There should be one chapter left after this one which is very nearly finished! Would love theories now!

Should I write a sequel to this? I have ideas but wanna know if people like these 'versions' of Ten, Rose and Jack. Press the ickle lilac button and let me know!

Where did we leave it? Oh yes Jack was all deaded...

Chapter Four

"Jack!" The Doctor drops his rifle and drops to his knees beside the other man. "Jack!" He can't die here. Not in the mud of some Sussex woodland. He should never have been here. I put him here. He looks down at his friend. Jack's eyes are shut but his throat is a bloody mess where the bullet has torn through. "Jack…oh…god…"

The other three soldiers are standing near the German's body. Hagman had shot him as soon as his finger tightened on the trigger to kill Jack.

"Go get help!" The Doctor shouts at Perkins, knowing that it is pointless. Jack is already dead. Perkins sets off at a sprint down the muddy track. The Doctor feels tears burn hotly at the back of his eyes. Oh god he will have to tell Rose. She shouldn't see Jack like this, his coat covered in mud, and his shirt and face spattered with his own blood. The Doctor closes his eyes; he can't bear to look at him. Not like this.

Blackness. Blackness. Nothing but blackness. His lungs are burning. Jack's eyes snap open and he gasps deeply for air. Above him the brown eyes of John Smith are staring at him in shock.

"What the?" he says, his accent somehow less posh than normal.

"What the hell happened?" Jack gasps out, his hands going to his own throat that should be a gaping ragged wound. They find nothing but smooth skin. His fingers work desperately around his neck while John gawks at him with wide eyes. "I was dead!"

"What the bloody hell was that?" Harper says in confusion in his soft Irish brogue. "You got shot in the throat! No way a man gets up from that!"

Jack sits up and John's hand is there to steady him straight away, resting on his shoulder blade in a way that seems far too familiar.

"Go back to the truck. Tell Perkins to call off the cavalry," Jack orders the two soldiers suddenly, a firmness in his voice that belies the panic the Doctor can see in his eyes. "We'll follow in a minute."

"But sir…"

"Do it Sergeant."

The two soldiers look at each other then slowly head down the path muttering nervously to one another.

Jack is staring down at the blood splatters on his shirtfront. "I'll ask again, what happened?"

"You lived."

Jack frowns at the mix of wonderment and fear in the man's voice, but he can hear an undercurrent of anger below that. "I lived huh? Just like that?" he can hear a tremble in his own voice.

John Smith frowns slightly. "Yeah," he says slowly, "You must have a guardian angel."

Jack blinks and absorbs this, and one name floats unbidden to his mind. Rose. He shakes the name away. Not now. This man is way too calm about this. He died and came back to life and John Smith treats this like its normal, well normalish. "Who the hell are you?"

The man stands up suddenly and steps away, looking edgy. Jack pushes himself to his feet. "I asked who are you? I died!"

John Smith steps away as Jack advances. "I swear I'm just a soldier."

"Bollocks!" Jack backs him against a tree trunk and stares him straight in the eye. "Are you a Time Agent? Did you do this to me?"

"What? No!"

"You're lying!" he grabs hold of the other man's shoulders and shakes him. "What am I?"

"An abomination." The words are forced out through gritted teeth. "You're wrong. You shouldn't exist. You're dead. You should be dead." Something in his brown eyes softens as he stares at Jack. "I'm sorry Jack. I am. Maybe I'm one of your guardian angels after all."

"If you are then you deserve this." Jack kisses him on the lips. "If not…" He punches the Doctor full force in the stomach. The Doctor doubles over gasping for air. "I'm gonna prove to you that I'm alive!" he stares down at the gasping man. "See you in hell."

"Jack…" the Doctor wheezes at his back as Jack sets off running. He sinks to his knees and tries to get enough air into his lungs. He swallows, feeling the same dizzy feeling he felt in the nightclub. No can't pass out, not now, he thinks as his vision swims. In his ragged out breath a tiny wisp of gold threads its way into the air. Oh no. He puts his hands on the ground and stares at a tree root trying to focus, because he knows what Jack will do to prove he is alive and he can't. He won't let him.

Jack's boots skid on the rough lane and he finally stops, staggers to the ditch alongside the roadway and doubles over. He vomits until his stomach is empty and he is only dry heaving. He doesn't notice the gold wisp escape into the air as he chokes over the ditch, his eyes screwed up tight. His whole body is trembling like a leaf.

I'm not dead. I'm not dead. Time for some thrilling adventures in time and space? He can hear his own voice saying those words inside his head but he can't remember why. It feels like his head is full of cotton wool. Exterminate. The word sends shivers racing up and down his spine and he has no idea why. They're like fragments of something that he's seen or heard. Doctor. They whisper ominously at the edges of his mind. Maybe I'm going crazy. He straightens up and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. If he lets the voices in then maybe John Smith's words will be right. He is an abomination. A freak. He's going to prove he isn't. He sets off running again, chest burning. He knows where she will be. Where she promised him she would be. No playing around now. No more games. Miss Rose Tyler was going to help him feel alive.

She is sat on one of the stone seats beneath the clock tower on the market cross in the centre of Chichester, tapping her high heels against the flagstone underfoot. She touches her immaculately curled hair self consciously, then looks up and spots him. She stands, and smiles at him.

He crosses the space between them in a few long urgent strides and grabs hold of her. One of his hands goes behind her head and one round her back and he kisses her deeply and fiercely. Hard enough to hurt her. She finally wrenches herself free and stares at him.

"What the hell Jack?"

He doesn't answer her. Just stares at her, his blue eyes haunted.

