Pairing(s): Jack/Tenth Doctor, Jack/Eleventh Doctor (mentions)
Spoilers/warnings: Set after Waters of Mars for the Doctor, after The Wedding of Sarah Jane to be more precise. Future!Jack. References to all four seasons of Torchwood. TW: Dark and mental torture at one point

Author's notes: Many thanks to my two betas for their hard work and wonderful support. Also, many thanks to wojelah for correcting the errors left. Written for the Doctor/Jack Gift Exchange on wintercompanion. The Doctor and Jack wouldn't cooperate, things got way out of hand, and well. The result is quite long, and just a tad timey-wimey.

A time to die, A time to build

Jack wasn't pleased to wake up to blazing pain. His killer hadn't even taken the time to push his body out of the way, leaving him in the middle of the control room and going back to checking the screens. He could feel him stepping over his body as the alien went from one visual display unit to the other, the brush of their long hair-tentacles trailing on the ground. In another context, there was no doubt Jack would have loved to test the flexibility of the supple cartilage-based scalp of the Kephlins.

For now though, Jack forced himself to stay completely still, keeping his breathing as stealthy as possible so it wouldn't be noticed. The high priest wasn't aware of his immortality and the Captain wasn't keen on dying again so soon. That was without taking into account the fact that sonic bullets hurt like hell and the inevitable death was a mess, leaving organic fluids all over his face: sticky blood and a soft pinkish beige liquid he suspected had been his brain in his previous life.

Eyelids closed, the Captain could feel his headache growing stronger: maybe his new brain wasn't complete yet. It wouldn't be the first time he had woken up before his body had finished healing. He grimaced, quite happy his face was pressed against the ground's cool tiles. At least the criminal wouldn't be able to see him.

"Jack!" the voices of his partners exclaimed as one when they entered the room.

He was relieved to distinguish the three of them, Grant's high-pitched voice and Laffy and Heln's much deeper ones, with their thick Kephlin accent that made it sound like "Jeq."

When High Priest Elin, the bad guy of the day, blew a raspberry—thrice in succession, very loudly and Jack could feel some saliva dripping on his hands—in what could only be the Kephlin equivalent to fuck, he knew they had almost won. After all, they were alone against three men, and a fake corpse who was only waiting for the perfect moment to show he wasn't so dead after all.

The work was almost done.

Almost, because experience had taught Jack that this was the ideal time for the unexpected things that tended to happen to him. Just like the whooshes of the TARDIS materialising somewhere on his left, probably in the small storage area whose entrance was facing the door where his companions still stood. Typical of the Doctor to have that kind of timing, or rather, typical of the TARDIS deciding she needed him to be here. Another one of these shenanigans the universe and its wicked sense of humour liked to pull.

Which resolved the why and led straight to the real question: which Doctor was it?

Certainly not the one who had brought him here, the one who flailed like he didn't know what to do with his limbs and who had hair that felt like silk between his fingers. And that delicious companion of his, Clara, the mysterious girl who refused to live permanently in the TARDIS and who battled with her like no other companion before. Truth to be told, Jack had appreciated not being the only one to be disliked by the fiery ship. He just hoped for the sweet young woman it was more of a personal matter than a visceral reaction to her being some kind of "wrong".

They had arrived, thinking it was Space Vega, only to be welcomed by the stunned expression of an assembly. The leaders of the world, they had learnt later, when they had escaped from the security staff, who had thought they were the terrorists that had detonated one aisle of the building earlier that day. The state police, the real terrorists had specified when they had crossed path with them, on their way to the closest exit. The Opposition, as they had called themselves, had lead them to a safe place and, in a pure Doctor-like adventure, they had taken an active part in the situation once the events had been explained.

They had overthrown the totalitarian government of a despot that seemed to come out of Orwell's worst nightmares, with much talking between bouts of running. For Jack, there had also been plenty of shooting. Not at living beings though, the Doctor wouldn't have taken that kindly. There had been one or two deaths, which the Time Lord had definitely not taken kindly: the Captain had earned himself a self-righteous talk about recklessness that sounded exactly like the regeneration before that one. Like the Doctor was better on that point.

Still, when the Doctor had told him he needed him here, someone he trusted to take care of the aftermath—after all, the Time Lord never stayed for that, he just left without a word—Jack found he still could only do what was expected of him. The long hug and kiss on the forehead had been his way of saying goodbye. In return, Jack had kissed him like he had kissed another Doctor, lifetimes ago.

Years had passed since then: enough time to create a life on this planet like he had done on Earth. As he thought, he hadn't seen any of the Doctor's faces since.

Once, facing such abandonment—at least, this time it had been as straightforward as the Doctor was capable of—he would have felt a mix of disappointment, anger and grief against the Time Lord, and mostly himself. This time though, he had found out he didn't, or nothing as intense anyway. Maybe because now that he was well into his two-thousand-something years—and that didn't count the ones he had spent buried—he had grown too old for that. After all, he knew what it was to have to leave his dearly beloved behind, he had done it countless times, in one way or another. Also, he had since long lost the illusion that the Doctor was above other men in all regards. Travelling again with the Doctor, joined by Clara every Wednesday, had only reinforced that idea he had had such a hard time grasping: the Doctor wasn't perfect, never had been, never would be.

Not that it mattered, he thought as he heard the doors open. He shifted his head in that direction, all the noise around him dimming in the background as his eyes fell on trainers that belonged in beginning of the twenty-first century. They stopped only a couple of feet from his head. Jack could feel the heavy stare on his back that made his muscles contract.

"Oooh," the Doctor said, and Jack could almost see the mix of surprise and indignation as the Time Lord must have been examining the situation he had walked into. "So many guns, I really don't like guns." The Captain stopped himself from snorting. "Why is he dead?"

The Doctor nudged him in the ribs, his words strangely sounded like, "Why are you here?".

Jack couldn't really answer "Because of you", could he? And now that he thought about it, the older version of the Doctor had obviously known about their meeting and ensured it would happen. He remembered when they had met back on Qliver, somewhere in the sixtieth century, grinning from ear to ear as he had introduced Jack to Clara, saying how glad he was to see him and acting much more tactile than he had ever been, like there was something that had happened between them that Jack had forgotten.

The Doctor had kissed him senseless after an adventure harsher than the others. The Captain had chalked that up to this regeneration's peculiar quirks and happiness to be alive after nearly being burnt to death by an enraged sentient star. He had taken that and savoured the moment as a special occasion that wouldn't happen again before long. The universe had decided otherwise though—not that he had complained—and as soon as they had dropped Clara back on Earth, they had somehow found themselves snogging in the console room.

From that, it wasn't difficult to deduce that an older version of himself had had quite a good time with a younger Doctor somewhen in their timelines. Not that he had anything to say against that when his relationship with the Time Lord had been more than he had ever been able to imagine, even if it hadn't been the one he had dreamt of so many times.

A shrieking sound stirred Jack out of his thoughts, making his headache stronger. The criminal had retreated to a corner of the room, trying to fire those awful sonic bullets at the Doctor, who countered the attack with his sonic screwdriver. The balls were suspended in the air, resonating with the Time Lord's device, hence the dreadful noise.

Time to stop playing dead.

With a grunt, Jack forced himself to stand up and go to the alien, using his surprise to knock his weapon out of their hands, and pass his arms around his shoulders to immobilise him. The Doctor moved to the side, out of the bullets' way, before turning his device off. The relative silence was very welcome.

"Sorry, baby. I never seem to be able to stay dead for long," he mocked the Kephlin high priest as a shorter hair-tentacle lashed at his nose. "Kinky, I like that. Guys." He turned to his companions. "Cuff them now. Bind the hair too, those are nasty things," he hissed when another one hit his left cheek.

"And the other one?" Laffy answered, hair-tentacles coiling with tension as they pointed their pistol at the Doctor, finger on the trigger.

"Come on!" The Time Lord frowned, indignation in his voice and hands up in the air in defeat. Jack didn't miss the accusatory glance he threw him, but ignored it. "I just helped you! Jack, you tell them!"

"Laffy, lower your gun. He's not a danger for us." Jack grimaced when his captive shifted to bite him, sharp teeth sinking into his left arm, drawing blood. He let out a loud hiss but didn't let go.

"Speaking of danger," he continued breathily, as the alien was now attacking his forearm and aiming for his wrist. He had forgotten the things Kephlins could do with their very flexible bodies.

"Careful with them," he addressed his two other partners, Heln and Grant, who had already moved. The first took Jack's place, hair-tentacles coiling around the criminal to keep them still as the second tied them up. He winked at them before turning to Laffy, putting a hand on their gun, gently pushing it away from the Doctor. "It's okay. Don't worry about him, I'm taking care of that. You three, just deal with our fierce friend. The Congregation will want to have a word with High Priest Elin here about why he blew up a sanctuary and how he was about to bomb another one. I'm counting on you for that."

Laffy was silent but the green taint of their usual pale blue skin was a good indicator of their worry. Just like the fact they were nibbling their lips while glancing at the Doctor with suspicion. "You know each other?" They eventually asked after a while, bright golden eyes going from Jack to the Time Lord.

"Kind of—" The Doctor rubbed the back of his neck. He looked at Jack and corrected himself, "Jack is an old friend of mine. I'm the Doctor by the way, and you are?"

