Title: Freeze
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Tenth Doctor/Jack Harkness
Fandom: Doctor Who/Torchwood
Rating: R
Table: 4
Prompt: 11, Cold
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.

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Jack pushed open the door of the Tardis, rushing inside with the unconscious Doctor in his arms and slamming the door with a thrust of his elbow. He looked around wildly, not quite sure just what he was searching for. A way to bring the Doctor back from the state he was in, that was it, but he knew that there was no miracle that would make him open his eyes and come around.

He'd have to get the Doctor to his bedroom and try to warm his frozen body as best he could, Jack told himself, practically running for the corridor that led to the relative safety of that room. This wasn't something he'd counted on happening, and he should have been more prepared for these sorts of circumstances. But he'd been taken by surprise, not expecting any kind of emergency to arise.

And this time, it hadn't been caused by some angry mob of aliens, or even humans, Jack thought grimly, looking down at the Doctor as he lowered the other man onto the bed. No, they'd been doing something as innocuous as walking across a frozen pond -- which had been his own idea, of course -- when the ice had cracked under the Doctor and he'd gone under.

Jack squeezed his eyes tightly shut, wishing that he could drown out the sound of the Doctor's cry and the image of him disappearing under that treacherous ice from his mind. He'd been frozen himself for a few moments, unable to think, unable to act. Long enough for the Doctor to be swept under that ice and seized by the strong current running there.

It was a miracle that he was still alive, Jack thought, pulling off the Time Lord's shoes and socks, then his jacket. He started to work on the buttons of his sodden shirt, his own fingers cold and clumsy and barely managing to work. His hands were shaking, hie breath coming in spurts, his heart pounding with fear.

He couldn't take his eyes from the Doctor's face. The Time Lord's skin was ashen, cold and clammy, his lips tinted a pale shade of blue. If he pressed his palm against that thin chest, he could feel the dual heartbeats, slow and reluctant, but still beating. The Doctor's pulse was thready, dangerously slow, his breathing seeming to grow more shallow with every inhalation.

Jack peeled the Doctor's trousers off, then the boxer briefs, leaving the other man nude on the bed. The Doctor was shivering now, but Jack didn't know if it was an unconscious reaction or if it meant that the Doctor was starting to regain consciousness. Even his fingertips were starting to take on a pale blue hue, which alarmed Jack. He had to find a way to warm the Doctor, to bring him back to awareness.

He stripped off his own clothes, noticing that the interior of the Tardis was definitely warmer than it usually was. In her own way, the ship was trying to help the Doctor in the same way he was. He hoped that between the two of them, they would be able to revive him, and hopefully help him to forget what he'd so recently been through.

Moving the Doctor over on the bed, he slipped under the covers beside the Time Lord, wrapping the thick blankets around their bodies and taking the Doctor into his arms. His body felt cold and unresponsive, and for a moment, Jack wanted to bury his face in that tawny hair and burst into tears. He couldn't bear to think of the Doctor never coming out that bleak coldness, never feeling his body warm and pliant in his arms again.

When he'd managed to make his way to where the Doctor was lying in the snow, he'd been horrified by what he'd found. He didn't know how long the Time Lord had been encased in that sheet of ice, struggling to breathe, suffocating slowly with every passing moment. Not long enough to kill him, obviously, but long enough to snatch his consciousness away from this world.

Jack had prayed on the long walk back to the Tardis with the Doctor cradled in his arms, prayed to any deity he could think of. Surely one of them had to be listening. he could have sworn that he could feel the Doctor's life slipping through his fingers with each step he took; by the time he had neared the Tardis, he was running, slipping and sliding on the snow-covered ground in his haste to get to the ship.

"Help me," he whispered hoarsely, lifting his eyes from the Doctor's face and looking around the dimly lit room. "Help me keep him alive. You need him as much as I do, I know that. Don't let him die. Please." It didn't occur to him that it might be foolish to talk to a ship, an inanimate object. The Tardis was much more than that; he'd seen proof.

How long had he been frozen in that ice, probably thinking that Jack wasn't going to come for him? What had he been thinking during those long moments, those moments that had probably felt like hours to him? Jack cursed himself over and over again for not being able to get there sooner, for not having kept a tight grip on the Doctor's hand and letting this happen.

He should be grateful that the Doctor hadn't been swept away by the current and drowned, he told himself firmly. At least now, he had a chance of keeping the man he loved in this world. He wouldn't give up hope until he knew that the Doctor had drawn his last breath, beyond a shadow of a doubt. He wasn't going to admit to defeat until he absolutely had to. And that wasn't going to happen. Not if there was any way to avoid it.

He clutched the Doctor close against him, pulling the blankets closer around the still, inert body in his arms. The Time Lord was breathing shallowly, his thin chest barely rising and falling -- but at least he was breathing, Jack thought, brushing a few strands of damp hair back from the Doctor's face. His hearts were beating, and he was alive. That was the important thing. He was still alive.

Jack hadn't lost him. Not yet. And he wouldn't, not if he had anything to say about it.

