks all over the secondary shell." The latter words were said with as much flippancy as possible, to divert attention from Jack's discontent.

He looked between the two. He gave Jack another look, nearly saying something. He hesitated for a moment then finally walked away. Past the Doctor and too the Console Room once more.

Maybe give Jack a couple days. Still he felt odd just walking away like that, like he should do or say something. Jack would come to him if he felt like talking, maybe just not right away. That would have to be good enough for now.

Jack paused for only a moment before calling out to the Doctor. "I Could take a look at that shell, if you'd like. Check for any other damages, fix a few things while I'm there."

Working with his hands would give him something to do, something to focus on and take his mind off things. He sure as hell wasn't going to be sleeping any time soon.

The Doctor shook his head. "Nah, him and I'll get it put together. You get some rest. Went shopping, so there's proper food in the kitchens for once. Tea, coffee. You like coffee, right? Got a new pot. It has lots of buttons."

He turned around at the voice.

"I think we could use the help," he argued with the Doctor. Doing something useful was always a good distraction. Better than feeling useless. He understood that well enough.

Jack waved his hand dismissively, heading in the direction of the kitchen. He didn't really feel like arguing with them at this point, and he hadn't had anything to drink but bad booze and water for a while now. Once there, he rummaged through the cupboards, finding a biscuit to chew on while he set up the coffee machine. The Doctor was right; it had a lot of buttons, and looked like it hadn't been tampered with yet. It wasn't long before the smell of freshly brewed coffee began to fill the room. Grabbing a random mug from the shelves, he poured himself a cup, blinking down at the dark liquid.

It didn't smell right to him. It was coffee, nothing more in it. But there was something...off about it. It didn't smell like Ianto's coffee.

The thought made Jack's hand tighten on the handle, to the point where there was the slightest trembling in his grip.

There wasn't grief anymore, he was done with that. There was just anger; at the 456, at Froshbisher for trying to have them killed in the first place, and even a bit at Ianto, for having insisted on following him in there. Mostly, though, he was just angry at himself.

A shattering noise broke through his thoughts, causing Jack's head to jerk up. The mug was shattered now, shards of it spread out all over the floor. There was a dark stain where it had hit one of the cupboards, the liquid slowly dripping down. All he could do was stand there and stare at the mess, almost curiously.

"Sometimes you need a little space but aren't sure how to ask for it," the Doctor said to his human self as he went back to the console. "Besides, they don't really need refitting, they'll be fine for another quarter of a century or so."

He stared at the console for a few minutes, then opted to send them somewhere quiet. Like Canada. Canada was quiet, wasn't it?

Part of him wanted to ask his human self what he thought was going on. The other part of him wanted to ask Jack what was going on. The final part wanted to know why there was such a weird buzz in the air conditioning room. Should he check it out? Probably. But when? Right now? No, no, too much going on. How about now? No, no, in a few minutes. It's a very loud buzz. All right, just give me a mo'...

There was a sound of breaking ceramic and the Doctor looked over to his human self, then half-jogged back to the kitchen.

"You all right, Jack?"

"And sometimes you need something to keep your mind distracted. He volunteered. He obviously wanted to do something with himself."

He sat down, sighing.

"You know there are plenty of things that actually do need repair -"

The sound of something breaking interrupted him. He watched the Doctor jog off, and he followed off at a walking pace.

He poked his head into the kitchen, looking at the two men, and the mess on the floor. He stayed just outside the kitchen, leaning a little in the doorway.

"Nothing's safe in this kitchen, is it?" he offered lightly. He tried to mask his concern as he looked back up at Jack.

For a moment, Jack simply ignored them both. He kept staring at the mess that had formed, almost as if trying to figure out if it had really been him who made it. Finally, he settled on giving them a slight shrug, not bothering to turn around. "It's fine, I'll clean it up. I guess the cup must have slipped from my hand"

The Doctor knew his human self was right. Jack wanted something to do, something to distract him. And, in a way, the Doctor wouldn't have minded giving Jack that, letting him fall into the depressions the Doctor often did. But, for some reason, the escape he gave himself wasn't good enough for Jack.

