Disclaimer: Not mine. It's very sad, I agree. If it looks familiar, it's because it's also on LJ and Teaspoon.
Chapter Summary: Rose and the Doctor think they're alone – but Jack is in the medical bay, and the blue custard took its chance.
Epilogue: Wanting Forever
"I don't trust this," said Rose, eyes half closed, head resting on the Doctor's arm. She lay facing him on the apple grass, her fingers loosely gripping his coat lapel; he stroked her hair, which also allowed him to pull her closer in if necessary. It was a thousand hours since they'd last spoken, or felt like it, and the Doctor had no wish to check on how long it'd been. His arm wasn't numb yet, and Rose hadn't declared herself hungry, so he was content to stay exactly as they were.
"Trust what? The garden? The Tardis?"
"The future," she said. "How do I know you won't send me away again, if you think it's what's best? It's what you do."
"Is not."
"Well, maybe not send people away, but you make decisions for them without asking. All your stories, they always end with 'I never saw her again'."
"That's how all stories end, really."
"What about 'happily ever after'?"
"Where's the fun in that? If you were happy all the time, how would you know you were happy?"
Rose smiled. "What happens now?"
"Oh, now. Now we lay here for a bit, at least until your stomach growls, as it tends to do at inopportune moments, or the Tardis informs us that Jack is awake, which I'm sure will also occur at an inopportune moment. I think we may want to keep Jack near for a few days, check his vitals, make sure we washed the blue custard off in time, but really, I'm not too worried about him. Then I was thinking we've not had nearly enough adventure recently, and we ought to stock up, so perhaps Fespa?"
"You promised me Will Shakespeare."
"So I did. Shakespeare it is, then. Any particular play, or pilot's choice?"
"Oh, pilot's choice. I'm curious which you'd want to see."
"Which do you think?"
"Tempest or Hamlet. Tempest because it was his only original play, and therefore interesting, or Hamlet, because I think you like the idea that there's someone less decisive than you."
"Oi, I'm very decisive."
"Of course you are."
"You were only just now complaining that I make too many decisions."
She kissed his nose. "If you stop talking, I can hear the vines move."
He stopped talking. For fifteen seconds.
"Rose?"
"World record silence there."
"How long are you going to stay with me?"
She smiled again, closing her eyes and burrowing her head into the softness between his arm and chest.
"Forever."
LINE
Jack smiled in his sleep.
Forever.
It was good, he thought, if he couldn't have Rose – and he'd always known he couldn't have Rose, from the moment he'd met the Doctor, he knew, even if they didn't – then it was good that the Doctor did have her. Rose was too good to waste on anyone who wasn't either of them.
He was sure the conversation had been part of his dream, just below the surface of waking. A little play before his mind. He couldn't move the characters, not really, he'd just sat and enjoyed them, not really watching, just listening. It was sweet, really, the way they moved from gentle ribbing to sweet words and back again.
And he had no doubt that when he did wake up fully the Tardis would let them know, and they'd spring up from their repose in the garden to check on him. He almost understood Rose's aversion to the medical bay now, so he let himself slip a little deeper into sleep. It meant he no longer had Rose and the Doctor's (imagined?) conversation in his mind, but at least it let them rest a little longer. He didn't want to disturb them so soon.
Forever.
The word hadn't frightened him at first, the first time he hadn't died. He thought forever would be useful. And it was – it gave him the courage to leap into the unknown, save Mickey's life, save Rose for the Doctor, save the Doctor from himself. If forever meant that his friends would survive, then it was most likely worth it. Some days, Jack wasn't sure. Forever stretched into infinity too easily, and someday, even the Doctor would die. Jack didn't like the idea of seeing the Doctor die. Rose had seen it, once. She still bore the scars of it, living in fear of the next regeneration.
He slept.
The movement woke him, but not entirely. He could hear soft giggles and shushes from the far end of the room, which was dark, save for a light near his head. He wasn't quite awake, just on the edges of it, so he kept silent rather than make them feel as though they'd woken him.
"We'll wake him."
"He's fast asleep, he won't wake for hours. I only need to find the cellular disrupter, fell out of my pocket somewhere."
"Are you sure he won't wake up?"
"You were out for four days running."
"But I didn't have me to wash the custard off."
"Well, perhaps I slept a little too then."
"You never sleep!"
"I do, just not much. And I slept then. He won't wake until tomorrow, at least."
"He'll be starving."
"Then we'll feed him. Plenty of prawn mayo for all."
"Oi, leave my prawn mayo out of it."
"He's not laying hands on my coronation chicken."
"Better not, your coronation chicken's mine."
"The cheek on her!"
