Jack woke up from a short, restless sleep. In fact, he wasn't sure if he could call it sleep. Sleep implied rest, and Jack couldn't honestly say he'd rested from sleep in years. He'd had short, tense naps on dangerous spaceports after he'd been unable to stay another moment on the filthy green and blue planet he'd called home for far too long, and he'd had fleeting periods of darkness in his dingy little bed in this tiny flat.

He rubbed his eyes, staring about the room. The place was filthy. Ianto would have cried to see it.

He'd wanted to go to sleep in what was left of the hub, but he hadn't managed it. Too many ghosts seemed to float in from all of the corners of it. Gwen had suggested rebuilding, but Jack was hesitant. He knew the time was coming where he'd leave again, leave all his fuck ups behind, and find someone who could fix his vortex manipulator so he could get the hell out of this time area.

He checked his manipulator for the earth date, specifically the time.

April 22, 2011. He'd been in knots all day.

It was now eleven o'clock at night. Two minutes to go.

He got up, staggered his way over to a dirty counter, and pulled a bottle of whiskey towards him. He tipped the bottle over a glass.

"To you, the man who saved my life though you won't admit it, the man who abandoned me, the man I'll always forgive even though you don't deserve it. The man I love, and will always love, until the Universe has had enough of me and finally kills me, if it ever happens."

Jack tilted the entire glass back and swallowed.

The burn was good. He poured another and glanced at the time. Another minute.

"Every time I stared into your new eyes I wished I could tell you. I've been waiting for this you, ever since I saw your daft face grinning at me for holding a banana. Been waiting for the bow tie, for the shaggy hair. And when I saw you I felt my heart break."

He tossed the whiskey back, and took the bottle with him to the couch. He collapsed into it, feeling the springs grind together. The couch groaned.

"I wish I could take that shot for you," said Jack.

He looked at his watch.

11:02.

The Doctor was dead, and River Song was heading to Stormcage for her crimes. For killing the greatest man Jack had ever known.

He tilted back the bottle of whiskey and took another deep swallow.

He rested the bottle against his bare knee, flinching a little at the cold. Without really meaning to he began to chant an old nursery rhyme.

Jack knew the stupid bastard had said good-bye to him on his regeneration. The look in his eyes, even clear across the bar as he provided him with a quick lay where the stupid idiot didn't dare, was obvious. Pain, heartache, and death. Jack knew that look. He felt it all the time. He'd debated leaving Alonso at the bar and chasing after him, to be with him while he changed, but before he could decide the man had disappeared behind a passing Raxicoricofalipatorian, and he'd lost his chance.

Jack half wished he was in America, to be there for him, to comfort him. But he knew most of the information, who was going to do it, who was going to be there, and why. He was a Time Agent, and the Doctor had been well known in the agency, in secret whispered circles. Jack had had to bite his tongue when he'd learned his name from Rose, knowing his death was fixed. But he'd hopped along for the ride, fallen in love, changed, became better, and watched as his regenerations stepped down to that deadly time when he knew the Doctor would leave him forever.

Jesus, he wished he could tell Martha, tell Donna, tell anyone. Especially the Doctor.

He tipped the bottle back again, but only gained one burning drop. Disgusted with himself and with the empty bottle, he tossed it away. He thought of showering, of getting dressed and going to Lake Silencio to pay his respects, to go to the legendary Amy Pond and Rory Williams (he'd met the latter during the London Blitz, though Rory had no idea who he was) and tell them something, anything, but he knew he didn't have the strength for it yet.

He closed his eyes, feeling a doze set in. He was expecting the quick, fleeting dark before the screams and the snap back into reality.

These dreams were nice, though. He could hear the Sound of the Universe... the Time Rotor, the TARDIS, coming for him in his dreams. The feel of the pressure and wind of materialization.

The Doctor is dead.

Then came the snap, and his eyes opened and he gasped, sitting up in the protesting couch.

But the sound persisted, and with a final, hollow knock, he looked over to see something big and impossible and blue blue blue.

He stood up, his hand went to his hip, and he frowned when he realized his key rings weren't there. They were in his jacket, and he was in his boxers.

Then the door popped open, and out stepped a funny little man in tweed.

He's here, and is dying simultaneously in Utah. This is sick.

Jack swallowed. "Doctor."

"How's my favorite fixed point in space and time?" asked the Doctor, giving him a look. Jack didn't rise to it. He knew he'd done something to piss the Doctor off, and frankly didn't care at the moment. It was unlikely the effects of his little experiment were permanent anyway.

"I'm fine. How's my favorite physician?"

