Behind the brave face, Jack was hurting – the Doctor could tell.

After the rush of adrenaline had worn off following the euphoria that came with actually being alive, the Doctor had looked around and realized that one very important person was missing – Jack Harkness.

"Where's Jack?" he asked impatiently.

"Down below," Tish whispered. "The Master—"

Whatever she'd been about to say was cut off as the Doctor abruptly rose to his feet and ran out of the room, desperate to get to Jack. Pounding down stairs and through twisting hallways, the Doctor ran as he never had before. Though having not been anywhere besides his cage, he'd had an entire year of listening to Jack's muted groans and occasional screams to be able to pinpoint exactly where the sound was coming from.

Arriving in the doorway of Jack's holding cell, the Doctor let out a string of Gallifreyan curses at the sight before him. Jack's wrists were encased in chains, as were his ankles, leaving his body stretched to capacity. He wasn't wearing a shirt, so the Doctor had an unobstructed view of his chest, which was littered with bruises and raised welts, and was oozing blood that trickled down to mix with the sweat and dirt already caking his body. The Doctor let out another string of Gallifreyan curses as guilt coursed through his veins at the knowledge that what Jack had gone through had been for his sake, and the sight of which could never be unseen.

Sensing movement, the Captain raised his head, eyes widening to comical proportions at the sight of the Doctor standing before him. "You came," he whispered, throat parched from lack of use.

Without a word, the Doctor aimed his sonic screwdriver at the manacles encircling Jack's various limbs. No longer supported, he fell to the floor at the Doctor's feet, landing painfully on his torso. Remaining on his hands and knees, Jack grimaced, but did his best to hide his discomfort so as to spare the Doctor what guilt he could. As soon as he'd fallen, the Doctor was there, guiding Jack so that he was practically sitting in his lap, and cradling his head to his chest.

Rocking them both back and forth, he whispered, "I'm here. I've got you, Jack. I'm not going anywhere."

Jack clung to the Doctor as though he were his lifeline. In a way, he was. Thoughts of the Doctor were what had kept Jack sane throughout the past year. Despite being unable to die from the physical torture he had undergone, the Master's taunts had almost made Jack wish that he could, more so than ever before. But it had been the Doctor who had given Jack the will to continue coming back and carrying on. Thoughts of the Doctor, and the love Jack felt for him.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," the Doctor murmured in his ear.

" 'S not your fault," Jack mumbled.

The Doctor gave no response to his statement, save for a humorless laugh. Instead, he said, "Come on. Let's get you back to the TARDIS."

Staggering to his feet, he placed one of Jack's arms across his shoulders, effectively taking on most of Jack's weight himself. Slowly, the pair made their way to the top deck where everyone was waiting.

"Jack!" Martha exclaimed. She ran to them, carefully embracing Jack. "You look like you've been through Hell," she remarked, unaware of what affect her words were having on the Doctor, who had been thinking the same thing.

"Near enough," Jack replied as he shot the Doctor a worried glance. "But I'm alright," he said, slightly more coherent. "It's gonna take more than the Master to put me out of commission."

"I'm glad to hear that," Martha said with a smile. "Doctor," she said, turning to him. "Mum, Dad, and Tish are wondering when we'll be going home."

"Tell them we're leaving right now. I'm going to get Jack stabilized, and then I'll drop everyone off wherever they want to go."

Martha nodded, before running off to relay his message.

"Come on, you," the Doctor muttered affectionately to Jack, who had been taking the opportunity his distraction with Martha had afforded to lean more fully on the Doctor. Winding an arm around his waist, the Doctor and Jack slowly made their way to where the Master had left the TARDIS. Now that the Master was gone, the paradox machine was easy enough to fix, and before long, the TARDIS was functioning as usual.

Once the TARDIS had been taken care of, the Doctor went to where he'd left Jack resting in one of the chairs surrounding the console. "I'm taking you to the medical bay," he informed him.

"Honestly, Doctor, I'm not an invalid," Jack protested, even as he allowed the Doctor to sling an arm over his shoulders and practically carry him off.

