Chapter Thirty-Three

Jack remembered his first visit to Reylar. He had been on the TARDIS less than twelve hours when the Doctor – then a gruff and somewhat intimidating Northern presence – landed them near the ocean that sparkled under the sun and let a young, fragile Zoe use his arm as support.

Jack hadn't known them then. He hadn't known Zoe was coming off the back of a week spent being tortured on Tolandra, and he hadn't known that the Doctor was a Time Lord – that piece of information unearthed over dinner that had left him hot and cold and uncertain as he stared at an actual Time Lord who was nursing a beer and a knowing smile. All he had known at the time was that he was on the precipice of something important, knowing that the Doctor, Rose, and Zoe somehow signalled the start of a new phase of his life, even if he didn't exactly know how.

Since then, Reylar had become a fairly frequent destination due to Zoe's therapy sessions that the Doctor insisted on taking her to and waiting around like a nervous father while Jack and Rose use the time – hours and days if it – to discover the city of Thren where Yatta's offices were located. He knew where the best place to get breakfast was – down by the wharf in a small shack lodged between cleaner, fancier buildings where the owner was an old one-eyed woman who seemed to be waiting for him and Rose to get married; he also knew the best viewpoints to go to get a full panorama of the city – top of an accountancy building in the centre of the city where security guards didn't like people going.

He knew Thren better than he knew London.

In many ways, Thren felt more comfortable to him than anywhere else he had visited.

Yet, today, he found his mouth dry with nerves and his stomach fizzing with a desire to be anywhere but there.

"Here, let me –" Mickey's hands fussed over his legs, smoothing a non-existent wrinkle from the material before tucking it beneath his thighs. Jack watched the top of his head, amusement helping to distract him from the anxiety building in him. "Are you sure you're warm enough? The weather looks like it's goin' to turn."

Above Jack's head, Zoe sighed, impatience threaded through it, and he rubbed his fingers across his mouth to hide his amusement.

"I'm fine," Jack assured him, enjoying being on the receiving end of Mickey's fussing nature. "Between the heated blanket and the thermals you've made me wear, I'm nice and toasty. Besides, look –" he removed the small hot water bottle and gave it a shake. "Got one of these too. I don't know why it looks like a panda but I like the whimsy."

Mickey frowned. "Where are your pain meds again?"

Jack doubted he was the only one who heard Zoe's muttered grievances.

"In my bag," he said, patiently. "The purple one you checked two minutes ago. I really do have everything."

Turning on his heel, Mickey glared at the Doctor who, until that moment, had been entertaining himself by attempting to tickle Lorna's feet. At the sight of Mickey's glare though, he dropped his young friend's toes and blinked, plastering on a pleasant smile.

"Yes?"

"Why didn't you park the TARDIS inside the office?" He demanded. "You park inside all the time but now you've decided to make Jack walk to where he needs to go?"

The Doctor opened his mouth, closed it again, head tipping to one side as a frown appeared. "How am I in the firing line here? I just did everything I was told to do, which – as Sarah Jane so rudely pointed out earlier – is very unusual."

Sarah Jane looked up at the bright blue sky and smiled.

"It's too far," Mickey decided for the fifth time. "We should –"

"Mickey." Reaching the end of her patience, surprising Jack with how long she had gone without interrupting Mickey, Zoe cut him off. "He's fine. We're literally just going down the street. I go into this building on a very frequent basis and have never had any problems. You've got nothing to worry about."

"Didn't you trip over a plant once?" Rose asked, sitting on a bench between Sarah Jane and Jackie, boredom etched onto her face. "Sprain your ankle?"

The tip of Zoe's tongue touched her teeth as her eyes turned an unimpressed look in her sister's direction.

"One plant that snuck up on me, yes." She deliberately turned away from Rose, who grinned at the side of her head, and focused on Mickey. "But that won't happen here because one, Jack's in a wheelchair; and two, I'll be with him all the way to Yatta's office. I promise I'll throw myself in front of any dangerous plants to protect him."

"Stop takin' the piss," Mickey said. "This is a serious thing."

"I am taking it seriously but you're worrying too much," Zoe replied. "Reylar is safe. No one's coming after him because we took care of that, and you fussing around him like a first-time father is weird and just plain annoying."

"Mickey," Jack said, slipping into the conversation easily as he saw an argument begin to brew between them. Zoe's desire for a return to normal with Mickey had yet to be granted as she seemed to draw the bulk of his ire for reasons no one quite understood, and he doubted even Mickey knew why Zoe was the one bearing the brunt of his worry and fear. "She's right. I love that you're worrying, it's really sweet, but I'll be fine. Zo will be outside the room until I'm done, and then we'll come and meet you for the ice cream I promised Lorna."

"I want all the flavours," Lorna declared from her seat on top of the Doctor's shoulders, hands sunk in his hair like it was a set of reins. "Chocolate and strawberry and banana –"

"Excellent choice," the Doctor agreed, holding her in place with his hands looped around her ankles. "Banana is, as we all know, the superior choice."

"C'mon, Mickey," Rose said from her seat. "Let's go. Quicker they go, quicker they come back. "I want to show Mum an' Sarah Jane the – oh, no, what's it called again? That fog that looks like a rainbow?"

Unhelpfully, the Doctor rattled off a long, incomprehensible name in the local language.

She rolled her eyes. "I want to show them the Rainbow Fog, an' we'll miss the boat if we stay for much longer."

"Go on," Jack said, reaching out with his foot to tap Mickey's shin. "The Rainbow Fog is actually really nice. I saw it my first time here and don't regret it."

Mickey's face worked through a series of complicated emotions before his shoulders slumped in defeat. "Fine."

"Excellent." Gripping the handles of the wheelchair, Zoe began to push. "See you all later. Don't let the Doctor buy me banana ice cream."

"Wait!"

"What now?" Zoe exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air, frustrated. "We're going to be late, and I hate being late. You've fussed over him, you've made sure he's got what he needs, and I'm more than capable of looking after him for an hour or two, so what now? What more could you possibly want?"

Mickey threw her a foul look filled with annoyance before bending over Jack and kissing him softly, murmuring to stay safe and not to find any trouble, a sentiment that had Jack smiling against his mouth.

When he stepped back, he gave Zoe a small, mocking bow. "You can go now."

