Pairings: Jack/Eleventh Doctor, Eleventh Doctor/River Song (mentions)
Spoilers/Warnings: Set after Day of the Doctor for the Doctor and Clara. Future!Jack
Author's notes: written for the prompt Trouble on who_contest sur LJ. This was supposed to be smut-ish, but I cut it because it can stand on its own, and it's better like that. If you're curious, that Jack is the same as the one in A time to die, A time to build (it's the same verse)
Music box
He's on the deepest level of Lark's power plant, hoping that Clara had had the time to liberate the slaves because he's thirsty and he's been talking too much in one go, more than twenty minutes in fact. His throat is beginning to ache like he shouldn't and, as much as he loves hearing the sound of his voice, even he has limits.
The governor has already made his plan and there isn't much else to speak about to delay the moment he'd push the big red button and blow them into oblivion, with the thousands people living on the colony. It's not much compared to what he's already done in the past, but it's already too much.
He's beginning to fidget, casting glances to the doors whenever he thinks the governor isn't looking. To distract the other as much as himself, he begins to ramble about how nobody should ever decide for the future of an entire planet, remembering his own actions in the same time. The words Time Lord Victorious passed through his mind. He can't help but wince. Nor can he when thinking about the Moment and what the decision he'd thought he'd taken, until his Impossible Girl—
"Doctor!" The panting voice makes his hearts beat even faster than already they were. He doesn't turn back though, taking a deep breath to prepare himself for what's about to come.
"Doctor! I met this guy on my way—" Clara began hastily but the Doctor cut her.
"It's okay, Clara. It's Jack, he's an old friend."
He can feel the weigh of Jack's eyes on his shoulder, heavy and maybe a little accusing. Unless he imagines things. Anyway, which Jack is it? The one he met and travelled with, much older than him and in many ways wiser, but still the annoyingly flirty Captain he'd always known? That time, he had been the one to leave him: kissing him goodbye, then reminding him to visit the one the Doctor would leave on a stool, brooding over one of his precious human (which one was it again?). Or was it some Jack from an obscure future?
His mind is preoccupied and he ends up missing a chunk of the dialogue, but the Doctor figures everything is fine by the cheeky smile that Jack has when he glances at him. The Doctor rubs his palms against each others, letting a smile bloom on his face.
"Well, then. Now that your plan is out, shouldn't you give up? To be honest, it'd rather be better if you gave up. For you, I mean," the Doctor tries, hoping that his gamble will work and that nobody noticed he wasn't paying attention.
Of course, the governor tells them to go fuck themselves. He finally pushes the red button, but Jack grins. The captain lifts a wrist, showing his old vortex manipulator. When the holographic interface is projected into the air and Jack's fingers are running on the tactile screen: he knows this Jack is from the future.
"Downloaded the codes and rerouted the detonator into this little wonder," he says with a smug smile, glancing at the Doctor in a way that can only say "try telling me it's garbage".
The Doctor glowers at him, then looks back at the governor. Expectantly. "Told you so."
The governor shakes his head in defeat, raises his hands and there isn't much to do than offering him a little trip to the Shadow Proclamation. During the whole—short—trip, when he isn't swooning Clara as if he already knew what exactly to say in order to charm her (but that's the Captain and the Doctor wouldn't be surprised if he already knew), he feels Jack looking at him unabashedly as if gauging him. Not that he can complain, he's doing exactly the same while he tinkers with the console, showing him commands that Jack seems already familiar with.
That's a Jack whom already travelled with this regeneration then. Good, he nods to himself as he watches Clara exiting the TARDIS and walking through the parking that leads to her building. She doesn't turn back and doesn't witness how Jack's arms are already around his waist, his chin on his shoulder and breath tickling the Doctor's skin.
"She's gorgeous—"
The rest of Jack's words are lost: the Doctor has already turned to face him and grabbed his collar, drowning the noises with his lips on the Captain's. He's aware that this Jack is most likely not his, but to be honest, he's a bit childish and he only cares that it's Jack and that Jack isn't pushing him away.
The TARDIS shut her doors behind them as they stumbled in the control room, almost tripping on the stairs. Jack settles against the railing, hands cupping the Time Lord's face, the tips of his fingers on his temples. The Doctor mimics his position with anticipation, thinking of all the times they've done it in his last regeneration. He's careful not to break the long and sweet kiss though, as if Jack would somehow disappear if he let him go. It's a very silly—very human—thought, still, he can't help it.