"What is it?" she presses. Then notices his appearance. His coat is caked in mud and his blue shirt is splattered in red. Blood. "Jack is that blood? Are you hurt?" She urgently pushes the collar of his shirt aside to look for the wound. Her fingers find nothing but skin. Jack closes his eyes at her touch. The warmth of her fingers on his skin. I'm alive, he tells himself silently.

"Jack talk to me." There is more worry in her voice than he would have expected. "Are you hurt somewhere else? Is this your blood?"

"Yes it is." He opens his eyes and gazes into hers. Her eyes are wide and fearful. But not of him, for him instead.

"You're shaking," she says taking hold of his hands and squeezes them. "What's wrong? You can tell me."

He suddenly steps back and she sees in his eyes as the soldier he is playing takes over again. "You wouldn't believe me ma'am."

She slaps him hard in the arm. "Don't ma'am me Captain Jack Harkness! You tell me right now or I swear I'll…"

Jack steps forward so his body is pressed against hers. "You'll what?" he asks softly looking down at her.

"Just tell me," she says worriedly, ignoring the proximity. "No one kisses someone like that unless they're dying or something."

He snorts. "Fat chance."

"What?" She is frowning at him.

"I got shot."

She gasps. "You got shot?" Her hands go to his chest.

Jack captures one in his and holds it to his throat. She can feel the throb of his pulse under her fingers. "Right here," his voice drops to a whisper. "I died. Yet here I am."

"Oh god."

Jack drops her hand and kisses her roughly again. Rose shoves him backwards. "Stop it!"

"Why? I just want to feel like I'm alive." He grabs hold of her shoulders, gripping them tightly. "You know you love me too Rose. I can tell."

"Not like that Jack! Stop it, you're scaring me."

"But Rose…"

"Jack don't. I know you don't want to do this." She backs away from him. "I have to go." She stumbles a few paces in her high heels then wrenches them off her feet and runs in stockinged feet back towards the barracks.

"Rose!" he shouts after her, suddenly aware that other couples in the square are staring at him. "Rose!"

"Jack? What's wrong?"

Lizzie's call stops him in his tracks.

"Have you seen Rose?" he demands dispensing of his usual charm.

She shakes her head. "I got stood up too. John never showed." She purses her lips into a pout.

Jack just nods. "We shot a Jerry today probably a bit rattled."

"How terrible! You're not hurt are you?" she asks seeing the blood and wanting to fuss over him. She reaches for him and he sidesteps her hand.

"I'll live." Yeah I will, he thinks. I can't die. I can never die. I'm a freak, a monster. An abomination he called me. "I really should look for Rose."

Lizzie steps out of his way. "Of course Captain. Maybe you can save a dance for me tomorrow night?"

"Maybe," he says trying to give her one of his charming smiles and fails miserably.

He walks away hurried then starts running again. Lizzie watches him go. Harkness is rattled; she thinks and smiles at his back.

Rose slams open the TARDIS door. "Doctor! Doctor!"

He appears at the doorway of the console room, his uniform covered in mud and blood splashes. "What is it Rose?"

She drops her shoes onto the grating with a clatter and runs to his arms. "Jack." She is crying.

"What did he do to you?" the sudden ferocity in his voice startles her.

"Nothing. Just kissed me. Are you okay?"

The Doctor shrugs slowly. "I'll survive. Takes more than Jack to kill me…" he regrets the words as soon as he has said them when he sees Rose's wide worried eyes. Jack did kill him. Or he killed himself by kissing Jack. Is it suicide by kiss, he wonders? He isn't sure quite how all this fits together yet.

"But he says he came back to life!"

"I know."

"What?"

"He got shot in the throat by a downed German pilot. I thought he was dead then he wakes up right as rain. Scared the life out of me for a second." The Doctor smiles ruefully. "Accuses me of being a time agent, thumps me and legs it off to look for you to 'prove he was alive'."

"Yeah he said that to me too. What caused this?"

"You." The Doctor tries to keep his voice as gentle as possible. "On the Gamestation when you brought him back to life. You just wanted him to live so badly that you couldn't control it. You brought him back to life, forever. You didn't want him to die."

Rose's hands go to her mouth. "I did this? Oh god."

The Doctor hugs her and rests his chin on the top of her head. "You weren't to know. It's only freaked Jack out so much because in 1942 he was truly mortal. Our Jack knows. He must do."

"Why didn't he tell us?" she mumbles against his shirt.

"How do you say that? Just come out with 'Hey guys I can't die. By the way I'm still sexy for a dead guy'?"

He feels her smile against his chest. "What do we do?"

"Nothing tonight. We'll deal with this tomorrow okay?" He kisses her hair. "Come to bed?" he asks softly.

She looks up at him and smiles. "Okay Flight Lieutenant Smith if that's an order?"

"Oh it is," he murmurs dipping his head to kiss her.

Outside Jack frowns deeply at the TARDIS and crosses his arms. Something feels oddly familiar here. The police box hums with time energy. His vortex manipulator's readings are off the scale.

It was such a shame; he'd genuinely liked Rose. But she was one of them. A Time Agent. And however pretty she was, it didn't matter one jot. All those tiny hints and the not-quite-belonging thing all made sense now. His hand drops to his service revolver at his side and he rests his hand on its butt. He feels a little bit sick as though the thought of what he has to do is suddenly repugnant. But he won't go back. Never ever. Such a pity. He doesn't want to kill her but he will to stay free. Why were the good looking ones always evil?

He takes a deep breath and walks back out from behind the storage sheds where the ship is parked.

"Until tomorrow night Rosie," he says softly, blowing a kiss in the direction of the TARDIS and walking away.