Author's Note: Short interlude chapter. Really looking forward to finishing this story because I'm running out of MUSE titles!
And thanks again for the reviews.

There was a crackling noise above the Doctor; or it had been a sizzling whirr, coming from the hub of the Tardis, because his beloved ship must have realized by now that her pilot had tried to cut himself free from the invisible bond they had shared for so long.
'Probably too long'... the Doctor added to himself and gritted his teeth.

That snappy remark had proven only one thing and that 'thing' made him furious:
He was still alive.
Somehow he must have survived. Or a Time Lord wasn't simply born to commit suicide... or at least, not as easily as bay slitting his own wrist or cutting of his head.
Though he might give the second one a try...

The Doctor's eyes snapped open as his numb fingers reached for his blood stained stomach; he tried to touch the scar, he tried to feel the, until now, open wound; but there was nothing.
Nothing he could feel.
Nothing to touch.
Nothing that would have proven that the last moments, the moments before he'd passed out, had even happened.

No sign.
No...

The Doctor clenched his fists and bit his lower lip to keep his anger locked in; he wanted to scream; he knew that he should have screamed but there was a faint possibility that a vein in his head might rupture and the Doctor wouldn't bother if he wasn't dead right now but in, say, two or three hours; that would be quite fine.

Either way, that damn thing inside of his stomach...
The Doctor flinched as he received a displeased kick.
Alright...either way, that bloody brat could see where this left it; the gloves were off and long lost as well as the Doctor's empathy.

The brat had survived. The bloody brat had survived!
The Doctor couldn't bite back a furious snarl that faded into an unsatisfied growl.

But what did he think?
That they just wait and watch as he ends his life as well as the life of an unborn child?
They controlled his Tardis; they had control over him as well.
And he hadn't even succeeded in killing himself...

The Doctor's eyes snapped open; not that they opened a second time; this time he really pushed back his lids and looked around on the sticky floor.
What really puzzled him were the snivelling sounds.
Someone was crying.

The Doctor crawled around, moving through the half dried blood on the floor and finally discovered a hunched figure, leaning against the console.
He managed to get into a kneeling position and placed a cold hand on the figure's shoulder.

"I'm so sorry, Doctor..." was Jack's voiceless reply. The Doctor stared him in the eye, cold hearted and empty minded.
He had nothing to reply; he was probably too shocked anyway.
And what could have said after all?

"I... I should have know... known," Jack gulped and wiped the tears away senselessly; he couldn't even stop himself from crying.
The Doctor pressed his cold fingers against Jack's cheeks. He eyed him up closely.
And Jack saw two huge black pools of darkness staring back at him.
The Doctor's eyes were as hollow as his heart; as blank as his mind; and as dark as his soul.

"I'm so sorry... so sorry... Doctor," whispered Jack and snivelled.
The Doctor stared at him, unmoved and empty.
And yet, Jack wouldn't stop apologizing.

"I'm so sorry... I should have known... I should have protected you... you... Doctor..."

The Doctor closed his eyes as he felt Jack's stare sagging; he pulled his fingers aside.
"I'm fine, Jack," he kept on lying and wouldn't dare to open his eyes again.
"Really. I'm fine."

"No..." Jack's pleading voice was nothing more but a pitiful screech in the Doctor's ear.
But the Doctor shook his head firmly and wouldn't look at him again; he wouldn't open his eyes, he didn't care about Jack's following apologies, he didn't mind him blaming himself over and over again and he remained unmoved as Jack's voice had trailed off and he could hear him fumbling around in his pockets.

Then there was the shot that caused his eyes to snap open even against his will.

The Doctor grabbed Jack's neck as he was collapsing into his arms, blood covering his face and spreading over the floor as well.
The Doctor embraced his dead friend tightly and stroked his back, knowing that he'd come again to life any minute.

Jack's self inflicted head wound looked disgusting, the Doctor thought; not especially gruesome but as repulsive as every common wound.
But the pool of blood running over the floor was something more... something darker. Something far more beautiful.
It was a symbol for calmness, for eternal piece and silence.
And the Doctor assumed that Jack would have liked the look of it too, when he would have seen that both Jack's and his pool of blood met on the floor, quiet and tranquil, embracing each other in the dignified and just rest.

The Doctor kissed Jack's neck as he stroked his shoulders.
"Oh Jack," he mumbled quietly; he'd finally found his voice again.
"I should have told you, Jack... I really should have... you would have wanted to know it... right Jack?... you probably would have said that it was your right to know about it... But what for? What for Jack?"

The Doctor buried his face in Jack's hair and closed his eyes weakly.

"It would have been torture, Jack. I would have tantalized you by letting you know. Well... because you can't protect me. You can't evade the inevitable, Jack. Death and taxes, Jack... death and taxes, and people who know how to control a Tardis.
That's just it.
You can't help me, Jack. You just can't. You're as powerless as I am.
What has to be will be... And you're supposed to wake up any moment..."

The Doctor had just enough time to finish muttering to himself before Jack drew his first breath again.
The Doctor had placed Jack's head on his knees, the constantly flowing blood staining his clothes.

Jack looked at the Doctor with tired eyes.
"I'm sorry..." he snivelled as tears streamed down his cheeks again.
The Doctor tried to push himself to something resembling a smile.
It was not really convincing; and definitely a lot scarier.

Nevertheless, Jack retorted the smile quietly and reached for the Doctor's icy hands.
The Doctor grasped Jack's fingers.

"You're an idiot..." the Doctor mumbled in a nearly familiar voice.

And it made an impact on Jack as he was now crying out loud.