"Jack's team. I'm Laffy, and here's Heln. We're flock mates." Heln waved a hair-tentacle in greeting. "And the human's Grant."

The young man nodded at the Doctor, a big grin on his face. "Nice to meet ya, Jack's friend," he said with his thick Mercurian accent, all vowels prolonged. "I suppose ya've got much to catch up on."

"Indeed, yes. So, I'm borrowing Jack for now," the Doctor replied throwing Jack a pointed glance. The Captain raised an eyebrow at that, making the Time Lord scowl, much to his amusement. "Stop it. Now, let's go. Much catch up to do," he muttered while turning away, a hand on Jack's sleeve to urge him to follow.

"See ya later then, Jack."

Jack couldn't answer. He only nodded at the three of them before he went after the Doctor into the TARDIS, thinking about another team he had left to go after that same Doctor so many years ago. Not that—if he were to travel with him again—he would leave without saying goodbye: he wouldn't let them live through that peculiar kind of abandonment. He knew how that felt; he wasn't that much of an arse.

Or maybe he was, he told himself grimly when he stilled on the threshold, finally letting himself examine the Doctor. This Doctor wasn't the one with a companion he wouldn't fully acknowledge, because he was still grieving for Rose; the one who, in a very naive manner, had asked him to travel with him after calling Jack wrong and after that whole awful year that never was. Nor was he the one who had taken the feisty redhead, Donna, Jack reminded himself, that could keep the Doctor in check: she had been more an equal to him than Rose, Martha or himself before. Maybe because she had the fortune not to have romantic feelings for him.

No, this man was older and there was in his eyes the unmistakable shadow of someone who had lost everything. That one Jack knew well, for he had worn it far too long. The 456 debacle came to his mind, Ianto, then Miracle Day and its aftermath, Angelo, and in both cases, his need to get as far away from Earth as possible. This Doctor was the one who would show up to a much younger version of himself, to point him to sweet Alonso. That had been the last time he had seen him. And even at that moment, Jack didn't think he had looked as bad as he was now.

Still, he wouldn't ask the Time Lord about what had happened. He knew better than that. Even moreso when his successor had mentioned in passing how horrible the end of this regeneration had been. Jack could only agree now, looking at the gaunt face and dark rings under tired eyes that seemed too big. The man really could use some sleep—no matter what he said about superior Time Lord biology—and a good hug. Being hugged to sleep, Jack thought fondly, kind of disappointed it wasn't something he could do with this peculiar Doctor.

"Hello, beautiful," Jack said to the TARDIS, stroking a coral strut with affection as he watched the Time Lord throw his coat on the pilot seat and busy himself with the console. He was doing his best not to look at him, Jack noticed with amusement. He remembered the end of the universe itself, when he had met the wonderful Martha Jones and this version of the Doctor; how good it had felt to be reunited with him at last, how dreadful that had been to learn what the Doctor was thinking of him the times he dared look. And the fact that Jack couldn't do anything to change it.

If someone asked now if he would reverse his immortally given the opportunity, he would say no without hesitation. Because, even after years and years of inevitable and innumerable losses, he had grown to appreciate the good things he could accomplish wherever he went, like some human version of the Doctor.

The Doctor wouldn't engage the conversation anytime soon so Jack spoke, "I've got nothing against liquid, but this is getting really gross." He grimaced, passing his index finger over his cheek, then he rubbed the goo between his fingers.

The Doctor finally looked at him, examining his face. "Oh. Yeah. Right."

Jack reminded himself that this Doctor wasn't the one who had been more than happy to share a room with him. The other would probably find the idea repulsive. "Do you still have my old room?"

The Captain suppressed a gasp when he felt the nudge of the TARDIS in his mind, like tendrils poking him as easily as if he had no psychic barriers. With delight, he realised he could perceive a hint of the emotions the gorgeous Old Girl had. Nothing compared to the link he had developed with her future counterpart, but it was definitely there, thin threads the ship was exploring with curiosity.

The moment she brushed against the memories of another console room, metallic and nothing but shades of blue and grey, was when Jack became fully aware she was examining his recollections, searching for something. Jack couldn't tell what however, and she must have found it because she retreated to the faint satisfied hum in the back of his mind.

"Of course I h—" The Time Lord stilled, mouth hanging open in surprise. "What?" He frowned, looking at the console. "Come on! What did you do with Jack's room? Where did you hide it?" There was a light tremor in the ship's hum that seemed very much like a laugh.

"Conjugal problems, Doctor?" The Doctor scowled at Jack, who only made an amused smile. "Need help? I'm often told I'm good with women," he said, his right hand slowly retracing the branches of a sprout of coral. "And every other gender for that matter," he added with a wink.

"Stop it." Jack grinned: how the alien had followed the gesture with his eyes hadn't escaped him.

"That's not fu—" His face brightened. "Ah! There!" the Doctor eventually exclaimed victorious. "She just toyed a little with the layout. Although it's weird."

"What?"

"She didn't just hide your room. She completely deleted it and recreated it." The alien watched him carefully, his expression unreadable. "Did you do something to my TARDIS, Jack?"

"Absolutely not." Jack threw his hand up in the air when the Doctor squinted his eyes, a hand already in the pocket where the sonic screwdriver was. "Maybe it's a way of greeting me, new meeting between us, new room," he proposed, keeping his face still as he felt the ship pushing a little on their mental links. "So, where did she put it?"

"I'll show you," the Doctor replied then turned his back to him to get out of the control room, not waiting to see if Jack followed him.

Along the way, the Doctor spoke of everything and anything that was passing through that funny mind of his. Jack listened to his random babble, nodding and murmuring a response here and there, but not really answering. The other didn't notice, probably didn't care, the flow of his words fast and steady, as if he was just happy to have someone there to hear his voice.

When was the last time he had a companion he could talk to, Jack asked himself, even if the discussion was mostly one-sided. In fact, the Captain's attention was on the familiar layout of the TARDIS. After the anti-gravity shaft at the end of the corridor where Rose's and his respective rooms had been, the Doctor guided him through a flight of stairs that hadn't been in the TARDIS last time he was there.

"Layout reconfiguration," the Doctor grumbled as they passed in front of a swimming pool room and down another anti-gravity shaft. Truth to be told, after a turn on the left and the opened doors of a library, Jack realised he didn't need the Time Lord's guidance at all. He already knew the way to his room; the TARDIS had recreated to perfection that part of her future self's map, the only difference being her current interior design.

He stroke the wall fondly, concentrating on the hum of the ship to transmit her his gratitude, using thoughts and images in the way the Doctor had learnt him to do. Her answer was a pulse of bright light, while the tendrils of her consciousness bound themselves more into himself, making his headache a bit stronger. The joys of forging or reinforcing telepathic links, Jack thought. But at least that meant the TARDIS wasn't disturbed anymore by his wrongness and her welcome warmed his heart.

"And here is it!" The Doctor put a hand on the door controller, a protuberance on the wall that formed a greenish luminescent shell. When the panel slid to the side with a hiss, his face was lightened by the big grin of the explorer about to set feet in a new world. "Brand new room."

This was the room he had shared with the Time Lord with the bow tie and hat boxes in a pile one corner. He immediately spotted the greatcoat he used to wear, and that he had left on her future self, on the padded bench at the foot of their bed. The ceiling was the most interesting feature though, a reproduction of a nebulous space with circular Gallifreyan shimmering like constellations, providing the lightning. The circles' shape and colour were in flux, shifting every so often into new sentences.

The Time Lord walked to the bedside table. He picked up a Jammie Dodger from the plate resting on it and nibbled a bit before putting it back. After that he examined the bottle next to the food, containing a purple fiction mist, a part of the large Gallifreyan collection of Fairy tales from the Universe. One of the many books the Doctor used to read during the few hours of sleep Jack needed.

"Interesting," the Time Lord muttered while he stared above.

Jack didn't listen to the rest, taking advantage of the Doctor's inattention to cross the room and go straight to the bathroom. He let out a relieved sigh when he splashed his face with water. He washed himself then, musing about how he could help the Doctor when the latter would probably never acknowledge he needed help in the first place. And if there was something the Captain was sure of, it was that the TARDIS had brought her Time Lord to him because he could provide what the other needed right now. Good girl.

He smiled to his reflection to encourage himself and eventually went back to the room. The Doctor was now sitting on the bench, a red unknotted bow tie between his fingers.

"Didn't take you as a bow tie man." Jack shrugged. "So, tell me. Who are you, Jack? Last time I saw you, you were walking out of the TARDIS with Martha and Mickey. But you can't be him. And the TARDIS never has been such as ease with you, even before the Game Station. That without counting the layout reconfiguration and this whole room." He gestured at the air to illustrate his point. "Circular Gallifreyan, really? You're human, why would she put Gallifreyan in your room?"

Jack cocked an eyebrow in challenge, crossing his arms over his chest. It didn't take long for the Doctor to figure it out. After a few moments where he mmm'ed quite a lot, he eventually exclaimed, "Oooh!". The Time Lord studied him from head to toes, staying a little longer on Jack's face, like he was searching for a sign he had aged. "How old are you now?"