Hello, Jack says as he opens his eyes on the red and golden fields at the feet of the Capitol, their mindscape last time they mind melded. It's been a long time for you, isn't it?
The Doctor looks at the net of dark blue tendrils streaking the horizon, one end disappearing into the sky, pulsing and humming with the song of the TARDIS welcoming Jack back home. Shall we compare our diaries?
We don't have diaries. Are you confusing me with your wife? Jack teases. The Time Lord isn't surprised that Jack knows he's got a wife, even he didn't see him since his regeneration. It wouldn't be a surprise either, if he knew who she is. Not that River isn't great b—
The captain stops himself mid-sentence, offering thoughts of comfort. It's already been quite a time since Darillium but that added to the fact that he doesn't seem to get Jack in quite the right order, the reminder of how Jack and River's situations are similar sounds grim. At least, he sighs, Jack can't die. He knows he's being incredibly selfish, but he's happy there's something constant in his long life. Like his TARDIS, a friend he can look forward to meet again, in any circumstances. Even one that will outlive him.
Jack doesn't comment on his trail of thoughts though. Instead, he raises a fist in front of the Doctor's mouth. When he opens it, there's a single Jammie Dodger resting on his palm. However, It can't be from Great Britain, 20th and beginning of the 21th century. It's of a TARDIS blue and its heart is white. While the Doctor takes it, he's hesitant and doesn't stop returning it again and again, searching for something, some indication of what this peculiar Jammie Dodger is.
That's a Jammie Dodger, Doc. You're supposed to eat it, I know you love them.
The Doctor sniffs it. It doesn't smell of flour and industrial raspberry jam. It smells of home and warm memories. How strange and intriguing! His eyes fall on Jack, examining his face for clues but there's nothing but a soft smile he can't really decipher. Also the sly fox is carefully shielding that part of his thoughts. Not funny!
Still, he's curious about that weird little biscuits and what kind of taste it has, except one of troubles since it's a gift from Jack and Jack always means troubles. The first bite surprises him so much he almost spits it out. He forces himself to swallow it, his throat suddenly much tighter, making him choke. Troubles, indeed.
It doesn't only smell of home, warmth and memories. It tastes exactly like that. These are real memories, he realises as the scenery changes to Central Park. Jack takes his hand and the Doctor squeezes it as he sees Amy and Rory chatting people he doesn't know sitting on a bench. They don't seem much older than they were when they left him. They don't seem unhappy either.
The Doctor knows it isn't fair to blame them and he should be happy they seem fairly well, but he can't help the thought. He can't help thinking that without Clara showing up, he would have been capable of spending an eternity up in the clouds. And there's River there, with a bright smile and a book on in her left hand. He doesn't know what's going on but he hears the laughter. And he doesn't like it. He should be there with them, sitting on the bench and being happy with them.
He can't stand to watch it anymore; he turns his back to his family, brow creased and pouting. Why did you give it to me? You knew what would happen! He accuses, planting an index on Jack's chest.
Jack doesn't falter. He merely takes his hand away before looking at him right in the eyes. This time, Jack lets him have a glance at his memories. It's after Darillium and she's already in the white space suit she wore when he first and last met her, both at once. She waits until she's finished briefing her team before going to Jack, standing at the doorway of the conference room. She offers him a sly smile and in no time, they are in a deserted room, mind melding.
I couldn't say no, Jack eventually says, gently pushing the Doctor out of his memories when he's shown exactly what the Doctor needed to believe it isn't just a cruel joke on him, as much as it sounds like it. He also knows that, right now, he's just being hot-blooded and thick and stupid.
I know, the Doctor sighs, passing a hand on his forehead. It's a beautiful gift. It's a lot more than beautiful. There not enough words to express how precious and expensive this gift is. He knows this memory of his family won't fade, it's forever burnt into his brain now. Memory gifts have never been ephemeral: River literally gave him her memories of that instant. It's something she will never be able to remember again: it's been deleted, like it never existed in the first place. I just need time. To learn to appreciate it. It still hurts too much right now, but he knows there will be a day where he will look at it fondly. Just not right now. Much more time.