Rose giggled softly, and they fell silent. Jack breathed, listening for the next bit, knowing it was coming.
"Rose – Jack's sleeping."
"I know," she whispered. "We should let him sleep."
No, thought Jack, not wanting them to go. He didn't want them to slip from his mind again. The warmth in their voices was too comforting.
"Rose – what do you want?"
Rose didn't answer right away – Jack would have liked to see her face then, but he knew if he opened his eyes, he'd wake.
"I showed you, earlier. In the garden."
"That's pictures."
"Worth a thousand words, they say."
"I only want three. No, five. No, wait – eleven. Yes, eleven."
"Eleven?"
"No more, no less. Eleven words from your lips."
"All right, let me think. Eleven words. So if I say I love you, that's three."
"But they don't answer the question, really, do they? I asked what you want, not who you love."
"It's all part of it. All right. I want – that's two words. I want you to stop giving away my prawn mayo sandwiches. I want Jack to wake up and be better. I want to meet Will Shakespeare. I want Molly and Donald to grow up and be happy and healthy and well, and I want Mum to never regret me leaving."
"She won't. And they will. And that's far more than eleven words."
"Shh, I'm trying to decide which is most important."
"Ah, right, carry on."
"I really do want you to stop giving away my prawn mayos."
"I don't think Jack would eat them."
There was a pause. Jack strained to hear them, worried they might have left the room. He didn't know what a prawn mayo was, but it didn't sound good, and he was almost tempted to tell Rose that she could have every prawn mayo in the world, if she would just answer the Doctor's question finally.
"I want to be sure you won't try to send me away, or leave me somewhere," said Rose finally. "Not a request from you. Just – you say you won't, but you've got a track record. I want – no, I need to be sure of it."
"Rose—"
"It's rather more than eleven words."
Jack concentrated on breathing, on staying just under the surface. It was infinitely hard – he desperately wanted to see them.
"I don't know how to make you sure."
Jack knew, but to tell him would have been to wake up. Kissing her wasn't enough. Loving her was. If the Doctor was promising her a forever – well, there was usually only one sort of forever a girl wanted, and most of the time, it was with the clothes off.
Jack heard the Doctor exhale loudly.
"Oh."
"Doctor?"
"Hush," he said, but he sounded surprised. "Just – stay right here."
Jack heard the Doctor come closer to the bed, and he stilled his breath, ready to slip back into slumber if necessary. The footsteps stopped near his head, and he could feel the Doctor lean over the bed for a moment, feeling his pulse, testing his temperature with the back of a hand.
"Jack," the Doctor whispered. "You have a filthy mind. I don't know how you did that, and we'll have to talk when you wake up, but thank you."
You're welcome, thought Jack before he could stop. Time Lord moron.
"Oi," replied the Doctor, not upset at all. "Don't wake up anytime soon, please."
The hand moved away, as did the Doctor, and for a moment, Jack wasn't sure if he was awake or nearly so. He was sure he hadn't spoken – but the Doctor had heard him. No, more than that – the Doctor had known exactly what Jack was thinking he ought to do, to show Rose what he meant.
The door to the medical bay closed, and the room fell silent again, two sets of footsteps fading into the Tardis until they no longer echoed in the still darkness.
Jack felt himself floating, just below the surface of waking, eyes resting closed, the medical bay humming around him. His muscles were still, his heart was steady. He still felt the calm wash over him, the warm comfort of the Doctor and Rose surrounding him, like wool blankets encasing him in a cocoon.
Rose...
Yes?
Do you want to know it?
Know…?
My name.
There was no answer, not immediately, and despite himself, Jack strained to stay with them. There was only the whisper of Rose's smile, the brush of the Doctor's cheek against hers as he brought his lips to her ear, the wind in his breath as he spoke the word not even Jack could hear.
They slipped from him then, as if a gauze curtain had been lowered. Dimly, he could hear their laughter, the soft chuckles and kisses. He could hear the low moan in the base of Rose's throat as the Doctor kissed her there, the rustle and drop of fabric as she pushed the coat off his shoulders, fumbled with buttons and zips and ties. The Doctor was pushing her back – back – and her knees hit the bed, she tumbled backwards into it, pulling him down by his tie, and he joined her there.
Jack almost startled himself awake before he realized they weren't in the medical bay any longer, and he slid down deeper, away from wakefulness, into the darkness of his own mind. Above, Rose and the Doctor still moved and breathed, but partially out of fear, and partially out of respect for them both, he didn't watch or listen. He left them to themselves, and tried to understand why, despite the odd understanding, he felt so suddenly alone.
He fell asleep.
The Doctor and Rose will return
In Part Three of the Crossroads series:
Choices and Chances