Jack shot him a charming smile. "So much older than when you last saw me. And looking as good as ever." He winked at him, chuckling when the Doctor rolled his eyes. Then he sat on the bench next to him, left shoulder against the Time Lord's right.

A comfortable silence fell, both men lost in their thoughts. Jack's eyes settled on the nebulous ceiling. The interlocked circles of Gallifreyan writing had shifted. When he focused his attention on them, retracing the thin lines of each individual circle and their components; each ring comprised a whole sentence formed by a conglomeration of concepts represented by the geometric figures in it.

Jack could remember the Time Lord's whispers against his skin when he thought the Captain was asleep—much less than the Doctor thought; the immortal mostly kept the habit because it felt right, human—Gallifreyan that the TARDIS would sometimes translate at whim. It could be anything from a single word to bouts of sentences that Jack made a point of memorising. The process wasn't easy: the TARDIS didn't use words, but feelings and senses she transmitted directly into his mind, which was often confusing and could be overwhelming because of her alienness.

Still, Jack was patient and determined, under the Old Girl's guidance and with time passing by, he had succeeded in learning a few things about Gallifreyan, nothing fancy but he suspected it was more than anyone living except the Time Lord.

The ceiling's current configuration showed a paragraph made of three sentences. The largest circle was a sky covered with stars and a big bright copper moon in the distance. In his guts, he felt the twisting need to reach for it. Its border hid part of the smallest one. It was a silhouette standing on the top of a skyscraper, looking at the red dawn shining through a dome on a city of spires, high and proud. Also, infinitely ancient, older than anything Jack knew. The Citadel of the Time Lords.

The last one was between the others, adjacent to the biggest and masking a little part of the tiniest, like a link between the two. It was Gallifrey again, a never-ending plain of red grass like the Doctor had once described. The golden light that shone on the scenery gave it an air of eerie majesty, as if it was coming from a fairy tale. There was nothing, no animals, no sounds, no fragrance. There was only a giant silver tree with flowers whose shape reminded Jack of round paper lanterns, thin red and golden petals shrouding little balls of white light.

The more he contemplated the vision, the more Jack felt the lump that was forming in his throat, growing heavier. He gulped with difficulty, eventually closed his eyes and rubbed his temples like it would chase his unease away. It didn't. Now, he could see the Gallifreyan paragraph and its three images, without being able to decipher what would give them sense, like the missing pieces to complete the puzzle.

The TARDIS tugged on their link, the same moment the Doctor broke the silence, snapping Jack back to reality. The Time Lord was staring at him, frowning. "Are you okay?"

"Post-resurrection headache. It can do that when my head is badly damaged when I died. It'll pass." The other rose an eyebrow but Jack shrugged. "I'm fine."

He seemed about to protest but finally shook his head. "So, tell me. How did you end up in Kephlinox?"

For one foolish moment, Jack wanted to tell the Doctor about his next incarnation; how the sly fox had made sure they would meet each other. He knew that it was stupid to do so though. There was only one thing he could do. He lied. A lie true enough for the Doctor not to question it. "I was travelling on the Shroud, a Mercurian trade frigate, hired as a merc for the trip to Kephlinox."

The Doctor's eyes flew to the gun harnessed to Jack's left thigh, his face showing nothing but the Time Lord's self-righteous special brand of disapproval. Jack ignored him and continued, "I met Grant there and we got along pretty well. When we arrived in Kephlinox, we decided to stay because of the planet's high crime rate and the government's willingness to pay people to do the job. So, we resigned and used the credits to rent a flat and go after bad guys, as usual. Met Laffy on a job, they shot me dead by mistake, but I got better." That had been quite funny in a way: they were after a human drug smuggler and Laffy had thought Jack was him. The misunderstanding had been cleared up very fast. "We decided to stick together. Heln just came with Laffy. And without knowing, I had a team of my own again. A pretty good one."

"Brilliant, I mean it. Saving the world with a team of your own, that's my Jack!"

Jack answered to the Time Lord's large grin—so much like his first Doctor with the Northern accent in that moment—by a wink. "I learnt from the best."

He chuckled. Jack decided to take advantage of the light-heartened mood to hug him tightly while patting his back. Much to the Captain's pleasure, thin but strong arms circled his chest and spiky hair tickled Jack's skin as the other pressed his head against his right shoulder. Although it was just a little bit weird after all this time—Jack was used to flailing limbs and that big chin of his resting in the crook of his neck—it felt right nonetheless. He really had missed the hugs. Well, that and all the rest—his next incarnation was even more tactile—but that wasn't the sort of thing this Doctor would like to know.

"It's good to see you, Doc."

"You too, Captain."

They stayed in that position for a long time, the quiet hum of the TARDIS filling the comfortable silence between the two of them. Jack's eyes went back to the ceiling, where the word journey was written, followed by a very subtle nudge of the ship that made his temples pulse.

"Do you still want to travel with me?" He winced when the Time Lord tensed at his question. Right, he reminded himself with a mental sigh. In the Doctor's timeline, the last time he had asked Jack, he had said no because he had a team to take care of and responsibilities. Just like now. "You've got a time machine and I'd fancy a little trip with you. Just like old times."

"'Just like old times', you say? That sounds lovely."

Jack could hear the smile in his voice and at that moment, he was certain it wouldn't be a single trip for him. There were chances he wouldn't see his team for a while—maybe never again—but that was okay. He knew how the Doctor was when on his own; how that ugly part of him, darker and drearier than in any other living being—except Jack himself—came out because there was nobody to stop him.

The Doctor was the reason he was on Kephlinox to begin with, his priority over everything else. He needed a companion and Jack would stay with him as long as necessary. Moreover, he had to make sure their shared future would happen. He'd hate to lose everything they had.

The other eventually stirred away, a spring in his step as he went to the door, turning to Jack with a contagious smile. "Come on, allons-y! Where do you want to go?"

"Random time and space location input. Didn't do that in a while. Could be anywhere, anywhen. I should do that more often." The Doctor passed his tongue over his lips, then grinned in a manic way, making his face wrinkle. He expectantly patted the door, urging Jack to put his coat fast and join him. "Right then, let's see what's outside!"

When they stepped outside, the bright light made Jack put a hand over his eyes. It took a few moments for his vision to adjust before he could lower his hand. They were in a large room with dark silver walls that reflected the numerous light balls hanging above their head, hence the luminosity. Squinting his eyes, the Captain could make out the midnight blue tubes that attached the lamps to plates of funny shapes. Those were of the same colour, expanding in the air in a chaotic but familiar fashion.

"Oh!" the Doctor exclaimed, earning Jack's attention. His eyebrows were all the way up and his mouth open in a comical but endearing expression that made the immortal grin. He suddenly turned to kiss his ship's door. "Oh you, what could I do without you?"

The moment the Time Lord's lips touched the wood, a jolt went through Jack. He muffled his gasp in the fabric of his coat, wishing that the other hadn't noticed his antics. Thoughts and emotions that definitely weren't his filled his mind, stronger than any form of telepathy he had ever experienced.

She's beeping loudly while driving herself and letting her thief thinks he's got control (won't expect that). She transported them to where she wants to land and he's bouncy like one of those strays of his, and she can feel his genuine happiness (always the best at her functions when he doesn't tamper with her). Had to delete rooms to redirect the energy to her engines to get here. The cooling system is turning at full power, its liquid struggling to keep the circuitry from overheating (will need much rest). Her Time Lord's superior auxiliary ends are on the Temporal Anomaly's matrix case (not alone—now—anymore?).

It was a little too much for Jack, who staggered a few steps until his back was on the ship's door, feeling dizzy. He closed his eyes, focused all his attention on pushing the alien consciousness into a part of his mind where it wouldn't overwhelm his own thoughts. The tendrils—much larger now—pulsed under his touch, more glimpses of the TARDIS' thoughts bleeding through them, but he somehow managed to tune them down to a hum with mental barriers. A temporary solution—he could still feel the heavy press of the TARDIS against him—but it would do for now. Bless the training the Time Agency dispensed to its recruits.

The Captain crossed his arms over his chest, opening his eyes to see that the Doctor was now touching one of the long tubes suspended from the metal-like thing. He bit back an inappropriate comment when the other ran his fingers along the shape, softy humming. That was when he noticed it, a soft, ethereal note he wouldn't be able to hear over the din the TARDIS had made in his head.

"Do you hear that?" Jack eventually asked when he had waited enough to be sure he wasn't imagining it. "The flute-like sound. It's not loud but it's definitely there, like a background noise," he explained when the Doctor looked at him.

The Time Lord grinned. "I should have known you would hear it. Come, we're standing far too close." He made them walk to the closest wall, some thirty-something feet away. "Now, look at it."

Jack scanned the area, a circular room with the TARDIS in its centre. Now that he could see the whole scenery, the arrangement made much more sense. Whatever it was, it was shaped like a mechanical tree. Its branches and foliage made of metallic plates and the luminous balls its fruits. The ship was nestled in the trunk, half-buried in a heap of dark blue-grey tubes that formed a case around her. The roots—thick black conduits covered with glowing shards of white—covered the floor, some parts merging with the ground while other formed knots.

"Wow! Is that what I think it is?"

"Yeah. This is living metal, tree type. This is so rare and precious you'd have to sell entire systems only to buy one of the fruits. I've got one in the TARDIS."

