Title: Burn For You
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Tenth Doctor/Jack Harkness
Fandom: Doctor Who/Torchwood
Rating: PG
Table: 1
Prompt: 37, Burn
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 Jack Harkness. Please do not sue.***
There were so many different kinds of burning, the Doctor thought to himself, propping his chin on his hands as he sat at one of the small outdoor tables of the French café he liked to frequent whenever he came to this particular time.
There was the glowing tip of the cigarette that a man seated a few tables away was smoking, the kind of flame that was quickly lit and just as quickly extinguished. That was a flame that no one really paid any attention to, one that every person on Earth seemed to take for granted.
Then there were the flames of bonfires in this fall season, that lit up the sky and scented the air with the scorch of burning leaves. It wasn't a scent he found particularly pleasant, but humans seemed quite fond of it, for some strange reason.
And there were the fires that had raged in the galaxy when Gallifrey had ceased to exist .... the Doctor shivered, squeezing his eyes shut for a few moments, his hands clencing into fists on the table top.
It was a few moments before he could make himself relax, taking a few deep breaths and consciously moving his thoughts away from where they'd been headed. That was a subject best left for his mind to linger on when he was alone, not here within sight of several humans.
So many different kinds of flames, so many different ways to burn .... but none of those sorts of fires burned with the intensity that he did when he thought of the 21st century of this planet, and the man he'd left behind there.
Or rather -- the man who had left him to return to a life there.
He shouldn't be thinking about Jack. He should have put that relationship to rest long ago, put the handsome immortal out of his mind, contented himself with the memories of what they'd had, though it had been all too brief.
But that wasn't easy for him to do, he reflected, looking up with a small smile and shaking his head as a waitress approached the table. She gave him an odd look and moved off, no doubt wondering why he was sitting here looking so gloomy and not having a few drinks to assuage whatever was bothering him.
There was no way to do that, was there? No, the only way that he'd be able to find any sort of closure for his bothersome thoughts was to go back to the century Jack was in and confront his former lover, finally ask the questions that burned in his mind and in his hearts.
He didn't dare do that. He was too afraid of what he would hear, of how Jack would turn him away. The immortal had walked away once; there was nothing to stop him from doing it again.
The Doctor sighed, looking down at the table top and studying his hands, clasped to keep them still. He had a habit of waving his hands about when he talked -- something that Jack had always teased him about and which he'd tried his best to stop doing.
Well, at least that was one thing Jack wouldn't be giving him a hard time for if he was here now, he told himself, a wry smile twisting his lips. He had no one to talk to. No lover. No companion. No one to be with him, to share his travels with.
No one to share his hearts with. No one to love him -- and no one to love.
That had all ended when Jack had left. It wouldn't be possible to make himself look at another companion as a lover; not after Jack. What they had shared was too special, too much a part of him, to even attempt to have that same sort of relationship with anyone else.
He would spend the rest of his days burning for Jack; he was sure of that. The only way to extinguish that flame of desire he would always feel at the mere thought of the handsome Captain was to see Jack again, to hear it from the other man's own lips that what they'd had was over.
Did he have the strength to do that? The Doctor wasn't sure of that at all. He had no idea how he would react on hearing those words, and a part of him didn't want to know.
But he had to know. He couldn't go on like this, wandering the galaxy, going from one time to another, always searching for the same thing. Some place and time that didn't remind him of Jack, somewhere that he would be safe from the longing in his hearts.
There was nothing for it. If he wanted to end this burning, he would have to see Jack again. The thought of seeing his former lover again frightened him more than anything he'd ever faced -- but he couldn't keep putting it off. Not any longer.
With another soft sigh, he got to his feet, shoving his hands into the pockets of his coat and making his way along the street to the alley where he'd left the Tardis. It was now or never -- and he needed to do this before his courage failed him.
This was the only way to heal from the gaping wound that Jack's leaving had left in him , the Doctor told himself, pushing back a prickling premonition of disaster. The only way that he would ever be able to make this particular burning stop.
And if it didn't stop .... he would continue to burn, until there was nothing left of him but ashes.***
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