Title: Punk Venom
Author: Shen
Rating: PG this part, NC-17 overall
Characters/Pairings: Ten/Jack/Rose
Summary: When chipmunks go bad, and the Doctor's on call, where does that leave Jack? A Ten/Jack/Rose OT3 fic. From the prompt: Someone is hurt; someone else provides comfort; and the third member of the trio feels left out.
Author's Note: On LiveJournal, wendymr won a fic of "at least 700 words" from me in the help_haiti auction. This is 5200 words and counting. XD So I hope it's to your liking, Wendy!

Chapter 1: Bitten

"Yeow!" Rose swiftly pulls her hand away from the tree on which she'd been resting her weight. Shaking the damaged appendage, she glares at something on the trunk.

"Aren't you a cheeky little… tree-rabbit thing," she admonishes with a little annoyance. Jack steps closer to see the culprit.

"It doesn't look very cowed, does it?" He examines the brash critter, which hasn't budged since biting Rose. Its fuchsia and ultramarine fur bristles as if with indignation at the man's amusement. "Cute, Rose; your attacker looks like a punk chipmunk with rabbit ears. Now there's a good war story!" Reflexively, he glances to the Doctor to share the humor, but the older man isn't looking at him. Could something be up?

Sure enough, at the business end of the Doctor's brown-eyed gaze, Jack finds the trail guide and several of the planet's natives - all looking at Rose with horror.

"Oh god, what?" comes her voice, all brevity disintegrated. For half a moment longer, her only answer is wide-eyed gaping, which by itself is enough to evaporate every iota of moisture in Jack's mouth.

"A-antivenom!" the guide finally yelps before desperately scrabbling at the straps of his pack. He clearly can't remove the bag fast enough. A whimper emits from Rose's throat, and she quickly shuffles towards Jack and the Doctor. The former puts a comforting arm around her waist and begins to examine the hand, trying to recall his field training in regards to poison.

"What kind of venom is it?!" demands the Doctor. He starts taking her vitals with the sonic screwdriver. Meanwhile, Jack can't hide his wince. The site of the venom injection isn't bleeding profusely, but the skin beneath the vital fluid is darkening. Oh please, don't let this be necrotic…

"Jack. Doctor, I…" trailing off, the woman surrenders most of her weight to his arms. "I feel…" She starts to wheeze.

"Jack, give me your belt!" Suddenly, the Doctor is maneuvering around Rose to loosen his buckle and pull off the article, hands in a place Jack would usually thrill to have them. He's too distracted by Rose's unfocused, frightened eyes to give a thought to it now.

In less than a minute, Rose's upper arm is being brutally squeezed by the makeshift tourniquet, and the tour guide has an injector gun at the ready.

Experience makes him ask, "Is that safe for humans?"

"These antibodies are safe for most carbon-based peoples. Put trust in me; it's not worth the risk of not trying it," the guide promises earnestly. Jack nods, and scaly hands carefully shoot the antivenom into Rose's other arm.

~*~*~*~

A terrifyingly long time later, Jack and the Doctor burst from the trees, back to the more residential area of the park. Rose's head lolls against the former's chest, but her face isn't serene in repose – it's scrunched in pain, and she occasionally gasps pitifully. The antivenom helped, but it's not 100% effective for her.

Jack's heart throws itself against his ribs, overcome with panic and exertion. Why Rose, she can't process things like the Doctor can, or return to life like he can, why so far away from help… He stops at the foot of the trail for just a moment, inhaling greedily.

The Doctor points, "The ambulance! They can't get it through the trees, c'mon." He's already fifteen steps ahead when he notices Jack's absence. Looking back and understanding immediately, he runs back as Jack stumbles forward and relieves him of his precious burden. All three reach the vehicle, which has a stretcher waiting for them, moments later.

The ride is smoother than expected; force dampeners keep the back fairly stable while the driver careens madly through the city streets to the hospital.

"Her body's not regulating anything like it should, look, you can see how she's working to make herself breath correctly – I think certain neurotransmitter receptors are – Rose, love, that's good, keep it up, we'll help you…" the Doctor alternately rambles at the paramedics and at Rose herself, compulsively squeezing her hand and rubbing her arm as if to warm it. Jack can only watch or else be in the way; he clings to something in the back corner of the workspace. The Doctor had been carrying her so got the preferable seat.