"My ship, my rules," said the Doctor in clipped tones. "What I say goes. And I say that you need a Doctor."

"Are you volunteering?" asked Jack cheekily.

By this time, they'd reached the hospital wing of the TARDIS. The Doctor abruptly dropped Jack into the nearest chair, before beginning to pace back and forth. Finally, he turned on Jack, a furious expression on his face, belied by the fear in his eyes.

"You were hurt, Jack," he hissed, "Because of me. If I hadn't taken you along, then the Master would never have been able to get his hands on you. This is my fault. I may as well have wielded the whip that struck you," he finished, gesturing to the numerous lash marks covering Jack's body.

"I'm going to stop you right there, Doctor," said Jack, though not without some effort. "It was my choice to come along, my choice to jump and hang on to the TARDIS for all I was worth. If anything, it's my fault we even went as far forward as we did. The TARDIS was only trying to shake me off, after all." He paused to clutch at his side. Looking up through his lashes, he stated forcefully, "In no way, shape, or form do I blame you for what happened to me over this past year."

The Doctor rushed to him, easing Jack down onto the examining table. "Steady, steady," he murmured. Drawing his sonic screwdriver from one of his many bigger-on-the-inside coat pockets, he ran a diagnostic scan, only to curse again in Gallifreyan. For once he was thankful to be the last of the Time Lords, so that no one could understand what he was saying or realize how deeply affected he was by what Jack had been through.

For your sake, his conscience couldn't help but remind him. Jack would be better off had you two never met. He even said it himself, right before he kissed you … right before he went off to face the Daleks, just to buy you more time … right before he died for you. And you left him. You left him, alone, to pick up the pieces of a broken civilization, without once thinking about how he might be hurting … how your abandonment may have broken him … You're at fault, for everything—

His thought process was abruptly cut off at the feeling of a palm connecting with his cheek. Dimly, he noticed Jack's raised hand, and became aware of a stinging pain spreading across his face. But he couldn't find it in himself to care. He deserved so much worse – especially from Jack.

"Stop thinking, Doctor," Jack ordered, in a tone that brooked no argument.

Pushing aside his feelings – at least, for the time being – the Doctor continued his examination. Jack was in bad shape, and – depending on how one looked at it – he was lucky that he couldn't die.

"I'm going to have to put you to sleep for a little while, Jack," said the Doctor at last. "You may not be able to die, but your body still needs time to heal."

"Whatever you say, Doc," he replied easily. And his innocent faith sent a surge of guilt racing through the Doctor's veins. Jack shouldn't be feeling that way about him, shouldn't even want to be anywhere near him, not after what he'd been through.

"Sleep well, Jack," he murmured, pressing his lips to the Captain's forehead (a purely platonic gesture, of course). As the immortal's eyes slid shut, the Doctor shuffled out of the room, eager to leave after having had more questions raised than had been answered.

I deserve it, though, he thought viciously. Jack doesn't owe me anything, certainly not after what I put him through this past year, and never mind what he's been through since we met. He'd be better off without me.

But would you? his conscience asked. Jack has said that you changed him, that you made him the man he is today. But what about his affect on you? What would you be like without Jack Harkness in your life?

Ignoring his traitorous thoughts – running, always running, his conscience chided him – the Doctor focused, instead, on the group of people headed his way – Martha and her family.

"Martha Jones," he said in that way that left her heart swelling. "You were positively brilliant."

They embraced, Martha clinging tightly to the Doctor and squeezing his torso for all she was worth. The pair didn't need to speak – they communicated through touch. And right now, their embrace was saying how scared they'd been throughout the past year, but how glad they were to be together again.

"I've missed you, Doctor," she whispered.

"And I you, Martha," he replied.

Keeping their arms wrapped around each other, Martha pulled away to look up at him. Smiling gently down at her, the Doctor bent his head to press his lips to her forehead, just as he had with Jack moments before.

"Doctor, I want to go home," she whispered.

"I know," he said simply. "And you should. Your family needs you after all they've been through, and you need them." Abruptly, he turned on his heel and strode away, his coat billowing out behind him. "Allons-y," he said over his shoulder. Clearly, Martha and the others were expected to follow – and they did.