The Doctor was cold, so cold. Jack clutched at him desperately, not knowing what else he could do other than try to warm the Doctor with his own body heat. The Tardis was adjusting the heat as much as she could to try to warm him without making it too uncomfortable for Jack, but at this point, he wouldn't mind dealing with a little discomfort, if only for the Doctor's sake.

Was it his imagination, or was the Doctor's body not as cold as before? Jack frowned, letting one hand move down the Doctor's side to rest on his hip. Maybe he was just imagining things, pretending that they were as he wanted them -- but he could swear that the Doctor's skin didn't feel so cold and clammy now. He hoped he was right.

The Time Lord still hadn't stirred, hadn't moved in his arms. Jack tilted the Doctor's face up to his, studying the other man's features in the subdued light. His eyes swept over the pale skin, the slightly parted lips, arched brows, long dark lashes, the sprinkling of sun-kissed freckles. All the features he knew so well and loved so much.

He wasn't going to lose this man. Not if he had to breathe life into the Doctor himself, not if he had to give away some of the eternity of years he was sure that he had stretching in front of him and give them to the Doctor. There was no way this man was going to slip out of his life, no way that he'd let the Doctor go without one hell of a fight. The Doctor was his, and Jack wasn't going to let him go easily.

"Don't you dare leave me," Jack whispered, gazing down at the still, pale features. He wanted to bend down and kiss those lips, bring color back into the Doctor's cheeks, count each and every freckle on that beloved face. He wanted the Doctor to wake up, to open his eyes and smile up at him and assure him that he was all right, that he wasn't going to leave Jack alone with his heart shattered into millions of tiny shards.

He clasped that slim body against his own, willing the Doctor to get warm, to come out of that frozen stasis that he seemed locked in. Jack's nerves were frayed almost to the breaking point; he didn't think he could stand much more of this, seeing the Doctor so cold and unresponsive. There had to be some way of bringing him around.

As if in answer to his thoughts, the fragile body in his arms stirred slightly. Jack's eyes widened, his breath catching in his throat. If the Doctor was waking up, he wanted to keep his eyes on that face, to see it when those eyes opened, to know that the Doctor was conscious and that he had all his faculties about him.

The Doctor's eyes didn't open, not yet. He shivered, curling up against Jack as though he was trying to burrow against the immortal's body for warmth. Jack pulled the blankets closer around the Time Lord, wishing there was some way that he could wrap himself around the Doctor and transfer every bit of body warmth that the other man needed to bring him back to consciousness.

He held his breath for what seemed like an eternity, until those long eyelashes fluttered and the Doctor's eyes opened slowly, the Gallifreyan's small, delicate hand splaying across his chest. Then, and only then, did he let out a sigh of relief. He was conscious, and even though he hadn't spoken yet, Jack was confident that he would.

"J-Jack?" The Doctor's voice was hoarse, hesitant, shaky. When he looked up at the man who held him, his eyes were slightly unfocused, and there was a confused look on his features. "H-how ...." Jack closed his own eyes, trying to hold back the tears that pricked behind his lids. The Doctor was awake, and speaking. He was going to be all right.

"Shhh, sweetheart, it's okay. I'm here," Jack whispered, smoothing the Doctor's hair back from his face. The Time Lord nodded, resting his cheek against Jack's chest, still shivering a little. Jack kept his arms wrapped tightly around the other man, not wanting to let him go. He couldn't help wondering just how close he'd come to losing the Doctor for good.

"I was .... ice .... it was so cold ...." the Doctor murmured, closing his eyes again. "I didn't think you would be able to find me, Jack. I thought I was going to die there."

Jack shuddered at the memory of finding the Doctor encased in a sheet of ice, his eyes closed, his mouth open in a silent scream, his hands raised as though he was somehow trying to claw his way free. He'd broken the ice as quickly as he could, hoping and praying that the Time Lord was still breathing in that icy prison, nearly sobbing in relief when he'd felt the faint, thready pulse beneath his fingertips. Thank god he'd gotten there in time.

"Don't think about it," Jack said softly, running a gentle hand through the Doctor's hair and finally allowing himself to relax. "It was my fault, Doctor. I should have kept hold of you. I shouldn't have let you go. I won't do that again, I swear. From now on, you're going to have a hard time dislodging me, no matter where we go."

"I wouldn't complain about that," the Doctor told him, still shivering in Jack's arms. "I can't seem to get warm. I don't know how long I was under that ice, but it must have been quite a while. I think I know what an icicle feels like now."

Why hadn't he thought of it before? Jack could have hit himself in the head for his stupidity. A hot bath. Yes. That would be a good way to help the Doctor thaw out, and help them both to relax after the harrowing experience they'd been through. The Doctor more so than himself, but still, he was tense and on edge. He needed the relaxation, too.

"I'm putting you in a hot bath," he said, reluctantly sitting up and pulling the covers back slightly, not wanting to let any slight chill of air reach the Doctor's body, but knowing that he'd have to if he intended to carry the Doctor to the bathroom. "You need to thaw out and get comfortable, and you need something to help you relax. That should do it."

