I do not own Doctor Who.

Dear me,

Okay. You. Yes you. Your going to write this fanfiction. I know I can't stop you. But, if your going to - you have to promise me you will not ,make this ridiculously long with multiple twisting plotlines and all that blah. you have other fanfictions to write. I know you just have to write this. And, I know you developed this entire plotline like 5 minutes ago, but I swear, you have to promise me not to go overboard. Okay? Promise.
Sincerely, InnerBeast.
Okay, now that I have written a letter to myself lemme introduce my story. Freakshow is a AU. That being said, I'm sure you know what it means. Also, The Doctor will be OOC, for reasons. Perfectly good reasons. Hating will not be tolerated. I will, however try to keep Jack in character. I am not perfect, John Borrowman or a writer for Doctor Who, so please, please, don't hate me for OOC-ness. Please, Please PLEASE review! That being said, Allons-y!

Chapter 1: Two Hearts and About a Dozen Deaths.
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He was, in a way, their god.
By all rights, he was. He controlled when they ate, slept, went to the bathroom and preformed. He looked down on them with the eye of a greater creature, seeing them not as people but animals - freaks.
But freaks they were, each and every one of them. Some in small ways and some in ways that could not be hidden or ignored.
Mr. Holeman walked the row of cages, eyeing each one of the freaks like possessions. Evaluating every person like a butcher to a cow, checking to see if it was ready to be killed yet.
He stopped in front of the very last cage on the right and looked distastefully inside at the resident.
The freak looked like a normal man, an oh so normal man - But Mr. Holeman knew just how freakish he actually was.
"You didn't eat your food, freak." He spat distastefully at the man who was huddled in the corner, knees pulled up to his chest and eyes dark.
He was skinny and wore a wrinkled, torn and dusty pinstripe suit. His sneakers were old, worn and looked as if they had been worn for ages on end. His hands, clenched into fists, were shaking.
"I can't stand these bars." The man said simply, not looking up at the Director. "This place is so small, so caged in. I can't stand it." His eyes were filled with fear. "I know I belong out there." He said, looking out past Mr. Holemans head, to a tear in the ceiling of the tent where he could clearly see the stars twinkling in the sky.
The tall man didn't change his expression as he turned around stiffly and looked through the tear in the tent. "You don't belong out there freak - you belong here, in this cage with the other freaks." He said as he turned back to the man.
"Now, eat, before I make the Lizard shove it down your throat!" He yelled, causing others in cages next to the man to cower in fear of their owner.
The man didn't flinch, however and continued to stare at the few stars in the sky.
"Don't make me move you to the chain cell." Mr. Holeman said coldly, causing the man before him to look up at him with fear.
"Can you Imagine it? Two cages. One inside of the other. Chins around them, around you. No freedom. No moving." The man paused. "No tear to see stars through."
The man in the cage cowered under the thought. "Nothing should be caged like this...like that...ever..." he said softly, so only he could hear. It was a whisper of breath, like a promise to himself and others.
He said it as slowly, he moved forward and grabbed the bowl of slop that had been his meal for a forever. Since all he had ever known. He ate it without fit, the rancid taste meaning nothing on his tongue. He did not squirm to it's taste like others did - he simply ate. As he did so, the promise of those words seemed to scream out in his eyes. They held the determination to be free. It was because deep inside, he knew he needed to be out there on the stars, in all of time and space.
He could feel that time around him, see it and almost understand it - like a vortex that moved throughout the everything of the universe. He knew it was ten twenty three at night.