"About fucking time," she muttered, pushing a laughing Jack past him. "Bugger off and look at the Rainbow Fog. Try and find a better mood at the same time."

He swore at her before watching her take Jack to what he hoped was the first of many therapy sessions with Yatta. It was difficult to let Jack out of his sight for the two hours the session was going to take, his stomach twisting itself up into knots as his mind threw various, unpleasant scenarios at what might happen to Jack in that time even with Zoe looking out for him. The Time Agency might have been taken care of but there was still Zoe's mystery man on the loose and whatever other enemies the Doctor had scrounged up in his ten centuries of life.

Anything could happen.

"Well then," Sarah Jane said, standing and stretching. "This Rainbow Fog sounds delightful. You say we have to take a boat to get to it?"

"We've got to pass through the Waterfall of Remembrance too," Rose said, bouncing to her feet and helping Jackie up. "It's like this really big archway thing made of yellow water. When the sun hits it just right, it looks like gold. It's pretty cool."

"Yellow water?" Jackie asked, sceptical. "It's not –?"

"No, Mum, it's not piss."

The Doctor rocked back on his heels and laughed, Lorna tugging at his hair.

"Come on then, one and all," he said. "Sooner we see Rose's improperly named Rainbow Fog, sooner we can have ice cream."

"Ice cream, ice cream, ice cream," Lorna chanted, happy and excited.

Aware that his friends might choose simply to drag him along if he remained standing where he was for much longer, Mickey stuffed his hands in his pockets and reluctantly turned from the sight of Zoe and Jack walking down the pavement. An arm slipped through his, and he looked down to be greeted by Rose's smile, her cheek pressed against his shoulder, and some of the worry ebbed from him.

Down the street, as they entered into the shade the buildings cast, Jack picked at the loose threads of the grey throw over his lap and tilted his head back so as to speak to Zoe.

"He's just worried," he said. "He doesn't mean to be annoying but him letting me out of his sight at the moment is a little difficult. I can't even take a shower in peace right now without him hovering in case I fall."

"I know," Zoe said, her cheeriness a direct contrast to her annoyance that Jack belatedly realised had been put on for show. "But it'll do him good to have a bit of time away from you as well. He's actually reminding me a lot of the Doctor right now. After the Doctor came for me when Reinette died, I needed a lot of looking after but it got to a point where his fussing began to feel smothering. He poured so much of himself into making sure that I was okay that he forgot to look after himself in the process. I don't think Mickey realises how tired he is right now. I'm kind of hoping he has a nap while you're busy."

"Yeah, I don't think he's been sleeping much," he admitted, rubbing his eye. "Whereas I think I've been sleeping toomuch."

"No such thing when you're recovering."

"I feel bad though," he said, looping some of the stray thread around his finger and tugging. "I feel like I've barely spoken with Sarah Jane. And I've only chatted with Jackie twice, both times I fell asleep on her. Not to mention Lorna."

"No one cares," Zoe assured him. "We're all just happy to have you back. Besides, Lorna's got the run of the TARDIS and a bunch of adults who are happy to play with her. The Doctor and I took her to the Bubble Room early this morning and we spent a few hours bouncing around there trying to catch everything." A smile pulled at Jack's mouth at the thought of it. "And she's been talking about this ice cream ever since you mentioned it the other day, so I think all sins will be forgiven then."

Jack laughed, a cough rattling in his chest that built its way up his throat, choking him. His hands gripped the sides of his wheelchair, the pressure in his lungs making his vision blur and darken, and he felt Zoe's hand on his back, finding the space between his shoulder blades before gently but firmly hitting him to help clear the blockage of phlegm that he spat onto the pavement with a groan of disgust.

"Sorry," she apologised, handing him one of the bottles of water Mickey had packed for him. "I'll try not to make you laugh but I'm pretty funny person." He snorted and nearly started coughing again. She grimaced, his eyes catching the reflection of her face in the window they were standing by. "Right, sorry. No more jokes, nothing even remotely funny."

Jack leaned back, breathless but amused. "I love you."

Her grin softened into a smile, her hand touching the back of his neck. "I love you too."

"When are we taking Lorna back anyway?" He asked as she tapped the wheel lock with her foot, tucking it away, resuming their journey. "Has that been decided yet?"

"After we're finished here," Zoe told him. "It took the Doctor a while but he was able to track down Lorna's family. Her parents managed to escape the attack and were picked up by rescue teams about twenty kilometres away from the town. He spoke to them first thing this morning to let them know she's alive. From what he said, they were pretty relieved."

"I bet," Jack said, quietly. "Did he tell them about everything else?"

"Yeah," she said. "They're not mad, they're just happy their daughter's alive and people have been looking out for her. I imagine they'll have questions later but, well, at the risk of sounding insensitive, we'll be long gone by then."

"A little insensitive," he agreed. "Honest, though."

"Between you and me, I'll be a little sorry to see her go," she admitted. "I kind of like the little gremlin."

Jack laughed, hand pressed to his chest just in case. "That's not a surprise. You get on better with kids than you think. You tend to treat them like small adults who need a bit more supervision, kind of like the Doctor."

A surprised laugh fell from her. "Except I don't need to worry about the Doctor seeing something he shouldn't. There's a surprisingly large number of non-child friendly stuff on the TARDIS and she seemed to find every single bit. Were the chains yours or –?"

"Definitely or," he said. "I haven't had time to pick up new restraints yet, or the need to be honest. Most of my former lovers had their own." His face lit up as they passed into the building. "Oh, exciting, I get to pick out brand new stuff. Do you think Mickey'd be up for it?"

"I actively try not to think about what Mickey might or might not be up for," she told him, seriously. "Morning, Tiama. I love what you've done with your hair. New colour rinse?"

"Tried it at the weekend," Tiama said, patting the hair that grew out from behind her ears and fell over her shoulders in neat curls. "I'm not sure I'm going to keep it. The colour wasn't as bright as I wanted."

Jack eyed the colours. "Did you try lightening your hair first?"

"I'm sorry?"

"If you have dark hair then you need to create a lighter base first," he explained. "Something with bleach in it but make sure you're careful when you buy it, you don't want your hair to break apart."

Tiama bobbed her head, filing the information away in her mind and grinned at him, warm and welcoming in a way that helped settle his nerves. "Thanks, handsome stranger. I'll keep that in mind. He with you, Zoe?"