As Martha's parents and her sister stepped inside the TARDIS, the Doctor could hear their gasps of amazement.

"It's bigger on the inside," Tish exclaimed.

Sharing a look with Martha, the Doctor chuckled only slightly, as he refused to let himself fully enjoy another's company until his current patient was out of danger. Punching in the coordinates, he left, deciding to check on Jack. Martha followed, wanting to say goodbye to both men away from the rest of her family. Entering the medical bay, she gasped again at the sight of Jack.

"Oh, Jack …" she whispered, slowly making her way to his side. "Will he be alright?" she asked the Doctor, not taking her eyes off of the damage Jack had sustained to his upper body.

"In time," the Doctor replied shortly.

"Goodbye, Jack," Martha whispered, pressing a kiss to his forehead, before retreating to join the Doctor where he stood. Looking between the two men, understanding dawned as she observed the Doctor's facial expressions. "You love him," she stated.

Caught off guard, the Doctor's head snapped to the side to face her. "What? Don't be ridiculous!"

"I can see it in your eyes, Doctor, as I've seen it in his," she continued. "Don't try to deny your feelings."

The Doctor bowed his head. "I can't love him, Martha. Jack is wrong. He's immortal, a fixed point in time. My body rebels against even being near him—"

"Yet still you carried him up from below deck and have rarely been parted from him since," Martha smoothly interrupted. "Forgive me, but that sounds a lot like love."

Giving a wet laugh, the Doctor looked up, and Martha was startled to see tears in his eyes. "I never could lie to you, Martha Jones. Yes, despite everything, I love him. And I hate myself for it, because I only succeed in ruining those whose lives I touch. Look at you, forced to travel for a year, all by yourself, facing danger at every turn. Look at Jack, turned immortal from his association with me. I'm better off alone – the lot of you would be better off without me."

Martha's response was instantaneous. Slapping him hard across the face – the same as Jack had previously done – she stood breathing heavily. "The hell we would be," she said. "Doctor, you change us – and for the better, I might add. You need someone with you. Otherwise, you run the risk of turning bitter and becoming evil like the Master. Is that what you want?"

Numbly, the Doctor shook his head.

"Then snap out of it, Doctor," Martha ordered. "You have a man who loves you and would do anything for you – even die for you, if he could. Are you going to throw that away out of some misguided attempt to protect him, and others like him, who may love you more than their own life?"

Shoulders shaking with suppressed sobs, the Doctor moved to embrace Martha, desperate for some semblance of comfort, even if he didn't deserve it. "But what can I offer him … a life of endless wandering? Who would choose that?"

"I did," Martha informed him. "And if he really loves you, all that will matter is that the two of you are together. If it was enough for me, then I'm sure it'll be enough for Jack."

"Thank you, Martha Jones," the Doctor murmured in her ear as he held her close to his chest.

She smiled into his neck, before pulling away and giving his cheek a quick peck. "Anytime, Doctor. Take a chance on love – you might be surprised."

With that, arms still wrapped around each other, they left the room. As the door shut behind them, a pair of steely gray eyes blinked open.


After returning the Jones family to Earth, the Doctor slowly made his way back to Jack's bedside, feet dragging. He may have admitted his feelings to Martha, but Jack was another matter entirely. How would he respond? The Doctor certainly wouldn't blame Jack if he said that he never wanted to see him again. The Doctor would almost welcome his rejection. At least he wouldn't have to wonder anymore.

As a distraction, the Doctor set about cleaning Jack up. Running a cloth under some lukewarm water, he began to gently dab at Jack's skin, watching as water sluiced over his chest and began to wash away the dirt, sweat, and blood that had been accumulating for a year.

Oh, Jack, the Doctor thought sadly, as more of his injuries became apparent. What did the Master do to you? And why would you go through all of that with little to no resistance? Was it for me?

Having done what he could, the Doctor sat about, waiting for Jack to wake up. His clasped hands resting on the bed, he bowed his head, ashamed to know that Jack's condition was his fault. Therefore, he was understandably surprised when a pair of rough and calloused, but oh-so warm hands encased his own, giving them a reassuring squeeze.