"Of course you have," Jack replied with a cheeky smile that made the other shake his head.

"No, really. I'm not lying. The TARDIS' architectural reconfiguration system is made of one of these." He rubbed his neck. "Well, much smaller than this one. But you were talking about the noise." He took a deep breath. There was awe in his voice as he explained, "It's the sound of its breathing as it grows. One could say, the song of its life. It's more psychic than physical though, transmitting on a low telepathic field, so unless they have some psychic aptitudes, humans can't perceive it."

Jack chose not to comment on that. He had learnt since long how limited human senses could be, even more when compared to Time Lords'. The Doctor, the smug bastard he was, would never cease to remind his companions of that, in a way or another.

"They're beautiful," he eventually said after a while. "The song as well as the tree itself."

He crouched, reaching out to touch a root. As expected, the metal was cold under his fingers. He could feel a faint pulse running through it though. Her heart exploded, she's dying and it's so so hot (will have to shield the Time Child). And the Eye of Harmony has gone out of its stasis, destroying her every insides. It hurts. The engines failed. Pain flooded every bit of his body the same way it had when he had been blown up. Jack jerked his hand back. As soon as the contact broke, the sensation vanished, like it had never happened. Maybe the living metal was amplifying the mental link between the TARDIS and him, he thought as he stood up. Not touching the living metal then.

Jack caught the Doctor staring at him, a frown on his face. Unsurprisingly, he looked away when Jack met his eyes, and cocked a charming eyebrow at him with a cocky smile. "Now, Doctor, the question is: where are we?"

The Doctor didn't answer. During a while, he fidgeted as he carefully watched the area, then took deep breaths and even licked the wall only to shake his head. "The thing is," he sighed loudly. "I don't know."

He grimaced, as if he just had been defeated. Which was definitely weird. Even with his extensive knowledge of the universe, it wouldn't be the first time the Time Lord ended up in a place he didn't know. What was different about this one?

When Jack opened his mouth to ask about what was troubling him, the Time Lord was back to his usual self, a manic smile on his face. "Well, Jack, let's go find out!" He put his hand on the silver panel on the hexagonal door's right side.

It dematerialised. On pure instinct, Jack's right hand flew to his gun holder, ready to neutralise the alien that was standing there if necessary. He never finished his motion though, the Doctor had grabbed his wrist before, putting it away harshly.

"Don't. Do. That," he whispered through gritted teeth, without releasing his grip. Then, he smiled at the stranger. "Hello, I'm the Doctor."

If Jack was sure of one thing when looking at the alien, it was that he had never encountered that species before. If he had already seen his share of white hair and pure black eyes, the skin was a new one. It looked like it was made of space: a deep black covered with nebulous blots of purple and blue. Gorgeous, the Captain thought, wondering what the texture would be like under his palm.

The alien answered with a few words, and much more gesturing in the air, that neither the TARDIS nor his own translating chip deciphered. And, even more surprising, the Doctor was caught aghast too, eyes opened wide and making an "o" with his mouth. He slowly turned to Jack, gesturing to the other with his head, like the Captain could help him. Jack made a grotesque grimace, half-amused and half-worried by the situation. Well, at least the stranger didn't seem hostile and their expression—were they human—would have been affable.

Jack decided to try the Standard Galactic, which most spacefaring species were expected to speak, or at least have some notion of. If this was a spacefaring species and a time when Standard Galactic had been invented, of course. "Hello," he said with a big grin. "I'm Captain Jack Harkness." He pointed at himself with his free hand to illustrate his words, then at the Time Lord when he continued, "This is the Doctor. Can you understand me?"

The alien's round—as in ball-shaped—eyes fell on him. When they blinked a few time, Jack noticed a second eyelid, an inner lid closing from the left to the right. He didn't know if that was just a normal blink or a sign of acknowledgement, but he decided to go with the later.

"Where are we?" he asked. The sounds the alien made were still nothing more than gibberish to the Captain, but the Doctor made a pleased exclamation, followed by a puzzled look. "You can understand him now?"

"Yes. No. Just a little. We're in the Mutter's Spiral, Kemel Tau system, so the centre of the Galaxy. Well, as close as one could be without being sucked into the galaxy's supermassive black hole. And if I'm not mistaken, which I'm not by the way, this planet is called Silthainell, and that's a Silthain."

"I'm not sure I'm following you, Doc."

"Gallifreyan," the Doctor replied like that was evident. "Mutter's Spiral is the Time Lord's name for the Milky Way. Kemel Tau is my people's designation for the system humans will call the Silver Crescent, when you discover it. I don't think it happens before the New Earth Empire. 5.5/Apple/26. The end of the world—I mean Earth—I went there with Rose, lovely times," he added with a nostalgic expression.

Jack sighed. "So, they're speaking Gallifreyan and you can't understand it?" He rolled his eyes like Jack was being thick on purpose. Jack rose an eyebrow. "Explain, because right now, you're not making any sense."

"It's not Gallifreyan per se. But our friend here did use the Time Lords' designation for our location. In Old High Gallifreyan, which I fortunately happen to know and believe me, it was extremely rare in my time. From that, it was easy to pinpoint the planet and species."

"Why would they use Old High Gallifreyan? You make it sound like it's a dead language, much like Latin."

"It is. It was already nearly extinct when I was a child. The Silver Crescent system is one of Kasterborous' neighbours. Silthainell was a Gallifreyan colony—a conquered world—back in the Dark Time, when Racnoss used to roam the over the galaxy." He made a face at that. "But that's history and by the time I was around, Silthainell was just another free world, just like good old Earth." His tone was much more light-heartened when he spoke, a smile that made his cheeks dimple on his face. He was literally trembling with excitement when he continued, "Oh— Oh— I see, that's why. Jack, the key is here. As a Gallifreyan colony, speaking Gallifreyan was compulsory. And that era's contemporary Gallifreyan was Old High Gallifreyan—"

"—And some linguistic concepts must have stayed in their current language," Jack finished for him.

"Yes!"

He finally let Jack's wrist go to put his hand on the Captain's shoulder, beaming. And they laughed like they hadn't before during that Doctor's regeneration. The compulsive kind, where one wasn't able to stop and ended up aching like hell because it was hard to just breathe. It felt great, as if some of that heavy burden weighing on the both of them had been lifted. The heaviness of all the words they—mostly the Doctor—shouldn't have spoken, all secrets they—to be fair, that part was on Jack—couldn't tell. A glimpse of the true companionship they had shared and would share, should share in the present time, whatever their past interactions had been.

Even if Jack mostly remembered the harsh words, and they had made quite an impact, just like the Year That Never Was as well as the Stolen Earth. Even then, he had no difficulty remembering how amazing it had been to see him again. And piloting the TARDIS with the three Doctors and their companions? So fucking great. Moreover, he was there to snap the Doctor out of his so-typical spiral of self-deprecation and out of his loneliness. Laughing was definitely a step in the good direction.

"Unfortunately," the Doctor began when they had cooled down. "It doesn't solve the problem of translating the Silthain's language. But well, it helps. A little."

Jack sent an apologetic smile to the alien. "Sorry about that. That was quite rude of us. Never exclude the gorgeous ones, that should be a proverb. So, what's your name?"

The Silthain, in an imitation of Jack's earlier demonstration pointed successively at the Doctor and the Captain, while it repeated their names, stumbling on the T and D consonants. It pronounced Jack perfectly and the latter addressed them a charming smile.

Then, the alien made the same gesture at itself. Similar to when they had done so earlier, when the Silthain spoke a single word, there was flailing of limbs involved, which was very reminiscent of a certain Time Lord. Jack wondered if it was a trait of the whole species or if it was characteristic of that individual. Still, he didn't ponder long at the thought because it came to his attention the word, the Silthain's name had been clear, unlike the unintelligible sounds he had heard until now.

"Lunaska."

The TARDIS translated it into the sound of a rainfall hitting the ground, the petrichor it created and the sensation of the drop splashing against the skin and clothes, soaking them in no time. That was quite a lot of things for a single word, but somehow, Jack had no problem seeing how that would fit into the circular Gallifreyan writing system, a single, albeit large, circle would be sufficient because rain was the subject, the most important part in all three images. A concept. It would surround three separate rings with geometrical components of their own, each of which described one aspect of the rain. Its sound and smell would be of equal size, much smaller and simpler than its touch. After all, with the notion of drenched clothing and all the things that came from it, that last one was more complex. Thus, it would require more symbols.

Next to him, the Doctor motioned at the corridor behind Lunaska. "So, Lunaska, and that's a pretty good name by the way. In very old-fashioned Time-Lordy way. Why don't you show us around? I wonder what other wonders a place with a living metal tree holds. Lead the way."

While they walked in the corridors, Jack noticed quite a few things. There seemed to be quite a lot of Silthains and not enough noise for their number. They didn't speak much, but always made lots of movements with their arms and hands. Their hair colours were varied but always light and bright, like diluted watercolours. The nebula pattern on their skin differed in shape and shade. Some had only spots here and there while others seemed almost entirely covered in it.

