Jack wandered through the space station's cocktail lounge for the third time, struggling to appear casual and not attract attention. He'd failed, miserably. Miserable being the operative word. Pain was deeply etched into every plane of his otherwise handsome face. He glanced around the room one more time, then sighed and sat down at the bar.

"You look lost," a curly haired woman in the next seat observed.

"No…just hoping to find someone," he said, rather curtly. He felt the weight of her gaze and surreptitiously tugged down his coat sleeve, making sure that his vortex manipulator was concealed.

"You've been scanning for Artron energy," the woman observed. "You're looking for a time traveler."

"What of it?" he snapped.

"I've seen you pass through here three times so far. You've probably been reading me."

"I'm sorry," Jack muttered. He straightened abruptly. "Forgive me. I seem to have misplaced my manners. Captain Jack Harkness."

"River Song," she replied. Her eyes widened in recognition of the name, though this sad man sitting beside her didn't at all fit the Doctor's colorful tales of a happy go lucky playboy. Something was very wrong.

"Have we met?" Jack asked, noticing her intent stare.

"No…no, we haven't. But I think, perhaps, we have a mutual friend."

"A man with two hearts," Jack said cautiously.

"Yes."

"Travels in a blue box?"

"Yes."

"Do you know how to find him?" Jack asked desperately.

"I can generally manage to locate him," River hedged. "Can you tell me why you're looking for him?"

"I need to speak to him. Desperately. He's the only one who can possibly…please, if you can help me…I just need to speak to him."


"Hello, Sweetie."

The Doctor smiled and brushed his unruly hair back from his face as the flash of the vortex manipulator faded. "River! And Jack…what is it, Jack? What's happened?" he asked, sensing the raw pain emanating from his friend.

Jack hesitated for just a moment, staring at the unfamiliar features of the tall man in the tweed jacket and bowtie, but then he focused on those green eyes, so full of ancient pain, and recognized his old friend.

"How do you live with yourself?" Jack asked. It wasn't an accusation; it was a question. "When the people you love are dead, and you're not, and it's your fault, how do you live with yourself? How do you live with yourself, when you cannot die?"

"You find someone else to love," the Doctor said quietly.

"How can you say that?" Jack demanded. "You can't replace people. Not Ianto…not my...grandson…"

"No, you can't. You can't ever replace people, but you can open your heart. Somehow, no matter how hard I try to shut it off, someone always seems to find me and convince me that there's room for one more."

"How did you cope, after the Time War, knowing that you'd killed everything that made your life worth living?"

"I didn't. Not for a long time."

"And then? What happened? What happened to you that made it so you could live again? Please, Doc, you've got to tell me, because this is killing me."

"I can see that, Jack," the Doctor replied quietly. "And you know what happened. I met someone who loved me, despite all my sharp edges and broken places. I met Rose."

"Ianto…I think…I know…he loved me, the way Rose loved you, and he's gone now, and it's my fault. I was so confident…I just had to go and pick a fight…"

"As I understand it, that was your job," the Doctor observed mildly. "Defending the Earth from alien invaders? What would you have done any differently? What could you have done?"

"I don't know."

"And did you save the Earth?"

"Yeah. But it doesn't mean anything."

"I think it does to the other six billion people who live there."

"But not to me! Because Ianto is dead. My heart…is dead. But at least he was an adult. He understood the dangers of working for Torchwood…of loving someone like me. Steven was just a little kid. He just…he just looked up at me and said 'What do you what me to do, Uncle Jack?' And I knew he was going to die, but I used him anyway. He was my grandson, Doc…"

"And you traded his life, for the lives of all the other children on Earth," the Doctor said, with infinite compassion.

"Do you have any idea what that feels like?"

"Yes, he does," River answered suddenly, "Because he saw his best friends' infant daughter stolen away, raised without a home or love, and knew that it was done because of him. He knows."

"River," the Doctor chided gently. He began intently typing information into the computer.

"Doctor?" River asked quietly.

"He's my friend, River, and he needs to heal. I was the right person…the only person, really, for him to tell his story to, but I'm not the right person for what comes next. I'm going to give you some coordinates. Take him to see Rose."