"You're thinking again, Doctor," Jack whispered softly.

Raising his eyes to meet Jack's, the Doctor was taken aback by the tenderness he saw reflected there … the compassion, the understanding, and … was that love?

"Jack," he whispered breathlessly.

They stared at each other without saying a word, the silence stretching between them like an endless chasm neither seemed brave enough to cross.

"I'm sorry," Jack said at last.

The Doctor's eyes widened. Of all the things for Jack to say, he certainly hadn't expected him to start by apologizing. "For what?" he asked, genuinely curious.

"For making you worry," Jack replied. "For hurting you—"

"Stop right there," said the Doctor authoritatively, trying to ignore the hurt that entered Jack's eyes at his tone and which further added to his guilt. "I'm the one who's sorry. I should be begging your forgiveness on my knees. You've been through so much because of me, not just this past year, but ever since I left you behind. And I'm sorry, Jack, I'm so sorry."

"Shut up," Jack spat.

The Doctor immediately fell silent, closing his eyes and bowing his head as he awaited Jack's verdict.

"Everything I went through this past year was for your sake – that much is true," he went on. "And when you left me behind on Satellite Five, I was hurt. But I eventually got over it. I realized how unnatural I had become, how that may have bothered you. And Heaven only knows I would never actively seek to hurt you. So, I grew up and moved on. But when I saw the TARDIS in Cardiff, I realized that I'd been lying to myself, and that I couldn't exist without you. So, I ran, I jumped, and I held on."

"You died," the Doctor whispered. "I felt it."

"Yeah, I did. Couldn't be helped, though – I was traveling through the Vortex unprotected. It was bound to happen."

"How can you be so calm?" asked the Doctor, near tears.

"Because that's all I know how to be," Jack replied. "If I wasn't, I'd go crazy. I've come close to the edge often enough. Those first few years, I tried killing myself at every opportunity. Eventually, though, I gave up and accepted that I would always be a freak."

"Don't say that," the Doctor exclaimed.

"Why not? It's the truth," he quickly countered.

"No, it isn't," the Doctor pleaded with him. "Don't let words spoken in the heat of the moment affect how you view yourself. If it's because of something I've said or done …"

"Gee, Doc, how did you know?" asked Jack, voice dripping with sarcasm. "You've only spent every minute since we've been together telling me how unnatural I am, and how I scare you, and that I'm a fixed point in time that wasn't meant to happen. How do you think all that was supposed to make me feel, especially considering I was hearing it from you?"

"Jack …" The Doctor reached for his hands.

"Save your breath, Doctor. I'm not looking for an apology. In any case, don't you know by now that no one expects you to apologize for your actions? We may not always understand your reasons for doing something, but we trust your judgment implicitly. At least, I do."

"God, what did I ever do to deserve you, Jack?" the Doctor whispered.

Jack's accusatory tone evaporated, leaving only exasperation, as he said, "Will you stop doubting yourself, Doc? You're a good person, and you are deserving of mine and others' love. Why can't you accept that?"

"You love me?" the Doctor gasped, looking up to hesitantly meet Jack's eyes.

"More than my own life," he admitted, and with such ease that the Doctor was momentarily blinded by jealousy. Everything seemed to come so easy for Jack, even an admission that would make a lesser man run and hide.

Shaking his head in despair, the Doctor rose, prepared to run. However, he was stopped in his tracks by Jack calling him back:

"I want you to see my memories, Doctor. Maybe then you'll understand."

"Jack," he began, turning back to face him. "That's an invasion of privacy. I couldn't do that."

"I grant you full access. Doctor, please …"

It was the 'please' that did him in. Jack sounded so helpless that the Doctor couldn't refuse him. "Where am I starting from?" he asked, approaching the bed again, hands already reaching for Jack.

"Wherever you like, Doctor – I have no secrets."