"Must've," he said. He moved to help Jack, leaning down and picking up the handle of the mug from where it shattered. He looked at it, all yellow and circular, a great big broken 'c' that really would never be much more than useless.

Yellow.

"Schoolbuses," he said. "In Cardiff. With military escorts, am I right?" The last question was directed to his human self. He turend back to Jack. "Not to mention bombs going off. You've had quite a busy week, Jack."

"Yeah, you're right," he nodded, answering the Doctor. He was perplexed to say the least.

What had happened to sometimes you need a little space? It had quickly gone from one extreme to another.

He looked around for a moment, awkwardly.

"He broke the microwave and the toaster while you were away," he offered, not really sure what that was meant to do. Perhaps steer the conversation away just a bit from where it was heading. He didn't want to push Jack too quickly. He wanted to know, but this was feeling slightly like an ambush, despite the fact it was meant as anything but.

"I didn't break it, I took it apart. There is a difference."

Jack knelt besides the Doctor, though he kept his distance from him as he began to pick up the pieces. There was a slight tensing at the mention of Cardiff, but he forced his body to relax again, focusing only on the mess. "Yeah, busy week for everyone. I couldn't get a hold of you."

Despite his best efforts, some bitterness slipped into his tone. It wasn't the Doctor's fault, he knew that. It was the 457. But he should have been there. He should have saved Earth, like he always did. Then maybe it would have been a day where everybody lived. Torchwood never had those days. They seemed to belong solely to the one person that could have done something. Changed something.

But it was no use dwelling on that now. With the shards still in his hand, he stood and placed the counter, not wanting to brush past the Doctor in order to reach the garbage dispenser.

"Yeah, sorry," the Doctor said with no small amount of embarrassment. "Incident with the TARDIS, had to take apart a few kitchen supplies to get her back and running properly. And then..."

He looked up to his human self, then back to Jack again. "Then something happened, it kept the TARDIS locked out of Earth, 21st century. Saw what was left of Torchwood, but I couldn't get to you. Well, we. And we tried, Jack, we really did."

He lingered a little in the doorway, halfway between entering and being outside the room before he finally entered. He stayed where he was though, arms crossed over chest, looking at the two of them.

He knew he shouldn't ask, but still, just the small glimpse of what they saw, he felt compelled to know.

"What happened down there?"

Or maybe he didn't want to know, but the question was hanging there now and couldn't be taken back.

The last thing Jack wanted to do was talk to someone about this. He knew that they would both understand that he didn't have a choice, in any of it, and that they would forgive him. But maybe forgiveness wasn't what he needed right now.

"A few years ago, I gave twelve children to the 456. They're an alien race, offered us a cure to a new strand of virus," his voice was steady as he spoke, devoid of emotion. "Then they came back. They wanted ten percent of the population this time. The government didn't want it's involvement to be known, so they killed us, everyone who had been involved that day. They killed me and put a bomb inside me, without me knowing. It set off while I was still inside the Hub."

Maybe he could get away with telling them just that. Maybe they wouldn't push it anymore, just infer the worst and let him be. He could hope.

But Jack survived. Well, of course Jack survived. The walking Fact, he was. The Doctor moved to his feet and took a step back, listening. Giving Jack the space to talk.

"Twelve children?" he asked, a little wide eyed. He didn't have time to filter his thoughts before speaking, his mind boggling at what he was being told.

He stopped then, remember those buses with children. They wanted ten percent of the population this time.

"Ten percent? They just - they handed over ten percent of the children?"

The whole thing made him feel ill. Perhaps given a few more minutes to properly process this he might've known not to say anything. Still, twelve children was horrifying enough, ten percent...well he wasn't sure what ten percent was.