He could understand any language that came his way. Even that of the Lizard woman two cages down from his. The one that he could feel had been on this world longer than any other person in this tent.
He was a freak for many reasons - but the reason that people seemed to latch on the most was the pounding of his two hearts.
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Jack Harkness was also a freak. Of course he tended kept that bit a secret, the only other person to actually know being friend Gwen Cooper.
He never actually intended for her to find out either.
He really didn't mean to die in front of her, and he really really didn't mean to come back to life in her arms. Okay, he did slightly enjoy her shocked face when he smiled and told her she looked pretty right after doing so.
He didn't, however, enjoy the slap that followed his re-entry into life.
He had long since given his condition the title of "Immortality." He often smiled at how cool that sounded.
He had died about a dozen times during his life. The first time being a run in with a sting-ray when he was five, swimming un-attended in the waters of Florida. The last had been during a mugging. He really didn't know why he always came back from the blackness that was death time and time again.
It also irritated him slightly that he had an unnatural attraction for trouble and, well, death. Even though he was stretching it a bit, he felt that about every week he was thrown into some kind of peril, be it a robbery, shooting or an angry woman he had slept with.
That was why, at this very moment, he was frowning.
"Freakshow?" He said inquisitively under his breath at a piece of paper taped on a post by the bus stop.
The implications ran through his head, thinking of cages, torture or worse - and hoping he was wrong. The curiosity underlying the idea seemed to seep into his mind and he grabbed the paper from the post.
Examining it closer, another thought crossed his mind.
It could be fake. Totally, and utterly made up. Just a bunch of people in costumes and makeup, doing tricks that make them look like freaks.
He was about to throw it out when he realized what it would mean if it was true. More people, like him. Freaks. Torn, he ran his hand trough his hair and folded the paper up, stuffing it into the large pocket of his coat.
He was then forced to take it out again. For some reason, he had a need deep in his stomach that even considering going to this show was a bad idea. That feeling made him want to go more.
Jack never claimed to hate his life of excitement. though, dying never got better with time.
Biting his lip, he checked the dates on the paper for performances. Then, he took out the phone and checked the current date and promptly swore.
He should have taken it as an omen that the last performance was tonight at ten. He should have thrown out the paper and shrugged, chucking it up as a miss. He didn't however.
He really should have.
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"Oh, come on!" Jack said, looking at Qwen Cooper hopefully "It'll be fun! I promise. I'll buy you popcorn or something."
They were standing in line at the local coffee shop, waiting to get a warm beverage. All around them people buzzed with noise and chatter like bees on flowers.
Gwen sighed as crossed her arms, long brown hair hanging in her face slightly. "Why do you think I want to go see some lizard people and the like? I mean I know why you want to, immortal boy, but seriously, why don't you ask someone else?" She said with a Scottish accent, looking at the flyer jack was holding up in front of her face, eyeing the drawling of a lizard lady.
"I know you loved Cirque Du Freak when you were a kid, Qwen." He said simply with a smile on his face.
She sighed. "So?"
"So," He said excitedly. "I know you ran around saying you wanted to join a freakshow and the like."
She rolled her eyes. "We were like, 12." she said. "I didn't know freaks actually existed."
Jack smiled. "Until now." He said simply.
Jack never really let the word 'freak' bother him much. He knew it was true, so why let cowards get the satisfaction they wanted from him. To him, and now Qwen, it was more of a personal joke. Call Jack a freak and he laughes. Fact of life. Get used to it.
"Point being, that was then. I've seen worse things. I've seen people starved and tied in a basement fed only with cold ramen once a week. I don't need to think about people being put into cages."
They had been moving slowly through the line and were now at the counter. "Coffee. Black please." She told the Cashier, who nodded when Jack added another coffee to the order.
"They could not be in cages, ya know. like in those books." Qwen winced.
"They were books, Jack. Fiction. Like I just said, I've seen such what human nature really is, and I know that if those are real freaks, they are living in cages." Her eyes were sad.
"How do you think?" Jack inquired, crossing his arms.
"People want to be free, yeah? From Lizard people to immortal men, who actually wants to devote themselves fully to one director? We know that person whats money. Why else would you showcase freaks? The people won't stay so you put them in a cage."
By that time, their coffee had arrived and Jack sighed, resolved. "So I guess I can't change your mind?"
Qwen sighed. "I'd feel so powerless. I'm sorry." She let her eyes fall from his and sipped her hot coffee.
"I guess I'm going alone then." Jack said morosely.
"Wait, your still going?" Qwen said quickly, the coffee in her mouth almost slipping back past her lips and down the front of her shirt.
"Yeah. I just feel I have too. Adventure and all." He said, giving her a cocky smile.
"Jack Harkness, your going to be the death of me." She said, sighing for what felt like the millionth time that day.
"Oo, I hope not," He said, clasping her shoulder then sipping his own coffee. "Your not Immortal."
"Ha ha, but really. Take care of yourself. Don't go killing yourself on purpose." She said as they exited the shop.
"Do I ever?"
"How would I know If you did?"
"Good point."
Sighing, she looked down. "I guess I can't talk you out of going?"
"Nope."
"Take care of yourself Jack. Don't let your freak side show were the owner can see it." Qwen said giving him a hug.
He chuckled. "I won't," he promised as they parted and he patted her shoulder.
"Goodbye," she said as she turned and walked the other direction.
Jack played with the Idea of not going, but immediately threw it out. It was a once in a lifetime chance. He had to take it. He just hoped that ignoring the feeling in his stomach wouldn't end up getting him killed.