Time and Again

Captain Jack Harkness had just stepped off the transport pad, preparing to introduce himself to the folks who had answered his signal when he heard it, the first and last sound he wanted to hear right now, the groan of the TARDIS. For a brief moment, he wanted to run, to find a way to transport out, or back or anything, except there was nowhere to go but back, and he was too tired to run. He just stood there, waiting for the door to open, or it to just fade away not sure which he wanted more.

Jack didn't know how long he stood there, staring at the door. He didn't have his key anymore, buried as it was somewhere in the ruins of the hub. She would probably let him in if he asked but he couldn't find it in him to care. Then the door opened, and the Doctor stepped out. "I don't know what we're doing here. This isn't where the…Jack? What?"

"Doctor," he said. There was no inflection in his voice, one way or another, and that more than anything told the time lord that something was wrong, something was radically wrong.

"Jack," the Doctor said slowly, drawing it out into two syllables in that way he had when he wasn't exactly sure what to say but wanted to bide a little time. "What are you doing here? Not that I am sure what I am doing here. There is something wrong…time has gone a little…" he paused in the middle of what probably would have been one of his long rambles and looked at Jack, really looked at him. There was none of the charm, no smile, not a flirtatious grin in sight, he hadn't even reached out for a hug and that just wasn't the Jack Harkness he had grown to know and well…he didn't exactly know what they were to one another but at the very least they were good friends. He took a moment and looked at the other man, double checked the year, and where they where, and then checked again. "What's wrong?"

"What makes you think…" Jack tried to say, but it stuck. He tried to open his mouth, make a joke, say something saucy, but the words just wouldn't come. Instead he stood there on board a ship bound for somewhere away from Earth, from Gwen and Torchwood, and the dead, so many dead. Away from Ianto and Stephen, and Tosh and Owen and Suzie. He opened his mouth but all that came out was a keening sound before the world went grey around him and his last thought was to wonder how close that pained scream sounded on the outside to the one his grandson made as he killed him.

"Looks like he's coming around, Doctor." The voice was unfamiliar to him, but at least he knew where he was. He could hear the hum of the TARDIS and part of him wanted to wrap himself in her warmth and just cry, but he knew he didn't deserve that luxury, not after what he had done.

"That's fine, Christina, best leave us now," the familiar voice of the Doctor pierced the heavy clouds around him.

"Are you sure? What about the time…"

"Yeah best. The other thing, well, let me get this sorted first." There was the sound of the door opening and then closing, but Jack didn't open his eyes. Maybe, just maybe if he pretended long enough he would fall back to sleep, or die. Maybe the Doctor would give up and leave him alone and he could sneak away, though that was unlikely. "Jack, I know you're awake. It's just us now, why don't you open your eyes and talk to me."

Slowly he opened his eyes. No wonder the room felt familiar, the same room he had lived in when this was his home. The lights were dim, and the Doctor was leaning against the door, his blue suit standing out against the white, as if he was preparing to keep Jack there by force if necessary. What did he say, he wondered to himself. He had tried to help and ended up doing nothing but bringing death and destruction to those who loved him. Hell, to those who didn't even know him. How did he face the man who had made him what he was, and tell him he failed?

"Are you going to say anything Jack? Or should I just stand here and talk? I can you know. Talk for the Galaxy, that's me, several galaxies, and still not run out of things to say. Did you know that there's a planet out there that actually has a competition for inanity? And it's not Earth, not but what that's mostly what's on the tele down there, that and the sport, but still even those blokes on reality television would have trouble in this contest. Not that I have ever entered, could though, probably win. Rather like you with flirting. Of course I have no doubt that you could win a contest in that if you chose to..." the Doctor continued to talk, wittering on about one thing or another, from one subject to the next until Jack thought his head would explode.

"Just leave me alone," he burst out finally, unable to take another word. Instead he rolled over toward the wall, and burst into tears. He lay there crying all the tears he had wanted to cry for the last six months but had been unable to let go. After a few moments, he felt the bed dip, and there was a hand on his back, long thin fingers just still, offering comfort that he knew he didn't deserve. He tried to crawl away further across the bed, but the time lord just followed, his hand never moving from it's place on his back. Jack wasn't sure how long they stayed like that, the TARDIS had this way of making everything seem timeless, but finally he ran out of tears and was reduced to just sobbing, and gasping. A big old fashioned handkerchief appeared in front of his reddened eyes, and he knew there was no choice but to take it.

"Now, mop up, and I'll get us a couple of cups of tea and you can tell me what happened, alright?"

"Don't you have somewhere else you should be, some planet that needs saving?" he asked bitterly.

"There is something I need to do, yes, but it can wait for just a little while." Then he was gone out the door. Jack sat up, his head pounding from the tears, throat raw with the grief he had been holding back for so long. He wondered how long it had been since he had eaten or slept but it didn't matter. What could it do, kill him? He dragged himself up from the bed and into the bathroom to splash some water on his face. If he knew the Doctor, and he probably did about as well as anyone who had traveled with him, he would be back at any minute.

