Half Past Gone
This has turned into a cross-over with Torchwood. It has also managed to mutate itself into TenRoseJack. I hope nobody minds (and if you do then it's your problem, really, and I say that in the nicest way possible). It contains references to Torchwood episodes, namely 'Cyberwoman'. If I've gotten any facts wrong, please point them out!
Deine Rachael
Chapter Two
Jack Harkness had thought of all kinds of different scenarios to how he would next meet the Doctor and Rose. Most ended with him having the final say, the closure, being able to walk away with his head held high. They would be the ones clearly guilty for abandoning him; he could finally lay it to rest and move on with his half-life. He knew, though he knew that in reality Rose's sweet smile and the Doctor's charm would have him completely at their mercy. His life wasn't even a half of what it was when he was around those two, completely taken in and considered family (despite his constant hope that it would grow into something more). He couldn't think about that, though. To consider it was to acknowledge his affection for them, that they'd become a unit and he needed, wanted that back. Gwen didn't, couldn't know the answer to her question of 'Have you ever loved anybody that much?'. He had, desperately. But he hadn't told any of them about his past, hadn't explained why he watched so meticulously for any signs of the Doctor from any of the Torchwood bases. Hadn't told them the identity of the blonde girl he kept such a careful eye out for whenever he was fed CCTV footage of the Doctor.
Despite the pain of his abandonment, which would never leave him, he sometimes woke from his dreams expecting to hear the reverberating hum of the TARDIS, and see Rose and the Doctor nearby, their voices washing over him like usual. He still hadn't stopped feeling depressed when the half-awake image faded into his office, the hum not from the TARDIS but from the Hub's computer system.
One scenario he hadn't thought of was heading out of the Hub the morning and finding a delirious Rose on it's doorstep. He crouched next to her, torn between ecstatic joy, anger and contrasting worry. He did consider just turning his back, but he knew that he would never be able to live with himself if he left the woman he had loved (and loved still) alone, and visibly ill. He hadn't expected to see her like this; her dilated pupils showed that she was suffering from a strong drug in her system, adding to her confusion, and his worry. She looked so incredibly fragile she looked like she would crack underneath his fingertips if he touched her - lilac veins so clear they looked like they had been painted on.
"Jack?" Her voice was barely a whisper now, as her eyes trailed slowly over his face. The slowly, dawning recognition mixed with a terrible sadness on the familiar, gentle face.
"That's right, Rosie. It's me"
"No, you're not Jack" Her head shook slowly, weak vehemence in the face of what could not possibly be true to her.
He frowned "I'm not?"
Rose continued in a soft, hopeless tone, choking back the tears that clouded her fuzzy vision even more "Jack's dead. You can't be him, he died" The sentence broke something hard and angry in side of him. He pulled her towards him and picked her up, he weak struggles ceasing after barely a second.
He walked back into the Hub, glad that it waas too early for any of his collegues to be there. It would be hard enough explaining why he was carrying a girl around, nonetheless how he knew her. He jogged into his office and went down into his own quarters and sat down on the bed, watching her watch him with misplaced grief. A smile, too broken to be beautiful, appeared on her face after a few moments, and she leaned forward to lean against him, her muffled voice reaching him from where she had hidden her face in his shirt.
"I wish you were real, Jack" He swallowed hard and blinked rapidly in reply to the heartbroken sentence "I really do wish you were real."
"I am real" He whispered back, but too late. Rose was already asleep.