Not least, the ceiling was covered in blue honeycomb-shaped panels that not only provided the light, but also were anti-grav. And people were walking on it, going in the opposite direction. Next to him, the Doctor was unusually calm, watching gravely, his hands twitching. Their host was walking ahead of them and navigated through the crowd easily: everyone went out of their way to let it pass, even when they had their back to it and couldn't have seen it coming.

"Lunaska seems quite important," he muttered to the Doctor.

"She is. See the writing on her jacket's sleeves?" It was a mix of Greek letters and mathematical symbols, utterly incomprehensible to Jack. When he looked back at the Time Lord, the later shrugged. "Not my fault if you can't read it. It means she's one of the highest authorities around here."

"If you say so. How do you know it's a she?"

Jack himself was utterly incapable of differentiating between the male and female of the species: they all seemed to be flat-chested with low legs bowed backwards and a tail coiled against the small of their back. All of which was so very alluring and Jack couldn't help musing what sort of wonders they could do with that anatomy. Although he had been with a Jezark once, he had never been with someone who had a forked tail.

"Silthains have no concept of gender, but Time Lords always used the feminine form to speak of them."

They emerged into a gigantic round room with concave walls that formed a dome. Thanks to the transparent walls, Jack could see they were standing above the spires of countless buildings linked to each other by a maze of bridges and tubes. The sky was made of silvery clouds streaked with black and violet veins. Although it was raining hard, somehow the view of the city around wasn't altered a little bit.

The area was filled with Silthains, sitting at consoles, working with three-dimensional projections and holo-screens. They were dispersed throughout the whole area, the ground as well as the walls and the ceiling; anti-grav really did wonders. Jack couldn't help but wonder how advanced the Silthains really were, if they were spacefaring—and they seemed to have the technology to do so—and why the hell Lunaska seemed to understand Standard Galactic while not speaking it. Unless she was just making fun of them.

As they made their way to the middle of the room, a Silthain got up and ran to Lunaska, putting a hand on her shoulder. The two of them spoke for a few moments. Well, truth to be told, it was mostly gesturing around and occasionally slipping a few words in-between. The Silthain showed a few graphics to Lunaska, who answered by crossing her right index and middle finger and flexing them. She did it again when the other pointed the Doctor and him.

Jack's eyes followed the cluster of light green spots occupying her cheeks and nose, then addressed her a wink and an alluring smile. She blinked. The Captain didn't miss how her fingers tightened into a fist, even if she soon returned to her place. At least, it seemed like some of them wouldn't be immune to his charm. His grin grew when he noticed the Time Lord rolling his eyes next to him, an annoyed expression on his face.

"You know," Jack began, nothing but smug. "One day, I might begin to think you're jealous with your stop-flirting-around-me policy. And I didn't even say hello yet."

"Don't be ridiculous," the Doctor replied with a pout that made the Captain chuckle. "Like you need to say hello to flirt, you're the word's personification."

"I'm flattered. Such a compliment."

"Shut up. Come on, we've better things to do than blabbering," he added too fast for Jack to tell him how curious he was about how the Time Lord intended to make him shut up. He took Jack's wrist and urged him to resume walking. "Let's go to Lunaska."

Lunaska hadn't waited for them; she was now in the middle of the room, occupied by a large round console. She moved her hands, palms facing downwards, over it, then fisted them while saying a few words. The hum of the TARDIS went higher and, for a second, Jack's body seemed to vibrate. The Doctor's grip on him went harder, his fingers stiff.

When they were at her side—the Doctor hadn't let him go yet, Jack noted with a bit of delight—Lunaska was opening her hands. A white haze appeared above the console, lines of alien symbols gravitating around it like satellites around a planet. The Silthain took their free hands, and before they could protest, she put them into the mist. Her skin was warm, smoother than anything he had ever touched, almost slippery, of the sort that felt so very amaz—

An electric shock went through Jack's body, bright sharp pain that made him loudly gasp. He jerked his hand away, watching white strands of mist particles sort of absorbing into his skin. Next to him, the Doctor's yelp informed him the same had happened with him.

More than annoyed, Jack turned to their host, hand resting on the holster of his gun. "What the hell? What's that?"

"Sorry for that." Lunaska didn't sound sorry at all and that was weird because Jack hadn't been able to decipher anything of what she had said until now, much less in what kind of tone. "The connexion process can be a little painful." The way she said it, rubbing her digits together, made Jack think whatever the connexion process was, it was always painful. And, why the hell was he able to understand her now?

"Connexion process— Connexion process." The Doctor's eyes lit up as he continued. "That's it! I was asking myself why you made so many gestures when you speak so little words. You're telepaths, aren't you? And you just connected us to your telepathic field, brilliant."

"Silthains are telepathic, yes, but you're wrong, you're not connected to us, just to me. I need your help, Time Lord."

"What for?"

Lunaska's words were lost in the shrieking wail that filled the air. Jack felt it though the bones, a scorching ache that burnt from the inside. Shaking his wrist out of the Doctor's fingers, he put both hands on his temple like it would soothe the pain. Fortunately, it lasted less than a moment. He looked at his left, where the Time Lord stood, eyes closed and frowning.

"That. Something is messing with my ship a—"

"Wait, what? We're on a ship?" Jack interrupted her, eyes on the outside, following the tracks of raindrops as they fell on the walls. Below, he could see the neon publicity screen floating around the roads and buildings, drones and air cars circulating in large arteries.

He went back to Lunaska's face, who had raised a hand in the air. She snapped. The walls gradually darkened into a silver hue, much more similar to the metal living tree room, much more spaceship-like. Then the white mist was back. That time, it filled the room, shaping itself into a three-dimensional map of the Milky Way.

"You're aboard the Solrem, mothership of the Fleet. And we are here," it zoomed on the Horsehead Nebula, at the fringe of a small stellar system—no planets, just an asteroid belt and what seemed like a rather large space station—that Jack never had been to. "Horsehead Nebula, Helkan System."

"That's pretty far from home," the Doctor commented. "Are you on a mission or something? What's the Fleet? Never heard of the Fleet."

"You didn't? Really?" Lunaska sounded disgruntled, annoyed too. She made a dismissive gesture with a hand. "No, I shouldn't be surprised. The Fleet is home. The Silver Crescent Fleet, our largest fleet, roaming in the galaxy like vagabonds. That's what I was saying earlier."

The Doctor's face dropped. "You've lost your home world," he muttered. "What happened?"

"War happened. You happened, Time Lord, and the Daleks happened. We not only lost Silthainell." Her voice was shaking and in a very human way, she passed a hand on her face, sighing. "We lost the entire system to the Time War. Silthainell, Thesla and Joask, all gone now. Collateral damages."

"I'm so, so so—"

"Don't. It's not okay and there's nothing much you can do about that, can you?" The Time Lord shook his head in defeat. Jack put a hand on his shoulder in support. "But I'm just grateful we're alive. At least the Silthains aren't on the verge of extinction." She dismissed the map. "Anyway, I've got much more important matters on my hands right now. As I said before Jack cut me off, something is messing with my ship."

"The wails, that's the ship. The Solrem, that's it? So, the two of you are connected, hence the fact that we couldn't hear it before. Don't worry, big guy," he put a hand on the console, gently stroking it like he did with the TARDIS. "We're here to help. The TARDIS, she must have heard you and made us come here to help you," he said with a reassuring tone. "What's the extent of the damage?"

"At first, it was just some flickering of lights and cold water at times. Very mundane things that sometimes happen onboard. Power losses, tiny power losses that grew up so slowly I only noticed something was wrong when the Solrem began suppressing a few useless rooms to redirect the power into security scan programs. That showed nothing."

She displayed a blue map of the ship. There were ten decks and countless rooms. It was larger than any spacecraft Jack had ever been in; much more like a city than the average spaceship, except for the TARDIS and Jack was beginning to think the Solrem was much more similar to the latter than to the Lambda spaceship. Sentience, telepathic link with the commanding officer, architectural reconfiguration. He bet it was also bigger on the inside.

"There used to be much more. And now, he's beginning to delete rooms we actually use."

As she said that, the screen flickered and on the far left end, first deck, a room disappeared. The people who were in it—green points on the map, moving all over the ship—were transported into another room on the sixth deck.

"What's the power for now?"

"Basic functions. I made the Fleet stop at the nearest space station until we sort out what the problem is. I can't take the risk of flying when I don't know when he'll stop going. It's like he's terribly sick and trying to fight the disease but it doesn't work. And I can feel every moment of it."

The Doctor passed a hand through his hair, sighing loudly while examining the map. Jack could almost see the wheels turning in his head. Not that himself had a solution to offer right now. Sentient ship diseases weren't something he had ever dealt with before. The TARDIS was mysterious at best when she was in her normal state, he really didn't want to have to deal with her if she were sick.

"What about the other ships? Are they also sentient?" he eventually asked after a while.

"Yes. All of them. So far, no signs of the disease in the other ships, that's the positive point. Nonetheless, if we don't find a solution, we're in deep shit. Losing the Solrem would be dreadful."

"Well, he's the mothership," Jack retorted. "But—"

"Imagine a massive horde. Thousands of animals following a leader. A leader who's linked to every other member, source of the telepathic field that links them together. He's responsible for the cohesion of whole group. Without him, there'll be chaos amongst the ships themselves."