There was a spark of anger in Jack's expression, but he quickly forced back a more neutral look, though he looked right at the human Doctor as he spoke. "They wanted to. They made the deals, and prepared to transport all the children there. The politicians involved decided to figure out a way to keep their families out of it, so they chose the lowest ten percent."

He couldn't help running a hand through his hair, then,closing his eyes at the memory. We stopped them, though. We had to sacrifice one child, but they didn't take a single one. I'm still not quite sure what happened to them."

It wasn't just a child, though. A voice in his head was quick to remind him of that. It was Stevens, his own grandson. A young boy who had trusted his 'Uncle Jack' enough to follow him to his own death. It wasn't aliens that killed him; Jack did. And he did so willingly

"Except for the twelve," the Doctor said as he crossed his arms, his voice cold.

It was cruel, he supposed, focusing on the children, but the very concept of Jack just surrendering them made him ill. It was something that not one was taken now, but what about before?

Time is and was and would be all at the same time for a Time Lord. And when Jack made one choice, he simultaneously made all the others.

"Do you know what they did with them? The...what did you call them? 456?"

He wasn't paying attention to the Doctor, he was completely focused on Jack.

"Lowest ten percent, what does that mean?"

Unlike the Doctor, his tone wasn't cold, it was more confused and shocked and perhaps horrified by the entire idea of this happening. It was horrible enough that they were giving over children, the fact that there was some system of choosing made it that much worse. And that in itself was shocking, because he honestly didn't think it could be worse than what he knew all ready.

"I had no choice!" The anger was clear in his tone, then. In his expression, in his posture, everything. "If I hadn't done it, then thousands, maybe millions of people would have died! It seemed like the best choice then. I didn't know they were going to come back, I-"

He was shaking again. Trembling from anger? He wanted to believe that. It seemed like the less cowardly option. "They used them as a drug. The children felt no pain, they beyond their extended lifespans....hooked up to the 456."

The Doctor sneered a little. "The Vogon Systems," he said, disgusted. "Using the molecular structures of children for drugs. Bit of a healthy market depending on your biological makeup. And they told you they felt no pain. They did."

He stopped the trade, with Benny's help, years in the past. But the past was the present and future and all that. One of the things about time travel.

The Doctor felt angry, now. Livid, actually. Furious that Jack would turn in twelve children to this disgusting trade. Furious again because those monsters had come back and demanded more. Also a little furious because the Doctor couldn't possibly blame Jack. He wasn't entirely sure he wouldn't have done the same.

"But that's not the whole story," he said.

"Stop it," he hissed at the Doctor.

He just felt sick and sad and almost hopeless. The Doctor was right before, the worst was all they could really expect, wasn't it?

He looked back at Jack again. "What did you mean lowest ten percent? What's lowest?"

It was like telling them all over again. Having to face Clem, defend his decision to hand over those children. Except he could fight back now. The Doctor hand't been a victim of all this. He was a bystander, able to simply detach himself from what had happened and comment on the aftermath.

"Then why the hell weren't you there? Hate me for my decision if you have to, but don't you dare feel all high and mighty in your opinion that what I did was wrong." His tone was cold now, angry and far from controlled. "I did what I had to. I made the choice that I thought would save the most lives, like I've been made to do time and time again. Unfortunately for me, not all of us can up and leave on a whim."

He pushed past the Doctor, intent on heading out of the kitchen and down the hall. Where, he didn't know. Somewhere isolated. He stopped at the doorway, glancing at the human Doctor, his tone low when he spoke. He owed him at least that one answer. "The lowest ranking schools according to testing records. It meant none of their families would be taken."

With that, he pushed his way out into the hall, not bothering to give either one of them a second glance.

"You wanted to go back! You knew the risks!"

The Doctor half-shouted his words after Jack, regretting them even as he said them. Even when he wasn't traveling with them, Jack was the Doctor's responsibility. Always. And even Jack knew it wasn't right, not giving up the children.