The Time Lord nodded, but didn't move; he still seemed weak and a little disoriented, but Jack was sure that he had his mental faculties all in order. He was far more worried about the Doctor's physical condition than anything else -- he didn't know how long the Doctor had been imprisoned in that sheet of ice, or what the aftereffects could be.

Jack leaned down to gather the Doctor into his arms, reflecting that he was getting used to carrying the Time Lord. The Doctor's thin body felt fragile and almost weightless in his arms; Jack couldn't help but worry about the other man's tendency to stay far too thin. But it didn't seem to affect him adversely, Jack told himself, and anyway, he didn't know if a Gallifreyan's dietary needs were the same as those of a human.

The Doctor's arms were around his neck, the Time Lord's cheek resting against his shoulder. It felt natural and somehow right for the Doctor to be nestled in his arms like this. It was somehow symbolic of their relationship, Jack thought, making his way down the corridors leading to their destination. But that didn't bother him.

After all, it wasn't as though the Doctor was weak. No, he was stronger in many ways than Jack could ever be -- and the immortal accepted that. In so many ways, he looked up to the Doctor, counting on him to lead the way. But physically, Jack knew that he was the one who should take those first steps forward, and he didn't have a problem with doing that.

When he reached the bathroom, he was surprised to find that the large, claw-footed tub was already filled with steaming water, the room comfortably warm, but not overheated to the point where it was difficult to breathe. The Tardis must have anticipated that he'd be bringing the Doctor here, Jack realized, wondering just how the water had been turned on. Oh well, he shrugged inwardly, he should know better by now than to question the bond between the Doctor and his ship.

He'd thought this bathroom was a bit old-fashioned when he'd first seen it, smiling to himself at the obvious pleasure it gave the Time Lord. But he'd grown quite used to the large, antique bathtub, the quiet calm and solitude that he felt when he sank into steaming hot water and let his cares melt away. He was sure the Doctor felt that way at times, too.

Now, he was more grateful than he could say that they had this here, just when the Doctor needed it most. He stepped close to the tub, lowering the Time Lord into the hot water -- it was lilac-scented, he noticed with a slight smile -- and breathing a quiet sigh of relief when the Time Lord sank back into the water up to his shoulders, visibly relaxing. The heat was already doing wonders to revive him; he looked more alert, more focused.

"Well, are you going to get in here with me, or just stand there?" The Doctor looked up at him, lifting one hand out of the water and holding it out to Jack in a gesture of invitation.

"You don't think I could stay away from you, do you?" Jack said softly, stepping into the tub and letting the Doctor lean forward as he sank down behind the other man. When he was settled comfortably, he pulled the Doctor back against him; the Time Lord closed his eyes as he laid back against Jack's strong chest, letting out a soft sigh.

"We certainly seem to get ourselves into regrettable situations sometimes, don't we?" he asked, not opening his eyes as he spoke. Jack gazed down at him, lifting one wet hand to trace watery patterns across the Doctor's bare chest, circling each small nipple with caressing fingers.

"That we do, Doctor," Jack agreed, unable to keep from smiling. The Doctor was definitely going to be all right; he already sounded like his normal self, albeit weak and tired. But Jack was sure that a good night's sleep would rejuvenate him -- and he wasn't going to let the other man out of his sight, or out of his embrace, until he knew that the Doctor was fully recovered.

He could feel a shudder pass through the Doctor's slender body, and he automatically tightened his arms around the Time Lord. He wanted the Doctor to forget the worst of what he'd been through, and hopefully, the other man would be able to do that. And more than anything, Jack wanted to forget his part in it, his negligence that had almost cost the Doctor his life.

"It wasn't your fault, Jack," the Doctor murmured, turning his head to look up at Jack. "You couldn't have known what was going to happen. Please, don't blame yourself. I assure you, I'll be all right."

"Let's not discuss blame, Doctor," Jack answered, lowering his head to brush his lips against the softness of the Doctor's mouth. "I've got more than enough things to blame myself for, you know. That's just one more to add to the rest. I just .... I'll have a hard time forgiving myself for this one. I could have lost you."

"But you didn't," the Doctor whispered, his gaze not leaving Jack's face. "I'm here, I'm safe, and I'm not going anywhere. And I wouldn't let you go anywhere, either. So don't even think about burying yourself in guilt and coming up with some cockeyed excuse to leave. That isn't going to work, Jack Harkness."

"Leave you? Never," Jack said softly, leaning in again for another kiss. "If I left you, my life would end. I might still be moving around and breathing like any normal human being -- but if you're not a part of my life, then it's just an existence. And that's no life at all. It's not the way I want to live."

"That's good to hear," the Doctor sighed, sinking back down in the water and resting against Jack's chest. "I think we should stay in here a good long while, don't you? We've both needed this for a while, I think."

"I couldn't agree more," Jack murmured, closing his eyes and clasping the Doctor's hands in his own. The terrifying ordeal they'd both recently passed through was receding a little, and Jack hoped that in time, they'd both put it behind them. For now, he was content to lie here, with the Doctor in his arms, and hope with all his heart that nothing like that would ever happen to them again.

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