He retains that position as they wheel her into A&E. The paramedics having reported ahead, more aliens are waiting to take her to Resus for treatment, but there is one delay.

"Who are you two to her?" demands someone Jack assumes is a nurse.

The Doctor yells, "Husband, now come on!" But she turns her gaze on Jack.

"And you?" Crap. For all its advanced tech, this is still a staunchly monogamous populous.

"I'm her brother. Can I come, please?"

"You don't smell even remotely alike," states the woman flatly. For the first and possibly only time in his life, Jack curses his 51st century pheromones. But, rattled as he is, he still attempts his signature grin.

"She's… adopted." Ugh, that was shaky. He's losing his touch, or maybe he's just too messed up right now. The nurse doesn't look convinced.

"Sorry, blood relatives and spouses only." In a flash, both of his lovers disappear through double doors without a backward glance, and Jack can only stare.

~*~*~*~

It had started as such a nice trip. The Doctor, Jack, and Rose had landed in a city filled with fantastic buildings, many of which arched over each other, weaved through one another, or had walkways erected between skyscrapers that intertwined in a dizzying fashion. Whatever the glass-like substance from which they formed their windows was, it reflected the planet's red sun in riotous palettes of every color imaginable. Down at street level, curvy personal vehicles piloted by short, scaly natives glided along the roadways, which were equally as chaotic as the buildings.

The trio spent the day shopping, finding neat little cafes,hitting a museum, and taking a bus-top tour. With the roads the way they were, Rose kept swearing that the ride was much like something she called a roller coaster.

"Except you're not supposed to – oof! – be trying to appreciate the view in the middle of a reverse corkscrew."

"But Rose, we're not being inverted at all!" protested the Doctor with a wink at Jack.

"The lack of seatbelts on this thing kind of balances that out!" she wailed, knuckles white on the bar in front of her.

In true tourist fashion, they fell prey to some lovely vid-brochures at the close of the bus tour. After packing a bag from the TARDIS, they hopped an overnight transport to a town on the edge of a low mountain range, with lots of beautiful hiking to be had in the native, vividly-colored forest.

It had been a charming guided trail at first, warm enough that Rose tied her thin hoodie around her waist, messy enough that Jack doubted anyone but the TARDIS could get the Doctor's canvas shoes clean again. And even the ship would pout at him over it for a day.

He had a sweet wind through his hair, Rose hip-bumping him to try and make him trip, blue trees and pink moss – idyllic, in other words. Until the chipmunk from hell.

~*~*~*~

Jack wakes with a grunt. He had been worrying and reflecting on their trip so far, but apparently sleep overtook him at some point. Standing up, a series of cracks and pops make him wince. Hospital waiting room chairs aren't the best (or worst) accommodations he's ever had...

Wait. He's been here all night? A glance at a wall chrono confirms his suspicion. If there had been a change, the Doctor would have come out and woken him, right? But what if she'd... would the Doctor tell him right away? This brown-haired, wiry incarnation was new enough that Jack wasn't sure.

Shaking hands struggle to pull his mobile from tight jeans.

Soon, "Hello?" comes an absentminded voice. It sounds on the annoyed side of distracted, which in this case encourages Jack.

Questions stream out in a rush, "Doctor? How is she? What's going on?"

"Well, thankfully, humans are fairly regular visitors to this planet, and their treatment seems effective enough. The drugs are quite interesting, actually. They incorporate enzymes that use a mechanism triggered by-"

"Oh thank god." For once, the technical details lack interest for Jack. "Is she awake? Can I see her? And Doc, wh-"

"Hold on," interrupts the Time Lord. Blue eyes blink in surprise as muffled shouting leaks through the phone's speaker. "Jack, we'll talk later."

"But what's going-"

"Later! She's fine."

"Doctor, what should I do?" forced the former Time Agent in frustration.

Sounding irritated, the Doctor yells, "Just get a hotel room, would you?" and hangs up.