Nodding once, the Doctor placed his hands at Jack's temple, and was immediately transported inside his head, where he saw all that Jack had done since being abandoned on Satellite Five. He watched as Jack ran into the room where the TARDIS was, only to find it already dematerializing. He watched as Jack sank to his knees, head bowed, and cried. He watched him curl up in a ball, begging to die. He watched Jack being interrogated by Torchwood, and felt the same pain as Jack when their leader cruelly remarked that Jack had better pledge himself to Torchwood, since no one would ever willingly put up with such an anomaly – certainly not his precious Doctor. He watched as Jack drank himself into a stupor, night after night, in an effort to forget. He watched Jack go on missions, watched him kill, felt the guilt and the occasional flare of anger for the Doctor. The years went by, and then the Doctor was watching as Jack ran for the TARDIS as fast as his legs could carry him, before jumping and hanging on as the TARDIS attempted to lose him, all the while yelling for the Doctor.

He passed over their time together at the end of the universe and once they'd returned to the present day, skipping ahead to when they'd been separated on the Valiant – Jack, below deck; him, up above – each the Master's 'pet,' for all intents and purposes. Beneath his hands, the Doctor could feel Jack trembling, and knew that he must be anticipating something to come. However much it would pain them both, the Doctor now had to find out what he remembered – to free Jack from whatever mental chains still bound him, if nothing else.


He'd lost track of how long he'd been down there. The chains bit into his wrists and ankles, making it difficult for him to move so as to alleviate the pressure. The boilers hissed, and sweat trickled down his face, but he wasn't able to wipe away the moisture. He couldn't remember the last time he had washed, so all the dirt he'd been accumulating mingled with the sweat. And as much as he thought his body might explode from the heat, he knew that it wouldn't – or, more to the point, it couldn't.

Another blow landed, this time crushing a rib and distracting Jack from his internal musings. Groaning slightly, but determined to give no more of a reaction, he gritted his teeth and raised his head to meet the eyes of his tormentor – the Master.

"He doesn't want you, you know," he said to Jack, his pleasant tone belying the words he spoke. "He'll never want you, not like he wants me. He's always wanted me, ever since we went to the Academy together. Besides, you're a freak of nature – you shouldn't exist, yet you do. His instinct tells him to run whenever you're near – that's why he won't come for you."

With those words, he landed another crushing blow to Jack's abdomen, leaving him momentarily breathless.

"Don't worry," said the Master soothingly, mocking his pain. "Unrequited love gets easier with time. And you have all the time in the world, don't you, Jack? Ha, you even have time to spare!"

As the Master began laughing manically, Jack allowed a single tear to fall, trickling slowly down his face, all the while praying that if anyone saw, they would mistake it for a bead of sweat. He knew that all of time was at his disposal – he didn't need the Master rubbing it in like salt to a wound. But even all of time couldn't make the Doctor love him, not if what the Master said was true. And he had no doubt that it was. When it came to the Doctor, the Master never lied.

Nevertheless, Jack would hold on for the Doctor's sake, if only to spend a little more time with him. After all, being together as friends was better than not being together at all. Eventually, Jack was forced back to reality by the Master leveling another blow, this time at his face, leaving him with a black eye as a souvenir.

"Pay attention to me," he demanded.

"Sir, yes, sir," Jack replied, cheeky as ever, and fighting back in the only way he could or would let himself, the Doctor's influence having made him less and less willing or eager to carry a gun.

"You'll pay for your insolence," the Master promised.

"What can you do to me?" Jack taunted. "If you kill me, I'll just come back to life."

"I have no intention of killing you, Jack, my boy," the Master said, seeming to have regained his composure. "You'll pay in pain."

Jack scoffed, appearing calm, while on the inside, he was a tangle of emotions, his blood running cold at the thought of more pain. He wasn't a masochist by any means, but he was powerless to resist since he didn't know what that would mean for those above – namely, the Doctor. As such, he would willingly suffer to ensure their safety.

He lost track of how long the Master spent tearing in to him, tormenting him with both words and the lash. Finally, though, the Master seemed to tire. As he turned to leave, he fired a parting shot over his shoulder, a sick and twisted smile distorting his features, "In the knowledge that your love will never return your feelings, despair and die. Oh, wait – you can't!" He exclaimed with delight, before disappearing from sight.