"Is that altogether wise?"

"He needs her," the Doctor replied simply.

"And what about you?" River asked.

"Two TARDISes in one place is a very bad idea," he replied, just a little too glibly.

"Is that the only reason?"

"No," he replied, and something in his tone forestalled any further questions.

"All right," she said softly.

"It'll be fine…I'm sending you to just a quiet day, spent wandering around a market place. We were accustomed to Jack turning up in odd places, and he knows what not to say."

"So do I."

"I know. And thank you for this…for everything."


Jack slumped against the outside of the TARDIS. He still had his own key, but it didn't feel right to just walk in, not after all this time. He heard her laughter before they came around the corner, hands intertwined, Rose's head resting against his shoulder. This was the Doctor's second regeneration - the second that he'd known, at any rate, but Jack would have recognized him anyway, just from Rose's behavior. There was no mistaking the look in her eyes, or that smile that was reserved for just one man. Jack knew, with sudden clarity, that that's what everyone else had been seeing when he and Ianto were together.

Of course it was Rose who spotted him first. "Jack!" she exclaimed happily, stepping forward with her arms extended for a hug. Then she saw his face. "Jack? What is it? What's wrong?"

"Rose…" he rasped.

"I'm here, Jack." She reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck and he slumped against her.

The Doctor steadied them both, concern flooding out his initial flash of irritation. Whatever this was, it was very real, and very terrible. He shoved open the TARDIS doors, steering them all inside. They made it as far as the first strut, then Jack's legs simply wouldn't hold him anymore. They slid to the floor in a tangle of arms and legs, Jack wrapped around Rose and hanging on for dear life.

"Shh…shh...I've got you," she soothed, as a silent torrent of tears soaked her jacket. "Doctor, is he hurt?"

The Doctor hurriedly scanned Jack with the sonic. "Not physically. Jack, what happened? How did you find us?"

Jack's only reply was a strangled sob.

"All right, Jack…" He gave Jack's shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Rose, I'll be back in a moment, all right?"

She nodded, not taking her attention from Jack.

The Doctor stepped back outside the TARDIS, looking carefully all around for some clue as to what was going on. "Hello?" he called out, detecting a flicker of motion in the shadows. "Is anyone there? Can you tell me what happened to my friend?"

"He lost someone - two someone's, actually - who were very dear to him," River replied quietly.

"Who are you?"

"A friend."

"Whose?"

"Yours."

"I don't recognize your voice. Come out where I can see you."

"That's not a good idea."

"I've never seen him like this. What happened?"

River sighed. "It's a very hard story, and I've already heard it once tonight. He doesn't need to tell it again. Right now, what he needs is someone to hold him while he cries."

"And you - whoever you are - you decided that Rose was the right person to do that?"

"No. You did." With that, she activated the vortex manipulator, leaving the Doctor standing alone.

He headed back inside, stunned by the sight of the maddeningly flirtatious Jack Harkness, the man who was never short of a quip, hanging on to Rose and crying like a broken hearted child. Rose looked up at him, a sympathetic tear streaking her cheek.

"Doctor? Do you know what happened?"

"Only that he's lost someone, and he's grieving."

"How can we help him?" Rose asked, her eyes wide with compassion.

"You're doing it, right now," the Doctor replied, gently stroking her cheek. "Are you all right?"

"I've got this," she nodded, tightening her hold on Jack.

The Doctor shrugged out of his trench coat, wrapping it around Rose's shoulders. "I'll be…you call if you need anything…" he faltered.

"We'll be fine," Rose whispered.

The Doctor stood slowly and wandered off into the depths of the TARDIS. When he returned a few hours later, Jack was gone, and Rose was sound asleep on the floor against the strut. He lifted her carefully in his arms, carried her to her room, and set her on her bed, still wrapped in his coat. He gently smoothed her hair back from her face, then stooped to kiss her forehead.

Outside, in the corridor, he felt a sudden urge to check the psychic paper.


The Doctor reached into the inside pocket of his tweed jacket, pulling out the psychic paper. There were two words scrawled on it: 'Thanks, Doc.'