for rude_not_ginger: Welcome back to the Universe, Doctor.

[quitehomoerotic]

Follows this.

Jack carried the Doctor's limp body inside the TARDIS and shut the door behind him with a firm hand. In his mind he could feel the TARDIS bubbling away with worry and concern. She could feel it too, and she didn't understand. Was he alive? Was he really alive? Could he be? What had happened? What had Jack done?

"He'll be okay," he said aloud to her. "He's alive, he'll be fine."

He set the Doctor down on the metal grating of the console room floor. The Doctor looked wrong like that, in the borrowed clothes that didn't fit him. He looked like someone had tried to dress a doll. They'd have things right soon enough. They had to.

Running around the console he set the TARDIS quickly into flight. They had to get away, they couldn't be here, they couldn't be found. That would cause far too many problems.

The Doctor would wake up. He was alive, he had to wake up, and Jack would focus on him as soon as they were away. Anywhere, anywhen, just away.

The vortex was enough for now, no real destination, just far away.

Only when Jack was sure they were safely in flight did he move, and when he did he brought himself down to kneel beside the Doctor.

"Wake up," he whispered. "Please."

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It took him a moment to realize where he was. The energy had faded, leaving him feeling renewed, alive. He flexed his fingers and they felt long and wrong and strange, but he was still there, still himself. He could hear Jack's voice from what felt like a long, long way away.

"Oh, my head," he said, groaning as he tried to sit up. "Oh, that didn't go as well as I'd hoped."

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Jack wanted to reach out. He wanted to grab hold of the Doctor and pull him tightly against him. He wanted to hold him always. But not now. Not yet.

That said, he couldn't hold back the shaky breath when the Doctor spoke.

"Doctor," he said, reaching out and grabbing a hand tightly to his wrist.

"Oh God is it good to hear you. Welcome back."

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The Doctor blinked at the console room, then back at Jack. Jack looked different, like...something had changed. He couldn't figure out what, but the way he held onto the Doctor's wrist felt strange. It felt different. Something had happened. Why didn't the TARDIS seem to notice it? She was buzzing in his mind with contentment.

"Well, these things happen," he said, giving him a grin that felt far too large for his face. "Pretty fantastic, isn't it?"

Jack didn't seem concerned at all. Good old Captain Jack.

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"You can say that again," Jack said, his smile beaming and wide.

Because there he was, the Doctor; alive and breathing and talking and smiling. And things would be okay, it would all be okay. Nothing had gone wrong, had it? They'd actually done it. All those years with him lying there dead and it had actually worked. The Doctor was alive, he was really alive. His Doctor.

Jack was quite overcome with emotion. He tried to keep it in, but he couldn't resist reaching out and touching a hand to the Doctor's cheek before pressing a small kiss to his lips. So good to have him alive.

"Look at you," he said.

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Oh, it was all kisses again. The Doctor sighed, shaking his head good-naturedly and giving him a small smile. Oh, Jack would always be so very Jack, wouldn't he? Kisses when it wasn't entirely appropriate for kisses. Still, couldn't fault him for it.

"So where are we?" he asked, brushing off his jacket and struggling to pull himself to his feet. He felt weaker than he expected he would. "Did we take off?"

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For a moment, Jack frowned. Something felt wrong. Be that inside or out, he wasn't sure. Either way, he brushed it off. Just worrying needlessly of course. The Doctor was here, he was fine. What was to worry about?

"Vortex," he said, standing up to move beside him. "No destination, just floating. Be careful you might not be strong enough," he reached his hand out, trying to support him. "Just take it easy a bit, okay?"

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"Nah," the Doctor said, brushing him off. "Energy's depleated, just got to figure out what I'm missing if I'm missing anything."

He patted his knees, then his elbows. "Two legs, two arms, hair---" He put his hand to his hair. "Ooooh, big hair. And sideburns! Oooh, that's brilliant, I've always wanted sideburns. Bad skin, though. Feels like there's been a bit of bruising, I didn't expect bruising. And thinner. Blimey, look how thin I am!"

He turned to Jack and offered him a big grin. "And the most important question." He nodded.

"Where's Rose?"

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Suddenly, Jack felt like he'd been hit by a train. It all fell into place, the way the Doctor moved and the way he spoke. He didn't need the final words for the confirmation, though they were merely the nail in the coffin.

The Doctor thought he had just regenerated. This hadn't worked properly. All those years, centuries and adventures and so many things, all gone?

Jack thought then, suddenly, of the Doctor he'd spoken to on the phone. How ridiculous he'd found Jack's words. Back before there was that trust. And this? This was even further before that.

And of course, of course, Rose was the most important. Because back then? Jack was barely on the Doctor's radar.

"She's--" he started, struggling for words and a way to keep himself together. "She's gone home," he said.

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"Gone," the Doctor said. He felt a stabbing, right between his hearts. He'd regenerated for her, to bring her back. He couldn't let her die, he couldn't let her go, that's why he did it. And she was gone.

At least she was gone home.

"She's safe," he said. It wasn't a question. Jack wouldn't be here, calm like this, if she wasn't. "That's good."

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"Yeah," Jack said, almost a little distant and broken. He didn't know what to think. Happy that the Doctor was alive, of course. And that was what mattered, wasn't it? Him being alive. The universe was better with him, memories of this regeneration or not.

He reached a hand out and touched it to the console. The coral was warm under his hand and he knew it was the TARDIS trying to comfort him. She could see what had happened, and worried as she was, she was worried for him too.

"Everyone's safe," Jack found himself going on. "Her, her mother, Mickey..." and a whole list of people the Doctor wouldn't even know the name of.

Martha. Martha who had helped bring him back from the dead. He wouldn't even recognise her. The thought of that hurt.

"We should land somewhere," he said. "Best for the engines."

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"Mickey the Idiot," the Doctor acknowledged. "That's good, at least." He always had some affection for Mickey, though he could never really understand what Rose saw in him. He'd be a brilliant person one day, if he ever grew up.

He headed over to the console and began turning dials and switches. The differences in the decor only barely registered to him. After a moment looking, he almost imagined they'd been there for hundreds of years. A silly thought, of course. The TARDIS hadn't even looked like coral for more than a decade.

"And you?" he asked, peering over the console. "What happened to you?"

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Jack couldn't help but let out an ironic, if empty, laugh at the question. "Where'd you want to start?" he muttered under his breath before shaking his head.

"You tell me," he said. He didn't know what to say, or what to do, but he knew looking at the Doctor now, he felt like there was a brick wall between them.

This man? Simply didn't know him.

"I died," he said with a nod. "And then I woke up."

Not a lie, of course, just not as recent an event as the Doctor assumed.

He walked around the console a little and looked over at him. "You feeling okay?" he asked, gently concerned. "I mean, felling... alltogether, and all?"

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"Ah."

It explained a lot. The strange wrong wave that seemed to come from Jack, the odd way the TARDIS seemed attached to him. Rose must've brought him back using the heart of the TARDIS. Why couldn't he quite remember everything?

"Yep, I am completely here, I think," he said. He usually felt so young and revitalized when he regenerated. For some reason, he felt old and tired, now. His eyes widened in horror.

"Oh, no. Am I old?"

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To his surprise, Jack let out a small laugh. A small, but genuine, laugh.

"No," he assured. "No, you're... looking good. Change of clothes, do your hair, you'll be good for running."

That was what mattered. The Doctor, alive, running and saving the universe. Of course that was what mattered.

"No older than I am," he added. True too, but in ways of course the Doctor just wouldn't understand.

Absently, Jack reached his right hand to his left. He moved to twist the ring on his finger; something that had become a habit over the last few years. But his ring wasn't there, and he felt all that little bit more lost.

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And the second-most important question.

"Am I...ginger?"

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Jack shot the Doctor what could only be deemed as 'a look'.

"No. You're not."

He hated this. He hated all of it. It just wasn't fair.

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He wanted to whine about how he'd always wanted to be ginger, but there was something stopping him. Some strange sort of tension. Some feeling that he'd said that before.

And the way Jack was looking at him was more than a little off-putting.

"Did Rose say something to you before she left?" he asked.

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"Oh the last thing I care about right now is Rose Tyler!" Jack snapped. Rose was so very important to him, of course, but her story to him was a century ago. She'd had her life, had her Doctor with her for that. So many thoughts were going through Jack's mind, it was hard to focus.

Straight away, of course, he regretted saying it. He didn't mean it, or at least didn't mean it in the way it must have sounded.

"No," he said, trying to recover. "Just goodbye." Well, she had said that the last time she'd seen him, after all.

"Doctor, land the TARDIS," he asked again. "rest the engines." He'd done a lot of work on her the last few years, and she hadn't had many flights lately.

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The last thing Jack cared about? Jack cared very much for Rose, the Doctor knew it. He could tell from the way Jack and her interacted. And while he didn't feel the same sort of envy he had when they first brought Jack on board, he always knew that part of Jack would care about Rose.

Where was this coming from?

"Oh, don't you start snapping at me," the Doctor said, with a temper that he didn't recognize. "I'm the one who's just regenerated here, I've got the questions! And don't order me about the TARDIS like you know more about her than I do!"

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"Oh is that right, is it?" Jack asked, shaking his head. "And you do? You sure of that?"

Of course the Doctor knew the TARDIS better than he did, he always would. But he didn't know the last two centuries of her, and that was a lot of missed knowledge. Jack knew her, and she knew him, and right now, it felt like that's all he had left, and he'd fight for that as long as he had breath.

He felt sick. When he closed his eyes, that hole that had been in his head for the last few years, that void inside him that the Doctor left, it was gone, it was filled, but it wasn't. Because here, here he was, and here they were, and for Jack, utterly selfishly, this was almost worse.

"Long day," he said quieter. "I'm just concerned, that's all. I just think we should land. Or why don't you go lie down, I'll land her. You need to rest."

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"You can't fly the TARDIS," the Doctor said. He sighed. "You can work on her, but until you've had proper lessons, I don't want you or anybody else flying her."

But, then again, there wasn't anybody else, was there? Rose was gone. Why would she go? Why didn't she say anything? Why didn't she at least say goodbye?

He leaned against the console and sighed. She was gone. He should've known this would happen when he regenerated. He pulled the brake and began programming the TARDIS to land.

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"Yeah," Jack said quietly. "Course not." It felt like a knife that was already pushed into him was being twisted and turned.

To him, now, he wasn't Jack. Not any more. He was Captain Jack again. Someone else, not someone so close, not someone he'd share his secrets with. Not someone he'd share himself with.

He wondered then if the Doctor would even say his name right. He couldn't on the phone, after all.

With a long sigh, he reached his hand out and gently placed it over the Doctor's. "You sure you feel okay?" he asked, urging him. "Because if there's anything, anything at all, you can talk to me, Doctor. That's what I'm here for."

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That gentle touch wasn't something he associated with his and Jack's relationship. He had a feeling Jack fancied him, but it wasn't anything serious. Their relationship was fun and flirty, it wasn't like this.

And yet...there was something oddly comforting in it. Like some part of him, some part deep at his core, knew the touch and longed for it.

It was unnerving enough that he pulled his hand away and purposefully strode to the other side of the console to keep flipping buttons.

"Thought you were here to look good?" he asked, trying to tease.

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It was like a wound being ripped open when the Doctor pulled away. He'd have to get used to this though, wouldn't he? Used to turning back the time like this. Because if this was as good as it got, and if the Doctor never remembered those lost memories, then they'd never have again what was lost.

Jack looked down for a moment and stared at his hand. It hurt, all of it, and he was tired. He had years of tired, but he couldn't show it.

He should be able to do this. He ought to be able to lie. Lying was what he did. He'd just have to buck himself together and do it.

"Well someone has to," he said, trying to tease back, but it falling a little flat.

"But I'm more than just a pretty face, you know."

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The Doctor looked over to Jack, worried again. "Saying I'm ugly, then? Oh, that would be how it is. First I get the ears and that nose, and now I'm just ugly. Well, at least I'm not old."

He shook his head. "Though you, Jack, you're looking old. Is that dye in your hair?"

A pause. "That was sort of rude, wasn't it? Is that who I am, then, rude?"