"Yeah, we've got an appointment with Yatta." She removed her client's pass and Jack's guest one, handing them over. "How did you date go the other night?"

"No go, they were looking for something different," Tiama said, scanning the cards and inputting information about Jack to make sure the security system registered him as friendly and didn't attempt to launch him out of the lift as had – occasionally – been known to happen. "It's not that I mind it not going well but I was pretty clear about what I was looking for so I don't know why they didn't check my profile more clearly."

"Maybe they just liked the look of you," Zoe said, leaning across the counter, and Jack rolled his eyes. For all that she went on about his flirting, she was just as bad as he was. "But sorry it didn't work out. There's always next time."

"Yeah," she agreed, handing the cards back. "Have a good appointment. You too –" her eyes flicked to the computer screen and then to Jack. "Captain."

"Jack's fine," he assured her, waving as Zoe wheeled him past. "Nice to meet you."

Moving through the security checkpoint that beeped a reassuring green at them, they made their way across the polished floor and into a glass lift that reminded Zoe of Willy Wonka's chocolate factory. She scanned their cards across the entry pad and their floor number appeared above their heads as they slid into a slow, smooth glide up to the top of the building where Yatta's offices lay. Jack peered out of the glass lift and looked out over the sparkling blue sea, imagining the others enjoying the same boat ride he had taken a year earlier. He hoped Mickey was finding it in himself to either enjoy himself or sleep.

"You must hate this," he said.

"What?"

He rapped his knuckles against the glass. "Giving you a spot of vertigo, is it?"

"I've found focusing on the horizon helps, but thanks so much for reminding me," she said, dryly. "I can't imagine why I volunteered to come with you today."

"You didn't so much volunteer as tell everyone how it was going to be," Jack said with great fondness. "And I appreciate it."

"You can shut up, like I was going to let anyone else do this." The doors pinged and she hurried out. He was treated to a graceful pirouette and some French swear words when she remembered him, doubling back to grab his wheelchair with an easy grin. "Not a word."

"My lips are sealed," he promised.

Yatta's offices were nothing like what he was expecting. His experiences of therapy came from mandated sessions with therapist associated with the Time Agency; the sessions usually took place in a bland room with cameras pointed at him to measure his vitals and record his facial expressions for analysis at a later date. Little thought had been given to his and other agents' comfort unlike Yatta's offices that breathed welcome and serenity as soon as they stepped through the double doors. The rooms were painted a soothing pastel colour and a gentle sound of the ocean was piped through high-quality speakers hidden behind large plants that helped keep the air clean and pure.

Behind the desk near the middle of the room was a large woman wearing a loud and wonderful orange dress that somehow managed to complement the blue hue of her skin. Looking up at the sound of their entrance, Yatta's receptionist and sometime security guard did a double take.

"Zoe, hey," Sonja said, frowning even as she smiled. "Today's not Thursday."

"Yeah, I know," Zoe said, patting the top of Jack's head. "I'm not here for me today. This is my friend, Jack Harkness, he's the one with the appointment. I'm here for moral support and wheelchair pushing duties."

Sonja's eyes fell to Jack. "She doing a good job?"

"Moderate," he said. "She talks a lot."

Sonja laughed and pointed a finger at him. "You, I like you."

He beamed.

"You two may as well take a seat," she told them. "Yatta's running a little late with her current client. Do you mind waiting?"

"Depends," Zoe said, eyeing the clear bowl on the counter hopefully. "Can I have a lollipop?"

"Honestly," Sonja said, amused, holding the bowl out to her and watching as she stuck her hand inside, rooting around for her favourite flavour before changing her mind at the last minute and selecting another one. "Mr Harkness?"

"No, I'm good, thank you."

"You sure?" Zoe asked, unwrapping the bright blue lollipop, cover crinkling as she screwed it up and put it in her pocket. "I always feel great after one."

Sonja set the bowl back down and rested her chin on her head, looking at Zoe as though she had just come to a realisation about something that was going to cause her a lot of amusement in the coming minutes.

"You know that they're laced with a psychoactive drug, don't you?" She asked. "Like, that information has been given to you at a time when you were ready to digest and acknowledge it, right?"

Zoe's mouth froze around the lollipop, tongue already blue, eyes wide. "What?"

Jack twisted and looked up at her. "Have you been drugging yourself all this time?"

She shook her head and looked between him and Sonja. "Why did no one tell me this? I feel this is a thing I should've been told. Sonja, why didn't you tell me?"

"I told the Doctor after your first appointment," Sonja said with a small shrug, smile growing. "I assumed he told you."

Her eyes went wide and then narrowed, a furious expression pacing over her features. "I'm going to murder him when I get home."

"Please don't," Sonja requested. "The fallout would require me to fill out paperwork and interview with the authorities. It's really boring and time consuming to do that."

"Do you have to do that often?" Jack asked, curious.

"More often than you'd think," she said.

He bobbed his head, interested, before turning back to Zoe. "You know better than to eat something like this. What were you thinking?"

"I trusted the Doctor." She pulled the lollipop out and squinted at it, suspicious. "Which, now that I think about it, is the cause of many of my problems." She looked to Sonja, lips blue from the sweet. "May I have an ingredients list, please? I like to be specific when I'm yelling at him otherwise he'll find a get around and that annoys me."

When Yatta emerged from her office ten minutes later, escorting an emotionally exhausted client out with a comforting hand on their back, her eyes fell upon Zoe sitting cross legged on the sofa, slip on shoes resting neatly by Jack's wheelchair, pouring over the ingredients list with her glasses tipped off the edge of her nose. It was hardly the most unusual thing she had come across Zoe doing – that remained her attempt at juggling that ended in a sprained ankle, a mild concussion, and a lecture about using heavy glass paperweights as toys – but it was still unusual to see. Gently guiding her new client towards Sonja, who held out the bowl of lollipops towards him, she turned back to Zoe and the man that she immediately knew was Jack Harkness. Even without the pre-made appointment, she would be able to know it was him based off the years of stories Zoe had told her.

He was exactly as described: devastatingly handsome.

"Hello, Zoe," Yatta greeted, smoothing her jumper out. "Everything all right?"