"Hive mind. If the leader falls, so does the horde. That's some pretty advanced technology you've got here. Very similar to TARDISes. Can they travel in time?" Lunaska shook her hands. "Good. So many ships jumping into the Time Vortex at once would be disastrous. The pressure exerted on the fabric of reality would be so intense it would literally be torn apart. Never ever use time travel."

"Back to the subject, Time Lord. Have you ever encountered that kind of disease with your ship?"

"Never. I suppose you already checked everywhere?"

"Our engineers already checked the drive cores, rotors and reactors. The ARS, as you could see, is also in good shape. From a mechanical point of view, there's nothing wrong with them. I al—"

The ship wailed. Jack and the Doctor put their hands to their ears, like that would stop the sound. Pain flooded him, stronger than before. Dizzy, Jack fell on his knees, half-spread over the console, gritting his teeth. Breathe, he reminded himself as his body jolted, another psychic wave passing through him. He shut his eyes, feeling so weak and sick. His stomach contracted, threatening to send his dinner back to where it had come from.

Around him, he heard worried exclamations and rushed footsteps, groans and ushered blabbering, making his head hurt even more than the ship's constant screaming. On the top of that, the TARDIS' pressure on the shields he had built was growing insistent.

The Not-Sisters-But-Almost scream and cry and speak all at once (they're only children, even younger than her Doctor when she stole him), the minds of a whole species that turned for her guidance while their Old Brother is in pain. And his agony is shared. The Not-Sisters-But-Almost are partly shielded by the Old Brother, but he can't do the same with that Nebula Skin symbiote. If the Nebula Skin was suffering, so were her thief and his Temporal Anomaly. It will be so bad (need to do something, she hates when her charges are hurting so much the echoes of their pain make her circuitry tickle in a very not-enjoyable way). She feels a poke at the edge of her consciousness.

Jack jerked into a sitting position, forehead crashing against a hard surface. It moaned, letting out a loud outraged, "Ouch."

"Sorry," the Captain muttered, grimacing. That must have been painful and the Doctor gently palmed his nose with one hand, grimacing at each touch, the other resting on Jack's temple, its warmth somehow soothing his throbbing headache. "What happened?"

Jack didn't remember lying down at any point. Moreover, they weren't in the same room anymore. Except for Lunaska, sitting not far away, the Silthains and their control room had disappeared. There was no wall, no ceiling, no ground, either, like they had been put in space. Except that space was one, black and without a horizon of shifting colours, and two, soundless and not some sort of discord of three superimposed harmonies. Positive point: they weren't in space and even if the atmosphere was oppressive, at least he wouldn't die from asphyxia. He had once, again and again until a cargo ship fetched his body. He wasn't keen on experiencing that again.

"Mindscape," Lunaska answered, tapping an index to her forehead. "In fact, it might be more precise to say mindscapes since you're also part of the plane. It's the heart of the Solrem. He transported us here, with some help from your ship, Time Lord."

"You can hear her?" Jack asked, much less surprised than what he should have been.

"Of course I can hear her. Our ships and their pilots share a symbiotic relationship. I'm part of the Solrem as much as he's part of me. I could hear his TARDIS the moment she answered the Fleet's calls for help. Even more when she materialised into the ARS room."

"And that's why the other Silthains didn't seem affected at all," the Doctor muttered to himself. "What happened to our bodies?"

"Don't worry, my peers are taking care of that." She closed her eyes. "They are moving us to the closest medbay. They'll keep an eye on us while we're here. Now, moving on to more important matters. If our ships' danger is here, the culprit must also be here, somewhere."

"I really wish I had my sonic screwdriver right now," the Doctor grumbled as he got up and offered a hand to Jack to help him get up. The Captain answered with a smile, then took it.

Much to his surprise, the other didn't let him go and Jack remembered fondly of all the times they had run hand in hand, with Rose when the Doctor hadn't any hair to grip as well as with Clara, when the Doctor had so much hair he somehow ended up gripping even when he didn't intend to.

"Blimey, I almost can hear you thinking, Captain." The Time Lord rolled his eyes. "Stop it."

"Don't you like it?"

"Not the time," he replied, turning to Lunaska. He offered her his free hand. "Come on, Lunaska, let's find the thing that's making the Solrem suffer and deal with it."

"Sounds like a good plan," she said with the ghost of a smile, grasping it tightly.

"I really wish I had a gun right now," Jack yelled at the top of his lungs to cover the sounds the Weevils made, running in a perfect replica of this Doctor's TARDIS' corridors.

"Mindscape, Jack. Think hard of one and it should materialise," Lunaska answered from the front of the line they formed. The Doctor was between them, still holding their hands even if it made it a little awkward for him to run. "What the fuck are these things?"

The Doctor's grip went tighter, almost painful. The unspoken message was clear and Jack rolled his eyes, even if the other couldn't see him. "It shows you don't have them ready to jump on your ass. Try being a little more understanding, I'll be the first to go down if they catch up." His next words were for Lunaska. "Weevils. Can eat anything but have a large preference for meat. Right now, that's the most important."

As they took a turn to the right, Jack wished very hard for a gun. Nothing too big, it would be too cumbersome and impossible to use with only a free hand. A heavy pistol could do the trick though, with a semi-automatic large caliber. Not really light but it was powerful and it wouldn't dislocate his shoulders because of the recoil. Instantly, a reassuring weight settled in his right hand.

Jack turned back and emptied the whole magazine on the group, watching six of them fall on the ground with a thump, not without satisfaction. He really hadn't enjoyed the feeling of fangs sinking into his skin earlier; the first had appeared when they had been passing through a transparent bridge—coming from Lunaska's memories of her home world—rainfall soaking them in no time and reducing the visibility. It was too late when he had seen them and he had experienced that pain was unsurprisingly very real in the mindscape. No surprise there, but displeasing nonetheless.

"Don't worry, Doctor. They aren't dead, these are just stun bullets," he said before the Time Lord could make any comment. His weapon ejected the used munitions and he willed some news into it. "Not that they're alive in the first place."

The Time Lord snorted. "Exactly, what's the point of trying to get rid of it when they'll just pop up again. That's just rubbish," he added in that condescendant tone of his.

"Really makes me feel better though. That's good enough for me."

The Doctor's answer was cut by Lunaska saying there was a door ahead, and an earthquake that made them hit the wall to their left. Jack let out a groan. There was a small silence between the three of them, during which he fired at the Weevils to keep them at bay.

"Jack, Time Lord? The door's definitely not from me. I don't even know that language, some circle-thingy with geometrical shapes in it."

"I'm taking care of that, easy-peasy."

Fire. There was no indication something had changed. Eject magazine. The Doctor let out a few words in Gallifreyan that sounded a lot like curses. Will new munitions into existence. "Of course it wouldn't be that easy. Whatever it is, it's not bad. Both of you, think of bananas," he eventually said. Jack let out an exclamation of disbelief and confusion. Was he really serious? "Password. It won't open without it."

"Bananas?"

"Think of an Earth fruit, bright yellow crescent-shaped fruit, very sweet and very tasty. They're great, you definitely should taste it one day, don't forget to peel the skin though." Jack heard the door hiss and he shot haphazardly into the Weevils band. If the Doctor could stop rambling and move now, that would be good. "And if you don't want to, there's a lot of recipes feat—"

"Doctor!" Jack nudged his flank hard with an elbow. The other let out an unhappy yelp but at least he advanced and Jack could finally pass through the door. It slid back into place after him. His ears tingled: the three-toned cacophony in the back of his mind grew to the point of real discomfort, but it was soon subdued. "You know, the more we go, the more messed up it's becoming and that," Jack commented as he was taking what he was seeing, "is beyond messed up."

They were back into the Solrem's control room—sort of. The sides were filled with ladders and platforms, glass walls separated the space in smaller areas. Pillars of coral struts grew in a chaotic fashion all around. The light was provided by the pairs of roundels running around the superior part of the wall, oranges bulbs circled by a glowing electric blue line. The ceiling was similar to Jack's room on the TARDIS, shifting circular Gallifreyan: the names of the Doctor's companions. Even if he didn't recognise all of them, the TARDIS was showing him their images.

The Doctor's desktops and Torchwood hub had literally been forced into the Solrem's control room, producing a very weird place the three of them had or were calling home in one way or another. A creepy sort of weird, to see all the elements placed at random locations, some of them changing their appearances as if they couldn't decide what they were.

However, the worst was in the middle of the room, hovering over the console. A humanoid clusterfuck of things that should have never been put together. The skin alone was impressive with the stars covering its brown hue. With disbelief, he examined the long leather jacket that opened on a pink shirt and dark pin-striped waistcoat. The lower part was a long white gown that hid its feet.

"No, really, what the fuck is that? Look at its face," Lunaska muttered.

"Hello," it giggled, its voice a chorus of familiar voices. "I hope you like it, 'cause I did my best."

Jack's eyes went up, noticing red the bow tie around its neck. Oh God. If he had found the clothes disturbing, the face was on a whole other level. Middle-length red hair framed a very angular face, with pure black Silthain-like eyes. The nose was big and it had a white beard. Also, it was grinning, tongue flashing through its teeth in an expression that shouldn't be there.