"I can't always be there. You might not have realized this but I don't exactly just sit around on the TARDIS, waiting for a phone call." Well, he had for a while after Martha promised she'd call, but that was not the point. "Things happen."

The lowest ranking schools. He processed that for a moment. Donna had a few mates with children who had to be in some of those schools.

That's what this reminded him of, that's what it reminded him of the second he saw those buses and military transports. That world, the one where Donna and the Doctor never meant. The stink of it all. That world was rotten the sight and stench of it, and was only meant to exist in awful parallels created by the Trickster's Brigade. It wasn't supposed to be in the real world.

They always had to expect the worst, the Doctor had said that, and it felt more and more like He was right.

"Oh," he offered, but the Doctor was shouting now.

But places like that, circumstances like that, you couldn't just up and run away You had to the best with what you had, and sometimes the best, sometimes it was horrifying and unthinkable. It still didn't change the fact that it needed to be done.

He looked back at the Doctor, then finally moved past Him, jogging a little to catch up with Jack, stopping in front of him and blocking his path.

"I don't think it's your fault," he offered finally, his tone lower and quieter, so only Jack could hear. "Even if you're convinced it is."

He looked down for a moment then back at Jack.

"But you want your space, so, I'll leave you to it."

He hesitated, and then began to move out of Jack's way.

"Ianto's dead."

The words slipped out, as if by their own accord, loud enough that both of them could probably hear it. "He died, along with an office building full of people. And I used my own grandson to stop it all, knowing he would die." It was the first time he'd said it out loud, any of it. Maybe he should have felt relief now that he had, felt himself less burdened by those things. But admitting it to them just made him feel like should run away.

Instead he stayed where he was, leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets. He couldn't bring himself to look at either of them.

The Doctor closed his eyes at Jack's words. Ianto. Oh, not him. There were few people the Doctor actually thought could handle Jack in all of his Jack-ness, but it seemed like his coworker was doing fairly well. He made Jack happy. Jack, in turn, brought him pastries and went back for him. And now, gone.

And his grandson. Wait, what? Since when did he have a grandson? Since when did he have children? Well, the Face of Boe had planets of children, it really shouldn't have been that surprising. The Doctor bit his tongue to keep from asking about it. Whatever grandson he once had, he did not have any longer.

And there was very little worse than losing someone you loved or family. Being the reason for their death, well, that was the thing that was worse. The Doctor knew that emotion all too well.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm so sorry."

He leaned against the wall next to Jack, and gave him a small nudge, and offered a sympathetic look, but didn't say anything. He could say sorry too, but the Doctor had all ready said that. There really wasn't much to say besides that.

"You didn't get a chance to eat yet, did you? Got a bit mad in there. We just restocked the pantries, I could eat a horse I think."

As he looked at Jack, he looked much worse for wear. A meal would do him good. He wondered how long it had been since he let himself have a few minutes peace. However long it had been, the human Doctor could see it had been too long.

"Come on, I think I figured out how to cook. I'll try making something."

He felt like he was using it as an excuse, in a way. They'd stopped asking questions, and that's what he'd wanted.

Pushing off the wall, he gave a soft sigh and quietly made his way back to the kitchen, his face expressionless. He didn't feel anger now, just an odd sort of numbness. He doubted food would do him any good, but going along with things was best; if he tried to fight them, it'd just spur their worry.

The Doctor waited by the door for Jack to pass by. He wanted to offer him some sort of condolences, perhaps an apology? Something. But somewhere in his mind, giving him a chance on the TARDIS was the equivalent of condolences. He wasn't a second chances sort of man, but Jack was getting one.

Anyone else offer up 12 children---13 including his own grandson---they would've been gone. Finito. Done. Not Jack. He didn't even give his human self the benefit of a second chance, the human self he exiled to the other world with Rose.

Maybe the Doctor was getting soft in his old age. Still, he wouldn't make Jack leave. Not now.

"Just tea for me," he said to his human self.