"I'm being drugged against my will." Zoe peered over the top of her glasses at her, and Yatta realised it was one of those days. "Not sure how I feel about it right now."

Yatta merely nodded. "And who's drugging you?"

"You are."

That took her by surprise. "I am?"

"She's just discovered that the lollipops are laced with a psychoactive drug," Sonja said helpfully from the front desk where the new client paused in the process of taking one. "The Doctor never mentioned it to her apparently." She started when she saw the client removing their hand. "Oh, don't worry, it's nothing bad, just a calmative. Very helpful after exhausting sessions. Go ahead and have one. Here, I think this is sea urchin."

Zoe unfolded her legs and stood up, stretching. "Just put it on the list of things to talk about for next time because I've had a doozy of a week, I'm not going to lie. It's been one thing after another, and Mickey keeps snapping at me, which I get but it still sucks, and Jack was kidnapped, which we definitely need to talk about because that was absolutely awful but –" she released a long sigh and shook her head, smiling. "Hi there."

Yatta smiled. "Hello."

"Good week?"

"Better than yours by the sounds of it," she said. "Do you need an earlier appointment? I can fit you in today if you'd like?"

"Nah, I'm good, but thanks," Zoe replied with a wave of her hand that settled on Jack's shoulder. "This is my friend Jack of the kidnapping fame." Jack waggled his fingers in greeting. "Jack, this is Yatta En-Lei, the woman who's helped put me back together after literally every bad thing in my life."

"Hello," Jack said. "It's nice to finally meet you. I've heard lots about you."

"Good things, I hope."

"Of course," he said. "Zoe sings your praises. Calls you a witch."

"In the complimentary sense, that is," she clarified. "But, never mind me, I'll wait out here and not touch anything I'm not supposed to."

"That sounds very specific," Jack said.

"We've had to implement a few Zoe-specific rules," Yatta admitted. "It's not too bad when it's just her but when the Doctor comes along to wait for her..." she looked at the wall where a scorch mark had once lay. "Needless to say, the rules you think are clear could always use a bit more clarity where Zoe Tyler is concerned."

"Offensive, yet true," she agreed. "I like to touch things."

Jack shook his head. "The Doctor's rubbing off on you."

"Only hold an intervention when I start licking things," she said.

"Duly noted."

Jack squeezed Zoe's hand before placing his on the wheels and guiding himself into Yatta's office, the strain in his arms a testament to how far he still needed to go in his recovery.

The combination of drugs he was taking to ease the pain, help regrow his ear, and fix the various things that Raphio and the others had broken left his body feeling like an empty vessel; the smallest things took the longest time, even going to the bathroom by himself was now a ten-minute ordeal that he refused to compromise on. He understood Zoe's reluctance to accept help after Mondas better now that it was difficult to get himself a glass of water without first mentally preparing himself for it, and it made him all the more appreciative of her company; unlike the others, she let him do what he wanted and only stepped in when his frustration began to peak.

As the door shut behind them and the sounds of Zoe's voice and Sonja's laughter were extinguished when a sound-field was enacted, Jack's nerves returned full force. Despite the fact it was a lovely, spacious office with plenty of natural light and comfortable-looking furniture and knowing that Zoe spent an hour or two every other week in this very room and generally came back from her sessions with a bounce in her step and a grin in the corners of her mouth, it had been years since he had done any sort of therapy. He had wanted to prepare for the session but had been unable to because how did someone prepare for therapy designed to help him come to term with torture and past traumas.

Clearing his throat, he busied himself by bracing his hands on the arms of the wheelchair and lifting his body weight up and over to the sofa. Rather like Zoe, Yatta didn't offer to help; she waited unobtrusively off to the side until he was settled, and only then did she take her own seat.

"Cup of tea?" Yatta offered, tapping a button and a china tea set made an appearance on the table between them through what Jack assumed was a transmat. "Zoe gifted me a set of Earth-based teas to celebrate the birth of my children and tends to keep me nicely stocked whenever she stops by these days."

"That'd be nice, thank you."

"She tells me that in some cultures on Earth there are entire ceremonies based around the making of tea," she said, leaning forward to add teabags to the pot that steamed with hot water. "I've always found that quite interesting. Here we don't have such things with food or drink. For us, those things are necessities in life so why bother making a big deal out of them? We prefer to celebrate those things that bring us joy or grief."

"Like children," Jack said.

Her smile was warm. "Exactly. Do you have children?"

"No." He took a fine-boned cup from her and curled both his hands around it, afraid of shattering it should he drop it. "Not yet."

"I've got seven," Yatta said, and his eyebrows shot up, making her laugh. "Yes, Zoe mentioned that was a large number for your people. Two are from my body, five are from my group, but we don't differentiate here. Children are children are children, no?"

"I agree," he said, sipping his tea that turned out to be ginger. "Busy house though."

Yatta laughed. "You don't know the half of it."

"I bet."

Yatta crossed one leg over the other and brought her tea to her mouth, savouring the taste, before setting it to one side and looking at him "Zoe gave me a general overview of your situation when she called to make this appointment. While the details themselves are rather unique, the actual content is sadly not."

Jack lined his feet evenly together before responding. "I suppose you're used to uniquesituations with Zoe."

Lines appeared on her face when she smiled. "She does present a bit of a challenge when it comes to wrapping my mind around the temporal complexity of her life, but it's been nearly six years now, I'm used to it."

"Good," he said, carefully placing his tea down before sliding his hands over his thighs, a nervous tic he thought he had trained out of himself years earlier. "That's good."

"Why don't you tell me what happened?" Yatta suggested in a manner that led Jack to believe she would be happy talking about tea blends if that was what he wanted. "I'd like to hear about it from your point of view."

"I was tortured," he said, cutting straight to the heart of the matter, deciding that since therapy seemed to have done wonders for Zoe's state of mind, he had nothing to lose by trying it once; if it didn't work, no one was going to force him to keep going. "My past caught up with me and my old friends – colleagues, but people I thought of as friends – they tortured me for three weeks before I escaped with the help of my old partner and found my way back to the others."

Yatta's gaze never wavered. "That must've been a horrible experience. How do you feel right now in this moment?"