When the Doctor returned, he was sitting on the edge of his bed trying to figure out what he had to say or do to get himself out of here. Part of him, the traitorous voice in the back of his head whispered that this was a time machine and they could go back, there had to be a way to save them all, but he knew that was impossible, meddling with time only ever caused worse problems and he couldn't even begin to consider all the consequences. Besides, where had the Doctor been when the Earth had needed him? Why hadn't he saved them, saved him? But it didn't matter, he would just tell him something and get the hell out, out to the stars, out to somewhere where no one knew him, and he knew no one, some place he could be alone and not hurt anyone again.

"Here we are, nice cuppa tea, just what the Doctor ordered," he said. He handed Jack the cup and a plate of chocolate biscuits that he used to like when Rose bought them. He idly wondered if they were the same one, stuck in a cupboard since the last time. Jack took one and crammed the whole thing in his mouth, almost choking as he remembered Ianto teasing him about how he put things in his mouth. He took a big gulp of tea and swallowed the too hot liquid down with the wheat and chocolate, all turned to sawdust in his mouth. It was a fight to get it down, his stomach almost rebelled at the intrusion of food after he didn't know how long. The Doctor just pulled up the chair from the desk and sat himself in it and waited.

"Thanks for the tea service, Doc," he said, trying to sound light. "Now if you'll just point me to the door, it's been great seeing you, but…"

"I don't think so, Jack," the Doctor said kindly. "Now, are you going to tell me what happened?"

"They died, Doctor, they died and it is all my fault."

The Doctor sat there for a moment, trying to digest both the words, and the strange swirls of time that were eddying around his friend. He had wondered why the TARDIS chose to bring him here, but now he was thinking that she was right, not only was it the right thing to do, but perhaps the two problems were one in the same. If not, he could fix the other later, right now, his friend needed him. After all, if anyone understood guilt it was him. "Tell me," he said, voice quiet but forceful.

Jack opened his mouth and started to talk. Once he started, it all came out, a long, painful string of mistakes, horror and pain. When the words began it was suddenly like he couldn't stop them, each horrible little detail from 1965 to the sacrifice of his own beautiful grandson, all for the good of people who neither knew nor cared about what happened outside their safe little lives. For six months he had been running, from his friends, his family, and from himself. But no matter how far he walked, how much distance he put between himself and London and Cardiff, he couldn't make himself forget. He thought about retcon, except it didn't work on him. He had tried it once, a long time ago and all it gave him was a hellacious hangover and a case of dry mouth that had lasted almost a month, but all of his memories remained intact. Somewhere along the line, he started crying again, and at some point the Doctor had moved from the chair to the bed, sitting next to Jack with an arm around his shoulders. Finally, when he couldn't hold himself up anymore, when he couldn't say another word, the Doctor held him while he shivered burbled.

Finally, after what felt like forever but was probably only a couple of hours Jack stopped. He felt…empty, as if there was nothing more inside of him, no emotion, no pain, no joy, just a big hole where his insides used to be.

"Jack," the Doctor said, pulling him up to look in his eyes. "I am so sorry. Sorry I wasn't there to help. But Jack, this is all wrong."

"I know, you told me before, I am wrong."

"No Jack, that isn't what I mean. This, the 456, children talking in unison, governments making deals to give away a whole segment of the population, its all wrong, and if you had been thinking clearly, you would have known that. What kind of rubbish history did they teach at the time agency?"

"What… I…Huh?" Jack said. He was exhausted, emotionally and physically, and the words were failing to penetrate his obviously thick skull.

"Jack," the Doctor said, his long, thin hands holding his head in place so he was forced to look him straight in the eye. "This… all of this was not meant to happen. When the daleks came through, they caused a big hole in the fabric of space/time, I believe I might have mentioned it at the time, yeah?" Jack nodded, there wasn't much else he could do. "Time was wounded. Mostly we fixed it, put the walls between the parallel worlds back up and all that, the rest were mostly small things, little things that will heal themselves or didn't matter like whether the lights on the spaceports in the Jagra brigade are blue or orange. This, though, this I have been tracking, a giant twist in the fabric of time around Earth, a whole different future, rippling out, distorting everything from here…to Boeshane and back. I was coming to try and sort it when the TARDIS locked on to you."

"You mean none of this…" he started, eyes starting to clear for the first time since he had practically fallen into his arms.

"Was ever meant to happen, not only was never meant to happen, but shouldn't, couldn't, didn't happen. This one event, if I leave it could cause incalculable damage to everything. Earth isn't even set for first contact for ages, well not you ages, but you know what I mean. This has to be fixed, or the future is in grave danger."

Jack dragged himself off the bed and stood straight, all the pain that had been wearing him down was still there, but now it was bearable if only because there was an answer. He stood parade ground straight like the soldier he was and always had been. "What do you need me to do?"

"Now hold on a moment. First I need to check some things, sort out exactly where the problem started. For now, you need food, and sleep, and a shower wouldn't go amiss either. Blimey, what have you been doing to yourself?" he said as he watched a little ghost of the Harkness smile almost appear.

"I lost my way for a little while."

"Happens to all of us," he said with a wink. "But the trick with running, in the end you can't help but take yourself along. Now, get cleaned up and I will see if we can't scare up something to eat. Fish and Chips, extra salt and vinegar?"

"Sure, unless you want to help me wash my back?" Jack quipped, almost his old flirty self.

"JAAACK," the Doctor said rolling his eyes, but there was still a smile there.

"Suit yourself," he said, pulling the braces down off his arms as he moved toward the bathroom.