"Oi, I never said I was making you anything," he said to the Doctor as he walked past Him back into the kitchen.

He went over to the counter, hopping up to a sit, then addressing Jack.

"Right. Well, I think I can make eggs. The scrambled sort though, not the sort that you flip. I haven't quite gotten flipping down. Oh, and I've made milkshakes before. And sandwiches, I know how to do that. Or baking, I haven't done that, but how difficult could that be? Bake a cake, or cookies perhaps or... or...."

He struggled for a moment, trying to think of something to talk about besides everything that had happened. He finally looked at Jack and frowned.

"What was his name?"

Jack listened, only half paying attention to the things the Doctor was listing off. If he chose something he couldn't make, then there was always the TARDIS. He would have even missed the question, had it not been for the change in the Doctor's expression.

"Stevens." He answered him as easily as if he was talking about the weather. There was still no emotion in his tone, and his expression remained blank. His answer seemed almost uncaring.

The Doctor gave his human self a Look, but the way he rambled on about cooking meant he couldn't really stay mad at him. After all, that was the way the Doctor talked when he didn't know what else to say.

Except now, of course. He knew what he wanted to say, but he wouldn't say it. He wouldn't hurt Jack. Jack was already hurting.

"Good name," the Doctor said, with a small nod. He wanted to say something else. Something to break the tension, something to wake up the Jack he knew was there. The Jack he said "good-bye" to before.

"It's---" he shook his head. "No, no, it's not all right. But you saved the world. Saved the world at the cost of your family. I know a thing or two about that."

He blinked, looking between the two.

He tried to think of something to say, but he was drawing a blank. Comparing suffering, experience, all those things, it didn't feel like it would work, perhaps the notion would be shot down immediately for him to participate in such a thing. After all, they had centuries between them. He felt very selfish just then for the way his mind traveled. This wasn't about him, he really really needed to work on that. The Doctor was only too right it seemed, he did warp everything around to be about him.

He hopped off the counter and began moving around the kitchen. Tea might do a world of good, tea was always good. He could make tea, and - and let the grown-ups talk? He wasnt sure if that's what this was, but he didn't know what to say, so he could hopefully just concentrate on a task instead.

"You should tell me about that, sometime."

There was no bitterness in his words anymore. There was fatigue, but the anger was gone for now. That was a start, at least. He settled back in his chair and looked between the two, giving him the briefest of smiles before turning back to the human Doctor. "I'll take whatever takes you the least time to make."

The Doctor thought about saying something smart, something rude and thoroughly appropriate for the situation. After all, he didn't like it when things became about him. But his companion was hurting. Jack had become more like the Doctor than he knew, and that would hurt.

He sighed and moved to sit in one of the other chairs in the kitchen.

"I had a granddaughter, once," he said. "And she had children of her own. And grandchildren. Right family unit, there on my home world, until---well, until the War."

He looked to Jack. "It doesn't matter the scale, Jack. Not when it comes to losing family."

He listened to the Doctor as he finished putting on the tea.

"You know, actually," he started, answering Jack, "there's a whole load of pastries, that sort of thing that doesn't even need making. So....and tea's on." He looked around awkwardly, feeling slightly like a third wheel.

"So I'll leave you two to it, it's been a hell of a day, I'll just, well...." he shuffled for a moment, then made his retreat from the room, leaving the other two mean to trade their war stories.

He was quiet as he listened to the human Doctor, watching him leave. Idly, he wondered if maybe he shouldn't have let him leave thinking he was useless. That could wait though. Bad booze and lack of proper sleep had been wearing on Jack for a while, and now that the anger had seeped out of him, he was starting to feel it. He simply rested back against the chair, eyes closed as he spoke.

"They weren't really my family, not in that sense. They were my flesh and blood, but I was never there. She forbade me to. I'd send them the money, sometimes go to see them, but......Stevens, he knew me as his 'Uncle Jack'"

The Doctor felt immediate guilt as his human companion left. He should've been kinder to him. After all, his human self had saved him many times over during their travels. He owed him one. Well, several by now, he was sure.