"Weak, tired, sick," Jack said, resisting the urge to rub his forehead where a low pressure was beginning to build. "If I'm not sleeping, I'm high on painkillers, which I hate. They always leave me feeling muggy but I don't want to complain because what's the point? I need to take them before if I don't then the pain's unbearable." He rubbed his thighs again. "There was a lot of damage done and the Doctor's not able to fix it all at once. It's why I'm in the wheelchair. I can't actually walk at the moment because of my knees. They need replacing, and he's put in a temporary graft but we're going to a specialist later today to get them sorted properly. The plan's to have me up and moving by Jackie's birthday."

He wasn't sure that was going to be possible and he hated it.

He had been looking forward to her birthday since Christmas.

"That sounds incredibly difficult to experience," Yatta said.

"It's definitely not the best I've ever felt," he admitted. "Not the worst either, surprisingly." He lifted his tea to his mouth and took a bracing mouthful, the silence of the room broken only by the clink as he set the cup down once more. "And, before you ask, my mental health isn't great, but I'm sure you know that because why else would I be here? If I wasn't given things to help me sleep, I wouldn't. I was having nightmares before this happened anyway and I'm worried about sleeping unaided because of what I might see and what I might do."

"What do you mean by that?" She asked, looking at him even as she made small, barely noticeable notes on an e-pad built into her chair. "'What I might do'."

Jack looked out the window. "At Christmas...I hurt Mickey my – my boyfriend. He wasn't then but he is now, and I didn't mean to. I was having a nightmare and he woke me up. I –" his hand flexed. "I choked him before realising what I was doing. I worry about that happening again, especially now we're together. There's more of a risk of it happening."

Yatta listened and Jack understood why Zoe liked her. There wasn't even a suggestion of judgement or condemnation in the air, only quiet understanding and acceptance. He felt some of the tension begin to ease from his shoulders.

"There are ways to deal with that," she assured him. "Ways that'll make you and Mickey feel safer sharing the same bed if that's something that you want. For now though, I feel that maybe recent events aren't truly what's causing you grief right now. Would you say that's true?"

"Obviously they're a factor," he said. "I don't enjoy being tortured."

Her mouth curved.

"No one does. What I mean is that when I normally help guide clients through accepting what happened to them and finding peace, the torture aspect is predominant in their minds and feelings." She tapped her fingers against the armrest. "When most are tortured, the feelings of helplessness generated by the situation tend to frighten people. Being so completely out of control can lead to feelings of weakness and a lack of safety. It's often a sharp, unpleasant reminder that you're not always safe. Listening to you speak though, I don't get that same feeling."

"I suppose I've always known that," Jack said with a small shrug. "The Time Agency trains us to know that, at any moment, we could be killed or worse. It's not the first time I've been tortured. The pain's always annoying but I suppose it doesn't bother me, not that much."

Yatta made a small, interested sound in her throat. "And what does bother you then?"

Jack opened his mouth only to close it. He wondered how much Zoe had told her about him, what elements of his life she had mentioned to Yatta in order to prepare her for the session, and his chest crawled with discomfort.

"Raphio..." his mouth turned dry, heart squeezing painfully. "He told me some things about what I'd done."

"Things that took you by surprise?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "I – er – I'm missing some memories. Two years' worth. I always thought that the Agency had taken them from me for whatever reason but now I know I took them from myself. I don't know why, not really. Raphio said I'd destroyed the Agency, killed people to do it, but I don't know why I did it. No one told me why."

"If you don't remember, how can you be sure that you did what they said?" She asked. "Forgive me, but the people who chose to hurt you can hardly be considered reliable."

His mouth twitched. "Agreed, but my partner said it too. He's the one who broke me out of prison, got me to safety. Him I trust. He verified what the others told me. Said it'd break my heart if I knew what I was missing."

"I suppose the truth, right now, isn't relevant," Yatta said. "What is relevant though is how you feel about these missing memories. What do you want to do about them?"

Jack rubbed his mouth and frowned at his feet.

That was the question that had been on his mind since he woke up in Hong Kong without a clue.

"I think..." he began, testing the idea out in the safe space of Yatta's office where he wouldn't be beholden to anything should he change his mind later. "I think I want them back. For better or worse, they're mine. I need to know what I did and why I did it."

"Even though you allegedly took them from yourself?"

He swallowed and nodded. "Even though."

"Okay then," Yatta said, a soft smile warming him through. "Then that's where we start."


The Doctor fought a yawn as he opened the door to his bedroom. The last few days had been a lot, and now that Lorna was back where she belonged with parents who were overwhelmed at seeing her again and Jack recovering nicely from his knee surgery, he was ready to fall into bed for a few hours of deep sleep. His plan came to an abrupt stop though when he found Zoe sitting cross legged in the middle of their bed folding clean laundry. The general upkeep of their lives had fallen to the wayside during Jack's absence and they were slowly getting themselves back together. The kitchen was getting cleaner the more time Jackie spent in it, and he might have felt guilty about her cleaning up their mess but she seemed to enjoy herself as it gave her the opportunity to cheerfully complain about his household management skills.

"Hey you," Zoe said, smiling at him as she folded a pair of his boxers. "Jack all tucked away?"

"With his devoted nurse at his side," the Doctor said, shutting the door behind him and shrugging out of his coat. He hung it up on the coat hanger Zoe had installed a few weeks ago, wielding a drill in a manner that made his hearts flop with worry as he wasn't entirely sure she had known what she was doing. "Mickey missed his calling."

She laughed. "Make sure you tell him that. He can snap at you instead."

"He doesn't mean it."

"I know, I know," she said, clucking her tongue when she came across one of her T-shirts that had been placed in the wash inside out. "How did the operation go?"

"Really well, actually." The Doctor left the door to the bathroom open so he could speak with her clearly, peeling off his clothes that felt uncomfortable after a long day's use. He lifted the lid of the toilet seat up with his foot, taking care of the most pressing business first. "The surgeon had to completely replace both knees. It wasn't just from the torture but he's had a lot of wear and tear on them over the years and they would've needed replacing anyway, we just got ahead of the game."

"That's good," she said. "What's recovery looking like?"

Flushing the toilet and washing his hands, he turned his attention to his hair. "Well, he won't be dancing anytime soon. We're going to have to take it nice and slow for at least a month while everything sets into place. I was thinking we could head back to London sooner rather than later to make sure we've got at least a week of peace and quiet before your mum's birthday."