The Doctor grinned. "I had a Stetson. I liked it. Gone now," he sighed, cracking his back. "Was a present from a good man named Craig. Love a good Craig."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Right. Didn't know you went like that."

"Oh I go any which way I please. You're in your boxers, this isn't right."

"My dream, your nightmare?" Jack teased, walking to his bedroom to find his pants. He was smiling, but it felt disgusting on his face.

He fished up a pair of trousers and pulled them on, then snapped his braces on over his white cotton tank top. He walked back into the living room where the Doctor was examining the broken television set. "Better?"

The Doctor glanced up. "Your skin is like your favorite outfit. While I was worried about the effects nudity had on my nubile companions, it never bothered me. Anyway, doesn't matter. We should be off soon."

"Why?"

"Doing something in reverse. Didn't have time to plan. I've been to so many of your stag parties it seemed only right I brought you to..." he seemed to choke on something, "to a friend of mine. He needs a best man, too. I thought you'd do."

"Not you?"

The Doctor grinned, weakly. "I think there's a rule against it." He didn't elaborate. "Get dressed, though. Nicer."

Jack rolled his eyes, and plucked up a blue dress shirt from a chair and pulled it on. As he adjusted his braces the Doctor fixed the TV with a few winks of his sonic. "Sorry, laundry day is tomorrow."

"It'll do," said the Doctor, glancing over. "Shoes."

Jack obliged.

The Doctor held open the door to the TARDIS. Jack took a deep breath as he pulled on his coat. This might be his last chance to spend time with the Doctor, his last time to perhaps tell him how he felt, to do anything with him.

He followed the Doctor into the TARDIS. As per usual, he felt a warm wash of energy tingling up his arms. He smiled at her, at the new retro finish, and ran up the steps to fiddle with her aerial. She seemed to coo.

"Jack," the Doctor warned.

Jack grinned. "You know I'm the only other one Sexy lets fiddle with her dials."

The Doctor laughed. "Right, right."

"So where are we off to?" Jack asked, taking his position by the zigzag plotter.

The Doctor rubbed the back of his head. "Jack, what's it like?" He licked his lips but did not look up. As he spoke his voice slowly dropped in pitch until he could hardly hear him. "Being a fixed point, I mean? Everything having to happen, and never being able to change it?"

"It sucks."

"Yeah," the Doctor smiled, white lipped. "That's why I thought you deserved to know, since you've known all along that I'm fixed too... I just died."

Jack swallowed. Is this Doctor about to go to his death, and did he really want Jack with him? And what was up with going to a stag? The one day in the universe where it was rumoured The Doctor was married and killed in the same instant.

"Doctor?"

The Doctor laughed. "I died. Well, not me. A Teselecta. Top secret," he winked. "Just River knows. But I knew since you're a fixed point, like me, that you deserved to know. I didn't want you thinking I was gone for the next... well..."

"Billion years?" Jack suggested, feeling his heart pound way to fast. He's alive! His mind was screaming. He lived he lived he lived!

And more importantly, he came for me.

"No," said the Doctor, shaking his head. "I'd drop in long before that. I might be a coward but I'm not that bad. No, I just didn't want you to drink yourself to death wishing you could take that laser blast for me."

"What makes you think I would?" Jack challenged, although he'd been planning just that.

The Doctor sighed, reaching for his hand. Jack let him take it. "Because I know you and you know me, that's all." He squeezed his fingers, and the Doctor looked up finally, and Jack was struck by just how green his eyes were before the Doctor pressed his thin lips against Jack's scruffy cheek. Jack felt a bolt of electricity zap him.

The Doctor let go of his hand, and Jack let it drop to his side. Like flipping a switch the Doctor was full of mania once more, and was flying around the console. "Right! Well then! Stag party to go to, on the Moons of Yandore in the New Vegas Quadrant, where the women are plentiful and the booze flows freely!"

"It's your wedding, isn't it?" asked Jack, smiling crookedly.

The Doctor barely missed a step, but a glance up told Jack all he needed.

"Well, just so you know, I'm proud to be your best man, even if the wedding's already happened."

"Oh, well, I'm sure I'll get married again soon," said the Doctor, looking flippant. "After all, history says that Marilyn Monroe married a man who just called himself the Doctor, so you never know, you might have your chance in the future."

Jack smiled. "Thanks. Sure you wouldn't rather be having your wedding night, though?"

"Already had it!" said the Doctor with a devilish smirk. "River pushed me out the door, said to go enjoy myself. And who better than with a party animal like yourself?"

Jack chuckled.

"Well then," said the Doctor, pushing the switch which started the TARDIS's dematerialization, "as a good man once said, allons-y!"