But, right now, he needed to focus on Jack.

"Doesn't mean you're not family," he said. "It'd been years since I saw Susan. It still...it hurts."

He tried to offer him a reassuring smile, but it fell flat.

Jack wasn't any better at smiling. The expression seemed more bitter than happy.

"It was for the good of the world, what I did. She can't see that, and I don't expect her to, but it was. It saved millions of children. That's worth one sacrifice." He had meant for it to sound firm, like he was comfortable with his decision. As if, unlike the Doctor, it didn't still hurt.

Instead it sounded like he was simply trying to reassure himself.

The Doctor didn't reply at first. He reached out and put his hand on Jack's arm. It was hard at times, touching Jack and all of the wrong-ness there. But sometimes, like now, it felt right to just reach out and make some sort of contact.

"I'd have done the same," he said, quietly. "If I had to."

He did, once. A whole world, his world, for the universe. 20,000 people of Pompeii for a world. He'd sacrifice one to save them all.

It almost made him laugh, the idea of the Doctor giving him such a simple touch. He knew what he was and how he made the Doctor, anyone sensitive to the Time Stream, feel. But that didn't stop the relief that came from that one hand on his arm.

"It doesn't matter now, does it? It's done. The day was saved, lives were lost, and the world has moved on."

"It matters to you," the Doctor said. "Even that one life."

He leaned forward, to stress what he said. "If you didn't care, Jack. If you didn't feel this way, it doesn't matter how much good you did. You'd be wrong."

He smiled, a small, sympathetic smile. "But you do. That's what sets you apart from the Headhunters and the mercenaries and the Masters of the universe. You know what needs to be done, but you feel. It's something to be admired."

He laughed then, though not unkindly. It was strange, hearing the Doctor say he was the one that should be admired. "You make it sound like it's us against the world."

The Doctor smiled, a little wider, now. "You know, in a way it is. Us against the great big universe."

"With me on your side, how could you ever lose?" His smile was more real now, les forced.

"Never would," the Doctor agreed. "Unless we let our other companion drive. You know, I thought I was a rough pilot at times."

His human self piloted just fine, but the Doctor's ego determined that he was a better pilot.

"Oh, I don't know. He does have his moments."

He was teasing now, playing against the Doctor's ego. For a moment, it was as if nothing had changed for him.

The Doctor relented with a nod. "He does. Don't tell him I said so, though. I'll never hear the end of it."

The Doctor's tone became serious again. "You've always got a place here, Jack. We want you here."

Though the smile smile wasn't as wide now, it was still there. It was his turn to reach out and place a hand on the Doctor's arm, the briefest of touches before he settled back in his seat.

"With Torchwood gone...well, I don't really have a responsibility there. Not anymore. I wouldn't mind settling back into my old room."

The touch wasn't unwelcome, but Jack was gone before he could reciprocate. It was a little startling, just how very alike they'd become over these years. Even apart, they'd changed.

"Should be all together. Might have some ice damage in the ventilation systems," he said.

"That's fine. I wouldn't mind tinkering around with those for a bit, see what else could use a tune up here." He stretched, feeling the bones along his back pop. "Later, though. I could use a cup of tea and a few hours of sleep."

The Doctor nodded, watching him go. "Sleep well, Jack. If you need me, I'm here. I promise."

He smiled at the Doctor, the look grateful before he turned and headed towards the door. "I know. Just remember, if anything, I'm here, too."

"I know."

He smiled again and nodded. "I'd better go talk to him. Get some sleep. I'll wake you up once we've landed."

"I appreciate it."

He paused at the doorway, smiling to himself. "Never thought I'd actually be grateful for a chance to sleep." And with that, Jacked stepped out, heading towards his room. For the first time in years, he found himself looking forward to a few hours in bed.