"That's a good idea." Zoe frowned, one striped sock in her hand but the other one missing in action. "Although, so much for your plans."

"My plans?"

"Of celebrating my thirtieth on my actual birthday," she said with a grin, finding the sock in the pocket of her freshly washed jeans. "What's the saying? Make a plan and God laughs?"

"Something like that," the Doctor said, running a comb through his hair and deciding he needed to spend some time in the morning attending to it as it felt dry and dirty. "But, no matter, you're thirty when you're thirty, which is tomorrow as a matter of fact."

She laughed. "Is it really? That's the definition of sneaking up on me."

Brushing his teeth quickly, he emerged from the bathroom in his boxers and knelt on the bed, leaning over to kiss her. She hummed against his mouth, a smile stretching.

"Sorry it won't be a better birthday," he apologised, kissing her again before pulling back. "I had plans. Good plans, great plans, but plans no more."

"It's really fine," Zoe said with a wide smile, eyes dragging over the bare expanse of his shoulders and back as he searched for his pyjamas. "I appreciate the attempted effort but Jack's safe and sound, that's all that matters to me. Let's not make a fuss tomorrow. We can celebrate it on the normal day since we'll be there with fish and chips or something. See if Harriet's free to come along too."

"Sounds like a good idea," he said, shimmying into his pyjama bottoms and reaching for his shirt.

"Nope."

"I'm sorry?"

"Leave the shirt off."

His curious gaze turned interested, and she pressed her lips together to hide her grin, failing miserably. A waggle of his eyebrows was enough to set her off and she laughed, throwing the balled up socks at him. Snatching it from the air, he launched it back at her, bouncing it off her forehead, her laugh deepening when he tackled her to the bed and rubbed his stubble against the soft, sensitive skin of her neck.

"No, wait, the washing!"

"Can be washed again," he reminded her, nipping at her jaw, enjoying the way her body wriggled beneath his. He pressed one knee on the bed between them and caught her hands, lifting them up by her head, holding them in place. Her grin was a wide, infectious thing and he felt himself grinning back at her. "Got you."

"It seems that you've caught me," Zoe said, eyes dancing with delight. "Whatever are you going to do with me?"

"I've got a few ideas," the Doctor told her, lowering his head and kissing her, eyes closing and body melting against hers. Zoe, at the end of a long, hard road, was the perfect balm to his troubled mind. "Are you tired?"

"Not for this," she said, softly, pressing her wrists against his hold and he immediately released her, rewarded with one hand in his hair and the other sliding across his shoulders, hauling him closer. "Never this."

He caught her mouth and used his hands to inch her baggy jumper off of her, enjoying the slow, dragging reveal of her skin, pausing when the material was bunched under her breasts to ease himself down and press his nose into her abdomen near the swimming pool-inflicted scar that he enjoyed tracing with his tongue. Her muscles twitched under his mouth, the warmth of his breath making the fine, barely noticeable hair that covered humans stand up on the back of tiny bumps that rippled across her smooth skin. A press of his teeth against the surface made her hips twitch, thumb swiping across his forehead, her fingers tightening in his hair, breath coming with a little more difficulty.

"Stop it," she grumbled.

"Stop what?"

"Teasing me," was the complaint he expected. "It's been days."

The Doctor huffed a laugh against her skin. "So needy. Have I been spoiling you?"

"Not spoiling," Zoe said, running her fingers through his hair, comfort and pleasure spooling through him. "More getting me accustomed to a different quality of expectation."

His laugh turned louder. "Is that your way of telling me I need to have sex with you more often?"

"Well, if you insist," she said. "Get up here. It's difficult to kiss you down there."

"I find it rather easier to kiss you down here actually," he told her, nudging at the line of her leggings with his nose and her reaction pushed him onto his back, the ceiling above her. "Oh, hello. Fancy meeting you here."

Sitting astride him, Zoe rid herself of her jumper and bra in two swift, practiced movements before leaning over him, hair creating a cocoon of privacy. The Doctor's mouth opened under hers, hands sliding up her back, enjoying the smooth expanse of her skin and the way her muscles shifted under his touch, the heat of her body warming his. Tasting the orange she had eaten an hour ago, he tried to chase it back into her mouth, her thumb rubbing over one of his nipples, his hand slipping down to hold her more firmly against him when something beeped. Ignoring the sound, the Doctor pressed up against her, dragging his mouth from hers to let her breathe before kissing her again, arousal dripping through him inch by inch, when the beep sounded once more, distracting Zoe.

"That's not me," she said, sitting up despite his groan of protest.. "Since when do people text you?"

"Your mum, Sarah Jane, Jack but he only texts me dirty pictures even though I've asked him to stop," the Doctor said, pulling himself up so that he had easier access to her breasts, hoping to pull her attention back to him. "You, even though you never text me dirty pictures despite me asking nicely."

Her eyes narrowed in amusement. "You wouldn't know what to do if I sent you dirty pictures. You'd panic and give me a lecture about the dangers of sending pictures like that over an unsecured network."

"I would not," he protested, groaning when she climbed off him, his phone beeping again, a reminder that he needed to throw it into the nearest sun at the first opportunity. Normally Zoe's phone was the one interrupting them but she was better about remembering to put it on silent when they were in their bedroom than he was. "Zo, leave it and come back. We were getting to the good part."

"I'm just putting it on silent, you big baby," she said, dipping her hand into his coat pockets and rummaging only to yank her hand back out and stare at him, aghast. "Do you –? Is there a snake in your pockets?"

"Hortense," he nodded, leaning back with his hands tucked under his head. "Took her from the garden. She's not poisonous, don't worry, just looking for somewhere warm to sleep."

She sighed – a sigh he had come to associate with her fond exasperation of his less-than-human behaviours – and carefully searched his pockets for his phone.

"Got it," Zoe said, triumphantly, face scrunching. "Is that whipped cream?"

"Do you really want to know?"

"Definitely not," she said, tapping in 1234 as his access code that frustrated her every time she used his phone for how simplistic it was. "Someone called Behrouz Tofig- Tofa- I don't know how to say it."

"Tofighian," the Doctor said, the name flowing smoothly from his mouth. "Behrouz Tofighian."

"Thank you," she said, turning the phone onto silent and setting it on the side instead of risking another encounter with Hortense. "They're sending you a mountain of messages. Have you decided to have an affair?"

