The TARDIS shook, spinning out-of-control through the vortex. Clinging to a support pillar, squinting through the smoke and the sparking electronics, it was difficult to see what was happening. Jack could just see the readout, spinning madly. The Doctor stood gripping the controls white-knuckled in an attempt to steer them clear. Trying to keep his feet as the room bucked and span, Jack stumbled toward the console. Just then, there was an almighty cracking noise, and he was hit by a spray of shards from the central column. The Doctor cried out, shouting at his ship, and moved frantically around the console. In the background, Jack could just hear the regular and ominous tolling of a bell. He called to the Doctor, reaching for him and the console. Then the ground moved under him, and everything went dark.

He came back to consciousness slowly, but without the tell-tale gasp that signaled his coming back from a death. It was absolutely dark, and he blinked futilely for a moment, trying to find light somewhere. Stifling a groan, he sat up. He reached up to his head (shallow scalp wound, nasty bump, he'd get over it) and flexed his limbs, checking for wounds (scrapes, but no breaks or sprains). That done, he reached for his pocket and pulled out his mobile. As he flicked it on, its faint glow played over his hands. Good. This meant that he was not blind; he was just sitting in the dark. He winced at the pain in his head. He found himself wishing wryly that he actually had been killed. A trip down into that empty blackness and back up was never a piece of cake, but then, neither was the headache he was currently experiencing. Shaking his head, he dialed up the brightness of the display, and made to use the phone as a flashlight.

In the pathetically dim light, he could see that cables were hanging everywhere. It was clear there was serious damage to the rotor; a crack ran across the middle of it. As he pointed the light around the console, he caught sight of a crumpled figure curled around the base. Not trusting himself to stand and walk, he crawled over to the Doctor. "Doctor?" he asked, more tentatively than he meant to. The prone figure did not respond. "Got yourself knocked out, huh?" he asked, pointlessly. He shone the light over the Doctor's body to look for wounds, but found nothing but a few small cuts and scrapes. The Doctor's breathing was shallow, but that might well be normal for him in this kind of situation. Jack laid two fingers on the Doctor's wrist, looking for the steady 4-part rhythm that he knew to expect. Instead, he found a thready single beat. He swore quietly to himself. He didn't know how long a Time Lord could survive with only one heart beating, but he didn't care to find out. He gently rolled the Doctor onto his back, and, holding his mobile in his mouth, unbuttoned the unconscious man's jacket. "Doctor?" he said. "I hope this helps more than it hurts."

Jack laid a hand on the Doctor's torso, trying to work out which heart was still beating. He could feel that too-faint flutter underneath the right side of the Doctor's chest, and he tapped out the rhythm on his leg. When he thought he had the rhythm, he began compressions, just off-synch with the Doctor's beating heart. He could feel the Doctor's bones grind and crack under his hands, but he continued. It took a long time, so long that Jack almost gave up. Finally, though, the Time Lord's other heart began to beat again, thumping weakly against Jack's fingers when he reached down to check.

With relief, Jack heaved himself back against the console. Looking around uselessly into the darkness, he found himself at a loss. He tried to turn his mobile back on, but it had run out of battery at some point. He wished he were still in the habit of wearing his wrist computer; the TARDIS itself seemed to be completely without power. He could try looking for the infirmary (or at least the first aid kit), but even if he found it, he didn't have the first idea what else to do for the Doctor, except wait for him to wake up or regenerate. He'd half hoped that the Doctor would wake up in the middle of the CPR and tell him to stop, but the Time Lord hadn't so much as twitched while Jack was busy cracking his sternum and ribs. He rubbed his face wearily. His arms ached a bit from the effort, and his head was still pounding. Well. If he had to wait, he'd be better off waiting asleep than awake. Perhaps things would have sorted themselves out by the time he woke up. Jack curled up on the floor next to the Doctor, and closed his eyes.

It took Jack a little while to realize that he was conscious again. The darkness was absolute, and opening his eyes proved startlingly irrelevant. Clearly, the TARDIS hadn't managed to fix herself while he'd slept, but at least his headache was gone now. He sat up. "Doctor?" he called, softly. There was still no answer. Cautiously, he reached his hand forward, roughly to where he remembered the Doctor being before. His hands touched soft fabric, and then cool skin. "There you are," he said, talking to himself. "Feeling any better?" When he checked, the Doctor's breathing seemed a bit better, and his pulses steadier.

Jack sat a moment, considering. "Here's the thing, Doc," he said, his fingers still resting on the other man's wrist. "No power. No food. I mean, I can wait here with you forever. It's not my first time in the dark. But maybe we're better off leaving here and looking for parts to repair your ship?" He paused, waiting for an answer he didn't expect. "Yeah, that's what I thought." He took off his coat, and laid it on the ground. As gently as he could, he rolled the Doctor onto it, and began dragging the Doctor towards the door (as best as he could work out where the door was, orienting from the console). It was slow going; Jack kept having to stop to clear debris from their path. This meant that a walk that usually took ten seconds took- longer than ten seconds. It was difficult to mark time, in this black nothingness.

At last, he reached the door. He put his hand on it, and paused. He had no idea where they were- if they were anywhere at all. The TARDIS' shields might not quite work. They might be sucked into the vortex, or have landed somewhere with no air, or only lava for ground. "Doctor?" he asked, looking down pointlessly. "Last chance. Any opinions? Stay, or go?" No one answered. Jack sighed. "Go, it is." He pulled open the door.

The light blinded him completely. He closed his eyes, and waited for a moment, green flashing behind his eyelids. He squinted, letting his eyes adjust to the sudden influx of light. After a moment, he was finally able to see where he was. There was grass, and trees, and a road. The grass was green, and the trees looked like the sort of trees he was used to, too. So, inhabitants- and air, and probably food. Jack's stomach missed food. Didn't have to have it, of course, but it was always nice. He pulled the Doctor forward. As soon as he'd pulled the Time Lord free of the door, though, it slammed closed. He laid his hand on the door, and recoiled at the psychic emanations coming from the ship. Stay out, buzz off, etc. "Alright, then, sweetheart," he said, gently. "I'll be back after I've got him awake." At least the ship was still alive, if wounded. He hadn't been sure. Jack looked up and down the road. He picked a direction more or less at random, and began dragging the Doctor along with his makeshift coat-sledge.