Next to him, the Doctor was aghast, staring at it from head to toes. His mouth opened and closed a few times, until it settled into a grotesque grimace. "You really shouldn't have tried that hard," he eventually said with annoyance, before turning to Jack. "What do you think, Jack? You didn't say hello, did you? Don't you like it?"

"More like a bit too much of things I like, kind of an overdose," he replied, forcing himself to look at the creature's eyes and not anywhere else.

"Well, it's so complicated when you've got so many choices to pick. That's the problem, sirs and ma'am, there're so many people in these funny heads of yours. Couldn't settle on a single one. And you're three, it'd be no fun if only one of you could recognise me. Oh. By the way, you can call me Companions, plural form," it winked at them. "Nice to see you home, Spaceman."

The Doctor went tense at the nickname and Jack squeezed his hand in support. "Do I want to know who you really are?" The Captain asked, making no effort to hide his disgust.

"I'm Companions, a multitude." It made a childish grin. "From Limbo."

"Like it wasn't bad enough," Jack and the Doctor grumbled at the same moment.

"How bad it is?" Lunaska was blinking in a rapid succession, probably evaluating the situation.

"Very. That's a member of the Trickster's Brigade, an entity devoted to bring chaos in the universe. Met him not so long ago, because of him, I had to prevent a dear friend's marriage. Mind you, it was to save the universe. That one is an interesting fellow, but really not the sort you want to notice you. Anyway, Like you explained earlier, Lunaska, if the Solrem isn't there, the Fleet can't function. The largest gathering of ships in the Milky Way, lost and mad with grief. Just imagine the chaos."

The Silthain made a dismissive gesture with her free hand. "I don't have to imagine it, I'm feeling it growing, just right here and there," she put the Time Lord's palm on her chest, and an index finger to her forehead. "Remember?" Her tone made it clear she found the Doctor's comment plain stupid.

"And I bet it'll be fantastic!" The Trickster's agent said in a perfect imitation of the Doctor.

"Stop." The latter scowled, fully irritated now. Not that Jack didn't understand the feeling; that was just disgusting. He wondered what would happen if he just shot the insufferable mongrel. Probably nothing but at least, he would feel a little better.

"You can't stop me. The Solrem is home to me and I'm very comfy here, I won't go. But you can stay, I like you. You've got so many memories to play with. Oooh, I wonder what kind of games I could create. Playing cat and mouse was pretty fun, and you ran quite a lot. I know you like to run. I've seen it, you love to run. May—"

"Get out of my ship's mind, you little fucker!" Lunaska had crossed her hands over her chest, tightly clenched and shaking. For that matter, her whole body was quivering with tension.

"What are you going to do? Will me away?" Then it turned to the Doctor with a smug smile. "Talk me to death?" Next was Jack. "Or maybe shoot me?"

As much as the immortal wanted to deny it, the Trickster's agent had a good point. Right now, he couldn't see a way to get rid of it. It wasn't like they were in a material plane where they could just kill it, which was a shame because the temptation was great, even if the Doctor would disapprove.

"Stop that nonsense, Companions, please stop it. You can't kill the Solrem. He's a living being, like you and me. And there's millions of Silthains living in the Fleet. That's double genocide. Think about it. Are you really willing to commit that level of atrocity? Trust me, that's not the kind of things you want to live with. It will stay with you, haunt you for the rest of your life."

The ship shrieked in echo to the Doctor's words. It was the one of the saddest sounds Jack had ever heard, the plea of a dying beast, filled with affliction and sorrow. Lunaska put a hand on her face, masking her expression. Her forked tail wasn't coiled anymore, whipping the air behind her. She let out a distressed high-pitched noise.

Next to him, the Time Lord was as still as a statue, his face blank and dark eyes staring at the Trickster's agent without flinching. That was the expression when his patience was about to run out, the face of a man ready to do terrible things.

"You really should listen to him," Jack warned the Companions although he knew very well where the events were heading. "You really don't want to fight against him. No matter the enemy, he always win. You know it, you can see it in our heads. For your own sake, just stop. Leave this ship alone and go back to your master."

"I'm a herald of my master's will, a bringer of chaos. My master is my god."

The Trickster's agent shifted its form into the Angelo Jack had been with, dark slicked back hair and a large grin, eyes sparkling at the thought of travelling with him. Angelo that had dedicated his life to finding a way to be with Jack forever. Angelo who had died in his arm.

"Just like you were for this one. Oh dear, precious, Angelo Colasanto, giving up his life just to be with you even after you abandoned him and ran away. And still, he died loving you. Sounds familiar, right? But it doesn't even end there."

Next was Ianto, looking at him with that satisfied smile he made when Jack was drinking the coffee he had made for him. Ianto who had supported him in more ways than he thought, then died in his arms.

"No, there was young sweet Ianto, your so faithful companion who still followed you even when he questioned you, or when he feared you. Died for you, twice," the bastard continued, taking its original form. Jack forced himself not to look away. The Doctor gently squeezed his hand. "Doesn't the pattern remind you of something? The precious Doctor you love so much that you spend centuries running after him, knowing how wrong he considers you. He doesn't even have to ask and you come running back to him, dying for him again and again like a faithful believer sacrificing himself to his beloved and cruel god."

"Shut up."

"Now, Captain Jack Harkness, tell me why I would leave this ship alone and go back to my master when I'm here merely for him, just like you. We're not so different, aren't we?"

"Jack doesn't try committing genocide for the Doctor," Lunaska replied, hands over her chest.

The Trickster's agent burst out laughing. "He doesn't need to. The Doctor is already a master in that domain, 'for the sake of all creation' notwithstanding. But you don't need me to remind you of that, do you?" it cooed.

The Silthain opened her mouth but no words came out of it. Then she shook her hands and tried hard not to meet Jack's eyes. Not that he could hold it against her; as much as he wished it was, the Trickster's agent wasn't wrong.

It waited a little while, then shifted its attention to the Doctor when neither spoke. The Time Lord's expression hadn't shifted a little bit, but now, Jack could feel the rage neatly concealed by his stillness, only waiting the moment to lash out. That would not end well. No, that couldn't end well, Jack corrected himself.

"And you, Doctor, such a wonder you are. You're brilliant you know that? Have you any idea of how much chaos you leave in your wake? The Daleks couldn't have chosen a better name when they branded you the Oncoming Storm. I'm so tempted to let you walk away just for that, you know?"

"Are you finished now? No, don't answer that," he said to the Trickster's agent when it was about to talk again. "You see, that's your problem. You just talk and talk and talk and talk. You don't stop, you won't just stop. It's like a broken record. And you know the problem with broken records?" The Doctor let go of Jack's hand to rub the back of his neck. "They're broken. That's the point. You can't put anything new on them, you can't stop them from repeating what's on them. They're just annoying and you know there's nothing you can do about that, no matter what you try. They're just ready for the scrap heap."

The Time Lord took a few steps forward, until he was so close to the Trickster's agent that they could probably feel each other's breath. Lunaska and Jack exchanged a worried glance when he ushered them to join him with a sign, apprehensive of what he would do after such a virulent diatribe. The Time Lord's other side of the coin, ancient and merciless. It was in times like these that this particular regeneration was the most alien, much more closer to the Time Lords of the legends than the almost human madman he had fallen for.

"Hush!" The Doctor placed a finger on the thing's lips when it parted them. "I'm not finished. It's time you learn to listen. Can you hear them?" he said, looking all around. Jack instantly knew what the Time Lord was referring to. « The Solrem's wails, the one you've casually been murdering, spreading madness, little by little, into his mind, to make him kill himself."

They were the shakiest, highest notes of the discordant melody he had heard since they were in the mindscape: a shaking, out-of-tune line that resonated within Jack's bones. For once, the Trickster's agent didn't try to speak. It had been warned, hadn't it? Still the Captain was beginning to feel uneasy about what was about to come.

"Listen," the Doctor whispered while he put a hand on the Companions' temple. It didn't react at first, a cocky smile on its face. However, with the moments passing by, it slowly faltered into a horrified grimace. Eventually, it hissed loudly, taking a few steps back. "Oh no, you don't! Jack." That was all the Captain needed to move swiftly behind it. He immobilised it, making sure it wouldn't be able to escape. "I let you speak for so long, so now you will do as I say and listen until I'm finished. Lunaska, come here."

Jack's guts twisted as she glanced at him, hands twitching with nervousness. Although he felt more and more uneasy about the Time Lord, he nodded at her. Better not upset him further, for now. Moreover, if someone had to stop him and harvest the fruits of his rage, better be it Jack himself than Lunaska. She had enough on her plate to deal with in the first place. Furthermore, he was the Doctor's companion, he thought as the Time Lord gently cupped the Silthain's face, it was his duty to do so when necessary.

"He's not alone you know," the Doctor resumed as he put his fingers back on the Companions' temple. "There's the other ships, crying and screaming in distress. And there's the Silthains. People, thousands of millions of people living on these ships."

The Trickster's agent went through an impressive changes in a matter of moments, incapable of keeping the same shape for more than a few seconds. The Captain took long deep breaths, trying to keep the screams as well as the deep lamentations of the Fleet's voices in his mind at bay.

"Listen to them, Companions."

"Stop it!" It violently thrashed around. "Please, stop it! I can hear it, okay? I can hear! Please, stop it!"

Still, Jack didn't bulge.

