A/N: Well this is depressing. Got the title from a McFly song. Hope you like it.
Down Goes Another One.
Jack was ready. His gun was empty now, so he threw it aside. Holding onto it wouldn't help. Three Daleks. Three goddamned Daleks were closing onto him now. He had nowhere to go. He faced the Daleks, waiting for something to come — for death, he realised.
"EXTERMINATE!" The Dalek in the middle shouted.
"I kinda figured that," Jack replied, holding up his arms. He was going to die, he knew it. He waited, his eyes open. He didn't wait much longer. The strength of the Dalek's weapon pushed him backwards against the door, and death came.
His eyes opened again, as if nothing had happened. Jack remembered the Dalek killing him, so why was he alive? He'd been so sure he'd die. He slowly stood up, and the world seemed to spin around him. He walked forwards, swaying from side to side, until he regained his balance.
Then he spotted something strange on the ground, and crouched in front of it. He picked it up. Dust. Where did that dust come from? Could it be—
No. The Daleks couldn't be dead, could they?
And then he heard it.
The TARDIS.
Appearing.
The Daleks could wait, he decided, dropping the handful of dust he'd picked up seconds earlier, and rushing inside the room. He entered the room, and watched the TARDIS disappear.
So he'd been wrong, then. The TARDIS was leaving, not arriving.
He didn't call out for the Doctor. He looked away, betrayed, hurt welling up inside him, then looked back.
The blue box was gone, and he was trapped. Trapped in the year 200,100, ankle deep in Dalek dust, millions of questions floating around his head.
And the Doctor had abandoned him.