Divergence
"Remember, we only need to get to the king," the Doctor summarized and looked around the corner, "If we can make it past the knights and past the ministers, he'll finally find out about the state his country truly is in."
Checking the alley they had entered through just to make sure, Jack replied with a nod, "I sure hope he isn't as oblivious to all this as they say."
The Doctor flashed him that contagious grin of his, "Well, we're going to find out, aren't we?" With that, he picked the lock to the servant's area with the sonic screwdriver and let them in to their next adventure.
As they sneaked their way through the castle, Jack made sure to watch the Doctor's back carefully. Whenever he had just managed convincing himself that the time lord could look after himself just fine, something happened to prove the opposite.
The Doctor had simply passed out on him weeks earlier, but it was enough to set him on edge still, for it had taken the time lord three whole days to even wake up again. They had taken things slowly since then, but Jack could not be sure it would not happen again. After all, their relationship might have enabled it, but in the end the Doctor's consciousness had failed him because he had allowed himself to get lost in the realms of possibilities.
But that knowledge did not make the situation any less hazardous to him. Or rather, to them.
Then again, Jack did not exactly know how to prevent something like that from happening again, either, so he hoped he would see the signs in time and simply kept watching the Doctor as he charmed his way past the one guard they had no chance of avoiding.
"We have an audience with his majesty," the time lord claimed as he offered the psychic paper to the knight in front of the king's quarters, "Please let us through."
"I was not informed of any visitors," the guard replied harshly and glanced at the paper with a suspicious frown. His eyes widened in an instant. "Count Wayne, please forgive me for not recognizing you earlier!" he exclaimed, stepping aside as he straightened his posture, "His Majesty has been awaiting your reply eagerly. Please follow me."
"Thank you," the Doctor replied with a courteous nod and sent Jack an anticipating grin. When they trailed after the knight, however, his expression grew restless. As he met Jack's eyes, he nodded towards the guard, mouthing one word. Caution.
The immortal did not follow his friend's reasoning very often, but that was a message he did not need to be told twice. Quickly making sure the hallway was empty, he tackled the guard and knocked him out in one swift motion. "You better know why I did this," he spoke at last, watching the Doctor expectantly.
"The king is dead, Jack," the time lord explained with an unhappy grimace, "He died an hour ago in the room the guard was leading us to." He watched Jack in obvious worry as he urged him to return to where they had come from, "From the very beginning, we were not a thorn in the ministers' eyes…but the perfect scapegoat for an assassination they had been planning anyway."
Jack's eyes widened. "A trap," he summarized numbly as he kept up to his friend's hurried pace.
"Whatever you do, Jack," the Doctor all but pleaded as he pulled him along, "don't let anybody get close to you."
While they were reasonable enough, the immortal did not miss the actual message behind those words. You'll die as long as you don't do exactly as I tell you.
Obviously, the Doctor was seeing several of those scenarios in that moment. Yet while Jack getting killed would be mildly troublesome, the time lord was facing a more dangerous threat. After all, the Doctor would definitely not recover after a minute as if nothing had happened.
"I'll be careful," Jack promised as they rushed towards the exit, "So don't even think about overusing that vision of yours." Along with those words, he took the lead, even though the Doctor protested.
The door they had entered through was close, and once they would have made it out of the courtyard they would be out of…
"Jack, don't," the Doctor called out to him, pulling him back just in time for the sword that sped through the wooden door to miss him.
All colour left his face, and he quickly reached for his gun. Everything had been quiet until that moment, but all of a sudden, yells from several directions told him that they were outnumbered by far. "You bastards killed the king!" a guard was yelling.
"How dare you!" a cook screamed from the other direction.
As at least a dozen peasants had appeared from all directions, Jack realized they had no chance and slowly lowered his gun. "Listen, we haven't even met your king," he tried telling them, and he sincerely hoped the Doctor would be able to talk their way out of this one. However, he heard no words from his friend…but the terrifying sound of a body hitting the ground.
Just as he turned around to see the time lord's bleeding form on the ground, a pain shot through his body that was even more palpable than the fear he was feeling. Before he knew it, his knees were giving out on him. As he hit the ground, another excruciating twist emanated from his abdomen and he vaguely realized he had been speared.
Now that…was a first.
He felt horrible.
His stomach hurt worse than after a whole week of partying, and his position was not the most comfortable, either.
"Jack, please wake up."
Within an instant, his eyes fluttered open. Not much could get him out of a hangover, but for the Doctor, he would even rise from death itself. Come to think of it…that was what had happened, wasn't it?
"Three days, Jack," the Doctor meanwhile offered tiredly, "You've been out for three days and still haven't healed much."
Dazed and confused, Jack looked down on himself. His wound felt sore and was bandaged, but what did that mean? And what the hell was that uncomfortable chair? "I think I'd be much better if I could just lie on a soft mattress," he commented with a sly grin, "with you, you know."
The Doctor actually smiled a bit before resuming his tired frown. "The chair…" he whispered almost…regretfully, "I couldn't prevent that, and I am so very sorry."
Frowning, Jack tore his tired gaze off the man he loved so dearly to take his first actual look at whatever he had been seated in. If he had been wondering why he could not move much – which he apparently had not up until that moment - he found out now, for both his wrists and ankles were being restrained by strange machinery that looked far too advanced for this kind of medieval planet.