Neither did the Doctor.

"Listen to the Fleet, the species you were so eager to lead to their extinction not so long ago. Listen to their suffering."

The Companions screamed but its torturer ignored it. It hurt to use the word, but Jack couldn't think of anything else. Right now, with the Doctor's cold expression and soft tone while he was voluntarily destroying the mind of another being, withering in pain in Jack's own arms, he felt that he wasn't looking at the Doctor anymore.

That man in front of him was much more like the ones they were used to fighting against, burning anger and hate and cruelty. The ones who wanted to ascend to godhood and who played with the lives of others like they had no meaning.

"Jack!" Lunaska yelled. She was violently shaking, her face stilled into a terrified rictus. She was weeping, silent tears streaming down her cheeks. "He's killing it, Jack. Little by little, he is annihilating its mind. I can feel him doing it—. " Her voice broke. "Please, please. We have to stop him," she croaked.

The Doctor was wrong right now and needed to be stopped. To hell with the consequences! He pushed the Companions away, not caring about it. "Step back!" he told Lunaska. Not waiting to see if she obeyed, he gripped the Doctor's shoulders hard to prevent him from moving. "Doctor!" The Time Lord was looking over his shoulders, probably at where the Companions were. Oh no, that was not happening. "You. Look. At. Me," he whispering through gritted teeth. He moved his hands to cup the Doctor's face, forcing the alien to look at him. "Now, you listen to me." The nothingness in his eyes frightened Jack, but he had to keep going. "This is wrong. Scratch that, this is so much worse than wrong. You have to stop, Doctor." Still no reaction, great. "Listen, Lunaska is terrified of you right now, and I have to say I'm a little scared to because I've got really no I—"

He gasped when the TARDIS poked hard at him, feeling her mixture of annoyance and worry. He hadn't noticed the crack in his mental barriers. A long stream of images flashed through his mind. He tensed at their weight, his grip on the Time Lord growing harder, mind disoriented by the sheer volume of sensations and half-said instructions. He understood the essentials, though.

"Come on, Old Girl, let's do this, we've got a Time Lord to save."

"Are you sure you still want to travel with him?" Lunaska asked as Jack was pushing the TARDIS' door. He stopped right in his tracks. "No, don't answer. I already know anyway. Just—" She tapped his shoulder. "Be careful. And when you're tired of your Time Lord, come to the Fleet again. You'll always be welcomed."

The Captain turned on his heels, a cheeky grin on his face. "Don't worry, I'll definitely be back. There's so much to do here, so many things to explore," he said while he hugged her tightly. "I'm counting on you to take care of the Fleet while I'm not here."

She poked him on the forehead. "Watch your words in front of the Commander, you puny human."

When he eventually released her, he promptly kissed her goodbye. According to the doctors onboard, he had slept through the whole two last days, mentally drained from the confrontation with the Companions and the mind melt with the TARDIS and the Doctor.

The Companions had escaped in no time, Lunaska had told him. She had also confessed that although she was grateful for his help, she could neither forget what the Doctor had done nor forgive him. He wasn't to put a single foot on the Fleet while he still wore that face; she wasn't willing to take any risk. As such, Jack hadn't seen him since and needed to check on the Time Lord.

"Hello, gorgeous," he muttered to the ship, touching one of the coral struts.

She shut the door behind him. In the blink of an eye, she was piloting herself. Into the Time Vortex according to the monitor. Jack grinned, glad to see that he could have read that without difficulty, not even needing the image and word she had whispered into his mind.

"We're getting better at this, aren't we? Now, where did the Doctor go?" he asked as he rushed through the console room to the door leading into the corridors.

She was obviously as anxious as he was about the Time Lord seeing that she halved the distance, making him go through a straight passage while she shared with him glimpses of what the Doctor felt. Unsurprisingly, it was mostly buckets of guilt and self-loathing. Also, worry and anger.

"Don't worry. He sent me there himself for that purpose and obviously, I succeeded. You've seen it. We're gonna sort it out in no time," he muttered the reassuring words, more for himself than for the ship when he was at the doorstep. He thanked her warmly when she nudged him in encouragement. He took a deep breath and stepped inside.

The lights were at minimum intensity, providing a good starry atmosphere in which to brood, Jack thought with bitterness. The Doctor was sitting on the bench, chin resting on the palm of his left hand while his right one was tapping the soft material. He didn't acknowledge Jack's presence yet, keeping his eyes fixed on the sky. That time, it was displaying a quotation, the general meaning being "losing time because of something made it important"—he wasn't so sure, the TARDIS' equivalences were weird, and it showed him a rose to illustrate the "something"—and that somehow felt familiar.

"You didn't sleep," Jack stated as he joined him on the bench. He sat down next to him. "Do you feel better?" he asked after a while, tired of the silence when he needed to speak with him.

He didn't flinch under the dark brown eyes that examined him, like their proprietor was searching for something on his face. Then, the Time Lord looked away. "I'm fine. It's not me you should be worrying for."

"Mind games. I've seen worse and I fear I'll see worse. I've got an eternity and I've learnt since long that people always manage to improve on worse. I don't say that it wasn't horrible," he made a short pause to will the Companions' image away before it cast much more unpleasant reminiscences. "I'm just saying I'll manage."

The Doctor let out a humourless chuckle. "Captain Jack Harkness, no matter the circumstances, always finding a way to bounce back on his feet."

"I'm a very adaptable sort of man, you should try me sometimes." The other rose an eyebrow, shaking his head in an equal measure of amusement and exasperation. And here it was again, silence. "You know, talking can help. I mean, sometimes, you really should talk about your feelings, even if I know you're kind of emotionally constipated." The last part was unnecessary but Jack mainly wanted to stir the Time Lord up. However, the obstinate bastard didn't react. Jack rolled his eyes. "Come on, after all that happened between us, you owe me that."

As soon as the words were out, the Doctor's gaze shifted to Jack, watching him carefully. The latter wondered what was the sudden obsession: it was far from the first time the other had looked at him like that since he had been back with him. Not that a few hours were long—he didn't count the days he had passed out cold—but there had been too far many stolen glances.

Eventually, the Time Lord let out a frustrated groan, passing a hand in his hair. "Right, right," he sighed in defeat. "If you want me to speak, I'll speak," he said with obvious unhappiness. "I don't understand. I'm really trying though but I don't understand and it's frustrating to no end. No matter how I turn this, I don't understand and the TARDIS isn't of much help. She's all secretive and weird."

Jack rose an eyebrow. "And you're not making much sense here, Doc, even if I 'understand' what you could probably mean."

The Doctor glowered at him. He was in a quite touchy mood, wasn't he? "That's you I'm talking about!" When the words were followed by an eye roll—one of the sort that he could have guessed from the start—Jack could almost hear the "you thick idiot". It amused him much more than it should have. "You turn up and, all of sudden, the TARDIS loves you. When we had the mind melt, she even shielded part of your mind and it's making me curiouser and curiouser."

And not being able to resolve the enigma he was for the Time Lord was probably killing the Doctor. "So, I'm a mystery for you to resolve? I really like the sound of that. Mysterious and impossible, that's quite a good combination don't you think?"

"Yeah. That suits you well." He was about to add something but stopped himself, mouth still hanging open. He let out a "huh" before moistening his lips. "Jack," he said after a long while, his expression much more serious than before. Jack instantly knew he wouldn't like the question and the Time Lord wouldn't like the answer either. "Are we okay? You and me, I mean."

Were they? If for the previous Doctor and the next, he could answer without hesitation that, yes, he was more than okay with them. That one though—even if Jack had outgrown his grief at that regeneration's words and actions since long—that one had just tortured another sentient being in front of him. He hadn't been himself—Jack himself had been a willing accomplice—but it wasn't something he could forget just like that, or forgive. Either of them, for that matter.

"With time eventually," he began after a long while, choosing his words carefully. "It'll be good." Time always healed the scars. He just had to wait. "But, actually, we can begin to work on it right now."

The Doctor lit up, a large grin blooming on his face, making it wrinkle. "How so?"

"Let's travel together. After this, I don't want to let you on your own. I really don't think it's good for the universe if there's nobody to stop you. And I also want us to visit Kephlinox from time to time." The Doctor blinked. Jack anticipated the question that had been coming and answered before the other asked it, "I've got a team, remember?"

"Oh. Right. Bringing Captain Jack Harkness back to his team from time to time. Duly noted. Anything else I can do for you?"

Jack grinned. The Doctor really shouldn't have asked that question, even less in those terms. "Well, since you ask, I don't remind you thanking me for saving your ass back on the Solrem, I'd really love a thank-you kiss. Or more, you know, if you feel like it." Jack winked at him then laughed at the Time Lord's sheer expression of disbelief. "No but rea—"

The Doctor's lips were suddenly on his own, muffling the end of the word. The kiss was nothing but teeth and tongues, forceful and messy. When they eventually parted, both panting and hands in each others' hair, the Time Lord put his forehead against Jack's, ragged breath tickling the human's tip of the nose.

"Not so smug now, are we, Captain?"

END

AN: For the curious ones, the sentence that's displayed on the ceiling at the end, the one with the rose, is a real citation. And that's, "It is the time you have lost for your rose that makes your rose so important"; from The Little Prince.