His eyes rolled. "Your lack of jealousy is a little hurtful."

Zoe laughed, climbing back on top of him. "I'm not jealous because I know you'd never. Who's your new friend, or old friend? Am I about to get the chance to meet another friend of yours? If so, I'd really like it to be Ace."

"Only because she blows stuff up," he said, making space for her. "And he's not a friend. He's a specialist in memory retrieval from the 51st century. He's actually the person who invented the memory wipe that Jack used. I needed to ask him a few questions about the specifications of the machine and it seems he's got back to me, which is very helpful."

A frown crawled onto her face. "Why are you looking into that?"

"Jack talked to me about it while we were waiting for the surgeon to get ready," the Doctor said, brushing his fingers beneath her breasts and down her stomach. "He's decided that he wants to get his memory back and has finally asked for my help to do it. Honestly, I thought he was never going to ask and although I didn't want to push the matter, after what Mickey said about his nightmares, I was worried I might have to. Those memory wipes are foul things and should be banned." His face brightened. "Fun fact, they actually are by the 60th century. Should've done it sooner but you humans are an odd bunch, always willing to take risks when you shouldn't."

"Wait." Zoe sat back up and pushed her hair from her eyes, holding it from her face as she looked down at him, the Doctor realising that something had shifted in her mood but unable to put his finger on what. "You're going to get Jack's memory back?"

He nodded. "That's the plan."

"When were you going to tell me?"

"Round about now, I suppose," he said. "I need your help anyway. He –"

"How?" His mouth slowly closed on the word she had interrupted him on, and he looked up at her. "How are you going to give him his memory's back? My understanding is that they're pressed deep into the hippocampus and that by trying to bring them to the surface, there's the risk that that part of the brain will break."

"A small one," the Doctor said, hands settling on her hips. "And I definitely wouldn't let any doctor have a go, but I've got a good idea of what I'm doing and the technology onboard to stop any damage. I managed to keep your brain nice and squishy, didn't I?"

Zoe rolled off him and stood up.

"This isn't a joke," she said, anger sparking off her and surprising him as she grabbed her jumper and pulling it back on. "Jack's brain isn't a toy you can just play with."

"Hey," he frowned. "Of course it's not a toy. You know I'm not going to do anything that hurts him."

"By messing with his brain, you might just do that." The sleeves of her jumper were pushed angrily up to her elbows and she pulled at the folded laundry, forcing him to roll to the side to let her get at it, and he shifted, sitting on the edge of the bed, confused. "It's better to let the memories come out by themselves. Forcing it is just unnecessary and risks damaging his long-term memory."

"Zoe, I know all this," the Doctor said, wincing when she yanked the dresser drawer a little too hard and it fell to the floor, narrowly missing her bare feet. She swore but he made no effort to help her, aware that when she was irritated she didn't like extra hands getting in the way. "But given what Jack learnt from Raphio, knowing what those two years contain may be the difference between life and death for him. I can't guarantee that no one else is coming after him, and I know you were thorough with your virus but the Papal Mainframe had a hand in his abduction and they've got layers and layers of backup systems for backup systems. I'd rather err on the side of caution."

"This isn't erring on the side of caution," she argued, fitting the drawer back in and dumping the clean clothes inside. She pushed it shut with a loud thud and faced him, hands resting on her waist. "This is opening a yogurt pot by blowing the lid off: unnecessary, messy, and potentially flammable."

"Okay, what's happening here?" He asked, gesturing between them. "This feels like a fight but I don't understand why. What's going on with you?"

"I just think that this is something that shouldn't be rushed," Zoe said. "And if Jack's set on doing it then we need to get an actual, proper professional to do it for him. Someone we vet. You say the memory wipes were banned in the 60th century, right? They must've refined the technology to recover lost memories by then. We go there. I don't think this is something you should be doing."

He frowned. "Is this a lack of confidence in my abilities, or –?"

"You're not actually a doctor, Doctor."

"Well, not the medical kind, admittedly," he agreed. "But you know that's not how it worked back home. My education is definitely comparable with a doctor's, and it's not like you to be a snob about degrees."

"Don't." The word snapped out, surprising both of them with the anger there. Her hand curled into a fist against her chest. "This isn't about your lack of official medical training or whatever. This is about the fact that, historically, Time Lords haven't exactly taken the greatest of care of the human brains in their charge. I'm not saying you would ever do anything to hurt Jack – the thought's never crossed my mind – but I am saying that perhaps some long-buried indoctrination about the inferiority of human brains might create a few problems down the line."

The Doctor's mouth fell open and he gaped at her. "What the hell are you accusing me of?"

"I'm not accusing you of anything."

"It sounds like you are," he said, slow licks of anger beginning to warm his chest. "You just stood there and said that my speciest attitude might hurt Jack."

"I didn't call you a speciest," Zoe said, clipping the words out. "All I said was –"

"Oh, I heard you the first time, love, feel free not to repeat yourself." The Doctor stood and grabbed his own shirt, yanking it on over his head, preferring not to argue with her when he was half dressed. "I can't believe that just came out your mouth. You know me. You know me better than anyone."

Her hand pressed over her eyes before dragging down her face.

"You're deliberately misunderstanding me," Zoe complained. "Your education on Gallifrey reinforced the idea of Time Lord supremacy over all other species, including the uninitiated Gallifreyans. I'm not saying that's your attitude now, of course it isn't, I wouldn't be with you if it was; I'm just pointing out that maybe the person who pokes around in Jack's brain should be the person with the unbiased education."

The Doctor felt the world shift around him, a sensation he associated with arguing with Zoe, and he looked around for something to grab onto. Finding nothing, he focused on her and took in the sharp, stiff lines of her body before his eyes drifted past her and onto her discarded neurobiology journals, a thought flaring to life.

"What's this about?" He asked. "And no evasions this time."

She stared at him. "What?"

He strode past her and grabbed her journals that had post-it notes sticking out of them, scribbled references in her untidy handwriting telling her to cross references with other books and authors. Raising it, he gave it a small shake in her direction.

"Ever since I got back from the Game Station, I've noticed you've picked up an interest in neurobiology," the Doctor said. "At first I thought it was just something you studied at MIT but every time I'd ask you about it, you change the subject. I didn't notice it at first but it's like you're edging around the truth for reasons I don't get, and now you're picking a fight with me –"

"I'm not picking a fight."