Meanwhile, Jack was left gasping for air, as though the wind had just been knocked out of him, for the Master was as skilled at using words as weapons as he was that sonic laser of his.

"I'm sorry, Doctor," he thought desperately. "I'm sorry that I can't be there for you when you need me. I'm sorry that the only help I can offer is to die in your place, and thus draw the Master's attention away from you – at least, for a little while. I'm so sorry. Please, forgive me."


Abruptly, the Doctor pulled out of Jack's mind, disgusted by the display he had witnessed. Now that he understood where the Master would go, and why he would come back looking so cheerful, he was repulsed that he had actually held the Master in his arms and cried over him.

Jack felt the Doctor retreat. Thinking he was being rejected – and for his devotion, no less – he rolled over on his side, turning his back on the Doctor, and curled up in a ball. His shoulders shook with silent sobs, ashamed at having his weakness exposed in such a manner, despite having given his permission.

"Hey … hey," the Doctor whispered, tentatively reaching out a hand, only for Jack to flinch away from his touch.

"I know you could never … feel the same," he whispered brokenly. "So just drop me off at Cardiff, and I'll be on my way. You'll never have to see me again."

"If that's what you really want … is it, Jack?" asked the Doctor knowingly. At a shake of the head, he made his move – and what he saw nearly destroyed him. Jack's eyes were squeezed tightly shut, yet tears were still managing to leak out, staining his cheeks with their wetness, and his muscles were tensed as though he were in excruciating pain. "Jack, look at me," he pleaded.

Never having been able to deny the Doctor anything, Jack opened his eyes, only to find their faces inches apart.

"Whatever made you think that I couldn't have feelings for you?" the Doctor whispered.

"B-but …" Jack stuttered, not daring to believe what he was suggesting. "The Master, and … you …"

"What I had with the Master is all in the past, Jack. He's just a memory. And he can't hurt either of us anymore."

"I … don't understand," Jack said at last, deciding that that was as good a way as any to sum up his current confusion.

"Jack …" the Doctor sighed, cupping his cheek. Jack's hand came up to grip his wrist, as though it was his only anchor to reality. "I love you," the Doctor blurted out. "How could I not? You're smart and funny; you have a high moral code; your sense of duty and honor astounds even me; and you're loyal to a fault. How many times did you die in this past year alone for my sake, not to mention whatever other horrors the Master put you through?"

Jack shrugged, before reaching for the Doctor, cupping his cheek with his other hand. "What can I say, Doc? I live for you. You're the reason I kept coming back – not that I had much of a choice, but that's beside the point. Without you, I'm nothing."

The Doctor ducked his head in embarrassment at Jack's impassioned speech.

"Hey, don't hide," said Jack, releasing his hold on the Doctor to lift up his chin so that their faces were level. "This is me, remember? I'm the last one who's ever going to judge you. And if you think that I regret any of my past actions, you're wrong. I love you too, Doctor, and my love for you will always outweigh any personal risk I may take. I would and have laid down my life for you, after all. Remember the Daleks? I'd bought you time, and that's all that mattered – not my life, nothing but that you were still breathing. What I did then was for love, and what I continue to do is for love – all of it for you, Doctor."

"Jack …" the Doctor whispered, tears steadily making their way down his cheeks. He moved to brush them aside, but Jack stopped him.

"Let me," he pleaded, raising his hands to frame the Doctor's face with them. "Let me wipe away your tears. Let me take away the pain. Let me love you, Doctor."

"Yes," the Doctor replied, voice barely above a whisper, so Jack had to strain to hear him. "Yes."

Smiling tenderly, Jack, hands still cupping the Doctor's face, brought their lips together. Eyelids fluttering shut, they gave themselves over to the emotions they'd been trying to hide for so long. In that one kiss, they tasted the promise of tomorrow and knew then that they would remain by the other's side for all eternity.

"Jack, I …" the Doctor began, probably to apologize once more for the hellish year that Jack had been through.

Jack shushed him. "Don't think, just feel," he urged him.

And so he did. They both would, for the rest of their existence.