"They call it the Chains of Witches," the Doctor explained flatly, "Several millennia ago, a highly advanced civilization lived on this planet. They did not prevail, but some of their…gadgets persisted." He closed his eyes and took a breath before continuing. "You're trapped in a torturing device even the sonic screwdriver cannot get rid of."
Jack gulped and took another glance at the device. "How did I end up in this in the first place?" he asked slowly, "and why didn't you?" He should probably be thankful for his dazed, exhausted state. He would be far more worried under any other circumstances, but maybe the Doctor's very presence was just enough to reassure him.
On that note, the Doctor seemed to worry enough for both of them anyway. "There was always the possibility that in transferring your energy on to me, you would use up your own resources," he explained discontentedly, "Apparently, you met your limits just as I met mine, and I am so very sorry for that." He looked away, causing Jack to feel just the tiniest bit agitated. "In the castle, both of us nearly died, yet unlike the way it was meant to be, it was me who recovered in an instant," the Doctor reported flatly, "In a streak of genius, the ministers behind the assassination decided to blame you for the king's death while blackmailing me into giving them the secret to immortality."
Only understanding the situation excruciatingly slowly, Jack frowned, "So you're here because you told them?"
The Doctor sent him a blank stare as he leant forward to place a gentle kiss on his friend's forehead. "I realized that this assault nearly killed you and found out what they were planning to use you for," he whispered at a level voice, "Finally, this chair." He paused a moment, and his haggard breathing gave away what his voice so carefully hid. "I'm so very angry right now," the Doctor admitted tonelessly, "Do you really think I could leave anything standing that is responsible for this?"
Jack's eyes widened. He wished he could actually see his friend rather than merely feeling his agitated breathing against his forehead. Then again, maybe he didn't. The immortal felt strangely satisfied knowing his friend was that protective over him. But…
The Doctor had not honestly killed these men, had he? Jack needed to know, but he would have to find out later. The time lord's fury was frightening even to him, and before anything else, he would have to calm down his friend. "Come on," Jack replied, if only to break the horrible silence that had settled, "It's not that bad, is it?"
Again, the Doctor kept silent for a moment. "That chair has been specifically designed to only release a person when their will is broken," he spoke quietly, "There's no key, no backdoor, no safety mechanism."
Jack arched an eyebrow. "So a bolt cutter won't work...?" he offered with a casual shrug that painfully reminded him of the wound in his abdomen.
In spite of his effort, another heavy silence settled.
The Doctor, still so very close to him, gently wrapped his arms around him in a comforting gesture. He placed another kiss on the immortal's forehead and whispered, "You know that I love you, don't you?"
Jack's heart skipped a beat. Of course he knew.
But the Doctor had never said so.
And he loved the sound of it. Maybe what had begun so twisted, what had become so very dangerous…had a future after all?
"But that love…" the Doctor went on quietly, "it's not right. You've become a drug to me, but my instincts are still screaming. I never thought I would even be capable of developing such feelings for you, and…I still don't think I am."
Jack's heart, so excited a moment before, froze in an instant.
"The thing is," the Doctor whispered flatly, "It doesn't even matter anymore what I think and feel in that respect, simply because your emotions, so strong, so passionate, so very alive, are overriding mine every single time." He took a deep breath. "I may love you, but these have never been my own feelings."
Something shattered in that moment, and it was not the shackles dropping off the immortal's body.
Staring ahead, Jack did not see anything. Everything they had gone through together... everything they had done and felt and shared...none of it was real?
Minutes passed, and he could not move a muscle.
"I wish you'd just sawed off my limbs instead," he whispered as the tears ran down his face. Mere minutes ago, he would have given anything to wrap his arms around the man still embracing him, but now that he finally could…he no longer felt any desire to.
"You would not have survived that," the Doctor replied flatly, releasing him at last. "This whole relationship was built on convenient lies," he pointed out in a very quiet voice, "and it produced a kind of love that's more destructive than it is useful."
Shakily, Jack forced his body onto its feet, ignoring the horrible pain in his abdomen. "Don't say that," he demanded, but he did not trust his voice any further. The Doctor had gotten him out of the chair, had he not? So why, for heaven's sake, did he not stop torturing him?
"We're killing each other, Jack," the Doctor went on tiredly, "I don't care about the risk of losing my mind, but I will not be the one to end the one fixed point in time that's alive and breathing and wonderful." The immortal opened his mouth in protest, but the time lord glared him down. "We can't keep this up," he whispered, and his voice almost broke, "We can't." A singled tear left his eye and…it was made of blood.
Jack's eyes widened as his heart cramped.
He numbly watched the Doctor wiping the blood off his face in utter irritation.
So this was it?
Once again the Doctor was losing himself in the maze of his own perception, leaving Jack in a moment as horrible as this. Out of sheer instinct, he managed catching the time lord before he fell, causing the injury in his own stomach to scream in pain.
But he did not even care about the wound anymore...for the horrible despair shaking his very being hurt so incredibly much more.
The entire universe had conspired to bring them together and now…
Amongst all possible outcomes within all of time and space, it would never grant them a happy end?
Note: :((( Of course it couldn't last on the long run, could it? At this point, there's no preventing their ways from parting after all...at least for now?
Once again, thanks a lot to anybody who's been reading, faving, following and/or reviewing this! If you have any comments at all, please let me know :)