"Yes, you bloody are!" Her eyes snapped to him, nostrils flaring in disapproval at the raised tone, and he swallowed it back, immediately remorseful. "What's this really about? And don't palm me off with some rubbish excuse. Give me the truth, Zoe."

"Fine. Fine." She snatched the journal out of his hand and threw it back onto the chair where it came from. "I don't want you to be the one who works on Jack's brain because the last time Time Lords did anything regarding memory repression on a human, that human ended with Swiss cheese for memory retention."

He shook his head. "I don't know what that means."

"Of course you don't," Zoe said, sounding almost disappointed in him. "When you were taken to Gallifrey for your trial, you told me that Jamie and Zoe had their memories wiped, correct?"

"Correct."

"Well, I met Zoe Heriot four years ago when I was searching for a way to save you and Jack," she told him. "I thought an astrophysicist who could give you a run for your money was just the sort of woman I needed to help me. I found her in a care home in New Berlin on Luna. Whatever the Time Lords did to her..." she looked away, rubbing her mouth. "She drifts in and out of her memories. Sometimes she's there, sometimes she's not. Remembering you hurt her, and I don't know if Jamie's suffering the same, I've been too afraid to look. So, I'm studying neurobiology because I want to find a way to help her and fix what your people did to her."

The Doctor remembered Zoe Heriot – it was impossible for him not too; he remembered all of his friends for better or for worse – and the last he had seen of her was as a young woman with her future ahead of her and the ability to change her world at her fingertips. His stomach shifted, nausea climbing through him, as he took in what Zoe was telling him. Slowly, he sat on the chair that contained her books and journals, the sharp edges of spines digging into the back of his thighs, but he ignored the brief pain and discomfort. Zoe remained silent for which he was grateful, the sound of her voice normally a pleasant thing now turned infuriating, and he rubbed his eyes before looking up to find that she had seated herself on the side of their bed facing him.

"Why have you never told me about this?" The Doctor asked, settling his hands on his knees, attempting to reign in his anger at her keeping secrets. "You've had months to tell me. That night you rescued us, you could've told me then. You'd already told me about Liz by that point, why not tell me this as well?"

"Doctor..." his name fell from her on a sigh, eyes shuttering, and anger leaped in his chest that she was tired when he was the one who had been kept in the dark.

"Don't do that," he said, her eyes snapping open. "Don't brush me off. Stop pushing me away. For Rassilon's sake, we share a bed. We sleep next to each other. We talk every single day. At some point in the last few months, you could've found the time to tell me that one of my friends is sick."

"And watch your hearts break?" Zoe asked him. "Watch you spiral into guilt over something you had no control over?"

"I don't need you to manage me," the Doctor snapped. "I can handle my own emotions without you treating me like I'm a child."

"That isn't what I'm doing," she protested, colour slicing across her cheeks. "And what would've been the point in telling you? It's not like you can do anything about it. You can't go riding to save her because there's not enough of her to be saved, at least I don't think so."

"So what?" His laugh sent cold water trickling down her spine. "You were going to save her? Is that what all this neurobiology interest has been about? You wanted to find some way to put her back together? That's what you said, isn't it? You want to fix what my people broke."

"I want to try, yes," Zoe said, sitting up straighter. "But I'm aware of my limitations –"

The Doctor scoffed a laugh. "Don't give me that. If you were aware of your limitations, Jack and I would still be on the Game Station. You're as reckless as I am, the only difference between us is that I'm honest about it. You're a hypocrite."

Anger flashed in her eyes. "Excuse me?"

"Here you are going on at me because I want to help Jack like he asked while you're here learning an entire branch of science to help a woman you don't know because you want to feel superior to the Time Lords," he accused.

"How dare you?" Zoe rose to her feet, anger and offence making it impossible for her to stay still. "Despite what your giant ego tells you, not everyone is eager to claim superiority over the bloody Time Lords. Sometimes it's really just about doing the right thing."

"Which is what I'll be doing with Jack," the Doctor said, cheeks heating from the anger running through him. "I don't need you to tell me what I can do when our friend asks for my help. He came to me, not you."

"So I can't tell you when you're might be acting hastily?" She demanded. "Tell me then, what is it that you want from me in this relationship? Do you want me to go all doe eyed and simpering and all yes, Doctor, of course Doctor." His eye twitched at the simpering voice she put on, her mockery fanning the flames of his anger. "Or do you want an actual partner?"

"I want someone who doesn't lie to me."

"I haven't lied!"

"You certainly haven't told me the truth," he argued, standing and pointing a finger at her chest. "You kept what you found out about Zoe to yourself. You didn't share that with me. That was a decision that you made for me. That's not acting like a partner, that's acting like a carer."

"I knew it would hurt you," Zoe told him. "And I didn't want that to happen."

"Oh, well, congratulations then, job well done," the Doctor said, sarcastically. "Not only am I hurt about Zoe but I also get the added benefit of knowing the woman I love has hidden things from me only to use it as a weapon to make a point."

"That isn't what I did," she said, frustration drawing her hands into fists at her side. It bled over into her body and she turned, heaving an annoyed breath, before looking over her shoulder at him. "What do you want from me right now?"

"Right now?" His mind worked, searching for a solution that would bring the argument to an end but his blood was running hot through his ears and the sight of her jaw set stubbornly and her eyes filled with frustration and annoyance only served to heighten those feelings within him. "Right now I need not to be around you."

She blinked, surprised, and guilt bloomed within him at the sight of the hurt passing across her face before it disappeared.

"Right, okay, fine." Zoe grabbed her phone and her book from her bedside table. "I'll go then."

"Don't bother, I'll –"

"No," she interrupted him, hand held between them as though trying to ward him off. "You haven't slept properly in days. You stay here, I'll go to my old room and sleep there tonight."

"Zoe –"

Exhaustion swept over him, his hand shooting out to curl gently around her upper arm, to stop her from leaving, but she dodged him. Slipping past him, she left their room, and her absence immediately ached. Hollow and exhausted from their fight, the Doctor sank down onto the edge of their bed and let his head fall into his hands, frustration leaking from him now that she was no longer there to stoke it.

"Fuck," he muttered. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck."