Title: A Dream Came True
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Tenth Doctor/Jethro Cane
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: PG-13
Table: 3
Prompt: 25, Enthralled
Author's Note: Continuation of Heat of the Moment.
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the Tenth Doctor or Jethro Cane. Please do not sue.


Jethro stretched out under the covers of his bed, smiling as he turned onto his side to contemplate the man sleeping beside him. He'd come to Midnight hoping against hope that he would somehow find the Doctor again, without really expecting to. It was an incredible stroke of luck that fate had thrown this man into his path again.

He couldn't take his eyes from the Doctor's face, reaching out a hand to stroke gentle fingertips down the soft skin of the other man's cheek. He was so beautiful, Jethro thought wistfully, so completely perfect. In all of his dreams about the Doctor since the first time they'd met, he'd never expected the older man to be so .... fulfilling.

The Doctor was everything he'd ever wanted, he told himself, moving closer to the slender body next to his own, pulling the covers closer around the Doctor's shoulders. Whatever might happen between them in the time that they were both on Midnight, he wasn't going to let this man just walk out of his life again.

It had been the hardest thing in the world to get out of that rescue vehicle after the first time they'd met and see the Doctor walking away from him without a backward glance. He'd stared at the other man's retreating figure until he was out of sight, feeling as if his heart was going with him. He'd known then that he had to find the Doctor again, no matter what it took.

What quirk of fate had drawn them to Midnight at the same time? he wondered, a slight frown crossing his features. It was strange, how they'd both ended up here, with no reason to be on this planet other than feeling that they were somehow compelled to come here at this particular time. It was like some kind of weird omen.

Stranger things had happened, he said to himself, propping himself up on one elbow and continuing to study the sleeping Time Lord's face. Whatever it was, fate or something else, he was grateful to it. It had given him his heart's desire, and this time, he was going to hold on to it as hard as he could, and not let go.

Jethro was positive that the Doctor reciprocated his desire; he'd seen that look in the other man's eyes when they'd gazed at each other in the front room of the suite, the lonely, lost look that had seared into his heart. The Doctor was alone, and he needed someone to be with him and take away that loneliness. He was sure of it.

Of course, he wouldn't be staying with the Doctor out of purely altruistic motives. It didn't hurt that the other man was beautiful, and that Jethro wanted him with a deep, aching longing that he'd never felt for anyone else. Even after the three times they'd already made love, his desire for the Doctor hadn't diminished -- no, it had only grown stronger. But he'd thought that it would be a good idea to let the other man get some sleep.

How could anybody not want to be with him? Jethro thought, trailing his fingertips down the Doctor's face, tracing the outline of his lips. He was the most beautiful creature Jethro had ever laid eyes on; those eyes, those lips, that body. The most perfect body he'd ever seen, in or out of his clothes.

And not just beautiful outside, either; Jethro knew from the things he'd said at that original meeting that the beauty and generosity of the Doctor's soul shone just as brightly as his good looks. He'd let himself build up fantasies around this man, thought about him so much that the Doctor had become the center of his life, even though it had been more than a year since they'd seen each other.

He wasn't even sure if the Doctor would remember him when he'd come to Midnight. But he'd been sure of one thing; he'd had it fixed in his mind that if he came here, he would find the Doctor again, and something would happen between them that would change the course of his life. He'd been surprised by the meeting, but it was, after all, fated.

Jethro sighed softly, wondering just how he was going to tell the Doctor about his surety that they would meet again. He couldn't just say it as if it was nothing; the Doctor had a mind that would jump on that and demand an explanation. "I can, you know, feel things. Sometimes tell when they're going to happen." That was his usual way of explaining, but he had the definite feeling that it wouldn't go over well this time.

He'd been twelve when he first discovered that he was empathic; too young to really know what that had meant at the time, but old enough to do some research about it. He'd also been old enough to know that it had to be hidden from his parents at all costs -- or run the risk of having to hide that singular ability for the rest of his life.

Maybe the strange way he had of sometimes knowing what was going to happen in his future was some sort of side effect of his empathy. After all, it wasn't as though he could focus on any other person and know what would happen in their lives; no, it only seemed to work with himself, and people who he was close to. It had worked with his parents when he was younger, but not so well as he'd grown older and distanced himself from them emotionally.

Would it work with the Doctor? Jethro couldn't help contemplating the possibility, and hoping that his empathy would be a reason for the Doctor to take him along when he left Midnight. He was quite certain that the other man had somewhere to go, a life outside of the confines of this planet, and that he somehow needed a lover as part of that life.

After all, he was completely and utterly besotted with the Doctor. Had been for over a year now, he said to himself, a small smile quirking his lips. And he was reasonably sure that the other man was developing at least a small measure of affection for him -- the Doctor didn't seem like the type of man who believed in sex without emotional attachment.

It wasn't hard for him to tell that the Doctor was lonely -- that feeling was practically coming off the other man in waves, Jethro thought, pushing a few strands of tawny hair back from the Doctor's face as he watched him sleep. He'd never felt such crushing loneliness emanating from anyone, not even himself at his lowest point.

That was another strange thing, Jethro told himself, frowning again. It was almost as though the Doctor had been lonely for his entire life -- and almost as if that life had been so long that loneliness was ingrained into the very fibre of his being. Well, he was going to change that. He wasn't going to let this beautiful man be lonely for much longer.

He couldn't bear the thought of the Doctor being unhappy, he told himself, not after what he'd already seen this man go through. Why did he feel that what had happened on that ship had only touched the tip of the iceberg of the Doctor's experiences? Even though he'd almost lost his life, Jethro was sure that he'd been in worse spots before.

Jethro had been terrified by what was happening on the train, so much so that he'd lost his head when people had started tossing accusations around. He hadn't wanted to agree with his father when the man had insisted they throw the Doctor out of the train. Everything in him had rebelled against his actions. But he'd somehow felt forced into it, unable to take a stand.

He'd been horrified by his own part in that; he hadn't wanted to go along with the others, but at the time, he hadn't felt that he had a choice. He wanted to make that up to the Doctor; he wanted to treat the other man with all the gentleness and love that was in him, to somehow manage to negate what he'd almost been a party to doing to him during that hysteria.

Somehow, he didn't think that the Doctor had had much gentleness in his life, Jethro mused, his fingertips trailing across the Doctor's cheek again. He seemed so .... so needy, so lonely, so easy to victimize. That probably wasn't true; he was sure that the Doctor as capable of holding his own in a crisis. But there was something helpless and vulnerable about him, something that made Jethro want to hold him and protect him.

What was his real name? That was something that they'd never managed to get out of him; he hadn't seemed to want to reveal it, and it wasn't really anything that they'd needed to push for. Jethro wanted to know that name; he wanted to know everything about the Doctor, all his likes and dislikes, his fears, his innermost secrets.

He was more than willing to give the Doctor all of those answers about himself in return, and more. He would give this man anything he wanted, anything that he had to give, Jethro told himself, his inner voice fierce and firm. He'd known since the first time he set eyes on the Doctor that this man would be special to him -- well, he wanted to be someone special to the Doctor, as well.

What was it about this slender, fragile man that brought out such protectiveness in him? Jethro wasn't sure just what it was; there was some quality about the Doctor that inspired that sort of feeling in him, he supposed, something that he couldn't quite put his finger on. Maybe it was just because he was so beautiful -- and so devastatingly lonely.

He'd felt that loneliness from the moment the Doctor had stepped onto that ship over a year ago, and that feeling had only seemed to intensify when he'd run into the Time Lord again. It made his heart ache to think that anyone could have neglected this man; he wasn't going to do that. He was going to be by the Doctor's side for the rest of his life, if it was possible.

Jethro was a bit shaken by the strength of his emotions; he'd never felt like this about anyone else, hadn't even thought that he had this depth of feeling in him. It was exhilirating, and a little frightening at the same time. But he wasn't going to let himself back away from it. He'd fallen in love for the first time, he realized with a shock, and it was .... amazing.

It wasn't just because they'd so recently made love, either, he told himself. He'd felt this way ever since the first time he'd seen the Doctor; well, maybe not so fiercely protective, but he'd felt that he wanted to know this man, to entwine their lives together. And now he had the chance to do that -- if it was something that the Doctor wanted, too.

The Doctor stirred slightly, turning onto his side towards Jethro with a soft whimper. Jethro moved closer to the other man, wrapping his arms around the Doctor and pulling him close. A frown creased his forehead; that little whimper had sounded frightened, as if the Doctor was dreaming about some remembered pain from his past. That wasn't good. Not good at all.

He was surprised when the Doctor whimpered again and tried to push him away, struggling to free himself from Jethro's embrace. The young man shook the Doctor, gently at first, then a little more roughly, trying to wake the Time Lord and pull him out of whatever dream he was lost in. "Doctor! Doctor, wake up!"

The Doctor awakened with a gasp, his eyes snapping open and focusing on Jethro. For a moment, the young man could swear that the other man was expecting to see someone else holding him -- and the fear on his face told Jethro all he needed to know. Someone had hurt the Doctor at some point. And hurt him badly, judging from that look.

"Shhh, it's all right." Jethro pressed a soft kiss against the Doctor's hair, trying to soothe him from whatever dream -- or was it a memory? -- that had plagued him. "I'm not going to hurt you, Doctor. You're safe with me." He could feel the Doctor's heart beating against his chest -- pounding so hard that it seemed like two hearts. But that was impossible, he told himself. He was just hearing strange things, that was all.

The Doctor gulped, nodding and pressing his thin body closer to Jethro's. "I'm sorry, Jethro. I didn't mean to ...." His voice trailed off as he closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the young man's chest. Jethro tightened his arms around him, hoping that whatever had agitated him had been banished when he woke up.

"Hey, it's okay. We all have bad dreams. Or .... bad memories that come back when we don't want them to." He was fishing, trying to get the Doctor to tell him just what it was that had seemed so terrifying. He had the sudden urge to wrap the Doctor in his arms and keep him there, to spend his life protecting this man from harm in any way he could.

"Bad memories, yes." The Doctor nodded again, taking a deep breath and then letting it out slowly. "It's something that's been happening all my life, Jethro -- for far longer than you could begin to imagine. I've gotten quite used to living with it -- but there are times when the memories attack me unexpectedly. I'm sorry that it had to happen now, when we're just starting to get to know each other."

"It's not your fault. Don't apologise." Jethro tilted the Doctor's face up to his, his dark eyes meeting the Doctor's and holding his gaze for several long moments. Finally, he smiled, one hand moving down the Time Lord's back to rest on the curve of his ass. "What do you say to making some more memories -- some that you'll want to remember?"

"I think that sounds like a very good idea," the Doctor sighed, closing his eyes as Jethro turned him onto his back, the young man's lips and hands starting to work their magic. Jethro smiled inwardly as he let his mouth trail down that beautiful body, satisfied that he'd chased away whatever had upset the Doctor.

He'd never been so enthralled with anyone, so completely caught up in a person that he wanted to abandon everything about his life to be with them. Was this what love was? he asked himself, wishing that he could ask the Doctor if he'd ever been in love before. Was love this wild urgency that blocked out everything else? Was this what it felt like?

If it was, then he never wanted to fall out of love. He'd never felt anything so amazing, never thought that there could be a feeling like this -- something that filled him so completely and made him want to lose himself inside the person he was with. This had to be love. He loved the Doctor. He'd never been more sure of anything in his life.

He was going to get the Doctor to talk about his past, to tell him whatever it was that had frightened him so and made him cry out in his sleep, Jethro told himself as he spread the Doctor's thighs and settled himself between the older man's legs. And he was going to make sure that whatever it was stayed gone. He wasn't going to let any bad dreams -- or memories -- disturb the time that he had with this man. Not again.

The Doctor was his dream come true, in every possible way. How many nights had he laid awake, thinking of this man, seeing the Doctor's face in his mind, wishing that he could press his lips against that mouth, take that body in his arms? And now, that dream was a reality. A reality that he was never going to lose, not if he could help it.

Jethro pushed the worrisome thoughts of what could have caused the Doctor such fear out of his mind, focusing on the willing body beneath his own. This wasn't the time to let bothersome things take control. He could worry about those things later, when his future with the Doctor was assured. Then, he would have all the time in the world. Now, he had more important things to focus his attention on.


Next story in series - Spark of Hope.